Sunshine on a rainy day

As laid in my hotel bed at 3:45 am, unable to sleep because of the combination of excitement and nerves, I thought to myself, 'we must be close to a railway line or something'.  A short time later I realised it was actually the wind in the trees outside my window.  I eventually got up at 7am and looked out, it didn't look quite as bad as the forecast suggested. Yes it was raining, yes it was windy but I imagined a biblical downpour rather than just - rain.  I managed to eat my breakfast and messed about packing and unpacking my bag and trying to decide between shorts and tights.  My pre-race routine went completely out of the window as my Sister and Brother In-law (Pete) called to say they were waiting downstairs.  It was time to go (outside) and at this point it was clear that actually it was pretty flippin cold.

We got dropped off and spend the next few minutes avoiding the puddles in a vain attempt to keep our feet dry on our way into the stadium/start. And that was the last time I saw Pete until about 6 miles in (when he overtook me like I was standing still).  A few more distractions inside the 'Dons' meant I was even less organised than normal.  What a time to get a call about a stray dog a 100 odd miles away!

The plan for the race was to stick as close to 3:45 (8:15) pace as long I could, accepting that at some point I would blow up and that by then I'd hopefully have banked enough to scrape under 4 hours.  Not a 'normal' pacing strategy but I was worried that if I started running just under 9 minute miles when it came to the latter stages I'd not have anything left to pick up a bit.

Anyway the race got underway and I slipped into a nice 8:15 pace for the first six or so miles, give or take 30secs for a wee break.  Despite limited training in April I felt okay in the legs but crikey my stomach felt as ropey as a bag of full of ropes. I had only one swig of water until I got the first Lucozade station at 8 miles and after a swig of that, I spent the next mile trying not to lose my breakfast.  Puddles of rain is bad but puddles and other runners breakfast is quite another.
I reached halfway more or less bang on 3:45 pace and started to think that maybe it would be possible to keep up the pace, but by 16 I was starting to slow up a bit and beginning to felt the miles. By 20 I'd worked out that I was still about a minute ahead on my 3:50 pace band but I was loosing about 30 seconds a mile on that.

Just a small puddle!

I should have mentioned that I was I-podded up for this run and until 22 miles I had only one dodgy shuffle.

But just before 22 miles there was quite a steep hill that really started to hurt, then of all the songs on my i-pod, Adele came whining into my ears about some bloke who's she's heard about and who's married now or something. It's not the easiest thing to 'release' the i-pod from my back pocket, switch of the 'keylock' thing with frozen hands and then try and change tracks... But I just about managed it but did a sly walk whilst changing - sadly my wife and sister were just up the road a bit and spotted that!

The next event was my second gel attempt. The stomach was feeling better by now or at least my legs were hurting so much my stomach felt better by comparison so the 23 mile gel station was visited. Another narrowly avoided vomiting incident later 24 miles were ticked off and I knew that I could run 12 min miles and still make sub 4 hours - phew. But if I ran a little bit faster I might, just might scrape sub 3:55 so off I went.  It felt like I'd suddenly started running 7s but the Garmin told me different! The final mile or so was emotional to say the least.  As Doug says on his blog Stadium MK appeared out the trees and suddenly we were a wide open road, running down hill.  The I-pod chose this moment to shuffle onto 'So here we are' by Bloc party which is one of my favourite songs and one of those tunes that makes my hairs stand on end even though I've heard it loads of times.  I've never actually looked up the lyrics until now but after 25.5 miles it seemed much more meaningful... So I've pasted them here with my MK Marathon additions

I caught a glimpse, but its been forgotten (of the stadium and no it's not been forgotten) 
So here we are again (yep)
I made a vow, to carry you home... (yep and I blogged a bit about it) 
I really tried to do what you wanted (run sub 4 hours) 
It all went wrong again (Not this time) 
I figured it out,  (apparently I did) 


Brilliant - those 3m53s of Bloc Party brilliance will stay with me forever.  The song ended just as I turned into the stadium and I pulled out my ear phones and just ran as hard as I could running past the goal and up the side line... and across the finish line.

3 meters  from the finish line if you squint

13 seconds over 3:55 I blame that ALL on Adele and her rubbish relationships!  Anyway I set out in the morning to run sub 4 and was nearly 5 minutes under my target so at that point i was an emotional wreck.  Crying when your out of breath is so hard I gave up until I saw my wife and niece in the stands waving...

Where's Wally (in a yellow top)

Plodding out from the stadium was nice and gave everyone a chance to encourage the people coming into the stadium to finish.

MK Marathon - Done. And I loved it despite the rain, the cold, the mud, the puddles, the floods, the pain and the hills.  All of those things made it a really memorable day but most of all it was the marshals and people that lined the course with so much enthusiasm, energy and at times humour.

The Journey to MK
This whole MK adventure started with a conversation with my sister and Pete. Sis didn't manage to do any training for the race so didn't run (something about a new job).  With 600 odd training miles between us and a 26.2 mile Pete was the clear winner completing his debut in 3:37.  I am seriously impressed with that time and it does give me a target for NEXT time.

Thanks to my wife (Lisa) for taking the pictures and supporting me throughout the journey...

Twenty (6.2 miles too short)

A fellow 'Fetchie' described the Essex 20 course as flat with definite PB potential.  He was right about the PB (as I'd not done a 20 mile race before) but he was wrong about the flatness!

The course (not flat)

I'd call the Essex 20 course all sorts of things. On Sunday it was wet, cold, windy, undulating, and at times rolling but definitely not very flat.  No matter though as I had thought about the possibility of a few lumps and in a perverse way I quite like running up hills.  The race was three laps of the the Langham 10k course (which 'apparently' also has PB potential).  I've only done one other lapped race so this was going to be something a bit different for me.

My plan was to run the first 10k at about 9:30-9:45 pace, the second at 9:00 and the last at 8:15-30(ish).  The logic was just to treat it like a long run, not get too carried away by the 'race', get some miles on the clock and not ruin my legs.  Like many of my runs I didn't quite stick to the plan and I knew that was the case but until about five minutes ago I didn't realise quite how far off the plan I was.  I've just looked at my 'auto' split times from my Garmin which clearly isn't overly accurate and seems to knock of a few feet of each mile. I've noticed this at races before and its a bit frustrating to hear it beep for a mile when you're 100m from a marker post.  Anyway - according Garmin I did 20.25 miles and the last 'lap' was at 7:14 pace. The rest of the laps look like this.

1 - 9:04,  6 - 8:45,  11 - 8:50, 16 - 8:25
2 - 8:34,  7 - 8:48,  12 - 8:18, 17 - 9:26
3 - 9:12,  8 - 8:22,  13 - 8:31, 18 - 9:32
4 - 8:46,  9 - 8:28,  14 - 8:25, 19 - 8:40
5 - 8:50, 10 - 8:37, 15 - 8:35, 20 - 8:32

What does all that tell me? Well for one I'm not great at pacing myself but I knew that already. Second it tells me that I can run at about 8:30 - 8:45 pace for quite a long way and I kind of knew that too.  So I guess the most important lesson was that even running at quite a conservative pace hurts after about 14 miles and after 17 it really starts to hurt.  And I have to remember feeling and get the old bod ready for it and stop skiving off my long runs. Quite probably I also need to mix it up a bit more with some faster paced runs or speed work. Since my shin problems I've really held back from running 'hard'.

Inspiration 

Crispin Bloomfield

At about mile 13 (I think) I got lapped by the race winner Paul Molyneux from Springfield Striders.  Instinctively you would have thought that being lapped would be a pretty crap experience but actually it was inspiring to actually see the race leader (even if he did pass me as if I was walking).   I worked out he did about 5 minute 25 pace all the way around!  Later on I got overtaken by Crispin Bloomfield (pictured) from Billericay Striders and winner of loads of other races I've done in the past.  I've never met Crispin but I felt the need to give him a bit of a yell which he acknowledged with a little thumbs up.  That tiny moment distracted me for the next few miles as I reflected (again) on how even an elite runner could acknowledge the existence of others but not some bloke on Maldon By-pass*.

Other stuff 
After looking at the forecast my 'support crew' decided that three hours standing around in 6 degrees and heavy rain was not their idea of fun and would stay at home - I can't really blame them. So I was alone and feeling very 'unattached' with all the club runners everywhere.  There's something great a looking out for supporters as your plodding away and that was missing from Sunday's run.  I wont deny the last mile was tough, I'd been running just in front of one guy for ages - 6-7 miles and in that last mile he just went past me, but I tried to up the pace a bit and give it a bit of a last push.  As I approached the finish I could see this little boy who was about the same age as my son waiting with his mum for someone to come past.  But there, just beyond them was another little chap who actually was my son standing with his mum waiting for me. After 20 miles surprises like that are emotional.  

* p.s. thanks for your comment Doug if you read this

Never eat shredded wheat (NESW)

The plan was to run 20 miles on the Sunday just gone.  It seems that unless you like going around in lots of circles or doing out and back route, proper long runs take a bit of planning. So Saturday evening was spent doing just that - Well that and trying to find my local OS map without success.

The result of all that plotting, undoing and re-plotting was this mighty loop around the Dengie. Surely it had everything I like in a local run, sea walls, sea, isolation, big skies and even views of an offshore wind farm!   I'd also pass through three unconquered Fetch conquercise areas - brilliant.

Sunday morning was bright and pretty crispy so I was really really looking forward to it.  Especially as before I left the house I put a nice leg of lamb in the oven to cook away and share with the in-laws later in the afternoon.  Household chores out of the way I set off stocked up with jelly babies, 'sports' drinks and a banana. 

The only bit of the run I was worried about was around 11 miles where I had to turn off the sea wall and start heading back for home.   The first part of the run was certainly chilly, but there's plenty of wildlife and marshy goodness to enjoy and distract me from any niggles or negative thoughts.  The first milestone was Bradwell marina which is about 4.5 miles in, after that its a quick hop through Waterside towards the old Power Station. 

At Waterside theres a nice little sailing club that I always think looks really friendly and there sitting in their dinghy park was one of two 'soap dish'es.  I'm not going to bore anyone with why this boat is so special but it is, and I was both really excited and sad to see it sitting there a bit unloved.  For some reason I alway feel that boats have souls and need rescuing, so spent the next bit of the run thinking all about how I could - but most likely wouldn't.  As much as it was a radical boat for its day it was also a bit of a dog.  

Next stop and jelly baby point was St Peters on the wall which was the subject of an earlier post.  At this point I think I upset a gaggle of bird watchers who were amassed looking south down the sea wall which was also my route home... After a bit of cursing and tutting they abandoned their 3 foot telescopic lenses for tea.  I'm not sure whether that was because I scared off the birds or that they just didn't want a telescopic look at my lycra clad arse. Either way they I got the distinct impression they were not happy.  I can understand that I guess. 

Grumpy bums

I actually saw another runner at this point on the run.  One of those ones thats all, heads down, and too cool to say hello or even acknowledge the presence of another human doing the same thing.  There's a few like that in Maldon that I've come to recognise.  For some reason I always get some weird satisfaction from combatting their unfriendliness with a really over enthusiastic, cheery wave and greeting.  Would it be that hard just to nod? Anyway...   I was making good progress, and was ticking along at round about 09:45 - 10min mile pace which was just fine.  The next milestone was the right turn onto a public footpath. But sadly, the footpath was not in the slightest bit easy to find, or follow.  So I merrily ran past my turning and then spent the next 20 mins trying to find a way to get back on track.  Phoning my wife didnt really help as much as I had hoped.  The conversation went something like this. Wife - 'What can you see?' Me - 'well , I can see a sea wall, a field and a drainage ditch'. Wife - 'Hmmm I'm not sure that helps there's 8 miles of that', Me - 'yeah I kind of thought that might be the case. See you in a few weeks then'.  In the end I did find a farm track that led back inland and eventually to what any sane person would call the middle of nowhere.  It was time to request a pick up before the in-laws turned up! 

So it was a 16 miler in the end and frustratingly I still haven't broken the 20 mile mark. 

On the plus side the shin didn't give me any grief.  I have learnt exactly where the footpath IS for next time and where it rejoins the 'main' road.  I found an old legend of a boat looking a bit sad in a dinghy park. I found that I can drink SIS sports drinks without any issues and I had a cracking bit of lamb in the afternoon. 

Next time I do a run like that I'm not going to leave home without the OS map though.  Oh and I ticked off a few more zones and am slowly reaching Dengie domination on Conquercise. 

20 miler tomorrow

I've just finished mapping out a 20 miler... that will test the leg out I suspect.

Dark, dark, places

It's been nearly two weeks since my last post on here which probably is a result of 1. finding it hard to find time to run let alone writing about it and 2. having lots of other things to do at home, such as making some new wardrobes.  I say making, I mean assembling them really!

The last week's been pretty tough in terms of running motivation.  I've been struggling with a few niggles by far the biggest is calf pain / shin pain.  According to a running friend 'shin splints are worse than child birth' so, unless womankind has been exaggerating for years, I don't think it's shin splints.  Perhaps just a bit of a strain and just my body telling me the training is having an impact.

Thierry (Yucky) 

Niggle number 2 is my sixth toe which seems to be developing nicely. It's by no means the biggest blister I've had in my running career but its a right pain in the... big toe.  It's been causing all sorts of drama in the dressing room and it suddenly came back after a few years away so I've called it Theirry.   Niggle number 3 is more minor but effects my walking gait.  I have what you might call 'intimate' chaffing, thats a pain in the arse.  Must remember to pack the Vass.

On Friday, I'd planned on running 10 miles after work.  It was one of those occasions when I was very, very tempted to just get in the car and head home.  But I decided a trot down to Hoe Mill Lock, Ulting was what I really needed to do, although it only works out about a 8.5 miles round trip.  With the niggles at the fore I concluded that it was probably best to run very gently.  Once out of Maldon it's dark dark countryside all the way, so head torched up I set off plodding away.  At about 3 miles the calf/shins seemed to have loosened up enough to begin to enjoy things.  There's a few fishing lakes near the lock and in the darkness, all I could hear was ducks and geese going about whatever they do in the dark.  Whatever they do do it sounds spooky on your own.  The lock is about half way and running wise I felt quite relaxed and so I sped up a little bit.  The next next two miles passed quickly and then I felt a very unnerving feeling. Was it wind caused by the tin of chickpeas I'd munched at lunchtime as a garnish to left over chilli? Or was it something much more sinister?  I was not prepared to find out.  I blame the next few miles of paranoia on Tonky Talk in last months Runners World which was about runners bowel movements.  I know some people really suffer with faecal issues but fortunately, and touching wood not cloth, I had never experienced any problems in that department.  Never before had I spent 3 miles looking for discreet places to crouch.  With immense concentration, I focused on the thought of Tesco's loos which by then were only a mile or so away...  But strangely by the time I got to Tesco the feeling had disappeared as quickly as it arrived and I was back focussing on how much the niggles were niggling.  An unusual sense of relief!   I managed to get another half mile on to the end of the run by doing a couple of circles around the streets near work, but decided to call it a night at that.

Everyday is like Sunday
Sunday's planned run was a 11 miler, as I've got a Half coming up next weekend. So I met up with my Maldon based running chums and set off again to Hoe Mill lock with the plan of adding on a bit at the end.  What a difference a days rest makes.  The shins where not sore, the bowels were fine, but the chaffing and blister remained. Still thats another 11 ticked off the plan at a nice gentle pace.  It brings the months running total to 106 miles which isn't too shabby considering I missed a couple of longer runs for various reasons.  Most importantly though my running chum who's training for next weekends Half did really well and ran strongly.

A Game of Two Halves

Sunday was 'long run' day for me as I am sure it was for lots of other people.

Earlier in the week I'd agreed to run with a work colleague (and friends) who were also training for the Great Bentley Half in February. That was fantastic news as it meant there was no bailing out and finding the Sunday sofa a bit too comfortable. As good a plan that was, I also needed to get a few more miles done than the 8.5 miles my running chums had planned.  My perfectly simple solution was to go off and run another 7 or 8 miles after trotting around the first bit.  The first part of the run was a pleasure, with people to talk to and encouragement flowing in all directions.  The sun was out, there was not too much breeze, it was without doubt a crispy, winters day and in my mind, perfect running weather.

One of our conversations was about how psychological running is.  One day you can feel like you're gliding along with efficiency, grace and a spring in your step.  On another day you feel like you're dragging a tyre around your waist and one behind you and your trainers are filled with lead.  Despite having 11 odd miles in my legs from my Friday run I felt good, happy and confident that the next 7 would be a breeze.

So I left my running friends and set off for my second 'lap'.  The first few miles were great, they weren't fast but I felt okay until the running demons came out.  They started telling me I hurt, my legs suddenly filled with cement and my spring was replaced with flat footed plodding.  The voices started to tell me things like 'run/walking is perfectly acceptable' and 'see that gate, stop there'.  It was tough going and somehow managed to experience the spring and the plod all in the space of a few hours.

I've been running long enough to know that you need long runs for very good reasons, but this was my first one after a such a tough running week.  Still, if I actually want to get around that Milton Keynes course in a decent time I'm going to have to get used to that kind of hurting.  My four mile recovery run today certainly hurt.  Hopefully it did its job though as its a 8 mile Fartlek session tomorrow. Gulp.