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.

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.

Fred Lester

Fred Lester in full flight.

I like to think that I'm a self-coached runner, but know that there are people I have encountered during my running career who have had a profound influence on me, even though I might not have acknowledged it at the time.  One such person is Fred Lester, who was coach of the YMCA Amateur Athletic Club when I first joined at the age of 19 in 1970, and who remained a respected friend for the rest of his life.  He died in 2010 at the age of 87.

Although I didn't know it at the time we first met, and didn't bother to ask, Fred had already had a very interesting life.  All I knew was that he was also Secretary of the Victorian Marathon Club, wore an Australian Army slouch hat, spoke with a strong German accent, and was always willing to provide coaching advice.  As young twenty-year-olds, with the world at our feet, we were often cruel to the resilient Fred.  We jibed him about which side he fought for in World War II, when in fact he was a German Jew who had escaped Germany just before the war as a boy and ultimately ended up enlisted in the Australian Army.  He wore panty-hose in winter to keep warm, long before similar running-specific clothing was sold, and encouraged us to do likewise.  None of us did, but we certainly gave him a hard time about it.  He often prescribed a track session when we turned up at the old Yarra Park grass track in Melbourne for evening training and we would studiously ignore his advice, and do our own thing.

Fred Lester with his hero Emil Zatopek.

In my mind, the Fred story that impressed me the most was that he needed to make a pit stop during a marathon in his younger years, and rather than seeking cover, apparently just squatted in the middle of the road, did what was necessary, and continued on.  He had been a proficient marathon runner in his day, always looked superbly fit during all the time I knew him, and had an enormous passion for athletics.

He was an excellent coach of younger athletes and always had a few coming up through the ranks, mostly via the Catholic School system.  He drove them and us to races in his van and we often wondered what their Catholic parents would think if they knew their children were under the tutelage of a proud card-carrying member of the Australian Communist Party.  To his absolute credit he kept his running and political lives totally separate, though was always quick to rail against authority and bureaucracy.  Fred didn't tolerate fools, and I can remember hearing him say "Christ, you took your bloody head out there, why didn't you use it?" on more than one occasion after I had messed up a race tactically.  Many runners from those years have other favourite Fred sayings.

Fred laying down the law to some junior
volunteers at a running event.

Apart from encouragement, Fred's greatest impact on me during those days was perhaps via the Victorian Marathon Club which provided a range of road, and occasionally track, races for runners to augment the official VAAA races of the time.  I loved those races, which gave me a chance to shine in smaller fields, especially as I became a better runner.  Winning the VMC's King of the Mountains and being first Australian home in several VMC Marathons, the latter leading to trips to New Zealand marathons at a critical stage of my career, were highlights still bright in my memory.

I now also realise that Fred, leading by example, probably sparked my interest in creating events for runners of all standards, something which provides me with great satisfaction to this day.  One event he created, the annual Emil Zatopek 10,000m track race in Melbourne, continues to attract the very best runners in Australia each December more than fifty years since its inception in 1961.

I haven't done justice to Fred's contributions to me and running in this brief blog post.  You can read an excellent article published in the Melbourne Age newspaper about Fred's very interesting life here.  It's worth the read.  The collected volumes of the Victorian Marathon Club Newsletter, available here, give some indication of how much work Fred put into the running scene over many years.

For my training today, I ran an easy 11km.  I was tired after yesterday's 21km, but I was pleased with the underlying strength I'm starting to feel in my legs and my average training pace is gradually improving.

Finding the boundaries

Coast Road in North Avoca tested my limits this morning.

The Holter Monitor involves having five electrodes, connected by wires to a battery-powered recording unit a bit larger than a smartphone, stuck to various parts of my chest for 24 hours.  The device will record my heart activity and I'm supposed to note the time of any periods when I feel breathless or notice heart palpitations.  I was worried the electrodes would become detached while I slept, but the technician did a good job of taping them down, and they were still there this morning.

Wamberal Beach from my walk this morning.

The Respiratory Specialist yesterday, while not encouraging me to run, implied that it wasn't necessarily dangerous, just that it would be difficult and uncomfortable.  I didn't want to confirm his prediction, but did want to get my heart-rate high enough today to provide good evidence of the occasional problems I have experienced in the last month.

Thursday, as usual, started with supervision of the 6:00am track session at Terrigal Haven on what was a beautiful sunny, and a little humid, morning.  I watched the twenty or so runners go through their paces (seven times 800m with a minute recovery between each) in the 45 minute session before they headed off to their breakfast coffees, or work, or to get their children ready for school, or all three.  I always feel a bit lazy, being retired, that they have to rush off while my day continues at a more leisurely pace.

Terrigal Beach this morning.

I returned to my car, donned my radio and headphones, and set out on a 7km walk that would include several hills I thought steep enough to test my impaired cardio-vascular system.  Rather than my usual stroll, I walked a little more briskly to encourage the symptoms.  The first significant hill climbs up the Scenic Highway out of Terrigal and I fully expected to succumb to breathlessness as I maintained a good pace, but I was surprised to reach the top without a problem.  It was good that I was feeling better than expected, but bad that there was no discernible heart arrhythmia for the Holter Monitor to record.  A little nonplussed, I continued on down Tramway into North Avoca, circled through the beachside streets and tackled the second steep hill, Coast Road.  This hill is steep enough to always be a serious challenge when running, and I couldn't envisage walking briskly up it without testing my current limits.

Terrigal Haven this morning.

Sure enough, after about 100 metres of serious climbing, I felt my heart racing and my blood pressure dropping.  I had to stop for fear of passing out, and just stood quietly for a minute, ready to sink gracefully to the side of the road if necessary.  After a minute or so, my equilibrium was restored and I continued on.  However, a few hundred metres later, at another short sharp little pinch, the same feeling enveloped me and I had to stop and stand still for a short period, again ready to cushion my fall to the road if I fainted.

It was encouraging, though, that once equilibrium was restored, I felt fine and could continue on at a good pace so long as the grade wasn't too steep.  I walked another couple of kilometres down into Terrigal before returning along the beach promenade to The Haven and my car, where I noted the times I felt unwell for the doctor to compare to the heart monitor.  I'm sure he will have something to look at now.

Perseverance is not always good

Deep Vein Thrombosis is the formation
 of a blood clot (thrombus) in a deep
 vein, predominantly in the legs.

There are whole worlds out there that I know little or nothing about.  I'm a bit of a current affairs nut, and an avid reader on a wide range of subjects, but there's nothing like a new injury or illness as motivation to expand your knowledge of a subject.

During my running life I have had serious injuries to my Achilles tendons, knees and lower back, as well as the usual torn and strained muscles, tendons and ligaments.  In each case, I've learned a lot about those injuries, including through missteps I have made in dealing with them.

I like to think that my own experiences allow me to offer soundly-based views on the running-linked injuries of friends when asked.  In the case of soft tissue injuries, I generally advise patience and the avoidance of activities that worsen the symptoms.  If something seems more serious or inexplicable, I usually suggest starting with a doctor.  They have a range of diagnostic tools at their disposal and a broader range of knowledge about the possible causes than ancillary or alternative health care professionals.  I'm not a fan of starting with the latter because I believe their field of knowledge and the tools they have available make it less likely they will consider all of the possible sources of a problem.  This can lead to misdiagnosis and a delay in recovery.

Pulmonary Embolism  is a blockage of the main artery
of the lung or one of its branches by a substance
 that has travelled from elsewhere in the body
through the bloodstream (embolism).

In the last two weeks, through doctors, the Web, and articles given to me by others, I've become a lot wiser about the subjects of Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT), Pulmonary Embolism (PE) and Atrial Fibrillation (AFib), and their associated symptoms, treatments and prognoses.  Of course, there's much more I don't know about these subjects, but one thing I have learned is that runners need to be much quicker in seeking the opinion of a doctor if they start to feel inexplicably short of breath, dizzy or light-headed, or experience chest pains, hyperventilation or persistent leg pain.  There can be life-threatening medical conditions underlying these symptoms and endurance runners are at higher risk of developing them, especially if they have a long background of endurance training.

Atrial Fibrillation is the most common cardiac arrhythmia
(heart rhythm disorder).  The normal regular electrical impulses
generated by the sinoatrial node are overwhelmed by
disorganized electrical impulses usually originating in the
roots of the pulmonary veins, leading to irregular conduction
of ventricles impulses which generate the heartbeat.

Many runners, and particularly males, think seeking medical advice about these symptoms is a waste of time and/or a sign of weakness.  All endurance athletes get used to dealing with fatigue and injury "niggles" and there's a strong temptation to dismiss them as a "cost of doing business".  Two friends, both distance runners, have recently been diagnosed with PE, but only after persevering with their symptoms for much longer than me and ending up in hospital emergency wards.

I will now be quick to advise any runners suffering from the symptoms described above to urgently seek the advice of a doctor.  Early intervention is important and delay could be fatal.  It's just not worth the risk of persevering.

After mentoring this morning's track session at the Terrigal Haven, I walked for about 6km, feeling fresh and healthy the whole way, and wishing I could be running my usual post-track session 11km.

Having faith

Gardiner's Creek Trail

The plan for this morning's run was an easy 15km just to work up a bit of a sweat and let my body know I am still running seriously.  I chose a course that included a good chunk of the Gardiners and Scotchmans Creek bike paths that are a favourite running haunt of mine in Melbourne.  The excellent bike paths of Melbourne set it apart from other Australian cities, except maybe for Canberra, and the network is now vast, providing endless safe and scenic running options.

As it turned out, a warm and blustery pollen-laden wind made the run quite hard, exacerbated by a right knee that was more sore than it should have been.  By the half-way mark of what turned out to be a 16.5km run, I wasn't feeling very feisty and was glad I didn't have another 34km to go.  When you're tapering you expect to start feeling good, and when you don't it can be troubling.

Gardiner's Creek Trail

I kept telling myself that I must have faith in my fitness and not worry too much about how I feel on any particular day.  I was running strongly on Sunday and there's no reason why I would have lost any form since then.  Sometimes, after a long day's travel, as I had yesterday, you can be a bit stale and lack rhythm.  The pollen and warmth could also be a factor.  I know that on race day, Sunday, I will front up, full of adrenalin and ready to go.  Today's run will be forgotten.

I also know that having faith in your preparation is key during a race.  Most of my personal best times have come in races when I was absolutely exhausted at the half-way mark and running very fast by previous standards.  In those races, I somehow maintained the pace through the second half, though it was very hard work.  Success depended on staying mentally engaged and having faith that my preparation would see me through.  Of course, the preparation is the most important factor, but success also depends on having the confidence to deploy and fully utilise that preparation.

Tapering

Start of the 1977 ACT Marathon (I'm in there somewhere)

Tapering for a marathon used to be one of my favourite times.  The training pressure comes off, and you can run for less time and less intensely without guilt.  If your training has gone well, pleasant anticipation of the race builds and visions of success become almost palpable.  As your body freshens up and minor injuries abate, you feel stronger and more capable as each day passes.

Conversely, tapering can be a worrying time.  Rationality can go out the window and emotions can take over.  After training hard for months, you wonder about the wisdom of reduced training intensity and fret about losing your edge, or putting on weight.  A lot of self-examination goes on.  Small niggles becomes potentially serious injuries.  Every training run becomes a test of your readiness, and if the run is hard work, you question whether you are ill or over-trained, or maybe under-trained.  If anybody coughs near you, or complains of feeling unwell, your first thought is of your own health, and not theirs.  There is a temptation to modify your diet to include more carbohydrates and build your energy reserves, maybe even precede it with a depletion phase.

Nearing the end of the 1977 ACT Marathon (2nd, 2:32)

Over the years, I have fallen foul of all of these concerns, and maybe still do (see post titled The idea forms).  However, when asked by others for advice about tapering, my response tends to be more rational.  I think two weeks of taper is enough, with training distances and intensity reduced to 75% of full load in the first week, and 50% in the second week.  However, it's hard to generalise about the appropriate level of tapering, and some runners need not cut their training intensity by that much.  Having said that, I don't think I have ever felt, post-race, that I tapered too much.

Otherwise, I like to keep things as normal as possible, sticking with the usual training routines and diet.  The very act of tapering will lead to a build-up of the body's energy stores, and there is risk attached to changing diet and habits.  It's worth staying away from sick people and catching up on any sleep deficit.  Finally, I would advise having faith in the training you have done and not fretting about losing condition or feeling over-tired on any runs in the taper period.

For reasons discussed in yesterday's post, Get fit quick, I only plan a one week taper for the Melbourne Marathon on 13 October, and am still training relatively hard this week.  I expected this morning's run to be difficult after yesterdays 37km road run, but it went better than hoped.  It wasn't fast by any means, but the 11.5km  passed by easily enough and my legs did not feel too fatigued.  My right Achilles tendon was quite stiff and sore, but that was anticipated, and my right knee was less painful than expected.  Overall, the run was encouraging and I feel my short-term fitness strategy may be working.

Hidden treasures

Trails atop Kincumba Mountain

Summer has come early to the NSW Central Coast, and it was even warm for the Thursday morning track group going through their paces at 6:00am at the Terrigal Haven.  By the time I headed out for my run around 7:00am it was warm and sunny, but not oppressive.  After the easy recovery day yesterday, I hoped to run about 15km today, and since I was car-less after the track session (Sharon attended the session and drove my car home), I picked a course that included some nice trail and avoided some of the busiest peak hour roads.

Looking east over Avoca Beach from Kincumba Mountain

My route was up and over Kincumba Mountain, one of the hidden jewels in our area.  I suspect that there are people who drive around the base of Kincumba Mountain for much of their lives without ever venturing into the 700 hectare reserve, and they don't know what they are missing.  Atop the mountain, you could be hundreds of kilometres from suburbia. It's far enough from the roads to avoid traffic noise and the only sounds tend to be those of the birdlife.  The climbs on the trails through the forest up the 200m high mountain are steep, but runnable, while the top is almost plateau-like with some nice long flattish fire-trails where you can stride out.  But perhaps the best thing of all about Kincumba Mountain is that you can frequently run right across, as I did this morning, and not see another person.  You feel that you have the whole place to yourself, a precious pleasure amid the hubbub of the Central Coast.  And, to those in the know - mostly runners, mountain bikers and hikers - there are other mountains around the Central Coast where you can enjoy the same solitude.

My right knee was very sore during the run, but I tried to tread carefully and avoid stress on the inside where the pain is greatest.  I suspect I also have some bone bruising at the top of the tibia, but that's a layman's diagnosis based on previous MRI's and the prevailing pain at the time.  On the positive side, my Achilles tendon wasn't too bad and for the last 5km, when I came down from the mountain and ran along the roads with more reliable footing, I felt like I was moving well, and with some stamina for a change.  It's probable that the reduced pain in the Achilles was allowing me a longer stride length and better running form.  Whatever the reason, the beautiful run over Kincumba Mountain followed by a good stride out along the road back to McMasters Beach, made for a great morning session.  It was good to be alive.

Waiting for momentum

Part of the Terrigal Trotters track group going through
their early morning paces at Terrigal Haven

This is my 100th post in this blog, and I'm sure all readers are tired of hearing about my injuries and illnesses day after day.  Yet, this is the life of a runner, and I wanted this blog to be a true record of how I was feeling about my running and my journey towards a goal.  When I started, I optimistically thought it would be a tale of ever-increasing fitness, hopefully taken to a new level, on the way to a sub-3:00 hour Melbourne Marathon on 13 October of this year.  It has actually turned out to be a record of the setbacks, disappointments and frustrations that have been the more common theme of my running career, and many running careers.

With only five weeks to Melbourne, the best I can hope for is to run faster than I did at the Macleay River Marathon back in June (3:24), but I'm trying not to get too hung up on what is an acceptable time.  Instead, I will treat it as a long training run, and to that end, have entered some Australian Masters Games events (5,000m track and 8km cross-country) in Geelong during the week before.  It's a way of telling myself that what I run in the marathon is not that important.

To get serious about running a good marathon I need a few months where I have training and psychological momentum.  This isn't something that can be turned on with a switch.  My strategy will be to keep plugging away at around 100km per week, injuries permitting, and wait for a feeling of well-being to return.  With that, will come motivation and serious planning for the next marathon, probably in Hobart in January.

It was yet another beautiful morning on the NSW Central Coast, and I enjoyed watching the track group run their 300m repetitions on the grass at The Haven before setting out on my own regular 16.5km run.  My right Achilles was quite stiff and sore after last night's run.  It feels like it has set in concrete and doesn't have the flexibility to let me run properly.  In my early days, I would have forced it to loosen up, ignoring the pain and consequences, but these days, I try and modify my gait to avoid undue pressure and lessen the pain.  This means a shortened stride length and this morning's early kilometres, up the steep hills of the Scenic Highway, were run at little more than a shuffle.  I must have looked pathetic.....and old.  At the top of the hill, a girl joined my route from a side street just in front of me.  She seemed to be running very slowly, but I wasn't catching her.  This didn't help my mood.

As the Achilles gradually became more loose, my speed and form improved and I slowly passed the girl.  Although very tired from last night's running, my legs did feel a little stronger as I went further, and I felt lighter on my feet, almost enjoying the flats and downhills.  This lightness evaporated in the last few kilometres and I was exhausted when I finished.  Pathetic, really, for just a slow 16.5km run.  However, a week ago at the same time I could only manage a 6km run so I guess that's progress (from a low base).

Day off

Delivering the pre-race briefing before the 2012 Great
North Walk 100s trail races

I never did manage to get out for a run or walk today, but I doubt that has done me any harm, given that I was stiff and sore last night after the City to Surf.  My right arch has been occasionally painful, but it's hard to know whether it is any worse for the weekend's running.
I was planning an easy day anyway, but the opening at 6:00am of entries for the Great North Walk 100s (GNW100s) trail races, for which I'm the Race Director, left me with a lot of processing and a reason to stay at my desk. 

What was already going to be a busy day, wasn't helped by a power cut in late afternoon, and I still have many entries to review as I update this blog.  Of course, we could pay for online entry processing, but given the small size of the field we'll accept (200 entries), the cost per entry is excessive.  Additionally, the extreme nature of the event, I like to try and review the entry qualifications of each applicant before accepting them.

The event is a labour of love, so I don't mind the extra work.  This will be the 9th running, and although there are times I regret ever having started it, I generally think it has been a worthwhile project for my retirement.  The relish the participants show for the challenge and the enthusiasm with which my Terrigal Trotters clubmates support the event is very rewarding.

While I was working full-time, I seldom had the time to help at community or sporting events.  Now I'm retired, I have the opportunity to make up for those years, and I'm lucky enough to have a number of running-related activities that I enjoy helping, including organising the GNW100s.

Orthotics or not

Representing Croydon Harriers in the UK National
League 3000m Steeple (9:43.8, 4th) in May 1975

I put my orthotic insoles into my running shoes this morning with the intention of running an 11.5 km course after the Thursday morning track session at the Terrigal Haven.  I hadn't worn them since Tuesday morning's run, and they felt uncomfortable as I walked around during the track session.

Afterwards, as usual, I returned to my parked car and stripped off to prepare for my own run.  My feet still didn't feel comfortable with the insoles, so I decided to take a chance and remove them for my run.  It was at this point I realised that I had put my orthotic insoles into my shoes without removing the original shoe insoles.  Duh!

This still left me in a quandary as to whether or not to I should run with the orthotic insoles.  My preferred long-term option is to return to the regular insoles, but as mentioned yesterday, I have short-term concerns that my sore arch still has some way to go before reaching full function.  I had managed an easy 5km yesterday, but would a harder 11.5km this morning set me back.  To a non-running reader this issue would seem trivial, or even insignificant.  But most runners can identify with the small decisions that need to be made on a daily basis with respect to shoes, socks and insoles, especially when dealing with an injury.  What works best, and what is the cost of a poor decision?

I took a calculated risk and went with the regular insoles (originally supplied with the shoes) and could immediately feel the difference.  The ground felt harder underfoot and both calf muscles were very tight.  This wasn't surprising and confirmed to me the wisdom of ditching the orthotic insoles as soon as feasible.  They are more cushioned than the regular insoles, with the advantage of softening foot impact, but I fear the extra cushioning will atrophy the foot muscles that usually take the strain.  Similarly, the orthotic insoles have a slightly higher heel and this will lead, over time, to the Achilles tendon and calf muscles shortening.  This is fine as a short- or medium-term strategy for dealing with Achilles tendon injuries, but I believe there is a cost in terms of stride length and running balance.

My arch was maybe a little more sore at the end of the run, and the run seemed very hard work, especially the two long climbs.  However, I was happier when I saw my time was just under 58 minutes.  I had set out cautiously and slowly and never felt like I was trying to run fast.  Assuming my arch doesn't become more sore in the next 24 hours, I'll have to decide whether to use the new, lighter and lower (in the arch), insoles that arrived in the mail today.

No silver bullets

Oh to be young again....
Leading in a 3000m Steeplechase at Croydon Harriers
track in 1975 (finished 2nd in 9:34)

It's still too early to say the worst of my right arch injury is over, but I am getting more optimistic.  I ran 6km after supervising this morning's track session at The Haven and finished no worse than I started.  Maybe I'll run further on Saturday, although the scheduled Trotters' run is Muzza's Run which, at 16km, may be just a little too far to step up.  However, there are some obvious short-cuts that will give me 10-12km, and that will work fine.

I give myself no chance of getting fit in time for a sub-3 hour Melbourne Marathon in October, although it's still possible I might run it for training (I have already entered), with my eye on the Cadbury Hobart Marathon on 12 January 2014 for a serious attempt at a fast time.  Even writing such an objective down, makes me apprehensive.  As the past few months have shown, I'm very vulnerable to injury, and just marking a date on the calendar seems to risk disappointment.

For the moment, my focus is just on getting fit again.  Diagnosis by Google seemed to indicate the likelihood of a ligament injury, as discussed in a previous post, and it seems ligament injuries can take six to ten weeks to heal (I'm generalising, of course).  It is now almost six weeks since I sustained the injury, so provided I don't set myself back, it does seem feasible that I will be back to hard training in four weeks.

Over the years, I have definitely become more cynical about the treatment of injuries, especially muscle and ligament tears.......or maybe I have just become lazy and cheap.  I believe that most soft tissue injuries will repair without third party intervention, given time and rest.  We are all very tempted, including me, to seek ways of shortening recovery time through medication, physiotherapy, etc., when we sustain an injury.  But there are no silver bullets.  Injuries take as long as they take to get better, and there are few short-cuts.  It may seem that treatment is making a difference, but usually those treatment regimes take time (and money), and during that time, the body is healing itself anyway.  My theory is that, at best, you are probably just fiddling at the margin.

I absolutely accept there are injuries that do need medical intervention, and I'm no doctor.  My advice to athletes who ask me about their injuries is to start with a doctor if they are in doubt about the nature of the problem.  The doctor has access to the best diagnostic tools and can refer you to specialists or recommend a range of treatments, including from allied health professionals.  If you start with these allied health professionals, then maybe not all possible diagnoses and treatments will be considered. 

Melbourne evocations

Melbourne High School with the sports ground in the
foreground where our favourite MHSOB track sessions
was "quarters 'til you chuck".

I walked 5km again this morning, trying keep my weight on the outside of my right foot and thus limit any stress on my injured right arch.  I got through the walk pretty much pain-free, but am still quite anxious about the arch's recuperation.  I'll try another 5km walk tomorrow, and then some jogging and walking on Sunday if all is well.

Melbourne, where I am staying for a week, is inextricably tied to my running career.  Almost everywhere I drive, run or walk through the suburbs evokes memories of my early running life.  I did run some cross-country races in school, but it was really only when I graduated from Melbourne High School, enrolled at Monash University, and joined the Melbourne High School Old Boys (MHSOB) Athletic Club, that my serious running career began.

Getting changed (me in foreground) after a run in the
dunes and a swim at Cape Schanck

Although I had just joined MHSOB, where I ran lower grade middle distance events with the likes of future Olympian, Chris Wardlaw, it was the friendship I established at Monash with JB, a fellow Economics 101 student and excellent high school athlete, that really set me on a distance running path.  Apart from introducing me to the exceptionally talented distance running fraternity at Monash University, where JB had much more credibility than me, he lived near me and we began training together.  JB also belonged to a different athletic club, YMCA, whose membership included a number of distance runners with whom I began to train regularly. 

In retrospect, it is obvious that during this period (my late teens), the exposure I had to elite athletes, the running friends I made, and the very modest success I enjoyed, set the course for the rest of my life.  My training was somewhat erratic and experimental, but I was learning by observing and doing.  Some extracts from my training diary are illustrative of my life during this time (with comments in italics).

11 Oct 69 -  Pre-season Trials 1 Mile, Dolamore Oval, 4:51.0, unplaced
I have memories of running at Dolamore Oval with Chris Wardlaw for MHSOB and this may have been one of those times.

8 Feb 70 - YMCA Club Championships 100 Yards, 11.2, 5th; YMCA Club Championships 220 Yards, 25.5, 5th
I wasn't yet a member of YMCA, but they let me run in their Club Champs.

16 Mar 70 - 10am. Freddy's warm-up, 10 X 50 Yards fast.  Tired.
Fred Lester was a German refugee and a renowned eccentric figure in Australian running, founding the Victorian Marathon Club (VMC) and coaching YMCA athletes.  He often set our session training programs, though we didn't always follow them.  As I recall, his warm-up was 8 laps striding the straights and jogging the bends.

19 Mar 70 - 9pm.  10 Miles on the road with JB.  Tired.
JB and I frequently trained at 9pm at night.  I can remember, on some hot nights, we climbed over the fence into the (closed) local public swimming pool to cool off after our runs.  We lived about one mile from each other and later, when John got his car, we would often drive somewhere different on those nights and run there for a change, enjoying the liberation of having our own transport.

22 Mar 70 - Sprinting in sand dunes.  Tired.
We stayed at a YMCA club-mate's family holiday house in Rye back beach for a training weekend.  There were also very competitive games of cricket and volleyball, and games of cards lasting long into the night.

4 Apr 70 - 2pm.  Wimmera AC Meeting 880 yards, 2:06.6, unplaced, 220 yards, 25.7, 5th (against Peter Norman!).  Felt sick because of lack of sleep and bad food.
We drove up to Horsham late on the Friday night from Melbourne, after a volleyball game, and camped at the oval where the running was held the next day.  Peter Norman had won an Olympic silver medal in the 200m in Mexico less than two years earlier, so lining up against him over 220 yards was quite a buzz.

11 Apr 70 - Strathmerton Country Meeting, 2 X 880 yards, 2:09.0 and 2:05.5, unplaced, 3 mile jog.  Tired.
We drove up to Strathmerton late on Friday night, after a volleyball game.  We camped next to the track and fellow athletes included Olympic athletes, Raelene Boyle and Ray Rigby.  The latter, a shot putter, was also astonishingly good at the sprints and high jump.

15 Apr 70 - 3pm.  Represented Universities vs Armed Forces in 800m at HMAS Cerberus, 2:04.5, unplaced.  Exhausted.
I was just making up the numbers for the Universities, and anybody could run.  Monash University, which I was attending, had a number of national and international standard athletes and I was just an also-ran.  Ironically, two years later, I was representing the Armed Forces at the same event, after being conscripted to the Australian Army, and running against some of my former team-mates.

1 May 70 - 1:30pm.  2 miles of Monash University Championships 10,000m.  Not very tired.
I can't remember this race, but suspect I was totally outclassed by the other runners and chucked it in.  Symptomatic of my lack of success over 10,000m on the track, which I always found to be a very tough race.  It made me suspect my toughness when the going got tough.

8 May 70 - 5pm.  Jog 1 mile, 4 X 100m sprints.  Slightly tired. (Hard game of volleyball at 10pm.)
Most of my running friends were very good all-round athletes and we played many seasons of Friday night volleyball at the Balwyn YMCA competition and sometimes on other weeknights in other competitions.

15 May 70 - No training - on way to Brisbane - heavy cold.
I had no car and often hitch-hiked to Brisbane to visit my grandparents and other relatives during university vacations.

6 Jun 70 - 11pm.  10 miles easy.  Very tired, came out in a rash.
I can still remember this run up towards Templestowe late on a Saturday night, probably indicative of my social life at the time.  It was an easy run but I came out in a strange rash when I got home and can remember showing it to my father who was a bit bemused as to why anybody would be out running at 11pm on a Saturday night (in heavy fog) anyway.

13 Jun 70 - 3pm.  APSOB Half Marathon, Yan Yean, 85:54.0 (6:33 per mile, beaten by Dick).  Exhausted.
During this time, I considered myself fortunate to be welcomed to many APSOB (Association of Public Schools Old Boys) events because of ex-Marcellin School friends in the YMCA Athletics Club.  I wouldn't have been happy about being beaten by Dick, who was a friend and reasonable runner in the YMCA Club, but someone I would have expected to beat.  This is probably unfair to Dick and a reflection of my ambitions rather than ability at the time.

20 Jun 70 - 3:30pm.  2½ miles of VAAA 10,000m CCC, Cranbourne.  Pulled out because of knee injury (however, not serious).
Perhaps another example of me chucking it in when the going got tough.

5 Jul 70 - 11:30am.  8 miles orienteering.  Tired.
I remember competing in some of the first orienteering events in Victoria and this may have been one of them.

16 Jul 70 - 11am.  16 miles from Monash University.  Not very tired, but wet, frozen and miserable.
I can still remember arriving back from this run, which was along exposed roads through the windswept hills and paddocks of Melbourne's southeast, to the changing room at the Monash Sports Centre much to the amusement (and, I hoped, admiration) of two star Australian distance runners - Chris Wardlaw and, I think, Bruce Jones - who were about to set off for a shorter training run.

22 Aug 70 - 1:30pm.  VAAA Marathon Champs, Werribee, 2:44:55 (6:17 per mile), 7th.  Exhausted (20 - 24 miles was the worst), suffered from blisters near the end.
I can still remember sprinting some guy off in the last 100m to capture 7th place and the elation that I felt at being in the top 10 in a State championship.  I don't think I had any expectations as to time, but was pleased with the placing.  Afterwards, I felt that this must be my distance.

Drugs

Chris Wardlaw leading a race in his prime.

Drugs are a topical subject at present, in the news, and for me personally.

Asafa Powell and Tyson Gaye have just failed drug tests and won't be running in the upcoming World Championships.

Personally, I have been struggling with respiratory problems for a couple of years and had my latest medical appointment yesterday.  I had been using a prescribed asthma medication, Symbicort, and have now been switched by my doctor to Seretide.  Following a few recent respiratory issues, my doctor had also prescribed Prednisolone for a limited period.  However, as is my habit, I Googled the medications prescribed for me before taking them and discovered that a Therapeutic Use Exemption (TUE) is needed for Prednisolone if competing in sport.  Symbicort and Seretide are permitted, though the former must not be used excessively (700% more than prescribed).  I didn't bother filling the Prednisolone prescription.

Some argue that performance enhancing drugs should not be banned so that there is a level playing field for all athletes.  I think this is a flawed argument.  I believe there would be a race to the bottom and many vulnerable athletes would suffer permanent damage, and possibly death.  There are already celebrated cases of cyclists and runners dying in mysterious circumstances, possibly associated with the use of performance enhancing drugs.

A related question is the appropriate definition of performance enhancing.  An argument, made by a great Australian runner and coach, Chris Wardlaw, with whom I used to occasionally train and play golf in my younger days, was that anything that enabled an athlete to train harder, especially when injured, was a performance enhancing drug.  His view was that an important determinant of an athlete's competitiveness was the amount of training they were able to absorb.  If medical intervention was required to allow an athlete to continue to train or train harder, such as taking anti-inflammatories (even over-the-counter), because of a muscle tear, or similar, then Chris argued the anti-inflammatory was a performance enhancing drug.  I always thought Chris had a valid point, though it might be hard to draw the line.  For instance, what about knee surgery that ultimately gets an athlete running again, when otherwise, their career would be over?

I spent a lot of time mulling over Chris's argument, and agonising over my own occasional use of prescribed anti-inflammatory medications as I became a more serious runner.  I wanted to be ethically squeaky clean, but also thought the line Chris wanted to draw was too draconian and perhaps too blurry.  Ultimately, I came to the view that any drug or medical procedure that would make no difference to the performance of a healthy fully-trained athlete, was not performance enhancing.  This seems to be the principle underlying the WADA prohibited list as well.

I walked another 5km this morning, and will do the same tomorrow and start jogging a little on Friday.  There is still some minor discomfort in my right arch and I'm certainly not confident that I'm over the injury.  Fingers crossed!

Inspiration

Another day of no running, though I couldn't resist jogging a few metres on the grass while the Thursday morning track group went through their paces at The Haven.  I couldn't feel any pain, but it was only a few metres.



Some of the Thursday morning track group go through their
paces in the pre-dawn gloom.

I'm not an essential part of either of the track sessions I supervise each week, but I enjoy encouraging the athletes' efforts and am inspired by their commitment and effort.  I get great satisfaction from playing a small role in their development and watching "ordinary people do extraordinary things".  Within Terrigal Trotters and elsewhere, I have seen new runners discover that with regular and sensible training they can accomplish feats they never dreamed possible.  Their self esteem gets a boost, as does their quality of life.  It's easy to see some wish they had discovered the sport earlier while others recapture the joy of running they had experienced earlier in their life, but which had been lost to the pressures of family and work commitments.

Of course, no runner escapes injury if their career lasts long enough, and there's always someone struggling with a new injury or coming back from an injury.  I try to offer relevant advice and some encouragement, but everybody is different and nobody, including doctors, is infallible in diagnosing injuries or prescribing the correct treatment.   Runners have to learn to deal with uncertainty, and often disappointment.

If my planned 5km jog tomorrow morning is pain-free, or near enough, then I hope to return to my marathon training program.  Of course, it may not be that straight forward, but I am an optimist.

Where has my speed gone

Thursday, 20 June 2013

I was quite anxious about today's running because I had scheduled my first track training session for a couple of years.  I believe the biggest obstacle to running a sub-3 in October will be my speed, not my stamina, assuming I get there uninjured.  As I have aged, my stride length has shortened and I have lost flexibility and anaerobic capacity.  My plan to overcome this deficiency is to run more shorter races and include a track session a week.  Assuming I can do both of these, my ability to sustain the necessary speed will improve.  The reason for my anxiety today was that, in the last ten years, whenever I have decided to include a track session in my weekly program, I have only lasted a couple of weeks before succumbing to injury.  I'm hoping that by running repetitions of no less than 800 metres, I won't reach the speeds that risk injury, but it will be a fine line.



I used to be faster on the track.  On my way to a PB 14:26
for 5000m at Olympic Park, Melbourne, in March 1977

The day started with supervision of the regular Thursday morning track session at The Haven in Terrigal, and I followed that with an easy 6km run during which I felt quite comfortable, though my right knee and Achilles were a bit painful.

Around 4:30pm, I started my second training session for the day with a 3km warm-up around Adcock Park in Gosford, followed by a few drills on the mediocre grass track.  After marking out my 800m start in lane 3 on the damp track, I began my session of five 800m repeats with a three minute recovery between each.  Ideally, I want to build up to ten repeats averaging between 2:50 and 3:00.  I knew I would find today hard, and I was right.  The kebab I had for lunch at the mall came back to haunt me, just to make matters worse.  The first 800 was in 3:13 and I felt awkward all the way.  My right calf and hamstring felt tight and I could hear my bad knee clicking with every step.  The remaining 800's were all between 3:05 and 3:10.  I tried not to think about how this was slower than 6 minute mile pace (3:45 mins/km), the speed at which I used to run my regular Wednesday night 20 miler (32km) in my heyday.

I finished the session with another easy 3km and decided that the rough damp grass track was not a good surface for an old guy like me to train on.  The soft surface provided little support, leading to more strain on calf muscles and knees.  For next week's session, I will try to find a flat section of quiet road and use Google Maps to identify an exact 800m.  I think I will feel more comfortable on the road.

Recovery with caution

Thursday, 13 June 2013

I didn’t feel too loose when I got up, but by 7am when the track session I supervise ended, I felt more positive about my scheduled 15km run on a clear sunny morning.



Terrigal Haven (foreground)

As usual, my run started up two quite steep hills and I took it slowly, still a little fearful that one of my tight calf muscles might tear.  However, by the time I reached the ridge along the Scenic Highway overlooking Terrigal and the ocean, I was well-warmed up and settled into a comfortable pace.  My course took in three more significant hills and, on each, I still felt some post-marathon fatigue lurking below the surface but otherwise felt strong and free-moving.

For the last flattish section into and through Terrigal I even stretched out a little and finished what turned out to be a 16km run at an average pace of 5 mins/km, which was quite good at this point.  A morning bonus was seeing a whale spouting offshore during my post-run walk around Terrigal Haven.

Tomorrow will just be an easy pre-golf 5km, but I’m conscious that for Saturday’s run at Trotters, which incorporates some tough hills, I might be wise not to get carried away and competitive, at least early on.

Recovery is important

Thursday, 6 June 2013

I wasn’t sure how I was going to be moving this morning after yesterday’s long run.  However, walking around while the Thursday morning track group went through their paces, loosened me up and I didn’t feel too bad.  It was a recovery day, so I had no reason to force the pace or run to a time.



I used to love my warm-down walks to the end of our
cul-de-sac and back in Darien, Connecticut

As usual, my run from Terrigal Haven, where the track session is held, started with a couple of very tough hills and I wasn’t running much faster than walking pace.  But, by the time I reached the ridge overlooking Terrigal, I was feeling a bit better and confident that I could manage the planned 11km without problems.  There was another big hill after 5km, but I just plodded up it and then enjoyed the flatter section at the top.

It was a slow 11km, but I felt as good as I could hope for after the long run yesterday and am looking forward to an even shorter run tomorrow to help me freshen up.

I often think that the best part of any training run is the slow warm-down walk I always try to take straight afterwards, wherever I am.  I can vividly remember most of the warm-down walks I have done over the years from regular running locations.  Apart from the relief at finishing a possibly hard run, your senses are alive after the exercise, you have a sense of well-being, and you can quietly contemplate what the day ahead holds.

At The Haven, it’s possible to walk round the low headland with spectacular views out to sea and along the coast and I always feel very lucky to, firstly, have such a lovely part of the world in which to run, and secondly, not to be one of the commuters I could see rushing off to work in their cars.

Loosening up

Thursday, 30 May 2013

My right Achilles was sore from the moment I got up.  I hobbled around trying not to stress it while I got ready for the regular 6:00am Thursday track training session that I supervise at Terrigal Haven.  I use the word “supervise” somewhat loosely, because the sessions, which are attended by about ten of my Terrigal Trotters’ friends, would happen whether I was there or not.  I do map out a program tailored towards peaking for several major marathons, and I think everybody is happy to have someone else tell them what to do.  The sessions last about an hour and I don’t do much more than spell out what the session entails and offer encouragement and sometimes advice on injuries or to novices.  I enjoy the camaraderie and try to keep walking around to loosen up for my own run, which will follow.



Terrigal Haven, where the Thursday morning track
sessions occur.

The runners prefer to do the sessions on the grass rugby oval, even though it is very dark to start in winter, and some wear headlamps.  This morning, in addition to the marker cones I traditionally use to define the lap, I brought along some cheap LED lights ($1 per unit) I had purchased on eBay and put them out with the cones.  It worked well, I think.

The walking around while the runners ran their laps loosened my Achilles and when the session was over, I was ready to run.  After the runners left, I stripped off at my car and set off to run a 22.5km circuit as my day’s training.  My quads felt very tight and heavy right from the start and I resigned myself to a laborious two hours of running.  I tried not to push at all and, early on, worried about a few niggles, especially in my left hip that had been the site of some problems in the last two years.  My chronic right knee injury hurt, but I expected that and knew it would cope.  Thankfully, the shooting pain I briefly experienced climbing the stairs soon after rising this morning did not return.  So many things that can go wrong with a runner’s body, that I often wonder how (and why) we keep going.

I plodded along, negotiating the substantial hills en route, and just tried to ignore the muscle fatigue and stiffness.  It’s all about risk management, really.  It did feel risky setting out on a two-hour run when my muscles were so fatigued.  However, it is also true that just five days ago I had hiked nearly 50km in a day carrying a 20kg pack at the end of many days’ of hiking.  It seems reasonable, that so long as I run slowly, I should be able to manage 22km.

I finished in 2:06, which though slow, was faster than I had expected or felt like I was running.  I savoured my warm-down 15 minute walk around the perimeter of The Haven in the warming sunshine.  Injuries often show up one or two days later, so I can’t be sure whether my decision to run was wise.  For the moment, I’m still on track.