Another long run out of the way - and what a mixed bag it was too.
The target distance was 12 miles although I ended up doing almost 13 miles. I'd planned a lovely zig zig route along the Thames to get me back to West London. The first 6 miles were great, lots of riverside views, very few roads to cross and not even a lot of traffic to pollute my lungs. However, once I reached Putney Bridge it all went a bit wrong - Putney and Barnes were very traffic heavy, even the countrified bits of Barnes were relatively chaotic. The situation got worse when I realised that Barnes is too posh for street names, and as a result I was totally and utterly lost.
I found a street/path that said it led to the river, so headed off down there, sweaty and hopeful. The path seemed to go on for miles and just kept leading into more and more trees and bushes. Where was the river?
By this point, my knees were getting a bit panicky. How much of a detour was this? Was I going to have to go back to the main road and find a 72 bus to follow? Was I just going to have to give up and get on the 72 because I would end up running another 6 miles round Barnes just trying to find a way out?
Finally, though, a bit of blue on the horizon. Knees started whooping with joy, until we got to the riverside and I couldn't see Hammersmith Bridge. Vague panic #2 set in, until I found the tiny 4pt sign that said it was 3/4 mile to the left. Tiny but beautiful sign, oh how I love you!
I think we can safely say this is the first time in history that anyone has been pleased to see the Hammersmith flyover.
Unfortunately, by this point I was desperate for a drink, so had to make another detour into M&S in Hammersmith to buy a bottle of water. Despite having cash and only one item, no one would let me go before them and their large weekly purchase of ready meals so I had to stand an twiddle my sweaty thumbs for a while in the queue, slowly eroding any pace I'd built up on the Nike+ to get there in the first place. I consoled myself with wishing bad karma on the woman in front of me.
Water duly purchased, off I head towards salubrious Hammersmith/Acton borders. Unfortunately, the change from my bottle of water is now clinking loudly in the back pocket of running trousers and I only made it half a mile before I had to stop again to rearrange the contents of my pocket to remove any jingling. Third time lucky, I head off on the final leg towards my parents' house and a damn good feed.
The whole experience was pretty knackering, both mentally and physically. I had all sorts of new aches and pains by the time I finished, with knees and achilles both being particuarly vocal about this new, non-Tube, route home. I was also particularly 'cheered' by my Beloved's comment over dinner that if I'd run back to work again, that would be the marathon distance.
Amazingly though, I seem to have woken up this morning ache- and stiffness free. I realise now that 12-13 miles is now no longer a real surprise for my body. I have clearly trained it to cope with that distance with a minimum of complaint - now all I get is the occasional whinge, usually along the lines of 'can we just sit down for a minute, please? Please? Will you just BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN!' And it might just have a point there.
Cheered by my powers of recovery, I'm trying to forget about the NY marathon for a few weeks and am concentrating on achieving a PB in the Great North Run in 3 weeks. I'm aiming to do it in under 2 hours. Last night's time - 2h01min. So assuming I don't get a) lost or b) have to stop to queue up in M&S, I think I may have a chance!
LON
Friday 28 August 2009
Thursday 27 August 2009
I can run, but I can't hide
I'm back in London after a week in Spain, pondering the impact of my summer holiday on my training programme.
Amazingly, I actually managed to run three times while on holiday. An unprecedented display of self-discipline on my part, I'm impressed by how much this marathon has terrified me into training wherever I am.
I was dreading running in Spain. The heat, the stares, the yappy little dogs - would they be too much for me to stand? In the end, it worked out ok. I did some research online before I went, and found the website of the local running club. Being Spain, this club seems to be only open to men but thankfully they do share their recommended training routes with us chicas so I was able to try that out. Luckily for me it was even my side of town.
It was, as promised, relatively traffic free. I even saw another woman running there, on her own, on the second day. (And the world didn't end, you machistas out there...). It wasn't, however, free of aggressive toy dogs or staring middle-aged Spanish people. Nor was it free of hecklers either ( is this a running landmark? Heckled in two languages?) - my favourite heckle is now being sung 'Vamos a la playa' by a Moroccan teenager on a bike. Beat that, Northolt scrotes...
I tried running about 10.30 on the first morning but there is absolutely no shade at this time of day on this route so tried the next two runs at sunset, which worked much better. The second run, on Sunday evening, was possibly the best I've felt all training. I was fast, I felt fit, I felt like a runner. I was jubilant when I got back - I could really see some progress. The third run brought me back to earth with a bump, as I felt slow, unfit and was riddled with stitches. My own fault for not eating enough during the day, I suspect.
As for eating and drinking, I was of course forced to try out some new carb-loading regimes while out of the country. I ate plenty of salads and fish to combat the high levels of pork and cheese consumption. Pan con tomate for breakfast works a treat, pan con something else for lunch also helps and Puleva Batido de cacao is a fine replacement for recovery drinks back home. I also found a great post-recovery recovery drink, which is Shandy Cruzcampo. The sooner somebody brings that to Britain the better - el rey de refrescos. Of course, you need to make sure you don't drink the milkshake and the shandy at the same time, that would be disgusting.
Admittedly, I can't be too smug. Although I managed to do the right amount of mileage for week 5, I'm now midway through week 6 with only a 4 mile jog under my belt. This is way off the mark for what I should be running this week and I'm away this weekend too. so week 6 is taking a big hit. I've scrapped the intervals for this week (any excuse) and am planning a couple of 5 milers at the weekend and just have to hope I can fit these in round social life
I'm making sure I do my long run though - in fact, it's safe to say I'm obsessed with doing the long runs. My theory is that as long I keep progressing through the long runs, I should be ok if I falter slightly on the shorter midweek runs. This week I'm supposed to do 12 miles, so have decided the only chance I'll get to do this is by running from work to my parents' this evening for my dad's birthday dinner. With any luck, he won't even notice I'm purple in the face and dripping with sweat
I'm looking forward to running a totally different route but yet a familiar one. I'll be running alongside the Thames for a large part of it and under the Hammersmith flyover for a (thankfully) small part of it but hopefully it should notch up the miles enough to keep me fit for Week 7 so I can get back on track
LON
Amazingly, I actually managed to run three times while on holiday. An unprecedented display of self-discipline on my part, I'm impressed by how much this marathon has terrified me into training wherever I am.
I was dreading running in Spain. The heat, the stares, the yappy little dogs - would they be too much for me to stand? In the end, it worked out ok. I did some research online before I went, and found the website of the local running club. Being Spain, this club seems to be only open to men but thankfully they do share their recommended training routes with us chicas so I was able to try that out. Luckily for me it was even my side of town.
It was, as promised, relatively traffic free. I even saw another woman running there, on her own, on the second day. (And the world didn't end, you machistas out there...). It wasn't, however, free of aggressive toy dogs or staring middle-aged Spanish people. Nor was it free of hecklers either ( is this a running landmark? Heckled in two languages?) - my favourite heckle is now being sung 'Vamos a la playa' by a Moroccan teenager on a bike. Beat that, Northolt scrotes...
I tried running about 10.30 on the first morning but there is absolutely no shade at this time of day on this route so tried the next two runs at sunset, which worked much better. The second run, on Sunday evening, was possibly the best I've felt all training. I was fast, I felt fit, I felt like a runner. I was jubilant when I got back - I could really see some progress. The third run brought me back to earth with a bump, as I felt slow, unfit and was riddled with stitches. My own fault for not eating enough during the day, I suspect.
As for eating and drinking, I was of course forced to try out some new carb-loading regimes while out of the country. I ate plenty of salads and fish to combat the high levels of pork and cheese consumption. Pan con tomate for breakfast works a treat, pan con something else for lunch also helps and Puleva Batido de cacao is a fine replacement for recovery drinks back home. I also found a great post-recovery recovery drink, which is Shandy Cruzcampo. The sooner somebody brings that to Britain the better - el rey de refrescos. Of course, you need to make sure you don't drink the milkshake and the shandy at the same time, that would be disgusting.
Admittedly, I can't be too smug. Although I managed to do the right amount of mileage for week 5, I'm now midway through week 6 with only a 4 mile jog under my belt. This is way off the mark for what I should be running this week and I'm away this weekend too. so week 6 is taking a big hit. I've scrapped the intervals for this week (any excuse) and am planning a couple of 5 milers at the weekend and just have to hope I can fit these in round social life
I'm making sure I do my long run though - in fact, it's safe to say I'm obsessed with doing the long runs. My theory is that as long I keep progressing through the long runs, I should be ok if I falter slightly on the shorter midweek runs. This week I'm supposed to do 12 miles, so have decided the only chance I'll get to do this is by running from work to my parents' this evening for my dad's birthday dinner. With any luck, he won't even notice I'm purple in the face and dripping with sweat
I'm looking forward to running a totally different route but yet a familiar one. I'll be running alongside the Thames for a large part of it and under the Hammersmith flyover for a (thankfully) small part of it but hopefully it should notch up the miles enough to keep me fit for Week 7 so I can get back on track
LON
Wednesday 19 August 2009
time to leave for summer non-training camp
I've been doing a lot of running in the last 24 hours, trying to stock up on the miles and get a head start before I head off on a week's holiday to Spain. I'm packing the trainers and running kit, but I have no intention of setting myself up for a massive fall, or fail, by telling myself I'll do a long run while I'm over there - 32 degree heat and a small town environment that doesn't look favourably on women running round on their own in lycra does not lend itself to a 10 miler. So I did my interval training last night, and my 10 miles this morning before work.
I did notice that this morning's run was the first long run I've ever done where I didn't want to have a lie down immediately afterwards. Could it be my body is finally adapting to this crazy endurance test I'm putting it through? Or could it be psychological, because lil 'ole body knew it had to go out to a meeting and didn't have time for a lie down?
I will run while I'm away, of course. I can't let my legs have a break for 7 days, I'd lose too much fitness. But now I only have to do a couple of steady or slow 4 miles, which is much more manageable and leaves me plenty of free time to rest the legs in the sunshine with a beer or two. It's all carb loading, really.
I'm a bit worried about NY though - a brilliant time in only her third half marathon on Sunday, shaving another 8 minutes off her previous PB, in 94 degree heat, even managing to dance to YMCA along the way. But NY seems to be doubting her ability to do twice the distance and I just want to remind her that she's got a lot more training to do yet, a lot more miles to put in and as long as we put the preparation in, all will be well. As the t-shirt in the Austin running shop did read, Mile 23 is my bitch...repeat after me, ad infinitum
until next week,
LON
I did notice that this morning's run was the first long run I've ever done where I didn't want to have a lie down immediately afterwards. Could it be my body is finally adapting to this crazy endurance test I'm putting it through? Or could it be psychological, because lil 'ole body knew it had to go out to a meeting and didn't have time for a lie down?
I will run while I'm away, of course. I can't let my legs have a break for 7 days, I'd lose too much fitness. But now I only have to do a couple of steady or slow 4 miles, which is much more manageable and leaves me plenty of free time to rest the legs in the sunshine with a beer or two. It's all carb loading, really.
I'm a bit worried about NY though - a brilliant time in only her third half marathon on Sunday, shaving another 8 minutes off her previous PB, in 94 degree heat, even managing to dance to YMCA along the way. But NY seems to be doubting her ability to do twice the distance and I just want to remind her that she's got a lot more training to do yet, a lot more miles to put in and as long as we put the preparation in, all will be well. As the t-shirt in the Austin running shop did read, Mile 23 is my bitch...repeat after me, ad infinitum
until next week,
LON
Sunday 16 August 2009
One down, three to go
Quarters that is - I am now officially over a quarter of the way through my marathon training. I am onto the second sheet of A4 of my training plan. I am celebrating with a homemade sausage roll.
What an exciting life I lead now. My whole life revolves round my training plan. When I can eat, when I can drink, when I can socialise, when I can lie down with my legs elevated and watch a DVD... it's all ruled by the training programme. But I definitely feel like I've achieved something 4 weeks in.
I did have an interim goal for this first quarter - to run a 10k in less than 55 mins. Just in case you are wondering, I failed. But only just. I ran a 10k in 56mins this morning, so close but no cigar (which is just as well because cigars are not generally recommended as part of a training regime). I'm actually very chuffed with that because I felt pretty rubbish while running this morning - very sluggish and unfit. And it's a PB! Tick.
I've conducted a mini review of my progress so far and I'm giving me an 7 out of 10. I've put the runs in, even with the odd hangover but I didn't do so good on two of the interval sessions, nor did I make a sub 55 10k. So I can't give full marks but definitely a gold star for trying.
I've learnt some important lessons in these first four weeks too - that it's wise to keep your mouth closed (flies taste rubbish), that toddlers can heckle too, that I should remember to breathe and most importantly, that rest day means rest. I've acquired a new pair of trainers, 3 new pairs of socks and a taste for vanilla flavoured For Goodness Shakes. I wonder if they sell those in New York?
Now I'm looking forward to part deux, and the next set of trials. I think the main challenge for this week is to force myself to run while I'm on holiday in Spain - high temperatures and cold San Miguels are huge disincentives and I feel a real test of discipline coming on.
Here goes...
LON
What an exciting life I lead now. My whole life revolves round my training plan. When I can eat, when I can drink, when I can socialise, when I can lie down with my legs elevated and watch a DVD... it's all ruled by the training programme. But I definitely feel like I've achieved something 4 weeks in.
I did have an interim goal for this first quarter - to run a 10k in less than 55 mins. Just in case you are wondering, I failed. But only just. I ran a 10k in 56mins this morning, so close but no cigar (which is just as well because cigars are not generally recommended as part of a training regime). I'm actually very chuffed with that because I felt pretty rubbish while running this morning - very sluggish and unfit. And it's a PB! Tick.
I've conducted a mini review of my progress so far and I'm giving me an 7 out of 10. I've put the runs in, even with the odd hangover but I didn't do so good on two of the interval sessions, nor did I make a sub 55 10k. So I can't give full marks but definitely a gold star for trying.
I've learnt some important lessons in these first four weeks too - that it's wise to keep your mouth closed (flies taste rubbish), that toddlers can heckle too, that I should remember to breathe and most importantly, that rest day means rest. I've acquired a new pair of trainers, 3 new pairs of socks and a taste for vanilla flavoured For Goodness Shakes. I wonder if they sell those in New York?
Now I'm looking forward to part deux, and the next set of trials. I think the main challenge for this week is to force myself to run while I'm on holiday in Spain - high temperatures and cold San Miguels are huge disincentives and I feel a real test of discipline coming on.
Here goes...
LON
Thursday 13 August 2009
mind over matter and midges
This week's running has been going so well, I've not had the chance to tell you about it. After last weekend's collywobbles, I seem to be properly back on track. I even managed to pull off an interval training session last night without wheezing.
I'm undecided on the reason for my belated 'success' with intervals. It could be that the intervals were shorter - 800m is probably about as far as I can go full pelt without respiratory collapse. It could be that I'd eaten enough - although eating curry for lunch may not seem like the ideal preparation for effort through exercise, it didn't seem to have any adverse effects last night. It could be the extra protein I took on while running, by eating several midges en route. Or it could be mind over matter.
I read an article last week in a cycling magazine about interval training. I know cycling isn't quite the same as running (cyclists get to sit down for most of their workout, for a start) but the training concept for intervals does seem similar.
The point behind the article was that interval training, and the exertions it requires, trains your brain to think that it can cope with this extra effort.
I thought this was an interesting concept. It's just an embellishment of positive thinking really, and who knows, perhaps I have been sending a mixed message to my brain by trying to prove to it that physically it can handle bursts of exertion while at the same time telling it that it's impossible.
When I set off last night, I resolved to do the intervals and, more importantly, think I could do them. This involved trying to think of lots of other things while running the 800m bursts (remembering to breathe being top of the list) but the distraction technique seemed to have worked. Now my brain thinks it is fit, who knows what else it can do?
The goal for this week is a sub 55 minute 10k at the weekend, which would be a PB. It's my first test in this training programme and last night's run has made me look forward to it, instead of dreading it. I won't be repeating the pre-run curry (or hopefully the midge eating) so at worst, I can use it as a control for my mind over matter experiment.
As for the shoe crisis, I am persisting with my high heels, but still experiencing a twinge in the left calf. I have made a mental note to buy some 'sensible' shoes at the weekend but I think might be the biggest test of mind over matter that I can set myself at any point in this training programme
LON
I'm undecided on the reason for my belated 'success' with intervals. It could be that the intervals were shorter - 800m is probably about as far as I can go full pelt without respiratory collapse. It could be that I'd eaten enough - although eating curry for lunch may not seem like the ideal preparation for effort through exercise, it didn't seem to have any adverse effects last night. It could be the extra protein I took on while running, by eating several midges en route. Or it could be mind over matter.
I read an article last week in a cycling magazine about interval training. I know cycling isn't quite the same as running (cyclists get to sit down for most of their workout, for a start) but the training concept for intervals does seem similar.
The point behind the article was that interval training, and the exertions it requires, trains your brain to think that it can cope with this extra effort.
I thought this was an interesting concept. It's just an embellishment of positive thinking really, and who knows, perhaps I have been sending a mixed message to my brain by trying to prove to it that physically it can handle bursts of exertion while at the same time telling it that it's impossible.
When I set off last night, I resolved to do the intervals and, more importantly, think I could do them. This involved trying to think of lots of other things while running the 800m bursts (remembering to breathe being top of the list) but the distraction technique seemed to have worked. Now my brain thinks it is fit, who knows what else it can do?
The goal for this week is a sub 55 minute 10k at the weekend, which would be a PB. It's my first test in this training programme and last night's run has made me look forward to it, instead of dreading it. I won't be repeating the pre-run curry (or hopefully the midge eating) so at worst, I can use it as a control for my mind over matter experiment.
As for the shoe crisis, I am persisting with my high heels, but still experiencing a twinge in the left calf. I have made a mental note to buy some 'sensible' shoes at the weekend but I think might be the biggest test of mind over matter that I can set myself at any point in this training programme
LON
Monday 10 August 2009
R & R
This weekend has been a bit of eye opener training-wise. Running has not been a problem at all, but post-run has been much more traumatic than it should be.
I think we can safely that I have learnt a lesson - that when your training plan says rest, you should rest. And it means rest, it does not mean ironing, a bit of gardening, cleaning and dusting the bedroom and doing your weekly shop. Apparently when you do this, you suffer from mild exhaustion and wobbly legs. Who'd have thought it? And this is only after a 24 mile week - what will it be like when I'm doing 40+ miles?
Forced to lie down on the sofa with legs elevated on a Saturday night (no funny remarks please) instead of going out with friends, I made a conscious decision to include more specific rest periods in my week. I'm going to have to be more grown up about the recovery part of the training, and stop focusing on mileage alone.
After Sunday's long run, I showered and then went for a 90-minute lie down. This seemed to work a treat. I still felt a bit knackered but only a little bit, and I have no aches and pains today either.
I think this means we can add another bonus to running training. Not only do you get the green light to eat Jaffa cakes, you also get to lie down for a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon and not feel guilty about it.
However, it's not all feet up and biscuits. There was another shadow over my weekend - the effect of high heels.
My legs were being particularly communicative this weekend. Not only did they vote with their feet (excuse the pun) and make me lie down for long periods, they also voiced their concern about high heeled shoes.
This is a major issue for me - I am not a sensible shoe kind of girl. I'm 5'2" and need all the artifical assistance I can get to make me look good in an outfit. Twinges in my calves are not a good sign and I'm worried I'm going to have to get some sensible shoes, even if just for the commute to work. Obviously I want to avoid the Melanie Griffith in Working Girl look so the hunt is on for some 'sensible' shoes that work with skirts. Stay tuned...
LON
I think we can safely that I have learnt a lesson - that when your training plan says rest, you should rest. And it means rest, it does not mean ironing, a bit of gardening, cleaning and dusting the bedroom and doing your weekly shop. Apparently when you do this, you suffer from mild exhaustion and wobbly legs. Who'd have thought it? And this is only after a 24 mile week - what will it be like when I'm doing 40+ miles?
Forced to lie down on the sofa with legs elevated on a Saturday night (no funny remarks please) instead of going out with friends, I made a conscious decision to include more specific rest periods in my week. I'm going to have to be more grown up about the recovery part of the training, and stop focusing on mileage alone.
After Sunday's long run, I showered and then went for a 90-minute lie down. This seemed to work a treat. I still felt a bit knackered but only a little bit, and I have no aches and pains today either.
I think this means we can add another bonus to running training. Not only do you get the green light to eat Jaffa cakes, you also get to lie down for a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon and not feel guilty about it.
However, it's not all feet up and biscuits. There was another shadow over my weekend - the effect of high heels.
My legs were being particularly communicative this weekend. Not only did they vote with their feet (excuse the pun) and make me lie down for long periods, they also voiced their concern about high heeled shoes.
This is a major issue for me - I am not a sensible shoe kind of girl. I'm 5'2" and need all the artifical assistance I can get to make me look good in an outfit. Twinges in my calves are not a good sign and I'm worried I'm going to have to get some sensible shoes, even if just for the commute to work. Obviously I want to avoid the Melanie Griffith in Working Girl look so the hunt is on for some 'sensible' shoes that work with skirts. Stay tuned...
LON
Saturday 8 August 2009
running through my mind
today's 3 miles steady was too uneventful to write about, so you'll have to settle for the (true) story that was running through my mind while I ran.
Last night I went for dinner in one of my favourite gastropubs, the Anglesea Arms in Hammersmith. Even for a Friday night, it was really busy and all the tables were full twice over.
About halfway through our meal, the table next to us filled up for second time. Its occupants were a woman and two men. I couldn't see the woman's face but the two men were Michael Sheen - star of Oscar-nominated movies the Queen and Frost/Nixon and more recently, The Damned United. The other guy used to be Warren in This Life on BBC2 in the mid-90s and I've not seen him in a thing since. I was quite excited to see a movie star in the pub, even if he is homegrown. The two middle-aged couples on the table on the other side also seemed very excited to see them, even if they were being really indiscreet about it.
Anyway the actors seemed to be having a nice evening between Welsh friends. Sheen was taking the mick out of the other bloke for going to see Coco Before Chanel. Your average Friday night conversation between mates.
One of the men from the couples' group got up to go to the loo - clearly legless - and on his way back, decided to stop at their table. He doesn't even register Michael Sheen but instead turns round to the other guy and says
'weren't you in Midsomer Murders* recently?'
So there you go, any actors reading this blog. You really want to be famous, tell your agent to stick those Hollywood movies and those high-profile parts. You can play Tony Blair as many times as you want, but what really counts is those bit parts in a lousy ITV cop drama :)
LON
*for our American readers, Midsomer Murders is a dull, repetitive provincial English cop series. Midsomer is a small rural town in England where someone gets murdered every week. It's about as far from the Wire in quality and plotting as you're going to get.
Last night I went for dinner in one of my favourite gastropubs, the Anglesea Arms in Hammersmith. Even for a Friday night, it was really busy and all the tables were full twice over.
About halfway through our meal, the table next to us filled up for second time. Its occupants were a woman and two men. I couldn't see the woman's face but the two men were Michael Sheen - star of Oscar-nominated movies the Queen and Frost/Nixon and more recently, The Damned United. The other guy used to be Warren in This Life on BBC2 in the mid-90s and I've not seen him in a thing since. I was quite excited to see a movie star in the pub, even if he is homegrown. The two middle-aged couples on the table on the other side also seemed very excited to see them, even if they were being really indiscreet about it.
Anyway the actors seemed to be having a nice evening between Welsh friends. Sheen was taking the mick out of the other bloke for going to see Coco Before Chanel. Your average Friday night conversation between mates.
One of the men from the couples' group got up to go to the loo - clearly legless - and on his way back, decided to stop at their table. He doesn't even register Michael Sheen but instead turns round to the other guy and says
'weren't you in Midsomer Murders* recently?'
So there you go, any actors reading this blog. You really want to be famous, tell your agent to stick those Hollywood movies and those high-profile parts. You can play Tony Blair as many times as you want, but what really counts is those bit parts in a lousy ITV cop drama :)
LON
*for our American readers, Midsomer Murders is a dull, repetitive provincial English cop series. Midsomer is a small rural town in England where someone gets murdered every week. It's about as far from the Wire in quality and plotting as you're going to get.
Thursday 6 August 2009
Built for comfort, not for speed
Someone had better explain to me the benefits of interval training, and fast. Because I'm beginning to doubt whether this does any good at all.
Are you supposed to wheeze like a 60-a-day asthmatic? Is your left knee supposed to make that noise? Are your achilles heels supposed to try and leave your body after 3 miles? Is that the plan? Is it? Is it really?
Yet again, I failed to complete the interval training session proposed by my training plan last night. Admittedly it was a vast improvement on last week, in that I didn't get any cramps and I didn't have to stop and walk any distance. On the downside, I did have to stop at one point because I thought I might throw up, which I didn't think was part of the plan.
Instead of 3 x 1m fast intervals with 400m recoveries, and a 1 mile jog at either end, I managed 1 mile jog, 0.9 mile interval with 400m recovery, 0.75 mile interval with 500m recovery and vomit avoidance tactics, 0.5 mile interval with 400m recovery and weird-noise-emitting knee, 0.5 interval and the world's slowest jog home. It's the most piecemeal 5 miles I've ever done
The fact that I think this is an improvement only speaks volumes for how bad last week's effort.
It doesn't help that every time I start a 1 mile fast interval, an uphill section begins*. Perhaps I need to plot a flat route for interval training next week and see if that helps. And if it doesn't, just accept I am built for comfort, not for speed.
Trainer update: well, they're still holding up. Still look shiny and white and new, although I think tonight's weather forecast will soon sort that situation out.
Looking forward to a steady 3 mile 'recovery' run tonight to test them out on the easy stuff.
LON
*And dodging drunks at bus stops is not ideal either
Are you supposed to wheeze like a 60-a-day asthmatic? Is your left knee supposed to make that noise? Are your achilles heels supposed to try and leave your body after 3 miles? Is that the plan? Is it? Is it really?
Yet again, I failed to complete the interval training session proposed by my training plan last night. Admittedly it was a vast improvement on last week, in that I didn't get any cramps and I didn't have to stop and walk any distance. On the downside, I did have to stop at one point because I thought I might throw up, which I didn't think was part of the plan.
Instead of 3 x 1m fast intervals with 400m recoveries, and a 1 mile jog at either end, I managed 1 mile jog, 0.9 mile interval with 400m recovery, 0.75 mile interval with 500m recovery and vomit avoidance tactics, 0.5 mile interval with 400m recovery and weird-noise-emitting knee, 0.5 interval and the world's slowest jog home. It's the most piecemeal 5 miles I've ever done
The fact that I think this is an improvement only speaks volumes for how bad last week's effort.
It doesn't help that every time I start a 1 mile fast interval, an uphill section begins*. Perhaps I need to plot a flat route for interval training next week and see if that helps. And if it doesn't, just accept I am built for comfort, not for speed.
Trainer update: well, they're still holding up. Still look shiny and white and new, although I think tonight's weather forecast will soon sort that situation out.
Looking forward to a steady 3 mile 'recovery' run tonight to test them out on the easy stuff.
LON
*And dodging drunks at bus stops is not ideal either
Tuesday 4 August 2009
so far, so good
Started week 3 this morning with another run in the new trainers. 4 miles slow is not the biggest test, but they passed it, if not exactly with flying colours.
As any woman with new shoes would agree, I can't help being distracted by the new footwear every now and again, and have to keep glancing down at them. Admittedly, it's not to bask in the glamour of my new purchase but more to ponder the optical illusion that I am running on the outside of my feet. This is clearly a deliberate move by the shoe fitter to get me to run straight but it's a weird sensation. Particularly at 7.15 am when you are half asleep.
For those of you not intimate with my feet (you lucky, lucky people), I overpronate. For the uninitiated, this means my foot tilts inwards when I land on the ground, with the inside of my heel landing at an angle. This results in blisters, and wear and tear on the inside of the shoe, not to mention the outside of my knee. There are lots of trainers out there made for those who overpronate (they're called stability shoes for you newbies), which involve stabilising the foot and making you run a bit straighter, essentially.
The catch is, most people who overpronate have really flat feet, which makes their heel strike the floor at this angle. So most of these shoes are built to fit a foot without an arch.
Me being me, I like to be difficult. I overpronate but have high arches. Freakishly high arches, I was told when I bought my previous pair of trainers. Which was nice.
So I've never really found the perfect pair of trainers to date. My shiny clean new shoes however are supposed to support my arch while making my heel strike straight. I think it must be working but of course, for me looking down, it feels like my feet are going the wrong way.
I've realise there's an easy solution to this - don't look down. But then you wouldn't have got to hear that story, would you?
The other incident on this morning's run was a mild scare from a black cat. It wasn't the cat's fault, it was sat quite happily on its own garden wall, minding its own cat business, plotting the next instalment in its plan to vomit somewhere inappropriate in its owner's home. But as I said earlier, I was half asleep. And running very close to said wall.
Before I knew, I had brushed against the black cat. I screamed (like I said, half asleep) at the feel of something furry. The cat didn't even blink, just looked up at me as if to say 'silly cow'.
I was fairly awake after that...
tomorrow is another go at interval training, my bete noire. I'm looking forward to tackling the next attempt in a more positive fashion, with the help of my new bouncy trainers. Check back to see if there's a happy, shoe-related ending
LON
As any woman with new shoes would agree, I can't help being distracted by the new footwear every now and again, and have to keep glancing down at them. Admittedly, it's not to bask in the glamour of my new purchase but more to ponder the optical illusion that I am running on the outside of my feet. This is clearly a deliberate move by the shoe fitter to get me to run straight but it's a weird sensation. Particularly at 7.15 am when you are half asleep.
For those of you not intimate with my feet (you lucky, lucky people), I overpronate. For the uninitiated, this means my foot tilts inwards when I land on the ground, with the inside of my heel landing at an angle. This results in blisters, and wear and tear on the inside of the shoe, not to mention the outside of my knee. There are lots of trainers out there made for those who overpronate (they're called stability shoes for you newbies), which involve stabilising the foot and making you run a bit straighter, essentially.
The catch is, most people who overpronate have really flat feet, which makes their heel strike the floor at this angle. So most of these shoes are built to fit a foot without an arch.
Me being me, I like to be difficult. I overpronate but have high arches. Freakishly high arches, I was told when I bought my previous pair of trainers. Which was nice.
So I've never really found the perfect pair of trainers to date. My shiny clean new shoes however are supposed to support my arch while making my heel strike straight. I think it must be working but of course, for me looking down, it feels like my feet are going the wrong way.
I've realise there's an easy solution to this - don't look down. But then you wouldn't have got to hear that story, would you?
The other incident on this morning's run was a mild scare from a black cat. It wasn't the cat's fault, it was sat quite happily on its own garden wall, minding its own cat business, plotting the next instalment in its plan to vomit somewhere inappropriate in its owner's home. But as I said earlier, I was half asleep. And running very close to said wall.
Before I knew, I had brushed against the black cat. I screamed (like I said, half asleep) at the feel of something furry. The cat didn't even blink, just looked up at me as if to say 'silly cow'.
I was fairly awake after that...
tomorrow is another go at interval training, my bete noire. I'm looking forward to tackling the next attempt in a more positive fashion, with the help of my new bouncy trainers. Check back to see if there's a happy, shoe-related ending
LON
Sunday 2 August 2009
I've got some new shoes on and everything's going to be alright
Two weeks down, 13 to go. Possibly not the most uplifting of training mantras but every week under the belt is an achievement.
To mark the training milestone, I indulged in some runner's retail therapy yesterday. I was long overdue a new pair of trainers and I realised the hard way that I did not have enough socks to get me through 4 or 5 runs a week, so I paid Sweatshop a visit.
For most runners in the UK, Sweatshop is probably a regular trip but I've never been to one of their stores before, mainly because they are not really conveniently located for my office or home. But I think it was well worth the detour, as I was very thoroughly checked out by one of their shoe fitters and am now the proud owner of a bouncy new pair of Adidas Salvation. I'm just hoping the name is not prophetic come November 1st.
I also replaced my now defunct Nike+ sportsband. This wonderful little toy is a great help with pacing runs, even if you did have to frequently recalibrated the old version. My old sportsband died a death back in May, along with most other Sportsband, and Nike have been busy refunding money and revamping the product at the same time. Fingers crossed Mark 2 works well, because it colour coordinates perfectly with my new trainers !
I didn't get to test out the new Sportsband on today's 7 miles, as it hadn't fully charged, but I did give my new footwear a good workout. I felt springy and bouncy, but suffered from a range of twinges along the way. It started with a pain in the left shin, which then moved to the right shin, which then moved to the right hip, then onto the left hip, then down to the left IT band. I'm hoping this is a natural reaction from my body to a brand new ride, not that the trainers were the wrong choice, but I think test driving the trainers may be a major feature of my programme for the next couple of weeks.
I'm now shattered and need to sign off and lie down. You might be thinking - what a wuss, knackered after 7 miles - but let's just say that I probably won't be drinking half a bottle of white wine on October 31st and leave it at that...
LON
To mark the training milestone, I indulged in some runner's retail therapy yesterday. I was long overdue a new pair of trainers and I realised the hard way that I did not have enough socks to get me through 4 or 5 runs a week, so I paid Sweatshop a visit.
For most runners in the UK, Sweatshop is probably a regular trip but I've never been to one of their stores before, mainly because they are not really conveniently located for my office or home. But I think it was well worth the detour, as I was very thoroughly checked out by one of their shoe fitters and am now the proud owner of a bouncy new pair of Adidas Salvation. I'm just hoping the name is not prophetic come November 1st.
I also replaced my now defunct Nike+ sportsband. This wonderful little toy is a great help with pacing runs, even if you did have to frequently recalibrated the old version. My old sportsband died a death back in May, along with most other Sportsband, and Nike have been busy refunding money and revamping the product at the same time. Fingers crossed Mark 2 works well, because it colour coordinates perfectly with my new trainers !
I didn't get to test out the new Sportsband on today's 7 miles, as it hadn't fully charged, but I did give my new footwear a good workout. I felt springy and bouncy, but suffered from a range of twinges along the way. It started with a pain in the left shin, which then moved to the right shin, which then moved to the right hip, then onto the left hip, then down to the left IT band. I'm hoping this is a natural reaction from my body to a brand new ride, not that the trainers were the wrong choice, but I think test driving the trainers may be a major feature of my programme for the next couple of weeks.
I'm now shattered and need to sign off and lie down. You might be thinking - what a wuss, knackered after 7 miles - but let's just say that I probably won't be drinking half a bottle of white wine on October 31st and leave it at that...
LON
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
