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Re-setting the mind

Jess GuthLeave a comment

Why did I start running? Well I suppose the handful of attempts at various Couch to 5km programmes in my late teens and twenties were about getting fitter but my heart was never really in it. Then there was the 2013 half marathon in memory of Rachel, well my heart wasn’t really in the running bit then either.  Then I started again because it was a way to try and shift some weight and then there was Dopey and London and and and… At some point though my reason for running became running. I run to get out, to enjoy being outside, to explore, to see places, to notice nature, to be healthier. But recently that’s not where my focus has been. It’s been on performance. It’s been on distance, on pace and on measuring ‘better’ by how far I could go and how fast. Sometimes that’s fine I suppose because sometimes running regularly means I am able to go faster and further but mostly it’s not helpful for me to measure ‘better’ by distance and pace. Measuring better or even good in that way just makes me miserable.

I was thinking about all this as I was plodding my way through 4.4 miles using run/walk intervals this early lunchtime. After a few weeks of feeling the pressure of running and of trying to distance myself from the idiocy of about 80% of what I, along with most academics, do at work, I could feel myself slipping towards that place where the sofa becomes the safe space and leaving it gets harder and harder. I was beginning to feel like I wasn’t good at anything and that everything I was doing wasn’t good enough. But of course that’s not true and when I stop to think rather than just feel, I know this. So after a morning of feeling like I couldn’t really get out of bed, postponing our planned adventure to Haworth for a run and eventually going out for breakfast instead I somehow made it out the door for a run. I agreed to running intervals and taking the pressure off.  I didn’t actually want to go at all but I’d run out or energy to argue. 2 minutes running, 30 seconds walking – that seemed doable.

There were bits of the run where I managed to just enjoy being out and being able to move, to feel the wind in my face and be aware of the sweat tingling down the middle of my back. There were moments when seeing the geese grumbling irritably at the swans and their young made me smile and when I remembered to look out for the kingfisher (no luck today). There were stretches where I was completely aware of my body doing what it can to move as effectively as it can, I was aware of my breathing, of my feet striking the towpath lightly and moving off again, my arms moving in harmony with my legs that even at 3.5 miles weren’t feeling the slightest bit tired yet. Running can be the easiest and the hardest thing to do all at the same time. I couldn’t quite get my head out of better being distance and pace because I was pleased to have gone further than the last run and a little annoyed that it was quite slow but also happy it was under 13 minute mile pace. But if we take a healthier, happier definitions of what a good run might be then this was on the right track. It was a good run because I wasn’t miserable, because I enjoyed being out, because I looked around and saw the autumn colours and the ducks and the dogs going about their business.

So I am trying to re-set my mind – to stop thinking about ‘good’ and ‘better’ using traditional or usual measures of progress. And I don’t mean just for running. It’s all about trying to work out what’s important and hanging on to that. How fast I can go is really irrelevant. How far I can go is a little more relevant but actually not much – I can always walk and if how fast doesn’t matter then the how far question is far far less important. So today’s run was the start of refocusing on the things that matter.

 

 

Reboot 5k

Jess GuthLeave a comment

I don’t really like running at the moment. I like that I am running at all – I’d hate to not be running. I am sure I am both physically and mentally much healthier for running but I don’t like it much. I also liked having run this morning and I had a really productive day overall which is probably due in large part to having got out this morning.

I’ve not run consistently really. I need to. I will like it more, or at least hate it less when I do. This morning’s 5k was fairly horrible. Far harder than it should be, far slower than I’d like it to be but it was a run and I will have another run tomorrow and we’ve planned a weekend route which I am really looking forward to actually.

So there – yet another reboot and I hate running but not as much as I’d hate not running

I’m not getting flu – is that clear?!?

Jess GuthLeave a comment

Isn’t it always nice when you get a little reminder that actually you can’t run. Just something to bring you back down to earth and stop you being a cocky little shit. Yeah. Useful to keep you focused and on track with training. The thing is, I’d quite like a run that doesn’t include a little reminder like that. Helvellyn was as awesome as it was tricky and yes I did it but there were only about ten people slower and they were all walkers. I’m ok with that really but wouldn’t it be great to actually have run more than I walked on that.

Wednesday I did a Fartlek session and nearly threw in the towel several times. I did ok-ish in the end and I know I don’t have to go faster every time I do it etc etc but running for 3 minutes at a pace that actual runners use to warm up or cool down or go up really steep hills felt impossibly hard and I am grumpy about that (Previous 2 sessions in brackets).

  • 10 minute warm up: 12.27 (12.20, 12.43 pace);
  • 5 minutes: 10.37 (10.26, 10.27);
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 4 minutes: 10.30 (10.11, 10.18) pace;
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 3 minutes: 11.03 (9.56, 10.18) pace;
  • (then 5.5 minute rest);
  • 2 minutes: 10.17 (8.56, 9.52);
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 1 minute 30secs: 9.41 (9.09 ,9.47) pace;
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 1 minute: 8.41 (9.28, 9.29) pace;
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 30 seconds: 7.39 (9.17, 8.37)  pace;
  • 1 minute rest
  • 30 seconds: 7.38 (8.28, 7.39) pace.
  • 10 min cool down 14.23 (14.17,15.16) pace

Today I managed a mile. A whole fucking mile. It was a gorgeous gorgeous run. It was stupid o-clock but I wanted to get up and run. We’re in Scarborough, we left the hotel at about 5.45, it’s not really cold, it’s still dark. We set off gently jogging towards the sea and onto the seafront. I didn’t feel great. A bit sort of sluggish and vague. The first little stretch had streetlights but out to sea was pitch black and I love the rhythmic noise of the waves hitting shore which was amplified by the darkness. Running wasn’t feeling great at all but this run was meant to be stunning so onwards. The streetlights ended and we ran side by side in darkness. My ankles felt a bit stiff but they’d settle. I liked running in the dark with the sea to my left and imagined nothingness to my right, the lights of the North Bay behind me and limitless possibilities in front – for a while anyway until we’d round the headland and see the lights of the harbour and all that goes with it. But I am getting ahead of myself. I didn’t get that far. I felt dizzy, sick and had wobbly legs almost bang on mile 1. I also felt really cold all of a sudden. Not fucking happening. I kept going a bit. Just a bit and tried to convince both myself and Kath that I was ok. That didn’t really work so we stopped and I had a little cry and then, when the wave of dizziness was over I wondered if I was just being a wimp and was actually fine and just panicked about running. Maybe I was. Who knows.

We agreed I would walk back and Kath went on. I walked back quite slowly stopping every now and again to persuade my wobbly legs to keep working. I’m fine now that I’m back and sat down (although either too cold or too hot). Kath won’t be long and I can’t wait to hear about the run. I want to try again but I also want to curl up in a ball and cry and hide. I’d like a solid run, just a run where I leave point A, run a loop of whatever distance and arrive back at point A without anything happening, without any drama or event. Just a run.

I think I’ll try for those limitless possibilities of running on the seafront, and maybe even the beach, in the dark again tomorrow morning because, just to be clear, I am not getting flu, I do not have a bug and I can run!

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.