Fallings to bits

Today I woke up thinking that I might see how I go with the half-marathon. As before, in the Great North Run, I had some idea that I might see how I go for the first half and then push harder for the final half.



What a mistake!

I am sitting her now with my right ankle turned. Pushing the gas pedal hurt. Underneath my left foot is a blister the size of a 50p. However, I haven't collapsed of heat exhaustion.

Normally, while running, I am affected by my poor cardio letting me down. Either that or my lower legs simply not functioning. These may have had a factor today, but what affected me most what borderline heat exhaustion. The weather was 30 degrees. The water stations were handing out little plastic cups (!) Gradually, after 10k, I felt my head begin to heat up.

It was a peculiar feeling. My vision was initially focussing, and then blurring. My ears were pounding, and felt like cartoon steam was emerging from them. Frankly, if I could have stopped there and then and got to my car, I would have done. I felt that it wasn't a case of working harder; it was a case of not giving myself some sort of permanent heat damage. I am a stocky fellow, and I was beginning to worry that the lithe types around me weren't heating up to the extent that I was.

I slowed to marathon pace. However, like with many races since, my music (rather than inspire me) began to annoy me. It wanted me to run to its rhythm, and to break my running into its own units, rather than mine. A mile or so after I had began to slow down, I pulled out my headphones, and threw them away (albeit keeping my MP3 player!)

I then ignored my watch - it was a terribly difficult race to run, and I feel like I've been through the wars. Do I need a watch to tell me that? And what metaphor the heat? To run to the point of physical burnout wouldn't have been the brightest thing, either.

Right now, though, I wonder how on earth I'm going to get back on track with any training. One things for sure; I was happy with a slower time this year, happy by far!

1 minute 40

Over the past three weeks I have run and worked out for 14-16 days solid, and had 3-4 days off. My right ankle is definitely weak. While it doesn't hurt, I think that's because I've changed my gait (ouch!)

Tomorrow I am running the Humber half-marathon. I had hoped to run a distance run last week, but my lower legs simply wouldn't take it. I feel like the Ledley King of Yorkshire.

Two things this week have made me think about my training. Firstly, I gave an arm wrestle to another teacher on his behest (I know!) for the banter of it. The guy was bigger than me, but I won. It reminded me of my youth, and of generally being a little dynamo. Every day I lift a slight amount (25kg) in three sets of 12. It's easy enough, but it has made a pleasing difference.

Secondly, I aided the facilitation of a careers fair (which, credit to our students, went extremely well.) I was wondering how well half a year group would respond to being supervised in the gym for 30 minutes. I needn't have worried.

In one corner there stood a rowing machine with two men timing it. Every keen to be involved, I gave it a go to encourage the kids.



In my shoes and tie, I pushed a 1:40 500m. Compared to the HiiT I usually do, it was fairly sedate. What was sound, though, was how many students then gave it a go afterwards. And, perhaps, most telling, which students didn't want to. Students who one would normally associate with sporting endeavour didn't want to attempt a time in front of their peers. Others, though, posted average times and killed themselves to do so.

I don't quite know what to think of that. A message in there somewhere.

Anyway, the chap who ran the stall said it was the fastest time they'd had testing the rowing machine. I should be 15 years old again.

More on the marathon later: I think it's my last communal run/race for a good few weeks.

Some sprinting

And so today I've rested from training after having notched up something like two weeks of solid training every day. Fortunately I'm not a complete fool, and managed to ensure that I interspersed the impact of running with cross-training.



My cardio fitness feels at the highest that it has probably ever been. I can hit my heart rate to 170 (or 180) and drop to at least 20 bpm lower in a minute. Further to that, after my high intensity interval training I can now drop my heart rate to less than 120 in two minutes.

What does this mean? It means my body is growing more efficient at doing the kind of exercise through which I am putting it through (phew!) Moreover, I feel happier with having challenged myself each day with some exercise.

The PE teacher at our school (it is a small school!) did some training for me and a fellow teacher on Friday. While I have a lot of admiration for some of my old PE teachers, the chap in our school clearly has more technical knowledge for how to compete in the field events. However, it was the same story as far as my technique is concerned - not relaxed enough. Too tense. Trying too hard. Maybe some yoga or stretching is something that I want to try soon.

Still, I managed to sprint. My times were typical of the times I managed to achieve when I was 13 or so. 12.9 for the 100m (I usually hit between 11.9 and 12.1) and 27 for the 200m (whereas I once managed 24.6, and averaged between 25 and 26.)

As in my youth, my lower legs feel weak. They have no springiness or explosive power. They are not as immensely painful as they have been in the past; they are not strong, though. That is something to build up over the next few years, I think.

Today (and yesterday) my hamstrings have never felt so tight. I could barely walk today, let alone attempt my long run necessary for the half-marathon on Sunday. Still. I trust that tomorrow I will feel much better.

Each of these paragraphs is regular. I am not yet running for PBs, but rather trying to build up my strength without injuring myself. I lack confidence that my lower body can handle an increase in impact training; if I can attempt a longer run tomorrow or Tuesday, I will be very happy indeed. Happier than simply being able to sprint, I think: and that is something that I have not yet said before.

Why bloody bother?

Why bother running? It is painful. It reminds you of your limitations. To get stronger, you have to get weaker. And, like with all things worthy of endeavour, any improvement isn't in a straight line upwards.

Today, I realised that upon waking my right foot and my lower shins absolutely let me down. They feel weak. They complain incessantly. However, after a few minutes of running they quieten. Why is that?

Also, last week I managed to train at least 6 times. Including three days in a row before this 10k. Why would I do that?

I take something spiritual in my running. That is to say, I don't often feel spiritual when I run. But it is something that I feel makes you have to look at yourself. To construct yourself in the sense of when you run, you are putting something into something. Like the way Mumford and Sons drawl, where you invest your love, you invest your life, or something like that at least.

I used to take my running a metaphor for my faith. That is, my thighs never grew tired. What would tire was my lungs or my lower legs, or my feet. And that my thighs was the thing not of me, the God-part of my running machine. The rest of me was human - not only fallible, but actually prone to letting me down. In these barren times that metaphor still holds credence.

I watch the film of the young children tempted to eat a marshmallow in that famous experiment (eat one now, or leave it to eat two in fifteen minutes.) Those who were able to leave it for five minutes had a success far beyond the remits of a nice sweetie. When tracked for decades afterwards, those children able to leave the marshmallow were more successful by many of Western society's standards: they scored higher exam results; they held better jobs; and they had a lower divorce rate (and, by implication, happier marriages?)

I wonder how often in my short life so far that I have been one of those that would eat the Marshmallow.

There is one detail in this experiment, though. Those children who were successful were those who had strategies for avoiding the temptation. They tapped their feet. They walked around the room. Those who didn't suffered a tortuous time; some even rubbed the marshmallow around their face, or licked it, or rested it in their mouths.

Running is nothing if not self-discipline. And, as a teacher, I should be able to predict with startling severity those children who will achieve in life thanks to their self-discipline, and those who will struggle. For me, running is, in itself, something of an empty errand. It is, like the time I was recently applauded for my sponsorshipless marathon, something that can be quite selfish. It is empty, and ready to be filled with the meaning that we choose to give to it.

And so, it remains to be seen what happens to my fitness next week. Very little could happen. Like with last week, I might choose to drive past my house and onto the gym. But the days of sprinting are over... I hope! That is, the days of putting my all into a small timeframe of effort - at the expense of all else - are gone. They are childish. Instead the days of pushing my effort over a longer period of time, with all the rhythms of life, are here.

Castle Howard 10k 2011

I am proud of this run. For a short time now I have been concerned with achieving closer to my PB of 41:50. However, this time is faster than I managed in the two previous races at Castle Howard - I ran 54 three years, then 47 last year, and now 45 this year.



There were a few things to note. I have a busy day ahead of me where I have planned in, by my calendar, the things that I have found difficult to complete on a whim (even with a regulated to-do list.) One of the main ones is to write an essay for my students for an Of Mice and Men controlled assessment. Tired I was in my time of having to put up with a lack of exemplar material; this is something I will change for my students. But with this busy day, I think that this morning (and the large lunch with a chocolate protein shake) will set me up.

I arrived, like last year (although sans a running partner), at the last minute. Misreading the information, I believe it started at 11:30am. Therefore, arriving at 11:05am, I registered at 11:10am. At 11:14am I had my running vest pinned with a number before being called to the line. Fortunately, I had run to the start, so I dispensed with a warm-up.

My first split was 22:43 and my second split was 22:54. My times were consistently fast over the flats, and only slowed slightly on the hills. I was very happy with the fast pace I set myself (considering my fitness, my foot and the like) and felt my cardio training had really kicked in. Mentally I ran with a little more comfort than usual.

Near the finish line, a (male) runner was absolutely killing himself to push for the finish line. In true sprinting fashion, I waited until about 50m before easing myself past him. However, he gargled and pushed past me again. I applauded him as I came in a second or so behind him.

That man was me.

Or, rather, than man was me even last year. I concentrate now on pushing my speed faster for an extended time. I do not slow down near the end to keep a sprint finish. If a sprint finish was necessary for a time I was going for (of which, it has been a long time since I did go for a time in a race) then fair enough. Otherwise, I find the sprint finish a little problematic. If this man was racing me to the end, then what time was he pushing? If I was 'racing' him, would I have put in the effort into my cardio (that I have not done for a fair time) and pushed past him? Would I have valued that final sprint when I perhaps should have expended my energy in a more balanced fashion over the 40 odd minutes before?

My legs are a little stronger. I paid for a (disappointing) massage at the end of the race. It was adequate, but the masseur at Kirkbymoorside actually stretched my legs. To be fair, she was a student, and had a pleasant manner. Like with all students in all things, she had one trained way of doing things, and so did that one way rather well.

I am looking ahead to the staff olympics next week as an excuse to sprint once again. I am also looking to doing some longer runs over the next few weekends (and more) a la my marathon training. My muscles are stronger; I want to strengthen them still. There is still a feeling that if my lower legs could withstand a faster pace from my thighs, then I would be running faster still.

But, in lieu of that, I am happy with my performance over these past two 10k races. The times are not of my absolute best, but I should perhaps consider them to be the fastest 10ks I have done for the those courses. And the next race? Harrogate 10k? Or a marathon/half-marathon abroad?

Running fast

for a nice change I posted 43:50 during the Grand Yorkshire 10k. It was pleasing to see some more of Yorkshire promoting itself, and this was a well-organised, fast (yet scenic) race that I will certainly run again.

I started the day feeling my feet hurt as I gingerly climbed out of bed. Indeed, my lower kneecaps and the underside of my right foot were painful to the point where I felt I should be unable to run at all.

As it was, deep heat was my friend. It didn't ease the pain so much as make me feel athletic thanks to its overpowering smell of dedication and chemicals.

Before the race started I tried an energy gel. It almost certainly doesn't do anything, but it's a good placebo. I think I'll try one 15 minutes before my next 5k.

In terms of running the race, I aimed for 43:30 (7 minute mile pace.) My watch told me I was way off that time, and eventually I simply switched it to a clock. This was much better as I was torn between wanting to finish the race (by the time I hit 45 minutes or so) and wanting to run faster.

I felt that I ran fast most/all of the way, with a strong second half. As it was, my first half was relatively slow (4:30km or so) with the last 3 km moving towards 4 minute kms.) What was also sound was that the people I was running with all speeded up their final km pace too. I may have been taken on the line, as I also overtook someone else, but these things feel silly, as I wasn't even racing them a mile out.

The thing about this run was that my cardio was strong all the way. If I read how I ran in the Harrogate 10k, then I can see that I was in a situation where I was having to run my guts out to achieve a slower time. Instead, now, I find myself in a situation where I am training smarter, and finding my base times and my base fitness.

Whether I will run a 5k or a 10k next week remains to be seen. The Castle Howard is a sound enough run (and maybe the last 10k for a while.) But I will see how my body feels...

A 10k in two days' time...

I mulled for a time over the use of apostrophe in this above title. I also wondered about getting some earlier sleep.

I have managed to make a difference to some of my teaching this week; I have been treating it like a marathon this year. And, like my running, I hope to soon return to some sprinting.

My throat still hurts. I should really be taking more care of myself I think. It is past midnight and I am still writing. My cardio today in the gym was tremendously difficult. I managed only a few minutes of 6 minute mile pace on a treadmill, and only just finished my HiiT session. I intend to do little tomorrow (although I am meant to somehow travel to Hull.)

Most disconcerting, my lower legs still have sporadic aches in them upon impact. I hope some more sleep tonight will work wonders. I remember before the Scarborough 10k I felt physically fine, and indeed springy. Before the Kirbymoorside 10k, I felt terrible. I barely feel better now. Still, I think I am getting stronger in some ways...