Childlike abandon

I've been waiting to tell you about a race that happened two Sundays ago. It was an amazing race. 1500 metres on the track. Even my up-over readers would know how far that is — the metric mile. One-and-a-half kilometres.

The race was one event in the first of the High Noon meetings to be held at the AIS track over winter. It was an "all-comers" meeting. The weather was all-perfect — 16°C (61°F), sunny, just the occasional zephyr ruffling the windsock near the long jump runway.

A field of 23 runners and 2 race-walkers crowded the curved starting line. Our ages ranged from under 10 to 60; boys and girls, all anticipating the excitement and tactics that 1500 metre racing provides. At the crack of the gun we charged off, aiming for the same bit of Mondo 100 metres away. I thought I'd started with blinding speed, but looked around after 50 metres and thought 'wow, I'm last!'. Why couldn't I run with childlike abandon? Why was my central governor set permanently in slow motion? It didn't matter. I was racing. I was having fun!

Around the top curve and some of the littlies started to slow. I picked my way around them — at times contemplating testing my steeplechase hurdle technique. Speedygeoff was just ahead, but he pulled inexorably away. The Seiko showed 1:04 at 300 metres. I didn't get any other splits — I just chased the one other person in the race who was on the ancient side of thirty and within reach. I caught him with a lap to go, then increased the pressure trying to bridge the gap to Emi. Youth prevailed by 3 seconds. I finished 13th — incredibly pleased (and surprised) with my time — 5:38.49. This was an M50 PB, but what gives me hope for the future is that it was "out of the blue" and run off endurance training. When I introduce interval training, theory has it that I should become faster.

For the record, the 15-year-old winner of the race ran 4:11. The first in a line of talented girls ran 4:52. My 5:38 is apparently equivalent to 4:56 for a 33-year-old.

Calm conditions are good for racing — as we have here on Lake Burley Griffin in this view of the National Library from the National Museum

Where am I?

Last Saturday I ran in a 5k race on the scenic bike-paths adjacent to Lake Burley Griffin. My time was 21:46. I had a good race, even if the weather was less than desirable. A chilling westerly, which I'd have been rapturous about in my old sailing days, turned my final 2k into a Michael Jacksonesque moon-walk.

I've been pondering where this result leaves a naturally ponderous athlete when it comes to a lofty goal of running 11:07 for 3000 metres. My 5k was 48 seconds faster than for the same race last year. A mere 3.5% improvement. Am I optimistic in believing I'll be 3.5% faster when the summer T&F season rolls around in October? If I can be this much speedier I'd be rewarded with an 11:33 — leaving me lactate-legged and panting, over 100 metres behind the runner who's face expresses the immediate relaxation of sheer relief upon looking left at the Seiko and seeing 11:07 click over.

I'm in for a long hard winter. As I train through wind-swept afternoons, I'll take great inspiration from a movie not yet in production. "Far out in Fargo" is the story of an ice-encrusted runner who staggers in from the frozen plains of North Dakota, slashes 6 minutes from his PB to win a famous marathon in 2hrs 30mins 34secs — in doing so, he leaves a highly ranked Kenyan sitting in the gutter, dumbfounded and head-shaking in disbelief.

Lake Burley Griffin sunset from near the Carillon. I like the coolness of this photo and the mystery of the unknown runner.

Thinking of Kate

Last Sunday I went on a day trip to Albury. My mate Jim was driving — we left Canberra at 3am! The purpose of our foolishness was to do the Nail Can Hill Run. I ran this race last year; and the year before that. It's becoming a habit. I'm not sure why. Nail Can is an 11.3km race with a thumping big hill! I'm no mountain goat. Give me the flatness of a 400 metre Mondo track any day.

It was foggy and cold as I shivered with a record field of 1500-plus starters. I carried my trusty Sony phone camera, thinking I'd take some photos to show you what you're missing. As I raced towards "the hill", I thought of two Kates. One Kate we've nicknamed KFC — after her initials. Kate's parents named her before Kentucky Fried Chicken became KFC. She's a very talented runner. The other Kate, I first saw on Countdown. I sang a tune of hers in my head as I plodded up "the hill", pausing occasionally to take photos...

Say if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems...

Singing along with Kate worked. As "the hill" flattened out, I started to run, and realised my pace was good. I was having fun running fast, just like KFC used to; so there were no more stops for photos. I raced down to the finish, very pleased to record my best time since 1981 — 56:53. My mate Jim ran 54:11 — watch out next year! One runner I'd loved to have swapped places with is my training partner from Calwell — Kathy was the third female, and broke the 50+ record running 48.34!

A tad brisk before the start. Kathy (in pink) finished third

First part of the hill

Runners appeared out of the fog

It was a long hill!

Nearing the top of the climb

The finish line was a welcome sight

"That's all", she wrote.

Joan "O" has stopped writing. Well, she's only stopped writing for us — the readers of her blog. I'm feeling a little melancholy about this, as I enjoy how Joan uses words to convey a love of running.

At Calwell I've always done the longer winter warm-up runs with the kids. In pre-ancient times, I would chat to them during the run (these days I need every breath just to keep them in sight). Sometimes I'd say "What are your goals?", or "Can you see where running might take you in ten year's time?". I remember a couple of the girls replying "I want to run in the Olympics". I said "You have the talent to do that". They really did have the physical talent. Maybe they'll still run in the Olympics. I want to show them (and other young runners with similar goals) something Joan wrote in May 2005 about "doing your best": Pinball Wizard.

Joan started running seriously in 1980. In 1996, at her fourth attempt to make an Olympic team, she was successful. As was her habit in every race, she tried her very best, and on that day third place was enough. She became Joan, "O"lympian. Every race forever after was like a bonus game in pinball.

I sat up late on Sunday night to watch the US Olympic Trials Marathon for women, held in downtown Boston the day before the famous marathon. There was no video, just an intermittent text update of each mile split for the runners. As expected, Deena Kastor won, catching Magdalena Lewy Boulet in the 23^rd mile. Blake Russell placed third — two minutes behind, but her best, on that day, was good enough (at her second attempt) to become Blake, "O"lympian.

On some days I run with ancient friends. It's still not easy to keep up. They're fast!

Having the right 'tude is important if you wish to run well. Here I emulate CJ while Mark just smiles. [Katy photo]

Hadd for Ancients

As I drove the Toasts to the airport after the Canberra Marathon, Mark asked "How's the 11:07 for 3k plan going?". "It's not going to be easy", was all I could blurt out, while navigating our circuitous roads and avoiding the worst of Canberra's suicidal P-plate drivers.

There's purportedly nothing new in distance running training. I'll call my plan Hadd for Ancients, which I hope is something which will work for me. In a recent post, I wrote about being shocked at losing my sprint speed whilst doing Hadd-training. For those that don't know, Hadd is similar to the base phase of Lydiard training, but using heart-rates to guide the effort on any particular run.

Why Hadd for Ancients? Because as we become ancient (for argument, over 40, although I know teenagers who regard 25 as ancient), we lose sprinting speed. However, if we regularly practise sprinting, we can limit this loss. For the next six to eight weeks I'll run aerobic Lydiard-style base training; similar to what I did in the second half of last year, but with a few modifications. Once per week, after one of my steady runs, I'll do some barefoot 100 to 150 metre sprints on the grass track at Calwell — not flat out, but running relaxed and fast, with full recoveries between sprints. I'm also going to do a short race (about 3k), every two weeks. The other significant modification is to run more of my aerobic runs at Hadd's "upper aerobic" heart-rates — 80 to 85% of maximum (HR 133 to 141 for me), sometimes a little higher, but trying to stay under my lactate threshold. I think these faster runs will be beneficial because the mechanics of running movement at 5 minutes per kilometre pace (8:03 miles), is not dissimilar the mechanics of running at my 5k race goal pace of 4:00 per kilometre (6:26 miles).

After this six to eight weeks, I'll reduce the weekly volume, and start running one or two anaerobic interval sessions per week. More on that later. I hope everyone is having a great weekend — especially those like Jen, who are lucky enough to be running the Boston Marathon. Go Jen!

Under the bridge - Toasts and geese cheer on a marathoner in Canberra.

Go CoolRunner! Rob #174 (3:15:38) about to overtake Tim #190 (3:15:41) - 2km to go.

Go Luckylegs! 5:34:06 in her last marathon at Canberra. [Jim White photo]

She ran out of sight

The Canberra Marathon is on this Sunday. I'm not racing! Not that I was ever talented enough to race a marathon. The marathons I've run have always been a test of endurance. How long could I endure?

Canberra was where I ran my first marathon in 1981 — 3:41:14. This Sunday I'll be joining some friends to watch the excitement unfold by running to various places on the loopy course. Other friends from near and far are running the marathon (or making a spectacle of themselves by dressing up in strange outfits and cheering).

I'm particularly interested in one competitor, 'Luckylegs', who is running yet another marathon at the remarkable age of "three score and sweet eighteen". On Sunday I expect her to run out of sight... not on a dark night, but on a sparkling Autumn morning. I've been coaching Norma for three years, and the 2008 Canberra Marathon will be our last as a team. Yes, I've been sacked! I suspect she's decided to hire a better looking coach, such as Bob.

Some observers think Luckylegs's greatest achievement was her W75 Australian Record for 50k (6:32:28). Others insist it was coming within 8 seconds of the W75 world record for the mile (9:06.88). I believe her greatest achievement was the ability to endure the demands of a such a strict and humourless coach.

I hope you all have an enjoyable weekend. For us in Canberra, I have a feeling it's going to be a goof one!

Sunset at Lake Burley Griffin from near the Carillon - 9 April 2008

Lulled by Autumn

I spent the four-day break over Easter at my old home town; Wagga. It's still my mum's home town. It was a gathering of siblings, minus one: my little sister is living and working in Minneapolis. So, we had one less person to assemble the 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle — All About Chocolate! My brother and his family helped out. My nephew is 13 and my niece 11; it's amazing how much they've grown in six months.

So, it was a happy family time. I squeezed in two short runs — both down to the lake. In the sixties we could see the lake from our front porch, hence the name of our house — "Lochfyne". Now tall trees obscure the view. On my second run, I tried 'tempo pace' for the last 6k, which sent my heart-rate skyward. I've lost some aerobic fitness since Six Foot. During the last kilometre of the run, I huffed and puffed my way past my old primary school; Kooringal Public. I thought about the afternoon 'quiet time' we used to have — where you crossed your arms on the wooden desk (being careful to keep your sleeve out of the ink well), put your head down, and slept for 15 or 20 minutes.

Since Six Foot, I've been having a 'quiet time' from serious training — just running the miles, on any particular day, as I feel. I'll call this my Lydiard 'train-off' phase — the few weeks of easy running to allow recovery from the track season. The 3000 metre goal will take a concerted effort, and I want to be ready.

So ... I run, sometimes with a friend, or friends, sometimes alone; watching silvery autumn leaves from the birch trees floating through the air like winsome butterflies; and I savour a less intense warmth from the sun, shining brightly out of a clear blue sky.

Phone photo attempt 1 - When running with Strewth I have to be careful not to elbow her in the head.

Phone photo attempt 2 - Strewth is not really that short. Sunset is reflected in her glasses.

Autumn sunset over Lake Burley Griffin.

The reason we run Six Foot

It's been one week and two days since Six Foot. Only now am I able to run normally. Without pain. Well, some of my normal running involves pain, but not the delayed muscle-soreness kind of pain that comes from having run too far, and over too many mountains.

Grellan expressed surprise that I'd gone and run an 'ultra', when I'd been spending the summer training studiously for faster 3k times around the 400 metre track. The Six Foot Track Marathon has something which keeps drawing me back, year after year. I just love it.

Blogging friend Hamburglar ran Six Foot this year with a mate Will, who was carrying his trusty Olympus digital camera. Will's video, wonderfully produced, does a brilliant job of conveying the emotion of Six Foot. Have a look. I hope to see you running through the Blue Mountains on a Saturday in March, some year in the near future.

An inadvertent Six Foot PB

I feel a little like the freckle-faced child who has raided the neighbours' peach tree and got away with it. On Saturday morning I stepped, ran, walked, shuffled, and plodded, 45 kilometres through the sublime Blue Mountains from Katoomba to Jenolan Caves. I was just one of 762 finishers in Australia's greatest trail race – the Six Foot Track Marathon. In deference to my mate Scott, I'll refrain from Tolstoyising the day. Let's just say it was a long one, and a long weekend.

It was the fifth time I'd completed this race. Something keeps drawing me back. I can't help myself. This year I didn't do any specific preparation. I was so keen to run well around the 400 metre track, that I didn't want the long, slow, hilly runs diverting attention from my speedy track goal. I restricted my long runs to around 16k, usually out and back to Rose Cottage Inn.

On Saturday I felt good; relaxed. Before the Cox's River, I ran easily, having a ball on the single-track until I came upon a very long Woolies-style queue of runners, impossible to overtake. Luckily the coasting only lasted for 2km or so. The river was cool and refreshing, as were the stream crossings of Alum creek. On the hike up to the Pluviometer, a multitude of delightful bellbirds were in full tinkly voice. The distant sounds of Kookaburras added to the Aussie bush atmosphere.

It wasn't until after the Pluviometer that I contemplated a PB, and possibly going under six hours. One never knows how one will go until the Black Range. It was good! I was able to run – albeit with a shuffling stride. Walks were confined to the uphill sections. I waited for the cramps, which never came. I repeatedly thanked Blair for the cool day. By the Binda Cabins, I knew a wheel would have to seriously fall off, to keep me from running well under six hours. The landscape finally tilted down and I picked my way, with 'talking quads' gingerly to Caves House. 5 hours 41 minutes and 7 seconds! This was a 37-minute PB and placed me 469th. Very happy with the run, and very happy to be amongst friends.

Splits: Nellies (1.7k) 19:25, Megalong Valley Rd (8.1k) 52:14, Pinnacle Hill (10k) 1:03:07, Cox's River (15.5k) 1:39:40, Mini-Mini summit (20k) 2:25:24, Pluviometer (26k) 3:22:28, Caves Rd (37.9k) 4:49:42.

11:58.44

On Thursday I slid the DeLorean to a stop in the year 2002. That was the last time I'd run faster than 12 minutes for 3000 metres – 11:57.95 at an Interclub meeting on December the 14th. On Thursday afternoon I ran 11:58.44. Needless to say, I'm happy to be in the elevens once again. I've been asked to "tell all", so here is the whole story...

I worked for 9 hours, but tried to forget about it. Managed a 30-minute nap before driving out to the AIS, for once allowing plenty of time for a good warm-up. I jogged 5k slowly, with some breaks for stretches and rest – felt OK doing this, but not great. My movement did feel good after swapping to the Frees and running some strides. I had my mind in the right place, and was positive about doing well. My mate Blair at the BOM had organised the temperature to be a mild 16°C.

I started on the outside of the curve, with a plan to slot in behind Burkie. He's not a fast starter, but was in good form (40:55 for 10k last week). Nev took my spot, so I followed him and Burkie through the 200m mark in 44 seconds – 11-minute pace, but it didn't feel that quick. Robbie was about 10 metres ahead of our group of three.

The photofinish clock showed 3:55 after one kilometre. I was still feeling comfortable enough. At this point, Burkie slipped ahead by a few metres, but I decided to stay behind Nev. I was having to chop my stride at times to stay at this speed – it's been so long since I've experienced that in a race, that I'd almost forgotten the feeling. I pulled wide in the home straight and thought about passing Nev, but the moderate head-wind was enough to deter my enthusiasm for the move.

We overtook Robbie, and at the start of the next lap, I sensed Nev was slowing, so went past. Burkie was 40 metres ahead, but I couldn't do anything about it. I was pretty much at my limit. 2000 metres in 7:55, so 4 minutes for that kilometre. Speedygeoff was standing at the 200m start, shouting (quietly) encouragement to all the geese. Thanks Geoff! The last kilometre was feeling hard (as it should) – I was hoping I had enough time in hand to sneak under 12 minutes. Geoff called "eleven fifteen, go for it!" My mental arithmetic went into overdrive... sub-45 needed for the last 200 metres. I sprinted as well as I could, very thankful for the sprints I've been doing in training lately. 11:58.44, an M50 PB! 6:25 per mile pace for imperialist friends such as Grellan.

That was the last 3000 metre race of the season. The good result has fired my enthusiasm for the rest of the year. My next opportunity to race on the track will be at the High Noon meets in June. That will be novel – racing a distance event on the track in Canberra's perfect arctic-like winter stillness.