Fail Better

American runner Zach Miller just wrote a blog post about the Art of Failing that is incredibly valid to me after that race in Albi.

"To put it bluntly, there’s nothing left to fight for. Okay, maybe there is something, like a finish, but in the moment of battle such victories can pale in comparison to the grandiose things we dreamed of. And yet we refuse to give up. We press on."


There were other runners in Albi, including some of much higher calibre than me, who did not have their day either and who simply stepped off the track, saving themselves for another day. I just don't do that. I've never DNFed in a race, even when it may well have been a good idea. It's somewhere between determination, stubbornness and stupidity. Under the right circumstances that can be a good thing - I would never have reached international level otherwise - but at other times it can be a sub-optimal mind set.

On Sunday evening I had a chat with one of my team mates. She had been looking very good for about 15 hours but eventually faltered. She had a rest in the tent and then point blankly refused to go back out. "I did not see the point in walking for 6 hours!" I wasn't sure what to say - "that's exactly what I ended up doing" just didn't seem right.

It is easier in a race to a distance. Walk to the finish. You have an end point, a goal waiting for you. In a timed event, this is much tougher to do, mentally. You just keep walking the same loop over and over again, never getting anywhere. I can see why you wouldn't see the point in that.

I'm definitely having the post-race blues this time round, something I never got before. This really hit me deep.

Niamh contemplating the idea of having me round for 4 weeks

Niamh at first started laughing when she heard about my plan to take at least one month off. After a few days she seemed to catch on that I was serious. She's not happy. Last time she threw me out of the house after less than a fortnight, telling me to not even think of getting back unless I had run for at least half an hour. This could be a problem.

It's been a week since. I have had plenty of time to think it over. After feeling sorry for myself for a few days I started to analyse things, with a little bit of help. I know where I made the mistakes, and it goes back right to the start of the year. In retrospect it all looks so easy.

"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better."

Oh, and all the best to anyone running in Dublin tomorrow. If you get tired at mile 20 just think of me and the fact that I still had to do 100 miles at that point last week.

Unforgettable Albi

Some races I am immediately enthusiastic about. For some reason, the European Championships in Albi were not on that list. My initial reaction had been to say no when the team manager asked me to participate but after a bit of soul searching (and asking friends who voted 16:2) I decided, with a heavy heart, to forgo the Spartathlon this year and do the Euros after all. You don't get the chance to represent your country very often so I guess that made sense.

That doesn't mean I wasn't looking forward to it. Quite the opposite, as race day approached I was getting more and more excited. I also realised that skipping Sparta had been a good move in any case as it was scheduled only 3 months after the Belfast 24 hrs race and I would have had a very hard time. The extra month of recovery/training was going to be very beneficial, there was never any doubt about it.

When I got there I felt a bit intimidated by the sheer number of top runners around the place, with the inevitable feeling of "What the hell am I doing amongst those" but it wasn't as bad as before Turin; I guess I was a little bit more used to it and besides, I had proven in Turin that I can hold my own in that crowd.

An unforgettable number

The race numbers were being allocated on an alphabetical basis and due to Austria being the first team (Albania not sending anyone) and Bubendorfer being the first name in the team I was allocated start number 1!  Now that was super cool but it did provide a bit of extra pressure; with such a noticeable race number I would want to have a good race.

Anyway, at 10 o'clock on Saturday morning the gun went off and 97 men and 77 women started off on what would be a long journey. I fell into a very comfortable pace straight away, slower than most but that's okay. I did expect to work my way through the field in the long hours ahead.

I was wearing two watches. The reason was that I wanted to have a reading of my HR for the first few hours but my Suunto Ambit wouldn't last for 24 hours if it had to listen to the HRM as well so I set the Suunto into non-HRM mode and wore my ancient Garmin for the HR. Within minutes I was glad I was wearing the Garmin but for a completely unexpected reason: the Suunto's GPS signal had gone completely bonkers! I have used that watch for 2 years and never had any GPS problems before but it was displaying 6:xx-minute pace at times and I was pretty damn sure I wasn't on sub-3 marathon pace. The Garmin said 9:20-ish, which was definitely a lot more accurate. While I do pace myself on feel, not the watch, it is good to have some objective feedback from time to time and I was glad that my museum piece was here to pick up the pieces.

The first 3 hours passed quickly and without issues. I chatted a bit with some of the other contestants, especially the Irish ones, but for most of it I just jogged on my own. I checked the HR a couple of times and it was always between 135 and 140, perfect. The pace picked up a tiny amount and I had averaged 9:14 pace, which was very much within the pre-planned parameters. Everything seemed to be going to plan for the first 18 or 20 miles. Every lap, a bit more than 1 km, was passing quickly.

The first 20 miles in a 24 hours race are just the start of course. You can't win the race in that time but you can certainly lose it. As far as I can tell I had done everything right so far. Unfortunately, in an ultra things sometimes go wrong without an obvious mistake.

I felt far too tired! This was ridiculous. I run that far almost every week at a faster pace and before breakfast, so this should have felt like a walk in the park. Instead I felt like I was being put through the wringer already. As I have often stated, a long ultra is defined by how well you can manage your inevitable lows, so managing my first inevitable low, even if it was so much sooner than expected, is what I did, in the same way I always do: I put my head down and kept going. I made sure to drink enough and as far as I can tell my crew followed my pre-race nutrition plan very closely. The one thing that disagreed with me was a small piece of flapjack, so I told them not to give me any more of those, but that was the only deviation. I also helped myself to a couple of drinks from the organisers' table whenever I felt thirsty, and also to get a bit of variety.

With Aidan Hogan before the start

Usually (as in, always until now) this first low will last an hour or two and then I'll feel better again. That's what I expected to happen. Instead I was just sinking deeper and deeper into the mire and every time I thought I had reached an absolute low I inevitably started the descend into yet another circle of hell. At some point the Austrian team manager told me to slow down as it was very hot. I wasn't going very fast at that point and I don't think it was particularly hot but I was in no position to argue and slowed down, complying with his request. My guess is that he saw what I was going through and knew I had to ease up, distance goals be damned. Anyway, running slower did feel easier, no doubt about it, but my energy levels still refused to play ball and eventually I started to descend into the next level of hell once more. Dante Alighieri had his way with me today.

I ran a few laps with Brian Ankers, who unexpectedly had joined the open race. As much as he denies it, he still dreams of the day when he finally beats me in a 24 hours race (having ticked the marathon and 50k off that particular list already). I told him today was his big chance. Unfortunately he eventually decided he didn't want to beat me after all and stepped off the track. He still hung around for hours and gave us plenty of encouragement. Thanks mate!

I had gone through the marathon in about 4:05, which was perfectly fine. By the time I had forced myself towards the 50 mile mark I was at 8:36, which still isn't a complete disaster but it took me about 11:20 to get to 100k because by that time my energy levels were no longer my biggest problem. Nope, something else had gone wrong at an epic scale.

Basically, you can only go as fast as the weakest link allows. In long ultras, that is often the mind but that doesn't seem to be the case for me. No, my limitations were definitely physical.

I have suffered from cramps in quite a few races, and this year was pretty bad in that regards, especially in Manchester when cramping calves put paid to any chances of a sub-3 marathon or Tralee where that may have cost me a podium place. But I have never had a cramp in a long ultra. I supposed that the slow pace was preventing me from cramping. Maybe it did. Until now.

I could feel the first spasms going through my right calf muscle and it got worse very, very quickly. Within a lap I was very close to going into full cramping mode when I passed our tent and mentioned it to our physio. She immediately told me to come in and sit down. She tried to apply some cream but the second she touched my leg I immediately went into full cramping mode, very sudden and excruciatingly painful. I don't know how we eventually got this under control but she knew what she was doing and eventually she gave me a full massage and mentioned how the muscle was softening considerably. Of course all this took time, which must have cost me close to a lap. Therefore, when she told me to come back after 4 laps, I ignored her because I just could not get my head around losing so much time sitting down and decided to keep going instead.

You can guess how well this ended. 6 laps later the spasms were back and I sheepishly arrived for my delayed re-appointment with the physio. This time she did not even get to touch my leg. As soon as I sat down in the chair the tent was filled with some high-pitched alien noise that turned out to be me screaming while my calf was caught in the most brutal grip imaginable of some invisible vice. Again, I have no idea how we eventually got this under control, I vaguely remember having to lean against our team manager at some funny angle so that the physio could access my calf muscle at the required angle. It was, however, as sweet a moment as can be when the pain eventually subsided. After an absolute age I was released, once again under strict instructions to return every 4 laps for another massage. This time I had learned my lesson (it would have been hard not to). I was back in that chair 4 laps later. And again. And again. And again. And ...

It's hard to say for sure how often I visited that tent. When I was moving, I was actually moving rather well. I overtook plenty of runners when let loose but of course they would more than make up for that when I was back in the tent. I definitely had more than a dozen appointments, and they usually lasted about 5 minutes, sometimes less, sometimes more, sometimes a lot more. My best guess is that I spent close to 2 hours sitting down there while the physio kept working on me (she certainly went through her own version of an ultra!). However, it would not be right for me to claim that I lost 2 hours. The fact that I was able to rest every 4 laps, sometimes 5 when there was a queue in the tent (I wasn't the only runner in our team to have problems), enabled me to run surprisingly well for those 4 laps at a time, and even when I was getting very tired I knew I only had to push myself for so long until the next rest. Usually when I get too tired I switch into a run/walk mode. This time is was a run/stop mode, which obviously was slower overall but it just could not be helped.

At some stage I must have decided to make light of the situation and started to joke about it. When I overtook a team mate who previously had been running very well I loudly announced to the tent that I had just lapped Andy for the first time, which had been so much fun - admittedly, maybe less so for him. When I made a face after the physio had once again found a sore spot she pointed out that the birth of my 4 children must have been a lot more painful. My response? "That's true, that was really painful because my wife kept squeezing my hand so tightly". I'm surprised she didn't deliberately squeeze my calf after that. Come to think of it, maybe she did.

I'm clearly not about to start a career as a stand-up comedian but the fact that I was still making jokes, no matter how bad, was a sign that at least my mind was still in a somewhat positive frame of mind, despite what I had been through that night and what was undoubtedly still ahead of me.

When I started to suffer after only 3 hours I knew perfectly well that this was going to be a very long, very tough, very painful day and that the end result was going to be distinctly underwhelming. But the idea of stepping off the track never even crossed my mind. I knew I was going to keep moving for as long as I could, even when it was at a snail's pace. Stupid? Maybe. Probably! But that's the way I'm wired.

I had spent about 8 hours during the first half descending deeper and deeper into the mire when my energy levels kept plummeting. At times I thought I must have been more exhausted than ever before but then I remembered that I was still able to run, which had not been the case in the late stages of last year's Spartathlon, so that must have been worse and I merely had forgotten how bad it had been. Then I had 6 or 7 hours of doing reasonably paced laps, 4 at a time, interspersed by those physio appointment. It was during that time that I made some modest progress through the field, moving from 80th to 60th position. However, after 18 or 19 hours, that came to an end as well.

Every single time when getting off that chair I felt very stiff. It took a while to get going again. I always had to walk for a minute or two, until my legs were able to turn properly again and I started jogging. But then, with a few hours still to go, there came the point when the legs simply no longer complied and that was that. From that point on all I could do was walk.

Of course I tried to force the issue a few times. I made myself run but all I achieved was to almost make me fall over as the legs put in some uncoordinated steps, wobbling all over the place and not getting me anywhere, so eventually I accepted my fate and resolved to walk. That wasn't without challenges either, due to sheer exhaustion I felt like collapsing on more than one occasions. I had trouble focusing, my vision got blurry at times and even the slightest uneven feature in the road had me stumbling at times, though thankfully the course was in very good condition overall, very flat and mostly smooth. Somehow I manged to stay on my feet without a single face plant, though it was close on a few occasions.

The Irish runners all seemed to be moving well, which was good to see, but Amy Masner was moving particularly well. She is amazing. She is able to keep her pace going for just about forever and even when she clearly started to suffer she still put in a major shift. She would end up inside the top-20, a great championship debut and I'm sure there is more to come. Well done! She put the rest of us to shame!

I also had some nice chats with the British contingent, Debbie and Marco but even Dan Lawson gave me the occasional shout while steaming his way to a European championship (!!!). The funniest exchanges, however, happened with Robbie Britton who unfailingly kept calling me "Thomas, Number One". Initially I wondered if he was simply taking the piss but quickly decided to take it as a fun game and encouragement. I was sorry to see his race curtailed, the heavily bandaged knee giving a hint to his problem. By the way, my own knee, which had been a source of worry beforehand, never bothered me in the slightest today. Shame about the rest of that leg!

Obviously I also had a few chats with my Austrian team mates, though they all went through their own issues. Before the race we all had been optimistic and looking forward to the race but somehow we collectively seemed to be hit by a series of individual disasters. Only one of us got close to his PB, another one had a still somewhat reasonable race and the entire rest of the team basically had a disaster. Not a good day for us.

Anyway, I kept ticking along, trying not to fall over and willing the time to pass. It was still pitch dark at 7 o'clock and only with about 2 hours to go did it get bright, which did help because I seemed to wobble less from then on.

Actually, the last couple of hours seemed to pass quickly. I was surprised when I looked up at the clock and realised that we only had half an hour to go.

European Champion and new European record
holder Maria Jansson. She was just magnificent!

Last year in Turin I had ended up 3 meters behind one runner from Japan and 10 meters behind one from the Czech Republic. Just that tiny amount of extra distance would have seen me finish two places higher in the World Championship. Granted, coming 58th or 60th does not make a difference to anyone but me personally, but I resolved that this would never happen again and I would spend the last half hour squeezing the very last ounce of energy out of myself. If anyone happened to finish a single step ahead of me at least I wanted to know that I had tried my hardest to make up that step. With that in mind, I made myself run again. The brain had obviously gotten the message that we were reasonably close to the finish and actually allowed me to run, which was a nice change to all the failed attempts earlier. All of a sudden I was moving well again, though it sure hurt like hell. The first 10 minutes or so passed quickly but then I was back at the very bottom of the pain cave once more and every step was a challenge. The minutes seemed to pass increasing slowly and with about 5 minutes left I wondered if I had misjudged this once more, but thankfully I somehow made it to the end, the final signal coming as a big relief.

The elation of finally being able to stop moving was overshadowed by a deep disappointment, I cannot deny that. Of all the races I had done, the one where I wore such a highly noticeable bib number had to be the one where I performed at my worst! At the end I had accumulated 189.045 km, a personal worst by almost 14 km, and the first time I had failed to break 200k, and by quite some margin. On the plus side I have the knowledge that I never gave up even when I knew that this was going to be a very long day with very little reward at the end, so at least mentally I performed well.

I will take my time to make any decision on what to do next. I will let myself rest for longer than ever before and try to recover physically and mentally, and eventually I'll come up with a plan. But right now I'm not a sportsman, so excuse me, there's a can of beer or two waiting for me.

22 and 23 Oct

2016 European Championships in Albi, France

189.045 km, 12:16 pace

63rd place

They Can't All Go To Plan

My final result was 189 km. I felt absolutely exhausted after 3 hours and knew then it was going to be a brutal fight all the way to the end. Then I got hit by cramps and the only way to treat them was to have a massage every 4 laps. I must have spent about 2 hours with the physio, in which case 189 k was the absolute max.

I need to do some soul searching now. I think I need a complete rest from running for a while.

189.045k / 63rd place

In Albi

One day I will tell my grandchildren that I was the number one runner in a European Championship!

Live Updates from 21st IAU 24 Hour European Championships

There will be live updates from the 21st IAU 24 Hour European Championships.  

There will be Live timing on: www.breizhchrono.com (and click on Live)

We will carry Live Updates on our website (www.iau-ultramarathon.org)

Also on Twitter (@iaunews). 

Off I Go

For anyone looking to follow the race online, this page looks like it will contain the results. I have no idea if there will be a live tracker, though:

http://www.albi24h.fr/resultats-final-championnat-de-france-et-course-open/

There might be something on the IAU website, as there had been in Turin. There is a preview of the race up there already, where one of my Austrian teammates as well as two Irish runners are getting a name check.

As for what was left of training, I rested on Monday, ran 7 easy miles on Tuesday at initial 24-hours race effort, and another 7 on Wednesday, this time with 2 miles at marathon effort, with the same usual caveat that I have no idea what my present marathon time would be, so as always I ended up running entirely by feel. That's is a bit tricky for marathon pace because 2 miles at marathon pace are just going to feel rather easy, so in the end I ran too easy because even at the most pessimistic outlook my marathon pace had not deteriorated to 7:57 pace!

I found Robert's comment on my last post rather enlightening. I had stated that I felt undertrained and he reminded me of the brutal back-to-back runs my coach had made me do. To be honest, I had kind of forgotten about those already. I had looked at the weekly mileages and was struck by how low they had been compared to what I would usually have done. I guess that's something to cling to - I don't like that terminology but this time there was an element of quality over quantity that was new to my training.

And that's that. I'll drive to Dublin tonight, catch an early flight on Thursday morning and will be in Albi shortly after lunchtime.

The race will start on Saturday 10 am local time, which is 9 am here in Ireland. I'm officially a nervous wreck already.

P.S. Apparently my race number will be 1!

18 Oct

7 miles, 1:06:12, 9:27 pace, HR 131

19 Oct

7 miles, 1:01:08, 8:43 pace, HR 139

   with 2 miles @ 7:57 (HR 149)

T Minus 6

And so we go into the last week before the Euros. To be honest, I think this training cycle has been a little bit too short for me. It took me a long time to shake off the worsts effect of Belfast. I suspect the concrete surface there has done a number on my leg muscles. The subsequent training was interrupted by a succession of little niggles, never anything serious but it all added up to the fact that I now feel undertrained.

I guess I'll put the theory to the test that you don't need much base training once you have accumulated a certain number of miles and years. It's very hard to predict what I'm capable of in Albi because the training has been so different to anything I've done before. When I look at my pace / heart rate numbers I get nervous because those numbers do look awful. On the other hand, running at 24 hour race pace feels very natural to me now, which has to count on something. With some input from the coach regarding pacing strategy and nutrition I might be able to squeeze some extra improvements out of me, so let's see.

I'm definitely looking forward to putting on the white top with red stripes again. It is an incredible honour to be picked to represent your country at international championships; this will never get old.

Obviously training is only ticking over now. Friday was remarkable inasmuch as it was the first run where I did not feel my knee at all. Unfortunately on Saturday morning I bent down to pet our dog and must have done the same thing to it once more because I've felt it again ever since, though at a much lesser degree. It does support my theory that I hurt it originally by bending down repeatedly in Tralee, but it also means that it is slow to heal and won't be 100% by Saturday. It is what it is; since running doesn't seem to aggravate it I just have to hope that the same will still hold when running for well over 100 miles.

Anyway, the knee held up just fine on Saturday, including when I did some strides, and it did not stop me from feeling really good on Sunday's 13 mile run. This was the first run in the entire training cycle where I felt like effortlessly floating along. A bit late it may be but that's not a bad state to get into one week before race day.

14 Oct

5+ miles, 47:35, 9:25 pace, HR 131

15 Oct

6 miles, 54:22, 9:03 pace, HR 136

   with strides

16 Oct

13 miles, 1:50:01, 8:27 pace, HR 143

Golden Oldies

First of all, massive congratulations to my mate Svein Tuft on yet another world championship medal, proving once more that age is just a number, not a limiter - something I am very keen to remind myself of from time to time.

Equally big congratulations go to Dave Brady on completing his 600th marathon. If you have run a handful of marathons in Ireland it is absolutely inevitable that you have run into Dave, who also happens to be an even better gentleman than runner.

Back on my home patch, training is tapering obviously. The knee has settled down well enough. It's gotten to the stage where I generally don't feel it any more but on a couple of occasions when running I can just about get the slightest hint of an issue and during my yoga class on Monday I found it impossible to sit on my knees (so I didn't). My yoga teacher thinks it could actually be the hamstrings rather than the knee itself, though I have no way to be certain. Anyway, I'm increasingly optimistic that it won't be an issue in Albi - apart from the interruption to my training.

The coach wants me to rest on Monday but since I hadn't done any training that would require resting from I decided to head out anyway. I took our new dog, a beautiful and very well behaved Labrador, out for a run but it turns out her stamina needs work - she got tired very quickly (and I was running exceptionally slowly even by my recent standards!) and was knackered when I brought her back home after just a mile.

Tuesday and Wednesday were very easy, and Thursday I did one last speed workout, 9 days from Albi, which is pretty standard stuff. The plan said 3 times 5 minutes at 10k effort, which is a mellow enough workout, the biggest problem being not having a clue what my 10k pace is at the moment. I settled at 6:30-6:40 pace, but then again I ran the workout entirely on feel rather than looking at the watch, so I'm not sure why I even bothered to think about the pace beforehand.

The most important thing is, the knee behaved fine throughout. I very slightly felt it on two occasions but that's it, and I'm happy about that. The other details are that I ran 6:53 / 6:34 / 6:42 pace respectively. That's rather uneven pacing but my reasoning is that the first one is almost always slow as I'm still warming up (despite running over 3 miles of actual warm-up in this case) and the third one contained a 180-degree turn, which inevitably slowed me down. Or maybe that's just an excuse. It doesn't matter, training is done now and all that's left is wait until race day arrives (well, that and preparing mentally and finalising the race plan and actually getting myself to France ...)

10 Oct

3+ miles, 31:54, 9:58 pace, HR 127

11 Oct

7 miles, 1:06:30, 9:30 pace, HR 137

   with strides

12 Oct

4 miles, 38:28, 9:30 pace, HR 132

13 Oct

8 miles, 1:04:08, 8:01 pace, HR 151

   3 x 5 min @ 6:52, 6:34, 6:42

The Long Weekend

In normal times, a long weekend for me would signify a long run. Not now. This is taper time and like virtually every runner I hate taper time. The long weekend means waiting for the hours to pass, not really knowing what to do with myself. The options are limited as I'm supposed to get as much rest and recovery as possible. With my dodgy knee enforcing an extra long taper this is even worse than usual; I feel tapered already but I've still go another two weeks of this ahead of me.

I also hate the break in the Premier League schedule. This might be really weird for someone presently preparing for an international competition to say but I hate international football, with all the ugly nationalism that it can produce; I have seen some pretty ugly scenes in my time in England and heard otherwise rational and perfectly balanced people making some hair raising statements; going to a club match I never saw any of that nonsense, one visit to Millwall being the notable exception.

Anyway, while I'm whiling away the time I take a look at my schedule and scratching my head why the coach put on a rest day for tomorrow. I haven't done anything recently that would require a rest day! I can't even ask her because she herself is off-grid on a running camp!

I'm really watching my food intake now; I have completely gone off processed sugar once more, which is a highly effective way to shed some pounds without impacting on training and I'm down about 3 pounds already. Another 2 or 3 before Albi would be good, that would put me down to what I regard as my ideal racing weight, below 145 pounds / 65.5 kg / 10st5.

On the short occasions when I'm out running I marvel how natural 9:30 pace has started to feel. I can't even tell if that's a good thing or not. Should I be happy that I am used to running at the pace I will try and hold for many, many hours in Albi, or should I be worried that my natural pace has deteriorated by 2 minutes? I guess I'll find out in France. In the meantime I keep shuffling along, maybe squeeze in one more workout, and mentally steel myself for running in circle for a whole day and night in the company of Europe's best ultra runners.

The knee, you ask? That's 98% fine. I can feel it on the downhills but that's it.

7 Oct

6 miles, 56:25, 9:24 pace, HR 129

8 Oct

5+ miles, 47:25, 9:23 pace, HR 131

9 Oct

10 miles, 1:33:12, 9:19 pace, HR 133

Getting Over It

Whatever I did to my knee, by last Friday it was already a lot better. To be honest, left to my own devices I would have tried running through it but the coach wasn't having any of that and cut the training right back, which, to be honest, makes a lot more sense so close to the Euros.

Running does not seem to aggravate the knee. However, as it turns out, sitting in a car for 4 hours, driving to Dublin, did. I was feeling rather stiff again on Saturday, and the journey home on Sunday evening wasn't exactly great for it either, so by Monday morning I felt almost back to zero. However, it wasn't quite as bad and it improved markedly day by day. On Wednesday I felt courageous enough to do some strides, more to test the knee than anything else. The stiffness was clearly noticeable when running fast and even more pronounced when decelerating after the strides. But I did not feel any repercussions afterwards and by Thursday morning the only time I felt something slightly off was when running downhill.

I know of course that the issue was caused by running but strangely enough, running then did not seem to aggravate it, Sitting did, in the office chair and even more so in the car. What helped was compression and icing, which I probably should have started earlier rather than waiting for a week. By now this has 98% cleared up and I'd love the coach to put on some miles again in the training plan, though she has given me a bit of leeway anyway.

With the Euros in 2 weeks there isn't much training I can do at this stage, I know that. I am looking at it as a rather long taper and you never know, that might be a good thing anyway.

3 Oct

0

4 Oct

5+ miles, 49:24, 9:46 pace, HR 131

5 Oct

5+ miles, 48:48, 9:39 pace, HR 134

   with strides

6 Oct

4 miles, 38:35, 9:38 pace, HR 131

The Knee

When I first realised that this knee issue wasn't just going away overnight, I almost had a meltdown. I like to think of myself as a rather grounded and rational person but the thought of an injury 4 weeks before the Euros was a bit too much to bear. Even in the best case scenario I would be missing a good chunk of training and the last thing I wanted was to start yet another ultra in sub-optimal shape.

Anyway, by Thursday morning I knew this was already getting better and the coach told me to keep running, albeit at a much lower mileage than originally planned. The workouts last week were all scrapped and replaced with a few miles of easy running. I looked at the bright side and reckoned it was a good way to dial into 24 hrs pace.

As far as I can tell, running does not aggravate the injury, at least not running at low intensity for an hour or less. The knee feels a bit stiff at the start but settles after a while and there is no additional stiffness afterwards. However, as it turns out, there is one thing that does aggravate the stiffness, and that is sitting in a car for 4 hours when driving to Dublin. That's what I had to do on Saturday morning and when I got to Dublin it felt quite bad again, I did a run to shake out the legs and bought another knee strap in Dublin, and the next day it was fine again. I made sure to wear my knee strap on the drive back home on Sunday evening and that went much better,

The big news is that I think I know what caused the problem in the first place! When I ran the marathon in Tralee last Saturday, I did not have a table for my nutrition so I simply placed it all on the ground, That meant that I had to bend over to the ground almost every 2 laps, about 15 times in all, while running a marathon. My best guess is that this put a bit too much pressure on the knees. I almost got away with it but running for 3 hours on Sunday obviously proved to be too much.

There's nothing I can do to change it but it's a case of lesson learned. Obviously there is no way to be 100% sure that my theory is correct but I'm reasonably certain. It would mean there is no big underlying problem like weak hamstrings or a wrong gait, which comes as a relief. With the knee improving steadily left on my own devices I would ramp up the mileage a lot more but the coach is much more cautious. It basically means I'm on a 4 week taper, which is unlikely to be a big problem. The Euros are most definitely still on!

30 Sep

4 miles, 39:23, 9:50 pace, HR 131

31 Sep

3+ miles, 28:56, 9:18 pace, HR 131

1 Oct

6 miles, 54:29, 9:03 pace, HR 135

2 Oct

8 miles, 1:11:58, 8:58 pace, HR 133

Setback

Photo by Peter Murphy

When I finished Sunday's long run I thought I had gotten through the most brutal set of training I had ever done completely unscathed. I knew there were still a few tough workouts left but I felt the back of it was broken and the taper was getting close.

Just then, during Sunday evening, my right knee started to stiffen up. It did not hurt, and since Monday was a rest day I just hoped that things would clear up over the next 36 hours. Well, unfortunately they did not. If anything, the knee got worse during Monday. I think sitting in the office chair did not do it any favours (I sure have experienced that before). Any time I got up from my chair my knee felt very stiff, but it did loosen up somewhat after a minute of walking around.

It did not hurt as such. It just felt very stiff. But I find any issues related to the knee scary, so I was freaked out about it. I have certainly run through much worse pain and gotten away with it (expect for the one time when I did not get away with it), but with 4 weeks to go until the Euros I certainly wanted to err on the side of caution.

Probably my favourite photo from Tralee
Photo by Peter Murphy

When I got home I put on a knee strap. It immediately felt better, which made me question how much of it was psychological. I had a Yoga class that evening, and after consulting with my Yoga teacher I went ahead and got through it just fine.

I could not tell if it was any better on Tuesday morning but I binned the run. I did my usual dynamic stretching exercises (usual since I got the coach that is) and when doing lunges there was a tiny bit of discomfort when the right leg was bent, maybe 1 or 2 out of 10. Single leg squats on the right leg hurt more (3 or 4 out of 10) so I stopped immediately, not because the pain was bad but because I did not want to take any risks.

Googling symptoms can be a bad idea but it seems to match patellofemoral pain syndrome, though that is a bit of an umbrella term for various knee issues and not overly helpful (apart from the advice to rest or at least cut back, which is pretty much universal).

The coach advised me to go for a test run on Wednesday morning because full rest can often be counterproductive to healing (something I have found to be true on many occasions, even if it is counter-intuitive). As soon as I woke on Wednesday morning I noticed that the knee felt better, which pretty much made my day already. I did the same dynamic stretching exercises again and this time got through the entire set without discomfort.

Photo by Peter Murphy

However, running wasn't quite so straightforward. While the knee did not hurt as such, it was definitely not quite right. But things did get better as the run went on and there was no discomfort afterwards, which I take as a very positive result - I sure would gladly have accepted such an outcome before the run. In general I felt really stiff, awkward and unfit in this run, which is a bit weird after only 2 days of no running.

It looks like I'm in for an extended taper after all. The last few hard-ish workouts that had been planned for this week are off the table and there won't be time to do them, which basically means that the hard training is over and done with. Now it is a question of getting to the start line uninjured but after today I am feeling rather optimistic about that - a lot more so that I would have been yesterday.

Apart from that, I want to wish all the best to Anto, Rolando, Billy, Keith, Vilnis, Eoin, Bob, Pam, Harald, Andreas, Sung and every other runner in this year's Spartathlon. I really wish I would be there with you, guys!

26 Sep

0 (planned rest day)

27 Sep

0 (knee issues)

28 Sep

3+ miles, 30:23, 9:46 pace, HR 131

Back-To-Back

I've been quite lucky this time round with races a just the right time when I needed them. Last week the coach wanted me to run 40 miles and the Glen of Aherlow ultra saved me from having to trot on my own for hours and hours on end, and this Saturday the Kerry 24 hrs Endurance run saved me from a familiar situation. In fact, I had been quite disappointed that I would not be able to take part in this race; a 24 hours race here in Kerry seemed to be too good to miss but the European Championships do beat that and 4 weeks would not nearly have been enough to recover. I am therefore very grateful for the RD, Marcus Howlett, to offer me an entry. I made sure he would not mind if I stepped off after a marathon (the last thing I would have wanted was for him to think I disrespected this race) and was nominally put into the 6-hour race.

There were many familiar faces in Tralee town park, many local runner who would otherwise never have contemplated running a 24 hrs race took the opportunity to take part - it was very much a case of build it and they'll come. It all started with very little fuss and at 12 o'clock we all set off - at a rather leisurely pace.

My plan was to test out as much as I could in realistic race conditions. Therefore I was wearing the same gear I am planning to use in Albi, I was having the same nutrition and following a nutrition plan for a 24 hrs race and I ran at the same effort level I am planning to use in Albi. Basically, I was running the first 4 hours of a 24 hours race. That is, admittedly, very much the easy part.

I set off at basically 4-hour marathon pace because that's a pace I am very comfortable with and can hold for a lot of hours (not 24 though!). I also wore a HR that settled in around the 135 mark, and after that I paid no more attention to either HR or pace and just ran by feel and tried to keep the effort as even as possible. A lap was 0.75 miles, so that makes 4 laps for 3 miles, and 35 laps for the marathon. The distance seemed to match very closely what was displayed on my GPS, so there was no need for me to keep count; just run.

I felt a bit like an impostor. I knew I was going to stroll away happily a few hours later, while the real runner would be close to having to be carried off the track. I tried to ignore that and just, well, run. I ran a few miles with Terence at the start, had a chat with Alex O'Shea (I still can't understand why he's not on the Irish team for Albi even though he has run the standard), also with Mike, David, Fozzy and a few more, and I also made sure to have a few encouraging words with anyone I passed (that didn't entirely work for 4 hours but I did give out plenty of encouragement). My hamstrings felt a bit tight after only a few miles, but coming into this race on the back of probably the toughest few days of training I have ever done that didn't come as a complete surprise and the legs settled nicely as the miles ticked by.

The nutrition plan consisted of taking something every 2 laps, either a drink (tailwind or watered down flat coke) or a small bite (potato or flap jack), which should add up to about 180 calories per hour, just about the maximum you can digest while running. To be honest, even though I have run 4 24 hours races (and a few other very long runs) I have never paid much attention to my race nutrition, always ate whatever I felt like, but that approach seemed to backfire in Belfast in June and I wanted to try and put that on more solid foundations this time with a nutrition spreadsheet and planned calories intake (which will undoubtedly go out of the window after a few hours, I know that). The nutrition bit worked very well, and I am very grateful for John, who was crewing for Aoife, to re-fill my coke bottle when it was empty. The flap jack seemed to sit heavily in my stomach, even though I only ate about  third of it, so I have to be careful with that.

This would have been ground for disqualification in Albi

Keeping track of nutrition was the one thing that kept my mind occupied, apart from that it was just running. My iPod's battery was flat when I put it on (next time maybe bother to check before the start?), but that had the advantage of having to remain a bit more social. I kept very close to 4-hours marathon pace for 18 miles before drifting into slightly faster pace for the last third. The last hour was definitely a bit faster than I would have run in a 24 hours race but I guess I wanted this to be over, especially as the weather got a bit worse with a few rain showers and dropping temperatures.

To be honest, I was a bit worried for the likes of Fozzy and Vinny, who definitely ran a good bit faster than I would have advised (in fact, I did advise them when they had asked) but eventually decided not to say anything as I did not want to put any negativity, or perceived negativity, into their minds. A positive mindset is so important in those long races, I know that better than most.

Anyway, I actually felt better towards the end than I did at the start. With just one lap to go I sped up, partially to have a bit of fun, partially to make sure I did indeed have plenty left in the tank, so I ran the last lap at sub-7 pace, which felt good after almost 4 hours of shuffling. After crossing the line I made sure they had all 35 laps in the computer and then said my good byes to all the runners on the track.

My GPS said 26.74 miles but the official distance for 35 laps is only 26.25; I have no idea where the discrepancy comes from, especially since the laps seemed to track very closely at the start. Either way, this is without a doubt the shortest ultra I'll ever run, and of course I am at the very bottom of the results list - which is fine by me, my race is still 4 weeks away.

I did pay one price for the race. Ever since Belfast, my left big toenail has been very dark and did not look good but it stayed on - last night it finally came off. There was a new one growing underneath the old one but it's still only a third of the way of being a full toe nail, so right now I have a mismatched number of toes and nails (which, incidentally, is a sign of a real runner, as I have been told numerous times).

The weekend wasn't quite over yet. For Sunday the coach had put 18 miles into the program. I did feel a bit tired after my marathon the day before and the legs grumbled a fair amount at the mere thought but I kept thinking of the warriors in Tralee town park who had kept going all through the night while I was snuck up in bed. My right knee hurt a bit but nowhere near enough to serve as an excuse to stay at home, so off I went. The first half mile sucked as badly as expected but the legs settled down surprisingly quickly and then it was just a matter of putting down the head and keep going, ticking off mile after mile until I was done. I had actually expected this run to be the worst run of the entire training cycle but despite the weary legs, that never got any worse, it passed surprisingly quickly.

The only thing that failed was my HRM; the battery had been acting up a few times already, so it did not come as a complete surprise and I already had a replacement battery - at home, so that had to wait until after my return, and I just ran by feel - slowly that is. I got home before 12 o'clock, so I even managed to catch the finish of the 24 hours run on facebook (isn't modern technology amazing!).

Congratulations to the real runners!

22 Sep

6 miles, 54:49, 9:08 pace, HR 134

   with strides

23 Sep

3 miles, 28:28, 9:09 pace, HR 130

24 Sep

26+ miles, 3:57:59, 8:53 pace, HR 146

25 Sep

18 miles, 2:50:43, 9:26 pace

No Rest For The Weary

This is without a shadow of a doubt the toughest period of training I have ever been subjected to. Usually I would make sure I go into an ultra, including one run for training purposes, on well rested legs and would make even more sure to take plenty of recovery days thereafter.

My coach works differently. First she made sure I was going into Aherlow on already slightly tired legs by making me do a speed workout 3 days before the race and 12 miles the day before (and indeed, when I got up on Saturday the first thing I noticed were tired legs - before I ran 40 miles!) and then she kept the pressure on. At first I did have 2 recovery days. I wasn't really planning on running on Sunday, especially with the lousy weather in the morning, but when it turned into a lovely afternoon Niamh and Maia decided to go to Rosbeigh beach and so I joined them and ran for half an hour on the sand in my bare feet.

Monday was a rare off day but the heat was back on Tuesday in the form of yet another speed workout, albeit in reduced form of 5 x 600 repeats. She did give me the option to move it if I did not feel up to it but I guess she knew I usually press on regardless. I did wonder how big the chances of acquiring an injury were, but in situations like that you either trust your coach or you don't, in which case you shouldn't have that person coaching you. Anyway, the paces were a bit more uneven compared to last week, though I ran them all by feel and the effort felt pretty much the same each time. After the fourth repeat I started to suspect that the coach was trying to kill me, and I was pretty sure that one more repeat would violate the rule of always stopping one repeat before you're completely spent but concentrating on running with good form rather than pushing hard got me through that while possibly even keeping to that rule. Which was good, because then I still had to run several miles on tired legs.

After that torture session surely I deserved a break? Nope. A very early morning with 14 miles was on the program for Wednesday, and I'm not sure if I got through it because my internal regulation system has packed up and left in a huff or because my endurance levels are indeed sufficient.

I get two easy days now before another big double header. If I get through that there will be some light at the end of the tunnel.

Oh, and even with the less than ideal timing, I did pass my exam on Monday. :)

18 Sep

3.4 miles, 30:13, 8:53 pace, HR 132

   barefoot

19 Sep

0

20 Sep

9 miles, 1:15:49, 8:25 pace, HR 147

    5 x 600 @ 6:33, 6:15, 6:16, 6:03, 6:16 pace, 70 seconds rest

21 Sep

14 miles, 1:58:00, 8:26 pace, HR 144

It's A Long Way To Tipperary

When the coach put a 40 mile training run onto my schedule, I had nightmare visions of stumbling around the local countryside on my own for hours and hours. Thankfully, I spotted the Glen of Aherlow Ultra race on some calendar, by some miracle on the same weekend that my coach had targeted. Even the coach agreed this was perfect. The race was 39.3 miles over 3 loops, though half and full marathon races were on as well, with a later start.

However, the timing around real-life issues was less than perfect. I'm in the middle of a training course at work that I found much more mentally demanding than expected and I was drained of energy every evening, The exam is on Monday - crikey! Add to that a bout of teenage drama at home and my mind wasn't exactly in the base place.

Getting up at 4am had Niamh worried but for once I decided to follow my own ideas. The drive to Tipperary was fairly uneventful, apart from finding out that the road between Mallow and Mitchelstown was closed and required a detour but thankfully I had a few minutes spare and still arrived on time.

Apart from the long miles ahead of me, I was pretty much out of my comfort zone because this was a trail race and I am very much a road runner! However, the IMRA have a reputation for being open and friendly, though they could do with making information a bit easier to come by. I only found out on Friday night that a rain jacket is required gear no matter what the weather forecast says and in general I found it very hard to get any info about that race.

Never mind, I was there. I had less time than anticipated and jogged half of the mile from the race HQ to the actual start so as not to be late, which was the first time ever I did a warm-up before an ultra.

I was under strict instructions to take it easy, REALLY easy, on the first loop. The race starts straight away with 3 miles of steep climbing. The fast guys took 5 minutes to disappear out of view, after which my competitive instincts realised they were unwelcome today and disappeared entirely (not that I would have had a hope to compete at the front anyway). A couple of looks at the HRM told me unfailingly that I was working much harder than it felt, even when I was genuinely trying to run as slowly as I could, and eventually I joined into everyone else's spirit and walked the steeper parts, though that still had the HR at a higher level than I would have preferred,

On top of the ridge I was in a group of 4. The footing was very tricky for well over 2 miles, which is the part that bad been described as "the awkward section", and yes, it really was awkward. I was glad I was in my trail runners, I don't know if I would have made it through in slippery road runners. After a long while, when we were already wondering why we had not seen any markers for quite some time, we came out to the first aid station at the road crossing and the second part of the loop was much more runnable. I (inadvertently) dropped my companions over the next few rolling miles, passing another aid station and then dropping for a few miles over various different surfaces back towards the finish area. I ran together with Gabhain and Stephen, though the latter pulled away before we go back to the start area.

Photo by the MMRA

We all picked a different strategy for the big climb of the second loop and straight away walked most of it, though my HR was still way over 150! The sun came out and it got actually rather hot, so I was glad I now carried a bottle with me, in contrast to the first loop. I also took on a few extra calories and after a while they must have kicked in because running eventually became much easier and I definitely started to enjoy it a lot more. There was a turn-off towards the right about 4 miles in which I did not remember from the first loop, but wavered between spotting places that looked familiar and thinking that I had not been along this route before. I was pretty sure that things were different this time round when I got to a jeep road that was very runnable, because in the first loop the miles towards the first aid station had been a horrible scramble through muck. This was confirmed when I reached the aid station from the jeep road; I could see the trail where I had emerged from the first time round. I talked to the  guys manning the aid station who thought that I must have take the long way round in the first loop but looking at my GPS I didn't think so. Anyway, they told me to go on and not to worry about it.

The next few miles seemed strangely unfamiliar again, except that this time I was pretty sure I must have run along here before as the markers were so obvious. The legs felt surprisingly good but I still took it very easy, there was no point killing myself in a training run and messing up the training for the Euros. However, I was cruising along at a decent enough pace, even if the HR was still much higher than I would have thought. I eventually caught up with Stephen, a lot later than I would have expected. I told him the same story about that missed turn in the first loop, though dismissed his suggestion that keeping quiet was an option. So when we got to the start area once more, I talked to the officials there. I estimated I had cut off about half a mile, maybe a tad more, though with the awful footing on that section the time difference was probably not that great. I did offer to run an extra out-and-back bit but they eventually told me to just carry on on my third loop and not do anything about it for now, so go onto the third loop I did.

This kept playing on my mind, though I tried to put it away and just get on with the race and actually enjoy it. I'm used to pushing as hard as I can on races, even very scenic ones, which leaves very little scope to actually look around and take in the views, so this made a nice difference (however, the views were not as good as in Kerry - sorry!). The sun was still shining, which would have been an issue had I been racing as it would have provided much scope for suffering, but at my much lower effort today this was much more manageable. It also provided the benefits of somewhat drying out the mucky trail and footing actually became slightly better. The legs did feel the effort of over 30 miles on unaccustomed territory but overall I was feeling better than expected, really. I started passing a lot of runners, though I think they were all marathon runners on their second loop. At the aid station the marshall asked if I was an ultra runner (they kept notes to make sure nobody was missing), while calling the other runner "ordinary", which was a bit harsh - he was still doing a rather tough trail marathon!

I was a bit worried about my shoes - I wasn't 100% sure if they'd fall apart before the finish.

I think my shoes have had it

Catching up with and passing about a dozen runners made for a fun game for the last few miles which passed the time. I was still feeling good, though I started to stumble over rocks with increased frequency, every time just about managing to avoid a fall, close as it was a few times. When that happened after about 35 miles a spasm shot through my calves - I was heading towards cramping territory again, though I only had a few miles left, most of them downhill, so I never had to deal with actual cramps. In fact, when we left the trail for about half a mile on the road I could feel the muscles relax and managed to do some actual running at a decent clip - smelling the barn undoubtedly helped. Then I got to the end, reminded them once more about my missed turn on loop 1 but they told me to just finish and leave it at that.

I just managed to sneak under 7 hours - my slowest 39 mile race by over an hour, though with all the others having been road races that doesn't mean much. The winner, Barry Hartnett, had only taken just over 5 hours - that is just mind boggling, an absolutely outstanding performance!

Yes, I think my shoes have had it

Actually, partially to make up for the lost distance, and partially because the coach had originally written down 40 miles, I jogged the extra mile back from the race finish to the village, which means I got a cool down as well, a first for an ultra. I got a much harsher second cool down as well because the showers only had freezing cold water! They more than made up for that with the delicious post-race beef casserole (I had a second helping) followed by some cheesecake. It's a shame I had to decline the free beer as I was driving straight back home.

Obviously I would have preferred not to have taken a shortcut, accidentally as it was. I find it amazing that all 4 of us in that group missed the markers - of course it meant the first runner missed it and everyone else just followed blindly. The organiser were a lot more relaxed about it than me - I guess because I was not in the running for any prizes it did not matter all that much and I think the IMRA are a more relaxed organisation anyway. Anyway, if you fancy a few hours on lovely trails and excellent organisation, and don't mind getting dirty, this race is well worth checking out.

17 Sep

Glen of Aherlow Ultra

39.3 miles, 6:58:53, 5th place, avg HR 144

Colour Code White

I find it hard to believe but the Euros are only 5 weeks away. That also means that right now I am in the middle of the hardest training weeks, and the schedule certainly reflects that.

Recovery from Dingle marathon went well even if the marathon itself didn't really, and I handled the back-to-back runs last weekend very well, so my basic endurance levels are very good. I had been feeling batter for the last few weeks and recently I noticed some objective numbers finally showing those signs as well. I do maintain a spreadsheet where I log pace and HR and compare that with an expected HR. There are three different colours to visualise the overall level. Ideally you want to be green when building base, white later on and red the weeks before the race. The months since Belfast have provided a consistent block of green - Tuesday's run was the first one since June in white! It certainly is a lot later than I would have expected or hoped, but at least some data points are finally catching up.

Training with the new coach was certainly very different to what I had been doing up to before. That was the intention, of course. I felt I had reached a plateau and was eager to try something new to see if my body would react to a different stimulus. There is a risk involved in that, of course, and positive effects might take longer to be achieved than one would hope for (i.e. it may well take more than one training cycle).

Things aren't just different on an overall level, there are things I would not have done on my own on a more detailed level. Left on my own, I certainly would not have put a 14 miler 4 days after a marathon. Left on my own, I also would not have run a speed workout 3 days before a tough 39 mile trail race, but that's exactly what the coach prescribed.

The speed workout itself provided a dilemma. Putting my 3:30 marathon into a calculator it gave me a 5k pace of 7-minute miles. Surely not! I decided to run the 5x1000 at 5k pace purely by feel, and that's exactly what I ended up doing. Tuning into 5k effort was tough, not having raced a 5k in quite some time. During the second repeat I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish but of course I did.

The paces for the repeats ended up being 6:09, 6:16, 6:19, 6:19, 6:17 with about 1:50 recovery, which I think is surprisingly consistent for a workout done entirely by feel, even if the first one was a bit quick (highly unusual, btw. Normally the first repeat would be the slowest).

Thursday was exceptionally easy, just three miles at recovery effort. Friday will be longer - it's basically part of  a back-to-back with the ultra on Saturday being the second part.

I expect to suffer on Saturday in Aherlow, from the distance, the unaccustomed hills, the fact that I go into it with tired legs already. I guess that's the whole idea! I won't be winning any prizes, that's for sure!

12 Sep

0

13 Sep

6 miles, 55:19, 9:13 pace, HR 129

14 Sep

9 miles, 1:14:57, 8:19 pace, HR 150

   5 x 1000 at 6:09, 6:16, 6:19, 6:19, 6:17 pace (1:50 recovery)

15 Sep

3+ miles, 29:18, 9:27 pace, HR 130

Mental

I was quite surprised to see the legs feeling pretty good on Thursday morning; I would have expected a 14 mile run just 4 days after a marathon to leave its mark but it looks like recovery is going remarkably well, even if the marathon did not.

Nevertheless, the next 2 days were easy recovery days, though as it turns out that wasn't just to get over the previous runs, they were there to get me ready for a bit more work over the weekend.

The weather forecast had been nice for Saturday, the only half-decent day of the week really, though it wasn't quite as nice as hoped early on (it did improve for the afternoon, which was good as the Flavour of Killorglin festival was on that day) but it was manageable all the same. The idea was to run 7 miles at easy pace and 6 at marathon effort. The easy miles passed quickly enough and before I knew it I had to speed up. I realised very quickly that my choice of route had not been ideal as most of the marathon effort miles were right into the headwind, not strong but definitely noticeable. What bothered me more, however, was that my left knee started hurting again at times. I had a few twinges a couple of weeks ago but they went away again, though only temporarily by the looks of it. The knee hurts when running downhill, though tensing the quads before foot strike does solve the problem - however, I do not want to alter my gait for a twinge, that only leads to secondary problems.

Anyway, with about 2 miles to go a group of cyclists went by, then another one, then another one, and I soon realised that I inadvertently had gotten into some cycling event. Not a race, thankfully, so there was no problem. However, for some reason all those cyclist passing me made me forget that I was to remain at marathon effort and those last 2 miles were definitely a bit too quick. I wondered if I would have to pay for that on Sunday.

Afterwards I wondered why I had not taken up the option of running this workout on the Kerry Way trail, when the coach had given me the option (MP pace would have been MP effort instead in that case). I still have no idea why I didn't!

I had been groaning as soon as I saw the workout for Sunday on the training spreadsheet. 18 miles, keep the HR under 136. That kind of mileage at such a slow pace was new territory for me, and I really was not looking forward to hours of slow paced shuffling. However, I did dawn on me that this time round is really my first ever "proper" ultra training cycle. Up to now I have been a marathon runner that also ran ultras. This time round I am definitely an ultra runner. It does explain why faster paced running feels so much more challenging. The hope, obviously, is that slow running will feel easier.

The knee did bother me again at times, though at the moment it is more of a nuisance rather than a real problem but obviously it's a bit of a worry that it might turn into something more serious. The run itself was much more of a mental challenge than a physical one. It was really windy, which is why I ran back-and-forwards to Ard-na-Sidhe a few times where it's a bit more sheltered, though thankfully, and unexpectedly, the rain held off until after my run, which made things a lot more comfortable. The effort felt very easy, even with my indiscretion yesterday. I started getting thirsty at mile 14 and tired at mile 16, which I attributed to low glycogen levels due to running without breakfast and no sustenance during the run either, but by then I was homeward bound anyway.

The first back-to-back weekend went well. There will be more to come.

8 Sep

6 miles, 54:39, 9:06 pace, HR 134

   with strides

9 Sep

5+ miles, 46:35, 9:13 pace, HR 132

10 Sep

13 miles, 1:44:16, 8:01 pace, HR 152

   with 6 miles @ 77:47 (HR 160)

11 Sep

18 miles, 2:49:56, 9:26 pace, HR 134

Time To Get Serious

It sure has taken a while!

It has taken a very long time for my body to shake off the worst of the effects from Belfast, certainly a lot longer than I had hoped. I'm still not 100% recovered but I can feel a big difference, even if that is not yet reflected in the numbers displayed on the watch. However, I know my body very well and I can tell the difference.

While Dingle didn't go quite as well as hoped for, at least recovery is going very well. I did the usual short, slow recovery runs the first 2 days after the marathon but then the mileage took off. A 9 miler 3 days after a marathon was a first for me but with the HR limit at the usual low level it did not pose any problems. I had felt a tiny bit of DOMS on Monday but that was gone again on Tuesday and while the legs certainly weren't particularly sprightly, the distance did not pose any challenges.

It got even more serious on Wednesday with a whopping 14 miles on the program. I guess the coach doesn't intend to let me hang around the last few weeks before the Euros. The very first thing I noticed was how dark it was! It was still pitch black outside when I got up and not much brighter when I started down our driveway, so that felt like being plunged straight into darkest Winter. However, the next thing I could not fail but notice were the fairly high temperatures coupled with sky high humidity, which made for unexpectedly challenging conditions, even at 6 o'clock in the morning,

The plan had been to run 30-45 seconds slower than marathon pace. Even though I had just completed a marathon at 8-minute pace that had felt challenging enough over the last few miles, I was still under the impression that my actual present marathon pace was a bit faster than that, at least on a flatter course, so 8:20-8:30 was the training pace I had in mind. Obviously, that was before taking the conditions into account. Then the legs obviously tried to remind me that said marathon had only been 4 days earlier, all of which added a few extra seconds to the pace. In reality, I never once checked the pace on the watch and ran entirely by feel but I did raise an eyebrow or two when I saw the numbers afterwards. On the plus side, running for 2 hours did not feel particularly challenging, so I'll gladly take that.

There will be more to come.

5 Sep

4 miles, 38:36, 9:39 pace, HR 132

6 Sep

9 miles, 1:24:48, 9:25 pace, HR 132

7 Sep

14 miles, 2:03:26, 8:49 pace, HR 140

A Strange One

I had plenty of time to think about running while driving to Dingle in the Saturday early morning rain. I did rue the fact that yesterday had been such a nice day and marathon day was going to be miserable but that was not my main concern. I knew that with all the changes in my training this was uncharted territory. I had not run a long run at any sort of pace and really did not know what to expect. Then again, the task of sticking with the 3:30 pacers didn't exactly sound overwhelming.

I met Donna before the start, having to apologise for not managing to get to Achill Island the previous weekend, and Aidan, who complained about not featuring prominently enough in the Belfast race report (for the record, he was a super star).

Shiny Happy People at mile 2 - photo by Chris Grayson

We got thoroughly soaked before the start but soon after setting off the rain actually eased and then stopped completely, and eventually even the sun came out. That was an unexpected turn of events, the weather forecast had been miserable, but a welcome one. The scenery in Dingle is absolutely spectacular and it would have been a shame had it remained hidden behind the clouds.

The first few miles just flew by. Chris and Fozzy were the pacers and we chatted pretty much relentlessly, and Chris even had enough spare time to take a few photos along the way. The effort felt ridiculously easy. I know the course very well by now but it made a nice change to be able to enjoy the scenery while jogging along at such a leisurely pace and being able to take it all in. Having run the now sadly defunct ultra 3 times I still associate the road from Dingle with being knackered after running 30 miles including a major mountain pass, and today this was much more enjoyable.

Easy at mile 8 - photo by Chris Grayson

Before I even knew it we were at the halfway point. Invariably, it got a lot more lonely from here on as the majority of runners are finishing here by turning left at Dunquin for the half, and only maybe 1 in 10 keep going straight and up the first proper climb of the day (the preceding ones all being classified as drags - that's my opinion and I stick to it). I had gotten a bit ahead of the pacers here but took it very easy on the uphill until they caught up with me again.

We did notice the wind on the second half. Usually the wind comes from the west and you feel it during the first half but today was one of those rare days when it came from the east, though it was no more than a bit of a breeze. We also kept catching runners that started to feel the miles, as it's bound to happen. I still felt exceptionally comfortable and had to reign myself in on several occasion, often drifting ahead of the pacers without even noticing it.

This got us as all the way to about 19 miles when I was a few seconds ahead of them again, and with the coach having given permission to push on from mile 20 I just kept going, though still not exactly pushing very hard. I did pass a lot of runners on that stretch though, but that was mainly down to them slowing down rather than me speeding up.

Some scenery at mile 14 - photo by Chris Grayson

I still felt comfortable at mile 21 when we turned from the out-and-back section onto the mountain but as soon as I hit the steep climb my calves all of a sudden, and to my utter dismay, started cramping in unison. That's an old problem of mine and I have a lot of practise dealing with it but I had not expected having to deal with it today when the effort and pace had clearly been well below race effort.

I just about managed to nurse the legs along while keeping running uphill and I still passed a few runners here. Only 2 runners passed me - unfortunately those 2 were the 3:30 pacers, the feckers. With the calves setting a clear limit to how fast I was able to go they kept pulling away from me and by the time I finally made it to the top at mile 23 they were far further ahead than I would have liked.

I had hoped that the calves would start playing ball again once I hit the downhill section but unfortunately that did not turn out to be the case. I still had to keep a lid on things and every time I tried pushing just a tiny bit harder a painful spasm told me that I was playing a dangerous game. At least the pacers stopped pulling further ahead but I barely seemed to manage to put a dent into my deficit. Coming down that last pass we have to run down a dead straight road for about 2 miles which can be utterly soul destroying because the end just does not seem to come closer. I checked my watch against the mile markers and tried to work out if I would still make it under 3:30 but started to doubt it, the calves still playing wrecking ball in a synchronised performance.

Thankfully they eventually seemed to be getting the message that I was about to finish and released the clamps, so I even managed to duke it out with another runner for the last quarter mile (I lost - I was never good at sprinting) but was mightily relieved to see the clock still at 3:29 and just a few seconds behind the pacers, who had done a sterling job on a very awkward to pace race course.

Still, having to strain to stay under 3:30 had definitely not been on my script for the day and I wasn't happy. I did not even bother to hang around but went straight for the car and drove home.

I had plenty of time to think about running while driving from Dingle in the Saturday early afternoon rain. I had serious concerns about my level of fitness and what that would mean for the European championships, now only 7 (!!!) weeks away. I did fire off a slightly panicked email to the coach, though she did her best to reassure me, pointing out that neither running at 8-minute miles nor hill work had been on the training program and I would be fine for Albi.

I can only trust her and hope that she's right!

3 Sep

Dingle Marathon

   3:29:46, 8:00 pace, HR 160

4 Sep

4 miles, 38:57, 9:44 pace, HR 133

Maybe

Maybe I should whine more often! It might annoy everyone else but as soon as I got into some serious whinge-and-whine, things suddenly improved!

Ok, so that's a case of counting your chickens before they hatch but right now I;m more hopeful and optimistic than I've been since Belfast.

On Tuesday morning I laced up my shoes and went for a run, like I do virtually every morning. But compared to any run over the last 2 months, this one felt different. Right from the off, the hamstrings felt different. On Sunday the first step felt like I had run 20 miles already. On Tuesday I suddenly felt - well, fresh.

The run was nothing to write home about, 5 easy miles and 2 at marathon pace. That was a bit of an issue as going into the run I wasn't even sure if I would be able to run a marathon at 8-minute pace, having been knocked back quite a few times in training recently. So I ran that segment just be feel and without looking at the watch. Well, what I got was 7:32 pace. 10 days earlier I had tried to run 12 miles at marathon pace and after 2 miles of pretty much the same pace as I did on Tuesday I was already in big trouble. On Tuesday I ran the same pace but could have held it for much longer (if I could have held it for an entire marathon is a different question altogether, of course).

Just looking at the HR data you wouldn't notice a difference from my other training runs - the difference was entirely with how I felt subjectively.

Of course I was immediately prepared to go crazy and aim for a 3:15 marathon this Saturday in Dingle after all but I do have a coach right now, and any coach's main job seems to be to stop me from doing the really stupid stuff. She immediately ordered me to put on the brakes. I am to run the first 20 miles at an easy pace and only if things are still looking bright then am I allowed to pick it up for the last few miles (which include a monster hill, so there won't be much acceleration anyway). And since I just wrote this down here I guess I can't change it now without looking like an idiot (then again, that never bothered me before ...)

Having said that, with Chris and Fozzy being the 3:30 pacers there is no way I can finish behind them. I'd never hear the end of it. I might pretend I'm there to supervise them.

30 Aug

7 miles, 59:02, 8:26 pace, HR 144

   incl 2 miles @ 7:32 pace (HR 157)

31 Aug

0

1 Sep

5 miles, 46:25, 9:17 pace, HR 137

   with strides

2 Sep

4 miles, 36:46, 9:11 pace, HR 133

Reason

I had a reasonably good run on Sunday.

However, the fact that managing 8-minute pace for less than a half marathon without feeling wiped out at the end constitutes a good run isn't a great state of affairs.

At least I managed to pinpoint the problem: it's my hamstrings. They felt off right from the start, everything else felt fine. And things didn't get any worse - be grateful for small mercies.

I have some graphs where I keep plotting pace and HR data. It doesn't make good reading for July and August. In fact, the figures right now are surprisingly similar to what they were like last year - expect that was after missing 6 weeks of training due to injury.

Small mercies? Well, the knee seems to be back in almost full working order. I can feel the occasional twinge but it is not hurting any more, and not at all when I'm running.

I'm whining too much these days - so let's end this on a high. Cian is now in secondary school, City are top of the Premier League and the kids say Mummy should go away more often as weekends are much more fun with just Daddy around (that might be due to the fact that I don't give them a list of things to do before they are allowed on screens, but don't tell Niamh)

26 Aug

5 miles, 45:38, 9:08 pace, HR 133

27 Aug

6+ miles, 50:40, 8:58 pace, HR 138

   incl strides

28 Aug

12 miles, 1:35:56, 8:00 pace, HR 154

29 Aug

6 miles, 54:45, 9:07 pace, HR 132