Two Bridges & Problems with wind...

The marathon provides a good metaphor for life, but a real metaphor that you actually live. You think there are so many other things in life that look like things that are insurmountable and suddenly you realize what you are able to do...

Bleary eyed I crawled out of bed and fell into a wet and windy Monday morning. Lack of sleep has been beleaguering me for so many weeks now that a 5-6 hour sleep is viewed as a good result. There are some that would say "you're tired because you're over training". Well, the simple answer is "no". I'm tired because a) As opposed to my youth when I wouldn't have woken up if World War Three had started on my doorstep, these days I'm a very light sleeper, b) On a weekday my alarm goes off at 5:30am. My body clock has become hard-wired in such a way that I start to wake up at about 4:30-5am, and even on my days off I'm a very early riser, and finally c) There seems to have been hurricane force winds, howling gales, driving rain etc attacking my bedroom window since Christmas... I'm developing bags under my eyes that Barry Norman would be proud of... All of these things combined worried me as, according to my training schedule, I was about to embark on my highest mileage training week yet...

No good at easing the weather...

 But the wind this past week has been terrible!! (And I'm not talking about an all out attack of the Gingerbread Man) I thought Sundays Lliswerry 8 was a windy affair, but the gales that seem to be blowing strongly around the South West at the moment are even worse. I seriously fear for the safety of MrsC when she cycles both to and from work! After having a nice easy swim at lunchtime, I tried to run after work on the Monday evening but gave up after just 5K due to the strong winds both knocking me around, and making it difficult to control my asthma. It was almost as if my breath was being taken away from me before I could even fill my lungs ready for the next one...



Tuesday lunchtime saw my usual good coached swim session, whilst Tuesday evening brought about my monthly torture - the Pomphrey Sports 5K. It used to be called The Bridge Inn 5K but a sports ground was built just up the road, so the race organisers, B&W AC, moved the race HQ there instead... 2.5K along a cycle/pedestrian path, running alongside the Avon Ring road, run around a traffic cone, then back to the beginning. At night, in the dark, with streetlights to guide you, Marshall's with torch lights on the darker corners, with the roar of the passing traffic in your ears... Not the most scenic of scenarios, granted, but the race itself is fast and a good test of metal. As it turned out, there wasn't much of a head-wind for the greater part of the course. There was a bloody big side-wind instead. The head-wind saved itself for the final kilometre, making for a very tough run for the finishing line... The bad weather had obviously given some of the regular runners a reason to stay at home in the warm, and it was a smaller than usual field that took off at the sound of the starters whistle. Due to the fact that the race starts, and finishes, under a bridge, plus the narrowness of the course, the first few hundred metres was, as always, a frantic melee of arms and legs as runners jostled for position, working hard to get past the runners who were a little further forward than  

You can't see the path as it's underneath the bridge (honest)

they should be (race etiquette: the faster the runner then the closer to the start line) whilst a small tail-wind pushed the runners on towards Emersons Green. I know there was a tail-wind as I'm hoping that my 5:38 first mile wasn't purely down to me going off like a complete lunatic. Although I normally do. I kept the race leaders in sight for the first kilometre then, as lactic acid started to build in my legs, they disappeared from view - although I did get to see them again as they came past me in the opposite direction. I tend to blot the vast majority of this race from my memory because, to be truthful, I run 5K races as hard as possible and they hurt... Before I knew it I had less than half a kilometre to go and I was battling the head-wind (oh joy) before crossing the line in 13th place with a time of 18:36, placing me as 3rd MV40. Now, if my maths serve me correctly, and with fellow club runner JaykeeBoy finishing as the 1st MV40, between the two of us we have effectively sown up the 1st & 2nd MV40 series prizes for a second consecutive winter season!! Mind you, we'll probably both still turn up next month and hammer ourselves into the ground just to be 100% certain...



Due to a lunchtime meeting (yes, I know, that sort of thing just shouldn't be allowed) Wednesdays longer distance, 12.7 mile run, was done after work. Anyone who has to put in double figure runs after work would tell you how mind-numbingly boring and lonely they are. Your mind can tend to wander and, after a long day at work, your body is more likely to want to give up, go home, and have a nice cuppa in front of the telly... My solution this day, which was to run into Bristol city centre, meet the wife and then run home again whilst she cycled alongside, seemed to work, and, consequently, it's something that I'd probably like to repeat in future weeks. One thing that did annoy me during the first half of this run though, was the number of cyclists, bereft of lights & bright/reflective clothing, who were cycling on the pavement, forcing me to move out of their way. What made matters even worse was that they were cycling along a pavement located right next to a designated cycle lane! Bar stewards.



Baldy Clark - not Superman

  On Thursday lunchtime I managed the most comfortable, easy, swim I'd ever managed; everything just seemed to click into place, whilst Thursday evenings run, done with fellow club runners, reminded me just how fast I am not. I struggled to stay up with the group for approximately 2.5 miles, but then they suddenly upped the pace and disappeared from sight! Thankfully I still knew the route which meant that I had no problem completing the run. It was a good reminder that I am not Superman, but a middle-aged bloke currently training at the outer limits of his capabilities. I know that to some I seem to be a good runner but, believe me, I'm not even gifted. It's taken years of hard work to get to the standard that I am at now, and I'm nowhere near the top of the pile. It's only three years since I gave up smoking & cut out/back the booze... 



Saga filling the pool with pensioners

 Due to yet another lunchtime site meeting (yes, I know, this sort of thing still shouldn't be allowed, and I did complain bitterly. Well, I asked nicely. In a blunt manner) Friday was a day that had, out of necessity, to start differently. I left home at 6:45am and, instead of heading straight into work, headed for the local swimming pool in order that I wouldn't miss my habitual end of week swim. It was a good session, although there was so many pensioners in the water that it looked like a Saga Ocean Cruise Holiday had capsized... The evenings post-work run was, once again, made more palatable by running into the centre of Bristol at 6:40/mi pace, meeting MrsC and then running home again, at 7:30/mi pace, whilst she cycled alongside. Good company, a good 11 mile run, and home by 5:15pm, equals, in my book, a good training session.

Saturday saw a trip up to the Oxstalls Tennis Centre in Gloucester for the final GAAA Cross Country fixture of the season. It was here that I was also reminded that I am not super-human. It was also here that I voiced the opinion that I should consider retiring from taking part in cross-country races. (Obviously, I didn't really mean it, but at the time I was deadly serious...) A lap of a small field, followed by a run along a river embankment, and back to the starting area (a distance of 1.4miles) whereby you ran the same loop a further three times for a total distance of 5.4 miles. But, I'm sad to say, that I had a bit of a humour by-pass. The ground was, well, very sticky mud to say the least; the cold air made breathing difficult, and I wanted to stop for the loo. I voiced my discontentment to MrsC, who was freezing in support, but plodded on nonetheless. When my race was over, in a time of 37:58, all my concerns and discontent immediately vanished from my mind... Strange that. If I had a pound for every time, during a race, that I have told myself that this is going to be my last race, or that from now on I will only be a fun runner/jogger, then I'd have no need to play the Lottery...

The Bridge over the River Avon...

The next day, Sunday, an early start was on the cards. The alarm roused me at 5:30am, and after a small coffee & a pot of Oat So Simple, I headed out of the door for a quick jog around the block, just to ensure everything was working, before I got back and prepped myself for the weeks long run - 21 miles... MrsC wasn't feeling up to cycling the distance at low speeds, so we agreed that I packed a bag of clean clothes for her to bring to the end of my run, and that we'd meet on Pultney Bridge in Bath. Simple enough. As I was running solo, I packed a drink, waterproof coat, phone, & small first-aid kit into my Inov-8 running bag, strapped it to my back and headed out the door at 7:40am to begin my run. After first looping out through Kingswood, then down towards the centre of Bristol, I picked up the A4 outside Temple Meads Station and headed towards Bath. The weather was perfect for running; not too cold, and just enough moisture in the air to keep my core temperature down, but the running was, strangely, spot on... I was soon out of Bristol, through Keynsham, passing the house where I grew up & spent my childhood, and heading into Saltford, where I encountered MrsC, checking to make sure that I was doing okay as she headed towards our rendezvous in Bath, and a large group of Bitton Runners, heading in the opposite direction, who were also training for their respective Spring marathons. At no point during my run did I feel as if I was having to force myself along, nor did I feel as if I was going to struggle to finish the run; in fact I will go as far as saying that I was completely in control of the pace and that my running 'form' was spot on... I entered Bath at the 18 mile mark and followed the Bath Half Marathon course to my 21 mile finish point where I was greeted by Mrs C. Onlookers looked puzzled/bemused as I 'Mobotted' up to Pultney Bridge in a time of 2:31:31...

The best thing about this long run was that afterwards, I still felt good, not thoroughly exhausted. I still had the energy to wander around the shops in Bath with MrsC, but what impressed me most was that I could do that after I had run 21 miles at an average of 7:12 per mile - that equates to running a marathon in 03:08:46 !!! That sub-3hr marathon must now surely be within my grasp - if I stick to the game plan...

As is the norm I rounded the day off with an easy swim and a few games of badminton. I think I also earned the pint or three of Guinness I consumed afterwards too.

Weekly totals:

Run miles: 68.32

Swim lengths/metres: 142/3550m

Sit-ups: 640
Press-ups: 320