Tantalising failure

Feeling good at 5km
[Photo courtesy of Jenny Barker]

As I went through the 8km mark, gradually closing on a bunch of runners in front of me in today's Central Coast Half Marathon, I told myself that I just had to keep going like this for another 50+ minutes and I would have a good run.  I had avoided looking at my watch so didn't know what my pace was, but club-mate Melissa was one of those I was catching and I was pretty sure she was going to run in the low 90s (final time 92:26).

Then, on a minor corner on the winding bike path, I felt a little twinge in my lower right calf.  Twinges come and go all of the time at my age, so I concentrated on maintaining my form and hoped it would go away as most others do.  Five hundred metres later it was still there, and although I had easily maintained my pace, I was starting to worry that it might be more than a twinge.  It was now moderately painful on every step.  I ran another couple of hundred metres trying to favour the calf a little and loosen it up.  That didn't work, and I knew I had to make a decision.  I could keep running and it might yet go away - maybe just a minor cramp.  But it could also get worse and if I pushed on it might become a serious injury, taking a month or two to heal.

With great frustration, I decided the risks of continuing were too great, and the rewards too small, and stopped at about the 9km mark.  Then, I had a long walk back, sharing my misery with a girl who had also dropped out, until we were lucky enough to get a lift to the finish with club-mate Jenny who had been out taking photographs.

I'm disappointed and depressed.  Disappointed that I didn't capitalise on my fitness and see what I could run for a half marathon at present.  I can speculate, but that's not reality.  Depressed because I now fear the injury will significantly hamper my preparation for the Bogong to Hotham 64km in early January.

Eight hours later, the calf is sore walking around, though not acutely painful.  I hope my DNF has indeed saved me from a worse injury.  Nevertheless, history tells me that regardless of what therapy I employ it's going to be something like three weeks before it is whole again.  I know I've had a good run for six months and was overdue for a running injury, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Does it matter

The sun rises behind Terrigal Haven this morning
[Photo courtesy of Jenny Barker]

After supervising the usual Trotters track session as the sun rose at Terrigal Haven this morning, I headed out unenthusiastically for my own 10km run on a day forecast to be very hot.  Even though it was not that bad at 7:00am, the run was not enjoyable.  It was hard, on top of yesterday's lethargic short run, to believe I had any chance of running a good Half Marathon in three days time.  Even my chronic right heel was bothersome despite a light training week.

Experience tells me that I've done the training and that I won't run that badly on Sunday.  However, part of the reason it's all weighing on my mind a little is that exactly how well I run will impact my plans for the next nine months.  If I finish in a time that gives me any confidence that I could run a near 3-hour marathon in April, then I'll delay the start of my planned three-month hike around Ireland until after that marathon.  It's unlikely I'll ever have the chance, small as it is, to run that kind of time again.

If my time on Sunday gives me little hope of a sub-3 marathon in April then I'll give the marathon a miss and start my hike earlier - an attractive outcome because I am looking forward to the hike and early spring will be a better time to start.

I haven't booked any flights yet and also need to start on the detailed planning, so I need to make a decision one way or the other.  I'll be trying as hard as I can on Sunday and hoping that I'll get a clear indication.  Since both outcomes do have attractions, what am I worried about.

Strava

The Wycombe Road Hill

I felt very guilty running just 7km with the boys this morning after a 3km warm-up.  The traditional run includes an effort up one significant hill, which is logged on Strava, along with efforts up a few smaller ones.  I didn't feel that fresh warming up, but my legs didn't feel as tired as recently.  It was more a lack of flexibility and looseness that hampered my running, but I did feel stronger and neared my best time for the last few months for the climb up the Wycombe Road hill, though I have never run up it as hard as I can.

I'm only a recent convert to Strava, and really haven't got into it as much as I could.  I think there are a number of other well-known local hills I could identify as segments.  It is a bit addictive checking your own times as well as those of other Strava users on the segments, and does encourage you to try a bit harder than otherwise.

The run this morning finished with a couple of kilometres on the flat Terrigal Drive and I loped along at under 4:20/km reasonably comfortably, which was encouraging.  Hopefully, with another four days of easy training I will have loosened up some more.

Natural Bridges National Monument

Owachoma Bridge

When travelling the US and Canada for a year in a campervan in 1985/86, I had the opportunity to run in some places of awe-inspiring beauty.  Even though some of the runs were quite short, I still remember them well and an 8.5 mile run in Natural Bridges National Monument in Utah is a good example.

We were there in mid-January, the depths of winter at an altitude of 6500ft, and had the entire campground and National Park to ourselves.  It was cold and crisp, and I can remember standing outside our van after dark looking up at a brilliantly starlit night sky in absolute silence and stillness watching for satellites and the more frequent flashing lights of airliners passing noiselessly far overhead.

Kachina Bridge

There was a scenic loop drive through the park that we travelled earlier with overlooks to the three spectacular natural rock bridges for which the park was named.  The road was well-surfaced, undulating and roughly followed the edges of a plateau with occasional views into the bordering canyons.  The vegetation was mostly pinyon-juniper forest with plenty of snow on the ground.  I can just remember cruising around the same loop the next morning soaking up the scenery and solitude, and feeling privileged to have it all to myself.

For yesterday's training, I just walked 5km, and for today ran an easy 6.5km with my daughter who is visiting the area.  I did feel a little looser and fresher today, so maybe my taper is working.

Wake up call?

I skipped the run back along Wamberal Beach to Terrigal
and ran on the road instead

Yesterday's easy 6km jog was anything but easy.  It was humid, which didn't help, but I felt lethargic from the outset and my legs just didn't want to run.

Today's Saturday Trotters' run was Enzo's Edventure, a particularly challenging 15km to which my fatigued legs were not looking forward.  I told myself that once the adrenalin and competitive juices started pumping I would find that I wasn't as tired as I thought.  I ran 3km to warm up but still didn't feel very inspired and then when we set out on our "Edventure" I struggled up the early steep hills, further back in the field than I have become accustomed to recently. Reminding myself that I'm supposed to be tapering, and hoping that I would find it easier as I warmed up, I tried not to worry and just settle into a comfortable pace.

As the run wore on, I did start catching people, including some of the early front-runners, but never felt comfortable.  My legs feel strong, but tired, and I'm not moving freely.  I also felt some twinges in my hamstrings on some of the steeper descents, possibly sciatic, and there's an unwelcome stiffness in my lower back.  I wimped out on the last section along the beach from Wamberal and ran the road alternative, telling myself that cambered soft sand was unwise when my bad right knee was also hurting, but I was probably just looking for an excuse not to make the run any harder than it already was.  My time of 1:15:00 for just under 15km wasn't as bad as feared, but wasn't achieved easily.

I was going to run 20-25km easy on the road tomorrow, but now think the smarter strategy would be to do a much shorter run, or maybe just a walk.  I will feel guilty about missing a longer run, but it's hard to see how missing it will be detrimental to my fitness for next weekend's Half Marathon.  I definitely need to freshen up.

How important is running

Keith (in green hoops) just ahead of me in a 3000m race in
Hamilton, NZ, in January 1979.

I have a long-time friend, Keith, who was a talented runner in his prime and with whom I have run many miles over the past forty years.  He has struggled with a knee problem over the last decade that has severely limited his ability to run, and despite doing some swimming and cycling for fitness, is desperate to get back to running.  Like me, running has played such a large part in his life and self-perception, that its absence really is depressing.

Keith has tried arthroscopy and various other treatments, and can walk without significant problems, but misses his running so much that he has booked in for a partial knee replacement next week.  If you Google "running with a partial knee replacement", you can find instances of runners doing so successfully.  You can also find a study that suggests no difference in knee replacement failure rates after seven years between two groups, one of whom exercised more vigorously than advised by their surgeons.  However, I couldn't find any website where doctors recommended running, especially long-distance running, after a partial or total knee replacement.

Partial and total knee replacement diagram
[Source:  Wikipedia]

I'm concerned for the welfare of my friend.  Although I understand completely what is driving him to have this surgery, I fear that his post-op resumption of running will risk failure of the joint replacement and maybe even leave him worse off than at present.  However, I also know that I don't know what I would do in the same situation.  Given that I hope to keep running for many years to come and already have one knee with problems, I suspect I will find out at some point.  In the meantime, I have my fingers crossed for a successful surgical outcome for Keith, and do hope he can realise his ambition to resume running.

Overtrained?

My run today took me along this stretch
of the Central Coast Highway

Peaking for an event can be as much a mental challenge as a physical challenge and the mental challenge has two dimensions.

The first is going into a race with confidence that you are in good shape.  This means an absence of injuries, a feeling of freshness, and the knowledge that your preparation has been good.

The second mental challenge can be tapering sufficiently, something I find difficult.  I don't think I can recall, in fifty years of racing, ever feeling during post-race analysis that I had tapered too much.  On the other hand, there have been plenty of times I have wondered whether I was over-trained or not sufficiently rested, when disappointed with a result.

Like many regular runners, I feel guilty when I cut back my training and worry that I will lose condition and put on weight.  My rational self tells me that I could probably not train at all for two weeks before a race and still do well, but I don't think I could cope mentally with such a strategy.  However, I do know that I need to ease up more than I do.

With eleven days to go to the Central Coast Half Marathon, I'm tired and over-trained.  I ran 16km this morning and although my legs felt strong, they also felt very tired, particularly on the climbs.  My pace was OK, but I need to work to retain that feeling of strength and lose that fatigue.  I tell runners I mentor that two weeks out from a marathon they should run 75% of the usual distance with 75% of the usual intensity, and for the last week, 50% of distance and intensity.  I met the distance goal today, but not the intensity goal.  I need to me more disciplined.

Grand Canyon...again

Early morning light as the descent begins

When travelling in the US in June of this year, I had yet another opportunity to run to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and return - my third time.  I feel very lucky, as an Australian living on the other side of the world, to have had so many chances to run in such a spectacular environment.

Reaching the Colorado River

The two previous times, I have visited the Canyon in the depths of winter and have had to deal with snow and ice at the higher elevations, but this time I was there in the early summer and had to deal with high temperatures.  (I heard later that a Japanese tourist had died from heat exhaustion on the same trail the previous day.)

Encountering a mule train on the ascent

Knowing it was going to be hot, I left just before dawn to jog the 3km to the Bright Angel Trailhead, and began my descent in the early light.  It's hard to describe how spectacular the scenery is.  There are overlapping canyon walls receding into the far distance, all becoming more luminescent as the sun rises.  Far below, the Colorado River runs out of sight in the seemingly bottomless canyon.  Of course, you can't run looking at the scenery because one misstep could send you over one of the sheer drops ever present to one side or the other as the trail switch-backs down into the abyss.  Instead, I stopped briefly and frequently to take it all in.

Halfway up the South Kaibab Trail

It wasn't cool, and by the time I reached the river 16km and just over two hours into the run, it was starting to get warm.  A few kilometres later after crossing the river on a high suspension bridge, I refilled my Camelbak with water at the small "ranch" there catering for campers and overnight lodgers, recrossed the river on another bridge and began what I knew would be a tough climb up the South Kaibab Trail.  I was hoping to run as much as possible, but as it got warmer I found it harder and my pace slowed.  There was very little running going on by the time I got to the top in hot conditions and the flattish 3km along the rim back to our motel room was a real grind.  My time was 5:50, a little faster than the last time I ran, but a lot slower than the first.

A spectator at the top of the climb

One day, I hope to run from "rim to rim" which will take some organisation, since the road distance between the two is 340km, though I did notice that there is a daily bus between the two in summer.....hmmmm!

I joined my regular Tuesday morning Trotters friends for their usual hilly course this morning.  I warmed up first with a few kilometres and felt very lethargic, but gradually got going.  I ran alright, but could feel my legs tying up on the hill climbs with fatigue from Sunday.  Otherwise, no apparent harm done by Sunday's run.

Hornsby to Brooklyn

My trail running club-mates on their way to Hornsby

The trail run from Hornsby to Brooklyn that I scouted two weeks ago for Terrigal Trotters was on yesterday morning.  As we travelled by train to the start at Hornsby, having car-pooled to Brooklyn, I wasn't feeling that fresh and wondered about the wisdom of my third 42km tough trail run in fifteen days.  On the plus side, I had already determined that I would be tapering, and hopefully freshening up, over the next two weeks before having a crack at the Central Coast Half Marathon.  On the negative side, I had a number of niggles - lower back, quads, right heel - that could all turn into something more serious when I was running tired and long.

The first creek crossing proved a challenge

If I didn't feel an obligation to participate in an event I had organised, maybe I wouldn't have run, but the camaraderie on the train revived my spirits.  It had rained all night and most of the previous day, and more rain was forecast, but miraculously it had stopped as we set out on the run north along The Great North Walk.  Only a few kilometres into the run we encountered a flooded creek which took time and care to cross and we wondered what other challenges we would meet but the rest of the run turned out fairly routine.  Somehow, I ended up running on my own pretty much the whole way, with a faster group of five ahead of me and a slower group of four some way behind.  It was probably for the best, since I would have run harder as part of the leading group and perhaps risked injury.  Running on my own, I did things at my own comfortable pace, though still became very tired over the last third of the course.  The climbs were relentless, often involving huge step-ups, and the descents never allowed you to relax.  The more tired I became the more reluctant I was to trust my leg muscles on the very technical trails.

I finished, tired and sore, particularly my suspect right heel, in 7:45.  This was a disappointingly slow time, but still 1:40 faster than two weeks ago.  The real test of any damage came today when I walked an easy 5km.  My heel was stiff and painful, but I think it will come good by tomorrow, and my legs and back are aching.  However, nothing seems bad enough to change my training plan which now involves a steady taper to the half marathon in two weeks.

Success?

Handing over to Les at the second change-over in this
morning's Club relay
[Photo courtesy of Jenny Barker]

It's a bit sad when you classify a race as a success because you didn't get injured, but that's how I feel about this morning's 5km leg in the Trotters annual Tag Team Time Trial.  Somehow I didn't record my time on my Garmin, but estimate it was about 21:00.  I could feel my right hamstring tugging a bit after 2km so backed off a little, but managed to maintain a good pace.  It wasn't a stellar performance because two runners I might hope to beat on a good day, Graham and Damo, both started around me and ran a little faster.  However, given my body hasn't fully recovered from last Sunday's trail marathon, I'm pretty happy.

It didn't look so rosy when I started my warm-up soon after 5am in the dark and light rain.  The first few kilometres were slow and hard work, and it was hard to believe that yesterday's easy 6.5km jog had finished with optimism that I would be moving freely today.  However, I stuck to my plan of running about 10km before the relay leg, and by the end of that time was happier with my flexibility and speed.

After the relay leg, I jogged 3km back home, and although my legs were tired, I don't feel like I have done any damage.

Nagging concern

Those were the days!  On my way to a Personal Best 14:26
5,000m in the 1977 Victorian Interclub A Grade Final

I ran a little harder this morning on my 10km to see whether my legs had loosened up at all.  The pace was faster, and though moving more freely than yesterday, I don't feel ready to run hard over a short distance as will be required in Saturday's club relay.  There's 48 hours to go, and with just light training planned, that may be enough to loosen up.

Getting a massage was suggested by a friend, but it doesn't seem sensible to try something new at this juncture.  I think I'm too "old school" anyway, and have a bias towards letting my body sort itself out.  I did resolve while running, however, to find out if there was anybody willing to take my place in the relay and am pursuing that option.

I also decided that if I am going to run, then I will warm up for at least 10km beforehand, including the planned run-throughs, and also that I won't try to run faster than a comfortable pace, particularly in the first kilometre.  After all, the event is just a bit of fun and there's not a lot riding on the result.

Risk mitigation

Runners wait at the first change-over in last year's club relay

I have committed to run one or two legs in an intra-club relay this coming Saturday morning.  The format matches teams of two, with teams picked by the organiser to ensure as close a finish as possible.  The race is over a 10km course and each member runs either one 5km leg, or the 2km and 3km leg on either side of the 5km leg.

My allocated partner and I are still discussing who will run which legs, but regardless, I will be running a lot faster than I have in recent times and that carries the risk of injury.  In my experience, most runners, including myself, don't want to let their relay teams down and give their all.  I'm afraid that if I still have fatigue and stiffness from last Sunday's hilly trail marathon, running as fast as I can will tear something.  Probably, if I was smart, I wouldn't have put my name down to participate.  But it is a club event, I enjoy relays, and I was unable to run last year because of injury.

Action at the second change-over last year

So my focus this week has been on mitigating the risk of an injury occurring.  On the plus side, three days after the marathon I can't identify any new injuries and my troublesome right heel seems to be functioning OK without serious pain.  The muscles which really took a buffeting on the steep hills - quads on the downs, and glutes on the ups - feel strong enough, but are stiff and lack flexibility.  I ran nearly 17km this morning at a fairly slow pace and wasn't moving well, though better by the finish.  The story was the same yesterday.  I'm trusting that flexibility will return if I keep training without forcing the pace, but I am running out of time with only two days to go.

The other precaution I will need to take is a long warm-up before the relay, including some fast run-throughs.  I will also try to persuade my relay partner to take the two shorter legs and leave the 5km to me, so I'm not required to run quite so fast.  However, to be fair, he may have his own reasons for also wanting the longer leg, so I need to be ready for either outcome.

Conflicts of Interest

With my old running friends at the 2012 London Olympics

In 2012 I travelled to London to watch the London Olympics with old running friends.  Although we attended many different sports, our primary interest was in the running events, and those we couldn't attend in person, we tried to watch live on TV.

Today there has been a lot of news coverage about the World Anti Doping Authority (WADA) finding that systemic drug cheating has been occurring in Russia, and particularly by Russian athletes at the London Olympics.  Despite Russia's protestations, I suspect that the drug cheating is even more wide-spread than WADA has described.  It's like the drug-testing itself, it only formally identifies instances where the proof of cheating is incontrovertible, and doesn't address those instances where it looks likely but cannot be proved.

The start of the Women's 5000m Final

Some months ago, there were stories in the press about the possibility that athletes trained by the former US marathon star, Alberto Salazar, were using prohibited drugs.  It has been denied and nothing has been proved, although I think there is a formal investigation underway.  Some of the allegations revolved around research being done to determine how much of some banned drugs could be taken before athletes would test positive.  I'll bet that there are coaches and organisations in other countries doing the same research.  I guess their self-justification is that if the athlete doesn't fail the threshold-based drug tests, then they haven't broken the rules or gained unfair advantage, but they are kidding themselves.

There have also been leaked IAAF documents in the past year suggesting that performance-enhancing drug use is widespread, particularly among African distance runners, and there have been recent instances of high-profile African marathon runners being banned for drug use.

The start of the Women's 1500m Final

The rewards for cheating athletes, their coaches and their managers are immense.  The kudos is often accompanied by huge financial rewards and increased opportunities.  Ethics and fair play will undoubtedly be ignored by some in the face of such incentives.  The only solution is regulation and high quality testing with severe penalties for transgressions.

However, the WADA findings also seem to suggest corruption on the part of those organisations responsible for enforcing the rules, including the top echelons of the International Amateur Athletics Federation (IAAF).  I suspect that there are other organisers of major athletic meetings and city marathons who will turn a blind eye, or even conspire with elite athletes to hinder drug-testing, in order to have big names at their events.  The rewards for them are similar - kudos, money and opportunity.

Everywhere you look there are conflicts of interest and the only solution involves top-down reform as is the case with other major sports that have been in the news.  Sadly, I've become incredibly cynical.  As much as I want to believe in the integrity of the world's best distance runners, I simply cannot get excited about their performances any more.  I'm not even interested in who the world's best marathon runners are because I simply don't trust in the integrity of the sport.

I joined my usual Tuesday morning running buddies today for 9km with a few hills.  My legs felt wooden in my warm-up and I was happy to follow the pack during the run, with my quads, in particular, feeling very tired.  However, I finished in reasonable shape and will try running a bit further tomorrow, but with no pressure.

Deep Space Mountain Marathon

Plenty of kangaroos in Orroral Valley

My 5km jog on Saturday morning didn't fill me with confidence.  It wasn't hard, but I wasn't cruising as easily as I would have hoped the day before a big race.  It was humid, and I always think that has an enervating effect, but nevertheless, it made me wonder how I was going to manage the 42km Deep Space Mountain Marathon the next day.  Have faith in your preparation, I told myself!

I drove down to Canberra on Saturday afternoon and stayed with relatives on Saturday night, sneaking out at 5:30am for the one hour drive to the Orroral Valley where the race started from the site of a dismantled space tracking station.  I love the mountain country south from Canberra and enjoyed the unhurried drive on a beautiful cool Sunday morning.  Four years ago, I had completed my 660km hike along the Australian Alps Walking Track at Namadgi, just south of Canberra, and the race would be along a small section of the same track.

Early creek crossing

There wasn't much going on when I arrived at the start location apart from hundreds of kangaroos grazing nearby.  I walked and jogged a little to loosen up then went to the start line for the race briefing by the organiser, John Harding.  He was a good marathon runner, and I ran second to him (2:32:13) in the one of the earliest Canberra marathons (1977), nearly 40 years ago.  We've both changed a bit!

Cruising?

I knew the race would be low-key, but the field was much smaller than I anticipated, with just 20 runners.  The later events - Half Marathon, 10km and 5km - had larger numbers.  That didn't bother me much and I quickly moved to the back of the field as we set off on the short (and only) stretch of sealed road up a gradual hill.  I'm learning to settle into a rhythm early in a race without worrying about what everybody else is doing.  With age, it is easy to get into oxygen debt quickly if you go out too hard.  I think it probably has something to do with the cardio-vascular system starting more slowly.

Beautiful sub-alpine scenery

The course was a double out-and-back to the site of the old Honeysuckle Creek Space Tracking Station (hence the race name), climbing over the shoulder of Mount Tennent, along a fire-trail that had some very steep ascents and descents, and undulated the rest of the way.  My plan was to run as many of the hills as I could on the first lap and then try and run the same hills on the second lap.  I had confidence that my comparative advantage would be up the hills and that's the way it worked out.  By the time I reached the highest point on the way out at 7.5km, I had moved into the front half of the field.  However, I didn't make up much ground on the descents, which were positively scary and dangerous in a few places.  Loose fine gravel and exceptional steepness had me fearing my feet would skid out from under me at any moment and I took very short steps, just hoping to stay upright.

I was tired at the half-way point, reached in just over two hours and surprised to learn I was now seventh, though with three or four more runners within a kilometre behind me.  I told myself that if I could run up all the hills on the second lap, nobody would catch me and I might even catch some of the runners up ahead.  At the turn on the second lap (3/4 mark of the race), though very tired, I was indeed closer to the runners in front and further clear of those behind.  I broke my rule about running up all of the hills with about 8km to go, but my legs were almost non-functional.  Neverthess, I moved into fifth at this stage and was now less than 200 metres behind two other runners.

Running in to the finish

Unfortunately, this was the highest elevation point and there followed the 4km of downhill, some of it steep and some very steep, and the two runners got away from me.  When I emerged from the forest, with 2km to go, they were both still in sight, and I managed to close to about 100m of fourth place by the finish.  My legs were totally hammered by the end, and my chronic right heel injury was sore, but I was happy with my run, finishing in 4:08 with 42.3km on my Garmin.  Given the course topography, I don't think I could have done much better, and I thoroughly enjoyed the challenges of the climbs and the beautiful alpine and sub-alpine forest running.  There were times on the run, even when exhausted, when I thought life couldn't get much better for a near-65 year old.

For today, I just walked 5km, and though my right heel was a bit sore and my legs still stiff and tired, there didn't seem to be any new injuries.