Garmin psycology

I've been taking it quite steady since my 30 mile training extravaganza the other week, running little and often. The light nights make it easier and I managed a full seven days of consecutive running which I've never ever done before.

Still last Sunday evening I remembered that I am actually meant to be training for an endurance event so I went for a bit of a longer run, albeit it with no real plan. I had vague notions of going up Traprain Law, a volcanic hill rising out of the East Lothian farmland, but this felt kind of ambitious and I'd settle for just checking out some new paths on the way.

It was all going fine. I got to the foot of the Law, and realised it was getting late and there really wasn't time to go up so headed back. I'd done over eight and a half miles so new I'd have racked up a decent distance by the time I'd got home.

I'd just started the return leg when my Garmin gives a funny kind of a beep. Low battery. Now however much I like to pretend to myself I'm above this kind of stuff, the idea of having some unlogged miles put the fear of God into me. So for no really good reason my run changed from a leisurely saunter along the river Tyne, to a serious struggle to beat the battery.

The next thing I know I'm tearing along the trails in a way that's totally unnecessary for someone who is on a long run and meant to be thinking about tapering. I was going so speedily I clearly put the wind up what I think was a red deer, which rather than tangle with something as menacing with me thought it would make more sense to leap out at me and bound into the river whilst barking like a dog. The resulting adrenaline certainly helped me along, I'm used to watching out for the buzzards but didn't think I had to fear the herbivores.

On getting back to the road some serious running was done, head down and fast, just over seven minute miles. Whilst doing all sorts of hard sums in my head. If the beep meant 20% battery left and I'd run for 84 minutes the if I reached the North Berwick turning in 18 minutes then everything would be OK. Whole mathematical castles were built on the shakiest of foundations to convince myself that it was all going to be OK as long as I kept going, and fast.

I made it back to the outskirts of town, properly knackered and reckoned it was safe to slow so I did. And made to the end of my run without hearing the dreaded beep of a dying Garmin. It ran out 30 seconds after I stopped, and I was left pondering the sheer ridiculousness of it all, unable to work out if the added intensity to the second half of my workout was a good thing or not.

Then I looked at the times somehow in spite of feeling like I spent the whole way home on the edge it was still a very slight positive split, the fast miles had left me drained and the final three were very slow.

All of which goes to show that Garmins can do funny things to you, I'm somewhat stupid for allowing it to, the deer was daft for jumping in the river and no-one really emerges with  much credit.

The land of the ultra-runner

Today I had my first experience of the land of the ultrarunner. That place beyond 26.2 miles which I'd never previously seen before.

The Plan

Simple - run three ten mile loops from my house. The race I'm training for, the Clyde Stride, is split into four segments of 10 miles each with a drop bag at each. So the idea was to test out the food ideas for these drop bags as well as my ability to do the distance and give me a better idea of pacing. I'd selected a mixed loop of trail and road to try and match the race itself, and tried to mirror the terrain as best I could. My fairly ill informed guess before setting off was that each loop should take about 1h 30, and a time between 4h 30 and 5h would be a good result.

What happened

It all went scarily like clockwork, I struggled a little to get going and was a little daunted by the distance to go. The first time my garmin beeped it was quite sobering to think I would hear the thing beep 29 more times before I stopped. I also felt a bit full running so soon after breakfast. But this all passed in about three miles and I settled down into my stride. I ran nine minute miles at first which felt about right and I speeded up slightly as I got into things.

The first lap passed easily after that, and after a quick pit stop I grabbed my headphones and tuned out to a mixture of music and podcasts for the second lap which also felt fairly smooth.

I started the third lap at a similar speed to the first and still felt strong. The marathon passed in 4h 05, and I passed into the mythical land of the ultra. It felt much the same, my legs were still getting a bit sore and I was ready for the end. Although I was pleased that I felt better than I did at 24 miles in the marathon. The last 3 miles I began to slow a bit and I was glad to stop. But overall I felt I ran fairly smoothly.

0 to 10 miles - 1h 33
10 to 20 miles - 1h 33
20 to 30 miles - 1h 36

Total 4h 42

Food

On 1st leg

• 2 slices malt loaf with butter (right at start)
• 2/3 ninebar (around 30mins)
• Energy gel (around 1h)

At first stop

• 2 slices malt loaf with butter

On 2nd leg

• 1/2 bounty (around 2h)
• Energy gel (2h 30)

At second stop

• 1/2 scotch egg
• 1/2 bottle flat(ish) coke

On 3rd leg

• 1/2 bounty (3h30)
• Energy gel (4h)

This all worked pretty well, there was nothing that made be feel bad, although I didn't want things in quite the same volume as I has envisaged - the idea of a whole scotch egg appalled me.

The other thing I learned was that if you put coke in the bottle for my bottle belt, and it isn't totally flat. Then the pressure will build up as you run and the drink fizzes, until it shoots out a fountain of coke onto you elbow - much stickiness. To be honest I think having one bottle of coke and one of water left me short on water and feeling thirsty - not sure I'll do this again.

I took the gels on the move, but walked up a nasty little hill while eating foot on the run.

Animals

Buzzard (again), baby deer (took me ages to work out what they were), baby bird that couldn't fly marooned on the forest floor, hare, mouse.

Conclusion

I was ready to stop by the end, but I think your body gets used to the idea of what it is doing and had I being doing 40 it would have gone on, albeit maybe a bit slower. I'm pretty sure I can do the 40 mile distance and that I have a sensible food strategy worked out, but you never know how it will go on the day. I need to have a bit more of a think about pacing though...

Flirting with my injury

Its been a funny couple of weeks running wise.

I'm running my first ultra in July so it's starting to seem quite close, and I've been trying to step up the amount of training I'm doing. I've probably not been doing too much extra mileage, but I've been doing it in bigger runs. I'd also taken to doing some of my shorter runs over my local hill, with some barnstormingly fast descending - by my standards anyway.

At the end of May I did three runs of 18 miles in the space of 10 days, and my body pushed back suggesting this was a bit much.

I've always had a few issue with my right hip, and this is an injury I've flirted with over the years, thankfully without it ever blossoming into a long term relationship. It seemed to view my three long runs in quite quick succession as an invitation to take things to the next level, and quite cheekily induced its friend my right knee to join in.

I'm not used to experiencing pain when I'm running to the extent I want to stop, so took this as a sign I needed to ease back. I don't really know what is wrong with me. Dr internet seems to keep talking about something called an IT band, but running too much doesn't seem to help and running sensibly seems to keep things under control.

So I had the best part of a week off, and have run only slowly and steadily since then. The key focus is that I need to do a long (30 miles(ish)) run soon as prep for my ultra. In all honesty I'm not sure that physically I need it, but I've had it planned in and I think my confidence on the day will suffer if I haven't done at least one marathon + length run.

So nice and slow running with resolutions to do lots more stretching and to work on my core strength seem to be helping. I listened to a podcast last week in which Marco Consani sagely remarked that no-one stretches when things are going well - I emphasised with this.

Had a lovely run in the sunshine on Tuesday evening complete with baby llama, although I feared for the worst when I saw a buzzard near the start (not a good omen previously) I felt OK so hopefully moving in the right direction.

 

Clyde Stride recce

So todays plan was to recce the 2nd half of the Clyde Stride which I'm running in July. This day had been carefully booked in, we had friends to stay with in the west, and it worked with my wife's work. Shame that it happened to be a complete shocker weather wise. I first got nervous when the rain was pouring down on the M8. My windscreen wipers rarely see speed setting 3, but it was needed far too much on the drive over.

So the plan was this. Drop the family at our friends, drive to New Lanark, leave the car, walk to Lanark train station, get train to Motherwell, run back to car. Simple. First part was fine, walked to the station eating a sandwich (ham salad and coleslaw) got train (£4.10 single!!!, to end up in Motherwell). Got to Motherwell, and after some disorientation found my way down to Strathclyde Park and was properly off on the route.

Annoyingly I realised I was carrying far too much water literally minutes after I passed the last bin I could have dumped the stuff in. I didn't see another bin until New Lanark, although I quickly drank the water cos it was pissing me off, I had to carry the bottle all the way with me. Only the Gods of karma kept me from flinging the stupid bottle into the Clyde but I didn't feel I needed more punishment.

Experienced Clyde Stride types are forever banging on about the coo field (Scottish for cow field). It lived up to its fearsome reputation. There were a few stand offs with militant cows, in the end I took to the extreme edge of the river bank to get past them, figuring that in an emergency I could outswim a cow (which I probably couldn't). They let me past, but I did end up with bird shit all over my jacket  as a result of climbing down the sandbanks and never quite felt clean afterwards.

The first bit passes fairly easily, I was a bit put out by this sign which I felt was crying out for a Clyde Walkway west arrow, but I muddled through.

 

 

Mauldslie bridge arrived quite easily and I was lulled into something of a false sense of security about how easy this all was.

 

 

I soon came to a great opportunity for a limbo spot prize during the race

 

 

and then had my first encounter with some proper mud

 

 

I don't own any trail shoes but if I did this is precisely the sort of terrain that would leave me thinking long and hard about what shoes to wear, ahhh the advantages of limited funds. This whole bit through some ridiculously named woods was most unpleasant. However it was nothing compared to the unremittingly grim bit next to the sheep fields after Crossford. Here the mud was both deep and unavoidable. It was hard today as I just couldn't run and slipped everywhere, but on race day with 30+ miles in my legs this would be properly tough.



 

 

It was great to get past this bit and down towards New Lanark, it was all a bit of  a struggle now but the end was in sight. The paths down through the woods were a little hair-raising, but I got there and found the energy to run past the car and to the falls of Clyde, which in spite of the rain were a little tame.



 

 

Then back to the car, a well earned thermos of coffee and back to our friends, where I learned that my eldest had been sick, my trip to the pub was off, and a drive back home in the pissing rain was in order.

 

Still very pleased with my day, I did the distance without too much trouble, my food seemed to work (high 5 gels, a bounty,  a nine bar, some soreen and some haribo) there isn't too much to be scared off in the terrain, and thanks to some mid run plastering, no nipple issues at all.

 

As I missed my trip to the pub, I followed up my tour of Lanarkshire with my own world tour...

 

  





Chasing rainbows

Spectacular weather on my run home tonight, rain, sun, wind. But the highlight was the amazing rainbows over the sea as I neared home.

Ran well too, 7.30 min miles for much of the way. The benefits of a lunchtime cake.

Eat like a pig : Run like a fox

I didn't really intend that this blog would be about what I eat, I think that would be even duller than me talking a lot about running. But given that I'm not telling anyone about this blog I guess none of that matters.

Anyway after not eating very much last week and trying to run a long way, without much success, this week I felt a new approach was called for. Well I say new but actually eating a lot of rubbish and running so I can get away with it, has been one of my routes to success for a long time.

So I tried the same run home from work as last week (18 miles), but instead of the salad and vegetables, I went for toast and muesli for breakfast, for lunch - masses of pasta and a chocolate muffin and some energy gels and a bounty mid run. I'd never ever considered eating a bounty before in any context let alone a sporting one, but I was reading somewhere about someone who ate one during the D33 and thought it might work. Turns out to be a great idea.

I hadn't really done gels since last years marathon, and they required a special lunchtime pilgrimage to the very busy running shop. I think they felt a little bad when they realised I had been waiting 10 min to buy two gels, but I love looking at all the cool running stuff I can afford. They are hideous and messy things, but they do serve a purpose, although I always feel like and idiot running along, trying to curl them up like a toothpaste tube to squeeze out those last few precious drops.

So running home was fine. Held a decent pace all the way. Never felt bad, mentally or physically in spite of taking a longer and hiller route. The wind was also against me, but living on the Scottish coast I'm used to that, and my thoughts on the wind are probably worth a blog in themselves.

The conclusion. Eat, and don't worry too much.

Carbo unloading

So this week, on something of a whim,saw me give up carbs for five days. My wife decided that she was going to so I thought I would give it a try to see what would happen. After all you hear lots of stories of people being very successful on paleo diets and such like.

Now when I say give up carbs, that would be to undersell the 50g of brown rice I was allowed each day. To be fair when we had brown rice and curry it was fine. But when the days precious ration of carbohydrate was in the form of puffed brown rice cereal it was hard not to feel a little mournful. Puffed brown rice cereal is the evil twin of sugar puffs, which themselves are pretty evil so that gives you some idea of how bad the stuff is.

Anyway, in an amusing twist of fate, this week was also to be my hardest running week so far in my build up the Clyde Stride in July. 13 miles on Tuesday and 17 on Thursday. Both after a full day at the office, getting off the train one and two stops early respectively.

Tuesday was hard. For ten miles I was fine and then I really started to struggle, at the end my legs felt like molten lead - sort of like a Victorian terminator - and the slightest hill was a struggle.Any naïve visions of my body adjusting to its new diet and setting down to burn off its abundant fat supplies were quickly abandoned. I got in feeling drained and sick and didn't feel better until I had forced down some brown rice. And when I found myself crying at don't tell the bride and grand designs, I realised that perhaps my emotional state wasn't all it could be either.

By Thursday my five days were over and I had feasted on some muesli for breakfast, and some quinoa for lunch, as well as a pre run banana. All forbidden in the previous five days, but sadly not enough. My run started nicely, a beautiful path, and a buzzard in the trees. As it turned out I was very glad to meet this magnificent bird of prey early on, as had he seen me ten miles later he would have been circling ominously, hopeful of a meal - although if he'd needed carbs he would have been sadly disappointed.

I got to about 15 miles and struggled, not as much as Tuesday, but enough. You kind of get to the point where if you are spending 3 hours of your evening doing something it is disappointing to get to the end and find you haven't enjoyed it. And that was really what Thursday was.

Two days later I've probably put back on most of the five pounds I lost, and haven't run since, so think the lesson was that it was a silly idea. Which I could probably have guessed the before, but I'm glad I learned the hard way.