Slow Down!

Maybe it would have been all different if I had read Mike’s advice before Friday’s long run. Run as slowly as you want, he said, and reward yourself with a few relaxed miles. Unfortunately, I didn’t read those wise words until after I had already completed my 20 miles. My 5-mile splits were (roughly) 40-41-40-45. If you got the impression that I had a hard time on the last loop, you’d be absolutely correct. On the positive side, the temperatures were very moderate and well suited to running. On the negative side, it was raining for all of the 20 miles, just slightly at the beginning, heavily in the middle, and easing up but never stopping towards the end. I was tempted to change socks and shoes half way through, but decided there was no point to it. Within 10 minutes I would have been just as soaked again. After 16 miles, a little devil appeared on my shoulder and whispered into my ear “you’re just 1 mile away from home, if you turn around now, you’ve still got 17 miles, and that’s a lot, isn’t it?” Luckily, a little angel sat on the other shoulder and said “you got up at 4:40 in the morning. If you cut your run short, you have sacrificed an extra 25 minutes of sleep for nothing” That was the clinching argument, and I continued on, as weary as I felt. Was I glad when I finally made it home!

Saturday was rest day, and normally I spend my rest days working in the garden, which usually ends up with me collapsing into bed in the evening due to exhaustion. Luckily it was a rainy day (hurray for rainy weekends!), which meant I spent all day reading and watching telly, as well as having a nap in the afternoon. As a result, I was well rested for today’s tempo run. 2.5 miles warm-up, 5 miles at tempo pace, and 2.5 miles cool-down went all very well, considering the mileage I did during the week. 5 miles of tempo is quite long and I was hanging on towards the end, but managed to finish in decent shape. I also saw another runner on the road, always a welcome sign, but all too rare. I don’t think it was a local though, most likely a tourist on vacation (he certainly chose a nice spot for his run). I wore my pair of Nimbus runners again, and I think we’re slowly getting used to each other.

The kids have been reasonably well behaved recently, so it was only a matter of time until the next …. incident. The boys were having a “tea-party”, which, for some reason, seemed to require a huge amount of water being poured all over their bedroom floor. Thank goodness Lola snitched on them before they could cause any lasting damage, but we still weren’t too pleased. Shea ended up on the naughty spot, but I suspect the ringleader was a certain 2-year old.

Weekly mileage: 68 miles.

28 Jul: 20 miles, 2:46, 8:18 pace
30 Jul: 10 miles, 1:17, 7:42 pace with 5 miles at 7:07 pace

That feeling again

It’s Thursday evening, and I’ve got the usual Thursday evening feeling of dread coming up. Somehow I’m not looking forward to tomorrow’s 20-miler. 20 miles just seems such a long distance, and after running 38 miles in the last 4 days, the legs are a bit weary before I’ve even started my long run.

Jeez, would everyone, including me, stop whinging please. Half of the running blogs I’m reading seem to be full of whinging these days: no mojo, no motivation, too hot, too much pain, too many pounds … Let’s try and remember that we’re in this mostly for fun, and stop all that complaining. I’ll try and fall in line, too.

As for the ultra, I won’t be wasting too much thought on that just yet. No, I don’t know how to train for this. Hal Higdon has a training schedule for a 54-mile ultra, and I’ll get some pointers from that, but I won’t be following the schedule as such. Anyway, I’ve got to run the Dublin marathon first, where I intend to cut a significant chunk off my PR; thus I’m still focusing on the marathon training, and any thoughts of more will be put to the back of my mind for the next 3 months.

Wednesday’s 12 miles went without a hitch, so much so that I haven’t got anything to write about them. All I put into my log was “fine”. Today’s run was a sign that the training is stepping up yet another notch in intensity. Thursdays were always days for a recovery run, together with Tuesday. Not so this week, the easy recovery run has been replaced by an 8-miler with 10x100 strides. I duly followed the schedule, but for some reason I also went out without breakfast, which I’ve never done before for a run longer than 5 miles. I duly felt rather low on energy all the way, though I did manage just fine. After the turnaround point at 4 miles it was time to start the strides. Did I feel like doing them? No, definitely not. Did I do them anyway? Of course I did, and guess what: they weren’t as bad as feared, once I got underway, just like always.

I forgot to mention in my last post, I did wear the disgraced Nimbuses again on Tuesday for the 5 mile recovery run, and this time they felt ok, and my blister from Sunday/Monday is already gone. Maybe we’ll get to love each other after all, eventually.

26 Jul: 12 miles, 1:36, 8:00 pace
27 Jul: 8 miles, 1:06, 8:15 pace, including 10x100 strides

Various Ups and Downs

Andrew tagged me, but I’ve been tagged before. If you still want to know what rocks my world, you can look it up here.

I got a slight shock when I checked my blog this morning and it was turned into gibberish. After regaining my composure I saw that my template was basically gone. I had tried to edit it yesterday, but when I pressed the save button, blogger disconnected on me. I didn’t think much of it, and certainly didn’t expect my blog to be shot to pieces. With an old version of my template on my hard drive and some help of my Firefox cache, I managed to restore it within a few minutes, and I don’t think I lost anything. I wouldn’t think too much about it, but the same thing happened to Robb just a few days ago. I hope it won’t be a recurring event now.

As for running, the training is revving up again after last week’s 55-mile slackerdom. On Monday I managed to crawl out of bed at 5:40 for a quick 13 miles, and today I slept for 8 glorious hours, topped up by a 5-mile recovery run. Not much else to report I’m afraid, apart from the fact that I expected to feel well rested after that sleep, but instead still feel tired. According to Rob, that’s what I’m supposed to feel, so I better stop whining.

I signed up for two races over the weekend. The first one is a half marathon in Blarney, Co. Cork, on September 10. That’s 7 weeks before the Dublin marathon. Ideally I’d prefer a half a bit closer to the marathon, but what can you do. It will still do as race preparation. The second race is next year’s Connemara. It’s not until April 2007, but they expect it to sell out early, and I thought I’d better registrate while there's still time. Thing is, I didn’t sign up for the marathon. No, I didn’t sign up for the half either. I’ll probably bitterly regret this 8 months from now, but I signed up for the 39.3 miles ultra. I didn’t decide on the spur of the moment, I had decided to do this the second I crossed the finish line of the Connemara marathon in March. I just didn’t tell anyone about it, and now it’s too late to turn back. But I still reserve the right to bitterly curse Rob, Olga and Jack from mile 30 onwards.

24 Jul: 13 miles, 1:45, 8:04 pace
25 Jul: 5 miles, 45:58, 9:11 pace

What Did I Do Now?

I don’t know what made me do it, but what’s done is done. Once again I turned what should have been a nice and easy training run into some race against myself, and I didn’t even plan it.

Friday didn’t start too well. I had gone to bed quite early, but woke at 3 am and spent the best part of the next two hours trying to go back to sleep again. When the alarm when off at 5:40, I was less than rested. I fact I was sorely tempted to turn around and go back to sleep, but managed to heave myself out of bed. Once I was out on the road, I felt better and quickly got into the groove. I checked my time after 3.5 miles and was surprised to see that I was doing nearly 8:00 pace. I did slow down for a bit, but my internal pace control unit must have shut down, because within two minutes I was running just as fast again. In fact, I must have gotten faster with each mile, because the next time I checked my watch was at mile 9, and by now it was clear that I was going well below 8:00 pace. I passed our driveway where I had deposited a water bottle, but mindful of what happened two weeks ago, I decided to go on without drinking. Since the legs seemed incapable of going at easy pace, I decided to turn it into a progression run and run the last 5 miles at fairly hard pace. This worked ok until about mile 12, when fatigue finally caught up with me, and from then on I had to push myself to keep the pace going. When I passed the half-marathon mark I checked my time again. The watch said 1:40, which is actually faster than my best racing time, not that I count training runs as an official PR. When I got home one mile later I felt both great for having done such a great run and bad about pushing myself hard when I should have been cruising at an easy aerobic level instead.

Saturday was a rest day, and I finished the week on Sunday with 9 miles, including 10x100 strides. For the first two or three miles my calf muscles felt rather stiff, but they loosened up as the run progressed. The sky was very cloudy, and I felt a few raindrops initially, but half an hour later the sun was blazing down once again and I felt uncomfortably hot. I took off my t-shirt for the last two miles because I felt like I was baking underneath a layer of cotton. I hope none of the neighbours minded. It was also my first run in my new pair of Asics Nimbus. They had felt incredibly comfortable in the shop, so why did they feel like I was accidentally wearing somebody else’s pair as soon as I hit the road? In fact, I felt a blister developing on my right heel towards the end of the run. I might just about have gotten away with it, but it might still come out tomorrow. For the time being, the shoes are in disgrace at the back of the cabinet. I’ll probably use them again for a shorter run next week and hope that they magically start fitting my feet.

Weekly mileage: 55 miles (not 56 as mistakenly stated two posts ago)

21 Jul: 14 miles, 1:47, 7:38 pace
23 Jul: 9 miles, 1:12, 8:00 pace

Beach Bums

The kids certainly enjoyed the fine weather of the last two weeks. Going to the beach every day is not a treat that is too common here in Ireland. You can see them looking across Dingle bay towards the Dingle peninsula.

We’re nearing the end of this particular “heat wave” though. I felt a few raindrops on both of my last two runs, even though it was still warm and sunny on both days. Wednesday started with the usual far-too-early wake-up call at 4:50 am, this time from Cian. He had fallen out of bed, and his crying woke me up. By the time I had walked into his room, he had fallen asleep again, beside his bed. I still picked him up and brought him to our bed. 10 minutes later Lola cried for mummy (she should know by now that crying for mummy at 5 am in the morning isn’t much use). Her problem? The blanket had fallen off. I told her that at the age of 5-and-a-half she really is old enough to pull up the blanket herself, not that she cared. I was just about to fall back asleep when Shea stormed into our room and wanted breakfast. I think I managed about 3 minutes of sleep before the alarm went off and I had to get up for my 11-miler. The run went well enough, even with the lack of sleep I felt less tired than on Monday.

I finally got a full complement of sleep on Thursday. I slept for nearly 8 hours, and the kids were all still asleep by the time I left. The 5-mile recovery run shouldn’t have been too tiring either, so I don’t quite understand why I’m completely knackered today. It might be the accumulated lack of sleep from the last few days, or the humidity, or maybe I’m just having an off day. Whatever the cause, I sure could use some more sleep. Keep your fingers crossed that the kids will be cooperating tonight.

19 Jul: 11 miles, 1:30, 8:10 pace
20 Jul: 5 miles, 46:30, 9:18 pace

Déjà Vu

Picture the scene. Monday morning, 5am. Shea storms into our bedroom. “Daddy. I can’t dream!” “Well, go back to bed then” “No, I don’t dream when I sleep, and I want to see the world!” This might sound weird to you, but we’re used to that kind of thing by now. Unfortunately he didn’t go back to bed, and didn’t shut up until I let him watch a DVD. Obviously this cut my sleep short, and once more I didn’t get the required amount of sleep. I went out for 11 miles, and once again decided to run in the shade. It’s just to hot to run beside Caragh Lake, even at 6 am in the morning the sun seems to be blazing down. The run was ok, but my legs are quite weary, which isn’t particularly surprising after the biggest mileage of my life, and after 12 fairly fast miles on Sunday.

Picture the scene. Tuesday morning, 5am. Shea storms into our bedroom. “Daddy, I …” “Shut up!!!!!” (that was Niamh). Miraculously he did indeed go back to bed this time – for another 30 minutes, then it was once more time for another DVD. Obviously this cut my sleep short, and once more I didn’t get the required amount of sleep. Does that seem like a recurring event? Anyway, I managed to get some more sleep after that, and got up just before 7am to head out for a 5-mile recovery run. This week is a cut-down week of a mere 56 miles, but if I don’t get my sleep I’m afraid it won’t have the desired recovery effect.

The weather is gorgeous at the moment, my mother-in-law would say the sun is splitting the stones, though in Kerry terms that only means temperatures up to 27C/80F. Unfortunately this isn’t going to last, and the forecast for the weekend is rain. Isn’t that great? You’re sweating in the office all day long, and by the time you get the chance to enjoy the sunshine it will be gone!

Ah well.

17 Jul: 11 miles, 1:30, 8:11 pace
18 Jul: 5 miles, 47:15, 9:27 pace

Back home

Things that broke in Nana and Gaga’s house while we were there:

• An old rosary that used to belong to Nana’s granddad (but got fixed again) (culprit: Cian)
  
• A bedside lamp (culprit: me)
  
• A branch of an apple tree (culprit: Uncle Michael)
  
• A door of a kitchen cabinet (culprit: Lola)
  
• A curtain (culprit: unknown)
  
• One bottle of foundation cream poured over a carpet (cleaned again) (culprit: Cian)
  
• One set of scribbles on the wall (mostly cleaned) (culprit: Cian)

Nana said we were allowed to come again, but I think she said that only to get rid of us without fuss.

I managed to run 10 miles on Friday morning before we went back to Kerry. I ran the by now familiar route towards Ballybrack, and even found an old track where I did 4 laps. The middle 5 miles of this run were at tempo pace, about 7:20 – 7:30. Normally this kind of run tends to get easier after two miles, but not this time. I guess this had a lot to do with the 20 or 21 miles just two days earlier. It’s not easy to move the legs at the required speed when they’re as heavy as lead, and I really had to push myself. The fact that there was the usual 1-mile climb towards Stillorgan at the end didn’t help either. I also got the distance slightly wrong again; it was more like 10.5 miles.

After spending some 5 or 6 hours in the car on the journey back, I deserved a rest day on Saturday. Well, rest days on sunny weekends aren’t really rest days. They are gardening days, and usually make me just as tired as a hard run. For some reason I still felt guilty this morning because I felt like I hadn’t run in ages, silly me. Niamh had to go to Killarney with the kids, and I had to help her get them ready, so it wasn’t until 10:30 when I finally managed to start my 12 miles. That wasn’t the best move, considering it was the hottest day of the year so far. I originally planned to run alongside Caragh Lake, but that would have meant 12 miles in the sun, so I decided to run two loops instead, one 7-miles loop towards Killorglin and a 5-mile one to Ard-na-sidhe, where the trees provided plenty of shade. It went rather well, and this run finished my week on 68 miles. Woohoo!

14 Jul: approx. 10.5 miles, 1:21
16 Jul: 12 miles, 1:36, 8:00 pace

Challenges

Guess what the following sequence means: 5:50, 7:00, 5:50, 7:30. No, it’s not the pace of my most recent intervals. It’s the times in the morning when Shea or Cian woke me up this week. So much for sleeping in during your holiday. Each night I’m dead tired at 10 o’clock, but don’t go to bed because I don’t want to be unsociable. I eventually go to bed around midnight (still the first adult to go to sleep) and pray for a lie-in that never materialises. Twice I managed a bit of a snooze during the afternoon, but usually I’m just tired. Which isn’t optimal when you’re still expected to look after your children as well as running the highest mileage of your life.

I was a bit worried about yesterday’s 20 miler. I had, however, a cunning plan on how I would get water during the run. “Honey, why don’t you take the children to Cabinteely Park at around 12 o’clock? Oh, and while you’re at it, can you bring my water bottle along, please?” This worked a treat. After leaving the house at around 10 o’clock (later than planned) I first ran a few miles towards Ballybrack and Killiney, then turned around and got to Cabinteely at the 8 mile point, where I started doing laps around the park. It’s a nice park with a big playground in the middle, and a lap is a bit more than one mile (and it’s quite hilly). I did about 5 or 6 laps until I saw Niamh, Nana and the kids, grabbed my water bottle off them, did two more laps and then headed home to Stillorgan. One thing I hadn’t quite thought through was the mile long climb from Cabinteely to Foxrock, which isn’t very steep, but challenging enough if you already have 18 or 19 miles in your legs. I surprised myself on how strong I still felt and eventually got home after running for nearly 3 hours. I’m quite sure that the distance was closer to 21 miles than 20, let’s call it 20.5 miles. As Zeke said in his last entry, it doesn’t make a difference to the body how many miles you write down in your log.

I felt a bit stiff today but managed some relaxed 5 miles in the morning while all the other adults were still asleep (after being woken by Shea, as usual). Niamh got up when I came home and remarked that I looked like a man who had barely broken sweat. It’s amazing how well I feel after a recovery run these days – I guess it has a lot to do with the fact that I’m much more conscious to keep the effort down to the easy level than I used to be.

I finally managed to sneak off to Mick Dowling's sports shop in Terenure that Liam had recommended, and bought a new pair of shoes (Asics Nimbus, bloody expensive but they felt really comfy), shorts, socks, dumbbells and some recovery drink powder. At that stage I had to leave before I completely bankrupted myself. Niamh now demands to be allowed into a clothes shop. I guess I’m not really in a position to argue against.

We’re driving back to Kerry tomorrow. I hope to be able to run before we leave; I’ve still got to do two runs of double figures before the week is out, and don’t want to do them on Saturday and Sunday.

12 Jul: approx. 20.5 miles, 2:55
13 Jul: approx. 5 miles, 48 mins

Struggling Already

It’s only Tuesday, but I can already see that this is not going to be an easy week. 67 miles in singles on unfamiliar routes is going to be a challenge. And the fact that I’ll spend several hours on Friday in a car on the journey back to Kerry is definitely not going to help.
Monday’s 14 miles left me completely exhausted. I guess I still had some fatigue from Sunday’s 12 miles (and the race on Friday) in my legs, and after 10 miles I started to feel really knackered. I guess the change in diet doesn’t help. Niamh is a vegetarian, and every time I come here my mother-in-law decides to feed her poor suffering husband as much meat as possible. I managed to struggle back home, and just about the first thing I said once I had regained enough breath to speak was to demand a carbohydrate dinner.
Thinking about it, the fact that I run later in the day won’t help either. I’m used to running at 6 am in the morning, and at 9 o’clock it is a lot warmer. Running along busy roads and inhaling tons of car exhaust fumes, at least until I reach the cycling path, isn’t exactly the ideal running environment either. I guess I’m spoilt in Kerry.

I did 6 easy miles today, and felt much better (and the pasta last night went down a treat). Running 20 miles tomorrow will be a challenge. I’ll have to work out a way to get some water along the way, and I’m undecided on the route. I could run from Stillorgan towards Dalkey and Killiney, or I could do a few laps inside Cabinteely Park, or I could combine those routes. As I’m running for time, the exact distance won’t matter that much; I know my pace and it should be reasonably accurate – as long as I manage to stay on my feet for the required time.

And now for something completely different. Am I the only one who was distinctly underwhelmed by the football on display during the World Cup? The fact that Italy won it despite a rather unconvincing and uninspiring display in the final was rather fitting, I suppose. When Germany are playing the most attractive football it doesn’t speak much for the other teams’ approaches. Argentina were sublime for the first 2 games, but completely lost their nerve once the knock-out stages started, and Brazil were at their worst in living memory. The fact that the supposedly best player in the world, Ronaldinho, had a tournament to forget, and the actual best player, Zidane, was sent off for an ugly foul in the final just underlined the disappointment. Now I’ll have to wait another 4 years to see some decent football – it better be worth the wait.

10 Jul: approx. 14 miles, 1:56
11 Jul: approx. 6 miles, 55 mins

Back in the Big Smoke

The basking in glory after Friday’s race didn’t last too long. Saturday morning I had to sneak out early to get 5 miles of recovery run under my belt, because as soon as I came back I had to pack my bags and we drove to Dublin. The roads very extremely busy and it took us an hour longer than expected. Long hours in the car always play havoc with my legs, and I felt stiff as a plank by the time we got to Nana’s and Gaga’s house. The fact that it was the day after a race didn’t help matters. Nana and Gaga had spent a few hours trying to make their house Cian-proof, but were only partially successful. Ever since Cian scratched one of Nana’s DVDs on their last visit to Kerry, they are more aware of his destructive streak. He still managed to grab a few beauty products and smear them all over the bathroom mirror when everyone thought he was asleep, but so far that’s the only time he managed to escape the watchful eyes.

I managed to get in a decent run today. Running in Dublin always means running by time rather than miles for me, because I don’t really know the distances here, and I’m too skint to waste my money on toys like a Garmin or a new Polar pod. I was planning on 12 miles, but probably did a bit more than that, and was hampered by the very windy conditions. I’m sure you’re all familiar with the scene. You head out, and for a few miles running seems very easy and you think you’re feeling really good. Then you reach the turnaround point and realise that the second leg of the journey will be against the blustering headwind. I managed to push through that, and I managed to do 10x100 strides as well, to finish the week on about 64 miles. I had sacrificed a rest day for an extra recovery run after Wednesday’s 19 miler, and accordingly cut one 10 mile run down to 5 to keep the mileage in line with the plan. This week calls for 67, which will be a bit awkward with the unfamiliar routes and with us travelling back to Kerry on Friday, but at least I don’t have to get up at 4:30 in the morning to run 20 miles before heading to work. I’ve still got some slight pain in my right side, but it’s definitely receding and – most importantly - it doesn’t stop me from running.

8 Jul: 5 miles, 48:10, 9:38 pace
9 Jul: 1:44, approx. 12.5 miles

Killarney 5k

First of all, please accept my apologies for the last entry. I know it wasn’t a pleasant read; thing is, it wasn’t a pleasant run either. I hope there won’t be a repeat performance, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.

Luckily, my stomach calmed down eventually and I dithered if I should run 5 miles on Thursday or not. I eventually decided to run, because my legs usually feel better after a recovery run than after a rest day. This meant that I wouldn’t have any rest before today’s race, but that was ok by me. I’m not focusing on the 5k, and the ongoing marathon training is more important to me.

The race start was at 7:30 pm, and I drove the 20 miles to Killarney after work. When I collected my number the woman asked me what category I’d be in, fun run or competitive. I said something like “well, I’ll run as fast as I can”, after which she put me into the fun run category. Whatever. I saw plenty of people warming up with 40 minutes to go. I didn’t copy them, just did about 10 minutes of warm-up and got to the starting line with about 2 minutes to go.

As soon as the race started, I got into a nice steady rhythm that seemed appropriate. I don’t know really how to run short races. Mike advised me to start slowly and finish strongly, Rob on the other hand just ran a 4-mile race and his strategy was to bust your lungs early on and then hold on for dear life. I settled for something in-between, a pace that I felt I would be able to hold for the next 22 or so minutes. The markers were in km, and I missed the first one. At 2km I checked my time, and it was 8:15. I didn’t have the necessary oxygen supply to my brain to convert that into minutes/mile pace (6:36, maybe I should bring a calculator along for my next race), but I figured that I was doing pretty well. More importantly, I felt good. I also did my usual trick of playing “catch the runner” once the field had settled, and once again I managed to overtake quite a number of them without being overtaken myself. Which is nice. I forgot to check my time at 3km, and at 4km it was around 17:15, which of course meant that I had slowed down a bit. I pushed on again for the last km. The last km was actually the most difficult because the finish is on top of a hill, and any strong finishing kick has to done while running uphill. I like hills, and managed a decent kick to finish in 21:03, which is a PR by 19 seconds. This was totally unexpected. I hadn’t done any speedwork, and I still felt Wednesday’s 19 miles in my legs.

As a result, I’m feeling very pleased and smug right now. Who knows, maybe I would be able to do a sub-20 minutes 5k if I trained for this distance and tapered for races like this. But I won’t, because I don’t fancy doing intervals, and anyway, according to Lydiard, marathon training is the best training for all kinds of shorter distances anyway. Oh, and one more strange thing. I used to think my max HR is 186. After my last 5k, on New Year’s Day, I thought it was 188. Today when I crossed the finish line, the HR monitor said 193! Figure that one out.

There is just one thing bugging me. If I put my 5k time into one of those race calculators, I should be able to run something like 3:24 for a marathon, yet my PR is more than 30 minutes slower than that. That’s annoying for someone who considers himself a marathon runner, even if it’s a rubbish one. Ah well, I guess I’ll have to bust a gut in Dublin 16 weeks from now.

6 Jul: 5 miles, 47:48, 9:33 pace
7 Jul: approx. 5 miles including warm-up and cool down. 5k race in 21:02, 6:47 pace

Read With Caution

How detailed should I describe today’s events? It depends how much I want to gross you out, I suppose.

After feeling very tired on Monday I made sure to run Tuesday’s recovery run extra easy, and was rewarded with another “lowest heart rate ever” run. This keeps happening, and is a reassurance that I’m not over-training. The legs felt better, and I wasn’t as tired any more. Oh, and I ran without eating breakfast before. I didn’t attempt to copy Mike with his depletion thing, but when the alarm went off at 6:40 I thought “breakfast or another 10 minutes of sleep?” and sleep won hands down.

Since I’m still planning on running the 5k in Killarney on Friday, I moved this week’s long run from Friday to Wednesday. 19 miles is quite long, but it didn’t look too daunting; all my recent long runs have gone very well, and the legs always held up to the end, so I wasn’t too worried.

Things started to fall apart after last night’s dinner. Niamh made some Mexican dish, and the problems are 1) it’s too delicious and I always end up eating too much and 2) the beans. Plus, it’s quite hot in the evenings these days (hot for Ireland that is. The guys and gals from Arizona would be freezing, I suppose), and sleeping at 21C/70F isn’t something I do easily, and I kept waking up. The alarm went off at 4:50, and despite being tempted to stay in bed I got up and got ready to go out. The stomach immediately gave notice that it wasn’t happy (which I blame on the beans), and I had to force the weetabix down my throat. I had to go to the toilet three times (I did warn you, remember?) before I felt brave enough to head out. The first two or three miles were awful, I battled my intestines and was constantly worried about losing it at both ends. Eventually my digestive system settled down and the rest of the initial 10 miles loop was ok, though I was running a tad slower than usual. I was rewarded with a stunning sunrise; the sun appeared to be bright red and illuminated the few clouds in amazing orange/pink/red shades. Anyway, I passed our driveway and picked up a water bottle that I had deposited there. As soon as I took a few swigs of water, my stomach woke up again, and this time it was worse. I tried to keep going, but two miles later I had to compromise and squat beside the road to get rid of the dead weight inside (you had been warned). After that I felt better for a few more miles, and until the 17.5 miles point it was ok. Then the stomach cramps returned with a vengeance, I nearly threw up once or twice, and the legs felt like lead all of a sudden. Of course at that stage I was on my return leg anyway, and all I could do was keep going, but it was a rather ugly death trot, until I finally made my way back home. Ugh.

I guess this happens to every runner at some stage, and the way I see it, it’s part of the initiation rites. Now all I need to do is lose a toenail, then I’ll finally be a fully paid member of the “real runners” club.

4 Jul: 5 miles, 49:17, 9:51 pace
5 Jul: 19 miles, 2:43, 8:34 pace

Observations

• Runners always tell other runners to take a break
  
• They never take breaks themselves when advised to do so
  
• I seamlessly manage to fit into that category
  
• All the well-meant advice is gratefully received and ungracefully ignored
  
• When the inevitable injury strikes, we’ve all seen it coming from miles away.

Anyway, thanks for all your comments. The fact that I’m not taking a break isn’t meant to be disrespectful. It’s just what you guys and gals are doing as well. The chest pains have subsided by now, the pain in my side is still there but getting better as well. Mike warned me that those pains could have been caused by the extra mileage. I will keep that possibility in mind, but presently I don’t think that is the case.

I finished last week with 10 miles on Sunday (weeks begin on Monday in civilised countries). It was after 9:30 by the time I left the house, and it was already quite hot. As a result I felt a little bit sluggish all the way. However, after about two miles I passed a dirt road going up a hill that I had meant to explore for quite some time. I followed it until it turned into a grass track, and then ended in the middle of a field. I didn’t want to turn around, so I decided to run downhill until I would come back to the road. That was easy enough, but the road access was blocked by a barbed wire fence, and some wobbly stones on the other side. I did manage to climb over the fence and the stones without mishaps, but the last step fooled me. Instead of a small step, it was a drop of a bit more than a meter, and since I always run without specs, I didn’t notice it; well, not until I was unexpectedly airborne, that is. I landed in a heap on the road, both hands bloodied, the right one more so than the left one. Since I’m not running on my hands I decided to continue my run. A driver who had seen my tumble (oh, the embarrassment) inquired if I was ok and commented that it looked like a nasty fall, but I thanked him and assured him I was ok. The best thing about that episode was that I didn’t feel the pain in my right side any more, my new wounds hurt a lot more.

When I got home, the kids were very concerned about me, and when I went running today, Lola dutifully reminded me not to climb over any fences. I will hear this for a few months to come.

Those 10 miles brought my weekly mileage up to 62, my first ever mileage in the 60s. This didn’t lead up to well-deserved rest day, because I started this week with 13 miles today. I felt quite tired to be honest, but I attribute this to the several hours in the garden doing yard work on Sunday. The legs were sluggish, but I didn’t feel particularly exhausted towards the end. There is one concern though; I can feel a bit of a twinge in my left hamstring now. This time I believe you when you say that this pain is running related. I’m running 5 miles recovery tomorrow and will monitor the situation. If it gets worse, I’ll put in an extra rest day. I promise.

2 Jul: 10 miles, 1:29, 8:54 pace (including at least one mile of very hilly cross-country, plus one meter very cleverly gained for free due to gravity assistance. Ahem.)
3 Jul: 13 miles, 1:49, 8:23 pace

Confession Time

Like most runners out there, I didn’t listen to all the well-meant advice of taking it easy and taking a few days off running. I did listen to my body and it said “there’s a pain, but it’s not running-related”, and as a result I decided to resume my normal running schedule.

After taking Thursday off due to continued chest pains, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to handle 18 miles on Friday morning. The distance itself did not worry me; it was the effect it might have on the already aching muscles in my upper body. I ran a few laps around the house on Thursday evening, just to gauge if running would hurt; it didn’t, and I decided to go ahead as planned.

Friday didn’t start very well; I awoke at 4:45 because of a cramp in my right calf. That is a problem I’ve had since my teenage years. I used to wake up with a cramp at least once a month, and more often when it was summer. Taking magnesium tablets has made a big difference, and now I get those cramps maybe twice a year. Unfortunately, Friday morning was one of those. I already know from experience that this doesn’t have any real effect on my run. I can manage even long runs straight after those cramps. It means I will feel some after-effect in my calf muscle, but it doesn’t worsen even after a lot of miles.

When I did start running, I once again felt that pain in my left chest, but nowhere near as bad as on Wednesday. Additionally, there was a pain in my left side. At first I though it was a side-stitch, but it didn’t go away even after slowing down and exhaling consciously, and eventually I decided it must be a muscle pain, most likely caused by some change in my running form on Wednesday. To top it up, my right foot hurt as well. This may or may not be plantar fasciitis, and it’s something that I’ve had on and off over the last year. A new pair of shoes has always solved the problem, and since I’ve just started on a new pair, I’m optimistic that this will solve the problem once again.

After all the drama two days earlier, the long run on Friday itself was rather unremarkable. I ran at a slightly more leisurely pace than the one I’ve done most of my recent long runs at, and the distance itself was not a problem. I really must be in decent shape at the moment, because I didn’t really feel fatigued at all, not even towards the end. Is that the “pleasantly tired” state that you’re supposed to feel once you’re getting very fit? Whatever it is, I’m very happy with the way the run went. In fact, it felt so good that I decided to head out for 6 miles on Saturday morning to make up for the lost day on Thursday. I know that you should never try to catch up on missed workouts, but in effect I just swapped around one rest and one recovery day. Once again, my left chest, right side and right foot all hurt a bit, but not enough to be concerned about it. It made it a bit difficult to get into a relaxed stride, but after three miles I felt ok, and that’s when my heart rate dropped into the normal recovery zone as well.

I’m now quite certain that I can continue my normal running schedule as planned. I had done some core strengthening exercises in the last few weeks, and I might have overdone them, thus causing the muscles in my chest to overreact. I’ll stop the core strengthening for a week or two, and then take them up again, but less rigorously.

Oh, and my mileage for June was 248. I don’t even have to check any other months; I know that it’s a new personal record.

Jun 30: 18 miles, 2:29, 8:17 pace
Jul 1: 6 miles, 54:16, 9:02 pace

Unexpected Hurdles

I was determined to follow my resolve and run Wednesday’s 12 miler slower than on Monday. I didn’t know that the choice would be made for me.

First of all, I didn’t get enough sleep. Cian had fallen asleep in the middle of eating dinner at 6pm, and had to be carried into bed. As a result, he was wide awake at 4:45 am, and had no intentions of letting his parents get some extra sleep. Eventually I put on his favourite DVD and at 6 o’clock I headed out for my run. After less than a minute I felt an excruciating pain in my left chest. It was pure torture! I was pretty sure that it wasn’t a heart attack though. I’m 36, healthy and very fit, and people like me don’t get heart attacks, do they? I checked for a few symptoms. Pain in left shoulder? Yes. Cold sweat? Yes, but it was 6 am and I was running. Shortage of breath? No. Tingling sensation in the fingers? No. Panic? No. I decided I wasn’t about to die and carried on in hope that the pain would go away. It didn’t. The faster I ran, the more painful it got. After three miles, when turning onto a dirt road, I felt slightly better, which I put down to the body’s endorphins kicking in, but two miles later, after coming out onto the road again, I realised that it had been the running surface that made the difference; the harder the surface, the more intense the pain. I ran past our driveway after a 7 mile loop, and for some reason decided to explore the fields behind our house. Why did I continue running despite being in agony? I’m not entirely sure myself. I didn’t want to miss a workout, but I knew well enough that a missed run or two 17 weeks before a marathon is hardly a big deal. Probably I just wanted to prove to myself that I could handle the pain. (No, sanity didn’t come into the equation). Anyway, I rather aimlessly ran cross-country through the bog fields, passed one or two illegal building sites (the authorities here are useless), followed various dirt roads that usually ended in the middle of nowhere, and at one stage had to jump over a ditch in order to continue. It was actually fun to leave the road behind and just criss-cross the area. Unfortunately, the pain never stopped. I was on my feet for 1:43, which was 9 minutes longer than on Monday, but at a slower pace, so I decided to call it 11 miles.

The pain still didn’t go away when I was sitting at my desk at work, and I decided to see a doctor after lunchtime. When I mentioned chest pains, she agreed to see me pretty much straight away. After the examination she said that there was nothing wrong with my lungs, there was definitely nothing wrong with my heart, and it must be a muscle related problem. That was actually the diagnosis I had expected already. She prescribed some anti-inflammatory tablets, and said that I might want to stop running for a few days.

When I woke up this morning, I still felt some pain in my left chest and decided not to go running. I lay in bed wide-awake for nearly an hour until I got too bored. I got up, borrowed Niamh’s bike and went cycling for about 40 minutes, which went fine. Now I’m unsure how to proceed. The plan calls for 18 miles tomorrow, but if I feel like yesterday, that’s not an option. I’m tempted to try anyway, but it means getting up at 5 am, and I don’t really want to get up at such an hour without knowing if it will be worth it. I’ll probably decide tonight at the very last moment. Remember, the doctor didn’t tell me to stop running. She said “might”.

Just two days ago I mentioned the possibility of getting injured, but I certainly didn’t expect a problem with some stupid muscle in my chest.

28 Jun: 11 miles, 1:43, 9:17 pace
29 Jun: 8 miles (guess) on the bike, 40 minutes

It’s Doing the Rounds Again

Funny, just the other day I was thinking that it had been a long time since the last meme made the rounds. I must be psychic, because here it is, and Michelle tagged me. Let’s get going then shall we?

4 Jobs I’ve had:

• Barman
  
• Computer programmer
  
• Skiing Instructor
  
• Maths Tutor
  

4 Movies I watch over and over:

• Pulp fiction
  
• Leon
  
• Reservoir Dogs
  
• The Lord of the Rings Trilogy
  

4 Places I have lived:

• Vils, Tyrol, Austria
  
• London, England
  
• Dublin, Ireland
  
• Killorglin, Ireland
  

4 TV shows I watch:

• Lost
  
• Have I got News for you?
  
• The Premiership
  
• Yes, Minister
  

4 Places I’ve been on Vacation:

• Iceland
  
• Lapland
  
• Egypt
  
• Australia
  

4 Websites I visit every day:

• slashdot
  
• bbc
  
• marathonguide
  
• google
  

4 Favourite Foods:

• pasta (any)
  
• Niamh’s pumpkin risotto
  
• Tuscan bread soup
  
• Chowder
  

4 Places I'd rather be right now:

• at home
  
• on the road, running
  
• on a skiing slope
  
• The City of Manchester Stadium
  

4 Favorite Bands/Singers:

• Marilyn Manson
  
• Iron Maiden
  
• Metallica
  
• Nirvana
  

4 Bloggers I'll tag: (but don’t feel obliged!)

• Rob
  
• Liam
  
• Jack
  
• NYFlyGirl
  

I see

According to you guys I’m either on the verge of injury and burnout, or I’m going to set a big PR in Dublin. Actually, I kind of agree with that assessment. When I decided to follow a new training plan that called for an increase in my mileage well beyond a level I’ve done before, I was well aware that doing so could well leave me injured. The possibility of that happening still exists, and only time will tell. Sometimes you have to take a calculated risk, and that’s what I’ve decided to do. If I can’t handle the mileage then I’ll find out soon enough, but I will definitely give it a go.

Mike has pointed out the unusual google ads I’m getting at the top of my page. At the moment it’s all for eczema medication, a few weeks ago it was all about cold medicine, and who knows what they will be serving in future. House insurance? Child minders? Disaster Recovery?

Today is the last day of school before the summer holidays, and Niamh isn’t exactly relishing the prospect of having to look after three children all day every day. It’s difficult enough to look after just Cian (and don’t I know it!), without the added distraction of two lively 5-year olds. I just hope the disaster recovery won’t be necessary for a while.

My right heel is a bit painful at the moment. It doesn’t bother me while running, but it was quite painful last night, and it’s hurting again as I type. I’m quite sure it’s not plantar fasciitis, because the pain is right at the back of my heel. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned injury in your comments, guys. My hope is that a new pair of shoes will cure the problem. It usually does.

I was a bit stupid on yesterday’s 12-mile run. I had expected to feel a bit stiff after Sunday’s tempo run, but instead I felt great. So great that I started an imaginary race against myself between miles 6 and 10, and overdid it a bit. I finally told myself to slow down for the last two miles. Ah well – the weather was nice, the road was clear and I just felt like it. I made sure that today’s 5 miler was a true recovery run, and I promise I’ll run tomorrow’s 12 miles a tad slower.

26 Jun: 12 miles, 1:34, 7:50 pace
27 Jun: 5 miles, 48:37, 9:43 pace

I knew it

It was only a matter of time until someone would start questioning the authenticity of my accounts of Cian’s misdemeanours. Well, I can assure you, I don’t make up anything, and I don’t exaggerate; it is simply not necessary with that boy. His stage of development isn’t called the Terrible Twos for nothing. I vividly remember the time when Lola and Shea were that age. Whenever Gaga would mention the Terrible Twos, I was never sure if he was referring to the twins or merely to their stage of development. However, Cian didn’t cause any significant damage since the last time. He caused a few minor mishaps, like pouring the Calamine lotion into his bath last night, but that’s hardly worth mentioning.

This weekend saw a massive meeting of Harley-Davidson’s in Killarney. Depending on which paper you believe, there were between 5000 and 10000 bikers there. As far as I can tell, the whole weekend passed off entirely peacefully, and all the bikers we saw on the road were driving extremely disciplined. But last night, two of them were killed in a collision with a car less than 10 miles from here. That’s terrible, and Niamh’s first words were that it must have been the car driver’s fault because the bikers were all so well behaved, but of course we don’t know what really happened.

Running seems to be the one topic I’m mentioning the least these days. That’s because there aren’t a lot of worthwhile incidents. I’m slowly increasing my mileage and I’m running more than ever before, and I feel great about it. Well, that isn’t entirely true, one or two days ago I felt a bit of a twinge in my right foot. I guess it’s a sign that my shoes are coming to the end of their useful life. I always alternate two pairs of shoes, and the older pair has nearly 400 miles on them. I guess it’s time for another retirement. Thanks to Cliff, who very generously donated a pair that he didn’t feel comfortable with (thanks again, mate), I already have a replacement ready. I might still get another pair, because I prefer to alternate between two different kinds of shoes, and the two pairs I have lined up are both Asics GT-1110s.

The predicted rain never arrived, and Friday’s 17 miles went without a hitch, as did the 9 miles today, with 4 miles at threshold pace. I think I ran the threshold run a bit too fast three weeks ago, so I slowed down a little bit in comparison. I still felt quite knackered towards the end, but, after all, that’s what you’re supposed to feel after such a workout.

23 Jun: 17.2 miles, 2:20, 8:08 pace
25 Jun: 9 miles, 1:11, 7:53 pace, with 4 miles at 7:20 in the middle

Back to Form

Oh yes, back to form he certainly is. Cian, I’m talking about. Yesterday evening I had to mind the boys on my own, because Niamh took Lola and Grandma to the theatre, and the men stayed behind. While I was giving Shea a bath, Cian found the set of paints that they had been using earlier during the day, and which Grandma, who is not yet wise to his antics, had left within his reach. When it was time to get Shea out of the bath I went “Cian, where are you? Cian? Hello? Cian? Oh there you … OH NO!” He had once again covered the kitchen floor with a thick layer of paint, and there were red marks over the cupboards, the cutlery drawer, the microwave, as well as inside the microwave. In fact, it looked like a murder scene, with red blotches all over the place. I put the boy straight back into the bath, and spent at least half an hour cleaning the kitchen. This is becoming an all-too-frequent ritual.

Eventually I got the boys to bed, by which time I myself was ready to collapse. This parenting stuff isn’t getting any easier.

Oh, and I managed to run as well. 11 miles on Wednesday, and 5 miles today all went well, and I haven’t got anything to report, really. I was lucky with the weather on both occasions, though it is supposed to be raining again for Friday’s 17 miles. Let’s wait and see, I suppose.

Liam asked if I was planning any shorter races. Well, unfortunately Kerry is a complete wasteland as far as road running is concerned, and I don’t fancy driving for hours to take part in some 5-mile race in a different part of the country. One exception is the 5k fun-run which is part of Killarney’s annual summer fest, and which will be on 7 July, which is a Friday evening. Of course I haven’t done any speedwork, and I’m not planning on doing any before the race. I’ll have to swap around my long run for that week, because I’m certainly not going to run 19 miles in the morning and then a 5k race in the evening. I’ll probably do the long run on Wednesday. This will mean I won’t be fully recovered for the race, but that’s ok with me. I’m not gunning for a PR.

21 Jun: 11 miles, 1:29, 8:05 pace
22 Jun: 5 miles, 46:18, 9:15 pace

How was your run?

Shea and Cian are in much better form. They are still covered in spots (Shea much more so than Cian), but they have stopped itching, and we can all breathe a sign of relief. On Sunday night I tickled Shea’s toes when he was in the bath, and he smiled his first smile for at least 5 days, which was wonderful to see again. He also slept for 13 hours last night, even without the help of medication, which he hasn’t done since … ever! And we had to start giving out to him for being naughty, which we didn’t have to for a week. Things are definitely getting back to normal.

Talking about things getting back to normal, the typical Irish weather has returned to Kerry, and it is disgustingly wet and cold. I can take the rain on its own, but the wind makes for awful conditions that I’d rather do without.

When I came home this morning, we had the following short conversation:

Niamh: How was your run?
Thomas: Wet and cold.
Niamh: Not much fun then?
Thomas: Not really.
Niamh: But ultimately worth it?
Thomas: Definitely!

I have nothing to add to that.

19 Jun: 12 miles, 1:38, 8:10 pace
20 Jun: 5 miles, 46:13, 9:26 pace

Sickbay Update

Shea just had the worst 48 hours of his life. He was (still is, actually) covered from head to toe in ugly red blisters, and they are so itchy!! We put Calamine lotion on him, but the only effect that had was to make him scream when we put it on, it didn’t stop the itching. A warm bath with a few teaspoons of bread soda seemed to be the only thing to provide temporary relief. We tried everything to distract him, like watching DVDs, playing games and reading books, but it’s difficult to read a book to a 5-year old when he’s sitting beside you writhing in agony. Finally, he seemed to get better yesterday, and finally managed a few hours of sleep during the day. Niamh gave him some medicine at bedtime, which made him so drowsy that he slept for 12 hours, despite having slept several hours during the day (he did have some catching up to do). Unfortunately the same medicine made Cian throw up at midnight, and we once again had to clean the bed and the boy in the middle of the night.

To add to the stress, I had to drive to Shannon airport to collect my mum and my step-dad, which is a 2 hours drive each way. Long hours in the car always have a bad effect on my legs, and during the first three miles today they felt really stiff and unwilling to move. They got somewhat more responsive when I started doing some strides, and by the end I felt good again. Unfortunately the nice weather has gone just as my mum arrived. I hope the rain won’t last, or they will be confined to the house with two still sick boys for the week.

Watching the world cup is a bit weird this time, because I have no team to cheer on. Neither the country of birth (Austria) nor my adopted home (Ireland) have managed to qualify. Supporting the country where I spent 10 years of my life (England) is utterly out of the question, leaving my grandma’s country (Czech Republic), to which I have no emotional ties whatsoever. Which means I can just watch the games without worrying about my team, and just cheer on whoever is playing attractive football. Argentina are by far the best team so far, but a World Cup is not always won by the team that plays at their best at the start of the tournament.

18 Jun: 7 miles, 58:35, 8:22 pace (with 10x100 strides)

They have arrived

We have been waiting for this, and now the time has come. Both boys are having chickenpox, and both look really bad. They both have spots literally all over their bodies, and I feel so sorry for them! Yet, there is not much we can do about it, apart from telling them not to scratch (how do you explain that to a 2-year-old?) and hoping that it will go away sooner rather than later (plus, giving them drugs).

As a result, neither of us slept a lot last night. Cian came into our bed around midnight, and viciously kicked me into the back a few times, until he decided to go back into his own bed. Sometime in the middle of the night he returned, and at 5am Shea came as well, and that was the end of any hopes of more sleep for me. Cian and Niamh both managed to fall back asleep eventually, and Shea decided at 5:30 that he wanted to watch a DVD, and that's when I managed to sneak out of the house in time for my 13-miler. It went very well, apart from me miscalculating my pace in the middle of it, but that didn’t have any effect on my running.

My mum is coming for a visit tomorrow, though with the boys being sick we won’t be able to do much, which is a pity. She’s staying for a week, and at least the weather is supposed to be nice most of the time. I’m not sure what she will say about my running. She’s worried about me dropping dead when I’m running a marathon, but she seems ok about training runs.

16 Jun: 13 miles, 1:43, 7:55 pace

Not really recovering

If my family would read your comments, they’d laugh for hours. Me and patient? Not really, though I’m much more tolerant with the kids than with anyone else. And my reaction always depends what part of the house Cian is destroying. Somehow I cared a lot less about the floorboards being covered in a thick layer of paint than I did about the DVDs he’s demolished.

I’m in the middle of a recovery week, not that you’d know it from the schedule so far. Yesterday’s 10 miler went very well, apart from a hiatus at mile 4.5, when I turned around and started to head home. It took half a minute for my brain to wake up and realise that this would make it 9 miles rather than 10, and I turned around once more to finish my loop. There was also something weird happening; a car was parked at the side of a road, overlooking a few houses. As soon as the driver saw me coming, he started the motor and sped off. It could be coincidence of course, but somehow I got the feeling that he drove off because he didn’t want to be seen around there.

I ran another 5-mile recovery run today, which was uneventful. Unfortunately, once more I didn’t get enough sleep. This time it wasn’t down to me going to bed too late, but to Shea waking well before 6 o’clock, and keeping me awake. That’s the problem with June. It’s still bright when they go to bed, and it gets bright again well before they are supposed to wake up, and Shea is an early riser anyway. Ah well, I’m sure he’ll sleep until lunchtime once he reaches his teens. Until then, Daddy will have to get used to early interruptions of his sleep.

14 Jun: 10 miles, 1:19, 7:54 pace
15 Jun: 5 miles, 47:51, 9:34 pace

Not much to report

Rob hit the nail on the head in the comments when he said that I never expected to write the words “only 51 miles” all together like that (he also managed to return my slacker jibe from several months ago). Well, I guess it means my running has come along quite a bit in the last year. So far this week doesn’t feel any easier than the previous ones; it’s mainly the long run that will be significantly shorter.

I had to get up early yesterday for my 11 miles run, and still felt very tired. One of my resolutions for this training cycle was to get more sleep. I have improved in that respect, but not enough to be satisfied. It’s just not that easy to go to bed at 10 pm consistently, and even if I manage I usually end up reading a book instead of going to sleep immediately. I guess there is still room for improvement.

My quads are quite sore, which I guess is an after effect of Sunday’s strides workout. I haven’t had such sore legs in a while, and in a typically perverted runner’s way it feels good, because it reminds me that I’m doing a lot of work. I guess the soreness will be gone by tomorrow, I did a slow 5 mile recovery run today, and those runs usually clear up any tiredness in my legs.

Cian delivered yet another masterpiece of destruction the other day. Niamh and I were watching a film and naturally assumed the kids to be asleep peacefully. Not so, Cian must have gotten up very quietly and sneaked into the guest room, where he found a box full of window paint. These are held in little bottles, which he proceeded to squeeze onto the floor one by one. Then he obviously had great fun in mixing all those lovely colours with his hands – and feet. Eventually he decided he had enough and came looking for us and tell us “I made a big mess”. He didn’t exaggerate. I should have taken a picture, because the sheer amount of paint on the floor was quite unbelievable. Niamh took the boy into the shower to scrub him clean, and I did the same with the floorboards. After an hour or so of hard scrubbing the room stopped looking like a war zone, but of course he also left his imprints all over the doors and sinks, and toilets, and anything else, and I doubt we will ever be able to completely remove all those marks. By now we have learned to be rather philosophical about these … incidents. We had to.

I hope Social Services aren’t reading this blog, or they’ll surely pay us a visit.

12 Jun: 11 miles, 1:29, 8:05 pace
13 Jun: 5 miles, 46:32, 9:18 pace

Of Babies and Animals

That’s a picture of Lola and Shea five years ago. Whenever life gets stressful, I think back to that time. While it was extremely exciting to become parents of twins, I have never been as exhausted as for the first 5 months of their lives. There was never a moment to sit down, never more than 90 minutes of sleep in one go. I wonder how we managed it.

Therefore, despite being tired now, I know that I am nowhere near as knackered as I was back then. After 10 days or so of beautiful weather, we had a thunderstorm on Friday night, which really excited the kids. The air since then has been really humid, which really makes me feel tired all day, despite not running (and not doing anything at all really) yesterday. I ran 8 miles today to end the week on 57 miles, yet another record, but the mileage still has to increase by a good bit until I reach the 70 miles peak. I also did 10x100 strides today, which I realised I had always done wrongly. I used to do them with nearly half a mile of recovery pace runs between the fast bits. Well, Mike made me read those paragraphs again in Pfitzinger’s book, and today I did them with short walks/very slow jogs in-between, just enough to get the heart rate and breathing down to normal rates. I have to admit, they did feel differently, and the speed difference between the fast and slow bits was much bigger that way (which is important, according to Kevin Beck’s book). I have to stop taking so much advice from Mike, or he might start charging me coaching fees.

While I was running, a big insect, possibly a bumblebee, flew right into my mouth, but I managed to spit it out straight away. You'd think they'd have more sense than fly straight into someone's mouth! And three dog chased me, one even bit me on the calf, not very painfully, for which he received a kick from me. The dog owner just stood there, but with three dogs and no lead she couldn't do much about it rather than shout at her dogs.

Next week is a cutback week of “only“ 51 miles, which not so long ago (say, a month) would have been around my peak mileage. I feel tired today, but generally the first four weeks of training have gone much better than I could have hoped.

11 Jun: 8 miles, 1:08, 8:30 pace, with 10x100 strides

Am I doing this wrongly?

Well, how time flies. A bit over a week ago I was worried about doing too much when I was starting my 9 runs in 9 days block. To be honest, I haven’t even thought about it since then; I just went running each day, and apart from Monday’s death march, it went swimmingly. Tomorrow is my first rest day in a while, and I’m actually annoyed about it. I’m half tempted to do a short run, but I won’t. Running 6 days a week is going so well, it would be silly to change it.

Yesterday’s recovery run was a bit faster than usual, but the heart rate was down just as much, which is why I’m ok with it. The temperatures have been soaring (well, relatively speaking; this is Ireland) up to 25C/77F, but when I do my runs in the morning it is a lot cooler and more suitable to running.

Today I set the alarm clock to 5:05 am, but once again woke up by myself just before that. I was still feeling tired, but that went away as soon as I hit the road. The plan was 5 miles along Caragh Lake, 5 miles back, and 7 miles in a loop towards Killorglin. The wind was very blustery, and after fighting against it for 2.5 miles I had enough of that and turned around, and added a 5 miles loop towards Ard-na-Sidhe instead, where the road is sheltered by trees.

It all went so well I can’t actually believe it. I was waiting for fatigue to strike, but it never came. And this on the ninth day of consecutive running, and with the highest mileage I’ve done so far. So far it certainly looks like choosing the 24/70 plan was a very good idea. I guess my aerobic base is up to levels I’ve never even come close to, and that’s why running seems so easy these days. When I got home I got a bit of a shock when I checked the time and realised that I had been running at sub-8 pace.

Now, I have read all about running your long runs slowly, and Pfitzinger himself recommends running them between 10% and 20% slower than your target marathon pace. My target time for Dublin is 3:30, which is of course pretty much 8:00-pace. Therefore I should be doing my long runs no faster than about 8:40. The thing is though, I’m not even pushing it. I’m running relaxed, the breathing is normal (though I doubt that I would be able to have a conversation) and I always feel that I could run faster if I really wanted to. So, where’s the error? Am I running too fast? Is my target time too slow? (but remember, it is already 25 minutes faster than my present PR). So much to think about, so much to ponder. And there I was thinking that running just requires you to put one foot in front of the other, and then repeat that for a few thousand times.

I told a new work colleague that I did 17 miles this morning. He went pale, started coughing and for a second looked like he was having a heart attack. Non-runners are weird aren’t they?

8 Jun: 5 miles, 45:23, 9:04 pace
9 Jun: 17 miles, 2:15, 7:56 pace

Flying High Again

It is amazing what a recovery day and better running conditions can do for you. After Monday’s horror show, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to today’s repeat performance; I really didn’t want to go through the same experience again.

I ran Tuesday’s recovery run at the same pace as all the other recovery runs I’ve been doing lately, but was very pleased with myself when I discovered that I had done it with my lowest heart rate ever. My heart rate on those runs (actually, on all runs) has been dropping steadily over the last few weeks. I guess the higher mileage is boosting my endurance, and I expect this effect to continue for a while. At the very least it’s a sign that I’m not over-training.

Anyway, I woke up this morning at 5:54 am - one minute before the alarm would have gone off. My body clock seems to be working very well at the moment. A look out of the window didn’t reveal the expected sunshine but instead a country covered in a blanket of very dense fog. This of course meant that running on the road would be a bit more dangerous than usual, but it also meant I would be running in lower temperatures that usual, and that definitely suited me. Well, as on Monday, I’m not entirely sure what caused the change in effort. Whether it was the easy day on Tuesday or the more agreeable conditions, or, most likely, both of them together, I felt much better. M-u-c-h better. In fact, I was flying down that road. I would never have thought it possible that I would be able to run completely relaxed and without too much effort, and still run at sub-8:00 pace. I did the outwards leg at pretty much 8:00 pace, and the return leg at about 7:40, and felt very good about it. Of course this means I’ve shelved the idea of an extra rest day. Who needs rest days when you’re on a high?

Lola has pretty much recovered from her chickenpox, and now we’re waiting for the boys to catch it. Niamh had it when she was a child. And I – don’t remember. I asked my mum, and she thinks I never had it. Uh-oh!

Cian has been is usual destructive self. Since the last time I’ve reported about him he has (deep breath):

• spilled Niamh’s foundation cream over the rug
  
• eaten her last lipstick
  
• covered himself with a thick layer of green paint and left his prints all around the sun room (he looked like a leprechaun)
  
• eaten some paint (non-toxic, thankfully)
  
• and delivered his so-far destructive masterpiece: I had to separate the boys at bedtime, and put Cian into our bed. He was totally quiet for 20 minutes, so I naturally assumed he was asleep. When I finally checked, he had taken some bleach, some cream, some make-up and a generous amount of water, mixed them all together and had great fun while covering the floor in a thick layer of his concoction. Oh the mess!!!!!

Sigh. I’m sure he’ll grow out of this. The twins were pretty bad at that age as well. I just hope the house will still be standing by the time he’s matured.

6 Jun: 5 miles, 47:17, 9:27 pace
7 Jun: 11 miles, 1:26, 7:49 pace

Down with a Bump

After all that talk about how great I feel and how well the running is going, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I came back down to earth. Saturday’s recovery run went well enough, even if I was a little bit stiff from the rather fast 16 miles the day before. Sunday rounded off the week with a 9-mile tempo run. I was quite surprised to see a tempo run in the schedule so early in the training, but went with the plan. I did 2.5 miles warm-up, 4 miles at about 7:10 pace, and another 2.5 cool-down. I felt pretty good about it, but was fairly knackered towards the end. This finished my week on 56 miles, which, incidentally, is a new record for me.

Monday is a bank holiday in Ireland, so I didn’t even have to get up early. I definitely needed some sleep, because I was conked out for nearly 10 hours flat. I had taken a anti-histamine tablet on Sunday night, which always make me drowsy, and that might have contributed to me being knocked out. As a result of that lie-in, I didn’t leave for Monday’s 11 miler until 9:40, by which time the sun was high in the sky and the temperatures were about 22C/72F, which for Ireland in June is as hot as it gets. Mindful of a terrible run about 3 weeks ago, I took some water in a water belt, even though I hate running with the extra weight around my waist. But boy, was I glad I did that, I would have been seriously dehydrated otherwise! As soon as I went out, my legs let me know that they were not happy. Whether it was the 56 miles in the previous week, the tempo run yesterday, the several hours of gardening over the weekend, the after-effects of the anti-histamine, or (most likely) all of those things together, it was a death-march from the beginning, and it didn’t get better. I toyed with the idea of turning around after 3miles and doing a 5 mile loop in the forest to Ard-na-Sidhe instead to make up the miles in the shade, but decided against it because I wanted to run over some hills. It didn’t help that I drank most of my water on the first half, and got rather thirsty on the way back. I finished the run in 1:34, which I suppose is still not too bad, but 6 minutes slower than the same run 7 days ago. I will think about throwing in an extra rest day this week if later on I still feel as beaten up as I do right now.

Lola has chickenpox at the moment, and she’s not happy about it to say the least. Cian’s misbehaviour isn’t helping, but I’ll tell you about that another time.

3 June: 5 miles, 47:31, 9:30 pace
4 June: 9 miles, 1:12, 8:00 pace, with 4 miles at about 7:10
5 June: 11 miles, 1:34, 8:32 pace

Progress

This is Lola. She is the most beautiful girl in the world, even if Daddy might be a tiny little bit biased.

I couldn’t go running on Wednesday, because Niamh was in Dublin and I had to mind all three children on my own. But I was looking forward to getting to bed early on Wednesday night, only for Niamh to ring at 7 o’clock and shatter those plans. She had gotten onto the wrong train, and could only make it as far as Mallow, about 65 miles from here. After getting the children ready for bed, I had to find a neighbour to mind them (which was an adventure of its own) and then drive all the way and collect the good lady wife. The road to Mallow is narrow, curvy and slow, and it took well over an hour each way. By the time we finally made it back home, it was nearly midnight.

I managed to crawl out of bed on Thursday for a 5-mile recovery run. Despite not running the day before I felt rather stiff and tired, which I blame on the car journey. It went ok though, and I once again managed to keep the effort to a very easy level. As always, I was both looking forward and dreading my long run on Friday. 16 miles sounded a lot, but I always enjoy my long runs, in fact, they have become my favourite runs. All the most memorable runs I’ve ever had were long ones. After delivering the wettest May in recorded history, the weather has finally turned into summer, the sun has been shining all week, but it is still quite cold at 6am in the morning, which makes for absolutely beautiful running conditions. Today’s run went exceedingly well, apart from one spot at around mile 3, when I felt a bit nauseous, but that went away and the rest of the run was great. I didn’t even feel tired towards the end, and speeded up a little on the last few miles without really noticing. I just love running at the moment!

Finally, I want to send best wishes to Mike, Susan and Dianne, and all the other runners for Sunday’s marathon in San Diego. Good Luck!

--------------

Update: I completely forgot! Extra special best wishes go out to Rob and Olga on their 50 miler. I know for you two this is a longish walk in the park, but to me you guys are just awesome.

1 Jun: 5 miles, 48:13, 9:38 pace
2 Jun: 16 miles, 2:09, 8:03 pace

I Feel Good!

I’ve just finished three hard (-ish) days in a row, and I’m feeling fantastic. Monday’s 10 miles went very well. The sky was slightly overcast and the wind was blustery, but it still made for very decent running conditions. I was a bit wary of today, because instead of the scheduled recovery run I decided to do double-figures again because I can’t run on Wednesday. To make things worse, I had to drive Niamh's parents to the airport in the morning for a 6:10 am departure, which meant getting up at 4:35! I dropped them off, and when I got home decided that I had enough time for 11 miles, so that’s what I went for. I couldn’t believe how well it went. Despite the fact that I had slept less than 5 hours, and despite running 10 on Monday and 8 on Sunday, the whole run seemed utterly effortless. When I got home I was pleased how well I felt, but when I checked the time and realised that I had done the run at 8:00 pace, I couldn’t believe it. Running has never felt so easy, and I feel in great shape already. The marathon is still some 22 weeks away, and I’m already looking forward to it – if I don’t demolish my present PR by a significant margin, I shall be very disappointed.

Maybe I shouldn’t look too far into the future just yet, there are still an awful lot of miles ahead of me, and who knows how long the high will last.

Nana was only here for two nights, but Cian managed to demolish a DVD of hers. We were all sitting at dinner, suddenly he took off, and by the time we realised what he was up to, the damage had been done. Despite being rather embarrassed, I couldn’t help feeling just a tiny bit pleased underneath – finally Nana knows that we're not exaggerating when we tell her of his destructive streak.

On a totally different note, it’s now exactly one year since I’ve started this blog. I had finished my second marathon a few weeks earlier, in Belfast, where I had an absolute nightmare of a run. Afterwards I decided that a) I’m not done with that marathon thingy yet and b) I have to learn how to properly prepare for such a distance. This lead me to buy Pfitzinger’s book, as well as starting this blog to keep a diary and to ensure that I would remain focused. I didn’t even know that there was a whole community of running blogs out there – it took me a few months to discover those. I haven’t looked back since.

29 May: 10 miles, 1:26, 8:36 pace
30 May: 11 miles, 1:28, 8:00 pace

Honestly, I’m fine

The weather had threatened to become bearable again, but of course on Friday the rain came back one more time with a vengeance – and since Friday is my long run day, it meant 14 soggy miles. But, I have decided that, actually, I like running in the rain. I don’t get blisters from wet feet, and the rain ensures I never get too hot. So, all in all, I had 14 untroubled miles. Of course there was nobody else out running on a day like this, which is maybe why that one car felt the need to hoot at me as he/she was passing me. Maybe the driver was so amazed to see a figure running out there at 5:50am in the rain – I admit, it’s not what most other people would have chosen to do.

Saturday was my rest day, and today’s 8 miles finished off the week on 52 miles. I felt pretty good, but anyone running beside me would have thought I was on the verge of collapse. Due to my hay fever, my chest seems to be a bit blocked, so every breath is accompanied by a rasping noise. I probably sound like an asthmatic, but to be honest it doesn’t hinder my running effort. I still get enough oxygen to keep going at my pace, and it really is not a problem. It was only when I did a few quick strides that I noticed I was quickly reaching the limit of my air supply, but a normal aerobic running effort was ever sustainable, and I felt really strong towards the end.

Niamh has to go to Dublin on Tuesday evening (and won’t be back until Wednesday night) to attend some one-day course for her work, which means I won’t be able to run on Wednesday. I’ll swap next Saturday’s rest day, but that means I’ll be running 9 days in a row after that. It’s not ideal to say the least, and I’ll most likely put in 2 10 milers on Monday and Tuesday respectively to ensure that the following days are easier with plenty of recovery days. I could do without obstacles like this, but family life does come with its own challenges.

Oh, yeah, family challenges. What has Cian been up to? Let me think. He took the figs that mummy was soaking in order to make a cake and battered them in a big bowl of flour (I thought that was really funny, Niamh didn’t), he smeared some Savlon cream all over himself and a mirror, he smashed a few more eggs, and the washing machine is working all out to deal with the after-effects of a not-yet completely mastered toilet training program. Basically, business as usual.

26 May: 14 miles, 1:56, 8:17 pace.
28 May: 8 miles, 1:03, 7:52 pace

Shock to the System

My 10 miler yesterday started just like any other 10 miler I’ve run recently: get up at 6, get some breakfast for me and Shea, pacify Shea with telly to prevent him from waking the rest of the house, and leave. It looked like it was going to be a nice day, with the sun peeking through the clouds. The run went well until about 7 miles when I started to get all kinds of aches and pains. Not just in the legs, e.g. my right shoulder was really sore. As I continued, my eyes started to get more and more sore, and when they started itching, I realised that I was suffering from an allergic reaction. I’m very familiar with allergies, having suffered from hay fever since the age of 12. I got home and had a shower, but my eyes were so swollen that Niamh wanted to send me to the doctor straight away. I started to feel better after 30 minutes or so, and decided to skip the doctor and buy some anti-histamine in the pharmacy instead. I felt like crap until lunchtime (and the tablets made me drowsy), but felt better and better in the afternoon, and was fine by the time I left work around 6pm. I’m not sure about the cause, but suspect that it was fairly severe hay fever from some pollen. This could cause a real problem with my running schedule if it happens again, but for the time being I’ll carry on as usual.

On the plus side, I’m feeling much better than a few days ago. The head cold is mostly gone, and the achilles/calf issue (I am back to thinking that it was the achilles) seems to have disappeared as well. I’ve started to do some specific strengthening exercises, mostly to get the feeling that I’m doing something about this.

Today’s recovery run went very well, I really got into the “slow running” mode. At one stage I felt like I was gliding just above the ground with very little effort. When running the Connemara marathon, after about 11 miles or so, one of the ultra runners overtook me (it was mile 24 for him) and I noticed his peculiar running style, his feet hardly left the ground – he still went past me like a rocket of course. In some ways I got that feeling today, I hardly seemed to lift the feet, and the heart rate was very low despite the fact that I was running uphill at the time. Maybe I’m finally getting a handle on that running economy thingy.

There was one more very unusual occurrence: another runner! Yes, it’s unbelievable, I know. I was rounding a corner, and all of a sudden I saw another figure trotting along about 100 meters ahead of me. I tamed my competitive instinct to catch the guy and kept to my recovery effort, and we ran about a mile at the same pace, him maybe half a minute ahead of me. Then he turned around and headed towards me. My cheerful “Good Morning” was completely ignored though; I didn’t even get a nod in reply. Ah well – must have been from Dublin, I suppose.

24 May: 10 miles, 1:23, 8:18 pace
25 May: 5 miles, 47:05, 9:25 pace

Various Pains

Weather-wise we were wondering whether we would witness wonderfully wintry wemperatures. Sorry about that. It actually stopped raining, and I hardly got wet this morning, but the temperatures have dropped so much that I was running in long sleeves the last two days. Normally I’m always out in short sleeves/shorts until the temperatures reach about 0C/32F, but running in Sunday’s rain had the unwelcome side-effect that I caught a bit of a head-cold. It’s nothing serious, and it passes the neck-test; but I really wished the headaches and the blocked nose would stop. Yesterday’s 10 miles were maybe a bit too fast, but for today’s recovery run I really kept the effort at the easy, easy, easy level, to avoid another scolding from Coach Mike. In fact, I felt a bit light-headed and woozy when I got up this morning and told myself to bag the workout if the heart rate was elevated, but once I was out running I immediately felt better, and the heart rate was always in the proper range when I checked.

The other thing bothering me is my right calf. I’m not sure what the issue is at the moment. At first I though it was an achilles strain, started off from the sprained ankle on Thursday, but the area of the pain is about two inches above the area where I last suffered from tendonitis, and slightly to the inside of my leg. I tried to search the web about this, but didn’t come up with anything. It didn’t bother me while out running, but it was quite sore today, as well as last night. As long as it doesn’t get more painful than that, it won’t stop me from running, but I’m a bit paranoid at the moment. I’m well aware that I’m already running close to the highest weekly mileage I’ve ever done, and it’s only the second week of training. I guess the chances of getting injured are always there, and I’m a bit nervous about this.

Curtai’s last comment made me go and check the average yearly rainfall in Kerry. Well, apparently it’s a whopping 1770 mm per year. No wonder I’m getting wet regularly.

Since you’re all desperate to know, Cian’s training is going as expected, apart from the fact that he utterly, totally and completely refuses to sit on the potty. It has to be the proper toilet or nothing. Suits me.

22 May: 10 miles, 1:22, 8:12 pace
23 May: 5 miles, 46:28, 9:17 pace

Various Ramblings

Saturday was a historic day in the Irish province of Munster. For the first time, the rugby team won the Heineken Cup (the top European rugby trophy), and the whole province is going bonkers. We happened to be in Limerick yesterday, the hotbed of rugby, and not only was the town half empty (there were tens of thousands in Cardiff for the final), but most of the remaining few people were congregated in O’Connell Street where a huge screen was erected to screen the game live. The whole place went nuts at the final whistle. Today the roads are dead quiet, even more so than usual, as everyone seems to have to biggest hangover since, well, last Paddy’s Day.

Unfortunately, the weather God isn’t celebrating with us. Friday and Saturday gave us a break from the relentless rain. Alas, reprieve was short-lived, and today the heavens have opened again. I got up at 8am, but waited until 10.30 in the hope that the conditions would improve. Eventually I gave up waiting and just headed out into the rain. I might be completely mad, but I really enjoyed it. It wasn’t very windy, which made the rain much more bearable, and somehow running in the lashing rain gives you a feeling of “I’m hardcore!”. Maybe that’s why I ran too fast yet again, or more likely it was attempt to keep warm. My ankle had been painful for most of yesterday and even this morning, but I didn’t feel it at all while out running. Thanks go to Hilda for reminding me about icing it. Oh, and guess what – it stopped raining half an hour after I came home.

I haven’t reported much about Cian’s misbehaviour recently. Well, he did scratch yet another DVD this morning (which infuriated me, but I’ve calmed down by now). The real mess was when he discovered a 5 kg bag of lentils in one of the kitchen cabinets. It was maybe half full, but you can still cause an awful mess with 2.5kg of lentils. To be fair, he didn’t actually pour it out, he just seemed to be fascinated by the texture, and kept running the lentils through his hands. Even so, the chaos caused was considerable. And he’s just started toilet training. I promise I won’t give you the details, and I still remember that time when we trained the twins, with me once saying that this was my least favourite part of parenthood. As I said, I’ll spare you the details, but at least we haven’t had any major accidents so far.

21 May: 7 miles, 54:31, 7:47 pace

Rain, Rain Go Away!

To say the weather has been nasty recently would be a massive understatement. It’s like the running gods wanted to test my resolve early on, and challenged me to get wet day after day after day. I’m glad I do all my runs in the morning; somehow it never seems so bad then. Up to yesterday it was the same every day. I would run in the rain after getting up, go to work, and as I’m driving home in the evening rain and wind I think to myself “Am I glad I don’t have to go running now in those conditions”.

Anyway, I’ve again managed 6 days in a row, but it’s not really grounds for celebration. I feel quite tired, and I think the lack of an extra rest day is telling. I hope I get used to that sooner rather than later, because the training is only going to get more challenging as the weeks go by. I ran Wednesday’s 10 miler too fast, time and again I caught myself speeding up, consciously slowed down to a more manageable pace, but as soon as my mind started wandering again, the legs increased the pace again. Even yesterday’s recovery run was too fast, sub-9 pace is not really recovery pace for me, even if the HR was only slightly out of the recommended zone. (By the way, I’m not really a slave to my HRM. I hardly ever check the HR during the run, only afterwards, when I log the time and average HR). I played a good hour of football last night, and at one stage slightly twisted my ankle. It wasn’t too bad, the pain stopped after a minute, and I didn’t think much about it. When I started today’s 13 miler, I felt really stiff and tired, which I put down to the football. After about 2 miles I started to get a numb kind of pain in my left calf/knee - it’s hard to describe, and I couldn’t even tell which bit was actually hurting, the top of my calf or the outside of my knee. That pain subsided soon, and until mile 10 the run was ok, even if the effort was slightly laboured. But all of a sudden my ankle let me know that it wasn’t happy, the same one I had twisted the night before. I was nearly at the turn-around point of my final 5-mile loop, so I continued on, hoping that it would get better. It didn’t, and the last 3 miles were agony. Boy, was I glad when I got back home. I don’t think I aggravated anything, and tomorrow is my rest day anyway, but I’ll keep an eye on it over the next few days.

17 May: 10 miles, 1:21, 8:06 pace
18 May: 5 miles, 44:37, 8:55 pace
19 May: 13 miles, 1:51, 8:32 pace

Marathon Training

The weather forecast had been pretty gruesome for the last couple of days, with wind and rain, and storm warnings for tomorrow. So far that hasn’t quite happened; while it was raining heavily each night, by the time of my runs it had calmed down to a mere drizzle on both occasions. Let’s hope tomorrow’s forecast will be equally exaggerated, because as much as I want to go running every day, running in a storm is too dangerous. I can’t run in the wood because there are heavy branches falling off trees each time there is a storm, and I can’t run along Caragh Lake because I would not feel safe from the cars on the road.

Monday was the beginning of my marathon training program, not that the runs have been markedly different. Sunday’s 8 miles were not part of the training, but Monday’s 10 miles were, but to be honest, they felt pretty much the same. My legs felt quite heavy on both runs, but manageable on each account. And on today’s recovery run, I had the lowest heart rate during a run I can remember. All of last year I ran with a pace that felt ok, but according to most of the training books around, my heart rate was consistently too high. Now, all of a sudden, I am still running at roughly the same pace, but the heart rate is in the correct zone. I certainly won’t attempt to speed up again, not with me cranking up the mileage to new levels.

For all (ok, both) of you enquiring about the pronunciation of Celtic names, Cian is pronounced “Key-ann”, Niamh is pronounced a bit like “Nee-uhv”, and (before you ask) Shea is pronounced “Shay”. I’ve heard some mispronunciations, especially from Americans (sorry, no offence), that made my ears hurt.

15 May: 10 miles, 1:24, 8:24 pace
16 May: 5 miles, 46:18, 9:15 pace

Cross-training of some sort

Thankfully the weather forecast for the weekend had been wrong. Saturday was a very nice day with plenty of sunshine, which I used to work in the garden like a galley slave. After 8 hours of cutting grass, planting blueberry bushes, strimming rushes and cutting down yet more gorse, I was as tired as after a marathon.

Cian has found some new ways of causing havoc. Yesterday he took off his nappy when nobody was watching and of course ended up weeing on the floor. Thankfully he missed the carpet, and it was easy to clean from the wooden floorboards. Today he insisted on helping making brunch, which unfortunately ended with the eggs poured all over the oven and the cooker, and both Mummy and Cian in tears. I had to drive to the shop and get some more eggs to pacify all parties in question, and eventually peace of some sort was restored in Caragh Lake.

I finished the week with a run of a bit more than 8 miles. I don’t know if it was down to the miles during the week, or the gardening work yesterday, but my legs felt like lead, and I really had to work on it. The weather has belatedly followed the forecast, it was raining heavily all night, but it had quietened down to a mere drizzle by the time of my run.

I measured my resting heart rate this morning; it was 46, down from 48 when I measured it last about a year ago. The significance of that? Not sure, but I found it interesting in a geeky way anyway.

14 Mar: 8.1 miles, 1:09, 8:31 pace

Postman Pat, Postman Pat, Postman Pat

and his black and white cat … early in the morning … just as day is dawning ... Pat thinks he’s a very lucky man. Why am I typing this? Because that little jingle has been going round and round in my head for a combined 20 miles over the last two days. You see, I got up at 6:40 yesterday (well, Shea woke me), served some breakfast for the boys and turned on the telly for them. I know, I know, TV isn’t a parent replacement, but I wanted to go running and Niamh doesn’t exactly fancy entertaining two boys before 7am, so cbeebies (that’s a kids TV channel. Great, because no ads) it was. And as I turned on the box, Postman Pat started. Which is good in one way because it is one of their favourite programs. The bad thing was that now I had the tune in my head as I went out for my 7 miles. It went round and round in my head. And round. And round. And round. For 7 miles solid. When I got home I thought “at least it’s not Friday, then it would have been in my head for 13 miles”.
So what happened today? I left just before 6am, and for whatever reason, after two steps my brain was at it again. “Postman Pat, Postman Pat ….”. Relentless. When I got back home nearly 2 hours later I was ready to check into an asylum (which is where I belong anyway, according to Niamh. Someone who gets up at 5:35am to go out for a 13 miles run more than 25 weeks before the next marathon should be kept in a padded cell, apparently).

From a physical point of view, the run was great. No pain, which doesn’t happen too often. I deliberately started very slowly, 9:30 pace or so, and gradually increased my pace as the run went on. I eventually finished in 1:55, which is 5 minutes slower than last week, but today’s run was over some major hills, including a wicked 1 mile climb with about 90 meters elevation gain (nearly 300 feet) between mile 5.5 and 6.5. I’ve also been running for 6 days straight, something I have never done before. Now my legs have got that slightly sore feeling that you get after a proper workout, and it feels good. The weather has been great for the last couple of days, only to turn bad just in time for the weekend. Bummer. Tomorrow is my rest day, and Sunday’s 8 miles will finish the week on 46 miles, as planned. And Monday will be the first day of the 24 weeks/70 miles marathon training program.

10 May: 5 miles, 45:52, 9:10 pace
11 May: 7 miles, 58:52, 8:24 pace
12 May: 13 miles, 1:55, 8:50 pace

Nothing exciting to report

I’m in the last week before the marathon training starts in earnest. I’m slowly increasing my mileage. I did 41 miles last week, and I’m planning 46 for this week, which will lead nicely to the 50 miles planned for next week. This week I’m also switching to running 6 times a week, something that’s new to me. Of course this means that this week’s run are no longer than last week.

I did 5 easy miles on Monday, and 8 today. I felt a bit dead on my legs today, but managed to get round ok. One thing I’ve been thinking about is nutrition before and while running. I always used to eat a cereal before my run, and if the run was 15 miles or more, I’d take a gel at 10 miles. Now Mike has at least twice talked about not using gels during the training to get the body used to running low on carbs, and I had been thinking about that anyway. The next stage would be not to eat breakfast before the run. I’m all set to try and run without gels – I’m confident that I should manage that reasonably well. But I’m definitely balking at the idea of running on an empty stomach. I’ll have to think about that more. There’s only so much suffering I’m prepared to take.

I had a look through my running diary and found a run of 8 miles in 1:06 for Dec 7th, about 2 or 3 weeks into my marathon training for Connemara. My average HR had been 163. Today I covered the same distance, on the same road, at the same pace with a HR of 150. Good.

8 May: 5 miles, 46:59, 9:23 pace
9 May: 8 miles, 1:06, 8:15 pace

The Ongoing Saga of Cian B.

Angie inspired me to scan this picture of Cian. Doesn’t he just look like an angel that can do no wrong? He had us quite fooled over the last few days. He hardly misbehaved at all, but of course it was just part of his cunning plan to lure us into a false sense of security. Once our backs were turned for 2 minutes, he broke into the video cabinet, and of all the tapes in there he took out the cleaning tape. He managed to rip the top of the container with the cleaning fluid (no idea how he managed that. The last time I used it, it took me 5 minutes to take the bloody thing off) and spilt the toxic content all around him on the floor. I cleaned it as best as I could, but the chemical smell was lingering for quite some time. To top it off, he managed to scratch yet another DVD - I’ve lost count on how many he’s ruined so far. He takes them out of the player, and I haven’t yet managed to train Shea to put them back into the case after he’s finished watching them.

Oh, and I managed to go out for my 9 miles run as well. I just about managed to squeeze it right between two of the many rain showers we’ve had over the last couple of days. The weather has been mad. One minute there’s glorious sunshine with hardly a cloud in sight, and 5 minutes later you’re in a deluge that you think the place will be flooded any moment now. The run went very well, apart from the same pain in my calf that I had felt on Friday. I started to feel it after about 10 minutes, but it gradually subsided and I didn’t feel it at all on the way back. I also threw in a few strides – Pfitzinger recommends them highly, but I didn’t really bother last time round. But they are also very highly recommended in Kevin Beck’s book, and I decided to be good and start doing them again. I finished the 9 miles in 1:13. I thought the pace would have been around 8:30, but when I calculated it, it was 8:06. I couldn’t believe it. In fact, I dug out my HRM again to check if I had read the time wrongly. But no, I hadn’t. Maybe I’m getting faster after all. I think the half last week really gave me a boost, but can it really have an effect already, just a few days later?

7 May: 9 miles, 1:13, 8:06 pace