If yesterday's run was damp, today's was soaking. It began to rain as I shut the front door behind me just after 6 in the morning, and built quickly to a downpour. By the end of the first half-mile I was soaked, cold in the wind, and I never really warmed up. My legs were heavy and tired. I went to the seafront for the last two miles, but met no other runners or dog-walkers.
I rose, reluctantly, at 6 and went out for four miles. It rained, a weak drizzle. At the end I felt no endorphic joy; I felt nothing at all. I long for extreme weather, cold or heat, anything but this muggy wetness.
Today I ran a three mile fartlek, with a mile warm-up and cool-down. I find fartleks hard to judge. Do I push myself too hard, or do I take it too easy? For the latter, I sometimes find, when running a recovery section, that I have drifted off into a reverie, for example I might imagine myself in the basement swimming pool of the Royal Automobile Club on Pall Mall; the pool is empty apart from the actress who plays Isabelle so well in Birdsong. As I reach the end of a length I turn and see that her swimming costume has fallen off. Not wishing the poor girl to feel embarrassed, I strip off my Vilebrequin trunks, exclaiming, 'gosh, isn't modern workmanship shoddy? No one can sew a seam these days.' She turns to me, holds out her hand, and whispers huskily, 'Tom, chéri, there is no one to see us'. Gently, I....and then I realise I am on my own, running on Seaford seafront before dawn, and I really ought to speed up.
The back continues to plague me. Consequently a four mile run today was the only exercise I have managed since Wednesday. I don't feel too guilty; better to overcome an injury early on in marathon training than succumb to one later on. In any case, the schedule required a 10K race today: ridiculous. Where am I supposed to find one of those on the third Sunday after Epiphany?
So I made it out for four miles over Seaford Head. I think I may have disqualified myself from Janathon, but tant pis. This marked the end of the fourth week of marathon training, the first quarter of the programme, and I am not unhappy. I have fallen back into the habit of early morning runs, and have built up some miles. I hope, when I run again on Tuesday, to be back to fitness.
Total this week: 13.81
Six weeks to the Eastbourne half marathon
Twelve weeks to the Brighton marathon
Yesterday, a five mile run early in the morning. Today, nothing. I have been nursing a bad back since Monday, and it seems to be getting worse. What causes it? Too much driving, did I rick my back swimming back-stroke, was it when I carried a heavy load the other day?
I have had back trouble before. Twenty years ago I went to see an osteopath, a very beautiful young French woman. I had to undress, lie on a couch and be manipulated. Alas, she left, and was replaced by a sweaty Australian man. Nevertheless, I think it did me some good.
I always read Richard Lehmann's JournalWatch, hosted by the Centre for Evidence-based Medicine. It is always valuable, for the horticultural notes as well as for his witty analysis of the articles in the main medical journals. In the latest one he reports on a paper in the New England Journal of Medicine on the perils of marathon running. I love, though do not agree with, his conclusion, which I hope he will allow me to quote, ' If only the Persians had won: we might have a world free of marathons, Olympic games and unhelpful Greek medical terms like hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (or such really exotic examples as paragonimiasis)'.
It seems if you're a young man, cardiac arrest will be caused by hypertrophic cardiomyopathy while if you're my age it will be the atherosclerotic coronary disease that does for you. Women don't seem to be prone to handing in the dinner pail mid-race. I have, I'm afraid to say, run in marathons when participants have died.
Kim JH, Malhotra R, Chiampas G, d'Hemecourt P, Troyanos C, Cianca J, Smith RN,Wang TJ, Roberts WO, Thompson PD, Baggish AL; Race Associated Cardiac Arrest Event Registry (RACER) Study Group.
Cardiac arrest during long-distance runningraces.
N Engl J Med. 2012 Jan 12;366(2):130-40.
Online at http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMoa1106468
With that off my chest, let me tell you about this morning's run. Up at 6, I went out for four fast 800m runs, with mile warm-up and cool-down, and quarter-mile recoveries. At first my legs would;t work, but I think I managed the fast sections tolerably well, even the first one, which was on an unlit rutted lane.
The art of swimming has little to do with progress through the water, and much to do with how to outwit one's fellow swimmers. I think I may have discovered the optimal time for a morning swim. At 7 am, when the pool opens, I feel like that Guards officer at Dunkirk who is supposed to have exclaimed, "My dear, the noise! And the people!". Go an hour later and it is very different.
So I accomplished 300m, as the endurance programme prescribed, in comfort, with only one or two other swimmers in the pool.
Day thirteen: best forgotten; I failed to do anything more arduous than a lot of driving
Day fourteen: first swimming coaching session of the new year. I started these a year ago and have come a long way. Though I cannot swim as far with front crawl as with breast stroke, it have improved no end, as has my back stroke. I have also essayed butterfly and tumble-turns, though both of these are a long way from fluency. For the record, today's sessions consisted of:
Day fifteen: a Sunday long run on a Sunday, out to Bo Peep and back. For the first couple of miles my legs were tired and it was an effort to make them move. The views out on the downs were glorious, though in the more exposed sections the wind blew chill and I was grateful for gloves.
Total this week: 20.64
Seven weeks to the Eastbourne half marathon
Thirteen weeks to the Brighton marathon
Up at 6, put on running kit, take blood pressure, measure peak-flow, take pills, use inhalers, drink some water, switch on Garmin, let cats out of cat flap, let self out of front door, run.
I ran for four miles round Seaford, dull bungalows, all on road, dark, warm, a few cars here and there. It's hard work, this third consecutive day of running. Towards the end dawn can be seen over Seaford Head. Home for porridge.
Yesterday I ran for three miles, today I tried to do three fast miles, with 400m recoveries and a warm-up and cool-down. Both were morning runs, yesterday's in the dark, today's as dawn broke, with Eos's rosy fingers over Seaford Head. It was the most beautiful clear bright morning. I made a hash of the Garmin, so had to guess when stages ended and finished, but I think I accomplished the aim.
Tomorrow I run four miles, again in the morning. So far, these early morning runs are not too difficult. I hope this will remain the case.