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.

Ron Clarke

Ron Clarke

Way back in the mid-1960s, I was living in London where my father had been posted for three years.  Like many young teenagers, I played several different sports and still believed, that one day, I could be world class in one of them.  Sadly, reality gradually dawned on the tennis court, cricket ground and rugby field as I recognised a lacked of the physique and ball skills to ever be a champion.

Like many expatriates I was proud when homeland heroes did well on the international stage and Ron Clarke toured Europe at just the right time to get my attention.  Just a few months after my family settled in the UK in 1965, Ron toured the US and Europe, breaking 12 track world records, including becoming the first man ever to run 3 miles in less than 13 minutes, 6 miles in less than 27 minutes and 10,000m in less than 28 minutes.  The times themselves didn't mean much to me, but Ron's style of running did.  Although he seemed to lack the finishing kick to win tactical major Games titles, he was a machine when it came to world record attempts.  He generally ran from the front and gradually burned off his competitors, often breaking world records by prodigious amounts.  Ron was indisputably the best distance runner in the world during the mid-60s.  Possessing the characteristics of toughness, discipline and excellence that I admired and aspired to, he was a worthy hero.  I don't want to overplay it, but he certainly got me thinking that running might be my sport.

Ron Clarke wins bronze in the 10,000m at the 1964 Tokyo
Olympics behind Billy Mills (USA) and Mohammed
Gammoudi (Tunisia)

After returning to Australia and getting more serious about my running, I became even more appreciative of Ron's talents and record.  I probably saw him at Victorian running events during this time, but have no specific memory.  However, when I began to reach my marathon prime in the late 70s and did well in some bigger races we had some brief interactions and he got to know who I was.  I remember being very proud when I won a small fun run in Melbourne's north-eastern suburbs and Ron, who was presenting the prizes, referred to me as one of Australia's up-and-coming distance runners.  I can also remember him giving me a toot on his car horn near the Tan as I ran to work during the morning commute.  His acknowledgement seemed to give my running efforts credibility in my own mind, and that was important to me.

Ron Clarke tracks Michel Jazy (France) during a
1965 two mile race in France in which Jazy
broke the world record

The sad thing about Ron's career was that it was brought to a premature end by a heart problem he believes developed during the high altitude Mexico City Olympics in 1968.  He faded quickly in the last few laps of the 10,000m final after being in contention with two laps to go, collapsed unconscious after crossing the line and was given oxygen.  A few years later he was diagnosed with a heart defect and in 1983, after suffering fibrillation during a run, had successful surgery to replace a faulty valve.  You can read an excellent summary of Ron's career here.

No fibrillation or flutter for me today as I walked a flat 7km for exercise.  I felt fine, but remain despondent that this is all the exercise I am allowed for the next six weeks.  It's very tempting to see if I can jog around my usual Copa 5km course at an easy pace, but I guess I'll follow the doctor's orders.

Get fit quick

Runners lining up for the start of last night's Central Coast
10km/1hr Championship at the Mingara Athletic Track
(courtesy Judy Murray)

By my usual standards, it was a late night last night.  I had been helping officiate at the local Central Coast 10km/1hr Championships at the Mingara Athletics Club twilight meeting and didn't get home and finish dinner until 9:00pm.

It's about the only time I get involved in track meetings these days, as the event is jointly sponsored by my club, Terrigal Trotters, and I generally help out with the lap-scoring.  For some years in the early 1980s, I was secretary to the committee that organised all regular track and field competition in Victoria (involving thousands of athletes) and managed a number of track and field meetings, so saw plenty of track racing, as well as competing myself.

I keep saying I will run in the 10km one year, but don't really have fond memories of 10km track races and don't want to do it unless I'm running well.  Twenty-five laps of the track can be mentally tougher than the marathon, and I always preferred the latter.  I don't think I ever achieved my potential at the track 10km (despite winning an Australian Universities title in 1979) and often wondered whether it was a lack of mental toughness.

Part of the lap-scoring crew, ready to go for the Central
Coast 10km/1hr Championship last night
(courtesy Judy Murray)

Last night's racing was fun to watch and a number of runners achieved Personal Best times, while others ran their best times for some years.  I always find it inspiring to be present on such occasions and feel very happy for the athletes.  Others did it tough, but soldiered on to the end anyway.  Also inspiring.

My late night made it that much harder to get up at 4:00am, as I did this morning, to beat the heat for my planned 36.5km run around Brisbane Water (see Round the Bay).  The Melbourne Marathon is only eleven days away, so it might seem a risky strategy to embark on a third 30+km run within eight days, but I think it's appropriate for where I am of my personal fitness scale.  I know I am not currently capable of running anywhere near a sub-3 hour marathon in Melbourne, but would like to comfortably run faster than the 3:24 I recorded at the Macleay River Marathon on 9 June 2013.  I feel I am fitter than I was then and have been running better in the past week.  Whatever time I run in Melbourne, will be the base on which to build for a faster marathon in three months time.

The reason for the series of long runs every three or four days, is that this has worked best for me in the past to quickly return from injury.  I'll do one more long run this Sunday, a week before Melbourne, and then have a very quiet week in the hope that I freshen up and that the chronic injuries ebb away a little.  If I was fitter, I would have a longer taper, but at this stage I believe that the current series of long training runs has the potential to improve my marathon time by 5-10 minutes by Melbourne.  Assuming, of course, I don't get injured.

This morning's run was relatively comfortable for the first 24km, but my legs became very tired in the last 12km, and I slowed.  I messed up my timing, but think it was between 3:10 and 3:15.  I would like to be running faster, but have to accept that I had a hard long run three days ago, and my legs and chronic injuries are still feeling the effects.

Outclassed

Peter Norman finishing second in the 200m Final
in the 1968 Mexico Olympics

Amongst the early highlights of my running career were the occasional encounters with world class athletes.  In a previous post, Brushes with fame, I wrote about crossing paths with New Zealand greats, John Walker and Rod Dixon.  Much earlier, in April 1970, at the age of 19, I had the thrill of racing against an Olympic Silver Medallist.

It came about at one of the country athletics meetings to which my club-mates and I used to travel in my early running career.  Most of us were still living at home and these meetings, in Victorian country towns such as Horsham, Stawell, Halls Gap, Strathmerton, Myrtleford and Omeo, provided a great reason for us to get away for a weekend.  The usual routine involved driving up late on the Friday night, often after a volleyball game, camping at or near the track, racing on the Saturday afternoon, adjourning to the local pub on Saturday night in the hope of meeting some girls (rarely successful), and a longish run on the Sunday morning before driving home.  Apart from the attraction of a weekend away with our mates, the track meetings were an opportunity to be big fish in a little pond.

A track meeting at Stawell, Victoria, in the early 1970s

They were usually part of an annual town festival, with the track marked out on the local football ground and other events, such as highland dancing competitions and wood-chopping, going on around the perimeter.  We always fancied our chances of coming away with some trophies, but there always seemed to be a local dark horse who showed us our place.  I can't remember why, maybe because of some family connection to the area, but the big attraction for this particular weekend at the Wimmera Athletic Club meeting in Horsham (300km north-west of Melbourne) was to be Peter Norman, who had finished second in the 200m final at the Mexico Olympics just two years earlier.

A track meeting at Myrtleford, Victoria, in the early 1970s

Early in the afternoon, I had competed in my primary event, the 880 yards, without distinction, finishing unplaced in 2:06.  After the 880, I discovered that there were still some places available in the 220 yards, an hour or two later.  I suspect that was because only a limited number of local sprinters were willing to be embarrassed by Peter Norman, but this didn't bother me as a brash 19 year old with no sprinting ability.  I booked my place in the race and don't recall where I finished (almost certainly last), but my time of 25.7 would have put me about half-way down the straight when Norman crossed the line.  The only thing I really do remember about the race was that Peter Norman was a chatty down-to-earth guy without a hint of arrogance or pretentiousness.  His speed was awesome.

I walked for about 5km this morning, and found that so long as I concentrated on keeping my right foot aligned with the direction of travel, i.e., not splayed to the side, as is my habit, the pain in my injured right knee was not so bad.  I sense that I may be able to resume limited running tomorrow as long as I keep that right foot pointing forward.  Time will tell.

Sunday morning long runs

Peter Snell

Sunday morning long runs are in my DNA.  Since my late teens, with some large gaps, Saturday has tended to be competition and Sunday the long run.  It would probably be smarter to have a recovery day after competition and do the long run on Monday, but there are few athletes with weekday commitments who can afford to do this, so the tradition has evolved.

The weekly long run had its genesis in the coaching philosophy of Arthur Lydiard, a New Zealander who coached a number of Olympic champions in the 1960s.  Even his 800m double Olympic champion, Peter Snell, ran 100 miles per week in his base training period, including a 35km long run in the hills outside Auckland each Sunday.

Near the top of the first Orchard Run climb

I read some of Lydiard's books early in my running career, and adapted his training programs for my own use.  The idea of running 100 miles a week had great appeal for me, and I especially enjoyed the long Sunday run in the Dandenong Ranges outside of Melbourne that became a regular part of my program.  Since that time, any Sunday morning without a long run seems somehow incomplete.  If Sunday doesn't work for some reason, maybe a race, then I try and schedule the long run for Monday or Tuesday.

Orchard Run

This morning, I decided to do the Orchard Run, one of the favourite long run courses for Central Coast athletes.  It's out-and-back along little-used forest roads, with a nasty climb early on (and, therefore, a steep descent on the return).  Part of the appeal is that it is quite accessible, starting outside the Palmdale Crematorium, which has, on occasions, felt like an appropriate finishing place for me.



Near the Orchard Run turn-around

I started under clear skies at 6:15am and found it cold during the first couple of kilometres along the valley floor, but soon warmed up as I tackled the most significant climb of the day, gaining 175m in 2km.  This is a great run to do when you are fit, because you can recover quickly from the hills and stride out on the flats and downhills, but today wasn't one of those days.  My plan was to try and run within myself, knowing that I would be very tired by the end, even at a slow pace.  My right Achilles was also painful after yesterday's hard run, so I was running a little awkwardly to protect it while it warmed up.  It was a beautiful sunny and still morning in the dense forest punctuated by occasional bird calls.  I could see different kinds of tracks on the sandy road surface as I ran, and tried to work out which animals had made them during the night.

Looking north to the Yarramalong Valley from near
the Orchard Run turn-around

Despite a fall after 8km, which took some skin off my right knee, I reached the turn-around point in 1:40, tired but still moving OK.  It always amazes me how many climbs there are on the return trip in this run.  In theory, the run is primarily up on the way out and down on the way back, but there are many descents on the way out that just don't seem to register.  My injured right arch became sore on the final descent and I took it gingerly, but it was OK for the last flat 2km which always seem to take forever on tired legs.  My finishing time was 3:10, which is about 30 minutes slower than my best for the course, so there's plenty of room for improvement.  However, though hard work the whole way, I know that these training runs are "money in the bank" and I will reap the rewards of the investment in the weeks and months to come.

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. 

Lack of patience

I featured on the advertising poster for the
1980 Whyalla Marathon

I ran another 5km round the streets of Copa this morning, a little faster than yesterday, which was a little faster than the day before.  The sore arch is still lingering in the 3 out of 10 pain range, but maybe getting marginally better.  There's a specific point on the arch where the pain is sharp, but not intense.  More like the pain you would get from a blister.  I hope I'm not on the slippery slope, where I'm so enjoying getting back to some running, that there's a temptation to ignore the pain and keep going.

At least I'm not as bad as 30 years ago when, once I got quite fit, I could not bring myself to pass up opportunities to win races and accept any related travel, despite carrying significant injuries.  In the first half of 1980, I incurred what was initially a minor knee problem, diagnosed as a small tear in my patella tendon.  A few weeks off, once I realised it was more than a passing niggle, would probably have fixed the problem.  But I was on a high after running my first sub-2:20 marathon a year earlier, was very fit, and wanted to "cash in" on my heavy training investment.

The [Euroa] Gazette, 15 April 1980

In particular, I was very keen to take up an all expenses paid trip to Whyalla for the Whyalla Marathon, which I had won the previous year, and to do well in the Australian Intervarsity Championships in Hobart, representing the University of Melbourne where I was doing my Masters part-time.

Initially, I took anti-inflammatories to reduce the pain and enable continued training, but when this didn't do the job, I had a cortisone injection in the offending knee from my sports doctor.  I was warned to train less in the days following the injection, but my definition of "less" involved 120 kilometres of running, including a 15km race, in the ensuing five days.  It was less than I had been doing, but probably not "less" by the doctor's definition, and I paid the price.

Extracts from my 1980 Training Diary

I managed to get through the Whyalla Marathon, coming a disappointing second in 2:30, but a month later, needed another cortisone injection to get me through the Intervarsity week.

Despite two weeks of rest after Intervarsity, my knee wasn't improving and I ended up having surgery to stitch my patella tendon back together and clean out all of the scar tissue.

It was another couple of months before I could begin running seriously again, which in retrospect, seems a fast recovery.  But the reality was that I lost more than six months of my prime running years because of this injury, instead of six weeks if I had managed it conservatively.  Of course, I had some wins and great experiences during this period, but it doesn't compare to what I might have achieved if I had heeded the early indicators of knee trouble and had some time off.

Brushes with fame

John Walker wins Gold at the 1976 Montreal Olympics

After supervising the regular Thursday morning track session at The Haven this morning I walked a 5km loop wearing my new insoles with arch supports.  It is definitely more comfortable walking with the arch supports, and there is less pain.  It's tempting to try running, though I can tell, when I move my foot in certain ways, that the problem remains.  I don't believe the walk did me any harm, so I'll try the same again tomorrow morning if nothing changes.  Maybe I'll get the bike out on the weekend for some additional exercise.

When relating the tale of my attempt to run the Milford Track in New Zealand in a recent post, I was reminded of another humorous running anecdote from the same trip.  As mentioned, in January 1979, we were a group of four couples on a sightseeing and camping tour of New Zealand in a minibus.  The males in the group were all serious runners and we looked for opportunities to compete in local events wherever possible.  Towards the end of the trip, we managed to talk our way into participating in a high-profile evening international track meeting at Hamilton on the North Island.  It was part of a summer circuit in New Zealand and I suspect we got in more because we were Australians, than because of our talent.

Rod Dixon went on to an exciting and close win
in the 1983 New York Marathon

The Mile was the feature event and New Zealand boasted some of the best Milers in the world at that time.  Two of them, John Walker (Gold Medal 1500m, 1976 Montreal Olympics) and Rod Dixon (Bronze Medal 1500m, 1972 Munich Olympics), were running, along with several other New Zealanders and Ken Hall (Australian Champion 1500m, 1977).  Two of my friends, JB and Pratty, managed to inveigle their way into the Mile field (much to Ken Hall's amazement).

The pace was hot in the Mile and the field well spread out with a lap to go.  John Walker cruised to a win in 3:56 with Rod Dixon second and the rest of the field trailing behind.  Poor Pratty, who wasn't even into the home straight when Walker finished, found himself weaving through fans who had poured on to the track to congratulate their hero, for the last 100m to the finishing line.

Keith and I didn't have the credibility to get into the Mile, but were happy to get a run in the lower key 3000m event.  I finished in 8:37, somewhere in the middle of the field, and later walked back to the changing rooms.  As I approached the door, I was flattered to have an autograph book thrust in front of me by a young track fan until he opened his mouth and asked "Can you please get me John Walker's autograph?"

Army influences

I

This exit from the Hume Highway was very familiar to
me in 1971/72.

drove the 1,000 kilometres back from Melbourne to Copa today and didn't manage to squeeze in any exercise.  Whenever I drive to or from Melbourne along the Hume Highway, the first 100 kilometres up to Seymour and the Puckapunyal Army Camp turn-off, evokes strong memories.
One evening in late 1970, I was helping wash the dishes in my family's kitchen and listening to the radio when they broadcast the lottery in which marbles marked with all of the dates in the latter half of 1970 were drawn.  If you turned twenty in that half year, and the date of your birthday was drawn out of the barrel (22% chance), you were destined for two years of National Service in the Australian Army.  My birthday marble was drawn.  I was finishing my second undergraduate year at Monash University and could have sought a year's deferment, but I was living at home, riding a Honda 50cc motorbike (hardly a "chick magnet"), and perennially short of money despite various casual and vacation jobs.  The Army offered generous tertiary education support for ex-serviceman, and I wasn't philosophically opposed to the Vietnam War at the time, so I didn't seek a deferment and started my military career in April 1971.  I hoped to continue my running, but didn't really have any idea how practicable this would be.



Mug shot on arrival at the Officer Training Unit (OTU),
Scheyville, in April 1971 (I'm the one in glasses!).

The first two weeks of basic training, with about 3,000 other recruits in the 2/71 Intake, involved multiple haircuts, tedious chores, hours of marching and drill, and scary guard duty armed only with a bayonet.  It also included an officer selection process and I was picked to join 180 other recruits at the Scheyville Officer Training Unit (OTU) west of Sydney for a very intensive six-month training process.  There was a new intake every three months, so a senior class was already in residence.  On the second day at OTU, they had their quarterly cross-country race.  Despite not having run at all for nearly three weeks, I won the race easily and equalled the course record, despite stopping numerous times to wait for following senior classmen to show me the way.


Some of my fellow OTU classmates after we had returned
exercises in what is now Wollemi National Park

I have found right throughout my life that distance runners are a respected group in society.  Maybe this is because most people have competed in distance running events at some point in their lives and have a good first-hand appreciation of the discipline and effort that success requires.  My win immediately made me the best known recruit in the whole of the OTU and this proved to be of great benefit, so long as I didn't screw-up.  Cadets were continually assessed by all of the OTU staff who were required to carry around notebooks and allocate comments and ratings in different categories, such as "Cool Under Stress", on everything they saw.  Since they all knew my name right from the start, and because I believe there was a positive view of me after the race win, I think I got a head start on my classmates (although we never knew the results until the end of our course).  The pressure on the cadets was immense and continuous, and I quickly learned valuable lessons about personal organisation and concurrent action, which have stood me in good stead ever since.  There was another cross-country race three months later when the next intake arrived, that I also won, but my time was slower.  I'm sure I was the only cadet who ever finished their six months training less fit than when they had started.  I did get special dispensation to leave the camp area for occasional training runs, but we only had 30 minutes of free time each day, so 5km was about as far as I could go.  I was 4kg heavier by the time I graduated six months later, eighth in my class.



My OTU Class Graduation Parade, October 1971

The Vietnam War was winding down, and no graduates in my class were to be posted overseas.  Like many of my colleagues at the time, I was disappointed.  I didn't want to kill anybody, but I did want to know how I would handle the pressures and challenges of leadership in a combat situation.  I wanted to test myself.  Since an overseas posting wasn't possible, I requested a posting near Melbourne so I could resume my running career with my club and friends.  The Army, who thought I was a better athlete than I really was, tried to be accommodating and I was posted to a Transport Training Unit at Puckapunyal, 100 kilometres north of Melbourne.

Graduation from OTU

As a very green twenty year old Second Lieutenant, I was put in charge of seven NCOs and fifty recruits, and I often look back with embarrassment at how I handled my responsibilities (or didn't, as the case may be).  I was arrogant, self-centred, over-confident, immature and made many errors of judgment, though fortunately none serious.  I didn't really take the Army seriously.  I avoided tasks I didn't like, if I possibly could, and failed to lead by example in others.  My uniform was less than stellar, I took off to Melbourne on Wednesday afternoons "for a run", while the rest of the battalion participated in compulsory sport, and I couldn't be bothered getting my truck licence, despite leading a driver training platoon.  I was elected "Mess Member" at the Officers Mess, with responsibility for meal and wine selection, and couldn't care less about either.  I didn't drink alcohol or "party" (one reason I was put in charge of bar supplies), to the chagrin of my fellow junior officers, and once had twelve stitches inserted in my brow after being punched by one of them for resisting an incursion into my room with a fire hose.  I used to drive between Melbourne and Puckapunyal several times a week, often at high speed in my new bright orange Datsun 1600.   The police once booked me for averaging 102 mph over a 5 mile stretch (got off with a fine, unbelievably) and I had one serious accident in which my car hit and rolled a turning minibus full of construction workers (fortunately, no serious injuries or police charges).

Program extract from my Battalion's
Athletics Carnival in Puckapunyal.

The Army did gradually knock me into shape, and I credit them with teaching me several valuable life lessons, particularly the need to lead by example and not ask anybody to do anything you wouldn't do yourself.  On several occasions, I had to deal with the relatives of soldiers who had been killed in exercises or traffic accidents, and one time was base duty officer when a fellow officer attempted suicide in his barracks.  Later in my time at Puckapunyal, I was made Admin Officer for the Company and, among other things, had a roll in resolving the personal problems of 300 recruits and NCOs.  It was a real eye-opener for a middle-class boy from the suburbs, and gave me a much greater understanding of the lives others live, and their complications.

I did manage to get more serious about my running career, often training on the tracks and hills of the tank training range, or out along minor country roads, in the evenings.  I can also remember regularly dragging my platoon out for 5km morning runs.  I won races ranging from the 110m Hurdles through to the 5,000m in various divisional championships within the Armed Forces and represented them against the Universities.  On most weekends, I also ran in Victorian competitions with my club.

The length of National Service was cut to eighteen months from two years by the incoming Labor Government while I was on duty and I left the Army in October 1972, a little bit older and wiser than when I entered.  I was surprised to be asked to stay on in the Army when the time came for my discharge, but I had had enough and was keen to finish my degree and get back to serious running.

Despondency

Central Park, Malvern

Sadly, it was evident to me after a few hundred metres of jogging this morning that my right arch is still not right.  I feel a weakness in the arch that causes me to slap my foot down more than I would like, so the problem remains.  It was very tempting to keep jogging, which I could have easily done, but common sense finally prevailed, and I walked the remaining 3km of my loop in very cold conditions, cursing my bad fortune.  Even crossing Malvern's Central Park near the end of my walk didn't raise my spirits.  Thirty years ago, I used to run along the eastern border of this small suburban park during one of my favourite mid-week long runs after work.  It was a source of inspiration then, and now, knowing that one of my childhood heroes, John Landy, spent many hours training there.

John Landy leads the Mile in the 1954 Empire
Games in Vancouver

It's hard to explain to someone who is not a runner how much you miss it when you can't run.  The warm and sweaty glow, the breathlessness, the tired limbs, the feeling of physical capability and power, and the sense of having done something worthwhile all contribute to a sense of well-being.  I have tried cycling, kayaking and swimming as substitutes when injured previously, but none of them quite fits the bill.

I came home from my walk and devoted an hour or two surfing medical websites trying to match my symptoms and work out the best rehabilitation plan.  Of course, I could go and see a doctor, get scans, orthotics, etc., but I do feel the injury is repairing, but it's slower than I hoped.  After looking at various possible diagnoses, the one which most matches my symptoms and seems the most probable is a minor strain of the Posterior Tibial Tendon.  The suggested treatment is rest and an arch support, and the pain is likely to last three months or longer.  The treatment wasn't very different for the other foot injuries that shared my symptoms, so there doesn't seem to be much point in pursuing medical help at this stage.

However, another three to five weeks of rest will certainly rule out any chance of a good performance in the Melbourne Marathon, so I need to reassess my goals and change my plans.  I do need a goal to give my recuperation and running a focus, but there's no need for a hasty decision.  I won't design a training program for another marathon, perhaps Hobart in January, until I'm sure that I will be able to train free of pain.

In the short-term, I do need to get my diet back "on the wagon", and work out whether I want to try cycling while the arch heals.  The argument for cycling is that it will give my cardio-vascular system a work out, but the arguments against include the inconvenience and my view that cycling builds leg muscles I don't need for running and will slow my comeback when I begin running again.  I'll take another few days to think about it.

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.

Other sports

Golf at 7am again this morning and I headed out for my easy 5km at 5:15am on the longest night of the year. It was cold and my right Achilles was sore, but didn't feel too bad considering how hard last night's track session had been for me.  One of the reasons that I squeeze my run in before golf is that I think it loosens me up a little.  There have been occasions in the past when I have run after golf and suffered from side or back injuries.  I can't specifically tie those injuries to golf, but I do think that participating in other sports can be risky if you are a serious runner.



Melbourne Herald, 1 February 1973

I gave up other sports I enjoyed playing, such as cricket, tennis and volleyball, during my twenties because either running took up too much time, or because of the risk of injury.  I also frequently represented my Club in hurdles and jump events, and even competed in the State Decathlon Championships when 22, coming 10th out of 18 entrants.  My pole-vaulting was execrable and inspired the accompanying article in the Melbourne evening newspaper.

In my late twenties, when I got really serious about my marathon running, I realised that injuries in other sports and events risked derailing my ambitions and I began to focus strictly on running.  I confess that I now question the value of time devoted to other types of training, such as cycling or cross-training, and particularly think they should not be substituted for running training for the serious runner.  But, everybody is different.  I always raced best when running a very high mileage (200km -240km per week) which didn't leave much time for other training when working full-time, but I know of others who have successfully used a different approach.

During my preparation for the Melbourne Marathon over the next four months, I have decided to stay away from my bike and kayak, just in case they are incompatible with the running.  I decided, however, that playing golf had lower risk, but after this morning am not so sure.  Not only did I play my worst round for a long time, but I could feel tingling nerves in my lower back and some stiffness from yesterday's track session.  The two are probably connected.  Hopefully, I will feel more flexible for tomorrow morning's run with Terrigal Trotters during which I hope to run hard.

Managing a chronic Achilles

Friday, 7 June 2013

Golf again early this Friday morning, so I was up even earlier to squeeze in the planned easy 5km run.  I definitely felt a bit looser as I moved around before leaving, though my right Achilles was quite stiff and sore.

Achilles surgery put an end to my steeple-chasing career
(on my way to a PB of 9:10 for the 3km Steeple, 19 Mar 77)

After four Achilles surgeries over the years, I’m very wary of forcibly stretching a painful Achilles.  I know from experience that forcing it will result in short-term flexibility and less pain during the run, but the next day it will be even stiffer and more painful before running.  By repeating the cycle, as I have done in the past, the injury becomes so chronic and severe that surgery becomes necessary.  Nowadays, I stretch it very gently before setting out, and then keep it slow and favour the offending Achilles until it gradually warms up.  The best solution might be to leave the run to the evening when it will have gently stretched from walking around all day, but this is not always practicable.

The Achilles did gradually loosen up during the this morning’s 5km but it was still sore at the end and my time was slowish.  On the plus side, the pain in my right groin is diminishing and I did feel like my running posture and stride length have improved since last week.

I think I’m on track to run the Macleay River Marathon on Sunday assuming the 10km run with Trotters goes all right tomorrow morning.