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Day 110 – Back To Reality

After the bliss of running fast near pain free yesterday morning, the hangover came on Sunday morning for the final long run before Rotterdam. The legs were stiff and simply didn’t want to know for the first six miles or so, aching and hurting, not firing properly. I stopped numerous times to stretch, things weren’t really getting much better. The strong head wind was making things particularly miserable.

Like last week I considered calling it quits but I battled on, the thoughts that right at that moment there were tens of thousands of runners taking part in marathons all over the world inspired me to complete a long run that is actually the shortest so far this year thanks to the joys of tapering. At around seven miles, coinciding with the change in wind direction, things began to pick up. I never ran totally pain free but at least I was running more freely and the mile splits indicated this. I ended up running twelve miles with the final three miles under seven minutes per mile.

That done, so the rest of the day commenced with an action packed Bahrain GP and loads of work to be done. An adrenaline rush through the day which saw me unwind by catching up on the Paris Marathon. Kenny Bekele is such a joy to watch running, his form is perfect. If I run half as well as he did on Sunday I’ll be very happy indeed.

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Day 109 – That Was Unexpected

I took the day off on the Friday, an attempt to allow the legs to recover. I spent a fair amount of the day doing a TFL stretch I found and single leg squats, which hurt the left thigh on each of the 150 or so odd times I did them.

Things were looking as gloomy as they have been in recent days until, in the evening, I just stumbled upon a sore spot on the inner thigh, down low near the knee. A little more prodding produced the exact upper thigh pain I’ve been suffering in recent weeks. This was exciting. A real development. I massaged the spot for a while, not as expertly as a professional but enough to generate a reaction. Lo and behold the pain I got when climbing stairs or single leg squats had all but disappeared!

Since the morning I’d half a mind to go out and run the Newark parkrun as a way of putting in a few solid miles in amongst an eight mile run. Now I really wanted to go – to see if the discovery had made any difference. I was up early, and in Newark for 8:30. A two mile warm up saw the legs a little stiff for the first mile but much less in the way of thigh pain than before. I stretched again before the start of parkrun, still expecting nothing more than three miles at hopefully sub six minutes per mile.

Before the off, there was a minute’s silence to honour the memory of Steve Worland, who tragically collapsed and died at last week’s Bristol parkrun. It’s always hard to refocus when the relative pointlessness of running against the clock is brought to light by someone who paid the ultimate price for doing something he clearly enjoyed, but the pleasure that it can bring to the tens of thousands up and down the question show that the benefits still outweigh the inherent risks. It was with that thought that I lined up, determined to enjoy the run, no matter what.

I made a measured start, and was delighted that there wasn’t a sniff of pain or discomfort in the left thigh, Hallelujah! I may have applied a temporary patch, to hopefully be fixed either by the physiotherapist on Monday or my masseur next Thursday, but it was great to be running 95% uninhibited by pain or restricted movement. Despite this I was only seventh after the opening few hundred meters. Not panicking, I soon passed a bunch of runners to sit second, only to be soon passed by another runner leaving me third.

I settled in this position allowing the two in front to ease ahead a bit, but the gap was never more than around five seconds. I passed through the first mile in 5:32, the second lap in 5:36, not helped much by having to weave incessantly to lap back markers. Approaching the end of the second of three laps, it was inescapably evident that I was slowly hauling in the pair ahead of me, who were seemingly inseparable. On the start of the final lap I caught them and without hesitation passed them to take the lead. One runner, Adam, who has come home first at numerous Newark parkruns, went with me and sat on my shoulder. I was enjoying this, I was running pretty quickly and it was feeling easy.

I went through the third mile in 5:25 and 5k in 17:12 on the Garmin. This course is very long, so I knew there was around another 300 meters to go to the finish of this 5(.3)km timed run. Adam sat on my shoulder until the last 80 meters when he put on a sprint finish. I let him go, not interested in chasing a small glory at the risk of damaging the thigh which had behaved impeccably. I came home second in a time of 17:52 which I was quick to realise was a course PB by 24 seconds! From barely being able to run at the start of the week to a virtual 5km pb!

The three mile warm down was not altogether perfect. The left hip was quite sore, although this loosened off as the run concluded. I’ll be interested to see how tomorrow’s run goes. Something tells me it could be quite a sore affair, although I am now, thanks to today’s run, confident that I will be on the start line at Rotterdam in reasonable shape.

Split Summary
===
1) 1m – 5:32(5:32/m) 167/173bpm 93cal
2) 1m – 5:36(5:36/m) 176/180bpm 101cal
3) 1m – 5:25(5:25/m) 180/183bpm 102cal
4) 0.25m – 1:18(5:06/m) 181/182bpm 24cal

 

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Day 107 – The Air Was Thick With Saharan Sand

It was one of those runs I’ll remember not because I ran fantastically – far from it, nor particularly badly – at times it was half decent. It was the freak weather conditions that brought a sandy smog over Grantham which made the eyes sting, the lungs work a little less efficiently, and the skin feel as if there it was being thinly in something not particularly pleasant. Yes Saharan sand brought in on winds from Africa made this a run in proper smog – thankfully it should all blow away in the next 24 hours or so, because no one will want to race in this air.

I missed out on getting to the club run by about five minutes. Truth be told I wasn’t too disappointed, it allowed me to stop regularly when required, stretch, massage, get miserable, get optimistic, get deluded, get realistic. The first miles were similar to recent runs, the left thigh nagging, the hips not wanting to work, a distinct hobble spoiling the stride. Then after three miles or so the pain eased off somewhat and although there was discomfort it wasn’t hindering the running stride. Suddenly little efforts at marathon pace felt really easy and at a heart rate which suggested I was tapering into good shape.

So all I need is to sort the leg out. I’m still optimistic it will all be all right on the night, but at the same time I’d give so much to be in a position where I was fully fit and raring to go rather than wondering if I’ll even be on the start line and then whether I’ll be able to make it to the finish. This state of affairs is not good for the soul…

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Day 106 – Bad, Ok, Quite Bad

A bit like my training as of late this blog has begun to unravel to becoming a sporadic haphazard affair, with belated attempts to play catchup, pretending that nothing amiss is happening. I’ve run three times since I last wrote, a brief précis will follow:

Monday’s recovery run was more akin to a disaster dash. Tired, not feeling particularly well, the legs were stiff and the hips just felt so tight that running was nigh on impossible, breaking eight minute miles the stuff of dreams. The conclusion was that 1. I should have had a protein shake after the run for it was a hard effort and, running early on Monday, I didn’t leave myself much time tor recover, and 2. my running style in this injured state is inefficient and causing a great load on the hips which failed to recover sufficiently.

Tuesday was a club run where 2×2 miles at quicker than marathon pace was planned along the canal. During the day I was regularly stretching the hip flexors in a manner I remembered doing with some success last year. The first couple of miles to the club were a bit wobbly and sore, but once I got into the quicker stuff, once again, much of the pain disappeared. The lure of a Strava segment on the canal spurred me on; the pain as the hips tightened on the way back home demoralised me significantly.

Wednesday morning, first thing, relatively speaking, and I was out for a recovery run. It wasn’t as bad as Monday morning, but it was by no means fantastic. Most parts of the legs felt not too bad including, significantly, the left thigh. The hips however were searingly tight, the IT bands feeling as though they could snap at any moment, the right hip sore and the pelvis aching ominously. Six miles were done, but they were not particularly happy miles. Running isn’t much fun at the moment. Walking isn’t much fun at the moment. The body wants a bicycle or a rest, the latter is probably better for it.

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Day 103–Room For Optimism?

As soon as my day was done working on the Malaysian Grand Prix, I changed out of my work clothes and into my summer running gear for a make or break long run. With the temperature in the high teens and the weak sun trying to shine, I was determined to test the body to see if it is even worth persisting with the dream of making it to Rotterdam two weeks from now.

The opening miles were not promising. For better or worse I decided to abandon the prescribed two minutes walking, two minutes jogging, two minutes running for fear of going delusional if I were to keep that up for the best part of two hours. Whilst the actual pace was not that bad the effort to try and ignore the nagging, consistent pain in the thigh was starting to get the better of me.

At four miles I was actually ready to call it a day and head home. I stopped and, in desperation, did a deep hip flexor stretch for thirty seconds on the left leg. I resumed running and, to my surprise, found that much of the pain in the thigh had disappeared. Were tight hip flexors to blame for all the discomfort?

I decided to revert to plan A and go for it. The long run was back on. I headed to the canal and ran the four and a half miles out to Woolsthorpe. Every ten minutes or so I would stop and repeat the 30 second hip flexor stretch. The pain continued to stay at bay and the legs were running freely, shown in the pace which, before long, was coming down reasonably close to marathon pace. I was beginning to enjoy running again, relishing the pleasantly warm conditions and scenic surroundings on a tranquil Mother’s Day.

At Woolsthorpe, I returned and even though there was the merest headwind the pace, if anything, picked up Any discomfort was coming in the side of the hips and was of the sort that was easily bearable. Only in the final couple of miles did things begin to ache, but I think I was rapidly tiring, being short on sleep and low on energy reserves.

The run over the legs soon stiffened over the course of the evening, but I was at least happy to see that it was possible to run. A lot can happen in two weeks, but I was a lot more optimistic than I was a few days ago. There is now the prospect of taper hell to endure. In some ways being injured makes it easier as I don’t feel as guilty about reducing the mileage. The body is enjoying the rest, for once.