Snow, Treadmills, Tunnels & Toenails...

The cold weather front continued to hold the South West in its grasp causing havoc with the transport infrastructure, commuters, and those of us trying to train for a marathon. It is at times like this that one needs to adapt to survive, or in my case move training schedules around in order to try to get the training sessions I need anyway I can... Oh well, needs must as the Devil drives...

My first decision was what to do about 'triple Tuesday'. Tuesdays track session had been called off 48 hours in advance, giving me a chance to make different arrangements.
I decided to fragment the Tuesday sessions. Running the Tuesday morning session on the Monday afternoon, after I'd finished work, seemed like a fairly sensible decision, so, after smiling sweetly and saying "pleeeaaase" whilst batting my eyelashes at the staff in Keynsham Leisure Centre, I dirtied myself and ran 10K on a tread mill. BORING. It was hideous - just going through the motions of running whilst not actually going anywhere, trapped in an air-conditioned room, being force-fed banal repetitious 'music' whilst watching a television showing the BBC News coverage of Barack Obama being sworn in for his term of office, which was being subtitled by somebody who, judging by what I was seeing on-screen, was a blind dyslexic wearing boxing gloves... When I finished I got off the mental torture device and headed for the door of the gym, whereby I promptly walked into the end of a rowing machine and cut open my shin. It was like a scene from Miranda. (The only time when treadmills are cool is when there are 4 blokes, 8 machines, & a backing track.) One thing that I did notice, whilst I was washing the blood from my shin, was that, as a result of Sundays run in the snow & ice one of my toes was swelling up around the nail and it was a deep shade of red...

Tunnel Vision

Tuesdays coached swim session remained the same as in previous weeks, but in place of the evenings session at the Whitehall Track I planned to put in an undercover workout in one of the worst-kept secret training locations in Bristol - The Teewell Hill/Staple Hill Tunnel. Cold, yes, but also dry, lit, and, measuring 482m in length, perfect for an impromptu tempo session. The shared path takes up less than half the width of the tunnel, with the rest of the floor surface being made up of uneven rocks. The tunnel is lit all year-round, and despite the warning signs, it's lit 24 hours a day. The roof leaks in places, giving the appearance of rain, often when outside it is dry.
I had informed fellow runners, via Facebook, exactly what my intentions were for the evening, and what sessions I was planning on doing, in case any other mad fools wished to join me. Unfortunately all my plans quickly fell apart when some emergency overtime was pushed in my direction at work. Knowing that in all probability I would be looking at an 8pm start, with no idea what time I would be finishing, I took the only course of action possible - I drove home, got changed, and went straight out for a quick 5.5 mile run. In the bloody snow again...

Finishing time was 5:30am. Yes, the time of day at which I normally get up for work... I fell into bed and didn't open my eyes for the next four hours. When I did, I put some running kit together, grabbed a coffee and headed back to the office. Once there however I didn't go straight back to work. Oh no, no immediate return to the grindstone for me, no; I knew that I'd be in no fit state to train in the evening, so I did the only thing that I could do under the circumstances - put in a 12 mile run at an average of 7:08/mi THEN went back into work. I was right though, by 9pm I was barely able to remember my own name...

After a good nights coma sleep I was able to face the world refreshed. As they had on Tuesday, the running club had also cancelled the Thursday evening group runs due to the adverse weather conditions. So, yet another change of plan was needed to be incorporated in and around the days work. I decided that, in order to give myself maximum recovery time sat in front of the telly in the evening (One Born Every Minute is addictive viewing & it makes you cry), it would be a good idea to run at lunchtime and then get in a nice easy swim after work. (I'm full of these 'good ideas'. Some are good, some are bad, and some just leave people scratching their heads and asking "what are you on?") The weather forecast said that not only was the temperature due to go above freezing for the first time in a fortnight, but, get this, the sun might also come out!! It was and it did. It was still bloody cold though. For some strange reason, knocking out a 10K at lunchtime, then having a swim 3 hours later, completely wiped me out. For the rest of the evening I was staggering around like a zombie from 'Shaun of the Dead'. I think, maybe, that the past couple of days had finally caught up with. Or I'm just getting too old to train as hard as I do...

Ivor the asthmatic steam engine

Zombieism was still possessing me on Friday morning when I drifted into work and sat through a meeting whilst on a completely different transcendental plain... I was lethargic and unable to warm my body up. All I wanted to do was get warm, curl up, and go to sleep. Alas my schedule told me that 15 miles was to be the order of the day. I got my running gear on, went out into the cold, and started to run. It was then that my body started to rebel. Firstly, my asthma reacted to the thin, cold, air and consequently my breathing became laboured, and started to make a noise like Ivor the Engine climbing a hill... After 5 miles it became pretty clear that the energy levels in my body were at their lowest ebb in many a week. I decided, for once, to listen to my body and to call it quits. Obviously all the running odd distances at odd times, slotting in runs whenever and wherever I could, not to mention working long hours in the freezing cold, had taken its toll and I needed to take a bit of a rest. A total of 8 miles were chalked off, 7 short of the days target, but caution is the better part of valour, and saving my body a bit now will undoubtedly help in the long run. My remedy was, typically, curling up on the sofa, with a mug of coffee, in front of the telly. Bloody luxury.

Saturday mornings early morning 5.5 mile run was pretty mundane, although I did notice that my swollen toe was throbbing. Worried that I may break part of the nail off during the following days race I decided to trim it back with a pair of scissors. As I made the first cut I realised why the toe was swollen - under the toe resided a big blister. And my scissor wielding antics opened the blister up in a spectacular fashion. It wasn't a pretty sight... A good, wash, clean, and a spot of Vaseline ensured that I could continue without any further bother.

Sunday saw a change in weather. No more snow, but a howling gale and the chance of rain. Great. I had to go to Lliswerry, in Newport, South Wales, for a very flat 8 mile race. Race HQ was at the Newport AC Athletics Stadium so, after tweaking a groin muscle simply getting out of the car (yeah, I know) and picking up my race number & timing chip, I was able to get changed and put in 8 laps (two miles) of the track as a pre-race warm-up. My PB for 8 miles stood at 52:14 so I know that in order to get a new PB I would have to run each mile slightly faster than 6:30/mi pace. Stay in front of that time and I would be laughing. So, me being me, I set my sights firmly upon 6:15/mi.

Headwind, here I come

The race started and, as ever, I went off far too fast. Noticing that I had logged the first mile at 5:50/mi pace I consciously backed off a little in order to slow down. The second mile was logged at 5:54/mi. (Dammit) Mile three was recorded in 6:02/mi. (Oh, for F**ks sake). Then something happened that made me slow down - 2.5 miles of head-wind. Now, this was no ordinary head-wind, this was as if a big bloke had put his hand on my forehead and defied me to run forwards... I ran hard into the wind, recording my 4th mile in 6:07, (What the..?) but working that hard into the wind had the effect of just exhausting me as proven when the 5th mile took me 6:27 just to get through it. The other problem that I was having to deal with was the fact that I was running on my own. When you run with one or more other people you are able to work with them, taking turns to block each other from the head or side wind. On your own, as I was, all you are able to do is work hard and try not to burn yourself out... Eventually I caught up with somebody and, although I wasn't able to overtake him, I was able to tuck in behind and use him to try and block out some of the wind. Two more miles passed, 6:19 & 6:14 respectively, until we passed the 7 mile marker. At this point I came up to the other guys shoulder and put in a determined spurt. Figuring that a healthy new PB was on the cards I was determined to try to get it as low as possible. The other runner eventually came back and overtook me again with about 50metres to go but we both made each other work hard for that final mile, one that I completed in 5:46, to cross the line in 48:42 for 41st place, 8th in my age group, and first home for the club. My average pace was 6:05/mi. In comparison, the winner, Philip Matthews of Swansea Harriers, finished in 40:49 - that's an average pace of 5:06 per mile!!!

Whilst putting in a 3 mile 'warm-down', which consisted of a jog back to the race HQ and then 10 laps of the athletics track, I noticed my toe was throbbing again. When I got changed later I discovered that my toe had 'leaked' and I was, in fact, stuck to my sock. Urrgh! I really don't think that I will be keeping that nail much longer...  

With next week looking both chaotic and a logistical nightmare - the weekly mileage rises sharply, the weather is taking a turn for the wet & windy, and I'm back on call all week - the only thing I am looking forward to is to sleep. Thankfully, I have the unwavering support of MrsC to back me up; a favour that I am only too glad to return whenever I get the chance...

Weekly totals:

Run miles: 58.15
Swim lengths/metres: 130/3250m
Sit-ups: 640
Press-ups: 328

Half a nail that's not long for this world.