I’ll give thee a wind

Blimey, is it any wonder I never win any races when they pit me against such giants. Maybe they should have a separate race for those of us who are not yet fully grown. Thanks to Ellie Dooley for providing incontrovertible evidence that the dice are loaded against me.

I’ve had a curry on the Saturday evening preceding a race for the third Sunday in a row. If I’d thought about this at all it would be that it’s probably not the best preparation for a race. Life has a tendency to get in the way though and for whatever reason curry seems to have been the meal of choice for the last three Saturday evenings. It certainly hasn’t been a deliberate ploy to power me round the course and probably falls into the more-harm-than-good category. I’ve made a mental note to make sure pasta is served on Saturday evening at Chez Jones prior to the Dewsbury 10k next Sunday.

The race today was another “proper” cross country with lots of mud. If the Eskimos (Inuit?) really do have eighty seven words to describe different types of snow then I wonder if there’s a nation with a similarly ludicrous number of words for mud. There were several types of the slimy stuff on the course today – the squelchy type that oozes through your shoes and socks, the claggy one that sticks to your shoes and makes every step feel like you’re wearing lead boots and the smelly stuff that lurks at the bottom of the brook that you do your best to avoid, even if it may have dubious healing properties. I managed to clear the water jump on both occasions and had a very satisfying romp round finishing in 55th place.

I’d “helped” to mark out the course yesterday so in theory should have been able to apply some local knowledge to assist me in the race. Unfortunately, we only marked out the middle bit of the course so I didn’t really know what was going on most of the time. I abandoned my usual tactic of latching on to Mick from Eccleshill and decided to take responsibility for setting my own pace. This often ends in disaster, but today seemed to work out pretty well. I set out hard and had settled into a comfortable pace when we’d done the running-round-the-field-to-get-us-spread-out nonsense. I was a little way behind clubmate Russ and was soon overtaken by Mick Brearley so tried to keep pace with those two as best I could. I was hanging on a bit at the end, but I felt pretty strong all the way round. Four point eight miles in 33:12, which is pretty good for me.

I’ll miss the final PECO race, so this draws to a close a really enjoyable series of cross country races for me. Had curry for tea again this evening (thanks Jaz), so maybe my windy days are not yet complete.

Still I have borne it with a patient shrug

Does anyone understand the science behind recovery runs? How far should you go? How fast? How is “recovery” measured? These questions are all too difficult for me and I suspect there are no hard and fast rules. I do like the idea of getting out and turning the legs over though, so off I popped this morning on a familiar short run that I haven’t done for some time. It’s a route that is too boggy after rain in the winter and in late summer the nettles are as high as an elephant’s eye for a crucial fifty yard stretch. What marks it out as special for me is that it’s always quiet.

Out the house and up the main road, stiff little climb up to the Fox & Hounds and then up Old Lane for two hundred yards. Then it’s all off road. The only hazards over the last two years have been the very real danger of being mown down by a Brownlee Brother and the imagined threat from the taciturn, shotgun-toting farmer.

When I get to the first corner I almost collide into a dog-walker who hasn’t heard my approach. He almost jumps out of his skin as I sidle past. His dog must be mutt and jeff too, as it scampers away in a panic. Could do without the obstructions but can’t resist a small chuckle that I managed to startle them both.

Through the boggy bit with the icy water seeping through my old trail shoes. Is it unreasonable to hang onto a pair of favourite shoes on the basis of the magical properties of the laces? I think not. Into the second field and I’m held up by a group of five geriatric ramblers (about my age). Why are they on my path? Next it’s two women walking their ponies. Could they possibly take up any more space? Could they not just ride the ponies? Good job I’m going for a slow one.

Through the sinister farmyard where they’re always watching you (whoever they are) and into the field. Three young men and a scrambling bike. They look furtive and shifty as they guard the fire they’ve got going in the corner of the field. Through the final field, but not through the stile onto Harrogate Road as it’s just a short one today.
Turn round and head back and brace myself for going past the same obstacles, but they’ve all evaporated. I have no time to savour my solitude though as I’m soon dodging flying debris as a different farmer has got a flail going on the hedgerow. Past another set of ramblers (Rats! This path must have made it into a walking guide) and back into downtown Bramhope. Four and a quarter miles in 39:11. Legs feel good and ready to take on the weekend.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

I’m beginning to get into this marathon training lark with my third long(ish) run in the last nine days. It’s beginning to take over with more and more contrived plans around finding varied and interesting routes to run. It’s not just the training either, I can also face up to confectionery demons without fear of temptation. No longer do I slink past the dreaded aisle in the supermarket or avert my eyes from the dastardly placed point of sale crap they put next to the checkout. I can now stride purposefully up to the chocolates and sweets and recognise them for what they are with their hideous garish wrappers and mischievous slogans. Shelves filled with preservatives and chemically enhanced colours. Bah. I’m still partial to a red Bounty mind.

I’m feeling quite smug as I’ve done my long slow run for the week and marathon training is back on track after a slight wobble last week. I set off today with several alternative routes in mind. Trouble is I didn’t know how far I wanted to run so we came up with a number of options of circular runs of approximate distances. With too much detail in my head I decided to obey the Great God Garmin and just run past Eccup rezza and then turn round and re-trace my route when I’d reached a point I was happy with. This turned out to be at seven and a half miles at somewhere called Tree Tops Community Centre. Whilst this conjures up images of a wonderful feat of architecture with verandahs and a luxury room on stilts in reality it’s just a large hut that overlooks a scruffy football pitch.

There is an argument that an “out and back” route is boring, but I’ll have none of it. I had not one but two opportunities to look for kingfishers on Kingfisher Way and plantations on Plantation Gardens, but I was unsuccessful with both. Also plenty of time to ponder how much filthy lucre must have changed hands to secure planning permission for some of the monstrosities on Wigton Lane. Goes to show you can’t buy taste.

Also added a new pub we could walk out to on an evening in summer – The Dexter. Apart from bearing the same name as my favourite fictional serial killer, it didn’t seem to have anything else going for it. Maybe not one to walk out to then.

So a pretty uneventful long slow run. Fifteen miles in two hours and ten minutes. No murmurings from any of my sleeping injuries. No aches and pains that I didn’t have before I set out, just a little chafing and the feet a bit more battered than they were before. Just as well as I’ve got another run to plan for tomorrow … and one for the next day …and the day after.


http://www.justgiving.com/LizJones1

A charge too heavy for my strength

It was great to get out yesterday and run in the daylight in the country. My two main runs of the week were both urban runs on dark evenings. I rested on Monday following exertions at the PECO the day before. I’d arranged to meet up with fellow Hyde Park Harrier Andy for a six miler prior to run club on Tuesday evening. We reckoned that a steady twelve miles with four days rest would be good preparation for a fast half. We ran through the city centre out up Meanwood Road, left at Shaw Lane and then back into the city down Otley Road. Finished off with a bit of running round the Uni to take us up to six miles. When we lined up outside The Edge I was nicely warmed up and not too fatigued. We split into groups and we agreed a steady six miler with group leader Rick and the other group four runner. By the time I’d put my empty water bottle and gel wrapper in the bin, four had become twelve as we’d joined in with the group five boys and girl to make one joint group. They’d also agreed that we’d run the Kirkstall hills rather than the steady six miler. Kirkstall hills is a challenging run in that you run as fast as you can up each of seventeen streets off Kirkstall Road, with a slow jog back down each of them making your way back towards the city between streets. Not only that, it’s also a darn sight further to get to and from Kirkstall hills now we’ve changed running base. A quick review of my options revealed that I didn’t have any – group three had already set off and Mike our group leader was so enthusiastic. Eight and a half (tough) miles later and I was back at the Edge absolutely worn out.

By Thursday evening I felt I’d better do something just to get the legs moving again. I aimed for a six mile recovery run up the A660 towards Lawnswood roundabout and back. Despite the clear evening, the Garmin took an annoyingly long time to find a signal so I set off anyway. It was an interesting discovery (probably blindingly obvious to everyone else) to find that the darned thing records the time from when you press go and the distance from when it finds a signal. My aim to run out exactly three miles and then turn round instantly scuppered. I was also underdressed for a cold evening, particularly in the hat and gloves department. I ended up running a bit further than I’d intended and a bit faster too.

A gym session on Friday was more or less given over to a massage. It seems that when I overdo training the right calf tightens up, the knee aches and the hamstring swells. I can still run, but if I try and push the pace it feels like something is going to give. By Saturday my legs still felt shattered so I set out on a slow parkrun. We have it easy in the middle of the field; it was carnage towards the back as some sort of collision had several runners ahead of me stumbling and crashing to the ground. A trot round with Geoff’s friend gave me a good workout without putting the legs under any pressure.

By Sunday morning all thoughts of a PB on a fast, flat course were gone. I’d gone for a PB at the Brass Monkey the previous year and had run out of steam. Maybe one year I’ll train specifically for this race and give it my best shot. We arrived at the same time as several hundred other runners and it was chaos. The queuing system for number and chip was incomprehensible and the signage so small you had to barge to the front to find you were in the wrong queue. That said, it all seemed to get sorted out very quickly.

Despite a large number of Hyde Park Harriers, I lined up on my own and I set off with no real plan other than to get round as quickly as possible, but to back off if the leg started to give me any gyp. I caught up with Andy after about half a mile and as he was looking to run at 7:30 pace I decided to tag along with him. He was feeling no ill effects from Tuesday’s session, but was looking to improve on the 1:48 he’d run at his only previous half marathon.

We more or less kept up a consistent 7:30 pace for the first half and went through half way in forty nine minutes. We picked it up a little towards the end and Andy must have got sick of me chirruping in his lughole all the way round. I had enough left for a fast finish and a negative split. I have to say I really enjoyed the run, was relaxed all the way, wasn’t disassociating or counting down the miles like I do when I’m going for a time. I finished in 1:36:29.

Lots of clubmates and friends got PBs and there was a good buzz about the place. This was a satisfying training run for me, overall running comfortably at 10 seconds per mile faster than my intended marathon pace. It was way beyond me to run a PB, but a good step forward towards running a VLM PB.

Thanks to Rich Kennington for the photo

http://www.justgiving.com/LizJones1

Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends

Today was the third of the PECO cross country series. We all met up at Bramley Falls Woods and watched the juniors set off on their race. People were casting suspicious glances at a particularly steep ascent and whispering nervously that we had to run up this hill three times in our race. I decided to treat this as an unsubstantiated rumour and chose to believe those who said that the hill wasn’t even part of our course.

I seem to have a lot of difficulty working out cross country routes. There was an aerial map of this particular course along with a scanned-in map that had been clearly marked up. I couldn’t really marry the two up and neither seemed to bear any resemblance to the real life site. Even though I knew it was three laps with a fiddly bit at the start and another fiddly bit at the end, I still hadn’t really got it sussed before we set off. My lack of understanding regarding where we’re going isn’t really a problem when it comes to following the correct route, more that I don’t know where the finish is, how far away it is at any point in the race and therefore how much to save so I can attempt to see off any fast finishers. Let’s face it there are always going to be plenty of runners ahead of me for me to slavishly follow. On the rare occasions when I find myself isolated I either speed up and tag along with the runner in front or (more usually) hang back so the runner behind can get ahead of me.

I made quite a brisk start today without really meaning to and was going past the start area in six and a half minutes. I know it was six and a half minutes ‘cos I looked at my watch and got a bollocking from Sam for not concentrating. I couldn’t figure out how I could be passing the start area so quickly if there were three and a bit laps of a five mile race.

Tom came past me after about eight minutes which was a pretty clear indication that I’d set off too quickly. Mike flirted with overtaking me a couple of times, but I kept what I thought was a reasonable pace and gradually went past a few runners until I tucked in behind Mick from Eccleshill. I shamelessly dogged his footsteps for the next ten minutes round a “proper” cross country run that had a few muddy bits a couple of nasty inclines and a beastly bank. When we were on what I thought was the last lap I went past Mick and chased after a lady from Chapel Allerton who I thought might have been the leading lady (she wasn’t). She pulled up lame and I followed a couple of Abbey runners until what I thought was the finish area when I went past them. It wasn’t the finish area and the realization that I still had some as yet indeterminate distance to run was a bitter blow.

Both the Abbey boys came past me as I carried on as best I could in the certain knowledge that Mr Hogan was breathing down my neck, but didn’t get overtaken by anyone else. We repaired to the Abbey pub after packing Shane off for medical attention – he’d gone yonderly and looked like he’d been through the washing machine with an extra helping of Daz. He’s OK now though.

The pub was packed and Kirkstall/Abbey had laid on a marvellous spread. We had a couple of bevies and discussed our performances and there was an excellent spirit between runners of different clubs. Not surprisingly with two of our alpha males crocked our male team finished 7th with our female team coming home 3rd.

An excellent event with terrific support from non-running Hyde Park Harriers and their families, the Stott family and enthusiastic marshals.

Sir, I shall not be slack

Liz has put me to shame over the last few days by doing a running commute on Thursday morning and then a twelve miler on Friday afternoon. I’ve been feeling somewhat lethargic. I ran a slowish ten miler on Wednesday afternoon with clubmates Andy and Helen. Ran from the Edge into town then out up Meanwood Road, along the ring road and back down Otley Road. 9.9 miles in 92 minutes.

I didn’t feel like running on Friday, but hauled my sorry ass round a regular training run of three miles. I followed that up with a gym session to give the upper body a proper workout. There was a real danger I wouldn’t be able to lift my wine glass in the evening. I just managed to be resolute and avoid drinking from the bottle through a straw.

Started slowly on the parkrun 5k and ran the first 2k with Leroy who’s in my age category and usually about my speed. He’s been out for a couple of months and is just getting some miles in for Brass Monkey. Pushed on and chased after Gwyl who was pacing at 21 minutes. We then had an excellent breakfast chat at the Refectory before heading off to Sweatshop York to select my free running shoes. I ended up with a pair of Asics Gel Nimbus which I will use sparingly over the next couple of months and should be nicely worn in for the London Marathon.

Rounded off the day with a curry at Prashads in Bradford. Not the best presentation for PECO. Still feeling lethargic, but I’ll give it my best shot.



http://www.justgiving.com/LizJones1

The better part of valour is discretion

It’s been a frustrating few days and I haven’t got the miles in as planned. The twelve mile run early on Sunday morning never happened. A look out of the window was enough to send me straight back to bed. The streets of Bramhope were covered with a thin layer of black ice. Although this was patchy all the people who walked or ran past the house were having a hard time of it. This far out from the marathon I’ve got time to re-schedule a run for later in the week when there’s less risk of injury.

I was committed to a four mile run on Monday morning as I had arranged to drop my car off for a service and MOT in Horsforth and then run back home. There was still some black ice around, just enough to have me running all tensed up ready to hit the tarmac. I don’t think I run enough miles or run at sufficient speed to qualify for “junk miles”, but this was a pretty rubbish run.

Postponement of football matches has led to a fixture backlog so I’m going to miss a few Tuesday evening run club sessions. I’ll have to run some interval sessions on my own in order to ensure I get an intensive training session in each week. In the morning I jogged down to the rugby field and ran four times four minutes with a minute and a half recovery. These were supposed to be 1km repeats but I haven’t mastered the Garmin yet. Think I need a tutorial with someone who knows Garmins.

In the afternoon I jogged the four miles to Horsforth to pick up the car. Although I was tired from the morning effort it was still quicker and less fraught than the reverse run of yesterday.

Got a slowish ten miler tomorrow evening weather permitting, then a couple of shorter runs before the next PECO cross country. With all the melted snow and plenty of rain forecast we could be in for a muddy one.

http://www.justgiving.com/LizJones1

Cakes and Ale

I think we’ve managed it at last – “eaten up”. All the stuff you get in for the Christmas break that you wouldn’t give house room to for the rest of the year. The stuff that’s left over and then shared out after the office “do”. The unmissable two for one offers on crates of booze. The Christmas cake that my Mum makes for me. The great slabs of cheese to accompany said cake (it’s a Northern thing). It’s taken a great deal of effort and commitment but we’ve managed to get through in two weeks what it takes the population of Lesotho to consume in a (good) year. Despite upping the training I’ve still managed to add another half a stone to the bulging waistline.

I’ve had two days off from running following an increase in both volume and intensity earlier in the week. I’ve not been completely idle though; did a six mile walk on Thursday and then failed to scale both Pen y ghent and Ingleborough on Friday. We set off up Pen y ghent but common sense prevailed and we hurried home before the snow set in.

Back on the running today. The intention was to run a brisk but not flat out parkrun with clubmate Ali as she was looking to run something close to her PB of 21:35. Unfortunately the course was not ideal for running as there were patches of compacted snow and slush. Started off very conservatively and then picked up the pace as I found my feet.

Just found out that I’ve been awarded Runner of the Month at Leeds parkrun so I’ll have to get over to York to collect my free running shoes. I’ll definitely get some new road shoes for the marathon. I haven’t yet thrown out any old running shoes since staring running two and a half years ago on the basis that you never know when they’ll come in handy. Maybe now is the time to ditch my first two pairs of road shoes that now have paper thin soles.

What's to come is still unsure

Have you set your running goals for 2011? Along with the soon-to-be-forgotten New Year resolutions, a couple of years ago I added the setting of running targets to my out-with-old-in-with-the-new routine. Although these targets have been quite specific, they all more or less boil down to the same thing; run faster over a range of distances. Last year for no apparent reason I adopted a new target in about May to try and be “Racer of the Year” for my club. This is an award at the end of the year for the idiot who has run most often in the year. Unfortunately, Dave was also keen to win the award so I nearly killed myself running any race that I could get to in the autumn. There’ll be none of that nonsense this year. The only specific target I have is to run the London Marathon as quickly as I am able.

I think I “spread myself too thinly” last year and certainly didn’t give myself time to recover from the April marathon. Why is it that we meticulously plan for every minute of every day for the sixteen weeks leading up to the marathon and then don’t have a plan for a single day post-marathon? I’m going to bimble round at club training, be a 25 minute plus pacemaker at parkrun and enter not a single race in May this year.

There’s a fab 10k race in June “The Two Castles” that I can look forward to as my comeback race. As I’ll be running it with Liz’s brother-in-law it will be preceded by the consumption of copious amounts of vin rouge and a huge meal. It’s not a PB course in any case so time will be immaterial.

In my build up to London I’ll be running at a variety of races from 5k through to 20 miles. If I’m in good nick and the training is going well then who knows, I may run a PB or two. If not, c’est la vie.

To sleep and feed

I may have got hold of the wrong end of the stick here, but I’m sure that Tom said that these are the key ingredients for marathon success. That’s good then, because these are definitely two things at which I excel. Toms’ marathon talk was most informative and the time just flew by; if only time went by that quickly when actually running a marathon.

It’s been a day of time flashing past. Ran 10 miles with Helen in the afternoon and we seemed to be finishing before we’d even started. Training with someone else is just so much easier than training alone. Not too shabby a time either – 10.14 miles in 84 minutes. We ran most of the Leeds Half route which was new to me as I haven’t run that race yet.

Today marathon training seems to have started in earnest. I must admit that although I’m only in the second week of the sixteen week programme I’ve already gone off plan. I’m running more often than I’d intended. I’m taking it as a positive though it hasn’t been a conscious thing, it’s just happened.

We had a really intense club interval session on Tuesday evening when everyone seemed in good spirits. Running again today means I’ve run on six days out of the last seven.

Maybe this won’t be the low mileage preparation that I was planning. Oh well off to sleep and feed now as it’s counting towards my training.

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood

Running on four consecutive days may be all par for the course for proper runners, but it’s left me fair jiggered. Today was a 10k cross country run in Sheffield; four laps of Graves Park. There were eight Hyde Park Harriers, with five running and three supporting. By the time we got there a whole load of races for the young ‘uns had been run and the event finished with a combined race for the u20 and senior women followed by the same for the men. Ali set off in a small but select field for the ladies and from where we were stood it looked like a pretty flat course. How wrong can you be. Ali had a right battle in her race and finished well up the field.

We lined up alongside some serious looking runners from the main South Yorkshire clubs. When I got to the back side of the course I found that the ground just fell away and then climbed back again. Undulating. Bugger. I settled into a pace I was happy with and just tried to maintain an even pace behind the guy in front. The whole field got really spread out and there was virtually no overtaking in my part of the field; one guy came steaming past after about two miles and I found out later that he’d arrived a few minutes after the race had started and was working his way through the field. I overtook one runner and when the guy I’d been following peeled off to complete the three lap u20 race I was in my own bubble.

I came home in 43:24 which I was really happy with. I can recommend the race though as the marshals were terrific and the guy with the tannoy (egged on by HPH supporters) was a character.

Looking forward to a day of rest and recuperation tomorrow though.

Since brevity is the soul of wit …. I will be brief

Christ, I’m blogging twice a day. If only I could train twice a day I might get somewhere. Thing is, I just hit the send button on my earlier blog without stopping to re-read and reflect. I forgot a couple of things about parkrun that I wanted to say.

As Sam announced to the gathered runners that this was my 100th run, I felt a tap on my shoulder followed by some down to earth irreverent banter from a 70 year old who frequently finishes ahead of me and is always top age grade performer. When we were chatting at the end of the race a youngster demonstrated the Swiss Army Knife he got for Christmas. Blimey, those things have moved on; there’s a gadget for just about everything including the obligatory tool for removing boy scouts from horses hooves. The point is that you make friends with people from all age groups. Of course there is a downside to that; I haven’t decided which irritates me most, being beaten by an ankle biter or by a coffin dodger. Both are equally galling if I’m going to be honest.

Before and after the run you get chatting to both the super speedy and those who hang around at the back of the field. You get to recognise and chat to runners of all abilities and share experiences over a coffee. You have a common interest that cuts across ability and social background. I have no idea what most people do for a living; they’re just runners.

For me and Liz, parkrun was a gateway to joining a running club and doing sufficient exercise for it to be demonstrably beneficial. I know we’re not alone in gaining the confidence to join a running club as a result of running at parkrun. Of course we think our club is the friendliest running club in the area, but there are some really welcoming folk from other running clubs. We don’t see so much of the Eccleshill mob now they have their own Bradford parkrun, but they’re a top group. We’ve also become friends with some of the Valley Striders and Horsforth Harriers runners who also value the social aspects of parkrun.

Finally, I forgot to acknowledge Helen Turton for the use of her photo. Not the Swiss army knife, though I’m sure she could make it look more interesting but for the 118 photo last time.

So. Not that brief then.

How poor are they that have not patience!

Well, it’s another year over and a new one just begun. What a great way to start a new running year with my 100th parkrun. It’s not all wine and roses though, there is guilt as well; I was supposed to run my 100th with club mates Jaz and Linda on 1st January, but Linda ran the abortive Santa Dash parkrun so fell one behind. Jaz did the decent thing and missed a run so they could reach the milestone together, but I lack that level of altruism. Running my 100th on 1st January has been a target since I first realised that if I didn’t miss one then that would be when it fell.
I ran my first parkrun on 23rd August 2008. I’d started to run in public the previous month for the first time for thirty years. In the old days (not quite black & white) it was just football training and I don’t recall running anywhere but round the pitch. So at 9.00 a.m. for 100 out of the last 124 Saturday mornings I’ve run a free, measured 5km time trial. I’ve volunteered on several of those missing occasions when I’ve been injured, in need of a rest or because they were desperate.
The attraction is all of the usual suspects – it’s free, it’s always on at the same time each week, all I have to do is turn up, it’s the same course every week so I can make meaningful performance measures. The real clincher though is the people who both run and organize the events. What a great bunch of people.
Then there are all the things that give each parkrun its own unique identity. For Leeds, it’s the special events which take an awful lot of preparation and promotion – step forward Sam Dooley; the development of the students who grow in confidence and then make their own mark - Ned and Fraser; the post run coffees and chat about how we did it and what other runs we’ve got planned.
Now for the stats: I’ve run 95 of my runs in Leeds with 4 in Bradford and 1 in Coventry. On 41 occasions I’ve been first home in my age category and I’ve been “first lady” 31 times. I’ve proudly worn the orange jacket of pacemaker on four occasions and have been an unofficial pacemaker on a number of other times. I held the record for my age category at Leeds for a single week (thanks Bernie!) and for 12 weeks at Bradford. Both records are now an impossible dream.
So sorry ladies, I just couldn’t wait.