Oh what to do?

I am feeling pretty good today after yesterday's jaunt out to Westerham although my legs do feel a little tired which is testimony to how tough the course was.

Monday is traditionally my rest day and the evening normally involves some light chores, correspondence with my students who may want some help and then a little surfing on the interweb. I was looking in on my ultrarunning Twitter feed and was interested to find out from a gent who has the handle Johnnnny_M that there was a television programme on the Coast to Coast path depicting some of the Hardmoors 110 to be held on 2^nd June 2012....I was tempted after a flurry of egging on by the usual suspects.

That is until I read my emails and a "test" email had been sent by the organiser of the Grand Union Canal Run to see if the people who had entered the ballot were still interested in entering....what is the date of the event, yep, you've guessed it 2^nd June 2012.

To make things worse I get a message via Twitter from the organisers of the Hardmoor 55 telling me that I can still enter for the race on 12^th August 2012, brilliant I thought but then I looked at the date again...aaaahhh it was the last day of the Olympics and I can't commit gggrrrr

Never mind, time will tell

We cried Wolfe

I read the email from George "It is so beautiful today with tomorrow promised the same that I am sure that I will be able to manage a twenty in one go. So let’s just go for An (sic) approximate 20"

I had the route in my head (apart from the bit where we had to jump over two locked gates barricading a public footpath and run up a hill) and so at 6.30am I pulled up outside George's house who was waiting in his porch. Having read his email I don't think the two of us had taken into consideration that it was zero degrees centigrade in parts and were thankful that we had brought our running jackets. A short drive later we were up and out of the car shivering on the roadside donning our kit within a mile I had my hands rolled up inside my sleeves and George running with his hands in his pocket as we left the bright lights of town to enter the surrounding countryside.

The pre-dawn light was sufficient to run on the trails but we had to run for about 40 minutes before the sun poked its head above the horizon and shone down on a beautiful frosted and misted North Downs. George and I were soon heard waxing lyrical about the views which were stunning as the orange golden light extended the shadows and began to warm our goose bumped legs. 

Stopping briefly in Knockholt to watch the valley below filled to the brim with fog likening it to a white lake I was a little bit morbid in my description as I saw it as the river Styx, the boundary between Earth and the Underworld, imagining that Phlegyas would float through the mists to take our souls. Shaking this thought from my mind we descended the ridge into the fog to be hit by a wall of cold and find the fields covered in hoar frost, luckily no Phlegyas, but we did find one of the elusive "secret" exits to the M25 that are not shown on road maps and were able to view the traffic thundering past us with no barrier between us and them!

At this time of year the harvests have been done and the fields freshly ploughed hiding public footpaths so reclaiming our right to cross we were soon seen clomping across a field racking our brains to remember whether it was a public or permissive path as we approached the other side towards the farmer in his enormous tractor, indeed it was public but our feet were now covered in dried mud making the going a little tougher.

We finally reached our target, General James Wolfe's statue, well I did, realising I had lost George who had stopped off in the churchyard to read a few headstones and get some history. So after a short break we were back off on the trail again retracing our steps, this time with no fog which was fast burning off and we were a little warmer as we got back to car having run a cracking 19 miles completing a 50 mile week (minus 0.8 miles)  but still pleasing 

Don't cry Wolfe

Here is our target for Sunday morning the statue of General James Wolfe was born in Westerham, Kent, where this statue is located. 

The route we have planned is approximately 18 miles but is a toughy due to the greensand ridge but as George is doing the Beachy Head Marathon and I am just getting back on my feet we will take it nice and easy. 

What did you say?

The plan this evening was to go out for a 12 mile (~20km) and had got an idea of a route in my head...a pretty cool route that involved a little night cross country, that is, until the delightful Mrs S inadvertently changed the plan.

Mrs S had been labouring over a birthday cake my daughter had baked and created a work of art, all white icing, pink letters and feathers for a friend's daughter who was 18 today. It was our duty to deliver it in one piece and who was I to argue? So a change of plans was on the books.

On arriving at our friend's house I bid my farewells and scarpered up the street, Garmin on, a vague route in my head the problem being that it was along a bunch of main roads made all the busier by the flurry of Friday night traffic; the noise was horrendous and not at all pleasant. It still amazes me that this section of road is a popular route for wannabe marathon runners as they approach the final stages of their 12 week programme and possibly the most unpleasant road to run.

Sticking to the roads until later on in the run I slogged out the miles to get home very pleased that I had completed a nicely paced run but still pining for the tranquility of a woodland path away from all the traffic.

What a load of balls

No running on Wednesday evenings for the time being as I am now back teaching at the university. It was a 12 hour day and considering that it was a busy one both at work and at college I was pleased that appeared to be no ill effects from my 12 mile run after an 8 day break.

However, this morning, as I walked to the station I came very aware of this hideously sharp pain in the back of my leg that would come and go on a regular basis. It was the type of pain that makes you take in a sharp inhale of breath. So on my arrival there was only one thing to do, get my trusty tennis ball from my bookshelf and place it on the chair under my thigh and sit down carrying on my work regardless. It was pretty impressive as after about 10 minutes the pain went away, it must have been some type of knot which was ironed out nicely.

As for tonight, I went for a nice bouncy 10km run cutting across the local woodland park requiring a headtorch needless to say I had no problems with my thigh although my foot did grumble a little so will watch that area carefully over the coming days. 

They see only what they want to see.

This is a famous quote from The Sixth Sense when the young character Cole Sear tells Malcolm Crowe that the spirits he sees are in denial about being a ghost and "They see only what they want to see." 

I too had been in denial about my foot stubbing incident at the beginning of the month and although I knew it was quite painful for a few days it is only now that I have realised how bruised it was. I remember getting back to the car after the run and saying to George that my "shoes were rubbish" as the heel support was digging into my ankle and it "must be the insoles". I then went out for a walk with the delicious Mrs S and grumbled that my post-run sandals were digging into the grazes caused by my "rubbish" running shoes.

Tonight, I went out for my first run in 8 days, a life time these days, so placing my shoes on my feet I was amazed how well they fitted even around the ankle! I was aware that my quads were achy which I knew I would be able to run out on the way to the club. So off I bounced running through the woods to the club joining in with the 5 mile group for a steady run to run home via the longer path in the woods to home making a lovely 12 miles.

After cooling down I went off to have a bath and it was only then that looking down at my ankles I realised they had veins, a dimple and see the outline of a tendon. In fact this was to say that my ankle was not swollen which had probably been like that for quite a few weeks if not months and I had become accustomed to it.

I really enjoyed my run tonight my ankle felt OK although my foot had a tiny niggle and my head was clear(ing) of the thick cataarh that has been plaguing me...things are looking up at last.

Eat your elephant

Whilst working in a Technical IT team many moons ago we were often under pressure to create the impossible from nothing and often delivered on time and in budget. We soon learnt that panicking was a waste of energy so we often disappeared to the pub to plan. When hit with a massive problem we often heard our team leader say:

"How do you eat an elephant?"

and we used to reply back in a well rehearsed and drunken slur:

"One bite at a time"

So this evening I reviewed my training plan having realised that I had totally overlooked the big challenge I set myself for March 2012 a 100 mile run so took about an hour tweaking my current plan to take into account the elevated distance, I still get scared that in the next 20 weeks I will have to run 1205 miles, knowing my track record it will probably be 1000 but it is something to work to.

Oh, by the way, did I tell you that I am planning to do the 100 miles in under 24 hours? How am I going to do it?......You've got it, one bite at a time.

Memory Lane

Whilst tidying up the spare room the other day I came across an old 40Gb hardrive that I used to store College work and general files so took some time tonight to check what was on it; Imagine my joy in finding the picture of me below and the memories it holds.

It was 20th April 2008 and it was the anniversary of my return to running which coincided with a 10km race between other members of the club. You can see a very determined look on my face, a definite lean forward from the leg, I had all the intention of winning my handicap group and get a personal best to boot. At the very moment this picture was taken I had covered my 1,000th mile with the club, both training and racing, I was determined.

That day I got a PB of 45:12 and won my handicap (I think I came fourth overall in the race) and I was really chuffed.

To think what I did in a year, then, was what I did in 20 weeks this year...wow times have changed

One for the trail

I love the harmony and soleful feel to this music, perfect for the quieter moments on the trail when you want to have a little singalong with the backing group as always play it loud.

Getting back on my feet

This is probably the most frustrating week I have had this year; what with my bruised foot and ankle to then get a stinking cold last Monday. Although my ankle felt alright on Thursday my foot didn't then on Friday my foot and cold felt OK but the ankle started to grumble again. So the choice was to write off the week where running was concerned.

I was looking forward to a 22 mile pack run on Sunday, had it all planned and even had the fullest consent of the delightful Mrs S....then I remembered early this week that  it was my club's 10km race and I was the half way timer and Jelly Bean marshall which I am duty bound (obviously) to attend so my pack run was out of the picture, I couldn't win,

So tomorrow I will have to run by myself and do a 13 mile (21 km) cross country run, I plan to run out along an old favourite route of mine but locate a hidden (but very useful) footpath that takes to the highest point of the planned course and joins two routes we run in parallel valleys. To allow me as much time as possible on the trail I am going to park near the start of the 10 km course so that I can change into dry kit, I just hope my ankle and foot will be OK.

New Challenge?

I am investigating a new personal challenge and whilst not wanting to give too much away was fascinated by this video which discusses the human being's inability to walk in a straight line. Whilst offering no reason in my blog as to why I thought it would be of interest to you all.

As for my (new) challenge we can leave that for another day but needless to say a map is beside me.

What was I thinking?

I have probably under played my current injury thinking that I have a reasonably good recovery rate but Sunday's trip is a little bit more serious than I first thought. 

On Sunday I had a little niggle in my calf/ankle which I first took as very minor and usually a run out will iron the creases out and it was fine during the run. The stumble on an innocuous root caused me to pull up in a rather dramatic way with my outer two toes of my right foot being bent back making me react by bending my foot up and out to pull the calf muscle. A quick pit stop, a prod of a thumb and finger suggested all was OK so we carried on, after all we only had a mile or so to go!

I got home and like a good little runner got a bag of ice on my calf, foot and toes whilst I had my breakfast with a cup of coffee. Everything felt fine until.......Monday morning.

Monday morning I awoke with a sore throat, streaming nose and a horrific headache, you've got it Man Flu. The problem being that I took various cold remedies that contain pain killers which whilst making me feel better and hiding the symptoms of my cold also hid the pain and discomfort of my foot and ankle.

Stressful day at working after we were summonsed to the meeting room to tell us about the future of our jobs made a run at the club a requirement that is until I got home and was told on no uncertain terms of my foolhardy thoughts my the ever sensible and delightful Mrs S. She advised me about some nonsense about running with a temperature and exacerbating an already increased injury. I have to say she does provide good feedback sometimes....what was I thinking?

Pheasant Run

I'm not a pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's son;
I'm only plucking pheasants
Till the pheasant plucker come.

After a brief telephone conversation last night with George about times to meet I awaited his arrival this morning on my driveway with a slight shiver which I decided to enjoy as I know it was soon going to heat up. As expected he arrived on time and I leapt into the car to find that neither of us had a plan...so on the fly we decided to start in Keston and make it up as we went along, we hadn't even decided on a  distance but wanted to run for 3- 4 hours.

We soon found ourselves following a favourite path that we don't run along very often and chose to run through the Biggin Hill Valley to an old friend to follow the badger and fox trails alongside the Roman Road but cut off early to back track along the road to create a loop and then back to the far end of the Roman Road to go back to the car. I reckon that during that run we must come across about a hundred pheasants all scuttling ahead of us along the edges of fields and the going airbourne with a scream as we caught them up, we commented that we should bring a shotgun next time.

My right ankle had been slightly tender at the start but at the 14th mile I stubbed my outer two toes on a hidden tree stump causing me to stumble slightly and curse the countryside. I felt a slight twinge on my sole but carried on back to the car after a very solid, very hilly and very hot run, one which I drank nearly all of my 1.5 litres of homemade sports drink.

On my return I had a bath and then went about my chores of painting the soffit and gutter board on the extension, what with the climbing the ladder about 20 times my ankle seems OK but it appears the tender part is my calf and the tendon near the ankle bone....a little TLC is needed.

The route was eventually 16 miles with 2420 feet of climb the temperature hitting 23 C and still rising at the end. That was enough for us for today as it was soon to rise to 27 C, just a little dangerous with limited supplies of water.

Into the heat

I can't believe that on the first day of October I am preparing to go on a longish run planning what clothes I should not wear!

On the equivalent run last year George and I ran a 17 mile run, in the rain with the temperature at 14 C, this year it is expected to be 29 C and very sunny. Tomorrow we had planned to run with a group from the club who are preparing for the Beachy Head Marathon but they will be starting at 9.30 am which is possibly foolhardy in the current heat as they will be into the hottest part of the day by mile 15 with very few places to get water.

As for us we are running out at 7.00 am but I will be wearing a vest, shorts, hat and 1.5 litres of fluid comprising 2 x 500mls bottles on a belt and a handheld disposable bottle which I can discard as we get into the run. Now that I am in a vest I better find some sun screen, it is gonna be a hot one.

Fartlek

1. An athletic training technique, used especially in running, in which periods of intense effort alternate with periods of less strenuous effort in a continuous workout.

2. A workout using this technique.

As regular readers will know Thursday evenings are always bad for me when it comes training, I am usually tired or grumpy  and need some motivation to get out of the door. Having been on a training course for the past three days with work I was mentally tired and had to force my way out of the door for a run. So headtorch in one hand and mobile phone in the other I decided that this long distance runner needed to get some speed back in his legs, the only way to do it was a fartlek.

With an 8 mile course in mind I warmed up for a mile and then  ran 400 metres at full pelt and then a jog for 100 metres repeating the process until I was a mile from home when I was supposed to warm down.....but....

I had reached a gentle down hill and chose to RUN home as I got to the base of the hill I glanced at my Garmin and saw that I was running at 10.2 mph......OMG that means sub 6 minute miles, hey this old boy still has it in him even if it was for a very short distance it is good to see it happen once in a while.

I got a right eyeful tonight.

This evening's plan, grab headtorch, run the 3 or so miles to the club via the woods, run with the 5 mile group and then run the 3 miles back via the woods again...good plan I hear you shout.

This evening's jaunt through the woods was a good refresher as the weather has been dry and the ground rock hard enough to be slightly eroded to expose some nasty trip hazards in the form of silver birch roots (nasty, shallow root system) and so took this section very carefully. I was also taken aback when I found that in certain parts of the woods the air was extremely humid especially in the shaded areas near the streams and this provides a new experience I will explain later.

Arriving at the club I again ran with the 5 mile group which I am really beginning to enjoy the opportunity as the people are in it are reasonably new to running or returning to it after a break and it is really great to see the various group dynamics.

So leaving the club and bidding my farewells I put my head torch back on I headed for the woods again. The woods at this time are a completely different place, nocturnal creatures are prowling and ever so often, in the beam of my torch, I can see a pair of eyes dart away, the railway tracks clink as the metal retracts in the cooling air. As I approach the areas that were humid from earlier I find they have turned to mist again hampering my run...at last I exit the woodland path  to hear a strange banging noise and a grunt to turn the corner to find a couple bent over a car bonnet....erm... in flagrante delicto. I am a reasonably broad minded individual and was not embarrassed in the least by the discovery as it was so dark I couldn't see anything anyway and carried on down the road with a series of muffled expletives being flung around between the couple who had obviously decided that the cul-de-sac was a safe bet for not being disturbed but hadn't realised in this part of deepest, darkest Kent, I enjoy my night running :-)

Nice set of runs this evening with the bonus of running with a good bunch of people.

Streaking

No Dear Reader, not naked running but the art of streaking... "What is streaking?" I hear you exclaim.

The official definition of a running streak, as adopted by the United States Running Streak Association, is to run at least one continuous mile within each calendar day under one's own body power (without the utilisation of any type of health or mechanical aid other than prosthetic devices). 

I was on Twitter tonight on a feed with two runners discussing their latest streak statistics, one describing the fact he had run a 23 day streak of ~190 miles and another whose statistics were not available. Reading this conversation and had my head reeling about this and why this would be of benefit to the runner and whilst raising a hand and applauding the persons involved I couldn't help but feel that it was done for the wrong reasons. (Yes I did 260 miles in 30 days earlier this but I had rest days)

This blog is not about slating peoples training plans or aspirations after all mine is not perfect but it is about ensuring that in every plan that you undertake there is sufficient rest or reduction in mileage on a regular basis to allow the body sufficient time to recover. This is a heartfelt plea to any runner to understand that you are not a robot and your body does wear down, I was flabbergasted when I heard one person say they were trying to build an aerobic base having nearly run 1500 miles this year....I think that base is there don't you?

So as I always say "Listen to everyone, follow nobody" just heed my warning, don't use that over used term floating around running communities of "Listening to your body" for I won't be listening to you when your body wears down, don't grumble that you feel tired and then go running, don't grumble when you say your leg hurts and then go running....just rest and enjoy it. 

Here endeth the lesson and open letter .

Wanted for crimes against running shoes

I had to laugh this evening when my good running buddy Robert made a comment against a picture of me stating the above. Little does Robert know that I am a cruel, cold hearted bastard when it comes to shoes and thought I better share what I did to a pair of my shoes which were my designated trail pair....note the spider, its web and a nice collection of cat litter to boot

 

Amazingly these shoes are still going strong and will know doubt get a good beating over the coming months as winter draws in.

Recovery Run?

Dew drenched cobweb

No that was an epic foot journey!

Leaving from Shoreham Village car park at 7.05 am George and I were on an exploratory run to find some new paths, little did George know that this was probably not going to be the case having forgotten my trusty OS map by the front door meaning I had to go back and fetch it on my way to his place. It had occurred to me the other day that we had not explored villages south of Otford and some of the paths amazing considering they have names like Greatness, Widernesse, Noah's Ark and Seal. The email I sent to Michael and George yesterday said:

"I thought we could explore Greatness and once there could run into the Wildernesse, find the Seal that should have been in Noah's Ark."

After that we planned to run without the map...that soon changed.

View north from Seal

Taking the new routes through the new villages we were met by some typical Down's hills which undulated at frightening rate that soon had us panting and sweating, the villages of Greatness and Wildernesse were nondescript with boring new housing sprawled around a clay pit open mine but still interesting to discover. I was beginning to think the visit was a mistake until we entered Seal and found a beautiful village with the 13th Century Saxon church of St Peter and St Paul which backed onto a wonderful view across the downs to Noah's Ark and Kemsing to the North.

Crossing the motorway and railway lines once more we approached Kemsing (visible in the fog above) and for some reason George and I though it totally acceptable that whilst on a recovery run to near as damn sprint up the forehill along an alley to find us both bent double gasping for air, from then on we chose to walk the hill the rest of the way. It was at this point we decided we needed a short break to have a banana and enjoy the view....absolutely stunning but now the mist was burning off and we had some more miles to go.

We soon met our old trail friend the North Downs Way and were back in Otford in the shake of a lamb's tail but I was then heard to say "Shall we turn right here and then just jump off the road onto a trail?" It sounded so matter of fact but I was feeling brave, after all I did have my map with me.

The trouble with reaching known territory is that it is very easy to revert back to old routes, of which I was getting tired of as I have been around this area quite a lot recently so after 2 miles we agreed to take a path we had not been up together to find ourselves in the middle of one of the busiest golf courses around and were surrounded by about 50 golfers. The next mile was one of amusement and bemusement as we watch the antics of some of these people, some slamming clubs down in temper, others driving buggies down "our path" and others driving over areas that were protected by law because of the wildlife, the latter irritating me beyond words. George quite rightly mentioned that this was not the place for one of our Sunday runs as we prefer trails and paths away from people...we won't be doing that gain in a hurry.

The journey home
This was a new phase to the run finding us on the wrong side of the motorway and no obvious roads to get back to the car, the only way was by map and trail. Working the course out we were soon taking paths that we reckon were not used for people for some time, with 16 miles in our legs to be met by four 6 foot ladder stiles some overgrown with brambles, yuck. The last mile was all down hill a drop of 300 feet which ate into the legs but now back in Shoreham people had surfaced and we refused to give in until the car which couldn't have come quicker.

"I thought that was suposed to be a recovery run" George was heard to exclaim. Yes but what a glorious tough recovery run it was.

Back to the trail

This week has been a very short one distance-wise as I have had a lot to deal with physically, firstly I reported restless legs, then I have had to contend with a large mouth ulcer and then mild a stomach upset, all symptoms of being run down. 

So the week has been one of rest, forced rest mind you, which has left me a little down in the mouth but that will all change with a nice run out to out usual haunt but this time with a promise of taking a new trail that will open up a whole new area to be explored....more after the run but it promises to be a reasonably tough one with the promise of a BIG hill....let's hope the recovery will be enough.