Week 4 - In which I bounce back!

Miles this week: 5.4
TOTAL MILES: 89.4

Tuesday 25^th Jan – Interval day!

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(1 mile warmup, then 12 x 400 mtrs at 7m 10 pace followed by 200m recovery, then 1 mile warmdown)

Today something quite alarming happened.  Joe, the 3yr old son of the beautiful girlfriend, ran up to me and shouted “Gary Gay!” before departing with a smug look that suggested he felt his work here was done.

Now, this obviously hurt.  It was a bad week, last week, one of the worst I’ve had since starting running, but insults from a 3 year old are surely a bridge too far!  What we had here was a clear-cut case of the need to reassert my authority.

However, he is a big lad for his age, with mean fists and a penchant for violence, and I wasn’t feeling particularly good about myself.  In this situation, the double humiliation of not only failing to knock down a 3yr old with the first hit, but then having to rely on my superior footwork to fend the youngster off as he moved in for the kill would have been enough to see me give up completely and join a monastery.

So instead, I decided to redouble my efforts in the hope that maybe I could once more gain his respect.  Luckily, Joe’s brother remains on my side as long as regular doses of Justin (http://www.bbc.co.uk/cbeebies/somethingspecial/) are received.

Unfortunately, I only ended up doing 9 of the expected 12 reps today, since my watch wouldn’t actually go up to the 12 reps.  This is not an excuse, but a true story!  In any event, the session went well and I easily spent most of the 400 mtr sessions in the 6 minute bracket, which is somewhere I have spent little time in of late.

Today was a good day, so hopefully we’re on the up again!

Miles this week: 13
TOTAL MILES: 97

Wednesday 26^th Jan – 8 miles easy pace (9m 30)

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I am back on the up!  Today’s run was dispatched in 1hr 07, at an average of 8m 42, well inside the expected time for the run.

It felt good today, even with the hills of Basingstoke trying their best to dampen my ardour.

The heart and lungs were coping well, the legs were a little sore but generally happy with things and the most important part of all was that I was under the expected time by some distance.

I am back on track!  If the rest of the week goes as well, I’ll consider myself over the bad spell for now..

Miles this week: 18
TOTAL MILES: 102

Thursday 27^th Jan – 1 mile warmup, 3 miles at half-marathon pace, 1 mile warmdown

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This is more like it - I'm starting to get into my stride now.

A nice flat-ish run, in which I managed the middle 3 miles at an average pace of under 8m per mile.  The entire thing, with 2 slow miles, was an average of 8m 16, which basically means that even with the warmup/warmdown miles, I averaged my half mile pace for the whole thing.

Tomorrow is a day off before hostilities resume on Saturday, but so far I'm feeling good and it's starting to come together!

Miles this week: 21
TOTAL MILES: 105

Saturday 29^th Jan – Parkrun

Now here's the thing.  Today called for an easy parkrun of 3 miles in 28 minutes; a little over 9 minutes a mile.  I understood this and I was happy to obey.  After all, tomorrow's run was looming and it was a long one.

And with that in mind, I set off, with the key aim of taking it easy and basically mooching round.  I didn't complain when the lady with the pushchair came past.  I uttered not a single word of complaint when the group of schoolkids half my height came past.  In fact, at no point did I feel the need to accelerate, happy as I was at the pace that my schedule had dictated.

And then it happened.  20 stones of tubby, sweaty, heart-attack-waiting-to-happen lycra came past and looked at me as he did so.  If he hadn't have looked, I'd have enjoyed my slow pace and carried on.  But now it was personal.  He may as well have insulted my mother.

My head said "forget it, you've got your pace, stick to it."  My heart, however, said "he's mocking you.  Make him pay by going past him at speed.  That'll show him."  And so, finally obeying a 20 yr old request from Roxette, I listened to my heart and accelerated.

 I looked straight into his eyes as I went past, trying desperately to convey that I had meant to speed up all along as part of some sick plan involving toying with the emotions of an overweight runner, and that now I was going to kick sand in his face by effortlessly disappearing into the distance.

Then, just ahead, I saw the group of schoolkids.  Again, my head said "don't worry, fat boy has been taken care of, you've proved your point."  My heart screamed "little bastards deserve to be overtaken!"  As a result, my pace quickened, my rage increased and I flew past them with all the speed of a cheetah that had just been kicked square in the nuts.

That pattern continued for the next 2 miles, with me overtaking people downhill, uphill, and with a steadily increasing fury that meant that I came out of the final corner like a bat out of hell and finished in a little over 24 minutes.  So I was about half a minute off my Parkrun personal best despite starting at a ridiculously slow pace for the first mile.  So much for a slow, relaxed run...

Miles this week: 36
TOTAL MILES: 120

Sunday 30^th Jan – 15 miles slow pace (2hrs 22m)

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I’ve been simultaneously looking forward to, and dreading, this run for weeks, ever since I saw it on the schedule.  Now, clearly I’m training for a marathon, but this run here represents the first and only time in my short running career in which I have run further than 13 miles.

I’ve always been a half-marathoner.  This is basically because I generally have a boredom threshold of 2 hours.  Anything that can be done in 2 hours is fine by me.  Once over that, my interest rapidly diminishes.

I knew that it wouldn’t be that difficult; I’ve run 11 miles for 3 consecutive weeks and coped.  The last of these was a horrible experience and yet I still met the time requirement, so I knew I would be fine.

But still, this was the first time that I had stepped over the line from half to full marathon and I did so with a fair bit of trepidation.

As a result, I started pretty much on the nail in terms of expected speed.  I felt so good after a mile, though, that I started to wind the pace up a little bit.  The expected pace was 9m 45 per mile, and so I tried to maintain it under 9m.

The iPod was on shuffle, the air was cold, but I felt good and had gels, isotonic juice and gloves.  And a buff.  And tights.  But manly tights, not those girly ones that other runners wear.  These tights, were they to become self-aware, would rob a bank, such is their manliness.  So not girly at all. Just getting that straight.

In spite of being wrapped up, the temperature was in the minus degrees Celsius and it was a struggle to maintain heat, leaving me with little option but to keep the pace up, even when I would occasionally want to back off a little bit for a breather.

I also managed to get lost going over a bridge straddling the Basingstoke ringroad.  Not my proudest moment, since it was technically a single direction thing, as bridges tend to be.

Still, I got back, got in, got a bath and a Lucozade and felt good.  I felt drained, and my legs were hurting, but I felt good.  Monday is a rest day, before the joys of intervals hit me once again, but after feeling completely demoralised and miserable after last Sunday's run, this week has been a revelation.

As a result, I'm feeling good about next week.

Week 3 - In which the week goes downhill fast

Miles this week: 13
TOTAL MILES: 65

Wednesday 19^th Jan - 7 miles at easy pace

No map – I lost the data!

I’ll be honest, I’ve started to feel the pace a bit lately.  This is week 3 for me, and the legs seem to be screaming at me almost constantly.  At times like this, I like to dig deep and think of the eventual gains in the following weeks.  (Well, that’s not quite true – what I really like to do is sit in a beer garden and drink delicious cold beer.  But doctors will tell you that doing this and then running will accelerate your path to the grave – mostly because running when pissed probably involves a lot of weaving, making collisions with cars inevitable.)

Still, I was expected to do the 7 easy miles in about 66 mins, and ended up doing it in under an hour.  So all things considered, if I can maintain that pace when tired, I should be much better with a bit of energy in me!

Miles this week:  18
TOTAL MILES: 70

Thursday 20^th Jan – 5 miles at steady (8m 30) pace

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I have a simple 5 mile route for these 5 mile runs which is a simple enough course, but provides quite a bit of uphill work on the first 2.5 miles.  It’s not quite “hill training” but it all counts, and it does you no good at all to simply find flat roads to do this.

Not really too much to say about this run – it felt ok, not great, and was dispatched at an average of 8m 10 pace, so 20 seconds a mile.  That’s actually pretty quick at this stage, considering how tired I find myself feeling lately.  I’m still waiting for the bounce back of energy.  It’ll come soon, I imagine!

Miles this week:  21
TOTAL MILES: 73

Saturday 22^nd Jan – Parkrun (3.1 miles)

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Remember how just yesterday I was complaining about a lack of energy and waiting for the bounce back?  It happened!  Today I completed the 3.1 miles in 22m 27.  This is over a minute quicker than my PB for the distance, and equates to an average pace of 7m 16.  Considering how tired I’ve felt all week, this is incredible!

It must be stated, though, that this was not the normal Parkrun course; nor was it actually timed by Parkrun.  I was unable to get to the War Memorial Park in time, and so this was a timed run by me later in the day.

Still, it was 3.1 miles and the time doesn’t lie.  I’m actually getting quicker!

Miles this week:  32
TOTAL MILES: 84

Sunday 23^rd Jan – 11 miles at steady pace

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Urgh.  It would appear that yesterday was merely a glorious blip in an otherwise depressingly tiring week.

There’s absolutely nothing good to say about this run.  I went out feeling OK, and yet from the first half a mile to the end, I felt absolutely terrible and hated every single second of every single mile.

These bad runs happen, of course, and there’s nothing you can do apart from finish with as much effort as you can and chalk it up to tiredness.

In fact, on this one, I cut out half a mile and only did 10.5.  (The distance thingy says 10.3, but the Garmin had forgotten to start again after stopping at a road whilst waiting to cross.)

It was dark, too, and I am no fan of running in the dark.  I do it during the week because necessity demands that I do it, but weekends should be daytime runs only.

Still, I did the distance in the expected minutes per mile, so really that’ll have to do.

Christ I hope next week gets better than this!  Definitely a low point.

Week 3 - In which I am thankful for my Y chromosome

Miles this week: 6
TOTAL MILES: 58

Tuesday 18^th Jan -  Interval training!

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(1 mile slow jog, then 6 x 0.5 mile at under 7m30 pace with 200mtr very slow jog in between, then final 1m slow jog)

It would appear that the schedule has deemed Tuesday to be ‘interval day’.

There’s nothing to say here that I haven’t said elsewhere regarding my love of hating interval training, so I won’t.  Except to reiterate that I do.

So anyway.  What of the session itself?  Well, here’s the thing:  it really wasn’t that bad.  Yes, it was tough, since I am a stone heavier than the last time I was running under 7m30 a mile, and yes, the place I’d picked to do the fast intervals had an incline in it which was enough to cause more cursing of the gods, and yes, the legs were once again receiving notes from other parts of my body, written in newspaper clippings, with pictures of puppies with guns to their heads, but apart from that it was actually ok.

With all that said, though, the pain was quite bad on the last couple of repetitions, although this paled into insignificance later on that night when I watched One Born Every Minute.  I mean, holy shit, who’d be a woman?  Not only that, but then the poor man gets to sit there in the corner of the room knowing full well that every woman in the room knows that he knows nothing and is about as useless as a third tit.  And they know he knows that they know and that makes it worse!

From the results of my research (2 episodes of said programme) it would appear that a man’s sole function in the birthing process is to hold the woman’s hand and say “breathe” from time to time.  Don’t get me wrong, I could do that, given enough training, but I’m not entirely sure that it’s not just something the midwives give the man to do to keep him safely out of the way.  I was kinda hoping, when I am deemed worthy of having one or two of my own, that men were required to do nothing more strenuous than sit outside with a pack of cigars and an expectant smile.

But I digress.  Back to the run.

So the hardest part was actually the 5^th repetition, which was the final one up the incline.  It was one of those when you have no choice but to keep your head down, get the legs moving and just wait for the beep from the watch.

I was so tired after this that I was praying to the gods for the following 200mtr slow jog not to end.  It turns out that prayers to gods whom you were insulting not moments before doesn’t actually cut it, though, and so I was forced to start the final fast half mile sooner than hoped.

The final slowdown mile was lovely, though.  In fact, this night’s run did quite a lot for my confidence that I’ll be able to keep the pace up when needed.  It also confirmed that I shouldn’t watch One Born Every Minute, but for the life of me, I can't stop watching!

Tonight’s music was supplied by the Shins.

Week 2 - In which we discover that training actually works! Who knew?

Miles this week: 32 (including Tuesday (report is here))
TOTAL MILES: 52

Wednesday 12^th Jan -  7 mile slow jog at 9m30 pace

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Slow jogging! Hurrah for the lack of effort!  Three cheers for the continual not-interval-at-all pace!

Nothing much to say here, really.  It was a nice, easy 7 miles through Amazingstoke town centre and out through to the Black Dam area on the other side. Before returning.

Everything felt good today, although the legs were a little heavy after yesterday’s efforts.  It’s apparently important to get a good mix of flats and hills in these types of runs and, with Basingstoke appearing to be far hillier than I’d ever believed, a good mix was got.

Music today was provided by Steel Panther and the Foo Fighters.

Thursday 13^th Jan -  4 miles at a steady pace (8m 30)

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Today I found out that Chineham Business Park goes on for far longer than I’d previously thought.  It’s actually like a geographical Tardis.  It’s funny how much you find out about a place you supposedly knew when you’re forced to wander around it on foot.

I don’t know why this pace and distance felt good, but it did.  The legs were cooperating and the heart and lungs may well have been asleep, such was the lack of effort required to keep me plodding along.

It’s worth noting that this pace (8m30) is my ultimate expected pace for the marathon, if I’m to get the time I want, so to have it be comfortable (albeit for a much MUCH shorter distance) after the Sunday long run and the interval training is akin to finding out that the massive and angry man waving his fist at you is in fact merely a dwarf standing far away.   On a hill.  Or something.

Music today was provided by Muse and Stereophonics.

Saturday 15^th Jan – Parkrun (5km, covered in 23m38)

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You know, there might just be something to this training lark after all!

Managed to beat my PB by 1 second today.  Now, overall, a second is neither here nor there over the course of 3.1 miles.  The impressive bit, though, is that I was expecting to be here (in or around PB territory) in a couple of weeks.  See, kids, this is what happens when you take training seriously!  To do it on the back of a hard week of training too is a chuffing marvellous performance, I think.

Also, never underestimate the importance of natural competitiveness.  During Parkrun there is always someone ahead of you and, if you’re lucky, there’ll be more than one and you can pick ‘em off.  For me, it usually happens on the hills.  For some unknown reason, I appear to have an advantage on hills, easily passing people that only moments before were holding their own.  I hate this.  I hate hills, I hate the pain they bring and knowing that I’m actually pretty OK at them pisses me off immensely.  Still, it’s good to have a speciality.

No music today.

Sunday 16^th Jan – 11 miles, scheduled completion time of 1hr 39, actually completed in 1hr 32

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There are occasions when I do surprise myself.  Mostly because I have a terrible memory and pay no attention to things, but that aside, I can also occasionally surprise myself with my running.  I’m a decidedly average runner when comparing my speed over long distances to that of the really fast guys, but even so, this time represents an improvement of 7 minutes over last week’s run over the same distance and, if we extrapolate up to 13 miles, would mean a half-marathon time of under 1hr50.

The reason that this is surprising is because I’m meant to be training up to a half marathon pace of 1hr 45 and I’m not due there for a little while yet. In a race situation, with energy drinks, gels and people around me, a 13-mile run in 1hr 45 could well have been possible today, which is effectively my true half-marathon pace as required by this schedule.

Of course, this is only week 2 (or 3 if you’re normal and prefer to follow the standard calendar) and I have yet to suffer a dip in enthusiasm (interval training aside) or energy.  When they hit, it will be important to remember these early gains.

The real issue with this run was that Basingstoke appears to be on a natural plateau, with everything around it being downhill.  This is not necessarily a problem as long as you remember that what goes down must come up, and running practically a mile and a half up a constant incline after 8 miles is pretty much a bastard.

I try to take hills at the same pace as the flats if I can.  The only thing you can do, realistically, to shorten the pain, is to keep your eyes on the horizon and keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Don’t slow down, even by as much as a second a mile, ignore the screaming pain in the pit of your stomach and just get up there.

This advice is easy to write, but hard to put into practice when you’re a mile into it, STILL going uphill with no end in sight, and with your heart and lungs teaming up to write threatening letters to your legs.  Keep at it, though, and eventually you reach the top.  If, like me, you find yourself with a final 2 miles downhill, well, that’s a bonus, but it’s usually enough to find yourself no longer going uphill.

This hill coming out of Sherford St John and heading up towards Basingstoke hospital was the first time in a long time (not just this training schedule, but running in general) where I’ve had to grit my teeth and just force myself to keep going up the hill, especially coming at around the 8 mile mark as it did.  In these times, I find that insulting the gods with a selection of curses and unfavourable comparisons with ugly stars of stage and screen works wonders.  That, and of course, blaming it all on Nicholas J. Coumbe.

Music today was provided by Florence and the Machine, Plan B and a little bit of Bon Jovi.  (I’ve discovered that it is actually physically impossible to avoid speeding up during Living on a Prayer.  This is not fun on hills.)

Week 2 - "Put the match down and step away from the orphanage..."

11th Jan:  Interval Training
Miles this week: 7
TOTAL MILES: 27

(1 mile at 9m30, then 4 x 1 mile at under 8m10 with 400mtr recovery jog in between, then 1 mile at 9m30)
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I believe I've mentioned my lack of enthusiasm for interval training.  What I didn't do is supply some detail, so I'll do that now.  (You can skip this bit; keep going down until you come to the "However".  It's there, I promise.)

Right.  Interval training.  Imagine the most evil thing you can think of in the next 3 seconds.  I'll wait.   ...   ...   ...  Right, in those 3 seconds I came up with someone setting fire to a box of kittens and hurling it into a petrol-dowsed orphanage.  Without doubt that is classified as evil, and certainly nothing that a reasonable human could contemplate, or condone.  But here's the thing:  the flaming-kitten incendiary device would be wholly unnecessary because the orphanage would already be on fire, started by me, because that's what interval training does to me!

This hatred of pace variations started a long time ago, when I was a wee nipper playing football.  In the early days, football training merely consisted of playing football, until, that was, the day that a new manager turned up with a bald head and a plan to make us the fittest team in the league.

So out went the long summer days of playing football, to be replaced by a new-fangled (for me, at least) idea of running quickly in one direction, jogging back to the start at a slower pace and then repeating this ad infinitum, all to the stirring cries of "my grandmother sprints faster than that!" and other such delights.

Us players held the view that we could simply stop training and go back to playing football the way we did in the beforetime.  No.  The support of too many fathers who had failed in their own footballing careers ensured that the bald manager created a new, perfectly legal way to torture small boys on Tuesday nights and Saturday mornings.

(One child did defy his father, but he never returned.  We would talk about him often, reverently passing on tales of the Boy Who Said No.  We’d also hang around his house at night, fully expecting the police to burst down his door at any moment and drag an irate father off to the gallows.)

So anyway.  No to interval training.

However.  (See?  Told you!)  With all that said, interval training is an effective weapon in the battle between body and fitness and so, reluctantly, I headed out of the house with my head hung low.

My knees were a problem for the first half a mile or so, but the pace was a mere slow jog at this point and so the aches and pains melted away as everything warmed up.

The next 5 miles, 4 of them at a fast (for me) pace, were actually better than I thought they would be.  Sure, they were tiring, but the intervals did their job and returned just enough pluck to ensure that I gave the next fast mile a good old fashioned British try.  The only real difficulty came in the 4th quick mile; it was a long, slow uphill stint for the first half of it, and for those who don't know what it's like to run uphill at speed, it is just about one of the most painful things you can do with your body that doesn't involve specialist equipment.

But I put my head down and got to the top of the hill and was rewarded with a final mile downhill at a slower pace to finish.  I felt good, the heart and lungs were one with the legs, and all in all I felt that maybe, for today at least, I could forgive the introduction of interval work into the schedule.

And then I got back home and re-read the schedule for the run.  There, in black and white, was the schedule.  3 miles at speed is what it said.  3.  Not 4.

Apropos of nothing, I am now planning a visit to a local orphanage.