Posts Tagged ‘Running’

On Tuesday evening I had my worst training run for weeks. I’ve just got back onto proper training again after pulling my calf muscle, and was really enjoying my runs. Last Saturday was a breeze, 6 miles at a 10m50s pace, and I had loads of energy left in me.

I was supposed to do 4 miles at 10m40s. Which, after Saturday, seemed very achievable. This was not the case, and I only managed 2.8 miles and I had a couple of rests, even then. How could it have all gone so wrong?

Quite simply, I was too keen (or maybe cocky!). The 10 minute warmup jog should be a SLOW jog, I did it 1 minute per mile faster than I had planned – the bloody watch was bleeping and flashing “Slow down”, but I couldn’t. Then, the tempo run part started badly too. I ran the first mile 20 seconds too quickly, now a tempo pace is meant to be pushing your ability so to go off this much too quickly was inviting trouble. At this point I needed a brief walk (45 secs). After that, I nailed the pace, but I was knackered and needed to keep stopping until I gave up.

Hopefully, the next one will be more disciplined and that will be enough to make it doable.Share

Some of you may know that I ran a half-marathon in October. Here, better late than never, is my race report.

I had been training since the beginning of July, with the goal of merely being able to run the 13.1 miles. Also, so that I was targeting my training, I wanted to complete the race in less than 2 hours 30 minutes. At the outset, I struggled running 6 miles, as my first race at Brentwood proved. So just over three months to build up to a half-marathon was quite a challenge.

Those three months turned me from a reluctant runner, only running while I could stay disciplined with my fitness, to a keen runner. A keen runner that is still a beginner.

I had still been struggling with longer distances and stamina, but was a much stronger runner than I was in July, the previous week I had ran another 10k race at Southend, much faster and I finished strongly. So, full of optimism we made our way to Peterborough for the start.

Supporting Alison and I this time was my dad, with his trusty camera, and my cousin Sue from Australia who had been visiting. We knew that the entrant limit was 7000, so I was a little worried about finding a car park with spaces. I shouldn’t have worried, we found a space in the first car park I went to. The weather seemed ideal for a long run – cool, overcast, and slightly miserable with not much threat of rain. Perfect.

We arrived with about 40 minutes to spare before the start, and immediately went in search of the toilets. We found them, along with hundreds of people queueing. There was no prospect that we would get to the front before the race started, and we were just debating options when the tannoy announced that runners should go to the start line. I was getting quite uncomfortable, but after all these months I wasn’t going to allow myself to miss the start, so off we went. I’m glad we missed the hype and circus of the mass warmup though!

It was a bit sad splitting up at the start, dad and Sue went off to the car to dump our coats and bags, and Alison moved nearer to the start line. I hang back quite a way, fully aware of where I fitted. In fact, I was feeling a little out of place, surrounded by thousands of athletic looking runners. So, on my own I waited, and waited, and waited.

This race was by far the largest I had been in, and it was showing. Impossible toilet queues, forming up to start half an hour before the race. I was getting more and more nervous as time crawled on. And I felt more and more out of place.

At last! The start! It was great, I was full of energy and forcing myself to slow down. I had to run 11 minute 20 second miles to hit my self-imposed target, and I was averaging 10m47s until the first water station at around three and a half miles. The atmosphere was fantastic, my pace was keeping me with a bunch of guys and gals dressed in pink tights, wigs and tutus that were collecting money while pushing a chap in a wheelchair. They had loud horns and had a party atmosphere that helped keep me full of energy.

That water station was a relief – not for the water, but for the lone portaloo that had only one person queueing at it. Ahh! A two minute pause, much needed.

The next point of interest was the “motivation mile” around 5 miles in. Loud, motivating music played from a very effective speaker system along the mile, along with some inspirational comments from a presenter pushing us on. I was still maintaining the same pace, and felt I could go all day.

The Course

I was so wrong, and things started to fall apart around mile 9. I started to intersperse my running with some walking, and did that mile in 12m50s – if I could have maintained that pace, I would have still come in ahead of my target, but the running got less and the walking more, and the next three miles were at a consistent 14m00 pace. It was a shame to lose sight of the pink tutus around this time.

I think I would have gone even slower, had I not been rescued. A generous lady saw me struggling about a mile before the end, and stopped to talk. We chatted about running, and I must admit I can’t remember much of the conversation, but we ran and walked together to the finish. The camaraderie and distraction helped me forget my discomfort a bit, and spurred me on to the finish. I discovered her name after reading the race results, so I can say “Thank you, Mim Baczkur”.

The sight of the finish line was even more welcome than the portaloo near the beginning. Everyone was waiting, and I think I managed a strained smile.

Happy?

Going strong

I have a medal now! For a half marathon, and 160 more people followed me over that line. I was impressed by the goodie-bag too – Lucozade Hydroactive, Mars Bar, a banana, the medal, a decent tee-shirt and a bottle of water. It didn’t look impressive in the sponsors carrier bag though!

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As part of my half-marathon training I scheduled a 10 kilometre race – and the nearest one falling at the right time was the Southend 10k.

Despite the fact our family is going through a very sad time with the tragic loss of my mother last week, Alison and I decided to go ahead with the race. Although Mum was concerned about my health, what with being overweight and running, I think she was proud of what I’ve managed to do over the last year. The half-marathon next week will be the culmination of many months of effort and I think she would be cross if I didn’t complete my program. Next week, I’ll be thinking of her every step of the way.

So, back to Sundays race. The day was bright and sunny. As we left the house just before 9am, this didn’t do much for the temperature and it was still quite chilly, especially around the bare legs. Even arriving at Southend, nearer 10am, there was still a bite in the air – which I actually hoped would remain as a bit of a chill help keep your temperature low as you run.

One common theme to races appears to be the obligatory pre-race visit to the toilet. There were over a dozen port-a-loos each with a queue of some twenty or so people in front of them! So, we joined the ritual, but with some creative queue jumping by visiting the toilets at the adjoining park! I was getting quite nervous about the race even though I knew that I would be toward the rear of the pack. I am at a loss as to why the nerves should start up, as I would have only expected the people aiming to win the race to feel that way.

Eventually, it was time to go to the start line. Regions of the road were labelled with the expected finishing times, although these signs were being ignored with obviously slower runners standing in the sub 45 minute area. I decided there was no point being a mobile road block, and moved toward the rear, where I expected to stay!

I had spent a good hour beforehand planning the many potential strategies, before settling on the classic one of setting my goal pace, and trying my damnedest to stick to it. So, I set off at a dogged 10:20 pace, ignoring the fact that at this point it felt like I was plodding gently along. Of course, if I still felt that way an hour later I would have been stunned. Loads of people were passing me, but I stuck to my guns. I knew if I maintained the pace then I would have a good time and that it didn’t matter how many people passed me.

After the first mile or so, the tide was turning. I was passing joggers and walkers and feeling good. The pace was still feeling easy and had identified a number of people running at the same pace, and we were starting to run together. Every now and again, someone I was using as a pacer would speed up and move off, or slow down and fall behind, but there was always someone else I could choose. I think it helped me ignore my GPS watch to do this, and is something I will seriously consider doing again next week.

Another mile and we met the elite runners coming back on the opposite side of the road. I thought that this would have been fairly demoralizing, but it wasn’t. In fact, whenever I saw a Colchester Harriers top, I clapped loudly! I was looking for Alison, hoping she was doing well. We missed each other, as we probably passed in the half-mile section at turnaround where you can’t see the runners coming the other way. By this time the running had settled down, and there wasn’t much passing going on. The marshals were very encouraging, cheering us on. I started to find it tough around here, and the water station was a much anticipated and appreciated landmark.

Another mile or so, and I started passing the first people that were running out of steam, and starting to walk. I felt strong, and thought that the strategy was actually going to work. At this point I had been totally consistent with my pace, only varying by a few seconds. Then the perils of a “out and back” route were starting to tell, and I started recognising landmarks that I knew were quite some distance from the finish, and I was starting to run out of steam myself. I kept seeing the same girl walking, and thought I was hallucinating – same red top, same chunky white music player, and then I realised she would walk at which point I would pass, and a couple of minutes later she would run past, and then I would pass again. This happened quite a few times, so I decided to ease off the pace so as not to start doing the same myself, as it was getting tougher and tougher.

The temperature was starting to rise quite sharply by now, although I wasn’t in a position to tell for sure as by this point I was sweating quite profusely. So much for the cooler air aiding with my run.

I felt I dropped the pace through the floor, but was determined to jog to the finish instead of walking. Analysing by GPS watch later, I was doing quite well by slowing the pace a bit, recovering and speeding up, then slowing, and so on. I only dropped about 20sec/mile off my earlier pace over those last two miles.

By this time, Alison had finished, had some water, found Dad and the finish line and was waiting patiently. Dad was taking pictures of random overweigh, bald men hoping that I was considerably faster than I was and that he was getting the right photos.

As I rounded the last corner, I noticed the finish line and was just considering picking up the pace when I heard Alison yelling “Sprint! Go for it!”. At this point, the brain isn’t working at 100%, so I did what I was told, tearing past some poor woman like a mad thing. I almost paid for it as I crossed the line, as I got quite wobbly on my feet.

The result – 6.21 miles (10km) in 1h4m40s. 8 minutes faster than July’s Brentwood 10k, and on target for my half-marathon next week. Here’s an “after” photo, showing (I hope) that I still looked reasonably fit… You may notice Alison’s top being removed between the before and after photos – that’s another story…

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I have been running again for a year. It was last September that I decided the only way to lose weight was to start running. With my current lifestyle, gyms were not a real option. Most gyms have lock-in contracts to take advantage of people that start with good intentions and then stop going, and then find out that they can’t get out of the contract! I’ve been there, too. But, with my planned emigration and the fact that my contracting may move me around the country, I couldn’t accept a tie in. I needed something that I could do anywhere, and all you need for running is a pair of trainers and somewhere to clean up after all the sweating!

So, one year ago, I popped on the trainers and started a couch to 5k program. So, where am I now?

Well, right now I am shirking my running and sitting typing this. I have decided that I need a week off, I even ran 3 times per week while on holiday in Australia, and recently have found it getting more difficult. A short break may help.

I am in training for my first half-marathon in October, and am running around 20 miles per week now. My pace is still low, but not as low as it was. I can do a mile in around 9 minutes, 3 miles in around 30 minutes and for longer distances I can maintain around 11:30 per mile. My stamina was my major issue at the Brentwood 10k, and that is still my main issue. Although I have built up to about 10 miles, every yard after 6 miles is torture. On the last two long runs, I floundered at around the 7 mile mark. Alison is pacing me this coming weekend to try and get back on target.

Damn! This sounds all very negative! This is what I should be saying….

• I have lost around 40 pounds in weight.
• I have gone from being able to run for 1 minute, to being able to run for 120 minutes.
• I have gone from being able to run for about 100 meters to around 16000 meters.
• I have increased my speed from 14 minute miles to 9:30 miles (over a short distance, compared from a session in November 2008, to a session in August 2009).
• When I get to my last mile of a long run, I’m thinking “You can do it, it is only 1 mile to go!”, whereas a year a go I couldn’t imagine running 1 mile non-stop again.
• I miss running when I can’t do it.

There! Much better!Share

The most important thing I need to say is that I made it! It appears that concerns about my possible demise at the hands of the evil hills, by some, were misplaced. My daughter even took the worlds most unflattering photo of me approaching the finish line, which I hesitate to publish… But, as a warning to any of you who think that going from lard arse to runner is easy, I will let you see it…

The look of imminent collapse is priceless, as is the glowing aura I see to have gained – perhaps it was a precursor to a possible out-of-body experience.

The guy in the green vest, looking as fresh as a daisy, is Pete who decided that a gentle recovery jog would fit his training, so offered to keep me company and to offer support and encouragement. Thanks Pete!

The Brentwood 10k is a nasty, nasty initial race. The first hill was long and steep. Well, as I found out later, it was long. The second hill redefined my concept of steep. I was still struggling from the first beauty, and was already wondering about the remaining distance when this ugly monster loomed around the next bend. It’s a killer. Being “brave”, I suggested to Pete that we run/walk and like an idiot attempted to run up it a little, walked for a bit, and tried again. My legs were rubber, after that it was difficult to just walk. I wanted to lean on Pete, but didn’t want to break him!

After that, I started jogging again, but I was done in. Quite a few spells of walking came in over the remaining mile and I missed my goal of 68 minutes by 4 minutes – I think if the second hill wasn’t there I would have made it. Here’s my GPS plotShare

The unbelievable is happening. Tomorrow, I am taking part in a running race. I’m not sure I believe myself.

For a first race, this one looks like it could be a bit of a bastard. There is a distinctly nasty looking hill around about half way round. As if this wasn’t intimidating enough, there is another smaller (but steeper) hill toward the finish, just to finish off the unwary. This approximate map gives the idea – the graph at the bottom shows at 3 miles and 5 miles these nice steep inclines. I calculate them as being around 1:10 or 1:12. Evil, and nasty.

Over recent years it has tended to be a more serious race with mostly club runners. Probably, rank amateurs like me take one look at the hills and decide not to partake. Ha. Looking at last years finishers, I am likely to be in the last half dozen. Oh well, it is an important part of my training for the Great Eastern Run.Share

I promised an update at least once per week, no matter how little I had to say. There are lots of small things going on at the moment, but nothing of “enough significance” to write about. The highlights of the last couple of weeks are:-

• Getting a puncture almost half way round a 6 mile bike ride with Alison and James, and having to walk the bike most of the way home (before being rescued by Alison in the car).
• Deciding to start to harden my soles my walking around barefoot for a mile or so on tarmac, concrete and various bits of gravel, and getting really sore feet.
• Another bout of joggers nipple after my 10k training run on Saturday.
• Pissing myself off after finding my training logs on runningahead.com from 2 years ago, and realising that I was still quite a bit fitter than I am now (nearly 1 min/mile quicker and 2 stone lighter).
• Started a blog entry showing my running progress, and realising that I have started to plateau over the last couple of weeks.
• Lost another 5lb in weight, but still looking forward to another 25lb to lose.
• People at work have started commenting on the weight loss.
• Australia immigration is crawling along at a frustratingly slow pace.
• The latest batch of documentation to Australia has been sent.

The highlight is that I am preparing for my first ever race, running 10k at Brentwood on Sunday! Of course, checking last years results, I am likely to be in the last half dozen finishers – lol.Share

I started trying to run again in September last year, it was absolutely insane. I was very overweight at the time. Well, not overweight, not even obese, but obese category 2! I really needed to do something, and in a fit of madness chose running.

“Running” was a very loose description of what I was doing. I started by doing a walk/run program. Walking for a couple of minutes and plodding along for a minute. Surprisingly, it was fucking hard work. After doing this for 20 minutes I would be leaning against a lamp post desperately trying to suck in a lungful of air. If my ticker was ready to give up the ghost, that would have been it. I found the program on Runner World – it seemed so easy. It wasn’t. Perhaps, they should have an even easier page titled “Going for Goals for Lard Arses” for people that are at least 5 stones overweight.

After about 6 weeks I was on Week 4 of the program and still every run was a form of medieval torture. At this point a colleague from work decided to join me. He’s considerably younger, and I was very worried that I would be lumbering on behind. In fact, we were well matched, and he’s been a great running buddy.

We completed the program by the beginning of December. Every run was still extremely difficult, and for the next couple of months the improvements were more in how I felt at the end of the run, and not at all in speed or distance. The harsh weather stopped play for a while. Stupid, stupid decision. We should have run in the snow and broken a leg, because of course it became an ongoing excuse not to run. For weeks. (Well, months).

April saw us starting again, knocked back, and pissed off that the hard work had been eroded. Within a few weeks we were back “on form”. Plodding away at the same old pace. The really odd thing is, we seemed stuck in a rut. It was easier and easier to run the distance, but our pace was stuck. I mean, 13 minutes per mile isn’t anything to crow about – it’s a slow jog.

Around the end of April we switched tack – no more increasing the distance and seeing the same old pace mile after dead mile. Now it was short runs, 2 miles. And, the first mile as quick as we could manage. Soon, this was showing benefit.

On Tuesday we did a two mile run in 20 minutes – hey, some people call that “running”, not “jogging”! Result.

Today, we ran a new route, not sure of the distance, and chose to run at talking pace. A new idea for us, running no faster than a pace at which you can carry on a conversation. Previously, if we’d tried that it would have degraded into a walk. I am stunned. Not only did we manage it, but we did it at a pace of 10:40 per mile.

Today saw us agreeing to do a half marathon in October. Bring it on…Share