Race - AnnaTheApple

May 16, 2016October 28, 2016

The worst race of my life?

[This was meant to go out last week but I had Blog issues annoyingly]

Alton 10 on Sunday was fairly horrendous, and sadly I wasn’t alone in that opinion. I hasten to add that this was nothing to do with its organisation, the lovely volunteers or the race itself.

I’ve done the Alton 10 before, two years ago, and it was pretty much the same course. Funnily enough when I went back to read how it went it was from a post where I also claimed to have experienced the “worst race of my life” (I’m nothing if not dramatic I suppose). Though the race I was talking about was one of our club league races, an RR10, and not actually Alton 10.

It’s handy having a blog where you document your training and races because you can go back and refresh your memory on what a race was like. From my memory and the post, it sounded like I quite enjoyed it, though I wasn’t racing it then either. No the thing that made this race hideously horrendous was the weather. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved how beautiful and sunny the weather was all weekend but for running a 10 mile race that began at 10.30am it was tough indeed. I’d also eaten a small farmyard the day before at that BBQ restaurant…

Because the Cakeathon is looming ahead (last Bank holiday in May), I’m trying to get my long runs up again so I can attempt to do a fair number of laps (it’s a three mile lapped race where you have 6 hours to do as many as you like; laps = cake as well). Last weekend I did 10.5 miles so this weekend I wanted to do 13 miles so I got up early and ran three(ish) miles before leaving for the race.

It was handy to have these three miles beforehand so I could a) test the weather out and b) test my stomach out. I’d slept awfully and that was probably mostly due to the excessive quantities of meat eaten the day before. I felt like a BBQ was happening in my tummy all night. Anyway, the three miles went well but I realised quickly it was going to be a very warm race.

I decided to don the old crop top on for the first time this year, though I was a bit apprehensive as I didn’t feel quite my best after my few weeks of greediness indulgence post-marathon [side note: no I’m not saying I’m fat, I’m jut saying that I personally felt a bit fluffy].

I thought I wouldn’t fancy any breakfast before we left but I was actually really hungry. HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK? Bizarre. So I had a nice bowl of steaming porridge – perfect for the weather, I thought and my dad drove us to the race. I picked my bib up easily, went to the loo (an actual loo; hurrah for no portable toilets) and met up with some of the club while my dad headed off to a spot to spectate.

I chatted away to my friend, Sarah, on the start-line and realised I was thirsty already. She kindly gave me some of her water. And then we were off. My intentions were to use this simply as a long training run, aiming for a pace between 8-8.30min/miles. I knew the course was hilly so wasn’t going to stress if my pace edged closer to 9min/miles.

The first mile was pretty standard. I got into a nice groove and overtook a number of people. It was chip-timed but tricky to work out where to stand at the start so after a fair amount of overtaking I found a nice spot of people running a similar pace to me. The first mile is downhill so it was all very comfortable and la-di-dah.

(Photo credit: Alan DenmeadPhotos)

I saw my dad and he gave me a quiet “hello” which was slightly underwhelming, but given that the race was sparsely spectated and in the middle of some lovely, idyllic country roads on a Sunday morning I’m fairly glad he didn’t go mad with the cheering.

My dad actually made a GIF of me running – how cool is that?? I find GIF’s quite mesmerising…

Mile two hit and I was feeling HOT. There was limited shade and the sun was beating down hard. Urgh this was going to be a long old slog.

I managed to slowly crawl my way past a few people and tick along, but inside my head I was in my own personal hell. My face was hot, my quads were burning from the hills (not the sun thankfully) and I remember distinctly thinking “my legs never felt like this during the marathon”. And then later thought, as the sun seemed to sap every happy thought I’d ever had, “this is worse than the marathon”. I heard one girl really struggling saying to her friend, “I can run 10 miles no problem, just not in this temperature”. There were no happy vibes around.

My dad said even he noticed that the race felt very flat and people looked dejected. The heat was just making the race such hard work. The hills were relentless but that was to be expected. Downhills still sucked because of the sun. There were only three water stations which ordinarily in a 10 mile race wouldn’t be that bad, but in that temperature it wasn’t enough. Sensibly I stopped, literally stopped, at the water stations to drink a full cup of water and then take another to dump on my head. It revitalised me for a moment until I was hot and dry again.

I managed to get through the race by counting up the miles to mile five, and then counting back down again. The course goes out and comes back (albeit a different route) so you know when you’re heading back, which helped. I stared in wonder at a man running in a cotton t-shirt. Poor guy. Side note: I also saw a woman with four gels attached to her belt. Do you need four gels for a 10 mile race? I can sort of understand one if you really think you need it, but FOUR?

Not sure how I’m smiling…and the photographer was handily just after the water station, just after I’d poured water all over myself! (Photo credit: Alan DenmeadPhotos)

I didn’t push the pace, not that I could have done if I’d have tried! I felt comfortable with the pace but in terms of motivation and general happiness I was struggling. The last mile was horrendous. It was like someone had popped my balloon and I was slowly deflating. My legs were like blocks, which is odd because I hadn’t suddenly got faster or anything. I’d maintained a similar effort. I felt like I was crawling to the finish and the final hill right at the end all but ruined me. Then there’s a glorious little downhill and round the corner to the end.

Another GIF; a bit shaky and tricky to see me!

So yeah it was pretty tough. I couldn’t have imagined trying to race it. I think had I run at home I would have run slower and I’m chuffed with the effort levels involved because of the hills but realistically this race felt awful. My time was 1:20:20, with an average pace of 8min/miles. So not too shabby at all.

Everyone I spoke to found the race just as hard. There was a feeling of Post Traumatic Race Disorder floating among us as we all agreed it was the hardest race for a long while. It was nice to have people to share my pain with as sometimes in a race you have a bad one because of your own pacing or training, but to have everyone agree was nice – though obviously I’m not pleased everyone suffered like I did!

Kudos to the Scouts who were earnestly filling up people’s cups left, right and centre afterwards as well. You can see one behind me (IN A JUMPER AND FULL TROUSERS) in this photo. Bless him.

My hair is lovely and slick back due to the water I threw over myself during the race and obviously the sweat. Nice

But despite it probably being ridiculous hard, I’m glad I went. It was nice to be on the ‘racing scene’ again with my club mates. It made for a more interesting long run and would have been jut as hot at home anyway.

Nothing like getting a medal for a training run after all!

How do you stay cool during summer?

Have you ever suffered from ‘Post Traumatic Race Disorder’?

What races do you use gels in?

April 28, 2016October 28, 2016

Boston Marathon 2016

The expectation for this race was insane. The entire city was buzzing with anticipation. Every person I saw seemed to be involved somehow. Everyone knew it was happening and was excited. [Warning: another long post]

Like I said before, I was really nervous. Yes I had no time goals per se but I was genuinely worried about my hamstring (in true Anna fashion, there’s always something, right?). The tightness had popped up the week before and I could feel it when I stretched it. In any normal circumstance I’d have probably given myself a few days off…but I had an expensive race I needed to do. I was worried how it would fair over 26.2 miles. It was just a hint of a niggle, but what if all those miles turned it into a full blown injury?

Anyway, I was going to run it and see what happened. I decided to go for 3:40 and perhaps better if I felt good later on. I was confident with those paces – it wasn’t going too fast and should feel comfortable. I had my mile paces printed out and laminated (with Cellotape) that would be tucked into my sports bra (I’ve done this for previous marathons).

My alarm was set for just before 5am. I had a black coffee and got myself ready. I put on some throwaway clothes to keep warm (one of my dad’s hoodies and a pair of tracksuit bottoms I’d had since senior school!). My mum waved me off (she would be coming down later to stand somewhere on the course). I took my oats downstairs in a container. Handily the hotel had put on a tuck shop of breakfast items and coffee so I used some of that milk to create some cold porridge/gruel which I’d eat later in the race village (mmm…).

I bought a handy container from Tesco the week before

I caught the water taxi with a few other marathoners. I was probably too early as my (white) wave didn’t need to catch the shuttle buses until 6.45-7.20am but I wanted to get out there.

Early morning selfie before the taxi

We walked the mile to the common where the shuttle buses were waiting. It was all fairly easy. We had to make sure we were using clear bags and that our stuff fit into another plastic bag to make sure we weren’t taking too much to the race village (as there was a proper bag drop near the Common) and that security could see what we were taking. I had my phone, some nuun water, a banana, my gels and my porridge. There were security everywhere. You had to get your bag searched before going on the shuttle bus. But it was very well organised, like clockwork.So many yellow school buses lined up

I got on a bus and was off in no time, about 7am. I sat next to a girl from Chicago who I briefly chatted to. I was so nervous that I honestly didn’t fancy chatting too much and I think she felt the same. Instead I ended up listening to some girls behind me talk about all the track workouts they’d done. Joy. I wondered how I could sustain these nerves for another 3.5 hours…surely this can’t be healthy!

That bus ride was so boring. The roads were dull, there was nothing to look at and all I could think about was how bloody long it was taking us to drive away from the place we were going to run to. It was funny though to see so many school buses going in convoy along the motorway. It was also a novel experience to travel on an American school bus!

Finally we arrived about an hour later at the race village. I was in need of a wee and just wanted to get into the race village.

It was nice and sunny but still quite cool. I did my business and then found a piece of cardboard going spare to sit on and ate my porridge. The cardboard idea was a popular one and was easy to get as there were so many boxes of free bagels, bananas, Clif products and Gatorade that new boxes were being opened all the time. The grass was damp from the dew so this was a good plan. There was also free coffee. It was quite the buffet.

I found the one area where my phone picked up free WIFI and stood there for a bit checking up on social media, posting some pics and updates. It was so lovely to get so many well wishers and kind messages. I felt truly loved and buoyed. But it suddenly occurred to me how many people knew I was running and the pressure suddenly heightened. I also realised that as it was Monday lots of people might be bored at work and there was the tracker…

I decided to conserve my battery on my phone and laid down for a bit on my cardboard. It was now very sunny. People all around me were sitting or walking around or snoozing. This was like no other race I’ve been to in that everyone looked fast. Everyone was lean, prepared and focused. The vibe of the place was very different to other races. There were no fun runners here. Everyone had run a marathon before in order to qualify. And, to me, it seemed everyone was well-trained and ready to go-go-go. I felt so out of place. I know this sounds ridiculous as I earnt my place there like everyone else, but I honestly felt like I didn’t belong. I know not everyone was actually running for a fast time, but it definitely felt that way.

Eventually I thought I better go to the loo again. Good job as it took 40 minutes in the queue despite the obscene number of portable toilets! And I was just in time for when they called my wave to go to the start. Again, everything was super organised. And the place was full of police, military and sniffer dogs (and snipers on the roof!).

At this point I was really concerned with the weather. I kept my hoodie on as long as possible, not from the cold, but from the sun. It was beating down and I knew I needed to find some suntan lotion or I’d be in trouble. Luckily as my wave made our way to our corral at the start there was a collection of Vaselines, waters and suntan lotion bottles that people had kindly left behind before going to the start.

Lots of runners were stopping to use this pop-up facility and I joined in slathering myself with lotion.

Just before we headed down to our corrals there was another area of loos. Honest to god with the many, many loos in the race village I’ve never seen so many for one race. I knew I didn’t have the time (or patience) to queue up again but mentally I needed to be certain. I saw lots of people going over the material fence to some bushes to have a quick wee so I followed. There was nowhere to hide though. I say bushes but really I mean leafless branches. Girls just squatted down as best as they could and I will unashamedly say I joined them. Needs must! The funniest thing was that if I turned to look one way all I’d see were the men lined up to pee right in front of us. So many willies on display!

Anyway after that lapse in human dignity, I headed to the start feeling ready.

I hung about in my corral, doing my leg swings and dynamic stretches – more to calm my nerves than anything. It was hot. I was sweating already. Then we were off. I was actually that distracted by everything around me that I almost forgot to start my Garmin as I crossed the start line!

Miles 1-3: It was very crowded at the start but I didn’t really mind this as it kept my pace in order. I was surprised that people weren’t zooming off but I did get overtaken a fair bit. I kept in the middle of the road and felt happy. There weren’t a huge number of supporters but there were sprinklings of people cheering and people on their front lawns, set up for the day with chairs and drinks. It was full on downhill right from the start and I felt comfortable at my pace. But there were a few rolling hills as the initial miles tick by. I glanced at my pacing paper each mile to check where I should be for the next mile and it gave me a good indication of where the hills would be.

Miles 4-7: So far I’d been keeping nicely to my plan, though perhaps slightly quicker but I expected this. I heard one man suddenly gasp when he realised he accidentally turned off his Garmin by mistake instead of switching the screens and he hadn’t realised. I felt his pain – what a bummer! He was then in a dilemma as to what to do. I never found out…

I kept looking at my pace paper and felt on track but it was starting to feel really tough. It wasn’t supposed to feel as tough as this. I grabbed water from the aid stations (thankfully they were so regular) and began pouring one over my head and sipping the other. Annoyingly they were cups which meant drinking was tricky but I squeezed the top together so I could create a spout. I also had to dodge the Gatorades as they were always first (could you imagine if I accidentally dumped one of those on my head?? #sticky).

The course was fairly dull. As a non-American I wasn’t sure what was significant and what wasn’t. There were spectators along the way but not as many as I thought they’d be. As the course is pretty much a straight line to Boston you could occasionally seen straight out in front of you and the 1,000s of runners ahead. It was mentally tough to see that. I crossed over the 10k chip mat and thought how my time would ping back to my dad (I thought it was only significant markers. I’m thankful I didn’t know it was every mile as that might have freaked me out).

Miles 8-12: At this point I knew things weren’t going well. I was struggling. My hamstring was fine (just a tiny niggle barely noticeable) but my brain wasn’t happy. I was losing motivation fast. The heat was really getting to me and I was struggling with the paces. I heard a girl next to me say to someone else, “It shouldn’t feel this hard this early”. I was so thankful that someone else was feeling the strain like me. I realised the heat was affecting everyone (of course).

My piece of paper was difficult to read now as I’d sweated through to the ink. Then a gust of wind blew it away – I kid you not. I watched it fly over my shoulder and gave a little scream which scared a nearby runner. I briefly contemplated going back for it but realised it was for the best. My 3:40 (and definitely 3:35) goal weren’t going to happen. Now I just wanted to finish. I switched my watch to miles rather than the pace I was doing.

Water wasn’t helping and I wondered about Gatorade but knew that would be dangerous having never tried it and the thought of a sickly drink made my stomach heave.

I was in marathon hell. Nothing about the course was helping, there was no shade and I was quickly spiralling into a dark, dark place. I took my gel early in the hopes that it would perk me up and then decided “sod it” and put a podcast on. I needed something to take my mind off the race. I wasn’t enjoying the race and was having a mental battle with myself about stopping. But stopping would be a) embarrassing and b) I’d have no idea where the hell to go or what to do.

We then came into the Wesley area. I didn’t think it was this soon but suddenly there was a long (and I mean LONG) line of girls hanging over the barriers with bright red lipstick on screaming to be kissed. They had signs with funny messages and it took my mind off the race completely reading them. I’d heard about this before the race so it was fun seeing it live.

Just a small section (Source)

Their screaming was deafening. I found myself laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Some runners went over to have a quick peck and I even saw one guy get a selfie. It hugely lifted my mood.

Miles 13-16: Suddenly I was back in the groove. I was back in race mode and pulled myself together. This is BOSTON, I told myself. Don’t waste it. I saw a girl in the crowd handing out bottles of Vita Coco coconut water and I decided to grab one. Hands down this probably saved the race for me. The water was deliciously cold and tasty, and it perked me right up. I kept pouring water on my head at each water station but I kept that coconut water with me to sip on as I went on. Now I was just ticking the miles down until the hills would begin at Newton (mile 16). I saw a guy with a parkrun 50 shirt on and this made me smile too. I had my second gel.

Miles 17-21: I hit the first hill after a sharp decline and it was a long slog. It was tough but there was lots of support and I just remembered that after every hill there was a decline. I also envisaged myself running up my local hill. I could do this. I remember reading a sign saying “May the course be with you” with a picture of Yoda and this made me smile. Another said “Motivational message for people I don’t know”. Random but funny. And my personal favourite “If Trump can run, so can you”.

When I was at the race village my mum had text me saying she was on the left next to a fire station (I do love my mum’s vagueness). I had no idea where that was. I assumed it wouldn’t be early in the race but at best 17 miles onward. So I now spent lots of time searching the supporters for my mum and any fire stations (thankfully I wasn’t aware that she was actually about 800m from the finish…).

The hills kept coming but I didn’t really notice them. It broke the race up nicely and I found myself overtaking people who were walking or struggling. Amusingly I was only aware of Heartbreak Hill after I’d climbed it and saw a huge sign saying I’d conquered it. Personally I’d say the first hill was the hardest as it dragged on, Heartbreak was more of a sharp but shorter hill. I enjoyed the downhill and found my quads were fine (I’d be warned that your quads could seriously hurt on these later downhills) and felt giddy that I’d gotten past the worst of the race.

I grabbed a Clif gel from a volunteer at the energy station (this was always my plan as I only wanted to carry two gels). I realised it was Vanilla flavoured and that there were other flavours going so I picked up a few more and then made my selection (oh the luxury!). I went for Citrus in the end, and threw the other gels back to the energy people’s feet. I took it at mile 18 and it was gloriously tasty. Like lemon curd.

22-26 miles: Aside from Bournemouth, these miles have always been good for me. I felt I was almost home, I was running strong and was happy. There was a gentle breeze which had a lovely cooling effect. The crowds were thick. I finished the coconut water and ditched it. I raised my hands and smiled and this made the crowds louder (other people were doing this too, I wasn’t the only loon).

My only annoyance was a painful stitch in my side. I tried stabbing my side, breathing differently, putting hands on hips, stretching upwards…nothing shifted it. My only relief was bending over as I ran – this, I know, looked weird but it provided me with minutes relief after I did it. At this point in the race you do whatever you can to stay comfortable. I saw that famous Citgo sign in the horizon and smiled – finally another landmark I recognised.

We went under a bridge where the words “Boston Strong” were painted.

I took this photo on our last day when we drove back to the airport

And then it was time for the only two turns in the entire race, the famous: “Left on Hereford, right on Boylston” (I’d only heard about that the day before). And then the crowds were crazy. I pumped my arms and smiled and smiled. I could see the finish in the distance. Still so bloody far away but within my grasp. I felt strong and overtook people as I headed to the finish. And then it was done.

Finish: My time was 3:38:46. I am fully shocked by this – somehow I managed to get my goal despite giving up earlier and ignoring my watch.

I stumbled along, my hamstring now saying hello to me, it was very tight. And within minutes I had text messages off people saying congratulations and then my dad rung me. Blimey! I answered saying “I’ve finished! I did it!” and he goes “I know, it’s just said on the tracker. I’ve been tracking your every mile.” I blinked, my every mile!? Thank god I didn’t know that.

Looking behind at the finish line

I plodded along talking to my dad, telling him it was the hardest road marathon I’ve ever done. He replied that he could tell by my splits (thanks, Dad). He also said he could see from the TV coverage that it was a hot day and the elites struggled too. Hilariously my dad had said he’d already text my mum to tell her I was finished as she didn’t know. I got my medal and thanked every volunteer I came near. I was euphoric. I’d have probably given away half my savings to a charity at that point I was so glad to be finished.

After getting my medal I walked along to collect the various food items, a goody bag and water. I asked a kind volunteer to take my photo…

And then stumbled along to get a foil wrap. I wasn’t cold but I knew I would be soon.

I’d pre-agreed to meet my mum at the Prudential Centre which was such a good idea. I could see it because it was so big so I couldn’t get lost and it wasn’t too far away.

It seemed every single person I passed congratulated me. I got to the Prudential Centre, saw my mum and she ran towards me and grabbed me in a hug. She said, “I’m so proud of you! I saw you! You were smiling!” I hadn’t seen her, which is such a shame but I’m so glad she saw me. Apparently the lady next to her said, “How can she be smiling at this stage!?”

I almost cried hugging my mum but managed to hold it together. My dad is such a supporter of all my races and has seen so many and of course I know my mum supports me too but to have her there at a marathon and to be so happy for me, it was really very special. She always tries her best to come and support me but she worries about leaving their dogs for too long so she’s never seen me at a marathon. It was a lovely, lovely moment. She was so excited for me and buzzed by everything. It made my day as I was worried it would be a long, hard day for her that she would grin and bear it (as mothers do). But she was smiling from ear to ear.

We headed straight to the Barnes and Noble Starbucks where I could finally sit down, have a giant iced coffee and just absorb what had happened.

It was strangely quiet and peaceful in the shop, whereas outside was mental with runners and people. It was the perfect location to decompress. And the goody bag had an APPLE. A GLORIOUSLY CRUNCHY TASTY APPLE. It was absolute bliss. No apple has ever tasted that good. Big words.

It was definitely the hardest road marathon I’ve done, despite going into it without a time goal. My easy pace I’d planned didn’t feel easy – I’m assuming because of training through winter and than having a very sunny and warm race. It was definitely a fantastic experience. But not one I’d do again. I’ll save my reflections for another day!

How do you motivate yourself when you find yourself in a dark patch during a race/workout?

Would you prefer to train cold and race warm, or train warm and race cold?

The best thing to find in a goody bag is…?

April 7, 2016

Boston Marathon Goals

So my next marathon is the Boston Marathon, which is Monday 18th April. Less than two weeks away. I fly to Boston, with my mum, on the Friday (15th) beforehand, which should hopefully give me time to de-jet lag and acclimatise.

Source

I’m really excited. I’ve done big marathons before (Paris and Berlin) but never a US marathon. There are apparently going to be around 30,000 people running. I think Berlin was around 40,000 so I imagine it to feel similar. I will never be alone on the course and it’s like London in terms of supporters and crowds. I’ve never done London but I’ve heard it’s amazing. So yeah, I’m really excited.

When I PB’ed (3:24:06) and got my BQ in the Liverpool Marathon last year I thoroughly enjoyed myself but it was hard work and I was very much focused on getting a good time (for me). For Boston, I’m not aiming for a PB because a) I’m not in as good shape as I was before Liverpool and b) I’d quite like to enjoy the marathon and feel somewhat relaxed so I can take everything in.

Source

I’m not saying I’m not aiming for a PB to then secretly go out and smash a PB and be like “oh it just happened, didn’t I do well la di da”. No. I am literally not in that shape and as the course for Boston is quite challenging I would need to have the clear intention of going for a PB. I’m not the type of person to just go with whatever pace I fancy on the day. I am a Type A personality and will have paces written down that I aim to stick close to (as I have done in previous races). I just haven’t decided exactly what my time goal is right now.

Source

The Boston marathon is somewhat undulating – long downhills and short, sharp uphills throughout the course which can “trash your legs”. The first four miles are downhill. I’ve been advised by everything I’ve read and heard to NOT just go off flying at a ridiculous pace “banking time” as this would then ruin my quads and kill me later on when I hit the four clustered hills from mile 16 to mile 21 (this includes the Heartbreak Hill). Handily, I found a very cool pace calculator from the Runners Connect website which takes into account all the undulations and gives you paces to stick to in order to reach a certain time goal.

I’ve plugged in four different time goals: 3:45, 3:40, 3:35 and 3:30. Despite saying I have no time goals, I’ll be honest, if I go over 3:45 I’ll be disappointed. If I go anywhere near 3:30 (8:01 pace) I’ll be really pleased. I just need to think sensibly about how I’m feeling as I get closer. I’ve been running most of my long runs around 8 minute/miles but the undulations of this course (especially being so far through the race) make me doubt my ability to have that pace as an average. In all likelihood I’m probably going to aim between 3:40 and 3:35. I see those range of paces as achievable (8:12-8:23 min/miles).

My big fear is the weather as last year’s weather was awful. I don’t mind a cold start, I just don’t want relentless rain and/or wind. I’ve done that for other races but never for a whole marathon. I’d like it to be enjoyable and I’m not sure almost four hours of rain and wind could make that possible! But you can’t control it so there’s no point worrying.

My absolute number one goal is TO NOT GET INJURED. I am scared that, despite my training going really well (bar one foot niggle that lasted a week due to poor trainer choice), I could have an injury crop up during the marathon randomly like I had in Bournemouth. I just hope that for Bournemouth it was because I had done too much beforehand and hadn’t really done structured training or had a pace strategy. Who knows. But saying all this, I do want to finish Boston so if I do get injured, it could get ugly.

Anyway, my bib is 13445. Feel free to track my progress on race day if you’re bored on that Monday. There are ways to track athletes I believe HERE (I’m not that self-obsessed to think you all will, I just know this for my dad as he’s not coming!). I start in the second wave at 10.25am (3.25pm British time), which I’m quite happy with (though I do have to catch the shuttle bus to the start at 6.45am and made me have major anxieties about what the hell and when the hell I’m going to have for breakfast).

And that’s that. I’ll be packing about five different race outfits for different weather scenarios (I’m sort of joking…), old clothes to wear at the start and keeping my trainers in my carry on luggage…just in case. And my passport has stayed far away from my washing machine

Have you ever done a US marathon?

How would you pace Boston?

When and what do you eat for breakfast before a marathon? I just feel like 6am will be far too early for breakfast but this causes me issues about having porridge.

April 6, 2016

The Nitty Gritties–The Taper

For a lot of people who are currently training for a marathon, now is the time that the taper is happening. You’ve done the big scary miles and you’ve just got to survive until the big day.

Tapering is basically when you cut back your total weekly mileage by 20-25% approximately three weeks out from race day (e.g. if you are running 40 miles, you’ll drop to 30-32 miles). Then two weeks out from race day you drop down another 20-25% (24ish miles). Then when you hit the week of the race you’re just ticking over on a lot lower mileage to keep your body fresh for the big day.

You usually start tapering just after you’ve done your last big run, and usually the longest run you’ll do in the entire training. For a lot of people this might be anywhere between 18-24 miles. Then the following weeks your long run will drop down, probably not going over 16 miles.

For me, my last long run was 18.6 miles (I didn’t go over this as I didn’t fancy running 20 miles or above as I know how injury prone I am). Then the week after my next long run was 16 miles (last weekend), then 13 miles and then race day. I’ve tried this previously and it’s worked well. Some people like to drop down to 10 or even eight miles the week before and this is fine, whatever works for you! The intention is that you’re just maintaining everything you’ve worked hard for and letting your body freshen up ready for the race.

“During the taper, it is most important to remember this: physiological adaptations to training take a minimum of six weeks. Therefore, training hard during the final two to three weeks before your marathon is not going to improve your performance.” Runner’s World [Source]

Tapering sounds positively delightful when you’re in the thick of your heavy mileage and tiredness. But when you actually get there it can be a bit of a shock. You suddenly seem to feel rubbish. Niggles start cropping up – does my knee twinge? Why does my hamstring feel tight? And you feel so tired. Normal runs during the week can feel hard-work. I find myself struggling to run six miles and wondering how the hell I’m going to go 20 miles further.

This is NORMAL. Your body has just been put through a rather intense amount of running and training for the past few months. It’s suddenly taking a breath and adjusting to everything it’s gone through. This does not mean you’ve suddenly lost everything. This taper madness happens to most of us!

Don’t be tempted to squeeze in some more miles because your weekly mileage suddenly looks a lot less. And don’t try and whack up the intensity to compensate for the less miles. Keep things exactly the same intensity-wise but just reduce the number of miles you’re running. Keep doing the intervals, hill training and speed sessions; just shorten them.

And whatever you do, don’t try and make up for any lost training runs you might have missed previously. There’s not much you can do about it now. It is FAR better to turn up to a marathon undertrained than over-trained, or worse, injured. Give your body the benefit of the doubt – if you’ve managed to do most of your training without a huge number of weeks of no-running you should be fine.

On race day you’ll be pumped up, adrenaline-fuelled and ready to go. You don’t want to shuffle up to the start-line tired and over-worked. Ideally you’ll feel fresh and full of pent-up energy due to your lower mileage. The marathon is the victory lap – you’ve done the hard work.

Food-wise, just keep everything the same. If you want to carb load and have some experience with it before previous races, then go for it. But if you’ve never done it before don’t start loading up on pasta for every single meal leading up to the race. You don’t want to feel bloated or cause digestion issues. You honestly don’t need to pack your body silly with carbs. Normal balanced meals are perfectly fine. Your body usually has enough glycogen in the muscles to get you through, so just make sure you eat sensibly leading up the race. Do nothing different to what you’ve done before. The night before the race have a good-sized meal that you’ve tried and tested.

And remember, DO NOT panic. You’ve done the hard part. The mind is a very powerful thing. Even if your training hasn’t been exactly what you hoped, mental determination can do absolute wonders. My first two marathon trainings were plagued with injury, but I still got through with the help of sheer determination and belief that I could do it. There will always be other people who have had worse training than you and will still finish. You CAN do this.

Have you ever suffered from taper madness?

When do you do your longest marathon training run?

Do you carb load for races? I tend to stick to normal meals all week and then have a shop-bought pizza the night before if I can

April 4, 2016

Rants and Raves #29

Instead of doing my usual weekend catch-up post I thought I’d start off Monday right with a good old rant and raves post.

Rave: I never really used to be one for buying stuff around the house. But now that I live on my own I’ve really gotten into the swing of making it a home and somewhere cosy and that I love being. I’ve really been enjoying buying bits and pieces. My recent purchases have been cushions. Now I never used to be a cushion person because, let’s be honest, they don’t do anything. You don’t really use them on the sofa (well I don’t…I kind of move them out the way) and you certainly don’t sleep on them. They are purely for decorative purposes (some may say superfluous home items…but then, what’s a picture on the wall?)

So I went a bit cushion mad and bought a load from Next Home no less (!!) and some really fancy bedding.

Incidentally the rectangular cushion is actually from M&S and my mum gave it to me. She loved that I was getting so into sprucing up my home and wanted to help, bless her. I mean, the bed would clearly look awful without that final small rectangular pillow, am I right?

Rant: The bed now longer to make in the morning.

Further bed-related rant…: I washed the bedding and my bottom sheet so it would be all lovely and fresh for that night. However my stupid washing machine-come-tumbler dryer did a half-hearted dry (or what really happened is I didn’t put it on to dry for long enough…) and parts of the bottom sheet were still slightly damp and I didn’t realise until I was making up the bed just before I was going to go to sleep.

So I had to improvise a bit…

It worked but it took bloody ages.

Rave: My Boston pack came in the post!

This is all very exciting. I pick up my bib when I’m out there at the Expo (which I guess should be quite good!). I go to Boston with my mum in less than two weeks – Friday 15th to be precise. The marathon is on the Monday. NO PANIC. So far I’ve survived marathon training (*touch wood*).

Rant: I know runners aren’t huge fans of dog walkers and dogs during a run. Even I, a dog owner, get annoyed at some people’s lack of awareness and control of their dog. However, as a regular runner and a regular dog walker I do think there should be a bit of give and take from both parties. No one owns the pavement – it’s shared. When I walk Alfie I try my hardest to keep him under control, pick up his poo, and not be the annoying long lead person. I just wish that a local runner near me would also be as considerate.

She runs every single morning in loops around the park where a lot of dog walkers walk their dogs. When I first moved in I tried so many times to say good morning and engage a bit of smiling and politeness. She point blank ignored me. So I’ve given up. She gives Alfie such a look of disdain as well – like how dare he be there. This morning I was walking on the left side of the path and Alfie was on his long lead also to the left (normally he’s running free but it was a bit wet). I saw her coming towards me also on the left and, because I had Alfie on the left too, I assumed she’d move to the right WHERE THERE WAS ENOUGH SPACE TO PATH. She just ran at me and then tried to run past me on the left and then saw Alfie’s lead and had to do a big arc around it on the grass. She looked so annoyed. It’s not like she couldn’t have seen 100 metres ahead of her and moved slightly to the right to make life easy for herself. It just annoys me that she expects all dog walkers to give her priority. It’s a shared park!!

Rave: parkrun at Netley Abbey was beautifully sunny this Saturday.

And we were on the normal course again – with only three hills! I was glad to have my shorts and t-shirt on (arms out for the first time in ages!). Sadly my legs felt rubbish during the run. This was probably because I was too busy chatting rather than doing any sort of warm up before.

(Photo credit: Ken Grist)

I got 22:06 and third female which is the best I’ve done at Netley in a while (August last year!) – though it is the easier course. I did manage a fairly good negative split though so I’m happy with that!

Rave: Seeing some lovely little ducklings in the little nearby lake near my home.

Where I walk Alfie is just full of wildlife and birds, it’s lovely.

Rant: This is how my work deal with health and safety issues:

Potentially trip risk due to cables coming out of the floor? Totally fine, just put a chair with a printed out sign over it. It’ll be fiiiiine.

It concerns me that this entire post has nothing about food in it…this is odd for me. I did enjoy some good ribs at the weekend, but are you surprised…?

How was your weekend?

Dog walkers and runners…opinions?

Do you enjoy decorating your home?