Another Rainy Day

Last night I was deliberating if I should do a 13-mile run on Friday and 9 miles on the weekend, or the other way round. As I’m planning to do my long runs during the marathon training on Fridays, I decided to get into that routine early on, and set my alarm for 5:35am. When I got up at that ungodly hour, it was raining and a storm was blowing. Rather than going back to bed like a sane person would have done, I got up, ate my cereal and got ready to go out. The first 3 miles were a brutal fight against the elements, then all of a sudden the rain stopped, the wind eased up gradually and running became a pleasure again. Of course, by that time I was soaked, and had to run the 10 following miles with soggy feet. Had I opted for 9 miles, I would have had a pleasant run in nice weather all the way. I guess that’s life.

My right calf didn’t feel right, it had some kind of numb pain (I can’t describe it any better), and even now, several hours later, it’s still not ok. Maybe running 13 miles on that wasn’t the cleverest thing I’ve ever done, but if I only went out when I feel 100%, I’d miss the majority of my workouts. Despite all that, the run went very well. When I checked the HRM at the end, the avg. heart rate was just 150. I don’t think I’ve ever run such a long run at a decent pace at such a low heart rate. I guess I’m still in good shape from all the training I did for Connemara. With some strenuous training yet to come, I hope to be in the form of my life by the time of the Dublin marathon.



I’ve scanned a few pictures from last week’s birthday party. Lola is the blond one in pink dress and necklace in the centre of one photo, Shea is the one blowing out the candles of the dinosaur cake. Cian can also be seen in that photo, he’s the one crying in the background (he very much enjoyed the rest of the party though). And the dinosaur cake went down a treat, especially with the boys.

4 May: 6 miles, 56:48, 9:28 pace
5 May: 13 miles, 1:50, 8:27 pace

It's Raining Again

After a week or two of sunshine the weather turned nasty on Tuesday. I was glad that I had gone out on Monday for my 5 miles recovery after the half, because Tuesday’s storm front didn’t look too inviting. It was still bad enough this morning when I got up, but after I had eaten my breakfast the wind stopped and the sun nearly started shining. Well, at least it stopped raining. I did 8 comfortable miles, the first 3 while wearing a wind jacket, which I ditched and continued in a t-shirt. Of course that meant that I got wet when the rain returned – I just can’t win. Apart from that, I felt fine. My quads were a bit sore yesterday from the downhill sections in Sunday’s race, but have pretty much recovered by now.

On a side note, I need to learn to count again. It is 26 weeks until Dublin, not 25, and I’ve got one extra week to increase my mileage before the training starts. I’ll do about 40 this week, 45 next, and the first week of the marathon training will be 50 miles. Perfect! I decided to go against Mike’s advice to do the 18 weeks training plan, mainly because the increase in mileage from 50 to 70 is much more gradual in the 24 weeks plan, and I definitely prefer to approach that level slowly. I guess I’ll find out it that was a good idea or not.

1 May: 5 miles, 45:49, 9:09 pace
3 May: 8 miles, 1:07, 8:22 pace

Whiskey In the Jar

I was going over
The Cork and Kerry mountains
When I saw Captain Farrell
His money he was counting

Well, actually I didn’t see the Captain, but I certainly went over the Cork and Kerry mountains, both by car and on foot. Last night I had set the alarm for 6am, but changed my mind in the middle of the night and re-set it for 5:45. That turned out to be a good move. Today wasn’t just the day of the half-marathon in Bantry, but also the “Rally Of the Lakes” in Killarney, which a serious number of people are following. As a result, the road I was intending to take was blocked and I had to re-route, which took me longer than planned (but was also very scenic over said mountains). My route also happened to take me from Glengarriff to Bantry, which is where the race would be run on. Thus I knew what was coming, especially the climb out of Glengarriff itself. The web site had mentioned something of a 1-mile climb, but I could see that that was barefaced lie – it was basically 2 miles (ok, 1.9 miles when I measured it again on the way back). I finally got to Bantry with less than 5 minutes to spare to get the bus to the start.

This was my first ever half-marathon (which is weird for someone who already has 4 marathons under his belt, I know), and I wasn’t sure how to pace myself. I had plenty of warnings from Mike and Liam not to start too fast. The plan was to start at 8:00 pace until about mile 5 (which is the highest point of the course) and then gradually accelerate and attempt to hold on to the higher pace until the finish. From the start, a lot of people overtake me, but I stick to my plan (and, in my mind, say to everyone who’s going past me, I’ll see you again soon enough). I miss the first mile marker, but at mile 2 my time is 16:00. How’s that for pacing? Mile 3 is 24:03, mile 4 32:10 (that is well into the climb out of Glengarriff). Somewhere between mile 4 and 5, on that long climb, I start overtaking people. Mile 5 passes in 41:58, which I don’t believe, cause there is no way that mile took nearly 10 minutes. Mile 6 is around 48:20, which confirms to me that the mile 5 marker was a bit off. By the way, my HRM doesn’t measure laps, so I’m quoting those times from memory. By now I’ve moved up the pace by a good bit, and I’m reeling in other runners for fun. My only worry is my HRM which keeps saying my heart rate is somewhere between 173 and 178, which seems too high to keep going until the finish, but I feel good and decide to keep going. I pass mile 8 at 1:03, mile 9 at 1:10 (no seconds on the timer from here on) and mile 10 and 1:18. I forgot the later splits, but basically each mile takes somewhere between 7 and 8 minutes. The course is never flat, after the big hill outside Glengarriff it’s rolling hills all the way to Bantry. Once or twice I start feeling worse, but concentrate on keeping my place and keep in touch with the runner ahead of me. After a minute or two I feel better again, and the overtaking starts again. At mile 11 I get a stitch – now there’s a rare thing. I slow down a little bit and concentrate on my breathing, and that problem passes too. At mile 12 someone pushed past me. I can’t quite keep up with the guy, but I decide to hitch a ride anyway, and keep him in my sights. We overtake a few more runners, and at mile 12.5 I put the hammer down and decide to treat it like a half-mile interval. I re-overtake the guy and storm towards the finish. There’s one more funny turn. There’s a guy with a microphone at the finishing line and he says things like number 326, that’s Mike Murphy, give him a good applause. Well, when I come along, he starts “number 266, that’s Thomas (long pause) erm .. (longer pause) WELL DONE THOMAS”. He’s not the first to have problems pronouncing my surname, which I owe to my Austrian-Czech ancestry, and he won’t be the last one.

Anyway, I basically sprint all the way to the finish and cross the line in 1:41:10. My aim had been 1:40, so I missed that, but I’m pleased all the same. On a flat course the same effort would probably have delivered 1:40 or even better. I also didn’t really train for this. The last 5 weeks were marked by my recovery from the Connemara marathon, and my only concession to today were two resting days before the race. I still felt very strong at the end, which might mean that I could have run a bit more aggressively, but then again my average heart rate was 175, which would be 93% of my max. Is that even possible? Maybe I should leave the HRM at home next time, but then again, it’s also my stopwatch, and I definitely prefer to know how far into the race I am. Today I never ran by heart rate, only by feel, and that went very well. It was definitely fun the catch runner after runner from mile 4.5 onwards, and it reminded me of Connemara in that respect.

The drive home was delayed by the bloody Rally again, and it took well over 2 hours to get home. I feel stiff as a plank by the time I’m home, and I know I will be feeling sore from all the downhill stretches tomorrow and on Tuesday. And if I counted correctly, it’s only 25 weeks to Dublin – the training for that is almost upon me.

30 Apr: 13.1 miles race, 1:41:10, 7:43 pace

Happy Birthday Lola and Shea!

Today is the twins’ fifth birthday, and they got very excited (again) about presents. Five years ago Niamh and me agreed resolutely not to gender-stereotype them, ever. But, five years later, all our intentions are in tatters. They are old enough to know what they want, and the presents reflect that. Shea got some Dinosaurs (and a volcano!) and a dinosaur story with him as the main character. Lola got a princess bed and a story of a ballerina, with her as the main character. Can you get any more stereotypical? Oh Dear!

The running is going very well indeed. I did a slow recovery run yesterday, and another 9 miles today, with a few strides thrown in for good measure. I felt great all the way. Getting up at 6:10 am is much easier now than it was during the winter, because it’s already very bright. One thing I must be much more disciplined about is going to bed early. I didn’t get enough sleep when training for Connemara, and when I'm training for Dublin I must plan for the fact that Shea usually wakes at 6 and I’m unlikely to sleep for another minute after that.

The weather is absolutely gorgeous at the moment. Niamh took all the children for a pick nick in the Killarney National Park, while I had to waste my time in the office. Life just isn’t fair!

26 Apr: 6 miles, 57:13, 9:32 pace
27 Apr: 9 miles, 1:13, 8:06 pace

Getting Faster

I’ve got 5 days before the half, and decided to have one more tempo run. I know it won’t have any benefits for the actual race, but I needed a psychological boost more than a physical one. I have gotten faster every week since the marathon, and over the weekend was quite surprised at how much I had improved in only one week. 10 days ago running at 8:00 pace was basically impossible, and on Saturday I managed it without even trying. I must be in better shape than I thought I was.

I won’t be tapering for the half (it’s only a half, after all), but I will take two days off before the run. Today was the last fast run; I did a 2 miles warm-up, then 4 miles at LT tempo (which in my case means a HR of around 170) and 2 miles cool-down. The pace for the speedy part turned out to be 7:05, which is 10 seconds faster per mile than a similar run in the middle of my marathon training a few months ago.

Cian has caused more drama in the meantime. On both Saturday and Sunday I had to mind all 3 children on my own for a few hours. At one stage I spent maybe 5 minutes with the twins, and then started looking for Cian. I found him in the kitchen, just about to raid the cupboard (again!). I pried him away and turned around only to see big black smoke coming out of the toaster. As I turned it off, big flames started to come out of it. Cian was as excited as I was shocked. Once the flames had died down, I found some crepe paper lying around. He must have stuffed some of it into the toaster and turned it on. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened! I feel guilty about it, but don’t really know what I should have done better. I can’t be in more than one place at the same time.

On several less serious occasions, he has raided the kitchen cabinet. After two years of relentless trying, he managed to break the childproof lock, and I haven’t got round to replacing it yet. On one occasion he left a trail of weetabix behind him (at least it meant he was easy to find), and twice he snatched a full packet of porridge and poured it, well, all over the place. There was so much porridge on the floor that he thought he was on the beach!

Oh, and the twins had their 5th birthday party today. The birthday is not until Thursday, but for logistical reasons the party was today. I arrived home at lunchtime to find a massive bouncy castle in the garden. It was nearly as high as the house itself! They had invited 33 kids (33!!!!), and 31 turned up. It was like an invasion. To my immense surprise, the house is still standing, nothing was broken, and every single one seemed to have had a very good time. They got so many presents that they still haven’t opened all of them. Oh wouldn’t it be nice to be so young and excitable again?

25 Apr: 8 miles, 1:03, 7:52 pace (with 4 miles at 7:05 pace)

Stupid!

I did three really stupid things over the last three days.

Stupid thing number one, I set the alarm clock to go off at 6:15 on Friday morning for my 8 mile run, but forgot to actually turn it on. I even awoke at 6:25 but didn’t click, and by the time I realised what had happened it was too late to go out and run. Since Saturday is normally a rest day for me I decided to swap those two days around. It’s a slight violation of the hard-easy principle because I also planned 11 miles for Sunday, but 8 and 11 miles aren’t that hard.

Stupid thing number two was the pace for Saturday’s run. If it was the joy of having our car back (and functioning) or if it was exuberance more befitting a man half my age, I don’t know. What I do know is that running at sub-8 pace isn’t a normal run for me. It wasn’t quite a tempo run; that would have been more like 7:15 pace for a few miles. Instead I kept my pace very steady for the whole distance, and while the run went very well, I was quite tired afterwards, and felt a twinge in my left hamstring for the rest of the day. To compound my tiredness I also worked for well over three hours in the garden, trying to get rid of some more gorse, which resulted in my arms looking like I'd had a fight with a wild cat.

Stupid thing number three was the fact that I ran 11 miles on Sunday in full sunshine without any access to water. I drank plenty of water before the run, but started to feel thirsty after only three or so miles. I thought about turning around, having a drink at home and going for a second loop, but decided against it. It had taken me 15 minutes or so to say bye to the children, especially Lola who, overdramatically, begged me not to go, and I didn’t fancy a repeat performance. So I plodded on. I actually felt a little bit better on the way back, because a bit of a breeze helped me to stay cool. It’s not often that I welcome a head wind, but that was one of those occasions. I made it home in good time, but I really have to be more careful in future, dehydration isn’t something I should take lightly.

So there you have it, my list of errors laid bare. Will I learn from it? Maybe.

Cian has caused more havoc in the meantime, but this blog entry is already long enough.

22 Apr: 8 miles, 1:02, 7:45 pace
23 Apr: 11 miles, 1:30, 8:10 pace

Nearly Stranded

We had a bit of drama in Dublin. On Tuesday afternoon, the day before we were meant to drive all the way across Ireland back to Kerry, Niamh rang me to tell me that the car had broken down. Luckily it was just half a mile from the house, so I ran down to help her. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and we ended up calling the AA (as in Automobile Association, not Alcoholics Anonymous). The guy arrived an hour later, and, after on hour of a lot of head scratching, figured the fuel pump was broken. There was nothing he could do about it there, and he towed us all the way to AA headquarters. From there the car will be brought to a garage in Tralee for repairs (which will hopefully be done by Friday). We got a rental car, and drove back to Kerry yesterday. Niamh had to give it back today, and, please God, we will have our full complement of cars (two) back by tomorrow. Our cover plan with the AA meant that the whole episode didn’t cost us anything, apart from 14 Euros to upgrade the rental car. When the plan had been up for renewal in February, I discussed with Niamh if it was worth it, and she decided yes. Good Call!

Oh, this is supposed to be a running blog. Liam asked where I did my running in Dublin, so I used the magic of Google Pedometers to whip up a map of the 7 miles route I did on Wednesday. According to the computer, it was a bit less than 7.2 miles, so I guess my estimations weren’t too far off. Said run was a tempo run, which I did a tad too fast, because on one or two occasions my heart rate crept into the high 170s, which is too high for an aerobic workout. I have to be more careful about this in future. I have to say I'm quite jealous of you City dwellers, as that bit of software is utterly useless if you live and run in Kerry. Today I just did a 5-mile recovery run to shake off my usual stiffness after several hours in the car. It went well, and it was great to be back in my familiar woods.

I’ll do an 11-miler on Sunday, to get me used to longer distances again. The half in Bantry bay is just a week after that and I won’t be in top shape, but I knew that when I signed up for it.

Apr 20: 7.1795306 miles, 57:44, 8:02 pace
Apr 21: 5 miles, 46:33, 9:18 pace

Easter Bunny has left the Building

My, how time flies. It’s already our last day in Dublin, and tomorrow we‘ll be heading back to Kerry. Cian’s antics have subsided somewhat, he’s just raided mummy’s make-up kit (which is a particularly favourite way of his of causing havoc), but got stopped before he managed to transfer the stuff anywhere but his fingers. Maybe the fact that he has stuffed himself with chocolate for three days has reigned him in a bit.

We don’t have weighing scales at home in Kerry, so Friday was the first time I’ve stood on one since January and was quite surprised (and pleased) to see that I have lost 4kg (nearly 9 pounds) in the meantime. Unfortunately, I’ve put at least one kg back on since, thanks to all that chocolate lying around. I don’t really have a sweet tooth, but if I’m tempted 24 hours a day, I do succumb.

I rested on Monday, apart from running after Cian that is, and did 45 minutes today. Initially I felt like crap and was afraid I was coming down with yet another bout of sickness, but after a mile or two I settled down and had a decent enough run. I’m still coughing from the last bug I caught, and so is the whole rest of the family. It seems to be a particularly slow bug to shift, but apart from a cough and a few runny noses, it doesn’t bother us.

19 Apr: 45 min, 5 miles (est.)

In Defence of the Parents

God, you guys are a critical lot. We don’t usually leave eggs in reach of a 2-year old, but Niamh was just about to use them to make French Toast, got distracted, and by the time she came back, Cian had done the deed. It didn’t get much better afterwards, while I was writing my last entry, he managed to get hold of the jam jar and helped himself to second breakfast, minus the bread of course, but leaving a sticky trail.

We’re now in Dublin in Nana’s and Gaga’s house, which is less childproof than our own. In the one-and-a-half days since we’ve been here he’s raided the mushrooms (and was just about to tuck into the broccoli by the time I arrived to stop him), spilt washing powder all over the kitchen floor, picked some of Nana’s daffodils and been in several fights with the cat. At that rate we might be asked to leave soon ;-).

I bought some badly needed new runners yesterday, but as I don’t know any running shops around here, I had to go to one of the big-chain stores, where they display their shoes on one wall, with a big sign “display models only, don’t try them on” without anyone to assist you. When I finally managed to hunt down a shop assistant, he of course didn’t have a clue about shoes, but was finally persuaded to bring me a couple of pairs to try on. I eventually left as the proud new owner of a pair of Asics GT-1110. I’ve tried to the 2100 before and didn’t like them, but I decided to give them another chance, seeing as so many runners really seem to like that brand (I was also desperate to get out of that shop). I took them for a spin today. The plan was 9 miles, and I felt really good until mile 4.5. When I turned around I realised why running had felt so easy, because all of a sudden I was running into the wind. Oh well. It still went really well, actually. The last two miles are over a fairly big hill, and I just seemed to fly up one way, and down again the other side. Add to that the over five miles I did yesterday (my distances in Dublin are just estimates, but I reckon they are reasonably accurate), and I’m on 31 miles for the week.

15 Apr: 45 mins, 5 miles (est.)
16 Apr: 1:15, 9 miles (est.)

Improving

That’s the third time I’ve been sick in the last 4 weeks, and I very much hope I’m done with all the retched sickness stuff by now. I’m definitely improving, I’ve still got a cough, but my nose isn’t as blocked as it was yesterday, and the headache is much improved as well. The weather has improved as well today, which is nice as we will be sitting in the car for several hours on our way to Dublin. It’s the first time we’ll take the seven-seater for such a long drive, and it should be much more comfortable than the old hatchback where the five of us were very much cramped together like sardines and the kids got worse and worse by each mile.

The family is finding more and new ways to keep me from running. My mother-in-law just doesn’t get running. She constantly worries about me running too far (“7 miles? You can’t possibly run 7 miles in one go!”) and once told Niamh that she had to insist that I take frequent breaks while out running (“No, mum, I don’t think he will”). Cian, on the other hand just causes chaos wherever he goes. He left a trail of cereal all over the house while I was out, and just managed to get his hands on half a dozen eggs, which he one by one smashed against his tricycle. Oh the mess!

On the plus side, I played reasonably well in yesterday’s match (though we still lost 2:1) and while everyone around me was panting and coughing, I was hardly sweating at the end, and it wasn’t for lack of effort. I wish I had got more than 25 minutes though. Today’s run was fine, except for the masses of gnats that seem to have appeared all of a sudden. Horrible creatures. It’s bad enough when you can feel them bumping against your skin, but on two occasions one flew right into my mouth. Disgusting! The run was fine, it was the first time since the marathon that I tried to speed up a little; it went quite well, though I couldn’t have pushed much harder. It’s amazing how quickly your peak form disappears into thin air.

14 Apr: 7 miles: 57:41, 8:14 pace

Recovering?

I don’t feel it, but I guess I must be getting better. I can’t really tell, my nose is blocked up and I’ve got a slight headache from feeling stuffy all day, but I ran the exact same course as yesterday with the exact same average heart rate, but nearly 2 minutes faster. It would have been better to run it slightly slower than that, but I find it difficult to estimate the effort when I’m not entirely healthy. I estimated that I should feel a bit worse than usual to take the cold into account, and then ever so slightly misjudged the effort I should do. Never mind, I’m sure there’s no harm done.

I’ll rest tomorrow. Maybe the cough medicine will let me sleep until 7:45, but Shea usually puts a stop to that. There is an annual football game organised by the company on Thursday, where my lack of skills as a fullback will be on display. Unfortunately I expect we’ll get our collective arses kicked. On Friday we’ll go to Dublin and spend a few days there, which makes running awkward because I’m off my familiar routes and always find it difficult to judge the distance covered. I guess I’ll have to run by time. On the plus side, Stillorgan is surprisingly hilly, and offers roughly the same type of terrain as my normal haunts alongside Caragh Lake.

12 Apr: 5 miles, 45:56, 9:11 pace

Sick as a Parrot

Would you believe it, I’m getting sick yet again. I thought I had just about managed to avoid the bug that grounded Niamh for several days, only to discover that I managed to snap up something else. I felt a bit low on energy yesterday, but decided to play an hour of football in the evening anyway. I felt like crap after a few minutes, but improved as time went on. Then I did a 5-mile run this morning, and experienced the same again. I felt really bad at the beginning, but gradually managed to get into it. The run as such went ok, though the heart rate was too high to call it a recovery run, but I put that down to being sick. I’ve also got a bad cough that kept me awake until 3am in the morning. That’s when I took some cough medicine and slept like a baby until 6, when Shea woke me up. I took some more medicine before going to work, and had a hard time trying not to fall asleep at my desk – the medicine made me drowsy (not getting enough sleep hardly helped).
Will I run again tomorrow? I’ll decide in the morning. I haven’t got a temperature, and I’m sure a short run won’t have any bad effects on me.

We had an office sweepstake for the Grand National (that’s a big horse race), 40 people put 2 Euros each into the kitty and blindly pulled the name of a horse out of a hat, winner takes it all. I never bet on horses, but felt compelled to take part as part of the office fun. And wouldn’t you believe it, my horse only bloody won, and I’m 80 Euros to the good. That should get me a new pair of runners, all right. One problem less.

11 Apr: 5 miles, 47:40, 9:32 pace

A bit sore

Yesterday was a day of cross training of some kind: several hors of working in the garden. After digging and pulling gorse as well as strimming rushes for nearly 4 hours, I was more tired that after a 20 miler. Let’s call it upper body strengthening, because my shoulders and arms are quite sore today.

So, when I went out for my 7 mile run this morning, I just couldn’t get relaxed. This might seem strange to a non-runner, but due to my sore shoulders I could not get into a relaxed stride. After one mile I decided to abandon any ideas of calling this stumble a recovery run and ran a bit faster. The main problem with running recovery run after recovery run is that they start to get really boring after a while. I really felt like speeding up, and when today’s loss of a relaxed form offered an excuse, I jumped on the chance to get in a “real” run. It probably wasn’t the best thing to do from a recovery point of view, but I’m glad I did it, because I really enjoyed today’s run. I didn’t get carried away and still kept my pace in check; it was just a bit faster than all the previous runs since the marathon.

I’ve got three weeks until the half, and I’m a bit unsure on what’s the best way to proceed from here. I need to increase my mileage, but should also try to get in one or two tempo runs to sharpen up a bit. I’ve no real idea on what’s the best way to do this without jeopardising my recovery. My guess is I might do about 30 miles next week, then maybe around 35 the following one, and 40, including the half, after that. I could also try to do a tempo run a week before the half. I don’t know if that’s sensible, I’ll adapt it if I feel a problem along the way.

I also need to buy a new pairs of shoes. If only I wasn’t broke already.

9 Apr: 7 miles, 1:01, 8:42 pace

Recovered

So far, I have indeed managed to avoid the bug that’s doing the rounds in the house. Lola recovered very quickly, Niamh didn’t. She’s better now, most of the aches are gone, but she’s still got a very sore throat, and went to see the doctor today.

I had a sore throat Wednesday night (or Wednesnight, as Lola calls it), which looked like an ominous sign, but was absolutely fine the next day. Knock on wood, and it shall pass.

I did a very slow recovery run today. I can’t remember the last time I ran slower than 10:00 pace, but I consciously slowed down every time the heart rate went over 145, to make sure it’s a real recovery run. The right calf is much better now. There might have been a tiny twinge, or maybe I was just imagining it, but I’m calling myself recovered now. I’ll still do another few recovery runs before I’ll speed up again. I’ll see what mileage I can safely do, after Sunday’s run it will be 20 miles for this week, and I’m planning around 30 for next week. It’s only three weeks to the half marathon, but I won’t do any training especially for that. I won’t be at my peak, but hey, it’s only a half.

There is an article on Running Times about the 3-country marathon I ran last October. It’s a nice enough read, but it painfully reminded me of how I had to decline the Free Beer at the finishing line, because I had to drive 40 miles after the marathon. Sigh.

7 Apr: 5 miles, 51:05, 10:13 pace

Still Recovering

I went out for two easy runs yesterday and today, and managed to keep the pace down this time. The difference to Sunday was amazing; most of the tightness is gone, apart from my right calf muscle, which is still acting up. I’m taking it very easy; tonight is Yoga, tomorrow I’ll sleep in (yeah, right), and I’ll do two more recovery runs on Friday and Sunday.

The weather is beautiful, sunshine and no wind, but it is still deceptively cold in the morning. This caught me out yesterday, I thought it would be much warmer and went out without gloves, but the temperatures were about 0C/32F, and my fingers nearly froze off. I learned my lession today, and felt much more snug in my trusty old gloves.

The one thing worrying me at them moment is a cold that’s doing the rounds. Lola and Niamh are both sick, with Niamh looking especially bad. I had to drive the boys to school/crèche in the morning because Niamh is bed-bound, resulting in me being half an hour late for work. Don’t worry, they are very understanding here. I just hope I’ll manage to avoid that particular bug.

4 Apr: 4 miles, 39:19, 9:49 pace
5 Apr: 5 miles, 48:18, 9:39 pace

On the Road Again

After a full week of idleness, I finally ventured out on the road again on Sunday. It was funny, on Friday Niamh said “You haven’t been running all week, have you? That’s good.” On Saturday evening she said “I think you should go running again.” On Sunday morning, as I went into the kitchen and was just about to tell her that I was going running, she said before I could utter a word “How long are you running for?”. That woman can read me like a book.

Anyway, I had planned a five mile recovery run, but the calves felt very tight and stiff, so I decided to cut it short by a mile, and only did 4. I also thought that I ran nice, easy and very relaxed, but when I got back home I realised that I had run at sub 9:00 pace – too fast for a recovery run, especially after a marathon. I’ll do more recovery runs on Tuesday and Wednesday. After all the rain, wind and misery, all of a sudden the weather is absolutely gorgeous and far too inviting to stay in bed. As Shea keeps waking me at 5am every night, I can’t sleep in anyway. I’ll try to slow down though. I really need to be more disciplined when it comes to recovery pace, especially when I try to up my mileage to new levels.

After taking all the comments from my last entry into account, I’ve decided to follow the Pfitzinger 70 mpw plan. At least I'll try, and only once I feel fully recovered. Following the other Mike’s advice, I’m seriously considering raising the mileage very slowly and doing the 18 weeks schedule rather than the 24 weeks one, though I’m not sure if I should really listen to the advice of a man who publicly displays those kind of shorts! I’ll slowly up my mileage over the next few weeks, and according to how that feels, I will settle on a plan.

I’ve also signed up for a half marathon in 4 week’s time. The timing is rather unfortunate, just 5 weeks after the Connemara marathon and right at the start of a new training cycle, but it’s not far from home, and the scenery should be stunning – from Glengarriff to Bantry along Bantry Bay.


2 Apr: 4 easy miles, 35:52, 8:58 pace (too fast for a recovery run)

Pondering

I still haven’t been running since the marathon. I didn’t feel very well on Thursday. I don’t know if it was a setback of the fight against the cold I had before the race, or if it was something else, but I felt a distinctive lack of energy. I felt completely slack and devoid of energy, and feared I was going to be sick yet again. However, I felt better on Friday, and I’m absolutely fine today. The weather, though, isn’t. The wind is blowing very strongly, and between bouts of sunshine we have rain so heavy that you wouldn’t send your dog outside (but of course you would still train for a marathon if you had too).

My thoughts are turning to the Dublin marathon, despite the fact that it’s still a long time away – 30 October 2006, to be precise. If I counted correctly, there are 29 weeks to go, which I intend to use to prepare thoroughly. I just don’t know how yet. I have plenty of options, but two of them are very much in my mind. The first is Pfitzinger’s 24 weeks/70 miles plan. It starts with several weeks of around 50 mpw, and gradually increases to 70, a level that is reached on three separate weeks. I quite like that plan, especially as it increases the mileage gradually, and I’ve never run such high mileage before. The second option is a Lydiard style training. I don’t intend to do the full 100 mpw that Lydiard recommends, mainly because I’m convinced it would leave me injured. In his book, he describes some lesser training plans, one which goes like this: Monday 1hr, Tuesday 1.5 hrs, Wednesday 1 hr, Thursday 1.5 hrs, Friday 1 hr, Saturday 2-3 hrs, Sunday 1.5 hrs. That’s 10.5 to 11.5 hours per week, which would probably mean about 75 mpw, give or take a few. You know what? That sounds rather daunting, especially for someone who has never run more than 55 mpw. Actually, I once did around 65 miles in 7 days, because I did a long run late in one week, and then another long one earlier in the following week, leaving me with a higher mileage for 7 days, but that wasn’t planned.
The main drawback of the Lydiard method, at least from my point of view, is that it’s much more difficult to follow. When following Pfitz, I can just do the workouts he describes every week. I tend to juggle the work around every week (e.g. do the long run on Tuesday and the rest day on Saturday, rather then long Sunday/rest Monday), but I tend do to all the workouts within each 7 day schedule. Lydiard isn’t so clear, his method requires tuning into your body and adapting accordingly, and I don’t think I know my body that well yet, being the inexperienced runner that I still am. I’m sure Mike would disagree, but I think I prefer Pfitz this time round, even if it means not being quite as well prepared.

Or am I too ambitious, and should do less mileage? Is it foolish to increase my mileage to 70 mpw, when I only just about managed to stay reasonably injury free on 55 mpw max (and that still included tendonitis, muscle pain in my quads, in my hamstring, and some mild heel spurs – yes, I know, I have a warped view on being injury free).

So much to think about, so much to decide. What do you think?

Photos

I found some photos from my finish at Connemara. They’re not the most flattering photos ever, and I had no idea I was looking so knackered. I couldn’t find any pictures showing me during the race, so those two will in all likelihood have to do.

The time on display is slightly off, most likely due to the way they start the marathon not at a fixed time but after the top ultra guys pass the marathon start. Not that a few seconds matter, especially as it's nowhere near my PR anyway.

Recovery

It is a wonderful feeling when the pain starts to get bearable.

On Monday, I was in pain.
On Tuesday, I was able to get in and out of a chair without groaning audibly.
Today, Wednesday, I am still a little bit stiff, but well recovered.

So far I’ve kept my resolve and haven’t been running. The fact that we had gale force winds and lots of rain, helped. We’ll see how long I can resist the twitching, but I guess I’ll hold out a bit longer. The weather forecast is ok for Friday. Maybe the weekend will see me back on the road.

Tragic News

I’ve heard that one runner called Frank Haines, from London, died in Connemara on Sunday. He was only 31. He was running the half, and collapsed on top of the Hell, 11 miles in. The medical services were there immediately and tried to revive him, but their efforts were in vain. I’m shocked about those news, and of course they put a dampener on the positive recollections I had from the weekend. I can’t understand how a (presumably) healthy person can die after only 11 miles. My condolences go to his friends and family (who were in Connemara at the time).

A Cold Day in Hell

First of all, apologies for the insanely long report. I had a lot to say.

I trained a lot for this marathon, more than ever before, and with 10 days to go I was very optimistic I was going to do really well. Unfortunately, disaster struck in form of a cold that I most likely picked up from Shea. I was feeling rather low for several days, and kind of recovered by Thursday – just 3 days before the marathon.
We (that’s me, Niamh and the kids) drove up to Galway on Friday evening. The drive took much longer than expected (the roads are crap – and busy) and didn’t get to our B&B until 10 pm, and then had a hard time putting the kids to sleep. I tried to take it easy on Saturday, and it worked out ok, but taking it easy has a rather relative meaning when you’re looking after 3 children all under the age of 5.

I got up early on Sunday, got ready and left for the bus. The transfer to Maam Cross (the hub of the marathon) was smooth, but as soon as I got off there and was looking forward to some breakfast, an announcement came that everyone participating in the Full marathon had to proceed to the busses and take a bus to the starting line. There are 3 different races, an ultra-marathon of 39.3 miles that goes in a big loop, a full marathon, where you are dropped off 13.1 miles into the ultra course, and a half, obviously starting another 13.1 miles later. The start time for the marathon isn’t exact, the field leaves as soon as the top ultra guys have passed. The same goes for the half, the start for that is as soon as the elite marathoners pass that point.
Well, the leading ultra guy soon passes our way (running 6:10 per mile average!!!) and off we go. I had been rather cold at the start line, and was deliberating what to wear. Eventually I settle on shorts and a t-shirt with a wind/rain jacket on top.

Half a mile into the race I know that this was not my day. I still feel the effects of the cold, I feel a bit light-headed and rather unsteady on my feet. Any ideas of doing 8:20 miles immediately go out of the window and I run in what is closer to recovery pace, about 8:50 to begin with. I keep that going until the first water stop, about 3 miles in, where I think about bailing out. If this were a training day, I would definitely bail, but it isn’t and I decide to plod on. I get a shock when I look at my heart rate monitor. Despite running so slowly, my heart rate is all the way up at 175. I cannot possibly run a marathon like this and decide to abandon any idea of running the course and start walking until the heart rate is back around a more bearable 155 before running again. This keeps happening a few times over the first 10 miles. I think of Rob, and how he once said an ultra is always run in the mind. I’m not running an ultra but decide to follow the advice – just put your mind to it, ignore the time, just keep going until the end. The course is gradually making its way past Connemara National Park, of which we don’t see much because of the very low clouds. I feel very hot under my jacket and curse myself for not running in a t-shirt. The course steadily climbs uphill, and from mile 7 to 8 it’s a much steeper climb (well, not that steep). At mile 10 we suddenly descend rather abruptly into what is Ireland’s only fjord. I start to feel a bit better at that point, and manage to run several miles without stopping, I also start overtaking people from this point on – until mile 10 I felt like running at the very back of the pack (though looking back a few times I see plenty of people behind me).

We pass the half way mark in a village called Leenane (my time so far is about 2:05 – by far the slowest I’ve ever passed the half way mark), and the course immediately begins a rather brutal climb of about one mile and a half, gaining over 70 meters of elevation in the process. This is where my training comes in handy. While just about everyone around me is walking, I manage to run the entire climb. At one stage, about half way through the climb, a painful spasm shoots through my left hamstring. I just about manage to avoid a cramp, and continue running. I fact, I speed up a little, to use the muscles in a different way (Bob Glover recommends that in his book). The other problem is the wind. From here on, for all the 12 miles until the finish we are running into a rather strong head wind. There is no cover anywhere, and all we can do is battle against it. From the highest point then the course gradually falls a few meters over the next few miles, and then there are rolling hills until mile 22 – but more of that later. I feel much better at this point. It feels like I had to suffer the first 10 miles by running that cold out of my system. Once I reached a certain point, the proper running could finally begin. I constantly overtake other runners. It’s not that I’m speeding up – I just manage to keep my pace constant while everyone around me is slowing down. The only people overtaking me along that stretch are about 5 or 6 ultra runners – that’s 2 women and a few guys, all of whom are going to finish in the top 10. I’m feeling good at that stage; it is by far the best stretch of the course for me. I have a few short conversations with a few runners as I pass them. “How’s it going?” “This is the life, eh” (this one nearly makes me laugh). I get a few compliments on how relaxed I’m looking, while everyone else seems dead on their feet. I don’t feel overly relaxed – the quads and calves are gradually getting heavier and heavier, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I am doing really well until mile 22. If this were a normal marathon, I could try and match my time from Dublin 18 months ago, and make it my second best finish, but unfortunately, this is not a normal marathon. At mile 22, I reach the point everyone has been dreading all along. Welcome to the Hell of the West.

The Hell is a continuous climb of 1.8 miles. It is not particularly steep, and if it were at mile 1, everyone would say it’s tough but manageable. It’s not at mile 1 though. It’s after the 22-mile point. What makes it worse is that EVERYONE is walking it. I start running it, but looking up I hardly make any headway to the walkers in front of me. It’s soul-destroying work, and eventually, after what seems like running forever, I start walking too. I run/walk up the hill, still overtaking plenty of other people (that now also include the slow coaches from the half). After what seems an eternity, I finally reach the summit. It even provides a very nice view, though neither me nor anyone around me is in any way inclined to enjoy the moment – the climb took too much out of everyone. It’s also freezing cold. I estimate that on that Hell climb alone I lost about 7 minutes compared to what I would have run on a flat course. The next mile is downhill, but of course my quads are shot to bits at that stage and I can hardly pick up my knees – I don’t think I gain much time compared to what I would have done on the flat. Once we reach the valley it’s another mile of winding road towards the finish – it’s around the 25-mile marker that I get overtaken by the only two marathon runners since mile 10. Those guys have plenty of pace left – I wonder why they didn’t run faster on the first 25 miles. Never mind, I plod on and even have a little bit of a kick left in me for the last 0.2 miles after the 26 marker.

I reach the finishing line in 4:11:45. It’s nowhere near my personal best, and nowhere near what I know I can do, but on the day it was the best effort I could possibly do. I still had the effects of my illness in me, and it just wasn’t my day. But I know I am (relatively) strong. I ran the second half only two minutes slower than the first, despite the fact that it’s a much more demanding part of the course. I must have overtaken 100 people on the last 16 miles, and only got passed by 2 (plus the top ultra ones). I’m convinced that on a flat course I would have broken the 4-hour mark, despite the slow first 10 miles. I’m not disappointed, I feel rather pleased with the effort and the fact that I kept going despite feeling slightly ill. I always regarded this marathon not just as a race on its own, but as a further step in my development as a runner. If my HR monitor was correct, then my average heart rate was 167 – 88% of my max – that’s insane, and I don’t know if I can trust this reading. But even if it’s not correct, with the course and my after-effects, I rate this effort higher than the 3:55 I ran last October.

I’ll rest for at least one week – anyone who sees me on the road for the next 7 days had my permission to shoot me. I might even rest for another week after that. Then the preparations for Dublin 2006 start. No rest for the wicked, and Dublin doesn’t have the Hell.

Definitely Maybe

My self-imposed deadline of 72 hours before race start has expired, and am I feeling better and ready to run on Sunday? Err, probably. I’m definitely feeling better, the headache is gone, the coughing has mostly disappeared and the general feeling is much better. I did break my long period of non-activity last night to attend my usual Yoga class. We did a lot of standing asanas, and about half an hour into the class I started to feel dizzy, then the breathing when hay-wire, and when I started to see black spots in front of my eyes, I knew I was about 5 seconds away from fainting. I stopped whatever I was doing, drank a sip of water, calmed my breathing an immediately felt better. I was fine for the rest of the class.

Today I feel a distinct lack of energy, and I’m tired as hell, despite sleeping ok(ish) last night. Thanks a lot for all your well wishes and prayers, they are all gratefully received. We are definitely going to leave for Galway tomorrow, no matter if I feel ready for the marathon or not. I’ll take it easy on Saturday, and if I feel up to it on Sunday, I will run the marathon. But, to be honest, I’m pretty sure I will. Yvonne’s tale of how crap she felt before Chicago and then ran 3:30:15, is encouraging, and I found one story on RW where a guy ran a marathon with 101-degree fever (yes, he got seriously sick. But hey, he ran the whole thing). I haven’t got a temperature, so should be ok from a doctor’s point of view.

Today I’m stuffing myself with carbohydrates, both to counteract the lack of energy I’m experiencing, and to try and do some carbo-loading. I’m not very picky. So far I’ve had jam on toast (twice), some grapes, wheat cereal, a big lunch (including a scone packed with jam), an energy bar, a banana, and I’m about to attack another energy bar. And it’s only 3 o’clock. Plus plenty of sports drink. I don’t think a lack of carbs will be my problem.

I haven’t run a single step since last Friday. I hope that won’t affect my fitness.

The route in Connemara is full of hills. One guy in the forum reckons they add 10-20 minutes to your time. That seems a bit much, but judging from the profile, I would regard any time less than 4 hours as an achievement. I’ll try and shoot for something more ambitious, as long as I feel well enough. The first 9.5 miles are gradually uphill, then there’s a big downhill, a big climb, another down section, a few small ups and downs until mile 22 and then there’s the Hell of the West, more than 1.5 mile of climbing towards the highest point of the course. From then on you can roll towards the finishing line. I’ve run plenty of hills, but never on mile 23. I’ll let you know how it went.

Premature Celebrations

Thanks for all your well wishes, but when I said I was feeling better, I meant I was feeling a little bit better – but still not very well. I went to work on Monday, but that might have been a mistake, because in the evening I felt like poop, and went pretty much straight to bed. I got up at 8 to watch Manchester City in the FA Cup quarter final. I had high hopes for this game. We had been waiting 15 years to reach that stage in the competition, and it was clearly our special year. Well, 90 minutes later we lost 2:1, the cup is over for yet another year, it will probably take another 15 years to get that far and I was feeling suicidal.

Niamh slept with Cian in the guestroom, and I had the first uninterrupted night of sleep since, well, I can’t remember, and slept for 9 hours solid. I felt better (still not recovered), and decided to take the day off work. By now I’m worried. It’s only 5 days to the race, and if I’m not better with 48 hours, the marathon will be going ahead without me.

In the last 12 months, I've been sick three times: the week before I ran the Belfast marathon, one week after the 3-country marathon, and now one week before the Connemara marathon. Niamh says it's psychosomatic. I say it just sucks.

Two ibuprofens just made me feel a lot better, but that’s just covering up the symptoms, not curing it. Send good vibes into my general direction, maybe it will help.

Sickbay Update

Well, the good news is that I’m better. I’m still a bit unwell and there was never any doubt that today’s planned 7-mile run was going to be cancelled. However, I’m fine enough to go to work tomorrow, and I’m confident there won’t be any ill-effects for Sunday’s marathon.

The last week before the marathon was the one week where I had already planned to deviate from Pfitzinger’s schedule. If you have a look at the programme, he suggests running on four out of five days before the marathon, with a total of 22 miles. I did that before the Three-Country marathon in October, though I did cut the last two runs from 9 miles combined down to 5. Afterwards I felt that they were taking valuable energy away from me, without me gaining anything from them. I think that those runs were responsible for feeling like crap at mile 16. (was I hitting the wall? Probably.) As a result of that experience, I always planned to rest the final two days before the marathon, and have two short runs on the two days before that. Since my present state means a re-jiggling of plans, I’ll play it by ear. If I feel really well on Monday, I’ll have a short run on Tuesday, but more likely I’ll postpone that. I promise, I won’t even attempt a run if I’m not entirely well. I know that there is not much to gain from any run now, apart from fulfilling the urge to get out and run, and I won’t do anything stupid.

Oh, and Ireland beat the English at rugby on Sunday. In England. With a try just two minutes from the end. Sweet.

It's Official

I’m unwell. I don’t want to use the term sick, because I don’t feel that bad, but I’m certainly not in any condition to run a marathon at the moment. It’s a very good thing indeed that it’s still 9 days to go, that should leave me plenty of time to recover.

The day didn’t start too badly. It’s St. Patrick’s Day, which means I’m off work of course. Nana and Gaga are here, and provide some help with the children, leaving me with the possibility to take it easy during the day. I went for what was supposed to be a recovery run, but it didn’t work out that way. I was running way too fast. Every time I tried to put on the breaks and consciously slowed down to an acceptably low pace, the body took over once I let my mind wander again and speeded up again. I presume it’s down to me being full of energy from the taper.

However, once I got back home, I soon started to feel unwell. By lunchtime I felt really cold, and it stayed like that all day. I didn’t develop a temperature, but it sure felt like that was only a matter of time. I used the opportunity to lie in bed most day and read Run Strong, nearly from cover to cover, plus I had some peeks into Pfitzinger’s and Lydiard’s books. An hour ago I took some ibuprofen, and I feel much better now, which once again confirms this as my drug of choice (not entirely unusual for a runner, I presume). I don’ know how I’ll feel once the drugs wear off, of course. I’m hopeful a decent night’s sleep would cure me, but those are few and far between for me, thanks to my boys.

I’m very confident that I’ll be ok for the marathon, though, so don’t you all worry too much about me.

Good Luck to Rob in his insane quest.

17 Mar: 5 miles, 41:50, 8:22 pace

The last interval workout

I did my last interval training before the marathon, and it was a tough one, 3x1600 with 2 minutes in-between. The beautiful spring weather we’ve had over the last two days had me completely fooled, and I didn’t even check the weather before leaving our house.

It was drizzling slightly, and it was quite cold. I kept going, but thought that I should have worn long sleeves instead of a t-shirt. I was right. The wind and the rain got stronger, and soon I felt pretty cold. However, once the intervals started, I forgot all about that. It was really tough. In fact, I seriously contemplated bailing out and going home towards the end of the first interval. Somehow I managed to get going, hoping that the other runs would feel easier. Well, the second one did, but it was my fault. When I checked my heart rate monitor about half the way, I realized that I was running too slowly, the HR was around 170 instead of 180 where it should have been. I upped the tempo, and eventually managed to finish the workout. This time there was no extra interval though; I was knackered.

I’m not feeling 100%; Shea had a temperature earlier this week, and I might have picked up something from him. I don’t have a temperature myself, but I don’t feel entirely on top. I get this every time before a marathon, the last 2 weeks before the race I am totally paranoid about any coughs and sneezes. In fact, before Belfast last year I actually spent two days in bed, just 5 days before the race, unable to eat and hardly able to sleep (no, I wasn’t at my best for the marathon). Understandably, after all that training I don’t want to get sick at the last minute.

But I’m just paranoid here. In 10 days I’ll be there at the starting line, healthy as a fish in water. Honestly.

16 Mar: 7 miles, 56:29, 8:04 pace (including 3x1600 [approx] intervals)

Getting Ready

Only 12 days to go and I’m already in the middle of the taper. When I went to bed early last night, Niamh and I had the following dialog:

Niamh: I thought you wouldn’t do any more long runs
Me: I don’t, it’s only 12 miles, and long runs are anything over 17 miles
Niamh: *roles eyes*
Me: You should listen to some of those ultra guys, they say long runs are anything above marathon distance
Niamh:
Me: But they’re nuts
Niamh: Yeah. Like you’re not.

Don’t worry; I know she loves me.

I had a lot of troubles with my shoelaces coming undone recently (I like to think it’s down to the laces material, not my lack of tie-lacing skills). I searched on the Internet, and while most people suggested a double knot, this guy suggests a completely new knot. I liked it and decided to give it a go. It’s like learning how to tie your laces all over again, and it was a bit weird the first time I tried it, but with a little bit of practise I got there, and I think this is the way I’ll tie my running shoes from now on.

The run today was excellent; I feel full of energy, which I presume is a result of the additional rest the taper so far has provided. I was really frustrated that yesterday was a rest day. On Sunday I was very much looking forward to the next run, and was slightly shocked when I realised that this week incorporates an extra rest day, but decided to stick to the program. Today I felt really good, and despite the fact that I didn’t particularly push the pace, I came back with a sub-8 mins/mile average time, which is quite unusual. I am well able to run under 8 mins/mile, but usually I have to push the pace. Today I was just cruising along at some decent speed, and was surprised at the end that I had been so fast. Not that I’m complaining. I just feel more confident about the marathon – better be careful, I don’t want to get cocky ;-)

14 Mar: 12 miles, 1:34, 7:50 pace

Not a Racer

There was a 10k in Adare today, about 90 minutes drive from here. I was thinking about going, but decided yesterday not to bother. That’s the third race in a row I have missed voluntarily. There was a 10 miler in Mallow (90 mins drive) in January, a 5 miler near Cork (2 hrs drive) three weeks ago, and now the 10k today. I thought about this during my run today, and came to the decision that I simply don’t particularly like racing. Now that probably sounds strange, I am doing all this running and then I don’t want to race? Well, think about it that way. I ran for a good hour today, directly from home, which means that I was home again after that hour. If I had gone to the race, I would have had to drive 90 minutes each way, spend a good time there before and after the race, and with the race itself we are talking about 5 hours absence from home. That’s an additional 4 hours away from my family, and family time is very precious to me, especially on weekends. The only race I did this year was a 5k in Dublin, where we happened to be at the time, and I didn’t have to drive far. Bringing the family to the race isn’t an option as Niamh refuses to have three kids running around and with nobody to help her looking after them.

So, it looks like I won’t be doing much racing for the foreseeable future. I’m fine with that. The runs I have enjoyed the most this year so far were the two twenty milers in nice conditions, with the moon shining on the first one and the stars being so brilliant for the second one. Compare that with the race that I could have run today, a 10k after a lot of time in the car, and where I would have been lucky to finish something like 112th out of 250 racers.

Having said all that, I am still looking forward to the marathon. Marathons are different; they are the focus of my training, not some afterthought. Plus, Niamh and the kids are coming to Connemara with me and we’re making it a family weekend away.

Oh, and the run today was fine. I decided to run all the way up to the summit of the Devil’s Elbow. That’s a climb of about 200 meters and definitely counts as a tough hill workout. The last 2 minutes until the summit were not runnable, due to it being a very steep, stony and muddy trail. The view up there was breathtaking (it’s the one you can see in my header, but it looks much better in 3D), but the wind was rather cold and I didn’t stay there but turned back immediately to run back home. I felt full of energy when I rejoined the road and decided to run the last 2 miles at speed, probably close to 7 mins/mile. I don’t know how long the distance overall was, my guess would be 7.5 miles.

Finally, Good Luck to Jack, who is running his marathon as I write these words.

12 Mar: 7.5 miles (est.), 1:05, 8:40 pace (est.)

The Eye of the Storm

My, doesn’t time fly. I can’t believe today was Intervals again! Actually, they have grown on me. The main reason for this is probably the fact that they are over so quickly, thus enabling me to get some much-needed sleep.

I woke at 5:50 (after only one interruption in the night – wahey!), and the weather out there was rather wild – I could hear the wind and the rain, and thought about skipping today’s workout. Then I remembered that I had already had a rest day yesterday, and I won’t be able to make up for it because I might run a race on Sunday, and I would feel guilty, and … and before I could think any more, I got up.

I actually got very lucky. When I left home it had nearly stopped raining and the wind had calmed down considerably, and I got my workout done in decent conditions. I was planning on 5x600s, which for me means running hard for 2:30 mins, and 90 seconds of recovery. When I ran the first interval, I checked the watch – oh dear, 2:40 gone already, I have done too much. Never mind. Then I did the second interval, eventually checked my watch and – 2:50 gone. Oops. I managed to do the third one to the correct time, but believe it or not, I again overshot my target on the fourth interval. After the fifth, and supposedly final one I once again didn’t feel tired enough and added a sixth one. You could argue that maybe I didn’t run the 5 planned intervals hard enough, but my heart rate was up there at 182, which is 96% of my max HR, so I’d say I ran them pretty hard. Maybe all the training has made me stronger - well, that’s ok by me.

I got back home, and by the time I left again for work the rain and the storm were back, and it’s been a miserable day all day. I really must have managed to get the only calm hour of the day to get my workout done. This should make up for Tuesday’s atrocious timing.

9 Mar: 6.5 miles, 55:23, 8:31 pace, including 6x600 (roughly) intervals

You spoke, I listened

I took your comments to heart and decided that sleep is more important than two extra miles at this time. Unfortunately they say that only fools make the same mistake twice, and I must be the biggest fool around, because I’ve now made the same mistake so often I’ve lost count. It should be easy enough to remember: If you want to get up early, go to be early. So why did I stay up until 10:30pm? I really don’t know.

It would have been ok if I didn’t have any kids. Unfortunately, they once more impeccably timed their non-sleeping habits to maximum effect. Cian came in at about 2 o’clock, Shea at about 3, and when Lola turned up 3:50, I carried Shea back into his own bed and let Lola in. Unfortunately, she kept me from sleeping, and I eventually tried to put her back into her own bed. After I had turned on her night-light, found a suitable giraffe to cuddle and made her a hot water bottle, the little princess graciously accepted her own bed. Alas, I couldn’t sleep after that, it took me until 4:50 to fall asleep again, and the alarm went of 15 minutes later.

*sigh*

To make matters worse, it was raining again. Met Eireann had forecast a wet night with the rain drying up towards the morning, but unfortunately the drying up hadn’t happened yet by the time I left for my run. I didn’t feel well, the legs felt heavy, and I felt like I was trundling along at snails-pace. It wasn’t until I got back to our driveway after 10 miles to get some water and a gel that I realised that I was actually going at a decent pace, about 8:20. I laboured on for the second part, and at 12 miles something funny happened, all of a sudden I clicked and started to run with a proper rhythm and without troubles. It was bit like Johnny describes it in his run, except that I didn’t have to run 25 miles to feel good, just half that distance. The rest of the run went well, and I got back home after 16 miles. As I was walking up our driveway to our house, it stopped raining. I kid you not.

*sigh*

On a completely unrelated note, last Friday a work colleague asked me when I would be doing my next marathon. “In 3 weeks”. “Oh, are you training yet?”.

*sigh*

6 Mar: 5 easy miles, 45:34, 9:06 pace
7 Mar: 16 miles, 2:13, 8:18 pace

Run to the Hills

Three weeks to go until the marathon, and the taper is about to start. I’m pondering how long I should run on Tuesday. The schedule says 16 miles, but that was meant to be for a long run on Sunday, just 14 days before the marathon. As I do my long runs on Tuesdays, it means I have an extra 5 days from the workout to the race. I might therefore do 18 miles instead, but I’ll decide on Monday. Unfortunately I can’t decide during the run, because I have to know in advance how long I’m going to run, otherwise I won’t return back home in time to go to work. I guess that’s the disadvantage of running your runs in the morning, but I can take that.

The snow didn't last the day. It was still cold yesterday morning, but it meant we were left with the icy road conditions, and sans snow. Today it's warmer again.

I did a hill run today; there is a road around the peak of the Devil’s Elbow, which includes a climb from 15m to about 150m elevation in about one (brutal) mile. It is a challenge to run it all without a walking break, but I managed it today, tempted as I was to stop running at the steepest parts. The heart rate shot up to 181, which is in my VO2max zone, though I didn’t really look to have such a workout. On the road back home, at about 6.5 miles, I went up another hill, just as steep but about half as high. This one isn’t ideal, because it leads to a dead-end and I had to run down the same road again, and it’s too steep to run down comfortably.

I got caught in the rain again and got competely soaked on the last 3 miles. I felt a bit of hail as well, but that didn't last more than a minute.

I guess the whole run was just over 9 miles. The road around the Devil’s Elbow is 8.7 miles, and let’s say the second climb, including the way back down, added another half mile for a 9.2 miles workout. The exact distance doesn’t really matter, it’s the effort that counts.

3 March: 6 easy miles, 55:02, 9:10 pace
5 March: 9.2 hilly miles, 1:17, 8:22 pace

Intervals in a Winter Wonderland

Plenty of people here in Ireland insist that spring begins on 1 March. Unfortunately, nobody told the weather God, and she dumped a load of snow onto us in the last two days. Well, when I said a load, I meant enough to cover the area in white. This might not impress the majority of you, but it is a reasonably rare event in Kerry. Usually when it’s cold enough for snow the sky is clear, and when the clouds appear, it warms up enough for the would-be snow to turn into rain (and haven’t I experienced it often enough!). The kids loved the winter scene, of course, but it made for treacherous running conditions, especially this morning when I was running over a lot of icy patches. There was one short-but-steep climb, which I took three times, and each time started slipping, but never enough to knock me off balance. It was also cold enough to put on two layers, and in contrast to Tuesday today I was happy enough with that.

It was interval time again, 4x1200, which I translated into 5:10 minutes of hard running and 2 minutes recovery in-between. I could have shortened the running to 5 minutes, which would have made figuring out the breaks a tad easier, but that would have felt like cheating.

Unfortunately, my legs felt dead. This could be a result of Tuesday’s 20-miler, or of last night’s Yoga session, where I once more got a cramp in my right calf. This is happening far too often, and I don’t know why.

Whatever the cause, after finishing my fourth repetition I was close to collapsing, and could not wait to get home again. Now, a few hours later, I have a nagging feeling that I should have run them a bit faster, because my heart rate didn’t go as high as I would have expected during the first two runs.

Well, it’s too late to change now, and I can vouch for the fact that I ran hard enough to feel very tired immediately after the effort.

The weather is supposed to remain cold for a few more days. Let’s hope the roads will be less treacherous though.

2 Mar: 7.5 miles, 1:06, 8:48 pace, including 4x1200 intervals

I Feel Good

For once I actually managed to go to bed at the planned time. By 9 o’clock I had put the last of the kids to bed, by 9:15 I was in bed myself, and by 9:30 I was asleep. I woke once or twice, but each time managed to fall asleep again quickly, and when the alarm rang at 4:30 in the morning I felt totally refreshed after 7 hours of sleep. I looked out of the window and was stunned by the brilliant sky. There was no moonlight whatsoever, and the stars looked even brighter than usual. There was even a satellite going over (at least I presume it was a satellite – it was way too fast for a plane, and it wasn’t a meteorite).

I had a big breakfast, namely my usual wheat cereal, a slice of Niamh’s delicious dates-and-walnut bread, and a small banana, all washed down with lots of water. After that I felt ready for my 20-miler.

I had originally put on just a long-sleeved top, but thinking about the cold weather forecast I overruled my instinct and put on a singlet underneath. As a result I was uncomfortably hot once I had warmed up. At mile 4 I had enough and took off the singlet. Cue me trying to put the jumper back on and then the reflective sash I wear to ensure I’m being seen by any passing motorist. I don’t know why, but I really struggled putting the sash back on correctly – I must have fumbled in the dark for at least two minutes, and would have looked like a complete idiot, had anyone been awake to witness the spectacle. Of course, 5 mile is a turn-around point, and all of a sudden I realised I would be running into the wind for the next few miles, and started to feel cold. I put on the singlet again (a dark singlet over all my reflective gear – not very safety conscious) and made my way back towards our driveway. At mile 9.5 I could see the light of a lorry coming down the road, and quickly ripped off the singlet again, to ensure I’m being seen – no panic, by the time I had it off, the lorry was still half a mile away.

I left the singlet at our driveway, because the second half of the run consisted of two loops to Ard-na-Sidhe, and that’s in the wood and therefore sheltered from the wind. I also had a gel at mile 10, and another one at mile 15. By the way, can I sue Powerbar for false advertising? Their strawberry-and-banana gel tastes nothing like either strawberries or bananas.

Anyway, I couldn’t believe how well I felt. My legs started to feel a bit tired at mile 17, which is the distance of each of my last three long runs, so maybe I was starting to get used to that distance, but I still felt strong, and towards the end took the last climb to our house at good pace. I finished the 20 miles in 2:50, and could have run faster (and had at least 4 minutes break, for my clothes change and the two refuelling stops), which means my actual running pace was faster than 8:30. This gives me hope that an average pace of 8:20 might really be possible 26 days from now. I’m actually really looking forward to the marathon now, I feel ready.

27 Feb: 5 recovery miles, 47:45, 9:33 pace
28 Feb: 20 miles, 2:50, 8:30 pace if you include the breaks in the overall time

Sleeping, Running and another Photo

Thanks for all your helpful comments. I’m actually well aware of how you train your children to sleep, and we’ve been through the “bring them back into their own bed again and again and again and again” phase. That’s how we got them to sleep in their own beds in the first place. It’s just that the boys have recently developed a tendency of coming into our bed at some stage. Shea is usually better, he tends to stay in his bed once I bring him back, but Cian isn’t quite there yet. I'll take your comments onboard and try to be more stringent again. But would you believe it, last night they all slept in their own beds, and we weren’t woken until 7:20 am. Anyone who doesn’t have kids will be horrified by the fact that I call sleeping until 7:20 on a Sunday morning a rare luxury, but parents will know exactly how rare that is.

Enough of sleep, or lack of it, this is still supposed to be a running blog. I did my 10-mile tempo run this morning. Well, when I say morning, I mean I left at about 10:30. It is so much easier during the week. The alarm goes, I get up, eat something and head out of the door without thinking. On Sundays, I stay in bed, and “just 10 minutes more” become 30 minutes, then an hour, then 2, and if I don’t get up then I might miss my run completely.

Once I managed to get out, I felt really good though. The last few weeks have been very consistent between 51 and 49 miles each, and I’m probably fitter than ever before in my life. I felt very strong all the way. At some stage I overtook a couple who were gently jogging along. They wore thick hats, gloves, long pants, and several layers on top, including a fleece. Imagine the contrast to me in shorts and t-shirts. When I told Niamh she said they must have been more sensible, but I don’t think so. I wasn’t cold, and I would have felt uncomfortably hot in their attire.

The miles just flew along, and I was back home in 1:15, which is probably as fast as I have ever managed 10 miles. It also gives me just about 50 miles for the week. The marathon is four weeks from today. There is just one more week of proper training, and then the taper begins. My, hasn’t time flown.

26 Feb: 10 miles, 1:15, 7:30 pace

The one Thing missing from my training

is adequate sleep. I’d sure like to get some more, but it’s not really forthcoming for the time being. I went to bed at 10.30, which would have given me 7.5 hours of sleep. My next mistake was to open a book to “read for 5 minutes”. Of course, 5 minutes turned into 10, then 15 and by the time I finally put it down, it was 11pm. That still would have been a decent amount of sleep, but at 3am I woke up to find myself sandwiched by Cian on my left and Shea on my right. Well, if you’ve ever had the misfortune of sharing your bed with one or two little boys, you know that they don’t just sleep. They twitch, and turn, and cough and kick, non-stop. Every time I was on the verge of falling asleep, I got another kick/prod/elbow. This went on until about 4am, when Shea woke up and demanded some breakfast. Now, we have been through this dozens of time. He says he’s hungry and I tell him he can’t have any food because it’s still the middle of the night. 30 seconds later the cycle starts again, until eventually I give up, get out of bed and fix him some breakfast. He’s more insistent than I am. I have yet to win such an argument.

I made him promise to get back into his own bed once he’s finished the cereal, which he did to be fair, and I was therefore able to get another, well, 1.5 hours of sleep until the alarm clock went off. All in all that’s probably between 5.5 and 6 hours of sleep, and I can’t remember the last night when I've had significantly more than that.

Yes, I know. I have written very similar entries before. It’s just that these events are re-occurring far too regularly, and Niamh has the ability to sleep through those things and I don’t. Plus, Niamh is not a morning person while I am, and the kids know that.

I still ran 11 miles. The weather forecast had been wrong, and it was much warmer than expected. I had originally chosen long pants, but changed into shorts before I left the house. I still wore a singlet under a long sleeve shirt, and was uncomfortably hot for the first half of the run. There was a big black cloud in the sky, which I expected to drop its load onto me for most of the run, but apart from a few isolated raindrops, that never happened. At the return leg the wind picked up significantly, but I made it home before the weather took a bad turn. During the day the announced bad weather came indeed (well, sleet rather than snow), and I was glad that I had just about managed to avoid it during my run.

I’m planning to do another 10 mile tempo run on Sunday to round up the week.

24 Feb: 11 miles, 1:31, 8:16 pace

What, Yet Again?

Is it really only a week since my last interval workout? I can’t believe it, it seems like only two days ago.

The kids have been a bit more reasonable the last two nights, though there is still a lot of room for improvement. I’ve written so much about my sleepless nights, that the Google ads now advertise insomnia remedies on top of my blog. Thanks for the hint, Google, but I won’t drug my kids, tempting as it may be at 2:30 am.

I forgot to set the alarm today, but woke up anyway. It’s a bit warmer today (the cars’ wind screens were not frozen over) and the schedule called for 5x600 intervals with 90 seconds of recovery. Trackless as I am, I translated that into my by now familiar pattern of 2 minutes of hard running between the recovery intervals. I started out a little bit easier than on my previous 600s two weeks ago, because I didn’t want to run myself to the ground again during the first interval. I do notice the major drawback of my lack of a track, namely that I haven’t got any real feedback on how fast I am actually running, and I can’t gauge if I’m really doing 600s, or if it’s more or less.

Anyway, I did my 5 reps and true to recent form decided to add another one at the end. Intervals are a pain (sometimes literally), but they are over quickly, and I do get a feeling of achievement out of them.

The weather forecast predicts a “morning rain or snow shower” for tomorrow. Please, Oh Dear Weather God, let them be wrong!

23 Feb: 6.7 miles, 55:17, 8:15 pace, with 6x600 intervals

What happened when?

I’ll try and remember the sequence of last night. I went to bed at 10, but took about half an hour to fall asleep, and woke a few times between then and midnight. Then I slept soundly until 2:30am. Then it starts to get confusing. Shea came to our bed and crept in. Then Lola came, and stayed there as well. Then I carried Shea back into his bed. Then Lola started to crawl all over me and I gave out to her. Then I had to console Lola who was crying because I had given out to her. I carried her into her bed, and I made her a hot water bottle, and we made up. Then Shea came back, saying he was too cold. I carried him back again and made him a bottle as well (or were the two water bottles the other way round? Not sure). Then Cian came into our bed. Then Cian wanted some breakfast. After I had prepared some cereal, I managed to fall asleep again, at about 3:15 or so.
At 4:55 the alarm went and I got up. To my immense surprise Cian had quietly gone back to bed again after eating a bowl of cereal – that’s a first, even if he went into our bed rather then his.

Oh, yes, running. I did 17 miles again, this time at a more conservative pace than last week’s supposed marathon pace effort. My legs felt quite heavy. The lack of sleep didn’t help, I guess, and neither did the fact that I had been playing football on Monday evening. I managed all right, though I would have preferred to run a bit faster. Interestingly, two weeks ago I did exactly the same run at exactly the same pace, but then my average heart rate was 5 beats higher than today.

The weather is fine at the moment, just a little chilly in the morning (I guess it was about 26F/-3C at 5am). Still, that’s preferable to rain, and Caragh Lake mirroring the moon did look splendid, I have to say. And the kids slept right until I came back home, allowing Niamh to get some rest herself. What more can you ask for?

20 Feb: 5 recovery miles, 47:19, 9:27 pace
21 Feb: 17 miles, 2:29, 8:45 pace

Running on Empty

I had two rather contrasting runs of late. On Thursday evening, Niamh and me were admiring the incredibly clear night sky with a million stars and not a cloud in sight. When I left for my run just a few hours later, it was raining extremely heavily. So, out I got my trusty rain jacket and we headed off for a 12 miler, which went very well despite the miserable conditions. I even ran a bit longer than planned, to make it more like 12.5 miles.

Today, Sunday, was the total opposite. The weather could not have been nicer, but the run was dreadful. It was my own mistake. We had gone out to the Cinema last night, and I hadn't eaten properly. I had a slice of pizza and a packet of crisps for “dinner”, and when we got home I wolfed down a protein bar because I was ravenous. I paid for that during my run, because I felt absolutely miserable, and thought I was running on empty. I was very tempted to cut the 8 miles a bit short, but I saw it as penance for not looking after myself properly. I presume I’ve learned that lesson now, and won’t repeat the same mistake again.

It has been a good week, despite today’s run, and I covered 49 miles. I was half tempted to head out for a quick mile to make it a round 50, but decided that this would be just silly. 50 is just as random a number as 49, and a one mile run will not make me a better runner.


17 Feb: 12.5 miles, 1:40, 8:00 pace
19 Feb: 8 miles, 1:06, 8:15 pace

Intervals Again

It was that time of the week again. Intervals. I felt really stiff when I left home in the morning, and dreaded the time when the fast stuff would be starting. The weather didn’t help – very windy, and with gusts of rain from time to time. The schedule called for 3x1000 intervals with 2 minutes of jogging for recovery. As usual, I had to improvise, and ran 4:15 minutes hard with 2 minutes jogging. During the first interval I thought I was going to throw up, and the 2 minutes between the first and the second run were the shortest 2 minutes of my life. During the second run I was so concentrated that I didn’t even notice that the rain had started again – I noticed it only after I slowed down for the recovery. But strangely, I started to feel a lot better at that point. I ran the third interval, and then, on my way home, I thought what the hell, turned around, and added a fourth interval because I didn’t feel tired enough.
All in all the workout lasted about 55 minutes, and I feel fine, if a little stiff. Tomorrow I’ll do 12 miles, and an 8 miler either on Saturday or Sunday.

I also found a new picture of Caragh Lake. I liked it, and decided to turn it into my header. It’s taken from the top of the Devil’s Elbow, and you can see most of the lake. The HTML needs a little more tweaking, I’ll do it when I find a spare hour. Our house isn’t in the frame; it’s a bit further to the right. Still, it’s a nice scenery, isn’t it?

15 Feb: 5 recovery miles, 46:37, 9:19 pace
16 Feb: 6.5 miles, 56:18, 8:39 pace, with 4x1000 intervals

A Fine Run

Last night we had a really bad storm on the Irish west coast. I was quite worried about today’s long run, and, to add to my troubles, I didn’t go to bed until after 10 o’clock, and then spent another 25 minutes reading. That was stupid, but in my defence, it was Lydiard’s book “Running with Lydiard”, and I found it really difficult to put down.

Anyway, I set the alarm for 5am, but woke up on my own accord at 4:59. How is that for timing? I had a quick look out of the window, and there was a beautiful scenery with the Full Moon and a few scattered clouds. Fantastic! Unfortunately by the time I was ready to get out, a massive black cloud covered the moon and promised a wet start to the run. It caught me by mile 1, but half a mile later the moon came out again and it soon stopped raining. That set the pattern for the run, the moon was brilliant, and when it disappeared behind a cloud I knew that I was going to get wet again 10 minutes later. It never rained heavily though, and it was still an enjoyable run. The plan was to do 17 miles, 14 of which at marathon pace. As I’m still undecided on what pace I can sustain for 26 miles, I just ran a strong effort, without getting too close to my lactate threshold pace.

As it turned out, I managed an average of 8:10 for the whole duration, but I think I might have slowed down towards the end. If I try to hold an 8:20 pace for the marathon, this would give me a finishing time of 3:38, which is nearly 20 minutes off my present PR, and that sounds a bit over-optimistic. I guess I will have to decide on the day, depending on how well I feel, what time I shall be aiming for. (Having said that, I will probably start too fast and pay for it later on – as always).

14 Feb: 17 miles, 2:19, 8:10 pace

Bad Start

The kids were an absolute nightmare in the morning. Lola woke at 5:30 and demanded a hot water bottle, because she was cold. Once that was delivered, Cian woke up, and demanded a bottle. He doesn’t usually get one in the morning, but I was in no mood to argue. When he finished it off, Shea wanted breakfast. Then Cian wanted breakfast. Then they wanted to watch telly. Then they argued about what to watch. Then Lola wanted breakfast. Then they argued some more. Then they broke a lamp. Then …. I can’t remember what else, but I was up and about until 9 am, when Niamh got up, and I went back to bed for some more much needed sleep, and dozed for another 2 hours.

After such a bad start to the day, I was tempted to call it an off day, but eventually gathered enough resolve to head out of the door. I had planned a 10 miles tempo run. Initially I felt really slow, and then tried to gradually up the pace until I was at or about 8 minutes per mile. After 5 miles I felt much better, but at 6 miles I felt a sharp pain just above my left knee. I decided to keep going, but turn back home if it re-occurred, but it didn’t trouble me any further. I finished the run at some good pace, and was quite happy with it. I’m a bit sore now, which I presume is because I have been running on 4 consecutive days, which I’m no longer used to after my cut-back due to injury. I’m sure I will recover sufficiently tomorrow to have a good go at Tuesday’s 17 miles, 14 of which should be at marathon pace. I’m still unsure about what pace I might be able to sustain for a whole marathon, but I guess Tuesday’s run will give some clues.

I did 49 miles this week, which means I’m back on schedule.

12 Feb: 10 miles, 1:18, 7:48 pace

Back to Schedule

It’s only six weeks until the marathon, and, with the taper, it means there are only three more weeks of full training. I’ve decided that I’m finally fully mended – the achilles hasn’t troubled me unduly lately (it hurt towards the end of Tuesday’s long run, but not too badly) and the pain in my left quad is better as well, so I’ve decided to return to the full schedule of five runs a week rather than the four I’ve been doing for the last 4 or 5 weeks.

I did 11 miles on Friday, which went pretty well, apart from the fact that it was quite windy. I wanted to run along Caragh Lake because that route is much hillier than the alternative ones, and as the marathon will be on a very hilly road, I don’t want to lose my strength on those climbs. I didn’t have to worry, I felt very well on all sections, and completed the run without feeling tired.

Today was supposed to be a relaxed 5-mile recovery run. I ran a bit too fast for it to be a recovery run, but it was still easy pace. But despite the fact that I ran shorter, slower and over flatter course than the day before, my average heart rate was higher – go figure!

I’ve got a 10 mile tempo run planned for tomorrow, and Monday will a day off – let’s not overdo it.

10 Feb: 11 miles, 1:34, 8:32 pace
11 Feb: 5 easy miles, 44:23, 8:52 pace

Up and Running Again

I seem to have gotten over the crash - I seem to be sleeping very soundly again. So much so, that it is getting difficult to get up in the morning for the run.
Yesterday, I decided that I wouldn’t set the alarm, but if I woke up in time I’d head out for an easy recovery run, otherwise I wouldn’t have missed much. Well, I did indeed wake up at 6:30, but felt too tired to get up and just turned around to get some more sleep (which wasn’t really happening, as the kids started to wake up around the same time, too). So much for my resolve. Today, I did set the alarm, and when it went off, I got up and headed out of the door, tempted as I was to sleep in again. It just goes to show that I really have to have my mind firmly set on running; otherwise I don’t have the discipline to get up.

I did another set of 5x600 intervals, again somewhat improvised and irregular, namely running 2:30 hard (trying to get the heart rate up between 176 and 184), and 90 seconds of easy jogging in-between. I ran too hard on the first interval. The heart rate didn’t seem to get up quickly enough, so I kept pushing more and more. I paid for that in the later intervals, which were definitely slower, despite the fact that the heart rate was at least as high as on the first hard run. I guess you learn from your mistakes, and I’ll take it a bit easier at the beginning in my future workouts.

I certainly worked hard: after the last interval I felt nauseous, but managed to keep my breakfast in. The good thing about intervals is that they don’t last very long. It’s the only key workout that’s over in less than an hour, which means I can do them in the morning, and still get enough sleep without having to go to bed ridiculously early.

There is a 5-mile race near Cork, about 2 hours drive from here, on the 18th of February. Unfortunately, it looks like my car won’t be back from the mechanic by then, which means I won’t be able to make it. Damn, it would have fitted in well with my build-up.

9 Feb: 6 miles, 53:31, 8:55 avg. pace, including 5x600 (approx) intervals

Crash

I’ve re-read my last post, and I thought it sounded a bit negative towards the comments I have received. Let me assure you that I value every single comment (well, except spam of course), and even if I might disagree with someone else’s opinion, I still want to hear about it.

I’ve just found the worst possible way to start the week, namely crashing the car on the way to work on Monday morning. I was coming down a ramp towards the N70, when another car was there just around a blind corner. The road is ridiculously narrow (it is impossible for two cars to pass each other), and I hit the brakes. Unfortunately the road was also covered in gravel, and my car just seemed to slide and slither along, rather than slowing down, and I hit the other car. It wasn’t too bad an impact (my airbags didn’t inflate), and, most importantly, nobody got hurt. It was my fault, and I had no hesitation admitting it. The road is in a really bad condition, but I should have taken that into account and taken the corner that bit more slowly. My insurance is in good order, and we’ll see how much the damage is.

Oh yes, this is still a running blog. I went to bed early last night, but couldn’t sleep. I was awake at 10, at 11, at 12, at 1, and still at 2. I slept for a bit after that, though not very well, and at 5am the alarm went and I got up for this week’s long run. I was so glad to get out of the door I can’t describe it. That was the most I’ve ever needed to run, just to clear my head and try and get the scene of the crash out of my head. I can only hope I will never be involved in a serious crash, if a small one without injuries is shaking me up so badly. Anyway, the run went fine, 17 miles, 3 loops along the Devil’s Elbow and towards Ard-na-Sidhe, and my head feels all the better for it. My achilles disagrees and started hurting again after 14 miles, but not too badly, and certainly less than in the past few weeks. I might do a recovery run tomorrow, and then definitely a few intervals on Thursday.

17 miles, 2:29, 8:45 pace

I have to answer this

I think I’ll respond to some of the comments I have been getting recently. Stefano, why would I give away the address of a referee who is obviously a keen Ireland supporter ;-), though I agree, from a neutral viewpoint he made some truly atrocious decisions – all in Ireland’s favour, of course.
Secondly, Yvonne, thank you very much, but I’m definitely not some kind of super human. On the opposite, getting up early and heading straight out of the door is by far the best way to ensure I do get my run in. Every weekend it is a struggle to get out of the door, because there is always an excuse to do some other task first. Looking after three children is something you get used to (it’s not as if you have a choice, once they’re born, is it?), and as for doing a full day of work after the run: well, again, what choice do I have? That mortgage needs to be paid, and the new car is expensive, and the supermarkets expect to be paid at the checkout, too.
Lastly, what is all that about me doing ultras? Are you guys and gals trying to kill me? Half a year ago I did indeed have plans to do an ultra at some stage. The one thing that cured me was my last marathon. I was totally and utterly spent after 26 miles, and the mere idea of doing another 5, 10 or even 20 miles after that was completely out of the question. In fact, when I was at mile 18, I felt really crap, but the knowledge that it was only 8 more miles to the end kept me going. If that had been an ultra with another, say, 20 miles to go, I would have DNF’ed there and then.

Maybe I should also mention my running since the last entry. I did some slow 6 miles on Friday. I had played football on Thursday, and got a nasty kick to the inside of my right knee – which, by the way, is still painful three days later, and for which the perpetrator didn’t even apologise. Friday was therefore a rather pathetic stumble on two hurting legs – the left quad and the right knee being rather painful. It got better after two miles, but kept hurting all the way.

Today I did a 12-mile tempo run, that is 3 miles warm-up, 7 miles tempo, and 2 miles cool-down. I surprised myself on how well it went. I should have started more conservatively, taking into account the heart-rate drift, but instead did the first 3 miles a bit too fast and slowed down slightly over the last two, but I was still pleased on how well the legs felt all the way. This has been a tough week, with the 20-miler on Tuesday and two 12-milers, and I’m now moving onto the speed phase. As mentioned before, I haven’t got access to a track, so I usually calculate the amount of time I should be running hard in advance, and then do those intervals on a reasonably flat piece of road – usually the road alongside the Devil’s Elbow. This is probably not the ideal way of doing things, because I can’t really tell the pace I’m running at, but I believe the pure effort is more important than any numbers on time or pace.

3 Feb: 6 easy miles, 56:07. 9:21 pace
5 Feb: 12 miles, 1:33, 7:45 pace, 7 of those at 7:08 pace

Rest? What Rest?

I had initially toyed with the idea of doing a short recovery run yesterday to get rid of the stiffness in my legs after Tuesday’s 20 miler, but decided to sleep in instead. Considering the fact that I had only gotten about 5 hours of sleep before that long run, it was almost certainly the best way to recover.

Today, on the other hand, I was due another early morning rise, to get in 12 miles (hey, I’m just following the schedule which was written by a guy who knows a lot more about running than I do). I set the alarm for 5:45, but of course it wasn’t needed, thanks to Shea being a right pain from about 5:15 on. I eventually got up and fixed him some breakfast as well as getting ready myself. I put him back to bed before I left, but Niamh told me afterwards that he was up again the second I was out of the door, and kept her from sleeping instead.

The run went very well. The temperatures have risen significantly over the last two days; unfortunately this was accompanied by a lot of clouds bringing rain. I got lucky and it didn’t rain during my run though. It was so warm that I didn’t even notice that I had left my gloves behind until after I had arrived back home. I wore my new shoes for the second time, and this time they already felt a lot more comfortable. Maybe they will turn out to be a good choice after all.

We drove to Limerick today to have a look at a car, a 7 seater, which should make those journeys to visit Nana and Gaga in Dublin a lot more agreeable. We did indeed buy it (well, I haven’t picked it up yet), but driving there and back again meant 4 hours in the car, and my legs are stiff again. No, it’s not the 12 miles that I’m suffering from, it’s definitely the car journey!

2 Feb: 12 miles, 1:42, 8:30 pace