Not for the first time it struck me how many people are involved in your race experience. I know running is a solitary pursuit at the majority of time and racing is an event where you concentrate solely on yourself, but in actual fact there is so much more to it.
So, while perfectly aware that I'm bound to forget some people, the following have had a real, positive effect on last Saturday.
Julian, for giving me a lift, which saved me from having to rent a car for the day, with the expense and hassle that comes with that.
Anto, for putting the show on the road 10 years ago and he has given it a personal touch that may rub some off wrongly but is highly appreciated by most.
All the volunteers who gave out numbers, put up tents, tables, chairs, finishing gantry and then spent hours handing out drinks, giving encouragement and so on. But out of all of them particularly Sharon, with her lovely smile making the pain of each lap melt away instantaneously.
Alex, Alistair and Tim, top 10 runners who all had time to shout out some encouragement while lapping me like I was standing still.
All the other runners who did the same, at a slightly slower pace but still fast enough to lap me at least once and still make a nice comment. Ray, Brian, Charlotte, Susan, Ger, Dave, ... Good to see you, I wish I could have joined you rather than see you pass by.
Gary and Ollie, great pacers, top job.
Anne, while I had hoped not to see her at all out on the course, but thanks a mill for handing me that bottle full of coke when she saw I was struggling. It didn't help, but you know, I very much appreciate the kindness.
And so on. If I didn't mention you, I apologise. I just realised there are way more people involved than even I thought.
Any muscles that are not my calves felt perfectly fine afterwards. Well, maybe the hamstrings were a bit heavier than normal the next day, but otherwise there was just nothing.
My calves, however, were really sore, even 5 days after the race they were still not right. I can't remember ever having such a long time with acutely sore muscles. to be honest, it kind of puts me off running - it's the thing about the weakest link in the chain again; if the weakest link is so much weaker than the rest, that sucks. Maybe some specific strength training might help, though I am a bit skeptical about that one.
I'll see. I'm signed up for some more races already, so I'm sure I'll do them as well. It wouldn't be me to just throw in the towel.
Sunday, February 16, 2020
Sunday, February 09, 2020
This Used To Be So Much Easier
I was a tad nervous going into this year's Donadea, knowing full well that a tough day was ahead of me. I basically stopped training about 5 weeks ago when I realised that it was only getting me tired and hurting and I was getting slower and slower, so I decided there was no point to it and maybe even potentially damaging to my long term health.
However, I'm still as stubborn as ever and since I was already signed up, and places are hard to come by and the transfer window had long closed, there was never any question of not taking up my place rather than waste it.
It was my fifth time at that race. Going into it I had two sequences going: 1) I had finished slower and slower with each attempt and 2) I had always finished under 4 hours. There was not an ounce of doubt that sequence one would be kept going and sequence two was going to not just fall but be blown to smithereens.
I chose what I felt was the conservative option and started with the 4:30 pacers, which in fact brought some comments from fellow runners what I was doing back here, but I know my glory days are gone. As was perfectly predictable, it was very, very, very comfortable at the start, so easy that I almost felt strained - to keep running so slowly, that is. We chatted away, Gary and Ollie doing a great job as pacers, but I found running in a tightly packed group a bit uncomfortable, you just can't stride out properly when you're packed tightly on a fairly narrow path, so when after about 2 or 3 lap I got slightly ahead of the group at the start/finish area, I kept going just a tiny bit faster than the guys. It was never my goal to run away from them and chase a glory time - I merely found it easier to run just ahead of the group, nice chaps as they are. There were still plenty of friendly faces around and I chatted for quite some time to Barry, who was in a similar position to me: once a good runner but a bit burned out now, but still enjoying a day like today. In my case, as I told him, it was basically running a race too far - except that it clearly had been more than just one race.
Anyway, I felt very comfortable at that pace until 30k, which I had always felt was the minimum distance that I had to run comfortably in order to still be guaranteed to finish under the 5 hours cut off even if things were to fall apart completely. Not that I had ever been worried about missing a cut off, not in any race in the past, and not today either. But things did indeed start to fall apart here. At the very first climb, inside the first k of loop 7, both of my calves started to spasm, the first sign of a cramp.
Cramp. The bane of my running life. Cramping calves have destroyed many a good race of mine. I have cramped in about half of my races, and I never managed to figure out what exactly is causing it, though there was always a strong correlation to not being in top shape, which is why those cramps did not come as much of a surprise - today was always a question of when I was going to cramp, not if.
On the plus side, countless of miles on cramping legs have given me plenty of opportunity to learn how to nurse my legs along. The first, and by far the most important thing, was to slow down. There was no point in trying any heroics. I had to slow down or else those cramps were going to stop me in my tracks. So I slowed from 26/27 minutes per lap to 30 minutes, which got me through the next 2 laps and a bit. I had spasms shooting through my legs throughout but never a full cramp, and could keep going reasonably well. The 4:30 group passed by very quickly, and Gary asked if I wanted to hop along but I knew my legs would explode straight away if I tried, and therefore declined. (He also made some joke about me once being a superstar and now ... ah well)
That strategy got me to 41 km, almost the marathon point. And even though I thought I had a handle on things, at that point my legs just started to cramp really violently, and boy did that hurt! I had no choice but to walk off the cramps whenever they struck (basically on every incline, and on plenty of flat bits as well) and very, very carefully re-start running whenever I felt I was going to be able to, with plenty of very painful restarts along the way.
It wasn't the best fun I've ever had, though there was a funny moment towards the end of lap 9 when I passed by the loudspeaker belting out "encouragement", or at least Anto's version of it, and it said "Hey, I said no compression socks", which was funny with me waddling by in my gorgeous new bright pink patterned compression socks, purchased solely for this very race (btw, they were utterly useless as far as compression was concerned, I wore them purely for show. Considering my cramps, maybe I should have worn proper socks instead, it may or may not have made a difference)
The last 2 laps went by at snails pace, 34 and 33 minutes each, and looking at the results I would have finished a whopping 50 places ahead had I kept running at my earlier pace. Energy-wise I was perfectly fine, I wasn't even particularly tired, from that point of view I could have gone further and faster, but it was clearly a case of the chain only being as strong as its weakest link, and the weakest link turned out to be very weak indeed.
In fact, by the time I had finished 8 laps I was already past by personal best (!) and by the time I finished lap 9 I was already significantly past my up-to-now personal worst (!!!). Jesus!
Anyway, I eventually managed to drag my sorry arse over the line in 4:47:17, much slower than even my very modest expectation had been, but at least finish I did, and there's yet another t-shirt in my collection. Not sure how many more there will be, to be honest. This running crack isn't quite what it used to be.
Having said that, if you're not a burned out has-been, do yourself a massive favour and sign up for next year. It is such a super event! The vibe at that place is just brilliant and you will have the time of your life!
However, I'm still as stubborn as ever and since I was already signed up, and places are hard to come by and the transfer window had long closed, there was never any question of not taking up my place rather than waste it.
It was my fifth time at that race. Going into it I had two sequences going: 1) I had finished slower and slower with each attempt and 2) I had always finished under 4 hours. There was not an ounce of doubt that sequence one would be kept going and sequence two was going to not just fall but be blown to smithereens.
I chose what I felt was the conservative option and started with the 4:30 pacers, which in fact brought some comments from fellow runners what I was doing back here, but I know my glory days are gone. As was perfectly predictable, it was very, very, very comfortable at the start, so easy that I almost felt strained - to keep running so slowly, that is. We chatted away, Gary and Ollie doing a great job as pacers, but I found running in a tightly packed group a bit uncomfortable, you just can't stride out properly when you're packed tightly on a fairly narrow path, so when after about 2 or 3 lap I got slightly ahead of the group at the start/finish area, I kept going just a tiny bit faster than the guys. It was never my goal to run away from them and chase a glory time - I merely found it easier to run just ahead of the group, nice chaps as they are. There were still plenty of friendly faces around and I chatted for quite some time to Barry, who was in a similar position to me: once a good runner but a bit burned out now, but still enjoying a day like today. In my case, as I told him, it was basically running a race too far - except that it clearly had been more than just one race.
Anyway, I felt very comfortable at that pace until 30k, which I had always felt was the minimum distance that I had to run comfortably in order to still be guaranteed to finish under the 5 hours cut off even if things were to fall apart completely. Not that I had ever been worried about missing a cut off, not in any race in the past, and not today either. But things did indeed start to fall apart here. At the very first climb, inside the first k of loop 7, both of my calves started to spasm, the first sign of a cramp.
Cramp. The bane of my running life. Cramping calves have destroyed many a good race of mine. I have cramped in about half of my races, and I never managed to figure out what exactly is causing it, though there was always a strong correlation to not being in top shape, which is why those cramps did not come as much of a surprise - today was always a question of when I was going to cramp, not if.
On the plus side, countless of miles on cramping legs have given me plenty of opportunity to learn how to nurse my legs along. The first, and by far the most important thing, was to slow down. There was no point in trying any heroics. I had to slow down or else those cramps were going to stop me in my tracks. So I slowed from 26/27 minutes per lap to 30 minutes, which got me through the next 2 laps and a bit. I had spasms shooting through my legs throughout but never a full cramp, and could keep going reasonably well. The 4:30 group passed by very quickly, and Gary asked if I wanted to hop along but I knew my legs would explode straight away if I tried, and therefore declined. (He also made some joke about me once being a superstar and now ... ah well)
That strategy got me to 41 km, almost the marathon point. And even though I thought I had a handle on things, at that point my legs just started to cramp really violently, and boy did that hurt! I had no choice but to walk off the cramps whenever they struck (basically on every incline, and on plenty of flat bits as well) and very, very carefully re-start running whenever I felt I was going to be able to, with plenty of very painful restarts along the way.
It wasn't the best fun I've ever had, though there was a funny moment towards the end of lap 9 when I passed by the loudspeaker belting out "encouragement", or at least Anto's version of it, and it said "Hey, I said no compression socks", which was funny with me waddling by in my gorgeous new bright pink patterned compression socks, purchased solely for this very race (btw, they were utterly useless as far as compression was concerned, I wore them purely for show. Considering my cramps, maybe I should have worn proper socks instead, it may or may not have made a difference)
The last 2 laps went by at snails pace, 34 and 33 minutes each, and looking at the results I would have finished a whopping 50 places ahead had I kept running at my earlier pace. Energy-wise I was perfectly fine, I wasn't even particularly tired, from that point of view I could have gone further and faster, but it was clearly a case of the chain only being as strong as its weakest link, and the weakest link turned out to be very weak indeed.
In fact, by the time I had finished 8 laps I was already past by personal best (!) and by the time I finished lap 9 I was already significantly past my up-to-now personal worst (!!!). Jesus!
Anyway, I eventually managed to drag my sorry arse over the line in 4:47:17, much slower than even my very modest expectation had been, but at least finish I did, and there's yet another t-shirt in my collection. Not sure how many more there will be, to be honest. This running crack isn't quite what it used to be.
Having said that, if you're not a burned out has-been, do yourself a massive favour and sign up for next year. It is such a super event! The vibe at that place is just brilliant and you will have the time of your life!
 |
| Photos by Anto Lee |
- 8 Feb 2020
- Donadea 50k, 4:47:17, 143rd place, 13th M50
Monday, February 03, 2020
M50
The glory years lasted about 5, 6 years, and then the decline became too obvious to deny, and since then things have gotten worse rather quickly.
I don't mean to whine or complain, getting older is part of it all and overall I am very happy how things have gone for the last 30 years, and anyway, my running had reached highs I had never even dared to dream about, so what's there to complain about?
However, I was a lot less excited about turning 50. I guess I've reached the stage that most people seem to hit at 30, when the new digit at the front of your age suddenly has become alarmingly high. Ah well. Time to face the fact that I might have started the middle third of my life.
And I've got to run 50k on Saturday. Oh f... But the fact that the distance matches my age is just coincidence. It's my 5th time doing that race.
However, I was a lot less excited about turning 50. I guess I've reached the stage that most people seem to hit at 30, when the new digit at the front of your age suddenly has become alarmingly high. Ah well. Time to face the fact that I might have started the middle third of my life.
And I've got to run 50k on Saturday. Oh f... But the fact that the distance matches my age is just coincidence. It's my 5th time doing that race.
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