Training Plans and an Uphill Waddle

I went for a run. It’s run day on the training plan and I actually went for a run. Lately, you see, I have done anything but what it says on whatever plan I’ve been supposedly following. When it said long run I’ve gone short, when it said hills, I’ve just sworn, when it said short run I didn’t go, when it said rest I went long… chaos basically which is fine. In fact I quite like chaos, it adds a surprise element to life.

It’s quite hard to make any real training progress with chaos though, particularly when you’re like me and chaos basically means you don’t do the hard stuff. A little order was called for, not regimented ‘you must do this’ sort of stuff but just following a basic framework. It’s Tuesday and Tuesdays is 45 minute run day. Some Tuesdays have  45 minutes with stuff (like surges or hill repeats etc) but not this one, this one was just ‘easy’. The notion of ‘easy’ running amuses me. Easy pace is basically walking! Anyway. I got home after a good day and couldn’t really be bothered. I hadn’t drunk enough water, drunk too much coffee, eaten too much for lunch and it was hot. But nonetheless I set off.

I kept reminding myself to go slow in the sun and not worry about pace – just plod out the 45 minutes. Enjoy, look around… I puffed my way up the hill then towards the wood, past our Dino and up the slope into the wood. I nearly walked on the slope – I suspect I would have been quicker if I had walked. Down the golf course and along the canal. Bloody hell this was hard. One foot in front of the other. I wanted to stop at the bridge but I wasn’t anywhere near 45 minutes yet. So on I went. Somewhere between the next two bridges I decided that I would plod out 5km and then try and march up the hill home. It’s a steep hill. Almost immediately after I made that decision I started doubting whether I’d make the 5km. I did but it felt like wading through treacle. I was surprised when Strava told me I got a personal best on that last section. It also tells me it was 5km in 39 minutes dead.

Anyway, for the walk home – I went the most direct route – directly up in an almost straight line up a little snicket. I was hot, bothered, slightly dizzy in places and thought I was going to puke. I felt like I kept marching, stopping, marching, stopping but it was probably more like waddle, stop, waddle, stop. I got home. I had ticked the required 45 minutes off the list  – there is some order.

I collapsed on the living room floor and just stayed there a few minutes contemplating life (actually just sweating so much I was surprised not to have left a noticeable wet patch – can your eyeballs sweat?). Then slowly I got myself together and did some fairly random post run yoga – I couldn’t be bothered to get my mat or the iPad to follow an actual sequence so I did my own. My hamstrings are little bitches and totally intent on making my life miserable so they need a good stretch to keep them in check: ‘half monkey’ seems to really work for me for that. I thought my hips had been a bit tight but alternating ‘bridge’ and ‘happy baby’ a few times sorted that. Then I went in search of water (wasn’t hard, Kath had given me a full glass as I walked through the door). In spite of the uphill waddle I now felt pretty good about that outing.

I haven’t really done enough yoga today – I’m trying to do more but let’s take the small victories – I did manage 20 minute morning yoga yesterday which always sounds like such a lovely thing but the morning one on my yoga app is actually quite tough and after moving from downward dog to plank for what felt like the 150th time (ok, 3rd), my arms didn’t work anymore and I face planted. I have therefore settled on a new ambition in life: being able to do that sequence without putting my nose in danger. I also did strength exercises much to the cats’ amusement/bemusement. Ernest stared at me intently as I side-stepped with a resistance band. Actually maybe he just got a bit excited every time I got near the food bowls. Anyway, it’s only Tuesday and I already feel pretty good about exercise for the week. Tomorrow is strength yoga day. Next run on Thursday.

 

Happy running 

Just a short post because I only have my phone with me an typing on that is a bit tedious!

We are in Seahouses for two nights to see the Puffins before they leave 

This morning we got up at 6am, put our running gear on and drove from the B&B to the beach. Then we went for a run. It was lovely. It really was. 


Running on sand is hard and the tide was in so we were running on slightly softer sand than I really wanted to for a lot of the time. I realised I was going to have to walk a bit and go slow. I suggested Kath run ahead and collect me on the way back so off she ran into the distance. I walked a bit and then made my way across a rocky bit and then I took my shoes off.


Running barefoot was amazing and I managed to run a good stretch. My ankles, calf muscles and knees aren’t strong enough and I’ll work on that but it was just so lush. Every now and again my feet would sink into soft sand and soon I stopped avoiding the gentle waves lapping at my feet. I embraced the cold as it made me gasp and smile. I began to see glimpses of Bamburgh Castle 


Kath had turned round and was coming towards me again. I’d just passed 2 miles when we met and I turned round. We ran a bit, walked the softest bits and the rocks and then ran again 


The last half mile was perfect. It’s not that running was easy, it really wasn’t but it just felt like that’s what I was meant to be doing. I can’t really describe it and it was more than just a runner’s high. It was proper happy running! 

Magic Mile Benchmark

Kath has drawn up a new plan for us to get us ready for the Lakeland Trails Dirty Double in October. It’s a plan made for me that takes into account all my insecurities, weaknesses, obsessions, abilities and goals. The plan really started today – with 45 minutes steady including a Magic Mile.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned the Magic Mile before – ah yes I have here – but the basic idea is that you run as fast as you can at as even a pace as you can manage for one mile. The time you get is your Magic Mile time which can be used to predict race pace fairly accurately but more importantly for me, also shows progress quite nicely. I have a constant need to be patted on the head and told I’m doing well with running (funny, I don’t care in any other context) and the Magic Mile sort of does that as long as I run consistently and space them out sensibly. There are some 45 minute steady runs in the plan, some 45 minute runs with hill repeats built in or with surges etc, then there are the weekend long runs and the odd fartlek session.  We’ll see how we get on.

So run 1 of the programme was to go out for 45 minutes and as part of that do a Magic Mile. We set off and ran down to the canal and when we had done one mile upped the pace for the magic mile. Here’s how those first two miles played out (Kath was there but the dialogue is mostly mine – in my head).

  1. Happily jogging down Ilkley Road
  2. Turned left, still down hill, happy
  3. Glanced at watch – ‘ooh speedy’
  4. Happy
  5. What do you mean ‘ooh speedy’ – you’re supposed to be going slow
  6. Meh – shut up. I’m happy
  7. On the canal now, ‘hm, not going downhill anymore now, bit harder’
  8. Kath said we were at 0.8miles. I glanced at my watch and giggled ‘oh fuck, I’m already running at roughly what I thought might be sensible for the Magic Mile – 11.30 pace
  9. Kath: ‘And go’
  10. ‘Speed up legs, come on on, you can do it’
  11. Legs: Ok
  12. Lungs: ‘Fuck off’
  13. Kath – a quarter done
  14. Legs: Yay; Lungs: Fuck; Brain: a quarter? are you sure? Must be more. Lungs: Yes must be more
  15. Dogs in the way, dogs in the way, DOGS IN THE WAY, ok past the dogs
  16. Lungs: You have gone mad, you have to stop
  17. Legs: No – we’re fine (Lungs: Weren’t talking to you, legs)
  18. Half way
  19. ‘I wonder how slow this is’ – look at watch – doesn’t mean anything – shows average pace not current pace. Bollocks, stupid fucking piece of fucking junk
  20. Brain: ooh sweary, you’re fine, keep going
  21. Kath said something about doing well. Lungs: WTF, doing well, I mean seriously, Have you heard us?!
  22. Kath: 3/4 done, you can do this
  23. Legs (very quietly): We’re not sure we can. We feel a little wobbly now
  24. Lungs (screaming): STOP
  25. 0.8
  26. 0.81, 0.82, 0.85  – ‘wait, what? What happened to 0.83 and 0.84?
  27. 0.9. Legs and Lungs in unison – WILL YOU JUST FUCKING STOP NOW
  28. PLEASE
  29. Kath: You’ve done it!
  30. I resist the urge to curl up and die and walk instead, slowly

We make our way up the golf course, feed Dino and then set off back but Kath’s knee is a little niggly so rather than risking it we walk home. 3.6 miles to add to the total and a Magic Mile benchmark set at 10.34.

My next run will be in Seahouses and running did not go well there last time (I just looked and I don’t think I blogged about it fully – it was horrendous, worst ever in my journey and I nearly gave up running completely after that weekend – I should share that properly in another post!). Anyway, I have some demons to kill and a beach to conquer!

Getting out the door…

Getting out the door is hard. I’ve been  quite good at not getting out there door recently. Usual excuses, too tired, no time, too close to having eaten, not hydrated…. yeah yeah yeah.

So since Endure24 I have been out twice. The first time was miserable and slow and I was grumpy and I had to put in walk breaks for no real reason. I’ve been quite excited about running as long as I don’t actually have to run. I like thinking about running, planning running, booking races, reading about running. I look forward to running – right up until I actually have to run. Yesterday was another one of those days – I’d been looking forward to getting out for a run all day and then I got home and just couldn’t be bothered.

However, Kath had laid out my running gear and nudged me out the door. I was only going to feed our ram – so just about 3/4 of a mile there and the same back. I set off. I felt pretty good. One of those rare runs when everything comes together immediately. When I got to the bottom of Ilkley Road where I turn right I glanced at my watch and realised that I was going much much faster than I have for a long time – for well over a year probably and even then I never ran at the pace I was running consistently. In short, for me I was going at a ridiculous speed. It’s a steady pace for others but I was stunned – my watch most definitely said 10.12 minute mile pace. I started up the hill and glanced at my watch again – obviously I had slowed up the hill but I was still well under 11 minute pace and I decided that as I was only going to Dino’s field I would just keep pushing, just keep trying to stay under 11 minute pace. My lungs started protesting as I reached the last little push up the slope, my legs threatened to slow down but then I turned left and started the downhill and everything settled down. I kept running, reached the field and stopped the watch – 10.24 pace 0.8 miles. I got my breath back, fed Dino and had a little chat with him (he’s a talkative sheep) and started thinking about the way home.

The way I had just run is downhill  – a longish gentle downhill, then a slightly steeper uphill, short down, flat, short down and flat/slightly uphill to the field. The way back is the reverse and it’s harder. The uphills are tougher and I can’t remember the last time I managed to run it. In fact I think I have only managed to run the up section of Ilkley Road a handful of times. So my aim for the way back was to run it all – never mind the pace, just keep running.

I set off – it wasn’t at all conformable initially, the breathing wasn’t quite right, no rhythm. Then the short sharp slope came and I remembered a line from one of the running books I read, maybe in Running Free (Richard Askwith), that was something like: ‘Head down, small steps and wait for the summit to come to you’. And miraculously it did. I didn’t think I could keep running, I wondered if I should switch to intervals and then thought that was just too easy. I could see a friend’s van parked about 30 metres away and decided I’d run to that and if I still thought I needed a walk I could walk then. I passed the van and kept going enjoying the brief moment of flat.

Then the road started sloping gently uphill, just keep putting one foot in front of the other and eventually you’ll get there I thought. The slope gets steeper but I didn’t really notice. I was at the top before I’d had time to worry about it. I turned right and got my breath back on the downhill. I knew the toughest bit was yet to come. Ilkley Road is just a bitch. It doesn’t look like that much of a slope but it’s just relentlessly unpleasantly uphill.   I turned into the road. I felt ok. I didn’t dare look at my watch. I presumed I had slowed to actual snail’s pace. I was struggling now but the Pub had just come into view and there were people sitting outside. I’m too much of a stubborn bugger to walk while the people sipping their pints can see me so I kept going, one foot in front of the other. A few steps past the pub I glanced at my watch, 11.55 pace. Wow. I presumed I had been going much slower and that the overall average pace would have dropped to slower than that. I wondered if I could keep it under 12 minutes. I took a deep breath and pushed. As the road curves to the left and steepens a little I knew I wouldn’t make the hill, my legs were like jelly but I didn’t want to give up so I turned into the road before ours and picked up the pace further as I went down the slope. I stopped at the footpath linking this road to ours.

I stared at my watch. I couldn’t quite believe it. Given how my running has been going recently, I was beginning to resign myself to the number at the front of my average pace stats always being 13 or higher – whatever the distance. I wasn’t massively happy about that but just figured that was what it was. The number on my watch said 11.46. 11.46!

Getting out the door was worth it and I’m just going to leave that there: 11.46

The Thing with Consistency…

The thing with consistency is that, well, you have to be consistent. I like the idea of consistency generally. Consistency is sensible and safe and likely to see success in whatever it is you are being consistent about. The problem is, I’m rubbish at consistency. I don’t consistently blog, I don’t consistently file my emails or anything at all, I don’t consistently eat well, I don’t consistently exercise and I most certainly don’t consistently run. It’s been a month since my last running blog post and oh goodness has it been a fun sort of running month. Let’s see.

Just after my last blog post we went away to the Northumberland coast for a few days and I nearly threw in the towel completely. I didn’t seem to be able to run, I couldn’t do it, it stressed me out and I just felt crap about it all. Instead of a gorgeous 6 mile happy plod along the beach, I had a couple of barely a mile, tears, snot and general tantrum sort of events. I was quite ready to never really run again.

Once home, I got myself together again and decided that actually, yes, I do want to run. I managed 3 miles and then a couple of days after I managed 5k non-stop. Then we went to Bolton Abbey and I did the little loop while Kath went on to the next bridge. It was good to do it and I didn’t walk that much but neither of us were really feeling that one. Then we had a go at some speed work which I bizarrely sort of enjoyed – it was a sort of fun fartlek for beginners where you simply count strides and do the same amount fast and to recover going up in increments of 10 (starting from 10). I made it to 80.

Then  we hit June and I did a couple of short runs including one in the gym on the treadmill which was horrendous but, accidentally, very fast. I thought the treadmill was set to km rather than miles – reasonable assumption because that’s what it usually is – and therefore set it to run a steady 5k at 8minutes per km pace. That should have been easy but felt impossible so I quickly dropped to 10 minutes per km pace which still felt impossible so when I hit 2km I stopped, wheezing, huffing, puffing, sweating like mad and very very very very very grumpy. As the workout summary flashed across the screen I realised that the treadmill had been set to miles. I’d run 2 miles in just under 20 minutes, not 2km. Madness

Next I wanted to go out for a 5 mile little run but couldn’t do it. Head shut down and then my feet started hurting so I gave up half way and walked home. Two days later I thought I’d better have another go and I managed 5 miles non-stop running feeling pretty comfortable all the way. Then I had a gym session with lots of stretching and a bit of strength work the next day but no more running during the week until today. Today I managed 6.5 miles. I’m not sure how because it was awful, hideous, vile running.

We set off from Bolton Abbey Cavendish Pavilion and crossed over the bridge and ran towards the Abbey. I felt tired before I’d run 100 metres. I was a little worried because my tummy has been a bit uncomfortable for days – days of work travel, eating on the go and eating crap! It remained uncomfortable but more in a painful way than a ‘I’m going to wait until you’re as far away from the loo as possible and then make you really need to go’ kind of a way. I plodded, walked the hills, plodded. Bleurgh. We got to the car, had a sip of water and energy drink (more on that another time I think), nipped to the loo again and then set off again on our usual loop. I did not at all want to go, not one little bit but I just silently gritted my teeth and kept trying. We dropped into intervals of 2 minutes running and 1 minute walking and that’s how I got round. An eternity and 6.5 miles after we set off we got back to the car. The running was a whole new level of awful but at the same time it was fabulous to be out. We saw lots of ducks, blue and great tits, sparrows, chaffinches; we saw a dipper chick being fed by its parent and we ran a few metres with a sandpiper before it flew off showing us the way. A little further on we saw oystercatchers and then a heron flying across the field. On our way home we saw a further 3 herons.

When we got to the car I grabbed the water bottle and wobbled across the car park to the edge of the River Wharfe and collapsed in a sweaty mess. Kath came over and she brought me the first of the RunDisney Virtual Shorts medal for completing my run. I may not look it but I was excited and happy to get that! I earned that one. What a slog! The virtual run series is supposed to be for 5km runs really but in my head I had sort of decided that I wanted to keep them for the bigger wins in each of the months the series covers and running that route, just over 10km, is huge. We’ve attempted it a few times and I’ve never made it and I haven’t run over 5 miles since I abandoned the Half Marathon at Disneyland Anaheim in November. I got this monkey off my back and I feel better – even if the actual running was hideous.

But anyway, consistency. I have been running but not consistently enough. I seem to manage 2 back to back runs and then there’s a huge gap to the next. It’s ok in terms of maintaining that bit of fitness I have but it is not enough to build and it doesn’t make increasing the miles easy. I’m off to Mexico City for a conference on Monday, I have packed my gym stuff and I will run. I’m not sure about treadmill running but I’ll try!