…Pain. Fear. Aggression…

Well, that was a fun start to the running week. I’m still red-faced at 1.47pm, and I finished the run at 7.45am. It was an interval training run, Marquis-de-Sade-style.

It was hard enough work trying to understand the instructions: “2 miles at 10k pace, 2 x 1 mile at 5k pace, 2 x 800m at slightly faster than 5k pace, with 5 minutes recovery after the 2 mile and 3 minutes recovery after the miles and the 800”.

This took me about 50 minutes in total, on a treadmill, and I summarise my issues with it herewith:

  1. What is 5k pace? I have never run a 5k race, so plumped for 0.5km/h faster than my 10k pace (so 14.5km/h)
  2. Seriously, you think I can run faster than that 5k pace? 15km/h? Ha ha ha.
  3. Turns out I can (just) over one set of 800m, but not over two.
  4. Can we just agree to use EITHER metric measurements OR miles? It is very confusing, as Mr N can confirm having run 0.8 miles instead of 800 metres for his 4th interval.

This run basically translates as a fast 10k race, broken up into pieces and getting harder as you go along. It is really really tough. By the final two intervals my thighs were burning 20 seconds in. It lulls you into a false sense of security with the 3 minute recoveries but do not be fooled, this is not for the faint-hearted.

Ten Mile Run and the Tempo of Doom

The Tempo of Doom was Friday’s run, followed by a day off on Saturday and a 10 miler this morning.

The tempo run was a ‘moderate’ one, 5 miles with a mile warm up / cool down either side. I had no idea how to gauge the ‘moderate’, I’m still struggling with the ‘tempo’. The best definition I can find is here.

It says that a tempo run should be “Comfortably hard; you know you’re working, but you’re not racing. At the same time, you’d be happy if you could slow down.”

Helpful.

To be honest, I think I do get it, I’m just struggling with it because it’s bloody hard. On Friday I happened to run my 5 miles at my goal half marathon pace (7mins 12s/mile), which is either good or worrying. Could I run 8.1 more miles at that pace? That is indeed the question.

I worked hard on the tempo run and it went pretty well, despite feeling like death on every incline. In comparison, today’s 10 miler was a shocker. I felt like an old lady with thighs made out of Edinburgh rock that could crumble at any time. Still managed 8 minute miles so hardly a write-off, but I’m going to have to get a whole lot faster over the next 7 weeks.

The Secret?

After work today I came home feeling knackered, hung the washing out, stood in my bedroom for about ten minutes vacillating, then finally put my new trainers on and went out for a run.

It was a dull, boring run-of-the-mill-type-run. Not fast. Not long. Nothing exciting happened, well nothing I haven’t seen or experienced in one of the 200 other times I’ve run that exact route. I barely remember doing it. Yet when I unlocked the door and came in the flat for the second time tonight, everything was different. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t worrying about all the things I had to do or feeling down on myself.

If I achieve nothing else with this day, or this week, tonight I went for a run when I really didn’t want to and that makes me happy. Maybe these runs are the ones that count? The ones in between the races and the fancy training sessions.

Following this Nike-Advertisement-style high, I have rewarded myself with a night of crap TV. Not feeling quite so good about my thighs after The Model Agency, but at least I don’t have to work there.

New Shoes

It’s time to wear in some new trainers.

This is my fourth pair of the same: Asics GT-2150 (D). They’re a wide fitting, as regular fit ones hurt the outsides of my feet. Ten years ago, when I was training for the London marathon, I got a stress fracture in the fifth metatarsal of my right foot three weeks before the race. It was heartbreaking to have to pull out after all that training, but more so because I’d brought it on myself: I went out in new shoes for a long run without breaking them in.

Despite this bitter lesson, I’m still tempted to pop on the new trainers and dash out for a 6 mile run as soon as they arrive in the post. I always leave it too late to get new ones – my old ones should have been retired at least a month ago. I’ve been putting it off for a few reasons: they’re expensive and I’m going through too many (at 25 miles a week, the recommended 300-500 miles is only 3-5 months); Al Gore; Sweatshops; but mainly because I ran my first marathon, ten years on from the one that never was, in them.

I know they’re not magic shoes, I’ll run another marathon, and at this rate I’ll get through another 30 pairs before I’m 50, so I think I’m ready to bin the old pair and walk around for a bit in my new shoes.

Spring!

Spring has officially sprung in running world. Yesterday I ran around Regent’s Park after work for the first time this year.

The early blossom is out and hung like frozen confetti in the gloom as I passed the York Gate (this is not my photograph,  no sun for me yesterday). Daffodils bobbed their heads in my wake and Greylag Geese blocked the path, staring down their orange beaks at me in an unimpressed fashion.

It was a great run, I am very happy to say. “7 x 800m at 10k pace, recover for half the interval time”, which translated as “fast for 3m 20 secs, slow for 1m 40 secs”. I’m not sure this was mathematically accurate as far as the distance went, but more importantly it made the intervals fit into 5 minute sections, which helped my poor brain cope with knowing when to start and stop.

It’s quite worrying how difficult I find timing myself. I sometimes spend whole runs calculating and re-calculating my speed or pace; maths was never my strong suit. One day I will do what my dad once did and get to mile 12 in a half marathon and be astounded that there is another mile left to run, having missed some mile markers and mis-counted my running speed. All the way along I will think, “this is going so well! this is so easy!”.

Two Weeks’ In

After five days’ straight running I am taking a day off today. Cue sunshine and blue skies. Despite being tired and struggling to run fast this week, I feel really positive about the training plan.

Two weeks’ in, I’m already seeing the logic in the sessions. An interval run with long intervals requires you to understand your limits, choose a sustainable pace and stick to it.  In an interval training session with short (2 minute) bursts I tend to run hell-for leather in an uncontrolled way, as fast as I can manage, with no clue whether each burst is faster or slower than the last. This method is helping me become faster over longer periods, which makes sense for the half-marathon distance.

The tempo runs are still a bit of a mystery to me. I wonder if that’s because, when I’m feeling good, I tend to up my tempo anyway? 

 The “Race-Sim”, an easy few miles followed by a faster few miles, gives me hope that I might be able to speed up over the course of the race, rather than starting out way too fast and then dying in the last 3 miles.

All in all it’s been an enlightening week – 28 miles in total and some serious hard work put in. I also learned a valuable lesson: don’t give blood in the week before a race.

(Smarty) Pants

Race-Sim 9 miles, 6 easy/ 3 at goal race pace plus 20 to 30 seconds.

There is no doubt, after this, that my running performance has been affected by giving blood on Monday. I ran with Mr notajogger, who is of similar fitness and speed to me (not quite faster, yet, sir), who found it easy and too slow. I, on the other hand, was panting so hard at the end I felt like I might never catch my breath. I struggled to run 8.5 minute miles in the first section, and felt like 7.5 minute miles were going to kill me in the second.

This is all rather worrying. 7.5 minute miles are my regular running pace. I’m aiming for a sub 1.34 half marathon (my pb) so need to be running 7m 10s miles in the race. On today’s performance that is as likely as me winning the olympic marathon in 2012.

However, I finished it. I didn’t stop, even when it felt like a lead weight was attached to each ankle, even when the rain was dripping off my nose, even though I thought about taking a short-cut with every passing street.

Now I’m sitting on my sofa drinking the coffee of the righteous, the smugness has set in. My face is warm with the glow of complacency and if you wanted to punch it, I would understand. In case you want any further motivation, allow me to boast that I just scored 382 in scrabble. Not that I am competitive.

Good Day Sunshine

My running was terrible today – I felt exhausted and out of breath at the slightest incline. It made me worry about tomorrow’s 9 miler, given how quickly I got tired on an ‘easy run’. However, none of this matters.

It was such a beautiful day today that being outside in the sunshine, plodding through Priory Park, listening to Sufjan Stevens, life seemed perfect for 38 minutes. As long as I could keep moving and not actually die of exhaustion, I couldn’t do anything but count this as a Good Day.

It’s amazing how much difference the weather can make. A cliche I know, but who cares. I wore shorts for the first time since October!

Bad Tempo

Tempo run (hard): 20 minutes, plus a mile warmup and cooldown.

This was exhausting. I still felt tired from yesterday so I decided to run home from work. Running after I get home is so hard on a Friday night, pretty much impossible. If I take my kit to work in the morning I make a visible commitment to doing the run. I have to sacrifice taking my handbag and, more importantly, my book as i can’t carry them home. There’s no way I could take the tube home carrying my trainers instead of wearing them, the guilt would be too much.

I mapped today’s run on mapmyrun.com to try and keep the 20 minute stretch to flat, straight roads. Tricky in Islington, but 10 minutes in to the tempo section i was grateful for every traffic light. Perhaps I took the suggestion (hard) a bit too seriously.

After 15 minutes, on the mild incline of Highbury Park, I had to stop for a cyclist and ended up walking for about half a minute. I ran the rest of the 20 fairly fast but I feel like that was a failed training run. Still, I worked hard and clocked up another 5 miles. An “easy run” tomorrow, then something vaguely hideous is lurking on Sunday. Eep.

Yew Gee Aitch

Ugh. Yesterday was bad; today was worse. My thighs were aching from the first hill and they still hurt now. And i only managed 4 miles. Slowly. I don’t ever remember this happening the day after an interval training run.

Could it be anything to do with the blood donation? I don’t think so – I didn’t feel short of oxygen, I just ached. It must just be because I worked so very hard in the gym yesterday. If i were American, or more positive, or a man, I might not be moaning- i would be “owning” the pain. A righteous pain! A pain to be proud of!

Ugh.