I had a thought on my run yesterday morning.
Bear in mind, I've spent the last few weeks, during marathon-based conversations, saying (and meaning) "I don't think I'll do another one" "It's taken over my life too much, I won't do another one" "I'm going to concentrate on shorter distances after this".
I didn't really register what I had thought on my run until I got back, sunk into a lovely warm bath, and I suddenly remembered what I had thought.
I had thought, somewhere around the 17 mile point, "I'd quite like to do the Snowdonia Marathon".
I mean, Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez, WHAT?! Where the hell did that come from?
Help!!!
And, d'ya know what's even scarier? I actually, genuinely, meant it.
I am utterly beyond all hope.
Monday, 30 March 2009
Pre-run Ibuprofen = Pure Genius.
Yesterday was my last long run before starting to taper for the marathon. So at just after 9:00am, I set out to run 20 miles, having carefully planned a route the night before on G-maps Pedometer.
My long runs recently have been quite painful from about 13-14miles onwards - my back, knees and hips have started to ache horribly, to the point on the last couple of runs where it's been actually more painful to stop & walk than it has been to keep running! It doesn't make for a happy state of mind, and I think this contributed to my horrible slump in mood and motivation last week (which was relieved by a great night with the Radleys, my very good doctor friends and their respective OHs - thanks guys!). Pain is terribly demoralising, as anyone who has ever suffered with a chronically painful condition will tell you. And I only had to bear it for a few hours - well, until the post-run stiffness sets in, that is!
So, having meant to follow this plan for the past couple of weeks, yesterday morning I actually remembered to take some ibuprofen before I set out on my run.
Sheer Bliiiiissssss.
Apart from usual tired-leg feeling, I felt great all the way round. No achey back, no achey hips, no achey knees. I really wish I'd discovered this earlier in my training...!
What I did discover was a) I'm fine with Lucozade Sport as a drink, which is lucky, being as this is what they are serving up on FLM day (so I thought I'd better give it a test-run), and b) I could do with a gel every 3.5miles or so. I took four out with me, which is all I had as I'd forgotten to buy any more, and it wasn't really quite enough. The new belt I purchased was good, though - much better balanced and fitted than my previous cheapo job.
Unfortunately, having done a very thorough scour of the B-road I had planned to run down using the satellite images on G-maps, ensuring it had a footway all the way along it, I hadn't done the same for the Bromsgrove Feeder road which comprised the last 3-4 miles of my run. So it was knees up and running along uneven grass verge. Which was actually a bonus, as it used muscles I hadn't been using so much in the rest of the run.
I think it took me about 3:45. I say think, because in a spectacularly blonde moment, I stopped my Garmin to cross over a fairly busy road in Bromsgrove, and then forgot to restart it until about a mile or so later when I realised I really had run further than the 13.8 miles that I had apparently run about ten minutes previously. Blast, blast, blast. Oh well.
So, overall, I'm feeling much better and more positive about running a marathon than I was this time last week. Bring it on!
My long runs recently have been quite painful from about 13-14miles onwards - my back, knees and hips have started to ache horribly, to the point on the last couple of runs where it's been actually more painful to stop & walk than it has been to keep running! It doesn't make for a happy state of mind, and I think this contributed to my horrible slump in mood and motivation last week (which was relieved by a great night with the Radleys, my very good doctor friends and their respective OHs - thanks guys!). Pain is terribly demoralising, as anyone who has ever suffered with a chronically painful condition will tell you. And I only had to bear it for a few hours - well, until the post-run stiffness sets in, that is!
So, having meant to follow this plan for the past couple of weeks, yesterday morning I actually remembered to take some ibuprofen before I set out on my run.
Sheer Bliiiiissssss.
Apart from usual tired-leg feeling, I felt great all the way round. No achey back, no achey hips, no achey knees. I really wish I'd discovered this earlier in my training...!
What I did discover was a) I'm fine with Lucozade Sport as a drink, which is lucky, being as this is what they are serving up on FLM day (so I thought I'd better give it a test-run), and b) I could do with a gel every 3.5miles or so. I took four out with me, which is all I had as I'd forgotten to buy any more, and it wasn't really quite enough. The new belt I purchased was good, though - much better balanced and fitted than my previous cheapo job.
Unfortunately, having done a very thorough scour of the B-road I had planned to run down using the satellite images on G-maps, ensuring it had a footway all the way along it, I hadn't done the same for the Bromsgrove Feeder road which comprised the last 3-4 miles of my run. So it was knees up and running along uneven grass verge. Which was actually a bonus, as it used muscles I hadn't been using so much in the rest of the run.
I think it took me about 3:45. I say think, because in a spectacularly blonde moment, I stopped my Garmin to cross over a fairly busy road in Bromsgrove, and then forgot to restart it until about a mile or so later when I realised I really had run further than the 13.8 miles that I had apparently run about ten minutes previously. Blast, blast, blast. Oh well.
So, overall, I'm feeling much better and more positive about running a marathon than I was this time last week. Bring it on!
Thursday, 26 March 2009
I have the answer!
In relation to my previous post, the answer to how best to get from one side of London to the other has come from an unexpected source.
When my copy of Top Gear magazine arrived today it contained a free DVD of the Stig's greatest moments, including the challenge which looked at how best to cross London at 8:30am on a Monday morning. Richard, James, Jeremy and the Stig each had a different mode of transport to use.
So, thanks to this, I know exactly how to get across London on raceday:
Does anyone have a speedboat I can borrow?
When my copy of Top Gear magazine arrived today it contained a free DVD of the Stig's greatest moments, including the challenge which looked at how best to cross London at 8:30am on a Monday morning. Richard, James, Jeremy and the Stig each had a different mode of transport to use.
So, thanks to this, I know exactly how to get across London on raceday:
Does anyone have a speedboat I can borrow?
Friday, 20 March 2009
...and I've got to negotiate London on raceday!
Included in Cathy's FLM race pack was Transport For London's handy (all things are relative) guide to which DLR and Tube stations you need to exit from in order to get to appropriate bits of the course. It tells you where the best vantage points are, and where to avoid.
That last section was the shortest. It just said, "London".
In fact, the entire first page was a list of the bus route numbers for those routes that wouldn't be going where they normally go on race day. There are three starts, and two different meeting places at the end, depending on which letter of the alphabet you've decided to meet at. We've chosen "X". Everybody else has probably chosen this as well.
Apparently, the Cutty Sark will have limited access on race weekend. Does this matter? It's not as if I was planning to sail it anywhere.
Our hotel is near to the start. The only logical way to get a bus from there to a DLR station (the nearest Tube station is nearly an hours walk away) would be to plough though the marathon route. So I think I'll have to take a train from Blackheath station. Although I'm not sure where to.
At least I know that our little group of supporters will be easy to spot, for since the get-together at Matlock at the start of the month I've been privvy to the cunning plan that a couple of them have cooked up. There'll be no missing us on race day. We might even get on the telly!
Meantime, all Cathy has to do is run on the nicely cordoned-off roads from the start to the finish, at which point there will even be some kindly folk to take her timing chip off her trainers for her.
Sometimes I think the runners have it easy...
That last section was the shortest. It just said, "London".
In fact, the entire first page was a list of the bus route numbers for those routes that wouldn't be going where they normally go on race day. There are three starts, and two different meeting places at the end, depending on which letter of the alphabet you've decided to meet at. We've chosen "X". Everybody else has probably chosen this as well.
Apparently, the Cutty Sark will have limited access on race weekend. Does this matter? It's not as if I was planning to sail it anywhere.
Our hotel is near to the start. The only logical way to get a bus from there to a DLR station (the nearest Tube station is nearly an hours walk away) would be to plough though the marathon route. So I think I'll have to take a train from Blackheath station. Although I'm not sure where to.
At least I know that our little group of supporters will be easy to spot, for since the get-together at Matlock at the start of the month I've been privvy to the cunning plan that a couple of them have cooked up. There'll be no missing us on race day. We might even get on the telly!
Meantime, all Cathy has to do is run on the nicely cordoned-off roads from the start to the finish, at which point there will even be some kindly folk to take her timing chip off her trainers for her.
Sometimes I think the runners have it easy...
This Thing, It's Taking Over My Life
I was chatting to our receptionists this evening. About half way through evening surgery, I realised that I'd been dating things incorrectly all day. I'd been writing "19.03.09" on things. Observant types amongst you will notice that today is the 20th.
"Oh dear, Cathy, " said one of the receptionists, "What's the matter with you? Oh, I know what it is, it's all this running, that 17 miles yesterday has addled your brain!".
She may not be far wrong. Marathon training does take over your life. If you're not actually running, you're recovering from running - stretching those aching muscles, taking nice long hot baths, and possibly hobbling around a bit for 24 hours. If you're not recovering from running, you're thinking about running - how far you're going on your next run, where you'll go, what drinks/gels you need to take with you. If you're not thinking about running, you're eating or drinking for running - taking on protein immediately after a long run, stocking up on the carbs, making sure you're well hydrated with electrolyte drink, or making sure you're energised-up for a run with energy drink. If you're not eating and drinking about running, you're talking about it and getting people to sponsor you for the Big Race. If you're not talking or fundraising, you're probably dreaming about running. If you're not dreaming about it, you're probably engaging in some positive mental visualisation by imagining your perfect race, or perhaps (dare I say it) visualising yourself crossing the finishing line in London.
I also now appear to have regressed and lost the ability to drink from anything other than a bottle. Currently, my SIS bottle is sitting next to me, filled with orange squash. There is no logical reason for this. I could drink it from a pint glass (except for the fact that there is more than a pint in the bottle). I seem to have become surgically attached to the bottle. It's a very nice bottle, but this habit could put me in a bit of bother in a posh restaurant, for example.
Thankfully, I am still able to drink tea and coffee from mugs.
And this morning, my FLM race number arrived.
It's amazing how your perspective changes. For years, I have watched the London Marathon on the TV and been sort of inspired by it. I've nebulously thought, "I could do that" in a kind of I-must-get-fitter fashion, but never really thought of really doing it. It was always something that someone else did. No-one I knew had ever run a marathon. The furthest my Dad and brother ever ran when they were running together during my teens was a 10k race. For quite a long time, 10K was some huge unattainable distance for me. Now, it's a short run. And in a moment of vague insanity, I entered the ballot for the London Marathon in May of last year. I think my mindset was more, "I'll try, and well, I probably won't get in". The odds are certainly against you getting in the first time you apply through the ballot system. And I didn't get it. But then a tiny mad thought entered my head, and, in one of those brief flashes of insanity that seem to creep into my life now and then, I emailed Francine Heggie at Asthma UK with a "business case" for them giving me a Golden Bond place. I sent it not really thinking that much would come of it.
Then, of course, she phoned me up and the rest is history.
And this morning it really hit home.
Oh my God, I'm running the London Marathon.
"Oh dear, Cathy, " said one of the receptionists, "What's the matter with you? Oh, I know what it is, it's all this running, that 17 miles yesterday has addled your brain!".
She may not be far wrong. Marathon training does take over your life. If you're not actually running, you're recovering from running - stretching those aching muscles, taking nice long hot baths, and possibly hobbling around a bit for 24 hours. If you're not recovering from running, you're thinking about running - how far you're going on your next run, where you'll go, what drinks/gels you need to take with you. If you're not thinking about running, you're eating or drinking for running - taking on protein immediately after a long run, stocking up on the carbs, making sure you're well hydrated with electrolyte drink, or making sure you're energised-up for a run with energy drink. If you're not eating and drinking about running, you're talking about it and getting people to sponsor you for the Big Race. If you're not talking or fundraising, you're probably dreaming about running. If you're not dreaming about it, you're probably engaging in some positive mental visualisation by imagining your perfect race, or perhaps (dare I say it) visualising yourself crossing the finishing line in London.
I also now appear to have regressed and lost the ability to drink from anything other than a bottle. Currently, my SIS bottle is sitting next to me, filled with orange squash. There is no logical reason for this. I could drink it from a pint glass (except for the fact that there is more than a pint in the bottle). I seem to have become surgically attached to the bottle. It's a very nice bottle, but this habit could put me in a bit of bother in a posh restaurant, for example.
Thankfully, I am still able to drink tea and coffee from mugs.
And this morning, my FLM race number arrived.
It's amazing how your perspective changes. For years, I have watched the London Marathon on the TV and been sort of inspired by it. I've nebulously thought, "I could do that" in a kind of I-must-get-fitter fashion, but never really thought of really doing it. It was always something that someone else did. No-one I knew had ever run a marathon. The furthest my Dad and brother ever ran when they were running together during my teens was a 10k race. For quite a long time, 10K was some huge unattainable distance for me. Now, it's a short run. And in a moment of vague insanity, I entered the ballot for the London Marathon in May of last year. I think my mindset was more, "I'll try, and well, I probably won't get in". The odds are certainly against you getting in the first time you apply through the ballot system. And I didn't get it. But then a tiny mad thought entered my head, and, in one of those brief flashes of insanity that seem to creep into my life now and then, I emailed Francine Heggie at Asthma UK with a "business case" for them giving me a Golden Bond place. I sent it not really thinking that much would come of it.
Then, of course, she phoned me up and the rest is history.
And this morning it really hit home.
Oh my God, I'm running the London Marathon.
Kidderminster! (Or: The Agony and The Ecstacy)
Originally used as the "posh person's term for 'toilet'" in a Bottom sketch, Kidderminster is actually a town in the vague vicinity of Halesowen. Sort of.
It was also the destination of my long run this week.
My original plan was to run down the A456 to Hagley, then branch off down the A450 (Worcester Rd) to Stone, cut along the A448 on the outskirts of Kiddy, then run all the way back down the A456 back home.
It was a lovely afternoon for a run. I loaded up the Camelbak, stuffed a few gels into my belt, and plodded out into the sunshine.
I can tell you, you don't half feel a complete tool running through a residential area with a Camelbak on. Thankfully, though, within about half a mile of our house you get into the kind of area where it doesn't seem quite so odd. And anyway, after a few miles you really do stop caring what you look like....
I got to Hackman's Gate, not too far short of Barnett Hill garden centre on the A450, when the foot way abruptly ended. The verges deteriorated into the kind of terrain that would complement a ploughed field quite nicely. A quick glance over the top of my sunglasses confirmed that there was no further footpath as far as the eye could see.
I had three options: risk turning an ankle on the ploughed-field verge, risk death by running on a national-speed limit road, or turn back. Guess what. I turned back.
I took the road to the left at the crossroads at Hackman's Gate. Thankfully I am blessed with a vaguely good sense of direction, which, combined with a reasonable knowledge of the major routes around our wider area, means I can normally find my way OK using a system of educated guesswork. I headed down Belbroughton Road, which, can I say, has some really rather nice houses on it. I even picked out a couple that I'll go and buy up when I win the lottery. That's the beauty of running - it'll take you past places you'd never normally go, and allow you to take in the detail of those common places you never really noticed before.
Happily, as per my vague internal compass, I came out in Blakedown and set off towards Kiddy on the A456. Nice to see that the good people on Bromsgrove District council value the safety of their pedestrians, having built the crash barrier for this (also national speed limit) dual carriageway on the non-road-side of the pavement. Ha. Got to Brewer's, the lovely wallpaper place where we got out bedroom wallpaper from. I'd done 9 miles at this point, and I had a bit of a stretch. For the last few miles, I had started to feel incredibly bloated and a wee bit sickly, and the thought of taking on more fluid or gels was a bit of an anathema, despite the warm weather. This probably contributed to my later fatigue, but at least it's a lesson learnt before the marathon and not during it. The last few miles were a real struggle, but I still managed to get back home to complete 17 miles in 3 hours 32 mins. Interestingly, my half marathon time was probably about 2 hours 30. That's the difference racing makes (and possibly not having done another half just four days before...!). My average HR for the entire run was 155bpm, with most of my miles being 11-12 mins - gradually getting slower as I toiled up the Hagley mile on my way home! Man, was I hurting by this point. The sides of my knees and hips were quite painful, with the only positive point being that it actually hurt more to stop than it did to keep going. What a motivator, eh?!
Got back and ran the bath. Ahhhhh, sheer bliss. A nice hot bath after a long run is like Lemsip for a cold. Very soothing and with some added therapeutic benefit. Once the ibuprofen starts kicking in, it's like heaven. Next week, I'm going to try taking some ibuprofen with my pre-long-run meal, to see if that helps stop the onset of joint-grot in the later miles.
It was also the destination of my long run this week.
My original plan was to run down the A456 to Hagley, then branch off down the A450 (Worcester Rd) to Stone, cut along the A448 on the outskirts of Kiddy, then run all the way back down the A456 back home.
It was a lovely afternoon for a run. I loaded up the Camelbak, stuffed a few gels into my belt, and plodded out into the sunshine.
I can tell you, you don't half feel a complete tool running through a residential area with a Camelbak on. Thankfully, though, within about half a mile of our house you get into the kind of area where it doesn't seem quite so odd. And anyway, after a few miles you really do stop caring what you look like....
I got to Hackman's Gate, not too far short of Barnett Hill garden centre on the A450, when the foot way abruptly ended. The verges deteriorated into the kind of terrain that would complement a ploughed field quite nicely. A quick glance over the top of my sunglasses confirmed that there was no further footpath as far as the eye could see.
I had three options: risk turning an ankle on the ploughed-field verge, risk death by running on a national-speed limit road, or turn back. Guess what. I turned back.
I took the road to the left at the crossroads at Hackman's Gate. Thankfully I am blessed with a vaguely good sense of direction, which, combined with a reasonable knowledge of the major routes around our wider area, means I can normally find my way OK using a system of educated guesswork. I headed down Belbroughton Road, which, can I say, has some really rather nice houses on it. I even picked out a couple that I'll go and buy up when I win the lottery. That's the beauty of running - it'll take you past places you'd never normally go, and allow you to take in the detail of those common places you never really noticed before.
Happily, as per my vague internal compass, I came out in Blakedown and set off towards Kiddy on the A456. Nice to see that the good people on Bromsgrove District council value the safety of their pedestrians, having built the crash barrier for this (also national speed limit) dual carriageway on the non-road-side of the pavement. Ha. Got to Brewer's, the lovely wallpaper place where we got out bedroom wallpaper from. I'd done 9 miles at this point, and I had a bit of a stretch. For the last few miles, I had started to feel incredibly bloated and a wee bit sickly, and the thought of taking on more fluid or gels was a bit of an anathema, despite the warm weather. This probably contributed to my later fatigue, but at least it's a lesson learnt before the marathon and not during it. The last few miles were a real struggle, but I still managed to get back home to complete 17 miles in 3 hours 32 mins. Interestingly, my half marathon time was probably about 2 hours 30. That's the difference racing makes (and possibly not having done another half just four days before...!). My average HR for the entire run was 155bpm, with most of my miles being 11-12 mins - gradually getting slower as I toiled up the Hagley mile on my way home! Man, was I hurting by this point. The sides of my knees and hips were quite painful, with the only positive point being that it actually hurt more to stop than it did to keep going. What a motivator, eh?!
Got back and ran the bath. Ahhhhh, sheer bliss. A nice hot bath after a long run is like Lemsip for a cold. Very soothing and with some added therapeutic benefit. Once the ibuprofen starts kicking in, it's like heaven. Next week, I'm going to try taking some ibuprofen with my pre-long-run meal, to see if that helps stop the onset of joint-grot in the later miles.
Spectating in the forest
The Forest of Dean is one of those places that, because of my work as a gigging musician, I've been to but never really seen. One of the venues I play(ed - because the dance there has been cancelled) at is in Cinderford, "Gateway To The Forest Of Dean".
The marathon was south of Cinderford, and so I got to drive through bits of the forest I'd never driven through before...
Our aim is usually to arrive at a race about 45 minutes before it starts, and here that was absolutely perfect timing. Just as we arrived they opened their overflow car park, and we were one of the first half-dozen people to park on it, meaning I could stick the car in a "no-one's going to block me in" kind of position.
We made our way to the start, and I discovered something about female runners - they are incapable of correctly using portaloos. Actually, this is an unfair sweeping generalisation - one particular running club (who will remain nameless) was to blame. There was a decent queue for the ladies' loos, and there were three toilets available. The problem was, the ladies from this particular running club hadn't prefected the art of "talking and looking at the toilets at the same time", which meant that people were leaving the loos but no-one was going in to the empty ones! Three times I had to yell out to the person at the front of the queue that one of the loos was empty, and the lady queueing just behind us suggested that I should be the toilet marshall; I think some from that running club would still be waiting there now.
With five minutes to go, I left Cathy at the start to head back to the car and read a book for a couple of hours. Catching sight of a large route map, it occurred to me that locating the finish line might be a good idea. I approached the map and was joined by one of the runners. "It doesn't look that far on the map," he suggested. "No," I replied, "but I notice they don't put the scale on it." With this, he swore at himself and wandered off!
After sitting in the car for about 45 minutes I noticed a group of marshalls skittering about behind me. In one of those "how convenient" moments, it appeared that I'd parked next to the suggested pedestrian route to the finish line - in fact, I was less than 400m away from the finish. Bonus. Back to my book.
At the finish line, two things made me chuckle. First was the woman who crossed the line at 2h 01m, looked at her watch and yelled a rather fruity swear word. I think, perhaps, she was hoping for a sub-2 hour time.
Second, about five minutes later, was the return of the bloke I'd met before the start. He'd just learnt that one of the other members of his running club had finished 3rd overall. "I don't know whether to congratulate him or hate him," was his assessment of the situation.
All in all, a great day. Lovely weather, Cathy knocked just over 10 minutes off her personal best, and treated to a carvery lunch at The Belfry Hotel in Littledean.
Next stop, the Asthma UK 10k. Remember your umbrellas, folks!
The marathon was south of Cinderford, and so I got to drive through bits of the forest I'd never driven through before...
Our aim is usually to arrive at a race about 45 minutes before it starts, and here that was absolutely perfect timing. Just as we arrived they opened their overflow car park, and we were one of the first half-dozen people to park on it, meaning I could stick the car in a "no-one's going to block me in" kind of position.
We made our way to the start, and I discovered something about female runners - they are incapable of correctly using portaloos. Actually, this is an unfair sweeping generalisation - one particular running club (who will remain nameless) was to blame. There was a decent queue for the ladies' loos, and there were three toilets available. The problem was, the ladies from this particular running club hadn't prefected the art of "talking and looking at the toilets at the same time", which meant that people were leaving the loos but no-one was going in to the empty ones! Three times I had to yell out to the person at the front of the queue that one of the loos was empty, and the lady queueing just behind us suggested that I should be the toilet marshall; I think some from that running club would still be waiting there now.
With five minutes to go, I left Cathy at the start to head back to the car and read a book for a couple of hours. Catching sight of a large route map, it occurred to me that locating the finish line might be a good idea. I approached the map and was joined by one of the runners. "It doesn't look that far on the map," he suggested. "No," I replied, "but I notice they don't put the scale on it." With this, he swore at himself and wandered off!
After sitting in the car for about 45 minutes I noticed a group of marshalls skittering about behind me. In one of those "how convenient" moments, it appeared that I'd parked next to the suggested pedestrian route to the finish line - in fact, I was less than 400m away from the finish. Bonus. Back to my book.
At the finish line, two things made me chuckle. First was the woman who crossed the line at 2h 01m, looked at her watch and yelled a rather fruity swear word. I think, perhaps, she was hoping for a sub-2 hour time.
Second, about five minutes later, was the return of the bloke I'd met before the start. He'd just learnt that one of the other members of his running club had finished 3rd overall. "I don't know whether to congratulate him or hate him," was his assessment of the situation.
All in all, a great day. Lovely weather, Cathy knocked just over 10 minutes off her personal best, and treated to a carvery lunch at The Belfry Hotel in Littledean.
Next stop, the Asthma UK 10k. Remember your umbrellas, folks!
The Forest of Dean - where "Undulating" means "Actually rather hilly, you know".
FoD Half Marathon Stats
Distance: 13.17 miles
Time: 2:12:24
Av HR: 172bpm
Max HR: 183bpm
Mile Splits: 10:21, 9:52, 9:36, 10:07, 11:00, 10:21, 11:07, 9:59, 9:55, 9:27, 9:57, 9:35, 10:09, 0:50.
It was a very lovely day for a half-mara on Sunday. The FoD was bathed in glorious sunshine, but with a cooling breeze playing merrily through the trees.
There had been some debate going on on the RW message boards regarding the best shoe for the race - i.e., trail shoe vs road shoe. The race is officially a "trail" race, but obviously, there are trails and then there are trails. If you catch my meaning. The race organiser had posted to say that, although there was a little mud early on, he reckoned road shoes would be OK. Now, I bought myself a new pair of road shoes and a new pair of trail shoes a few weeks back. Neither of them had really been properly broken in, but the road shoes had gone on a couple of longish runs, whilst the trail shoes had only been worn around the house a bit, and had done one short trail run whilst we were away in Matlock. During this run, however, I had noticed that on the short section of road I had run on, the trail shoes weren't a patch on the cushioning that the road shoes provided. After much ummm-ing and ahhh-ing, I opted for the road shoes. But took the trail shoes along, just in case.
It was certainly the correct choice. There was a bit of mud, ish, early on, but only a little and only for a short distance. There after it was hard, compacted trails and some forest road. It made for excellent going. Apart from the ruddy great hills.
Runs are graded by their ascent/descent according to four categories: flat, undulating, hilly or very hilly. FoD was classified, apparently, as "undulating". Now, for those of you who live round my way - Portsdown Road, right? Steeper than that. Twice. Plus an absolute slog for the first couple-three miles up oh-so-gradual incline that saps your legs. Happily, there were also some "steep descents" (I know this cos there was warning signs, innit) which helped to refresh the old muscles.
My only real moan about this race was that the water at the refreshment stations was given out in cups. Can't run and drink from a cup, well, not unless you want to win the wet-t-shirt competition. However, it was probably a good strategy (and indeed one that has been advised for first-time marathoners) to walk through the water stations.
I was really pleased to have wiped ten minutes (and about fifteen seconds) off my half-marathon PB, particularly as it was over quite a hilly course. It affirmed that I have actually been doing some decent training over the last few months....!
I was met at the finish by my Chief Bottle Holder, who duly handed me the bottle. Mum and Dad also made it down, which was very kind of them, and then took us out to lunch at a nearby pub. Mmmmmm, carvery. The only disappointment was that I couldn't really do it proper justice - distance running somehow shuts down my digestive system (I could go into details about gastric paresis etc but I won't.. ;)) so I find it difficult to shovel in great amounts of food afterwards. To this end, I've found quite a good solution in the form of SIS ReGo, a protein-based recovery drink - it's a bit like a malty strawberry milkshake, only more palatable. It's generally recommended that you have some kind of protein-based meal/snack in the 30-60mins following a long run, and I've found it much easier to sip this concoction than to try to eat anything.
I still managed roast beef and Yorkies, though :-D
Distance: 13.17 miles
Time: 2:12:24
Av HR: 172bpm
Max HR: 183bpm
Mile Splits: 10:21, 9:52, 9:36, 10:07, 11:00, 10:21, 11:07, 9:59, 9:55, 9:27, 9:57, 9:35, 10:09, 0:50.
It was a very lovely day for a half-mara on Sunday. The FoD was bathed in glorious sunshine, but with a cooling breeze playing merrily through the trees.
There had been some debate going on on the RW message boards regarding the best shoe for the race - i.e., trail shoe vs road shoe. The race is officially a "trail" race, but obviously, there are trails and then there are trails. If you catch my meaning. The race organiser had posted to say that, although there was a little mud early on, he reckoned road shoes would be OK. Now, I bought myself a new pair of road shoes and a new pair of trail shoes a few weeks back. Neither of them had really been properly broken in, but the road shoes had gone on a couple of longish runs, whilst the trail shoes had only been worn around the house a bit, and had done one short trail run whilst we were away in Matlock. During this run, however, I had noticed that on the short section of road I had run on, the trail shoes weren't a patch on the cushioning that the road shoes provided. After much ummm-ing and ahhh-ing, I opted for the road shoes. But took the trail shoes along, just in case.
It was certainly the correct choice. There was a bit of mud, ish, early on, but only a little and only for a short distance. There after it was hard, compacted trails and some forest road. It made for excellent going. Apart from the ruddy great hills.
Runs are graded by their ascent/descent according to four categories: flat, undulating, hilly or very hilly. FoD was classified, apparently, as "undulating". Now, for those of you who live round my way - Portsdown Road, right? Steeper than that. Twice. Plus an absolute slog for the first couple-three miles up oh-so-gradual incline that saps your legs. Happily, there were also some "steep descents" (I know this cos there was warning signs, innit) which helped to refresh the old muscles.
My only real moan about this race was that the water at the refreshment stations was given out in cups. Can't run and drink from a cup, well, not unless you want to win the wet-t-shirt competition. However, it was probably a good strategy (and indeed one that has been advised for first-time marathoners) to walk through the water stations.
I was really pleased to have wiped ten minutes (and about fifteen seconds) off my half-marathon PB, particularly as it was over quite a hilly course. It affirmed that I have actually been doing some decent training over the last few months....!
I was met at the finish by my Chief Bottle Holder, who duly handed me the bottle. Mum and Dad also made it down, which was very kind of them, and then took us out to lunch at a nearby pub. Mmmmmm, carvery. The only disappointment was that I couldn't really do it proper justice - distance running somehow shuts down my digestive system (I could go into details about gastric paresis etc but I won't.. ;)) so I find it difficult to shovel in great amounts of food afterwards. To this end, I've found quite a good solution in the form of SIS ReGo, a protein-based recovery drink - it's a bit like a malty strawberry milkshake, only more palatable. It's generally recommended that you have some kind of protein-based meal/snack in the 30-60mins following a long run, and I've found it much easier to sip this concoction than to try to eat anything.
I still managed roast beef and Yorkies, though :-D
Saturday, 14 March 2009
Frustration
Well, I'm still sidelined with this virus. Just when I thought it had gone. A week last Thursday, I got up and thought, "Oh great, seems to be better". Voice back, feeling fine, so I went out on my 16-miler. Felt generally OK, apart from that ever-so-slightly starchy feeling at the bottom of the lungs. My goodness those last few miles were painful, though. Got up on Friday and felt bad again, coughing, blergh, and, having not had any lung related symptoms, feeling tight again. Rubbish!
Went away for the weekend with some of those Mad Asthma people. Spent a lovely time in Matlock and even had a successful stroll over the Heights of Abraham. Went shopping at a local Outlet Village on the Sunday, and discovered that Next can't make their mind up about how they are going to size their jeans.
So this week, I decided to be sensible (don't look so shocked) and not push it, and just try to allow myself to get better. However it hasn't reaped the benefits I was hoping - still coughing, bit tight, not done any running, and with a half-marathon to do tomorrow, I'm starting to doubt the benefits of Allowing Nature To Run Its Course. I have spent the last few days having a slight mental battle as to whether I'm actually going to go and run the half tomorrow, but I think I've come to the conclusion that I will go and have a go - and not be too disappointed if it doesn't all go to plan.
I shall continue to chunter quietly about how I have managed to go the entire winter without getting so much as a sniffle, only to have these little microscopic critters gunk me up six/seven weeks before possibly the most important race of my life. Bah. *chunter chunter chunter*
The SIS drinks and gels seem to be good though, and haven't caused any "gastrointestinal distress" (as they like to put it, bless 'em, they don't like to be crude). Found out that Tescos sell 'em cheaper than their own website, too, so that's a bonus.
Adios. I'll hopefully write in with a race report tomorrow.
Went away for the weekend with some of those Mad Asthma people. Spent a lovely time in Matlock and even had a successful stroll over the Heights of Abraham. Went shopping at a local Outlet Village on the Sunday, and discovered that Next can't make their mind up about how they are going to size their jeans.
So this week, I decided to be sensible (don't look so shocked) and not push it, and just try to allow myself to get better. However it hasn't reaped the benefits I was hoping - still coughing, bit tight, not done any running, and with a half-marathon to do tomorrow, I'm starting to doubt the benefits of Allowing Nature To Run Its Course. I have spent the last few days having a slight mental battle as to whether I'm actually going to go and run the half tomorrow, but I think I've come to the conclusion that I will go and have a go - and not be too disappointed if it doesn't all go to plan.
I shall continue to chunter quietly about how I have managed to go the entire winter without getting so much as a sniffle, only to have these little microscopic critters gunk me up six/seven weeks before possibly the most important race of my life. Bah. *chunter chunter chunter*
The SIS drinks and gels seem to be good though, and haven't caused any "gastrointestinal distress" (as they like to put it, bless 'em, they don't like to be crude). Found out that Tescos sell 'em cheaper than their own website, too, so that's a bonus.
Adios. I'll hopefully write in with a race report tomorrow.
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
Postal Purchasing
I love shopping online. Adore it. A larger range of products than you'd ever find in a shopping centre, combined with any necessary advice/reviews from people who've used 'em, and with all the time you like to browse and decide without some pushy or stroppy sales "assistant" breathing down your neck.
My SIS pack arrived yesterday - 2 sachets each of Go Electrolyte, Go PS22 Energy & Rego Recovery drinks, plus a few gels of each flavour to try. I'm always slightly wary about new energy drinks, as many of them contain artifical sweeteners - and these, as we all know, "when consumed in excess, can produce laxative effects". Yeah, that's a brill idea, isn't it. Put something in an energy drink, designed to be used on long runs, that can give you stomach cramps and the trots. Sensible. Anyhow, trying it out beforehand is always a plan, so I've drunk a sachet of the Go Electrolyte drink this evening and haven't suffered any ill-effects. It was vaguely reminiscent of Dioralyte. I'm not sure that's a good thing. However, going on the old adage "if it tastes bad it must be doing you good", then it's probably alright.
I'm not really sure about that adage though - I'm fairly certain cyanide isn't too healthy for you.
Last night, I indulged again by ordering a Camelbak (rucksack thingy which carries water) for my long runs, and a Powerbreathe. I was a bit cynical about Powerbreathe when it came out, thinking it was just other gimmick, but the research seems promising, and, frankly, if it'll offer any further support to my truculent twins (AKA my lungs) - then brilliant, I'll give it a go. If it's naff, well at least it's an avenue explored.
Happily, the URTI seems to be on its way out. I've been more back to my normal self today, and my voice is returning too. Mr Steve seems a little disappointed. ;-)
So, let's all keep fingers crossed for an upturn in the weather over the next few days and a continued improvement in the state of my upper respiratory tract. Hopefully, then, it'll be back to it for me.
I can't finish my blog entry today without saying a big thank you to some special friends who have, tonight, brought my fundraising total above the £700 mark. Thanks, guys - it means a lot.
My SIS pack arrived yesterday - 2 sachets each of Go Electrolyte, Go PS22 Energy & Rego Recovery drinks, plus a few gels of each flavour to try. I'm always slightly wary about new energy drinks, as many of them contain artifical sweeteners - and these, as we all know, "when consumed in excess, can produce laxative effects". Yeah, that's a brill idea, isn't it. Put something in an energy drink, designed to be used on long runs, that can give you stomach cramps and the trots. Sensible. Anyhow, trying it out beforehand is always a plan, so I've drunk a sachet of the Go Electrolyte drink this evening and haven't suffered any ill-effects. It was vaguely reminiscent of Dioralyte. I'm not sure that's a good thing. However, going on the old adage "if it tastes bad it must be doing you good", then it's probably alright.
I'm not really sure about that adage though - I'm fairly certain cyanide isn't too healthy for you.
Last night, I indulged again by ordering a Camelbak (rucksack thingy which carries water) for my long runs, and a Powerbreathe. I was a bit cynical about Powerbreathe when it came out, thinking it was just other gimmick, but the research seems promising, and, frankly, if it'll offer any further support to my truculent twins (AKA my lungs) - then brilliant, I'll give it a go. If it's naff, well at least it's an avenue explored.
Happily, the URTI seems to be on its way out. I've been more back to my normal self today, and my voice is returning too. Mr Steve seems a little disappointed. ;-)
So, let's all keep fingers crossed for an upturn in the weather over the next few days and a continued improvement in the state of my upper respiratory tract. Hopefully, then, it'll be back to it for me.
I can't finish my blog entry today without saying a big thank you to some special friends who have, tonight, brought my fundraising total above the £700 mark. Thanks, guys - it means a lot.
Increasing the population of London in one easy step
London is the most populous city in Europe. There is absolutely no reason to increase the number of people in it at any given time.
Mindful of this, they decide to organise a marathon there every year with 46,500 entrants.
If you were to assume that Dr Cath was an average entrant (something I'd never do, of course) then this would mean an extra 940,000 people descending on the Capital on race day - increasing London's population by 12.5%
That's a lot of people, and it doesn't include all of the support staff, official and other folk who will be required just to run the thing.
It also doesn't take into account the fact that Dr Cath is far from ordinary in one respect - the sheer number of people who will be turning up to support her! There are roughly 20 people expected at the moment, but every time we mention the event to someone new, we get more people threatening to join us.
Supporting Dr Cath should be straightforward, for two reasons. Firstly, Asthma UK have a couple of support stands that we can congregate at - and Asthma UK's "snot green" corporate colour scheme is both blindingly obvious in a crowd and bloomin' vile.
Secondly, a number of our friends are intending to do something that will make them "un-not-spottable" in the crowd. Now, quite what this is I'm not sure, but knowing who they are, I'm both certain it will be stunning and deeply worrying.
Let's just hope the car makes it to London without deep frying its electrics again...
Mindful of this, they decide to organise a marathon there every year with 46,500 entrants.
If you were to assume that Dr Cath was an average entrant (something I'd never do, of course) then this would mean an extra 940,000 people descending on the Capital on race day - increasing London's population by 12.5%
That's a lot of people, and it doesn't include all of the support staff, official and other folk who will be required just to run the thing.
It also doesn't take into account the fact that Dr Cath is far from ordinary in one respect - the sheer number of people who will be turning up to support her! There are roughly 20 people expected at the moment, but every time we mention the event to someone new, we get more people threatening to join us.
Supporting Dr Cath should be straightforward, for two reasons. Firstly, Asthma UK have a couple of support stands that we can congregate at - and Asthma UK's "snot green" corporate colour scheme is both blindingly obvious in a crowd and bloomin' vile.
Secondly, a number of our friends are intending to do something that will make them "un-not-spottable" in the crowd. Now, quite what this is I'm not sure, but knowing who they are, I'm both certain it will be stunning and deeply worrying.
Let's just hope the car makes it to London without deep frying its electrics again...
Monday, 2 March 2009
Physician, Heal Thyself
Blast, blast and triple blast. I have an URTI.
Have done really, really well and lasted the entire winter without coming down with any Lurgy (but being very careful in touching wood and not crowing too much about the fact), eight weeks before the London Marathon, I've got the grot.
It's not too bad, but it seems to have targetted my larynx, so it's been quite quiet over the last couple of days for me as the only way I can speak is in a low-volume husky croak. The main beneficiaries have been my husband (no nagging), receptionists at work (no gossiping) and, vicariously, some of my patients (highly amused that doctors get colds too).
I am keeping fingers crossed that it stays at larynx level, and doesn't feel any inclination to head further south. I need to get well and back to the training ASAP - I'm supposed to be running 16 miles this Thursday.
In other news, having been unable to run, I have geekily been statistically analysing my runs over the last two months. In February, despite having a week off for snow, I ran 50 miles and was on my feet for a total of 10 hours. That is quite depressing...
Have done really, really well and lasted the entire winter without coming down with any Lurgy (but being very careful in touching wood and not crowing too much about the fact), eight weeks before the London Marathon, I've got the grot.
It's not too bad, but it seems to have targetted my larynx, so it's been quite quiet over the last couple of days for me as the only way I can speak is in a low-volume husky croak. The main beneficiaries have been my husband (no nagging), receptionists at work (no gossiping) and, vicariously, some of my patients (highly amused that doctors get colds too).
I am keeping fingers crossed that it stays at larynx level, and doesn't feel any inclination to head further south. I need to get well and back to the training ASAP - I'm supposed to be running 16 miles this Thursday.
In other news, having been unable to run, I have geekily been statistically analysing my runs over the last two months. In February, despite having a week off for snow, I ran 50 miles and was on my feet for a total of 10 hours. That is quite depressing...
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