The Fall of Rome.

As followers of this Blog are well aware, after failing to crack the holy grail of a sub-3 hour marathon in Rome last year, missing the target with 03:00:30  it was back to the drawing board this year with a new schedule & a couple of new training partners, both of whom had Championship starting places in London. Right, the good news is that I finished! Hurrah!! There now follows a short partially demented analysis of the race...


This year I was on the red 'good for age' start. After observing a 30 second silence in memory of those who suffered at last weeks Boston Marathon, the race started. My game plan was to try to run at an even 6:45/mi pace, which would have given me a 2:56:58 finishing time. However, being surrounded by faster club runners, I found myself getting dragged along far too fast and from thereon in I struggled to get a firm control over my pacing. In other words, I struggled to slow up until pain and cramp made me do so...

Passing so many sights is one thing - Greenwich, Cutty Sark, Tower Bridge etc. but what the pictures on the television can't convey is the cacophony of sound that, with the exception of the area around Billingsgate Fish Market, follows you for every step of the way; people cheering, banging thunder sticks, music blasting out, loud hailers, bands playing en route, it's just immense. I had my name printed on the front of my club vest and was, consequently, being name checked by all and sundry.

I felt good, almost too good and I passed the halfway in 1:24, however, by the time I passed the 17 mile mark and because of the early turn of speed I could feel my legs starting to stiffen and my feet were starting to hurt, presumably swelling in my shoes. I then began to have my very own 'Battle of Canary Wharf' as I battle both mental and physical pain. My mind was somewhat befuddled as I desperately tried to work out split times & paces in my mind, but I struggled on, doing the best that I could, and was only able to start to make a good guess at my finishing time, based on current pace and distance left, once I passed the 20 mile marker at 12:04pm - 6.2 miles at roughly 7:30(ish)./mi pace would take me about 50 minutes. Time to dig in and keep moving forward no matter how much it hurt. I jogged on along Embankment, focusing on reaching Big Ben where I knew that I would turn right & head down Birdcage Walk. Try as I might though, I just couldn't get my legs to turn over any quicker. In front of Buckingham Palace, where this time I had the presence of mind, unlike in 2007, to actually look at the place just before I turned right and headed down The Mall, finally crossing the finish line in 791st place with a time of 2:54:22, putting me in the top 2.5% of finishers!!!

My daughter sent me a text to say that she'd seen me finish on the telly & that I looked like I was going to cry. Just to let her know - I did shed a little tear, and with good reason too. It took a great deal of work to get where I now am and I am still amazed that I managed it...

After collecting my finishers medal, goody bag, and my personal belongings, I dug my mobile phone out of my bag and ignoring all the text messages for a moment, as promised, one of the first people I rang was Jaykee Boy to give him the good news. Within minutes I had met with both him and MattEll, and their respective partners, offspring etc, on the grass, in the shade, under some trees for a catch-up and to share news etc. before MrsC joined us to complete our little gathering. After that, it was back to our hotel for a well earned rest and recuperation session...

Of course, the only way for me to celebrate is the same way that I did in Rome. Pizza & beer. First, a pizza & quick beer with MrsC then a celebratory beer or three with fellow club runners Fee & Mikee in Green Park.

No matter what I achieve in the remainder of my running career, this one will be forever in my memory...
The fall of Rome and the glory of London...
The end of the road and, alas, the end of my training blogs...
La fine.

 

 

 

Bring me that horizon...

Monday was a day of mixed emotions. I didn't run, as it was a scheduled rest day, and at lunchtime I clambered into the pool and, using floats between my legs to rest my lower limbs, put in 32 lengths. After work I had a good massage and leg stretching session. When I got home I sat in front of the laptop and watched the online coverage of the 117th Boston Marathon. I watched Ethiopian Lelisa Desisa cross the finishing line in 2:10:22, closely followed by Micah Kogo & Gebre Gebremariam, The ladies race was won by Kenyan Rita Jeptoo in 2:26:25 followed by Meseret Hailu & Sharon Cherop. I watched other runners coming across the line for another hour then, as MrsC was due home from her pre-natal exercise classes, I went out to the kitchen to cook tea. Less than half an hour later I received a text message from a friend to ask if I'd seen what was happening at the marathon. Slightly puzzled, I walked back into the living room and discovered the shocking events unravelling thousands of miles away... I was stunned by what I saw. It's difficult to describe the mix of raw emotions that I felt as I watched what should have been a celebration of hum endeavour and achievement turn into a scene of devastation...

The following day, Tuesday, the organisers of the Virgin London Marathon met with Police to review security measures in the aftermath of the bombings and Met Police Commissioner Sir Bernard Hogan-Howe sought to reassure people the London race would be safe, saying that "We are reviewing our plans which is sensible... We will increase searching, we will make sure we've got more officers on the street looking after people, making sure they're safe. We've no reason to think they're any less safe than they were before the terrible events in Boston." Upon registration for Sundays London Marathon runners will be given a black ribbon to wear as a mark of respect for the people of Boston. The race itself will start after a planned 30 second silence and they are also being encouraged to put their hand on their heart as they cross the finishing line. Whatever happens, it's certainly going to be an emotional day for more than a few reasons...

The Bristol - Bath Railway Path (again)

Tuesday, with emotions still a bit raw from the news coming from Boston, and for some strange reason this tune stuck in my head on an internal loop, I put in a 10K run at lunchtime, once again incorporating the Bristol-Bath Railway Path, at an average pace of 6:48/mi (what?) and, after work, a pull-buoy assisted 26 lengths in the pool, as that was all I had time for. When I say that was all I had time for, the reason for this is that it doesn't feel as if I'm spending enough time with MrsC at the moment, so I wanted to get home and make sure that some of the chores were done, and her tea was cooked, so that she wouldn't have to do anything when she got home from work...

A road often travelled & a bridge often traversed...

One of the first training runs I did when I embarked upon my training schedule was with my running buddy, JaykeeBoy, and it seemed somewhat befitting the occasion that we met up on Wednesday lunchtime to put in one final pre-London run together. We chatted about the intricacies of race-day preparation & travel arrangements as the VLM is a large animal of a race & Jaykee knows all about my starting place as he was there himself last year. This year he will be on the elite start and should finish 15 minutes ahead of me. We ran our well trodden route out and around Compton Dando at an average pace of 7:00/mi, completing the 8 mile distance in 56 minutes, which was pretty good going considering the hilly nature of the route and the nasty headwind that seemed to blow against us throughout the run. At the conclusion of the run I expressed my thanks to Jaykee. He was gutted for me when I failed to crack 3 hours in Rome last year and he's been there offering both help & support to me since I embarked upon my London training, going out of his way to run with me and to cajole me along whenever I have found the going tough. To be fair, I could have done the training alone, but he's made it feel so much easier and he will be the first person, after the wife, who I phone after I've finished the race.

And so to Thursday. My last run before the big day. No work, thankfully, as the plan was to have a restful day before following in the footsteps of Dick Whittington and travelling to the big smoke. After waving the wife off to work I simply put in a steady 5 mile... No banging out a pace, just a steady jog and even slower on any uphill sections. Nothing more simple as that. When I finished I walked back into the house and reflected upon the journey that is so nearly at it's completion. It was quite an emotional moment to look back and realise just how far I have come and how far/hard I have pushed my 40+ body to get where I am now. Never have I been fitter and never have I been so mentally prepared for any task set before me.

So there you have it; my London Marathon training is complete, as are my training blogs. There's just on more left for to write, just to let you know how I got on...
At the outset of that journey I had so many plans and aspirations, and within 18 weeks, oh so many things have changed for me and the world in which we live... I've experienced the highs of brilliant runs, the lows of injuries, been battered and blown by some of the worst winter weather since the last ice age, and had more attacks from the gingerbread man than is good for anyones digestive system. No journey through life can follow the path that you set out on, all we can hope is that along the way we can bring love, joy, happiness, and friendship to those we encounter... The last four lines of Rudyard Kiplings 'If..' seem apt here:

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

18 week marathon training schedule totals
Run miles: 1031.53
Swim lengths/metres: 1801/45025m
Sit-ups: 11520
Press-ups: 5760
Gingerbread moments: Off the bloody scale...

 



 

The Final Countdown.

I know that I'm nearly there. Fourteen weeks of training in freezing cold wind, rain, & snow - enough to ensure that a Martian Ice Warrior is frozen in time; forsaking much of what small amount of social life I have; starting work early in the mornings, in fact reorganising my entire working life to fit in longer lunchtime runs and/or swimming sessions; crawling off to bed at 9:30pm because I can no longer stay awake; being unable to remember appointment times and dates, but knowing every scheduled training mileage & split times for a week
in advance... But most of all - I am shattered. My body is fatigued, but to a point whereby I am struggling to stay asleep in order to let my body recover. It is no secret among athletes that in order to improve performance you've got to work hard. However, hard training breaks you down and makes you weaker. It is rest that makes you stronger... Thankfully, to compensate for the fatigue, I am blessed with the most welcome part of any marathon schedule - the taper.  Tapering is the most overlooked phase of marathon preparation. It basically means cutting back your training, so that your body can rebuild to peak strength, thus allowing your muscles to repair the micro-damage of intervals, your energy systems to store up glycogen, your body to overcome the chronic dehydration of hard training, and that last bit of tendonitis in your knee or ankle or hip to finally go away.

An effective marathon taper takes about 3 weeks, but a runners self-confidence is a fragile thing and our egos require the positive reinforcement of a hard workout every few days. Seriously, if we take a few days, let alone 3 weeks easy, we get withdrawal symptons... It's like runners PMT with tonnes of excess energy!! 

Tuesday saw an early start and busy day at work. I'm conscious that I'm having some time off of

work due to the marathon, to incorporate both pre and post race rest, so I'm trying to offset the workload that I will be returning to by getting as much done as possible before I go... I managed to fit in a small(ish) swim session during my lunchbreak before racing back off to the other side of Bath to attend to some urgent jobs.
Post work saw a return to the Whitehall track. The evenings session, for me, was to put in 2 miles (8 laps) as a warm up, 3x1600m at my 5K pace with 400m recovery laps, followed by a mile warm down. Unexpectedly, during the course of the evening, I even ran my fastest ever track mile - 5:28 !!! As expected, and as usual, it was a painful experience leaving me on my hands and knees at trackside gasping for air, but if you had told me six months ago that I could run that fast then I wouldn't have believed you...

A swap in schedule occurred on Wednesday lunchtime when I decided to run Thursdays 8 miles a day early and attacked the hills around Compton Dando with some work colleagues. As they are slower than myself I was able to call it an 'easy jog', enjoy the scenery, and smell the flowers along the way. For once there was no cold wind or rain. Instead it was pleasant in a Springtime kind of way that I had forgotten existed.
In the evening I was fortunate enough to get along to Easy Runner for an Adidas tech talk where I got to try out a pair of Boost running shoes. Suffice to say, they are good, very good, and I really would like a pair, although until they come down in price then I'm afraid that all I can do is wish.

 

The main reason that I had changed my routine was in order for me to honour a promise that I had made to two runners. Both had expressed an interest in joining the beginners group at Bitton Road Runners and I had said that I would meet up and run with one of them. Arrangements were made and I duly trotted off at a pedestrian 10/mi pace for a four mile route that was just above comfortable for my running partner. We chatted (well, alright, I chatted & she snatched words between breaths) and, hopefully, she enjoyed it even though it rained. It was nice to able to give something back to the running community. I must admit, I do like to tell beginners that I used to be an overweight, exercise hating, beer swilling, chain smoking, couch potato, and that I too started out in the beginners group. My point being that if I can improve and run better then anyone can...

The Pensford 10K in relief map form.

Friday has become, by tradition, 'Peppershells' day, when I give myself the opportunity to pit myself against the nasty gradient that can be found halfway around the Pensford 10K route. I will freely admit that this route truly does bring out the masochist in me. Traditionally this run is done as a group with others from the office, but on this occasion the others opted for a shorter 4 mile route. Far too short for my marathon ready legs. Rain threatened so I wore a gilet, which, as the run progressed, was a mistake as the sun came out and I started to overheat. I took off at a fair old pace and cracked off 7.64 miles in 52 minutes, inclusive of nasty hills. I got the chance to fully open up my legs on the final 2.5 mile downhill section. At one point I looked at my GPS and saw that I was running at sub-6 minute mile pace!!

All this moving runs around from one day to the next also allowed me to free up my weekend somewhat in order to give me something that I cannot remember doing for a long while - having a lie-in on a Sunday morning!
This was achieved by swapping Sundays longer 13 mile run with Saturdays 5 miler. Thus, early on Saturday morning I was up and out of the house in order to run from Kingswood, through Hanham, out to Keynsham, where I put in a loop of the Federated Estate, before heading to Bitton, along the Railway Path to Warmley, then back up to Kingswood and home. Thirteen miles in slightly less than 93 minutes.
After all the training worries I have experienced over the past few weeks, these two consecutive fast-paced runs I have now made quietly confident that I may just have cracked the ability to run a marathon at 6:50/mi pace.

So, onto Sunday and the bliss of a lie-in; although I class anything past 7am as a lie-in these days... A leisurely few hours was spent in bed before we relocated to Frenchay Common to watch, support, take photos of some of the participants of the Frenchay 10K run past. M&S & B&Q were visited later in the day before I ran 4.75 miles from home to Keynsham Leisure Centre, where I put in a very easy 32 lengths. Once again, to rest the legs I used floats.

So that's it. All I have to do for the next week is stay injury and stress free, eat lots of carbohydrates, and only do 'light exercise' In less than a week from now it will all be over. All being well I will have run up the Mall and crossed the finishing line in less than 3 hours and, after that, I shall be in a pub, somewhere near Euston Station, getting mildly drunk on Fullers London Pride, and demanding pizza. Incorporated within the rest of the long weekend will be sightseeing galore and getting reacquainted with my rapidly enlarging wife, who I have shamefully neglected whilst I have put myself through this training programme... And in a couple of months time the process of training for a marathon with start all over again as I look forward to Abingdon...

Weekly totals:

Run miles: 45.15

Swim lengths/metres: 167/4175m
Sit-ups: 640
Press-ups: 320

Two Weeks Notice

April Fool? Not according to those I run with...

Two weeks. In just two weeks time it will be April 21st and I will be in London attempting to join the top 2.9% of runners who finish in under three hours... With the exception of the numerous toilet stops, I've hit most of my training targets, put in the long runs, included a few longer distance races, gone way outside my comfort zone by running hard, high-tempo, track sessions, strengthened my cardio-vascular system with numerous swimming sessions,  and, as long as the taper goes well then there is no reason why I shouldn't achieve my sub-three marathon dream.

The week began on Monday the first of April. A Bank Holiday, a day of rest, and also April Fools Day. As the next Bank Holiday is not until May 6th, we had to put this one to good use. No matter as, in the baldy household, however, there is rarely such a thing as a day of rest. This was the day designated to put more of my assorted collection of Bristol Rovers football programmes and memorabilia  into boxes and store them in the attic, complete with notes to my kids saying things such as "sell this on E-Bay". This is being done systematically in order to make the space necessary for our impending arrival - there's only another five months to go...

Tuesday consisted of my usual coached training session in the Keynsham pool. My usual Coach was away so his replacement put us through some very different efforts, which left me quite out of breath. A change is as good as a rest, so they say, and when I finally climbed out of the pool I was glad of the rest as I was quite fatigued by it all. Funny how I have the stamina to run mile upon mile, yet struggle to do an hour in the pool...
The evening Whitehall track session also had a touch of the 'short, sharp, shock' about it. Five 300m efforts, with a walked recovery of 100m, leading straight into twelve 200m efforts..!! Now, as a long distance runner, this hurt me - especially with an icy cold headwind to be found on the top bend... Concentrating more on form (head up, body straight, arms and legs going through full motion range) than on speed, I actually surprised myself with what I did manage, managing the last 200m effort in a, for me stunning, 33 seconds!

Mangotsfield before the arrival of the cycle path

Wednesdays lunchtime run was, once again, a group affair. I met up with MattEll and JaykeeBoy, who also set the route, and thus the three soon to be London Marathon runners trotted out of Keynsham into an all too familiar cold headwind. We headed up the ring road path uphill towards Warmley chatting as we ran at a fairly easy pace. Once we reached the old station platform at Mangotsfield we turned right, heading back towards Bitton and, ultimately, back to Keynsham. A very pleasant 12.2 miles that passed all that much quicker by the incessant banter that flowed throughout the run. As I've said before, get a group of runners together and they'll chat all the way throughout the run...

Strangely, on Thursday lunchtime, when I went for a rather pleasant, short, and, as always, freezing cold, five mile jog with MattEll, my legs made a complaint. There was evident discomfort in my calves and my hamstrings. It was as if the muscles had tightened overnight, causing them to shorten, and therefore not allow me to fully extend my lower limbs. Why? I have no idea. All I know is that they were tight and painful. It was only a short run but I was glad when it was over. So were my limbs. Thankfully I already had an appointment for a sports massage, later that very afternoon, so I was able to ask for extra attention to be paid to specific places.
In order to give my legs as much rest as I possibly could, and despite it actually being quite nice outside due to a drop in wind speed, I elected to miss the 5 mile run scheduled for Friday lunchtime. Instead I put in a swim, with pull-buoys to allow to rest my legs further, and spent a pleasant half an hour giving my upper body a relentless workout instead.

Weather forecasters had predicted a warmer, less windy, Saturday; and they were right. Unfortunately, at 7:30am, when I went out for an 11 & a bit mile run, it was still bloody freezing. I really cursed the schedule, the earliness of the day, the loss of yet another Saturday morning lie-in, the temperature and, the tiredness of my body, as I left the house and made my way towards Hanham. I also had cause to demonstrate my extensive non-politically correct grasp of verbal utterances whilst out for my run. There was the driver in Keynsham High street who pulled up onto the footpath in front of me in order to get to the cash point, then opened his car door just as I was going past... There was the cyclist who nearly mowed me down at Bitton Station... There was the anus of a dog walker who tried to admonish me for calling him rude names when I became entangled in his stupid effing extendable dog lead... Then, best of all, was the taxi driver, in Kingswood High Street, who pulled out of a side junction in front of me, then stopped and tried to execute a three-point turn, whilst completely blocking the road, and only stopped reversing at me when I hit the boot of his car & question both his eyesight and his parentage... Apart from that, I was quite happy with the run, especially the seven-minute average mile pace. (I wonder if I can get a part in the next series of Grumpy Old Men..?)
Talking of being old, here's a tip for you - never go looking at prams & pushchairs with both your partner and one of your teenage kids, as I did on Saturday afternoon. It confuses the crap out of shop assistants who don't know who's buying a pram. "Is it for yourself?" they ask, whilst looking from wife to daughter and back again. Then they turn to me and ask, "or are you shopping for your grandchild..?"

Because lie-ins are for 'normal people'

Sunday equals run day, and the taper was in full view this week as the mileage took another drop. Just 17 easy miles were on the cards and I was to meet up in Brislington, once again, with JakeeBoy, who had put the route together. It was freezing cold when we started out, as it always seems to be of late - I can only hope that the mornings will become a bit warmer over the next 14 days. From Brislington it was a short 2 mile run to Keynsham, where we met up with MattEll. Strange to think that in just two weeks from this run the three of us would be lining up on the London Marathon start line on Blackheath Common. We jogged through Keynsham, through Willsbridge, and, after getting onto the Bristol-Bath Railway Path at Bitton, we headed towards Bristol. What I love about running with others is the wide range of conversations that are to be had. During this particular run we covered subjects such as 'nimbys' not wanting a pub to be built, the weather, marathon start lines and pacing groups, types of prams & car-seat, extendable dog leads, osymetric/elliptical chainsets, Lance Armstrong & Marco Pantani, rave parties, and the narrowness of Adidas running shoes... Once we reached the end of the Railway Path we looped around Temple Quay, Castle Green, Welsh Back, & St Mary Redcliffe Church, before heading along the Greenway Path alongside the river back to our starting point, whereby both Jaykee and myself curtailed our 17.25 mile run in a time of 2:05:57, whilst MattEll carried on back to Keynsham from whence he had come.

So, that's it; another week over, another training week complete, and every step taken is another step closer to London. Bring it on.

Weekly totals:

Run miles: 54.13

Swim lengths/metres: 82/2050m
Sit-ups: 640
Press-ups: 320
Gorgeous Gravida: 1

One Last Peak & a Torq Wrench...

As far as weeks go, this was an emotional one running wise. It saw the last of the long training runs, it saw kit malfunctions, stomach malfunctions, lots of the Compton hills, lots of quad pain, and lots of the emotional roller coaster that comes from prospective parenthood... All of this had to be fitted around my full time job, looking after a constantly sleepy/feeling sick missus, the return of Doctor Who to BBC1, and other social events... I'll be glad when this marathon lark is over so that I can have a proper rest... Oh, hang on, I can't... I almost forgot that I have two 10K races, a half marathon, & a sprint triathlon booked in for May... Sometimes I just don't help myself.

As usual, Monday was a rest day. Not as usual, I did just that. I rested. Completely. No running and no swimming. Not even a quick paddle with floats. Niente. And I was still knackered. So knackered in fact that in the evening, when I put my headphones on to listen to a Doctor Who audio adventure, I didn't make it to the end and fell asleep...

Shame on me for thinking of saying yes to Chamonix. 

Also on the Monday, I received an e-mail from energy gel manufacturer Torq Fitness who said "Thank you for applying to be part of the TORQ Trail Team 2013. Trying to pick from hundreds of talented runners wasn't an easy job - so our sincere congratulations to you for making the selection! We are delighted to confirm that you have been selected to attend the London assessment day this coming Saturday 30 March." WOW! How good is that? The chance to join a professional racing team for a year, to train with them, have access to their professional set-up, free kit and race entries - who would be fool enough to say "no" to the chance of winning that??? Well, me... Since applying to become part of their team, my circumstances have changed somewhat, so, if I was successful in getting through the assessment day, I wouldn't really have been too happy to leave my pregnant wife behind whilst I was running around Chamonix etc. and, therefore, I am going to had to decline their invitation. Bugger. (Don't worry, I'll ensure that she never forgets what I sacrificed for the sake of her & our unborn child. I'll remind her constantly...)

At my weekly Tuesday lunchtime coached swim session I told myself that I wasn't going to work too hard and tire myself out. Whilst I want to work as hard as I can to make myself as fit as possible, I don't want to have no energy left when it comes to running, which is, after all, my main pre-occupation. At the end of the day, I started swimming to make me a better runner, not the other way around... I know that I've been struggling with my training of late, but, to tell the truth, I am the wrong side of forty, and I'm now on week 15 of an 18 week training schedule. If the training schedule hadn't made a mess of me then I'd have thought that I'd not been trying hard enough. I always knew that training harder, putting in the speed work, and getting out of my comfort zone, wasn't going to be easy. But, thankfully, after this week, the mileage and levels of intensity start to drop and the taper down towards London begins...
The Whitehall Athletics Track was cold in the evening. Perishing cold. With a freezing headwind blowing across the top bend. Lovely. After a few 'warm up' laps of the track, we moved in to the core of the nights schedule - 6x1200m at 10K pace with 400m jogged recovery. Ooh, don't I just love the lactic burn in my legs..? Err, no. I held it together quite well, logging reps of 4:13/4:18/4:20/4:21/4:20/4:17 along the way which surprised me a. because of the consistency, and b. because I managed, after starting out too fast and tiring in the middle, to bring things back up to speed at the end.

The following day I took full advantage of my employers flexi-time system by starting work early, taking a long lunch break in order to fit in a long run, then working later than usual in order to make up the missing time. This would then allow me to take off-spring number three out for a meal in the evening to celebrate her impending 19th birthday.

Compton Dando by WJ Muller (c)Tate Gallery

The previous evening JaykeeBoy had told me that he was working in Keynsham for the day, so we arranged to meet up and run together. A late inclusion was fellow club runner/speed merchant, MattyEll who joined us as a chance to squeeze in another run. And so it was that three lycra clad runners ran a somewhat hilly 11 miles around the hills of Compton Dando and special-guest venue Hunstrete, in very cold conditions. We only really noticed the bitingly cold wind as we crested the numerous hills, or choked on the odd snow flurry, but when we had finished all exposed areas of flesh were on the rather wind-burnt side of red raw.

Thursday came and, like the proverbial Weeble, I had a little bit of a wobble... I got into work early as I intended to run for 14 miles in my lunchbreak. Unfortunately, circumstances caused me to get stuck in the office longer than I intended and, consequently, I didn't get out for a run as early as I had wished. "Never mind", I thought, "I'll just do as much as I can..." I headed out on the same route as the previous day, with the intention of adding in another 3 mile loop of Compton Dando & Hunstrete. However, after roughly 5 miles I looked at my Garmin 205 GPS which said that I had only run 1 mile - in 25 minutes... Then it went blank. I managed to get it working again (press all the buttons at the same time to reset the system) but I could no longer trust it. Something will have to be done to address this situation before I head to London...To ensure that I was assured of the distance run, I cut out the extra 3 mile loop and stuck doggedly to the previous days route. With roughly 3 miles of the run left to go, another problem came to the fore - the pain in my right quadriceps flared up. By the time I got to Keynsham Leisure Centre at the end of the run it had tightened up significantly. So much so that tackling the stairs to and from the changing rooms was quite a painful experience. The answer? Swallow some Ibuprofen with coffee and rest. I also took the decision not to run on Friday...

I did some exercise on Good Friday though. I swam in the morning and traipsed around shops in the afternoon, test driving prams... Luckily I don't think I'll be needing the 'L plates' this time around...

Hicks Gate: a non-magical roundabout

As there was Hanham Horror type things for me and MrsC to do on Saturday afternoon, and most of Sunday, it was decided upon that my final pre-London long run should be done on the Saturday morning. A warm looking sun type thing shone in the sky when I drew back my curtains in order to help wake up the slumbering MrsC the next morning. Unfortunately it was only warm looking inside the house. It was perishing freezing outside. Minus two apparently...  As the rapidly expanding MrsC is no longer up to cycling along with me during my long runs, I gave her a set of directions, along with a list of stopping places, and she drove around the route to provide water stops and moral support. I ran from our house in Kingswood, through Hanham, and down to  Hicks Gate. From there I climbed all the way up through Keynsham, before meeting MrsC at the 7 mile mark, before I dropped down to Publow. From there I passed through Woollard, where I once again met MrsC, and took a circuitous route to Compton Dando, where Mrs C was once again waiting with refreshment. From there it was a steep climb up Fairy Hill followed by an undulating road through Chewton Keynsham, to Keynsham itself. Once back in Keynsham I followed the back road to Saltford, then dropped down onto the Bristol-Bath Railway Path, ran through Bitton, and finished, finally, 19.5 miles after I had left home, at Warmley Station, where MrsC was waiting to take me home...
After some much needed rest, recuperation, coffee, and incinerated hot cross buns, the afternoon was spent, in my role as a Lead Marshall, walking around a third of the Conham Valley, marking out the course for the following days Hanham Horror race. (Fact of the week: The lock at Hanham was the first to open when the Avon was made navigable in 1727. It is also the first lock of over 100 on the Kennet & Avon Canal that connected the region with London and beyond in the early 1800s.)



Drawing a Vale over Conham...

Lionel Ritchie sang about being 'easy like Sunday morning...' It's alright for some... I seriously cannot remember the last time that I had an easy Sunday morning. For me, this Sunday was no different from any other. MrsC and I was up early, in the car, and heading back out to the Conham Valley whilst the early morning sun was struggling to find any semblance of warmth. The temperature was minus four degrees as I began to around run my section of the course, putting out directional arrows and 'caution runners' signs. When we were done we headed to the Race HQ for a quick cup of coffee and for me to gather the troops before they went out to their marshalling points. I followed them out to the course, ran another loop to ensure everyone was okay and in the right place etc. then headed back around again in order to watch/support the runners coming through. A friend of mine, Dan, staggered past, aiming expletives at me because I'd talked him into running, complaining about blistered feet, so I jogged 1/4 of a mile with him, before stopping to chat to other Marshalls. I saw him after the race and, although he had butchered/blistered feet, he promised that one day soon he would join BRR. After I'd finished my third loop I was now behind the last runner. The Marshalls cleared their position as soon as the last runner passed them, leaving me to 'sweep up' behind them collecting in marker tape, missed signs, stray rubbish etc. By the time I was finished and ready to return to the Race HQ, my Garmin was telling me that I'd managed, over the course of the morning, managed to run over 13 miles!
After cake and beer at Race HQ the rest of the day truly was a rest. And, with a taper in training, as mileage and intensity of runs begin to recede in the run up to London, rest and recovery is something that I fully intend to make the most of.

Weekly totals:

Run miles: 63.7

Swim lengths/metres: 86/2150m
Sit-ups: 640
Press-ups: 320
Sleeping Beauties: 1

A Grim Fairy Tale...

Are you sitting comfortably? Good, then we shall begin...

Once upon a time there was a skinny bald Prince who liked to run. He liked to run a lot. Just like Dick Whittington, he hoped to go to London where he'd heard that the streets were paved with gold...  But when he got injured or his muscles ached he got very upset and started to abuse a substance called Ibuprofen. He would swallow tablets and rub gel into his muscles in the hope that the pain would go away...
On the previous Sunday, the baldy Prince had gone for an 18 mile run with a friend. At the end of the run, the baldy Prince had very stiff and sore legs, but as he was used to pushing his body to its limits he paid no heed to the pain and, in the evening, he played badminton with some other friends. The following day, Monday, his legs had felt fine so he went swimming but, so that he could give his legs a rest, he used a pull-buoy to give them a bit of a rest. In the evening he took his beloved Princess, she of rapidly expanding waistline & wild mood swings, to the Theatre Royal, in Bath, to see The 39 Steps. This greatly improved her mood and that made the Prince very happy.

On the Tuesday morning the bald Prince woke up late so, in order to get to work on time, he didn't go for an early morning jog. Instead, at lunchtime, he worked extra hard in the swimming pool. That evening he went to the athletics track to do a 2 mile warm up followed by 10x800m, with 2:30 recoveries. After a few reps the Prince was starting to feel a horrid pain in his right quad, but tried to carry on regardless. In the end, despite the pain, and after being told off by another runner for risking injury, the baldy Prince called it quits after only 7 reps and limped off the track and sat in his car sulking about his rotten luck.

When he eventually got home, he moaned to the pregnant Princess about his sore leg muscle. His hairy Codfather, Captain Birdseye, a distant relative of the Fairy Godmother, heard his moaning and felt sorry for the skinny bald Prince and, to help make the pain go away, he gave him a bag of magical frozen peas. Now, the skinny bald Prince was sceptical about the magical properties of this frozen garden produce, but, after swilling down some Ibuprofen tablets with coffee from his 'lucky' Avebury 8 mug, he sat in front of an episode of University Challenge, munching on a kipper sandwich, with the bag of magical peas applied to his right quadriceps.

After a magical nights sleep, partially fuelled by Horlicks, the Baldy Prince awoke feeling much refreshed and, whilst the pain in his thigh was still there, he felt ready to resume his marathon training schedule, although, as a precaution he intended to greatly reduce both the distance and the intensity of the run. So, instead of a 14 mile run, a distance of 8 miles around Compton Dando was settled upon with the added bonus of a post-work run. The pace was, by necessity, 'easy' with lashings of extra grit and determination reserved for the hills. Amazingly the longer the Prince ran, the easier he found the very action of running become and he was able to get round in an average of 7:12/mi. This pleased the Prince greatly and, although he was still experiencing a degree of discomfort in his thigh, after work he was able to enjoy a slow 16 lengths of the moat swimming pool... To celebrate the success of his days exercise he treated the pregnant Princess to one of his favourite high-carbohydrate home-baked meals - tomato gnocchi bake...

Over night, the White Witch sowed doubts and injury fears into the dreams of the Prince, and when he awoke in the morning he was worried about his thigh. She had also cast a gloomy weather spell which slowly engulfed the land. High winds, driving rain, and low temperatures crept in during the day and amplified the fears of the Prince. He elected not to run at lunchtime and to wait until he had visited the court physician who had elbows and thumbs of steel. After a massage, that felt like a visitation from the Spanish Inquisition, he put in a very cold and wet 5K jog around the block. His leg felt better than it had done the previous day, and this greatly pleased the Prince.

Damp underfoot...

On the final day of the working week, the White Witches gloomy weather spell still hung over the Kingdom of Compton Dando, but the Baldy Prince, accompanied by a brave Knight from his office, braced himself against the driving rain and took to the wet roads for an 'easy' 7.45 mile 'jog'. The reason for the longer than scheduled run was a quest for knowledge. The Prince wanted to ascertain if his legs were suitably recovered to cope with a double figure run the next day. The Prince and the Knight battled valiantly against the very worst of the White Witches weather. Although they were soaked to the skin, and exhausted greatly by their efforts, both were pleased when the run was completed and they were able to retreat out of the elements and grab a warm shower in Keynsham Leisure Centre.

The weekend usually brought the Prince a chance to spend some more time with the Princess, but this weekend the Princes training schedule ensured that the much needed weekend lie-in was not going to happen... The schedule proclaimed that eleven miles should be completed and verily the Prince did arise from his bedchamber in order to face the world. In anything other than Disney stylee The Prince was attacked by the Gingerbread Man after only one imperial mile. After taking evasive action in the first public convenience on the route, the Prince was able to put in what turned out to be a very, very, cold run. It was so cold that the Narnian White Witch, Jadis, might pull up in her sleigh, pulled by two polar bears, and start to tempt him with Turkish Delight and a cup of hot chocolate. He did, however, manage to complete his run in 1:18:18 and was pleased that his quads had held up so well. Although the Prince would have been grateful of a warm post-race shower, he instead got changed and, as preparation for next weeks Hanham Horror race, of which he was a Section Marshall, he walked around the second half of the course to check the route.

Responsible for the recent crappy weather?

The following morning the Prince did once again arise bleary-eyed from his slumbers to embrace the coldness of the day and embark upon his longest run of the week - all seventeen miles of it. On a day that would have hosted the Forest of Dean Trails Half Marathon and the San Domenico Twenty, both cancelled due to the White Witches bad weather which left many facing another Arctic day, the coldness of the day was not lost upon him. It was colder than the previous day, especially along the exposed, unsheltered, sections of the railway path between Bitton and Saltford, the A4 Bath Road to Keynsham, and the Avon Ring Road. With hat, gloves, and headphones on, and the latest Marathon Talk podcast on his MP3 player, the run itself was taken at a very easy, steady pace, with the slowest stages of the runs, obviously, being on the inclines which were, thankfully, sharp rather than long. The Prince only allowed one pre-scheduled pit-stop this time out and, that was taken at the 11 mile mark, at Keynsham Leisure Centre. As with the previous day, the Prince was glad to finish his run, this time in 2:07:17. Despite wearing hat, gloves, Skins tights, and a windproof Nike Storm Fit jacket, the Baldy Princes flesh was still red and raw from the cold winds that he had experienced and his quads ached greatly. Thankfully, the pain subsided after a while, and the Baldy Prince was able to spend some quality time that afternoon with both his daughter and the Pregnant Princess as they baked chocolate cakes together.

Thankfully, after such a poor start to the week, the Prince ended his week on a more positive note. But this wasn't the end of the Princes story. No, that would come in front of a big palace in just four weeks time. As Peter S. Beagle wrote in The Last Unicorn,  "Heroes know that things must happen when it is time for them to happen. A quest may not simply be abandoned; unicorns may go unrescued for a long time, but not forever; a happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story..."

 Weekly totals:

Run miles: 54.66

Swim lengths/metres: 108/2700m
Sit-ups: 640
Press-ups: 320
Pregnant Princesses: 1

It's all uphill to a meltdown...

A sign of things to come...

Three things that I wasn't expecting to have to deal with this week - sub-zero temperatures, freezing cold arctic winds, and MrsC's pregnancy hormone-imbalance compounded mood swings... For reasons that I can't go into (apart from the fact that she does read this blog and I'd like to keep my teeth & testicles in their present location) I won't divulge the details of the mood swings. Let's just say that I've recently discovered that going for long runs does have another plus side... Which is just as well because this was my longest/hardest training week for a while, and after this, things should start to ease off as I taper down towards next months London Marathon. Just five weeks to go!!!

Monday equals 'rest'. Well, my rest may not be everybodys idea of rest, but swimming a good number of lengths with a pull-buoy between my legs (Honestly, is sounds like the start of a Jimmy Saville joke...) in order to give them a rest seemed like a rest to me...

The base for a lot of my training.

As usual, Triple Tuesday crept upon me to signal the beginning of the training week.
Part one was probably the most psychologically difficult part of the day. Dragging myself out of bed, put on some warm running clothes, then going out for a very, very, cold 5k jog at 6am is never a nice way to start the day. In fact, cold is an understatement. My buff was pulled up over my face and the condensation from my breath actually froze solid! Part two was my weekly coached swim session. I found it very tiring and, after 50 lengths of varying intensity, I was grateful to haul myself out of the pool.
Part three was a very cold track session. After a 4 lap (1 mile) informal warm-up we did an 800m (0.5mile) group warm-up moved into the core of session - 6x1k efforts with 200m recovery. (Just to be anal my effort times were 3:35/3:33/3:30/3:28/3:28/3:25). I will hold my hand up and freely admit that I detest running on the track. It hurts and I find it an uncomfortable experience. However, I also regard it as a necessary evil as it makes me focus on form and speed. As with the lunchtime swim, I was glad when I finished... I jogged another 5 laps (1.25 miles) to cool-down before I was able to stop and step off of the track.

A pre-planned busy workload, sustained only by a flask of coffee and a container full of cold pasta, prevented me from training in the daytime. Just as well as I had arranged to meet MrsC from work mid long run... I cracked out 10 miles in a comfortable 1:11 before meeting her outside her office in central Bristol. We then made our way slowly home; MrsC cycling whilst I jogged along in front. Pregnancy is getting the better of MrsC's energy levels of late though and at times I had to stop and wait for her to catch up with me. At the end of the 15.6 mile journey I was spent. I had nothing left in the tank; but, luckily, recovery was provided by a most welcome honey & golden syrup sandwich... (Sugar rush!!)

Petrol not required...

Determined that the arrival of a baby is not going to slow me down in any shape, way, or form, I had decided that, come what may, I was going to get a jogging buggy so that when I do my long runs in the evenings or at the weekends, then baby can come too... (I told my 19 year old daughter this and her response was "you're kidding, right?" err... no.) Anyway, I'd been looking at a few of these buggies on E-Bay, as these things cost a fortune brand new, and had set my sights on a Jeep Overland Limited Jogging Stroller. After a bit of price haggling with MrsC ("I'm gonna bid x-amount on this", "No you're not", "yes I am, after all, if you want a baby free lie in on weekend mornings then I'm going to need a jogger...") I made a high bid eight seconds before bidding finished, and got it for a steal... My first big baby purchase - and, inevitably, it was running related... I wonder if I can get it up and over Kelston Round Hill...?

I swam at lunchtime on Thursday, just an easy 32 lengths to keep the body moving, then in the evening I ran a looping 10.5 miles into Bristol Temple Meads, back out on A4 to Keynsham, before heading on to the running club. It was good to get some more miles under my belt, but more importantly, it was good to be able catch up with some of our friends and have a good old chat. You can log the miles and fuel the body, but sometimes you have to feed the soul too...

Friday was wet. Very wet. Heavy rain fell on me as I ran from Keynsham to Bath. I was soaked to the skin before I even got onto the cycle track to run back to Keynsham via Bitton. The thing with the rain is that, when running, I don't really notice it unless it's freezing cold and driving into me. I'm happy to keep running through it as that's the only way that I have any hope of staying warm; it's only my face and hands that start to go numb. All was well until I came off the path at Bitton and ran alongside the A41275 Keynsham Road. There was a lot of water on the road and most of it seemed to be sprayed up and over me by the passing vehicles. I swear blind that some of the drivers must have been doing it on purpose. Gits. Like a drowned rat I finally made it to the end of my 12 mile loop and I honestly cannot remember that last time I felt so happy to get out of the rain and into the dry...

Saturday mornings 5.5 mile run in the rain wasn't much fun. After 3 miles I felt my stomach lurch and, reading the danger signals, headed through the doors of Longwell Green Leisure Centre & dived straight into the nearest loo. Bloody typical; after three days of consecutive double figure runs with no pit-stops, I get attacked by the Gingerbread Man on a little 5.5 mile jog... I wasn't amused... The afternoon was spent shopping for maternity clothes and then travelling to Trowbridge in order to pick up the running buggy. Because it's got big wheels, I had to detach them just to fit it into the boot of our Renault Megane - And that's got a rear end bigger than Bella Emberg...!!

Sleet greeted the cold Sunday dawn and, as I started running an 18 mile loop with fellow London Marathonner, JaykeeBoy, I knew that I was i for a bad run. To start with, I was struggling to breathe. The cold air was attacking my lungs with every inhalation, which in turn made me try to breathe a little shallower, which meant that my body wasn't getting all the oxygen it needed. When we hit the first hit I knew that the weeks higher mileage was going to haunt me. My aching quads felt stiff and tight. Because of this, and the cold air breathing, my body wouldn't let me change up a gear to run any faster...
"Okay", I thought "We'll hit the railway path in Saltford at the 6 mile point. I will have warmed up by then & it'll be easier to up the pace..." No. We got on the cycle track, headed for Bitton, then, as soon as I tried to pick up the pace, my stomach lurched and I was in need of the loo. Bugger. I dropped the pace back down, all too aware that I was going to wreck JaykeeBoys training run, and the closer I got to Bitton Station, the more painful my stomach got, the urge to use the loo got worse, and the more scared I was to fart...

Running on empty

The pit-stop brought small relief, but something still wasn't right with my body. Thanks to the sore quads, it hurt my legs to run. But, worse still was the fact that something still wasn't right in the stomach department either. Two miles further down the path, at Warmley Station, I made a second pit-stop. After this visit, my stomach definitely felt better & I was able to take on a carbohydrate gel and some water in order to keep going.
The final 10 miles were a war of attrition. It really was a case of digging deep inside myself and using everything I had left to run on through the pain of a very tired, empty, exhausted, body, with legs that were tight and on the verge of cramping up. JaykeeBoy knew that I was suffering (He'd have to have been blind not to...) and did his level best to keep talking, and keep my mind occupied so that I couldn't dwell too much on the fact that it would simply have been easier for me to stop running and call a taxi home... We came off the track near the Bristol Academy and navigated our way through Barton Hill to bring us finally, and mercifully, to the end of the loop.
After saying our goodbyes, and me apologising for ruining his run, I jogged back to my car. When I got there I looked at the reflection of a shattered old man in the car window and had to ask myself, what the hell was I doing trying to kill myself by running like this, early on a Sunday morning. The answer was the same as ever - despite having to push myself far beyond my comfort zone, despite the pain, the exhaustion, the cold, wind, rain, and occasional sunburn... I love it. That's why I run...

Don't ask me why though. It doesn't make any sense to me either...

Weekly totals:

Run miles: 72.94

Swim lengths/metres: 122/6100m

Sit-ups: 640
Press-ups: 320

Hormonal Houswives: 1

An expectant wobble...

With just six weeks to go until the London Marathon, there's been lots of exciting news in the Baldy household this week - and not all of it revolved around the news of the much-anticipated return of the Ice Warriors to Doctor Who for the first time since 1974... As I've mentioned in previous Blog posts, for more than the past few weeks now my mind has not been 'in the right place'. Aside from the physical 'wobble' that my body has been experiencing, coupled with the three-week training 'blip' (the huge blister, the muscles pulled by over-compensation, the extreme fatigue) I've been more than a little bit pre-occupied and, obviously, that has dragged my concentration away from the goal that is my sub-three hour marathon target. Now, I know that I've still been getting out there, getting the miles in and hitting my training properly, that much is evident with the good solid race times & PBs that I have been setting of late. Now, to 'lose your mojo', to have a mid-schedule 'wobble', to lose focus for a day or two, maybe even a week or two, is nothing new among marathon runners. But my 'wobble' was purely down to something else that I could do nothing about...

Thankfully, this wobble was stabilised a little after Sundays Bath Half and /8 mile warm down when, on Monday, I had a rest from training, took the afternoon off work and met MrsC in the centre of Bristol.
But the reason for this 'wobble'? Well, for weeks I've been telling little white lies to people. A few weeks ago I handed in my notice to the Running Club stating that I intended to step down from my position as one of the Club Captains. Since then I'd been keeping a low profile by not training with the Club on a Thursday evening, and when I turned up at races, or Tuesday track sessions, I'd breeze in, do what was required of me, then quietly disappear afterwards. The low-profile was because that I really didn't want to have to keep lying to people. People would ask me where MrsC was, or how she was, and I would fib and say that she "was fine" or that she "wasn't feeling too well" and I'd left her in front of the telly... At races, instead of being chief-cheerleader, club photographer, and keeper of many coats/car keys, as she usually was, MrsC would take a book & a folding chair, find a coffee shop, stay in the car, or stay in the race HQ.


This was how the news was announced on Facebook...

And the reason for all these fibs, evasiveness, deception, and the low profile? MrsC is pregnant and il bambino is due in September...!! Amazing news or what? I am so very chuffed and not at all worried by the daunting prospect of impending fatherhood again; even though it may well curtail some of my running activities (a bit). And, I know what you're thinking - I'm too old to be a Dad again. Funnily, a couple of my grown-up off-spring made the very same comment to me when I gave them the good news... So, now with the truth in the open there is no further need for secrecy & half-truths etc. I apologise to all I lied to, but you can understand the reason... Sorry!

The following day, with grin fixed firmly upon face, we broke the news to our respective colleagues. I decided not to run in the morning, due to sore quads, and opted for just the lunchtime coached swim session and a track session in the evening.
The swimming pool was very busy. It was hard to build up a rhythm in the swimming lanes as, being too fast for one lane and too slow for another, there, by necessity, was quite a bit of stopping to let others past me. But, by the end of the session I had completed 50 lengths and was thoroughly exhausted.

Smokey, but no Bandit...

The track session in the evening was, for me, tough. Not simply because of the three sets of 600m/400m/300m/200m efforts with 100m walked recovery, but because somebody in the adjoining allotments was having the worlds smokiest bonfire, and, because there was very little breeze, the smoke just kind of hung over the athletics track. Although I felt quite good, I could still feel Sunday in my legs and I wheezed my way through the session before returning home smelling as if I'd been playing with a bonfire all evening...

Wednesdays long run, through the brilliance of flexi-time, saw me put in during an elongated lunch break. After a loop of part of Keynsham, I ran along the side of the Avon Ring Road to Hanham. After a brief stop in the public-loos (again), I headed up through Kingswood and dropped down to Warmley Station. From there I ran along the Bristol-Bath Railway Path to Bitton, and then back to Keynsham, for a grand total of 12.8 miles. By the end of the run my legs felt very tight and very sore.

Voluntary mugging

They still felt the same way the following day when I jogged a 6 mile loop, via Saltford and Bitton, during my lunchbreak. After work I had what can only be described as a painful massage. Seriously, my quads, hamstrings, and calves were as tight as a drum, and to ease them up again a lot of pressure, and elbows, was applied. It's difficult to explain a sports massage, as opposed to a holistic or Swedish massage, but, basically, it's a type of massage that is used to work on athletes of all abilities, not just the elites. People who do sports massage can be professional massage therapists or some athletic trainers may also do it. However, although it isn't a specific technique, it requires extra training in anatomy & physiology, as well as working with injuries, the need to have an understanding of how the body moves and works during the many sporting events.
In the evening I jogged over to the Running Club to catch up with old friends and spread the good news about the pregnancy, and, as I was there anyway, I then jogged a slow 5.4 mile route with a group of runners. By the time I arrived back at the Club, MrsC had arrived in order to give me a lift home.
By the time I got home I was absolutely exhausted. I cannot remember ever being so tired during a training schedule. To tell the truth, I'm starting to get to the point where I am seriously considering my options with regard to training. I just seem to be stuck in a vicious cycle of work, train, eat, work, train, eat, sleep, and repeat. I'm almost losing track of the days...

Just a small cuppa...

After an awful nights sleep (why do they call it a bad nights sleep even though you've hardly had more than a snooze and you basically laid in bed all night watching the minutes tick by on the clock?) I felt more than a little rough in the morning. Coffee helped. To help with my diminishing energy supplies (Just how am I going to cope once we have a shit-covered screaming bundle of joy?) I dropped both the mileage and the pace of my lunchtime run and elected to jog around the country lanes whilst chatting to a colleague from work. It was a wise decision, one of almost restorative powers as, for once I didn't work myself into the ground and actually enjoyed myself. Just two blokes out for a jog and putting the world to rights along the way...

Saturday was taken as another day of rest for two reasons. Firstly I was sharing the driving duties as MrsC and I were, once again, heading for the Cotswolds and the home away from home that is the in-laws abode; and secondly, I had a half marathon race booked for Mothering Sunday that I was hoping I could perform well in...

Sundays race was the Blackminster Half Marathon, also known as 'The Scorpion Run' because it had a 'sting in its tail'. Namely what was marketed as a bloody big hill. In the last mile. Nice...

After yet another awful nights 'sleep', race day arrived and the temperature was firmly set at zero. It was bitter out. Seriously bitter. Their was a cold wind blowing and, unfortunately for the 256 runners, that cold wind whipped across the countryside and blew in a manner which chilled every bone in the body. The race started outside Blackminster Business Park, and for the first mile I was in the lead. Thereafter I slipped back through the lead pack until I was able to settle into a comfortable pace. I had hoped that, building upon last weekends Bath Half, I would have been able to hunt for another PB, but the cold, thin, air and headwind, put paid to that idea, so I stuck steadfastly to a 6:20/mi pace. After initially struggling to get going, after about 6-7 miles it suddenly became easy. It was almost as if my body said, "yeah, okay, you've had to force me to run but I'm okay on my own now..." The 'sting in the tail' wasn't as bad as it could have been. After training on the hills around Compton Dando for so many weeks, the 'sting' wasn't as bad as I was expecting. After reaching the peak then it was downhill all the way to the finish at Blackminster Middle School where I crossed the line in 9th position with a finishing time of 1:23:24, my 4th fastest Half ever!!!
After the race I checked my position with the race organiser to see if I'd won a prize. The reason I asked was that MrsC's family were gathering for a Mothering Sunday lunch and, if I hadn't won anything then I wouldn't wait around for the prize giving. "Yes", he said, "you've won the Vet-40 prize." Brilliant! I got changed into some warm clothes and waited for the prize giving, whereby I watched the Vet-40 prize be presented to a bloke who'd finished a couple of positions in front of me...
It begs the question: How on earth can you not figure out who's won what when you only have 9 peoples results to compare...?

So, a sort of good end to a mediocre week. I've had a blip in my training which hasn't been good for me mentally, but, fingers crossed, all should return to normal now. Yes, I've lost some of my mileage, and one long run was cut a bit short, but there's no long term damage done, although my weight is creeping up. (I must try to remember that it's not me who has to eat for two)
Next week sees a return to high mileage. Should be fun. I think. Six weeks. Complete focus. Hit every training target between now and London. Bring it on...

Weekly totals:

Run miles: 57.03

Swim lengths/metres: 50/1250m

Sit-ups: 640
Press-ups: 320

Buns in oven: 1