Category: Races

Snow, Cabin Fever and Planning

Jess GuthLeave a comment

17103419_10155109272833923_4410991487500202616_nI haven’t run since the Harewood House Half Marathon. I was quite sore on Monday. My hip flexor was not happy at all and my calf was painful rather than just tight so pulling out was definitely the right call. Then the snow came. I’m not ready to run in the snow. It’s also been a tricky week with the anniversary of my ex’s death hitting as a slow burn this year rather than a short sharp meltdown. In some ways I find a short sharp meltdown easier – a day or maybe even two curled up in bed a sobbing mess rather than a week or two of not really quite functioning.  All in all I have spent too much time on the sofa and too much time in my head.

The snow has been pretty but the novelty has now worn off. I wasn’t able to get into IMG_8532work for my teaching yesterday and I’ve only left the house once since Tuesday. Silly. I know better. Cabin fever has definitely set in for all of us and I’ve been watching our cats swipe grumpily at each other and demand attention from us. I’ve been a funny sort of restless where I actually never get my act together to really do anything but never settle either. I’ve played candy crush, tried to focus on work stuff and half heartedly watched athletics on telly.

So today I thought I’d better just get a grip. There have been too many tears, too many “I can’ts”, too many “there’s no points”.  I started tidying and sorting stuff. Everything feels chaotic (it is but not really anymore than it always is) and I thought sorting, filing, working on clearing the box room and sorting the study might actually help me get a grip. So this morning we sorted travel stuff, applying for travel authorisations, printing confirmations, checking what still needs booking, adding frequent flyer numbers to bookings and that sort of stuff. As part of that I also made a

During Half Marathon
Dopey Half Marathon 2016

note of the races coming up. As the day went on doing stuff got harder and the sofa kept calling. I started working through some old paperwork and some photos – I’m years behind in terms of sorting out photo albums/books but I did finally finish the Dopey 2016 one! Looking at the Dopey photos was nice though – motivation to get out there and start working now to hit the training plan much more prepared than I was last time. Anyway, here’s what’s coming

Keighley 10km: – maybe. We haven’t booked this one yet and might just decide on the day and enter then if we can. I’d quite like to do this if the weather improves and I can get out for a little stretch of the legs this week. It’s next Sunday.

Lakeland Trails Hawkshead 10km: I’m looking forward to this one. The course should be stunning and the Lakeland  Trails races have a lovely atmosphere and maybe 10k is really more my level than anything longer. With hindsight I don’t think Helvellyn was a sensible idea as the first one! I’m also looking forward to meeting up with some of the #Run1000Milers

Toronto Half Marathon: I’m really excited about this – what a fabulous way to see a city. And it’s flat.

Endure24 Leeds – Team Dopey in action. This will officially kick off our Dopey training I suppose and if the weather is as good as it was last year this will be so much fun – not sure I’m looking forward to that hill leading up to the finish though.

IMG_7791 (600x800)

Brisbane Southbank Parkrun – Yes, we’re planning on a bit of parkrun tourism and this one should work out really nicely

Great North Run – Another tick on my bucket list and probably the last chance for a Dopey proof of time

Maybe a Lakeland Trails autumn series run

Dopey 2019 – it’s crazy, it really is and I don’t know whether knowing what I’m getting myself into makes it better or worse. I want to do it because it is so utterly impossible.

Toy story

I’m pretty happy with that list – not too many races there but enough to keep me honest. I need to get back out there! I did 42.60 miles in February and haven’t yet done any in March. I’m still way ahead of last year but I can feel the lack of running mentally. I need to get back up to routinely running 8 miles plus to really get the benefit and keep the puppy at bay. Looks like I’ll have to get myself to the gym at work on Monday as the snow doesn’t seem to want to melt.

 

 

DNF but not an unhappy one

Jess Guth4 Comments

Today was the Harewood House half marathon. As I mentioned yesterday, I didn’t have the pre race nerves I often have in the run up to any organised event. I was a little more anxious this morning but nothing too bad. Nerves kicked in when I saw Kath’s Facebook post.

Screenshot 2018-02-25 16.36.31

We set off shortly after 8am, got there for just before 9am, went to the loo, had a wander around. It was cold, really cold! Kath bought herself a coffee and we sat in the car for 20 minutes or so. Then I went to the loo (again, obviously) and then we bumped into another Run1000miler Stuart (Hi Stuart!). It was lovely to chat briefly (and to now know that he had a great run and was lucky enough to see deer – how brilliant!) as we all stepped from foot to foot to try to stay warm(ish). When Stuart went to drop off his jacket in his car, we walked around the grounds a little trying to stay warm. Then it was time to line up and set off. I took my fleece off and passed it to Kath and then I was off.

I was quite happy with my 2 minute run, 30 second walk intervals. The field we were running through was springy and I giggled. I settled in at the back of the pack. The views were gorgeous, there were red kites circling above, the sun was coming out. We swept left and had a downhill road section. As I slowed for my scheduled walk break, my calf tightened. Really tightened. No, no no. Just no I thought. This can’t be happening. Briefly I thought about what Kath would say if I rang her now having to pull out or what I would say and write. The tightness had barely eased when the next run beep came. I ran anyway. It was niggling and tight but I kept going. Mile 1 had come and gone, Mile 2 wasn’t far behind. I sort of felt ok but the calf niggle was, well, niggling. I’d been running quite well uphill – I’d just been sticking to my 2 minute/30 seconds where they fell but around mile 3 I decided to stop trying to run them and nurse the calf. Instead I ignored some of the walk breaks on the downhill.

So after the first 3 miles I slowed down considerably aware that my calf would need nursing round the course quite carefully. I was ok though. I soon lost sight of the next runner in front and there were a handful of people behind me but quite some way away so for the next few miles it felt like I was alone on the course – in fact it was like that until I briefly joined the 10km route around 8 miles. In a good way. In fact I loved it. I saw rabbits and maybe a hare but it could have just been a big rabbit, it moved fast. I saw lots of little birds and whenever I came out of a wooded area into open fields there were red kites to watch. What stunning creatures they are. The views are amazing on this course. It’s hard to describe – just different at every turn, wood, fields, rolling hills, Harewood House (in all sorts of odd light), just stunning.

28459993_915935335253282_1841473425_o

I had a few good little wins along the course. I have mentioned my fear of downhill, slippy, icy etc before. I don’t think I mentioned I discussed this with therapist the other day – more on that another time – but some of the things we talked about really resonated today and instead of hesitating at the top of a steep grassy downhill I just kept moving; instead of trying to find a ‘safe’ way through a boggy bit I just went for it and bounced through and instead of whimpering at the sight of some of the muddy sections, I shrugged my shoulders and just went for it. And you know what, I slipped and you know what else – nothing happened. The world didn’t stop turning, I didn’t even fall over. I found the next somewhere for my foot and the one after that and after that and then the ground was less move-y.

So even though I had slowed significantly and was walking lots and my calf was very definitely  grumpy I had a great time. At some point just before mile 7 I suddenly remembered that there was a cut off time for the 8 mile water stop. I couldn’t remember whether it was 2 hours or 2.5 hours though. I had a quick look at my watch and decided that either way I’d be ok. Somewhere between mile 7 and 8 I noticed that I was hungry and also beginning to feel a bit tired. I hadn’t really felt tired until now. I decided that at the 8 mile point I’d stop briefly to get a bit of Kath’s home made cherry and almond flapjack (you need these in your life – I’ll share the recipe when I get chance) and have it with water. As I did that the last people still behind me came past in a mass of 10km runners whose route we were briefly sharing.

red-kite
Red Kite – Picture from RSPB

I walked until my flapjack and water had settled. I felt better. I had a little jog and did my best impression of a dressage pony through a boggy muddy bit and power walked up the hill and jogged down the other side and kept plodding and then something changed in my calf muscle. It didn’t snap or pop or anything but the niggle that I’d sort of got used to changed to pain. Not serious STOP NOW sort of pain. Just an ‘excuse me, you’re pretty close to breaking me’ sort of pain. Hmph. Ok, no matter, I’ll walk a bit.

I walked a bit. I was now last, not by far -there were 3 people within about 15 metres of me, but last. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like. Honestly, it was fabulous! The sweeper was keeping his distance on the bike and I was left to my own thoughts and the views, goodness the views. I tried running a bit more. My calf protested. Ok. Well, I’ll walk a bit more. I walked until just after mile 9. Then I tried to gently jog a downhill slope and my calf said no and my hip flexor said ‘Hi, remember me, I’m here and you knowing that is probably not a good thing’. I made the decision. I called Kath to let her know that I’d be pulling out. I’d let the sweeper know already and he said that if I could walk the best thing would be to simply make it to the next checkpoint. I was quite happy with that really although I didn’t realise it was another mile to go. Throughout that last mile my calf didn’t get any worse but my hip flexor got really quite sore. As I saw the 10 mile marker I briefly felt like a complete idiot for deciding not to go on. It’s only the sheep loop, only a parkrun, only a distance I can easily do…. But it would have been idiotic.

I stopped at the drinks station just at the 10 mile marker (although my Garmin says I did 9.82) where there was also an aid station and I could get a lift back with one of the off-road ambulance vehicles. Thanks to James and Jonathan for the ride! I literally got a lift back to our car where Kath was waiting. I nipped into the first aid centre  and asked for an ice pack which I stuck down my pants onto my hip flexor for the drive home. Everyone was lovely and asked if I needed them to look at my calf or whether I needed treatment but I really just needed an epsom salt bath and some stretches.

As things are now I am happy with my decision and proud of myself for once in my life 28500259_915935378586611_1230085131_ohaving made a sensible decision. I don’t think I’ve done any damage. I think it was a useful reminder that my calf muscles need much much more and consistent strengthening and stretching. Ideally I’d also like to be a bit fitter and trained on hills for next time – although I was happy with how I felt walking them (I remember not being able to walk uphill without setting off heart rate alarms).

So I might not have finished but I’ve had an awesome day. I enjoyed all of it – even the last mile really. I might have been in pain but it really wasn’t that bad, particularly as I didn’t have to try and go any faster at that point and the course was still spectacular. In fact it is a course that makes you want to do it justice. I’ll be back next year. Loved it.

 

The one where I don’t have pre-race nerves

Jess Guth5 Comments

I should be nervous. I should be anxious. I should be absolutely fucking terrified. I’m doing a half marathon tomorrow. And not just any half marathon either – the Harewood House Half Marathon which is hilly and muddy. There is a cut off time to reach 8 miles. I’ll be on my own because Kath’s ankle isn’t ready for hills and mud yet.

So why am I not anxious? It’s certainly not because I’m well prepared. I’m not. I have no idea if I can do the distance – I haven’t gone anywhere near that distance for some time actually and to add to that I haven’t run in the last 2 weeks really. I was suddenly terrified and tired and busy and I just didn’t go. Always the way isn’t it – when I’d mentally benefit from running most I find it the hardest to get out there. Anyway, so I’m NOT prepared. I could of course just pull out and not go. But I want to go. I actually want to line up on the start line and see if I can get round. I’ll be setting my watch to run/walk and then I’ll just keep putting one foot in front of the other until someone tells me I have to stop or I cross the finish line. That’s it. That’s my plan.

I’ll let you know how I got on tomorrow.

 

 

Running in the Shadows

Jess Guth4 Comments

Putting this weekend of running into words is quite hard. We ran in the shadows of Helvellyn, we ran in the shadows – full stop – there was almost no sun to be seen, we ran in our own personal shadows, fighting our own personal demons…

Let’s start at the beginning. We drove up to Glenridding on Friday afternoon. We stayed at the Glenridding Hotel which is a little odd but absolutely fine. We had our tea in the hotel bar and both opted for Cumberland sausage and mash – I wasn’t entirely sure about that for running fuel but we weren’t running until 1pm so it was going to be fine. We got an early night and I slept quite well. After breakfast (full veggie version) we walked IMG_7812across to the field where the Lakeland Trails marquee was. It was actually just next to the hotel. We couldn’t yet register for our race as they’re busy giving out numbers for the 5km and 10km runs that went earlier. We walked round the little village (didn’t take long) and along the first few hundred metres of the race route. I was beginning to really feel like I shouldn’t be there.

Everyone I’d seen so far was skinnier, looked stronger, looked like runners. It seemed ridiculous for me to be there. We went back to the hotel and just rested and watched the 10k race and 5k race leave and then, after not very long at all, we watched them come back in. That didn’t settle my doubts. I knew that this run was likely to be the hardest I’ve ever done. I’m not confident on tricky terrain and the terrain was going to be tricky. I got changed into my running gear and at about 12.40 we headed over for our 1pm start. We joined the queue for the loos, had a pee and then it was only another minute or two before we were on our way. We jogged slowly along at the back of the pack and for a short period of time it was all ok. It was going to be awesome and I was going to love it. We turned left towards the hills and quite quickly hot a bottleneck as everyone slowed to make our way down a narrow path alongside a little river. Then things opened up and started sloping upwards.

Screenshot 2017-10-15 20.35.17

I started finding it so hard so quickly and had to walk much sooner than I wanted to. I’d only done a mile and I was struggling. My head spiralled and I started to wonder what on earth I’d been thinking – I didn’t belong there. But I kept putting one foot in front of the other and eventually the second mile was done. I don’t really remember what came where on the run but I remember the relentlessness of the early ‘up’ and then the section that I disliked most which was a muddy slippy path where a woman behind me fell (not seriously hurt) and I may have whimpered a few times as I lost my footing and just about stayed on my feet. Once through the muddy bit the paths turned to streams for much of the way and it was actually nice to run in the water. We settled into a little running rhythm and eventually passed half way.

The scenery was stunning. I kept reminding myself to look and try and take it in. There was a huge amount of water around with waterfalls coming off the fells all over the place. You could tell when you were running through a stream coming down from up high – it got marginally deeper and significantly colder. I didn’t take any pictures on the run so these are from the day before of the first bit of the route.

Not long after half way we were passed by the first runners doing the race rather than the challenge – they were doing the same route but had set off an hour later. The next bit was horrendous. We kept having to stand in to let people past so it was stop start and I IMG_7784was struggling. I was also a little upset. Kath had been talking me through all the sections, pointing out the easiest path and encouraging me on. At around 3 miles (I think) we’d come down a steep set of stones which basically formed steps and I was doing my best but going quite slow and at that point it sort of felt like Kath was just fed up of me and really annoyed at me. I snapped at her and we continued in silence from there. We said almost nothing to each other until we were back at the hotel. As it turns out, Kath was struggling with anxiety and I just made it worse by not realising, snapping at her and not being able to go faster. If we had been a little faster we would have been off the narrow stretch by the time people started coming passed and that would have helped loads. Kath just withdrew into her own little bubble to get herself through it and I didn’t know that so felt a little abandoned – because, you know, obviously everything is always about me.

At about 6 miles we crossed a little bridge and had a really boggy bit to navigate. As my right leg disappeared thigh deep into the bog and I vaguely wondered if my trainer was going to stay on my foot I sort of giggled. This whole thing was totally ridiculous. I pulled myself out, pushed on, got stuck with my left leg, pushed off again and felt my left calf muscle protest – protest but hold, then I was through. From there the rest of the run was along a wider path and it was easier for people to pass. I managed more running, not enough really but more. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and just over 2 and half hours after we’d set off, we crossed the finish.

We went straight back to the hotel rooms, stretched, and had a bath (I had a proper mud tan). IMG_7814We were both a bit upset and started to talk things through. We went for some food and were grateful when the brilliant little cafe/restaurant Fellbites agreed to serve us from their cafe menu when they’d normally have a break while they set up for dinner. Over food and a little walk we agreed that we would pull out of the Ullswater Challenge we were due to run today. If either of us had picked up a hamstring niggle we wouldn’t even be having the conversation about whether to run and really, an anxiety niggle is no different. Once the decision had been made we stopped at the bar, had a couple of pints and reflected on the run.

Today we went to Ambleside before heading home, had a lovely couple of hours spending money on running gear, books, cards… and then we came home and went for a run. I thought it was important for Kath to have a proper run so we agreed the route and I sent her on her way and followed more slowly. My legs were a little heavy and I could feel my knees and ankles questioning my sanity. Nothing actually hurt though so I toddled on. For some idiotic reason I had agreed to do our trail route through the wood –  who needs comfort zones anyway?! I hesitated briefly as I got to the top of the wood and had to navigate down the hill. I was tentative but I never kept moving. There were a few more sections along that path that defeated me – mainly because the path was covered in fallen leaves and I kept tripping because I hadn’t seen tree roots and stones and of course I wasn’t actually picking my feet up enough. I finished that section and went on to make my way onto the canal – I was determined to keep running which I managed until I saw Kath at just under 3 miles. I stopped as she was talking to someone we know so I had a little breather and then we went on and completed our loop together. With that run I have hit 405.5 miles for the year.

So what I have learned?

  1. I am a really selfish runner. It’s all about me and it never occurs to me that Kath might actually be struggling. It just didn’t enter my head. She likes running, she’s good at running, why would she struggle
  2. I am not fit enough to deal with the uphill and too much of a wimp to go downhill – bit of an issue on the Lakeland Trails
  3. I may have looked totally miserable but I actually really enjoyed much of it and certainly loved the experience overall
  4. In spite of 2 above – I am so much fitter and so much bolder than I was. Not that long ago I would really have struggled to walk that route very steadily in the dry and would simply not have done it in the wet!
  5. Even when we get things wrong and our wires crossed, we’re a solid team. We needed different things from this run so neither of us really got the best out of it but we finished and we learned a lot.
  6. Helvellyn and Ullswater are stunning and I want to go back
  7. Lakeland Trails events are great events and I want to do more
  8. Walt Disney was right, it is kind of fun to do the impossible
  9.  Champagne bought by a wonderful friend to celebrate another achievement is really rather yummy after a weekend of running (thanks Chris!). Cheers!

IMG_7818

We have to talk about pace – again.

Jess GuthLeave a comment

I have been quietly seething about 2 running related things. Sometimes it takes me a while to realise just how pissed off I am with something but today I realised that I have been seething for a little while.

I think I probably realised because I was quite happy with my pace today. We went for a run at Bolton Abbey. My watch didn’t play. It wouldn’t lock onto satellites and wouldn’t let me start the timer. So the stats from the run are from Kath’s watch – but we ran the same course, started at the same time and finished at the same time which means I ran 4.5 miles in 59.38 on a hilly course. That’s elapsed time not some funny strava hocus pocus which measures the moving time. The previous best elapsed time on that route is 1.03.33 (and spookily a moving time of 59.38). So yeah, I was pleased that the watch confirmed that the route had taken just under an hour. Very pleased indeed. The average pace was 13.20 minutes per mile. Most people would call that slow. I have called that slow, but for this route, on this day, I was bloody happy with that.

This afternoon our new wall planner for training plans and races came so we were putting on the runs we’ve booked in pen and ones we’re thinking about in pencil. A couple of weeks or so ago we had looked at the Haspa Hamburg Half Marathon which would be at the end of April 2018. It’s a nice route, we could stay at my Dad’s and combine the run with a family visit. It’s been ages since we’ve been to Hamburg. It would be fun. Well I thought it would be fun until I saw that the time limit is two and a half hours. TWO AND A HALF HOURS. Two and a half hours from gun time, too – not from when you cross the start line. That’s 11.27 minute miles – not just once but for 13.1 miles consistently and if you can sustain that you’ll still come last(ish). So to make sure of finishing within the time I’d basically have to run 2 minutes per mile faster than I did today. Maybe this shouldn’t piss me off. Maybe that’s fine. Half marathons are for people who can, you know, actually run. But it does piss me off. Half marathons shouldn’t be so bloody elitist. There is no reason to have that cut off time as far as I can see. The marathon runners use some of the same route so it needs to stay open anyway. The marathon starts later so the finish etc all needs to still be open – and if it’s a different finish, well then maybe the route needs to be different so that it is the same finish. Would it really be such a big deal to stay open for longer? I mean really? And how much longer? Well, until the last person has finished might be an idea. Or at the very least let people complete the course on the pavement – here the info actually says you will be asked to move off the course and remove your running number and can’t complete. Gee thanks.

Anyway, that made me think of something I saw the other day on my run. The one where I ran to Bingley 5 Rise Locks and Kath went a bit further – actually I don’t think I blogged about it in any detail. While I was waiting for her to come back a group of school kids arrived on the canal. I paid no attention for some time, trying to block out the constant noise from the little voices. However, it went quiet which made me look up and they’d all disappeared for a little run down the canal. Fine. Then they obviously came back because the volume went up again. I was getting a little cold so I was pacing up and down. One of the teachers said, ‘right, last interval’ and then looked at the last 3 or 4 kids who had only just made it back and said ‘Well you just run as far as you can and we’ll collect you on the way back’. It was so dismissive. He then set off with the front runners, another teacher went with a middle lot and the teacher who was obviously meant to be the back marker couldn’t even be bothered to run with the slow kids. He just sent them on their way and then played on his phone. They didn’t go far before the first of the fast kids were coming back at them and the teacher turned them around and said something – no idea what but the body language of the slow kids changed as they plodded their way back to us and were overtaken by the kids who had run further than them. They hated it. I could see how much they hated it. I felt like giving the teachers a mouthful. I really did. Everything they said and did must just have been so demotivating for those slow kids. They were ignored and  dismissed, nobody said ‘well done’ when they got back to the group, nobody asked how far they’d got, nobody acknowledged their effort (and they had put in some considerable effort judging by their colour and huffing and puffing). The teachers were all engaging with the faster runners and as I decided not to wait any longer but let Kath catch up with me and therefore started my little jog past the group, two of the teachers gave me the same look they’d given the slow kids. I smiled at them, because of course, I am a slow kid and in my own small way I wanted them to know that slow kids have just as much of a right to be doing their thing. Over the last few days though I keep coming back to that dismissive tone of ‘just run as far as you can and we’ll collect you on our way back’. Kath was collecting me on the way back but our conversation had been entirely different in tone. It made me feel good about running my distance and allowing her to run hers. It acknowledged that we could both push ourselves a little that way and as soon as she caught up with me we had a conversation about our respective runs.

The teachers and the other kids just didn’t seem to think that those 3 or 4 slower kids were worth their time or acknowledgement. How dare they be so dismissive.

How dare they.