Where was I? Ah yes, there had been hills, chaffing, PBs and a half marathon. What did the second half of 2014 have in store?
July: In 2013 I entered my first race, the Leeds 10k. To say that I let myself down is an understatement. Given the amount of training that I had done I was determined to break the 50 minute mark. I finished the Leeds 10k in a new PB of 49:52, over 17 minutes faster than last year. That is what a year of training can do. Total Distance 70.03km
August: With all but one of 2014s races out of the way I needed something to keep me focused and to keep me running until the Abbey Dash in November. 100 mile August should have been enough to keep me focused, however I only managed 23 miles before I injured my knee. I don't know what I did, but I couldn't even run for a bus let alone another 77 miles. The challenge was over, so was running for the foreseeable future. Total Distance 40.44km
September: I discovered in September just how good for me running had been. I had been focusing on times and distances, the fitness benefits had been secondary, a happy by product of achieving my goals. Due to my injured knee I was losing fitness and putting weight back on, but most significantly I was struggling mentally. I needed to do something to clear my head and that something was walking the Yorkshire 3 Peaks. It was tough with a gammy knee but I made it with a little help from my friends and some walking poles. Total Distance 43.46km
October: After two months off, numerous physio visits and an x-ray, I was finally given the all clear to start running again. I only had 4 weeks before the Abbey Dash but I couldn't risk further injury so I took it steady, starting right back at my first run in 2012, a circuit of Cross Flatts Park. October was also when I found out that I hadn't got a place in the London Marathon. I have never been so happy not to get something that I had wanted. Total Distance 21.31km
November: The Abbey Dash came around faster than I had anticipated. Before my injury I had wanted to get will under 50 minutes but after a couple of months off my feet I just wanted to get around the course. The week of the race a good friend had an awful accident. I raced to raise money for those who helped him and finished in 50:03, 7 minutes faster than last year and only just off my Leeds 10k time. The month ended with the Leeds Christmas 10k Challenge, a multi terrain race around Middleton woods and a smile on my face, I was running again. Total Distance 84.94km
December: With no races and nothing immediate to train for, December has been about enjoying running. I went on an organised group run and I had a few runs with some running buddies. This is significant for me as, apart from races, I have always run alone. I could get used to the communal side of group running. Total Distance 108.59
I'll be honest, 2014 has been a mixed bag, but over all it has been a good year. The only negatives have been the hugely disappointing Pudesy 10k and injuring my knee. The highlight was crossing the finish line for the Leeds Half Marathon, but the race of the year was the Harewood 10k. I will race Pudsey again and lay that demon to rest, but not in 2015, I have plans for 2015.
As for the injury, I'm still unsure what happened to my knee, or what caused it. The knee is still not 100% yet but the forced time off gave me an opportunity to reassess why I run. I know now that running is part of me no matter what the distance or the speed. I don't need to run to prove anything, but I do need to run. It gives me time to reflect, time to breath, and it's good for my health, both physical and mental.
This year was all about the half marathon but there is no room in my running schedule for it next year. 2014 was great, but I have big plans 2015. Thank you for all of the support and encouragement this year, and for reading my blog. I hope you'll come along for the ride next year: 2015 is going to be epic!
Wednesday, 31 December 2014
Tuesday, 30 December 2014
2014: Personal Bests and personal worsts - Part 1
It is traditional at this time of year to look back at what has happened over the last twelve months. BBC 6Music have their album of the year chart, there was the Sports Personality of the Year awards, and Charlie Brooker has pre-empted his 2014 Screen Wipe with this look at a cruel 2014. I have also been reminiscing.
January: By the time the new year rolled around I was already a few weeks into training for the Leeds Half Marathon. I had managed to keep running during Christmas and had increased the distance of my weekly runs to 8k. I had also taken the decision to stop running along the canal. People had warned me about the hills of the Leeds Half so long flat runs were not going to do me any favours. Total distance 108.16km
February: February was cold, cold and wet. Leeds had been spared the storms that washed away railway lines in Devon and had flooded Somerset, but we still had our fair share of inclement weather. One particularly cold, wet and windy run, I found out first hand the pain and discomfort that comes from joggers-nipple. In fact, there was quite a bit of chafing in February as I tried out different kit for the Leeds Half, but I won't go into the details hear. Total Distance 141.64km
March: My training continued during March but this was the month that something changed. March was when I started to think of myself as a runner. It happened during one of my Sunday long slow runs. My new hilly route took my up Churwell Hill and back down Gelderd Road. I was on my way back home, with Leeds glinting in the morning light, and a smile crept across my face. I was running, on a Sunday morning, when most of Leeds was still asleep, and it felt good. Total Distance 176.8km
April: It had been five months since I had taken part in the 2013 Abbey Dash and I was still a month away from the Leeds Half but April saw my first race of 2014, the Harewood 10k. Having signed up on a whim I had no idea what to expect however I found out that the race was on and off road and could be very muddy. Muddy is an understatement but the race was fantastic. It was a clear day and Harewood House was a fantastic backdrop as we raced around the grounds. I finished in 54:10 due to a massive hill at the end. I then set my sights on May's Leeds Half Marathon. Total Distance 161.97km
May: After 25 weeks of training it was finally here, the Leeds Half Marathon. Although I had put the miles in I still wasn't sure that I would be able to get around the course in my target of 2 hours. I set off too far too fast and in the end I missed my goal by 8 minutes, finishing in a staggering 1:51:48. Over the moon doesn't do justice to how good I felt crossing the finish line. All of the training had been worth it and I could now relax, but not for long as I had unfinished business with the Leeds 10k to deal with in July. Total Distance 133.26km
June: During June I took a bit of time out from constant running. I still ran two to three times a week but having smashed the Leeds Half I didn't feel like I needed to prove anything or punish myself, how wrong I was. I signed up for the Pudsey 10k and knowing that I could cover the distance in around 50 minutes I set off, too fast again. Only this time I didn't manage to maintain the pace and I finished in a very disappointing 56:20. I have unfinished business with the Pudsey 10k but that can wait until 2016. Total Distance 82.28km
With half of the year gone I had covered 804.11km and, the disappointment of the Pudsey 10k aside, I had done it with my head held high. The Harewood 10k and Leeds Half had both given me new official PB's for their distances and I had a clutch of new training t-shirts to wear, which was a good job as I had lost a load of weight along the way. The rest of the year was stretching out in front of me. Six more months of doing the thing I had come to love the most, running. Or at least, that is what I thought!
January: By the time the new year rolled around I was already a few weeks into training for the Leeds Half Marathon. I had managed to keep running during Christmas and had increased the distance of my weekly runs to 8k. I had also taken the decision to stop running along the canal. People had warned me about the hills of the Leeds Half so long flat runs were not going to do me any favours. Total distance 108.16km
February: February was cold, cold and wet. Leeds had been spared the storms that washed away railway lines in Devon and had flooded Somerset, but we still had our fair share of inclement weather. One particularly cold, wet and windy run, I found out first hand the pain and discomfort that comes from joggers-nipple. In fact, there was quite a bit of chafing in February as I tried out different kit for the Leeds Half, but I won't go into the details hear. Total Distance 141.64km
March: My training continued during March but this was the month that something changed. March was when I started to think of myself as a runner. It happened during one of my Sunday long slow runs. My new hilly route took my up Churwell Hill and back down Gelderd Road. I was on my way back home, with Leeds glinting in the morning light, and a smile crept across my face. I was running, on a Sunday morning, when most of Leeds was still asleep, and it felt good. Total Distance 176.8km
April: It had been five months since I had taken part in the 2013 Abbey Dash and I was still a month away from the Leeds Half but April saw my first race of 2014, the Harewood 10k. Having signed up on a whim I had no idea what to expect however I found out that the race was on and off road and could be very muddy. Muddy is an understatement but the race was fantastic. It was a clear day and Harewood House was a fantastic backdrop as we raced around the grounds. I finished in 54:10 due to a massive hill at the end. I then set my sights on May's Leeds Half Marathon. Total Distance 161.97km
May: After 25 weeks of training it was finally here, the Leeds Half Marathon. Although I had put the miles in I still wasn't sure that I would be able to get around the course in my target of 2 hours. I set off too far too fast and in the end I missed my goal by 8 minutes, finishing in a staggering 1:51:48. Over the moon doesn't do justice to how good I felt crossing the finish line. All of the training had been worth it and I could now relax, but not for long as I had unfinished business with the Leeds 10k to deal with in July. Total Distance 133.26km
June: During June I took a bit of time out from constant running. I still ran two to three times a week but having smashed the Leeds Half I didn't feel like I needed to prove anything or punish myself, how wrong I was. I signed up for the Pudsey 10k and knowing that I could cover the distance in around 50 minutes I set off, too fast again. Only this time I didn't manage to maintain the pace and I finished in a very disappointing 56:20. I have unfinished business with the Pudsey 10k but that can wait until 2016. Total Distance 82.28km
With half of the year gone I had covered 804.11km and, the disappointment of the Pudsey 10k aside, I had done it with my head held high. The Harewood 10k and Leeds Half had both given me new official PB's for their distances and I had a clutch of new training t-shirts to wear, which was a good job as I had lost a load of weight along the way. The rest of the year was stretching out in front of me. Six more months of doing the thing I had come to love the most, running. Or at least, that is what I thought!
Friday, 12 December 2014
The Long and Lonesome Road
Since I took up running back in September 2012 I have done so on my own. It's not that I'm naturally a solitary person, preferring my own company to that of others. For me the beauty of running is being able to pull on my trainers and hit the road whenever I'm ready. The idea of running with others always feels like it is adding an unnecessary level of complexity to what is a very straightforward activity.
When I was stood waiting for my first race* to start I couldn't help but think that I could have completed the distance and been at home by the time we finally got under way. I was reluctant to join the local parkrun for similar reasons. I can see the park from my house, but I convinced myself that if I wanted to run 5k on a Saturday morning I could be drinking my second coffee of the day long before 9am, the allotted parkrun start time. I even had the wonderful "Saturday is a rest day" excuse to avoid running with other people while I was in training for the Leeds 1/2 marathon.
I have recently started getting into parkrun though. At first it felt just like a race day, waiting for the "3, 2, 1, GO!" and wondering if I could have already been eating a bacon buttie instead of still standing about in a park. Eventually, after a few weeks, I started chatting to some of the other runners, things changed and I started to get into the spirit of things. When I couldn't run due to injury I still went to volunteer at parkrun, believing that if I couldn't run myself, then the least I could do would be to help others by cheering them on and timing their efforts.
I've come to recognise the camaraderie that can exist between fellow runners. The community spirit at Cross Flatts parkrun is wonderful, with people of all abilities cheering each other on and, certainly between the other volunteers, comparing injuries like Quint, Hooper, and Chief Brodie did whilst hunting 'Jaws'. But still, whenever I take part at parkrun, the second I hear "GO" I zone out and enter my own insular running world.
The idea of running with somebody, whether as a training partner or just for a social run is still very foreign to me. That said, last week I had company on two of my runs and I really enjoyed it. The concept of running at conversational pace is something that I have struggled to get my head around, but running with Mark and Debs allowed me to do just that. The combination of running while putting the world to right without talking to myself could be an addition to my self-help armoury.
The question is, do I actually want to do more social running? Running clubs feel a bit too formal and regimented. Running groups are few and far between in South Leeds, and those that I could join tend to start while I'm still at work. This gap in running provision has been picked up on by Ben from Run England, who has approached me about ME becoming a run leader. Me, a solo runner.
I'll be honest, I am tempted.
Planning runs and routes is one of the many parts of running that I really enjoy. I certainly like encouraging others to run, although I try not to be too evangelical as I know full well that too much encouragement in any direction can have the opposite effect. That said some company could make even the worst run more enjoyable so why not run in a group?
It's time for me to put my thinking cap on, most probably during my next few runs. I suppose making the effort and going out for some organised runs would help me see what I would be letting myself in for if I signed up for the training. I also need to consider if becoming a run leader would impact on my enjoyment of running and, more importantly, whether it will impact on my training for next years races including my first marathon.
I have a lot of unanswered questions and that is where you come in. Do you run with others or are you a solo runner? If a new evening run group started in South Leeds would you be interested? I would love to hear your thoughts.
*2013 Leeds 10k.
When I was stood waiting for my first race* to start I couldn't help but think that I could have completed the distance and been at home by the time we finally got under way. I was reluctant to join the local parkrun for similar reasons. I can see the park from my house, but I convinced myself that if I wanted to run 5k on a Saturday morning I could be drinking my second coffee of the day long before 9am, the allotted parkrun start time. I even had the wonderful "Saturday is a rest day" excuse to avoid running with other people while I was in training for the Leeds 1/2 marathon.
I have recently started getting into parkrun though. At first it felt just like a race day, waiting for the "3, 2, 1, GO!" and wondering if I could have already been eating a bacon buttie instead of still standing about in a park. Eventually, after a few weeks, I started chatting to some of the other runners, things changed and I started to get into the spirit of things. When I couldn't run due to injury I still went to volunteer at parkrun, believing that if I couldn't run myself, then the least I could do would be to help others by cheering them on and timing their efforts.
I've come to recognise the camaraderie that can exist between fellow runners. The community spirit at Cross Flatts parkrun is wonderful, with people of all abilities cheering each other on and, certainly between the other volunteers, comparing injuries like Quint, Hooper, and Chief Brodie did whilst hunting 'Jaws'. But still, whenever I take part at parkrun, the second I hear "GO" I zone out and enter my own insular running world.
The idea of running with somebody, whether as a training partner or just for a social run is still very foreign to me. That said, last week I had company on two of my runs and I really enjoyed it. The concept of running at conversational pace is something that I have struggled to get my head around, but running with Mark and Debs allowed me to do just that. The combination of running while putting the world to right without talking to myself could be an addition to my self-help armoury.
 |
| Cross Flatts parkrun |
The question is, do I actually want to do more social running? Running clubs feel a bit too formal and regimented. Running groups are few and far between in South Leeds, and those that I could join tend to start while I'm still at work. This gap in running provision has been picked up on by Ben from Run England, who has approached me about ME becoming a run leader. Me, a solo runner.
I'll be honest, I am tempted.
Planning runs and routes is one of the many parts of running that I really enjoy. I certainly like encouraging others to run, although I try not to be too evangelical as I know full well that too much encouragement in any direction can have the opposite effect. That said some company could make even the worst run more enjoyable so why not run in a group?
It's time for me to put my thinking cap on, most probably during my next few runs. I suppose making the effort and going out for some organised runs would help me see what I would be letting myself in for if I signed up for the training. I also need to consider if becoming a run leader would impact on my enjoyment of running and, more importantly, whether it will impact on my training for next years races including my first marathon.
I have a lot of unanswered questions and that is where you come in. Do you run with others or are you a solo runner? If a new evening run group started in South Leeds would you be interested? I would love to hear your thoughts.
*2013 Leeds 10k.
Tuesday, 2 December 2014
Leeds Christmas 10k Challenge
A couple of days ago I read a very interesting blog post by a complete stranger about what it is to consider yourself a runner. It all came about for her after somebody had questioned her runner's status because they were faster than she was. Due to the fact that she was aiming for a sub30 5k at parkrun she was not a 'proper runner'. This was despite the fact that she has completed a marathon and triathlons.
Her exchange* with this running Nazi has been going around my head ever since. I've always shied away from labels, but I do consider myself to be a runner, albeit not a great one. I've even had a running related injury, so I must be one. It seems to me that the only difference between me and somebody like Jo Pavey, other than age, gender, overall ability, and a nomination for Sports Personality of the Year, is that she is a professional athlete and I'm not. But mentally, for me at least, it boils down to the fact that professional athletes think in seasons and I think in years.
The Abbey Dash was meant to be my end of year run, the culmination of a year pounding the pavements of Leeds. However, having only just got back on my feet I fancied a little more race action before setting my sights on 2015. Handily, I was given a flyer for the Leeds Christmas 10k Challenge at parkrun. At the time I wasn't sure if I fancied it but having survived the Dash I signed up.
So on Sunday morning I took up my place at the start line inside John Charles Stadium. It was possibly the most perfect Winter's morning, clear blue skies and a chill in the air that was negated by the sun on our backs as we waited for the starter to get us under way. I shared the 'proper runner' story with a couple of my parkrun friends and we all decided that we would happily give Mr sub17 a reason to run if we ever met him.
The race itself was a multi-terrain affair. Starting on a running track then heading off-road for three laps through Middleton Woods on bridleways and roads. Given the recent weather I decided on trail shoes and I'm glad I did. The initial ascent up Scrooge Hill (their name not mine) was more or less a scramble up a 45˚ muddy slope, if you didn't take the stairs that is. The next section was the uphill bridleway. This was littered with wet leaves covering muddy puddles through which road shoes would have provided no grip.
A steep left hand turn lead to a final steep climb before a gentle tarmacked decent back though the woods, to start the whole thing again. Only without Scrooge Hill. By the time I was going up the bridleway for the third and final time I was more or less spent. I walked past the drinks station and enjoyed a leisurely cup of water without spilling a drop, a first for me in race conditions. I finished the race with running buddy Debs by my side. She encouraged me and kept me company over the final 3k and I enjoyed a running revelation.
I may not be a professional athlete, I may not pass as a 'proper runner' in some people's eyes, but that doesn't matter. Although I struggled at times over the course (I'm still not as fit as I was before my injury), I really enjoyed myself. Over the last couple of years I have pushed to always beat my last time, to go further, to chase records, but not any more. Injury has showed me that no matter how much I protest I enjoy running. If I need to take my foot off the gas to make sure I can enjoy the next run too, then so be it.
I know that I have entered the York Marathon next year so I will be pushing myself to new running territories, but I will be doing so in a way that hopefully will keep me running in the years after I have finished.
For the record, Debs and I both completed the Leeds 10k Christmas Challenge in 54:01, 3 minutes faster than I thought I would finish after 7k. It was a long way from a PB but I finished with a smile on my face and that makes me a proper runner. I also have the t-shirts to prove it.
*You can read the whole thing here
Her exchange* with this running Nazi has been going around my head ever since. I've always shied away from labels, but I do consider myself to be a runner, albeit not a great one. I've even had a running related injury, so I must be one. It seems to me that the only difference between me and somebody like Jo Pavey, other than age, gender, overall ability, and a nomination for Sports Personality of the Year, is that she is a professional athlete and I'm not. But mentally, for me at least, it boils down to the fact that professional athletes think in seasons and I think in years.
The Abbey Dash was meant to be my end of year run, the culmination of a year pounding the pavements of Leeds. However, having only just got back on my feet I fancied a little more race action before setting my sights on 2015. Handily, I was given a flyer for the Leeds Christmas 10k Challenge at parkrun. At the time I wasn't sure if I fancied it but having survived the Dash I signed up.
So on Sunday morning I took up my place at the start line inside John Charles Stadium. It was possibly the most perfect Winter's morning, clear blue skies and a chill in the air that was negated by the sun on our backs as we waited for the starter to get us under way. I shared the 'proper runner' story with a couple of my parkrun friends and we all decided that we would happily give Mr sub17 a reason to run if we ever met him.
The race itself was a multi-terrain affair. Starting on a running track then heading off-road for three laps through Middleton Woods on bridleways and roads. Given the recent weather I decided on trail shoes and I'm glad I did. The initial ascent up Scrooge Hill (their name not mine) was more or less a scramble up a 45˚ muddy slope, if you didn't take the stairs that is. The next section was the uphill bridleway. This was littered with wet leaves covering muddy puddles through which road shoes would have provided no grip.
A steep left hand turn lead to a final steep climb before a gentle tarmacked decent back though the woods, to start the whole thing again. Only without Scrooge Hill. By the time I was going up the bridleway for the third and final time I was more or less spent. I walked past the drinks station and enjoyed a leisurely cup of water without spilling a drop, a first for me in race conditions. I finished the race with running buddy Debs by my side. She encouraged me and kept me company over the final 3k and I enjoyed a running revelation.
I may not be a professional athlete, I may not pass as a 'proper runner' in some people's eyes, but that doesn't matter. Although I struggled at times over the course (I'm still not as fit as I was before my injury), I really enjoyed myself. Over the last couple of years I have pushed to always beat my last time, to go further, to chase records, but not any more. Injury has showed me that no matter how much I protest I enjoy running. If I need to take my foot off the gas to make sure I can enjoy the next run too, then so be it.
For the record, Debs and I both completed the Leeds 10k Christmas Challenge in 54:01, 3 minutes faster than I thought I would finish after 7k. It was a long way from a PB but I finished with a smile on my face and that makes me a proper runner. I also have the t-shirts to prove it.
*You can read the whole thing here
Monday, 17 November 2014
Abbey Dash 2014
The Abbey Dash has been in my mind since before I ever considered myself a runner. Living in Leeds you cannot help but know about annual road closures. However, back in 2012, a few months after I decided to take up running, I decided to test myself on the same day as the Dash. I set off along the canal from Leeds City Centre to Kirkstall an hour or so before the race started and amazed myself when I got back to town 10k later in 59:46. Under an hour for my first ever 10k, the furthest I had ever run, I was hooked. The canal run was to become a weekly ritual and my times gradually fell.
Fast forward a year to 17th November 2013. I was finally lining up for my first official Abbey Dash. Having had a really poor Leeds 10k earlier in the year I was determined to run sub 60 again. I ended up towards the back of one of the slow runner pens feeling very much like cattle, and a good five minutes after the gun went off, got under way. I achieved my goal and stopped the clock at 57:18.
But the 2013 Abbey Dash wasn't the end, it was the beginning. I pushed on from there and started training for the Leeds Half Marathon. I ran all winter, in all weather to improve my fitness and stamina so that I could take on the 13.1 miles. This years Dash was set to be the culmination of a year of races. But after injuring my knee I had been in two minds about pulling out.
As I mentioned before, I had started running again and my knee was holding up, but my stamina had almost vanished. I'd managed sub 50 for the Leeds 10k and wanted to do the same again. I was close to deferring my place for the Abbey Dash to avoid a bad time, but then I got some shocking news. A good friend, Lyndon, had an accident while mountaineering and ended up having to be airlifted to hospital after a 3 hour search by Mountain Rescue teams.
I felt dreadful, it's very difficult when you know that there is nothing you can do to help somebody when all you want to do is help. The only positive thing I could think of doing was to thank the Keswick Mountain Rescue Team for finding Lyndon. So I set up a Just Giving page to raise money for them, pinned my bib number to my current favourite running shirt, and got as ready for the Dash as I could.
By the time race day came around, Lyndon's family and friends had raised almost £1,000.00 for Kewsick Mountain Rescue. There was no chance that I was pulling out now. With family in tow we made the short journey into Leeds and the site of the old International Pool, where the runners were packed into their stating pens like sardines. I actually like this method of filtering as it greatly reduces the chance of being held up by slow runners in the early stages of the race.
I studiously avoided the group warm-up as I simply can not stand the perma-grinned instructors. Luckily, and not for the first time at the start of a race, I bumped into another good friend Diane. We chewed the fat about our lack of race prep and studied our watches making sure that we were readdy for the off. The gates of the pen eventually opened and we jogged out onto Wellington Street.
I was already running buy the time we crossed the start line. I'm told that I looked really focused at the start of the race. It's not surprising really, there are so many people the chance of tripping up is very high. Against all of the advice I have given and received I set off far too fast. This is not unusual for me but it is very frustrating when you go through the first kilometre marker a minute faster than you have anticipated.
I tried to take stock and steady my pace and I was still a minute up at the 5k marker. I was starting to flag though. I had decided at the start of the race that I would avoid the water station but looking back a sip or two of water may have been a good idea. However, while most of the people around me were kicking through a sea discarded plastic cups in the hope of getting a full one themselves, I stayed on the clear inside of the road and kept going.
I managed to keep going until 7k when my lungs and legs reminded me that I wasn't as fit as I had been back in July. I had a brief walk to catch my breath and gave myself a bit of a pep talk, only 3k to go, you can do it. A kind runner shouted encouragement from the pack. His exact words "Come on, just keep plodding!" were enough to get me back off the pavement and onto Kirkstall Road.
My pace had dropped as had my head. The tarmac wasn't flowing under my feet anywhere near as fast as I wanted. Another brief walk was enough for me to sort myself out. I reminded myself that my target was not to run my best ever race and get another PB for the year. All I wanted was to better last years time and, more importantly, I wanted to finish the race with my head held high to thank everyone who had helped me thank that mountain rescue team.
I made it up and over the dreaded slip road at the end of Kirkstall Road and found one last push, one final scrap of energy to get me across the finish line. I don't know how but I stopped the clock at 50:03, only 11seconds slower than this year's Leeds 10k time, but more importantly, 7:15 faster than last years Abbey Dash. A course PB that will keep me smiling for a long time. I collected my finisher's t-shirt, found my family, and picked up my phone to tell the world what I had achieved. It was then that I noticed that we had gone over £1,000.00 on the Just Giving page.
What really rounded the day off though wasn't my time, it was not the brilliant race organisation by Age UK, it wasn't even the fantastic fund-raising efforts. A little later in the day, while I was toasting my run with a bier and wurst in the German Christmas Market, I saw a tweet from Lyndon. He was hooked up to machines that go ping and had NG tubes in, but it was him, in one piece, communicating with the world.
I doubt I will ever run a more emotional race, but the 2014 Abbey dash is one I will remember for a long time. Next time it will be sub 45 and I hope that I won't be fundraising for any more fallen friends. In the mean time I'm going to take some advice on board and keep plodding, at least until I get my fitness levels back.
Fast forward a year to 17th November 2013. I was finally lining up for my first official Abbey Dash. Having had a really poor Leeds 10k earlier in the year I was determined to run sub 60 again. I ended up towards the back of one of the slow runner pens feeling very much like cattle, and a good five minutes after the gun went off, got under way. I achieved my goal and stopped the clock at 57:18.
But the 2013 Abbey Dash wasn't the end, it was the beginning. I pushed on from there and started training for the Leeds Half Marathon. I ran all winter, in all weather to improve my fitness and stamina so that I could take on the 13.1 miles. This years Dash was set to be the culmination of a year of races. But after injuring my knee I had been in two minds about pulling out.
As I mentioned before, I had started running again and my knee was holding up, but my stamina had almost vanished. I'd managed sub 50 for the Leeds 10k and wanted to do the same again. I was close to deferring my place for the Abbey Dash to avoid a bad time, but then I got some shocking news. A good friend, Lyndon, had an accident while mountaineering and ended up having to be airlifted to hospital after a 3 hour search by Mountain Rescue teams.
I felt dreadful, it's very difficult when you know that there is nothing you can do to help somebody when all you want to do is help. The only positive thing I could think of doing was to thank the Keswick Mountain Rescue Team for finding Lyndon. So I set up a Just Giving page to raise money for them, pinned my bib number to my current favourite running shirt, and got as ready for the Dash as I could.
By the time race day came around, Lyndon's family and friends had raised almost £1,000.00 for Kewsick Mountain Rescue. There was no chance that I was pulling out now. With family in tow we made the short journey into Leeds and the site of the old International Pool, where the runners were packed into their stating pens like sardines. I actually like this method of filtering as it greatly reduces the chance of being held up by slow runners in the early stages of the race.
I studiously avoided the group warm-up as I simply can not stand the perma-grinned instructors. Luckily, and not for the first time at the start of a race, I bumped into another good friend Diane. We chewed the fat about our lack of race prep and studied our watches making sure that we were readdy for the off. The gates of the pen eventually opened and we jogged out onto Wellington Street.
I was already running buy the time we crossed the start line. I'm told that I looked really focused at the start of the race. It's not surprising really, there are so many people the chance of tripping up is very high. Against all of the advice I have given and received I set off far too fast. This is not unusual for me but it is very frustrating when you go through the first kilometre marker a minute faster than you have anticipated.
I tried to take stock and steady my pace and I was still a minute up at the 5k marker. I was starting to flag though. I had decided at the start of the race that I would avoid the water station but looking back a sip or two of water may have been a good idea. However, while most of the people around me were kicking through a sea discarded plastic cups in the hope of getting a full one themselves, I stayed on the clear inside of the road and kept going.
I managed to keep going until 7k when my lungs and legs reminded me that I wasn't as fit as I had been back in July. I had a brief walk to catch my breath and gave myself a bit of a pep talk, only 3k to go, you can do it. A kind runner shouted encouragement from the pack. His exact words "Come on, just keep plodding!" were enough to get me back off the pavement and onto Kirkstall Road.
My pace had dropped as had my head. The tarmac wasn't flowing under my feet anywhere near as fast as I wanted. Another brief walk was enough for me to sort myself out. I reminded myself that my target was not to run my best ever race and get another PB for the year. All I wanted was to better last years time and, more importantly, I wanted to finish the race with my head held high to thank everyone who had helped me thank that mountain rescue team.
 |
| Showboating at the finish. |
I made it up and over the dreaded slip road at the end of Kirkstall Road and found one last push, one final scrap of energy to get me across the finish line. I don't know how but I stopped the clock at 50:03, only 11seconds slower than this year's Leeds 10k time, but more importantly, 7:15 faster than last years Abbey Dash. A course PB that will keep me smiling for a long time. I collected my finisher's t-shirt, found my family, and picked up my phone to tell the world what I had achieved. It was then that I noticed that we had gone over £1,000.00 on the Just Giving page.
What really rounded the day off though wasn't my time, it was not the brilliant race organisation by Age UK, it wasn't even the fantastic fund-raising efforts. A little later in the day, while I was toasting my run with a bier and wurst in the German Christmas Market, I saw a tweet from Lyndon. He was hooked up to machines that go ping and had NG tubes in, but it was him, in one piece, communicating with the world.
I doubt I will ever run a more emotional race, but the 2014 Abbey dash is one I will remember for a long time. Next time it will be sub 45 and I hope that I won't be fundraising for any more fallen friends. In the mean time I'm going to take some advice on board and keep plodding, at least until I get my fitness levels back.
Saturday, 8 November 2014
Bring on the Dash!
I was going to write this update about a week ago, two weeks into my latest training plan and two weeks before the Abbey Dash, but for one reason or another I have managed to put it off. It's not that I've missed any of my scheduled runs. Neither have I been so ridiculously slow and unfit after injury that I didn't want to share my progress. The main reason for putting off this post was that I was waiting to receive my race pack for the Dash.
Normally, in my brief experience, race packs get sent out a month to two weeks before a race. In fact in this instance, the good people at Age UK, who organise the Abbey Dash, told me via twitter that packs were being sent out two weeks before the race. With that information I decided to wait until I had my bib number before writing a progress report.
I waited, followed my self imposed training plan, and waited some more. Finally, today, nine days before thousands take to the streets of Leeds, my number turned up. It is real. Three months after I injured my knee I will be taking part in one of the top ten 10k races in the UK. Honestly, I was beginning to think that something had gone wrong and that I no longer had a place.
You see, even though I entered the race back in April, for me it only starts to feel real when the pack turns up. The instructions for the day: Times, locations of bag drops, where the toilets are, inspirational pep-talks from professional athletes, the route map, and most importantly your number. All of these things heighten the anticipation and give the butterflies in my stomach a bit more vigour in their wings.
I'm relying on these pre race nerves to get me around the course. I have managed to stick to my schedule but that has only got me back to running 6k. In an ideal world I would have managed a couple of 10ks by now, but in that world I wouldn't have injured my knee. My original goal of a sub 45 minute 10k has taken a back seat and I'm now just aiming at beating last years time of 57:18.
After the last few months, a course Personal Best will do me just fine, even if I miss out on a distance PB by some margin. Bring on the Dash!
Since writing this post I ran parkrun in Cross Flatts Park. Throughout my injury time I have been attending parkrun as a volunteer, but now I'm back on my feet I've taken advantage of our hilly 5k course as part of my rehabilitation. Before the clock started at 9am on Saturday morning I decided that I was going to run the course twice, finish the 5k, get my barcode scanned and set off to do it again, just to see if I could complete 10k.
My actual parkrun time was 24:33, the first time sub 25 minutes since doing my knee in, mostly thanks to Debs who I'm sure I wasn't racing against! The second 5k took a much more leisurely 27:09. Combined times of 51:42 for 10k (all be it with a couple of minutes breather in the middle) gives me so much hope for a decent Dash. Even if I run the slow 27:09 pace for the full course on Sunday I will come in 3 minutes under last years time. If I wasn't looking forward to race day before parkrun, I sure am now!
Normally, in my brief experience, race packs get sent out a month to two weeks before a race. In fact in this instance, the good people at Age UK, who organise the Abbey Dash, told me via twitter that packs were being sent out two weeks before the race. With that information I decided to wait until I had my bib number before writing a progress report.
I waited, followed my self imposed training plan, and waited some more. Finally, today, nine days before thousands take to the streets of Leeds, my number turned up. It is real. Three months after I injured my knee I will be taking part in one of the top ten 10k races in the UK. Honestly, I was beginning to think that something had gone wrong and that I no longer had a place.
You see, even though I entered the race back in April, for me it only starts to feel real when the pack turns up. The instructions for the day: Times, locations of bag drops, where the toilets are, inspirational pep-talks from professional athletes, the route map, and most importantly your number. All of these things heighten the anticipation and give the butterflies in my stomach a bit more vigour in their wings.
I'm relying on these pre race nerves to get me around the course. I have managed to stick to my schedule but that has only got me back to running 6k. In an ideal world I would have managed a couple of 10ks by now, but in that world I wouldn't have injured my knee. My original goal of a sub 45 minute 10k has taken a back seat and I'm now just aiming at beating last years time of 57:18.
After the last few months, a course Personal Best will do me just fine, even if I miss out on a distance PB by some margin. Bring on the Dash!
*** UPDATE ***
Since writing this post I ran parkrun in Cross Flatts Park. Throughout my injury time I have been attending parkrun as a volunteer, but now I'm back on my feet I've taken advantage of our hilly 5k course as part of my rehabilitation. Before the clock started at 9am on Saturday morning I decided that I was going to run the course twice, finish the 5k, get my barcode scanned and set off to do it again, just to see if I could complete 10k.
My actual parkrun time was 24:33, the first time sub 25 minutes since doing my knee in, mostly thanks to Debs who I'm sure I wasn't racing against! The second 5k took a much more leisurely 27:09. Combined times of 51:42 for 10k (all be it with a couple of minutes breather in the middle) gives me so much hope for a decent Dash. Even if I run the slow 27:09 pace for the full course on Sunday I will come in 3 minutes under last years time. If I wasn't looking forward to race day before parkrun, I sure am now!
Monday, 20 October 2014
Couch to 10k...again!
It's been a while. My last run*, just me and my running kit, was 2 months ago. Yesterday, complete with a hangover that was much milder than it deserved to be, I set out into the cold morning air and I ran. Not only was I still a little drunk, but I was also scared. My injured knee had only ever been painful when under stress so I had no real way of knowing if I was fit to run or not, I also didn't want to do myself any more damage. At least this time I was wearing a new pair of trainers, trainers suited to my pronating feet.
I decided to start small and went back to my first ever recorded run route. One lap of Cross Flatts Park. 1.22 miles, just short of 2k, with a couple of climes and a flight of stairs who anybody who has taken part in Cross Flatts parkrun will be only too aware of. I took a deep breath and set off, slowly.
It took me just shy of 12 minutes to get round, well off my pre-injury pace, but I got round in one piece. My knee hadn't flared up, I wasn't out of breath, I hadn't broken much of a sweat, and I wanted to run more. I stopped myself from setting off for a second lap and went home to care for my hangover with crumpets.
This morning at work I opened up my running schedule, a document which I hadn't looked at since 16th August. My first task was to delete all of the runs that I had planned in August and September. weeks of 0 miles shone back at me off my monitor, then I scrolled down. In 4 weeks time it's the Abbey Dash!
I have 4 weeks to get back from not running at all to completing one of the UKs most iconic 10k races. I was never going to set the world a light but with only 4 weeks to train I'm not sure if my legs will have it in them to cross the finish line in front of Leeds Town Hall.
I've rewritten my running schedule following my physio's advice. I'm sticking to short runs every other day to start with, to help remind my legs what they are capable of. Unfortunately this means my first 10k after injury will be on race day, but, as long as I'm sensible, I will running a race which looked out of reach a couple of weeks ago.
I'd love to hear what you think of the above plan. Too much too soon, about right, fine as long as it's slow, not far enough? All advice taken with a pinch of salt, probably on a huge pile of carbs before the Dash!
*not including a brilliant Art Run organised by Veggie Runners.
I decided to start small and went back to my first ever recorded run route. One lap of Cross Flatts Park. 1.22 miles, just short of 2k, with a couple of climes and a flight of stairs who anybody who has taken part in Cross Flatts parkrun will be only too aware of. I took a deep breath and set off, slowly.
It took me just shy of 12 minutes to get round, well off my pre-injury pace, but I got round in one piece. My knee hadn't flared up, I wasn't out of breath, I hadn't broken much of a sweat, and I wanted to run more. I stopped myself from setting off for a second lap and went home to care for my hangover with crumpets.
This morning at work I opened up my running schedule, a document which I hadn't looked at since 16th August. My first task was to delete all of the runs that I had planned in August and September. weeks of 0 miles shone back at me off my monitor, then I scrolled down. In 4 weeks time it's the Abbey Dash!
I have 4 weeks to get back from not running at all to completing one of the UKs most iconic 10k races. I was never going to set the world a light but with only 4 weeks to train I'm not sure if my legs will have it in them to cross the finish line in front of Leeds Town Hall.
 |
| Running schedule for the next 4 weeks. |
I've rewritten my running schedule following my physio's advice. I'm sticking to short runs every other day to start with, to help remind my legs what they are capable of. Unfortunately this means my first 10k after injury will be on race day, but, as long as I'm sensible, I will running a race which looked out of reach a couple of weeks ago.
I'd love to hear what you think of the above plan. Too much too soon, about right, fine as long as it's slow, not far enough? All advice taken with a pinch of salt, probably on a huge pile of carbs before the Dash!
*not including a brilliant Art Run organised by Veggie Runners.
Wednesday, 8 October 2014
Every Cloud has a Silver Lining
Last week I received some very exciting news through the post. A bright red envelope from the organisers of the London Marathon. Inside was a rather stylish winter training top, a letter, and a magazine. Like people up and down the country I knew there and then, that I was NOT going to be running in the 2015 London Marathon.
For most people, the "Sorry!" you're not running letter was a kick in the teeth. I know one lad who has had the same news six years in a row. He, along with thousands of others, are understandably crest fallen. Running a marathon is a huge achievement and takes serious dedication. Even taking the first step and signing up to one is a step too far for many, so entering the ballot for the London Marathon and then waiting for six months to discover that you don't have a place is gutting.
I, on the other hand, am actually very glad that I didn't get a place. When I entered the ballot back in April, I was at the peak of my training for the Leeds Half Marathon and already looking for my next challenge. I decided 2015 was going to be the year that I would run a marathon. It made sense. My first 10k 2013, first half marathon 2014, first marathon 2015. Then I could stop.
However, part of my plan for entering London was to be going for 10 to 12 mile runs regularly by the time the ballot was drawn. As I'm sure you are aware I'm not running at all at the moment due to an ongoing knee injury. I couldn't even manage a 5k parkrun at the moment, never mind the 13.1 miles of a half marathon. If I had been successful I would now have until April to get marathon fit. It took me that long last year to get from running 10k to the start line of the half marathon!
So I'm relieved that I didn't get a place for London. It has taken a great deal of pressure off me. I can now concentrate on getting back to running at a more sensible pace. I can take my time and make sure my knee is better before putting it under any more strain than is necessary.
2015 will still be the year that I run my first marathon, it just won't be London. Before all of that though, there is the small matter of the Abbey Dash on 16th November. All things being equal I'll make it round in one piece. I don't think my time of 57:18 from last year is in danger, not if I want to stick to my slow recovery plan. It'll be nice to be able to treat it as a long slow run and enjoy the silver lining that I will be running again.
For most people, the "Sorry!" you're not running letter was a kick in the teeth. I know one lad who has had the same news six years in a row. He, along with thousands of others, are understandably crest fallen. Running a marathon is a huge achievement and takes serious dedication. Even taking the first step and signing up to one is a step too far for many, so entering the ballot for the London Marathon and then waiting for six months to discover that you don't have a place is gutting.
I, on the other hand, am actually very glad that I didn't get a place. When I entered the ballot back in April, I was at the peak of my training for the Leeds Half Marathon and already looking for my next challenge. I decided 2015 was going to be the year that I would run a marathon. It made sense. My first 10k 2013, first half marathon 2014, first marathon 2015. Then I could stop.
However, part of my plan for entering London was to be going for 10 to 12 mile runs regularly by the time the ballot was drawn. As I'm sure you are aware I'm not running at all at the moment due to an ongoing knee injury. I couldn't even manage a 5k parkrun at the moment, never mind the 13.1 miles of a half marathon. If I had been successful I would now have until April to get marathon fit. It took me that long last year to get from running 10k to the start line of the half marathon!
So I'm relieved that I didn't get a place for London. It has taken a great deal of pressure off me. I can now concentrate on getting back to running at a more sensible pace. I can take my time and make sure my knee is better before putting it under any more strain than is necessary.
2015 will still be the year that I run my first marathon, it just won't be London. Before all of that though, there is the small matter of the Abbey Dash on 16th November. All things being equal I'll make it round in one piece. I don't think my time of 57:18 from last year is in danger, not if I want to stick to my slow recovery plan. It'll be nice to be able to treat it as a long slow run and enjoy the silver lining that I will be running again.
Monday, 22 September 2014
Yorkshire 3 Peaks.
There is an old proverb: Before you run, first you must learn to walk. At its heart is the message that you should master a basic skill before you move onto anything more complex. Well, with my knee preventing me from running I thought that a good walk would be no bad thing, a way to keep moving and keep flexing my aching joint without the strain of pounding the pavements for mile on end. I suppose if I had followed the teachings of the proverb fully I would have started my forays into walking with a nice gentle stroll but no, that's just not me.
On the 23rd August, a couple of weeks after getting injured, I signed up to walk the Yorkshire 3 Peaks with a group from South Leeds. In the back of my mind I knew it would be a long walk. Of course it would be hilly, but I didn't really stop to think about the scale of the challenge. I now know that Whernside, Ingleborough, and Pen-Y-Ghent, make Churwell Hill look like a billiard table.
This Saturday our group of 30 set off from the car park of the Station Inn at Ribbleshead. This in itself is unusual as it meant we were starting with the second peak. The rationale behind this was that not everybody on the trip was going to be able to complete all 3 peaks. Starting at Whernside gave people the chance to attempt 1, 2, or all 3 peaks. This suited me down to the ground as to be honest I had absolutely no idea if my knee would be up for it. I had heard that walking poles could halve the strain on knees so I borrowed a pair for the day, just in case.
I'll be honest, I had very mixed emotions. I was excited at the challenge, race day nerves and adrenalin kicked in, our bus couldn't get to the start fast enough, but at the same time I was scared. I was trying to stay calm, trying to be sensible, trying to remember at all times that I am technically injured. The problem is my knee feels fine unless I'm running and as I've not run in about a month I had no idea if it was better, worse, or still just as bad as it had been.
The first climb was fine. I started using the poles straight away so that I could get used to them. Our pace was good and we passed a load of other walkers, but our group was already fragmented. One team set off straight to Ingleborough, aiming to climb 1 peak then have an afternoon in Horton-in-Ribblesdale. The Majority of us had come up Whernside, but at varying speeds. We had agreed to stick with Ed, one of the walk organisers, who was intending to stick at the front, so we took our first break at the summit while he and the rest of the fast group caught up.
The first decent, in fact the first couple of steps of the first decent sounded alarm bells. I soon realised that I lead with my right foot, leaving my left leg to support my weight. With every step twinges became aches and aches soon became pain. I had to remember to lead with my left leg and keep it as straight as possible but that proved harder than learning to walk again. For the first time, and not for the last, my two walking companions (Debs and Mike), left me behind as momentum and a pair of working knees each carried them down Whernside.
They did wait for me at the bottom, and we in turn waited for the rest of the fast group at the brilliantly placed "tea room" nestled in a barn at the foot of the hill. It was during this stop that I started to seriously consider what I was doing. One peak down, two to go. My knee felt fine again but I now knew what to expect on the next decline.
"I'll get up and down Ingleborough and call it a day. I don't want to do any lasting damage. Everybody knows I have a knackered knee. There is no shame in only doing 2 peaks when injured." I told myself.
Unlike Whernside going up Ingleborough was hard work. The initial walk through cow fields was fine. We had lost the rest of the group by the time we came to the single file stone causeway across the bogs at the foot of the hill. Then we came to the steps. If you have never climbed Ingleborough I can only describe the way up as being akin to the steps of Cirith Ungol, the route that Smegol took with Sam and Frodo into Mordor. Steep doesn't really come close. Any steeper and you would need a harness and crampons. The knee was still fine but a month of relative inactivity, give or take the odd swim, began to show.
I was thirsty, hungry, short of breath, and my head was starting to swim. I needed a breather. I had no idea that my fitness level had dropped so much, but I was close to the top of peak number 2 so I pushed on to the second trig point. I turns out that my lack of pace was a blessing as I was the only one of the three of us who noticed the signpost for the path back to Horton during the climb. I took on fluids, ate one of the nicest bananas I have ever consumed, re-adjusted my walking poles and set off again, knowing that the next section was going to be painful.
I was right, coming down from Ingleborough was bad. Worse than the first decent. The miles were starting to take their toll and I was still forgetting to lead with my left foot. Debs was knocked off her feet while she was adjusting her footwear by Bailey, an over-friendly chocolate Labrador. Mike fell over trying to get past a group of Sunday-walkers. But camaraderie kept us going. That and peanut butter sandwiches.
As we closed in on Horton we started to discuss the third peak. We had come so far and, like me, Debs is very self competitive. It's not about beating others, it's about completing what we set out to achieve. We had come to walk the three peaks after all. The plan set out by the organisers was to all meet up in the car park and anybody who wanted to climb Pen-Y-Ghent could do so and then come back down into Horton having climbed all 3 peaks. We were at the car park early, having left everyone behind and the decision was quickly made by my companions that they were going to climb Pen-Y-Ghent and carry on back to the Ribbleshead Viaduct to complete the 25 mile walk.
I was not staying put. My head was telling me that I should stop. One climb left. One more trig point to touch. Just one more hill to come back down. I was still concerned that I my knee was just going to pop and leave me stranded, or worse, tumbling down a sheer drop. My heart however wanted to finish the challenge and wanted my head to shut up. We tried to contact the other walkers, leaving texts and voice messages, and set off for the final 9.5 miles. We calculated that we had just enough time to complete the walk before sunset at 7pm.
Most people I have talked to about the 3 Peaks have told me that Pen-Y-Ghent is the best hill because it's quite short. I can guarantee with almost 100% certainty that these people have only ever walked up Pen-Y-Gent as the first of the 3 peaks. Doing it last sapped what was left of my energy. True to form Mike and Debs waited at the top. As I pulled myself towards that last trig point they were sat in the lea of the wind, tucking into dried fruit and nuts, as if they had just stepped out of the house and were waiting for a bus to take them shopping.
All that was left was the final decent followed by a 7 mile slog back to the start. It didn't take long before, in true Top Gear fashion, I was left behind like Richard Hammond, with my aching knee, being taunted by a back-up car of dubious prospect. I hobbled down the shale path as fast as I could but there was no way I could keep up, not until the gradient levelled out. Then, from nowhere, I ran using the poles as propulsion. I must have looked like a cross between a red setter and one of the Wheelers from Return To Oz.
Reunited we crunched, chatted, and laughed our way back to The Station Inn. We were not 100% sure we were heading in the right direction as our maps were low quality copies and lots of the sign posts had missing arrows. Around every twist and over every crest the longed for sight of the viaduct was acting as our chequered flag. Every now and then we would catch a glimpse of a far off bridge and it gave us hope. Just as the sun slipped behind Whernside we made it back to the pub, where we waited, celebratory beer in hand, for the mini-bus to carry us home.
Against my better judgement, relative lack of fitness, and gammy knee, I had completed the 3 Peaks in just under 9 hours. The poles were a Godsend at all times. They were like I had my own personal banisters. I could pull myself uphill and steady myself going down, and of course they helped me keep up with my more able walking mates. I honestly don't think I would have made it around without them. However, as glad as I am that I completed the challenge, I now know that I am still on the long road to recovery as far as running goes.
It's still a couple of weeks before I see a physio but I've waited this long so I'll just keep up the swimming until then.
Massive thanks to Ed and Mark for organising the day out, to Al for lending me the poles, and to Debs and Mike for getting me home in one piece. This was my first attempt at the 3 peaks, I had no idea what lay in store. Once my leg is in better nick and I have built my fitness levels back up, I will head back to Horton-In-Ribblesdale, clock in at the cafe and tackle them again. Only next time, I'll be running!
On the 23rd August, a couple of weeks after getting injured, I signed up to walk the Yorkshire 3 Peaks with a group from South Leeds. In the back of my mind I knew it would be a long walk. Of course it would be hilly, but I didn't really stop to think about the scale of the challenge. I now know that Whernside, Ingleborough, and Pen-Y-Ghent, make Churwell Hill look like a billiard table.
 |
| Ribbleshead Viaduct |
I'll be honest, I had very mixed emotions. I was excited at the challenge, race day nerves and adrenalin kicked in, our bus couldn't get to the start fast enough, but at the same time I was scared. I was trying to stay calm, trying to be sensible, trying to remember at all times that I am technically injured. The problem is my knee feels fine unless I'm running and as I've not run in about a month I had no idea if it was better, worse, or still just as bad as it had been.
The first climb was fine. I started using the poles straight away so that I could get used to them. Our pace was good and we passed a load of other walkers, but our group was already fragmented. One team set off straight to Ingleborough, aiming to climb 1 peak then have an afternoon in Horton-in-Ribblesdale. The Majority of us had come up Whernside, but at varying speeds. We had agreed to stick with Ed, one of the walk organisers, who was intending to stick at the front, so we took our first break at the summit while he and the rest of the fast group caught up.
The first decent, in fact the first couple of steps of the first decent sounded alarm bells. I soon realised that I lead with my right foot, leaving my left leg to support my weight. With every step twinges became aches and aches soon became pain. I had to remember to lead with my left leg and keep it as straight as possible but that proved harder than learning to walk again. For the first time, and not for the last, my two walking companions (Debs and Mike), left me behind as momentum and a pair of working knees each carried them down Whernside.
They did wait for me at the bottom, and we in turn waited for the rest of the fast group at the brilliantly placed "tea room" nestled in a barn at the foot of the hill. It was during this stop that I started to seriously consider what I was doing. One peak down, two to go. My knee felt fine again but I now knew what to expect on the next decline.
 |
| The steps of Cirith Ungol |
Unlike Whernside going up Ingleborough was hard work. The initial walk through cow fields was fine. We had lost the rest of the group by the time we came to the single file stone causeway across the bogs at the foot of the hill. Then we came to the steps. If you have never climbed Ingleborough I can only describe the way up as being akin to the steps of Cirith Ungol, the route that Smegol took with Sam and Frodo into Mordor. Steep doesn't really come close. Any steeper and you would need a harness and crampons. The knee was still fine but a month of relative inactivity, give or take the odd swim, began to show.
I was thirsty, hungry, short of breath, and my head was starting to swim. I needed a breather. I had no idea that my fitness level had dropped so much, but I was close to the top of peak number 2 so I pushed on to the second trig point. I turns out that my lack of pace was a blessing as I was the only one of the three of us who noticed the signpost for the path back to Horton during the climb. I took on fluids, ate one of the nicest bananas I have ever consumed, re-adjusted my walking poles and set off again, knowing that the next section was going to be painful.
I was right, coming down from Ingleborough was bad. Worse than the first decent. The miles were starting to take their toll and I was still forgetting to lead with my left foot. Debs was knocked off her feet while she was adjusting her footwear by Bailey, an over-friendly chocolate Labrador. Mike fell over trying to get past a group of Sunday-walkers. But camaraderie kept us going. That and peanut butter sandwiches.
 |
| Mike, Debs, Sancho at the top of Ingleborough. |
I was not staying put. My head was telling me that I should stop. One climb left. One more trig point to touch. Just one more hill to come back down. I was still concerned that I my knee was just going to pop and leave me stranded, or worse, tumbling down a sheer drop. My heart however wanted to finish the challenge and wanted my head to shut up. We tried to contact the other walkers, leaving texts and voice messages, and set off for the final 9.5 miles. We calculated that we had just enough time to complete the walk before sunset at 7pm.
Most people I have talked to about the 3 Peaks have told me that Pen-Y-Ghent is the best hill because it's quite short. I can guarantee with almost 100% certainty that these people have only ever walked up Pen-Y-Gent as the first of the 3 peaks. Doing it last sapped what was left of my energy. True to form Mike and Debs waited at the top. As I pulled myself towards that last trig point they were sat in the lea of the wind, tucking into dried fruit and nuts, as if they had just stepped out of the house and were waiting for a bus to take them shopping.
All that was left was the final decent followed by a 7 mile slog back to the start. It didn't take long before, in true Top Gear fashion, I was left behind like Richard Hammond, with my aching knee, being taunted by a back-up car of dubious prospect. I hobbled down the shale path as fast as I could but there was no way I could keep up, not until the gradient levelled out. Then, from nowhere, I ran using the poles as propulsion. I must have looked like a cross between a red setter and one of the Wheelers from Return To Oz.
 |
| The finish in sight |
Against my better judgement, relative lack of fitness, and gammy knee, I had completed the 3 Peaks in just under 9 hours. The poles were a Godsend at all times. They were like I had my own personal banisters. I could pull myself uphill and steady myself going down, and of course they helped me keep up with my more able walking mates. I honestly don't think I would have made it around without them. However, as glad as I am that I completed the challenge, I now know that I am still on the long road to recovery as far as running goes.
It's still a couple of weeks before I see a physio but I've waited this long so I'll just keep up the swimming until then.
Massive thanks to Ed and Mark for organising the day out, to Al for lending me the poles, and to Debs and Mike for getting me home in one piece. This was my first attempt at the 3 peaks, I had no idea what lay in store. Once my leg is in better nick and I have built my fitness levels back up, I will head back to Horton-In-Ribblesdale, clock in at the cafe and tackle them again. Only next time, I'll be running!
Friday, 12 September 2014
You know you're a runner when...
It's been over a month since I stupidly kept running for an extra couple of hundred meters while my knee was telling me to stop. It's almost a month since I went out for an exploratory run to see if I could work out why my knee had caused me so much pain. It's been four weeks since I went for a slow short run, to test my knee, only to have to walk home under a darkening cloud after under a mile with my clearly not well knee refusing to straighten and aching with every step.
It has been a month since I managed to get an appointment to see my GP, two weeks since I had an x-ray and it will be another month before I finally get to see a physiotherapist. Today however I got some news. The x-ray results have come back clear, there is no bone damage to my patella and there are no signs of arthritis. This is very good news!
For the last month I have felt like a caged bear. I know that I have been tetchy and more than a bit of a grump, but I hadn't really put it down to not running. But I have realised that running was not only befitting me physically, but it seems that it was also having positive effect on my mental health too. Or rather not running has had a negative effect on my mental health.
To counter this I've started swimming, once a week to start with but I'm upping that to twice a week. I'm also considering cycling to and from work. Swimming has been hard. When you go for a run there is every chance that you will pass two or three other runners, but there are always lots of other swimmers as pool time is limited. That is a lot of people to witness you swim and it turns out that I am rubbish at swimming, probably as bad as I was at running a couple of years ago.
Both swimming and cycling are aimed at keeping me fit and strengthening my knee in preparation for running again, but I hope that they will go some way to giving me the endorphins that my mind craves. So far swimming is not doing that as I am constantly the slowest person in the pool. I know they are not, but it feels like every pair of goggles is watching me tread water. It feels like I'm being passed by the man in the panda suit during last years Leeds 10k every time I get in the pool. But I'm sure, as with running, I will get better if I only keep going.
I know that I am not not ready to start running again yet, my knee feels kind of hollow and it creaks like a barn door on a cold winter night, but when I am ready I have my new trainers to look forward to. I'm not going to rush things but there is the small matter of the Abbey Dash in November, a month after my first physio session, assuming I haven't gone crazy in the meantime.
I tend to stay away from labels. Foodie, blogger, runner, are all things that others have told me that I am. Not being able to run has shown me once and for all that I am a runner, all be it not a very good one. I miss it. Seeing other people out for a run upsets me. Volunteering at ParkRun is like putting myself through Chinese Water Torture. But I know that I will run again. It will be tough to start with, but the thought of putting my headphones in, starting my watch and running down the road, injury free, is enough to make me smile at those running past, happy knowing that one day I'll feel the runners high again.
It has been a month since I managed to get an appointment to see my GP, two weeks since I had an x-ray and it will be another month before I finally get to see a physiotherapist. Today however I got some news. The x-ray results have come back clear, there is no bone damage to my patella and there are no signs of arthritis. This is very good news!
For the last month I have felt like a caged bear. I know that I have been tetchy and more than a bit of a grump, but I hadn't really put it down to not running. But I have realised that running was not only befitting me physically, but it seems that it was also having positive effect on my mental health too. Or rather not running has had a negative effect on my mental health.
To counter this I've started swimming, once a week to start with but I'm upping that to twice a week. I'm also considering cycling to and from work. Swimming has been hard. When you go for a run there is every chance that you will pass two or three other runners, but there are always lots of other swimmers as pool time is limited. That is a lot of people to witness you swim and it turns out that I am rubbish at swimming, probably as bad as I was at running a couple of years ago.
Both swimming and cycling are aimed at keeping me fit and strengthening my knee in preparation for running again, but I hope that they will go some way to giving me the endorphins that my mind craves. So far swimming is not doing that as I am constantly the slowest person in the pool. I know they are not, but it feels like every pair of goggles is watching me tread water. It feels like I'm being passed by the man in the panda suit during last years Leeds 10k every time I get in the pool. But I'm sure, as with running, I will get better if I only keep going.
 |
| New Boots. |
I know that I am not not ready to start running again yet, my knee feels kind of hollow and it creaks like a barn door on a cold winter night, but when I am ready I have my new trainers to look forward to. I'm not going to rush things but there is the small matter of the Abbey Dash in November, a month after my first physio session, assuming I haven't gone crazy in the meantime.
I tend to stay away from labels. Foodie, blogger, runner, are all things that others have told me that I am. Not being able to run has shown me once and for all that I am a runner, all be it not a very good one. I miss it. Seeing other people out for a run upsets me. Volunteering at ParkRun is like putting myself through Chinese Water Torture. But I know that I will run again. It will be tough to start with, but the thought of putting my headphones in, starting my watch and running down the road, injury free, is enough to make me smile at those running past, happy knowing that one day I'll feel the runners high again.
Friday, 8 August 2014
100 Mile August: Week 1 - False Start
I know that I have been lucky so far. You hear stories on running forums and people regale you with tales that would strike fear in the heart of any mortal man. We have all seen professional athletes struck down in the home straight, but since I started running the worst injuries I have had are the occasional blister, solved with running socks, and joggers nipple, solved with Vaseline and plasters. That changed this week, the first week of my 100 mile challenge.
It started off so well too. The first 3.1miles were at Cross Flatts Parkrun. I had previously avoided Parkruns as Saturday was one of my rest days. If I did want to run on Saturday I could be up, out of the house, and back home before Parkrun started. But I've now been six times and I do like the community aspect and the comradery that I assume you get at running clubs. Being a solo runner this is as close to a club as I have experienced.
On Sunday I faced my own personal demon, Churwell Hill. I started running up Elland Road as part of my half marathon training and I have never looked back. It is about as steep an incline as we have in South Leeds and it's almost as tricky to run down as it is to run up. With close to 10 miles already in the bag I took my first scheduled rest day in my stride on Monday as I got ready for three runs in three days. The plan was 8k, 10k, 8k, which would take me over 25 miles for the week.
The initial problem with that plan is that I really don't like running 8k. It could just be that the routes that I have found for that distance are uninspiring but even on race days I find the kilometre from 7 to 8 to be the hardest of the race. In order to get over my self imposed hurdle I planned a new route that would take me running through Middleton Woods for the first time. Needless to say I got lost. I don't run with a GPS device so I have no idea what my actual mileage was on Tuesday. It was more than the 5 miles that it should have been but lord knows by how much.
Other than getting lost I really enjoyed the run, especially the long steady down hill section from the Middleton water tower to the Tommy Wass. It's a great stretch for concentrating on form and can give you an added core workout on top of the miles. Three runs in the bag and I was feeling good, but that was due to come to an end a few 100 metres from home at the end of a 6.4 mile run on Wednesday.
Odd niggles are fine. I've run on stiff joints and learnt new stretching techniques to target problem areas. I have been known to slow to a walking pace if my legs feel too heavy or my lungs are fit to burst. But on Wednesday a pain in my left leg shifted from top to bottom with every stride. If I had been further from home I would have stopped but I foolishly hobbled on even though I was wincing with every step. I stretched as normal and expected to wake up on Thursday immobile. But come Thursday morning I had full mobility. This was great, being injured is not something I desire, especially not in the first week of a 100 mile challenge, but I needed to know what had caused such discomfort.
I spent the day at work self-analysing my leg and googleing leg injuries. At one point I though it was a lower quad problem. I adjusted my chair to be more comfortable and then my upper hamstring started to ache. I was getting nowhere. Apart from anything else I'm not a physiotherapist and know very little about my own anatomy, never mind how to make it stop hurting.
Throughout the day I was sure of one thing, I was still going to go out for a run after work. What's the worst that could happen? In the end my head, heart and legs came to a compromise. I did go for a run, but not the 8k that was scheduled. I went out for a slow 5k recovery run just to see if I could work out what the problem was.
In order to really listen to my legs I even went out without my ever-present ipod*. Within the first couple of kilometres my quad was stiff and aching but nothing disastrous. My route has a climb at 3ks and that is when I started to realise that my problem wasn't muscular. As soon as I started up the hill my knee started playing up. Stiff, sore, stabbing with every step. My gait altered to relieve the pressure on my aching joint, that's when I realised that was exactly what I must have done subconsciously on Wednesday.
Towards the end of the run, completed in 26 minutes, I also realised that my left foot was rotating inwards with every step. This, I think is the root cause of my problem. I have had my current trainers since February and they have carried me for 432 miles. Wisdom dictates that you should change your trainers yearly or after 500 miles, whichever comes first. I have been on the verge of getting my gait analysed and buying a new pair since finishing the Leeds 10k, but this week has made me determined to make the time to go and spend some money.
Today is a rest day, I have even booked an appointment to see the physio that happens to be one of my tenants at work. I plan to be back at Parkrun tomorrow to keep the challenge going. I'm going to dig out my last pair of trainers to see if they will make any difference as they have a bit more support built in than my current pair. Sunday I'll be doing that thing that runners love, buying new trainers so that I can complete the next 76.1 miles.
*I really don't like running without music. I'll come back to this later.
It started off so well too. The first 3.1miles were at Cross Flatts Parkrun. I had previously avoided Parkruns as Saturday was one of my rest days. If I did want to run on Saturday I could be up, out of the house, and back home before Parkrun started. But I've now been six times and I do like the community aspect and the comradery that I assume you get at running clubs. Being a solo runner this is as close to a club as I have experienced.
On Sunday I faced my own personal demon, Churwell Hill. I started running up Elland Road as part of my half marathon training and I have never looked back. It is about as steep an incline as we have in South Leeds and it's almost as tricky to run down as it is to run up. With close to 10 miles already in the bag I took my first scheduled rest day in my stride on Monday as I got ready for three runs in three days. The plan was 8k, 10k, 8k, which would take me over 25 miles for the week.
The initial problem with that plan is that I really don't like running 8k. It could just be that the routes that I have found for that distance are uninspiring but even on race days I find the kilometre from 7 to 8 to be the hardest of the race. In order to get over my self imposed hurdle I planned a new route that would take me running through Middleton Woods for the first time. Needless to say I got lost. I don't run with a GPS device so I have no idea what my actual mileage was on Tuesday. It was more than the 5 miles that it should have been but lord knows by how much.
Other than getting lost I really enjoyed the run, especially the long steady down hill section from the Middleton water tower to the Tommy Wass. It's a great stretch for concentrating on form and can give you an added core workout on top of the miles. Three runs in the bag and I was feeling good, but that was due to come to an end a few 100 metres from home at the end of a 6.4 mile run on Wednesday.
Odd niggles are fine. I've run on stiff joints and learnt new stretching techniques to target problem areas. I have been known to slow to a walking pace if my legs feel too heavy or my lungs are fit to burst. But on Wednesday a pain in my left leg shifted from top to bottom with every stride. If I had been further from home I would have stopped but I foolishly hobbled on even though I was wincing with every step. I stretched as normal and expected to wake up on Thursday immobile. But come Thursday morning I had full mobility. This was great, being injured is not something I desire, especially not in the first week of a 100 mile challenge, but I needed to know what had caused such discomfort.
I spent the day at work self-analysing my leg and googleing leg injuries. At one point I though it was a lower quad problem. I adjusted my chair to be more comfortable and then my upper hamstring started to ache. I was getting nowhere. Apart from anything else I'm not a physiotherapist and know very little about my own anatomy, never mind how to make it stop hurting.
Throughout the day I was sure of one thing, I was still going to go out for a run after work. What's the worst that could happen? In the end my head, heart and legs came to a compromise. I did go for a run, but not the 8k that was scheduled. I went out for a slow 5k recovery run just to see if I could work out what the problem was.
In order to really listen to my legs I even went out without my ever-present ipod*. Within the first couple of kilometres my quad was stiff and aching but nothing disastrous. My route has a climb at 3ks and that is when I started to realise that my problem wasn't muscular. As soon as I started up the hill my knee started playing up. Stiff, sore, stabbing with every step. My gait altered to relieve the pressure on my aching joint, that's when I realised that was exactly what I must have done subconsciously on Wednesday.
Towards the end of the run, completed in 26 minutes, I also realised that my left foot was rotating inwards with every step. This, I think is the root cause of my problem. I have had my current trainers since February and they have carried me for 432 miles. Wisdom dictates that you should change your trainers yearly or after 500 miles, whichever comes first. I have been on the verge of getting my gait analysed and buying a new pair since finishing the Leeds 10k, but this week has made me determined to make the time to go and spend some money.
Today is a rest day, I have even booked an appointment to see the physio that happens to be one of my tenants at work. I plan to be back at Parkrun tomorrow to keep the challenge going. I'm going to dig out my last pair of trainers to see if they will make any difference as they have a bit more support built in than my current pair. Sunday I'll be doing that thing that runners love, buying new trainers so that I can complete the next 76.1 miles.
***UP DATE***
Having now seen the Physio I have been told not to run for seven days. The problem is trainer related but it is my Vastus Medialis Oblique (VMO) that is no longer taking the strain. I have a series of exercises to complete a couple of times a day in the mean time and I have been instructed to definitely get new trainers. 100 mile August is already looking like it's over as I'll miss another 25 miles this week to add to the mile and a bit that I missed yesterday.
100 miles a month is achievable and I think my general fitness and stamina is there to do it. The question is should I write August off and look at 100 mile September or just carry the missed 7 days over? What would you do?
*I really don't like running without music. I'll come back to this later.
Friday, 1 August 2014
100 Mile August
It's been a couple of weeks since I elatedly finished the Leeds 10k and, I'll be honest, I've only pulled on my trainers twice. This is mainly because I have just come back from a glorious holiday in Wales. I took the decision not to take my kit with me and to allow myself a well earned break from running. This was my first planned running break since I started running in 2012. There have been unplanned breaks and it is those I need to keep on top of.
The problem is, and this is an odd thing to be writing on a running blog, I don't actually like running. I love having been for a run. I love planning my runs in advance. I love what running has done for me physically. I'm developing quite a fetish for obscure finishers t-shirts for the races that only have a couple of hundred participants. But the actual running, pulling on my trainers, warming up, plodding up and down the hills of Beeston does nothing for me.
Through running I have learned something about myself. I am target driven. After last year's Leeds 10k I had nothing left to aim for. Although I had failed to set the world alight I didn't have any goals other than my original one to get fit so that I could run around with my son. I had made steps in that direction but I gave myself some time off to recuperate and I was quickly back at square one.
I don't have any races* booked until the Abbey dash in November so I need something to keep me running and that is the challenge of running 100 miles in August. I got the idea from Kass, a friend on Twitter who, having come back from injury, ran 100 miles in July.
I have already missed day 1 of the challenge having spent all day driving home from the holiday, so the first miles under my belt will come tomorrow at Cross Flatts Parkrun. It's only 3.1miles (5k) but a mile is a mile. 25 miles a week will be an increase in my mileage since the Leeds half marathon, I just hope my legs have it in them. We'll see.
*I'm no athlete but I have started referring to any event where I have to pin a number to my shirt as a race. I'm never going to win but that's not the point.
The problem is, and this is an odd thing to be writing on a running blog, I don't actually like running. I love having been for a run. I love planning my runs in advance. I love what running has done for me physically. I'm developing quite a fetish for obscure finishers t-shirts for the races that only have a couple of hundred participants. But the actual running, pulling on my trainers, warming up, plodding up and down the hills of Beeston does nothing for me.
Through running I have learned something about myself. I am target driven. After last year's Leeds 10k I had nothing left to aim for. Although I had failed to set the world alight I didn't have any goals other than my original one to get fit so that I could run around with my son. I had made steps in that direction but I gave myself some time off to recuperate and I was quickly back at square one.
I don't have any races* booked until the Abbey dash in November so I need something to keep me running and that is the challenge of running 100 miles in August. I got the idea from Kass, a friend on Twitter who, having come back from injury, ran 100 miles in July.
I have already missed day 1 of the challenge having spent all day driving home from the holiday, so the first miles under my belt will come tomorrow at Cross Flatts Parkrun. It's only 3.1miles (5k) but a mile is a mile. 25 miles a week will be an increase in my mileage since the Leeds half marathon, I just hope my legs have it in them. We'll see.
*I'm no athlete but I have started referring to any event where I have to pin a number to my shirt as a race. I'm never going to win but that's not the point.
Monday, 21 July 2014
Leeds 10k 2014
As I have mentioned before, the Leeds 10k 2013 was my first ever race. I was under prepared physically and mentally, but I completed the course and wore my souvenir drab grey t-shirt on many a training run during winter. Today I returned to the scene of last years crimes against running to better myself.
This was actually the fourth time I have walked into Leeds for a race. It the walk feels like an important part of my race part now. So much so that races out of the city leave me feeling a bit like a fish out of water. I set off at 8:00am after a breakfast of black coffee, orange juice and a banana. I know that this doesn't sound like a well rounded and energy packed meal but I like to keep things as normal as possible on race days and that is what I tend to have for breakfast during the week.
One of the reasons I love the walk from Beeston to Leeds on a race day is the growing feeling of excitement and anticipation the closer you get. The first ten minutes or so is a very solitary walk. Only dog walkers tend to be up at that time on a Sunday morning. Once you make it to Bridgewater place you start to see more runners, only one or two at first, but once you are through the tunnel under the train station you are suddenly part of a mass migration towards Millennium Square. It does feel primal, like we are being called to an ancient ritual site. We are however being corralled and sorted into race pens, to keep similarly paced runners together. This works, after a fashion, but I'll come back to that in a bit.
First things first, I went for a wee. My fourth of the morning. I think my bladder wanted no part in any excuses I might have for a poor race after last years forced comfort break. The public toilets in Millenium Square were open and that was fine, but only if you were a bloke. The queue for the ladies was HUGE and there didn't seem to be many portaloos available. I'm sure this was causing quite a lot of stress for a lot of people.
I spotted the Sub 50 marker and, due to a change of planning by Run for All, I ended up stood on the same piece of ground as I was a year ago, the cobbles out side Leeds City Museum to be precise. We milled about for a while, not as long as last year and were soon herded to Merrion Street to wait for the start and to cross the start line on Vicar Lane.
The wait was made much more bearable by bumping into Diane, a friend from twitter and previous runs. We took the mick out of the random warm up guy and tried to focus on the impending race; don't run too fast and try to run in a straight line whenever possible was the plan.
It was a simple plan. All I had to do was keep under 5 minutes for each kilometre and I would achieve my goal. Sounds simple enough in theory. I managed to keep my powder dry and got through the first kilometre in 4:32, settled into a steady pace and without getting boxed in too much, got on with the rest of the race. It's a dull route along Kirlstall Road and back again but there were people cheering us along all the way and that does make a huge difference.
The only tricky bit of the course is when it swings behind the old Harley Davidson garage. It's a tight chicane and everyone wants to stay as close to the corner as possible so bunching and losing rhythm is inevitable. I got to the turn at Kirkstall Morrisons and started the return journey back into town. I went through the 6k point with 20 seconds still in the bag but the heat was starting to get to me. My pace dropped and thoughts of finishing 50+ entered my mind.
At 8k I tried to up my pace again, nothing too fast but I convinced myself that there were only ten minutes to go and then I could stop. At 9k my watch read 44:46. I had just over 5 minutes to cover the last kilometre of the course including the only real hill on the route. All of my training routes include hills of some kind, all of them more severe than the slight ramp into town, but it took all my effort not to stop for a walk just to catch my breath.
All that was left was the final 200m in front of the Town Hall. The crowds were huge. We Exist by Arcade Fire came on my ipod and from somewhere I summoned up the energy to sprint to the finish line. I stopped my watch and clung onto the barrier at the side of the road rather than falling off my exhausted legs. I have learned that my watch time is never the same as my chip time, such is the vagary of which line the time is set from so I tried not to pay attention to the information it was giving me.
Last year I had to wait a day to find out my official time but this time I got a text message instantly. "Congratulations on completing the Asda Foundation Leeds 10K in a time of 49:52". I had done it! Over the moon doesn't come close. In the space of a year I have shaved seventeen minutes off my time. I'm never going to challenge the lads at the front of the pack but that isn't why I run.
It wasn't a perfect race by any stretch of the imagination. Starting the race with people aiming to run approximately the same pace should eliminate having to run around the slower runners but the corporate teams, who started after the elite runners and before the rest of us, were of mixed ability. Having people already walking after the first kilometre meant having weave, exactly one of the things I wanted to avoid doing. But if that is my only complaint of the day it can't have been too bad.
The 2014 Leeds 10k was a great and well organised race. There were fewer water stations than last year but it was cooler than last year too. I already have my place booked for the 2015 race and hopefully by then I'll be looking at a time sub 45. Best get running!
This was actually the fourth time I have walked into Leeds for a race. It the walk feels like an important part of my race part now. So much so that races out of the city leave me feeling a bit like a fish out of water. I set off at 8:00am after a breakfast of black coffee, orange juice and a banana. I know that this doesn't sound like a well rounded and energy packed meal but I like to keep things as normal as possible on race days and that is what I tend to have for breakfast during the week.
One of the reasons I love the walk from Beeston to Leeds on a race day is the growing feeling of excitement and anticipation the closer you get. The first ten minutes or so is a very solitary walk. Only dog walkers tend to be up at that time on a Sunday morning. Once you make it to Bridgewater place you start to see more runners, only one or two at first, but once you are through the tunnel under the train station you are suddenly part of a mass migration towards Millennium Square. It does feel primal, like we are being called to an ancient ritual site. We are however being corralled and sorted into race pens, to keep similarly paced runners together. This works, after a fashion, but I'll come back to that in a bit.
First things first, I went for a wee. My fourth of the morning. I think my bladder wanted no part in any excuses I might have for a poor race after last years forced comfort break. The public toilets in Millenium Square were open and that was fine, but only if you were a bloke. The queue for the ladies was HUGE and there didn't seem to be many portaloos available. I'm sure this was causing quite a lot of stress for a lot of people.
I spotted the Sub 50 marker and, due to a change of planning by Run for All, I ended up stood on the same piece of ground as I was a year ago, the cobbles out side Leeds City Museum to be precise. We milled about for a while, not as long as last year and were soon herded to Merrion Street to wait for the start and to cross the start line on Vicar Lane.
The wait was made much more bearable by bumping into Diane, a friend from twitter and previous runs. We took the mick out of the random warm up guy and tried to focus on the impending race; don't run too fast and try to run in a straight line whenever possible was the plan.
It was a simple plan. All I had to do was keep under 5 minutes for each kilometre and I would achieve my goal. Sounds simple enough in theory. I managed to keep my powder dry and got through the first kilometre in 4:32, settled into a steady pace and without getting boxed in too much, got on with the rest of the race. It's a dull route along Kirlstall Road and back again but there were people cheering us along all the way and that does make a huge difference.
The only tricky bit of the course is when it swings behind the old Harley Davidson garage. It's a tight chicane and everyone wants to stay as close to the corner as possible so bunching and losing rhythm is inevitable. I got to the turn at Kirkstall Morrisons and started the return journey back into town. I went through the 6k point with 20 seconds still in the bag but the heat was starting to get to me. My pace dropped and thoughts of finishing 50+ entered my mind.
At 8k I tried to up my pace again, nothing too fast but I convinced myself that there were only ten minutes to go and then I could stop. At 9k my watch read 44:46. I had just over 5 minutes to cover the last kilometre of the course including the only real hill on the route. All of my training routes include hills of some kind, all of them more severe than the slight ramp into town, but it took all my effort not to stop for a walk just to catch my breath.
All that was left was the final 200m in front of the Town Hall. The crowds were huge. We Exist by Arcade Fire came on my ipod and from somewhere I summoned up the energy to sprint to the finish line. I stopped my watch and clung onto the barrier at the side of the road rather than falling off my exhausted legs. I have learned that my watch time is never the same as my chip time, such is the vagary of which line the time is set from so I tried not to pay attention to the information it was giving me.
Last year I had to wait a day to find out my official time but this time I got a text message instantly. "Congratulations on completing the Asda Foundation Leeds 10K in a time of 49:52". I had done it! Over the moon doesn't come close. In the space of a year I have shaved seventeen minutes off my time. I'm never going to challenge the lads at the front of the pack but that isn't why I run.
It wasn't a perfect race by any stretch of the imagination. Starting the race with people aiming to run approximately the same pace should eliminate having to run around the slower runners but the corporate teams, who started after the elite runners and before the rest of us, were of mixed ability. Having people already walking after the first kilometre meant having weave, exactly one of the things I wanted to avoid doing. But if that is my only complaint of the day it can't have been too bad.
The 2014 Leeds 10k was a great and well organised race. There were fewer water stations than last year but it was cooler than last year too. I already have my place booked for the 2015 race and hopefully by then I'll be looking at a time sub 45. Best get running!
Friday, 18 July 2014
Leeds 10k 2014 Race Prep
This weekend is the Leeds 10k and it has been on my mind since I finished the same race last year. That was my first race, one that I didn't really prepare myself for and one that has fired me on to run further and train harder. In the race review that I wrote at the time (reposted yesterday) I sound really positive about the experience, but looking back I feel that I had let myself down. Yes it was a wonderful achievement, I'd managed to pull my body around the course without collapsing, but I could've and should've done better.
My first mistake was simply not putting the miles under my feet in the build up to the race. I had wanted to complete my first 10k in around an hour, but I had only run four 5k runs in the two weeks before the race and only one long run of 11k a month earlier. The long run came in at 1:16:47 so although I knew I could run the distance I also knew I was going to miss my 1 hour target.
My second mistake was to be ill the week before the race. Perhaps I should cut myself some slack, we all get ill every now and then. However I'm putting this particular illness down to running and my own naivety. I ended up bed-bound by constipation, I could barely move such was the discomfort that I was in. I know that there are many possible reasons behind this, but to this day I have put it down to not staying hydrated properly while running coupled with pre-race nerves.
My final mistake was a direct result of my second mistake. Race day was set to be hot, very hot, and I was adamant that I was going to be properly hydrated before the race started. Not to put to fine a point on it I drank too much. Smoothie for breakfast, water on the walk to the race, more water waiting at the start. I had to take an unscheduled stop at around 6k for a comfort break and, although I could stop my watch, I had no control over the official timing.
After everything, all that had gone wrong, I crossed the line in 1:07:25. 7 minutes past my target time. I had managed to run/walk 10k. I had raised money for charity. I had even stopped for a pee and I had my first bit of running swag so I was feeling good about myself. I had a pint and Sunday Lunch in one of Leeds' finest watering holes to celebrate. I was elated. I wrote the positive blog and then, having dragged myself around the streets of Leeds, I more or less stopped running. I had no goal, nothing to prove, I already had "The T-Shirt". Over the course of the year that changed and I got back into running having realised how target driven I am.
This year I am ready for the Leeds 10k. I have been running between 20k and 30k a week for months since completing the Leeds Half Marathon in May. I have managed to keep illness and injury free by keeping an eye on what I eat and drink and by listening to my body. I now know what to expect on race day, and I know not to treat it any differently from a normal long run on any other Sunday morning in relation to preparation and taking on fluids.
My current PB for a timed race is 54:10 and that was set on a very muddy and hilly off road race at Harewood House. Beating that time is my obvious goal for the weekend's 10k, however I do have a faster target in mind. I have come close to running sub 50 times during training runs, most of which are much hillier than the Leeds 10k will be. A time of 45:59 or less will leave me over the moon. If you are in Leeds and you see number 4241 hobble past, please give Sancho a shout of encouragement.
My first mistake was simply not putting the miles under my feet in the build up to the race. I had wanted to complete my first 10k in around an hour, but I had only run four 5k runs in the two weeks before the race and only one long run of 11k a month earlier. The long run came in at 1:16:47 so although I knew I could run the distance I also knew I was going to miss my 1 hour target.
My second mistake was to be ill the week before the race. Perhaps I should cut myself some slack, we all get ill every now and then. However I'm putting this particular illness down to running and my own naivety. I ended up bed-bound by constipation, I could barely move such was the discomfort that I was in. I know that there are many possible reasons behind this, but to this day I have put it down to not staying hydrated properly while running coupled with pre-race nerves.
My final mistake was a direct result of my second mistake. Race day was set to be hot, very hot, and I was adamant that I was going to be properly hydrated before the race started. Not to put to fine a point on it I drank too much. Smoothie for breakfast, water on the walk to the race, more water waiting at the start. I had to take an unscheduled stop at around 6k for a comfort break and, although I could stop my watch, I had no control over the official timing.
After everything, all that had gone wrong, I crossed the line in 1:07:25. 7 minutes past my target time. I had managed to run/walk 10k. I had raised money for charity. I had even stopped for a pee and I had my first bit of running swag so I was feeling good about myself. I had a pint and Sunday Lunch in one of Leeds' finest watering holes to celebrate. I was elated. I wrote the positive blog and then, having dragged myself around the streets of Leeds, I more or less stopped running. I had no goal, nothing to prove, I already had "The T-Shirt". Over the course of the year that changed and I got back into running having realised how target driven I am.
This year I am ready for the Leeds 10k. I have been running between 20k and 30k a week for months since completing the Leeds Half Marathon in May. I have managed to keep illness and injury free by keeping an eye on what I eat and drink and by listening to my body. I now know what to expect on race day, and I know not to treat it any differently from a normal long run on any other Sunday morning in relation to preparation and taking on fluids.
My current PB for a timed race is 54:10 and that was set on a very muddy and hilly off road race at Harewood House. Beating that time is my obvious goal for the weekend's 10k, however I do have a faster target in mind. I have come close to running sub 50 times during training runs, most of which are much hillier than the Leeds 10k will be. A time of 45:59 or less will leave me over the moon. If you are in Leeds and you see number 4241 hobble past, please give Sancho a shout of encouragement.
Leeds 10k 2013
Below is my review of the Run For All Leeds 10k 2013. It was my first race and this weekend I'll be running it again. I'm a lot more prepared this time around.
Tuesday, 16 July 2013
Leeds 10k
On Sunday, along with almost 10,000 other people, I took to the mean streets of Leeds to take part in the Leeds 10k. This was my first proper run since deciding to try and get fit in the middle of last year. I'd taken the decision to do something about my fitness after realising that my son, R, would only be getting faster, as I was getting slower.
I got to Millenium Square at 8:10am and started to wonder what I was doing there. Everywhere I looked there were people limbering up, stretching and generally looking like they knew what was going on. A thought dawned on me. If I just set of running, there and then, I could complete the course and be on my way home before the race had even started.
I didn't start running. Instead I nervously stretched, took on water and tried to vanish into the crowds. Now, I know what I put on my application form. I know that I had estimated my time as around one hour and twenty minutes. I do not know why I was corralled in with the elite athletes. This did not do my confidence any favours. The slowest section I could put myself in was sub forty five minutes, half my expected time.
We were ushered, by the army, to the start line, and there we continued to wait. Finally, after standing around like cattle, whilst the morning sun beat down on us, a local radio DJ got us under way. I was aware that I tend to run too fast but there was no slowing down. Running in a crowd is infectious, you become part of a pack. It's the closest I have come to feeling like a zebra on the Serengeti. Luckily the crowds lining the route were a lot more friendly than the packs of lions that encourage the zebras across the plains.
The cheering on-lookers did help, as I'd be told they would. The volunteers handing out water bottles and soaked sponges definitely helped. Being passed by a panda and a banana didn't help my confidence at all. But it was the thought of seeing my son at the finish line that kept my legs moving. That and the thought of the money I'd raised for Bliss, got me over the finish line in one hour and seven minutes.
I know that I'm not going to challenge Mo Farrah any time soon but for me getting over the line was a great achievement. If I can run for an hour, walking every now and the to catch my breath, then I'm sure I can kick a ball around a park with R without the need of an oxygen tank on stand by.
I chose Bliss, the premature baby charity, to run the 10k for as R was born 8 weeks early. We were lucky that we didn't actually need their support but we witnessed first hand the work that they do for families who really need support when their dreams of a normal family life are in turmoil. I know that my run is over but you can still support Bliss by donating on my Just Giving page.
Thursday, 17 July 2014
A long long time ago...
About a year ago, on the 3rd July 2013, I wrote the following blog post. I was about to enter my first ever organised 10k race and I wanted to set out why I had taken up running.
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Running up that hill.
I'll admit it. I'm not getting any younger and I'm certainly not getting any fitter. Quite the reverse in fact. That I haven't managed to any sustain any kind of exercise regime since I was 18 hasn't helped matters. Before going to university I used to play Rugby Union, but I didn't fancy getting involved in the "Uni Club" lifestyle. Instead I started making serious inroads into developing a drinking habit.
I've had the odd dalliance back into getting fit but nothing ever stuck. I joined a gym and went a couple of times. I only found out that it had closed down when I went to cancel my membership. I bought badminton rackets and shuttlecocks but I didn't really look too hard to find an opponent. I did manage to lose some weight after somebody mistook me for Jack Black but that was through diet not exercise.
I am an avid sports fan, but exercise for the sake of it just isn't something that inspires me. Then, last summer, I had an epiphany. We had had some friends visiting for the weekend with their little girl. It had turned into a nice afternoon so we took a trip to the park to let the tiddlers run off some steam before bed time. We also took a football with us, admittedly for the benefit of the dads and not the children.
After twenty minutes or so kicking the ball around I was in a mess. My son, not even two at this point, on the other hand, still had energy to burn. I know it's hard to believe but I was a child once myself. I knew that running around, a lot, is one of the things that children do best. I also knew that in my condition I was in no shape to run around for long periods of time without keeling over. I needed to do something about my lack of fitness before it was called on.
The London Olympics came and went and I still hadn't done anything about getting fit. The memory of that day in the park was still vivid in my mind, but I didn't want to become a gym bunny and the thought of humiliating myself in front of strangers if I joined a sports club terrified me. If I was going to do this I was going to have to do it myself.
I decided to start running. I've been known to mock joggists in the past, but I needed to do something or face a lifetime of fat gags from my son*. I asked around and took some advice, the most important piece of which was to spend some money on a pair of running shoes. There were two reasons for this. The first was the advice. If I started running in my battered old trainers I'd probably injure myself and stop running as soon as I started. The second was the thought of an expensive pair of trainers taunting me every time I saw them unused.
A few months down the line, I'm about to take part in my first 10K. I'm not ready for it by a long way. I'd wanted to set a decent time but I'll settle for finishing and not being humiliated. It's the thought of future summers running around with my son that will get me across the line. I'm also raising money for Bliss, the premature baby charity, but that is for a different post.
*probably the same fat gags I levelled at my dad and he wasn't fat.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)