Run 1 (24/09/2018)

After the weekend storm Monday started with bright blue skies. I was out walking the pup at 8am in misty fields, the sun evaporating the morning dew, quite spectacular. I managed to get out running just after lunch, the pup going into a post food coma. Walking up to the park in a black t-shirt it was pleasantly warm for the time of year. There were more squirrels than people in the park and with a lack of threats they were all on the ground foraging.

Once around the field field to warm up and inventory where today’s debris is. I’m here to run 3 km, part of me is thinking I should try for 5 after the success of the last run. I finally convince myself to stick to the plan and set off at a slightly quicker pace knowing I’ll get over the idea fairly quickly if I start putting in some sub 8-minute/km laps.

The first lap is 7 min 14 secs, well I know I’m not going to be doing 5 km now, even if I still wanted to. Which lo and behold I don’t, as I start back up the incline, breathing hard already. Amazing what 7 minutes running can do to focus the mind. I perform the reset trick, cool only 2 laps to go, easy.

The second km is slightly slower 7 min 30 secs, I know I’m outside of any PB. Reset. One lap to go and I’ll do the last 100 metres heading home out of the park. This is not a conversational pace and I’m panting all the way round. Finally get to 3 km last lap in 7 min 24 secs, for a total time of 22m 24s, 40 seconds off my PB. Oh well one for another day.

I’m sure this running business is meant to get easier, but at times especially on these quicker runs it honestly doesn’t feel like it. I’m starting to come to the conclusion that the only thing that is changing is the time and distance the feeling of fatigue and effort required to keep going is the same as that first 60 seconds in C25K W1D1. The last km of my last 5k was easier than the last km of this 3k, what a difference a minute per km quicker pace can make. Wednesday is the next run and the target is 5k.

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Run 2 (26/09/2018)

It’s another twilight run, in the most ideal running conditions I’ve ever had. No wind, not too warm, not too cold, perfect Goldilock running conditions. I probably won’t see weather like this again this side of Xmas, so best to make the most of it.

Today’s run is 5k and I’m getting my game face on as I take the usual warm up walk around the park. Looks like the keep fit session is kicking off at 7 judging by the number of people congregating on the green. Other than that a couple of other runners and a bunch of kids on bikes, it’s a fairly standard evening. There’s still quite a bit of debris littering the path but not as bad as last time and strangely not a squirrel in sight.

The first km, I spend the first few hundred metres dialling it back, shorter strides, I’m here for the distance and I always have a tendency to set off to quickly. I realise at the 1 km mark I’ve probably been a little too conservative with a very slow 8 min 41 sec. I should be targeting 8 min.

Onto the 2nd km, I’m still doing my reset mental trick, just got to run 4km. It’s starting to get dark, the fitness club has kicked off, I can see them doing their warm up runs back and forth on the green as I pass at a snails pace. The lap time comes in at 8 min 58 sec, damn that’s really slow. It’s also a first, I usually over compensate in the other direction after a slow lap, I suspect it’s got more to do with the failing light.

3rd km, reset! Cool only 2 laps to go. It really is a silly trick but it seems to work, I think it’s confusing my inner voices and prevents them from building up a head of steam. It’s getting very dark now, my eyes are trying to adapt to the low light conditions. I can’t make out any of the detail on the path anymore, just a vague outline.

That was until I started back down the park and find myself staring into the blinding halogen lights the fitness club have rigged up. It’s blown my tentative night vision, I’m literally running into the light and I can’t see a bloody thing. I just about manage to get around to the 4km mark after a bit of stumbling in a slightly quicker 8 min 33 secs.

Onto the last lap, this is getting insanely difficult, I stumble over something, a branch I think, it could have been a squirrel. I’ll never know. I’ve got Rag’n’Bone Man Human perfectly in sync:

“Maybe I’m foolish

Maybe I’m blind

Thinking I can see through this

And see what’s behind

Got no way to prove it

So maybe I’m blind

But I’m only human after all”

Uncanny, made me laugh and lifted my spirits, once more up the incline, probably, I can only tell by navigating using distant house/street lamps like stars, that and the fact it’s reassuringly harder to run in this direction.

Around the top of the park and it’s back into the closing scene of close encounters again, I honestly cannot see a thing I’m running on pure instinct now. I decide I’m going to have to do this by ear and unhook the headphones in the desperate hope I’ll hear someone before I run flat into them. I finally complete the last km in 8 min 25, ironically the fastest lap and I didn’t even see half of it.

I think it’s my 2nd slowest 5k at 44 min 11 sec, but I don’t care, I’m just amazed I did it in the dark without falling over or punting a fox. I think I’m either going to have to start running earlier in the day or get a headlight. Mind you a headlight wouldn’t have helped with the fitness UFO landing on the green.

I actually lost my bearings completely in the warm down walk, wandered off the path and it took me a good half a minute to relocate it. I honestly expected Richard Dreyfus in a red jump suit to wander past me into the light, all it was missing was a John Williams soundtrack.

The only advantage of running in the dark is it occupies the mind, even my negative voices were lost for critical input, like terrified passengers they were along for the ride. My left knee was aching again in the warm down, not major but still a bit of a concern. The next run is 3km, I think I’ll take it a little easier, but maybe not this easy.

I don’t avidly read about running, just doing it is tough enough but a few extraordinary articles popped up on my radar over the last couple of weeks, that are worth sharing:

I’ve been following with envy and astonishment the weekly running reports from Chelsea’s DancingRunner blog, She appears to have a constitution somewhat similar to a shark in that she seems to need to keep running just to live. It’s a fascinating insight into the hard work that goes on behind the scenes ahead of some of more insane race events.

An ex work colleague posted this article on female trail runners. Madness, 106 miles with an elevation gain of 32’000 ft, that’s practically the cruising height of a commercial jet. Just reading about it gave me a nosebleed.

finally Stephen over at FracturedFaith posted about his latest gruelling marathon experience through terrain that’s so epic it’s the backdrop for Game of Thrones.

What is up with these people? I’m under no illusions about my own running, I suspect I’ll never make the start line, let alone the finish line of a marathon and I can guarantee you I won’t be completing a 100+ mile trek up a mountain a few months after child birth. If I do the headline won’t be about the distance.

My own limitations aside, I find these articles hugely inspirational. I admire anyone who knowingly picks the tougher path, even more so when their motivation is just to see where it leads, to see how far they can go. All the time there are people pushing the envelope of what’s possible it gives me faith that in the long run (pun intended) the human race (not intended) will find a way through the many challenges we face.

More practically these and similar articles provide direct support in my own running by giving me pause for thought and the necessary kick up the arse when I’m bitching about doing the next kilometre.

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Run 3 (30/09/2018)

I should have run last Friday, but it’s been a bit of a mad and busy end to the week. I ran out of hours in the day on Friday. I’d been toying with a cold for the last few days but between copious amounts of fresh air dog walking, pints of orange juice and a mindset of not having time to be ill, I’d seemed to be keeping it at bay. But the exertions of Friday’s long planned ABBA tribute night out with friends, singing myself hoarse in a warm packed room was the last straw. Saturday I was definitely under the weather, not that the pup cared he still wanted his walk.

Sunday after another 5k walk with the pup through glorious sunny autumnal woodland and a touch of breakfast I decided to watch the Russian F1 race. I’m not sure why I bother anymore the outcome was a foregone conclusion, and when it required team orders, it ruined what little enjoyment was left. Crunch time, I can pass out on the couch or get my arse to the park, the park won out, just!

Walking up it was cold, no colder than the previous thew runs but I’m feeling it today. I stupidly decided not to wear my new running jacket thinking it would be warm enough. Normally it would be. My legs feel well recovered after 3 days not running, encouragingly even my left knee is feeling fine. I’m having to clear my chest a few times before kicking off on what should be a quick 3km run.

First km, I’m deliberately running a quicker pace than normal as I’m only out here for 3km. My spirits were raised by the sight of a service dog playing fetch with it’s blind owner. Luckily his helper managed to point his master in the right direction before I got a rubber ring in the face. If that doesn’t put a smile on your face I don’t know what will, nice to see these tireless helpers get some fun time as well. Up the incline and I’m struggling to catch my breath, not surprising the first lap is a silly 6 min 47 secs.

Second lap, I’ve slowed the pace down but I’m not recovering heading to the bottom of the park and by the time I hit the 2km mark at 7 min 11 sec I’m done. I could have done the last km but I would be puffing and panting all the way round, it took me several minutes to recover as it was. It’s another failed run, not because I was under the weather but more about not matching my pace to my capabilities. Not the first time or I suspect last. Ironically enough it’s an Endomondo PB for the “12 minute test” at 1.76 km.

I had to lookup what the 12 minute test or Cooper test was about, turns out it’s used a general measure of fitness (every day’s a school day). I managed to literally scrape into average for my gender/age group, not bad considering there wasn’t a column for how far I would have managed 3 months ago.

I seem to be having more success with dog walking (40km) than running (10 km). I’m also struggling to get 4 runs in a week, it just leaves no wiggle room for the inevitable dramas of life. I was reviewing my progress this week when this article from the theblogrunner popped into my inbox, talk about timing. It raised some interesting points and got me thinking about what am I trying to prove and to whom with my own running?

I started C25K with the broad goal of just getting fitter, and finished being able to run for 30 minutes. It took me a few more weeks to secure my first 5k in 45 minutes. At which point I’d achieved what I set out to prove to myself, that I could get fit and I could run a 5k. So what am I still trying to prove?

Right now I’m trying to prove to myself that I can run 5k consistently, every time I want to. My post C25K run blogs are a testament to inconsistency and I’ve documented the many ways I have failed along with the occasional lessons I’ve learned along the way. For right now my goal as Eminem succinctly says is to “make me do what I put my mind to”. Although I hope that some time in the not too distant future I can find peace with my running and just run, not to prove anything to anyone (including myself), but just to do it for fun without the need to bully and blackmail myself.

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