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Grantham Running Club parkrun Tourist Trip #1 – Gedling parkrun #47, Saturday 7th May 2016.

This has been written entirely in the third person for reasons I’m not entirely sure about. This is a true story, but some scenes have been made up embellished for dramatic purpose.

The inaugural Grantham Running Club parkrun tourist trip began with a short forty minute trip up the A52 and A6097 towards Nottingham and the 47th edition of the Gedling Country Park parkrun. Whether it was the rumour of hills aplenty, it being a bit too far away for just a parkrun, or I’ve got Belton House parkrun on my doorstop it turned out that the GRC group trip became just a couple’s getaway as Messrs Limmer and Kingston-Lee (MKL) set off on a fine late Spring morning to the former colliery, closed as recently as 1991.

Where there is a colliery there are usually hills and the transformation from coal pit to parkland has not reduced the abundance of (quite severe) elevation. MKL in stipulating the T&C of the tourist trip demanded a three mile warm up before parkrun itself, so Limmer duly obliged in parking at the secondary car park around a twenty minute walk from the start. Limmer thought about wearing his GRC vest on this tourist trip, but decided that breeze was a bit too chilly and thought better of it. MKL, staunch believer in not wearing club kit in anything other than a race, reminded himself and no one else that a parkrun is not a race but a ‘free-to-enter-timed 5k run’ and so went for the debut outing of the voluminous 2016 London Marathon finishers’ t-shirt.

A little stiff in the legs following Ben Smith’s marathon #247 in Grantham on the Wednesday and a couple of bike rides in between, MKL soon regretted the notion of an extended warm up as he staggered up the first 10% plus hill less than three minutes into the run. A mile or so later and the ascent of an even steeper, longer climb, he declared it a good time to stop and stretch. Feeling better for the five minute rest  stretching routine, the intrepid duo headed to the start line via a couple of wrong turns and in so doing a couple more hills. Keen to let his GPS click over to 3 miles, thus having accurate mile splits for the parkrun without need to reset his Garmin, MKL made Limmer run back and forth somewhat aimlessly for a bit before the third mile was hit.

At the start, a good 20 minutes before the off, MKL was most relieved to see the promise on the Gedling parkrun website of there being no toilets was in fact a lie, for there were two Portaloos at the start line. Having feared an alfresco trip following a hefty portion of fish and chips the night before, this was as welcome a sight as water is to a man who has not had water nor a drink of any kind in a very long time.

Five minutes before the off and there was the usual playing down of expectations: Matthew ‘I ran two marathons in less than two weeks and had a stinking cold’ Kingston-Lee went for a happy to finish prediction; Chris ‘I’m running the Bosworth Half Marathon tomorrow’ plumped for happy to ‘jog’ around in 22 minutes’.  they headed to the first timers and tourists briefing. The course was a single lap figure of eight which essentially circumnavigated a pair of large mounds with, for want of a better description, a cleavage to dive down. Twice. There were two main climbs on each mound, the marshal gleefully announced. The first is known locally as the Beast, the second is known as the Cobra!’ With that expectations were down graded accordingly to let’s see how it goes and 23-24 minutes will be fine.

The start came moments after the main briefing (Another Race Director having a Freudian slip, wishing everyone a good race, before hastily retracting and using the correct protocol of have a good free-to-enter timed 5k run). The opening 400 meters or so was all downhill and off shooting into the lead was Erdinger tri-suit man, who Limmer and MKL, using their well tuned who is the competition? eyes, correctly assessed was the man most likely to head to victory  a first place finish.

The path was mostly gravel but it was in immaculate condition – not a rut nor pothole to worry losing your footing on. So it was that Erdinger Man (Later revealed to be Tom Vickery of Cambridge and Coleridge AC, taking part in his first ever parkrun) who covered the first half mile or so in what looked like sub 4 minute mile pace, already miles ahead of man being dragged along with manically over-excited canine assistance; man in yellow vest; man in orange vest; someone else, and MKL in sixth as the field turned sharp left to take in the Beast.

The Beast was pretty tough, twice as long as the hill at Melton and about as steep, far harder than anything at Newark, and certainly something to bring your average pace back down to reality after the lightning fast start. MKL loves a good hill almost as much as Limmer does, so it was no surprise, despite weary legs for the double barreled one to quickly take fifth and close in on the fourth placed runner. It was less of a surprise for MKL to turn round and see Mr ’22 minutes Bosworth etc..‘ close behind and patently not going to run 22 minutes, as the first mile was covered in 5:54. Once at the top of the hill there was pretty much the only section of flat on the course which was tempered by the stiff and somewhat chilly breeze. It was here that MKL took fourth place, which quickly became third when the over enthused dog lost all appetite for running when it spotted a small stream it could have a paddle in.

Parkun isn’t and never will be a race, but there was definitely no way MKL was going to let Limmer beat him at another parkrun following the let’s run together and then bugger off into the distance controversy of the Belton parkrun they both ran at back in the wintertime. So it was something close to full gas for MKL as the pair plunged back down the cleavage and traversed across the second mound. The second mile split came somewhere near the start of the second hill, a 5:42 for MKL showed the pair weren’t exactly hanging around.

The second hill was at least twice as long as the first hill, it began on a bearable ramp, then kicked up to around 12% for around 100 meters before briefly hitting a plateau. Normally you’d expect this would be the end of the hill but, around the corner, came another ramp up then, just when the legs were begging for mercy, there was a final short sharp climb. MKL was hanging by a thread but was relieved to maintain the gap on Limmer. The second placed runner was someway in the distance, Erdinger man had long since gone. He’d probably finished by now, happily quaffing away on his 0%, so you can drink it guilt free at 9 am, beverage.

So the final half mile was a case of letting gravity take over and falling down the hill, past the start line and to the finish, which nestled nicely at the top of the cleavage. MKL came home third in a time of 18:38, which is not that remarkable but is the 20th fastest ever time over the course. Limmer came home fourth in 18:57 (27th fastest ever). Erdinger Man, on his parkrun debut, lest we forget, ran 17:02 – the second fastest ever time at Gedling parkrun. Wait until he finds a flat course and sub 16 awaits! The second placed runner was just the wrong side of 18 minutes, the fact he ran 2:48 at London and was looking for a 2:38 performance shows this parkrun is no Ferry Meadows.

As is customary at the end of parkun there was chat among strangers, united in nothing more than having just spent no money at a timed 5k run. It turns out that Gedling parkrun, despite the very scenic surrounds and surface that is good underfoot all year round, rarely attracts that many runners as it just a little too hilly. Locals prefer to run at Colwick, which is just over a parkrun’s distance away and is apparently fast and flat – when it is not underwater.

With at least five minutes spent reflecting on the increasingly popular pastime among runners of where is the fastest parkrun? Limmer and MKL headed off for their warm down, which Matthew Kingston-Lee had stipulated, in writing, should be no less than four miles, so as to make the trip worthwhile. However the hills had taken their toll and Limmer was happy to call it a day with 2.3 miles covered. MKL was more bloody minded and ran around in circles around a field, then around a football pitch, then around a small car park before his Garmin told him that exactly 15km had been run in total. Less than the planned amount, but a special clause was invoked to declare it exactly the right amount for the training plan he had in mind.

Summary 

Gedling parkrun is comfortably the hardest parkrun MKL and Limmer have ever run. Those who moan that Newark is too hilly need to head to Gedling and see what a hill really is. That said, it was arguably the most enjoyable parkrun for the GRC pair who both have a sadistic passion for steep gradients. The park is a joy to run at and the Gedling parkrun would be particularly recommended if you were training for a hilly race or just fancied a hard workout.

Info:

Course type: single lap, figure of 8.

Surface: Mostly wide gravel paths, some concrete path.

Toilets: Officially no. There were two Portaloos at the start.

Cafe: No. There is one nearby apparently.

Parking: No problem. If double the number turned up then it may become one.

Ratings (Out of 5): 

Scenery: 4

PB Potential: 2

Accuracy: 3 (Limmer measured it as 3.2 miles) MKL declined to measure the course.

Flatness: 1

Congestion: 1 (Single lap course – 115 runners, happy days, no need to get the elbows out).

Beginner Friendly: 2 (Because it’s a tough course, not because the parkrun hosts aren’t friendly).

Overall: 4 (A must do parkrun for those who like a little challenge at a scenic location and also relish the opportunity to clock some hard pre and post parkrun miles).

 

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Race Report – London Marathon – Sunday April 24th 2016

Once upon a time, not so long ago, I would have killed for a time like that…

The taper is always my least favourite part of training. Doubts creep in, the body sometimes repulses the idea of suddenly dropping the volume its been accustomed to in the past 4-6 months. This, I found out today when reading over lunch, is why some don’t bother with a taper. I think, next time, I may do the same.

The 2016 London Marathon taper did not go well. The Chinese GP meant I was tired and virtually jet-lagged. My final long run was a disaster with my weird cramp afflicting me after just three miles of running and crippling me to a halt after seven miles. I ran twice subsequently without a repeat of the episode, but the legs didn’t feel great. The last two sessions on the elliptical trainer especially felt really bad, a cadence of 8-10 rpm less than what I’d easily managed a week earlier felt too much like hard work.

Then on Thursday evening – Prince died. Those who follow me on Facebook will know what the Purple One meant to me. I’ll spare you of the emotions I’ve felt over the past week, suffice to say I took the news fairly badly, a bottle plus of wine later and not getting to sleep until nearly 3 am meant I felt dreadful most of Friday and not a whole lot better on Saturday.

Added to that my eldest daughter came home from school midweek with a cold. Over dinner she decided to cough all over my face. Twice. By Saturday I could feel the onset of a cold trying to envelop my body. I tried my best to dismiss it, put it down to the moderate pollen count, but the tickle in the throat and the slightly heavy legs were a tell tale sign that I was not quite 100%. Ironically this was confirmed with just how easy it was for me to fall asleep on Saturday night. Normally the night before a big race I’d be tossing and turning until the early hours, especially if I decided to get an early night (9:30 pm). This time however I was sound asleep by ten, not stirring until the alarm clock chimed at 4:30 am.

I checked my phone to confirm it was indeed that early. It was. I was informed that Gwenda Williams had taken six of my Strava segments, none of which by legal means. Somewhat oddly I insisted on firing up the PC to flag each and every one of her poorly veiled bike rides pretending to be runs, before downing an espresso, grabbing my bags and heading out the front door.

I made a very late decision to catch an earlier train from Stevenage to Kings Cross than first planned. It’s possible the 7:38 would have been fine, but the night before doubts crept in and I insisted to my passenger, Scott, that the 7:03 would have to be the train we caught. And so it was we were on the A1 heading south at 5:30 am, the roads blissfully traffic free. Scott sat beside me, taking part in his first London Marathon, barely having slept a wink the night before. In the back my eldest daughter and my wife.

We arrived at Stevenage in plenty of time, just as well as the ticket machine proved to be very reluctant to produce any ticket at all. We were joined at the station by fellow Grantham Running Club members Paul and Helen, who were also taking part in the London Marathon and had also plumped for the drive to Stevenage and catch the 7:03 to Kings Cross option.

 

The Marathon 4 at the home station of Lewis Hamilton.
The Marathon 4 at the home station of Lewis Hamilton (when he was a child).

We were soon on the train and before we knew it we were at Kings Cross. I bid farewell to my wife and daughter who enjoyed coffee and croissants at the station cafe. I was a couple of tube journeys away from Charing Cross. Last year the train to Blackheath was rammed beyond comprehension. This year, thanks to being 40 minutes earlier, we had a choice of empty seats. It soon filled, but this was far more civilised.

It should be pointed out at some point that all the talk before the marathon was the weather and the threat of snow on race day. This was no Daily Express sensationalist crap that failed to materialise. Yes, the snow failed to materialise, but it snowed at Liege Baston Liege, it snowed at the Zurich Marathon, and it snowed in London a day or two after the London Marathon. As it was the forecasters were a little out in their prediction, conditions were a little wet first thing, but then mostly cloudy, a little breezy, and temperatures of around 8-10C – perfect for marathon running.

At Blackheath and at the Blue Start I wished Scott and Helen the best of luck as I embarked on the Championship start, which turned out to be a rather small, somewhat underwhelming, enclave within the Blue Start. Arriving over an hour before the start I had plenty of time to arrange a me in front of the Championship start photo. It has taken nearly 20 years of training to reach this start, it may be the only time I make it here. So I was going to get a (not that great photo).

I finally made it!
I finally made it!

After showing my number and confirming that my Kenilworth Runners T-Shirt met with the regulations I had an hour or so to kill before the start of the race. This was made much easier when I stumbled upon my good running friend Stuart Hopkins. Our running and sporting paths have followed very closely together – we last raced just a few months ago at the Chester Marathon, where I passed him at 19 miles en route to my 2:43 PB. Stuart has PBs at all distances just a bit quicker than mine but we have been fairly evenly matched over the years.

By the time we’d caught up on all the happenings of the past few months it was time to get a wriggle on, get in the queue for the toilets (Disappointingly we weren’t assigned one each…) and get the baggage bag on to the lorry. As an acknowledgement of our running talents it had been decreed there would be a road open for us to warm up on. However, it turned out this stretch of road was somewhat smaller than in previous years. You therefore had the rather amusing sight of hundreds of runners trying to run in an area no larger than a small playground. It meant that running was reduced to a jail yard shuffle. I wasn’t that fussed, I’ve never warmed up before a marathon and I wasn’t about to waste my energies now.

The championship starters begin their race just behind the elites. Disappointingly we were around 10 meters behind them. Moreover Stuart and I joined the start a little late, so we were quite near the back, back with the majority of the female championship runners, some of whom were only looking to run around 3:15. This meant potentially we could have a more congested start than when I competed from the Fast Good For Age start. I really wasn’t that bothered though, for a fast start is never in my plans at a marathon.

I was very calm when the gun fired for the start of the race. I’d tried my hardest to not get worked up and that had paid off handsomely. I now had to make sure I wasn’t too laid back and not be able to get into my running. The early miles worked out near perfectly. I like to run the first mile at a maximum of 150 BPM, the second mile at 155 BPM max, then the third at 160 BPM max, before running miles 4-20 at a maximum of 165 BPM. I had little difficulty keeping the heart rate down, as has often been the case. The first mile was 6:43, compared with 6:40 at Chester, 6:23 in the second mile (6:22 at Chester) and 5:56 in the significantly downhill third mile, compared with 6:15 at Chester. I felt comfortable and restrained.

With the crowd support in full voice as usual and the throngs of equally able runners around me, it was not difficult to maintain the pace and pleasingly the heart rate was the lowest it has ever been at the kind of pace I was running in a race, typically 2-3 beats lower than at Chester and well under the 165 threshold. The fourth mile was 5:57, but then I slowed a bit in miles 5 and 6 with 6:08 and 6:11. I ran the first 5k in 19:51, the second 5k in 19:12.

Miles 7-9 were much the same as the comfortable, restrained running continued – 6:04, 6:10; 6:04 for a third 5k of 19:14. I saw my wife at just over 9 miles – a fleeting glimpse. She would have seen me looking happy. It was the last time, metaphorically speaking, I had a smile on my face.

At nine and a half miles I started to get the familiar cramp feeling in my left quad that I suffered on that fateful last long run a week or so earlier. It didn’t manifest itself immediately into full blown cramp, but I knew from the five or six runs over the past 15 months where I have suffered this weird cramp (weird, because it typically happens very early during a run) that it would eventually take control of not just the left leg but the right leg too.

I also knew that, as at the Maverick trail race I won last summer, where I got the cramp at just two miles into the fifteen mile race, I could potentially run a good distance at relatively undiminished pace with a moderate amount of discomfort before the pain would become intolerable. So I tried my best to ignore the discomfort and run as well as possible for as long as possible.

Mile ten was another 6:04, mile 11 6:03 and mile 12 6:07. This wasn’t 2:36 pace but it was possibly a sub 2:40 if I could run a negative split in the second half. As we crossed Tower Bridge and were blown away, once again, by the sheer ferocity of the crowd support, my confidence took a knock as the discomfort intensified on descent from the bridge. Mile 13 was 6:14, the slowest since the second mile and I passed halfway in 1:21:39 having actually just run the fastest five km of the race (19:10). My mental maths worked out that basically if I matched my first half I would match my PB to virtually the second.

This actually didn’t inspire me that much. The main motivator in my training was the lure of possibly breaking 2:40. It now appeared that, barring a miracle and the weird cramp leaving me the best I could hope for was a marginal PB, the likelihood a performance a little way short. Mile 14 gave me brief room for hope. Inspired by the lead women runners on the opposite side of the road. I ran a 5:58 and still felt comfortable. Three gels down, three to go. Maybe I could still do this.

Mile 15 bordered on the surreal. At no point in the run did I really feel the need to visit a portaloo. By mile 15 there was small feelings, shall we say, but I could have comfortably held it all in for safe disposal after the race. Running down the appropriately named Narrow Street I had a flashback to the ill-fated 2011 marathon where, having just made it back from China / Vietnam / Moscow in time for the race thanks to the Icelandic ash cloud, I made an urgent visit to the portaloos in the 15th mile en route to a 2:55 clocking. Before I could snap myself out of it I found myself barging through the unsuspecting spectators and sitting in what could have been the very same portable toilet I found myself in five years earlier.

And there I sat. For quite a few moments doing nothing in particular. This was frankly ridiculous. I pulled myself together and made sure my trip to the WC wasn’t fruitless. I lost a minute or so before the shorts were back where they should be and I was on my way. The crap may have left the body but the cramp sadly hadn’t. The left quad still aching away.

That fifteenth mile was 7:22 including the stop, mile 16 showed I was still running well with a 6:02, followed by a 6:06 and a 6:11 as we headed into the Docklands. Mile 19 on the Garmin is listed as a 5:57 but I have my doubts as I could feel myself slowing and we passed Canary Wharf, which is always known to wreak havoc with anything relying on a GPS signal. To my surprise I chanced upon my wife, daughter, brother and his fiance cheering me in a prime spot at aforementioned Canary Wharf. This put a smile on my face and a small spring in my step. Sadly it wasn’t to last.

It was just after this point I caught and passed Stuart. Amazingly I believe it was almost the exact same duration into the marathon at Chester I passed him. He has been struggling in the past weeks with a hamstring injury and was clearly slowing. At Chester I had no doubts I would finish ahead of him. Here I wasn’t so sure.

Mile 20 was 6:11 but by now the left quad was awash with cramp and the right leg was beginning to suffer too. I mentally gave up at almost exactly the same point as I did last year – the temporary bit they’ve put in on the A6121 where you double back on yourself somewhat awkwardly. It’s wholly bereft of spectators. This year they put on a mobile disco to offer encouragement but, for me, it was not enough. I slowed, mile 21 was 6:57. Sub 2:45 dreams were over.

I think had I not have run 2:43 last year I would have doubled my efforts, tried to ignore the cramp, and battled through to a heroic 2:47 or so. Because I have now broken 2:45 and my only motivation was to try and break 2:40, now that was clearly not possible I switched off, slowed down and went into damage limitation mode. I thought of the upcoming World Duathlon Championships, the Summer Solstice 10k I want to run, the half marathons in the Autumn. What was the point in killing myself now for a time that would be five minutes outside my best? I set my sights on running sub-3 and dismissing the 2016 London Marathon as just a bad day in the office.

Mile 22 was 6:52, but that was the last respectable mile. By mile 23 I was having to stop and walk on occasion as the pain in the left quad especially was bad – as bad as it was on that last long run. The problem at London is that the spectators simply don’t let you stop and walk. They scream and shout, willing you to being running again. Last year I took the pressure off myself, expected fully to hit the wall and embraced the crowd when I did, almost enjoying the experience. This year I hated it. I hated the London Marathon and wondered why on earth I was doing it.

Still though I carried on. Mile 23 – 7:30. Mile 24 was really bad – 8:56. Mile 25 a little better at 8:25, but that included a spell of not moving at all, a few steps run backwards in a desperate attempt to cure the cramp – as it partially did a week earlier.

Thinking back now, bizarrely it may have. Either that or a conscious attempt to increase the cadence and reduce the stride length. The intense discomfort In the left leg subsided a little and I was able to shuffle the remainder of the way to the finish line, even mustering a little sprint finish near the end. In the meantime I had been re-passed by Stuart, passed too by GRC club mate Chris Limmer who was running strongly to a 2:53 clocking, and spotted the wife and family once again, who had managed to get from Canary Wharf to bag a prime spot right next to Big Ben!

As for me, well at 23 miles I figured I had 33 minutes to run the last 3.2 miles. I reckoned that was possible and so indeed it turned out to be – stopping the clock at 2:54:50. There was no fist pump, no smile, almost no emotion at all as I collected my medal and goody bag other than disappointment mixed with resignation and even a little optimism.

As I told, somewhat hastily as is usually the case, anyone who cared to listen that this was the last marathon I’d ever run, I also reflected that aside from the marathon itself, the training for the marathon has possibly left me in the best shape I’ve ever been in. I was second at the Newton’s Fraction Half Marathon in my fastest ever spring HM time. I’d qualified for the World Duathlon Championships at my first attempt, and up until 20 miles I was running comfortably the fastest I’d ever done at the London Marathon.

2:54:50 would have been a time I’d died for ten or so years ago. When I first broke 3 hours I never thought I’d get down to 2:43 with the real possibility of going faster yet. The very fact I’m so disappointed by a 2:54 clocking shows how far I’ve come.

With my daughter at our personalised repatriation area.

I’m always touched when the London Marathon gives me my own repatriation area (K-L…) Sadly it is the furthest possible distance from the finish line. My wife was suitably restrained in her congratulations, she knows me well enough to know that today was not one to be celebrated. As for my daughter, well she was thrilled at the thought of a packet of popcorn and a Nutri-grain nestled in my goody bag. She turned down the Beef Jerky (any takers please do call me…).

We headed to Covent Garden for a post race meal and drink – I just had two large black coffees. Last year after the race I could barely move for cramp for hours after the race. This year two hours after the finish the legs felt almost fine – confirming my suspicions that this was no ordinary cramp. That was almost more frustrating than had I fully smacked into the regular marathon wall.

It wasn’t long before we were on the train back to the car and driving the car back home. The champagne stayed in the fridge, a glass of Baron St Jean rose (Suspiciously pleasant for £2.99 a bottle at Aldi) my reward for my efforts.

The next morning I woke and put in an hour on elliptical trainer. I was stiff, but frustratingly it was still better than Thursday’s efforts. I spun in the evening, by now the throat sore. The next day I was in the throws of a full blown cold. I almost certainly had the cold virus in the body during the marathon. More fuel to the fire that misfortune afflicted my marathon dreams.

The 2016 London Marathon summed up exactly why I prefer the marathon training to the race itself. I love the hard work required to run a good marathon, I dislike the reality that during a marathon you spend the entire race running with a ticking time bomb hoping it doesn’t go off, knowing full well that, despite all your best efforts, there is often little you can do to stop it if it decides to detonate – sending its painful acid through unsuspecting muscles in your body, rendering you powerless and pathetic.

It detonated for me at London 2016. I was wounded, maybe scarred permanently, but hopeful I’ll bounce back stronger and really do forget the painful memories that were the concluding miles of the greatest race in the world. Don’t let the past 3000 words put you off. It really is a fantastic race, the overwhelming crowd support an affirmation that the vast majority of human beings are wonderful people, and that it is the one race that all runners should indeed take part in – at least once.

 

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2016 London Marathon Training – Week 13 (28 March – 3 April)

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.

 

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2016 London Marathon Training – Week 14 (4-10 April)

I was fully expecting to be too exhausted to train much on the Monday following the 32 miles of running over the weekend. It was a pleasant surprise then that the obligatory early morning hour on the elliptical trainer passed without much difficulty, save for feeling rather tired.

I was booked on to spinning that evening and again I was expecting it to be a difficult affair. Even more surprisingly than the hour on the trainer in the morning, I felt fresh and strong from the off and I set a new PB for average watts over the 40 minute session – 264, three up on my previous best. If I could only have my time trials held on stationary bikes with disco lights and music I would be laughing…

Tuesday saw the debut trip in the recently acquired family caravan. Before we set off I put in an early morning hour on the elliptical trainer and felt strong again from the off, setting, I believe a new best in terms of ‘distance covered’. I had hoped to be able to possibly run later on in the day but the setting up of the caravan proved to take rather longer than anticipated (6 1/2 hours…) and with the kids only just in bed at 11pm, thoughts of a run had been firmly postponed.

Wednesday though was a different matter and with the family getting used to, and enjoying, caravan life, I set off for an exploratory ten mile run. It happened that where we were staying, a few miles south of Sheffield, was on the Penine Way trail and I enjoyed an out and back run on what very much looked like a former railway line, complete with tunnel shaped tree branches and very gentle gradients. What wasn’t gentle was the hailstorm that battered me as I concluded the run around a nearby lake. I could barely see as the hail lashed relentlessly against my face and stung my legs and hands. Almost worse still was that the showers were closed for cleaning when I returned to the caravan site, which meant I had to wait 30 minutes before I could properly warm up.

The caravan trip was just a couple of days long, meant more as a systems check than a full blown holiday. We returned Thursday lunchtime, successfully reversing the caravan into its rather tight home after an hour or so of trying. We arrived home in an even more biblical hailstorm that literally blocked my gutters with ice! I was thankful I wasn’t out running in that.

I was though meant to be running that evening, another marathon paced effort with Grantham Running Club. There were a couple of familiar faces and a new runner Ben, who showed enormous promise for a runner with just a couple of months of training behind him. His club debut was something of a baptism when we were struck by another hailstorm minutes into the run. Thankfully we found shelter in the form of a bus shelter, where we huddled like drowned rats for a couple of minutes before the hail turned to merely heavy rain and we set off again. Thankfully the rain eased and it became a pleasant ten mile run, made thirteen miles long by the time I’d run back home.

Friday saw 90 minutes on the elliptical trainer that was straightforward enough; it saw me enjoying the conclusion of the 1996 London Marathon and Liz McColgan’s victory. It must be that time of year when the cycling videos make way for marathon re-runs. It’s always fascinating to watch the old races and see how the city of London has changed, how running fashions have evolved, yet the suffering remains the same.

On Saturday I had planned to do a similar marathon pace and parkrun that I’d done last week, but Belton House parkrun was cancelled on the Friday as preparations for the Belton Cup have made the course a bit of an obstacle course. I delayed my run until nearly midday and set out for a run that had no real intent. I felt a little lethargic and didn’t really fancy pushing myself at marathon pace. Instead I thought I’d tackle some hills and so began with Princess Drive. As happens with many of my runs, a good hill seems to kick start me into action and I soon found myself running low six minute miles – to all sense and purpose a marathon paced run. This it was except I was also pushing on the hills. I headed out to Gonerby Hill Foot, through the village and down towards Downtown and the A1. I was feeling good in the sunshine, although the final 12% ramp of the Gonerby Hil really numbed the legs.

The reason I don’t often run Newark Hill is that it’s not easy to make a loop out of it without either running on the A1 (foolhardy in the extreme) or making a very long run of it on a road that is a bit of a high speed cut through for those who are coming from or heading to Nottingham and don’t fancy getting snarled up in Grantham. Therefore it was the first time I’d run up it in anger. It is a cracking climb – just shy of two thirds of a mile at a near constant 6% gradient. With ten miles in the legs it wasn’t easy going but I made it up before the lactate got the better of me and I pushed on and over the top –  6:16 the mile clocked at (5:40 with Strava GAP applied).

I decided that I would make it a half marathon distanced run and ran the last three miles fairly hard, bagging my fourth Strava segment on the dash down to Living Health (the other three being Goodliffe Road and the two hills – Newark and Gonerby). The 13.5 miles took 1:23 – averaging 6:11 – a good lunchtime run!

Ideally I would have cycled on Sunday morning but wife’s work meant that I couldn’t be out all morning so a run would have to suffice. I was worried my legs would be really stiff after a hard lunchtime run, pleasingly they were very fresh feeling. I quickly devised an 18 mile run on the computer taking in Woodland Water, where my parents had stayed in their motorhome recently and had recommended a lap of the lakes. The weather was perfect for running, a little brisk first thing but soon warming up in the spring sunshine. The route was most enjoyable – I had to chance it a little with some road running on the A607 where the footpath gives up the ghost, but thankfully at 9am on a Sunday morning the roads are very quiet.

Woodland water was lovely, the quiet roads to Hough on the Hill tranquil, save for the groups of cyclists making their way out of town on their Sunday rides. I had a bit of a headwind for the final miles home, but I was able to keep the pace constant for the entirety of the 19.2 mile run – averaging a pleasing 6:45.

A pleasing final week of full training before taper time begins. Again a little light early on in the week but with a highly satisfying big mileage weekend to hopefully give me the speed and strength required come race day. Now for the section of marathon training I hate most – taper!

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2016 London Marathon Training – Week 12 (21-27 March)

The week began much as exhausted and tired as it ended on the Sunday following a monster week of work covering the Australian GP. I headed out on Monday for an easy paced run. The pace was okay, unspectacular. Around two and a half miles into the run I began to feel little cramp in the right quad, similar to what I experienced on the Saturday previous. I stopped at a bike shop for a couple of minutes to discuss a little business before recommencing the run. At around four miles the cramp feelings dispersed and I felt okay to try and commit to my normal ten mile loop rather than cutting it short.

At around six and a half miles, from out of the blue, severe cramp hit both legs in the upper quads. I hadn’t experienced cramp like this since I won the Maverick trail race back in the Summer – where again an inexplicable bout of early cramp hindered me severely. Several miles away from home I battled on but the cramp got worse, not better, and around a mile away from home, coming down a hill, I had to stop and admit defeat. I did under a tunnel arch for a couple of minutes to recompose myself before hobbling slowly home.

I’m not entirely sure what caused the cramp but I reckon it is a combination of tiredness, dehydration, and possibly the consumption of an Indian takeaway the night before. I may be wrong, but I reckon that is now the third or fourth occasion I’ve had this attack of severe cramp following a takeaway the night before. It may be totally coincidental, but there has to be a reason for these early onset cramps.

Anyway, initially I thought that was it for the day, but at around 6pm I remembered I had booked onto a spinning class which I couldn’t cancel, so I hobbled there and sat myself on the stationary bike. I was expecting to be barely able to turn a pedal, such had been the discomfort earlier in the day, but actually the spinning wasn’t too bad. Indeed I reckon it did a good job of helping to shift the excess lactate in the quads.

Tuesday morning saw an early hour on the elliptical trainer, which was a tired affair, especially with the after effects of the cramp still felt in the legs. A few hours later I ventured out on a crap clearing run to try and help loosen the legs. I think it worked, the miles getting progressively quicker to the quicker side of my easy run zone. I was still very tired though – at one point I nearly got lost and disorientated running a route I’ve done near constantly for the past three months!

Wednesday was a busy day outside of training, which meant I had an early wake up and depart for my ten mile run with eight miles at marathon pace. The body and legs didn’t really want to know for the two mile warm up; the first mile at MP was a real struggle, 6:16. Thereafter things got significantly better, averaging around 5:58 for the final seven miles, but I never felt that fantastic, and indeed tired a lot in the final mile or two. The cramp had more or less gone from the quads, the right calf though ached a bit, as did the hip.

Thursday morning saw a routine hour on the elliptical trainer – no issues other than feeling tired. That evening was a ten mile run with Grantham Running Club, with the unexpected guest runner in the form of my brother, who had come over with his family from Germany. He has just begun his training for an autumn marathon and this was comfortably his longest run in several years, but he ran well – as did the entire group, to average comfortably under 7:30 for the eight miles at the marathon pace. I felt fairly comfortable and all in all it was a most pleasing run.

Friday was a day of rest and a day with my brother and his family at a very busy day as we celebrated Food Friday. I felt distinctly sub-par for the most part, feeling like I was fighting a cold – so much so I took a couple of flu and cold capsules mid-way through the day.

Saturday morning and I had to push aside any thoughts of feeling unwell as I had my last realistic opportunity of putting in the long one before London. The 24 mile run is a staple of pretty much all my marathon campaigns, the time spent on feet usually the same or a little bit longer than the actual time spent running in the marathon. I could have done loops of town, but with the calf pain feeling much diminished since the work done on the hip (with more done during another massage on the Thursday) I decided to map out a run which took me out of town and up and down some hills – which I’ve been a little lacking of during training in late.

I was out at 8 am – the weather was cloudy and the wind strong. The first few miles were lethargic and not that quick – over seven minutes per mile as I felt the effects of cold fighting on the body. I had a pit stop at five miles and thereafter felt a bit better, especially once I’d tackled the big climb of the day on the A52 pass the barracks. A spanner in the route plan came as the road I’d intended to run down was closed due to the initial Grantham bypass construction. This meant I had to run a section down the slightly dodgy High Dyke before taking a right hand turning which took me back on to my intended tracks. I had to then make some calculations as to how much extra I had run and how best to revise the route so as to get back to 24 miles.

The following three or four miles through to fifteen were tough as they were mostly slightly uphill and into a head / cross wind which, at times had me near dead stopping in my tracks. However once I came to the peak of the hill and turned direction I had the wind at my back and the pace picked up significantly to around 6:30 per mile. I made it down a steep hill without the feared bout of cramp in my quads. My calf felt good and I worked on clicking down the miles as efficiently as possible as I took to the canal path and back towards Grantham.

The heavens opened a few miles before home but that didn’t disturb me as I reveled in feeling fresh at 23 miles despite having taken on the run with no water, no gels, no breakfast and just a cup of coffee to see me through. I ended up running a bit over 24 miles – 25 and a quarter to be precise – in 2:54. I felt pretty good, certainly no worse than when I was doing the long 20 mile runs with a parkrun in the middle. With that in mind I headed to the Belvoir Sportive website to enter for the following day’s ride. Alas, they closed the entries at 10am!

Undeterred I headed out on Sunday morning to see if I could fit in a 160km ride that may have had similarities to the Belvoir Sportive without actually taking part in that event itself. As it happened I chanced upon meeting up with several members of Witham Wheelers, who were taking part in the shorter 100 km ride. I rode with them for around thirty miles before going my own way and riding the vast majority of the remainder of the ride solo. It was hard going with plenty of tough hills around Rutland and the Vale of Belvoir and a nasty headwind to contend with for the opening half of the ride and for all of the final hills. Despite this I felt relatively strong, taking it fairly easy on the flat stuff and pushing as best I could on the hills.

I rode a few extra miles at the end to confirm that I had ridden over 100 miles and came home tired, but content that another week’s training was in the bag – 67 miles of running, 105 miles of proper riding, around 25 miles of spinning, and a couple of hours on the elliptical trainer. This will likely be the biggest training week of the marathon campaign – hopefully it will see me in good stead come race day.