Glimmers

Terrigal Trotters preparing to leave Yarramalong for
Somersby along the Great North Walk trail

After a late night ensuring all of the Terrigal Trotters finished the 28km Yarramalong to Somersby trail run safely, I didn't get to bed until about 12:30am, still feeling a bit under the weather but happy that the runners, especially those new to night running, seemed to have enjoyed the experience.  It's always nice to organise an event that attracts interest and goes off well, but it's even more rewarding to see people willing to explore outside of their comfort zone and finish knowing they have accomplished something that would intimidate others.

McMasters Fire Trail

I slept in and woke feeling better than yesterday, but left going for a run until late morning on a beautiful warm and sunny spring day.  Having missed the trails last night I decided to run one of my favourite local 10km runs that incorporates McMasters Fire-Trail with some nice bush, though also some challenging hills.

This morning's run finished around Cockrone Lagoon

The further I ran, the better I felt and the more confident I was that whatever ailed me yesterday has passed.  The climbs were tough, but I didn't push it, and the trail sections were magic.  On the flat and downhill sections, I actually felt I was moving freely for a change, despite still nursing my right knee and taking care not to over-stretch the right Achilles tendon.  Of course my weekly mileage is down, so I should be feeling fresher, but the contrast to how I felt yesterday was stark.  Maybe there is a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel I have been running through for the past couple of months.  It's certainly nice to have a run that is almost 100% enjoyable for a change, but I'm not getting carried away just yet.

Nevertheless, it gives me hope that perseverance will yield results and that I should keep trying to run as often as possible, even when it is a grind.  I'm a believer in "use it or lose it" and once you start lowering your expectations, the outcome becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.  Additionally, it's sometimes easy to forget that although the hour of exercise each day might be hard work, painful, and not particularly enjoyable, the consequent well-being and quality of life bestowed on the other 23 hours of the day are a more-than-adequate reward.

Some kind of bug

Terrigal Trotters tackle the Hastings Road
hill during this morning's run
(courtesy: Adam Couchman)

Not much forward progress today, nor much to write about.  I had a sleepless night and woke with a headache, nausea and tired legs.  Hoping that the usual large mug of black coffee would give me a boost, I headed down to Terrigal Trotters for the Fragrant Garden-Erina Valley 11km run, one of my favourites on a beautiful Spring morning.  A slow 1.5km warm-up jog did not improve my sense of well-being, so I started the run cautiously hoping I would feel better later on, but I never did.

My legs were heavy all the way up the Terrigal Drive hill and I was well back in the field thinking I might end up walking at any moment.  I did walk up some of the later steeper hills and was, unusually, one of the last runners back to Terrigal, although I'm starting to wonder whether I should get used to it.  No doubt I have some kind of bug, and in a few days will feel better, but it's hard not to get depressed.

To top it off, I was planning to run, slowly, our first Trotters night trail run tonight - 28km from Yarramalong to Somersby - but that now seems very unwise.  I will still go, as the organiser, but it will be hard watching the 25 runners head off for a night of adventure.  Instead, I will drive to a few access points just to make sure everything's OK.

Acclimatisation

Jack Foster winning the
1975 Honolulu Marathon

It was unseasonably warm overnight, with the temperature staying above 20°C.  Blustery northerly winds had raised the temperature to near 30°C by the time I headed out for an easy 10km at mid-morning.  Although the heat made the run harder work, I welcomed it.  I have a theory that you need to run in hot weather for about a week before your body adapts to make the running easier.  So the early days of heat in any summer will initially be hard work.  It's very hard to go from cold weather to warm weather and run well straight away.  A period of acclimatisation is needed.  This morning's run should have started that process for the coming summer.

The heat reminded me of a story I had been told about Jack Foster, a great New Zealand marathon runner, famous for the world record times he ran in his 40s (2:11:18) and 50s (2:20:28).  He only started running at the age of 32.  In early 1978, Jack was keen to get a place on the New Zealand team for the Commonwealth Games to be held in Edmonton, Canada, in August of that year.  For whatever reason, maybe injury, Jack hadn't run a qualifying time and was desperately looking for a certified marathon somewhere in Australasia to record a good time.  The only marathon he could find was in April in Whyalla, a remote steel town in South Australia, so he wrote to them and they invited him to run as their guest.  It was a new marathon and they were keen to get the publicity.  I heard this story the next year, when I was fortunate enough to be invited by the organisers to be their guest runner.

At least I managed to get on the same poster
as Jack Foster

Anyway, Jack needed to run a time of something like 2:16 to qualify and was optimistic that the flat Whyalla course would give him every chance.  Unfortunately for Jack, Whyalla can get hot, even in autumn, and during the race the temperature rose to 34°C.  The organisers had a huge barrel of water at about the 20 mile mark which they were intending to use as a source of water to douse passing runners.  By 20 miles, Jack's hopes of a qualifying time had evaporated in the heat, and the organisers told me that Jack actually jumped in the barrel of water to cool off before continuing to the finish in 2:26:52.  A year later, without the heat, I won in 2:27:43, so I have an appreciation for Jack's talents.  Sadly he was killed in a collision with a car while out training on his bike at the age of 72.

My right Achilles tendon was still quite sore when I set out for today's run, and I did wonder whether I was wise running at all.  But this injury has been with me for some years, and comes and goes in intensity, so I'm hoping careful management will help it settle down.  Part of that careful management is not forcing it, so I wasn't able to stretch out.  My running style felt awkward, which it was, and I'm sure I looked like an old man going out for a jog, which I was.  I hoped it might loosen up on the one kilometre climb out of Copa, but if it did, it was only a little.  I felt less fatigued than expected, given the 25km trail race on Sunday, but it got harder in the last kilometres as the hills and heat took their toll.

My time for my regular 10km loop was slow, 58 minutes, but that was of no consequence today.  The weather conditions were bad for anybody with breathing issues and the run was accompanied by lots of coughing and spluttering.  The mailman brought the new Sorbothane heel raises I had ordered today, so I'm hoping that will give my Achilles tendon some relief, and a visit to the doctor later resulted in a reversion to the former asthma medication which my body seemed to handle better.  I may risk a longer run tomorrow.

Training through races

Terrigal Trotters getting ready to head for the Avoca Steps

Tomorrow is the Woodford to Glenbrook 25km trail race in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, and I'm travelling down with a busload of Terrigal Trotter clubmates.  The event was originally scheduled for late June, but was postponed because heavy rain had led to the National Park, through which the event runs, being closed.  I'm not in shape to take the race seriously, but not having run it before, I decided to keep my place in the bus and in the event.

Rounding Avoca Lagoon

That meant a decision had to be made about whether I should do all of this morning's 13.5km Avoca Steps run with Trotters, or have an easy day and rest up for tomorrow.  In days gone by, when I was training for a big event some months in the future, I rarely let myself ease up for an interim race unless it happened to coincide with a scheduled easier week's training.  Over time, experience showed me that whether I eased up or not, didn't seem to affect the quality of performances.  If you eased up, you felt physically and mentally fresher, but by the middle of the race it seldom made much difference.  I'm not saying you should train hard the day before.  In any training schedule, even when there is a heavy load, there should be easier/recovery days between the quality days.  I would just schedule that easier day before the day of the race.

Near the top of the Avoca Steps

After mulling over my options, I decided that shortening today's run so I felt better for tomorrow's run was not consistent with my need to maintain some training intensity.  Instead, I decided to run the full distance, but take it easy and avoid getting competitive.  To deal with the bronchial trouble, I took two puffs of Ventolin about half an hour before the run.  Maybe this was the reason that climbing the first steep hill out of Terrigal, my heart felt like it was racing and I struggled to get any rhythm.  I plodded up the hill, hoping things would get better, but they never did.  Although my heart rate settled down, my legs felt leaden, perhaps the result of standing around at an art exhibition for three hours last night, or maybe connected to the earlier Ventolin-induced exertions.

The Avoca Steps were very hard work, as was the last hill up Tramway, and I finished the run near the back of the field, very tired and somewhat demoralised.  My painful right Achilles had restricted my stride, and my right arch was still a little sore, so they may also have been factors.  I just have to remember that, although not stellar by any means, I ran better on Wednesday and last Saturday, so this morning's run should not be seen as representative of my current fitness.

I'll give the Ventolin a miss for tomorrow's run, start slowly, and hope I can redeem myself a bit.

Problem management

The path followed around the edge of Cockrone Lagoon at
McMasters Beach during this morning's run.

My right Achilles was still stiff and painful this morning as I headed out for an easy and flat 7km across the Cockrone Lagoon sandbar and through McMasters Beach.  I'm still wheezing and coughing a lot, but there is a very high pollen count on these warm spring days, and allergies may be exacerbating the problem.  Despite these two significant problems, I did feel like I was moving a bit better this morning, but I need to get these issues to a manageable level.

In the past, prior to surgery, I have managed chronic Achilles problems through the use of heel raises.  I recently purchased some at a sports store, but they are softish and more designed to cushion the heel strike.  I wonder if they make the problem worse, because there seems to be greater friction between the heel and the shoe as the pad compresses.  Thirty years ago, I used more rigid heel raises and often wore them for years on end.  The theory behind these heel raises is that the heel is higher relative to the front of the foot and therefore, with each step, the angle defined between the lower leg and foot is less acute.  We are talking millimetres, but it does make a difference.  I used to make my own heel raises by carving up the heels of old thongs (flip flops) and velcroing them to the inside base of my shoes.  Sadly, the thongs of these days seem to be made of softer and thicker material, and making my own heel raises hasn't been practicable.  An alternative I once used were Sorbothane heel pads and I've found they are still available on the web, so have ordered some.  If they don't work, I think I'll be visiting Dr Jon and getting an MRI.  I suspect there is a heel spur that needs to be removed, and that will put me out of running for months.

Cockrone Lagoon from the Copa side

The breathing difficulties I have been dealing with recently may be a consequence from ceasing use of the asthma medication I have been on for the last few years.  I stopped taking Seretide because it was giving me headaches, and before that, the doctor recommended I stop taking Symbicort which has had some adverse findings concerning long-term use.  Ventolin seems to help a bit, but I'm only taking it on days when I race.  I'm not sure that it is wise to be taking it before every run although a web search hasn't revealed evidence of any long-term use side-effects.  Two other major considerations for me are that I don't like the idea of taking anything long-term, and I don't want to take anything that is prohibited by the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) or the Australian Sports Anti-Doping Authority (ASADA).  The latter has a "Check your Substances" facility that allows you to make sure you are not contravening the rules and the FAQ on the Australian Sports Drug Medical Advisory Committee (ASDMAC) also provides good information.  Both of these websites show the medications I have been using comply with the rules, but that leaves the problem of avoiding long-term use.  I've made an appointment with my doctor next week to discuss the best option.

Continuing frustration

This nasty little hill in each Six at Six lap is tougher
than it looks

I headed into Gosford in the late afternoon for an easy 10km warm-up before the weekly Six at Six race.  Maybe it's the very early and warm Spring we're having, but for whatever reason, my sinuses were blocked all day and the warm-up 10km was marked by much coughing and expectorating, despite taking a couple of puffs from my Ventolin inhaler prior to running.  I do have allergies and they seem to be compounding my current breathing difficulties when running.

The long back straight along the Gosford waterfront
in each Six at Six lap

Anyway, I felt better than before last week's Six at Six, but was careful not to go off too fast when the 6km race started.  My pace was quite consistent, around 5:15 for each 1.2km lap, but I was really gasping for air in the last two laps and coughing lots.  As usual, the small concave hill in each lap really destroyed my rhythm, and if running with oxygen debt helps, then tonight was good training.  My time was about 30 seconds slower than two weeks ago, so was a little disappointing.  It just seems hard to believe that I can get fit enough to run minutes faster, yet that's what I must do.

It's also frustrating that I cannot keep up with friends over 6km, who I would normally be competitive with over 10km.  Of course, they may be running well, but most of my recent comebacks saw me more competitive more quickly.  On the positive side, my right Achilles and arch injuries weren't too bad tonight, although tomorrow morning's run will be the true test.

Racing injured

Two Peoples Bay, near where I stayed when I ran the
Albany Marathon in 1981

My right Achilles tendon and arch were both quite sore this morning, but that was to be expected after a long run, so I wasn't too worried.  In late morning I headed out in the warmth and sunshine for a 5km walk round Copa, taking care not to force the stiff and sore Achilles.  I felt quite flat after the rigours of yesterday's run and a late night (Terrigal Trotters Annual General Meeting).  My chest was still congested and I was glad a run wasn't scheduled for today.

I still intend to run the regular Six at Six tomorrow night and the 25km Woodford to Glenbrook trail race on Sunday, but it's hard to believe I'm going to run well in either.  I'm in the "stick to the plan and it will all work out" mode, which has generally served me well in the past, but not always.

Near the half-way point of the Albany Marathon course

Running injured is never much fun.  Non-runners often do not appreciate how frequently injuries afflict runners or how hard it can be to produce your best.  Back in 1981, I received an invitation to run in the Albany Marathon in Western Australia, with all expenses paid.  It was shortly after running second in the 1981 Big M Melbourne Marathon in 2:19:29, and I'm sure the organisers thought I would back up a month later with another sub-2:20, and a new course record in Albany.  Unknown to them, I had been carrying a serious Achilles tendon injury for some time and was already booked in for surgery four days after their race.  However, with the help of anti-inflammatories, I was still running, and was reluctant to pass up the chance of a free trip to the West.  I told them I couldn't guarantee anything faster than about 2:25 in a small race on an unknown course, and neglected to mention the upcoming surgery.

They organized the tickets and I travelled to Albany two days before the race, staying in a lovely guest house on a bay to the east of town.  My Achilles was very sore and I hadn't run further than 16km in three weeks.  Then, to my consternation, I developed a blister on a short training run, and through changing my gait, ended up with a painful locked muscle on the outside of my left shin.  I was having trouble walking, let alone running, but didn't feel I could, or should, say anything about my problems to the organisers.  I just hoped that I could win the event with a minimum of fuss, even if my time was slower than predicted.

My Race Certificate for the Albany Marathon

The day of the race was cool, overcast and blustery, and I was taken aback to find Dave Eltringham, a well-performed marathoner I knew from Melbourne, in the line-up.  He was a native of nearby Esperance and was home on vacation and to run the marathon.  I was starting to feel a lot of pressure.  When the gun fired, I quickly went to the lead at a solid clip, hoping any contenders (i.e., Dave) would give up early.  I was soon on my own, and after about 10km, relaxed the pace a little.  My Achilles hurt, my locked muscle was painful, I was having trouble running smoothly, and I just wanted it to all be over.

I reached the half-way point in exactly 1:12:30, and glanced over my shoulder, hoping nobody would be in sight.  Dave was a good runner, but with a best of just under 2:30, I hoped he would not be in contention at that pace in a minor marathon.  Alarmingly, he was less than 100 metres behind, obviously having a great run, and with me squarely in his sights.  I was not going to be able to coast the last half and tried to lift my tempo a little.  It was very hard work, made harder by some violent cold rain squalls and fierce winds in the last 10km.  The finish finally came into sight and I collapsed across the line in exactly 2:25:05, drenched, absolutely exhausted and in a lot of pain from my injuries.  Dave followed a minute or so later in a new Personal Best time.

The organizer commented that my time matched my pre-trip prediction almost exactly and that my two halves were perfectly even.  I could tell he thought it was just a "milk run" for me, where I had taken it as easily as I could whilst meeting my commitment.  In reality, it was one of the hardest races I ever ran, and one of those of which I am most proud.

.....some days are stone

After 8km, a few hills were a little harder than I had anticipated

Although I knew it would be hard work, I planned to try and run 36.5km this morning on the Round the Bay course here on the Central Coast.  I'm unhappy with my fitness and long runs have always been a relatively quick route back to form for me.  I knew I wasn't fit enough to be worrying at all about the time I would run.  Instead, I just wanted to complete the first two-thirds of the roughly triangular course without getting too tired, and then make my way to the finish as best I could.  Perhaps unwisely, after another late night, I chose not to get up early and set out around 8:45am on another warm sunny day along roads busy with morning peak hour traffic.

The early kilometres passed comfortably enough, with neither my right Achilles tendon nor my right arch injuries causing me excessive pain.  After 8km, a few hills were a little harder than I had anticipated, confirming that this was going to be a hard run.  By 15km, under a relentless sun, I couldn't stop thinking about how good it was going to be to stop, and kept telling myself to run efficiently.

By 15km, under a relentless sun, I couldn't stop thinking
about how good it was going to be to stop

By 24km I was really struggling to maintain a reasonable pace and the minor climb into East Gosford around 27km pretty much finished off any pretence of good running form.  I was just shambling along, uncertain of how I would manage another 10km.  Ultimately, I decided to run to the intersection at 29.5km and then walk the remaining 7km back to my car.  I regretted not carrying a $20 note with me for emergency use, but was mollified by the thought that walking the last 7km might be an appropriate of punishment for not running the whole way.  I have walked when running this course before, but only once that I can remember, and on that occasion I was unfit, over-weight and it was warm and humid.  Although it was warm, I would have expected to do better today.  Only a week ago I had managed the 32km Orchard Run in reasonable form, so maybe I am still labouring with some minor ailment.

As I walked along the sun-soaked footpath I was very tempted to lie down and close my eyes for just a couple of minutes in the shade of a tree in one of the small grassy parks I passed, or maybe on the bench in one of the bus shelters.  This was a tell-tale sign of exhaustion, just as the longing for a Mars Bar is a sign that I have exhausted my glycogen stores and am burning fats.

With about 4.5km to go, I passed a car parked by the footpath and heard my name called.  It was a fellow Terrigal Trotter, Alison, who had driven passed me and returned, wondering whether I needed help.  I gratefully accepted her offer of a lift to where my car was parked, and my ordeal was over.

Although I had managed to run about 30km, it was demoralising not to finish the run as planned.  At the time I injured my arch, just over two months ago, I had run the same course reasonably easily in a satisfactory time.  It's hard to accept that, despite having resumed training more than a month ago, I'm still not back to where I was.  I do hope that it's just the last vestiges of an ailment slowing me down and that normal service will shortly be resumed.  However, as Alison said, at least we are running.  She is running after missing more than a year with injury.

Hunting joggers

Melbourne's Tan Track

The reasonably fast downhill trail sections in yesterday's Terrigal Trotters run, aggravated my right arch injury a little, and a stint of dancing at last night's Trotters 30th Anniversary celebration didn't help either. So, I set off for a slow 8km this morning with some trepidation.  My right Achilles tendon had also suffered yesterday and remained sore.

However, despite the need to favour my right leg for the first few kilometres until the injuries warmed up, I did feel a bit fresher and stronger than has been the case for the past few days.  The 8km Copa Circle route that I use has plenty of hills and I was pleased to find that, despite quite warm conditions, I coped quite easily.  It gives me a little confidence that I'm over the chest bug that has troubled me the last week, and also to try a longer run tomorrow.

About a third of the way around today's run, I spied a tall lean jogger a hundred metres ahead, running down the road with a small dog on a lead.  It was a lovely sunny and warm morning and I took him for one of the weekend visitors to Copa out for a Sunday morning run.  He wasn't going fast, and despite my own modest pace, I gradually hauled him in.  I confess that I'm never very happy being caught from behind when out for a run, particularly when it comes as a surprise, so when I'm doing the passing, I always try to make eye contact and say hello.

This morning, however, the jogger showed no inclination to make eye contact  or acknowledge me and immediately increased his pace, somewhat to the distress of the small dog.  I consciously avoided throwing down the gauntlet by increasing my pace, because I would have felt ridiculous, so we ran in tandem, each on his own side of the road, for what seems like a long time, but was probably only 500m or so.  We parted company when the road began to climb a short sharp hill and he gave up, as I suspected he would, after a 100 metres of straining to keep level.

We used to kid a fellow Kew Camberwell club-mate in Melbourne about one of his favourite lunchtime activities, "hunting" joggers.  Ray was a very good runner, with a best time of around 30 minutes for 10km, and worked as a public servant in the Melbourne central business district.  Like many city workers, Ray used to go for a lunchtime run around the Tan track, where he would delight in catching slower lunchtime runners from behind.  The runners, who were always men, and presumably suffering from excess testosterone, often sought to keep pace with Ray as he eased past.  Once Ray had the jogger on the hook, he just kept slowly increasing the pace until, with a gasp, they dropped off.  Very sadistic.

Anniversary

Start of the 1978 Bay to Breakers
(Central Coast Express, 31 August 1978)

Terrigal Trotters is celebrating it's 30th Anniversary today and began with a Relay Race, boys vs girls, from Gosford to Terrigal tracing the old Bay to Breakers Fun Run course.  I wasn't part of the team, which consisted of eleven runners, each running a one kilometre leg, but I was helping with the organisation and this required being in Terrigal before 4:30am this morning.

The teams were handicapped to ensure a close finish and were hoping to beat the times posted in the 20th Anniversary Relay and the respective men's and women's records for the old race.  The race started around 5:20am in Gosford and the finishers were cheered into the car park at Terrigal Surf Club around 6:00am by the 100 or so runners assembled for the regular 6:00am Trotters Saturday morning run.  The men just beat the women and the 20th Anniversary time, but neither side beat the race records.

Rob De Castella on his way to victory
(Central Coast Express, 31 August 1978)

I actually ran in the old Bay to Breakers 35 years ago, so before Terrigal Trotters actually formed.  I can't remember why I journeyed from Melbourne up to Gosford to run, but it wasn't with any expectations of winning prizes.  Although I was a competent Fun Runner, I was rarely on the podium, and particularly not in races where the prizes included overseas air travel as was the case for this race in 1978.

As it turned out, I was a long way behind Rob De Castella who won in 32:24 for the 11km distance.  Rob went on to a stellar marathon career, including a World Championship win in 1983.  I finished in 18th place in 36:00, which would have seemed disappointing at the time, but seems very fast to me now.

1978 Bay to Breakers results
(Central Coast Express, 31 August 1978)

After this morning's Relay, we all set off for the 15km run to the top of Kincumba Mountain and return.  I had a couple of puffs of Ventolin before starting in the hope that it would facilitate my breathing after a couple of tough days with a tight chest.  It did seem to help but my legs remained heavy and I still felt off-colour, possibly not helped by the early start to the day.  Anyway, I persevered and tried to maintain a reasonable pace for the whole run, despite a very sore right Achilles, and finished happy that I had made the distance.

It will be a late night tonight, with further Trotters Anniversary celebrations, so I will have an easy day tomorrow and hope that I'm up for a long run on Monday morning.  I really don't want the minor health problems of the past week to derail my plan for returning to fitness, and that means getting in a long run in the next two days.

Chicago

Lincoln Park, Chicago

I only had a short jog scheduled for today, anyway, but I still found it hard, with the same issues as yesterday - breathlessness, excessive sweating and lead-leggedness.  I don't feel too bad when I'm not running, just a little fatigued, so I'm hoping I'll be healthy again shortly.  There is a tough 15km run scheduled for Terrigal Trotters tomorrow, so that will be a test.  As soon as I feel I'm healthy and running well again, I'll put together a training plan for the Hobart Marathon in January, my next best chance of running a sub-3 hour marathon, having given up on running well in the Melbourne Marathon, in just six weeks time.

Not having much to write about today, I thought I would revisit another of the regular morning running courses from my past.  Between 1987 and 1990, I held joint responsibility with a colleague for setting up the North American operation of my company in Chicago.  For a while, my colleague, who was based in Stockholm (I was based near London), and I alternated our time in Chicago and mostly stayed in a corporate apartment we leased.

Prior to this assignment, I had only visited Chicago once, briefly, and didn’t hold it in very high regard.  However, as I spent more time there I grew to love it and now rate it as one of my favourite cities.  I liked the cleanliness and professional bustle of the city, the friendliness of the people, and its classical stone buildings offset by the towering skyscrapers.  Tucked away everywhere were atmospheric little bars and bistros.  From our apartment on the southern edges of the central business district, I also grew to love my regular Chicago early morning run.

Along the Lake Michigan waterfront
to Chicago

The route headed north through the early morning quiet of the business district, known as The Loop (where I would be working later in the day), and joined LaSalle Street which took me across the very unimpressive Chicago River, more like a large drain, and out of the city.  After the river, North LaSalle Street traversed a couple of kilometres of quiet inner suburbs of picturesque old houses and apartment blocks to the famed Lincoln Park.  From there, my route followed a network of gravel paths and horse rides before skirting the north side of little Diversey Harbor to reach the vast Lake Michigan and turn south for the return to the city.

For five kilometres the route followed perfectly flat concrete paths along the Lake and I can remember flying along here, passing joggers at speed on my good days.  At the southern end, the path was squeezed between the busy multi-lane Lakeshore Drive and the Lake and one winter I vividly recall being hit hard in the chest by the stream of snow blasted from the side of a snow plough travelling the opposite direction along the Drive.  I could see it coming but there was nowhere to go.

The Chicago waterfront on a windy day

The snow plough experience paled, however, compared to another winter experience I had in the same area.  There was no path, but it was possible to run along a sort of wide sloping concrete shelf that bordered the lake.  At the edge of the shelf was a vertical drop of about half a metre into the deep lake.  If it had been windy, waves broke over the concrete shelf, and if cold, the breaking waves would freeze on the concrete.  One morning I was running along there in the winter pre-dawn darkness, trying to dodge the iciest sections, when I slipped and fell.  It was bad enough landing on the rock hard ice, but soon I became aware of a worse fate.  I was sliding, on my back,  down the ice-covered concrete slope towards the drop-off into the semi-frozen lake.  I spread my arms, trying to reduce my weight and catch one of the icy ridges caused by the waves.  After about five metres, with about ten to go, I managed to stop myself and then very gingerly got onto my hands and knees and crawled up the slope and off the ice.  It was dark, there was nobody around, and I have often wondered how long it would have taken for them to find my body if I had gone into the lake.  There was no way I could have climbed out or survived long enough to swim to safety.  I continued to use the same route in winter, but ran very carefully, and as near the top of the concrete ledge as I could go, walking if necessary.

The last part of the run crossed the open parks in front of the Art Institute of Chicago and back to the city and the apartment.

As far as “garbage” runs go, this was quite a long course (16.5km), but it was flat and fast and usually took around an hour.  I experienced it in the rank humidity of a Chicago summer and the way-below-freezing temperatures of a Chicago winter, and have very fond memories of both.

Can't take a trick

Better days......leading in the 1983
Stawell Marathon (1st, 2:29)

Another bad day at the office.  After last evening's abortive Six at Six race, I slept badly, waking up sweating several times, and rose early this morning feeling tired and unmotivated.

I journeyed to Terrigal Haven for the regular 6:00am track session and afterwards set out for my own planned run of 16km.  It didn't go well.  The two steep hills in the first kilometre are always a hard way to start a run, but usually, once I reach the ridge above Terrigal I start to feel warmed up and begin to move better.  That didn't happen this morning, when every step seemed a struggle and every breath an effort.  After a couple of kilometres, I began to question the wisdom of completing 16km, especially on the planned hilly course, and after 3km I made the decision to return to The Haven via the shortest route.

The last 3km, run at a very slow pace, were tough.  I was short of breath, heavy-legged and sweating profusely, especially round the head, and very glad I had chosen the short route back.  It took me about 37 minutes to run the 6km and I'm now convinced I have some kind of bug.  My chest feels weak and I lack energy.  Hopefully, it's just a short-term thing.  I can't really be bothered going to see the doctor.  My right Achilles tendon was also quite sore for the whole run, and I just don't feel like I can take a trick at the moment.  I would like to have just one day where I feel like I am running well and it seems like months (and is months) since that happened.

From experience, I know that I must keep running through this period, perhaps taking it a bit easier until I feel healthier, but generally sticking to my training regime, and eventually things will stabilise and running will become more enjoyable.  I also need to remind myself how unhappy I was when I couldn't run at all, and count my blessings.  I'm a believer in the body sorting itself out if you give it time and am hopeful that, in another month, the current period will be just a bad memory.

Pulling out

Extract from the Boston Globe on 20 April 1982 after
Salazar had won the Boston Marathon by 2 seconds from
Dick Beardsley in 2:08:51 (I was 49th in 2:22:39)

Tonight's Six at Six run didn't go so well.  Maybe it was the effects of my cold, or maybe it was that I ate lunch too late, but for whatever reason I was struggling to get the air I needed after just one lap (1.2km) of the 6km race, and briefly stopped before backing off and running the remaining four laps at a comfortable pace.

I had followed my plan of getting there an hour early and running 10km as a warm-up, but even in that warm-up, I didn't feel I was travelling well.  Plenty of coughing, hawking and spluttering to go with indigestion, so maybe I would have been wiser not starting.  However, as discussed in yesterday's post, I'm reluctant to back off from my planned training unless for a good reason.

Salazar in flight

As I drove home from the race, I examined my motives for pulling out.  Although I don't often pull out of races, I have pulled out of a number over the years, particularly in my early running career.  Whenever I do, it always awakens some deep-seated self-doubt about my toughness in the face of adversity.  I can always rationalise a decision to pull out at the time, but almost always regret it later.  There are some runners, such as one of my marathon heroes, Alberto Salazar, who have run themselves to the point of insensibility or collapse in races.  I have never run myself that hard, and it makes me wonder whether I have fully explored my physical potential as an athlete.

For today, however, I know I do have a cold, and that it is affecting how I feel when running.  I will trust that when it abates, I will feel and run better.  On the plus side, I barely felt my injured right arch tonight.

Running with a cold

The last part of the Cape Three Points Road climb
out of Avoca

I'm trying to gradually increase my training intensity, while taking care not to overtrain as I come back from the right arch injury.  This makes me reluctant to step back when something such as a minor cold comes along.  Since Sunday, my nose has been running, my sinuses are blocked and I'm coughing a lot.  Like most runners, I believe that running with a head cold is unpleasant but not such a big deal.  However, I also believe that it can risk bronchitis, or worse, if the congestion goes to your chest or you get too run down.  The rational thing would be to back off for a few days and avoid hard running and breathing, but that also means less mileage and a slower comeback when the cold may just pass by anyway.

I have never been very good at backing off for illness (or injury).  For many years, my personal rule was that, if I was too ill to run, then I was too ill to work, and because I always wanted to run, I was rarely sick enough to miss work (in fact, I can't ever recall missing a day through illness, though there were probably a few early in my career).  Of course, I was lucky to never suffer a serious illness, though I did run a few times with a high temperature and flu symptoms, and occasionally against medical advice.  It's hard to draw the line.  There's no point in ending up in hospital or worse, but none of us feel 100% every day and I don't want to miss training unnecessarily.

Copa beach

In recent years, I have modified my illness rule to be no running with a temperature.  I have heard a few horror stories of runners collapsing when training or racing with temperatures, and have no desire to join them.

With just a cold to worry about, I set off for this morning's 14.5km road run knowing that it might not be pleasant.  I ran a regular course, but in the opposite direction to usual, making it easier for the early kilometres and back-loading the toughest hill - Avoca's Cape Three Points Road.  It was yet another beautiful warm sunny morning as I crossed the lagoon sand bar to McMasters Beach and cruised along the shaded Scenic Highway.  After a few kilometres, I spied another runner up ahead and thought I might catch them, but wasn't running fast enough and suddenly they had disappeared.  The first hill elevated my cold symptoms, and I was soon coughing, hawking and wheezing as I struggled up the climb.  My head felt stuffed up and I was sweating profusely around the eyes, a tell-tale sign of sinus problems for me.

Despite all that, I was moving better than a week ago, and it really was a beautiful morning for a run.  Even the first part of the Cape Three Points Road hill wasn't too bad, but the hill has a concave shape, meaning it gets steeper as you get higher, and I really struggled up the last part, spluttering all the way.  The reward, of course, was the run down the other side into Copa with it's magnificent coastal views, and the icing on the cake was a brief stop on the beachfront to watch a whale wallowing just beyond the surf break a hundred metres from shore.  I finished in 1:17, which was an acceptable time, two days after a hard long run, and the good news was that  my right arch injury was barely noticeable (though my right calf muscle had a tender spot).

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!

Three days lost

Training for a marathon has seemed a distant fantasy for the past three days.



Crossing the line in the 1982 Boston Marathon
(49th in 2:22:39)

I woke early on Sunday morning with a severe headache followed by bouts of vomiting and dry retching and twelve hours later, at Sharon's insistence, was in the local hospital's Emergency Department on a drip having various tests and a brain scan.  The tests failed to show anything untoward and they eventually sent me home with instructions to return if there was no improvement.  I spent the next 36 hours in bed sleeping and dozing.  My headache gradually abated as my ability to keep down fluids and food gradually returned.  There was no thought of any exercise.

Today, although still feeling a bit spaced out, I have returned to the world of the living and am eating and drinking normally.  I'm hoping my ailment was just some kind of 48-hour bug I picked up, though the hospital tests didn't identify any viruses.  I decided not to exercise today either, and will now have missed three complete days.  The downtime seems to have been the catalyst for a more realistic assessment of my marathon training plan.  There was still some specific pain in my right arch when I got up this morning and I have decided I would be smarter to continue resting it than to resume jogging this week as intended.



Showing off my Boston Marathon medal after
the post-race presentation (it is engraved
Top 10, though awarded to each of the top
50 in recognition of the growth in numbers).

I know I am vacillating on the rehabilitation plan, but I am starting to recognise that there's less than 14 weeks to the Melbourne Marathon and my chances of a sub-3 are diminishing with each day that passes when I cannot train properly.  The pressure to resume training too quickly comes from the approaching Melbourne Marathon deadline and the reality is that Melbourne race is not the only race around.  Although I'm getting older as every day passes, there's no real reason why I should run slower in, say, January 2014, than in October 2013.  It's more a function of the length of the injury-free training lead up, than of age.

So, for now, I'm not even going to walk any distance until I feel the right arch is better.  If I'm lucky enough to be running pain-free by the end of next week, then I'm still a chance to be fit enough to run well in Melbourne.  If not, I'll just have to postpone my ambition for a couple of months and hope I get a better training lead-up.

Handicapped

I fronted up early for the Trotters' Kerry Anderson 10km Handicap Time Trial on a miserably wet and dark Saturday morning.  After getting the post-run drinks ready, I ran over to The Haven and for four laps of the road, splashing through puddles and trying not to trip over in the misty darkness.  It was important that I run about 3km for a warm-up if I want to be able to start the event at a reasonable pace.  I also wanted to see how sore my arch was and found it to be detectable but not painful.



Runners get ready to start in Terrigal Trotters' Kerry Anderson
Handicap on the Terrigal promenade

A couple of years ago, I began to notice that I was going into oxygen debt very early in races and struggling to get enough oxygen into my lungs.  After persevering for a year or two, I sought medical advice, was diagnosed with exercise-induced asthma, and have been on medication since then.  For the first time in a while, I began to feel like I was able to fill my lungs with a deep breath, and have been, on average, running more comfortably since.  However, it still works better if I start out slowly.



Backmarkers watch from shelter as the frontmarkers head out

The Trotters' Handicap is a fun event, generating lots of pre-race banter on social media and in person.  The Handicaps are published a week beforehand on the web and runners keenly scan for their own handicaps and those of potential rivals.  The handicaps are calculated to have all runners finish exactly at 7am, but of course this is not the way it works out.  There are always a couple of runners who get generous handicaps and then run their best times by a large margin.  I was off the same mark (6:18am) as two friends, Mike and James, and found the early pace just a little faster than I liked.  I could feel some minor pain in my right arch, but it wasn't causing me to limp, which was a good sign.  After a couple of kilometres, I warmed up and was running more freely to about the 6 kilometre mark, where my lack of racing caught up with me and I lost some momentum.

I finished with a time of 41:37, which was a little slower than I had hoped, but acceptable.  On the downside, high in my right arch there is now a some quite specific pain, even when I walk around.  I am fearful that I need a more extended rest from running to get it right, which will significantly impact my Melbourne Marathon preparation.  I won't jump to conclusions at this point, but will see how it feels tomorrow.