Lack of patience

A wintry looking evening at Terrigal when I went for a short
evening walk

I haven't been able to feel any pain from my calf strain for the last five days, either walking or running (though my chronic right heel problem bothers me most of the time), but have stuck to my plan of increasing my running distance by one kilometre each day.

My base fitness should be good, given the last six months of fairly steady training, but even on these very short jogs I have been feeling unfit.  My heart rate has been barely going above 120bpm and my quads feel stiff and leaden.  It's probably all mental, but that matters too.

Potato chips were few and far between for the larine residents

I feel like I need to snap out of it, with Bogong to Hotham just a month away, but worry that the weakness in my calf is still there even though I can't feel it.  Today my impatience got the better of me, and though I stuck to the planned 5km run (plus a few kilometres of walking), I stepped up the pace with the goal of getting my heart rate a little higher and my legs moving faster.  I survived unscathed running the last 3km under 5:00/km pace and the last under 4:30/km, without really straining.  Pushing it up the last hill, I did wonder what I would tell myself if the calf tore at that point and whether I should quit while I was ahead, but I ran through to the end safely.

I can't say that the calf problem is behind me, and it probably isn't, but I needed a circuit-breaker to get my confidence up a little.  If there's no follow-up pain on tomorrow's easier 6km, I might try running the whole of the Trotters' 14km "Woody's Wun" on Saturday, but non-competitively.

Two types of runner?

Heading north along the Lake Front Trail towards downtown
Chicago

I sometimes think there are two kinds of runners - those who are happy to train on out-and-back courses and those who will always look for a loop.

When I pulled out of the Central Coast Half Marathon ten days ago with a calf strain, I ended up walking back along the course for an hour with another runner who had also pulled out.  She was from Chicago and I commented that I thought Chicago one of the most boring places to run.  She didn't agree and countered that it had the wonderful trail along Lake Michigan.  This is true and I'm very familiar with the trail from extended business trips to Chicago in years past and more recently visits to Sharon who is working there for a year.  The trail is scenic and extremely well patronised by runners, walkers and cyclists.

Looking south along the Lake Front Trail
[Photo:  Alanscottwalker]

As an occasional run, the Lake Front Trail is fantastic, but to run there every day would drive me nuts.  It obviously didn't bother my new friend, perhaps supporting my casual observation that there is a cohort of runners defined by their willingness to run out-and-back, often on the same route.  I know and have known runners who never give it a second thought.  So long as they are running in a safe and conducive environment, it's fine.

Personally, I avoid running out-and-back like the plague, and know other runners of like mind.  Psychologically, running out-and-back seems harder to me.  If I run a loop course, I feel like I am going somewhere.  Perhaps it is mentally more stimulating, but I doubt that it helps me train harder (though it may make training run more palatable on those days when it's hard to get out).  On the other hand, it could be argued that the runner going out-and-back is toughening themselves mentally whilst doing the same training.  There's no right or wrong.  It's just a distinction that interests me.

With respect to my current training, I have so far stuck to my plan of increasing my running distance by one kilometre per day this week.  Today I managed 4km of walking followed by 3km of running without feeling any pain in my strained right calf, though I already feel like I have lost fitness from two weeks ago.  Hopefully, sticking with the short-term plan will bring back the feeling of fitness without risking the recurrence of the calf injury.

Natural Bridges National Monument

Owachoma Bridge

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

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

Kachina Bridge

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

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

Success?

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

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

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

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

West Yellowstone

I have made several trips to the US this year and taken the opportunity to run in many different and sometimes exotic locations.  Often the runs made while travelling stick in my mind as much as any other aspect of the trips.

The view from the fire-trail south of West Yellowstone.

One from the small town of West Yellowstone, on the edge of the famed Yellowstone National Park (the best in the US in my opinion), tested me to the limit.  I had a long run in my training plan, and needed to do it from the hotel where we were staying to minimise family impact.  The few sealed roads passing through West Yellowstone were busy, given that it was peak tourist season, and often had narrow verges, making them unattractive for running.  I preferred to run on fire-trails or hiking trails anyway, though none of the latter were near West Yellowstone.

I pored over Google Maps via MapMyRun the previous evening to map out a course that would be easy to follow and give me the distance I needed (40+km). A forest road that headed south, parallelling the Montana/Wyoming state border and the western edge of Yellowstone NP, seemed the best option and I carefully examined the satellite images to verify the map information.  There was a saddle and track junction around the 22km mark that looked to be indentifiable and would mark the turnaround if I made it that far.  I tried to memorise other significant junctions, waymarks and the elevation profile since I didn't have any maps.

I set off around 7:00am on a cool and sunny morning, and despite the ideal conditions, was a little apprehensive for a number of reasons.  Firstly, to travel lighter, I wasn't carrying anything apart from my camera, so was planning to survive without fluids.  It was forecast to warm up to near 30⁰C during the day so it was going to be tough if I was out for too long.  Secondly, the run was at an average altitude of more than 2000m, high enough to affect performance, though I had been training at similar altitudes for the previous three weeks.  Thirdly it was bear country.

Looking towards Idaho from the trail.

Conscious of the distance, I started easily and enjoyed the early running along the very quiet gravel road, bordered by thick conifer forest.  If there were any bears in there, I wouldn't be able to see them, and soon I stopped thinking about them, enjoying the solitude.  The waypoints were recognisable, as was the climb up on to the plateau, and my navigational concerns also gradually abated.  After two hours, not having seen a single person or animal, the trail dipped into a grassy valley and began the climb to the saddle and my turn-around.  I was starting to feel tired and warm, and toyed with the idea of turning earlier.  However, I knew that although I would be cursing the extra distance on the way back, I would be glad I had persevered after the run.

I reached the track junction as expected and gratefully turned around, reminding myself that every step now was a step closer to the finish.  Although bordered by the forest, the road was mostly in the sun, which was now beating down.  In another hour, it was becoming a battle and by half-way back my pace had dropped to a plod and I was eagerly checking off the waymarks, which were coming way too slowly.  The last hour was ugly, but I never stopped moving, and finally made it back to town and the hotel shortly before midday.  Apart from two mountain bikers close to town, I didn't see anybody else at all on the trail, and no bears.  Though exhausted and dehydrated, I knew the training run would bring dividends, and happily set off for a day's sightseeing in Yellowstone.

My heel was tender during my run today though not as bad as I feared, and has become less painful during the day.  I will try an easy 22km tomorrow, but cut it short if necessary.

Tempting Fate

Waiting for the start of my comeback race in
March 2015 near St Louis, Missouri.

It has been more than fifteen months since my last blog post and for much of that time I have been unable to run.  The right heel problem referred to in my last post worsened and scans revealed significant damage. I was told that my serious running days were over (not for the first time in the last 30 years!).  The best I could reasonably hope for was to jog 5km a few times a week.

The pain was significant in multiple areas of the heel and I stopped running and started mountain biking as a means of keeping fit.  In March of this year, I resumed jogging, strongly motivated by the opportunity to run, three weeks later, a favourite event in the US for the first time since the mid-1990s. Through experimentation and experience, I have learned to manage the heel in a number of different ways.  Much to my astonishment, I have been able to run, relatively uninterrupted, for the last six months and reached a level of fitness sufficient to resurrect the faint hope of running a good marathon time.

The heel still causes me problems, along with all of the other niggles a 64 year old runner endlessly gets, but I am enjoying my running and still seeing improvement.  I have picked out a marathon in April of next year, six months away, and will now chart my progress towards that race in this blog.  To run a good time, I will have to remain relatively uninjured for the six months, an unlikely prospect.  Just restarting the blog makes me feel like I am tempting fate!

You never can tell

Sunday morning, before my 28km run, was spent helping
at a drink station for Terrigal Trotters Bay to Bay
Running Festival.

When the alarm sounded at 5:00am, unusually for me, I lay in bed for a couple of minutes pondering whether I would get up.  I was tired, it was very cold and dark, and I dreaded putting my right foot on the ground, sure that the heel and Achilles tendon would be painful.  But, my car was booked in early for some repairs and I knew that if I was to get a run in this morning, I needed to get up.

The first runner through in the Half
Marathon was Olympian, Martin Dent.

I lay in bed rationalising.  It was easy to justify giving the run a miss.  Instead, I could go for a walk while the car was serviced.  After all, it was only nine days since I ran a marathon and there was nothing to lose by missing another day's training, especially after labouring through a 28km run on Sunday following the tempo 11km Trotters run on Saturday.  Also, my right heel and Achilles tendon have been particularly painful the last three weeks and would benefit from another day of not running.  It wasn't hard to come up with reasons to roll over for another hour or two of sleep, and the advice I was giving myself was the same as I would have given to another runner in my situation.

The leading runners in the later-starting 12km event
(yellow singlets) catch one of the slower Half Marathon
runners.

But a little voice in my head told me I was being soft.  That if I stopped thinking about it and just did what I needed to do, I would be home, with the run done, before I knew it.  I rolled out of bed, went through my usual exercise routine, did a few small chores and was out the door soon after 5:30am.  It was dark and cold, and in the far distance I could hear the surf pounding on the Copa beach.  My first few steps weren't as hard as I expected, nor was my right heel as sore as anticipated (I had switched to some older Nike Pegasus shoes that I hadn't worn for a while), and my spirits lifted.

I wasn't running very fast, but I was moving OK.  As the kilometres passed, I felt better and better and was actually enjoying the run through the dark suburban streets with just a glimmer of light beginning to brighten the eastern skies.  My heel got a little sorer, but was nowhere near as painful as it had been on the weekend runs.  I finished feeling refreshed and glad that I had run.  It's easy to justify a day off, and maybe it wouldn't have made any difference if I had missed the run, but I have seldom regretted forcing myself out the door.  And I know I will be happier today for having done it.

Trying to freshen up

This morning's run followed Gardiners Creek.

Most of my running focus this week has been on recovery from last weekend.  After struggling through the 40km trail run on the Sunday with some kind of bruised heel, I know I need to get it right if I want to have any hope of running a marathon in ten days time.

Gardiners Creek wetlands.

On Tuesday, I drove down to Melbourne for a family occasion this coming weekend, so used that as an excuse to have a second day off running.  I was hoping that the 11km I ran yesterday would be easier, but my legs were stiff and the heel a little painful, though improving.  Today, I tried a relatively flat 16.5km run in Melbourne's south-eastern suburbs, and though I felt strong enough, my legs were still heavy and my heel a little sore.

My experience in the past has been that if I just train steadily and moderately for a couple of weeks I freshen up and the injuries abate.  With luck, that's what will happen this time as well.  I'll run an easy 5km tomorrow and then do a longer run on Saturday as my last before the marathon......if I run it.

Leg strength and endurance

Reaching John O'Groats at the end of my hike from
Lands End in 2010.

This morning's 11.5km run was a bit of a grind.  Having had two relatively easy days in a row, I was hoping to feel a bit fresher, but my legs remain heavy with fatigue from Monday's long road run.  The slow recovery tells me I still have some way to go to full running fitness.  I'm simplifying, but my experience is that there are really three phases to regaining fitness after an extended period off running.

Camping while hiking the length of the Australian Alps
Walking Track in 2011.

The first phase, which takes me about three weeks these days (one or two weeks when I was younger), is getting to the point where I feel like a runner again.  It requires my joints and ligaments to loosen up, and my muscles to strengthen, sufficient to regain my running posture and balance.  At the end of the phase I can run smoothly again, but have poor stamina and slow recovery.

The second phase, which now takes me a couple of months, depending on how long I had off, sees the gradual return of cardiovascular capability and muscle strength sufficient to run reasonable times and perhaps be competitive, but my leg recovery rate is poor.  I can run hard one day, or up the first hill, but it's hard to back up for the second.  It is a frustrating time because I know the fitness has in large part returned, but I am still missing something.

Crossing a Swiss mountain pass while hiking the Via
Alpina in 2012.

The third phase is full fitness.  I will know when I get there because I'll comfortably back up from a tempo run with Terrigal Trotters on a Saturday morning with a long run on the Sunday.  I will be able to run up an early hill feeling like there's another gear if I need it, and then be almost fully recovered by the next.  There will be days when I feel like I can run forever.  Amongst my club-mates, there are some in this phase.  They run confidently, knowing they are competitive and can deal with whatever terrain and challenges come their way.

Taking a break while hiking the length of the Hume & Hovell
Track in 2013.

The main factor for me in transitioning from the second to third phases, is leg strength and endurance - the ability of my legs to absorb considerable pounding over a long period.  For me, it is achieved through long miles, usually on the road, and that's why I'm persevering with long road runs, even though they are knocking me around.  There have been occasions, on return from long hiking trips, when I've started my comeback with the leg strength/endurance already there and have achieved good competitive fitness much earlier.  That's not the case this time around, and I think it will be another few months and more long runs before I get there, all going well.

Etiquette

I was feeling OK this morning on Brush Road just
before the turn-around.

When it comes to running, and maybe some other things, I'm pretty "old school".  I'm skeptical about the value of "barefoot" running shoes, energy gels, low mileage and lots of other stuff.  Likewise, I have tended to look at runners who hare off at the start of social runs, or run fast down hills rather than hard up hills, as breaking some kind of running etiquette.  Of course, this is quite an arrogant perspective, and there are all sorts of reasons why runners run the way they do.  It is, after all, an individual sport.

The climb up Wycombe Road exposed
my fitness deficit.

The field for this morning's Terrigal Trotters "Keith's Run", was somewhat smaller because of members competing in The North Face trail races today or the Sydney Morning Herald Half Marathon tomorrow.  Before the start, I guessed that the pace might be slower early, and I was right.  These days, the Saturday runs are my only fast running each week, so I took the initiative and pushed the pace along a bit faster, and with a club-mate, soon broke away from the pack.  By the turn-around, we had a few hundred metres on the chasing pack and were running quickly, but I was tiring.  Soon, I let me club-mate go ahead and began concentrating on trying to maintain a good pace to the end.  A tough hill added to my fatigue and I was caught by several other club-mates over the remaining few kilometres.

After the run, several of them commented on how fast I had run this morning, but I knew that I had gone out faster at the start while they socialised, and felt guilty about getting unearned praise.  I got what I wanted, in terms of a hard, and for me, fast run, but I would have been further behind if I had run with them for the first five kilometres.

Thinking the unthinkable

Katandra Reserve this morning.

After dropping my car off for a service in North Gosford this morning, I ran an easy 20km home via a route that maximised trail and minimised suburbia.  It was another beautiful morning for a run - mild and sunny with wisps of fog in some valleys.  Despite residual fatigue from Sunday's 37km road run, my legs are feeling stronger and I spent much of today's run pondering my running objectives for the next six months.

Clyde Road, this morning.

Incredibly, I'm getting to the point where the sub-3 hour marathon goal is again entering the fringes of my thinking.  I can't quite believe I'm even contemplating it, but assuming my heart problem at Christmas was just a blip, resolved by the Cardioversion, then why is a sub-3 less likely this year than last.  I fully accept it's a remote possibility, but it makes no sense to rule it out.  But maybe a change of approach is needed.  Since resuming running eleven weeks ago, I have been remarkably (for me) sensible in my training.  I haven't aggressively ramped up my mileage, I took a few days off for a minor injury, and I have mostly avoided back-to-back quality (fast or long) training days.  Although it has taken a bit longer than in the past, there has been steady improvement in my speed and endurance and that seems set to continue.

View from Clyde Road this morning.

My new thinking is that I should avoid focussing single-mindedly on the sub-3 hour goal.  Last year, I was trying to run as many kilometres a week as my ageing body could handle, and feeling pressure to improve my base speed.  However, when I look at how I'm running at the moment, and what training I was doing when at my best early last year, I was pretty much running for enjoyment, without sweating on kilometres or speed.

Kincumba Mt this morning.

Although a sub-3 hour marathon is not easy, there were times in my life when I could do it comfortably.  Maybe I need to fine-tune my approach to have fewer quality sessions (fast or long) and run those sessions fresher.  Maybe I also need to avoid targeting a particular marathon and, instead, when I think I'm ready, find one.

It seems to be worth trying, though it runs counter to the approach adopted most of my serious running career.  Counter-intuitively, it may require more self discipline for me than the high-mileage run-regardless regime of the past.

No fun

Gosford waterfront is on the Round the Bay course.
(© BigRay)

Nearly three and a half hours of running and can't say I felt good for, or enjoyed, a single step......except for the last one.  That's sometimes the way with long runs.

If I'm honest with myself, it was a bit stupid to try and run the 36.5km Round the Bay course the day after running 14km quite hard with Terrigal Trotters.  I'm not fully fit, and it takes time to recover from hard runs.  It would have been better to try tomorrow and have an easy recovery day today, but I sort of trapped myself by booking my car in for a service on Wednesday.  That matters because the service centre is about 20km from home, and I planned to run home for training (and catch the bus back later to pick the car up).  If I did my really long run tomorrow, then there would be just one recovery day before the 20km run, which is also not really enough for me these days.

The course crosses the Rip Bridge
(© Rob N_!)

Anyway, unpleasant as it was, the long run is done with no apparent ill effects.  The reason it was so hard primarily relates to gait.  Having run hard yesterday, I was dealing with two issues.  Firstly, there was general fatigue and stiffness.  Yesterday, I was running around 4mins/km for some parts, my fastest for months.  I was striding out more and holding my centre of gravity higher and further forward.  That was pushing the envelope of my current fitness, engaging muscles and stretching ligaments more than has happened for some time.  It's not surprising that stiffness and fatigue follows.  But that's good, because as my body responds to these forgotten stresses, by building muscle and increasing the range of movement, I will become a better runner.  In the short-term, however, the fatigue and stiffness impacts my stride length and I run less efficiently.  The consequence of that is a slower pace, discomfort, and even more fatigue than usual.

The course passes along the Tascott waterfront.
(© John Ford)

Secondly, my chronic right Achilles tendon was quite sore after yesterday's run and still painful this morning.  Stretching hurts it more, so subconsciously my gait alters to lessen the pain.  Generally, this means a shorter stride and splaying my feet more.  The latter has, over the years, caused chronic problems with my right knee, so I'm very conscious these days of not splaying the foot too much.  The result is more Achilles pain, a shorter stride, and an inefficient gait.

On the positive side, I'm pretty sure I will start to feel the benefit of today's run by the end of the week.  Three and a half hours of repetitive pounding on hard flat surfaces was hard on the legs, but I know from experience my legs will grow stronger as a consequence.

Fitter...and more anxious

I recently found this old picture of
me running a length of the original
stadium at Olympia in Greece in 1975.

This week, I have really noticed an improvement in my fitness level and the proof was this morning's relatively strong run on the Terrigal Trotters "Pony Club Run" course.  I'm still not running with the leading bunch, but they were within sight for much of the first half of the 14km course and I felt I was moving comfortably at a faster pace for most of the run.

I should be feeling fitter.  I have run most days for the last eleven weeks and have averaged 100 kilometres a week for the past month, so it's nice to know that I'm getting a benefit.  However, with the fitness, and returning competitiveness, comes some anxiety.  Almost certainly, I have recovered full lung function after the Pulmonary Embolism four months ago.  And, my heart continues to beat regularly and strongly following the DC Cardioversion back in February to correct my debilitating Atrial Flutter.  But, constantly in my mind, is the worry that my heart will revert, maybe as a result of running hard.  When writing last night's blog, I mentioned a famous and extremely talented English ultra-distance runner, Cavin Woodward.  In 1975 he set a new world record for 100 Miles of 11hrs 38mins 54secs and en route also became the holder of World Best times for 50miles, 100km and 150km!  When I Googled him, I was saddened to see that he died in 2010 of a heart attack at age 62!  Then this morning, a friend was relating the story of an athlete competing in last weekend's Port Macquarie Ironman not long after he had been treated for a heart problem.  He finished the triathlon but was complaining of chest tightness.  He's only in his mid-30s.

On the hills in this morning's run, I could also feel some tightness in my chest at the base of my sternum.  I have been aware of it over the past month when running hard, but have not discerned any related problems.  Did I always have this tightness, but never paid attention in the past?  Is it breathing- rather than heart-related?  It feels more like an airway constriction.  I guess time will tell.  For the moment, it's a very satisfying feeling to be getting faster and I'm enjoying my running in a way I thought would never be possible again four months ago.

Road running

An early part of today's run was along
Cullens Road which I enjoy so long as
traffic is light.

I'm getting fitter following my heart/lung problems at the end of last year and am continuing to contemplate running the Macleay River Marathon in four weeks time, just to see how I go.  One argument against running is that my legs still need some toughening up if I'm not to disgrace myself.

Although I enjoy running on trail more than road, my experience has been that if you want to race long distances on the road, you need to train over long distances on the road.  It is the hours of repetitive pounding on the road, with every step exactly replicating the preceding step's effect on the musculo-skeletal system, that builds the fitness necessary to cope with a marathon.  After training for long distances on the road, I have always been able to feel the growing strength in my legs, particularly the quadriceps.  Almost suddenly, I will feel stronger, fitter and faster, after a few long road runs.

Ward's Hill is steeper than it looks.

I know I need a couple of long road runs under my belt before tackling a marathon.  For my training today, I ran one of my favourite 21km courses from my home in Copa.  It has some long road stretches, some busy and some quiet, along with a few hills, including one really nasty one around halfway.  I felt good early, maybe the best this year, and was averaging 5 mins/km for the flat sections, but I could feel my legs getting very tired by the time I summited Ward's Hill.  By working harder, I maintained my momentum, but struggled on the last hill with three kilometres to go.

I finished comfortably, but am convinced I need to get in a couple of long road runs in the next two to three weeks if I want to reach an acceptable level of fitness for the marathon.  I haven't entered yet.

Fiji Run

Wambina fire-trail.

The Bureau of Meteorology had warned that this weekend would be the coldest for ten months, and it ominously started to drizzle while my fellow Terrigal Trotters club-mates checked in for this morning's 15km "Fiji Run", named for the palm grove passed through en route.  However, it wasn't that cold and most were wearing T-shirts as we set off at 6am in the red-tinged dawn twilight.

Part of the "Fiji Run" course.

As was the case last weekend, I may have over-committed running-wise, which is par for the course.  Tomorrow there is a Club 33km trail run, and running a tough 15km this morning was likely to make tomorrow even tougher.  Rather than test my limits, I hung back early and resolved to run the whole distance at a comfortable pace, with the goal of finishing with something left in the tank.  Despite my advanced years, I still struggle to contain my youthful enthusiasm and competitive nature, and as the run wore on, I gradually started reeling in some of those ahead of me.

Part of the "Fiji Run" course.

However, about half way, when we hit Wambina Nature Reserve and the steep climb up to the ridge, I was brought to my senses and tried to reach the top of each climb without straining and negotiated the steep technical and slippery descents carefully for fear of injury.  The last few kilometres along the road allowed me to stretch out again and I was pleasantly surprised later to find my Garmin had me averaging about 4:30 per kilometre, which is faster than I thought I was running.  I seemed to pull up OK, but tomorrow will tell the tale.

My club-mates seemed to enjoy the course, which I had cleared and marked two days ago.  It was a bit rough in parts, but the adventure of going somewhere new or rarely-visited appeals to most Trotters.

How much is too much?

Waiting for me the first time on the Bush Bash.

Any rational analysis would suggest running 47km on trails yesterday would be tough for me.  I've only been back running for two months after two months off while I was treated for some heart and lung problems, and on Saturday, I ran our club's 10km race in 44:01, 3:30 faster than on the same course a month ago.  I hoped, rather than expected, that the 10km hadn't taken too much out of me and that by walking the steeper hills I would cope with the 47km Brisbane Water Bush Bash.

One of the smaller hills on the Bush Bash.

A week or so ago, Terrigal Trotters was contacted by the producers of a television program, Search4Hurt, to ask whether we would take one of their rookie ultra trail runners on a 40-50km run to gauge his preparation for The North Face 100km in three weeks time.  I suggested the Bush Bash because it was easily accessible in a number of places to film progress, and enlisted some friends from the club to accompany him.  As a point of pride, I wanted to do the run as well, perhaps hoping that the rookie wouldn't be that fit and I could hang on.

Misty views over Brisbane Water.

The run started with a brief on-camera interview about Terrigal Trotters and then we were off on a drizzly, misty and overcast morning for the first bike path section.  Sadly, my quads were very heavy from Saturday's run and my early pace was slow.  The leaders, including the rookie, disappeared into the distance.  I caught them at the first fire-trail junction, 8km into the run, but only because they were waiting.  Thereafter, I managed to stay in touch with the group, partly because I was moving a little better, and partly because my colleagues occasionally waited a short while for me to catch up.

The course is a real mix of terrain.  There are scenic, but boring and hard-on-the-legs, flat bike path sections, and some short road sections, but most of the course follows fire-trails along the mountain crests surrounding Brisbane Water, including very steep ascents and descents.  The intermittent rain combined with low cloud and mist made for some great scenery and atmospheric forest.  There's nothing quite like the eucalypt forests in rain and some of the views, with forested ridges interleaved with low cloud, were breathtaking.

One of the steep descents on the
Bush Bash.

The company was good, but I gave up on trying to keep up with the bunch after 26km and drifted back to run on my own.  I suddenly felt very fatigued and slowed to a plod, wondering how I was going to manage another 20km.  Fortunately, the rookie, who had found $70 on one of the trails, bought us all a drink at the South Kincumber store (they waited for me again!), and the Coke revived me a little.  I told them not to wait for me any more, and they quickly disappeared on the steep climb up Kincumba Mountain.

One of the bike path sections on the
Bush Bash.

I expected to be on my own for the last 15km, but instead developed a symbiotic relationship with Kirrily, who had not run the course before.  I tried in vain to keep up with her, causing me to run more than I would have otherwise, and she had to keep stopping at junctions, unsure of the way, to wait for me to catch up.  This worked well until the final descent, with just 2km to go, when I started to lose my equilibrium and couldn't do more than walk most of the time, taking great care on the steep descents and stairways not to fall, and cursing the unreliability of my muscles.  There was a background concern in my mind that my problems were heart-related, but it was beating regularly, and my blood pressure seemed OK.  Kirrily was concerned, but I was still thinking clearly and was confident I could finish.  I told her to go on ahead.

Another steep descent on the
Bush Bash.

I finished safely in six hours, about an hour slower than my best, and even managed to jog the last few hundred metres.  The TV guys, who wanted to go home, asked for another short interview with the rookie and me.  I was a little worried I would fall over, and hoped I was making sense.  Towards the end, I noticed Kirrily gesturing towards my feet in the background and looked down to find my shoes seething with multiple leeches looking for a feed.  The cameraman got a last close-up of the predators before I adjourned to a wet park bench and began trying to pick them off.  It took some time, but I was lucky and none drew blood.

The run definitely tested my current fitness limits, but it was satisfying to finish with all body parts, except for my very painful right Achilles tendon, in working order.  It will take me a few days to get over it, and I tossed and turned in bed with aching feet and legs last night, but when I do I will be stronger for the effort.  For today, I just walked an easy 5km.

Leon's Run

Yass Golf Club.

No running yesterday, just the drive back to Copa from the mountains with a stop for nine holes of golf at Yass on a beautiful day on a very pleasant course.  I knew I needed time to recover from Thursday's longish trail run and have found that an easy walk of five kilometres or so (even if punctuated by some terrible golf shots) is a good way to work out some of the stiffness.

It's confronting, in my sixties, to compare how long it takes to get over a long hard run these days compared to thirty years ago.  There was always fatigue and some stiffness the next day, but these days I'm practically immobile when I first get up, walking extra carefully and slowly downstairs and limping to avoid undue stress on damaged joints.  I sometimes wonder if it's a portent of life in my eighties, if I make it that far.

Glimpses of Gosford from atop Kincumba Mountain.

On the other hand, it's gratifying and often surprising to find how much improvement comes with just a day's rest or easy walking.  The thought of running yesterday had no appeal whatsoever, while today I was keen to see whether the improved strength I felt running up hills on Thursday was real or imaginary.  Although still moving gingerly after my 4:30am rising, I had confidence based on experience that once I started running I would loosen up and feel fresher.

Part of the level fire-trail atop
Kincumba Mountain.

Today's Terrigal Trotters run was the popular 14.7km "Leon's Run" from the beach to the top of Kincumba Mountain and return on a mix of road and fire-trail.  I think it's popularity stems not only from the sense of accomplishment in running to the top of the mountain (and the ensuing exhilarating descent), but also from the contrasts it offers en route - starting from the surf-lapped beach, often in the dark, and traversing sleepy suburbia to reach the forests of the mountain in the early light.  It's a serious climb, but then you get to enjoy three kilometres of  relatively level running to the turnaround point and back along the mountain crest during which you get to say hello to your clubmates travelling in the opposite direction.  If you're having a bad day, you get to see how far they are in front and who's catching you, and if you're having a good day, you get to impress those following and see who in front might be caught.

I had a good day today, considering the past four months, despite wondering a couple of times whether I could sense undue pressure in my chest during the harder parts of the ascent.  Each time, I backed off just a little so my breathing didn't become too laboured, but suspect it was just my imagination.  I definitely ran my best since the heart and lung ailments of Christmas, though there remains plenty of room for improvement.  The tank was empty for the last few kilometres.

Minor disappointment

Descending into Erina Valley along Worthing Road.

I'm far from fit, and suspected I would find the Terrigal Trotters run this morning hard.  The 11km course, Fragrant Gardens/Erina Valley, has some significant hills, as do most in this area.  I have felt lethargic and unfit most of this week, for no particular reason, so I ran 1.5km for a warm-up in the futile hope of generating some enthusiasm and form.

Despite the warm-up, I was still near the back of the pack as the 100 or so runners left the Terrigal Surf Club car park, and only started passing a few people when we hit the first significant hill a few kilometres later.  I felt like I was struggling, but still managed to pass a number of clubmates on the climb and picked up some momentum over the crest.  I tried not to think about how strongly I have run the Terrigal Drive hill in the last few years.  It has just the right gradient to permit fast running all the way to the top if you are in shape.

Hastings Road always presents
some challenges.

Just as I was anticipating reeling in a few more people as we descended into the Erina Valley, I rounded a corner and felt a sharp pain in my right hip and shooting pain in my right "glute".  After another 100 metres, with the pain persisting, I decided it was wise to stop and do some stretching to see if I could ease the pain.  It felt like a trapped nerve, but maybe not.

Of course, a number of friends catching me from behind while I stretched and walked expressed concern that I had a recurrence of my lung or heart problems.  I explained that, happily(?), it was just a run-of-the-mill running injury.  I resumed running, with less pain, after a couple of minutes and pretty much jogged the remainder of the course.

It doesn't feel like I have torn anything, but I will take it easy for a few days to let any inflammation settle down.  Sharon and I are spending most of next week in the foothills of the Snowy Mountains, and I have been looking forward to some nice long trail runs on parts of the Hume & Hovell Walking Track I hiked this time last year.

Garbage Runs

Gradual downhill along the Scenic Highway.

In many of my blog posts I have spoken about the "garbage runs" that all runners have as a regular part of their routine.  These are the runs you do between your quality sessions, and are often done just so that you get some daily running in.  They burn calories and keep the cardiovascular system ticking over, but aren't run hard and rarely leave you exhausted.  In my case they are usually 10-12km and have been that way throughout my 45 year running career.  Of course, in my prime there were often two "garbage runs" on "recovery" days, and at least one on "quality" days.

Stretching out along Avoca Drive.

One of my favourite "garbage runs" of the last six or seven years has been the 11km loop I run after supervising the Thursday morning track sessions at The Haven.  This morning, I was pondering why it has become a favourite, especially since at least half is along busy roads.  I think there are several factors.  The first is that it starts up a couple of quite steep hills where, because I'm not warmed up, I don't feel any pressure to run hard.  Instead, I adopt a comfortable pace, running within myself and reach the top warmed up and in good shape.  In the last decade I have noticed that it takes a hill or two to warm me up for any run, so these early hills are well-placed.

The long grind up Tramway.

The course levels out at the top of the hill, the running becomes easier and my pace increases.  After a kilometre or so comes several kilometres of gradual downhill, and by this time, being well warmed up, I generally stretch out to less than 5 min/km pace along the rural road.  It's always satisfying to feel that you're running fast (relatively), even if aided by the gradient, and I reach the bottom of the hill at a good clip.

Starting the final descent back to The Haven.

Then comes two kilometres of mostly straight flat running beside Avoca Lagoon, and I usually find that I can maintain the speed built on the previous section if I concentrate on holding good form and not overdoing it.  At the end of those two kilometres I reach the beach and cross the closed mouth of the lagoon, giving myself permission to ease off the pace on the often soft sand.  After a flat grassy section bordering the northern side of the lagoon comes the climb up Tramway which is always a challenge.  It has steeper and easier sections, but is always climbing and it's a relief to reach the crest.

Almost back to The Haven.

From the crest comes a kilometre or so of mostly downhill running back to The Haven with expansive views north along the coast.  It's easy to pick up the pace again and finish strongly.  Perhaps the most enjoyable part of the run is the slow warm-down walk I take around the perimeter of The Haven reserve, watching the other exercisers, the cars heading off to work in the distance, and the ever-interesting wave-pounded coastline.

The run this morning took 56 minutes which continues the steady improvement in my times over this course since I resumed running seven weeks ago.  Still a long way short of my quickest (51 minutes) but nearing my average (55 minutes).  If I could just lose those extra three kilograms I think I would be there.