Project Sub-2:45

Today I had six miles down on the hastily constructed training plan. I decided once awake and being able to walk the kids to school without too much difficulty that I should aim to reacquaint myself with my Wednesday morning longer recovery run – a strategy I adopted in the autumn months of last year seemingly with no ill effects and presumably with some positive ones as my form was as good as its ever been.

I set off to do ten miles, which is handily exactly how far it is on a run I found last year, thanks to Grantham Running Club, that takes me out of Grantham to Little Ponton and back in a circular fashion. The legs were a little stiff and sore for the first two miles or so, but by no means was it impossible to run.

Before I came to live in Lincolnshire, I assumed that it was once vast flatland. Thankfully Grantham busts that myth with a myriad of lung-busting climbs. Today I tackled the climb on the A52 past RAF Spitalgate. I find that a tough old climb is a good way of telling the legs not to bother moaning on something as forgiving as flat ground – and so it proved today. Once the climb was done the legs felt fresher on the run of flat to gently undulating terrain that followed to Little Ponton. A reminder of the recent heavy rain was found at the bottom of a fairly steep hill where the road was entirely flooded with water – thankfully there was a small grass verge I could navigate across without fear of getting feet unnecessarily wet.

Leaving Little Ponton saw the last climb of the day successfully tackled. I put back on the headphones I’d removed whilst on the country lanes – not good etiquette in my book to wear them on the road – quietly cursing how twisted and tangled they could become in just the 20 minutes or so they’d been in my pocket. From then on it was a steady, but as it happened increasingly quick run down back into Grantham and home.

No real pains except the right groin I tweaked a little round a left hand turn yesterday was a little tighter than I’d anticipated. I’m sure I can dial that pain out with a little massage this evening. A protein shake and a good dose of sardines should mean the legs are ready for a long slow one tomorrow evening with the club.

With the base period over and with the Rotterdam Marathon entered it was time to get down to business in the first week of marathon training proper and the first hard session.

First things first there was the morning school run (walk), then an hour or so later and easy four and a quarter mile run, made a bit harder as it was to Great Gonerby and back, which involves a hefty climb which is said to be 8% on the road sign, but on the pavement which veers away from the road, feels a fair bit steeper. That climb over in the first two miles the rest of the run was a simple affair.

The afternoon saw a repeat of the school run. A cheeky few minutes shut eye on the sofa watching snooker before cooking the kids’ dinner, plus a strong coffee, and I was ready for the second run of the day.

I’d considered doing intervals with the club if they were doing 800s, 1km or 1 mile reps. As it was they were doing sprints so I opted to do a marathon pace session. A former staple of my training, I’ve not done any real sustained pace sessions since coming to Grantham so it felt hard going in the first couple of miles, especially trying to control the breathing in the cold conditions.

I soon settled into a pace dictated partly by keeping under my marathon max HR but more by what I felt I could realistically sustain for a marathon. I was pleased that after a fairly slow opening mile, the pace came down so that in the final miles I was hitting something close to 06:10 pace, which is a fair bit inside what is needed to break 2:45.

At the start of the run eight miles at this pace felt impossible. By the end I’d covered nearer nine and felt as though I could have gone on. A shade under 55 minutes for 8.75 miles at an average of 06:16 and it was job done and once again very encouraging for what was surely the quickest opening marathon paced run of the year I’ve ever done.

After the morning school and shopping run – 3.5 miles of walking to be more accurate – a little soup making and I was out of the door for a satisfyingly forgettable run. Sunny skies, pleasantly cool, my now very familiar out and back run down to Dysart Park via Wyndham Park. The legs felt really quite comfortable so most of the run was spent considering whether to do intervals or a marathon paced run tomorrow evening,

By the end of the 6.15 mile run, averaging 7:20, I’d decided I’d make a decision closer to the time. So much for a rigid marathon plan…

My rather hastily scheduled training plan had me down as doing twenty miles today, despite doing a XC race yesterday. At six o’clock last night with legs pretty stiff I wondered the wisdom of attempting such a run, so I had a few glasses of red wine to aid the recovery.

I woke surprisingly fresh, and after an hour or so to consume breakfast and allow the worst of any ice in the ground to melt slightly, I headed out on a cold and frost covered morning – probably the coldest morning of the winter so far – which says little about our winter except how warm its been as it was barely below zero.

To my surprise I felt pretty sprightly from the off, and apart from having to be quite careful on some icy patches I was running far more freely than I’d expected. I was thinking that if I had a good run is average 07:40 per mile; I went through the first mile in 07:30, the second in 07:14 and the third in 07:02. I was on a good one.

The opening miles were slightly uphill on the A607, but that stretch of road feels quick in either direction. What was more pleasing that the run up from Denton to Knipton retained the pace and even when I’d reached Belvoir at nearly 460 feet (I began the run at 170 feet) I felt fresh and it all felt easy.

Dropping down into Woolsthorpe the average was spot on seven minutes. I’d turned to face a slight headwind which wasn’t strong enough to slow but sure was cold. Onto the Grantham Canal and I went through a half marathon in 1:31. The next four miles on the canal were the hardest of the run – it’s a little uneven in places underfoot and with numerous puddles turned to ice I was frequently chopping and changing my stride. I even managed to slightly twist an ankle near the end of the canal; thankfully the pain quickly subsided.

Leaving the canal I’d covered 16.5 miles and I knew I’d have to do a little running around the houses to bring the distance up to twenty. This can be a little self destroying but thankfully I found myself feeling the best I’d done at any point in the run – knocking off the miles in comfortably under seven minutes.

I arrived home having covered 20.3 miles at an average of 06:57 per mile. An excellent first real long run of the year and bodes well hopefully for the weeks to come.