So it turns out that I had not quite put in enough research for these events either. This was not the flat converted railway line that I was expecting. Instead, we ran 32 loops of an unadopted road which were marked as trails. This was something of a bonus for me though as it introduced hills, something that I thought I would not be seeing during these races whilst being surrounded by them each night in the beautiful All Stretton bunkhouse.
The rain driving against the roof this evening reminds me of the first two thirds of today's run. The incessant downpour which kept the competitors in their rain jackets for most of the race. The temperature was relatively mild however and this made hydration a little trickier to manage but a minor complication in the grand scheme of things.
A first lap jogging the route to make decisions on where walking breaks would begin, and more importantly where they would end. And then another thirty one laps sticking to the task. The puddles and mud growing underfoot with each loop but this soft ground helped to cushion the accumulated impacts.
Eventually time passed. Runners pushing a little harder passed by me a number of times, those taking it easier were passed in turn. More than four hours thirty passed during these laps and little of value passed through m mind. The optical heart rate monitor on my latest piece of shiny equipment proved to be the intermittent trash that I was expecting, but when it started to choose random numbers to report, I had a good feel of where my effort was sitting and could safely ignore it until it returned to reality. The main reoccurring thought was whether my feet were landing softly beneath me. Was I maintaining the minimum damage and maximum efficiency that I could whilst sticking to a gentle effort that could be maintained for three days. The answer was almost always, yes. The thought occasionally held my attention to the point where I missed my mark to begin running again from a walk break but never by more than two metres. It was about as disciplined as I could have hoped for. Lap times were maintained to within a fifteen seconds or so with exceptions made for bathroom'ing. Food was to be taken while walking the hills to avoid wasting time, or to provide any reason to deviate from the points chosen for walking and running.
The rain eased eventually. Finally there was even sunshine. Sweating in layers and a rain jacket because you cannot be bothered with the faff of removing it for the last few kilometres is either a sign of laziness or efficiency. I'm choosing efficiency for today.
And after sensible food and time off my feet, my thoughts move to tomorrow. I'm pretty sure that this one really is on the flattened trail of a railway line.
I would quite like the rain to stop for the morning but I will enjoy listening to it tonight.
Monday, 20 March 2017
Sunday, 19 March 2017
The Year's Challlenge
Thirteen miles in and absolutely no mojo. The legs are moving enough to make the ground pass by but every check of the watch suggests that I should consider a different hobby.
In retrospect I had not given the event enough due consideration. It was local and relatively inexpensive. Couple this with a lack of competing draws upon my time for the day and it was something of a no-brainer. Another step towards a nebulous goal which was of no relevance in the real world or to anyone in full possession of their senses. Only semi-regular checks of the calendar reminded me that this was upcoming and whilst surrounded by similar events with similar names in similar locations it had not registered meaningfully outside of the convenience of its location and thus how late I would be able to set the alarm, and how soon I could be home once the task was complete. Much to my surprise, somebody had put hills in Leicestershire. Not unreasonably, the organisers of the Charnwood Marathon thought that we should go over them.
The day had started well. I was still in bed at six and awoke naturally before the alarm had a chance to get into its repertoire. A leisurely breakfast of the exact same things I eat before every such event. Even time to choose running kit and pack those vital bits and bobs that make the first hour post-race a more humane experience. The fact that these things were not already sitting in their bag and awaiting collection as I moved between the bed and the event was a sure sign of my lackadaisical planning. Somehow I managed to leave the house later than planned and despite a lack of traffic on the pleasantly short hour journey, I was later that I would have wanted to be on arrival. Even so, the efficient team had me parked one hundred and fifty metres from the race headquarters quickly and with time to spare I had made use of the of the bathroom, amazingly lacking a queue to do the excellent choice of headquarters, something unheard of pre-race of almost any size, and registered with the organisers whilst asking a few questions about the route and checkpoints. I had also overheard two people talking about others who had turned up to the event only to find out it was on trails rather than the roads. How could anyone be so disorganised? In my mind, I worried that they probably did not have the route instructions and were probably set for a rough day. It also served to remind me that I should probably use the remaining ten minutes to find my running shoes and dig my own instructions from the car foot well.
A nine o'clock start by the local crier and we were off jogging down the street of the small town. There were a number of faces in the crowd to whom this would be old hat. People you start to recognise after spending your weekends doing enough of these things. Some you will have spoken to on other days. Some of whom you are vaguely aware have completed enough of these things to number their marathons in the high hundreds. A whispered few even more than that. There were only two who's names were known to me, one due to a period of time running together a fortnight before, and the other being another Northampton runner who I should really spend more time talking to about their plans in this area. I have noted him at nearly a dozen of these days but spoke to him for the first time at a road marathon seven days earlier and even then it was the exchange of pleasantries toward the end of the many, many laps of an airfield near Stratford.
And it was that road marathon that was on my mind during the early miles. For all of the trail marathons and ultras undertaken, it is road marathons that can leave my legs feeling jaded for days and weeks afterward. This year, there simply is not time for that. My legs seemed to be moving relatively smoothly considering the short recovery time from the pounding of tarmac, but I was looking forward to getting to the trails and with them, the excuse to walk whenever I saw fit. The name of the game here is to get around without injury and quickly enough to get home and shower and a few hours of relaxation the mind would turn to the next challenge. Smoothly moving legs was good, but I was a little worried as to how long it would last.
And so it was that I reached the thirteen mile mark. Stepping off the roads to the mud and grass had been good but it had also begun the start of the hills. I was happy to walk these as had been the plan, but the volume of uphill had started to move my thoughts of a jog around five hours fifteen, a reasonable time for a self-navigated jaunt off-road, to a slow slog of six hours which could get worse if those legs did not hold up after the abuse of the previous week. This was not the simple ticking off of another marathon before a more challenging week of running that I had had in mind.
The idea of joining the 100 Marathon Club had been peculating for a couple of years. I could not honestly say way. Last year I started to tot up the number of events that I had completed already and begun dropping it into the proforma required of the club. Those training events booked months in advance would be added each weekend, or not if the draw of sleeping in had become to much. When all was said and done, 2016 ended with my tally on forty eight. Two shy of the figure required to join as an associate and woefully short of the hundred required for full membership. Fifty two short to be precise. I had no fixed goals for 2017 at that point, but the glaring gap of those fifty two marathons and the convenient fifty two weeks in the upcoming year gnawed at me. And then the bookings started. An LDWA event here, a small ultra there. Occasional weekends of back to back races as commitments were already in place for some weekends of the year and despite the size of the task, I was keen to keep some freedom to attend other shorter running events which brought me pleasure in the past. Race the Train sharing the top of the list with the Pen-y-Fan fell races (the latter of which will no doubt see me fall down the side of the mountain again as I expect to have even less ability for delicate and nimble footwork). Only some way through these bookings did I realise that the 100 Marathon Club had a requirement for ten of the qualifying events to be classified as road. Now I understand the draw of a road marathon for those looking to challenge themselves to a time, but as someone looking to remain relatively fresh and very much uninjured, the thought was sobering. But through luck rather than judgement, six road marathons were already part of my back catalogue. Some options for those other four were penciled in and a couple eventually booked.
Early in the planning of the races for 2017, I had it in mind to try and wrap up the hundred events with time to spare. I have an idea of running in the club cross-country season and an overlap of the two challenges could be enough to flatten me. It has been the bringing forward of that hundredth marathon that was on my mind during the second half of Charnwood. With a Sunday to relax and recuperate, the following Monday would be the start of three marathons in three days. The idea itself is not terrifying, but without taper and the wish to remain fresh to the point of not requiring too much recovery, the worry about injuries through overuse are real. Mentally, a smooth Charnwood would have been a good sidle into the week. And despite the soul destroying first half, things evened out as they usually do. Miles slid by. The weather moved between cloud and drizzle with enough regularity that you were always cool but never cold enough to reach for the jacket. Gradually the head lifted enough to observe and enjoy the views from some of the peaks in the second half. Runners who had not been seen since leaving the first village started to appear in the near distance only to disappear behind after a few miles. The run was wrapped up in a time that I would have settled for at the start. Other than the odd bramble scratch, I appeared to be absent of injury. And fifteen minutes after finishing I was driving home whilst preparing a theoretical packing list for the following evening.
And so I sit in the YHA bunkhouse in All Stretton with enough running clothes to start a small shop. The first of the three marathons will commence in twelve hours, but it is not the first one that worries me. All three have barely any elevation change and are routed on light trail, a converted train line. The lack of hills would be seen by most as a blessing, and it does mean that they should be wrapped up more quickly, but for me it takes away those easy options of walking, and it means the use of the same muscles for each stride. The risk of injury seems higher here than any any point of the year so far.
And with the next event seven days from today, there really is no time for that.
In retrospect I had not given the event enough due consideration. It was local and relatively inexpensive. Couple this with a lack of competing draws upon my time for the day and it was something of a no-brainer. Another step towards a nebulous goal which was of no relevance in the real world or to anyone in full possession of their senses. Only semi-regular checks of the calendar reminded me that this was upcoming and whilst surrounded by similar events with similar names in similar locations it had not registered meaningfully outside of the convenience of its location and thus how late I would be able to set the alarm, and how soon I could be home once the task was complete. Much to my surprise, somebody had put hills in Leicestershire. Not unreasonably, the organisers of the Charnwood Marathon thought that we should go over them.
The day had started well. I was still in bed at six and awoke naturally before the alarm had a chance to get into its repertoire. A leisurely breakfast of the exact same things I eat before every such event. Even time to choose running kit and pack those vital bits and bobs that make the first hour post-race a more humane experience. The fact that these things were not already sitting in their bag and awaiting collection as I moved between the bed and the event was a sure sign of my lackadaisical planning. Somehow I managed to leave the house later than planned and despite a lack of traffic on the pleasantly short hour journey, I was later that I would have wanted to be on arrival. Even so, the efficient team had me parked one hundred and fifty metres from the race headquarters quickly and with time to spare I had made use of the of the bathroom, amazingly lacking a queue to do the excellent choice of headquarters, something unheard of pre-race of almost any size, and registered with the organisers whilst asking a few questions about the route and checkpoints. I had also overheard two people talking about others who had turned up to the event only to find out it was on trails rather than the roads. How could anyone be so disorganised? In my mind, I worried that they probably did not have the route instructions and were probably set for a rough day. It also served to remind me that I should probably use the remaining ten minutes to find my running shoes and dig my own instructions from the car foot well.
A nine o'clock start by the local crier and we were off jogging down the street of the small town. There were a number of faces in the crowd to whom this would be old hat. People you start to recognise after spending your weekends doing enough of these things. Some you will have spoken to on other days. Some of whom you are vaguely aware have completed enough of these things to number their marathons in the high hundreds. A whispered few even more than that. There were only two who's names were known to me, one due to a period of time running together a fortnight before, and the other being another Northampton runner who I should really spend more time talking to about their plans in this area. I have noted him at nearly a dozen of these days but spoke to him for the first time at a road marathon seven days earlier and even then it was the exchange of pleasantries toward the end of the many, many laps of an airfield near Stratford.
And it was that road marathon that was on my mind during the early miles. For all of the trail marathons and ultras undertaken, it is road marathons that can leave my legs feeling jaded for days and weeks afterward. This year, there simply is not time for that. My legs seemed to be moving relatively smoothly considering the short recovery time from the pounding of tarmac, but I was looking forward to getting to the trails and with them, the excuse to walk whenever I saw fit. The name of the game here is to get around without injury and quickly enough to get home and shower and a few hours of relaxation the mind would turn to the next challenge. Smoothly moving legs was good, but I was a little worried as to how long it would last.
And so it was that I reached the thirteen mile mark. Stepping off the roads to the mud and grass had been good but it had also begun the start of the hills. I was happy to walk these as had been the plan, but the volume of uphill had started to move my thoughts of a jog around five hours fifteen, a reasonable time for a self-navigated jaunt off-road, to a slow slog of six hours which could get worse if those legs did not hold up after the abuse of the previous week. This was not the simple ticking off of another marathon before a more challenging week of running that I had had in mind.
The idea of joining the 100 Marathon Club had been peculating for a couple of years. I could not honestly say way. Last year I started to tot up the number of events that I had completed already and begun dropping it into the proforma required of the club. Those training events booked months in advance would be added each weekend, or not if the draw of sleeping in had become to much. When all was said and done, 2016 ended with my tally on forty eight. Two shy of the figure required to join as an associate and woefully short of the hundred required for full membership. Fifty two short to be precise. I had no fixed goals for 2017 at that point, but the glaring gap of those fifty two marathons and the convenient fifty two weeks in the upcoming year gnawed at me. And then the bookings started. An LDWA event here, a small ultra there. Occasional weekends of back to back races as commitments were already in place for some weekends of the year and despite the size of the task, I was keen to keep some freedom to attend other shorter running events which brought me pleasure in the past. Race the Train sharing the top of the list with the Pen-y-Fan fell races (the latter of which will no doubt see me fall down the side of the mountain again as I expect to have even less ability for delicate and nimble footwork). Only some way through these bookings did I realise that the 100 Marathon Club had a requirement for ten of the qualifying events to be classified as road. Now I understand the draw of a road marathon for those looking to challenge themselves to a time, but as someone looking to remain relatively fresh and very much uninjured, the thought was sobering. But through luck rather than judgement, six road marathons were already part of my back catalogue. Some options for those other four were penciled in and a couple eventually booked.
Early in the planning of the races for 2017, I had it in mind to try and wrap up the hundred events with time to spare. I have an idea of running in the club cross-country season and an overlap of the two challenges could be enough to flatten me. It has been the bringing forward of that hundredth marathon that was on my mind during the second half of Charnwood. With a Sunday to relax and recuperate, the following Monday would be the start of three marathons in three days. The idea itself is not terrifying, but without taper and the wish to remain fresh to the point of not requiring too much recovery, the worry about injuries through overuse are real. Mentally, a smooth Charnwood would have been a good sidle into the week. And despite the soul destroying first half, things evened out as they usually do. Miles slid by. The weather moved between cloud and drizzle with enough regularity that you were always cool but never cold enough to reach for the jacket. Gradually the head lifted enough to observe and enjoy the views from some of the peaks in the second half. Runners who had not been seen since leaving the first village started to appear in the near distance only to disappear behind after a few miles. The run was wrapped up in a time that I would have settled for at the start. Other than the odd bramble scratch, I appeared to be absent of injury. And fifteen minutes after finishing I was driving home whilst preparing a theoretical packing list for the following evening.
And so I sit in the YHA bunkhouse in All Stretton with enough running clothes to start a small shop. The first of the three marathons will commence in twelve hours, but it is not the first one that worries me. All three have barely any elevation change and are routed on light trail, a converted train line. The lack of hills would be seen by most as a blessing, and it does mean that they should be wrapped up more quickly, but for me it takes away those easy options of walking, and it means the use of the same muscles for each stride. The risk of injury seems higher here than any any point of the year so far.
And with the next event seven days from today, there really is no time for that.
Wednesday, 9 March 2016
Golden Fleece Circuit
And finally, an event that I have turned up for and successfully trotted around in 2016. Who would have thought?
For anyone reading this who is unaware, the Golden Fleece Circuit is a mixed terrain event in South Yorkshire. There are 15 and 27 mile options and it is organised by the local Scouts group. If you've ever been to one of these, or an LDWA event, you'll know the deal on the low key nature of the day. You'll also have a feel for how important your ability to navigate a route is if you want to have a good day out there. Generally you'll be provided with a couple of sides of A4 route directions, a basic map, and an expectation that you can look after yourself as an adult and not be a burden on the organisers (or mountain rescue, depending on the event).
As the name suggests, the Golden Fleece Circuit is a looped course which keeps the logistics pretty simple. The small hall that doubles as registration area pre-race, and soup kitchen post-race has enough capacity to store kit bags while you explore the nearby wilds.
For my part, the day went well. From some basic research I knew that the route would be a mixture of paths and tarmac. I was also aware that I wouldn't be standing on top of a moor trying to take a bearing with my rusty navigation skills. A good prospect for the first event in a long while. Still being in recovery from injury, and not wanting to explain a worsened wound to the nurse on the following Tuesday, my execution plan for this was to take it easy throughout. I'd say I was about 80% successful. I'd like to explain more about the route, but like just about every event I've taken part in, most of it was a blur. I can be sure when I say that this is a very runnable route. I think there was one hill that would force you to a walk even if you were looking to race this hard. Of course, that hill was in the last couple of miles because, Race Organisers. The route was relatively easy to follow for one of these types of events. If you're expecting ribbons on every corner, this is not the run for you. I did manage to step off the route for a while due to thoughtlessly following the couple of groups ahead of me, but that is most definitely my fault rather than anything else.
The weather was also a little interesting with all four seasons making an appearance. The drive up from Northampton had been shrouded in drizzle and flurries of snow. This is not a great sign when driving north for an outdoor event but for the majority of my run, the sky stayed on my side. The wide expanse allowed plenty of opportunity to watch the clouds as they rolled in, not that there was much to be done about it when it did arrive. 10 minutes of chilly rain 90 minutes into the race, sun so warm that I would have been happier in shorts and t-shirt during the next hour, and then a little later, driving hail as I travelled along a ridge line. It did finally throw it down with rain in the minutes after I finished. You couldn't help but feel for those still out on the course.
It is a couple of days later now and no particular ill effects seem to have occurred. My calves would feel happier if I'd put in some proper training in the weeks beforehand. I did pick up a head cold which is yet to clear but nothing that is preventing ongoing training, so it would seem that the Edale Skyline on Sunday is still on the cards. At least that is only 21 miles. This was certainly my thinking until I started to read the blogs of people who ran the race in 2015. The thought of running in thigh deep mud was not something that gets my juices flowing at this moment in time.
For reference, I've noticed that some of the events I attend do not have good route files available so I'll be uploading mine. The FIT file is direct from the Fenix 3. The gpx file is the converted version through Garmin connect. For this event, it is definitely worth bearing in mind that I took a bit of a detour 20km in.
Route files
For anyone reading this who is unaware, the Golden Fleece Circuit is a mixed terrain event in South Yorkshire. There are 15 and 27 mile options and it is organised by the local Scouts group. If you've ever been to one of these, or an LDWA event, you'll know the deal on the low key nature of the day. You'll also have a feel for how important your ability to navigate a route is if you want to have a good day out there. Generally you'll be provided with a couple of sides of A4 route directions, a basic map, and an expectation that you can look after yourself as an adult and not be a burden on the organisers (or mountain rescue, depending on the event).
As the name suggests, the Golden Fleece Circuit is a looped course which keeps the logistics pretty simple. The small hall that doubles as registration area pre-race, and soup kitchen post-race has enough capacity to store kit bags while you explore the nearby wilds.
For my part, the day went well. From some basic research I knew that the route would be a mixture of paths and tarmac. I was also aware that I wouldn't be standing on top of a moor trying to take a bearing with my rusty navigation skills. A good prospect for the first event in a long while. Still being in recovery from injury, and not wanting to explain a worsened wound to the nurse on the following Tuesday, my execution plan for this was to take it easy throughout. I'd say I was about 80% successful. I'd like to explain more about the route, but like just about every event I've taken part in, most of it was a blur. I can be sure when I say that this is a very runnable route. I think there was one hill that would force you to a walk even if you were looking to race this hard. Of course, that hill was in the last couple of miles because, Race Organisers. The route was relatively easy to follow for one of these types of events. If you're expecting ribbons on every corner, this is not the run for you. I did manage to step off the route for a while due to thoughtlessly following the couple of groups ahead of me, but that is most definitely my fault rather than anything else.
The weather was also a little interesting with all four seasons making an appearance. The drive up from Northampton had been shrouded in drizzle and flurries of snow. This is not a great sign when driving north for an outdoor event but for the majority of my run, the sky stayed on my side. The wide expanse allowed plenty of opportunity to watch the clouds as they rolled in, not that there was much to be done about it when it did arrive. 10 minutes of chilly rain 90 minutes into the race, sun so warm that I would have been happier in shorts and t-shirt during the next hour, and then a little later, driving hail as I travelled along a ridge line. It did finally throw it down with rain in the minutes after I finished. You couldn't help but feel for those still out on the course.
It is a couple of days later now and no particular ill effects seem to have occurred. My calves would feel happier if I'd put in some proper training in the weeks beforehand. I did pick up a head cold which is yet to clear but nothing that is preventing ongoing training, so it would seem that the Edale Skyline on Sunday is still on the cards. At least that is only 21 miles. This was certainly my thinking until I started to read the blogs of people who ran the race in 2015. The thought of running in thigh deep mud was not something that gets my juices flowing at this moment in time.
For reference, I've noticed that some of the events I attend do not have good route files available so I'll be uploading mine. The FIT file is direct from the Fenix 3. The gpx file is the converted version through Garmin connect. For this event, it is definitely worth bearing in mind that I took a bit of a detour 20km in.
Route files
Wednesday, 2 March 2016
And recovered! Hot Diggity
Well, mainly.
It has now been more than four weeks since the surgery and there is still the dressing on my shoulder, but things are feeling pretty normal. A very helpful and professional nurse now replaces the dressing a couple of times per week, but in myself, I feel pretty good. And this isn't one of those "pretty good all things considered", but simply a "pretty good".
The turn around appears to have been at the weekend. I had planned a trail marathon in Leicestershire but going into Friday a couple of my more sensible friend convinced me that this was not the way. And like that, the Belvoir Challenge slips by for the year (DNS 3). This wasn't the same wrench as the previous DNSs, not being part of a race series and having only been scheduled by me as a training run. However, going through the weekend I became aware of everything feeling pretty much normal. I turned up to parkrun and pottered around that at a moderate pace which quickly reminded me that I have not put in any speedwork for a couple of months, and this was followed up by a very easy trail run on the Sunday.
So, as I step into March, it feels like time to get back to it. In fact, I've decided to use February's leap day as a way of jump starting my faded resolutions. It could be that committing to 50 miles per week is a little on the stupid side when coming back from illness, but I've enough patience to keep most of that mileage at a very low effort. I also have another scheduled race in 17 days and I don't think that toeing the line for a 42 mile race in the Brecon Beacons is a sensible idea unless I've put myself to the test a little beforehand. I've no wish to be a liability for the other racers and the organiser.
This means I'll be at the Golden Fleece this coming weekend, and the Edale Skyline on the following. They're both interesting to bite off in some ways, but both big enough for me to start off very easily, build up to a very easy pace and then near the finish, drop to my very easy effort, without lagging behind the field and requiring panicked acceleration into checkpoints to beat the cut offs. I know little about the course for the Golden Fleece so I'm looking forward to exploring it, and I know more about the Edale area and I am looking forward to those views even more. And I know they're likely to be replaced by driving rain and clag, but what can you do?
2016 apparently starts in March.
It has now been more than four weeks since the surgery and there is still the dressing on my shoulder, but things are feeling pretty normal. A very helpful and professional nurse now replaces the dressing a couple of times per week, but in myself, I feel pretty good. And this isn't one of those "pretty good all things considered", but simply a "pretty good".
The turn around appears to have been at the weekend. I had planned a trail marathon in Leicestershire but going into Friday a couple of my more sensible friend convinced me that this was not the way. And like that, the Belvoir Challenge slips by for the year (DNS 3). This wasn't the same wrench as the previous DNSs, not being part of a race series and having only been scheduled by me as a training run. However, going through the weekend I became aware of everything feeling pretty much normal. I turned up to parkrun and pottered around that at a moderate pace which quickly reminded me that I have not put in any speedwork for a couple of months, and this was followed up by a very easy trail run on the Sunday.
So, as I step into March, it feels like time to get back to it. In fact, I've decided to use February's leap day as a way of jump starting my faded resolutions. It could be that committing to 50 miles per week is a little on the stupid side when coming back from illness, but I've enough patience to keep most of that mileage at a very low effort. I also have another scheduled race in 17 days and I don't think that toeing the line for a 42 mile race in the Brecon Beacons is a sensible idea unless I've put myself to the test a little beforehand. I've no wish to be a liability for the other racers and the organiser.
This means I'll be at the Golden Fleece this coming weekend, and the Edale Skyline on the following. They're both interesting to bite off in some ways, but both big enough for me to start off very easily, build up to a very easy pace and then near the finish, drop to my very easy effort, without lagging behind the field and requiring panicked acceleration into checkpoints to beat the cut offs. I know little about the course for the Golden Fleece so I'm looking forward to exploring it, and I know more about the Edale area and I am looking forward to those views even more. And I know they're likely to be replaced by driving rain and clag, but what can you do?
2016 apparently starts in March.
Friday, 19 February 2016
And still injured, but maybe a little less
It is three weeks since surgery. For the majority of that time not a
step was run. This has obviously not been beneficial to the remaining
race plans for the year, nor my patience.
The injury still requires regular medical attention for which I continue to feel grateful and somewhat guilty. I feel sure that the nurses could spend their time better on more pressing concerns. I am also aware that just this three weeks of layoff has seen some interesting changes in my heart rate. My Resting Heart Rate (RHR) has been low for as long as I have paid any attention to it, but rather than the upper thirties, it now hovers at the bottom of the thirties. After defending the low RHR for a couple of years as a by-product of my awesome fitness, even I was a little worried about seeing the number 30 appear on the screen of a morning.
In the last couple of days, some very short and easy runs have come back. A five miles here and three more there. Interestingly, the RHR on the following morning looks to be a little more normal based on my personal experience. 38 is great, right? In addition, those two runs saw my heart rate spike on a couple of occasions to levels not warranted by the effort that I was putting in. I know that people think that running by heart rate can be limiting, and I agree at a certain level, but I also know where I expect my BPM to sit for a certain level of effort. I can also feel my heart rate move before the watch registers it due to the lag in monitoring. So when the heart rate jumps by 70-80 BPH in a couple of yards and sits there until I stop running altogether, I am pretty sure that this is not normal.
It will be interesting to see this figures settle down over the next couple of weeks, hopefully. It is also interesting to have seen how a few weeks layoff, a few weeks of infection and a couple of weeks of medical remediation has make a mess of the body.
Onwards and upwards.
The injury still requires regular medical attention for which I continue to feel grateful and somewhat guilty. I feel sure that the nurses could spend their time better on more pressing concerns. I am also aware that just this three weeks of layoff has seen some interesting changes in my heart rate. My Resting Heart Rate (RHR) has been low for as long as I have paid any attention to it, but rather than the upper thirties, it now hovers at the bottom of the thirties. After defending the low RHR for a couple of years as a by-product of my awesome fitness, even I was a little worried about seeing the number 30 appear on the screen of a morning.
In the last couple of days, some very short and easy runs have come back. A five miles here and three more there. Interestingly, the RHR on the following morning looks to be a little more normal based on my personal experience. 38 is great, right? In addition, those two runs saw my heart rate spike on a couple of occasions to levels not warranted by the effort that I was putting in. I know that people think that running by heart rate can be limiting, and I agree at a certain level, but I also know where I expect my BPM to sit for a certain level of effort. I can also feel my heart rate move before the watch registers it due to the lag in monitoring. So when the heart rate jumps by 70-80 BPH in a couple of yards and sits there until I stop running altogether, I am pretty sure that this is not normal.
It will be interesting to see this figures settle down over the next couple of weeks, hopefully. It is also interesting to have seen how a few weeks layoff, a few weeks of infection and a couple of weeks of medical remediation has make a mess of the body.
Onwards and upwards.
Thursday, 4 February 2016
Still injured. Bored.
A week since surgery. Things are apparently progressing well but it has been made very clear to me during the daily checks that running will be severely frowned upon. At least for now. I should have probably had that conversation prior to having been for an easy 5k. I'd probably be going in for a better level of self-pity if I hadn't watched The Revnant prior to the operation. Every complaint feels a bit weak in that light.
Still, I did stumble across this short film is my new found spare time. And again, there really is no excuse to not keep moving forward.
https://vimeo.com/152971030
Still, I did stumble across this short film is my new found spare time. And again, there really is no excuse to not keep moving forward.
https://vimeo.com/152971030
Saturday, 30 January 2016
2016 Races 1. 2016 DNSs 2
And what was an infection then became the cause of an unplanned surgery...
The procedure to the shoulder was minor and things could have been a lot worse. Unfortunately, the recovery is going to rule out a 50 mile run in a week's time. It has also put paid to the daily run for the present time.
So, without even leaving Jaunary that is two races I'm manging to DNS and pretty much all of the running "resolutions" I had down the pan. Bother. On the upside, my training in January had been pretty good on the whole and I'm expecting to get a few little runs in during the couple of weeks I need to let the wound heal. With a bit of luck, many of the other racing plans for the year are still doable.
Now, with idle time on my hands, how do I stop myself from sitting here signing up for countless races later in the year?
The procedure to the shoulder was minor and things could have been a lot worse. Unfortunately, the recovery is going to rule out a 50 mile run in a week's time. It has also put paid to the daily run for the present time.
So, without even leaving Jaunary that is two races I'm manging to DNS and pretty much all of the running "resolutions" I had down the pan. Bother. On the upside, my training in January had been pretty good on the whole and I'm expecting to get a few little runs in during the couple of weeks I need to let the wound heal. With a bit of luck, many of the other racing plans for the year are still doable.
Now, with idle time on my hands, how do I stop myself from sitting here signing up for countless races later in the year?
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