Trying to make sense of it all

It's been a day of turbulent thoughts, trying to make sense of the senseless, find reasons for the unreasonable and each time, coming back to the conclusion that there is no sense, no reason, nothing to rage against. Life just isn't fair. Sh*t happens.

Fergie, my clubmate, was only a couple of months older than me and consequently I identify with his death more closely than I might otherwise. The only consoling thought that I can draw from his sudden death is that whilst I doubt that he was ready to die (is anyone?), there are worse ways to go. This thought will provide little comfort for his wife and family though and I wish I could think of the words that would make sense of it, make it all better, but I just can't find them, probably because they just don't exist.

Regarding yesterday's weird attack of nocturnal cramp and muscle tear, rest and elevation wasn't going to be on the cards for family reasons but I applied some tubigrip and iced it three or four times through the day and by the afternoon, the pain had completely vanished which rather begs the question "was it ever a tear?". All I know is that it was darned painful and I was limping with it until midday.

Anyhow, I decided to go out for a gentle jog this evening and ended up doing a quickish 9 miles with nary a niggle. Not a good idea I'm sure but sometimes running seems to be the best therapy for both physical and spiritual problems.

Just when you're feeling sorry for yourself...

...something happens that completely changes your perspective.

When you take on the job of webmaster for your running club the one thing you really don't expect to have to do is to announce the sudden accidental death of a clubmate but that it exactly what's happened today.

Tragically one of my clubmates on a visit to Troon's twinned town of Villeneuve-sur-Lot slipped on some stairs and suffered a fatal head injury. It's hard to come to terms with the fact that someone I was chatting to in the street on Monday isn't coming back to the club, his wife or his family all due to the randomness of an accidental slip. Suddenly my concerns about my calf, my training, my time in Inverness, seem massively inconsequential. And yet, despite it all, no matter how awful I feel for his wife and family, I know that in a week's time I *will* be worrying about my time. I can only hope that my clubmate, wherever he is now, will, as a runner, understand the obsession that drives all runners to challenge themselves and to push the boundaries. I shall be thinking of him during my run and if possible, running a PB in his memory.

B*gger!

There I was, lying in bed last night where I was assailed by an attack of cramp in my right calf. As the muscle went into spasm I felt a tearing "pop" of muscle fibres being torn asunder.

I suppose yesterday's run (and a lingering cold) must have had something to do with it but I can hand on heart say that yesterday's run was easy and there wasn't a hint of any calf problem during or after.

Darned annoying!

Chicken, egg. Egg, chicken

As I probably mentioned, I had a rather cr*p run last Saturday. Part of me would like to believe that I was "brewing" something before my run which led to my poor run but another part would rather believe that the exertion of my run (and the previous week's training) was what led me to develop the streaming nose that I've had most of this week.

The problem with theory A is that I had no symptoms or signs of anything brewing and if something *was* brewing, I certainly wasn't aware of anything before our run. The problem with theory B is that it means admitting that I wasn't as fit as Ithought I was before our run. Consequently I'm not too keen to accept either theory.

The good news is that my cold is much better now and I went out on my jaunt around Auchincruive today, my 6.22 mile trail run that I've been using for tempo runs. Concious that I'd done very little running this week I set off at a nice easy pace and just pushed gently on the hills, anxious not to do naything that might provoke any sort of relapse. Either my mind is wandering more than usual or the hills are getting flatter but by the time I'd finished without feeling I'd pushed myself that hard, I had knocked another 34 seconds off my PB for this circuit. Just goes to show what you can do after a few days rest!

Anyway, feeling a bit more optimistic about Loch Ness. Still be happy with a 3:30 but part of me feels that I might surprise myself. Having said that, with no race results lately to actually measure my progress with, any estimate is a bit of a "shot in the dark". Whatever happens, it'll be good to get together with a few WHW'ers and clubmates.

I suppose like most runners I'm rather obsessed with "times" but family events recently have reminded me lately that people are far more important. Really looking forward to a planned training run on the WHW in November with a number of other WHW runners.

My name is Tim and I am a shoeoholic

I was struggling to close my wardrobe door the other day and noted that there seemed to be an awful lot of running shoes lurking in the darkness. A quick rummage turned up this lot.



I'm sure I'm not alone in hoarding the odd old pair of shoes "just in case". Personally, I blame the WHW race. You just never know how many times you might appreciated a change of shoes during the race so old pairs get kept that otherwise would have been binned. Still, I need the space and I think I'd better get rid of some just to improve the air quality in my wardrobe if nothing else! ;-)

Nose continues to stream (worse today). Went out far a very little jog last night (3.5 miles) just to keep the legs ticking over. Fingers crossed this cold doesn't linger too long.

Taperitis

Taperitis: noun illness induced by the sudden reduction in training load.

Okay, I know it's a load of cobblers. It's much more likely that it's got something to do with maximal training just before the taper weakening the immune system but still, that's what it seems like. Nary a cough or a sniffle over the last six months and the moment I take a couple of days off, my nose starts streaming , I'm sneezing everywhere and my right achilles decides to niggle for no reason at all. :-(

Still, in the big scheme of things it's hardly a disaster. I should be thankful I've not got Foot and Mouth or Blue Tongue!

Taking risks

Andy's comment on my last message got me thinking about running and risk-taking. I think I am probably less "risk averse" than many folk. Whilst I know that wearing a lightweight shoe for a marathon carries an increased risk of injury, I also know that I will get a lot more pleasure out of the race by running in them.

What I don't think anyone can quantify in any meaningful way for any runner in general and me in particular is how great that risk is. I'm not a great beliver in "conventional wisdom", not because I think I'm smarter or "better" in any way, but more because I have more faith in the idea that we are all "an experiment of one". By that I mean that the only way to find out what works for you (and what doesn't work) is to try it. Maybe I'll get injured but with 9 months still to go until the WHW race I think the risk is small and acceptable.

I'll just have to wait and see!

I am such a heel...

Just one day, yep, ONE day into my taper and I hate all other runners. Okay, maybe hate is a little strong. More "resent" than hate. Why? Because they're running and I'm not.

When I'm out running, all other runners are my brothers (or sisters) who share my pain, share my pleasure. The moment I stop running though, I'm instantly resentful of the fact that they're working to build their fitness whilst I'm not running. It doesn't matter if I've just come back from a 20 miler, I still feel like they're gaining an "edge" over me by training while I'm resting. I appreciate that this flies in the face of everything I said about rest being an important part of training yesterday but this is what I feel, not what I think. See? I told you I was a heel. ;-)

Being serious for a moment, I suppose this all stems from the fact that we all, as runners, have spent a lot of time fighting the inertia that kept us from running for years and now find it hard to equate "not running" as an actively beneficial process. My head knows it's true but my heart takes some convincing.

On a more positive note, yesterday's run hasn't left me with any significant physical after effects, just a touch of residual humiliation. I've been cheering myself up by thinking about running in my new Nike Vaporflys. They are just so light and so comfy. Every runner should have a pair of lightweight shoes just to enjoy the wonderful sense of liberation that they give you.

I went to the well...

...and the bucket came out dry.

Today should have been a dream run. Good company (Mark "Fat boy" Hamilton[1] & David McLelland, my partner in crime for my shortest day WHW run), perfect weather and fine scenery along the River Ayr Way. Reality has a way of kicking you in the teeth occasionally however and with hindsight, I should perhaps have seen today's problem coming.

I've had a week of good/hard runs and was riding a wave of overconfidence. Anything seemed possible. Today however, my legs reminded me that I'm only human and that rest is an important part of training.

I'd set off from Glenbuck, planning to enjoy an easy run down to Sorn, a distance of 17 miles. The first hour went easily but after that I struggled to maintain the pace and by the time I'd been running for two hours, I was really feeling like I'd hit the wall. I had some gels with me and had been consuming them hourly and whilst they'd helped, they didn't make a big impression on the "running on empty" feeling. There wasn't a lot I could do other than to slow down and plod along at my own pace.

Whilst my training hasn't been that tough in absolute terms, I think Tuesday's speedwork and Thursday's tempo run had taken more out of my legs that I had realised. Lack of a decently calorie-laden breakfast may also have been a factor. The problem is that I really have no feel for how my legs are before a run. I need a meter that I can strap to my legs with a "Cream crackered" to "Fresh" scale on it. Failing that I guess I just have to learn from experience like every other runner but I don't hold out too much hope for that. ;-)

Still, it's another 17 miles under my belt and my last long run before Loch Ness. I'm sure by the time that rolls round my legs will be feeling fresher. Post run we retired to the Failford Inn for some well deserved beer (they brew their own) and a spot of nonsense talking. What better way to finish a run?

[1] It's only fair to add that "Fat boy" is a singularly inappropriate moniker now. Since his return from Spain, Mark is now one lean, mean, running machine and beating him in next year's WHW race isn't going to be the walkover I was hoping for. Still gonna beat him though. ;-)

Running fast and injury free...

... is the title of Gordon Pirie's excellent little book (which can be downloaded here) but it's a skill that's rather passed me by. ;-)


It's not due to any failing in the advice that Gordon gives but due to my ability to resist anything except temptation. I just can't help pushing the envelope at times to see just how hard I can push. I think some of this stems from coming to running late in life and trying to make up for a misspent youth. Another factor is that for one reason or another, I've been blessed with pretty good health all my life and now probably have a misplaced sense of invulnerability. Consequently, I still feel that I can get away with things (in terms of training) that I shouldn't sensibly attempt. One day maybe I'll learn to act my age. ;-)

Having said all that, today I'm having a rest day. I enjoyed a great tempo run yesterday around Auchincruive estate which is one of my current favourite running spots. It's nearly all trails and has some good lungbusting hills as you can see from the profile. It's just over 10K (as measured off the map) but the hills and conditions underfoot mean that I'll never get anywhere near my road times (current best lap time 52:12) but every time I run it, the hills get that little bit flatter. The downstream side follows the River Ayr Way, a long distance footpath from source to sea that I recently ran (40 miles) with some of my clubmates.







All being well, I plan to run 17 miles of it tomorrow, probably from Glenbuck (the source of the river Ayr) to Sorn. It's not the prettiest stretch of the river Ayr Way by any stretch of the imagination but it is rich in post-industrial heritage and worth doing for "completeness" if no other reason. After that I'll be tapering for the Loch Ness marathon.

To blog or not to blog, that is the question.

I've been wavering for ages over whether to start a blog or not and finally decided to take the plunge. Not just as a training log or diary but as a place to put my thoughts in order about what I feel about my running. Rarely do I finish a run without wishing that I had some device to capture the experience of that run. Not just the images, not just my thoughts but the whole experience of pushing my body to do something amazing, namely carrying me further and faster than I ever thought possible most of my adult life.

So, ready or not, here's my blog!

A little background

I started running to lose weight about 15 years ago now. Like most beginners, I assumed that all I needed to do was to head out of my front door and "run fast". I mean, we all know how to do that don't we? Well, I lived on a hill at the time and getting to the bottom of the hill didn't present too many problems. It was after that that the problems began! Suffice it to say, I probably made all the new runner mistakes. I got injured, overdid it, got discouraged, gave up for several years and repeated that whole cycle again. It wasn't until I scraped my way up to 2:15 1/2 marathon fitness in 2001 that I began to think for the first time in my life that the marathon might just be conceivable.

Fortunately, I was encouraged to try running with Troon Tortoises athletic club and I quickly realised that this was going to be an enormous help with my training for my first marathon (Dublin 2002). In many ways, I still regard that first marathon as one of my greatest running achievements. About 11 months after joining the club at the age of 45, I completed the Dublin marathon in 3:32:00. I've run further and a bit faster since then but it's still the marathon memory I cherish most.

It was in Troon where I met Ian Beattie, a strangely normal sort of person for someone who made a habit of running 95 mile races. (He'll probably resent that description but it's meant as a compliment). He didn't have two heads or a Kenyan physique and to all intents and purposes, looked "normal". I came to realise that the only thing stopping me running ultra distance events was the same thing that had stopped me from attempting a marathon for so much of my adult life, namely, my own expectations. Once I stopped thinking "I couldn't possibly do that" and moved on to "Why couldn't I do that?" a whole new chapter of my running life was opened.

I've had my ups and downs with running injuries since then but I ran my first West Highland Way race in 2005. Not as well as I'd hoped but still a fantastic experience. You can read about that race here. In 2006 I sustained a stress frature of a metatarsal in training and had to pull out the race that year. I was bitterly disappointed by that as my training had been going well up until that point. To make up for that disappointment, I chose to run the WHW on the shortest day of the year instead and successfully completed that run with the help of David McLelland. That report can be read here.

2007 turned out to be the "year of plantar fasciitis" and yet again I was forced to pull out of running the WHW race. Instead I opted to help with marshalling for the race which was a fantastic experience that I'll never forget.

Fortunately after some draconian treatment my PF is now just a memory and I'm back to full time running and currently training for the Loch Ness marathon in just over two weeks time. This will be the third time I've run it and as before, I expect to be around the 3:30 mark.

That's far more background than I'd intended so I think I'd better stop there!