The festive period is also a great time for shopping. This year, my activity has been very much limited but I did snatch a bargain off Play.com, acquiring the Batman Begins/Dark Knight box set for just £8. Two of my favourite films of recent years and ones I'll watch many times over.
I've never been a particular fan of the caped crusader, but Christopher Nolan's darker, edgier take on Batman has propelled it past the usual sensationalist garbage that dominates the super hero genre. I can find inspiration from just about anywhere and as a keen moviegoer, there often comes a film that really grabs my attention and gives me lessons to take beyond the screen.
It was whilst watching Batman Begins again that some of the themes really hit home. Recall the training scenes with a young Bruce Wayne and his teacher Ra'as al Ghul (played by the awesome Liam Neeson) early in the film. Aside from the literal advice ("always mind your surroundings"), aimed for a ninjitsu student, being so relevant to running as well, he instills in Bruce a mentality that I am fast coming to depend on. The essence of Batman is that his persona is so far removed from that of Bruce Wayne. Bruce was taught to "become more than a man in the mind of your opponent" and by becoming so fearsome and seemingly infallible with his incredible speed and power, he indeed succeeded in scaring the hell out of his enemies.
I feel the same when I'm out running. Well, sort of. I don't have an opponent as such but I am continually battling with my own mind, resisting the urge to slow down or quit and convincing myself that I am bigger than the run. Whenever I'm training, I try as much as possible to remove myself from my comfort zone. If pain is expected, it can be understood and dealt with. The beauty of running is that it doesn't have to be so painful, but the reality is that to reach this state one must push the envelope to unthinkable levels. The test is to become something more than my usual self when performing.
Much of my life is suffused in mediocrity, if that. In a given day, most of my hours are executed well below full capacity; often just wasted. But whilst I'm running I can rise above the usual crap and, for the briefest moment, perform at a level befitting of God's creation. And the beauty is that there is always room for improvement. I will never content myself with my performance levels. I'll always look forward to the next milestone. Right now, it's the marathon. Beyond that, who knows?
I think I adopted this mentality long before running came into my life. As an undergraduate I was an exam machine, seeing Finals as the ultimate challenge. I was relentless in my revision, not allowing myself to compromise on the most rigorous standards. In the few hours a day when I was working, I became more than just a student. I was a warrior, facing the ultimate battle. I try to apply this in any form of competition or challenge; whether it's an exam, Pool match or simply a Countdown game. Why compete half-heartedly? It just isn't worthy of us.
The crucial thing to remember is that we do have our limits, but to not truly test those limits is nothing short of criminal.
Friday 25 December 2009
White days...
The festive period is upon us. Usually, it's a period I anticipate with some joy as it is synonymous with holidays, good TV and snowball fights. There is something soothing about being in the warmth of the indoors, as rough weather batters the outdoor surroundings. This year, my thoughts shifted to those of trepidation. Icy roads a happy 'Been does not make. With the swimming pool and all gyms closed for a while, I am now heavily reliant on the roads staying clear in order to keep up training.
Waking up to the sight of snow has therefore not been a comfort this week. I am continuously monitoring the weather, looking for signs of improvement. In the meantime, I'm looking to focus on the positives: it's a good opportunity to focus on core strength with indoor drills. Also, the bike hasn't been used enough recently so it's a chance to make up for lost time.
In perhaps the most pathetic moment of my running career, I injured my foot in an inexplicable living room incident involving my Chicken Cottage miniature Football. So even though the roads were clear today, any running has been put on hold. Fortunately, it seems to be healing now and I expect to be fit again by the week's end. I'll be going home for the next week and will hope to build up to a long run (14-16 miles) during that time.
Waking up to the sight of snow has therefore not been a comfort this week. I am continuously monitoring the weather, looking for signs of improvement. In the meantime, I'm looking to focus on the positives: it's a good opportunity to focus on core strength with indoor drills. Also, the bike hasn't been used enough recently so it's a chance to make up for lost time.
In perhaps the most pathetic moment of my running career, I injured my foot in an inexplicable living room incident involving my Chicken Cottage miniature Football. So even though the roads were clear today, any running has been put on hold. Fortunately, it seems to be healing now and I expect to be fit again by the week's end. I'll be going home for the next week and will hope to build up to a long run (14-16 miles) during that time.
Friday 18 December 2009
Sink or swim
It's been an action packed week off the roads, as I've been busy preparing for and conducting interviews with prospective undergraduate students. A fantastic experience, but incredibly draining. Perhaps then, it was unwise to choose this as the week to embark on a crash course of four 'improver' swimming lessons. Still, escapism isn't the worse thing and in all honesty I was in need of some tips, however much I thought I was improving.
These suspicions were quickly confirmed as I was clearly the weakest amongst the 6 in the group. It was like PE lessons all over again; not the fondest comparison. However, any feelings of embarrassment and apprehension were overridden by my desire and need to improve. I have many skills and strengths and can quite happily admit that swimming is not one of them, at least not yet. The lessons were worth the £25 fee, if only because I learned how to tumble (a somersault in water; not as hard as it seems). My technique has been corrected and much theory has been fed to me. How much of this sinks in (pun intended) remains to be seen, but it's a splash in the right direction.
I think the long-term solution may be one-on-one lessons, but I am just about content with my current level. If, and it's a large if, I do consider triathlons later down the line, I'll feel a sense of urgency. Right now, I'll look to make steady progress; running remains the real focus.
These suspicions were quickly confirmed as I was clearly the weakest amongst the 6 in the group. It was like PE lessons all over again; not the fondest comparison. However, any feelings of embarrassment and apprehension were overridden by my desire and need to improve. I have many skills and strengths and can quite happily admit that swimming is not one of them, at least not yet. The lessons were worth the £25 fee, if only because I learned how to tumble (a somersault in water; not as hard as it seems). My technique has been corrected and much theory has been fed to me. How much of this sinks in (pun intended) remains to be seen, but it's a splash in the right direction.
I think the long-term solution may be one-on-one lessons, but I am just about content with my current level. If, and it's a large if, I do consider triathlons later down the line, I'll feel a sense of urgency. Right now, I'll look to make steady progress; running remains the real focus.
Sunday 13 December 2009
Upping the mileage
Training is well on course, a balanced mix of the various disciplines each contributing to improved all round fitness. The focus remains on running and everything is geared towards the long runs on the weekend. A 10 miler last weekend produced no real surprises. I was able to get through without any significant setback, despite a sluggish start. However, niggling ankle concerns meant training this week was very much limited to the pool, bike and gym. I did give the vibrams another whirl in the local park and sense it won't be long before I consider using them on the running track; the adjustment to this bizarre looking footwear is seamless. By the weekend, my freshness had returned and I set a twelve mile target for today's road run.
I've noticed significant improvement in my swimming lately; increased stamina and smarter technique is allowing me to incorporate front crawl in up to half my laps. I hope to improve this further still with some lessons in the coming week. I also feel less pathetic in the gym, although my strength is still below par. An improved diet of added protein should help address this and I'm even starting to cook some serious food in the form of chicken, as opposed to simply devouring raw tuna.
One would hope that the sum total of these efforts would see an improved performance in the running itself. My current pace is consistently around the 8 minute per mile mark, which is about where I peaked prior to Birmingham. My hope is to reduce this by about 30 seconds in the coming months, though at this stage it's unclear how ambitious that is. Some interval training around the Roger Bannister track down the road will no doubt help, however gruelling. If my pace was decent enough, the only other measure of progress was endurance. Twelve miles ought to be within reach, but why stop there?
At around mile 6, the motivation really kicked in. I'd just taken on the steepest incline of the entire run and was set for a flat few miles. My legs were in slow decay, but breathing was well under control. Pace was decent, but sustainable. As I hit the tenth mile, I was almost gone, but still had miles left in the tank. Breathing was not the issue; just the lethargy felt by the legs. At mile 12, I dared to venture further. The incentive to breach my previous record of 13.1 miles proved too tempting and off I went for one final swansong. As I returned, my stopwatch indicated that my pace remained consistent throughout. I clocked in at 1h 53, pretty much much maintaining the 8 minute per mile from start to finish.
It wasn't a totally unexpected performance, but it was premature. My target was to hit 14 miles by the end of the year, so I'm now ahead of schedule. I'll use the extra time to focus on speed drills, but with the comforting knowledge that the endurance aspect is well and truly on course. If I can avoid injury, I can look to embrace the new year with my first 16 mile run. Why not?
I've noticed significant improvement in my swimming lately; increased stamina and smarter technique is allowing me to incorporate front crawl in up to half my laps. I hope to improve this further still with some lessons in the coming week. I also feel less pathetic in the gym, although my strength is still below par. An improved diet of added protein should help address this and I'm even starting to cook some serious food in the form of chicken, as opposed to simply devouring raw tuna.
One would hope that the sum total of these efforts would see an improved performance in the running itself. My current pace is consistently around the 8 minute per mile mark, which is about where I peaked prior to Birmingham. My hope is to reduce this by about 30 seconds in the coming months, though at this stage it's unclear how ambitious that is. Some interval training around the Roger Bannister track down the road will no doubt help, however gruelling. If my pace was decent enough, the only other measure of progress was endurance. Twelve miles ought to be within reach, but why stop there?
At around mile 6, the motivation really kicked in. I'd just taken on the steepest incline of the entire run and was set for a flat few miles. My legs were in slow decay, but breathing was well under control. Pace was decent, but sustainable. As I hit the tenth mile, I was almost gone, but still had miles left in the tank. Breathing was not the issue; just the lethargy felt by the legs. At mile 12, I dared to venture further. The incentive to breach my previous record of 13.1 miles proved too tempting and off I went for one final swansong. As I returned, my stopwatch indicated that my pace remained consistent throughout. I clocked in at 1h 53, pretty much much maintaining the 8 minute per mile from start to finish.
It wasn't a totally unexpected performance, but it was premature. My target was to hit 14 miles by the end of the year, so I'm now ahead of schedule. I'll use the extra time to focus on speed drills, but with the comforting knowledge that the endurance aspect is well and truly on course. If I can avoid injury, I can look to embrace the new year with my first 16 mile run. Why not?
Wednesday 2 December 2009
The long run
I've trained somewhat excessively in recent weeks, although running itself has been limited to 10k runs at best. A fortnight ago, it became obvious I was overdoing it in the other disciplines (swimming, cycling and gym) when a 10k run was so laboured I was absolutely spent by the end and only managed an 8 1/2 minute per mile pace. Probably the first time I've felt disgust and outrage at the end of the run. Or maybe I wasn't putting enough runs. Or maybe it was a problem with diet.
With so many variables, the safest solution was to pay some attention to all of them. A week later, I felt more fresh and embarked on another 10k run; moments after completing an 800m swim. This time I flipping the script, producing my best performance since Birmingham by coming through in around 46 minutes. Confirmation that my fitness levels are still there, as long as I don't overdo it.
Now the training proper starts. Three runs per week; one drill-based session (fartlek or interval at the track), a tempo run (5-6 miles on grass) and the biggie: a long road run on the weekend. I'll start with a 10 miler and gradually work my way up. I've not attempted more than 10k since Birmingham but am confident I'll make it through without any real trouble. The focus will be geared towards endurance, since I'm looking to eventually double this distance. I should come home after 10 miles feeling like there's plenty left in the tank. Still, some honest preparation is needed and a carb-enriched diet and measured cross training is par for the course. The long runs are very much the most rewarding aspect of training. Essentially, every training session is geared towards being able to run longer distances. It is only really after the 6 mile mark that one can truly get lost out there. The incentive to recapture this experience is what drives me forward.
I'm gaining strength all over, thanks largely to improved gym sessions. I'm very much a gym whore in that I've worked my way around the university, with anyone willing to join me. As the vacation approaches, I'll have to impose a certain degree of self-discipline as all such mentors will be away.
I feel there is currently a balance in terms of all round fitness and strength training, but the pendulum will soon be shifting back towards running. That is the real prize, after all.
With so many variables, the safest solution was to pay some attention to all of them. A week later, I felt more fresh and embarked on another 10k run; moments after completing an 800m swim. This time I flipping the script, producing my best performance since Birmingham by coming through in around 46 minutes. Confirmation that my fitness levels are still there, as long as I don't overdo it.
Now the training proper starts. Three runs per week; one drill-based session (fartlek or interval at the track), a tempo run (5-6 miles on grass) and the biggie: a long road run on the weekend. I'll start with a 10 miler and gradually work my way up. I've not attempted more than 10k since Birmingham but am confident I'll make it through without any real trouble. The focus will be geared towards endurance, since I'm looking to eventually double this distance. I should come home after 10 miles feeling like there's plenty left in the tank. Still, some honest preparation is needed and a carb-enriched diet and measured cross training is par for the course. The long runs are very much the most rewarding aspect of training. Essentially, every training session is geared towards being able to run longer distances. It is only really after the 6 mile mark that one can truly get lost out there. The incentive to recapture this experience is what drives me forward.
I'm gaining strength all over, thanks largely to improved gym sessions. I'm very much a gym whore in that I've worked my way around the university, with anyone willing to join me. As the vacation approaches, I'll have to impose a certain degree of self-discipline as all such mentors will be away.
I feel there is currently a balance in terms of all round fitness and strength training, but the pendulum will soon be shifting back towards running. That is the real prize, after all.
Bare necessity
I've never been one to adhere to conventions. I'm open minded about most things and will usually be willing to give something a chance, however strange and unintuitive it seems. So when I suggested barefoot running as an alternative a while back, it was not just hypothetical. As my training steps up, it seems apparent that niggling injuries will persist. They come in different flavours and currently it's my left foot that is causing problems. It is mild enough for now and certainly not severe enough to have to consult my physio, but the usual remedies are proving ineffective. I'll not be deterred from a full training regime just yet and will monitor the situation, taking a step back if necessary.
These doubts suggested I ought to consider the Vibrams seriously. They seem to be growing in popularity and I've heard from many sources that they reduce the risk and severity of injury massively. With an influx of Eid money, I had the financial means and without hesitation ordered a pair online. Within days, the moment arrived when I finally got to hold my new babies; except, they weren't quite what I imagined. No picture can fully prepare you for the Vibram FiveFingers. Put simply, they look ridiculous and it's hard to see how their £75 price tag is justified. Still, it's what's on the inside that counts (so I'm told), except there wasn't much going on there either. It certainly took long enough to even get my toes in their individual slots (not as easy as it seems but I may just have nailed it by now). Once on, I barely felt a thing. That's the point of course; these glove-like shoes are designed to simulate the barefoot experience.
Since any transition to barefoot running will take time, I've decided to limit them to one run per week and only on grass for now. Today was the day to really put them to the test; a casual 40 minute run in the local park. Within moments, my feet and the shoes were soaked with all kinds of crap as I paced up the boggy hill (no socks, of course). It was tempting to just go home at this point but I embraced the thought of being so far out of my comfort zone and continued, despite the wet and slippy conditions. I was soon lost in the wonderful world of isolated, barefoot-like running. By the end, the shoes seemed to have aged a decade and headed straight for the washing machine. On a positive note, the promised joy of wearing these seemed to be delivered in parts, at least. There were moments, and they were only moments, where I could literally believe that I was actually barefoot. At times I was sprinting with ease and having full use of every bone and muscle in the foot was liberating. Maybe it's an exaggeration, but my hope is that before long I'll be so used to them that these moments will very much become the norm. At that point, I'll step it up to the running track and then ultimately to asphalt.
My left foot felt fine throughout as did the rest of my lower body. This may be more down to the fact that it was a relatively short run but the initial impressions are good. Runner 'Been may just become Barefoot 'Been.
These doubts suggested I ought to consider the Vibrams seriously. They seem to be growing in popularity and I've heard from many sources that they reduce the risk and severity of injury massively. With an influx of Eid money, I had the financial means and without hesitation ordered a pair online. Within days, the moment arrived when I finally got to hold my new babies; except, they weren't quite what I imagined. No picture can fully prepare you for the Vibram FiveFingers. Put simply, they look ridiculous and it's hard to see how their £75 price tag is justified. Still, it's what's on the inside that counts (so I'm told), except there wasn't much going on there either. It certainly took long enough to even get my toes in their individual slots (not as easy as it seems but I may just have nailed it by now). Once on, I barely felt a thing. That's the point of course; these glove-like shoes are designed to simulate the barefoot experience.
Since any transition to barefoot running will take time, I've decided to limit them to one run per week and only on grass for now. Today was the day to really put them to the test; a casual 40 minute run in the local park. Within moments, my feet and the shoes were soaked with all kinds of crap as I paced up the boggy hill (no socks, of course). It was tempting to just go home at this point but I embraced the thought of being so far out of my comfort zone and continued, despite the wet and slippy conditions. I was soon lost in the wonderful world of isolated, barefoot-like running. By the end, the shoes seemed to have aged a decade and headed straight for the washing machine. On a positive note, the promised joy of wearing these seemed to be delivered in parts, at least. There were moments, and they were only moments, where I could literally believe that I was actually barefoot. At times I was sprinting with ease and having full use of every bone and muscle in the foot was liberating. Maybe it's an exaggeration, but my hope is that before long I'll be so used to them that these moments will very much become the norm. At that point, I'll step it up to the running track and then ultimately to asphalt.
My left foot felt fine throughout as did the rest of my lower body. This may be more down to the fact that it was a relatively short run but the initial impressions are good. Runner 'Been may just become Barefoot 'Been.
Tuesday 17 November 2009
Mubeenadonna vs Runner 'Been
I've always loved Football. Not quite my first sporting passion (Snooker prevailed in the early years) but definitely the one that has sustained the test of time. Playing, watching, debating and dreaming: my love for this game is undeniable. As is the fact that I am actually useless on the pitch. The odd moment of brilliance notwithstanding, of course. I have produced rare moments of magic in an otherwise shambolic career.
A few months ago I gave up all such high intensity sport to focus purely on running. However, I pondered whether my new found fitness levels would turn me into the type of player my fans dreamt I'd become. So I ventured to ISOC Football last Friday in a bid to find out once and for all. Ninety minutes later and I had my answer: all the fitness in the world will not overcome my incompetency. Despite snatching a win with two late goals, it is apparent that the time of Mubeenadonna is well and truly at an end.
I need to dedicate my efforts and limited time to those pursuits which I can excel at. I believe in Runner 'Been; having achieved so much already and with no obvious end in sight. Why bother with half-hearted efforts? Moreover, Football puts so much strain on the legs and I felt more fatigued on Saturday morning than at any point since Birmingham. No more, thank you. It's strictly running from here on in.
Make no mistake, my passion for Football remains strong, but I am resigned to purely a spectator role. I belong on the roads where I can perform at a decent level. I refuse to submit to mediocrity. However, it's more than just a case of choosing running because I'm better at it. Sure, that is no doubt a factor and adds fuel to my motivation, but with running there is an everlasting sense of peace and accomplishment attached; even to basic 10k runs. The best feelings I've had with playing Football have always expired by the week's end. Running stays with me constantly and, to a large extent, shapes my mood and outlook on life; mostly for the good. Why would I ever compromise that? I won't put running at risk for anything. Runner 'Been is here to stay.
A few months ago I gave up all such high intensity sport to focus purely on running. However, I pondered whether my new found fitness levels would turn me into the type of player my fans dreamt I'd become. So I ventured to ISOC Football last Friday in a bid to find out once and for all. Ninety minutes later and I had my answer: all the fitness in the world will not overcome my incompetency. Despite snatching a win with two late goals, it is apparent that the time of Mubeenadonna is well and truly at an end.
I need to dedicate my efforts and limited time to those pursuits which I can excel at. I believe in Runner 'Been; having achieved so much already and with no obvious end in sight. Why bother with half-hearted efforts? Moreover, Football puts so much strain on the legs and I felt more fatigued on Saturday morning than at any point since Birmingham. No more, thank you. It's strictly running from here on in.
Make no mistake, my passion for Football remains strong, but I am resigned to purely a spectator role. I belong on the roads where I can perform at a decent level. I refuse to submit to mediocrity. However, it's more than just a case of choosing running because I'm better at it. Sure, that is no doubt a factor and adds fuel to my motivation, but with running there is an everlasting sense of peace and accomplishment attached; even to basic 10k runs. The best feelings I've had with playing Football have always expired by the week's end. Running stays with me constantly and, to a large extent, shapes my mood and outlook on life; mostly for the good. Why would I ever compromise that? I won't put running at risk for anything. Runner 'Been is here to stay.
Break's (almost) over
My training is very much in full swing; I'm doing around 10-12 sessions a week at the moment. My sessions come in 4 brands: swimming, cycling (indoor exercise bike), gym (strength training) and of course running. However, since Birmingham I've relaxed on the running, but used the other disciplines to maintain and hopefully improve fitness levels. My left foot remains a worry so I have eased off on the running, which will also hopefully give added freshness.
Still, the clock is ticking and the Paris Marathon is now five months away. I think it's time to start the real training, by which I mean 3 runs per week, at the heart of which will be my long runs on weekends. I feel ready to start at the 10 mile mark and slowly work my way up. It's crucial to strike a balance between pushing myself and burning out. My other two runs will be a 10k tempo run and intense drill; fartlek or interval.
This schedule alone proved sufficient for the half-marathon and cross training was minimal at best. However, the task has gone up a few notches and to complete a 26.2 mile race, I'll need to draw strength and speed from wherever I can find it. So swimming, cycling and gym will remain a key part of the regime. Gym sessions in particular are a lot more focussed; I am working my way around various gyms within the university, using some purely for calf work and others for upper body.
There is also a 5th variable: diet. I am consciously taking in more protein with a view to build up some strength. I could do with putting on a few kilos but will aim to stay below 65kg. Given that I have digestion issues (more on this another time), this should be easy enough.
I'll be resuming a full schedule next week; the incentive to build up to regular 15+ mile runs is incredible; I just need to take care to avoid a significant injury. So far so good, but I'm set for unchartered territory and have little idea what to expect. Make no mistake, the first marathon is the most daunting. With that, comes the most excitement and my fuel to up the training.
Still, the clock is ticking and the Paris Marathon is now five months away. I think it's time to start the real training, by which I mean 3 runs per week, at the heart of which will be my long runs on weekends. I feel ready to start at the 10 mile mark and slowly work my way up. It's crucial to strike a balance between pushing myself and burning out. My other two runs will be a 10k tempo run and intense drill; fartlek or interval.
This schedule alone proved sufficient for the half-marathon and cross training was minimal at best. However, the task has gone up a few notches and to complete a 26.2 mile race, I'll need to draw strength and speed from wherever I can find it. So swimming, cycling and gym will remain a key part of the regime. Gym sessions in particular are a lot more focussed; I am working my way around various gyms within the university, using some purely for calf work and others for upper body.
There is also a 5th variable: diet. I am consciously taking in more protein with a view to build up some strength. I could do with putting on a few kilos but will aim to stay below 65kg. Given that I have digestion issues (more on this another time), this should be easy enough.
I'll be resuming a full schedule next week; the incentive to build up to regular 15+ mile runs is incredible; I just need to take care to avoid a significant injury. So far so good, but I'm set for unchartered territory and have little idea what to expect. Make no mistake, the first marathon is the most daunting. With that, comes the most excitement and my fuel to up the training.
Monday 9 November 2009
Driving force
I'm currently feeling a real itch to train, well aware that a simple cold or injury could force me out of action for an extended period of time. Whilst I'm fit and healthy, why not up the ante? I'm certainly feeling motivated enough and am genuinely enjoying the increased workload. I'm committing 2 sessions on most days, with the occasional reprieve. This weekend represented perhaps my most active weekend of training yet. A 1km swim and intense 30min bike session on Saturday, followed by another 1km swim and 10k run on Sunday. My fitness seems to be returning and perhaps even improving; I completed the last 5k in 23 minutes, although I was almost at full pelt.
My left foot is causing some problems; it feels like a bruising and won't budge, but I'm hopeful it's nothing too serious. I'm seeing a physio for the first time on Wednesday which will hopefully give me a clearer sense of how to protect myself from the rigours of training.
What is certain is that I have no intention of letting up any time soon. With aspirations to run a full marathon in April, laziness or complacency just aren't in my vocabulary right now. If I had the time and strength, I'd train even harder but I appreciate the value of a measured approach and it is prudent to slowly build up momentum.
It still baffles me to think that only 6 months ago, I had never done any serious fitness training. Naturally, I wonder where my motivation is derived from. Sure, I enjoy training but it is almost an obsession; just going a day without a workout seems like a waste. It seems then, that I've experienced a transformation in my mentality.
Except, upon deeper reflection there may be more to it. On Saturday I had dinner with a whole host of former college friends who were visiting for the day. In particular, it was a great pleasure to catch up with Hiten Patel, a former Maths colleague of mine at St Anne's and one of the best students of our time. This is a guy whose endless supply of positive energy will sweep you back to your youth, who fills the room with joy upon entering with his glimmering smile but who possesses a profound sense of intellect and intelligence that can benefit just about anyone. A winning combination. We discussed my running progress (Hiten himself recently completed a 10k run) and he pinpointed the reason for my success so far. I don't take on challenges lightly. When I commit to something, it is with the uncompromising aim of performing to the best of my ability.
Take Countdown, Pool and Mathematics; the three biggest challenges I've undertaken in recent years (although hopefully not in that order). As an undergrad mathmo, I saw every exam as a competition and relished the days where I could go one-on-one and make good of all the hard work I'd done. I left no stone uncovered in my revision, a perfectionist approach, aiming for top marks every time. Whilst I didn't achieve this every time (in fact, hardly ever), I certainly surpassed even my wildest expectations. Same for Countdown; hours of seemingly futile training paid off immeasurably, although I am eager to point out that I have much to owe to good fortune there too. Pool: seemingly trivial, yet I convinced myself it was the most important game in the world and over a few years went from a one shot wonder to university level player.
There is a pattern: I only take on something if I am passionate enough about it to take it as far as it can go. Our time in this life is finite; why waste it with half-baked efforts? Either do something as well as you're capable of doing it, or don't even bother unpacking. You'll find that when you do, you can learn lessons you never knew were out there. I owe so much to my experiences in these various pursuits, but only because I took them so seriously and opened the door to a whole new world of possibilities.
Running is no different and represents what is current. It is the latest and perhaps most significant challenge I've taken on so far. I intend and hope for it to stay with me for a long time yet, although I expect that it is in these early days that I really reach for the sky: a sub 3hr 30 marathon was inconceivable a year ago and still is, but as long as I have the belief and passion, and a bit of luck, there's no reason I can't continue to push the envelope.
My left foot is causing some problems; it feels like a bruising and won't budge, but I'm hopeful it's nothing too serious. I'm seeing a physio for the first time on Wednesday which will hopefully give me a clearer sense of how to protect myself from the rigours of training.
What is certain is that I have no intention of letting up any time soon. With aspirations to run a full marathon in April, laziness or complacency just aren't in my vocabulary right now. If I had the time and strength, I'd train even harder but I appreciate the value of a measured approach and it is prudent to slowly build up momentum.
It still baffles me to think that only 6 months ago, I had never done any serious fitness training. Naturally, I wonder where my motivation is derived from. Sure, I enjoy training but it is almost an obsession; just going a day without a workout seems like a waste. It seems then, that I've experienced a transformation in my mentality.
Except, upon deeper reflection there may be more to it. On Saturday I had dinner with a whole host of former college friends who were visiting for the day. In particular, it was a great pleasure to catch up with Hiten Patel, a former Maths colleague of mine at St Anne's and one of the best students of our time. This is a guy whose endless supply of positive energy will sweep you back to your youth, who fills the room with joy upon entering with his glimmering smile but who possesses a profound sense of intellect and intelligence that can benefit just about anyone. A winning combination. We discussed my running progress (Hiten himself recently completed a 10k run) and he pinpointed the reason for my success so far. I don't take on challenges lightly. When I commit to something, it is with the uncompromising aim of performing to the best of my ability.
Take Countdown, Pool and Mathematics; the three biggest challenges I've undertaken in recent years (although hopefully not in that order). As an undergrad mathmo, I saw every exam as a competition and relished the days where I could go one-on-one and make good of all the hard work I'd done. I left no stone uncovered in my revision, a perfectionist approach, aiming for top marks every time. Whilst I didn't achieve this every time (in fact, hardly ever), I certainly surpassed even my wildest expectations. Same for Countdown; hours of seemingly futile training paid off immeasurably, although I am eager to point out that I have much to owe to good fortune there too. Pool: seemingly trivial, yet I convinced myself it was the most important game in the world and over a few years went from a one shot wonder to university level player.
There is a pattern: I only take on something if I am passionate enough about it to take it as far as it can go. Our time in this life is finite; why waste it with half-baked efforts? Either do something as well as you're capable of doing it, or don't even bother unpacking. You'll find that when you do, you can learn lessons you never knew were out there. I owe so much to my experiences in these various pursuits, but only because I took them so seriously and opened the door to a whole new world of possibilities.
Running is no different and represents what is current. It is the latest and perhaps most significant challenge I've taken on so far. I intend and hope for it to stay with me for a long time yet, although I expect that it is in these early days that I really reach for the sky: a sub 3hr 30 marathon was inconceivable a year ago and still is, but as long as I have the belief and passion, and a bit of luck, there's no reason I can't continue to push the envelope.
Wednesday 4 November 2009
Back in the groove
Following my withdrawl from the Coventry half-marathon, I decided to take a short break from any excessive training. I say decided, as if I had any choice, but the truth is I was laid up in bed with a cold/chest infection that wouldn't budge, restricting my ability to leave the flat, let alone embark on a run. My fitness levels have no doubt dropped and a return to the gym suggested I've surrendered some strength too.
Fast forward about a week: the infection has gone and I am slowly but surely getting my mojo back. I've decided to focus most of my training on the other disciplines for the short term; swimming, cycling and gym work. My legs feel fresh but until I see a physio I don't want to risk a significant injury. I certainly feel an itch to get back on the roads and it would be futile to withdraw completely. So I'll embark on a couple of 10k runs every week for now, which should give me my fix without putting too much strain on the legs. I hit the roads this morning in chilly conditions; an early reminder of the tough training period ahead. Still, I have all the necessary gear to survive the wintery conditions, except gloves. A weekend shop should take care of that.
My training for the half-marathon was consistent and intense, but I never really felt I'd pushed my limits. I was only running 3-4 times per week and could have afforded far more attention to cross training. My diet improved, but it's clear I'm not getting enough protein. I'm approaching the full marathon with real intent; I will improve all aspects of my game. I will put in 2 sessions on most days; mixing it up sufficiently so that I don't burn out. My diet will become stricter and my runs much quicker. No more casual jogging; from now on it's fartlek, interval and tempo runs all the way. Swimming sessions will be shorter and faster; I hope that soon breast-stroke will be a mere luxury. Similarly with the cycling. Gym sessions will focus a lot more on the lower body; particularly in building up the calf muscles, which is necessary if I am to cope with the longer distances.
Whilst a full marathon remains the big target, there will be more emphasis on general all round fitness. I won't be delving into the longer runs until December at least. I hope that by then, my fitness levels will be above and beyond where they were last month.
I'll be seeing a physio next week to seek advice on how to protect my knees. Even though they feel fine, I'm well aware of how close they were to succumbing last month. If I am to regularly run distances over 10 miles in the coming months, I'd better not play the hero and refuse counsel.
Fast forward about a week: the infection has gone and I am slowly but surely getting my mojo back. I've decided to focus most of my training on the other disciplines for the short term; swimming, cycling and gym work. My legs feel fresh but until I see a physio I don't want to risk a significant injury. I certainly feel an itch to get back on the roads and it would be futile to withdraw completely. So I'll embark on a couple of 10k runs every week for now, which should give me my fix without putting too much strain on the legs. I hit the roads this morning in chilly conditions; an early reminder of the tough training period ahead. Still, I have all the necessary gear to survive the wintery conditions, except gloves. A weekend shop should take care of that.
My training for the half-marathon was consistent and intense, but I never really felt I'd pushed my limits. I was only running 3-4 times per week and could have afforded far more attention to cross training. My diet improved, but it's clear I'm not getting enough protein. I'm approaching the full marathon with real intent; I will improve all aspects of my game. I will put in 2 sessions on most days; mixing it up sufficiently so that I don't burn out. My diet will become stricter and my runs much quicker. No more casual jogging; from now on it's fartlek, interval and tempo runs all the way. Swimming sessions will be shorter and faster; I hope that soon breast-stroke will be a mere luxury. Similarly with the cycling. Gym sessions will focus a lot more on the lower body; particularly in building up the calf muscles, which is necessary if I am to cope with the longer distances.
Whilst a full marathon remains the big target, there will be more emphasis on general all round fitness. I won't be delving into the longer runs until December at least. I hope that by then, my fitness levels will be above and beyond where they were last month.
I'll be seeing a physio next week to seek advice on how to protect my knees. Even though they feel fine, I'm well aware of how close they were to succumbing last month. If I am to regularly run distances over 10 miles in the coming months, I'd better not play the hero and refuse counsel.
Friday 23 October 2009
The next step
I don't do things by halves. Except marathons, it seems. Although Birmingham, whilst the biggest physical challenge I've ever taken, was only ever meant to be a key stepping stone to the real prize: completing my first full marathon.
When I started running seriously in April a full marathon seemed a million miles off. Then, after some thought, I realised it was actually 26.2 miles away. As I covered more distance in my runs, this figure tumbled and now I feel I'm closer than ever. In some ways, the hard work is done; I've broken the important early thresholds and am now able to sustain a decent pace for around 90-120 minutes. I think if I relaxed my pace slightly, say to 8 minutes per mile, I could survive a slightly longer distance than a half-marathon; probably around 15-16 miles. However, making the jumps up to the 20-22 mile mark, which is where one should peak in their training, will take months of hard work. This is very much unchartered territory and despite my progress, I'm far from ready. I feel my legs need to be much stronger to survive such distances. I've made great leaps in the last few months and perhaps the greatest reward is that I now have the belief that I am bigger than the marathon. I'm well aware that there is much suffering to come. But much joy too, of course.
So I'll take some time off to give the knees a rest and will start seeing a physio regularly. I'll do some gentle 10k runs but most of my training over the next few weeks will be in the swimming pool and on the exercise bike. I will also step up gym sessions and focus much more on building the calf muscles.
So all that's left is to choose a suitable marathon to enter. London seems too epic as a starter, and is very hard to get into. So I've chosen the next best thing; Paris.
April 11th; almost 6 months from now. The clock is ticking. More on this soon.
When I started running seriously in April a full marathon seemed a million miles off. Then, after some thought, I realised it was actually 26.2 miles away. As I covered more distance in my runs, this figure tumbled and now I feel I'm closer than ever. In some ways, the hard work is done; I've broken the important early thresholds and am now able to sustain a decent pace for around 90-120 minutes. I think if I relaxed my pace slightly, say to 8 minutes per mile, I could survive a slightly longer distance than a half-marathon; probably around 15-16 miles. However, making the jumps up to the 20-22 mile mark, which is where one should peak in their training, will take months of hard work. This is very much unchartered territory and despite my progress, I'm far from ready. I feel my legs need to be much stronger to survive such distances. I've made great leaps in the last few months and perhaps the greatest reward is that I now have the belief that I am bigger than the marathon. I'm well aware that there is much suffering to come. But much joy too, of course.
So I'll take some time off to give the knees a rest and will start seeing a physio regularly. I'll do some gentle 10k runs but most of my training over the next few weeks will be in the swimming pool and on the exercise bike. I will also step up gym sessions and focus much more on building the calf muscles.
So all that's left is to choose a suitable marathon to enter. London seems too epic as a starter, and is very hard to get into. So I've chosen the next best thing; Paris.
April 11th; almost 6 months from now. The clock is ticking. More on this soon.
Running fever
Unfortunately I've been confined to my flat for most of the week with a cold. I'm hopeful it will subside before long, but in any case I won't be running the Coventry half-marathon on Sunday. Even if I somehow recovered before then, I've not done any running this week and do not want to risk worsening the condition.
It's certainly disappointing, and a tame waste of the £20 entry fee, but I can't be too disgruntled. A fortnight ago, I was concerned I'd not make it through Birmingham, which was very much the focus and real climax of the last few months of training. To have come through that unscathed and given how I performed, it is more than enough to keep me content for now. I would prefer to be ruled out for health reasons rather than fitness, since catching a cold was virtually unavoidable, even if it was bad timing. My knees seem in good condition and that bodes well for the long term, although I'll be seeing a physio soon for a rigorous work up.
This means my running season is over. I'll certainly engage in some short runs when I'm back on my feet; to maintain basic fitness levels but mainly for pleasure. I'll step up swimming and cycling too. It'll be nice not having the pressure and expectation of a big race; although this is very much a temporary luxury - see the next post.
It's certainly disappointing, and a tame waste of the £20 entry fee, but I can't be too disgruntled. A fortnight ago, I was concerned I'd not make it through Birmingham, which was very much the focus and real climax of the last few months of training. To have come through that unscathed and given how I performed, it is more than enough to keep me content for now. I would prefer to be ruled out for health reasons rather than fitness, since catching a cold was virtually unavoidable, even if it was bad timing. My knees seem in good condition and that bodes well for the long term, although I'll be seeing a physio soon for a rigorous work up.
This means my running season is over. I'll certainly engage in some short runs when I'm back on my feet; to maintain basic fitness levels but mainly for pleasure. I'll step up swimming and cycling too. It'll be nice not having the pressure and expectation of a big race; although this is very much a temporary luxury - see the next post.
Saturday 17 October 2009
Homecoming
Following Birmingham, I was limping around for two days, rewarding myself with the kind of diet I've turned away from in recent months. However, as my body healed up by Thursday and my knee seemed fine, in fact better than even before the race, I considered this: why not enter the Coventry half-marathon on October 25th? Two half-marathons a fortnight apart is far from unreasonable after all, especially if I still feel fresh. My decision would come after testing my legs with a 6 mile run this morning. Having made mincemeat of a route that only months ago would destroy me, it confirmed that now was the opportune time to make the most of my running progress, whilst I'm still fit. Of course, entering another race may aggravate an underlying problem, but I feel almost 100% and feel the risk is worth it just to recapture the experience of last Sunday.
So I've signed myself up for the Coventry half-marathon on October 25th; which means I must resume a carb-enriched diet and take care of my legs a short while longer. The break has been postponed and the focus is back. Runner 'Been is returning home for one final swansong (for now, at least).
So I've signed myself up for the Coventry half-marathon on October 25th; which means I must resume a carb-enriched diet and take care of my legs a short while longer. The break has been postponed and the focus is back. Runner 'Been is returning home for one final swansong (for now, at least).
R-Day
October 11th, Race Day. The climax to a story that began six months ago when, after stopping for breath after just five minutes of running, I'd decided enough was enough. Months of training and endless hours of joy, agony and everything in between, it was time to put into practice all that I'd learnt. Except it was never going to be as simple as that. My knee remained a major concern, to the extent that I'd reduced myself to the mentality that I would probably not finish this race, at least not without regular stops and certainly not within my 1hr 45 target. Still, as the crowd gathered on the start line and I took my place alongside 12,000 fellow masochists, the excitement kicked in and suddenly I was desperate to finish. Weather conditions were ideal; cool, with rare bouts of drizzle. The perfect setting for what could be a special day.
I was amongst the blue crowd; runners are separated by coloured tops, according to their predicted finish time. Blue represented the 1hr 45 - 2h finishers so I found myself surrounded by fairly fit and athletic types, with the odd costume and the occasional overweight wreck. Clearly their training hadn't gone according to plan. As Kelly Holmes ushered us towards the starting line with her uninspiring words of wisdom, I hit my iRiver, unleashing the soundtrack to Terminator 4. Not my favourite piece of music, but for this scenario I could not have chosen better. By the time I was actually running, the adrenaline had already surged and I found myself in a surreal environment. My mind was inevitably on my knee but I continued regardless, taking in the atmosphere and using the cheering supporters to my advantage. My fellow runners seemed slow, I was overtaking them a dozen at a time and soon found myself towards the front of the blue pack. Two miles in and my watch had me timed at 15 minutes. Wonderful; I'd barely felt a thing, besides the burning sensation in my right knee, which could ultimately take me out. Meanwhile, runners around me were stopping to catch breath and already seemed resign to defeat; which only fuelled me further. For now, I was content to revel in the glory of the moment, running in a packed crowd, using my Schumacher-esque moves to push further ahead. I was experiencing the runners' high every couple of miles, especially when kids lined the street to offer high fives as I swept past them. Undoubtedly the highlight of the day!
After my first water break at 3 miles (and it was barely a break; three sips and on I went), I felt as fresh as ever, maintaining my pace and hitting the four mile mark in 29 minutes.
Clearly something was up; I'd just ran the quickest 4 miles of my life and not felt a thing. Still, no time to ponder and on I went, concerned but undeterred by the burning knee. I now had the 10k mark in mind and decided to push the needle until then at least, so that even if I slowed down in the second half I'd have minutes to play with. I couldn't help but grin at the sight of my stopwatch at the 10k mark; just over 46 minutes. I'd ran 10k flat out not long ago, in 48 minutes. Here I smashed that emphatically yet still felt I had plenty left in the tank. For the first time, I dared to consider a sub 1h 40 finish. The knee seemed to be holding up, so why not continue to push? At least for another 2 miles. As I passed a runner in an Adidas shirt, plastered with the "impossible is nothing" slogan, I couldn't help but tell myself "oh, indeed". Eight miles in and it had taken me an hour; not a second more. Now the task was to maintain an eight minute per mile pace for the remaining 5.1 miles. Or quicker.
Now the calves were feeling it. The route was mainly flat, except for the odd drop. And what steep drops they were too. A welcome relief? Not a bit of it. Whilst others darted downwards, I heeded the wise advice to tread these parts with caution, since they presented the biggest risk of injury. They are also an opportunity to recapture a steady heart rate. Further, since the race came full circle (pretty much), any drop implied an incline later on. And I was fully aware of the climb to the finish in the last two miles.
Running for over ninety minutes is as much a journey of the mind as anything else. A look into my mind during this race would serve up a masterclass on the spectrum of human emotion. The defining miles were towards the end, where the physical demands were taking their toll. At this point, I needed the strongest weapons in my arsenal: my mental strength. Some call it willpower, but I think the energy I get to push myself in these later miles is derived from a feeling of compassion. It is here that my deepest, most clear thoughts come to the forefront. I think of my friends and, above all, my family. My parents, sister and nephews waiting for me at the finish line. Do this for them, I tell myself, if not for yourself. I think of my friends, who have kept me going in the tough times, giving me the uncompromising belief that I am bigger than this race. I think of everyone who has donated to my cause; an emphatic reminder of the human capacity to love and support each other. I think of the innocent men, women and children of the Swat Region, who I hope will benefit above all from my performance. The sum total of all those thoughts and emotions leaves me with an energy and drive that no half-marathon can match. Suddenly, knee concerns are barely relevant and the fact that I'm now breathing heavy isn't a problem, because whatever happens, I will not stop. And just in case I'm tempted, the cheering spectators keep pushing me on, an endless supply of energy to see me through.
With two miles remaining, I gazed ahead with the realisation that the hardest part was yet to come. I faced an uphill climb to the finish and was now operating on adrenaline alone. As I entered the final mile, my thoughts were in a haze and only one word stood out: finish. Just get to the end. I came through a tunnel, with the overhead support echoing all around me. As I emerged on the other side, I sensed the end was near. Then I knew it. The final stretch and I could finally see the finish line. Despite being so close to collapse, the mere sight of the end instilled in me a desire to finish with style. A short sprint later, my arms were raised and I leapt over the finish line with the classic fisted pump and 'come on!' As I looked around, all I could see were the purple runners; through the course of the race I'd moved up a division, overtaking hundreds in the process. A real thrill; and no doubt what contributed to my increase in performance.
The moments that followed were euphoric in every sense. As I checked my watch I couldn't help but laugh; 1h 38. Unbelievable; a 7 minute step up from my lofty target of 1h 45. I had finally arrived as a runner. The atmosphere and support allowed me to make a quantum leap in my performance, to the sorts of levels that I never dared believed I'd be capable of in my first race. A flawless debut and what's more, despite feeling absolutely shattered, my knee seemed fine now.
I collected my goodies and medal and eventually found my family through the sea of supporters. An overwhelming feeling of emotion washed over me before I got there, so that my actual reaction was quite subdued when I eventually saw them. Still, my relief and joy was clear to all. An event that was hyped up by myself for so long blew all expectations out of the sky.
I was amongst the blue crowd; runners are separated by coloured tops, according to their predicted finish time. Blue represented the 1hr 45 - 2h finishers so I found myself surrounded by fairly fit and athletic types, with the odd costume and the occasional overweight wreck. Clearly their training hadn't gone according to plan. As Kelly Holmes ushered us towards the starting line with her uninspiring words of wisdom, I hit my iRiver, unleashing the soundtrack to Terminator 4. Not my favourite piece of music, but for this scenario I could not have chosen better. By the time I was actually running, the adrenaline had already surged and I found myself in a surreal environment. My mind was inevitably on my knee but I continued regardless, taking in the atmosphere and using the cheering supporters to my advantage. My fellow runners seemed slow, I was overtaking them a dozen at a time and soon found myself towards the front of the blue pack. Two miles in and my watch had me timed at 15 minutes. Wonderful; I'd barely felt a thing, besides the burning sensation in my right knee, which could ultimately take me out. Meanwhile, runners around me were stopping to catch breath and already seemed resign to defeat; which only fuelled me further. For now, I was content to revel in the glory of the moment, running in a packed crowd, using my Schumacher-esque moves to push further ahead. I was experiencing the runners' high every couple of miles, especially when kids lined the street to offer high fives as I swept past them. Undoubtedly the highlight of the day!
After my first water break at 3 miles (and it was barely a break; three sips and on I went), I felt as fresh as ever, maintaining my pace and hitting the four mile mark in 29 minutes.
Clearly something was up; I'd just ran the quickest 4 miles of my life and not felt a thing. Still, no time to ponder and on I went, concerned but undeterred by the burning knee. I now had the 10k mark in mind and decided to push the needle until then at least, so that even if I slowed down in the second half I'd have minutes to play with. I couldn't help but grin at the sight of my stopwatch at the 10k mark; just over 46 minutes. I'd ran 10k flat out not long ago, in 48 minutes. Here I smashed that emphatically yet still felt I had plenty left in the tank. For the first time, I dared to consider a sub 1h 40 finish. The knee seemed to be holding up, so why not continue to push? At least for another 2 miles. As I passed a runner in an Adidas shirt, plastered with the "impossible is nothing" slogan, I couldn't help but tell myself "oh, indeed". Eight miles in and it had taken me an hour; not a second more. Now the task was to maintain an eight minute per mile pace for the remaining 5.1 miles. Or quicker.
Now the calves were feeling it. The route was mainly flat, except for the odd drop. And what steep drops they were too. A welcome relief? Not a bit of it. Whilst others darted downwards, I heeded the wise advice to tread these parts with caution, since they presented the biggest risk of injury. They are also an opportunity to recapture a steady heart rate. Further, since the race came full circle (pretty much), any drop implied an incline later on. And I was fully aware of the climb to the finish in the last two miles.
Running for over ninety minutes is as much a journey of the mind as anything else. A look into my mind during this race would serve up a masterclass on the spectrum of human emotion. The defining miles were towards the end, where the physical demands were taking their toll. At this point, I needed the strongest weapons in my arsenal: my mental strength. Some call it willpower, but I think the energy I get to push myself in these later miles is derived from a feeling of compassion. It is here that my deepest, most clear thoughts come to the forefront. I think of my friends and, above all, my family. My parents, sister and nephews waiting for me at the finish line. Do this for them, I tell myself, if not for yourself. I think of my friends, who have kept me going in the tough times, giving me the uncompromising belief that I am bigger than this race. I think of everyone who has donated to my cause; an emphatic reminder of the human capacity to love and support each other. I think of the innocent men, women and children of the Swat Region, who I hope will benefit above all from my performance. The sum total of all those thoughts and emotions leaves me with an energy and drive that no half-marathon can match. Suddenly, knee concerns are barely relevant and the fact that I'm now breathing heavy isn't a problem, because whatever happens, I will not stop. And just in case I'm tempted, the cheering spectators keep pushing me on, an endless supply of energy to see me through.
With two miles remaining, I gazed ahead with the realisation that the hardest part was yet to come. I faced an uphill climb to the finish and was now operating on adrenaline alone. As I entered the final mile, my thoughts were in a haze and only one word stood out: finish. Just get to the end. I came through a tunnel, with the overhead support echoing all around me. As I emerged on the other side, I sensed the end was near. Then I knew it. The final stretch and I could finally see the finish line. Despite being so close to collapse, the mere sight of the end instilled in me a desire to finish with style. A short sprint later, my arms were raised and I leapt over the finish line with the classic fisted pump and 'come on!' As I looked around, all I could see were the purple runners; through the course of the race I'd moved up a division, overtaking hundreds in the process. A real thrill; and no doubt what contributed to my increase in performance.
The moments that followed were euphoric in every sense. As I checked my watch I couldn't help but laugh; 1h 38. Unbelievable; a 7 minute step up from my lofty target of 1h 45. I had finally arrived as a runner. The atmosphere and support allowed me to make a quantum leap in my performance, to the sorts of levels that I never dared believed I'd be capable of in my first race. A flawless debut and what's more, despite feeling absolutely shattered, my knee seemed fine now.
I collected my goodies and medal and eventually found my family through the sea of supporters. An overwhelming feeling of emotion washed over me before I got there, so that my actual reaction was quite subdued when I eventually saw them. Still, my relief and joy was clear to all. An event that was hyped up by myself for so long blew all expectations out of the sky.
Sunday 11 October 2009
Race day debrief
Quick update; will post a more in-depth review soon.
My knee held up and I put in the performance of my short running life; an incredibly pleasing time of 1hr 38min; 22 minutes less than my original target and 7 minutes within my revised target of 1hr 45min. Needless to say, I'm delighted with the result. The whole experience was simply amazing.
My knee held up and I put in the performance of my short running life; an incredibly pleasing time of 1hr 38min; 22 minutes less than my original target and 7 minutes within my revised target of 1hr 45min. Needless to say, I'm delighted with the result. The whole experience was simply amazing.
Thursday 8 October 2009
Knee concerns
I'm quite depressed right now. This is my last post before the race, a culmination of 6 months of the hardest training I've ever endured, and should be full of anticipation and optimism. All was well training wise, I'd completed my last big run and was tapering my way to Sunday. A casual 4 miler on Saturday through up no real concerns and some good swimming sessions kept me in good nick.
On Tuesday evening, however, I embarked on a very casual 2-3 mile jog. Slow paced and easy breathing, but very uncomfortable. It began early in the run; a burning sensation in my right knee which gave rise to some serious pain in my leg. I was able to complete the run and the pain was certainly manageable, but I'm not sure what would have happened if I continued. Either I'd get lucky and it'd subside, or I'd come to a halt due to the gradual increase in pain.
Since then, my right knee has been in some pain. Nothing too bad, but I certainly get the sense that a long run could be asking too much. Of course, I've followed protocol with a knee brace as well as hot and cold remedies (deep heat and ice) and limited my walking, as well as putting an end to any short term running. I've even cancelled my proposed trip to Leicester on Saturday for a Countdown tournament so I can rest at home. My hope is that I'll retrieve just enough juice to last the distance on Sunday. My pace may be compromised, my time will probably be well out of the 1hr 45min range and I'll no doubt be in some agony by the end, but I have to give it a shot. It's definitely worth the risk and at least now I have the awareness to expect pain and won't be caught off guard. I pray that the pain will be controllable but whilst I'm hoping for the best, I'm also preparing for the worst. So maybe I'll have to pull out midway. That would be heartbreaking, but not the end of the world. There'll be more opportunities and it'll make me even more determined. But for now, I believe I can make it and I still have a couple of days to heal up.
I feel obliged to run the race; not to prove anything to myself, since I've routinely completed 12 mile runs in good time, thus accomplishing my personal goals. But many people have generously donated to my cause and there is understandably an expectation that I'll finish what I started. This may involve walking some of the course or even crawling; whatever it takes. The final climb may well be the killer. Still, I'll give it everything I've got, with little regard of the consequences. Maybe not the most sensible approach, but after investing so much time and effort I can't back down now. I didn't come this far to lose.
Optimism is scarce, but hope remains.
On Tuesday evening, however, I embarked on a very casual 2-3 mile jog. Slow paced and easy breathing, but very uncomfortable. It began early in the run; a burning sensation in my right knee which gave rise to some serious pain in my leg. I was able to complete the run and the pain was certainly manageable, but I'm not sure what would have happened if I continued. Either I'd get lucky and it'd subside, or I'd come to a halt due to the gradual increase in pain.
Since then, my right knee has been in some pain. Nothing too bad, but I certainly get the sense that a long run could be asking too much. Of course, I've followed protocol with a knee brace as well as hot and cold remedies (deep heat and ice) and limited my walking, as well as putting an end to any short term running. I've even cancelled my proposed trip to Leicester on Saturday for a Countdown tournament so I can rest at home. My hope is that I'll retrieve just enough juice to last the distance on Sunday. My pace may be compromised, my time will probably be well out of the 1hr 45min range and I'll no doubt be in some agony by the end, but I have to give it a shot. It's definitely worth the risk and at least now I have the awareness to expect pain and won't be caught off guard. I pray that the pain will be controllable but whilst I'm hoping for the best, I'm also preparing for the worst. So maybe I'll have to pull out midway. That would be heartbreaking, but not the end of the world. There'll be more opportunities and it'll make me even more determined. But for now, I believe I can make it and I still have a couple of days to heal up.
I feel obliged to run the race; not to prove anything to myself, since I've routinely completed 12 mile runs in good time, thus accomplishing my personal goals. But many people have generously donated to my cause and there is understandably an expectation that I'll finish what I started. This may involve walking some of the course or even crawling; whatever it takes. The final climb may well be the killer. Still, I'll give it everything I've got, with little regard of the consequences. Maybe not the most sensible approach, but after investing so much time and effort I can't back down now. I didn't come this far to lose.
Optimism is scarce, but hope remains.
Tuesday 29 September 2009
The final straight
It's Tuesday afternoon, which means I really ought to be working right now. Except all I want to do is run and all I can think about is race day; a week Sunday. Since I'm absolutely exhausted following an epic 12 miler this morning, I'll happily stick with the easier task of writing up a training progress report.
A fortnight ago, I completed my best run yet; a 12 mile excursion in the very decent time of 97 minutes. That was no doubt my peak form and from then on, the focus has been on maintaining my fitness levels. With growing pains in my legs, most likely shin splints, I've resorted to much cross training; mainly involving the exercise bike. I've kept runs to 6 miles and generally on the softer terrain of local parks. A gradual drop in pace to stay fresh and fit for the big event. Unwittingly, I signed up for another run with triathlete enthusiast Dave Langer (who will also be doing the Birmingham run).
Before heading out along the beautiful route around Port Meadow, we agreed that I'd lead, with the general understanding that we'd follow my pace, but that I'd push myself more than on our last run together (which was at a very gentle 8 1/2 minute per mile pace). This dream lasted around 3 minutes, as Dave surged ahead of me, eager to up the ante and force me to push my limits. What followed was just over 40 minutes of anguish, as I ran my quickest 6 miles yet (46 minutes). There was no rest bite, no time to recover the heart rate to a comfortable level and in the final 2 miles, there was even an increase in speed. I've felt like this in stages before, usually in fartlek sessions, but never for a straight 40 minutes. Still, I was grateful at the end. It was a welcome reminder that we are capable of so much more than we realise. Sometimes we just need someone else to give us that extra push. Dave takes no prisoners and will be a valuable running partner in the coming months.
I decided that was enough punishment for now and rewarded myself with a more casual 5 miler in the local park on Saturday morning. This time I was joined by a small band of ISOC guys, all of whom had varying fitness levels. I'm looking to recruit some running partners for the coming year. I'll always enjoy the isolation running brings and will never relinquish my right to run alone, but I am also keen to mix things up and enjoy the experience with others. Right now, the plan is for us to meet once a week for a communal run. I'm hoping that before long, the dedicated partners will be up to running 10k regularly; not least because I intend to enter several such races next year and would be grateful for the company. Of particular note is Jalal Thompson; who seems even more interested than myself. He has a lot of experience with running and talks about it with authority, passion and intrigue. Here's hoping some of his wisdom will rub off on me.
With the race a fortnight away, it seemed prudent to give a long run (which I currently define as more than 8 miles) one final whirl, despite the growing shin pains. After much icing (frozen peas work a treat), I hit the road this morning at around 0850; in an attempted simulation of race day. My pace remained decent throughout and thankfully the shins held up, allowing me to crank up the pace in the middle miles. I was never too uncomfortable and at times captured that great feeling when it all seems so easy. The last 2 miles were a struggle and suggest it will be a tough climax on race day; but I'm confident that adrenaline alone will be enough to get me through the last mile.
I came home in 97 minutes; even including regular stops for traffic (and, on occasion, pedestrians). This matches my time from a fortnight ago; so it seems my hopes to maintain fitness levels have been emphatically achieved. My legs feel worn out but not injured. Now the tapering begins; 11 days of light training, cross training and lots of icing to ensure maximum freshness for the race. I feel I've overcome the final major obstacle in the training schedule; I'd be very unlucky or stupid to sustain an injury now. I wouldn't rule out either one but for now I remain optimistic.
A fortnight ago, I completed my best run yet; a 12 mile excursion in the very decent time of 97 minutes. That was no doubt my peak form and from then on, the focus has been on maintaining my fitness levels. With growing pains in my legs, most likely shin splints, I've resorted to much cross training; mainly involving the exercise bike. I've kept runs to 6 miles and generally on the softer terrain of local parks. A gradual drop in pace to stay fresh and fit for the big event. Unwittingly, I signed up for another run with triathlete enthusiast Dave Langer (who will also be doing the Birmingham run).
Before heading out along the beautiful route around Port Meadow, we agreed that I'd lead, with the general understanding that we'd follow my pace, but that I'd push myself more than on our last run together (which was at a very gentle 8 1/2 minute per mile pace). This dream lasted around 3 minutes, as Dave surged ahead of me, eager to up the ante and force me to push my limits. What followed was just over 40 minutes of anguish, as I ran my quickest 6 miles yet (46 minutes). There was no rest bite, no time to recover the heart rate to a comfortable level and in the final 2 miles, there was even an increase in speed. I've felt like this in stages before, usually in fartlek sessions, but never for a straight 40 minutes. Still, I was grateful at the end. It was a welcome reminder that we are capable of so much more than we realise. Sometimes we just need someone else to give us that extra push. Dave takes no prisoners and will be a valuable running partner in the coming months.
I decided that was enough punishment for now and rewarded myself with a more casual 5 miler in the local park on Saturday morning. This time I was joined by a small band of ISOC guys, all of whom had varying fitness levels. I'm looking to recruit some running partners for the coming year. I'll always enjoy the isolation running brings and will never relinquish my right to run alone, but I am also keen to mix things up and enjoy the experience with others. Right now, the plan is for us to meet once a week for a communal run. I'm hoping that before long, the dedicated partners will be up to running 10k regularly; not least because I intend to enter several such races next year and would be grateful for the company. Of particular note is Jalal Thompson; who seems even more interested than myself. He has a lot of experience with running and talks about it with authority, passion and intrigue. Here's hoping some of his wisdom will rub off on me.
With the race a fortnight away, it seemed prudent to give a long run (which I currently define as more than 8 miles) one final whirl, despite the growing shin pains. After much icing (frozen peas work a treat), I hit the road this morning at around 0850; in an attempted simulation of race day. My pace remained decent throughout and thankfully the shins held up, allowing me to crank up the pace in the middle miles. I was never too uncomfortable and at times captured that great feeling when it all seems so easy. The last 2 miles were a struggle and suggest it will be a tough climax on race day; but I'm confident that adrenaline alone will be enough to get me through the last mile.
I came home in 97 minutes; even including regular stops for traffic (and, on occasion, pedestrians). This matches my time from a fortnight ago; so it seems my hopes to maintain fitness levels have been emphatically achieved. My legs feel worn out but not injured. Now the tapering begins; 11 days of light training, cross training and lots of icing to ensure maximum freshness for the race. I feel I've overcome the final major obstacle in the training schedule; I'd be very unlucky or stupid to sustain an injury now. I wouldn't rule out either one but for now I remain optimistic.
Monday 21 September 2009
The Ramadhan Diaries (part 4: the finale)
It was an unexciting finish to the training programme in Ramadhan. The aftermath of the epic 12 mile run last Sunday lasted for some time. I did enjoy a casual six mile run with friends the night of my birthday on the 17th, Thursday, but other than that the routine consisted mainly of cycling and treadmill sessions. As Ramadhan concluded, I was in a joyous mood. Not only was I enjoying a wonderful Eid celebration at home (capped off by an incredible Manchester derby...thank you Michael Owen!), but I was revelling in the thought of a daytime run. On Monday, I took on another six mile run, except this time it was in sunlight and on the softer terrain of the local park. Very much a hilly course; each mile consisted of an uphill struggle and downhill fly by, which flaunts the unique Oxford skyline in its view. A testing but enjoyable session that I'll no doubt be repeating soon. Easier on the legs, my recovery seems to have been fairly swift. With three weeks to go, I think it makes sense to focus much of my remaining training on grass. I think I have one killer run (probably 12 miles) left in me before race day. I'm resisting the temptation of cranking it up to 14 miles, as I remain concerned about the pains in my legs.
The big is-shoe
When I first started running regularly months ago and first entertained the thought of some serious training, one piece of advice resonated throughout every book I read and in every conversation I had: buy running shoes. Apparently ordinary trainers lacked the appropriate support and pronation correction, which would inevitably lead to injury. I was utterly convinced by this, since everyone seemed to agree. The solution: invest an honest amount into specialised running shoes, having undergone a running gait analysis. A few weeks and several pounds later, I was the proud owner of my very first pair of running shoes.
In the last few months, however, two things have happened to completely change my perspective. Firstly, I've experienced significant pain in my legs, probably shin splints, and the running shoes seem to offer little relief. Secondly, I read one of the most amazing books of my life. Admittedly, I've not read a huge amount over the years, but every now and again I get the itch. Christopher McDougall's 'Born To Run' flies off the page. The author presents an unconventional thesis that the human foot was designed to run and that it is the most natural thing we can do. Further, he argues that running shoes are basically a scam; they not only fail to prevent running injuries but in fact increase the likelihood that they will occur. He offers a great degree of scientific evidence to back up his claims in a methodical and captivating manner. Some of the basic statistics are staggering: around eighty percent of runners with 'proper' shoes will suffer an injury every year. He also strikes up a stunning correlation between the price of running shoes and the severity and frequency of the injuries they give rise to. There is some simple logic to all this; every time the foot strikes the ground, the knees absorb the shock of up to ten times one's body weight. Is a bit of foam padding really going to make a difference? Instead, it forces the foot to move in a n unnatural way and prevents all its parts to carry out their function. Running injuries are very much a modern phenomenon. For hundreds of years, humans have happily ran hundreds of miles without trouble. Then came along the running shoe, and with it the running injury.
McDougall makes the case for the growing popularity of barefoot running. In the backdrop of his presentation is a truly phenomenal story centering on the Tarahumara (in fact, this is the name adopted by the west: their original name is Raramuri, translated literally as 'Running People'); an almost mythical but very real tribe of ultra runners buried deep in the mountains of Mexico. This is a people who typically run hundreds of miles at a pop without rest and injury, in some of the roughest terrain on Earth, whilst enjoying every single step. All this whilst wearing very basic sandals. The positive effects are clear: no occurrence of cancer in their community (around 40,000-70,000 Tarahumara remain) and no war. As the book unfolds, a beautiful story emerges, involving the realisation of a dream of Caballo Blanco; a migrant who lives amongst the Tarahumara and is considered one of the greatest runners in the land. His vision was to bring an ultra marathon (though only 50 miles as opposed to the usual 100) to them by inviting some of the best ultra runners in the world to Mexico. A breathtaking array of characters are introduced and along the way, it is clear that not all is what you'd expect with long distance running. It seems the best ultra runners in the world agree with much of what McDougall says.
The author acts as a prototype for his own investigation. A below average runner, he was unable to run more than a few miles without succumbing to foot pain. Determined to unlock the secrets of the Tarahumara, he sets about a radicalised training regime based on their principles. He ditches the running shoes for basic sandal-like shoes (more on those later) and manages to complete the gruelling 50 mile run himself. By the end, he is vehemently opposed to the thought of running shoes as a positive aid and implores the reader to find out for themselves.
So I did. Some personal research suggested he may not be a complete loon; indeed, it is clear that barefoot running really is emerging as a major force - an idea embraced by Nike with their Free range, but completely redundantly since they offer arch support and pronation correction anyway. More promising are the Vibram FiveFingers; exactly what they sound like. Ridiculously looking shoes with five slots for the toes and a thin layer to offer support on the road. The idea is that they simulate barefoot running as closely as possible, allowing every joint and bone in the foot to carry out its function and letting it pronate as it is naturally inclined to do.
I'm not going to jump straight into barefoot running; I'll only purchase the FiveFingers after my first race next month. Clearly, the worst thing to do at this point is to suddenly change my running style completely. Rather, a gradual change is prudent and I'm still open to the idea that running shoes can work. However, I'll have an extra option and will be able to make comparisons between the two approaches. I'll settle on whichever relieves my pain more effectively.
I think the most appropriate example is Abebe Bikila, the Ethiopian marathon runner who claimed gold at the 1960 Olympics whilst running the entire 26.2 miles barefooted. However, he went on to win many more marathons with running shoes. The moral of this echoes what I first read in my training guide: I'm an individual and should train like one. I'll see what works for me, whether it is in fact running shoes or the barefoot approach, and take it from there.
In the last few months, however, two things have happened to completely change my perspective. Firstly, I've experienced significant pain in my legs, probably shin splints, and the running shoes seem to offer little relief. Secondly, I read one of the most amazing books of my life. Admittedly, I've not read a huge amount over the years, but every now and again I get the itch. Christopher McDougall's 'Born To Run' flies off the page. The author presents an unconventional thesis that the human foot was designed to run and that it is the most natural thing we can do. Further, he argues that running shoes are basically a scam; they not only fail to prevent running injuries but in fact increase the likelihood that they will occur. He offers a great degree of scientific evidence to back up his claims in a methodical and captivating manner. Some of the basic statistics are staggering: around eighty percent of runners with 'proper' shoes will suffer an injury every year. He also strikes up a stunning correlation between the price of running shoes and the severity and frequency of the injuries they give rise to. There is some simple logic to all this; every time the foot strikes the ground, the knees absorb the shock of up to ten times one's body weight. Is a bit of foam padding really going to make a difference? Instead, it forces the foot to move in a n unnatural way and prevents all its parts to carry out their function. Running injuries are very much a modern phenomenon. For hundreds of years, humans have happily ran hundreds of miles without trouble. Then came along the running shoe, and with it the running injury.
McDougall makes the case for the growing popularity of barefoot running. In the backdrop of his presentation is a truly phenomenal story centering on the Tarahumara (in fact, this is the name adopted by the west: their original name is Raramuri, translated literally as 'Running People'); an almost mythical but very real tribe of ultra runners buried deep in the mountains of Mexico. This is a people who typically run hundreds of miles at a pop without rest and injury, in some of the roughest terrain on Earth, whilst enjoying every single step. All this whilst wearing very basic sandals. The positive effects are clear: no occurrence of cancer in their community (around 40,000-70,000 Tarahumara remain) and no war. As the book unfolds, a beautiful story emerges, involving the realisation of a dream of Caballo Blanco; a migrant who lives amongst the Tarahumara and is considered one of the greatest runners in the land. His vision was to bring an ultra marathon (though only 50 miles as opposed to the usual 100) to them by inviting some of the best ultra runners in the world to Mexico. A breathtaking array of characters are introduced and along the way, it is clear that not all is what you'd expect with long distance running. It seems the best ultra runners in the world agree with much of what McDougall says.
The author acts as a prototype for his own investigation. A below average runner, he was unable to run more than a few miles without succumbing to foot pain. Determined to unlock the secrets of the Tarahumara, he sets about a radicalised training regime based on their principles. He ditches the running shoes for basic sandal-like shoes (more on those later) and manages to complete the gruelling 50 mile run himself. By the end, he is vehemently opposed to the thought of running shoes as a positive aid and implores the reader to find out for themselves.
So I did. Some personal research suggested he may not be a complete loon; indeed, it is clear that barefoot running really is emerging as a major force - an idea embraced by Nike with their Free range, but completely redundantly since they offer arch support and pronation correction anyway. More promising are the Vibram FiveFingers; exactly what they sound like. Ridiculously looking shoes with five slots for the toes and a thin layer to offer support on the road. The idea is that they simulate barefoot running as closely as possible, allowing every joint and bone in the foot to carry out its function and letting it pronate as it is naturally inclined to do.
I'm not going to jump straight into barefoot running; I'll only purchase the FiveFingers after my first race next month. Clearly, the worst thing to do at this point is to suddenly change my running style completely. Rather, a gradual change is prudent and I'm still open to the idea that running shoes can work. However, I'll have an extra option and will be able to make comparisons between the two approaches. I'll settle on whichever relieves my pain more effectively.
I think the most appropriate example is Abebe Bikila, the Ethiopian marathon runner who claimed gold at the 1960 Olympics whilst running the entire 26.2 miles barefooted. However, he went on to win many more marathons with running shoes. The moral of this echoes what I first read in my training guide: I'm an individual and should train like one. I'll see what works for me, whether it is in fact running shoes or the barefoot approach, and take it from there.
Tuesday 15 September 2009
The Ramadhan Diaries (part 3)
Less than a week to go until Ramadhan ends. It really has flown past this year and the fasts themselves are now so familiar that it may actually be difficult to adapt to my usual routine next week. I had always planned to hit my peak in training by the end of Ramadhan and thankfully I've stayed fit enough to do so.
I was in Coventry all of last week and spent most days on our treadmill. It has a steep incline and is far more suited to a brisk walking pace rather than a run. This is helpful for two reasons; first it doesn't impact so badly on the knees. When running on the road, the knee absorbs the impact of twice one's body weight with every stride. The conveyor belt on the treadmill absorbs much of this and, particularly at walking pace, provides a welcome relief to the pounding stress of the roads. Not only this, but the incline offers a simple setting for some hill training. I've taken on gruelling fartlek and interval sessions, all with the same purpose: to work the lungs and build calf muscles. My legs certainly feel stronger than a month ago and seem able to recover from longer runs a lot more efficiently.
On Thursday I took to the roads for a 5 mile run. It was a simple enough exercise; five times around the block at race pace to see if I could maintain an 8 minute per mile pace. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself making light work of this; coming through in 39 minutes and suggesting that I could perhaps raise my ambitions slightly for the half marathon. In any case, it seems that my 10k target of 45 minutes may not be too far off, since this was far from my quickest pace. The big test would be Sunday; my second attempt at a 12 mile run, but this time with more emphasis on speed.
As always, the opening miles were the toughest. A balance is needed between a quick start and conserving one's energy for later miles. My concern in previous long runs was how my speed declined after the opening few miles; perhaps I was being too cautious and should try pushing the needle just a little more. At the end of mile four, I was maintaining the 8 minute per mile pace. Job done, so far. But now my legs were feeling it; eight miles to go and already I was ready to collapse! Still, patience is key and I had to trust that my legs would adapt before long. Thankfully they did and now I was hitting my stride; getting to 7 miles within 57 minutes. So here I was, 5 miles to go and ready to attack like hell. The 1hr 40min mark was well in sight, even if I relaxed slightly. My mind was telling me to take it down a notch but my body was not in sync, instead pushing it further. Again, I found that my last miles were some of my quickest. It was never completely comfortable, but by the time I'd hit 9 miles the rest seemed a formality. Then it happened; something which I'd been warned about in every training guide I'd read but which I had managed to avoid for over four months: I got a stitch. Fortunately, it wasn't major enough to stop me and given how late in the run it was, it was easy enough to overcome the pain. Still, a welcome reminder that there are so many minute details that can define one's race. I came through in around 97 minutes; virtually maintaining the 8 minute per mile pace from start to finish. Easily my best run yet and it showed. I was absolutely knackered after; even the warm down was an effort. This was the good type of knackered though, I'd pushed myself more than ever before. For the first time, a time of 1hr 45min is plausible and a 1hr 50min time is expected.
The main challenge in the remaining four weeks is to avoid injury whilst maintaining my peak form. A tough balance to strike, but from next week I'll have access to the softer terrain of the university parks as well as treadmills. Though not my favourite forms of training, they'll at least keep my legs in good shape whilst giving me an honest workout.
I was in Coventry all of last week and spent most days on our treadmill. It has a steep incline and is far more suited to a brisk walking pace rather than a run. This is helpful for two reasons; first it doesn't impact so badly on the knees. When running on the road, the knee absorbs the impact of twice one's body weight with every stride. The conveyor belt on the treadmill absorbs much of this and, particularly at walking pace, provides a welcome relief to the pounding stress of the roads. Not only this, but the incline offers a simple setting for some hill training. I've taken on gruelling fartlek and interval sessions, all with the same purpose: to work the lungs and build calf muscles. My legs certainly feel stronger than a month ago and seem able to recover from longer runs a lot more efficiently.
On Thursday I took to the roads for a 5 mile run. It was a simple enough exercise; five times around the block at race pace to see if I could maintain an 8 minute per mile pace. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself making light work of this; coming through in 39 minutes and suggesting that I could perhaps raise my ambitions slightly for the half marathon. In any case, it seems that my 10k target of 45 minutes may not be too far off, since this was far from my quickest pace. The big test would be Sunday; my second attempt at a 12 mile run, but this time with more emphasis on speed.
As always, the opening miles were the toughest. A balance is needed between a quick start and conserving one's energy for later miles. My concern in previous long runs was how my speed declined after the opening few miles; perhaps I was being too cautious and should try pushing the needle just a little more. At the end of mile four, I was maintaining the 8 minute per mile pace. Job done, so far. But now my legs were feeling it; eight miles to go and already I was ready to collapse! Still, patience is key and I had to trust that my legs would adapt before long. Thankfully they did and now I was hitting my stride; getting to 7 miles within 57 minutes. So here I was, 5 miles to go and ready to attack like hell. The 1hr 40min mark was well in sight, even if I relaxed slightly. My mind was telling me to take it down a notch but my body was not in sync, instead pushing it further. Again, I found that my last miles were some of my quickest. It was never completely comfortable, but by the time I'd hit 9 miles the rest seemed a formality. Then it happened; something which I'd been warned about in every training guide I'd read but which I had managed to avoid for over four months: I got a stitch. Fortunately, it wasn't major enough to stop me and given how late in the run it was, it was easy enough to overcome the pain. Still, a welcome reminder that there are so many minute details that can define one's race. I came through in around 97 minutes; virtually maintaining the 8 minute per mile pace from start to finish. Easily my best run yet and it showed. I was absolutely knackered after; even the warm down was an effort. This was the good type of knackered though, I'd pushed myself more than ever before. For the first time, a time of 1hr 45min is plausible and a 1hr 50min time is expected.
The main challenge in the remaining four weeks is to avoid injury whilst maintaining my peak form. A tough balance to strike, but from next week I'll have access to the softer terrain of the university parks as well as treadmills. Though not my favourite forms of training, they'll at least keep my legs in good shape whilst giving me an honest workout.
Monday 7 September 2009
Rumble in the Humble (dwellings of Coventry)
Last week culminated in a 10 mile run at home in Coventry; my longest run in a while. My spirits were somewhat dampened after a disappointing 10k run three days earlier, where I found myself struggling from start to finish. Perhaps fasting was taking its toll. I have certainly relaxed my diet in the last couple of weeks. After a 15-16 hour fast, it is difficult to turn down the samosas. Still, I've made enough of an effort with the carbs to suggest this shouldn't have too much of an impact. So maybe it was something else; fatigue perhaps. Or maybe just an off day. Yeah, that sounds good. Except to convince myself of this, I needed to put in a good showing on Sunday.
Off I went at around 2330, around a 7 mile route I crafted online. The final 3 miles would be three 1 mile laps around my area. I started at a decent pace, clocking just under 16 minutes for the first 2 miles. However, this came at the expense of some heavy breathing and already I was pondering an early finish. So far, I've completed every distance I've asked of myself and I exercised a degree of patience in the hope that I'd reach that golden moment where everything seems under control. My pace was measured but not as sharp as I'd like, soon plummeting to the 9 minute per mile mark. However, as time went on my breathing became less laboured and the suffering I endured in the opening miles became a distant memory. I've read that the early miles are the easiest but find my own experiences contrary to this. I think in the opening stages, one's body is adjusting to a huge increase in work rate and therefore needs time to adapt. I've come to expect pain in the first few miles. Now it's just a matter of sucking it up and waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. That moment where it suddenly seems so easy that you can inject some real pace into the mix. On Sunday, that moment came at the end of the 7th mile. There I was, back where I started, but with 7 miles and an hour of running under my belt and the belief that I could clock my quickest miles yet.
I couldn't help but compare this to the Ali-Foreman fight, which I consider to be the greatest sporting spectacle I'm aware of. One of the many things that made Ali the greatest was his ability to strike at his opponent before the fight even began. We see weak imitations throughout the sporting world today, but Ali was the original and the best in getting inside his opponent's head and defeating them psychologically before even landing a punch. Foreman was arguably the most powerful boxer of all time; a single punch would break the average man's spine if landed will full impact. He was able to land 100-150 of these per round. Ali was well aware of this and conditioned himself to cope with this sheer force; much of his sparring involved him standing on the ropes and receiving punishment from whoever would give it. When the fight came and Foreman landed his blows, Ali was ready and responded with a weapon more powerful than anything Foreman had. Not his fists, but his mouth. "Is that all you got, George? I thought you could punch. You're nothing but a sissy!". The problem for Foreman was, that the answer was yes, that was all he had. In his previous 38 fights it had been enough; 35 knockouts and in an average of under 3 rounds. He sent the heavyweight champ Joe Frasier crashing to the mat 6 times in 2 rounds. However, Foreman wasn't a distance fighter and he didn't have a plan beyond knocking Ali out within the first 5 rounds. Ali knew that if he could soak it up in those early stages, then Foreman would burn out and present Ali with the opportunity to make history. Ali rope-a-doped until there were seconds to go in round 8, when he chose his moment and landed a sequence of blows that one spends a career preparing for.
I'm known for my use of hyperbole and have no trouble comparing my long distance runs with the greatest boxing match of all time. The road is my Foreman; the seemingly invincible opponent that has destroyed even the finest athletes. I know to expect suffering in the early rounds; so I turn that into a strength by first accepting it and then preparing for it. I find myself screaming (in my mind, of course) at the road: "IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!" My patience is rewarded in the latter miles once I've got the measure of my opponent.
In those last three miles, I let rip. Okay, so my pace still wasn't special, but to run faster in the last three miles than in any other part of the race, despite facing some of my toughest miles early on, is the stuff of legend. Ever since I was a child, I've dreamt I could fly. When I'm in the groove in those latter miles, I feel I'm in that dream world. I find myself in a state of delirium; smiling, almost laughing at the sheer audacity of sprinting on the 10th mile. As I finish, I'm left with the same aftertaste one has when coming off a roller coaster. Sheer exhilaration. Boy oh boy, do I want more of that!
The marathon throws up images of effort and pain. Of course, there would be little reward without either. But make no mistake, the beauty of running is in overcoming the pain and reaching this state of uncompromising joy. Even if it's for the briefest period, that feeling that you can go at full pelt forever is well worth the wait.
I timed in at around 85 minutes for the 10 miles; consistent with previous efforts. It's clear that my weakness is in the middle parts of the race, where my pace slows down by a minute a mile. I'll be addressing this with some gruelling fartlek and interval sessions over the coming weeks. Much suffering to come, but much joy to look forward to.
Off I went at around 2330, around a 7 mile route I crafted online. The final 3 miles would be three 1 mile laps around my area. I started at a decent pace, clocking just under 16 minutes for the first 2 miles. However, this came at the expense of some heavy breathing and already I was pondering an early finish. So far, I've completed every distance I've asked of myself and I exercised a degree of patience in the hope that I'd reach that golden moment where everything seems under control. My pace was measured but not as sharp as I'd like, soon plummeting to the 9 minute per mile mark. However, as time went on my breathing became less laboured and the suffering I endured in the opening miles became a distant memory. I've read that the early miles are the easiest but find my own experiences contrary to this. I think in the opening stages, one's body is adjusting to a huge increase in work rate and therefore needs time to adapt. I've come to expect pain in the first few miles. Now it's just a matter of sucking it up and waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. That moment where it suddenly seems so easy that you can inject some real pace into the mix. On Sunday, that moment came at the end of the 7th mile. There I was, back where I started, but with 7 miles and an hour of running under my belt and the belief that I could clock my quickest miles yet.
I couldn't help but compare this to the Ali-Foreman fight, which I consider to be the greatest sporting spectacle I'm aware of. One of the many things that made Ali the greatest was his ability to strike at his opponent before the fight even began. We see weak imitations throughout the sporting world today, but Ali was the original and the best in getting inside his opponent's head and defeating them psychologically before even landing a punch. Foreman was arguably the most powerful boxer of all time; a single punch would break the average man's spine if landed will full impact. He was able to land 100-150 of these per round. Ali was well aware of this and conditioned himself to cope with this sheer force; much of his sparring involved him standing on the ropes and receiving punishment from whoever would give it. When the fight came and Foreman landed his blows, Ali was ready and responded with a weapon more powerful than anything Foreman had. Not his fists, but his mouth. "Is that all you got, George? I thought you could punch. You're nothing but a sissy!". The problem for Foreman was, that the answer was yes, that was all he had. In his previous 38 fights it had been enough; 35 knockouts and in an average of under 3 rounds. He sent the heavyweight champ Joe Frasier crashing to the mat 6 times in 2 rounds. However, Foreman wasn't a distance fighter and he didn't have a plan beyond knocking Ali out within the first 5 rounds. Ali knew that if he could soak it up in those early stages, then Foreman would burn out and present Ali with the opportunity to make history. Ali rope-a-doped until there were seconds to go in round 8, when he chose his moment and landed a sequence of blows that one spends a career preparing for.
I'm known for my use of hyperbole and have no trouble comparing my long distance runs with the greatest boxing match of all time. The road is my Foreman; the seemingly invincible opponent that has destroyed even the finest athletes. I know to expect suffering in the early rounds; so I turn that into a strength by first accepting it and then preparing for it. I find myself screaming (in my mind, of course) at the road: "IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!" My patience is rewarded in the latter miles once I've got the measure of my opponent.
In those last three miles, I let rip. Okay, so my pace still wasn't special, but to run faster in the last three miles than in any other part of the race, despite facing some of my toughest miles early on, is the stuff of legend. Ever since I was a child, I've dreamt I could fly. When I'm in the groove in those latter miles, I feel I'm in that dream world. I find myself in a state of delirium; smiling, almost laughing at the sheer audacity of sprinting on the 10th mile. As I finish, I'm left with the same aftertaste one has when coming off a roller coaster. Sheer exhilaration. Boy oh boy, do I want more of that!
The marathon throws up images of effort and pain. Of course, there would be little reward without either. But make no mistake, the beauty of running is in overcoming the pain and reaching this state of uncompromising joy. Even if it's for the briefest period, that feeling that you can go at full pelt forever is well worth the wait.
I timed in at around 85 minutes for the 10 miles; consistent with previous efforts. It's clear that my weakness is in the middle parts of the race, where my pace slows down by a minute a mile. I'll be addressing this with some gruelling fartlek and interval sessions over the coming weeks. Much suffering to come, but much joy to look forward to.
The Ramadhan Diaries (part 2)
It's been a while since my last training update; mainly due to the time constraints induced by the rigours of fasting. However, training has very much remained on course and with five weeks until race day, I certainly feel comfortable with my current performance.
As suggested, swimming and (indoor) cycling have assumed a more prominent role in the proceedings. Cycling represents perhaps the most gruelling aspect of training. I'm currently reading Lance Armstrong's inspiring autobiography, in which describes how he relishes the pain brought on by endless hours of cycling; how the pain is a drug that acts as a fuel for him. I simply can't relate to this; I can barely handle a 45 minute stint. There's precious little rest bite and even maintaining a gentle pace takes its toll. Of course, I am relatively new to cycling and there will inevitably be a period of adjustment, but I am resigned to the likelihood that I won't enjoy the cycling element of training. My mindset is open to change and perhaps if I took to the roads I'd think differently, but for now at least it's merely a means to an end, with obvious physical benefits (and a fantastic way to engage in some interval drills), but little pleasure to be gained. This pain certainly exists when running, but as time goes on I'm able to get it under control and usually assume a state of pleasure within a few miles. Running should be fun; I just wouldn't bother otherwise.
Having peaked at a solid twelve mile run just prior to the start of Ramadhan, I have relaxed my longer runs slightly, in an attempt to give my legs a much needed break. However, I am aiming to notch up at least two more 12 milers before race day and may even attack an unprecedented 14 mile run, so have upped the ante in the last week or so. Fartlek is back in the mix and I'm hitting the roads at least thrice weekly. Within two weeks, I have become fully accustomed to running at midnight, in dark conditions. I may continue to do so to some extent even after Ramadhan. Indeed, in Winter this may even be necessary. Having returned home to Coventry for a while, I took on another 10 mile run yesterday; see the next post for an in depth review.
In truth, I feel I'd be able to run a half marathon tomorrow; which to a large extent means I've already succeeded in achieving my initial goals. I've proven to myself that I can endure a 90-120 minute run at decent pace, which is pretty much where I wanted to be at by this stage. However, I'm looking forward to putting all the hours of training into some tangible climax, and I can't wait for the experiences my first race will bring come October 11. With over a month to go, there are still many improvements I can make. I still think a time of 1hr 50min is plausible, although by no means a gimme. In any case, I'll remain cautious and do my best to avoid a last minute injury which, at this point, would be heartbreaking.
As suggested, swimming and (indoor) cycling have assumed a more prominent role in the proceedings. Cycling represents perhaps the most gruelling aspect of training. I'm currently reading Lance Armstrong's inspiring autobiography, in which describes how he relishes the pain brought on by endless hours of cycling; how the pain is a drug that acts as a fuel for him. I simply can't relate to this; I can barely handle a 45 minute stint. There's precious little rest bite and even maintaining a gentle pace takes its toll. Of course, I am relatively new to cycling and there will inevitably be a period of adjustment, but I am resigned to the likelihood that I won't enjoy the cycling element of training. My mindset is open to change and perhaps if I took to the roads I'd think differently, but for now at least it's merely a means to an end, with obvious physical benefits (and a fantastic way to engage in some interval drills), but little pleasure to be gained. This pain certainly exists when running, but as time goes on I'm able to get it under control and usually assume a state of pleasure within a few miles. Running should be fun; I just wouldn't bother otherwise.
Having peaked at a solid twelve mile run just prior to the start of Ramadhan, I have relaxed my longer runs slightly, in an attempt to give my legs a much needed break. However, I am aiming to notch up at least two more 12 milers before race day and may even attack an unprecedented 14 mile run, so have upped the ante in the last week or so. Fartlek is back in the mix and I'm hitting the roads at least thrice weekly. Within two weeks, I have become fully accustomed to running at midnight, in dark conditions. I may continue to do so to some extent even after Ramadhan. Indeed, in Winter this may even be necessary. Having returned home to Coventry for a while, I took on another 10 mile run yesterday; see the next post for an in depth review.
In truth, I feel I'd be able to run a half marathon tomorrow; which to a large extent means I've already succeeded in achieving my initial goals. I've proven to myself that I can endure a 90-120 minute run at decent pace, which is pretty much where I wanted to be at by this stage. However, I'm looking forward to putting all the hours of training into some tangible climax, and I can't wait for the experiences my first race will bring come October 11. With over a month to go, there are still many improvements I can make. I still think a time of 1hr 50min is plausible, although by no means a gimme. In any case, I'll remain cautious and do my best to avoid a last minute injury which, at this point, would be heartbreaking.
Thursday 27 August 2009
The Countdown is on
The early days of Ramadhan have reminded me of the importance of keeping oneself occupied through long periods of fasting. It's nice to be able to break the day into small, manageable chunks and it helps if one can enjoy themselves whilst doing so. Swimming is excellent in this regard; a complete session usually takes around 2 hours (getting there, in the pool and back) and leaves one feeling refreshed, whilst allowing them to ignore their hunger in the meantime. I'm fortunate enough to have another useful distraction.
The start of Ramadhan has coincided with the return of Countdown to our screens, after a 4 week Summer break. The familiarity of sitting in front of the telly screaming my answers is a luxury I've missed. From 1525-1615 (or an hour later if I catch it on +1), all that matters is the 9 letters and 6 numbers before me.
Since appearing on the show last year, my interest in the show has stepped up considerably, back to the levels of when I was young and addicted. Countdown exists well beyond the screen and I continue to compete online and in real life tournaments. There's a wonderful online community, where fans discuss the show, compete and basically chat a lot of rubbish. Perfect. There's even a comprehensive wiki page for the show, chronicling its entire 27 year history. Charlie Reams, my main rival on the show, is responsible for much of this and has an incredible playing website which offers all sorts of formats based on the game. Be warned: it may take over your life.
I've also entered two unofficial offline tournaments this year; CoLin (Lincoln) and CoNot (Nottingham). I finished 4th both times from a pool of around 16-24. Given how insane the standard is compared to what is seen on TV (most players are former series finalists or as good as), I'm reasonably happy with my progress. Still, it'd be nice to bag one of these titles and in CoLei (Leicester) I have my next opportunity. As well as offering a fantastic substitute for appearing on the show itself and thus easing the withdrawl symptoms, these events are a great chance to meet and reunite with some of the fantastic characters I've come across in the Countdown world. Where else will you find an 11 year old and a 70 year old leaping with joy when the word LEOTARD appears?
CoLei is booked for October 10th; the day before the race. The perfect way to while away what would otherwise be an unbearable day of anticipation. It also almost guarantees I won't have a last minute accident; Countdown is nothing if not safe. What a weekend it promises to be; I'll enjoy CoLei for what it is without any real expectations, but the big event will no doubt be the Sunday. In the meantime, I'll continue training for both. Yes, Countdown involves training; ask any series finalist. Especially with the current crop of talent, staying on top requires a lot of effort. Fortunately, I've done most of the hard work (learning endless word stems; PRONATE+F=PANFORTE indeed) and now it's just a matter of maintaining my standards by playing. Why do I still bother? Perhaps it's because I'm hoping there'll be a second Supreme Championship to which I may be invited. Mainly though, I think it's just because I love the game. It is my Chess and I'll be hooked for a while yet, I suspect.
The start of Ramadhan has coincided with the return of Countdown to our screens, after a 4 week Summer break. The familiarity of sitting in front of the telly screaming my answers is a luxury I've missed. From 1525-1615 (or an hour later if I catch it on +1), all that matters is the 9 letters and 6 numbers before me.
Since appearing on the show last year, my interest in the show has stepped up considerably, back to the levels of when I was young and addicted. Countdown exists well beyond the screen and I continue to compete online and in real life tournaments. There's a wonderful online community, where fans discuss the show, compete and basically chat a lot of rubbish. Perfect. There's even a comprehensive wiki page for the show, chronicling its entire 27 year history. Charlie Reams, my main rival on the show, is responsible for much of this and has an incredible playing website which offers all sorts of formats based on the game. Be warned: it may take over your life.
I've also entered two unofficial offline tournaments this year; CoLin (Lincoln) and CoNot (Nottingham). I finished 4th both times from a pool of around 16-24. Given how insane the standard is compared to what is seen on TV (most players are former series finalists or as good as), I'm reasonably happy with my progress. Still, it'd be nice to bag one of these titles and in CoLei (Leicester) I have my next opportunity. As well as offering a fantastic substitute for appearing on the show itself and thus easing the withdrawl symptoms, these events are a great chance to meet and reunite with some of the fantastic characters I've come across in the Countdown world. Where else will you find an 11 year old and a 70 year old leaping with joy when the word LEOTARD appears?
CoLei is booked for October 10th; the day before the race. The perfect way to while away what would otherwise be an unbearable day of anticipation. It also almost guarantees I won't have a last minute accident; Countdown is nothing if not safe. What a weekend it promises to be; I'll enjoy CoLei for what it is without any real expectations, but the big event will no doubt be the Sunday. In the meantime, I'll continue training for both. Yes, Countdown involves training; ask any series finalist. Especially with the current crop of talent, staying on top requires a lot of effort. Fortunately, I've done most of the hard work (learning endless word stems; PRONATE+F=PANFORTE indeed) and now it's just a matter of maintaining my standards by playing. Why do I still bother? Perhaps it's because I'm hoping there'll be a second Supreme Championship to which I may be invited. Mainly though, I think it's just because I love the game. It is my Chess and I'll be hooked for a while yet, I suspect.
Tuesday 25 August 2009
The Ramadhan Diaries (part 1)
Tuesday 25 August, 2.50am. I'm usually well tucked in by now, dreaming of glorious days ahead. But this is no typical day. As expected, the rigours of Ramadhan have flipped my body clock on its head. I'm just over an hour away from closing my fast; a spot of Weetabix and banana with some jasmine tea (mixed with a pinch of honey of course) to get me through the next 16 hours. Only hours ago I revelled in completing my first fast of the month, having missed the first two due to asthma issues. Fortunately, these seem to have subsided and I am back to normal training wise. Except not quite, because normal now means darting through the dark night streets of Oxford. There is only one sensible time to run during Ramadhan in August; after the evening Tarawih prayer, which concludes at 11.30pm. After all, I'm not going to attempt a day run with no access to water or inhalers. I completed a steady 10k run in decent enough time. It was just nice to get out there after 6 days of indoor exercise and rest, if only to remind my legs that they are not on vacation.
Running in the depths of the night is different. No better or worse. Sure, there are negatives, such as a need for greater focus to capture the all important 3 yards of ground that lies ahead to avoid sudden bumps. And pace is limited, as one is often running on nothing more enlightening than shadows. However, this is all counteracted by cooler weather conditions and a closer simulation of the likely temperature at 10am on October 11. Moreover, there is no issue of traffic; so long, annoying pedestrians! I find myself running in the middle of roads, giving a real sense of what to expect come race day. One thing that definitely sticks out, and I don't know for sure if this is a plus or not, is that I feel most isolated in the pitch black of night. It's like the world is asleep and I'm the only muppet who sees the point of running. In daylight, I pass runners all the time and develop an unspoken bond, like I'm in on a special secret. At night, it's the complete opposite and I feel totally alone. Alone, not lonely. My own brand of escapism. Well anyway, it's different.
With the exercise bike installed in the flat, I'll no doubt give it a whirl or two in the coming days. Coupled with the usual swim sessions, I have an active week ahead. It's tough on top of the fasting, but if you told me a year ago I'd be able to observe 16 hour fasts and soon after embark on a comfortable 10k run, I'd eat my imaginary hat. I call it progress. Still a long way to go, but I feel I'm well in the groove now.
Running in the depths of the night is different. No better or worse. Sure, there are negatives, such as a need for greater focus to capture the all important 3 yards of ground that lies ahead to avoid sudden bumps. And pace is limited, as one is often running on nothing more enlightening than shadows. However, this is all counteracted by cooler weather conditions and a closer simulation of the likely temperature at 10am on October 11. Moreover, there is no issue of traffic; so long, annoying pedestrians! I find myself running in the middle of roads, giving a real sense of what to expect come race day. One thing that definitely sticks out, and I don't know for sure if this is a plus or not, is that I feel most isolated in the pitch black of night. It's like the world is asleep and I'm the only muppet who sees the point of running. In daylight, I pass runners all the time and develop an unspoken bond, like I'm in on a special secret. At night, it's the complete opposite and I feel totally alone. Alone, not lonely. My own brand of escapism. Well anyway, it's different.
With the exercise bike installed in the flat, I'll no doubt give it a whirl or two in the coming days. Coupled with the usual swim sessions, I have an active week ahead. It's tough on top of the fasting, but if you told me a year ago I'd be able to observe 16 hour fasts and soon after embark on a comfortable 10k run, I'd eat my imaginary hat. I call it progress. Still a long way to go, but I feel I'm well in the groove now.
Friday 21 August 2009
Asthma: a breathtaking foe
Just hours to go until Ramadhan begins. As I've previously discussed, this surely presents the biggest (and most exciting challenge) to my training yet. At least that's what I assumed, until my nemesis of old reappeared about a week ago. I was diagnosed with asthma when I was 10 (I think) and have contended with it ever since. Most of the time, it's mild enough to be of scarce relevance, although I've fallen victim to flu season several times. I use a preventer every morning and evening and a reliever when needed. For training, 2 puffs immediately before a workout seem to help by expanding the lungs.
However there are times when I need the reliever several times a day, usually due to a chest infection. My last such episode was years ago and I dared to believe I'd seen the last of them, but back it comes, more vigorous than ever. Training seems to be unaffected for now, as the normal 2 puffs offers relief for around 4-5 hours; more than adequate for even my longer runs. My concern is more with fasting; can I really go 16 hours a day without a dose? Of particular worry is mornings, as symptoms are at their worst when I've just woken up. I'll play it by ear; I'm not going to play the hero and risk my health, since that would just contradict the purpose of fasting. But I'll see how it goes to begin with and take it from there. I'm optimistic it is just a mild and temporary chest problem rather than all out flu (and I certainly won't be calling the swine flu hotline just yet), since it is the only symptom I've experienced. Still, it is an important reminder that, despite my fantastic progress over the last few months, I have my limits - and then some. I've no doubt that asthma is a barrier to my aspirations of long distance running and that it warrants a certain degree of respect. Indeed, my relative lack of speed and inability to sprint well are surely down in part to my compromised immune system. Still, it's a barrier I'm ready for. Bring it on.
However there are times when I need the reliever several times a day, usually due to a chest infection. My last such episode was years ago and I dared to believe I'd seen the last of them, but back it comes, more vigorous than ever. Training seems to be unaffected for now, as the normal 2 puffs offers relief for around 4-5 hours; more than adequate for even my longer runs. My concern is more with fasting; can I really go 16 hours a day without a dose? Of particular worry is mornings, as symptoms are at their worst when I've just woken up. I'll play it by ear; I'm not going to play the hero and risk my health, since that would just contradict the purpose of fasting. But I'll see how it goes to begin with and take it from there. I'm optimistic it is just a mild and temporary chest problem rather than all out flu (and I certainly won't be calling the swine flu hotline just yet), since it is the only symptom I've experienced. Still, it is an important reminder that, despite my fantastic progress over the last few months, I have my limits - and then some. I've no doubt that asthma is a barrier to my aspirations of long distance running and that it warrants a certain degree of respect. Indeed, my relative lack of speed and inability to sprint well are surely down in part to my compromised immune system. Still, it's a barrier I'm ready for. Bring it on.
Monday 17 August 2009
Weekly review (the storm before the calm)
The last week was a build up to the huge event: my first attempt at a 12 mile run on Sunday. I would only take this on if I felt I was ready, so needed some good sessions beforehand to convince myself. I'm sure it would've made the news had a certain Usain Bolt not stolen my thunder.
It was a packed week of training, but much of this took place in the gym. I recently ranted about my distaste for the gym environment, but must confess that it is ever so slowly growing on me. I think it's due to the influence of Zil, who continues to push me to higher standards. I'm making reasonable progress and am looking like less of an idiot with every session. I would still be unwilling to do these sessions alone but for now they are tolerable with company.
Back to the roads and it was a similar routine to the week before; hill training on Tuesday and a 10k tempo run on Thursday. As suggested last week, I extended my usual uphill run and finally took on the added challenge of nailing it up Shotover Kilns. Not half as bad as I expected, but the prospect of running uphill in the climax of Birmingham remains daunting. This is where my legs feel weakest and lungs feel smallest, but fortunately most of the route will be flat. More swimming on Wednesday and I am slowly rediscovering the art of front crawl. I hope that before long this will be dominating my sessions rather than breast stroke, as it taxes my heart far more effectively. I must be annoying to swim alongside as I splash like no man's business.
Thursday's 10k run was supposed to be a showdown with top athlete Dave Langer, but had to be rescheduled to this week. Instead, I embarked on a familiar run, to compare it to previous performances. It took a real effort to begin with given it was my first morning run in a while. I'll need to get used to this since the race itself will be a 10am start. Once I'd hit my stride, it was a familiar process and the time of day seemed barely relevant. I pushed myself hard in a bid to chase down my previous time of 49:15. I was delayed at times by idiotic pedestrians with the inability to step aside, as if they expect me to run right through them. Maybe next time I'll try to do just that. Anyway, despite these setbacks I came through in 49:45. Somewhat shy of my PB, but well within the treasured 50min barrier, so I was happy enough.
I feel I can't really express myself over 10k. My training has been geared towards endurance rather than speed and even though a sub 50min time is much better than I could dream of months ago, it's nothing that will raise eyebrows. On the other hand, once I've passed the 5-6 mile mark I am able to maintain a decent speed for some time; a feat I think most people would struggle to achieve without proper training. It was time to really put this to the test on Sunday; could I complete a 12 mile run whilst maintaining a decent speed throughout?
With the gym sessions to add to the mix, including an impressive workout on Sunday morning, I was confident enough to take on a longer run. On the other hand, my asthma (more on this another time) has been playing up in recent days and my left leg was in far from ideal condition. Still, with my usual 2 puffs of inhaler and leg strapping, I deemed it safe to give it a shot. Worse case scenario, I'd turn around a few miles in and still have had a decent run. For the first time in months, I took my inhaler with me just in case. Fortunately, neither the inhaler nor a premature exit were needed. My breathing was perfectly fine, although my right leg gave me some problems early on. My right leg. which has given me little to no problems until now. The pain was mild enough for me to carry on, but if it increased I'd have to stop short. It soon subsided however and hasn't returned in the 24 hours since, so for now I'll assume it was nothing more than a small bout of road fatigue. I'll be spending less time on the roads in the coming weeks, so am not too concerned about these expected small pains.
At around the 6 mile barrier, I decided to take on the whole route. This involved a 2 mile run up to St Anne's, my home for the first four years in Oxford, followed by another mile up to Summertown, to my 5th year accommodation. As I swept past these landmarks nostalgia crept in, but I soon remembered my current flat, also the endpoint of the route, is by far the best place I've lived in whilst at Oxford. So I legged it home. I sped up slightly in the last 2 miles, but knew I'd pay the price the next day. Still, the pains were now from tiredness; the best kind. I felt shattered after 12 miles, despite observing a steady pace for much of the run. I feel that in the time I have left to train and with the added motivation and adrenalin on the day, where I'll have little concern for short term injury, I'll be able to inject more pace. So a time just shy of 1hr 44min for 12 miles is pleasing. Not least because it was my first attempt at this distance and I completed it with very few breaks, but also because it puts me in prime position to hit the sub 2 hour mark. I think sub 1hr 50min is reasonable at this stage.
I spent much of today recovering from that epic run yesterday. I was far from limping, but slowly trudged towards my weekly supervision. Perhaps Monday morning isn't the best time to see my boss, given the exertions of the previous evening. Anyway, it was a wonderful feeling to have, knowing that my legs were tired but healthy after my longest run yet. I look forward to October 12th; the day after the race. Hopefully I'll be feeling even more victorious the.
With Ramadhan starting this week, there will be a shift in emphasis. I have 8 weeks until race day, but my training schedule only has 4 weeks remaining. Thus, I can afford to spend some time just maintainingg fitness levels and relieving my legs of continuous road action. I intend to run twice weekly for the next fortnight, but to incorporate an extra swim session per week as well as some indoor cycling. I hope to have a machine in the flat by the end of the week. It should be a welcome reduction to pace, but I'll no doubt be itching for those long runs soon enough.
I'll be meeting Dave for a 10k run on Wednesday. Hopefully I'll have recovered enough by then to offer a decent showing, in what will be my last road race in the light for the next month or so.
It was a packed week of training, but much of this took place in the gym. I recently ranted about my distaste for the gym environment, but must confess that it is ever so slowly growing on me. I think it's due to the influence of Zil, who continues to push me to higher standards. I'm making reasonable progress and am looking like less of an idiot with every session. I would still be unwilling to do these sessions alone but for now they are tolerable with company.
Back to the roads and it was a similar routine to the week before; hill training on Tuesday and a 10k tempo run on Thursday. As suggested last week, I extended my usual uphill run and finally took on the added challenge of nailing it up Shotover Kilns. Not half as bad as I expected, but the prospect of running uphill in the climax of Birmingham remains daunting. This is where my legs feel weakest and lungs feel smallest, but fortunately most of the route will be flat. More swimming on Wednesday and I am slowly rediscovering the art of front crawl. I hope that before long this will be dominating my sessions rather than breast stroke, as it taxes my heart far more effectively. I must be annoying to swim alongside as I splash like no man's business.
Thursday's 10k run was supposed to be a showdown with top athlete Dave Langer, but had to be rescheduled to this week. Instead, I embarked on a familiar run, to compare it to previous performances. It took a real effort to begin with given it was my first morning run in a while. I'll need to get used to this since the race itself will be a 10am start. Once I'd hit my stride, it was a familiar process and the time of day seemed barely relevant. I pushed myself hard in a bid to chase down my previous time of 49:15. I was delayed at times by idiotic pedestrians with the inability to step aside, as if they expect me to run right through them. Maybe next time I'll try to do just that. Anyway, despite these setbacks I came through in 49:45. Somewhat shy of my PB, but well within the treasured 50min barrier, so I was happy enough.
I feel I can't really express myself over 10k. My training has been geared towards endurance rather than speed and even though a sub 50min time is much better than I could dream of months ago, it's nothing that will raise eyebrows. On the other hand, once I've passed the 5-6 mile mark I am able to maintain a decent speed for some time; a feat I think most people would struggle to achieve without proper training. It was time to really put this to the test on Sunday; could I complete a 12 mile run whilst maintaining a decent speed throughout?
With the gym sessions to add to the mix, including an impressive workout on Sunday morning, I was confident enough to take on a longer run. On the other hand, my asthma (more on this another time) has been playing up in recent days and my left leg was in far from ideal condition. Still, with my usual 2 puffs of inhaler and leg strapping, I deemed it safe to give it a shot. Worse case scenario, I'd turn around a few miles in and still have had a decent run. For the first time in months, I took my inhaler with me just in case. Fortunately, neither the inhaler nor a premature exit were needed. My breathing was perfectly fine, although my right leg gave me some problems early on. My right leg. which has given me little to no problems until now. The pain was mild enough for me to carry on, but if it increased I'd have to stop short. It soon subsided however and hasn't returned in the 24 hours since, so for now I'll assume it was nothing more than a small bout of road fatigue. I'll be spending less time on the roads in the coming weeks, so am not too concerned about these expected small pains.
At around the 6 mile barrier, I decided to take on the whole route. This involved a 2 mile run up to St Anne's, my home for the first four years in Oxford, followed by another mile up to Summertown, to my 5th year accommodation. As I swept past these landmarks nostalgia crept in, but I soon remembered my current flat, also the endpoint of the route, is by far the best place I've lived in whilst at Oxford. So I legged it home. I sped up slightly in the last 2 miles, but knew I'd pay the price the next day. Still, the pains were now from tiredness; the best kind. I felt shattered after 12 miles, despite observing a steady pace for much of the run. I feel that in the time I have left to train and with the added motivation and adrenalin on the day, where I'll have little concern for short term injury, I'll be able to inject more pace. So a time just shy of 1hr 44min for 12 miles is pleasing. Not least because it was my first attempt at this distance and I completed it with very few breaks, but also because it puts me in prime position to hit the sub 2 hour mark. I think sub 1hr 50min is reasonable at this stage.
I spent much of today recovering from that epic run yesterday. I was far from limping, but slowly trudged towards my weekly supervision. Perhaps Monday morning isn't the best time to see my boss, given the exertions of the previous evening. Anyway, it was a wonderful feeling to have, knowing that my legs were tired but healthy after my longest run yet. I look forward to October 12th; the day after the race. Hopefully I'll be feeling even more victorious the.
With Ramadhan starting this week, there will be a shift in emphasis. I have 8 weeks until race day, but my training schedule only has 4 weeks remaining. Thus, I can afford to spend some time just maintainingg fitness levels and relieving my legs of continuous road action. I intend to run twice weekly for the next fortnight, but to incorporate an extra swim session per week as well as some indoor cycling. I hope to have a machine in the flat by the end of the week. It should be a welcome reduction to pace, but I'll no doubt be itching for those long runs soon enough.
I'll be meeting Dave for a 10k run on Wednesday. Hopefully I'll have recovered enough by then to offer a decent showing, in what will be my last road race in the light for the next month or so.
Thursday 13 August 2009
Ramadhan: obstacle or opportunity?
In little over a week, the blessed month of Ramadhan will be upon us. In recent years my fasting has been severely restricted by health problems, but this year I hope to fast the entire month. It will no doubt be a huge challenge, with the month rooted firmly in British summer, meaning daily periods of around 15-16 hours without food or water. The implications for my training regime seem dire at first inspection. Obviously, I'll be unable (unwilling, at least) to run during the fast, and with evenings occupied by (huge) meals and prayer, this leaves only the dark hours of the night to get those runs in. I'll have to get accustomed to running in dark, isolated streets, although I do have some experience with this already. And of course, it'll be tough to maintain the balance of my current diet, with meals coming in a short space of time. Not ideal.
On the other hand, Ramadhan is so much more about fasting. It's a time to rise above the usual standards; mentally, physically and spiritually. It's not uncommon for Muslims to feel a certain drive during this month, resulting in better performance in all aspects of life. For my own part, my finest days as a student were undoubtedly as an undergraduate and amongst my fondest memories were the intense late night study sessions during Ramadhan. Studying is hard at the best of times, more so when one has gone hours without food. But one can adapt and get the best of both worlds. I'll probably switch one run a week with an extra swimming session. I'm well ahead of schedule, deliberately so, because I was aware that I'd have to adapt in this way during Ramadhan.
The next month will be as much a job of maintaining current fitness levels than anything, but even this will require a monumental effort. It would be futile to deny the challenges Ramadhan will present to training. But should I really shy away from this? A brief look at history shows us that the Prophet (pbuh) and his Companions fought and trained for some of their greatest battles during Ramadhan. Fast forward to the present day and all round the world Muslims strive to fulfill their religious obligations, despite facing poverty, war and worse. In this context, it would seem pitiful to suggest I have it tough. Particularly as a student, where the flexibility in my schedule allows me to adjust accordingly. Will it be harder? Sure. But that just drives me on. None of this has been easy so far; I'm not going to back down now.
I hope and pray that I can find that strength and bring back to reality those glorious memories of Ramadhans of old where, for want of a better phrase, I'd basically kick ass.
On the other hand, Ramadhan is so much more about fasting. It's a time to rise above the usual standards; mentally, physically and spiritually. It's not uncommon for Muslims to feel a certain drive during this month, resulting in better performance in all aspects of life. For my own part, my finest days as a student were undoubtedly as an undergraduate and amongst my fondest memories were the intense late night study sessions during Ramadhan. Studying is hard at the best of times, more so when one has gone hours without food. But one can adapt and get the best of both worlds. I'll probably switch one run a week with an extra swimming session. I'm well ahead of schedule, deliberately so, because I was aware that I'd have to adapt in this way during Ramadhan.
The next month will be as much a job of maintaining current fitness levels than anything, but even this will require a monumental effort. It would be futile to deny the challenges Ramadhan will present to training. But should I really shy away from this? A brief look at history shows us that the Prophet (pbuh) and his Companions fought and trained for some of their greatest battles during Ramadhan. Fast forward to the present day and all round the world Muslims strive to fulfill their religious obligations, despite facing poverty, war and worse. In this context, it would seem pitiful to suggest I have it tough. Particularly as a student, where the flexibility in my schedule allows me to adjust accordingly. Will it be harder? Sure. But that just drives me on. None of this has been easy so far; I'm not going to back down now.
I hope and pray that I can find that strength and bring back to reality those glorious memories of Ramadhans of old where, for want of a better phrase, I'd basically kick ass.
Monday 10 August 2009
Weekly review (a finish to the sprint)
Very hectic last week, both in training and on the fundraising side. Firstly, in case I haven't advertised it enough already, please click here to find out about my cause...and please take a moment to donate! It took a while to set everything up, but the campaign is well under way now. Donations are already into the hundreds of pounds, but most of this is from family. Don't worry, I'll be pestering you soon enough.
Right then, what of training? I was spent after the 10 mile run the previous Sunday, so altered the weekly schedule slightly, taking swimming on Tuesday. I was feeling rather motivated, so took in a gym session in college in the evening. Same old really, quite gruelling with no obvious immediate payoff. I just trust something will be noticeable long term.
Back to the roads on Wednesday for some hill training. Never easy, but certainly needs to be done as the Birmingham route, though mostly flat, culminates with a steep incline. I'll be hoping for a strong finish and don't want to be flawed in the last mile. In my next hill session, maybe this week, I'll be extending the route to encompass an even steeper incline. Worse case scenario, I'll stop half way up, fall flat and enjoy the roll back down.
I live a 5-10 minute walk from Iffley sports ground. Therein lies a rich history. Not only has it been home to Islamic Society (ISOC) Football for 6 years, but it also contains the Roger Bannister running track. So called because it was on this track that the legend became the first man to break the 4 minute barrier for the mile. The track is a perfect setting for some interval training. Here, one runs a modest distance (400m, say) as quickly as possible, several times over, with 3-4 minutes rest in between each effort. I've tried intervals in the park, but felt I was confident enough to take to the track. Moreover, the track is free to use so I had no excuse. Perhaps not the best decision, as it exposed the biggest weakness in my game; sprinting. Months of training has paid off in so many ways, giving me endurance I never thought I'd be capable of. But sprinting remains a weakness. I was consistent, but consistently bad, with my times clustered around the 90 second mark. It's strange that my running time was around 12 minutes, yet it seemed like a much bigger effort than some of my 10k runs. Interval training is helpful in that it improves one's anaerobic threshold (much like fartlek training), but I have no real aspirations to sprint for large distances. Maybe the last half mile or so, but the focus remains on endurance, not speed. Also, I must look like an absolute tool when I sprint; I certainly feel like one, gasping for breath at every moment.
But I was after bigger fish and, despite minor injury concerns, elected for a 10 mile run on Sunday, at race pace. Having mapped out my run, I took to the streets, after stretching for a good 10-15 minutes. As race day approaches, my concerns over injury will no doubt grow. I am trying just about anything to ease the strain on my legs, like applying ice packs soon after my runs. I'm also putting in more time with the warm ups/downs, trying new stretches, but not overdoing it of course. Anyway, it was my third 10 mile run and easily my most comfortable. Also the most enjoyable; the route took me all around Oxford and particularly through the glittering city centre and up towards (the not so glittering) Summertown. I timed my splits every 2 miles so knew throughout that I was setting a decent pace. I was very consistent, slowing down only on the steeper parts, but completing each mile in around eight and a half minutes. I even managed a sprint finish, clocking up 7 minutes for the 10th mile and coming home in 1hr 24 mins, a 2 minute improvement on last week. I felt I could have ran another 3 miles if absolutely pushed, but elected to stick with the plan. At my current rate of progress, a 1hr 45min target may be realistic for the half marathon. We'll see.
Similar programme for the coming week, though I may well take on a 12 mile run on the weekend. In any case, I'll decide beforehand. I'm running 10k with David Langer (see previous post) on Thursday at 9am; my earliest run in ages. Can. Not. Wait.
Right then, what of training? I was spent after the 10 mile run the previous Sunday, so altered the weekly schedule slightly, taking swimming on Tuesday. I was feeling rather motivated, so took in a gym session in college in the evening. Same old really, quite gruelling with no obvious immediate payoff. I just trust something will be noticeable long term.
Back to the roads on Wednesday for some hill training. Never easy, but certainly needs to be done as the Birmingham route, though mostly flat, culminates with a steep incline. I'll be hoping for a strong finish and don't want to be flawed in the last mile. In my next hill session, maybe this week, I'll be extending the route to encompass an even steeper incline. Worse case scenario, I'll stop half way up, fall flat and enjoy the roll back down.
I live a 5-10 minute walk from Iffley sports ground. Therein lies a rich history. Not only has it been home to Islamic Society (ISOC) Football for 6 years, but it also contains the Roger Bannister running track. So called because it was on this track that the legend became the first man to break the 4 minute barrier for the mile. The track is a perfect setting for some interval training. Here, one runs a modest distance (400m, say) as quickly as possible, several times over, with 3-4 minutes rest in between each effort. I've tried intervals in the park, but felt I was confident enough to take to the track. Moreover, the track is free to use so I had no excuse. Perhaps not the best decision, as it exposed the biggest weakness in my game; sprinting. Months of training has paid off in so many ways, giving me endurance I never thought I'd be capable of. But sprinting remains a weakness. I was consistent, but consistently bad, with my times clustered around the 90 second mark. It's strange that my running time was around 12 minutes, yet it seemed like a much bigger effort than some of my 10k runs. Interval training is helpful in that it improves one's anaerobic threshold (much like fartlek training), but I have no real aspirations to sprint for large distances. Maybe the last half mile or so, but the focus remains on endurance, not speed. Also, I must look like an absolute tool when I sprint; I certainly feel like one, gasping for breath at every moment.
But I was after bigger fish and, despite minor injury concerns, elected for a 10 mile run on Sunday, at race pace. Having mapped out my run, I took to the streets, after stretching for a good 10-15 minutes. As race day approaches, my concerns over injury will no doubt grow. I am trying just about anything to ease the strain on my legs, like applying ice packs soon after my runs. I'm also putting in more time with the warm ups/downs, trying new stretches, but not overdoing it of course. Anyway, it was my third 10 mile run and easily my most comfortable. Also the most enjoyable; the route took me all around Oxford and particularly through the glittering city centre and up towards (the not so glittering) Summertown. I timed my splits every 2 miles so knew throughout that I was setting a decent pace. I was very consistent, slowing down only on the steeper parts, but completing each mile in around eight and a half minutes. I even managed a sprint finish, clocking up 7 minutes for the 10th mile and coming home in 1hr 24 mins, a 2 minute improvement on last week. I felt I could have ran another 3 miles if absolutely pushed, but elected to stick with the plan. At my current rate of progress, a 1hr 45min target may be realistic for the half marathon. We'll see.
Similar programme for the coming week, though I may well take on a 12 mile run on the weekend. In any case, I'll decide beforehand. I'm running 10k with David Langer (see previous post) on Thursday at 9am; my earliest run in ages. Can. Not. Wait.
Friday 7 August 2009
Mixing it with a pro
Moments after publicising my entry into my first half marathon (October 11, Birmingham) on Facebook, I received an intriguing post from David Langer, Maths graduate from St Anne's, Oxford, CEO of GroupSpaces, Table Tennis supremo (the only reason I have a winning Cuppers medal) and game show legend (Brainteaser, Countdown Krypton Factor). It's fair to say he has some skills (or is it skillz?). He casually announced he'd enter too. Whereas I mulled over it for ages after 3 months of training, he took all of 2 minutes (if that). That's the difference, I guess. Dave has completed various triathlons, made mincemeat of the gruelling Krypton Factor course and is now eyeing up his first marathon. So Birmingham should be a doddle.
Unsurprisingly, David's target is far more ambitious than my own; he's looking to break the elusive 90 minute barrier. My own goal is anything under 2 hours, so I doubt we'll be racing together for long on the day.
I take great pleasure from the isolation of running 10 miles on my own, getting lost in my own bizarre world as I take in the scenery. However, the idea of running with others is certainly appealing. After all, I'll be alongside 9000 fellow runners on race day so I'd better get used to it. Running with someone as athletically capable with as Dave should be approached with caution. There is a real chance I'll end up demoralised. Losing is never nice. Being walloped is even worse. Despite this, it'll be a wonderful opportunity to pick up tricks of the trade from a seasoned campaigner. I'm curious about his training regime, diet and simply want to know how he is able to compete triathlons with such ease. If even a fraction rubs off, it'll be worth it. Also, it's been far too long since I saw David, so this is a perfect opportunity to reignite our formidable partnership. We'll be doing a 10k run to start with and maybe longer runs after.
Thinking more long term, if I do take on a full marathon next year I'll be training a lot more intensely and the opportunity to run with others on a weekly basis may be crucial. I'm tempted to join a local running group; a fantastic way to meet like minded people. However, I'd much rather train with someone I already know and there may be some plausible candidates, Dave included. My buddy Ed has been taking on 10-15 kilometre runs in China this Summer and has expressed an interest in taking up serious running next year. He also presents the problem of being at a much higher level (in more ways than one; at 6 ft 8inches he's undoubtedly the tallest person in my life) and will no doubt surpass any level I have before long. I guess we'll discuss it some more when he gets back.
Unsurprisingly, David's target is far more ambitious than my own; he's looking to break the elusive 90 minute barrier. My own goal is anything under 2 hours, so I doubt we'll be racing together for long on the day.
I take great pleasure from the isolation of running 10 miles on my own, getting lost in my own bizarre world as I take in the scenery. However, the idea of running with others is certainly appealing. After all, I'll be alongside 9000 fellow runners on race day so I'd better get used to it. Running with someone as athletically capable with as Dave should be approached with caution. There is a real chance I'll end up demoralised. Losing is never nice. Being walloped is even worse. Despite this, it'll be a wonderful opportunity to pick up tricks of the trade from a seasoned campaigner. I'm curious about his training regime, diet and simply want to know how he is able to compete triathlons with such ease. If even a fraction rubs off, it'll be worth it. Also, it's been far too long since I saw David, so this is a perfect opportunity to reignite our formidable partnership. We'll be doing a 10k run to start with and maybe longer runs after.
Thinking more long term, if I do take on a full marathon next year I'll be training a lot more intensely and the opportunity to run with others on a weekly basis may be crucial. I'm tempted to join a local running group; a fantastic way to meet like minded people. However, I'd much rather train with someone I already know and there may be some plausible candidates, Dave included. My buddy Ed has been taking on 10-15 kilometre runs in China this Summer and has expressed an interest in taking up serious running next year. He also presents the problem of being at a much higher level (in more ways than one; at 6 ft 8inches he's undoubtedly the tallest person in my life) and will no doubt surpass any level I have before long. I guess we'll discuss it some more when he gets back.
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