Long runs are possible

I'm similar to Joe Garland (and Flo for that matter), in that I won't feel bereft if I never do a long training run again — once the marathon is over. The 30k on Saturday went well. It was one of those calm sunny mornings that Canberra prides itself on this time of the year. Hot-air balloons were floating high over the lake.

We were out for a bit over three and a half hours, but the running time was 3:06. Coming back through the Wetlands near the end of the run, the foot-bridge over the river was blocked for repairs. We ran down to a railway bridge and sheepishly made our way across, then bush-bashed through an old dump before climbing a few fences and rejoining the path. All good fun! Bronwyn's Garmin map below shows our anti-clockwise trip around the lake and the detour near the end. The run went so well that I'm planning a similar distance on Saturday. It's most likely that I'll aim for the Christchurch Marathon on 6 June.

The YouTube video below shows part of the warm-up run for the Speedygeese Monday session at Parliament House. Yesterday we ran 'relay sprints' on the soft grass in front of the house. 30 minutes in teams of 3 — it was challenging and fun!

Follow the yellow bitumen road (and a railway bridge)

Sweating on a long run

Tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn I plan on running 30k with friends around beautiful Lake Burley Griffin. We'll be out for around 3 hours 15 minutes — afterwards, hopefully I'll be feeling normal enough to enjoy coffee and breakfast. I've been sweating on this run. It's a good bit longer than the 23k I'm used to on Saturday mornings. It's a bit of a test to see whether I'll like marathon training.

I'm slightly worried because my races haven't been going well. Thursday a week ago I started in the 5000, but reached 5 laps feeling very ordinary, so decided to bail out at 3k (12:47.4). Last night my legs were totally dead — was lapped by Speedygeoff, Brett and Nadine. Janene, Jim and Bronwyn were out of sight. I ran 13:59, which is more like half marathon goal pace. The heart-rate monitor told me I was running at tempo effort (86%), but the legs just wouldn't go faster! Anyway, my fingers are crossed for tomorrow's run.

Speaking of sweating, I've posted a couple of David Appleby's photos from the 10,000. You can see the sweat pouring out of me! In the second photo I'm being lapped by the third-placed female. There's also a link to a YouTube movie of a mystery run with the Wednesday Wiggles group. The quality isn't great — I need better video compression software, so if anyone knows of a good program, let me know.

Sweating in the ACT 10,000m Championships

Being lapped by the 3rd-placed lady

Wednesday Mystery Movie

Aging Disgracefully

I ran 45:57.54 in the 10,000 last Thursday evening — 1:03 away from an M50 PB. I'm at peace with the result. The race plan went well — started with 1:48 for the first lap, 4:28 for the first kilo. Kept up that effort throughout the race and ran the last kilometre in 4:29. Unfortunately the weather decided to put on a show more suitable for outdoor dining at midnight, rather than one for racing 25 laps of the track. It was 27 degrees when we ran (81 Fahrenheit), and humid. The sweat was pouring out of me. I'm a generous sweater, so don't run next to me on a training run in summer! Deek once said that the marathon should be held during the Winter Olympics. I'll add the 10,000 to that request.

For the first few laps I ran behind the group of John, Roger and Bronwyn. I overtook Bronwyn but John and Roger gradually got away — they were running too fast for me. The rest of my race was pretty lonely. I just concentrated on keeping the effort constant. Took one drink from the table set up on the back straight, but could have taken more. With 10 laps to go I saw the distance between myself and John shrinking from the 100 metres he'd built up. I managed to pass him with 2 laps to go, then calculated I'd need a quick last lap to break 46 minutes — did this with 1:40 for the last lap.

I've been thinking that I haven't aged gracefully. Like the motorcycle club I'm a member of, I've grown old disgracefully. If I were to run 45 minutes for 10k (on a cool day), the age-grade tables say that's worth 39:45 for a whipper-snapper. I'd need to be running 41:30 now to be "as graceful" as I was back in '91. Anyway, I'm having as much fun with running as I was back then, so that's the main thing. With running, it pays to have a sense of humour. If you can't laugh, you won't survive the pain inherent in running to the best of your ability. That's why I run with funny people — like the Speedygeese, or the Wednesday arvo runners — pictured below doing their best Wiggles impersonation on the front porch of Parliament House.

10k splits: 4:28, 4:32, 4:35, 4:33, 4:34 (22:42), 4:37, 4:41, 4:43, 4:45, 4:29 (23:15).

Running is less painful when you run with funny people

The Coach and I

I'm racing 10,000 metres on the track this Thursday. Canute expressed confidence when commenting on my last post that a time "comfortably under 45 minutes" was likely. If the Seiko at the finish reads less than 44:54 I'll have an M50 PB — how I want one of those! My tactic will be to run the very even schedule that worked for the one hour race. First lap in 1:48, first kilo in 4:30, and so on.

Scott wondered if my absence from blogging was due to stumbling through the back verandah's glass sliding door in a lamb chop and wine induced stupor! Thanks mate! Actually, I've been looking over my training diary from 1991 — trying to figure out what led to seven lifetime PBs. I think the simple answer is that I was desperate to run well, and sought out a good coach. That coach was Geoff Moore, who these days leads the highly popular Speedygeese running sessions. Geoff is a great motivator and in '91 gave me the confidence I needed to achieve breakthroughs.

The group was small compared to the multitudes that run with Geoff these days. There were less than a dozen serious runners, and we trained on a lovely grass track that's since been taken over by the Canberra Raiders football club. Geoff introduced me to long warm-up runs. We'd run 5 or 6 kilometres around the hilly Eucalypt Trail before doing our 1000 metre repeats on the grass track, then finish with a 3 or 4k warm-down run. In the depths of icy wind-blown Canberra winters we'd sprint hill repeats on Regatta Point. In the dry heat of Canberra summers we'd race on the AIS track. Wherever we were there'd always be friendly encouragement from all in the group. Happily, not much has changed.

Geoff (dark blue), supervises hill sprints at Parliament House, February 2010

The Shortest Hour

Sliding Doors is a movie I remember seeing on a flight to Canada in '98 with friends Gordon and Maggie. It's about the life of Helen (Gwyneth Paltrow) and follows her through two parallel universes after she's fired from her job. The movie made me think about what might happen to my life if I opened a different door; followed an unfamiliar trail; was active instead of passive; became a 'yes man' instead of a 'no man'.

What has all this philosophising got to do with running? On Thursday I was set to race 1500 metres on the track. The previous day I felt confident of running a season's best. Maybe sub-5:50 if all went well. I did a slow warm-up jog and all the while my legs were saying "We don't want to be here! We feel second-hand and sluggish!" I listened to my argumentative legs and decided to miss the 1500. I'd take lap splits for some of the Speedygeese and jog 4 or 5 k for an easy running day. I had also arranged to lap-score for a friend in the annual one hour race. Fifteen minutes prior to the start my friend still hadn't arrived, so I said 'what the heck', and decided to run the one hour race myself for 'training kilometres'.

The race went sublimely well! It was a warm evening (around 27°C), and as luck would have it, I guessed the correct pace by feel from the first lap. I gradually caught up to Bronwyn, then as the race went on, others who had started too fast — Roger, Dale and Susan. I had an amazing run! Sped up just prior to 10k so I'd break 47 minutes, but apart from that, ran very evenly. Finished with 12,811 metres and felt afterwards that I could have run another 10 laps at that pace (4:41 per km). If I'd gone through the sliding door of the 1500 I'd have never run this race. Yesterday morning I ran 'long' through the bush of Mount Ainslie and around the lake with Michelle, Brett and Nadine. 22.6k, with 14k of 'good' and 8.6k of 'less than good'. Starting fast on a long run is a sure way to find one's limits!

2k splits and average HR: 9:18 (139) 9:23 (148) 9:29 (148) 9:28 (148) 9:21 (150) 9:27 (151) + 3:34 for 811 metres (152).

A lonely 5000

Last Thursday evening I raced 5000 metres on the track. Finished 9th out of the 10 who ran 5k. The race was combined with a 3000, so us long-distance nuts continued on for 5 more laps. Crazy people! Time was 21:50.7. Sort of OK with that, as it was a season's best and my fastest 5k since November 2008.

I felt tired warming up, so decided to practise running as evenly as possible. I didn't want to hit the wall in the 4th kilo due to an early attack of the 'Steve Prefontaines' (I was going to say 'Scott Browns', but Scott is now the master of even-paced running). My tactic was successful, but perhaps detrimental to a faster final time. After the first 200 metres, I detached myself from the runners ahead (Jim, Bronwyn, Thea and Janene) as I felt they were running too fast. I ran the next 8 laps about 30 metres behind this group. In still conditions this would have been fine, but there was a noticeable headwind in the home straight. Nobody to draft behind — not that I like doing that, but I'd have been happy to share the work into the wind. My km splits were 4:22, 4:19, 4:21, 4:27 and 4:21.

I said in my last blog post that I'd start trying longer Saturday runs to see if I might enjoy training for a marathon. Bugger that! Something is whispering to me, so I'm listening. I'm excited — just haven't decided which marathon to target. Greg reckons my 5k on Thursday is worth 3:32:51 for the marathon. What would he know?! I've never been the best at converting 5k times, but if I follow a good training plan I know there's room for improvement!

A Marathon — Maybe

Joe Garland recently described, with particular eloquence, a conversation he had with himself while on a cold Walkman-less run. It was about the siren call of the marathon. Particularly the New York Marathon, and the magic of 'being carried by the crowd through Brooklyn'. It was about wanting to race 5Ks, 10Ks, half-marathons, and the fear of 'failing' at the marathon. It was about possibly not having the genetic gifts of a born marathoner.

Joe's conversation is similar to an on-and-off one I've been having with myself since my second marathon in June, 1981. That marathon was 3:28:28 — a 13 minute PB and sub-8-minute mile pace (I used miles and kilometres back then). I wouldn't finish another marathon until 1992. You see, 42.195 kilometres has never been my favourite race distance — but I've been thinking lately that I might run another marathon. My last was in 2005 — a very unsatisfactory 4:37.

With this scary thought in mind, I've decided to allow my Saturday long runs with the Molonglo group to gradually lengthen. Yesterday we ran 24 kilometres — starting in relative coolness, and finishing in uncomfortable warmth under an azure blue sky. At times I ran with Michelle (3:31:09 last year in Auckland). She was too fast, but graciously ran with us at the start, and stopped at the Mount Ainslie saddle for the group to catch up. If these Saturday runs get out to 30k, I'll ponder more seriously the prospect of a marathon. Perhaps at the Gold Coast in July, or Melbourne in October. I'd only start if I thought I was capable of a 'respectable' time. I'll define that for myself as 3:40, or on a dream day, a Boston Qualifying 3:35. My racing plans in the meantime, are at the track — trying to improve at 1500 and 3000 metres.

December BBQ with the Wednesday afternoon runners — Richard, Andy, Jen and Ruth. Chris was the honorary photographer

Dad

2009 is almost over. For me it's been a year of happiness and sadness; of Yin and yang; of pleasure and pain; of fast and slow. In short, the year has been just like running.

December 16 was the saddest day. After returning from a run with the Wednesday group I received a phone call from my sister Jane. Dad had passed away — he finally succumbed to complications following heart valve surgery. His passing came as something of a shock, as he had seemed to be rallying after many weeks of intensive care. He was 84.

I ran my first marathon with Dad back in '81. It was also his first. We completed our weekend long runs together on quiet roads through the flat farmlands south-east of Wagga. On other days Dad would sometimes accompany me on his Malvern Star 10-speed and urge me to run at 14 or 15 kilometres per hour. I think he was impressed with such running speeds because at age 55 they were beyond him. They are now beyond me! In the marathon I ran 3:41, and Dad 4:38. Both our marathon careers soon stalled, although not before Dad had improved his PB to (I think) 4:10. He took up competitive kayaking while continuing with sailing and 'fun running'. He completed many City-to-Surfs during the 1980s and early '90s. I gave away marathoning in a quest to improve at shorter races.

The funeral was on December 22 near Chinderah in northern NSW. I arrived on a flight from Sydney and Jane from Tasmania via Melbourne. My brother rented a holiday unit near Coolangatta beach for a few days. It was great to spend time with him, Catriona and the kids — Nathan and Claire, now teenagers — how fast they've grown! Also, a rare meeting with some of the cousins — Mike, Col, Jan, Wendy (Granny Lulu), Rob, and Rob's wife Sherry. We don't see them very often, so enjoyed their company in spite of the circumstances.

Anyway friends, back to running — which I guess this blog should be about. In terms of Yin and yang, the year was a failure — although not as disastrous as the year experienced by Julie. I wanted to run 11:39 for 3000 metres, but could only manage 12:26. Are times that important? Yes. And no. Enjoying racing and training is important to me, and I had fun with both. It was also my good fortune to meet some new friends, while trying to keep up with the old ones — they all run so fast! Here's to more of the same in 2010, and here's to you too — may you enjoy a year of happy and successful running.

Jan, Jane, Ewen, Wendy (Granny Lulu), Graeme, Dot, Nathan, Rob, Sherry, Claire, Mike, Catriona, Col

Out

It's been a while since I've blogged. Do I have permission to say 'It's that time of the year'? You know — parties; shopping; chat over coffee; BBQs; running. My apologies in advance for absent comments on your blogs for the next few weeks. I'll still be reading, so keep writing!

We all have our preferred race distances. For many of my readers, it's the marathon. I like track races — from 800 to 5000 metres. Of those, my favourite these days would have to be the 3000 — short enough to need some speed, yet long enough to require endurance. In spite of my love of track, I've habitually run one long race during each of the past six years. It's Australia's major trail race — The Six Foot Track 45k 'Marathon'. If you have a spare 10 minutes, this video will give you some idea of why Six Foot is so popular.

The 2009 race was fully subscribed over a month prior to the March race weekend (there's an 850 runner limit). I arrived home from work on December 1 (online registration for the 2010 race opened at one minute after midnight), to find the race had 'sold out' by mid-morning. Six Foot had out-Bostoned the Boston Marathon for popularity! So I'm out. I'll have to console myself with frequent track racing for the remainder of the summer season and regular coffee talk-fests with friends after training.

I hope everyone has had fun with their year of running. Catch you all (if I'm fast enough) in January.

Crossing the Cox's River in 2005

A low-five coming up in 2009. After 45k, am I permitted to be a heel-striker?

The Wanting Comes In Waves

I did a boy-thing last week — made a bet with Steve on the outcome of the Vets' 5000 metre race. If he managed to lap me, he'd win a beer. I thought I was safe. Surely Steve's tired ultra-running legs would struggle for track speed and he'd run about 20:30. Therefore I'd need to clock 22:15 — a time I was confident of running.

Now then, I'm very serious about track races — my PBs in this most universal of racing locations mean the most to me. I didn't think the beer-bet would come into play. So, it came as quite a shock when I heard Steve's pitter-pattering feet closing fast when I still had a lap and 150 metres to run. Steve was on his final lap, and he drew alongside as we entered the home straight. I sprinted as if the beer up for grabs would be my last! We ran shoulder-to-shoulder towards the 'finish', but the bastard got the better of me in the final metres. He'd run 20:10! Feeling sheepish and deflated, I then dragged a pair of protesting legs around my last lap for a time of 21:59. Although losing the beer, I was happy enough that running 30 seconds faster later in the season seems possible.



The above video is a day in the life of Jennifer Barnes, produced by her loving husband Zach. I've been reading Jen's blog for a couple of years (we have similar running PBs). She's raced the Boston Marathon, and is now an Ironman. A warning though — have some tissues handy, if like me, you're touched by emotional stories. Yes I admit it, there was moisture in my eyes.