Does it matter

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

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

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

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

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

Marking time

Some of the Thursday morning track group.

The day started with supervision (I use the term loosely) of the Thursday morning track session at Terrigal Haven in the light of a beautiful sunrise.  Pity about the flies!

I now live in Terrigal, having moved here from Copa nine months ago, so am within walking distance of the track sessions at The Haven.  Walking there and back, my right heel seemed OK, and I was hopeful my post-track session training run would show that it had improved.

Some of the new trail I explored this morning.

As a little more motivation, I decided to check out a pathway I had seen on the map but never run along in the 11 years I have lived on the Central Coast.  It wasn't very long, but could be used to add variety to other runs if it proved runnable.

The first couple of kilometres of running were much better, pain-wise, and my mood improved.  But by the last few kilometres of the 9km run, the pain was a little more obvious.  Nevertheless, it was better than yesterday, and with another couple of easy running days scheduled, I'm hopeful it will be ready for a long run on Sunday.

The new path was short and quite runnable, so will provide an alternative to running up or down the busy Terrigal Drive when I want a change.

Am I dreaming?

Approaching the first turn-around in this morning's Trotters'
Brooks Hill 10km Time Trial (that's me in grey).
[Photo courtesy of Judy Murray]

I ran the Trotters' Brooks Hill 10km Time Trial this morning in 42:39, a time that was a little disappointing.  Of course, it's a tough 10km, there's still some stiffness and fatigue from last Sunday's Girrakool to Patonga long run, and it's hard to get the adrenalin pumping at 6:00am on a Saturday morning, but I still hoped for a faster time.

The hard reality is that my average pace over 10km this morning was almost exactly the same average pace I will need to maintain to achieve a 3 hour marathon.  Sadly, I felt like I was running flat out the whole way, and no part of the race was comfortable or enjoyable.  My heart rate average for the 10km was just 5bpm below my maximum rate!

I believe that I could maintain a pace of 15-20 seconds slower per kilometre (i.e. 4:30-35) over the marathon distance at present, which would yield a time of 3:15.  Somehow, I need to get my 10km time down to 40 minutes or less to have any hope of a sub-3 hour marathon.

If I was 40 years younger, I would be including some track sessions and short fast races to work on my speed.  However, every time I have tried track training in the last ten years, I have injured myself.  I'm also hesitant to change my current training routine which has yielded steady improvement without injury over the last six months, even though it includes little fast running.

I do believe that training and racing yield a cumulative benefit over time without the need to consciously increase the quantity or quality of your work-outs.  As you get fitter, you find your training runs get faster anyway.  On balance, I think my best approach is not to meddle with my training program and trust that speed improvement will come with time.  Nevertheless, it's hard not to get a little depressed about where I am, versus where I need to be.

Chubb Trail

Chubb Trail.

St Louis is a long way from anywhere, be it beaches, snowfields or National Parks.  And of all the places I have lived, St Louis provided the fewest good trail running opportunities.  That's not to say there aren't any, but they are not particularly long, nor very inspiring.

Chubb Trail.

There were a few I visited regularly when I got sick of running in the suburbs and local parks, and perhaps my favourite was the Chubb Trail which was only half an hour's drive from our home.  It was about 7 miles in length and my usual run would be out-and-back for 14 miles, and occasionally I would tack on the Castlewood Loop for an extra 3 miles.  The Trail, which generally followed the course of the Meramec River, started with a hilly section in Lone Elk County Park and ended with a climb to the turnaround in West Tyson County Park.  In between, in the river valley, it was flat, passing through an old farming area which is now a mix of forest and prairie.  It was all very runnable and the hills weren't too bad.

I wouldn't call it an exciting course, but I have pleasant memories of running there late on a weekend afternoon, with the sun setting as I finished, and in very chilly autumnal weather on leaf-covered trail.  One of my old friends from St Louis still runs the Chubb Trail regularly and I doubt it has changed much in the seventeen years since I was last there.

Running for me today was around my regular Thursday morning 11km circuit after the morning track session I supervise at Terrigal Haven.  I was hoping to feel fresher, but the legs were heavy and motivation was low.  I didn't push it in the hope I will recover some zest by the weekend.

Fred Lester

Fred Lester in full flight.

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

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

Fred Lester with his hero Emil Zatopek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Old age is no fun

This bike path, suspended below the freeway, wasn't here
when I used to run this course.

I've said it before.  Old age is no fun.  I spent Thursday (two days ago) driving the 1000km down from Copa to Melbourne for a family occasion this weekend, and unbelievably, I've acquired some kind of injury.  When I left Copa I was whole and since arriving in Melbourne I have been limping around with a very painful strained adductor muscle at the top of my right leg.  I stopped for a 6km run at Reef Hills State Park to break up the journey and it's probable that after sitting in the car for so long, my ageing ligaments and muscles had trouble dealing with some very gentle running.  I did some stretching followed by about 0.5km of walking before starting my slow jog, but it wasn't enough.

Fairview Park was a favourite part of my one of my old
running courses.

It's an injury I have had before, and I'm hopeful it will come good quickly.  I took a chance yesterday morning and still ran my planned 12km along one of my old running routes.  It was slow and the adductor hurt, but not all the time.  It was a beautiful morning and I soaked it up, taking some pictures along the way, and remembering all of the times I had run some parts of the course going back more than 40 years.  Unfortunately the run aggravated the injury, or at least stopped it improving, and I was limping badly for the balance of the day.

The run travels both sides of the Yarra River.

After a good night's sleep, I decided I would still attempt a shorter run today.  The leg injury didn't feel quite so bad walking around and I drove to Wattle Park, another old training haunt, to run a couple of laps in warm and blustery conditions.  The nostalgia was enhanced by the sight of some good female distance athletes going through a track session on the park's oval under the direction of their coach.  I wondered if it ever occurred to them that runners were using the same oval for similar track sessions more than 40 years ago.  Probably not.  We never thought about earlier era athletes training on the same oval, and they probably did.  The adductor was better than yesterday and I completed the hilly course with less pain.  Maybe after another good night's sleep it will be even better.

These trees were planted just after I first
started running through here.

The whole story just reinforces to me the need to work into any run very gently if I want to avoid injury at my advanced age.  I wonder how slowly my runs will start out in 20 years time.  The signs are ominous.

Signs are good

It was a little gloomy at Terrigal Haven this morning.

It was heart-warming at this morning's 6:00am Haven track session to have so many friends say how pleased they were for me on my return to running.

It is good to be running again, though I started my own 11km run after the track session with some apprehension.  Yesterday's heart monitor read-out after my 5km run showed a very irregular pattern for the first ten minutes, and I had felt a little uncomfortable during that time.  Today's run started with a good-sized hill, which I knew would be a good test of my heart rhythm, even if I took it slowly.  I reached the top without incident, as happened on the second long hill near the end.  Although I felt tired and unfit the whole way, it was satisfying to return to another of my regular courses.  Once home, I loaded the heart monitor data, fearing the worst, but found no evidence of any problems.

Looking north from Terrigal Haven this morning.

The next test for the day, about which I was also apprehensive, was a noon appointment with my cardiologist to check progress since the cardioversion three weeks ago.  He started with an electrocardiograph and followed it with a blood pressure test.  The former showed my heart continues to beat in sinus rhythm and the latter read 115/78.  All good!  We then had a conversation about my prognosis during which he said I could resume my normal life.  I was particularly interested in the viability of a long backcountry hiking trip I hope to make later in the year down the Appalachian Trail in the US.  He said that, subject to carrying some precautionary medication, there was no reason to cancel, though he wants to see me again before I go.

Terrigal Haven this morning.

The possibility of reversion to Atrial Flutter remains (as high as 50% according to some research), but apparently my risk factors are low.  The way forward is becoming clearer and my optimism is growing.  I will continue running, but avoid racing, and resume planning my hiking trip.  It could be a lot worse.

Rob de Castella

Me (in green hoops) at the 16km mark en route to my PB marathon
(2nd, 2:19:06) behind Rob De Castella (1st, 2:14:44) at Point Cook,
Victoria, in June 1979.

One of my claims to fame is that I ran second to Rob de Castella, Australia's most famous marathoner, in his first marathon.  The apocryphal story is that Rob only ran the marathon, the 1979 Victorian Championship, to get a place in the Victorian team for the Australian Championship to be held in Perth later in the year.  His girlfriend lived in Perth, and he had no money.

I've often said that to be a great runner you need to inherit the right genes from your parents, have the self-discipline to do the necessary training and hard-nosed racing, and be lucky enough to avoid serious injury.  I think Rob had all of those attributes and used them to become the best in the world.

Winning the Cinque Mulini race
in Italy.

I first became aware of Rob when he was still a junior athlete and can remember him as an impoverished student driving an old Peugeot 403 and camping near us for one of the first Bacchus 12000 races at Griffith (see post titled Bacchus 12000).  There was no arrogance, but you sensed there was enormous potential and I was always a keen follower of his running career and proud to know him.

We were more acquaintances than friends, but often trained with the same groups, especially on the long Sunday runs in the Dandenongs (see post titled Ferny Creek 21).  As I recall, after running the regular 21 Miler for some years, I decided I needed to add some distance to bring it up to 25 miles some Sundays, and was gratified to see Rob occasionally following suit a few months later.  There were also some Wednesday evening runs in Melbourne.  They were fast 15-20 milers after work over inner city parks and roads and I can remember grimly hanging on to the small bunch of class runners as we flew across Royal Park at better than 6 minute mile pace.

Although he had already represented Australia internationally as a cross-country runner, that first marathon in 1979 signalled the start of a famous career that included Commonwealth Games, World Championship, Boston and New York titles, along with a world's best time.

The last time I trained with Rob was when we passed through Boulder, Colorado, where he was living as a full-time professional athlete, while travelling the US in 1985.  The morning run was a few miles with him and Rosa Mota, one of the best female marathoners of her era, and the evening session was on the track at the local university where I was totally out of my depth in twelve laps of sprinting the straights.

He was always a class, or two, above me as a runner, but I felt a kinship because I knew first-hand how hard he trained to get where he did.

I ran just 5km around Copa this morning, but maybe ran a little harder.  I coped well enough, but never felt comfortable.  I was stiff and my knees hurt.  What was more disturbing, however, was the post-run read-out on my heart monitor which showed an erratic beat for the first ten minutes.  It could be a technical glitch, but I was conscious of an uneasy feeling in my chest early in the run.  Memo to self: start slowly and build into future runs.

Finding the boundaries

Coast Road in North Avoca tested my limits this morning.

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

Wamberal Beach from my walk this morning.

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

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

Terrigal Beach this morning.

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

Terrigal Haven this morning.

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

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

Caffeine

45mg of caffeine in my
favourite tipple

Early in my running career I consumed quite a lot of caffeine.  In my twenties, I routinely drank six or seven cups of strong coffee a day, including a cup just before bed which didn't seem to affect my sleep.  At 150mg of caffeine per cup, I would have been consuming about 1000mg of caffeine per day, way above the recommended daily dose (600mg according to the New South Wales Health Department).  At some point, I decided that this was a bad thing because on weekends, when I didn't consume cups of coffee as regularly as when working, I tended to get headaches.  I went "cold turkey" and after two weeks of mild headaches and irritability, the addiction was gone and I did feel generally better.

My running regime makes it important to drink large amounts of fluid, and I have got into the habit of always having a drink at hand.  It's easier to keep hydrating if you enjoy the drink and I have never enjoyed drinking just water.  For a few years I managed to stay caffeine-free, drinking decaffeinated coffee and soft drinks, but when I began my expatriate working life in 1987, and was constantly travelling to different countries, these were not always readily available.

Gradually I settled into accepting the caffeine content of diet colas (Diet Coke seems to be available in most places), which I enjoy drinking (way too much, according to my friends), and trying to limit the consumption to about four cans a day.  I also accepted the occasional coffee.  This would have added up to about 200mg to 300mg of caffeine a day, not an addictive quantity and within the recommended daily maximum.

My "heart-starter" in the last 10 years has been my
pre-run cup of strong black coffee (~175mg of caffeine)

After retiring from work in 2003 and joining Terrigal Trotters in 2004, I changed my regime to having an early morning strong cup of black coffee when I got up and before going for my early morning run.  It helped wake up my body at a time when advancing age seemed to be making the early miles of any run harder and harder, especially the Trotters' 6:00am, or earlier, starts.  I calculate my morning coffee as having about 175mg of caffeine, which is quite a large dose, and though it had the desired effect of pumping me up for the run, it was not always a pleasant feeling and I could often feel veins pulsing in my temple.

The reason for discussing caffeine now is that my research has shown it can be a risk factor in the Atrial Flutter with which I have been recently diagnosed.  Although not the likely cause in my case, it has been a trigger for me to reevaluate my caffeine intake.  My sense is that eliminating the strong early morning coffee and limiting myself to four diet colas a day (or 200mg of caffeine a day), will be a positive move, and that is what I did from last weekend.  I noticed a head-achy feel the first few days and then yesterday morning, after a very early start for the Thursday track session at Terrigal Haven followed by a 10km walk, this developed into a full-blown migraine that had me in bed from about 1:00pm through to 7:00am this morning.  I can't say that it was a withdrawal headache for sure, and given the clots in my bloodstream and the Warfarin I'm taking, there's always a nagging concern it could be something more sinister.  However, today I feel a bit better, though my weekly INR test this morning showed my anti-coagulant level is significantly above the target range (4.8 when it should between 2.0 and 3.0) and I wonder whether this was a factor somehow.

Caffeine is a legal stimulant and research has shown benefits to long-distance runners.  I have experimented with its use and will talk about that in a future blog post.

Perseverance is not always good

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sleep

Late night dinner in the western Queensland town of
Cloncurry while trying to break the round Australia
record in 2007

The problem with Thursdays is, that after getting up early to supervise the 6:00am Terrigal Trotters track session at The Haven, I eat late and get to bed late after supervising the 6:00pm track session at Adcock Park in Gosford.  (I'm not complaining about the track sessions.  I find them rewarding and it's a way for me to pay back with a bit of volunteering after a working career during which my volunteering was minimal.)

As I get older, it seems I like my sleep more.  If golf is scheduled for early Friday morning, as it often is, I get very tired and start to dread the early starts that follow on Saturday and Sunday.

Crossing the Atherton Tableland in the Northern Territory
during the 2008 attempt to break the round Australia record

I'm sure that all serious runners think about the amount of sleep they get and regret that they don't get more.  Earlier in my running career, I envied the full-time athletes who had nothing to do all day but train and sleep and figured this could be a key factor in their success.  I also used to get stressed if I could not get a good night's sleep before a big race.

However, as I have aged, my views on sleep have become more relaxed.  I now don't worry if I get insufficient sleep the night before a big race.  Instead, I try and get a few good nights' sleep in the week before and just take what I can get the night before.  Often you are sleeping in a strange place or maybe sharing accommodation and subject to the night routine of others.  Despite a lack of sleep, I have found the adrenalin, excitement and atmosphere of race day is enough to get you up mentally for the race.  The last thing you need to be worrying about is a sleepless night.  Once the race starts, you tend to forget all about it.

Taking a break in the Northern Territory during the 2009
attempt to break the round Australia record

The other thing I have learned is that I can survive on a lot less sleep than I would like.  During my working career, I averaged a little over six hours per night, but functioned fine so long as I was doing something.  If I sat still in a presentation or lecture, or on a plane, I was prone to go to sleep, but if I kept working I was fine.  The real sleep test for me came during my three failed attempts to break the record for riding a bike solo and unsupported around Australia.  I soon learned that success was as much a function of being able to operate on little sleep as it was on cycling prowess.  Almost all nights were limited to four to five hours sleep, with 1:00am starts, 300 kilometre days, and occasional brief cat-naps during the day if I became too tired to continue.  I was amazed at what my body could do if tested, though if you consider the privations of, say, soldiers in the trenches during the First World War, my efforts were modest.

The lesson for me about sleep is that you should get as much as you can, but not sweat it if you run short.  So long as you are motivated, you can keep going on minimal sleep.

Not wanting to leave today's run until after the morning golf game, I got myself up at 4:30am and squeezed in a slow 5km around Copa in the early morning half light.  My right Achilles was quite painful and my pace was slow, but I do feel I'm moving more freely.  It's the monthly Terrigal Trotters 10km Time Trial tomorrow, and I would like to run a reasonable time, but am trying to avoid any expectations.  I feel that my overall fitness is at about 75% of where I would like to be, and this is unlikely to translate into a good 10km time.

Hidden treasures

Trails atop Kincumba Mountain

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

Looking east over Avoca Beach from Kincumba Mountain

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

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

Central Park

Central Park, New York

I was joking with the members of the Terrigal Trotters track group this morning about how the session, which involved striding the straights and jogging the bends of the grass track, was the antidote to the "garbage" runs we do most of the time - the runs we generally do from home, around a regular course and at no specific place, just to maintain fitness.  My own run, following the track session, was truly garbage.  I started slow and finished no faster, coughing and hawking the whole way, and never feeling like a runner.  It's hard to believe, that four months ago, I was hopeful of being in sub-3 hour marathon shape about now.  I seem to be regressing rather than progressing.

Training in Central Park, New York
(courtesy, Robert Caplin for the New York Times)

Turning my mind to happier running times and more inspiring garbage runs, perhaps the best known garbage run in the world is around New York City's Central Park, a run I came to know and love over 16 years of business trips to New York, sometimes for extended periods.  There are other places to run in New York, principally along the Hudson and East River waterfronts, but none comes close to Central Park for interest and challenge.  I soon learned to book myself into hotels and apartments convenient to the Park if at all possible on trips to the Big Apple.  In the late 80s, the seedy Days Inn on W57th Street, a couple of blocks from the Park, was a frequent stopover.  It certainly established my budget-conscious credentials with my colleagues, and the rooms all reeked of cigarette smoke, but the clientele was often exotic and it was common to find the lobby full of ballet dancers from the collapsing Soviet Union (it was also close to the Lincoln Center) or nefarious-looking tanned and bejewelled foreign businessmen.  I also spent a lot of time at the mid-town Club Quarters, a business hotel ten blocks south of the park, and for a three-month period, had an apartment close to Times Square and the theatre district.  Of course, I didn't go and see a single show during that period.

Sharon running in Central Park, New York,
during our Christmas 2009 visit

Even the runs to and from Central Park in the early mornings along the broad and quiet 5th, 6th or 7th Avenues, dodging the hose spray from janitors cleaning the sidewalks beneath the towering skyscrapers, were a time to stretch out and appreciate life's blessings.  Once at Central Park, you would become one of an ever-increasing throng of runners joining the merry-go-round from surrounding streets and apartment blocks.  Most runners travelled anti-clockwise on the largely traffic-free loop road, but not all ran the big loop which took you right up to the edge of Harlem.  Some preferred flat laps of the reservoir which provided great views of the city skyline, while others had their own shorter loops utilising some of the cross-roads and paths.  I liked the full 10km lap around the outer road.  It incorporated some good hills, long straight stretches and plenty of greenery.  You could hear and occasionally glimpse the busy city traffic on the roads adjacent to the Park, but it was relatively peaceful inside the Park unless you strayed a little wide from the pedestrian lane and got shouted at by one of the cyclists who looped the Park at speed.  There were literally hundreds of runners circling the Park in the peak morning hours, and if you were feeling good, you always had somebody up ahead to catch and pass at impressive speed.

The runners exemplified New Yorkers and included some strange sights.  I remember one guy who always ran in shorts and bare-chested, even when the temperature was well below freezing (his chest was very red on those days), as well as a variety of incredibly well-muscled Atlases and Amazons.  Others always looked immaculate in the latest gear whilst a few looked like they had been sleeping in the Park before their run.

I never had a bad experience running in Central Park, though I do vividly remember one morning when I ran there at 4:00am because of an early flight out, and found myself the only runner there.  I could see shadowy figures in places by the side of the road in several places and ended up running down the very middle of the road, adrenalin pumping, ready to make a speedy escape in any direction if necessary.  Nothing happened.  I would love to still be able to run some laps of Central Park on a regular basis, but opportunities are few and far between these days.

Waiting for momentum

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Never give up

Bill running in the 2006
Bay to Bay 12km Fun Run

I was a little anxious about how this morning's run would go after the running Six at Six last night, but wanted to go a decent distance to compensate for missing the originally planned long run yesterday.  So after the Thursday morning track session at The Haven, I set out to run my regular 16km course.  My legs were dead, and it felt like I needed new shock absorbers in my joints, but I plodded around at a slow pace, keeping myself going with the thought of a muffin and milkshake reward at the end.  My right arch was sore on the downhills and my right Achilles was sore on the uphills so that added to my misery, but I don't think either of these injuries is bad enough to stop my return to full training in the next few weeks.

I feel a sense of sadness today, because a much-respected Terrigal Trotter died yesterday after a relatively brief illness.  Bill had had a good innings, as they say, reaching his late eighties, but even a few months ago he seemed destined to keep recording his Saturday morning runs at Trotters for another few years yet (he was up to 658!).

In his mid-eighties, Bill was a regular at my Tuesday evening track sessions on the grass track in Gosford.  He was exasperated with how much speed he had lost in the previous few years, and annoyed that he wasn't making the official cut-off times in races that mattered to him.  We decided that it would be a good idea for him to focus on shorter repetitions, 200m and 300m, in the hope of improving his form, stride length and speed.  He was still quite capable of completing the regular Trotters Saturday morning runs, so stamina and determination weren't the issues.

Each week he would come down to the track and run his repetitions as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast.  I would see him coming down the straight, going as hard as he could, often leaning slightly sideways, with little kids from Frank's squad flying past him - the eight year olds vs the eighty year old.  As he crossed the line each time, he would fumble with his watch trying to press the stop button.  Sometimes, this would take up to ten seconds, and then he would struggle to read it and tell me his time for recording.  Almost invariably, he would be dissatisfied, and would "harrumph" disgustedly before trudging off across the ground to begin his next repetition.

He was everything I want to be in my eighties.  Determined not to give in easily to old age, unwilling to accept the standards society seeks to impose on octogenarians, and living his life to the full.  He knew, and we knew, that he couldn't go on forever, but that doesn't make it any less sad that he has gone.

Familiar companions

As you get older, you get used to running with
 chronic injuries.  Nearing the finish of the
1991 Watford (UK) Half Marathon (~75mins)

After an "easy" day yesterday, I wanted to run a bit further this morning.  I'm still coming back from the right arch injury and my goal is to be back in full training by the end of August.  However, because the injury is still present to a degree, I'm reluctant to adopt my usual "get fit quick" plan of long runs every three or four days.  Instead, I'm alternating easy runs with "longish" runs and gradually increasing the distance.

So, despite feeling slow and unfit, I set out on a 16.5 km loop from The Haven after the Thursday morning track session.  I felt I was barely making forward progress up the first steep hills on the Scenic Highway, and my right leg was a bit of a basket case, with the knee, arch and Achilles tendon, all painful.  As it flattened out and I covered more distance, I began moving more freely, but the right leg problems remained extant.  It was never an easy run, and the hills were particularly tough, but my time of 1:26 was just a couple of minutes slower than last time I ran the same course two months ago.

A non-athlete might ask why anyone would not only continue to run, but increase their mileage, when they are carrying injuries.  I say non-athlete, because most sports people, and especially those past their prime, frequently train and compete while carrying injuries.  Often these injuries are as familiar as old friends, or maybe companions is a better word.

I don't enjoy the pain I get from my right knee and Achilles tendon, but they are well known to me and I don't expect them to stop me running, though accept it will happen some time.  My recent right arch injury is beginning to enter the same category.  For the last few weeks, the pain is always there, some times worse than others, but I now have enough experience of the injury to know that I can back up and run the next day without it getting worse.  The pain is becoming familiar and manageable.  It's more tolerable because I have less fear that it will become worse, or affect my running form enough to cause compensatory injuries.  The injuries are most likely connected, and my optimistic view is that my body will gradually adapt and the pain will diminish.

It would be nice to run injury-free, and I know there will be occasional purple patches ahead of me when everything is functioning well, but more often than not there will be some pain while running.  I judge the benefit from continuing to run as far outweighing the costs.  The pain generally stops, or is vastly reduced, when I stop running and I then enjoy the health benefits and sense of well-being that accompanies fitness.

Orthotics or not

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.