Eye of newt, and toe of frog, wool of bat, and tongue of dog …

OK. I admit I couldn’t get hold of any of those ingredients, but now I’ve started on longer runs they are being followed by consumption of some strange brews. The base is something called “Pharma whey”, which sounds like something a milkmaid may cry out in a moment of passion, but is nowhere near as much fun. I believe some people just mix it with water and down it after a run. I tried it that way once and almost gagged. The trick is to put a couple of scoops in the blender, lob in a banana (and anything else that’s been hanging around in the fruit bowl for a while) add water and yoghurt and whizz it up.

I took out a mortgage and bought a big tub in preparation for London last year and still had half left so I had to enter this year just to use the damn stuff up. You need to proceed with caution though. After one particularly gruelling run last year Liz made up a potion using frozen fruit. The resultant ice cream headache from dogging it off too quickly was so intense it made me weep.

I ran further today than at any time since the marathon last year. I was aiming to run sixteen eight minute miles but I felt a hamstring twinge after four miles so slowed the pace right down as I really needed to get a long run in, irrespective of the time. Ran out to Golden Acre Park, out the back to Eccup, across the A61 to Shadwell, short stretch on the ring road and back up Harrogate Road to Eccup. Threw in a lap of the rezza and ran back past our house to the Dyneley Arms to get the mileage up. 18.69 miles in two hours and forty minutes. Confidence boosted by getting in a long run, but worrying that the hamstrings and calves might let me down.

It was a cracking morning with loads of runners about getting their long runs in. I’ve got three twenty mile runs planned for the next three Sundays and none of them are solo runs, so it feels like training should be more enjoyable from here on in. Not planning on doing anything excessive for the rest of each week, just keep things ticking over. For one thing I couldn’t face more than one whey based smoothie per week.

Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold

I haven’t put the miles in this week – I’ve been feeling under the weather. I was worn out from the national cross country championships in the early part of the week, but felt that a run might perk me up. I was wrong. On Tuesday I ran from home to The Edge for our running club session and then trotted round with group 3. Seemed like I made the right choice of group as group 4 had what sounds like a challenging run. I ran just short of 13 miles in two hours and it wore me out. I’ll need to get a decent long run in this weekend if I’m to give of my best at Trimpell a week on Sunday. Longest run to date is fifteen miles as a combination of poor weather, the nationals, a lunatic driving her car through my front wall and now a dripping cold have put paid to my training schedule.

I thought I’d try some other exercise as I wasn’t up to running. You know what it’s like when everyone else uses a phrase, but you haven’t a clue what it means? Cross-training is something that I wasn’t familiar with until recently. For me a cross trainer was one of those elliptical machines in the gym that you do Nordic skiing style movement on. Leaves you completely knackered after about three minutes. Couldn’t really figure it out when someone said they were going swimming as they fancied a spot of cross training. I’ve got it now, and I think I may have done some cross training this week. I’m not up to cycling or swimming though – just walking. I’m not sure whether you use different muscle groups when you walk rather than run, but I’m not safe on a bike and the sight of me in my budgie-smugglers would clear the pool, so walking it is.

Thought I’d go up a couple of hills and go at a fair clip just to make sure some calories got burned. On Thursday I climbed out of Settle up to Attermire Scar and then back to Settle via Langcliffe. It was a gorgeous afternoon, and if I’d known that Friday was going to be rainy, I would have extended the walk. I walked 4.25 miles in 1 hour 15 minutes, including stopping to admire the views from time to time. On Friday I parked in Horton and did a circular walk of Pen-y-ghent. Just over 6 miles in 1 hour and 50 minutes. Plenty of stops to get my breath back and clean my glasses. It was low cloud and I could see bugger all from about half way up. I was going to walk either Whernside or Ingleborough, but there was no point as the visibility was so limited.

Feeling much better now. On with the training.


http://www.justgiving.com/LizJones1.

O horror, horror, horror

Both my kids assure me that I said “Never again” shortly after completing my only marathon to date, the 2010 London Marathon. I find this hard to believe as (a) I always had it in mind to run a marathon with Liz and (b) I felt I could get a faster time than my 2010 effort. On completing the National Cross Country Championships I definitely did say “Never again” and meant it.

I must go around with my eyes closed and a beatific expression on my face. Either that or I have some sort of selective hearing problem, as I was completely unprepared for the scene that greeted us when we arrived at Alton Towers for the cross country. A sea of mud as far as the eye could see. Each year they show clips of Glastonbury on TV and I mumble things like “What kind of an idiot would go there and call it fun” and there I was up to my ankles in mud, about to have my own “fun”.

The first sign that something was not quite right was the fleet of ambulances making their way from the site. The news that St John Ambulance had requested a delay in the programme as they were struggling to keep up with the high number of incidents caused by falls on the course and the cold weather added to the frisson of excitement. A section of the course to which first-aiders and ambulances were unable to gain easy access was eliminated leading to a revision of the course for the later races. Ours was shortened from 12k to 10k in order to ensure the programme was completed before the light began to fail.

The delays were hardest on the girls under 15s as they were stood around for ages waiting for their race to start. Well done to Ellie and Bex for giving it their best under trying circumstances. After their race we got changed ready to run. The time I’d spent the previous day cleaning up my trail shoes so they’d look their best for the nationals was time completely wasted. We found a decent spot towards the top of a hill and cheered on the ladies. This was the first time I’d seen top class athletes live and they’re different from us plodders. How can they function without any noticeable body fat? It was good to see some familiar vests and cheer on runners from the Yorkshire clubs.

I didn’t really get a feel for just how difficult the course was until we set off on our race. There was no escaping the mud. I set off at what I considered to be a sustainable pace only to find I couldn’t sustain it. I was soon clarted up and regretting my little bimble round parkrun in the morning. After a long slog I finished in 1,082nd place in a time of 59:10. Thanks to anyone who gave me a cheer along the way, didn’t recognise everyone, but maybe our vest is becoming known as well.

Oh well, I’ve just read a report stating it was “a course that many runners called the muddiest they had ever experienced”. Maybe “Never again” was just obiter dicta, soon to be forgotten and not to be taken seriously. Where are the nationals next year? Pass me my diary.

The man that hath no music in himself

I appear to have added a new exercise to my training; dancing. Well, not exactly dancing as that would be well beyond my capabilities; more moving to music. Along with a few running buddies, we’ve signed up to “perform” in a version of Frankenstein to be “re-imagined” at Kirkstall Abbey in March. It’s going to be live on national television – well BBC3 anyway. We’ll be part of a 2,000 strong set of wedding guests dancing with the happy couple. Liz had a look at a video clip of the dance and announced that it was “straightforward” a couple of others posted on Facebook declaring it “easy”. When I had a look at it I thought it was about as comprehensible as a Bobby Fischer chess gambit. This different way of looking at things is a clear case of what my friend Simon would call “bird logic” (he’s divorced now).

We rolled up for a dance workshop yesterday afternoon and went through the routine. There was a really effective warm up, which I wish I could remember as it did the business. Another guy then de-constructed the dance in a way that even I could follow (mostly). We now have to practice until the performance on 19th March, so I’ve tacked it onto the end of my stretching routine. Yes, I know; if I only do the dance when I stretch then I’ll probably only do it twice between now and the performance. Because I have no “feel” for music and I’m so useless at dancing it’ll make me do the stretching as well as the dance. The only downside is we have to dance to this dirge-like torch song by someone called Adele; apparently she’s ditched her second name. It’s probably one of those songs that some people have as their favourites, but I’m sick of it already. At least she doesn’t strangle every note like Whitney and Celine (I’m getting into this single name thing).

I had my first run since Sunday today. Eight miles steady at eight minute miles. Felt a bit stiff, but ok. It was a gorgeous morning with woodpeckers drumming and skylarks larking about, so a good day to be out and about. I want to get a longish run in tomorrow so it’s out of my legs for Saturday when we’re running at the national cross country championships which may be a somewhat chastening experience.

No enemy but winter and rough weather

If you’d told me three years ago that I’d spend a cold, wet, miserable Sunday morning in February running around Hartshead Moor Services I would’ve wondered where it’d all gone wrong. Yet today that’s exactly what I did and I had a great time.

I was so keen to run Liversedge half marathon I entered the race three times; senility not so much creeping as galloping along there. There were extenuating circumstances, but they weren’t that extenuating. Wonder if anything else extenuates? I’d run from Roberttown before and if memory serves me well it absolutely chucked it down on that day as well. The weather was nowhere near as bad as had been predicted and it was fine when we set off.

My objective was to run as close to 1:30 as possible, but I had no real strategy about how to do that. Caught up to Claire from Eccleshill after the first mile; she usually beats me when she’s on form but her heart wasn’t really in it today. She still won the first prize in her age category mind. I pushed on and I just kept trying to hang on to the group ahead. I saw a fairly familiar club vest ahead; what may look like a great design in a catalogue looked like a jesters outfit to me and who wants to be beaten by a jester? You may as well run with a target on your back. I guess I’ll try and use anything to keep the motivation going and overtake while I’m still able. At 4 miles I remembered that I hadn’t plastered up my nipples. Nothing I can do except look forward to an uncomfortable few days.

After crossing the M62, there was a vertiginous downhill to the mile 5 marker and I really leathered it down the hill in the certain knowledge that we had to run back up later in the race. I got up the “hill from hell” without needing to walk; I must have kept up a decent pace as I didn’t think about walking and nobody went past me. I found myself on familiar territory – sixth leg of the Calderdale Way relay. Mixed feelings as I enjoyed running with Adrian, but I was by some way the weakest member of the team.

Keep myself concentrating by looking out for the mile markers and clicking the lap counter on the Garmin. Everyone else seems to have their Garmin programmed to automatically record mile/kilometre points, but I haven’t figured that one out yet.

There was a long slow drag from mile 9 to 10 that was really sapping and I get overtaken by a few on this bit. More or less downhill from there, but the wind seemed to be holding me up. I really struggled for the last couple of miles. I was only slightly apoplectic (can one be slightly apoplectic?) at “The Gray Ox”. Misspelling a pub name is just not acceptable and using an American spelling is even worse. The sign looked more like a pig than an ox until you got to about three inches from it. Definitely porcine (geddit)!

I felt like I was standing still for most of the last mile (I felt like I was going backwards for the rest of it). I picked my feet up for a dash up the cruel hill to the finish line. Thanks to Jo for being kind enough to say it looked like a strong finish.

I came 61st in 1:34:55. By one of those strange quirks I ended up with a prize for finishing 3rd in the MV50 category. I was over ten minutes behind the guy who finished 2nd in my category so I did feel a bit of a fraud. It was good to see Chris T out in a Hyde Park Harrier vest putting in a terrific performance in his first half. Thanks to Mick and Rob for their support around the course (and for looking after my yukky cap).

It’s a year since I started to blog about my first attempt to prepare for the London marathon (http://chrisdoeslondon.blogspot.com/). I feel a lot better prepared than at this stage last year, despite slower times at Brass Monkey and Dewsbury 10k. No races for a bit, I just need to get a couple of long runs in prior to the three local(ish) 20 milers.

Here’s a link to Liz’s Just Giving page http://www.justgiving.com/LizJones1

We that are true lovers run into strange capers

Well, we didn’t make the cut for the Great North Run this year. I got an e-mail from Liz’s brother-in-law saying he hadn’t got a ballot place either so why not enter the Great Langdale half instead? Result. We ran it the year before last and it was a mighty strange running caper. Breathtaking in more ways than one. I managed 1:38 last time, but not sure I can match that again, I’ll have to get in some serious hill work as there are loads of ups and downs and not many straights. Seem to remember joyfully overtaking lots of other runners in the final mile last time and repairing to the pub that overlooks the finish line for a couple of well-deserved pints. Half way down the second pint I recognised a group of runners I’d overtaken so smugly; they’d run it twice and were just finishing the second lap of their full marathon. Chastened.

It’s good to get my head out of the marathon trough and have a look at some running later in the year. I’m back in harness with marathon training with no pulls, strains or niggles to report. The cynical side of me would describe my current state as being between injuries, but let’s make the most of it. Had a tough club training session on Tuesday evening. Rick decided that Kirkstall Hills wasn’t sufficiently testing so had us running all the way up several of them and then carrying on up over two road junctions to give us some long slogs rather than the “normal” short, sharp ascents. Finished off with a two mile charge back to base trying to keep up with some improbably quick youngsters. 7.7 miles in 70 minutes – seemed a lot harder than that.

Wednesday was a day off, but had my running fix by going to a University of Leeds lecture delivered by the Brownlees and their coaches with Tom as compere. They came across as humble and laid back, but very hard working. Didn’t feel inspired to widen my athletic exercise to incorporate swimming or cycling though.

Thursday was a gorgeous winter day so I cleaned up the trail shoes and headed out over the fields to Cookridge and then back on a circular route via Pinfold Lane. Took it steady (4.23 miles in 37 minutes), but pleased with that considering I had to slow down for about a zillion stiles. Also did some trip-trapping around the boggiest bits and pussyfooting around those open gateways where the cattle have trampled it into a quagmire.

Feeling good for the Liversedge half – not sure if a hilly half is ideal preparation for a flat marathon; people I race against finished between 89 and 92 minutes last year so it can’t be that bad can it?

I'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes

…. but I may never manage to run a 10k in that time. Maybe girdling the earth is a cake-walk and any fool could do it in their sleep. I keep telling myself that the marathon is my only “A” race this year and that all other races are at best training and at worst a distraction. When I felt the hamstring tighten on last Monday’s loosener I did think “For Puck’s sake, there goes any chance of a PB at Dewsbury” and so it turned out.

I didn’t run all week and offered the leg up for three painful massages. I tested the hamstring at parkrun on Saturday and I could feel it from start to finish. I set off tentatively and gradually got quicker, but knew that I couldn’t go full throttle. It was my 100th run at Leeds parkrun (my 105th overall) and in a week of free running goodies I collected my black parkrun jacket and technical T shirt.

Given my inability to attempt a PB, I’d decided to aim for 43 minutes and run with clubmates Ali and Ellie. It didn’t work out that way as the wind was a killer. Was on track with Ellie for the first 4k with Ali some way behind. By the turnaround we were off the pace and Ali was a little way ahead. Despite being one of the least interesting of runs, I really like the out and back nature of Dewsbury, you get a chance to admire the running styles and sheer determination of the fast runners and to cheer at (and be cheered by) runners you know.

The wind didn’t seem to behave itself or blow logically. There was a definite head wind all the way out and then either a cross-wind or a swirling head wind on the way back. Perhaps I’m psychologically programmed to only register conditions when they’re unhelpful. We struggled between 6k and 9k but came home in under 46 minutes. I was so intent on keeping a decent pace going and cursing the wind that I didn’t think about the hamstring at all and it seems ok after the event.

The marathon training has lost momentum this week with four rest days, no long run and mileage down. There’s enough flexibility to get back on track and I don’t suppose there’s such a thing as a perfect plan that is precisely executed.

I’ll come back to having a go at a forty minute 10k when the marathon is done and I’ve had time to recover. Maybe I can do some race specific training for the Abbey Dash. Some track sessions would help. I think I can improve at all distances, just need to focus on one at a time instead of the current shotgun approach.

A kind good-night to all!

I’ve returned from the adidas marathon evening with an armful of goodies and I don’t appear to have signed up to anything. I did fill out a form for a draw to win an adidas miCoach, so unless that was a cunning plan to get me signed up for an unwanted time share, I think I got away with it.

They gave over fifty pairs of shoes away and each of us ran over a scan mat to check out whether we were pronators. I ended up with a pair of SNova Sequence road shoes. They rabbited on about “adaptive midfoot support” and “improved flex zones” and I just zoned out after a while. I like running shoes, but I don’t really want the science bit, especially as I suspect it’s mostly made up.

We had a talk on marathon running and preparation from Andi Jones who was very good and really humble and a talk on nutrition from a Lucozade sports scientist, who covered her area of expertise adequately. I didn’t stay for the physio lady to talk about sports injuries as I’d just abandoned the car in a shady area.

Missed the Latics thrashing Hartlepool, but most matches don’t live long in the memory whereas I suspect the marathon and the preparation for it will stay with me for a good time.

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together

Usually the day after a race I take a rest day, but this week I wanted to get my long slow run in early so it would be out of my legs for the Sunday race. I thought there was an off chance I might manage a PB at the Dewsbury 10k so I wanted to give myself the best possible opportunity.

I went for a slow run round the fields close to home, but instead of the legs getting looser as I ran they got tighter. I had to walk/hobble the last mile as my left hamstring was giving me some grief. 5.4 miles in 56 minutes.

Gave my Monday gym session over to a massage (which was agony) and have been icing on and off all day Tuesday. I was going to miss club training this evening anyway as the mighty Latics are taking on Hartlepool. At the last minute I got what sounds like a better offer (not difficult, I know). It was one of those phone calls that started “Do you remember entering a competition…”? Of course I didn’t, but apparently I’ve won a pair of FREE adidas footwear and an invitation to a marathon coaching evening. When the e-mail duly arrived I scrutinised it to find the catch, but there didn’t appear to be one. Even the small print was only a statement that I was only entitled to the one free pair. I guess “FREE adidas footwear” could be almost anything and may not be the kosher, top of the range running shoes that I have in mind. Still, I’m from Yorkshire so am a firm believer in “owt for nowt”. I’ll stick my shorts on under a tracky and see if I can blag a free massage.

Of course it means missing the football. This may be something of a relief as our current team has developed this habit of taking the lead, marmalizing the opposition for most of the match and then panicking in the last quarter and conceding soft goals. We’ve managed to let slip one 3 goal lead, three 2 goal leads and six one goal leads so far this season. It will be a first for my eldest though; the first match that he’s gone to and I haven’t. Something of a coming of age, rite of passage type of thing. Not for him. For me. It feels like I’m out on licence from my life sentence of watching the dross served up in the third tier of English football.

All I have to do is keep my wits about me at the adidas store; I have an awful vision of coming away with a pair of flip flops and a time share for a chalet in Cleethorpes.