A road rage story

No training today, just an easy 4-5km walk favouring my right arch.  So long as I walk on the outside of the foot, there is not significant pain.  The sore right arch does feel a bit better, so the plan not to run, but walk, for the rest of the week still seems viable.

Since there's not much running to discuss today, I thought I would relate another anecdote from my long running career.  It relates to road rage, and if there's any moral to the tale, it's probably to avoid it if possible.

Back in the 70s, I sometimes did my long runs with a friend from the running club I will call Harry.  I can't remember what Harry's best marathon time was, but I think it was around 2:40.  He was small and stocky, and not really built for running, but he trained hard and was quite obsessive about sport, running in particular.



Bridge Road, Richmond, these days.  Not much
changed in 40 years.

We both worked around the Melbourne CBD and commuted by running to and from our offices.  Occasionally, after work, we met up for a run of about 32km, finishing at my house.  I would then drive Harry home.  One twilight, we were about 25km into our run, travelling on the left-hand footpath of a main road, when a car travelling in the same direction turned left into a minor street right in front of us, causing us to pull up sharply.  Road law said that, when turning left or right, a driver had to give way to pedestrians.  I tended to get annoyed when drivers cut me off in this fashion and had adopted the custom, learned from another running friend, of giving the offending vehicle's boot (trunk) a bang with my palm as it passed in front of me.  This didn't cause any damage, but sounded very loud inside the vehicle.

That's what I did on this occasion, before Harry and I continued on.  However, the unhappy driver made a U-turn and followed us for the next 5km, stopping periodically to remonstrate with us.  He didn't try to physically stop or harm us, and each time we encountered him we just gave him a wide berth and continued on.  Harry was enormously impressed with the impact of my action on the driver, and filed the technique away for future use.

About a year later, he was running home along Bridge Road through the Richmond shopping strip when a tradesman's vehicle exiting a narrow side street from the left blocked his path.  Harry banged a panel on the side of the vehicle and began running round its rear.  Unexpectedly, the tradesman quickly jumped out of his vehicle, ran around the front, grabbed hold of Harry, and began roughing him up.

Suddenly, yells were heard from shoppers and the tradesman turned to see his vehicle rolling slowly across busy Bridge Road.  In his haste, he had not applied the hand brake.  He released Harry and raced back to his vehicle but was unable to stop it from mounting the opposite kerb and rolling into the front of a florists shop.

Harry seized his opportunity to escape at speed up Bridge Road and never again ran home via that route.

Highs and lows

Just over a week ago, I rose early with a sense of enthusiasm and anticipation for my Saturday morning Trotters' run, knowing that I had reshaped my hiking body into a running body.  I ran well, felt fit, and publicised to the world my plans for a sub-3 hour Melbourne Marathon in October.

The next day my right arch was a bit sore, for no known reason, and now, eight days later, I had great trouble dragging myself out of bed for my Sunday morning run.  My sleep had been disturbed many times during the night by the sharp pain in my right arch.  I was now struggling to come to terms with the likelihood that my chances of October marathon success were now much reduced and eventually conceded that a Sunday run was a bad idea.



Looking south from Cromarty Hill

I had managed to get through yesterday's hard run despite the sore arch and the emotional part of my brain was telling me that I should stick to my training plan, ignore the pain, and eventually it would go away and I would have lost little time and fitness in my marathon quest.

The rational part of my brain was telling me that the pain would just get worse and worse if I tried to train through it, and the worse it got, the longer it would take to get better.  I knew, deep within myself, that I had to get the arch right, and be sure it was right, before I tried to resume hard training.  My benchmark rehab time for soft tissue injuries is three weeks, but maybe I can get away with losing less fitness if I can do some walking and light jogging during those three weeks.  We went for an easy family walk in the afternoon from Crackneck to Cromarty Hill and the discomfort wasn't too bad, but when I tried to jog for a few steps, there was sharp pain high in the arch.

My general plan will now be to walk about 5km each day this week, jog and walk next week, and jog the week after.  I will only follow this plan if there is no pain at each stage, and only shorten the staged rehab if I'm very confident the arch can handle it.  I have already lost a week through not immediately resting it when the pain first became apparent last weekend.  However, on balance, it was probably worth taking the chance that the injury was not serious.  The goal now is to not compound the error by trying to come back too soon again.  In the back of my mind, I know I need to begin coming to terms with the probability that sub-3 in Melbourne is unlikely.  In the scheme of things, it's not really a big deal.  I did expect that injury would intervene, but right now it's very disappointing.

Handicapped

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



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

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



Backmarkers watch from shelter as the frontmarkers head out

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

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

Tempo runs

As I feared, this morning's easy 5km run, after two days of light running and two days off to rest my sore right arch, was inconclusive.  I didn't feel the minor burning pain after half a kilometre or so, as earlier in the week, but it didn't feel 100% either.  As I warmed up during the run, I moved more freely and felt better.  There remained some minor discomfort in the arch, although it's not as bad as earlier in the week.

Later in the day, I went for a 5km walk with the same result.  No real pain, but a sense of warmth, and maybe inflammation, in the arch.  It's hard to know what's best.  Maybe a slow build up in mileage would make most sense, but I also don't want to waste more training time if it has repaired enough to resume normal training.  Tomorrow is the annual Terrigal Trotters Handicap 10km Time Trial, which provides the chance for a fast run, something I need.

Hard runs at speed form an important, and often shirked, part of a training program.  I find it difficult to do these tempo, or speed endurance, runs solo (though many do).  I have always found it easiest, and most effective, to run fast with a group.  The competitive juices flow and there's peer group pressure to hang in there when the going gets tough.  In the various clubs I have belonged to over the years, in Australia and the UK, there has usually been a weekday evening tempo run of 15 to 20 kilometres.  We all head out at a modest sociable clip, but finish at virtual race pace.  For a few years, my club's (Kew Camberwell) Tuesday 15 kilometre evening run from Olympic Park in Melbourne was a classic.  Below is an edited copy of an article I wrote for the Club's May 1980 Newsletter about the run.

__________________________________________________________

TUESDAY NIGHT TRAINING

The clicking of the turnstiles is answered by the clicking of the wristwatches as the runners file out of "the Park".  The first "hurdle" is encountered almost immediately.  The runners dash twixt rush hour commuter cars across Batman Avenue.  Ken baulks and misses a gap, losing 50 metres immediately (he "hates this ******* course!").  The main pack moves on towards Anderson Street hill with Ken almost catching us before he misses the lights at Alexandra Avenue and loses another 50 metres (he "hates this ******* course!").  The pace picks up as we ascend the hill with Andy making the running and occasionally expectorating on the pack to make sure they kept their distance.  This occasional shower for the following runners usually elicits some good-natured comment from Pratty such as "Do you want a punch in the face, Andy?".  Undeterred, Andy presses on.  Ken catches the bunch.  At the top of the hill, those who are already finding the pace a bit hot announce that they "were only going to do track training tonight, anyway" and continue around The Tan back to the Park where they do something easier like 20 X 300 metres in 45 seconds with 100 metre recoveries.




Some members of the Kew Camberwell distance squad
 at Olympic Park, Melbourne, in 1977.
(l. to r. JB, me, Kev, Dicky, Rod, Ray and Ken)

The pack heads off towards Fawkner Park at an ever-increasing rate with Greg now sitting on Andy's shoulder and Stan covering them both. JB and Pratty, at the back of the pack, chat nostalgically about the good old days when training pace never exceeded six-minute miles.  Ken gets caught again by the traffic at Toorak Road (he "hates this ******* course!").  We skirt the edge of Fawkner Park with everybody making sure everybody else runs around the correct trees.  Greg is really starting to push the pace a bit now. Andy spits on Pratty again - more good-natured banter.  Everybody is psyching themselves up for the next big obstacle: St Kilda Road - four lanes of traffic trams and traffic lights.  You can see Ken sweating in anticipation.  With much whooping and hollering, we dash across.  Brakes squeal, tram drivers curse and we all make it - except for Ken (he "hates this ******* course!") who loses 50 metres.  We cross Queens Road in similar fashion and encounter a new obstacle: Albert Park Golf Course in the pitch darkness.  Those who don't run into trees, fall into bunkers, trip over raised greens or drown in ponds, build up a good lead by the time we reach the Lake.

The Lake is a dangerous place.  Dangerous because Ken makes way for no man, as a number of cyclists on the bike path will testify.  Heading north along the western side through the hockey fields the pace is really on.  Greg and Andy are striding out.  Conversation has dropped to a minimum and the only sounds are heavy breathing (particularly Cashy) and the monotonous click of Stan's ankle.  A few fences are encountered and JB's steeple-chasing skills get him a 20 metre break, though this is quickly made up as he swerves to avoid being clobbered by the backswing of an overzealous hockey player.  We round South Melbourne Cricket Ground and run along Albert Road towards the Shrine.  Moves are coming from everywhere.  Stan makes a break up the service road with Dave in hot pursuit.  Ray, under cover of darkness and trees, moves up on the inside.  Fortunately, Ray's break is halted by a red light (traffic variety) at Queens Road and we all catch up.

A good position is vital now, as we have to negotiate several major roads before the long surge northwards along St Kilda Road.  Ken gets caught again and loses another 50 metres (he "hates this ******* course!").  The race is really on now with Dave, Pratty and Ray pushing to get to the front, and JB and Andy attempting to block.  Andy spits on Pratty again, and receives a good-natured tap on the shoulder that nearly knocks him over.  There are more pedestrians around now and quick thinking is called for.  Cashy nearly runs Dave into a traffic light and is then, in turn, steered into a post by Dave as we round Princes Gate Station.  It's on for young and old.

Dave puts on the pressure along Flinders Street, but is nearly fouled out by a rather stout Italian lady who steps sideways at a critical moment.  Ken is getting scared - a missed traffic light now and he knows he won't recover.  Pratty's crossed the road and piles it on.  Cashy, JB, Ray, Stan and Andy settle back to a leisurely 5:30 pace whilst Dave and Ken chase Pratty.  Ken misses the light (he "hates this ******* course!").  Has Pratty made his move too soon?  Self doubt takes over as Dave comes up to his shoulder and they race up the Lansdowne Street hill.  At the top, Dave eases off, but Pratty doesn't and surges past - the race isn't over yet.....

Inspiration

Another day of no running, though I couldn't resist jogging a few metres on the grass while the Thursday morning track group went through their paces at The Haven.  I couldn't feel any pain, but it was only a few metres.



Some of the Thursday morning track group go through their
paces in the pre-dawn gloom.

I'm not an essential part of either of the track sessions I supervise each week, but I enjoy encouraging the athletes' efforts and am inspired by their commitment and effort.  I get great satisfaction from playing a small role in their development and watching "ordinary people do extraordinary things".  Within Terrigal Trotters and elsewhere, I have seen new runners discover that with regular and sensible training they can accomplish feats they never dreamed possible.  Their self esteem gets a boost, as does their quality of life.  It's easy to see some wish they had discovered the sport earlier while others recapture the joy of running they had experienced earlier in their life, but which had been lost to the pressures of family and work commitments.

Of course, no runner escapes injury if their career lasts long enough, and there's always someone struggling with a new injury or coming back from an injury.  I try to offer relevant advice and some encouragement, but everybody is different and nobody, including doctors, is infallible in diagnosing injuries or prescribing the correct treatment.   Runners have to learn to deal with uncertainty, and often disappointment.

If my planned 5km jog tomorrow morning is pain-free, or near enough, then I hope to return to my marathon training program.  Of course, it may not be that straight forward, but I am an optimist.

Unexpected hazards

I stuck to my decision of yesterday and did not go for a run, or even a walk, today.  The pain in my arch is minimal walking around the house, so I'm hopeful that after another day off tomorrow, the pain will no longer be an issue.

With no training to report on today, I thought I would include a copy of an article I wrote for my Kew Camberwell District AAC's July 1981 newsletter about an incident in a race earlier that year.

______________________________________________________

IT'S NOT ALL BEER AND SKITTLES UP THE FRONT

The gun fired (Fred's whistle blew) for the start of the annual Victorian Marathon Club Tullamarine Half Marathon on 2 May 1981 and the field settled into the traditional bunch to fight the gale-force headwind. The pace was extremely slow, but like half a dozen others, I was more than happy to let a "bigger bloke" bear the brunt of the conditions. The course consists of two equal laps with three-quarters of each lap passing through windswept rural land and the remainder through suburban Tullamarine. Initially you head north into the country and I waited until we turned south out of the wind before making my move to the front. By the time I had covered five miles, I was into the suburbs again with a lead of some two minutes.



On my way to 2nd Place (2:31) in the 1976 Victorian
Marathon Club Marathon Championship.

As I ran along the left-hand side of the broad suburban road (as instructed by Fred) I was contemplating the hazards of starting too fast when another hazard drew itself to my attention. The extremely loud screech of brakes and tyres immediately behind caused me to simultaneously break the Club high and long jump records (not to mention heart rate). I landed in a quivering heap on the grass verge and looked back to see that a bright red panel van complete with wide wheels and chrome trim had stopped about two metres behind where I had been at "lift off". Inside were two lads having a good laugh at a joke I failed to see. We exchanged a few pleasantries, which did little to dissipate my fear-turned-to-fury, and I looked for a more tangible means of expressing my disapproval. My gaze fell on a small stone in the grass and picking it up I took hurried aim (I was now running again) at the open passenger window. Alas! I missed and hit the bright red duco on the door. This was a joke the lads failed to see. The van was quickly in pursuit and pulled into the curb a few metres in front of me. The driver and passenger started to get out but were too late and I was past. The driver's IQ was not as bright as his duco and he tried the same thing again only to miss me by a wide margin. At this point he must have been hit by a flash of inspiration because he drove to a point one hundred metres in front of me this time before stopping.

I unleashed my finishing burst eleven kilometres early and rapidly closed on the rear of the van as the driver struggled for traction on the road attempting to round the front of his vehicle. He was wearing football boots and they were slipping on the bitumen! The passenger was also getting out and I really put my head down. The driver reached the grass verge and accelerated rapidly but not quite quickly enough and I just managed to evade his outstretched hands. My nascent sense of victory was aborted by the sight of another van stopping further up the road. Two large fellows got out, and with arms spread-eagled, blocked the path in front of me. The footballer was still hot on my heels and I had visions of the rest of the field seizing their opportunity to overtake while I was pummelled to a pulp on the footpath. On my left was a metre high school fence. Just as I was about to vault it and head for Mildura, the fellows in front yelled to my pursuers to leave me alone and moved apart to let me through. They then jumped on the footballer and I never looked back. However, I did run on the right-hand side of the road for the remainder of the race (despite Fred's remonstrations) figuring that if the lads wanted to run over me from behind they would at least have to drive on the wrong side of the road to do it.

[Footnote:  I finished 1st in 68:16]

Erring on the side of caution

My training plan had a 22km tempo run scheduled for today, but I had already decided last night to do an easy 10km instead, at the most.  My bothersome right arch seemed better than yesterday, and I set off for my run with some optimism, but like yesterday, after about half a kilometre I felt a slight burning sensation in the arch and then some low level pain on foot strike thereafter.

Running has been a source of many memorable experiences
all over the world.

I decided to switch to my 5km flattish loop through Copa, running slowly and deliberately limping a little to protect the foot.  The pain was still only a 1 - 2 out 10, so not very bad, but I'm worried there's a chance it could become worse if I persist.  Many years ago, when I was a National Serviceman in the Australian Army, I developed a serious arch problem that impacted my running for a year or more.  I blamed it on Army boots, but don't really know what caused it.  The pain I feel now seems faintly familiar, so there is some reason for concern.  On the other hand, I ran 36km on the road two days ago and that didn't make it too much worse, so I'm guessing a minor tear of some sort is the problem.

After completing the run, I spent some time Googling my symptoms, but couldn't positively match them to an injury.  Most arch queries related to running suggested plantar fasciitis, but I don't think that is the problem (hopefully).  I can't really say why, but I sense that if I give it total rest for a couple of days it may repair enough for me to run without pain.  I may be wrong, but I've decided to give it a shot and have two days of minimal activity with no running and then resume running on Friday.  Managing injuries is the most difficult thing most runners face, and as discussed in a previous blog post, it sometimes only takes a few steps to go from "fit" to "out for three weeks", or worse.  And there's no "do overs".

Trying to follow my own advice

My first steps of the day were very tentative as I tested out my sore right arch.  Of course, these days, my first steps are always tentative in the morning, and especially the day after a log run.  I hobble around, descend the stairs sideways and slowly, and wonder how I could hope to run at any speed any time soon.  After my usual exercise routine and a cup of coffee, my outlook and walking tend to improve.  This morning, pain was perceptible in the arch, but it wasn't too bad.



At the 16km mark en route to my PB marathon (2:19:06)
behind Rob De Castella at Point Cook, Victoria, in June 1979

Today was a planned recovery day, but the bigger decision was what training to do for the rest of the week in light of the arch problem.  I did want to run in well two races coming up this weekend, the Terrigal Trotters 10km Time Trial on Saturday, and the Woodford to Glenbrook 25km trail race on Sunday, but also wanted to stick to my training plan.  The "easy" decision would be to train lightly for the next four days, let the arch repair, and  freshen up for the races.  However, in my running prime, I credited my best marathon performances to staying focused on a specific event, adhering to my program, and not succumbing to minor injuries or the temptation to freshen up for intervening races.  I don't like missing races, or performing below par because of a heavy training program, but have always been willing to pay that price in quest of a greater goal.

On the other hand, I know that because of my innate stubbornness, my bigger problem can sometimes be my unwillingness to change my training program in the face of injuries and illness.  I'm trying to be more mature in approach these days and test my running decisions against the standard of the advice I would give someone else in the same situation.  The main game here is to be fit and injury free for the Melbourne Marathon in October.  I would tell another athlete that missing a couple of quality sessions sixteen weeks out from the target race is much less important than getting an injury right.  I would also tell them that it was OK to keep running so long as the injury was not getting worse, but to back off if it was.  I decided to follow my own advice for the rest of the week.



The lagoon about to break out in to the ocean at Copa

It had been raining heavily all night, and the lagoon at the back of our house was as high as I have seen in my nine years here, so I decided that, for today, my training would be a walk down to the sandbar separating the lagoon from the ocean and then a 4km jog/walk around Copa, depending on how sore my right arch felt.  My training plan called for an easy 10km recovery day, so walking and jogging 5km wasn't much of a shortfall for today.  There was some arch pain, but I didn't feel like I was making it worse and, more importantly, it was less painful than after yesterday's run.  I'll plan for an easy 10km tomorrow, but be ready to modify that if necessary.

Round the Bay

When walking around the house before this morning's planned 36.5km run around Brisbane Water, I could feel discomfort, but not pain, in the right arch that was a bit sore after yesterday's run.  I agonised over whether I should change my plans for a long run this morning.  Was it just a niggle, or the start of something worse?  It's not unusual for me to get occasional foot pain, but most times it disappears as mysteriously as it appeared, and I write it off to a pinched nerve or tying shoe laces too tight.



Looking across Brisbane Water on a much better day

Having only just got into the meaty part of my marathon training program, I was very reluctant to start missing planned sessions, so drove to my starting point in nearby Kincumber and set out in light rain and darkness soon after 6am.  Terrigal Trotters has an annual run called "Round the Bay" that follows much of the same course I ran this morning, but it includes some bike path and quieter road sections making it about 0.7km longer.  Not much difference, and you might ask why I would not run the same course.  It comes down to my long-held preference for running on the road where I can (bitumen is "softer" than concrete, and more even) and for just following main roads rather than winding back streets and bike paths.  If I'm on a long road run (they are seldom easy), I just want to get it over and done with.  The simpler the course, the better.  This course has become one of my favourite long runs for training.  It has hills, but not too onerous, and a lot of flattish road running that I think builds strength in the legs and an efficient gait.  I enjoy trail running much more than the roads, but don't think it is as good for building the leg strength necessary to run a good marathon.



The Rip Bridge is run across at the entrance to Brisbane
Water (in the distance)

This morning was not going to be enjoyable.  I wasn't very motivated, exacerbated by anxiety about how my foot would handle the distance.  The early kilometres were along the unlit Empire Bay Drive and I kept a close eye on oncoming vehicles in the misty drizzly gloom as the kookaburras called from the surrounding trees.  I could feel my sore right arch with every step, but only rated the pain as a 1 to 2 out of 10, and didn't feel like I was limping as a result.  As it became lighter, the rain became heavier and I was soon saturated and quite cold.  But my pace was OK, and I was generating enough internal heat to ward off hypothermia, though I did have trouble articulating words when fellow Trotter, Greg, slowed his car while passing to offer encouragement.



Aerial view of part of Brisbane Water

The rain continued for the rest of the run, with varying intensities, as did the pain in my foot.  The gutters were filled with rushing water and I gave up on trying to dodge puddles, some of which were almost ankle deep.  I found Dunlop Hill, the last before Kincumber, quite hard, but was generally happy with how strong I felt for the run.  However, I was concerned about the foot pain which was 3 to 4 out of 10 by the end.  My time for the run was 3:07, a bit slower than I thought I was travelling, but that could be attributed to the wet conditions and some favouring of my right foot in the latter half.

I'm now faced with a decision about whether a rest for my sore arch is necessary.  Walking around after the run has not been as painful as I might have expected, which makes me doubt the seriousness of the injury.  On the other hand, would it hurt my marathon training plan so much if I took it easier for the next three or four days in the hope the pain goes away?  I'll leave it to tomorrow morning to decide.  Tomorrow was supposed to be an easier recovery day anyway.

Risk analysis

After the lower back stiffness and nerve tingling of yesterday, I was quite anxious about how I would go at this week's Saturday morning Trotters' Avoca Amphitheatre run.  This was to be the first serious tempo run in my training program for the Melbourne Marathon and I hadn't tried to run fast, apart from Thursday evening's track session, for two months.  I was very conscious that running fast with the niggles left over from Thursday significantly increased the risk of injury.  However, I'm also very conscious that to get myself to the level of fitness necessary, I need to try and follow my program.  This will involve taking some calculated risks and not taking it easy every time I have a niggle.  The terrible thing about running injuries, especially soft tissue (muscles, ligaments and tendons), is that they can happen very quickly, often in a couple of strides, and there's no going back.  A soft tissue injury at this point will set me back a minimum of six weeks - three weeks for the injury to repair and three weeks to get back to where I am now.  A sobering thought.

Looking back down one of the gentler hills on Trotters'
Avoca Amphitheatre run

My approach is to take commonsense precautions, such as making sure I'm warmed up and starting slowly.  Then, if an injury occurs, I can put it down to bad luck and the risks that must be taken to reach new fitness levels.  I have always found that in running, as in life, you make the best decision you can given the available information and accept the consequences, be they good or bad.  There's no point in looking back and saying "what if?".  If the worst happens, accept it and move on.  If it resulted from a deficiency in your analysis, then learn the lessons and don't repeat the error next time.

Running is definitely a sport where you learn more and more about your own body as you go along.  The hard part is harnessing that knowledge to make smart decisions and avoid emotional choices.  I know that I have always been a lot better at suggesting rational running and injury management plans to others than following them myself.  I was notorious in my running club, back in the eighties, for suggesting to attendees at marathon running clinics we organised, that "consistency and moderation" were the key to success.  My fellow clubmates knew that my own training was anything but "moderate" - 240, and more, kilometres a week.

Anyway, for this morning's run, I found time for a one kilometre warm-up beforehand and then started slowly at the back of the pack as we climbed the challenging Kurrawyba laneway away from Terrigal.  After a couple of kilometres, I felt sufficiently warmed up to begin chasing the leaders, who by now were long gone.  I was moving well and feeling fit as I gradually worked my way through the field, though I lost my momentum a bit on the infamous climb up Coast Road and never did catch Ian or Kev.

It was a satisfying run, and where I want to be at this stage in my preparation.  I did have some sharp pain in my right instep at times and am hoping that it is just a minor issue.  Maybe the way I tied up my shoelaces today?  I will find out tomorrow when I tackle my scheduled long road run.

Other sports

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



Melbourne Herald, 1 February 1973

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

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

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

Where has my speed gone

Thursday, 20 June 2013

I was quite anxious about today's running because I had scheduled my first track training session for a couple of years.  I believe the biggest obstacle to running a sub-3 in October will be my speed, not my stamina, assuming I get there uninjured.  As I have aged, my stride length has shortened and I have lost flexibility and anaerobic capacity.  My plan to overcome this deficiency is to run more shorter races and include a track session a week.  Assuming I can do both of these, my ability to sustain the necessary speed will improve.  The reason for my anxiety today was that, in the last ten years, whenever I have decided to include a track session in my weekly program, I have only lasted a couple of weeks before succumbing to injury.  I'm hoping that by running repetitions of no less than 800 metres, I won't reach the speeds that risk injury, but it will be a fine line.



I used to be faster on the track.  On my way to a PB 14:26
for 5000m at Olympic Park, Melbourne, in March 1977

The day started with supervision of the regular Thursday morning track session at The Haven in Terrigal, and I followed that with an easy 6km run during which I felt quite comfortable, though my right knee and Achilles were a bit painful.

Around 4:30pm, I started my second training session for the day with a 3km warm-up around Adcock Park in Gosford, followed by a few drills on the mediocre grass track.  After marking out my 800m start in lane 3 on the damp track, I began my session of five 800m repeats with a three minute recovery between each.  Ideally, I want to build up to ten repeats averaging between 2:50 and 3:00.  I knew I would find today hard, and I was right.  The kebab I had for lunch at the mall came back to haunt me, just to make matters worse.  The first 800 was in 3:13 and I felt awkward all the way.  My right calf and hamstring felt tight and I could hear my bad knee clicking with every step.  The remaining 800's were all between 3:05 and 3:10.  I tried not to think about how this was slower than 6 minute mile pace (3:45 mins/km), the speed at which I used to run my regular Wednesday night 20 miler (32km) in my heyday.

I finished the session with another easy 3km and decided that the rough damp grass track was not a good surface for an old guy like me to train on.  The soft surface provided little support, leading to more strain on calf muscles and knees.  For next week's session, I will try to find a flat section of quiet road and use Google Maps to identify an exact 800m.  I think I will feel more comfortable on the road.

Small explorations

Wednesday, 19 June 2013

My usual training regime has been a bit messed up this week because I postponed my long run until Monday and helped at the Bay to Bay Fun Run on Sunday.  The pattern I prefer is recovery days on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, with quality sessions on Tuesday and Thursday.  Having missed the quality session yesterday I decided to run a little further and faster today and mapped out a 14km course with three tough climbs.



There was no shortage of public footpaths and country lanes
to run along when we lived in Chorleywood

Motivation was in short supply so I picked a route that let me check out a potential new trail that I had spied on Google Maps running between Avoca Beach and Kincumber.  I love maps and spend a lot of time perusing them and thinking of potential running routes that might be interesting.  In my experience, the best place for finding interesting routes to run is England where the network of historic public footpaths augments the plethora of country lanes.  When we lived in Chorleywood, outside London in the Chiltern Hills, I had a totally different morning run course for each day of the week, each of them scenic delights.  Running every day can be mentally tough, especially when you get older and I'm a great believer in variety.

Anyway, I set out on this morning's 14km at a good pace and was pleased to be able to maintain my momentum the whole way, including up the three significant hills, although I was getting tired by the end, and my right knee was quite painful at times.  With a kilometre to go on an exposed road high above Copa, I was hit by a short and vicious rain squall which blew me all over the road and soaked me through.  It was cold.  During the run, I did detour a little way down the new trail I had identified on the map, but it was quite overgrown and wet.  I decided to leave tackling its full length for another day.

Appropriate dress

Tuesday, 19 June 2013

I had a commitment at 8:30am this morning, so had to choose whether to get up early enough to run my 10km and get to the appointment (30 minutes drive away) on time, or leave it until afterwards.  I set the alarm early, knowing from long experience that I would regret leaving the run until after the appointment, and spent an hour warming up and doing some chores before setting out at 6:30am.

For the past few years, I have usually scheduled a 5km walk for the day after a long run, and that might have been the safer option today, but I have accepted that I need to run a higher mileage and accept some injury risks, if I am to raise my fitness to the level necessary to run a sub-3 marathon in October.

I expected to feel very sluggish and sore as I set out, but actually felt quite good, although my right Achilles tendon was stiff and painful.  I took care not to force it and hoped it would loosen up as I ran.  This was a recovery run, so I made it as easy as possible by crossing the sand bar to McMasters Beach and running out and back along the road.



Not a pretty sight!  Running in Maine, USA, in 2009

It was relatively cold, for the Central Coast, and my fingers would have welcomed some gloves.  However, you get a bit weather-soft living on the Central Coast where it never gets too cold or too hot.  Having lived in other parts of the world subject to extreme running conditions, I always feel a bit soft if I wear more than the regulation shorts and T-shirt for my training runs here.  While living and working in the U.S., I occasionally encountered air temperatures of -25°C with wind chills of -45°C, while at the other end of the scale, I have dealt with the humidity and heat of Singapore and Hong Kong on extended work assignments.  Only once in my memory, have I ever put off a training run because of weather and that was when I arrived in Chicago late one night in winter, on my first business trip there.  As I went through my pre-run exercises listening to the local radio at 5am the next morning, the announcer warned that it was cold enough outside for exposed flesh to freeze in two minutes!  I only had shorts and a long-sleeve top, so abandoned my run.  However, later that day I visited a cheap clothing store and bought track pants, another long sleeve top, and a balaclava, and didn't miss another run on that trip, though did have some weather-related adventures on subsequent trips.

I finished today's run comfortably and hope that my Achilles tendon is a little less painful tomorrow.