Countdown

On Saturday it will be only 10 weeks to go to the Jungfrau Marathon. That's quite scary considering I started training for this last October, about 35 weeks ago. Apart from 6 weeks out for my calf strain I've been pounding the roads and tracks for 954km (600 miles) over 89 hours on 105 runs.

After my little trot around the lanes on Sunday I'm feeling quite happy with where I am with my training. My plan to get the basics right seems to be working. I've done a lot of reading and tried a few things that seem to work so I've now got a good platform to really get to work on. My basic approach from here on in is more speed, more strength and less weight. Not totally sure how I'm going to do that but at least it's a plan. More reading required.

I'm not convinced by these pre-marathon training schedules that they publish in the running magazines. I've always said that if I followed their schedule for a 4hr marathon I'd do it in 3hrs. I don't know who their target audience is but the mileage they put in these schedules seems a bit excessive. I can't see me ever getting to a 70+ miles per week routine just because of the time it would take.

My recovery from Sunday's run is nothing short of amazing. I didn't even get the tiniest cramp which is highly unusual for me. After a long hard run my feet cramp up and my calves are normally exploding with a million micro cramps. They normally look like a sack full of mice but not this time. That'll be the salt working its magic. My legs ache when I get up from sitting down but once I'm moving I forget about them. I thought I'd be hobbling for days. I might even go for a run tomorrow.

Energywise I feel fine, even though I couldn't face a meal directly afterwards (Tip: replenish your glycogen reserves by eating lots of carbs with a little protein ideally within 20 minutes of finishing your run and definitely within 1 hour. Your body is far more receptive to carbo loading during this period. This is a must for multiday events or heavy training schedules and recovery generally.) The lost red blood cells don't seem to have had much effect (hopefully).

Just booked our accomodation for the weekend of the marathon. We've got an apartment in a new swiss chalet up in Wengen. It'll mean an early start for me on the day of the event but I'll probably not be sleeping anyway. The picture at the top is the Lauterbrunnen valley from Wengen. How completely fantastic does that look? We run up the valley then back again before climbing up to Wengen and beyond. Bet you're all jealous.

10, 9, 8, 7........

Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner

Well, I've finally gone and done it. Today I ran at least 27 miles, unsupported. I did the decent thing and went over the Chilterns when I could quite easily have chosen a route on the flatlands to the north of us. So, attired in waterproof jacket and carrying my supplies in my camelbak rucksac I set off in the rain.

The rucksac felt like it weighed a lot more than the 4-5 pounds than it did but it was necessary to my success. As well as the 1.5 litres of isotonic drink (half fresh fruit juice, half water and a pinch of salt) I had three banana, honey and maple syrup sandwiches and a banana for energy replenishment. The cool and wet weather allowed me to get away with just 1.5 litres. If it had been sunny I'd have had to take 2 litres at least. I also had my glasses and contact lens case and emergency clothing (thin thermal vest, winter buff and gloves) and phone in case I came a cropper part way round. Once I got going I didn't notice it and it all adds to the training effort.

The first six miles were rolling and went nice and easy then it was up onto the top via a rather dodgy road that had me trapped in a tight gully at one point. I had to pin myself to the side of the gully to avoid being roadkill. Once on the top the next few miles were fairly flat (and traffic free) till my halfway point which I went through in 1:44. It was here that I caught up with the only other runner I saw all day. I caught her (20ish decked out in all the gear) going downhill and as I passed her my suspicions about her gear fetish were proven when she said "Kayanos. Good shoes!" She then caught me going uphill (story of my life). We had a quick chat before she turned off. She's training for the Dublin Marathon in October.

By this time the rain had eased so I stopped to take of my waterproof and get one of my fantastic sandwiches. They were nice and soggy and went down a treat unlike some of the commercial energy bars that take more energy to eat than they contain. The idea behind my sandwiches is to release energy over a long period. The honey and maple syrup give an immediate boost being largely sugars. The banana takes a bit longer followed by the carbs in the wholemeal bread. It certainly seemed to work for me.

The route got a lot hillier in the second half (sounds familiar), at least by Chilterns standards. The waterproofs came out again when I ran through a downpour and then off again when the sun came out for the last couple of miles.

The 'wall' didn't appear, probably because I was going at tourist pace but also because I'd made sure to keep up my fluid and energy intake. It seemed to work as I didn't feel tired at any point although my lower legs did ache towards the end. I judged the fluids perfectly as I used up the last mouthful when I reached home. I then went on the treadmill to walk for 5 mins to cool down and help keep me loose.

So here I sit, surprised that I can still walk and to be honest suprised at how easy it was, which I put down to my nutrition during the run. I've always known that I could run the distance but now I've actually done it. I'm fairly happy with the time as well considering the circumstances (not racing, self supporting, no cheering crowds etc). This is all to be confirmed (when I drive part of the route to check the distance) but according to my Polar speed pod I went through the magical 42 km in 3:32 and finally reached home after another 2.5 km.

And now for the finale! (Turn away if you're squeamish.) My pee is red! Blood, you're thinking and so was I when I saw it. I was especially worried as I'm carrying a defunct kidney. A few years ago I had a problem with my kidney which proved to only have 25% function. So, they operated on it and now it's got 0% function. "We can take it out for you" they said by way of an apology. "Keep your bloody hands off" I said. When I saw the red urine I was a tad concerned that something had happened to it. Anyway, because of the kidney op we have some wee sticks that test for blood (amongst other things) left over and according to them there's no trace of blood. Here's my theory of what it is: foot strike haemolysis. I only came across this recently but apparently constant pounding on hard surfaces (e.g. road running) will actually smash red blood cells to pieces. This is then filtered out by the kidneys and passed out in urine. I can only assume that the fact that the blood cells (or haemoglobin) are in pieces means that it doesn't react on the wee stick. Just in case you're worried, it's no longer red, just the dark yellow it normally is when I'm dehydrated. Well I did warn you to turn away.

So, all in all it was worth getting up this morning. I've cracked the distance now I need to crack the hills and the speed. Should be able to do something about that over the next couple of months. Just need to get my red blood cells back first!

Ooops, nearly forgot. I nipped into Tesco's this morning to get my bananas and fruit juice and as I was driving out two little piglets dashed out of the farm opposite paying scant regard to the highway code and ran off up the road towards the hills. Thought I might see them later but I didn't. Bet you were wondering what the picture was about.

Pedal Power

Sunday: A quick puncture repair and I'm off. A quick dash back to the house for my forgotten drink bottles and I'm off again. Spent the next three hours going up and down the Chiltern Hills like a yo-yo. I don't know who named the hills around here but they had some imagination as well as a sense of humour (remember The Crong, The Twist and The Hale from a previous post?). After Cobblershill came Hotley Bottom (great place to go after a curry?) later followed by Kop Hill amongst others.

I'd expected to get the usual cycling muscle ache not having been on the bike in ages but it didn't happen. I reckon there must be some truth in hill running using the same muscles as cycling as I also found the hills fairly easy. At least I didn't get out of the saddle once and didn't have to resort to the granny chain ring. Not bad on a squidgy mountain bike. As a long term roadie brought up on the mantra of short wheelbases and rigid frames it gripes a bit riding a bendy springy mountain bike. All that energy going into squashing springs and dampers. Suppose it doesn't matter if I'm not looking for a fast time. It felt good to be back on the bike.

The achilles felt sore during the ride but doesn't seem to have suffered for it. On Monday night I took the dog and my achilles for a test run. Did half an hour off-road, fairly flat and it felt fine. Not sure what's going on with the achilles. I can still feel it but it doesn't seem to suffer from running. Just have to keep an eye on it I suppose.

Off to bed. G'night.

Ramping it Up

Further to my previous post about gradients I decided to try a little experiment on the treadmill. So after a warm up I did 3 miles at 5mph on a 10% incline. It felt very comfortable to start with. My heart rate was 123 bpm once I'd settled in but it slowly but surely trended upwards over the three miles finishing at 135. At that rate I'd have been struggling after another mile as my rate approached 140. I'm fairly happy with that as it gives me something to work with over the next couple of months.

What I'm not so happy with is that I've got a slight niggle in my right achilles tendon. I can't feel it when I'm running but I can when walking. I once lost a whole years running when I tore that achilles. I don't suppose it helped that I tore it at the begining of a run, finished the run then three days later did a two-day mountain marathon on it. It was a team event so I couldn't let my partner down at the last minute. Not the best treatment though. So, I'd fancied trying a full marathon length training run today but am not going to risk it. I'm off out on the bike now instead.

On yer bike!

Plan of Attack

Just thought I'd lay down my thinking about how to tackle the Jungfrau. Having done endurance stuff since I was a kid I have no concerns about the distance but there is a risk of sheer exhaustion (bonk, cramp, dehydration) if I don't tackle the second half properly.

Unlike most hill races the Jungfrau is literally a race of two halves. The first is like a bog standard half marathon with only 300+ m of ascent. In the second half 'the only way is up baby!' with 1300+ m of ascent on tracks and morraine. I'm tempted to try and arrange a shoe swap at the halfway stage: Kayanos followed by XA Pros. Looking at the photos from last years event there seems to be a lot of road shoes being worn on the morraine.

I found an account of the Jungfrau in which the author had analysed the times of previous runners and compared them with their 'normal' marathon times. It seems that the price to pay for the ascent is a 47% increase in time. As I'd fancy my chances at a sub three hour marathon (assuming I actually trained) I'm setting my target at sub 4:30.

So, the plan is a steady 1:40 for the first half leaving me fresh (I wish) for the second half. This will leave me with 2:50 for the second half which means a better than 4 miles per hour pace. I've finally gotten round to calculating the average gradient for the second half. Seems I've been overdoing it by training at 15% incline as 6000 ft of ascent over 13 miles gives an average gradient of 8.74%. So, I'll now, thankfully, be training at 10%. I was getting worried over the 15% regime as I struggled to keep up 5mph for a mile. Hopefully, 10% will be a lot more doable. As it happens I did some treadmill intervals on Tuesday of 7mph at 10%. My heart rate was 143 bpm which means it's not (yet) sustainable for me but there's still time to work on it. So, 5mph for the second half should do it. Easy peasy.

Just need to shed a few superfluous pounds now. Sorry Rosie but the love handles have to go ;-)

Fartlek, Films and Nostalgia

Saturday morning was spent with Phoebe dog doing fartlek in Tring Park. (If you think fartlek is a condition due to eating too many German sausages then I recommend you google it). Poor old Phoebe didn't know if she was coming or going. Had great fun.

I was up in the motherland (Northern England) for the rest of the weekend. On Saturday Rosie and I visited eldest daughter Vicky in Nottingham to see her graduation exhibition. She has just finished her degree in Design for TV and Film and they all had a display of their work. Vicky has worked like a Trojan on her projects and produced some stunning work as well as getting the most work placements including working on 'Recovery' starring David Tennant (aka Dr Who) and on 'Hyperdrive' starring Nick Frost (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz). There are others on her course with more natural drawing skills but it takes more than good drawings to be a good designer. It's going to be difficult to break into the insular TV and film industry but if anybody deserves it Vicky does. Good luck my darling.

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We spent Saturday night in Doncaster at Rosie's mum's. She's currently in the middle of a course of chemotheraphy. She's been battling with non-Hodgkins Lymphoma all through the period we were struggling with Tony. Let 's hope the chemo works.

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This morning I ran from Rosie's mum's to my mam's (note the shift from middle to working class there) which is 10 miles as it turned out. (1h 9 mins if you're interested). They live on opposite sides of Doncaster so I thought I'd have to run through Doncaster until I found out that yet another road closure (see previous post) meant I could use a traffic free back road instead. It turned out to be a real nostalgia trip. I went past Thorpe Marsh power station, the destination of my first 'proper' bike ride (all 8 miles of it) when I was only 6 or 7 years old. My little legs must have spun like bees wings to keep up with my dad. I remember being mesmerised by the enormous cooling towers.
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I then took a small detour through Kirk Sandall to see the first house Rosie and I bought. (We were looking at Minis the other day. They cost more than our first house did.) It hadn't changed much since we left it for the last time, at 1 o'clock in the morning on 15th April 1985: the day Vicky was born. Vicky was three weeks late in being born and decided to arrive on the day we were to move house. Poor old Rosie left in labour in the middle of the night and never went back (neither did I for that matter). Rosie's dad saw to the removals. The birth was horrific but that's another story. Suffice to say she finally arrived weighing in at 9lb 8oz and 22 years later she's finishing her degree in Nottingham.
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Just round the corner from our old house I then ran past the house that Dave Harcombe (see previous post) used to live in back in our school days. A mile or so later I ran down the bridle path that I first ran down in our school cross country a staggering 38 years ago (very scary being able to say something like that). I'd be very interested to know how fast I ran it back then. The bridle path joins the two villages of Edenthorpe (where I used to go to the youth club where I was first exposed to Northern Soul) and Armthorpe where I grew up. As you approach Armthorpe there's the only conker (horse chestnut) tree for miles. It was still there, looking just the same as 30 years ago which is a miracle considering it gets battered to death each conker season by the youth of two villages trying to bring the conkers down.

The bridle path becomes Mere Lane as it enters Armthorpe. All of my schools from being 5 to 17 are in Mere Lane. I ran past my first class room where in 1963 I joined my first class with teacher Miss Darby complete with Dusty Spingfield hairdo and horn rimmed glasses. Behind the infants is the junior school where I was once chased across the school field by a herd of bullocks that had broken through the fence. I'd been to bottom of the field to get twigs to make model wigwams. I screamed my way across the field hearing the stampeding bullocks behind me while the whole school watched me through the windows. Hhheeeeeelllllppppp!!!!

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Good old Mere Lane Stores is still there. Memories of sherbet flying saucers and liquorice twigs. The chipshop where fish and chips used to cost 9d (about 4p in 'new' money) is now a chinese takeaway.

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I ran across the crossroads by the police station where my dad was knocked off his bike by a milk float of all things breaking his collar bone, then past the high school where a uncanny number of teachers had names relating to their subjects. We really did have a music teacher called Mr Tune, an English teacher called Mr Shakespear and a geography teacher called Mr Ireland to name a few.

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Out onto Church Street I passed the graveyard where my dad's mother's parents are buried along side their daughter Peggy who died of a brain tumour aged 13 years. Behind the church was the coal mine where I spent a couple of years underground, training to be a mechanical engineer. It's now a housing estate thanks to Maggie T.
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Round the corner to my mother's house on Barton Lane. Barton is, coincidently, the surname of Vicky's young man Tom. A fine young man (especially if he's reading this. Hi Tom). They met at the wrap party for Hyperdrive. That's them in the top photo. If you missed the first series of Hyperdrive then catch the second out this autumn. It's like a cross between the Royal Navy and Red Dwarf.

In the afternoon we called in to see Tony's wife Max and the kids. Young Marcus who was born in the middle of Tony's illness has shot up into a lovely cheerful little toddler (who keeps walking into the camera when you're trying to take his picture) and Eve is now a very chatty young lady and jigsaw expert. Lovely kids and a tribute to Tony and Max.

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A good weekend by any standard.

Alles ist gut

The world seems to be getting back into some sort of order now. Kate has left The Apprentice (is she evil or what?) and I'm getting back to my running after the office move (am I a goody two shoes or what?). Did a lovely run round Wendover Woods with Phoebe dog on Monday evening. We went late and it was just us, apart from some wild animal making a right racket, in the woods. Meant to go out Wednesday but got stuck at work. Last night I took to the roads, apart from a detour hacking my way through the undergrowth because the aforementiond Crong hill was blocked off for roadworks, and did a rolling 20km run in around 90 mins. I'm finding the Chiltern hills to be too easy so I'm going to have to find another way to do my hill training. One idea doing the rounds in my head is to crank the treadmill up to 15% then committing to running 5 miles uphill at least once a week. Not quite the 12 miles uphill on the Jungfrau but it'll have to do for now.

I was in the local paper last night (local to my home town of Doncaster that is). Tony's wife Max had contacted them in response to an article on cancer. She told them about Tony and my Jungfrau run and the fact I was doing it in aid of Brain Tumour UK . Overall the article was pretty good and gave my sponsorship webpage address (no response yet though) but they named the wrong village that I grew up in. This was after detailed discussions about the right villge. Jounalists!

Just had a call in the middle of writing this from my old schoolmate Dave Harcombe who saw the article and is now sponsoring me. Cheers Dave.

Still no news from the cardiologists.

Onward and upward (my motto for the next three months).

Aaaarrghhhh!

I'm in shock having just watched a programme profiling the remaining contestants in The Apprentice. The dreaded Kate, who comes a close second to Maggie Thatcher as the first to go against the wall come the revolution, drives the same car as me (even the same colour), loves running and holds similar views to me about people who don't look after themselves. Knowing how much I rant against her while watching The Apprentice my family thought it was hilarious but I found it very scary.

So I'm selling the car, taking up bog snorkelling and eating KFC as my primary food source.

Chicken leg anyone?

Fly Boy

Last year my daughters clubbed together and bought me a one-day gliding course for my birthday. I finally got round to taking the course yesterday. That's my glider and the instructor (leaning on glider) in the photo. It turned out to be a very interesting day and left me puzzling over my own mental make-up. In the end I declined the third flight and I'm still analysing why. I think it has to do with my attitude to risk. I think that I'm very risk averse. I've done some things that some people would consider risky such as packing in a very secure job to go freelancing. I'd quite happily disappear into the mountains on my own too but both of these things to me were/are low risk because I do my homework first and make sure they are safe. The freelance market was very healthy and I have a lot of experience in finding my way around in the hills and always take emergency supplies.

With the gliding I decided that there were just too many safety factors outside of my control. The flights were in fact lessons not simple joyrides. It was like your first three driving lessons except in 3-D. The sky was full of other gliders and the tug aircraft: above, below, left, right, in front and behind. It was like the Battle of Britain in silent slow motion. Also, despite the hot weather the thermals were hard to find. Comments from the instructor like "We've not got enough height to get back to the airfield" don't help when you're trying not to put the glider into a terminal tailspin. So I decided not to take the third lesson on offer. I felt obliged to because my girls had spent (too much of) their hard earned money on the course but ultimately I knew that they'd not want me to go up just for that reason alone.

Ever since then I've been wondering about what makes me tick and why. For example most sports that don't involve a significant amount of graft don't do anything for me. I've never taken to any form of motorised sport (because we never had a car when I was growing up?). I'd rather do cross country skiing than downhill. I'd rather ride a pushbike than a motorbike. Even then I don't like haring downhill out of control. I use hand hedge trimmers rather than electric trimmers (and I have far too much hedging). I'd rather handwash my car than stick it through a car wash (at least once a year). I sometimes think I was born 50 years too late. Having said that I think we probably did lead a 1930's lifestyle being fairly hard up in the 60's. I think that that is at the root of all this. Because we didn't have anything when growing up I probably subconsciously regard any luxuries as extravagance and anything not earned is not worth having. I'm not sure what all this is telling me. I dread to think what it's telling you!

I reckon I've had a fairly pensive week so far. I'll get over it soon I hope. I've certainly not had a fairly high mileage week. Apart from my long run on Monday and a short run on Wednesday I've done naff all. I'd intended to do a long road run today but went out last night to the aforementioned Rod's (see previous post) and indulged in too many but very nice red wines. I've been dehydrated and hungover all day. What a waste (although I did get to finish Everest the Hard Way. Must be nearly thirty year since I last read that). I'm now officially on the wagon until the evening of September 8th (Jungfrau day).

Going to check out the new office in the morning. No showers and an extra 10 miles on the M25. Lovely.

Chocks away!

Offloaded

Having gotten the previous post off my chest I needed to cheer myself up. Looking through my old photos I came across this one. It's me on my trusty Trek (or not so trusty as it turned out) above Les Arcs with Mont Blanc in the background. I spent a week with my friend, neighbour and foreign beer connoisseur Rod (the only man I know named after a piece of fishing equipment) as guests of Bike Village in the French Alps. I had a great time and learnt a lot about mountain biking on singletrack: namely why drag a lump of metal and rubber round a mountain when you can run it a damn sight easier and faster!? I love biking but there's a limit to what you should try and ride on and for me alpine single track is that limit. I spent ages trying not to fall off my bike down a mountainside on some of the most gorgeous running tracks imaginable.

Regarding the trusty Trek, on the day the above photo was taken the seat pillar bolt snapped. I spent the rest of the day (apart from the few seconds it took Rod to take the photo) stood up on my bike. It also gave me an excuse to take the next day off the bike and go for a long run instead :-)

Talking of running, after my long run on Monday I've only done a quick 4 miler round the golf course near the office. We move office today and apparently there's only one shower in new office for several hundred people. Should be a law against it.

Four weeks today to my birthday.