The Monday following the long 100 mile plus bike ride was just an hour on the elliptical trainer in the morning as family occupied the rest of the day. I was out early on the Tuesday for a recovery style ten mile run. Feeling very tired there was to be no heroics, although the legs felt better during the end of the run and I was able to put in a 6:30 final mile. The legs were stiff, the left thigh buzzing like I had a phone vibrating near the bottom of my thigh. It felt weird, a couple of days later though the buzzing stopped and nothing more came of it.
It was just another hour on the elliptical trainer on the Wednesday as Easter holidays restricted the volume of training I could do with a big family bowling trip taking up the remainder of the day. I was meant to run later in the evening but when push came to shove I was just so tired I talked myself out of it. I wasn’t particularly proud of this moment of weakness and vowed to make it up later in the week.
Thursday morning saw another hour on the elliptical trainer and was still feeling really pretty tired. Clearly the efforts of the weekend were still in the body. That evening I headed to the last GRC marathon paced run for those taking part in the Manchester and Rotterdam marathons. The right glute and calf ached a bit but otherwise I saw no issues on a good confidence boosting run for the guys hoping to run 3:20 or thereabouts, with most of the ten miles miles comfortably under 7:30 as we headed out to the canal path and quiet country lanes for the first time since the clocks went forward for the summer.
Friday I had expected to be an enforced rest day working on the Bahrain GP but with the timetable and the small time difference (just two hours) I was able to put in a bonus 90 minute session on the elliptical trainer, which saw no issues other than a headache hindering my efforts a touch.
Saturday I had planned on running the marathon paced run I bottled out of on the Wednesday. As a bonus with the later than planned start of work, I was able to combine some marathon paced miles with an appearance at Belton House parkrun. It was a bit of an effort getting up to marathon pace after two miles run at 8am but after a couple of six something miles, I was able to run the next seven miles at sub six minute miling. The parkrun itself was a steady effort compared to some of my parkrun efforts. I reckon I was outside the top ten after the opening couple of hundred meters and was definitely in fifth after the opening lap, run at marathon heart rate. I allowed the heart rate to rise to half marathon HR for the second lap and as a result I was able to pick off a few more places, winding up second in 18:19 on a course made longer by the Belton Horse Trials preparations.
After a chat with some club mates and a very slow couple of miles back into town with a couple more of them, I ran the last couple of miles at an easy pace as I headed round town trying to find a bike shop that could repair the bottom bracket that was creaking during the last bike ride. The run ended up being 16 miles at an average of 6:27 per mile. A solid effort.
Sunday and I had a late start before working on the Bahrain GP but not quite late enough to get a bike ride in. So instead I headed out for another run. I had no real idea of what I was going to do on the run but after four miles or so I felt reasonably okay and so headed out up South Parade Hill and onto Gorse Lane, before coming back down Swine Hill. The sun had come out and it felt spring like as the pace came naturally down to around 6:30 per mile. At the mid point of the Drift and with 29 miles covered over the weekend I decided to take on a Strava segment I’d not attempted before and emptied the tank over that one mile up hill segment and continued on into town with a marathon paced effort. The reward was a segment in the bag and the second 16 mile run of the weekend covered at an average of 6:43 per mile.
As weeks go, it ended very well but the opening days of the week were definitely a little light on quantity and quality, but sometimes life gets in the way and I was very tired, so the reduced training load was probably a wise move. Just three weeks now until marathon day, hopefully, I can stay injury and illness free over the coming weeks.
Part of what makes an autumn marathon different from a spring one is that, for most, factoring in family holidays around training is going to be a likelihood. For me this year this was a week with my brother and his family in Ismaning, a town just north of Munich in Germany proud of its agricultural heritage, in particular its cabbage and potatoes.
Much as I’d loved to have spent a week enjoying nothing but the produce of the land and good company, training had to continue. The opening run was the day after we landed, made far harder by one or three too many glasses of wine and the weather, which was extremely sunny and around 32C by the time I staggered out of the door. On the advice of my brother I headed to the River Isar which has an immaculate gravel cycle path and is largely tree lined, offering some respite from the heat. I headed to the English Garden, used their toilet facilities at one of the famous Beer Kellers and headed back. It was hard going but pleasingly not impossible, eleven and a half miles covered in 6:42 per mile average and a couple of Strava segments to take back home with me as souvenirs.
Friday was spent in the joys of Play Mobil land, a magical place for young kids that became something of a trial of endurance thanks to weather even hotter than the day before. We were grateful for the large thunderstorm on the drive back home, although that in itself brought challenges – namely staying on the road.
The break in the weather meant it was a mere 22C or so when I headed out on Saturday morning. Feeling refreshed after a day off I soon found myself in my running as I again hit the River Isla. I headed in the opposite direction, away from Munich and planned to head down and back for four miles at marathon heart rate to make it a ten mile run in total. The results were very pleasing, averaging the entire run at 6:08 per mile and sub six minute miles for the final eight of them.
Sunday saw wet and dreary conditions as my brother and I headed out. He would join me for just 4km before I headed back onto the River Isla path and into Munich for a spot of sightseeing. Having been more or less the only runner out on the hot days, there were many runners on this far cooler day. Indeed the German runners, who my brother informed me have a penchant for overdressing, would have me convinced it was a a winters morning, some wearing three or more layers, hats, even gloves. The reality was it was 20C by the end of the run and, once the rain had cleared, ideal for running.
After a slow first three miles, I settled into a pace of around 6;45 pace, which felt comfortably aerobically but I had a few niggles with the left hip and groin which made the going a little tough. It got harder as I hit central Munich – the cycle path twisty and even a little hilly in places. I turned around at just over ten miles, the 6:45 miles slowed to 6:59 at 13 as I began to labour. Still seven miles from home I decided attack was the best form of defence from fatigue and began to up the effort, knocking out successive miles of 6:52; 6:38; 6:35; 6:27; 6:35; 6:04 and 6:12 for the twentieth and final mile. It was a pleasing end to what had been quite a challenging run.
Monday saw a decent evening 10k recovery run on the loop by brother had run on the Sunday. The legs loosened off sufficiently to knock off two sub 6:40 miles to close.
Tuesday saw a day off running and saw my brother and I head off on the much talked about cycle ride planned for weeks in advance. Nearly scuppered by a couple of pre-ride punctures we finally headed out for a very pleasant 70 mile ride. I was on my brothers racer, he was on his touring bike used mostly for commuting. His racer was a little large but perfectly rideable and I took the lions share of the work at the front – only fair considering I was on a faster, lighter bike. It was only on the hills I gave myself leave to stretch myself, enjoying thankfully pain free ascents for the first time in a while.
The final morning saw an 11 mile ride I mapped out on my Garmin the night before, taking in parts of runs before and venturing further afield to a rather picturesque lake, the emergence of which a very old man, as naked as the moment he was born, from a swim, left an indelible mark on my mind. It was an easy paced run, pleasing then that it averaged 6:51 per mile.
The last run in Germany was also the last for a while that I wasn’t suffering from a cold picked up mid-trip. A small price to pay for an enjoyable and productive week away.
Quite a bit like a parkrun, sitting a sportive in as a race report doesn’t entirely sit properly. To get around prohibitively expensive and quite probably impossible to attain road closures, sportives are at pains to stress that they aren’t races but merely events that are timed. Some offer medals based on your finishing time. To make the event even less like a race than a parkrun, finishing times are often not even displayed in a time based order.
The reason this fits in to the race section is that, unlike the handicap bike race I took part in a few weeks ago with Witham Wheelers, the Bronte Monster Sportive was undoubtedly one of the hardest sporting events I have ever taken part in. Its quiet unassuming nature; hardly any fanfare at start nor finish, belied the sheer enormity of the challenge packed into 88 miles.
It’s by no means the longest sportive on the calendar, most like to come in at over 100 miles to make the sense of achievement seem more significant. It’s not even that large an event, with only perhaps a couple of hundred taking part. What makes the event so tough is that in the heart of Yorkshire, it packs in over 22 hills (or Cotes as they are now more familiarly known in the area thanks to the 2014 Tour De France Grande Departe), most of which have percentages that average 8% minimum, many of them considerably steeper. Thanks to the Vale of Belvoir I have a fair few hills on my doorstep that could be used as a test run, but as it transpired the vast majority are mere mole hills in comparison to the sheer abundance of lung busting, leg breaking climbs in Yorkshire.
The sportive was based in Keighley and proceeds were going to the local Sue Ryder hospice – over £4000 was raised on the day. As I drove up from Grantham the poor weather became progressively worse. As I tried to navigate Bradford I could barely see out of the car windows the rain was falling so hard. I pity those who had chosen to leave at between 7:15 and 8:15, they would have experienced terrible conditions, apparently a fair few chose to abandon.
As it was when I arrived at 8:15 the rain chose to stop and the sun even attempted to make an appearance. I took around 45 minutes getting changed, making decisions on how much clothing to wear – I went nearly full spring spec, at the last moment electing to carry the long gloves and knee warmers in case the weather really deteriorated – and set off at just gone 9 o’clock.
The first couple of miles were easy enough as we left Keighley – I recognised the roads from our family holiday a year earlier when we made a couple of tricks to the Eureka! museum in Halifax. The issues I’d had with the gears not shifting properly I’d seemingly fixed with some lube and gentle manipulation – the changes were crisp and smooth – I felt quite proud of myself for this very small piece of mechanical proficiency. The first climb on the Halifax road was 1.6 miles long and a Cat 4 climb according to Strava. I felt comfortable up this, aware that I wanted not put in too much effort too early on.
A short downhill followed then we climbed up Bridgehouse Lane at Haworth (Famous for the Bronte Parsonage Museum) and took a dogleg left turn onto Main Street which is not only very steep, but cobbled. Despite the severity of the climb I was feeling fresh and making good progress. I was just passing two other riders on the steepest bit near the top when…. SNAP!!! I lost all drive from the pedals. I nearly went over the handlebars, my Garmin dismounting from its mount and onto the floor – thankfully without damage. A quick look down and I saw the chain, under considerable strain, had snapped at a seemingly weak link. Luckily I was able to unclip from my pedals and avoided a low speed topple. I walked the short distance to the top of the hill and thought the game was up. A long way to travel for just under four miles of cycling.
Eerily calm, I had a quick chat to the photographer at the top of the hill (Apparently the shot from that vantage spot was front page of The Times when the tour passed through twelve months earlier. I’d bought equipment for a puncture, but not for a chain snap (It has never happened to me before). There was an emergency number I could call, I assumed in this instance it would be to pick me up so I could make it back to the start and head home for an early bath.
To my great relief the voice on the other end of the phone stated that someone would be on their way and would try their best to get me back on the road. Around 20 minutes later salvation did indeed turn up in the form of one of the race organisers, complete with a large white van. Not safe to park at the top of this very narrow hill, he drove me a couple of hundred meters to a nearby car park – he said he wouldn’t report it to the commissaire, which was quite topical, as a rider in the Tour De France had been disqualified from the race the previous day for the exact same offence when his chain too broke.
It was not a quick fix, the broken chain link proving very stubborn to come out. However after 15 minutes or so the job was done and I waved the van off out of the car park. Ten seconds later I was trying to hail him back for after two pedal strokes the chain had snapped again! Slightly bemused I rang the organisers again and I was told a few minutes later my mechanic would be back just as soon as they’d rescued a rather lost competitor. Not too long after he returned; a few more chain links were removed and fixed. We made the wise decision to do a test lap of the car park to decide the chain was in good order. Thankfully it was and, after an eighty minute delay, I was back in the game.
After a few miles I almost wished the chain had been too damaged to fix. The climb out of Oxenhope (A third category climb on Strava, was very hard thanks to a stiff headwind. What made the ride more bearable was the plethora of hand written messages to Tour De France riders from the previous year, still clearly visible from the road. Indeed for 21 miles we followed last year’s stage two route and even if it could in no way compare to twelve months earlier, you could almost feel the fever still lingering a year on.
Having reached the high point of the Sportive early on (a shade over 1400ft) The long descent back down to 360 ft was fairly hairy thanks to some blustery winds. Indeed the wind was quite a factor during the ride – the next long climb up to over 1000ft, the well known Cragg Vale, which is apparently the longest continuous hill in the UK, was into a stiff head wind, which made the relatively shallow gradients feel all the harder. It was here I began to pass fellow competitors, I was no longer the last man on the road.
After the drop down from Cragg Vale we came to the first of three check points which doubled up as feed stations. I took on as much flapjack and chocolate I could muster, and with me also came a banana, half of which literally fell out of my mouth as I tried to eat it on a descent which quite quickly had me at 45mph.
Incidents were thankfully few and far between on the ride. We were warned at the checkpoint that at one hill the road had actually been closed at short notice for resurfacing. Thankfully we were permitted to use the footpath and after a short delay were back on our way. Miles 30 to around 65, which included another briefly visited checkpoint, were just a relentless succession of steep ascents followed by steep descents, the kind of which you can’t relax on as you hurtle out of control possibly just moments from imminent disaster.
Thanks to my chain issues I’d lost my two lowest gears on the big chain ring. Not a huge deal, but useful gears to have on some sections of the ride and a pain to accidentally engage at points and find the chain jamming. Despite this I felt I was riding quite strongly, indeed on Strava I was typically in the top three on the day for most of the climbs, but some way down on the descents where I was being quite cautious. There were even a couple of hills where I made the top thirty, and one the top ten, which I was quite proud of.
That said, by 60 miles I was beginning to suffer badly. Having the route loaded on Garmin was very useful in terms of navigation and the elevation profile handy for letting me know when hills were coming or if they were coming towards and end. By the 16th or so hill – each one marked on route at the beginning and end – and with a series of large spikes still to come, I wondered if I was going to make it, especially as my left knee was beginning to ache quite a bit thanks to a tight IT band. I would definitely have had to stop were it not for it being pain free when I stood on the pedals to cycle – which ended up being most of the way up the latter hills.
Shortly before the final feed station at around 67 miles, there was an option to cut the ride short and ride 72 miles. It was severely tempting – quite a few apparently had and many more were likewise enticed by the prospect of an early end to what had now become near misery. The stubborn fool that I am meant I decided I’d entered the 88 mile Monster and the 88 mile Monster was what I was going to finish.
A quick stop at the final feed station (only four or five more steep climbs I was cheerily told) and I was back on my way, only to be hit by a bout of severe stomach cramps which, if I was running would have been disastrous, but on a bike merely at times very uncomfortable. Still, I battled on. The third from last climb Netherghyll Lane was a 20% bastard – the cadence dropped to a point where pedals were barely turning, those ahead of me had given up and walked. I made it to the top only to be faced a couple of minutes later by the fourth category Dick Lane climb. At 1.8 miles and averaging 6%, on most rides for non Yorkshire folks it would be the killer climb. But after 20 or so of Yorkshire’s finest for practice, somehow I found this one relatively easy.
Climb finished and 80 miles into the ride, I’d thought we’d tackled all the climbs as we dropped down into Sutton-In-Craven, narrowly avoiding taking a wrong turn and returning to the correct route, even seeing a welcome sign post for Keighley, which we disappointingly were signposted to ride in the opposite direction from. A couple of miles later and we took an innocuous looking right hand turn into what looked like any modern day housing estate. This housing estate though was built on Burrows Lane which, leading to Redcar Lane, forms a 1.8 mile climb which Strava has classified as a third category climb.
According to my probably dodgy Garmin elevation data (but gives an idea of the climb), the initial ramp was around 12-15%, followed by a short section of 3-6% where I thought the climb was coming to an end. However a left hand turned revealed another ramp, this time more severe, with a short section over 20%. I’ve never had to climb off my bike on a hill before, but here I had to briefly admit defeat. I walked for 15-20 meters to a point where the hill’s severity lessened a touch, came to my senses and got back on my bike. Happily, although the climb continued for another mile and had a section of only 12%, I was able to recover sufficiently to make it to the top, bizarrely setting the 43rd best time out of 391 riders for the hill segment on Strava. I can only assume that walking was barely any slower than riding at the moment where I climbed off.
That hill done and with 86 miles covered, I knew now it would be downhill to the finish – and indeed it was. In a very understated way I came to the finish to be greeted by the man who came to my rescue when my chain snapped. He congratulated me on my efforts. I thanked him not only for helping me in my hour of need but for creating a truly brutal course which pushed body and mind to the limit. They offered a barbecue at the finish. My stomach overdosed on energy drinks, bananas, sweets, flapjack, chocolate bars and malt loaf, I politely declined the offer, but welcomed a nice cup of Yorkshire Tea.
My official finishing time, including the time taken for repairs and the small amount of time at checkpoints, was 6 hours 59 minutes, earning me a bronze medal. My Garmin time (which discounts any stops) was 5 hours 40 minutes, which was five minutes inside the time limit for a silver medal – which I would have come close to attaining had I not had the mechanical issues. The time though was largely irrelevant, it was an achievement just to finish. Each of the people I spoke to at the end said it was the hardest sportive they’d ever done.
I wasn’t going to argue with them.
Publishing my data – putting the doubters to rest 😉
Week three of Virgin London Marathon training began on Monday with a rest day, albeit with seven miles of walking on the school run and a strength and conditioning session. Not exactly the Kenyan style of rest, but about as good as it gets in the real world.
Tuesday evening saw the first run of the week and, like the previous Tuesday, it was to be a marathon paced effort (eight miles) set to a maximum heart rate. This week however I was to run it with my new club mate and, for the time being at least, training partner – Janis. Although I was very grateful for the company – running at pace is so much easier when you are running with someone else, I was aware that setting pace to a heart rate can be problematic when not alone. The beeping of the watch alerting you to a HR violation is annoying to yourself and especially others, and the remedy to stop the beeping – to slow the pace, is not necessarily beneficial to your running partner. Fortunately Janis explained that he isn’t currently in training for any particular event and was happy to accommodate my disruptive changes in pace. He didn’t quite say it so eloquently – his English is improving, but still rudimentary, I nonetheless appreciated his generosity to rabbit me when required.
After a couple of miles warm-up (Most of it run solo meeting up with Janis), we leaped into marathon pace with a 6:15 mile. After a solid start we improved to 6:05, the beep on the watch figuring a few times as I hovered perilously close to my marathon HR maximum. The next three miles were metronomic – 6:11; 6:11; and 6:14. Entering the eighth mile of the run I began to struggle a touch – clocking a 6:25 as I tired a little and suffered with a pair of ferociously tight calf muscles. The next mile was slower still at 6:34, but it contained a fair stretch of uphill. The final mile of marathon pace conversely was either downhill or pancake flat and was covered in 5:57. This, Janis pointed out, was the sort of pace he would run his marathons in.
There followed a couple of miles warm down at easy pace (6:55 and 6:53) and the key run for the week was done. I was happy with the run, not so pleased with the tightness of the calves and a little ache in the right Piraformis. Happily though the left shin didn’t grumble at all.
Wednesday morning saw a proper recovery run with the legs very stiff from the night before. Breaking eight minute miles was tough as the left calf remained very tight and the hips ached – along with the left shin on occasion. At least the final mile was the quickest of the run, indicating that the recovery element of the run had worked.
Thursday was meant to have me out running in the evening, but snowfall during the day and then a harsh freeze which rendered the slushy bits to ice, meant that running would be too dangerous. I took instead to the turbo trainer, which I’d bought a day earlier and had fitted ready for this probable eventuality. I ran half an hour on it in the morning just to check it worked, then 25 miles in the evening, which took one hour twelve minutes. I wouldn’t pretend to say it was thrilling, but I could feel that it gave a damned good workout as I battled to keep the average above 20 mph. Moreover the still-tight left calf appeared to self-loosen, which was most pleasant.
I did though during the exercise render the rear tyre useless for any further use – the slow puncture it had became a full blown puncture and the worn rubber began to show ominous signs of canvas. On Sunday I attempted to replace the tyre, an event that predictably ended in failure and an enforced trip at some point in the week to the bike shop to sort out my woeful efforts at the most rudimentary form of bicycle maintenance.
On Friday morning and because of some pressing work matters it was necessary to attempt to run back home after dropping my daughter off from school. Not usually an issue, this was made significantly more challenging by the treacherously icy conditions for much of the 1.7 miles. Thankfully I was able to locate the studs that I’d used a couple of years ago to put over my running trainers. These gave excellent grip, so much so that I heard numerous people questioning how I was able to run so effortlessly on terrain so slippery.
Aware that the ice and snow was not long for the ground and that a slush / nothing at all combination is far worse to run on with studs than mostly ice and snow, I headed back out as soon as I could to continue my morning run. I headed out to Belton Woods and House, via Gonerby. Some parts were already free of snow and I struggled on the tarmac. The bits that remained white underneath were enjoyable, yet challenging, to run on. The pace of the 7.3 miles was hardly outstanding, but the effort put in was greater than a regular run and, once again, the right Piraformis was quite tight.
The long run for the week was again scheduled for Saturday, not this time because of a bike ride on Sunday, but because February 1st heralded the start of F1 testing and a long day behind the desk. Janis was up for an early morning (8:40 am) run of my choosing and I chose the Newton’s Fraction Half Marathon course, because 1. with the extra miles from my house it comes in at 16 or so miles which is the distance I had in mind to run, and 2. I thought Janis might like to see the course of a local race that he’d have a very good chance of doing well at should he wish to enter it.
Like most of last year’s long runs, I hoped the average would come in at or just under seven minutes per mile. This was going to be made a little tougher by a heavy snow shower during the run which made the going tough underfoot for around half of the course (I’d gone out without studs as the conditions were good as I’d left home). What the weather made tougher the companionship of a talented runner more than compensated – a third mile of 6:54 and the fourth 6:31 felt near comfortable. Janis commented on the good pace as he showed excellent aptitude for converting minutes per kilometer pace into minutes per mile and vice versa. He also reckoned I looked in shape to run 2:39 over a marathon. This was a big boost to morale!
The first big climb of the run, on Cliff Road up to Fanny’s Wood, was potentially revealing as I – for the first time – dropped Janis halfway up the climb. This was probably because I knew exactly what the hill entailed and knew how much effort to put in, but also showed that I am getting stronger. The subsequent Strava analysis proved this – it was just five seconds slower than my quickest ascent – set in September last year when I was in top form. On the long gradual descent into Denton, the snowfall battering Janis and me reminded my new Latvian friend of his homeland in wintertime. I couldn’t decide whether this was an endorsement of the Baltic country – it certainly made for challenging running conditions.
The next mile or two was one of those what doesn’t kill you moments as we faced heavy snowfall and a bracing cold northerly wind. The fact we ran a 6:44 mile was pleasing indeed. We then had the final challenge of the run – Casthorpe Hill. A layer of wet snow on the road made the climb harder than it already is. Janis this time took the lead up the hill and I settled in behind, doing what was necessary to stay tucked in behind. At the top Janis agreed with me that the Newton’s Half is a tough old race (this hill comes in at ten miles). At home Strava confirmed that I had equaled my quickest time for the ascent of the hill (set again last September). This was most encouraging as I felt I’d not put in that great an effort and the conditions were definitely not favourable.
The Newton’s Half does though enjoy a long gradual descent to the finish and after a 7:01 mile (Which included the Casthorpe Hill ascent), we enjoyed a similar downhill conclusion to our run, with 6:21, 6:27 and 6:29 miles back into Grantham. It was a most satisfying Long Snowy Run – 16.36 miles at an average pace of 6:45, and aside from a brief moment of shin ache, no physical discomfort.
For Sunday I’d originally planned to do a bit of a duathlon effort using the turbo trainer, but the puncture and subsequent failure at replacing the tyre put paid to that plan. I did though finish work a little earlier than expected so I headed out with an open mind as to what I was going to do. From the off the legs felt fresh, almost bouncy, and after the first mile and a half, it felt very easy to run under seven minutes per mile. After around five miles I felt good enough to reckon I could run the same amount again – so I did, finding myself near effortlessly running the final two miles in 6:34 and 6:28, averaging the 10.66 miles at 6:54 pace.
I seem to recall saying to someone last year that I prefer to judge my form not on how well the hard sessions go but how comfortable the easy sessions feel. This felt far more comfortable than any of the post hard run sessions I’ve done up to now in this training block, so I was happy with that. What I wasn’t so pleased with is that the left shin ached in the final mile and, more pressingly, the right Piraformis ached for much of the run and nagged well into the evening – clearly that muscle, or something around it, is irritating the Sciatic nerve. I wouldn’t normally be overly concerned except that this is in the ballpark area of my fracture problems of last autumn and I’m very keen not to repeat that experience again.
In conclusion, a good week of training in sometimes trying conditions. The week ahead will hopefully see more of the same but could be tempered over concerns with the right gluteal area. Only time will tell what pans out.
Week two of marathon training began with a longer than usual Monday run as it was with Grantham Running Club on their Monday Night session. This week there were only two others there. For the first four miles or so I went off more or less at my own pace, knocking off miles between seven and seven and a half minutes. For the second half I was to guide a relative newcomer to the club – Liam – around Grantham and back to the club and the pace slowed somewhat outside eight minutes per mile, which felt a great deal harder than when I was running at a comfortable pace.
Tuesday was my solo marathon paced run – the intention again to run it to a maximum heart rate. Mileage was up a touch on last week – from eight miles to eight and a quarter and the bulk of the run was in the opposite direction. Cold – temperatures hovering at around zero Celsius – and a touch icy in places, I progressed smoothly from a 7:20 first mile to 6:23 for the transitional second mile, then 6:28 for the third mile which included one of the three climbs en route. From there the run was comfortably hard – as it should be, knocking out mile splits of 6:19; 6:13; 6:23; 6:23; and 6:00. The HR though did drift a fair amount over the maximum of 165 bpm, showing that I am 1. not quite as fit as I want to be and 2. my body isn’t yet intuitively sticking to what it knows should be marathon HR. That said, I was happy to complete the 8.25 miles at 6:26 per mile average.
With the HR creep in mind, Wednesday’s run saw me trial the hitherto unused HR Max alert on my Garmin. I’ve not used them previously as I’ve found the constant beeping of previous (not necessarily Garmin models) annoying when you stray into a red zone. I wondered if this Garmin would be a little more intelligent. It was an easy paced run, taking me up a hill I’ve not run up before (And if you believe Strava, nor has any runner) and through Belton House’s grounds. I set the watch to alert me if it went over 150 bpm which it did ion the first hill. I was pleased to see that it did just one beep, a buzz vibration and a message warning on the watch, which it repeated every 15 seconds or so I was over my limit.
This was fine – I’d prefer it if I could press a button after the first instance of triggering an alert so that it wouldn’t beep again for the while you are over the prescribed limit. This for instance could be useful if you are climbing a big long hill and you want to temporarily abandon HR limits, or, as I practice in marathons, run the final section of the race at above the HR I’d set myself for the first section of the race. To the best of my knowledge the watch doesn’t have this function. Despite this slight annoyance I will set it up for the next few marathon HR training sessions to alert me if I creep over 165bpm, as I found myself on Tuesday’s run almost looking more at the watch then I was on the road in front.
More pressing on the run was an incident where I came very close to losing my MP3 player – a fence had to be climbed to retrieve it when it pinged free from my shorts after snagging the headphones cable…. Thankfully I was able to retrieve the player and the clip and the run continued – 7.25 miles at an average of 7:23 per mile.
Thursday saw me reacquaint myself with Grantham Running Club’s Thursday night group. I planned it to be a 13 mile or so run, so it would double up as my long run for the week. Jogging to the meeting place I felt comfortable. At the club were some familiar faces and a couple of new ones – one being a Latvian runner called Janis, who I’d heard great things of – a 2:33 marathon runner and with a half marathon best of 1:09.
We began the run steadily enough but on the first drag up out of town I found myself instinctively picking up the pace, seeing who was willing and able to go with me. Knowing what the answer would be, within half a mile it was just me and Janis running together. Into the dark, and, in places, icy, country lanes, we ran together, sharing the light from my head torch. It was the first time since I’d left Kenilworth Runners’ training nights that I’d been able to run a sustained threshold pace run with a training partner – and it felt great! On undulating terrain, we knocked out seven and a bit quality quality miles: 6:25; 5:51; 6:05; 6:15; 6:20; 5:52; and 6:11.
Realising that I was pushing my luck in terms of exceeding my current training abilities, I insisted, in pretty basic English, that we eased up for the final couple of miles back into town, concluding with a 6:50 and a 7:09. It was then we got to chat a little bit for the first time since the run had begun. Janis’ English is not great and my Latvian is non-existent, but it was obvious we both shared a passion for running, for athletics, and for sport. Back at base we chatted for a while longer waiting for the others to arrive. After ten minutes and just three of the seven returned, I had to call it a day for I was getting cold and stiff. I jogged the mile and a bit back home which made it jut slightly over half marathon distance – covered in a fairly sprightly 1:27 – all the more pleasing because I’d had a mightily painful massage in the morning which tends to leave the legs sub-par for a day or so.
Suddenly after Thursday night club runs being, for the most part, a slow long run, the arrival of Janis – who is keen to train for us to train together – means the dynamic of my training looks set to change. I imagine it will revert to something closer to how it was at Kenilworth, with Tuesday and Thursday nights being faster, harder runs. It may mean that the long weekend run will need to be run a little slower. It may be that I can cope with this increased demand and it will improve my running. Time will tell, but for now I am very happy to have someone comparable, someone quicker than me, who I can run intervals and tempo based sessions with.
Time constraints on the Friday meant that the recovery run was a rushed affair combined with dropping my daughter off at school. Stiff and feeling the cold air (minus five Celsius) I managed four and a bit miles at a fairly slow pace. Worryingly the left inner shin, which had ached on occasion for each of the past three runs, had moaned during the run and continued to ache whilst walking during the day. I’ve not had shin pain for many years, but the area around which it hurts has been a major cause of problems many moons ago – a place I definitely don’t want to visit again. For the meantime I remembered the long forgotten practice of writing the alphabet with your feet and some balance exercises to hopefully combat the discomfort.
For Saturday I’d originally intended to combine a long run with a parkrun. With the shin being a bit iffy and the weather outside looking decidedly icy, I decided to play it fairly safe and put myself on the elliptical trainer for an hour before testing the shin with an easy paced ten km. Thankfully, aside from a brief ache early in the run, the shin was pain free – as it was for the remainder of the day.
Sunday was Witham Wheelers Reliability Ride #4. 45 or so miles on an undulating course. I stuck myself in group 4 – 18 to 19 mph). The opening 25 miles was very comfortable. I sat in the pack, took a share of the pacing, and even pulled the pack back in when I lost some time trying to replace thick winter gloves for thinner ones.
On the only major climb of the day the group splintered. Having been strong on the hills a week earlier, I was disappointed not to stay with the quicker riders – feeling it a bit in the quads and also disrupted by one cyclist’s misfortune of having his chain fall off just in front of me and him then toppling off as he failed to unclip in time. I spent the remainder of the ride solo as I tried my best to stay within sight of the lead group – picking off three or four riders along the way. Although I never quite reeled them all back in – I was happy to only finish a minute or so behind them and that I’d ridden the last 16 miles or so at above 20mph average. I completed the ride at an average speed of 18.97 mph, which was pretty spot on for an 18-19 mph reliability ride.
I’d chatted a while back at the clubhouse, then cycled home and quickly changed into my running gear to run the same 3 1/2 mile loop I’ve done each Sunday since Christmas. Despite the extra miles and effort of the ride just gone and the legs subsequently feeling really tired, the run went very well, coming in with a 6:01 average and 5k passed in 18:46. It wasn’t lost on me that this was nearly a minute quicker than the previous Sunday and nine seconds quicker than the parkrun at Melton earlier in the year.
All in all it was a good week – 51 miles covered on the road and the bike and an hour on the elliptical trainer. I got three quality runs in and the pace generally is heading in the right direction. This week will hopefully be more of the same with a gradual increase of distance. The first day though began with a scheduled rest day, albeit with seven miles of brisk walking with a double school run. It should hopefully leave me well rested for a good marathon pace session tomorrow and a good remainder of the week.
