Stability Through Motion

Rhayader 20 mile race: 2h40m

That was harder than it should have been. Spent the race trying to recalibrate the garmin footpod, which meant I could see neither the time nor my pace/speed. As a result took it faster than I should have, but not fast enough to count as a race - kind of caught in limbo. Still, it’s a wonderful course through the Elan valley, winding around the reservoirs in this deserted part of the world. Two more long runs now before the big day.

race report time! Last one until April’s marathon.

New toy - playing with the Garmin Forerunner 50 which tracks heart rate and cadence and distance using a footpod thingie, a surprisingly discrete plastic bit that clips onto your shoe laces. Out of the box it was pretty accurate, but I made the mistake of trying to calibrate it by running round a track. Cue my first ever visit to a running track, and there was a football match taking place in the middle! Sheepishly tried a single lap without getting hit by a football or footballer. Now the device is way out, so I think I need to do a bit more than one lap to get it right.

Using the device in conjunction with SportsTrack software though, you can get an incredible amount of info at a glance though.

So, the race: 6:52 average pace = 8.7 mph, 15 miles in 1:42:53. Bang on target for the sub 3:15 marathon attempt - in fact predicts 3:06 but I’m going to be cautious still.

Broadway Tower (above), on top of a bliddy great hill - Fish Hill. You just try running up that, go on, I dare you! 19 miles on the Cotswold Way, absolutely beautiful, but I decided not to wear my orthotics for some reason, and now have blisters on my feet, grrr. Still, 51 miles total last week, so I’m doing well, and can afford a little break.

Despite two pints on Friday night I made it outside at 7.30 for the first of five 20 milers in the next five or six weeks. Decided on the door-to-door country route taking in just the one hill, at Beckley. A grey morning, the earth still wet and the fields all clarty. Saw not a soul until I re-entered Oxford at Shotover. A very slow start because of the terrain, but once I hit the downhill tarmac at Shotover I picked up the pace, trying out the MacMillan technique of running  your last five miles at marathon pace-ish. All felt great this week, and a smug feeling of satisfaction stayed with me all day as I attempted to do some work but kept half an eye on the rugby.

Time: 1h 27m 38s

I’m still in shock! I really thought I’d struggle to achieve the sub 1:30 time that a 3:15 marathon target suggests. But conditions were perfect, as you can see in the crystal blue skies in the photos, but with enough chill in the air to cool off perspiration. Started running hard, but it never felt too hard, and kept it up non stop for 13 miles. That’s the whole story - it’s funny how there’s so much else going on in your head over that hour and a half, but there’s little to describe, or little to make it sound any more interesting than “I ran hard for an hour and a half”. No chats with anybody, no time to take in the odd characters along the Brighton sea front. I did get spat upon by one of the runner-spitters you always encounter, the dirty rats. But wow, you can’t beat that feeling of finishing and knowing you’ve achieved your target and then some. Then collapsing into a chair and drinking hot tea in the sunshine waiting for your buddies to finish so you can bounce off and eat and drink. I hardly dare mention that a 1:27 half marathon time predicts a 3:05 marathon time! I’m sticking with the 3:15 plan this year.

 

Too much too soon. I tried two experiments this weekend. A ten mile slow run on Friday followed by an 18 mile slow run on Saturday. I also tried the Saturday long run with no fuel on the run, and not much beforehand. The result - complete knackered-dom. Compounded by a lack of sleep. I haven’t been so tired at the end of a run since 2006 I don’t think. I won’t be doing that combination again in a hurry. My time for the 18 miler was 15 minutes slower than when I did it last year.

Off to Brighton this weekend for the Half Marathon, my first real test of any improved speed. I’m aiming at 1:30, or 6m50s pace per mile, but I’ll be happy with 1:32 odd, still 5 minutes faster than my PB.

Inspirational run today -  along the Malvern ridge from North Quarry down to British Camp and back. It should have been a bit further, but I didn’t print out enough map, so was worried about getting lost! That was far enough anyway, what with the 1700′ ascent, and some of those ascents were hard work. Two groups of walkers shouted wierd things at me, something about a license plate (? - didn’t understand that one), and something else completely unintelligible in the gale force wind on the ridge. The promised snow didn’t arrive, so it was a glorious sunny and freezing day with views for miles around. This reminds me, if I ever need reminding, why I run - you’ve got everything you need to hand, you can travel distance with no car, no bloomin’ shopping bag, no jacket, not worry about getting muddy or wet because it simply doesn’t matter. Just some dried mango, or jelly babies, and a bit of water, though I didn’t touch a drop today. Oh, give me the hills!

The run: 21.5 miles, Princes Risborough to Wallingford along the Ridgeway.

The time: 3h 20m.

The shoes: Saucony Jazz Grid (now at 450 miles - time for a new pair, oh joy!)

A great run, accompanied for the first hour, then P turned back to collect the car to pick me up from my destination - Wallingford. There were no coffee shops in Wallingford! What a crazy town, half occupied by a posh and empty Waitrose, but almost everything else was shut.

Inevitably I got lost at one point but was put rightly by a horse person near Nuffield. I finally followed the path below the dramatic chalk cutting along the M40, between Watlington and Chinnor, miles of muddy quagmire (quaggy mudmire?) near the quarries, red kites circling above, then quiet beech woodlands near Christmas Common, and lost in the Swyncombe Downs, finally over the golf course and downhill to Wallingford along Grim’s ditch.

So it seems I’ve given up on speed for the moment, and am reverting to distance. I did push myself on Tuesday to six 800 metre bursts on the treadmill, at 3m12s each. They call those Yassos, after Burt Yasso who came up with the mad idea you run 10 x 800 metres with jogs in between, then average your times. If you’re aiming at a 3h15m marathon, you should be running each 800 metre segment in 3m15s. Sounds crazy? Apparently it can be a good indicator, but that’s alongside actually putting in a lot of running the rest of the time ;-)  Anyway, it was damn hard work on a treadmill.

I think as a result of the extra long run last weekend, combined with this speed session, and a lack of sleep, I felt absolutely knackered by Thursday and took two days off training. It really worked, as I was full of beans again on Saturday, and Sunday’s long run was excellent.

Here’s my current schedule :
Monday: cross-train, 1hr biking usually
Tuesday: intervals or hill work (speed) running
Wednesday: cross-train, 1hr biking
Thursday: tempo run - increasing mileage each week
Friday: rest day
Saturday: easy run, 5 miles or so
Sunday: long run, keeping around 20 miles, or race day

Just piecing together more bits and pieces from various gadgets - here’s a clip from Aber Falls

Back up to the magic twenty milers at last. Definitely good to stop running at the end, but the legs felt fine, it was more the fuel that ran out - powered only by dried mangoes and a few swigs of water! So far today though I’ve ploughed my way through 8 scones and two helpings of lunch.

The trip: up the canal to the first bridge beyond Pigeon Lock (10 miles) and back. I did this trip last October in 2h 50m, today it was 2h 45m - 1:24 out, 1:21 back. Lots of mud, but no flood, thank goodness. The Cherwell alongside was flowing madly and mudly. Fishermen all along the route lined up some great hurdles for me, and all in all, apart from the flatness of it all, it was a great run. Once you get past Kidlington it’s a very pretty route, and past the Kirtlington golf course on the way to Rousham, almost deserted.

Shoes: Saucony Trigon Grid thingies - which held up well on the squelchy towpath and produced no blisters.