Looking for positives

View from Barangaroo during today's walk in Sydney

With just 500 metres to go on my first attempt to run since Sunday, my lower right calf suddenly started hurting again.  It was only a short run (6.2km) and had gone well up until that point with no pain at all.  I was just starting to congratulate myself on my injury management and plan the next few weeks training.  Then, in just a few steps, I went from optimism to frustration.

Sydney skyline from Barangaroo during today's walk

My first thoughts were that if I could just have completed the run pain free, then the injury would have another day of repairing, and tomorrow I would have had an even better chance of surviving the same short run.  More frustration.

However, later I could see a few positives from the experience.  Firstly, the injury is real and I had begun to fear it was just a niggle that could have been safely ignored in last Sunday's race.  Secondly, the "reinjury" this morning has only set me back a few days, not weeks.  And thirdly, when it happened this morning, I was near the end of the run and stopped pretty quickly so it's probably not as badly damaged as on Sunday.

Circular Quay during today's walk

The whole episode preyed on my mind all day as I walked around Sydney on a pre-committed day in town, and I think a week of walking followed by a week of short easy runs should be enough to get running seriously again without losing too much fitness.  I could feel the calf a little while walking in Sydney, but it wasn't too bad.  More like a cramp than a tear.

Perspective

Looking towards Wamberal on my evening walk

Sustaining a running injury is a "first world problem" unless you are a professional athlete.  I'm not minimising the impact an injury can have on someone who is dedicated to, or maybe obsessed with, running, but it all needs to be kept in perspective.

Terrigal this evening

That's what I have been trying to do since straining my right calf during last Sunday's race.  I had built up the importance of the race in my mind and really was upset at not realising my expectations.  It's a missed opportunity that may not be repeated, but it's not life-threatening, or even lifestyle threatening, and definitely not unique.  It's not hard to make a list of running friends who have had bigger dreams smashed in just the last year.  Nevertheless, it's hard to stop thinking depressingly about the race outcome, and I guess the hurt will last a while longer.

On the positive side, I'm now referring to my injury as a calf strain rather than a calf tear.  After being painful when walking on Sunday and yesterday, the pain is barely perceptible today, and I went for a gentle walk this evening.  I'm trying to avoid undue optimism, or resume running too soon, but if I manage walking without pain tomorrow and Thursday I'll try a short jog on Friday.  I would really like to do the Trotters Run on Saturday morning, because it's one I mapped and carries my name (Dave's Damn Run), but common sense tells me it would be a mistake to run with others so soon.

Tantalising failure

Feeling good at 5km
[Photo courtesy of Jenny Barker]

As I went through the 8km mark, gradually closing on a bunch of runners in front of me in today's Central Coast Half Marathon, I told myself that I just had to keep going like this for another 50+ minutes and I would have a good run.  I had avoided looking at my watch so didn't know what my pace was, but club-mate Melissa was one of those I was catching and I was pretty sure she was going to run in the low 90s (final time 92:26).

Then, on a minor corner on the winding bike path, I felt a little twinge in my lower right calf.  Twinges come and go all of the time at my age, so I concentrated on maintaining my form and hoped it would go away as most others do.  Five hundred metres later it was still there, and although I had easily maintained my pace, I was starting to worry that it might be more than a twinge.  It was now moderately painful on every step.  I ran another couple of hundred metres trying to favour the calf a little and loosen it up.  That didn't work, and I knew I had to make a decision.  I could keep running and it might yet go away - maybe just a minor cramp.  But it could also get worse and if I pushed on it might become a serious injury, taking a month or two to heal.

With great frustration, I decided the risks of continuing were too great, and the rewards too small, and stopped at about the 9km mark.  Then, I had a long walk back, sharing my misery with a girl who had also dropped out, until we were lucky enough to get a lift to the finish with club-mate Jenny who had been out taking photographs.

I'm disappointed and depressed.  Disappointed that I didn't capitalise on my fitness and see what I could run for a half marathon at present.  I can speculate, but that's not reality.  Depressed because I now fear the injury will significantly hamper my preparation for the Bogong to Hotham 64km in early January.

Eight hours later, the calf is sore walking around, though not acutely painful.  I hope my DNF has indeed saved me from a worse injury.  Nevertheless, history tells me that regardless of what therapy I employ it's going to be something like three weeks before it is whole again.  I know I've had a good run for six months and was overdue for a running injury, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Does it matter

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

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

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

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

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

Strava

The Wycombe Road Hill

I felt very guilty running just 7km with the boys this morning after a 3km warm-up.  The traditional run includes an effort up one significant hill, which is logged on Strava, along with efforts up a few smaller ones.  I didn't feel that fresh warming up, but my legs didn't feel as tired as recently.  It was more a lack of flexibility and looseness that hampered my running, but I did feel stronger and neared my best time for the last few months for the climb up the Wycombe Road hill, though I have never run up it as hard as I can.

I'm only a recent convert to Strava, and really haven't got into it as much as I could.  I think there are a number of other well-known local hills I could identify as segments.  It is a bit addictive checking your own times as well as those of other Strava users on the segments, and does encourage you to try a bit harder than otherwise.

The run this morning finished with a couple of kilometres on the flat Terrigal Drive and I loped along at under 4:20/km reasonably comfortably, which was encouraging.  Hopefully, with another four days of easy training I will have loosened up some more.

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.

Wake up call?

I skipped the run back along Wamberal Beach to Terrigal
and ran on the road instead

Yesterday's easy 6km jog was anything but easy.  It was humid, which didn't help, but I felt lethargic from the outset and my legs just didn't want to run.

Today's Saturday Trotters' run was Enzo's Edventure, a particularly challenging 15km to which my fatigued legs were not looking forward.  I told myself that once the adrenalin and competitive juices started pumping I would find that I wasn't as tired as I thought.  I ran 3km to warm up but still didn't feel very inspired and then when we set out on our "Edventure" I struggled up the early steep hills, further back in the field than I have become accustomed to recently. Reminding myself that I'm supposed to be tapering, and hoping that I would find it easier as I warmed up, I tried not to worry and just settle into a comfortable pace.

As the run wore on, I did start catching people, including some of the early front-runners, but never felt comfortable.  My legs feel strong, but tired, and I'm not moving freely.  I also felt some twinges in my hamstrings on some of the steeper descents, possibly sciatic, and there's an unwelcome stiffness in my lower back.  I wimped out on the last section along the beach from Wamberal and ran the road alternative, telling myself that cambered soft sand was unwise when my bad right knee was also hurting, but I was probably just looking for an excuse not to make the run any harder than it already was.  My time of 1:15:00 for just under 15km wasn't as bad as feared, but wasn't achieved easily.

I was going to run 20-25km easy on the road tomorrow, but now think the smarter strategy would be to do a much shorter run, or maybe just a walk.  I will feel guilty about missing a longer run, but it's hard to see how missing it will be detrimental to my fitness for next weekend's Half Marathon.  I definitely need to freshen up.

How important is running

Keith (in green hoops) just ahead of me in a 3000m race in
Hamilton, NZ, in January 1979.

I have a long-time friend, Keith, who was a talented runner in his prime and with whom I have run many miles over the past forty years.  He has struggled with a knee problem over the last decade that has severely limited his ability to run, and despite doing some swimming and cycling for fitness, is desperate to get back to running.  Like me, running has played such a large part in his life and self-perception, that its absence really is depressing.

Keith has tried arthroscopy and various other treatments, and can walk without significant problems, but misses his running so much that he has booked in for a partial knee replacement next week.  If you Google "running with a partial knee replacement", you can find instances of runners doing so successfully.  You can also find a study that suggests no difference in knee replacement failure rates after seven years between two groups, one of whom exercised more vigorously than advised by their surgeons.  However, I couldn't find any website where doctors recommended running, especially long-distance running, after a partial or total knee replacement.

Partial and total knee replacement diagram
[Source:  Wikipedia]

I'm concerned for the welfare of my friend.  Although I understand completely what is driving him to have this surgery, I fear that his post-op resumption of running will risk failure of the joint replacement and maybe even leave him worse off than at present.  However, I also know that I don't know what I would do in the same situation.  Given that I hope to keep running for many years to come and already have one knee with problems, I suspect I will find out at some point.  In the meantime, I have my fingers crossed for a successful surgical outcome for Keith, and do hope he can realise his ambition to resume running.

Overtrained?

My run today took me along this stretch
of the Central Coast Highway

Peaking for an event can be as much a mental challenge as a physical challenge and the mental challenge has two dimensions.

The first is going into a race with confidence that you are in good shape.  This means an absence of injuries, a feeling of freshness, and the knowledge that your preparation has been good.

The second mental challenge can be tapering sufficiently, something I find difficult.  I don't think I can recall, in fifty years of racing, ever feeling during post-race analysis that I had tapered too much.  On the other hand, there have been plenty of times I have wondered whether I was over-trained or not sufficiently rested, when disappointed with a result.

Like many regular runners, I feel guilty when I cut back my training and worry that I will lose condition and put on weight.  My rational self tells me that I could probably not train at all for two weeks before a race and still do well, but I don't think I could cope mentally with such a strategy.  However, I do know that I need to ease up more than I do.

With eleven days to go to the Central Coast Half Marathon, I'm tired and over-trained.  I ran 16km this morning and although my legs felt strong, they also felt very tired, particularly on the climbs.  My pace was OK, but I need to work to retain that feeling of strength and lose that fatigue.  I tell runners I mentor that two weeks out from a marathon they should run 75% of the usual distance with 75% of the usual intensity, and for the last week, 50% of distance and intensity.  I met the distance goal today, but not the intensity goal.  I need to me more disciplined.

Grand Canyon...again

Early morning light as the descent begins

When travelling in the US in June of this year, I had yet another opportunity to run to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and return - my third time.  I feel very lucky, as an Australian living on the other side of the world, to have had so many chances to run in such a spectacular environment.

Reaching the Colorado River

The two previous times, I have visited the Canyon in the depths of winter and have had to deal with snow and ice at the higher elevations, but this time I was there in the early summer and had to deal with high temperatures.  (I heard later that a Japanese tourist had died from heat exhaustion on the same trail the previous day.)

Encountering a mule train on the ascent

Knowing it was going to be hot, I left just before dawn to jog the 3km to the Bright Angel Trailhead, and began my descent in the early light.  It's hard to describe how spectacular the scenery is.  There are overlapping canyon walls receding into the far distance, all becoming more luminescent as the sun rises.  Far below, the Colorado River runs out of sight in the seemingly bottomless canyon.  Of course, you can't run looking at the scenery because one misstep could send you over one of the sheer drops ever present to one side or the other as the trail switch-backs down into the abyss.  Instead, I stopped briefly and frequently to take it all in.

Halfway up the South Kaibab Trail

It wasn't cool, and by the time I reached the river 16km and just over two hours into the run, it was starting to get warm.  A few kilometres later after crossing the river on a high suspension bridge, I refilled my Camelbak with water at the small "ranch" there catering for campers and overnight lodgers, recrossed the river on another bridge and began what I knew would be a tough climb up the South Kaibab Trail.  I was hoping to run as much as possible, but as it got warmer I found it harder and my pace slowed.  There was very little running going on by the time I got to the top in hot conditions and the flattish 3km along the rim back to our motel room was a real grind.  My time was 5:50, a little faster than the last time I ran, but a lot slower than the first.

A spectator at the top of the climb

One day, I hope to run from "rim to rim" which will take some organisation, since the road distance between the two is 340km, though I did notice that there is a daily bus between the two in summer.....hmmmm!

I joined my regular Tuesday morning Trotters friends for their usual hilly course this morning.  I warmed up first with a few kilometres and felt very lethargic, but gradually got going.  I ran alright, but could feel my legs tying up on the hill climbs with fatigue from Sunday.  Otherwise, no apparent harm done by Sunday's run.

Hornsby to Brooklyn

My trail running club-mates on their way to Hornsby

The trail run from Hornsby to Brooklyn that I scouted two weeks ago for Terrigal Trotters was on yesterday morning.  As we travelled by train to the start at Hornsby, having car-pooled to Brooklyn, I wasn't feeling that fresh and wondered about the wisdom of my third 42km tough trail run in fifteen days.  On the plus side, I had already determined that I would be tapering, and hopefully freshening up, over the next two weeks before having a crack at the Central Coast Half Marathon.  On the negative side, I had a number of niggles - lower back, quads, right heel - that could all turn into something more serious when I was running tired and long.

The first creek crossing proved a challenge

If I didn't feel an obligation to participate in an event I had organised, maybe I wouldn't have run, but the camaraderie on the train revived my spirits.  It had rained all night and most of the previous day, and more rain was forecast, but miraculously it had stopped as we set out on the run north along The Great North Walk.  Only a few kilometres into the run we encountered a flooded creek which took time and care to cross and we wondered what other challenges we would meet but the rest of the run turned out fairly routine.  Somehow, I ended up running on my own pretty much the whole way, with a faster group of five ahead of me and a slower group of four some way behind.  It was probably for the best, since I would have run harder as part of the leading group and perhaps risked injury.  Running on my own, I did things at my own comfortable pace, though still became very tired over the last third of the course.  The climbs were relentless, often involving huge step-ups, and the descents never allowed you to relax.  The more tired I became the more reluctant I was to trust my leg muscles on the very technical trails.

I finished, tired and sore, particularly my suspect right heel, in 7:45.  This was a disappointingly slow time, but still 1:40 faster than two weeks ago.  The real test of any damage came today when I walked an easy 5km.  My heel was stiff and painful, but I think it will come good by tomorrow, and my legs and back are aching.  However, nothing seems bad enough to change my training plan which now involves a steady taper to the half marathon in two weeks.

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.

Nagging concern

Those were the days!  On my way to a Personal Best 14:26
5,000m in the 1977 Victorian Interclub A Grade Final

I ran a little harder this morning on my 10km to see whether my legs had loosened up at all.  The pace was faster, and though moving more freely than yesterday, I don't feel ready to run hard over a short distance as will be required in Saturday's club relay.  There's 48 hours to go, and with just light training planned, that may be enough to loosen up.

Getting a massage was suggested by a friend, but it doesn't seem sensible to try something new at this juncture.  I think I'm too "old school" anyway, and have a bias towards letting my body sort itself out.  I did resolve while running, however, to find out if there was anybody willing to take my place in the relay and am pursuing that option.

I also decided that if I am going to run, then I will warm up for at least 10km beforehand, including the planned run-throughs, and also that I won't try to run faster than a comfortable pace, particularly in the first kilometre.  After all, the event is just a bit of fun and there's not a lot riding on the result.

Risk mitigation

Runners wait at the first change-over in last year's club relay

I have committed to run one or two legs in an intra-club relay this coming Saturday morning.  The format matches teams of two, with teams picked by the organiser to ensure as close a finish as possible.  The race is over a 10km course and each member runs either one 5km leg, or the 2km and 3km leg on either side of the 5km leg.

My allocated partner and I are still discussing who will run which legs, but regardless, I will be running a lot faster than I have in recent times and that carries the risk of injury.  In my experience, most runners, including myself, don't want to let their relay teams down and give their all.  I'm afraid that if I still have fatigue and stiffness from last Sunday's hilly trail marathon, running as fast as I can will tear something.  Probably, if I was smart, I wouldn't have put my name down to participate.  But it is a club event, I enjoy relays, and I was unable to run last year because of injury.

Action at the second change-over last year

So my focus this week has been on mitigating the risk of an injury occurring.  On the plus side, three days after the marathon I can't identify any new injuries and my troublesome right heel seems to be functioning OK without serious pain.  The muscles which really took a buffeting on the steep hills - quads on the downs, and glutes on the ups - feel strong enough, but are stiff and lack flexibility.  I ran nearly 17km this morning at a fairly slow pace and wasn't moving well, though better by the finish.  The story was the same yesterday.  I'm trusting that flexibility will return if I keep training without forcing the pace, but I am running out of time with only two days to go.

The other precaution I will need to take is a long warm-up before the relay, including some fast run-throughs.  I will also try to persuade my relay partner to take the two shorter legs and leave the 5km to me, so I'm not required to run quite so fast.  However, to be fair, he may have his own reasons for also wanting the longer leg, so I need to be ready for either outcome.