I had an excellent start to my day today.
This morning I ran four and a half miles, and my ankle didn't give out or die on me, and it's still OK nine hours later. This means I can definitely do race number five next weekend!
I'm so relieved, I was really worried about this one.
To be honest, it's still a bit nerve racking - the current plan is a half-marathon, that's thirteen and a bit miles, and I've never run that distance EVER.
But you know what, it's OK. Even if it takes me all day to get round the course it's fine, all that matters is I finish.
Wish me luck.
Sunday, 12 July 2009
Thursday, 2 July 2009
On A Series Of Firsts
This post is a bit of a mongrel - partly it's going to be a report on the last race, very late for reasons which may become clear; partly it's looking back on everything I've done so far, and partly it's a preview of the final two races.
The last four months have been a series of firsts for me, most of which I'm proud of, and a few which are not so positive. First the good:
In March I ran my first ever competitive race, the Brooklands 10K, and beat my target time comfortably.
In April I took part in my first ever multi-discipline race, the Dunsfold Duathlon, five laps of the Top Gear test track on foot and bike.
May saw me run my first 10 mile race, a distance not long ago I would never have considered.
Most recently, in June I competed in my first triathlon, the AXLR8 Triathlon at Wellington College in Crowthorne. So far, so good, but this is where it starts going wrong.
The AXLR8 Triathlon was the first race where I failed to beat my target time. More seriously it's where I had my first injury.
It started well. I got there in plenty of time, set up my transition zone and had time to warm up. I had all the kit I needed, but for some reason I just didn't feel confident. I was more nervous about this race than I had been about any of the others, with the possible exception of the first one.
For the swim I was paired with a chap who said he was only there because he'd missed the registration for a half-Ironman. You can find details of what a half-Ironman involves elsewhere, suffice to say it's impressive.
We thought we were probably fairly evenly matched on the swim for speed, so he started half a length ahead of me. I overtook him on the second length, and in the end finished a clear length ahead of him. My technique was rubbish, but it turns out I'm a pretty competitive swimmer over that short distance.
Out of the pool, into the transition area. I towelled down a bit, struggled into my CA polo shirt, blister-proof socks and trainers, on with helmet, gloves and shades, grabbed bike and ran for the exit.
It took me ages to get my feet into the toe-clips, but eventually I was off. As this is my first cycle race on open roads I was cautious to start with, but I'm a reasonably strong cyclist so I set off well.
The 17km figure of eight course was over nice quiet roads, well signposted and marshaled. The roads were mostly good, but there were a few surprisingly tough hills which slowed it down. I did pretty well, I think - I overtook more people than overtook me.
In the gym I'll normally do this sort of distance in just over 30 minutes, but I was looking at 48 minutes in total by the time I got back to the transition. That put me eight minutes behind my schedule, and made me worry if I was going to be able to make it in the 75 minute target. Jo said that everyone was coming in complaining that the ride took longer than they expected, but I was still worried.
Running was always going to be the weakest of the three disciplines for me. This 5km course was short enough that I knew I could do it without too much trouble, but I had little confidence in being able to do it fast enough to make up time lost on the cycle. Worst of all though, it quickly revealed the limitations of doing most of my training in the gym and on even tarmac paths.
The course set off through the trees at the back of the college, and into the woods. Before the woods was a short gravel path, with treacherous tree roots pushing through. It was one of these that tripped me barely 500 metres into the run.
I went down into the gravel, grazing the palms of my hands and jarring my shoulder. The guy behind me helped me up and asked if I was OK. I thanked him and set off again, trying to shrug off the pain in my shoulder and feeling even more dispirited.
I kept pace with my new friend, only dropping behind him a little way for the next kilometre and a half. The terrain got increasingly difficult, this was obviously not a regularly jogged path, too narrow and uneven, more suitable for dog-walking than running. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, not wanting to push too hard this early in the course.
It was literally right in from of the 2km sign that disaster struck. A woman who had been ahead stepped off the path to allow first my new friend and then me to pass. I looked up from my feet to say 'thanks', and my left foot slipped off the edge of the path - I went over on my ankle, turning it over and outwards with a loud crack and a shout of pain as my full weight came down on it.
For the second time I hit the ground, but I instantly knew this time it was serious. Anyone who knows me knows that I have pretty noisy joints - I crack my knuckles, my neck clicks in a way that makes my work colleagues grimace, and my ankles sound like castanets when I walk up stairs. This sound was worse than all of that, but even now I'm not sure if anyone but me could have heard it.
I waited for a what felt like a long time before the pain subsided enough for me to try and stand up. All the while the stubborn idiot in my brain was saying "get up, you're losing time, you've got to finish!" I stood up straight, and put my weight carefully on my left foot, as much to prove that it wasn't serious as anything. I waved the now very concerned fellow competitor off ahead, and started again at a careful half-speed. I was determined that this was just a twisted ankle, nothing serious, and although I was going to be slow I was still going to finish.
I soon came to a marshal who was coming back to find me, having been alerted by the woman ahead of me. With blase confidence I told him it was just a mild twist, and I was going to finish one way or another. It's only three kilometres, and the alternative is walking back for two and failing. No contest.
Yes, it was pig-headed and stupid, but I don't regret it.
I hobbled on, sometimes jogging with a weird lop-sided gait, sometimes walking when the pain got too much. As I got closer to the finish I was gradually admitting to myself that it was more serious than 'a mild twist.'
In the end I literally limped over the line, in the official photos I think you can see the pain on my face. I didn't matter, all I cared about was finishing, getting over that line under my own power. Here's those photos.
When I got there, Jo helped me limp to the first-aiders in their ambulance. The paramedic clearly thought I was an idiot for carrying on. I didn't have the energy to argue and just let her get on with it. She put an ice pack on my ankle to try and bring down the swelling. By that it was probably twice the thickness of the other one, and was rapidly turning an attractive yellowish colour.
I thought she was joking when she said I had to go to A&E for an X-ray, but quickly I realised she wasn't. She said it was a severe sprain, and there was a chance I'd broken a bone. Not good news. By this time the adrenalin and endorphins were wearing off, and I was starting to feel sick and a bit light-headed. It was also starting to properly hurt, but I didn't really believe her.
After Jo had a brief argument with a marshal and the race organiser about collecting my bike and kit, she drove me and my strapped-up foot to the hospital. The wait there was shorter than I expected, but longer than I hoped. I felt vaguely offended to be sent to Minor Injuries by the triage nurse, it really didn't feel minor, but I suppose compared to a car crash and all the other things you see on Casualty it was.
The doctor was nice, she said she thought it was just a sprain but I might have cracked my fibula so I needed an X-ray. That was quick and painless, so after a short wait I was given the all clear to go home and given specific dispensation to drink beer. That made me feel much better.
After two days of ice and elevating my foot, the swelling had gone down enough that I was walking more or less normally. The doctor's advice and my research (isn't the internet amazing?) led me to select an active recovery plan. I eschewed strapping my ankle after the first day, because this gives too much support and therefore impedes the healing process - you need to walk as normally as possible and build strength in the ligaments and supporting muscles as they heal. I think this has meant that the healing has been slower though - I was only able to put on my normal work shoes a few days ago, and it's still slightly swollen and discoloured.
I'm not ashamed to say that I am worried about the next race. I had five weeks to recover and prepare, that's now down to two weeks, and I'm still not sure if I'll be ready. I really don't want to miss one of my six races for anything, but I can't risk permanently injuring myself either. I'm planning on doing a half-marathon, my first of course, but thirteen miles is a long way to go on an injured ankle.
Today was another first - the first proper training session I've done since the fall. This was a low impact session. I strapped up my ankle with a sports support and started with ten minutes on the cross trainer. That felt OK, so I moved on to ten minutes fast walking, getting up to about 7kph. The ankle was feeling OK, a little bit of discomfort, but no pain.
I then tried five minutes of slow jogging, up to 8kph. I'm lopsided, but moving. 8kph is slow, but it's not far off where I started training in January. That goes to show how far I've come this year!
Finally I went for a cycle, 15km in 27 and a bit minutes, a good time. Cycling may be my saviour in this, I can use it to keep my strength and fitness up without stressing the injured joint. I've joined a "Tour de France" challenge in the gym - 210km over the course of the month in the yellow jersey division - I'm feeling confident.
I've now been back at my desk for several hours. I dosed up on ibuprofen as a precaution, but my ankle doesn't hurt and is no more swollen than normal. Obviously I'm going to keep being careful, but I'm getting more confident about this half-marathon. After all, I don't have to do it fast, just finish! Even so, with only two weeks to go, it's far from a sure thing. Stay tuned...
Looking ahead to August, to finish off my six months of racing I'm doing a long bike ride, something like 100km in a day. The "Tour de France" will be good training! Do you want to come along and do all or some of the trip with me? Even if you only join me for the last 10km, I'd really appreciate it.
Finally, another attempt to get you to visit my sponsorship site and donate some cash to the CA. It's a really good cause and you'll feel good about it all day long. Besides, I'm not putting myself through all this just for fun you know!
So go to https://www.bmycharity.com/V2/60kmtoLourdes right now!
To paraphrase Sir Bob: "Give us yer bloomin money!"*
*Edited for a family audience, rated U for mild peril and irish hairstyles.
The last four months have been a series of firsts for me, most of which I'm proud of, and a few which are not so positive. First the good:
In March I ran my first ever competitive race, the Brooklands 10K, and beat my target time comfortably.
In April I took part in my first ever multi-discipline race, the Dunsfold Duathlon, five laps of the Top Gear test track on foot and bike.
May saw me run my first 10 mile race, a distance not long ago I would never have considered.
Most recently, in June I competed in my first triathlon, the AXLR8 Triathlon at Wellington College in Crowthorne. So far, so good, but this is where it starts going wrong.
The AXLR8 Triathlon was the first race where I failed to beat my target time. More seriously it's where I had my first injury.
It started well. I got there in plenty of time, set up my transition zone and had time to warm up. I had all the kit I needed, but for some reason I just didn't feel confident. I was more nervous about this race than I had been about any of the others, with the possible exception of the first one.
For the swim I was paired with a chap who said he was only there because he'd missed the registration for a half-Ironman. You can find details of what a half-Ironman involves elsewhere, suffice to say it's impressive.
We thought we were probably fairly evenly matched on the swim for speed, so he started half a length ahead of me. I overtook him on the second length, and in the end finished a clear length ahead of him. My technique was rubbish, but it turns out I'm a pretty competitive swimmer over that short distance.
Out of the pool, into the transition area. I towelled down a bit, struggled into my CA polo shirt, blister-proof socks and trainers, on with helmet, gloves and shades, grabbed bike and ran for the exit.
It took me ages to get my feet into the toe-clips, but eventually I was off. As this is my first cycle race on open roads I was cautious to start with, but I'm a reasonably strong cyclist so I set off well.
The 17km figure of eight course was over nice quiet roads, well signposted and marshaled. The roads were mostly good, but there were a few surprisingly tough hills which slowed it down. I did pretty well, I think - I overtook more people than overtook me.
In the gym I'll normally do this sort of distance in just over 30 minutes, but I was looking at 48 minutes in total by the time I got back to the transition. That put me eight minutes behind my schedule, and made me worry if I was going to be able to make it in the 75 minute target. Jo said that everyone was coming in complaining that the ride took longer than they expected, but I was still worried.
Running was always going to be the weakest of the three disciplines for me. This 5km course was short enough that I knew I could do it without too much trouble, but I had little confidence in being able to do it fast enough to make up time lost on the cycle. Worst of all though, it quickly revealed the limitations of doing most of my training in the gym and on even tarmac paths.
The course set off through the trees at the back of the college, and into the woods. Before the woods was a short gravel path, with treacherous tree roots pushing through. It was one of these that tripped me barely 500 metres into the run.
I went down into the gravel, grazing the palms of my hands and jarring my shoulder. The guy behind me helped me up and asked if I was OK. I thanked him and set off again, trying to shrug off the pain in my shoulder and feeling even more dispirited.
I kept pace with my new friend, only dropping behind him a little way for the next kilometre and a half. The terrain got increasingly difficult, this was obviously not a regularly jogged path, too narrow and uneven, more suitable for dog-walking than running. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, not wanting to push too hard this early in the course.
It was literally right in from of the 2km sign that disaster struck. A woman who had been ahead stepped off the path to allow first my new friend and then me to pass. I looked up from my feet to say 'thanks', and my left foot slipped off the edge of the path - I went over on my ankle, turning it over and outwards with a loud crack and a shout of pain as my full weight came down on it.
For the second time I hit the ground, but I instantly knew this time it was serious. Anyone who knows me knows that I have pretty noisy joints - I crack my knuckles, my neck clicks in a way that makes my work colleagues grimace, and my ankles sound like castanets when I walk up stairs. This sound was worse than all of that, but even now I'm not sure if anyone but me could have heard it.
I waited for a what felt like a long time before the pain subsided enough for me to try and stand up. All the while the stubborn idiot in my brain was saying "get up, you're losing time, you've got to finish!" I stood up straight, and put my weight carefully on my left foot, as much to prove that it wasn't serious as anything. I waved the now very concerned fellow competitor off ahead, and started again at a careful half-speed. I was determined that this was just a twisted ankle, nothing serious, and although I was going to be slow I was still going to finish.
I soon came to a marshal who was coming back to find me, having been alerted by the woman ahead of me. With blase confidence I told him it was just a mild twist, and I was going to finish one way or another. It's only three kilometres, and the alternative is walking back for two and failing. No contest.
Yes, it was pig-headed and stupid, but I don't regret it.
I hobbled on, sometimes jogging with a weird lop-sided gait, sometimes walking when the pain got too much. As I got closer to the finish I was gradually admitting to myself that it was more serious than 'a mild twist.'
In the end I literally limped over the line, in the official photos I think you can see the pain on my face. I didn't matter, all I cared about was finishing, getting over that line under my own power. Here's those photos.
When I got there, Jo helped me limp to the first-aiders in their ambulance. The paramedic clearly thought I was an idiot for carrying on. I didn't have the energy to argue and just let her get on with it. She put an ice pack on my ankle to try and bring down the swelling. By that it was probably twice the thickness of the other one, and was rapidly turning an attractive yellowish colour.
I thought she was joking when she said I had to go to A&E for an X-ray, but quickly I realised she wasn't. She said it was a severe sprain, and there was a chance I'd broken a bone. Not good news. By this time the adrenalin and endorphins were wearing off, and I was starting to feel sick and a bit light-headed. It was also starting to properly hurt, but I didn't really believe her.
After Jo had a brief argument with a marshal and the race organiser about collecting my bike and kit, she drove me and my strapped-up foot to the hospital. The wait there was shorter than I expected, but longer than I hoped. I felt vaguely offended to be sent to Minor Injuries by the triage nurse, it really didn't feel minor, but I suppose compared to a car crash and all the other things you see on Casualty it was.
The doctor was nice, she said she thought it was just a sprain but I might have cracked my fibula so I needed an X-ray. That was quick and painless, so after a short wait I was given the all clear to go home and given specific dispensation to drink beer. That made me feel much better.
After two days of ice and elevating my foot, the swelling had gone down enough that I was walking more or less normally. The doctor's advice and my research (isn't the internet amazing?) led me to select an active recovery plan. I eschewed strapping my ankle after the first day, because this gives too much support and therefore impedes the healing process - you need to walk as normally as possible and build strength in the ligaments and supporting muscles as they heal. I think this has meant that the healing has been slower though - I was only able to put on my normal work shoes a few days ago, and it's still slightly swollen and discoloured.
I'm not ashamed to say that I am worried about the next race. I had five weeks to recover and prepare, that's now down to two weeks, and I'm still not sure if I'll be ready. I really don't want to miss one of my six races for anything, but I can't risk permanently injuring myself either. I'm planning on doing a half-marathon, my first of course, but thirteen miles is a long way to go on an injured ankle.
Today was another first - the first proper training session I've done since the fall. This was a low impact session. I strapped up my ankle with a sports support and started with ten minutes on the cross trainer. That felt OK, so I moved on to ten minutes fast walking, getting up to about 7kph. The ankle was feeling OK, a little bit of discomfort, but no pain.
I then tried five minutes of slow jogging, up to 8kph. I'm lopsided, but moving. 8kph is slow, but it's not far off where I started training in January. That goes to show how far I've come this year!
Finally I went for a cycle, 15km in 27 and a bit minutes, a good time. Cycling may be my saviour in this, I can use it to keep my strength and fitness up without stressing the injured joint. I've joined a "Tour de France" challenge in the gym - 210km over the course of the month in the yellow jersey division - I'm feeling confident.
I've now been back at my desk for several hours. I dosed up on ibuprofen as a precaution, but my ankle doesn't hurt and is no more swollen than normal. Obviously I'm going to keep being careful, but I'm getting more confident about this half-marathon. After all, I don't have to do it fast, just finish! Even so, with only two weeks to go, it's far from a sure thing. Stay tuned...
Looking ahead to August, to finish off my six months of racing I'm doing a long bike ride, something like 100km in a day. The "Tour de France" will be good training! Do you want to come along and do all or some of the trip with me? Even if you only join me for the last 10km, I'd really appreciate it.
Finally, another attempt to get you to visit my sponsorship site and donate some cash to the CA. It's a really good cause and you'll feel good about it all day long. Besides, I'm not putting myself through all this just for fun you know!
So go to https://www.bmycharity.com/V2/60kmtoLourdes right now!
To paraphrase Sir Bob: "Give us yer bloomin money!"*
*Edited for a family audience, rated U for mild peril and irish hairstyles.
Monday, 8 June 2009
The Horror of the Tri-Pants!
OK, here I am, six days before my first ever triathlon, and there's been a mixture of good and bad news over the last week.
Bad News: a triathlon magazine I bought made a big deal about practising the transitions, the bit where you change from swim to bike or bike to run. Almost all their advice was irrelevant or scary, full of stuff like clipping your cycling shoes to the pedals. I don't even have cycling shoes! I'm just going to muddle through, and hopefully not lose too much time.
Good News: I'm scheduled to start the race at 8:45. That's still early, but a major improvement on the 7:00 kick-off listed on the website!
Then we get on to the tri-pants. Most of you will probably never have heard of these things. Sadly, it is my job to expose you to this horror. The faint of heart should stop reading now.
There is a basic problem with the triathlon - you start off swimming, and therefore wet. The reason for this is very sensible - you do the swim first because if you did it at the end there's too much of a risk of getting cramp and drowning. Fair enough. The downside remains that you then have to get out of the pool/lake/river and get on a bike. Cycling or running in speedos is not my idea of fun, and getting changed in the transition is difficult to say the least.
Some bright spark therefore came up with the idea of a triathlon suit or tri-suit, and it's derivative the tri-pants. Basically, the idea behind a tri-suit is you don't have to change at all, you do the whole race in one costume that is swim-suit, cycling bib and running leotard all in one. Given that the last time I wore a wetsuit someone said I looked like a pig in a sock (Thanks Huw), that is not an attractive option to me.
Tri-pants are similar, they're cycling shorts, only made of swim-suit material, and with a quick drying material for the padding.
The tri-pants are acceptable - when I get out of the pool I can pull on a normal T-shirt (my CA polo-shirt, natch) and not look quite so much like a pervert. They're still not pretty though. When they were delivered, the OH was barely able to keep a straight face and made some very unhelpful comments I won't repeat here. Suffice to say they're skin-tight when dry, and no better when wet. They're not as bad as speedos though, thank god.
The good news side of this is they are definitely faster in the water. Compared to the relatively baggy Baywatch-style shorts I was wearing before now, the streamlining makes an obvious difference. It's hard to be accurate, as I'm getting better at swimming as I practice, but I reckon they could be shaving something like 10% off my time in the pool!
Anyway, This week I'm winding down before the race, taking it relatively easy. The race itself is 200m swimming in a pool, 17km cycling, then a 5km run at the end. My target is under 1 hour 15 minutes, although I'll be heavily reliant on how the transitions are set up as to whether I manage that.
In July I'll be running the High Wycombe Half Marathon. I haven't run that far yet, but I figure I'll have a whole month to train, so no problem!
There aren't that many races in August so instead I'll be doing a long cycle, maybe Southampton or Bournemouth to Woking. I'd really like as many of you as possible to come along join me for that, either to do the whole distance, a small part of it, run "support" from a car or just come to my house for the party afterwards. I know there's a few keen cyclists among you, and more than a few lunatics who enjoy a challenge, so what are you waiting for? The pace won't be too hard, and it'll be a great pre-Lourdes get together, so let me know you're interested.
Finally, one more reminder to pledge money at https://www.bmycharity.com/V2/60kmtoLourdes
Bad News: a triathlon magazine I bought made a big deal about practising the transitions, the bit where you change from swim to bike or bike to run. Almost all their advice was irrelevant or scary, full of stuff like clipping your cycling shoes to the pedals. I don't even have cycling shoes! I'm just going to muddle through, and hopefully not lose too much time.
Good News: I'm scheduled to start the race at 8:45. That's still early, but a major improvement on the 7:00 kick-off listed on the website!
Then we get on to the tri-pants. Most of you will probably never have heard of these things. Sadly, it is my job to expose you to this horror. The faint of heart should stop reading now.
There is a basic problem with the triathlon - you start off swimming, and therefore wet. The reason for this is very sensible - you do the swim first because if you did it at the end there's too much of a risk of getting cramp and drowning. Fair enough. The downside remains that you then have to get out of the pool/lake/river and get on a bike. Cycling or running in speedos is not my idea of fun, and getting changed in the transition is difficult to say the least.
Some bright spark therefore came up with the idea of a triathlon suit or tri-suit, and it's derivative the tri-pants. Basically, the idea behind a tri-suit is you don't have to change at all, you do the whole race in one costume that is swim-suit, cycling bib and running leotard all in one. Given that the last time I wore a wetsuit someone said I looked like a pig in a sock (Thanks Huw), that is not an attractive option to me.
Tri-pants are similar, they're cycling shorts, only made of swim-suit material, and with a quick drying material for the padding.
The tri-pants are acceptable - when I get out of the pool I can pull on a normal T-shirt (my CA polo-shirt, natch) and not look quite so much like a pervert. They're still not pretty though. When they were delivered, the OH was barely able to keep a straight face and made some very unhelpful comments I won't repeat here. Suffice to say they're skin-tight when dry, and no better when wet. They're not as bad as speedos though, thank god.
The good news side of this is they are definitely faster in the water. Compared to the relatively baggy Baywatch-style shorts I was wearing before now, the streamlining makes an obvious difference. It's hard to be accurate, as I'm getting better at swimming as I practice, but I reckon they could be shaving something like 10% off my time in the pool!
Anyway, This week I'm winding down before the race, taking it relatively easy. The race itself is 200m swimming in a pool, 17km cycling, then a 5km run at the end. My target is under 1 hour 15 minutes, although I'll be heavily reliant on how the transitions are set up as to whether I manage that.
In July I'll be running the High Wycombe Half Marathon. I haven't run that far yet, but I figure I'll have a whole month to train, so no problem!
There aren't that many races in August so instead I'll be doing a long cycle, maybe Southampton or Bournemouth to Woking. I'd really like as many of you as possible to come along join me for that, either to do the whole distance, a small part of it, run "support" from a car or just come to my house for the party afterwards. I know there's a few keen cyclists among you, and more than a few lunatics who enjoy a challenge, so what are you waiting for? The pace won't be too hard, and it'll be a great pre-Lourdes get together, so let me know you're interested.
Finally, one more reminder to pledge money at https://www.bmycharity.com/V2/60kmtoLourdes
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Report: Race Three - The Hook 10 Mile Road Race
Two days later and I've just about recovered enough to write this report!
On Sunday I ran in the ten mile race that was part of the Hook Fun Run and Road Race, in Hook, Hampshire. As well as the ten mile race there was a six mile race, a 2.5 mile race and a 2.5 mile fun run, so it was well attended by a wide range of people of many different abilities from all over the country.
I was aiming for a time under 1 hour 40 minutes. My only previous attempt at this distance in a training run took me 1 hour 48 minutes, so this represented a pretty significant improvement, but at the same time was something I thought was pretty achievable if I worked hard. Training hadn't been going well for a lot of this last month though, so it definitely did not feel like a sure thing.
As usual JoJo sacrificed her lie-in to drive me to the race. The morning dawned soggy, and quickly graduated to Welsh levels of rain. I began to regret scheduling a BBQ for after the race, I had obviously cursed it. I was equipped with a heart rate monitor and music player this time - running alone again I decided these would be helpful. The music player staves off boredom, helps maintain a good rhythm and hitting the right track at the right time gives you a little boost of energy - purely psychological, but it feels real. The heart rate monitor was there so I could watch my progress and make sure I was working hard but not so hard I'd exhaust myself before the end. I was aiming to stay between 170 and 180 BPM for the majority of the race, definitely not above 185 until the last two miles, for those of you into the numbers. And of course I ran in the CA blue polo shirt! As we drove to Hook the skies cleared - my luck with the weather held out for another race!
The race regulations said everyone had to finish in under 1 hour 45 minutes on the advice of the police. That confused me, until I was out on the A and B roads and realised just what a big event something like this is to organise. The organisers and police had to partially close some very busy roads, manually hold and direct traffic and do their best to ensure the safety of all the runners, without causing complete chaos! They obviously decided that an hour and three-quarters was quite enough, and I can't blame them. If you were one of the drivers trying to get somewhere on Sunday who was held up by our race, then I'm sincerely sorry.
Around the 10 mile route there were more water stops than any other race I've done so far, all staffed by smiling volunteers. And bear in mind there were another three races at the same time as mine! Whoever organised this did a great job.
Hook is a pretty little town, and the race route took us through several of the nearby villages, with lots of locals out on the pavements and greens or leaning over fences to cheer us runners on and applaud as we went past - even people like me who were so far back they must have been waiting ages for us to pass! You see it on TV and it looks a bit odd sometimes, but when you're out running you really appreciate the support from total strangers. So what if many of them are thinking "rather you than me!". Believe me, you're grateful anything that helps you keep putting one foot in front of the other!
I didn't have much of a strategy for this race - maybe when I've done a few more races I'll be able to start thinking about strategy, for now, it's mainly survival. However, I can do maths, and that's something to do to help split the run up into manageable portions. I completely missed the first two mile markers, so I was pleased when I hit the three mile mark after 25 minutes. That equated to 8:20 per mile, way faster than I usually run. That was good to know, but I knew it wasn't sustainable: 1 hour 40 is about 10 minutes per mile. I decided to try and stick to 9 minutes per mile for as long as possible.
Four miles came round - just under 34 minutes. Excellent, maybe this 9 minute mile was something I could stick to! I don't care if someone's granny just out-powered me up that last hill, just keep going. Five miles rolled round in at 43 minutes. Briefly it occurred to me that this was further than I could run a few months ago, and I was only half-way...
Six miles. Hang on, that's almost 10K - check time - 51 minutes. That meant I was faster than my first 10K race back in March at Brooklands! Seven miles crept up, this time just over 9 minutes. My legs were aching, and I now understand why running on roads is different from running on a treadmill. On a treadmill you don't have to balance on different surfaces, skip around puddles, dodge your fellow racers, change direction... Road running uses more and different muscles, and at race pace you use them all more intensely.
I think I zoned out a bit at this point. It was a very boring long stretch of A road, some dual carriageway, I was passed by quite a few runners and started falling behind someone I'd been following for most of the race.
Suddenly, 8 Miles - I've slipped, that last mile took nearly 11 minutes. OK, it's fine, still ahead of my goal, and you expect to slow down as the race progresses and you get tired. But this is the last stretch, a repeat of the loop through the industrial estate from the start of the race, then down through Hook from the north and back to the school. I could visualise most of this section, and I knew I had to crank up the effort. Nine miles came up and I was back on schedule.
The last mile: you know you have to give it everything, but there's not much left in the tank, and a mile is actually quite a long way. 800 metres - half a mile. Two women who've been behind me till now decide this is where they put on a burst of speed, but I just can't. This last bit is through small residential roads leading to Hook Schools, and the finish line is in the playground. I find some energy, and manage to keep them in reach. 400 metres to go - I know I'm almost there, so I kick off and put on a burst of speed. As I overtake the runners around me it feels amazing. I look around as I come into the school and there's no-one near me. Part of me wants to look around for my family who came out to see me finish, but I know that I have to concentrate, keep the speed up, every step takes focus to drive me forward and not slow down. The big yellow numbers on the digital clock seems to expand to fill my vision, and I cross the line at 1 hour 29 minutes and 2 seconds.
Official results are here: www.hookfunrun.com
Next month it's a triathlon. Details to be confirmed on the last two races in July and August. If you want to join me on one of these races then I'd love to have you along, drop me an email, leave a comment, or give me a call or text.
And please remember to go donate money at www.bmycharity.com/V2/60kmtoLourdes
On Sunday I ran in the ten mile race that was part of the Hook Fun Run and Road Race, in Hook, Hampshire. As well as the ten mile race there was a six mile race, a 2.5 mile race and a 2.5 mile fun run, so it was well attended by a wide range of people of many different abilities from all over the country.
I was aiming for a time under 1 hour 40 minutes. My only previous attempt at this distance in a training run took me 1 hour 48 minutes, so this represented a pretty significant improvement, but at the same time was something I thought was pretty achievable if I worked hard. Training hadn't been going well for a lot of this last month though, so it definitely did not feel like a sure thing.
As usual JoJo sacrificed her lie-in to drive me to the race. The morning dawned soggy, and quickly graduated to Welsh levels of rain. I began to regret scheduling a BBQ for after the race, I had obviously cursed it. I was equipped with a heart rate monitor and music player this time - running alone again I decided these would be helpful. The music player staves off boredom, helps maintain a good rhythm and hitting the right track at the right time gives you a little boost of energy - purely psychological, but it feels real. The heart rate monitor was there so I could watch my progress and make sure I was working hard but not so hard I'd exhaust myself before the end. I was aiming to stay between 170 and 180 BPM for the majority of the race, definitely not above 185 until the last two miles, for those of you into the numbers. And of course I ran in the CA blue polo shirt! As we drove to Hook the skies cleared - my luck with the weather held out for another race!
The race regulations said everyone had to finish in under 1 hour 45 minutes on the advice of the police. That confused me, until I was out on the A and B roads and realised just what a big event something like this is to organise. The organisers and police had to partially close some very busy roads, manually hold and direct traffic and do their best to ensure the safety of all the runners, without causing complete chaos! They obviously decided that an hour and three-quarters was quite enough, and I can't blame them. If you were one of the drivers trying to get somewhere on Sunday who was held up by our race, then I'm sincerely sorry.
Around the 10 mile route there were more water stops than any other race I've done so far, all staffed by smiling volunteers. And bear in mind there were another three races at the same time as mine! Whoever organised this did a great job.
Hook is a pretty little town, and the race route took us through several of the nearby villages, with lots of locals out on the pavements and greens or leaning over fences to cheer us runners on and applaud as we went past - even people like me who were so far back they must have been waiting ages for us to pass! You see it on TV and it looks a bit odd sometimes, but when you're out running you really appreciate the support from total strangers. So what if many of them are thinking "rather you than me!". Believe me, you're grateful anything that helps you keep putting one foot in front of the other!
I didn't have much of a strategy for this race - maybe when I've done a few more races I'll be able to start thinking about strategy, for now, it's mainly survival. However, I can do maths, and that's something to do to help split the run up into manageable portions. I completely missed the first two mile markers, so I was pleased when I hit the three mile mark after 25 minutes. That equated to 8:20 per mile, way faster than I usually run. That was good to know, but I knew it wasn't sustainable: 1 hour 40 is about 10 minutes per mile. I decided to try and stick to 9 minutes per mile for as long as possible.
Four miles came round - just under 34 minutes. Excellent, maybe this 9 minute mile was something I could stick to! I don't care if someone's granny just out-powered me up that last hill, just keep going. Five miles rolled round in at 43 minutes. Briefly it occurred to me that this was further than I could run a few months ago, and I was only half-way...
Six miles. Hang on, that's almost 10K - check time - 51 minutes. That meant I was faster than my first 10K race back in March at Brooklands! Seven miles crept up, this time just over 9 minutes. My legs were aching, and I now understand why running on roads is different from running on a treadmill. On a treadmill you don't have to balance on different surfaces, skip around puddles, dodge your fellow racers, change direction... Road running uses more and different muscles, and at race pace you use them all more intensely.
I think I zoned out a bit at this point. It was a very boring long stretch of A road, some dual carriageway, I was passed by quite a few runners and started falling behind someone I'd been following for most of the race.
Suddenly, 8 Miles - I've slipped, that last mile took nearly 11 minutes. OK, it's fine, still ahead of my goal, and you expect to slow down as the race progresses and you get tired. But this is the last stretch, a repeat of the loop through the industrial estate from the start of the race, then down through Hook from the north and back to the school. I could visualise most of this section, and I knew I had to crank up the effort. Nine miles came up and I was back on schedule.
The last mile: you know you have to give it everything, but there's not much left in the tank, and a mile is actually quite a long way. 800 metres - half a mile. Two women who've been behind me till now decide this is where they put on a burst of speed, but I just can't. This last bit is through small residential roads leading to Hook Schools, and the finish line is in the playground. I find some energy, and manage to keep them in reach. 400 metres to go - I know I'm almost there, so I kick off and put on a burst of speed. As I overtake the runners around me it feels amazing. I look around as I come into the school and there's no-one near me. Part of me wants to look around for my family who came out to see me finish, but I know that I have to concentrate, keep the speed up, every step takes focus to drive me forward and not slow down. The big yellow numbers on the digital clock seems to expand to fill my vision, and I cross the line at 1 hour 29 minutes and 2 seconds.
Official results are here: www.hookfunrun.com
Next month it's a triathlon. Details to be confirmed on the last two races in July and August. If you want to join me on one of these races then I'd love to have you along, drop me an email, leave a comment, or give me a call or text.
And please remember to go donate money at www.bmycharity.com/V2/60kmtoLourdes
Friday, 8 May 2009
Nine days to go till the 'Hook Ten'
I've got to be honest - my training isn't going well.
I've now got just over a week till the ten mile race, the longest one yet, and I've simply not been doing the miles I need to. I let myself get preoccupied by the idea of the triathlon I'm planning to do next month, so I've been cycling, started swimming and the runs I've been doing are generally around 5K - that's only about a third of the ten miles I'll be doing next week! I've also lost the regular long Saturday morning run with Iain.
As a result my stamina is definitely suffering and I'm running out of time to get it back. I'm sticking to my goal of finishing in 1 hour 40 minutes or less, but this could turn out to be a very painful experience.
I've now got just over a week till the ten mile race, the longest one yet, and I've simply not been doing the miles I need to. I let myself get preoccupied by the idea of the triathlon I'm planning to do next month, so I've been cycling, started swimming and the runs I've been doing are generally around 5K - that's only about a third of the ten miles I'll be doing next week! I've also lost the regular long Saturday morning run with Iain.
As a result my stamina is definitely suffering and I'm running out of time to get it back. I'm sticking to my goal of finishing in 1 hour 40 minutes or less, but this could turn out to be a very painful experience.
Saturday, 2 May 2009
Training update
It's Saturday morning of the May Day Bank Holiday Weekend. I've just been for my normal Saturday run, except while I normally go and run with Iain round Virginia Water Lake, this month Iain's a bit too busy with his wedding preparations, so I'm on my own.
Saturday is my weekly long run, and it's been a few weeks since I last did it - and boy can I tell! I've been concentrating on improving my speed in the gym, so I've only been doing short runs, 5.5K max. Running 10K today by comparison was horrible. I couldn't hit a comfortable pace, so I was running too fast, then having to slow right down to recover, then trying to speed up again for the whole time. In the end it took just over an hour, which is consistent with my previous training runs, but it really hurt! It probably doesn't help that I'm a bit hung over too...
I'm starting swimming from next week too, so I think I'll have to start doing a few more long runs in the evening to keep my stamina up. If anyone's got any tips on training for long distance and speed at the same time please leave me a comment below!
Saturday is my weekly long run, and it's been a few weeks since I last did it - and boy can I tell! I've been concentrating on improving my speed in the gym, so I've only been doing short runs, 5.5K max. Running 10K today by comparison was horrible. I couldn't hit a comfortable pace, so I was running too fast, then having to slow right down to recover, then trying to speed up again for the whole time. In the end it took just over an hour, which is consistent with my previous training runs, but it really hurt! It probably doesn't help that I'm a bit hung over too...
I'm starting swimming from next week too, so I think I'll have to start doing a few more long runs in the evening to keep my stamina up. If anyone's got any tips on training for long distance and speed at the same time please leave me a comment below!
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
Report: Race 2
Welcome to the report on race two - a darn sight more punctual than the last one!
This Sunday just gone I took part in the Dunsfold Duathlon. Billed as a good introduction to Duathlon racing, it consisted of a 4.5 km run, a 15 km cycle, and finished with another 4.5 km run. Both runs were a single lap, while the cycling was three laps around a slightly longer course.
Dunsfold park is an interesting venue to compete at. A private airfield during the working week, it's not easy to find being tucked away in the Surrey countryside down unsignposted lanes. From the moment you drive through the gates there are hints that something more interesting might happen here. Is this the filming location for a popular BBC motoring show? Could be...
We started off near what you could call the turn-in for the "Second to Last Bend" on one of two runways heading roughly North-East, and almost immediately veered away from the well-known test track route to follow a service road. It was here we first saw that our race course was also being used as a driving school. Fortunately the reasonably-priced cars seemed to be keeping their distance, and frankly I had my attention occupied by the race. Without my normal pace-man Iain I was finding it difficult to hit a rhythm, and just had to settle for keeping one of my competitors within sight.
About a third of the way round this first lap an air ambulance decided to land about ten yards from the course. Dramatic enough to be slightly distracting, and impressively loud, but they seemed to be training rather than rescuing anyone I'm pleased to say.
Approaching Chicago, the course pinched together, almost forming a figure of eight. Here is where the slow coaches like me get to see the properly fast people who are already half a kilometre or more ahead. We then ran across some strange rusty red iron plates bolted to the ground (old fuel tanks? missile silos? the Stig's underground home?), then around Hammerhead, past the Follow-Through and you hit the straight back to the start/finish line and the transition station. It's here that you realise that what looks like a very flat course on TV actually has some slopes!
Into the transition area, on with the bike helmet (safety first! plus it's a rule in all these competitions) wheel the bike out and hop on less than gracefully, struggle with the straps on my right pedal, manage to get it sorted before going round Gambon.
Here's where I'm a bit more confident. I know I'm not an Olympic cyclist, but I'm a better cyclist than a runner. I've got the strength, and it's just a matter of keeping the pedals going round and round and try to be in the right gear. Three laps is a good distance, it's enough but not too much. I even got down on the drop handlebars for a couple of patches! Through this leg I'm pleased to say the only people who passed me were the leaders, and they were lapping me. I passed quite a few people, and I think I probably made up a few places I lost during the run.
All too soon the cycling leg was over. Wheel bike into the transition, off with helmet and gloves, out onto the running track again for the final leg. Jo shouts that I'm making good time, which gives me a bit of a boost. And at least this is the last section! My legs aren't feeling as positive as my brain though. They feel like rubber, heavy rubber at that. The wind seems to have picked up, and my only comfort is seeing my fellow competitors are finding it just as difficult, most adopting a kind of waddle as they coax numb muscles into something approaching a jog.
This last leg really was very difficult. It felt like I was going about half the speed I managed on the first run. Just keeping going was a battle, the number of times I wanted to stop and walk was horrible. The weird thing was, I wasn't out of breath, it was purely the dead, aching legs. I don't know how I found the energy to keep going, but I did, and I even passed a few more people (after having been passed by a few at the beginning of this lap, most of whom I'd passed on the bike).
Coming out of the Follow-Through, around the tyre wall (wrong side) and onto the straight towards the finish line. I knew this was where I should put on a bit of speed, and I tried, but I had no idea if it was making any difference. Several people pulled away from me, or passed me. I managed to accelerate a tiny amount and the finish line finally started to get a little bit closer. All I was thinking was I wanted to finish in under 90 minutes to beat my published goal. I had no idea how close I was, and couldn't bear the thought of missing it by a few seconds.
Finally I saw Jo waiting for me, and just further on the finish line with the clock: one hour, twenty something minutes - the rest was a blur. I was going to make it! I crossed the line feeling exhausted and elated at the same time.
Final result: 1:24:00
Official results and photos here.
Two races down, four to go. Dunsfold Duathlon adds 24km, making 34km in total. Come back soon for details of next month's challenge, and please visit my sponsorship site and donate some money!
This Sunday just gone I took part in the Dunsfold Duathlon. Billed as a good introduction to Duathlon racing, it consisted of a 4.5 km run, a 15 km cycle, and finished with another 4.5 km run. Both runs were a single lap, while the cycling was three laps around a slightly longer course.
Dunsfold park is an interesting venue to compete at. A private airfield during the working week, it's not easy to find being tucked away in the Surrey countryside down unsignposted lanes. From the moment you drive through the gates there are hints that something more interesting might happen here. Is this the filming location for a popular BBC motoring show? Could be...
We started off near what you could call the turn-in for the "Second to Last Bend" on one of two runways heading roughly North-East, and almost immediately veered away from the well-known test track route to follow a service road. It was here we first saw that our race course was also being used as a driving school. Fortunately the reasonably-priced cars seemed to be keeping their distance, and frankly I had my attention occupied by the race. Without my normal pace-man Iain I was finding it difficult to hit a rhythm, and just had to settle for keeping one of my competitors within sight.
About a third of the way round this first lap an air ambulance decided to land about ten yards from the course. Dramatic enough to be slightly distracting, and impressively loud, but they seemed to be training rather than rescuing anyone I'm pleased to say.
Approaching Chicago, the course pinched together, almost forming a figure of eight. Here is where the slow coaches like me get to see the properly fast people who are already half a kilometre or more ahead. We then ran across some strange rusty red iron plates bolted to the ground (old fuel tanks? missile silos? the Stig's underground home?), then around Hammerhead, past the Follow-Through and you hit the straight back to the start/finish line and the transition station. It's here that you realise that what looks like a very flat course on TV actually has some slopes!
Into the transition area, on with the bike helmet (safety first! plus it's a rule in all these competitions) wheel the bike out and hop on less than gracefully, struggle with the straps on my right pedal, manage to get it sorted before going round Gambon.
Here's where I'm a bit more confident. I know I'm not an Olympic cyclist, but I'm a better cyclist than a runner. I've got the strength, and it's just a matter of keeping the pedals going round and round and try to be in the right gear. Three laps is a good distance, it's enough but not too much. I even got down on the drop handlebars for a couple of patches! Through this leg I'm pleased to say the only people who passed me were the leaders, and they were lapping me. I passed quite a few people, and I think I probably made up a few places I lost during the run.
All too soon the cycling leg was over. Wheel bike into the transition, off with helmet and gloves, out onto the running track again for the final leg. Jo shouts that I'm making good time, which gives me a bit of a boost. And at least this is the last section! My legs aren't feeling as positive as my brain though. They feel like rubber, heavy rubber at that. The wind seems to have picked up, and my only comfort is seeing my fellow competitors are finding it just as difficult, most adopting a kind of waddle as they coax numb muscles into something approaching a jog.
This last leg really was very difficult. It felt like I was going about half the speed I managed on the first run. Just keeping going was a battle, the number of times I wanted to stop and walk was horrible. The weird thing was, I wasn't out of breath, it was purely the dead, aching legs. I don't know how I found the energy to keep going, but I did, and I even passed a few more people (after having been passed by a few at the beginning of this lap, most of whom I'd passed on the bike).
Coming out of the Follow-Through, around the tyre wall (wrong side) and onto the straight towards the finish line. I knew this was where I should put on a bit of speed, and I tried, but I had no idea if it was making any difference. Several people pulled away from me, or passed me. I managed to accelerate a tiny amount and the finish line finally started to get a little bit closer. All I was thinking was I wanted to finish in under 90 minutes to beat my published goal. I had no idea how close I was, and couldn't bear the thought of missing it by a few seconds.
Finally I saw Jo waiting for me, and just further on the finish line with the clock: one hour, twenty something minutes - the rest was a blur. I was going to make it! I crossed the line feeling exhausted and elated at the same time.
Final result: 1:24:00
Official results and photos here.
Two races down, four to go. Dunsfold Duathlon adds 24km, making 34km in total. Come back soon for details of next month's challenge, and please visit my sponsorship site and donate some money!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
