When to run again?

My walking route this morning took me through the
Avoca Beach Markets.

When I went to bed last night I had decided that today's exercise would include some light jogging.  It's not so much that I'm desperate for an endorphin high, or even the satisfying fatigue that follows a run.  It's more that I was very fit four weeks ago and I can feel that condition ebbing.  I know these feelings are familiar to all injured runners, but this time around I'm conscious that a miscalculation on when to start running again could feasibly have fatal consequences rather than just a setback in recovery time.

Avoca Beach Markets.

So, this morning, while enjoying my cup of decaffeinated coffee, I surfed the Web and pondered the most rational approach to a return to running.  I don't want to take stupid risks, but I don't want to be too timid either.  Finally, I decided to just walk 10km today and use the time to work out a rational strategy.  I do my best thinking while walking.

The first conclusion I reached was that the Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) diagnosed seventeen days ago was still at significant risk of throwing off small clots that could impact my lungs and heart.  Many sites on the Web indicated a minimum of four weeks and usually six weeks for DVT's to resolve themselves.  I should probably wait another three weeks and possibly an "all clear" from another ultrasound exam of the lower right leg before resuming jogging.

Avoca Beach Markets.

The second conclusion I reached was that my exercise, whether walking or running (when the time comes), should be at a pace which does not push my heart/lungs into what I'm calling the "Amber Zone".  Twice during today's 10km walk, near the top of steep and longish hills, I could feel myself beginning to struggle for breath and an unpleasant sort of pressure (not pain) building in the base of my chest as my heart began to race.  It was as though the clutch was slipping and no drive was being transferred from the engine to the wheels.  This was the same feeling I had when running faster up hills just before being diagnosed with Pulmonary Embolism (PE), so I'm becoming familiar with it.  I didn't have to stop walking for the sensation to abate today, but did need to slow right down to a dawdle.  I would define the "Red Zone" as being the need to stop and sit down, and I have not reached that point yet, nor do I want to.

Avoca Beach Markets.

Like most chronic injuries, I feel like I'm starting to get a handle on how to manage it, but know it is not wise to look for the "edge of the envelope" as has been my inclination in the past.  I also know that, even after the DVT has resolved itself and the clots in the lungs are no longer an issue (which could take months), I will still likely need some sort of medical procedure to address the Atrial Flutter problem before I can start running hard again.  Patience!

[I have posted my Post-DVT Training Diary here, or it is accessible from the Links menu at right.]

Streaks

Ron Hill representing Great Britain against
the USA over 6 miles in 1963 (he won, note
the bare feet)

After two days of relatively hard training on the comeback trail (meaning my body is less able to absorb the training load), I found it hard to drag myself out for a run this morning, even though only a short easy run was planned.  What saved me from a missed day was "routine", and the promise to myself that I will not miss a day unnecessarily.

I think the value of routine is often underestimated, and sometimes "pooh-poohed" as reflecting inflexibility or a lack of imagination.  In my case, almost invariably, I dress for a run when I get up in the morning and know that breakfast will not happen until the run is done.  Just being ready to go, can help me get out of the door in the morning.

I also have an expectation of myself that I will spend some time training every day.  If you give yourself permission to miss a day when you don't feel like it, or you go to bed not really knowing what training you are going to do the next day, it is too easy to make a snap decision not to bother.

Ron Hill, still running every day, 48 years later
(courtesy The Independent, www.independent.co.uk)

Once you build up a record of sticking to your planned daily exercise, you are less likely to capriciously miss a day. 

Many years ago, apart from when seriously injured, I would not miss a day, but I never had the total dedication of one of my early running heroes, Ron Hill, who has run at least a mile every day since December 1964.  He's even done his mile on crutches after surgery.  Of course, he is an extreme example, but for a long time he was one of the best distance runners in the world and I'm sure his single-minded training regime was one of the reasons.

These days, I will only miss a day's training in exceptional circumstances, though the definition of "exceptional" is not as strict as thirty years ago.  I have also modified my definition of training to include walking when it seems more sensible than running.  In days gone by, walking didn't cut it, and the time spent running had to exceed the time spent getting prepared to run and showering and dressing afterwards.  In my heyday, that meant at least 8km, but these days it's closer to 5km, sadly.

My Achilles tendon was less sore than yesterday for this morning's 5km, but my arch was still sore.  I felt heavy-legged and stiff, so am not optimistic about tomorrow's Terrigal Trotters 10km Hilly Time Trial.  Another long warm-up will be required.

Lack of patience

I featured on the advertising poster for the
1980 Whyalla Marathon

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

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

The [Euroa] Gazette, 15 April 1980

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

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

Extracts from my 1980 Training Diary

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

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

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

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.

In search of information

Despite not planning to run, or even walk very much, I rose very early and joined the throng building on the Terrigal waterfront at 5:30am for the 6:00am Trotters' run.  It was cold and I was wearing jeans and multiple layers, making it obvious to everybody that I wasn't going to be running.  As usual, there was lots of animated conversation, and people were sympathetic to my plight.  At 6am, the place cleared and I plugged in my earphones and wandered off for a gentle stroll along the waterfront and through the shopping precinct listening to the latest audio version of The Economist (published Friday nights), while the sun gradually coloured the eastern sky and silhouetted the fishing boats heading out to sea.  I really really wanted to go for a run, but there's just enough sensitivity in my right arch to convince me that there still may be a problem and running could potentially set me back.



Comparison of planned and actual marathon training outcomes

Later in the day, as I despaired of my chances of running strongly again within a few months, I devoted some time to analysing how much training I had done compared to plan, and how my marathon preparations had gone in a previous era.

Most of my working life was spent managing and analysing data and information, and I have a passion for numbers.  So, it's not surprising that I have diaries for fifteen of my prime running years in which I planned and analysed my training from many aspects.  One of my base measures was the seven-day running mileage total and I took a look at the twenty weeks leading up to my best marathon time in 1979, and compared it to the twenty weeks leading up to this year's Melbourne Marathon.

Not surprisingly, when in full training, I was averaging more than twice the mileage.  However, perhaps the most valuable information was that in the lead-up to that race in 1979 I lost significant training time to a quadriceps tear and a serious bout of tonsillitis, and had a few very poor race performances along the way.

The lesson for me is not to lose faith in my ability as I encounter obstacles, lose training time, or perform badly.  I have often said that potential is defined by your best performances (and training), not your worst.

Three days lost

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



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

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

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



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

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

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