#@%$!

So, here it is. If I type it quick it might not seem so bad. I've only gone and sort of injured myself. I know. What the flippin' 'eck have I gone and done (I hear you virtually exclaim).

I've been dreaming about this week off for ages. A week full of blissful gentle running. A week of sleeping in, eating long breakfasts, slowly recovering from my 20 miler with gentle joggy ambles along countryside paths, clocking my marathon mileage under blue skies in bright, shining daylight. The 20 on Sunday was a great run; an indication of some good prep despite the awful winter and the short training phase this allowed. The race feedback had set me up nicely, hungry for these final 4 weeks of mileage before the taper. I'd planned just easy running, no 'sessions' at least until this weekend. I was so good I even missed a run on Monday as we travelled back 'up north'.

So on Tuesday, a seemingly innocent happy jog on gentle trail turned into a run from hell. Or perhaps being a grown up I should say that it 'ended badly'. Yes I dramatise but I had that nasty-prickly-ripping-pain feeling of a muscle starting to tear and realised my left hamstring, (which had seemed very happy when we set out), had decided to have a major grumble. I think I've got myself a little muscle tear.

It's not a big one, but enough of a problem to halt any running action. I haven't run for 3 whole days. I've iced and stretched and generally done everything possible. Yesterday was a tester; a jog around the track whilst M did his reps. I managed to squeeze out 4 miles with a slight tug of discomfort. I'm now hopeful that I've avoided the worst but will have to carefully build back some miles with less and less time remaining. I'm so frustrated I could kick myself in the head, if I didn't think I'd risk another tear (probably in my right hamstring). 

So, if this blog serves as anything it illustrates WHAT NOT TO DO when training for marathons. I'm the only one to blame. I'm rubbish at stretching and despite walking about with wooden legs all day Monday I still chose to avoid any time looking after these poor legs from which I demand so much. And I'm not getting any younger, evidenced by my first grey hair which I found on Thursday. Nice.

But things could be worse... 

1. I've still got 6 weeks left to do some running; 
2. I've now properly had a break to recover from the 20M race; 
3. I've had lots of time for other stuff (admittedly slobbing, watching films and moping about with a frowny face);
4. I've not actually broken my leg and had a bit more time for blipping;
5. I managed a little run yesterday. 

I'm sure there's more. Watch this space.

What Lies Beneath

Being all excited at two weeks off and only running/sleeping/slobbing to focus on I think I must've gone and jinxed myself. After a fine session at the track on Tuesday I was feeling very frisky indeed and ready for some serious training this week. All was going good, including the guilty pleasure of an afternoon trip to the cinema on Wednesday afternoon. I think the stop off at Ikea afterwards was the killer blow; the sofa bed purchase just finished me off. Shopping during holidays is really not good for you.

I've since spent the rest of this first holiday week in bed with some kind of sicky flu. Activities have included sleeping or shivering with some time slumped on the bathroom floor staring at the toilet bowl. I've literally done nothing else (except gawp at the telly, including the bonus showing of Close Encounters last night. A very sentimental weep-under-the-duvet kind of film). I now feel like a major space cadet and look all bambi-like trying to get up and down the stairs. I'm over the worst of  the lurgy now I think. I'm hoping the wussy wobbles will pass in time for me to get to the track again on Tuesday. I'm going insane with a duvet overdose; I need to breath some proper fresh air and see some sky. Poor M, he's had a dull week. 

On the bright side, local running mates will have noted some fantastically fast 10K times logged today at the Abbey Dash. Well done to all, including fellow blogger Tony over at Chasing Pavements. A brilliant run.

Big News

Another training week starts after another long run in the bag;  survived without incident or injury. I'm building slowly but steadily, keeping an eye on quality and not being carried away with quantity. This weekend saw a return to some pretty tough stuff; a steady and undulating 16 miles the day after a taxing session at the track. The legs are tired and creaky today, but in a good, post-hard-sesh kind of way.

It's the start of holidays for M & I too, with some time to catch up with ourselves. So plans are to blog a bit, slob a bit and spend some time watching films we've recorded for rainy days with cats on our laps, sitting in pajamas until teatime if we feel like it. Today was a recovery day, a lazy 5 miles in the late sunshine. The village was dappled in wintry light, I apparently missed the foul play.

Pain Relief

So. I might have been getting a bit ahead of myself  there in supposing old leggy was on the mend. A longish run or two later and it's been very sore again since Saturday. I was even reduced to limping along the train platform again on Monday morning. So, Not Good. I've felt pretty miserable and sorry for myself these last three days; even the  bottom lip has developed scuff marks from all the dragging along the floor.

First thing Monday morning I booked myself a trip to the physio. M's prods at the sore bit of my calf on Sunday told me that it wasn't going to be pleasant. Thankfully this time I'd remembered to take a  pair of balled socks to bite my way through the agony. I presented myself complete with my left leggy promptly at 2pm for a proper shake down.  I was quite a brave soldier, accompanied unexpectedly by Coach Scobie who artfully mopped my brow. The treatment lasted over an hour and involved a whole range of prods and yanks, twists and contortions and searing, eye watering pain. However, after enduring the longest hour of my life  (could childbirth be this bad?!) it was pretty good news. 

The sore bits that I'd feared were giant balls of scrambled calf muscle  were actually just points of nerve inflammation. I have a 'neural problem' and it seems to have been put right. The relief from the treatment was immense; they work magic those physios. I was reminded yet again of the stupidity in waiting so long to see someone; I'd have saved two weeks of fretting and worrying if I'd just gone there in the first place. You now have permission to tell me I'm as daft as a brush. It's now lots of balancing exercise, neuro stretches and regular drills with training back to normal within the week.

Friday Feeling

Day 4, 23.59pm. After four days of doing no running at all, ZERO MILES I thought I'd give the leg a chance to redeem itself and bimble around a small field at a snail's pace behind M. We ventured out onto the grass for a soft and flat nursery run tonight to see what would happen. My left leg didn't fall off. It didn't get any worse either. It was a bit sore but seemed to ease a bit after a mile or so. I'm feeling a bit optimistic that I might manage another outing this weekend and clock more than the 4.5 miles total so far for this week. We will see what tomorrow brings. I'm now becoming a wise old tree with all these mistakes to learn from.

Strain Pain

Day 2. 19.16 pm. I've spent a second day dragging my left leg around behind me as I tried to climb the work stairs or hurry to avoid being squashed whilst crossing the road. A rather sore and achey spot on my left calf has now evolved into a deep, hard and very sore lump. M's just worked a bit of massage magic on me but there's a residual lump of pure pain that's not just tightness but more likely to be a tear. $@#%! I'm RICE'ing as I type.

It could be just a day or two of rest and I'm hoping I can get back to some gambolling about by the weekend though I'll have to monitor the lump closely. It's really flippin' painful and I'm so annoyed with myself now for racing last Saturday. It's Burnsall this week for $@#%'s sake! I knew it was risky, so why did I do it!? 

Runners; they never flippin' learn.

Longing

After rather a lot of running up and down hills last week I've only gone and done myself a mischief. The cheeky short race on Saturday was followed by a bit of a stiff left calf on Sunday. Being the responsive, sensible runner I am ;) I scaled down my long run plans on Sunday to a 12 miler; a rather monotonous but safe route near home, run at a very pedestrian pace. Anyways, despite my efforts to be good I've set off tonight for a pleasing jaunt around Bolton Abbey with M to find  that my leg won't work. It seems to have decided to go on strike and I've a funny sensation that's lingering even after I've warmed up; a bit of an escalation from yesterday.

So, tonight I was a bit of a sad and lonely onlooker as M trotted off along the river whilst I looked longingly on, with rather sad puppy dog eyes. I turned reluctantly back to the car, limping dramatically and feeling rather sorry for my theatrical old self. Poor me. All pinkies crossed I can massage it back to do the business at Burnsall this weekend.

Buzzy Fun

As the days go by and the training starts to take shape I'm increasingly returning to my old self; that training buzz is returning. After watching M run a fine race on Sat I was inspired to return for the ladies record next year. I set it myself whilst adding half a mile to the course following a wrong turn at the finish. It's been on my mind...

Sunday was a steady 15; my first longish run in weeks that hasn't ended in near collapse. So signs are good that my health is back on track and the Runningbear warrior strength is returning. Time to plan some races.

Last night saw a return to canal towpath training; a medium run of 10 miles interspersed with some efforts; 5 x 3mins to be exact. I was tired but in that satisfying, working hard kind of way that leaves you with a residual buzz and ready for the next session.

I'm being good, avoiding leaps in mileage for now and just trying to regain some strength and confidence. First test is my first track race next Tuesday, a 3k at Trafford track. I'm excited and scared all at once. A track race, moi?!

We English

Today has felt like a proper bank holiday; the sunny-ice-lolly-laying-in-the-cool-green-grass kind of day. A fine and breezy morning run out to Bolton Abbey this morning included much dodging of backpackers, bank holiday picnickers and dogs with big sticks. All were out for a very English day out. M and I often pinch ourselves in case we forget how lucky we are to live with this gorgeous place on the doorstep. We can enjoy this summer playground whenever we want and it really is the perfect destination for a bank holiday day out.

Simon Roberts: Bolton Abbey, Skipton, North Yorkshire, 27th July 2008
 

Today I ran immersed in the holiday feeling; threading my way around pushchairs, walkers teetering under overstuffed packs and sometimes dodging rogue footballs. The path snaked alongside the riverside, winding along the banks of the glistening Wharfe,  its pebbly shores spotted with paddling dogs and toddling children.

Fine bank holiday scenes emerged around each twist in the path and transported me to the amazing stills of Simon Roberts (above). Fellow photography lovers may know his work well but one collection in particular (We English) leaves me inspired and transported. They're definitely worth a look here.

To top off a fine day I came across my favourite lolly variety this afternoon; the Nobbly Bobbly! Could things really be any more perfect...?

Blogging Blues

This is the longest holiday I've ever had from blogging. So much so that I've had several very sweet and thoughtful emails of concern. Thank you to those of you who wrote; I'm really rather touched. The truth is I couldn't bring myself to inflict on the virtual world my daily whining about running too slowly, putting on weight and the painful indecision about marathon racing. Anyway, I thought it was time to resurface. I can at least report that I'm alive and well, sort of.

I've been duly immersing myself in work these last couple of weeks, mostly to block out the ongoing saga that is my marathon decision. After witnessing another fine PB effort from M on May Day I resolved to stop being so soft and get stuck into training again last week. I've been easing down a fair bit on mileage to give myself a proper recovery from that tenacious cold virus and named Sunday as my decision day. I planned a longish run to provide the final measure I needed. A last opportunity to gauge fitness. Unfortunately, it didn't go terribly well.

M had planned a fine and picturesque route to do together. Starting from Threshfield, a river hugging route took us through to Kettlewell with a return route back via Grassington. The day was lovely and sunny; plenty of splendid views of fine rolling hills and flourishing greenery all around. I was feeling rather chipper as I clipped along at a good pace, wondering why I'd been making such a fuss. However mile 10 came and the wheels started to fall off.

It's strange but I seem currently unable to run beyond 10 miles without some kind of funny wobbly attack. It happened pretty much the same way the previous week and had been the main root of my marathon worries. This time it was my last long run before the official 'taper' and there still remains no clear reason for it. A visit to the doc is planned to rule out any obvious causes.

Anyways, I've come at last to the decision to pull out from the marathon. It's been a funny few days coming to terms with the decision, especially after so much effort and energy has been focused on me doing the flippin' thing this spring. I'm now 'taking stock', having a break and running when I feel like it. I need a bit of a break. On the bright side, I've got loads of work done these last two weeks and am on top of the game in my new job.

This marathon business is tough to prepare for, particularly if you have obsessive tendencies and tend to overdo anything you put your mind to. M laughs that I just can't seem to help doing too much of everything, too much work, too much training, too much cake. I'm really not one for half measures or moderation. I'm disappointed I won’t make it this time but am also keen to get it right when I do. A reschedule is planned with an eye on something else soon. For now, a bit of enforced running fun, a return to some low key racing and then I'll most definitely be back.

Wrestling Recovery

18.04pm: Am sat here on the train platform waiting for delayed trains, trying to get home after another long day. Though it's a bit of a pain there's some warm evening sunshine and I've an unexpected blogging window... I've been avoiding blogging this last day or two.

Though I'm keen to keep it real as I mutter on about my running adventures, I'm also mindful of the dangers of sounding like a moanywingebag and the need to avoid harping on about my 'troubles' when I'm lucky to have a fully functioning pair of legs and a beating heart in my chest...

However, Runningbear is going through  slightly troubled training times. It seems a bit dishonest to pretend otherwise. After shaking off the lurgy to race in Edinburgh last week I've spent the last week trying to recover and also make sense of the strange empty legs thing on race day. Thursday then brought the start of more lurgy; another sore throat and I'm again filled with a second bout of the stuff! What's going on?!

I've bided my time until Sunday to run anything near a proper session. My last possible chance of a long run; I attempted a 20 at a fairly moderate pace. I was dead by mile 10.

I'm a bit stuck with what to do next and can only assume illness and hard training have combined to bring  this body near complete depletion. I'm properly running on empty!

I'm now taking stock and thinking of my recovery, training and even the racing plan. A May marathon is also under review. A difficult decision to ponder and it feels more like a wrestle right now.

Though I've done lots of work so far to build a good marathon foundation I'm most of all keen to get healthy and feel good whilst running and racing again.  So a week to review, wrestle with  my thoughts whilst I recover and recharge. That's THE NEW PLAN.

Training Aid

The stark reminder on Sunday of my just too tired legs and the building up of fatigue has forced a bit of an ease down these last few days. Plenty of smell the roses type running, skipping through trail and woodland has revived the running soul and given M & I some quality time running together for a change. No hard sessions allowed until the weekend at least and instead some time to reflect on training so far, my next steps and possible aids to be integrated into future training.

A particular discovery, introduced by M's sis this week has proved to be a vital tool for inclusion in any true athlete's regime. I would even go so far as to suggest this is a true innovation in the development of modern sports' science and destined to be a permanent fixture in any elite programme of training. I'm referring to the waffle iron readers. Yes, the Waffle Iron. I've just received a very early b'day pressie through the post and have trialled the contraption tonight. Yes those golden, grid-shaped slices of gastronomic gorgeousness have proved to be just the therapeutic intervention I needed and may well turn things around. Of course, like any new regime one shouldn't be hasty to adopt new practices all at once. I've started with one or two waffles as an introduction to the regime. I'll build up steadily from there. Ah waffles, the fuel of champions.

Almost Lurgy Free

Work is hotting up and I'm really getting my teeth into things. I'd go as far as to say I'm really liking the new job. I must remind myself of this post next time I moan. Unfortunately, the hotting up also includes much increased general busyness, including too little time for blogging or ruminating on all things running. Another upside is that the lurgy is passing and the nostrils are recovering from the constant blowing and sandpaper-like scratchy soreness from excessive nose wiping. I'm on the mend readers. Yay.

This week's been tough still despite the sniffles, including a long and windy 15 miles with threshold sandwich on Tuesday and then double runs both these last two days. Nothing too tough planned now until Sunday. A massage tomorrow should see me good as new and ready to run hard again on Sunday, this time for the Edinburgh half marathon. I'm ashamed to say this will be first trip across the border and very excited I am too. I might check out the legend of the deep fried Mars, to fully immerse myself in the culture you understand.

Sunshine Smiles

It’s been a bit of a funny week overall. With a visiting lurgy and considerable sleep deprivation whilst visiting the Big Smoke, I've just not been feeling my usual self. The running has felt too much like hard work and I've gone off it all a bit. After my hardish run on Tuesday I've been less than hungry to get out and about, despite the mild weather and some time off work. I've not really shirked on the training but just feel less than chirpy and generally had to work to motivate myself to get the trainers on. This is quite unheard of for me.

I'm not really sure what's going on but am told that feeling a bit overcooked and stale during marathon training can be a common experience. I'm putting it down to a general washed-out-lurgified-feeling and that the bounce will soon be back. The Runningbear mojo tried to make an appearance at the Leeds Parkrun this morning; a 5k time trial with a 9am start. Feeling less than excited about some track intervals on my lonesome last night I opted to join M and running mate Tricky for a brisk 5k time trial this morning instead. It sort of counts as an equivalent session.

The boys had another blistering run, both hitting great 5k PBs on what is a pretty slow course. I forgot to mention the spectacular run from Spen AC's Kevin O, he ran a blistering run leading the field from the start to finish comfortably under 17 mins. Results here. There was definitely nothing wrong with the boys' mojo and recent race progress would suggest M is gonna have a flyer next weekend at the Chris Hoy Edinburgh Half Marathon. A PB in lightning time is expected. As for me, I'm hanging in there and hoping the funny feelings will pass. The sun is bringing a smile to my face today at least and the lurgy is receding. All will come good in the end.

Ducky Couples

I've been enjoying a few very pleasant easy days after feeling so pooped this last week. The race on Sunday left my legs squeezed dry of bounce so training has been much more relaxed. The last three days have featured some nice 'n' easy trail jaunts in the main, taking advantage of the daylight. The extra hour's window at the end of the day transforms training possibilities with countless trail runs on our doorstep. The break from the road training is music to the legs and running soul too. Whilst enjoying these 'smell the roses' type runs I've been looking for the signs of spring, the vistas here still look wintery with very few signs of budding new growth. The abundance of lambs fizzing around the fields and countless ducky couples waddling around the village is confirmation enough that mother nature is still on track. The weather on the other hand has other ideas. Looking forward to my first coached track session tomorrow night and then a lovely long weekend, full of spring running and Easter bunnies. Chocolate ones that is.

Train Tales

Just thought I'd grab a 'window of opportunity' and blog about how tired I am! After the highs of track sessions and 24 at the weekend I then pressed on to run a brisk 10 on Monday too. Am I daft or what. (Don't answer that).

It caught up with me on Tuesday; 600m reps never felt so 'ard. I was a pathetic and tired mush by the end. So, learning from this I'm gonna be little miss sensible for a bit and do only fun and easy stuff, including a nice 'n' easy off road jaunt tomorrow. Hand slap for me for getting carried away again... It's just so easy to forget though.

24

No, I'm not blogging about any action packed TV series. That was exactly how long my long run was today; I ran 24 miles! (Yes, I'm showing off). I felt steady and strong for the most part but pretty pooped by the end as yesterday's intervals were still lingering in the old legs. The route took in 11 miles of fairly muddy towpath and then the hellish Hollins hill climb yet again. I was encouragingly a tad quicker than last time too with an average of 6.50 minute miles for the whole run, slowing a bit in the final 8 running into the usual brutish headwind that always seems to lay in wait on the home straight.

I felt pretty spent but in a good and buzzy way and after a tough training week I'm feeling the strength of this marathon training malarkey. Another hefty week of mileage is planned but with a slight ease down for Friday and Saturday to give me some reprieve before the Wilmslow English Half Marathon Champs race this Sunday. Though I've been fantasising about a medal the half marathon will strictly be a 'training race' so little chance of bringing any shiny stuff home. I'll still want to run hard and fast but these heavy legs will no doubt struggle; some mental gymnastics will therefore need to be done before race day so I don't give myself too hard a time. For now though it's time for pasta and pudding and the all important task of refuelling and recovery.

Noodled

The week off work has turned into something of an overeating haze. After the Ritzy tea and then a very long race I seem to have done nothing but feed and sleep and go out for the odd run. Monday's easy 5 miles was a restful post race effort as was Tuesday, with a long and easy trail run to ease the sore ITB and give the body time to recover. Today has been my first quality session after the 20 miler on Sunday and what a tough effort it proved to be.

A steady 15 miles was the planned return to a proper session and with it a few threshold miles thrown in. The plan was 6 miles at tempo pace with a rider that I'd ease off if it felt too much. I took the usual lollipop route from home and clipped along with much improved quads and at a healthy steady pace. My first couple of threshold miles felt taxing but manageable; a good pace despite the wind picking up along the route. The turn back to Ilkley saw me hit high winds for the next couple of miles and by tempo mile 4 I was spent! The legs turned to noodle and it took most of my energy to run in a straight line into the wind. I finished the final miles at steady pace, a bit disappointed not to have completed the 6 but reassuring myself of the need to be sensible. The run clocked a 6.38 average so not bad despite the race fatigue. The weekend has more in store including intervals and a long run so best not to overdo things today. Tonight, more fuel; a long awaited curry with running mates.

8.28 From Keighley

The old legs seem to have survived the sunny 23 without too much grumbling. I'm left wondering how they'll feel racing 20 on Sunday so the plan is to ease down a bit after my medium long one this Wednesday.

I've run a steady 5 early this morning, mostly to clear out any debris and unpleasant gubbins from the muscles (technical term there). This might just smooth the way for a good track workout tonight; a tempo sandwich with some 400 reps for the filling. All pinkies crossed these old legs feel up to the business.

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Frosty Friday

Thank crunchie it's Friday. My sleep deprived and increasingly haggard body will be grateful for a proper sleep and some chill out time this weekend. I managed to drag myself around the Big Dipper route last night, partly for some company with M on his long run. The hilly 8 wasn't my best decision, particularly on an 'easy' day. So, it's a proper easy night tonight with a short jog before a night out in Leeds and our first gig in months, a belated B'day treat for M. No booze allowed though as we'll be time trialing early doors. Yikes.
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