Kill or Cure - a runner’s mentality

I even managed a half decent pic! (c) Barry Cornelius

I had a 10km race this weekend and, as luck would have it, a cold.*

Not a horrific body-shuddering dose of 'flu but a nagging head cold and sore throat that plagued me from Wednesday and was still setting off alarms when I woke up on the morning of the race on Sunday.

I had eased up during the week to compensate on the basis that I had done a great base of six weeks training including a total of 65 miles the week before.

As expected, my mind started to play tricks on me and tell me that I was stuffing up all my training (you can read more about my warped mind here and here). The truth was that I still managed nearly 30 miles including two very good interval sets and two strong 12km runs.

But I still awoke on the day of Bourton 10km with a raw throat and blocked nose. But me and two running buddies headed off in good spirits and my motto for the day was ‘Kill or Cure’ - I was determined to come back with proof that my marathon training was still on track or keel over.

Of course, being an experienced 10k runner I listened to everything I had read and discovered for myself as the race began.

Or at least, that is what I was hoping to write, the reality was that I shot off like a rocket. I smashed out the first kilometre in 3.30 and felt the exhilaration of being in the leading pack before someone appeared to attached weights to my heels and strap on a 30kg pack to my back.

I managed to keep pushing out sub four minute kms but people flowed past me until the halfway point. I even slipped to a couple of 4.01 kms at 6 and 7 but then my marathon training kicked in and I started to claw back some of the people who had overtaken me earlier.

I could feel the cold take hold about 8kms but by then I knew I could hang on and have a good run. l couldn’t push on and really let rip but I managed to find a solid pace. 

I really noticed a difference due to the coaching I have had for three weeks at the Oxford Tri track session. I had a mental checklist of technique checks which made me straighten up and stretch out my stitch.

Someone caught me - another triathlete - with about 400m to go and I hung on for a while but my usual strength had gone I had to let him go. It was a dent to the pride as one of my few highlights is a finishing kick that rarely gets beaten.

I crossed the line in 39.28; a personal best by 13 seconds. Not as good as I had hoped but better than I had feared.

Bourton didn’t kill me but, as I write this and feel like my head is stuffed with cotton wool, it didn’t cure me either.

Now to get fully back on the marathon training and focus on the next race - the 20km Great Northern in Derby. It’s organised by Punishing Events who put on the excellent Ashbourne Duathlon so I am really looking forward to it.

*  Caution - this post contains traces of sarcasm.

Toad and Id throw stones at my running training

We’ve already taken a trip into how dark and obstructive my mind can be and this week it was up to its old tricks trying to undermine my efforts to have a properly constructed training regime for the London Marathon.

I designated Week Five as an ‘easy’ week - a chance for the body to catch up with the hard work from the weeks before. I racked up nearly 60 miles in Week Four including a long run of 17 miles and my best ever interval session during which I reached such speeds I expect to get a call up to the Justice League any day now.

I started my easy week with a long run of 18 miles. It was a slog but not unenjoyable as I mixed up hills, road running, the Thames towpath and a bit of woodland so the variety made it appealing.

I was in London for work all day Monday and replaced my usual steady run to work and back (17 miles total) with a gentle 5km run in the sun before donning the suit and heading into the big smoke.

On Tuesday I was back in the office and hit the treadmill at lunchtime. I smashed out another very strong interval session, improving again on the pace of the previous week.

Wednesday was a rest day and my brain was already itching to point out that I was easing off. Of course, my conscious mind - the SuperEgo if we want to go down the Freudian route - knew exactly what I was doing and why, but the blasted Id was jumping up-and-down and pulling at threads of doubt.

I tried hard to ignore it but it nagged away - a Larkin toad that refused to be pitchforked and driven off.

Having spent more than a month running on my own I thought it was time to make running a bit social (and a bit competitive) and joined Oxford Tri club at the running track on Thursday night.

Unfortunately it was covered in a thin but ankle-snapping layer of ice which meant that we shared the infield with a variety of other running groups. The coach adapted brilliantly and managed to put in a good technique-building session with base fitness thrown in.

It was really enjoyable and confirmed to me that I need a bit of company on my training journey.

Friday and Saturday were both ‘off days’ as I completed my rest week. The spiteful side of my brain continued to throw insults at me, telling me that ‘I’d be unfit next week’, that 'my dream of breaking 3.15 at London was disappearing with each lazy day' but I ignored it and rested up anyway.

I totalled just 30 miles for the week but it's difficult to know how much good it did me as I am suffering a bit of a bad back now. It’s not running-related and doesn’t interfere with training but it makes sitting at a desk almost literally a pain in the backside.

Runner hunger - I was like a newly made vampire

I learned a major lesson about long distance running this week - the stomach is as important as the legs.

Week Four begun with two dawning realisations:

1. the hard work was really beginning
2. marathon training cannot be all silver lining and no cloud

My long run started on Sunday with leaden legs and it’s the first of the training schedule that I haven’t really enjoyed. I covered 25km and chose a hillier profile than before but it felt like a slog from very early on.

I did get the benefit of some beautiful frosty weather and it was nice to explore some old trails around Youlbury Scout Camp and Boars Hill that I hadn’t seen for a few years. A major advantage of running early is that frozen ground means you can get deeper off-road than might be made impassable by shoe-sucking mud just a few hours after the sun comes up..

But I couldn't work out quite why I was devoid of energy later in the route. My legs plodded and my shoulders drooped - I couldn’t keep any meaningful pace going .and started to feel a bit confused about how far I’d been and what I had to do next.

I got home, snarfed a huge bowl of porridge and got down to the serious business of being Hulk to my boys’ Spiderman and Wolverine, Dragon advisor to my daughter and chief picture-hanger of the Bradbrook household.

But the hunger never left me. I started to understand how Walkers feel as they try to take chunks out of  Rick Grimes and his crew and how newly ‘made’ Vampires inevitably go on an insatiable blood-sucking spree before settling down with a feisty young lady such as Buffy Summers or Sookie Stackhouse.

I didn’t actually develop a taste for human flesh but if one of my kids’ hands had fallen in my mouth I may not have been able to help myself. As the day wore on I was unable to  combat the hunger and treats snuck into my mouthy with growing frequency. Kit Kats, Mars Bars, 9 Bars, Haribo - it was all stuffed in without ever filling the aching hole in my gut.

On Sunday evening I caught up with an old friend - Emma-Kate Lidbury, who is a professional triathlete living and training in San Francisco.

When I told her how I was feeling  and she heard the shame in my voice and saw the guilt in my face, her first question was "what did you eat on the run?" Her second question was "what did you eat after the run?"

My answers of "Nothing" and "Porridge" drew a knowing chuckle. "Your body needs fuel Malc. Fuel to work and fuel to recover."

Of course, I know this. Or at least I used to. I've done a marathon before and cycled long distances but this time it seemed to sneak up on me.

I need carbohydrates for fuelling the run and protein for helping my muscles recover and crucially I need the carbs after an hour running and every 30 minutes thereafter and the protein straight after a run.

Monday morning came and the hunger still nawed away at me so straight away I ordered a race fuel package from Lucozade and a protein recovery package from Osmo Nutrition. 

Why those two? Well, Lucozade is the official sponsor of the London Marathon this year so it seems sensible to train with the products I will be using on the day and Osmo is recommended by Emma-Kate. She has been racing at the top level for more than nine years now and the report she gave me of the way Osmo Nutrition products help her made it a no-brainer.

Friday was my son's birthday so I was up early and left for work later. I don' t have anything to eat before running to work but this time I was up early and left a bit later than usual so by the time I was 3km away from work I was bonking badly. I grabbed a Lucozade gel from my rucksack and the results felt instantaneous which leads me to believe there must be a substantial psychosomatic effect.

As a result the hunger did not stay with me all day and I managed a run home. It felt a satisfying end to a week that had started badly. I had done a great treadmill session on Thursday - my best ever - so there was still plenty of sliver lining in Week Four.

My legs making my brain shut up

Anyone who is into cycling has heard of Jens Voigt. The legendary tough guy of Grand Tours who thrills fans with his breaks and his willingness to turn himself inside out in an effort to win a stage.

Probably his most famous quote is “Shut up legs” which is what he says to himself when his body tried to ease up in a race.

 

But when running I think I must be the anti-Jens Voigt because my legs aren’t the problem - it’s my stupid wimpy brain. Here’s a recent internal battle I had during an interval session on a treadmill.

--

Legs: Well this is going well. I feel like I’m flying. I might actually be faster than Quicksilver at this moment in time.
 

Brain: I need to look at the stopwatch.
 

Legs: Back off. You know it’s not over yet.

Brain: Need to. *checks stopwatch* Oh noes! There’s still 40 seconds left.

Legs: So what? We are Kool and the Gang right now.
 

Brain: Negatory. Ribs hurt - I think he’s getting a stitch
 

Ribs: He’s right. I defo hurt right now. So bad.
 

Legs: Brain’s fooling you Ribs. He’s trying to make you make me stop.

Brain: Ooo I am not. You take that back
 

Legs: Brain! Make Torso stand up straight!

Brain: *mumbles*
 

Ribs: Woah. That is loads better.
 

Brain: 20 seconds left. I can’t take it - I’m going to make Stomach throw up.
 

Legs: Do it then.
 

Stomach: Don’t bring me into this. I’m always on a light trigger anyway.
 

Brain: But there’s people watching. It’ll be embarrassing - you can’t really want me to throw up?
 

Legs: Look you fun-loving money-crusher. Throw up or shut up - we are doing this.

(nb: this was written before the watershed)
 

Brain: Aaargh. Arms have started to feel funny.
 

Arms: We don’t mind. It never lasts long.
 

Brain: I have spots in front of my eyes
 

Legs: No you don’t that’s a fly. We are doing this.
 

Brain: Woah. Only 5 seconds to go - may as well stop now.
 

Legs: I will come up there and kick you in the frontal lobe if you make Hands touch that dial.
 

Brain: I’m so thirsty.
 

Legs: *growls*
 

Brain: Wait a second. Wahey - we made it. I feel so alive
 

--- As the treadmill slows from 21 kph to 6kph, Nirvana’s Jesus Don’t Want Me For a Sunbeam comes on my headphones ---
 

Legs: See. Work hard, get your reward.
 

Brain: No way! You did not make that happen.
 

Legs. It’s Karma dude, it’s fucking Karma (nb: that sentence was written after 9pm)
 

Brain: I love you man.

Numbers, numbers everywhere.

I don’t want to bore you.

I started this blog for me really but it’s been gratifying to see the number of people reading my blog and commenting on Twitter and Facebook.
 

So I don’t want this just to be a list of my training each week - it’s boring for you and for me.
 

Anyway, I have something on my mind and want to talk about Metrics. Some runners love them, some hate them.
 

But I’ll start with a quick summary of the week. This was a strong week of running which opened with a 23km long run.
 

I racked up a few decent runs to work and back and had my best ever interval session on the treadmill on Thursday. I’m able to hold higher speeds for longer and still have a strong ‘cool down’.
 

But on to metrics. One thing that is very important, in my career as well running, is to make the important measurable rather than making the measurable important and I think that is something people get wrong in all walks of life.
 

As I finished my treadmill run on Friday I knew that 8 - 10 more minutes more could have brought me above 50 miles training for the week and I was tempted. But to me that extra distance would have just been ‘junk miles’ - running with no purpose my run that day was just a gentle session aimed at getting my legs moving and then doing some stretching..

I will bust a gut to stick to numerical targets in long runs (ie distance covered) or in intervals (how long you hold a threshold split) but when it comes to adding a bit here or there to meet a notional target that might sounds important I can’t see the point.

We have so many ways of measuring these days with GPS watches and heart rate monitors but we need to save them for the quality runs and I think I’ll stick to my plan of making the important measurable.
 

But this week also showed me that I need not to think of measuring as something to do during and before my runs, I also need to do a bit more planning planning in my long runs.
 

I am keen to keep increasing my long runs by a few kilometres each week to make the step-up natural. But this week I got close to home and realised that I was going to come in at the same distance as the previous week.
 

I soon learned that adding distance to the end of a run is difficult - it’s hard not to retrace your steps and psychologically it’s difficult running past your house and back again and I found myself checking my watch far too frequently - what felt like a kilometres during out to be 250 metres and it took the pleasure out of the previous 20km.
 

I ended up with a good run but a more important lesson learned.

Top 10 Bugbears in Running.

My posts for the past three weeks have mostly been focussed on the details of my training. But now I’m into Week Three the extra miles have made me tired and grumpy so it’s time to post my Top 10 Bugbears in Running.

10. Headphone zombies: Walking to work is good exercise; music is motivational. I realise it smooths the commute if you can tune in when you walk but, for the love of all that is holy, try to walk in a straight line and don’t scream when someone overtakes you and wrenches you from the little bubble that you’ve been existing in for the past five minutes.

9. Bleeping watches: I had to run four miles of the Highworth 5 next to someone who had clearly been over ambitious when setting their virtual race partner. This meant their watch was blaring out “TOO SLOW, TOO SLOW, TOO SLOW” beeps every five seconds. The runner couldn’t hear though - they had headphones in so it was only the rest of us that had to suffer.

8. Overtakers who cut in: In a race it’s usually a sign they’re regretting the overtake already but still you nearly end up in a faceplant and have to check your stride. Here’s a thought: Overtake, do a shoulder check and then, if you are clear of the person you are overtaking, move back inside.

7. ‘Amusing’ revealing costumes: It seemed a good idea to put on that mankini or French maid’s outfit didn’t it? But now’s it’s cold, and you’re paranoid the crowds are laughing at your bits, and your fellow runners are sick of watching your wobbling, hairy buttocks. Think it through people, think it through.

6. Smug ultrarunners: We get it, you’ve ‘run’ 50 miles or maybe more but do you have to belittle everyone else’s achievements? “A marathon? That’s a sprint to to me”, “I don’t get out of bed for a 10km”. It’s horses for (running) courses Smugo and, yes we do all experience schadenfreude every time you post on Facebook to say you ‘got pulled out’ at 70 miles and failed to finish again.

5. Faddists: “No-one who knows anything about running wears shoes with thick soles (AKA “I’ve read Born To Run in the past five months), “Road running just means you're a sheep and a slave to the corporate machine (AKA “I’ve read Run Wild in the past five months). They’re great books and the authors are passionate advocates for specific lifestyles but when we see you limping along in your Vibram Five Fingers or wading through mud with sheer misery on your face just so you can ‘be part of the movement’, we generally feel pity. And we titter. A bit. On the inside. And sometimes on the outside a little too.

This actually is me. But only for illustrative purposes

4. Runners’ selfies: Do we have to see a picture of you every time you leave the house with running gear on? You’re not fooling anyone you know, we all suspect that it's just for show.

3. Triathlon runs: I love Triathlon and I love the fact that because I am a rubbish swimmer and average cyclist I spend most of my run flowing past people. But they’re never the right distance. The 5km run at Blenheim Triathlon is 5.4km and the 10km at London Triathlon is (or at least was) 9.4km. I can see a bike route is hard to get spot-on but when its a multi-lap run just sort it out will you? Thanks.

2.Supposed to be 10: But can't think of any more because

1. Running is AWESOME

Week Two: Finding a dead body and overcoming challenges

I thought I had found a case for Morse and his sidekick Lewis

After the euphoria of the first week of training, the nagging self-doubt in my brain expected a crash - a yang to my ying, a cloud to my silver lining.

Day one on Sunday felt anything but a good start as my 6.45 alarm pierced a hangover. We’d been at our friends’ house the night before and all of my pre-event promises of ‘I’m in training’ melted away and by midnight I was well-oiled. Not ‘lashed’ you understand but beyond what is sensible for what lay ahead.

But I dragged myself out of bed, switched on the head torch and lumbered out. The mild nausea and general shabby feeling was quickly forgotten as 2km in I spotted a body in a ditch.

Having been a news journalist for 15 years and an aficionado of Inpsector Morse it felt like a moment I had been expecting for a long time and I had to take long, deep breaths to summon the steel I needed to walk over.

My heart was beating so fast I felt dizzy as I rolled the corpse over. The shock of seeing the head loll to one side was a fierce but short-lived flame as I realised it was a scarecrow. We had very high winds the day before and it must have been blown from the field nearby.

No-one saw me make a huge fool of myself but it perked me up a treat and I resumed the run at a much higher pace. It was another lovely long run mixing roads with some trail running around Boars Hill - one of the few high spots in the disappointingly flat county of Oxfordshire.

After an hour my pace slowed and I realised that this was going to be a long, steady run as a night of beer and wine and too-little sleep does not make ideal prep. Still, I enjoyed it and started the week with a solid 20km under my belt.

My plan had been to run home from work on the Monday. But as I sat at my desk and looked at the pouring rain and strong winds I thought again. I was sure that I could make up the mileage on another day.

But then the realisation hit me that this was what I always told myself. I always give myself an ‘out’ - an excuse not to run, not to hit the peaks of training that you need to scale if you are to reach your potential. I remembered the words of champion ultrarunner Scott Jurek in his book Eat and Run: “Sometimes you just do things”, and it was enough; on went the headtorch and off I set.

It’s 13.9km to run home from work and I enjoyed most of it. My resilience as a runner is increasing every week and I recover more quickly than ever before but the last three km were tough. High winds, cold rain and stiff calves made it tough going but meant that I felt all the more smug when I got home.

I stiffened up a treat that night but, with my bike stuck at work, had no choice but to run back to work in the morning (which had always been my plan anyway). I backed off the pace and made it a very enjoyable and easy run.

I wanted to put in an interval session at the lunchtime but my mind was completely split. Am I risking injury? Am I doing too much too soon? But my thoughts went back to Jurek and I headed to the gym for my second run of the day.

I don’t always love treadmills but when its cold and raining, just slinging on some headphones and smashing out some high pace can be satisfying. I kept it short and sweet and only ran 4km but still managed four, one-minute intervals of very high pace. I made sure I did 20 minutes stretching and, safe in the knowledge that Wednesday was a rest day, was pleased that just three days into the week I had amassed nearly 38 km including a long run and an interval session.

I had a training course on the Thursday so couldn’t sneak off at lunchtime and I had a squash in the evening so couldn’t run when I got home so didn’t want to run in to work on the Friday morning. But, buoyed by the news that I will be running alongside Paula Radcliffe in the London Marathon, I decided to run home, play squash in the evening and then drive to work in the morning.

I was so badly beaten by my 64-year-old opponent in the squash match that needn’t have worried too much - I barely broke a sweat. My legs felt a bit heavy but I was beaten on skills (ie I have none vs he has lots) so the training could not be blamed.

Driving in on the Friday was a novelty ( I usually cycle every day) but I was pleased that I had managed to find a solution. I went eyeballs-out (runners’ speak for maximum effort) on the treadmill at lunchtime and finished the week on a real high.

I ran a total of 45.8miles (73.7km) this week which makes me feel like I might be becoming a ‘proper runner’. But even more satisfying was the way my training plan was challenged but I found a solution.

Taking the easy way out has been a bit of a recurrent theme in my life. Maybe it’s time for a change.