Still on track for "The Marco Challenge" of running every day in December. As previously mentioned, I'm following Marco's November task of running at least three miles (or 25 mins) every day. In hindsight we should have called in the Marcothon - minimum of 2.62 miles or 26.2 mins. Maybe that could be January's challenge. Although I fully intend on sitting with my feet up on New Year's Day. But don't quote me on that.
Seems like there's quite a following. So far there's Sharon, Anita, Keith, Fiona, Pauline, Andy L, Karin, Deb C, Ailsa, Mark, Euan, and - obviously - Marco and I. Is there anyone I've missed?
So, this week:
Monday: Recovery run round Balloch (This doesn't count as it was still November) Tuesday: 8 mile southside tempo run (ave 7.48) Wednesday: 5.5 with warm up and 10 x one minute intervals Thursday: 5.9 mile club run (ave 8.07) Friday: 5 mile strides in Glasgow Green Saturday: 18.5 Home to Balmaha - via WHW (ave 10.26)
Today I ran from home to Balmaha - over the Balloch horseshoe and onto to West Highland Way - with Sharon. I'm loving running with her every weekend of late. We're a really good pace for each other - and we gibber like budgies all the way round. As you can by the elevation chart below, it's tad hilly. Quite pleased to average 10.26 m/m over the 18.5m route.
Maybe it's the oxygen to the brain, but the Sharon-isms are starting to surpass the Marco-isms. To set the scene, Sharon suffers from excruciating painful hands in the cold. She hasn't been diagnosed with Raynard's, but she's as good as. Who would run with gloves in the height of summer? Granted it's not exactly tropical, but you get my drift. Anyway her new theory (passed on from another) is that it could be driving on bumpy roads that has affected the nerves on tips on her fingers. Apparently it's quite common with workers using drills and diggers. Her words "the tips are destroyed with overuse of vibrating tools". When I suggested that might be something she keeps to herself, it took a wee while for the penny to drop :-)
I'm going to take The Marco Challenge and run every day in December. Not sure why, as it wasn't even a wine-fuelled decision. Marco (that's his real name, in case any readers think my husband's name is actually Sonic!) has informed me that the only rule is that the distance/time must be at least three miles or 25 minutes.
Anyone care to join me? It's not a competition. Just a personal challenge. Or an incentive to burn off a few mince pies. So far I two recruits: One willing (Anita) and one not-so-willing (Euan).
So today I did an eight mile tempo at lunchtime (ave 7.49). That's one day down, 30 to go. I think hogmanay has a new-found appeal. Next rest day? Next year.
I have friends who run barefoot or with books in a backpack. They run races backwards: In the dark and in the height of winter. There is one who turns up the heating and cycles (obviously on a stationary bike) in various layers of clothing, so he's prepared for a hot race day. Even though he lives in Scotland! Many run back-to-back days or split sessions, just to make sure they are completely f*cked! And many run on empty so their body is prepared to, er, run on empty. Some throw themselves off hills, knowing they will probably shed some blood on their hurtling descent. And many partake in the mind-boggling pursuit that is cross-country running.
So really, was my run to work on Friday morning really that "mental"? OK, it's an 18 mile journey and I had to start at 6am. It was a dark, cold and wet on a mind-numbing route along the A82...and I still had a day's work to do at the other end. But on the grand scale of things, I think it was positively normal. So when I arrived in the office, red-faced and lycra clad, a few heads popped over computer screens. When asked where I'd run from, I merely replied "home" only to be greeted with vacant stares. Before their eyes rolled back down behind the screens.
The only reason I did my long run on Friday was because I was going to Oban with my Sis and Sharon on Saturday. I must admit I felt quite smug knowing I had not only done my daily run before work. But I had also done my weekly long run. Double bonus.
Friday night involved pampering and preening prior to the girlie weekend. Including fake tanning - even though the weather forecast was close to freezing. I wanted to do a recovery run on Saturday morning, but I couldn't bothered to wash off my fakers first. I'm all for cleanliness, but three showers in one day is a bit extreme. So I was up before 6am to sprackle round Balloch before the sun came up.
We headed off just after 1pm. All equally fake-tanned up. It was like a traffic-cone road trip :-) The weather was fabulous. Crisp, sunny and very still. We stayed in a superior suite at the Columba Hotel - complete with sea view. It was total luxury. We had dinner at a fabulous Italian on the north pier, visited a few drinking dens, giggled and gossiped (put the world to right) and were back in our jammies before shutting time.
Happy St Andrew's Day everyone. It's great to be Scottish! From the country that brought us the telephone, television, steam engine, bicycle, penicillin...and Susan Boyle!!
There were quite a few comments on my previous post regarding the picture of Ian. I had to laugh at the mid-air hand embrace. He must have been thinking "I don't have enough antibac hand gel to disinfect if I touch these two" :-) :-)
Hi folks, Sorry it's been a while. I have started many posts, but never got round to finishing them. Shame I can't say the same about a bottle of wine :-) Anyway here's a summary (a combination of half-baked posts) of the life o' Debs over the last week (s) or so.
Saturday, November 14.
If it wasn't for the fact that I was meeting Ian and Sharon on Saturday morning for a WHW run (Milngavie to Balmaha), I could have easily been persuaded into having a PJ day. It was wet 'n' wild and I felt a little out of sorts.
The topic of conversation was always going to be that week's "incident". One flippant, tongue-in-cheek blog posting and Ian's character and intent was questioned and scrutinised. Thankfully everyone who knows or has met him would agree he's a top-notch, thoroughly decent guy. How could a man who carries hand gel to disinfect his hands after an al fresco comfort break possibly have a malicious bone in his body? :-) Even if his name was marked, he had the two red-heads from Ayrshire there to protect him. Well, Sharon could have talked them to death :-)
Although the weather wasn't great, we had a fab day out. The rain was pretty consistent apart from a dry spell from the Beech Tree Inn when we were wading through knee deep (that's thigh deep for Sharon) puddles anyway.
As you will no doubt know, long runs are always a game of peaks and troughs. I had quite a few more troughs than normal. You know you're in good company when I yelped "Jeez I'm totally bonking" and no one bats an eyelid. Thankfully I had an emergency gel to save the day. Next time, I'll be back to my ol' faithful jelly babies though.
Arriving in Balmaha, where Sonic had kindly "volunteered" to pick us up, we were sodding wet and mankie. I have to admit, I was slightly broken as well. And sitting in the car in wet clothes back to Milngavie didn't help. I felt pretty rubbish for the rest of the day and couldn't face food until about 8pm. Then I was spewing during the night, so I guess I had a bit of a bug. Not a bug with hands and feet before you ask!
W/c November 16
I took a couple of days off and then did a 8 mile tempo on Tuesday (ave 7:47), 500 reps on Wednesday and a club run on Thursday (ave 7:59). On Friday I went out with Johnston's Joggers (I think this could stick, Mark) to do strides on Glasgow Green's football pitches. This time I arranged to meet Sonic et al there, as there was no danger of me doing my 10K pace to keep up with them.
Sunday I was out with Sharon for 14 miles around the Balloch Horseshoe. Sharon usually describes her routes as "a bit bumpy" or "challenging". I described this one as: "It starts off very hilly and then gets less very hilly". The weather was favourably to start, but then the wind and rain picked up. The last few miles were a case of heads down and think happy thoughts. A cracking run and considering the gradients we were happy to average 8.40 m/m.
This week (yay, I'm up-to-date!)
This week the wind will be playing havoc on a lot of people's training. Yesterday I did a seven mile tempo round the west end (ave 7:55). Considering I didn't get to sleep until 4am, courtesy of small child with a cold, I really enjoyed my run - in the style of JK.
Cairn (and Sonic for that matter) pretty much slept through the night, and I was awake listening to little grunts coming from his room. And then would freak out when I didn't hear little grunts. He kept coughing himself awake and in the end I sent Sonic to the sofa and brought Cairn in with me. Now I know why his cot is back-to-front and inside-out in the morning. I've never seen so many involuntary body movements in my life. I was walloped in the head, karate-chopped in the face, kicked in the stomach. Next time, I bagsy the sofa.
This morning I got up well before the sun to do my reps, so I could do some Christmas shopping at lunchtime. 20 x step reps in Kelvingrove park. Big tick. Three new tops for me. Fail. Oh well, must try harder.
Phew! That's it folks. I'm off for a wee lie down...
I survived my first hill race! Well, I nearly never started it. I was so wet behind the ears, I turned up without all (eh, actually any) of the necessary equipment. Apparently according to Scottish Hill Running rules all participants must carry waterproofs, compass (yeh, like I can navigate), whistle, map..yada yada. After a brief panic, Sharon gave me her spare waistpack (only Sharon would have a spare waistpack), and I tied my jacket round my waist for a) waterproof and b) hide the fact there was he-haw in the pack. Well apart from a small bottle of cherry juice - also courtesy of Sharon. With the stamp "perfect for lunchboxes" I doubt it would have saved me in an emergency. Personally, given the size of the hill (1500ft) and a 4.4 mile route, I didn't think any equipment would be necessary. Thankfully there wasn't a kit-check.
Like most races, it was all a bit frantic at the start. Sharon and I had gone up to the front to wish Sonic luck and struggled to get back through the crowds into a more comfortable zone. We settled somewhere in the middle - with wee Sharon armpit deep in hairy hill runners :-) After the gun I was nearly taken out in the stampede, but it calmed down within a mile - when I was resigned to a stomp. I started passing quite few runners on the way up. One comedy moment was when I passed a bloke and he got all testosterone-y and decided to "run" passed shouting "runner through"... for him to stop and walk and I had to pass him again.
The 35 minute ascent was pretty brutal, especially as I was barely halfway up when the winners came tumbling down. The 15 minute downhill was fabulous though. I think I must have caught about 10 runners. I finished in 50:37, which was way better than my sub one hour target. Sonic was 90th in 41:58 and Sharon finished in 52:03.
Thanks for Mama Sonic for coming along to provide mobile babysitting services, car watching, jacket holding and photography. Especially the above picture of me at the finishing line with a super-serious face.
On Sunday, a gang of us did the Kilpatrick Hill Route. Me, Sharon and all the boys cross-bred with mountain goats. I had managed to talk Jill, Mo and Anita into coming along, but they turned up in shiny new trainers. Big mistake. Huge. It was a chilly day, but the sun was out in force. Perfect. We all had piled on far too many layers, so after that initial 1.5 mile ascent there were more red faces than an AA meeting. Before the boggy bit, the girls turned back down the trails to save their trainers. I'm not sure they took it seriously enough as later that day I saw pictures of them on facebook posing against beautiful backdrops!
I was totally and utterly filthy by the end - courtesy of falling flat out about three times - but loved every minute of it. A great day out on lovely hills on a beautiful day with fabulous people. I almost hugged a tree at the end.
On Monday I went for 4.5m recovery . It was less of a recovery from hard training and more of a recovery from working at home all day with a crawling baby. Especially a crawling baby who favours electrical wires, doors and sharp implements over anything made by Fisher Price.
Tuesday I did an 8 mile tempo (average 7.35m/m), Wednesday morning was 800m reps (3.00, 3.01, 2.59, 2.52 and 2.51) and Thursday was a 6.7m run round the west end with the club (average 8.17). I had to get the stats off Emma, as I messed up my Garmin. When I tried to sort it on the way home, I was alarmed to see that the watch wasn't picking up the distance. Sonic saved the day and said "you told it you were inside". Doh! Dashing my hopes of justifying a purchase of the Garmin 310XT. I think we're the only people in the world trying to break our Garmins. Given my track record with Garmins (and ipods for that matter) the smart better's money is on me winning.
Today I'm having a rest day - after running 10 days in a row. Which loosely translates as I shop instead of running.
On Tuesday I bit the bullet and went out with Sonic's "fast boys" lunchtime session. Do you know the scene from Pretty Woman when Vivian walks into the shop and says: "Big mistake. Big. Huge"? Somehow I couldn't get that out of my head. Not the being a hooker bit, but more that I was potentially out of my depth. It was eight miles along the canal and then back along the Kelvin Walkway (my favourites!!). They were sauntering along at recovery pace and I was bleeding out of my eyes. After a circuit round the hills in Kelvingrove Park, I was finished. I returned to the office covered in mud and practically foaming at the mouth. I was surprised that I was 40 seconds per mile SLOWER than my usual tempo run. I think I'm the only runner in the world who runs faster on solo runs!
On Wednesday, I went out for some pre-work 800m reps. I was up at 5.30am to get all Cairn's stuff organised for nursery. Bottles made, breakfast out, lunch ready, clothes laid out, spare clothes packed. Sonic lacks multi-tasking skills, so I thought my helping-hand would see him right in the morning. How he was actually TWO HOURS late for work is beyond me. I called at 8am and was assured that Cairn was fed and dressed. Then a couple of hours later there was a panic call from Sonic saying that he had got to the nursery without Cairn's daypack, so had to do a 40+ mile round-trip home to pick it up. Yes folks, this was the boy who called me "a wee bit scatty" a few days ago. Think I'll get some mileage out of this.
Last night, we were out for the Garscube club run. Yep, running through Maryhill on Bonfire Night will certainly put a spring in your step. There was a running lecture organised for after the session, so it was a sharp start and not-so-long distance. We were splits into three large groups - which I'm guessing were the remedial class, distinctly average and the nerds.
It was a fairly easy 5.5 mile route - with a few nasty hills for good measure. Even our middle group broke up quite quickly and I was in a pack of about eight. Most of whom are usually in faster packs than me. I'm used to running alone or with a couple of people, so I found it quite crowded. Especially with obstacles to maneuver, pavements and potholes. It was hard to judge where my feet were going. Or maybe my brains a bit slow on the up-take these days. Plus it was dark and the wet leaves made it quite slippery underfoot. Anyway I don't know how it happened, but it somehow turned into a race. One person pushed the pace, we followed, we all knew we were going to fast, but no one gave up. I ended up at the back of the group hanging on for dear life...but the wheels feel off after about four miles. Thanks to Anna for hanging back and pretending she was equally gubbed. I was spent at the end, but felt great. Sometimes it's good to push yourself out of your comfort zone.
I wasn't back in my comfort zone for long, as I went out again with Sonic's lunchtime crew today. A "strides" session. Which was billed as "easy" and "perfect for pre-race training". Yep, they jogged along on the two mile warm-up out to Glasgow Green...and I was doing my 10K pace. Diagonal strides across a water-logged football pitch. Well they bounded across like a gazelles...and I stumbled behind like a Fraggle being chased.
So tomorrow is the Tinto Hill Race. I know it's going to be seriously competitive, so anything above coming in last would be a bonus. First rule of racing: Never try out new gear. Yep, my shiny new fell shoes are still in the box.
The trick was testing out the route of next week's Tinto Hill Race. And the treat was "having" to buy new shoes for the occasion. But the cutest Halloween delight was my boy in his fancy dress for his nursery party.
On Friday, whilst Cairn was off enjoying his first e-number feast, Sonic and I went out to Biggar for a recce on Tinto Hill.
As previous stated (probably numerous times) I am not a fan of the unknown. I prefer routes I'm familiar with. Plus, I'm slightly nervous about participating in my first hill race. Mostly because I'm slightly nervous about taking the wooden spoon. I thought a recce would help me feel a little more prepared. Not that it will help with the distinct lack of talent.
I will always be in awe of people who can run up those inclines. I don't think running makes me go any faster, but boy does it take a lot more out of me. At the first sign of a steep gradient I was reduced to a stomp. Actually we pretty much walked all the way up.
I quite like running down hills (is there anyone who doesn't like a good downhill? Doubt it) but my trails shoes weren't gripping on the muddy slopes and wet rocks. I felt I was breaking and jerking a lot, so I knew my quads were going to be shot.
What was supposed to be a nice morning jaunt, turned into a race to break the hour. Finished in 59:58. How's that for close? 42 mins up and 17 to get back down.
Cue the new shoes...Run-4-It at the Tiso Outdoor Centre were having a Inov-8 day. I took that as a sign :-) A very helpful and thoroughly knowledgeable chap helped me with my shoe choice. A tried on a few models and a few sizes, but settled for the x-Talon 212.
When I got to cashdesk to pay for my shiny new shoes, the assistant lent towards me and said "the guy who helped you is the owner of Inov-8" Well, if you want some expert advice you may as well go straight to the top. After a google search, it was indeed Wayne Edy the founder and MD of Inov-8. If I had known at the time, I would have got a pic for the blog.
Yesterday morning, I went out with some of the Garscube gals - Jill, Maz, Emma and Anna for a long slow run. It was the first time I had met them for a weekend run, as logistically it's a bit of a nightmare. Sonic had to get up at 5.30, to do his run with John!
I had to make a detour to buy some Deep Heat for my quads, but arrived on time for the 9.30 kick-off. Jill and Maz were running a bit late. Jill texted to say Maz was having car problems. The fact that Maz can't actually drive begs a fews questions %-) On arrival I mocked them about it not being a handicap race, but we all set off about 9.45. There was no mad rush to get going though, as Glasgow was experiencing monsoon conditions. Which held up for the whole day.
The original route was an out and back to the Erskine Bridge - along the canal. It didn't take much to convince them that a circular course round the southside was a better option. It was a great run and time went passed really quickly. It was a momentous occasion when Jill (who calls me One-pace Debs) suggested that I might be pushing the pace a bit too quickly. I could retire on that comment.
I did have to laugh when Maz said "you know you're out with Debs, when we seem to have been going for ages but making no sign of turning back".
I didn't need to look out the window to assess the weather situation. I could hear it trying to put the windows in. Perfect for exercising the what-doesn't-kill-you-makes-you-stronger theory. The wind was howling and the rain was torrential, but I was still looking forward to my long run with Sharon. It was in her neck of the woods, so she was in charge of route choice. Something which she described as "refreshingly hilly". She added to my sceptecism by saying: "you will have forgiven me by the downhill finish". Highly unlikely consdering she lives at the top of a big bloody hill.
The weather hadn't improved any by the time we set out. Considering the conditions, I had pushed the boat out and put on my snazzy arm-warmers. Sharon, on the other hand, had on more layers than a pass-the-parcel prize.
The all-road route was indeed "refreshing hilly". 1500ft of ascent actually. Same on the descent though, but it never seems to balance out does it. The wind was pretty fierce and the rain had turned the roads into rivers, but it didn't dampen our spirits.
Heading towards the final ascent, Sharon warned me to "take in easy going up, it's longer than your think". No sh*t. I remember hanging out (basically loitering) at the foot of the hill in my younger years. At time it looked like a mountain. Actually it was the bottom of said hill that Sharon and I first met. Little did we know that 20 years later we'd be racing each other up it.
17 miles. Ave 8:56.
Congratulations to John and Lesley on the (somewhat delayed) arrival of little Alexandra. Another running thoroughbred. Although her genes are a little faster than Cairn's genes. Mummy runs a 36m 10K and Daddy jogs round in 32. Watch this space.
Also congratulations to Brother Sonic who got through the auditions for Total Wipe-Out. He's off to Argentina next month. I'll keep you posted when it's on the TV. Unless, of course, he gets wiped out in the first round :-)
Saturday, October 17: Out and back - Tyndrum to Beinglas. Approx 25 miles.
I had a crackin' run up until about 18 miles. Felt brilliant and really enjoyed the steady pace, lots of chat and the beautiful autumn day.
I stupidly let my guard down, tripped on a rock and went flying. My knees took the brunt of it. But I managed to bruise my right hip and shoulder in the process. Where were you with the camera then, eh Davie?
You know you're a real runner when despite rolling about in the dirt, screaming like a banshee and swearing like a drunken sailor...I managed to lift my shaking hands to stop my watch :-)
After assessing the situation, I realised that I couldn't go on. Although there was no spraining, I was having serious bother bending my knees. Sharon continued on the six mile track to get to the car, and I headed down into Crianlarich - where she was going to pick me up.
Although it was nice sunny day, it was certainly fresh. I was sitting on the side of road contemplating hypothermia, when the voice of angel shouted: "Debs, do you want a lift?" Not quite an angel, but Brian Garry. After a series of ungraceful moves to get off the pavement, I hobbled across the road and into the back of the car. I know I'm a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, but it took me about five minutes to realise that Brian had hitched. I thought the driver was one of the group. Poor guy. Not only had he made the mistake of stopping to pick up a sweaty runner. He had to stop and pick up his sweaty runner pals en route :-) Thankfully he had god on his side as there was about four different versions of the bible on the backseat next to me. Bizarre, I know.
It wasn't long before Sharon appeared, armed with bottles of Coke. I was still pretty cold, so jumped into the back of the car to get changed. My second screaming session of the day was when Davie appeared at the window to see how I was. I think he got more of a fright than I did though! He was certainly having a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time-day, as five minutes later he drove passed Sharon standing in her bra!
When I got home, Sonic had indeed been out shopping and was in charge of dinner making duties. I should blog that more often. His signature dish - tuna steaks and spinach. He doesn't get to exercise his culinary skills very often - mainly because I'm a control freak - but it was damn good!
Sunday was pretty much a right off, as bending my knees was pretty tough. I spent the day going up and down the stairs on my bum...and trying to master the art of peeing standing up! :-)
When the big black bruises appeared Sonic said: "Ah, I actually believe you now".
After Saturday's "disappointing" performance (I'm over it now) I managed to cheer myself up over a few glasses of vino (give or take a bottle) at the Crazy Germans' soiree. Neal - did Dean Karnazes ever come back to you regarding his invite to run the WHWR? Facebook + Alcohol = something that's a good idea at the time.
Despite feeling a little rough on Sunday morning (must have been Thomas' cooking!?) I still felt quite up for a long run. Sonic and Euan had been out from 7am, so it was after 9am before I started my run. I'm sure Cairn is starting to feel like a relay baton. My aim was 14 miles, but I would have been happy with 10. After a few miles (all up hill) I got into my stride and was really enjoying the country run on a lovely Autumn morning. I went for the 14 mile (Balloch horseshoe, Croftamie rd, Gartocharn, horseshoe, Balloch) and finished in 1:59 with average pace of 8:33
(If that start doesn't raise your heart rate nothing will)
I took Monday off, as I had a lot of work to do. And on Monday night we went to see Billy Connelly at the SECC. What an outstanding evening that was. I even managed to sneak a bit of footage - but I'm struggling to upload it just now. It is not for the easily offended. Or obese for that matter.
On Tuesday I did 800m reps* round the Squiggley Bridge - only in Glasgow would you get bridges officially called the Squiggley and Squinty Bridge. Wednesday was a 8-mile tempo** run. And last night I was out with the club.
Tomorrow I'm joining the Glee club for a WHW run. Tyndrum to Beinglas and back, which is about 25-26 miles. Can't wait, as the weather looks perfect. Hopefully I'll be home in time for X-Factor and Sonic will have made my dinner ready and chilled a bottle of wine. Hey a girl can dream.
One of the funniest (baring in mind I have a sick sense of humour) things I read this week was one the hacks in my office's facebook status "...police can comfirm that Louis Walsh received a letter stating that for every week John and Edward stay in X-Factor, a Boyzone member will die."
Surely the little annoyances that they are will leave tomorrow night? The only saving grace is that at least some talented didn't get booted last week instead. Stacey to win!! Or possibly Danyl. Or maybe Lucie or Joe.
Anyway, whilst I'll be kicking back and watching X-factor Ian and Aileen will be running round and round a track again and again and again. They're participating in the Self Transcendence 24 hour race in Tooting. Yep that's 24 hours of running round a TRACK in London. I know, WTF?
As I grow older there are numerous things that I am learning to accept.
1) I will always be a little bit pear-shaped. Mainly because my hips are disproportionate to my chest. 2) The freckles on my shoulders will never disappear. 3) Even though I like my hair colour, I will always get mocked for it. That wasn't a cue for jokes, Waterman. 4) I will never be able to drink wine and not make a t*t of myself. 5) I'll always be rubbish with numbers. 6) I can't tame my sarcasm and will probably always offend someone. 7) And I'm never going to run a good 5K. Or a 10K for that matter.
Try as I might, short distances are not my thing. After Saturday's performance in the Parkrun 5K (23:20) I whimpered something along the lines of "how am I going to get faster?" but really, as I said, acceptance is probably the best way forward. I will continue to use 5Ks and 10Ks as good speed sessions, but they are not my forte. My heart will always lie with the long-distance races. I will never neglect speed work, as I believe it's an important part of marathon training and ultra running.
Anyone can get round a three/six mile course. I know non-runners who have gone out and fluked excellent times. I think the test lies in pushing yourself beyond boundaries. If I put my heart, mind and training to it, could I get a sub:20 5K time? Possibly, maybe. But who cares? Could I get a sub:20hr WHWR? Now that would special.
I think I'm just starting to tap into my ultra-running potential. I'm not going to blow my own trumpet - I'm British! But I'd like to see how I would get on with proper training and a good shot at a race.
...has gone by in a flash! I thought time passed quickly pre-Cairn, but it's a whole different ballgame now. I lost count of the times that people said to "enjoy them whilst they're young, because they grow up so quickly". I tutted it off with a mental eye-roll, but really it's so true. Now my little baby is not so much a little baby. He's practically crawling, has three teeth, waves goodbye and can moan "mum, mum" when he wants something. Unfortunately he can scale a room in an blink and can usually find something that would suggest we haven't quite baby proofed the house - entangled in electrical wires, playing with bottles of shampoo...that's my boy! I think he's going to be a mischievous one, but he's still a delight. Sleeps through the night, never cries and eats all his dinner. A bit like Sonic, but less maintenance.
Trying to work, run and spend QT with the family is still a huge juggling act. Throw in my domestic chores and it's pretty much 24/7 full-speed. I have to super-organised and even more super-motivated. I have windows for running and I have to get out the door and go. There's no sitting about humming and hawing or waiting for the rain to go off.
I'm trying to follow the training plan that Coach Lesley drew up for me for last year's London Marathon. In summary, it follow this basic sequence
Monday: Rest or x-train Tuesday: Speed/reps Wednesday: Tempo run Thursday: club run Friday: Rest or x-train Saturday: Short speed Sunday: Long run
After the previous Saturday's dismal attempt at a short race, I signed up for the McAndrew Relay Race last Saturday. After running the course as a club training run, I felt better prepared for the race. You know how I don't like courses I'm not familiar with :-) Well the weather was quite tip-top race conditions. Gale force winds and torrential rain. Arriving at the start in Jordanhill, if it wasn't for the team-factor I would have driven away.
It was a bit of a late start - 3pm! Which kind of plays havoc with your day. And meals. I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, so I bought a packet of Fruit Pastilles and Skittles on the way. I was totally wired and very on puking after than nutrious snack.
I was in a team with Emma (1st leg), Me (2nd) and Rachel (3rd). Emma had a great run and appeared over the the hill - long legs a bounding - look as fresh as a daisy. Setting off along Anniesland Road, running straight into the wind, I debated whether to pass the (slightly larger) runner in front or just sit behind her. Thankfully I opted to the team spirit and ended up passing SEVEN runners on the 3.3 mile course. I felt pretty good and actually enjoyed it...ish. The hills took everything out of my legs though. Rachel took over and had a great run - especially has she hadn't raced for a nearly a year. We ended up 12th out of 27 teams, which we were all quite pleased with.
Saturday night I undid all my good-doing with a night out with Sharon. Mucho beer and a few juniper juices. We still managed an 11-mile (VERY hilly) run on Sunday morning. It was probably one of the best runs I've ever had. Despite the steep inclines (or nosebleed hills as Sharon calls them) and nearly getting taking out on a bend by an Audi 4x4, it was a cracker. With Autumn in full swing, it was a sunny, crisp morning - perfect for a run on undulating country roads. Without sounding too much of a tree hugger, the autumnal colours were gorgeous. A lovely way to pick up my car - which was abandoned at the pub the night before.
After the run, the Mum, Gran and I took Cairn over to Castle Semple in Lochwinnoch to feed the ducks.
On Tuesday I did some reps round the track at Bellahouston Park and Wednesday I did an 8-mile tempo run (ave 7:49). I decided to get up at 5.30 and do the run before work, as running at lunchtime often adds to the stress of a hectic day. I try to use quite flat routes for a tempo run, as Thursday's club runs are always hilly. I doubt there's a route round Bearsden/west end that doesn't have killer hills. This Thursday's run was quite special, as we took in the stoaters! One being Gardner street, pictured below. 6.23m ave 8:15
This morning I did the Glasgow Parkrun 5K. I forget to set my watch, so I've got no idea what my time was. I'll need to wait for the official results. Watch this space. Hopefully I'll have time to blog again before Cairn starts school :-)
Like many of my blogger friends, sometimes I lose direction. I have read many times "It's a running blog, so I better talk about running". So here goes...zzz
Last week was a bit of a write off. I think I got a bit of a bug in Morocco. Nothing too dramatic, just a bit of a cough and sore throat. On Wednesday lunchtime I went out for a five mile run (ave 7:59m/m). It was awful. I felt (and looked!)like I had just run 30 miles. I was actually wheezing and spluttering. Thursday I tried some short reps. Again, not pretty. Saturday I joined my fellow Garscube runners in the George Cummings relay. Just a short 2.7m lap. My lord, was it tough. Nothing seemed to work. I was second leg and managed to catch three runners, to finish in 19:50 (average 7:24m/m) - which is a course PB. Sonic started is leg a few minutes after me, but he didn't manage to catch me. Yay! The course was about 100m too short for that. On Sunday, I decided to forget roads and time and did an 11m route round the Stoneymollan and back over Carmen Hill.
I think the race and the hills sorted me out, as this week I've had my best runs of the year. Tuesday I did hill reps over at Kelvingrove and Wednesday lunchtime I did a 8-miler round the southside* Of course, as soon as I left the office the heavens opened. The rain was torrential. So much so that even the passers-by were laughing at me from the comfort of their cars. Last night I went to club training and we followed the McAndrew route, in preparation for tomorrow's relay race.
I know, another relay race. Sigh. Then we're into cross-country season, which is not something I embrace. Not because I have anything against muck, I just don't see the point in it. I am toying with the idea of doing a hill race though. Just a baby one - the Tinto Hill Race on November 7. I always maintained that running and hill walking are beautiful pastimes to be enjoyed in isolation. But hey, I fancy trying something different.
*Southside run splits: Average pace 7:35 (8.30, 8.16, 8.03, 7.28, 7.29, 7.15, 7.13, 6.58)
Just a quick update, as life has been rather hectic since we got back from Morocco. Click here to see the pictures.
Great mountain, fabulous country and an interesting trip to Marrakesh. Where else would you get ripped off by cowboy snake charmers, groped, find someone else's hand in your pocket, square up to a crazy man selling other people's false teeth, witness corrupt law enforcers and offered to trade in your wife for 3000 camels. The latter to which Jill piped up with "aye, Camel fags!".
There's a new arrival in Team Consani. Sister Sonic (also known as Lisa) delivered beautiful Chloe on Wednesday night - weighing in at a very healthy 8lb 15 (I know, ouch!). Congratulations to Lisa and Bryan.
GOOD: If you would like to see some serious aw-factor stuff. Then click on this link and check out the newborn pictures. Makes you go all gooey it does. (None are of Cairn by the way)
BAD: If you need to be reminded that there are some serious w*nkers in the world, then read on. JK - there could be too much bad language for your. On Saturday afternoon I was out shopping (shock! horror). I had to send a work email and then sat my company Blackberry on the hood of the buggy. I realised about 20mins later that it wasn't there. After a many moments of panic, I started to retrace my steps, trying to phone from my mobile. My Blackberry kept going on to voicemail - so I presumed it was out of signal. But after a few attempts a man picked it up. I was totally relieved and starting gibbering that he had my phone and where could I meet him yada yada...until he said in his matter of fact best broken-English "No. No. It's my phone now" and hung up on me. After numerous attempts to call and a half-blubbering call to Sonic I had the same conversation with the thieving pr*ck. Then five minutes later low and behold the thieving pr*ck ACTUALLY called me back and said again in his best broken-English "Stop calling me. This is my phone now. This is my number". By that time I had completely lost the rag and was walking down Buchanan Street (Oh yes, on a Saturday afternoon now) hissing "you complete an utter wa*king b*stard. F*ck off where you belong to" Or something of that ilk. Classy, eh? Anyway I just went straight to my office and organised to get the sim wiped and the device disabled. Complete useless now. I'm all for culture diversity, but I'm totally bitter about this.
On to some running news (I appreciate the topic don't flow, but hey ho) I did a four mile recovery with Debbie Cox on Tuesday, 800m reps on Wednesday and a 10-miler on Saturday.
We're off to Morocco on Wednesday (a small jaunt in the High Atlas Mountains). See y'all when we we get back :-)
Along with the 10K, this is quite an iconic event on the Scottish running calendar. I know people who train only for this race and then hang up their trainers until next time around. It doesn't have the same hold for me as the Glasgow Women's 10K (my first race), but it was my second ever road race after starting out in 2002.
Last year I didn't do it because I was a) trekking round Vietnam and b) five months pregnant. Not that the latter would have stopped me. The year before (2007) I pulled out at 4.5 miles. My heart, head and body just weren't up for it. I ended up running about 5 miles back to Glasgow Green to cheer on the finishers. Go figure. That's Debbie logic for you.
The only reason I signed up for Sunday's race was a last minute scramble to get club league points. As previously stated it's the best six performances out of 12 races. First in gets 11 points and goes down to 1 point for participating. As of Saturday I had only done five races and was fourth in the league.
I'm not going to blabber too much about the race. What can I say about running round Glasgow? It was pretty uneventful. Nice and cool with a slight drizzle, so I can't even complain about the weather. Legs felt ok, but the last mile was a struggle. Maintained a relatively even pace (7:49m/m) and finished in 1:43:51. Not a PB, but I was quite pleased with the even (ish) splits.
Huge congrats to everyone who ran, finished, PB-d and haven't hung up their trainers until next year.
Well, Thursday's club run really burst my bubble. I was fine for the first couple of miles, but then something went - and my heart went with it. I just felt knackered. Not muscle fatigue, just general lack of sleep.
On Saturday we had to go to another wedding. An old school friend of Sonic's. I wasn't particularly excited about going, as we weren't allowed to take Cairn. It was a no-children wedding - which is just weird in my books. The bride in question is a bit, erm, alternative. Sonic was convinced she would come down the aisle in a black ensemble, but she appeared looking radiant in white - bearing more tattoos than our favourite pirate. Sonic had informed me they had booked a rock band for the reception. After doing my head-banging rendition of "Bring your Daughter to the Slaughter", I said: "If they have 'Don't Want to Miss a Thing' as their first dance, I will p*ss myself laughing". Not that I don't think it's a nice song, but given that we're practically profession wedding go-ers, I heard it quite a few times. Note to any bride-to-be: Google top 10 wedding songs and don't use any of them.
The wedding ceremony was lovely. The bride looked like she was going to burst with joy and giggled all the way through the vows. The groom cried and they generally looked like the happiest couple ever.
The reception was out in Houston. Although we hadn't discussed designated driver duties, Sonic managed to sink champagne and two whisky liqueurs within five minutes of arriving, so I was sidelined to diet coke and large jug of water. After shifting uncomfortably through a cringe worthy Father-of-the-Bride speech, where he mentioned that she had got into the wrong crowd at school (a la Sonic)quite a few times, it was time for dinner. Haggis followed by Venison. Although both are quite special as far as wedding dinners go, neither were my cup of tea. Haggis is full of sh*te only Scottish people would eat and venison? Well, it's Bambi. It's all wrong. Of course I looked like a weirdo, as everyone else looked like they'd died and gone to heaven.
Sonic discovered he had a little red wine monopoly going on, as everyone else on the table drank white. Oh joy. This generally means he will talk no stop, most sentences will start "one time on the West Highland Way" regardless of who he's speaking too and he'll pass out in the car home. He got talking to a chap that went to his school who claimed he used to run and did the London Marathon in 1991 in 2:41. It was blindingly obviously the guy was talking rubbish, but Sonic continued to probe and salute him - even after several shift kicks under the table. Despite various convincing attempts, I doubt he will be signing up for Garscube.
Then arrived the band - who were more Orson than rock - and time for the first dance. No guesses what the first song was. I managed to contain p*ssing myself. Especially as the band were really good. And the couple didn't take it remotely seriously. Before the party really kicked off, we had to bow out to pick up Cairn. Someone else to sleep on the journey home. I was glad I was driving though, as I would probably still be dancing round my handbag in the wee small hours.
I had signed up for the Paisley 10K on Sunday morning, which I couldn't see far enough. I never hid the fact that I was only there for the club league points. I felt OK for the first two miles and then blew up. I considered bowing out at 5K (even though I got a 5K PB) but then I'd be stranded in Fegie Park, which ain't exactly suburbia. I couldn't shake the negative "don't want to be there" thoughts. Again it wasn't muscle fatigue, I just didn't have any drive. Runners were passing me on the hill, but I kept going. I didn't look at my watch much, but I glanced at 9k to see what I was faced with. I finished in 47:46 which is a PB by two whole seconds. I'm not going to be one of those pain-in-arse runners who get a PB and still moan, so I won't. So far I haven't had to act disappointed. Everyone I told has done it for me. You know and I know that I should be faster, but I think I will always be a better long-distance runner. Considering I could probably count in the one hand how many speed sessions I have done since I had Cairn. And it has only be three weeks since the Devils race. Excuses, excuses. Maybe one day I should focus my efforts and get a good 10k time. In the meantime I prefer something with a bit of endurance.
On a more positive note, Garscube Ladies won the first team prize. I never thought I'd be placed in the same team as the superfast Kirsty Husband and Ali "whippet" Winship. Obviously the team prize was won on their amazing times. But hey, if I hadn't run we wouldn't have won it. The prize was £120 (£40 each) so that more than covers the entry fee. I've been quids-in in the last three races. Woohoo. Hey, Mrs Pacepusher, if you had run on Sunday you would have won the prize along with Hailey and Leanne. Imagine taking a team prize with Hailey Haining??
Yesterday I did a seven-miler round the horseshoe. Average 8m/m. And today I did 5 x 500 reps after feeling inspired to sort out the lack of speed training situation.
I was considering going out for another run at lunchtime today, but I just couldn't talk myself into it. The 99% effort required to get out the door, could not be coaxed. I did, however, go to the gym. 30 mins on the elliptical trainer and then a bit of half-hearted weights.
Whilst on the trainer there was a rather large chap on the machine next to me, who clearly didn't know there was a fine line between macho and heart failure. He was really going at it. Had it right up on level 12, compared to my feeble level 7. He was gasping, going purple and was sweating all over the place. I mean POURING sweat. To make matters worse his ipod was up so loud I could hear the hissing of his music - which is probably my number one bug bear. If it wasn't so comical I would have pushed him off.
Just looking round the gym you can spot the difference between men and women. The guys are on the cusp of personal injury and the gals think a hard-core work out is walking on a treadmill. Now, I'm all for physical exercise for health reasons, but there's got to be a sensible approach to it. This is not a funny story, so try not to laugh. Little super-endurance runner, Sharon, is very much an early morning runner. So much so, that she is a regular sight for the local workies. One white-van man was so inspired by her he told her he was taking up running because of her. Anyway he started out on a treadmill. And died on the bloody thing. I kid you not. I said don't laugh!
In preparation for the aforementioned decider long run, I went for a sports massage on Friday. Aileen put me in touch with her physio: a Polish chap, Janek, based at Green's. This is one of the reasons that I felt bad passing Aileen in the Devil's race. After feeling a few aches and pains last week I decided a return visit to Janek - and his unnatural obsession with Deep Heat - was much needed. Given his profession he's very knowledgeable on effects of long-distance running on your muscles. He kindly insinuated that Aileen and I weren't exactly running on young muscles. When I informed him in my best Glasgow accent "Aye, we no spring chickens" and had to explain the expression. He joked in his best Polish accent "OK, so I tell Aileen: Debbie says you are not spring chicken". Noooooooo!!
On Saturday morning I felt semi geared-up for a 20-mile run. I've spent the last few weeks cutting back on breastfeeding and Saturday morning was my last stint with the breast pump. Yippee! I've had a love-hate relationship with the god-awful contraption. Although it's been a saviour (especially when wine has been involved) I'll be happy never to hear the groaning sound ever again. I'm sure Sonic will miss those romantic evening/morning of me curled up in my PJs, linked up to a breast pump. Sexy, eh? Now that Cairn is seven months, is at nursery most days and (more importantly) has two teeth, it was time to call it a day. Not bad considering I swore I was only doing it for 12 weeks. So far (maybe coincidentally) it has paid off, as Cairn hasn't been sick once.
So off I went with my freshly-squeezed boobs and my not-so-fresh legs. I opted (for reason which escape me) to do the route over to Helensburgh and back through Dalreoch. Rule one of long runs: Don't incorporate too many tough hills. Rule two: Don't ignore rule one. My legs still felt light and springy, but my knee was threatening to call it a day. After numerous stops to stretch and a panic call to Sonic, I actually made it round. Apart from my knee, I generally felt quite good. I averaged 8:29 m/m for the route. I was glad it was over though, but happy I can see a marathon in my sights. And if I play my cards right over the next few weeks, possibly a PB.
In true Debs' ying 'n' yang style, I undid all the good with a visit to the curry buffet at the Killermont Polo Club. Sonic treated his WHW support crew as a thank you. As it's next to our running club, I've passed it loads of times and been dying to try it out. I would highly recommend it. The unlimited buffet is great for runners. And Cairn liked the ice-cream.
On Sunday I went over to Strathaven to watch some of the 50 mile road race. Bit of a wasted journey really, as everyone I went to see pulled out. I suppose I leant from their mistakes though. As Sharon said: "Anything over marathon distance on road, is just no right". I agree. Although a chat with Ian got me thinking about round Arran race. Think it's about 54 (very f-king undulating) miles. But I think it would be more of a achievement for runners. Kind of like I ran the WHW in one go. I think saying "I ran round Arran" makes more sense than saying "I ran round Strathaven". I would like to organise a race one day, so maybe this could be it.
Today, I went out at lunchtime for a wee jaunt. It was one of those days when getting out of the door was 99% of the battle. I hummed and hawed for about an hour, but eventually made it out. 100m along the street and I felt like I was reborn. I jogged along the Clyde for a few miles and then did some 450m reps over and round the bridges over the Clyde. The Jamaica bridge and the, erm, one next to the Jamaica Bridge. By jeez is in windy done by the water. 1.45, 1.43, 1.42, 1.43, 1.43. I guess (unlike Caster Semenya) I won't be getting whisked away for a gender test. Even with the return of my wee boobs.
As previously mentioned, races for the rest of the year are kind of up in the air. I lacked direction, so I signed up for the Paisley 10K (August 30) and the Great Scottish Run half-marathon (Sept 5). Two small problems: I have a wedding the day before the 10K and I haven't done any speed training. Oh well I can do them for 1) to continue my winning streak on more medals than Sonic 2) just for fun 3) as speed training for an Autumn marathon.
Which brings me nicely on to my next subject. Autumn marathon choice. I WAS thinking Loch Ness on October 4. But now I'm drawn towards Dublin on October 26. Has anyone done either or, even better, both? I mean both, as in, to compare. I'm not considering doing both.
Mind you, after this weekend's long-run, I may can the whole idea altogether. My left knee seems very weak, like it might give way sometime. It's not an injury per se, but I concerned that it may turn into one. But should I really stop running on the basis that I many get injured? Doubt it.
Last night I tried out my super new training with a club run. It's great to go along on Thursday's, as pushing myself against other people is the main thing my training "plan" lacks.
Coach Lesley put me in charge of a pack which consisted of Emma, Anna, Alan, Dermot and Gary. Bit of a mix bag. Emma and Anna are going places, Dermot's trying to get back there and Alan's a seasoned runner. Gary's not built like your typical runner (yet) but he's got serious strength in his legs. I've watched him over the last few weeks. I probably expend as much energy shaking my head as he does powering all the streets. As most of our club runs are round Bearsden, there's always some nasty hills. It's no secret to anyone that he dislikes hills. But his method of stomping up them as fast as possible is suicidal. My attempts at advicing him how to run up and down hills fell of deaf eyes. Wathching him bounding up the hill next to Emma made me giggle. Next to Emma's petite frame and daintly stride he looked like Shrek. One day he'll get it and he will leave us all speechless. Until then I can't decide whether he's fiercly competitive or he just wants it over with as quickly as possible.
My knee was a bit touch and go from about three miles. My legs are still a bit tired and they wouldn't let me attack the hills. I even had to walk for a few seconds on Pendicle. I got a bit of a scare when my knee went from underneath me in the last mile, but it doesn't feel any worse or better.
I know this is a bit w*nky, but here's a wee story about yours truly in our local paper. Thank Davie Hall for being my PR man. The reported never contacted me. See if you can spot the mistakes.
..I often find a new pair of shoes will entice it back.
This time I actually needed a new pair of road shoes. Although I record my miles on SportTrack, I don't keep a note of what shoes I'm wearing. I presumed (possibly, maybe) my shoes were passed their 500 miles. Plus they look a bit dirty :-)
Yesterday I went off to Achilles Heel on a shoe-buying adventure. I did toy with the idea of going out with Sonic's lunchtime crew for a rep session, but my adductors have been playing up since I went out with Cairn in the baby jogger on Monday. The coach of Sonic's gang - Mark Johnston - has always been very encouraging, even though he knows I'll definitely fall behind. I must admit I do feel quite intimidated by the prospect, especially when they refer to themselves as "the fast guys". Maybe next week I'll bite the bullet.
Anyway, back to important things. Shoe shopping. After my last sports' massage from the wee-but-mighty Christine, she had suggested that I might want to up the support in my shoes to accommodate the higher mileage. I have been running in the Saucony Guide for a few years now. I've previously tried the Brooks GTS and the Asics Kayana. I'm a big fan of the Saucony, so Christine had suggested trying out the Omni. At Achilles Heel they take shoe choice very seriously. After trying on various models and sizes and parading about the store with my trousers rolled up, I settled on the Hurricane. The most expensive out of the range. At £95 I think they're the most expensive trainers I've ever bought. I tried on last season's discounted Hurricane 10, but I'd already fallen in the love with the shiny blue Hurricane 11.
From now on, I'm going to make a note of the miles in my trainers. I think fluttering between road, trail and lightweights requires a bit of monitoring. In hindsight, maybe I shouldn't have laughed when I found Sonic taking pictures of his shoes for his SportTracks records.
The countdown clock above is still set for the Devil's race. Mainly because Sonic put it on for me and I don't know how to change it, but also because I'm not sure what to do next. The plan was to wait and see what kind of state the race left me in. I'm glad to report that all is well. I went over my ankle (just a weakness) a few hours after the race, but it was OK after a couple of days. My legs and joints felt a bit stiff and weak, but two miles on the treadmill on Wednesday and I felt much better. On Thursday I did a hilly nine miles with Sonic. We were going to go to the club on Thursday night, but when I heard the planned route for the tempo run I bowed out. My knees felt really stiff, so I took Friday and Saturday off.
Yesterday I did the Achilles Heel Bella 5K. It's one the key races in Garscube's Summer League. I've pretty much missed most the season, so I'm having the cram-run the last few races. After my buddy's 40th birthday party on Saturday night (and a few too many grape juices) I wasn't in the best shape for a 5K. But after Sonic did the talking-through-Cairn thing:"look at your Mum, Cairn. Isn't she a drunken bum?" I had to save face and turn up for the race. Remarkably I felt better than I deserved too. Despite the strong winds and the overwhelming urge to throw up wine, I actually got a PB. 23:05. Don't laugh OK. I'm not cut-out to be a short-distance runner! But boy was I glad it was only 5K.
So what next, indeed? I'm thinking about the Loch Ness Marathon in October. I can still apply for a club place up until September 12. I haven't done any marathon specific training, so I'm not holding out for a PB. But somewhere close to my 3:31 would be nice...but I'm undecided. Possibly the River Ayr Way Race? But I'm not sure I have the inclination to run another 40m+ race. Especially on a route I can potentially to get lost on. I'm still not sure whether I can be bothered with the Great Scottish Run half-marathon either. I'm going to try an 18-20 road run at the weekend and take it from there.
This was my big race of the year. What I thought was an over-ambitious goal to shift the baby weight turned out to be the race of my life.
The Scottish ultra-running scene has become very popular over the last few years and is now hugely competitive. When I signed up for the Devil o' the Highlands (43 with 6200ft of ascent) my main goal was to complete rather than compete. If I got a PB, bonus. If I got under eight hours, double-bonus.
My training had gone better than expected and I actually felt stronger and faster than I left it last year. I didn't have a race plan per se. I was just going to go with the flow. I had a general idea of when I would like to get to checkpoints, but I never put a schedule together. It was all about running to effort level and comfort.
Sonic and Cairn were my support for the day. After my long training run a few weeks ago, I knew Sonic was going to be ace. Cairn, on the other hand, was a bit of an amateur :-) The plan was not to stop. Just a run-through-drop-of-an-pick-up.
The race kicked-off at 6am. The start of an ultra-marathon is so civilised. There's no scramble to get to the front. No elbowing and frantic sprints. The "gun" goes off and everyone saunters up the hill chatting away.
I chatted with JK and Ian as the field started to divide. After a mile or so, JK pushed on and I ran with Ian for a while before settling into my own pace. I stayed in third female position, but could see the first and second not far in front. It was way too early to start "racing", so I wasn't even remotely bothered about where I was placed in the field.
I arrived at Bridge of Orchy in (approx) 55 minutes, grabbed a gel and a bottle of Lucozade and headed up the hill. I met Sonic again at Victoria Bridge and took my backpack for Rannoch Moor. The long incline on the Drover's Road usually kills my thighs, but I felt great. I had a few low points over the next few miles, but started to pick-up (with the help of gel with caffeine) as I headed out of the Moors. Murdo was waiting at the top, so it was nice to see a friendly. Even nicer when he informed me JK wasn't too far in front :-)
The descent down to the ski centre is one of my favourite bits. The steep free fall on the rocky path is almost like brain training. Unfortunately/fortunately my feet work faster than my brain, so there's generally a few stumbles. Maybe I should contact Nintendo about a brain trainging game for the DS.
I arrived at the first official checkpoint - the glencoe ski centre - in 2:42. I couldn't say it was ahead of schedule, because I didn't have a schedule. But it was faster than I expected. When I met up with Sonic in Kingshouse, he seemed slightly concerned about my speedy arrival. Neal, Caroline, Chris and Davie H were also there and had chalked a welcome message on the ground, which unfortunately my brain couldn't process. Sonic had to explain it. Thanks for the thought guys. And thanks Sue for the banner.
In my head, Kingshouse was when the race should REALLY start. 19 miles in with two main sections to go. I still felt strong, but was looking forward to the walk up the Devil's Staircase. On the way up I spotted Aileen (2nd female) zig-zagging her way up. I remember saying to Sonic during one of his WHWR training runs that it was great when he was wearing a white t-shirt, as I could see him coming miles away. Probably not so good when your colour choice spurs on your nearest rival. Sorry, Aileen. It gave me a real boost. I had a self-motivating chat with myself and shouted out "OK, let's go!"...only to discover my nearest rival was about three feet away from me. Doh! I tried to hum and cough to disguise my outburst, but he must of thought I was a bit mental. After an introduction I chatted to Richard most of the way up. Only on a ultra-run would you not blink an eye stomping up a hill with a guy wearing a vest, cycling shorts and knee-length compression socks :-)
At the top of the Devil's Staircase Neal, Caroline and Chris were there cheering me on again. I was looking forward the descent, as it's one of my strengths. The no-fear factor really helps. Richard informed me he was going to push-on and wished me well. I watched him for a minute or so, humouring him. I wasn't out to compete with boys, but I knew I had to put him in his place. After passing and widening the gap I heard him shouting "you must be better on trails than me". Mmm you'd think.
Arriving in Kinlochleven, I heard Sonic shouting "Two minutes. Second lady is two minutes in front". It was great to see John and Lesley there and looking so excited. Making the 200 mile trip to come out and support me was really appreciated. Thanks guys. Good job I was doing well or they might have asked me for the petrol money.
I passed Aileen who had stopped at the Kinlochleven checkpoint to refuel. I felt a bit of a fraud as Aileen ran a storming 95-race only five weeks previous. After many words of encouragement from the gathering crowds, I grabbed my backpack and headed up to Lairig Mor. There were two male runners behind me on the ascent. I was slightly conscious of the fact that my compression tights are pretty transparent when I bend over, but the hands-on-knees technique always helps with the steep ascent. Sorry guys, but it was a case of victory over modesty.
Although Lairig Mor is a beautiful section, it is notorious for its soul-sucking ability. It's the Bermuda Triangle of the WHW. As suspected I had a few low-points, which were unexplainable. I still had energy, no aches or pains and the weather was favourable. I had many serious chats with myself. This time out of ear-shot. I tried to eat some jelly babies (which I usually swear by) but they were making me gag. I couldn't even drink the juice in my hydration pack as it tasted too sweet. From a girl who takes five sweeteners in coffee, that was not the norm.
I perked up a lot when I caught and passed another runner (again, spurred on by his white t-shirt). On the flats I could see Aileen. There was enough of a gap, but I knew I couldn't slack off.
When I arrived at Lundarva, I was delighted to dump the backpack and change into my lovely Nike Lunaglide. I had collected a bit of gravel in my trail shoes and was glad to shake it off. I had invested in some lock laces before the race and the change over was super-slick. I took a bottle of coke and my new found spring in my step and started on the last section. It was bang on six hours, so I knew I was well within my 7:30 hour dream target.
The shoe change was a brilliant plan. The lightness meant I could mentally and physically change gear. I could run up the hills that I would have more than likely walked up. I passed lots of trekkers who were all cheering me on. Onwards and upwards through the forestry I was on a total high. Not just because of my time, but mostly because it was nearly over.
When I hit the track to embark on the last three miles that's when my lightweight trainers came into play. There was no pressure for time, so I didn't blast it. As I passed through the gates to the Braveheart carpark, Sonic, John and Lesley were screaming at me. I vaguely remember John shouting that I looked strong and to push it. Turning the corner to roadside in 7:01 I was on the home straight. After passing the 30mph sign (the most beautiful signpost in the world) I reached the houses on the outskirt of the town. At the small incline I slowed to fix my hat and wipe the snotters from my nose (hey, I knew there would be cameras) and picked up the pace for my grand finale.
I could hear everyone cheering and I saw Sonic and Cairn waiting at the finish line. It was 10 seconds of my life that I will never forget. I finished in 7:08:59. Second lady and 16th overall. Only one minute slower than the previous ladies record! I can't even put into words how pleased I am. The response I've had since has been pretty overwhelming. Especially as most people were as shocked as I was.
Thanks to Sonic for being so fabulous. I really think the support can make or break a good race time and he was amazing. Thanks to John, Lesley, Sharon, Davie B, George (I was in the bushes!!), Davie H, Jim R, Neal, Caroline, Chris, Adrian and Murdo for your cheers, pictures and videos. And everyone else who was out supporting.
Special congratulations to JK for a fabulous time of 6:55, Silke for completing her first ultra in 9:22, Ian for banking another ultra-marathon, Helen for breaking the ladies record, Aileen for a PB by nearly one hour, Karen for a fab PB and for putting up with George the whole way and to George and Richie for being super-fast as always.
During the race I ran with a small picture of Dario pinned to my top. I joked about pinning in to my bum, so he didn't finish in front of me :-) I'm sure he was watching over us all. When the sun threaten to hinder performances, there was drizzle and cool breeze to save the day. After the awards' presentation we were in the hotel having a celebratory beer when Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run came over the speakers - the song played at Dario's funeral. I'd like to believe it was a sign.
Here's the race video - directed by Sonic the Maccer. It's worth watching just to see the finish. I've only watched it about 100 times already.
Whilst flicking though this monht's Runner's World (I'm a self-confessed flicker of magazines) I came across this Q&A.
Q) Does pushing my child in a jogging buggy offer any additional training benefits?
A) Absolutely, because it's more challenging, especially if you're running uphill. Studies have shown that you can burn up to 20 per cent more calories (depending on the weight on your child) while pushing a jogging buddy at any given pace. You'll work your cardiovascular system harder, and pushing the buggy will strengthen several muscle groups - especially the pecs, triceps, deltoids, quads and hamstring.
See! It is tough work. I still maintain that the baby jogger has really help me get back my fitness and speed.
I wish I had more time to read magazines properly. We've got subscriptions to Runner's world, Running Fitness and My Race. I have pile of unread/half-read copies filed under "maybe one day", but will inevitably end up in the recycle bin. Some still in the packaging. Don't be alarmed though, as we have two subscriptions to Runner's World. Yes, one of us was supposed to cancel (think it was me) but then who would get first dibs at reading? Our postman must think we're a bit mental.
We've also got a whole library collection of running books. We're both reading quite a few at the same time. I think there might be a couple that I've read cover-to-cover, but mostly I just dip and flick. The best thing: Two runners + one house = I get to buy the books I want to read as gifts. Result. Right now I'm reading Dean Karnazes 50/50 (a gift I bought for Sonic). It's one of the many books on my bedside table that I'm half-way though.
Thankfully I get more time to run than I do to read.
Monday: 4.5m of one minute intervals (34:11 ave pace 8:02) Tuesday: 6.5 easy/steady - hips started to ache (ave 8:02) Wednesday: Rest day due to achy hips Thursday: Brutal 7.5m club run. Coach Lesley sent us over every hill in Bearsden. Loved it (1hr:2 ave 8:24) Friday: Rest Saturday: Hilly 7 miles with Baby Jogger (ave 8:43)
So tomorrow, I'm back to work in the office. It will be Cairn's first full-day at nursery. He was in for a few hours for few days last week and got on great. He's such a happy wee chappy and loves being round other kids, so I know he will love it. Note the self-assuring chat. I'm not totally over-joyed about leaving him with strangers, but I was really comforted during my visits to see the set up and goings-on. Plus - selfish I know - I like working. I wouldn't feel like a proper person if I didn't work. I take my hat off to full-time Mums and can totally understand why women break their hearts when they HAVE to go back to work. The nursery is only five minutes aways from my office (and Sonic's office is just round the corner from mine) so I'm also comforted by the fact that he's so close. Cairn that is, not Sonic :-) Shame the city-centre location doesn't come with a comforting price-tag. But I'm sure it will be worth every penny. Plus, it's the perfect excuse to hold off for baby number two.
Famed for his regular and thorough updates, John the blog is always first on the case. When I first met JK, I knew so much about his life and hugely popular blog, that I didn't know whether to shake his hand or curtsy. Of course now he's my buddy, I just mock him for his spreadsheets and having way too much time on his hands. Although I think it's down to being more disciplined than most bloggers. JK pretty much eats, sleeps and breaths the West Highland Way race and has the full backing of his long suffering wife. At the post-race presentation, I moaned: "Now we've got to endure the post-race analysis" she replied: "I've told John he's got four weeks and then I don't want to hear about it". FOUR WEEKS?? Now I refer to her as Saint Katrina.
Well if you haven't already followed the links to JK's blog, then I best give you my account of the run. Although I've pinched the visuals from his blog :-)
The original plan was to run from Kingshouse to Fort William (my favourite stages) with JK and his two pals, Stevie and Chris. There was a bit of a debate about doing earlier sections - to cut out some of the travelling - but I was adamant that I wanted to do the latter stages as I think do the final sections would be make for better race prep. Anyway I managed to convince them to stick with the plan, so we only had to deal with the small matter of car sharig, pick-ups, bus tickets and dog sitting. Sometimes these training runs are a logistical (and expensive) nightmare. A 200+ mile trip to run 24 miles! Oh well, you can't beat training on the course, can you?
JK, of course, came armed with his laminated spreadsheet of times/splits/pace for each mini-section (remember how I mentioned too much time?). My plan was much less structured. I would run on the runable bits and walk on the steep bits. Genius, eh. I really didn't think I could keep up with their 4:15 schedule. I honestly didn't expect to see them after we left Kingshouse.
(JK, me, Chris and Stevie - picture stolen from JK)
I was very pleased to find the pace was fine. Apart from the steep ascents - where my leg length became I disadvantage - I kept up quite comfortably until Kinlochleven. I told them to push on up Lairig Mor and I would meet them at the end. Pretty soon JK and Stevie became dots in the distance, but I could see Chris' red t-shirt the whole way. Everytime I closed the gap, we would hit a hill and his six-foot legs would be carry him over. I'm not a very competitive person, but I kept imaging it was a female race participant in the race. The t-shirt wasn't quite a red rag to a bull, but I was pretty sure I wanted to catch him. Without racing, of course.
There were loads of hikers out on the trail. I think most groups start at the weekend/Monday, so by the following weekend they're doing the final section. Given that, Lairig Mor is always busy on the Saturday. I passed two (possibly) Dutch trekkers who informed me (in their best broken-English) that the two runners in front had asked them to give me a message but the couldn't understand what they were saying, I was slightly concerned but pushed on. Five minutes later I passed a groups of lads who had stopped for their lunch. One asked if I was Debs and when I confusingly replied yes, they all stood up and shouted "Go, Debs!" The laugh really spurred me on, thanks JK.
I finally caught up with a lost Chris coming out of the woods before the descent to Fort William. I think he was starting to wilt, but was still in good spirits. We covered the last few miles together - with me gibbering and frequently informing him "not long to go". When we passed through the Braveheart carpark and hit the pavement, he started to slow. Why does hitting the hard surface always make you feel like someone has just whacked the back on your knees?
I finished in 4:14:07 which is was absolutely delighted with. I never thought I could keep up with JK's schedule. Turns out he couldn't stick with it, as finished in 3:57 with Stevie a few minutes behind him. And Chris a minute behind me. Great performances all round, me thinks. Looking back on last year's training report, the fastest I have ever done this section (as a stand-alone run) was 4:43.
Check out JK's video for the finishing footage. Obviously I didn't realise the finish was being filmed. I thought JK was taking a picture. I look at bit of idiot jumping about, but hey ho, at least I could still jump about.
We had an hour and half to kill before getting the bus back to Kingshouse. Plenty of time for some well-deserved ice cream (or a feast for a family of four for Stevie) and post-run chat.
Saturday: I got a PB in the Glasgow Parkrun 5K :-) Just a piddly 23:32, but a PB's a PB. As Sharon would say "I don't have a fifth gear", so short speedy races are not for me. But I must say, I really enjoyed it. Even the nasty hills. When I told Sonic of my enjoyment he informed that I "didn't work hard enough". Probably wise words, but I like to come away on a high rather than having my eyes hanging out of my head.
Sunday: I went on a run with Sonic on the Kilpartick hills. Yes, me running on hills. With Sonic. And we didn't even fall out once. Even despite the fact that his course description could be deemed as false advertising. What was billed as a scenic "trail" route was in fact knee-deep in sodden wet grass. I'm sure the views were amazing, but we chose a really wet day and I could barely see my feet.
Thursday: 6m club run. It was on the Kelvin Walkway and then on to Great Western Road. Enough said.
Saturday: This was to be my longest run in preparation for the Devil O' the Highlands. A nice 35 miles from Bridge of Orchy to Fort William. I didn't have any times in my head, I just wanted to get the miles in my legs. No pressure, so I just went out and ran how I felt. It seemed to work, as I felt brilliant the whole way. The weather was perfect for me - wet and wild ;-) Bit treacherous on some of the descents though - especially the Devil's Staircase, which had turned into a river. And it was mighty chilly at the tops. I finished in 6:30:56, which is not too shabby. I felt really strong at the end and even managed the last few miles in 7:30m/m. What started out as a day of jogging, turned into a race against the clock. It's been a real confidence booster. I'm still on a high. All I need to do is add on another 6/7 miles, throw in some race day adrenaline, mix with a dollop of healthy competition and I should be aiming for 7hr 30 mins on race day, don't you think?
Sonic did a stirling job as support. He was great. No stopping and messing about, just a quick drop off and pick up. That's the way it should be on shorter distance ultra marathons (now that's an oxymoron). I didn't take on a lot of food and drink, but what I did have was perfect. Two GO bars, two gels, 100g of jelly babies and some dilluting juice with Nunn tablets.
It's taken me a couple of days to mentally compose my "goodbye" to one of the best people I have met along my journey of life.
It was a year ago today that I posted the entry "Oi, Dario! Where's my goblet". A year ago since he jokingly imposed my lifetime ban for having a "support" runner. But five days since Dario's life was cut short. Turns out the man with the biggest heart, had a heart that failed him. The Daddy of the West Highland Way Race left us on the hills of Lochnagar - surrounded by the friends who loved him.
Like everyone who met him, he had a huge impact on my life. The race really gets under your skin. I often think it's a cult. And now the head of the "family" has gone, everyone has been left lost and heartbroken.
Seems like only yesterday that he was sitting on my sofa laughing at my attempts at balancing on a gym ball. Despite my promises, I never did learn to kneel on it. Only yesterday that he made the special effort to make and present Cairn with his own little "goblet". Only yesterday that he left me in charge of his Buggyfit stand at a show, when I'd never done Buggyfit in my life! I have so many fond memories of Dario. It's heartbreaking to think there is no tomorrow.
Last Friday he had asked Marco to help me put on four stone, so he could beat me in the Devil's race. I promptly replied with he'd have to cut off my legs too. I'd do anything to see his wee stumpy legs running passed and hear his infectious laugh.
Here's the picture I took of him in last year's Devils. I remember having to push him on, as he wanted to stop for a chat. And boy could he chat.
Not only is his departure a huge lose to the running community, but the telecoms industry could be in danger too :-) If BT said it's good talk, Dario thought it was great to talk. I doubt anyone had a converstaion with Dario that lasted less than an hour. He was like a little fish-wife - always too willing to tell you things you know he shouldn't. I always ended a conversation with Dario and went straight on the phone to Sonic with "you'll never guess what..."
Every time I step foot on the WHW I will have a moment for Dario. I'm sure he'll be looking down on us all. And if he's wearing one of his usually ghastly-bright ensembles, chances are we'll see him.
Dario, I'll miss you buddy. See you at the Devil's race in three weeks. Don't be getting cocky though - make sure you stay behind me :-) xx
Yesterday I went to Achilles Heel to pick up the new Asics Trabucos I ordered. I'm not entirely sure I have done the mileage in my last ones, but when I saw that the new version are pink I just HAD to have them. Plus I knew that at few more long training runs in the soon to be RIP-Trabucos and it would be game-over. So best to break in the new ones and have the better cushioning for the big race. Right? Oh and they're pink and lovely too :-)
So while I was in the store, I had a bit of time to kill as I was waiting for Sonic to finish with his sports' massage - administered by the wee-but-brutal, Christine. I spotted the Nike Lunar. I've read a bit about them in Runner's World and I know there are representatives from Nike coming along to showcase them at the Parkrun tomorrow. I was intrigued.
Now you'd think with a honours degree, post-graduate diploma, professional qualifications and 10 years in experience in MARKETING that I might have wised-up to gimmicky products. Nope, not me. I bought a pair. In my defense I'm genetically programmed to like new shoes. And gimmicky shoes? That's a little bit of heaven, that is. They are so light and comfortable they're like walking in bouncy slippers. I'll be trying them out in tomorrow's 5K. Watch this space.
Just in case you think I'm all-the-gear-no-idea, I went along to club training after my spending spree. I must thank Big Stevie for choosing the route along the canal and onto to the million-miles long Alderman Road. Regular readers will probably know that my least favourite routes are the canal and the Kelvin Walkway. I call them the al fresco treadmill - as the scenery doesn't change and they go on forever. I don't know whether my runs this week have taken their toll, but I felt like we were running faster than we were. As I made a song and dance about splits in my last blog entry, I'd better post them: Seven miles in total 8.46, 8.29, 8.19, 8.07, 8.16, 8.21, 8.15.
Last night I had a great run. You know one of those runs when everything comes together? I could have easily been talked out of it, but I soldiered on knowing that I would feel better for it afterwards. What was supposed to be a tempo run was in danger of becoming an easy/steady, but I managed to get in the way of it.
Following a tip from Rachel, I did a one mile warm-up (9.30m/m) and then re-set my watch and went for it. I often found that I would go out too fast, to keep my average pace down. I didn't really have a goal pace in mind, I just wanted to push it for six miles. I was consistently ticking off 7+m/m, so felt great. I felt lighter and faster than I have done for months. I wasn't even completely spent when I finished. I couldn't wait to plug my watch in and check out the splits. But then I soon discovered that a certain person borrowed my Garmin for a certain long-distance race and decided to change all the settings and turn off the autolaps. And said certain person neglected to mention it or even change it back. So when I downloaded the data to SportTracks, all I could get was the summary details. I could say I was slightly completely fizzing, but that would be shallow and over-reactive...Anyway, the average pace for the six miles was 7:35m/m. Fizz. Fizz.
I plan on doing my second ever 5K on Saturday. The Parkrun 5K in Pollok Park, Glasgow. My one and only 5K was back in 2005. A blistering hot JogScotland Glasgow Green effort. Sharon beat me by one second because I had to stop to tie my lace. Nowadays she would have to stop for full outfit change, if I were to have chance of passing her. I can't find the results anywhere but I think it was 24 minutes something. Needless to say, it was such a torturous experience it has taken me four years to forget. Anyway, I digress...last night I wanted to run 3.1m (of my 6m) at a swift-for-me pace to get an idea of a time for Saturday. I covered the fairly hilly distance in 23:30. I would be quite happy with a repeat performance, but would love it if it started with 22. Watch this space.
Today, Sonic was going for an early morning run with John the Jogger - which meant I was up too. It felt like such a long morning that by 10am I think I'd already had breakfast, lunch and dinner. As a break from staring at my computer screen - and to keep me out of the fridge - I took Cairn for a seven-mile run in the Baby Jogger.
The Baby Jogger is getting much easier. The first few attempts were so brutal, it was nearly flung on the "useless must-have purchases" dump. But I'm glad I stuck with it, as I actually quite enjoy it now. I really think it's helping with my speed and strength. It's a tough session, especially on the hilly country roads I usually frequent. I definitely get a few double-takes from the local farmers. Although it's (obviously) a slower pace (today averaged 9:15m/m) it's a great all over workout. And I'm forced to maintain proper running posture - straight, lean and feet turning underneath your body - so that's a bonus too. If anyone wants to try something out their comfort zone, I've got a baby jogger you can borrow. Baby not included.
Just over a month until my big race. That means I've got less than two weeks before the tapering should officially begin. I know I haven't done anywhere near as much training as a should have, but considering the obstacles I'm feeling quite positive. And considering the distinct lack of training I did for this race first time around, I'm feeling quite confident too. Really I've only had three months of (totally unstructured) training, but I've trained more on the course. Last time I had a good endurance base, but the terrain knocked it out of me. So who knows?
When I signed up for the 43-miler my main aim was just to get back in shape and complete the race. Now I'm back to 8st2 (114lb), glad to welcome the return of my 25" waist and slip quite easily into my pre-pregnancy jeans, I'm happy to say it's been worth it. And now that I'm getting in some good long-runs at a fairly reasonable pace, I may have to raise the bar a little.
I did a 28-miler on the West Highland Way before I went to Rome. I survived. And I didn't have any aches or pains the day after. Double bonus.
I was full of good intentions (well, I packed my gear) of running in Rome, but I never quite got round to it. There was just to much to do and see in the limited time we had. Lots of sight-seeing (I've definitely had my quota of old bricks) and shopping (Sonic was over it by day two). Thankfully there was mutual admiration for eating.
I did a 20-miler the morning after we got home. I used the cycle route round Helensburgh and back via Dumbarton. The first seven or so miles of the circuit is a relentless incline - which completely kills my thighs. I was agony by mile 12. By 16 miles, my calves started to ache as my altered running style was having a knock-on effect. I have never been so glad to get home in my life. I collapsed a whimpering wreck on the living room floor. I vaguely remember Sonic standing over me asking if I "wanted a leg massage" and his kind jester being met with shrieks of "DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T EVEN LOOK AT ME!". Thankfully the drama was over quite quickly.
Last week I did a good short rep session on Tuesday and went to club training on Thursday night. As I've been out of the whole club scene for the best part of a year, I'm not quite sure where I sit. The packs have changed and I don't know what other member's paces are like. Plus, I've got no idea how I run compared to other people these days. I tried to go out with the lower packs (or the "less able" as Jill calls them) but when I heard the Geordie shrieks of Coach Lesley "Debbie, get back here!", I had to do the walk of shame back. I was then teamed up with Emma, Anna, Neil and another chap, who's name escapes me. Considering how hot it was, I was a bit concerned about running out of my comfort zone. The route was a six-miler along the Kelvin Walkway and through the west end. I wasn't sure I would be able to keep up, but I managed it. I didn't have it in me for the final kick, so I was deserted in the last 100m. I'm not sure I enjoyed, but I definitely pushed myself more than I have done of late. I know I always moan when the temperature heats up a bit, but I honestly looked like my head was going to burst when we were finished. I swear you could have seen my big purple face from space.
Friday and Saturday I just did five and four miles (respectively) on the treadmill. I'm not sure treadmill running counts as proper training, but it was better than nothing. The treadmill was one of my random must-have purchases a few months ago. I get these things in my head and I've just GOT to have something. In reality could probably count on my fingers how many times I've used it. It has been a bit of a waste of money so far, so hopefully I'll get more use out of it at some point. On that note, the next must-have purchase will be a netbook. Sonic has told me I can't buy one just because "they're cute". Apparently. Anyway, I managed to knock over Cairn's swing and smash the keyboard on my laplap (which was carelessly placed on the floor), so a netbook is a definite must-have :-)
Yesterday, I was back on the West Highland Way. Tyndrum to Kingshouse. I had a pretty good run all in all. Bit hot for my liking, but not too draining. Got to Glencoe in 2:57, fairly comfortable. Well apart from tearing down the hill into Glencoe, as I was super-keen to get in under three hours. After a cool-down run down to Kingshouse, I cooled-off in the River next to the hotel. So there we were: Me fully-clothed sitting in the water, Sonic standing with his jeans rolled up...and Cairn in his pram pulling his sun-hat over his face. Poor kid - mortified by his parents again.
The day after the WHWR is like the new Boxing Day. I wasn't even running and I feel like there's a void in my life. There's a huge build up, loads of planning, LOTS of chat, kit lists, race strategies, support team requirements and meetings and numerous shopping trips. Now I feel like I've left home and forgotten something.
(nervously awaiting the start)
It was a real eye-opener being on the supporting side this year. I loved every bit of it (well, apart from the midges!) and learned a great deal.
(Team Sonic and Mama Consani)
Sonic's race plan didn't quite come good, but he finished. And that, above everything, is the most important. He knew I would mock him forever if he threw in the towel, so I'm glad I "inspired" him to keep going. And to finish - after having to walk from Kingshouse - in under 24 hours is an amazing achievement.
My HUGHEST congratulations has to go to Sharon, who finished first lady (or is it woman, Dario?) is an awe inspiring time of 19:55. She is only the fourth gal to finish in under 20 hours. She is definitely taking the ultra-running scene by storm. Not bad for a girl who was supporting me last year and was bubbling "never let me do this" at the end. Her second fabulous performance of the day was still having the ability to gyrate on the dance - even with 95 miles in her legs. I think the beer in her belly helped mask the pain though :-)
Well done to everyone who ran. I don't want you slip into a coma, but there are a few special mentions: Scott (Just WoW. Although I'm sure you looked younger at the Fling)Richie (the best bridesmaid in the ultra running scene), Pacepusher (I'm still eating my words), JK (been there, done that, now everyone's got the t-shirt), Billy (we need to have a chat about the wonderful experience that is shoe shopping) Mike (about bloody time), George (fuelled on the black stuff), Wee John (you never did tell us what you were saying) Ian (the BBQ will be more of a party than a cremation this year), Drama Queen (did you get a lift?), Karen (No more kids juice now you've come of age), Davie H (even a pregnant burd beat you), Dave Waterman (shirt, slacks and grown-up shoes for the post-race party? Impressive)
Sharon and Sonic. And they didn't even whine when I dragged them back to the finish this morning.
Hope you all enjoy the recovery. I'm off to Rome for four days. Yippee. Just need to get myself a double-buggy :-) I have tried to ban WHW chat for the holiday, but I doubt we'll get as far as the airport.
There was a forum entry a few months ago debating the comparison/differences in running 95 miles non-stop and childbirth. Men obviously "think" ultra-running is the most painful infliction of all, where as woman "know" childbirth is. Me? I'm torn. No pun intended. They both had their highs and lows and both ended with the "never again" syndrome. As I have recent experience in both, I feel the need to clarify. Click on the image below
As I sit here with my goblet (on the shelf, probably dusted more than a month ago) and my gorgeous son, I can safety say they are both amazing life-changing experiences. After my nephew's second birthday party last week, I'm starting to think that one child is suffice, but I'll be back at the start line for the WHWR in 2010.
Well that's what I get for mocking my weekend's race attempts. I had to bow out of being last runner at the Milgavie and Bearsden 10K, as the only course I was capable of patrolling was the route from the sofa to the bathroom.
No I wasn't struck down with wine flu - not a drop passed my lips. Honest! Although Sonic was concerned I might have swine flu...as he wouldn't be able to run this weekend. I don't know what it was but I went to bed on Friday night feeling a bit bloated and ropey and in the earlier hours on Saturday I was head down in the toilet. Many trips later (sometimes not quite made in time) and I was a shaking/freezing/boiling/moaning zombie. It continued until about lunchtime. I couldn't get off the sofa and spent most of the day sleeping.
I don't do sick. I could probably count on my fingers how many times I've been ill in my life. I've had one day off work in the last 10 years and that was because I was so hungover that I couldn't get my head off the pillow. Even then I called in to take a holiday. I won't even admit I've got a cold. I'd have to be bleeding out my eyes before I'd admit defeat.
Thankfully it was over quite quickly as I felt loads better by Saturday night. And by Sunday morning I felt well enough to run round the Vale of Leven 10K with Gillian. I'm a bit of a sucker for doing what I say I'm going to do, as I don't like letting people down. Nothing else would have got me to that start line. Surprisingly I felt OK and enjoyed the run. I tried to get Gillian under the hour, but failed miserably. Actually I think I helped her get her slowest time ever. With a bit of training (Hills, Gillian!) it would be more than achievable, as the best miles were the last two miles of the race.
(Gillian and I - raring to go) (gearing up for the sprint finish) (one more medal than Sonic) (with Brother Sonic and Gillian)
So with four days to go until the biggest race of his life, Sonic has now developed a close bond with the toilet. Oops. I'm so in trouble. Especially because he's a boy and therefore his symptoms are so much worse. It started this morning and should only last a few hours, but I suspect he might milk it a bit.
And boy do I need to do some speedwork. I want to add some variety and feel light on my feet. I haven't really done any speedwork since before London Marathon last year. After that I toned it down for the WHWR. Now I just feel like I'm plodding along quite happily. But moaning because I'm not getting any faster. Some may define insanity as : doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.
So this week was the start of my new training regime. Not that there's a regime per se. Just a want to take the bull by the horns. Not that you'd catch me near a bull you understand, but you get the drift*.
Anyway on Monday I did 1K reps. Don't get excited, I did three. I learnt back in February - when I got injured for two weeks - not to push it too quickly. So I discovered at 1000m loop round the block of houses next to me and off I went. The first one was torture, but the second and third were better. 4:28, 4:23 and 4:18. Blogging those times should shame me into working harder.
On Tuesday night, I went out for a seven-miler. I couldn't face running through Alexandria again, so I drove up to the start of the Balloch Horseshoe and did a seven-mile loop round Gartochan. It's a fab undulating country road. Plenty of nasty hills to get the heart-rate up. I started out (not feeling too energised) thinking I was going to go easy, but decided to pick up the effort level. Total time 57.56, Average 8.16. 8.50, 8.10, 8.24, 8.09, 8.11 and 8.21.
This weekend I've got two "races". Said in the loosest term as tomorrow I'm the sweeper in the Bearsden & Milngavie 10K. Jeez I hope the last runner isn't too fast for me :-) Would it be wrong to sprint finish? Ha ha. I think finishing behind the sweeper would be wrong. I hope it's not raining. Best pack a stick just in case.
On Sunday I'm pacing Brother Sonic's girlfriend, Gillian, round to get under the hour in the Vale of Leven 10K. Gillian, if you're reading - No parties tomorrow night. I want fire in your belly, not vodka! And if you even consider taking over an hour, I may have to DNF at 6.1 miles. Just kidding, my lovely. I'll ask to be omitted from the results instead :-) See me, see motivational chat.
* This brings me on to another subject. Not bulls, but cows. Why are cows scared from everyone except me? They don't cower away more me, they come at me. A few weeks ago when I was out walking on a country road with Cairn, there was one that came pounding towards me and followed me along the hedge line moo-ing it's head off. I know she was protecting her calf, but it was Cairn who had to protect me. And then last week I was out on the cycle route in the Baby Jogger. Part of the path to Dumbarton cuts across a field and over a bridge. Fine on the way out, but on the way back there was a large herd of cows. I tried but I just couldn't muster up the courage to approach. I was considering turning back, but saw a cyclist to approaching. So along came a 70+ man on a 70+old bike and dispersed them. I hung on behind him, but as soon as he was gone they all came bounding back over. I swear it should have been filmed for youtube. Me pushing a jogger at break-neck speed whilst turning every second and squealing like an idiot. I have since googled "cows that kill" and there are many tales to be told. Try it.
Yesterday was the annual WHW relay race. This involved four teams covering the 12 sections and 95 miles of the route. It's more social, rather than competitive. Or maybe that's my excuse for not taking it seriously.
I was running the Bridge of Orchy to Kingshouse section (12 miles) but decided to carry on to Kinlochleven to take in another section and another 9 miles. It was strange finishing a "race" and starting a training run. But it even stranger finishing a training run in Kinlochleven. It's always been the half-way house to Fort William.
(Passing Victoria Bridge)
(Delighted it's all over)
As you will see from the results, I was in the last team. That's three years in a row. I think I'm a jinx.
It's when you look at these results to realise our superhuman Jez and Lucy are. Their course records (15:44 and 17:16) are pretty close to our team efforts of 12 runners.
Although the jury's out on results from the winning team A. Last runner Lesley got lost - ended up on the Lundarva road - and had to get a lift back to Fort William. Mmm, you go figure. Although she is 21 weeks preggers, so she can get away with anything :-) She ran the Helensburgh 10K at couple of weeks ago in a very impressive 44 minutes. I think her PB is like 36 minutes, or something rediculously fast. When I informed her that her pregnant best was faster than my PB she offered to pace me round the Clydebank 10K. I had to politely decline. Can you imagine the shame of being paced by a pregnant gal %-) To be fair, she would probably be more embarrassed finishing in my time.
I must confess, I'm kinda glad this heat wave malarkey is nearly over. I know I'm quintessentially British and will therefore moan about the weather regardless, but I've so had enough. For those outwith the British Isles, when I say heatwave I mean 25 degrees. That's generally the height of the great Scottish summer. It would be lovely if you could spend your days with a book and some pink lemonade whilst someone sparks up the barbie. But in reality, I have a car with no air-conditioning (an excuse to use Sonic's), I work in a windowless cupboard and Cairn and I have so much sunblock on we look like THE shiniest people in the world.
Being of the fair and freckled skin variety, I'm quite fanatical about sunscreen. Sonic - relying on his fading Italian genes - isn't. I've had many a full-scale barney with him as he refuses to wear anything more than SPF8. And that's only after being fried. Anyway, whilst spectating at the Edinburgh on Sunday, I didn't even bother. So after four hours of baking he succumb to the high factor. Too late though as his bare feet (exposed for the first time in years) had taken the brunt. Now he has a lovely red flip-flop design on his feet. I'd post a picture, but my blog would be shut down for health and safety reasons.
(Sonic and Cairn at Edinburgh Marathon)
Well done to everyone who survived the heat (and empty water stations!) at the Edinburgh Marathon. Special congrats to Jill, Maz, Kaz and Anita who were running their first marathon. And to the Crazy Germans and Pacepushers. Usually I feel quite jealous watching races, but this time I was quite happy to only have sore hands from clapping. Oh and a very sore throat, as I was screaming like a banshee.
Despite my dislike of running in hot weather, I have managed quite a few runs. I was out with the baby jogger again last Friday. I don't know whether it was the heat or sore arms, but I had a stinker of a seven-miler. I was so glad it was over. I didn't get a chance at the weekend, but did some step reps on Monday night and a 10-miler last night - three minutes slower, but I actually quite enjoyed it.
Stop press: Sonic and I have found a TV programme we both like. I don't usually have the concentration span to sit and watch a full programme. Sonic always gets annoyed, as I get up and wander off to potter about. I do, however, love a bit of reality TV. Britain's Got Talent, X-factor, Big Brother - all the cr*p of the day really. But I don't do soaps or anything you have to follow. Anyway, our Skybox is full of Sonic's faves: Heroes, Lost, Fringe, Terminator, Prison Break and some very bizarre documentaries. All of which I don't really understand. I kid you not, he once sat through a documentary on how to make windscreen wipers. Really! As my eyes were boring into the side of his head he casually said "it's only got 15 minutes left". That was 15 minutes of my life I'll never get back. I digress...has anyone seen Lie to Me? It rocks! And we both like it. But now that Britain's Got Talent has finished it's time to start with Big Brother and America's Got Talent (which always has a special class of nutter) woohoo!
The time has come to get the new wheels on the road. My lovely Baby Jogger Performance Series has been locked in its box in the spare room for months - eagerly awaiting the day that Cairn was big and sturdy enough to ride in it.
Sonic bought me it for Christmas. Apparently it was a "Sh*t present" but it was what I wanted. Actually I said to Sonic that we should cap our Christmas expenditure at £250, as the year before we had gone a bit OTT. When he asked why, I replied "obviously the thing I want is £250" :-)
So today was our debut performance. I started working early so I could take Cairn out for a spin at lunchtime. Jeez by the time I'd got everything sorted I was so over it.
Here's a picture of Cairn in his Baby Jogger. You can tell he's distinctly underwhelmed by the experience. He's got a look that says: "When I can speak, I'm going to tell everyone I'm adopted". I know he's secretly wishing he'd going to wake up in the reality TV show or that someone is going to slip up and call him Truman. The Baby Jogger is light and easy to maneuver, but it doesn't mean it's easy to run with. It will definitely take a bit of getting used to. I liken it to the first time I ran with a waist/back pack. I thought it was a restrictive nightmare at first, but now it's second skin. Regardless of the mechanics, I'm still pushing over two stone in front of me (Cairn is now 16lbs!). My arms ached from the word go, so hopefully continued use might strengthen them.
Today I managed a 10-mile out-and-back over to Croftamie. It's a undulating country road, so only a handful of cars passed me. I'm going to use the Jogger on quiet roads and cycle paths. No bumps and pavements. Today I drove up to the start of the road though. Not only because I didn't want to tackle pavements, but I don't think Alexandria is quite ready for a Baby Jogger. It would just look like I'd stolen a baby.
It's only 10 weeks until the Devil o' the Highlands and I'm having a slight panic. I know many readers of this blog will think that 43 miles with a little tiny 5000ft in ascent is a walk in the park. Though for every one of you, there's a million who think it just plain stupid. But for me it's my biggest (running) challenge of the year and one that's making me slightly edgy right now.
The first time I did this race in 2007, I was a little cocky to say the least. I distinctly remember sending Sonic a weblink with the subject title "Fancy this?" My reasoning was: "surely if we can run a marathon, we can walk/jog this?". Pah! We did one training run - from Kingshouse to Fort William - which nearly had me in crutches for a week. I was truly and utterly broken. You know the runs that have you practically in tears towards the end? Let's just say I wasn't so cocky after that. I wasn't even sure I would make to the end of the race let alone make it within the 12 hour cut off time. But somehow I scraped my sorry ass over the finishing line in 8:48. It was certainly a life changing experience. Now our whole lives revolve around the glorious trails of the West Highland Way. Cairn has seen more trails than the inside of his crib. Thankfully he's so happy and content, that we can take him anywhere.
So in the midst of my panic I decided to take in two long runs over the bank holiday weekend. As Sonic was taking part in the two-day training weekend, it involved regimental planning: three shopping trips, two cars, a caravan, 450 miles of driving and 120 miles of running. Not to mention drop-off bags, checkpoint pit stops and the small matter of a small child.
My first run was from Kingshouse to Fort William. Just a piddly 23.5 miles with 3000ft of ascent. The main aims were to finish it, enjoy it and feel better than I did on my first attempt. Big tick on all three. I loved it. It was a glorious sunny day and I felt brilliant the whole way. It was great having Sonic as support, although his skills aren't as fine-tuned as mine. When I got to Kinlochleven he was in full-on panic because Cairn needed feed AND changed. As babies do. And when I got to Lundarva he was busy cleaning his car with babywipes. WTF? He did turn up in all the right places and tell me I looked good, even thought he was telling fibs. I have learnt of late what difficult, often tedious and thankless task supporting is, so I really appreciate my boys coming out.
I did (kind of) return the favour by supporting Sonic on his two-day adventure. I let him take my car and leave it at Balmaha. Surely that's helping? I didn't make it up until the troops (Sonic, JK, Sharon and Davie) were over the lochside. Davie had texted me en route and me to pick him up, as his ITB was giving him jip. No problem thought I. I'd soon be passing his pick-up point. What he neglected to mention was that he wasn't actually there yet... before he dissappeared out of mobile signal. I drove up and down the A82, in out of the farm road and back and fourth to Tyndrum. I couldn't get hold of anyone and couldn't find Davie. I was convinced he was hiding in bushes laughing at me. I swear the Nazis could have found Anne Frank quicker. By the time I found Sonic et al I was a bit on the ratty side. They duly informed me that the abandoned Davie was behind them. One more drive down the road and there he was. Looking like a drowned rate. And smelling like a wet dog. Nevertheless, he was still upbeat - considering.
After having dinner in the Bridge of Orchy Hotel and a night at the Pinetrees in Tyndrum, Sonic set off on day two of JK's pacing class. Late. Maybe he slowed down his pace a bit too much. Actually maybe that's why he goes off too fast at the beginning - because he's always late and has to catch up on time? Mmm there's food for thought.
I spent the day with Mrs JK, Dr Crazy German and Davie. At least we knew when Sonic and JK would be arriving. You can set your heart by JK's timings. When I asked Mrs JK what her thoughts were on ETAs she said with a smirk: "What, you don't have a laminated sheet with splits and pace?" I'm sure it would have been useful if we referred to it. I think JK was a little close to spitting the dummy as I continued to ask him about arrival times. Obviously not referring to said laminated sheet.
So Monday, it was back to my turn for running. I opted to run back to Balmaha to pick up my car. The original plan was to spend Sunday night in the caravan and run along the loch back to Balmaha. But after spending a rainy Sunday in the car, I couldn't face being coped up in another tin can, so we just drove home.
My quads were still very tendor, but I thought I'd give it a bash. I even put the bus timetable in my rucksack in case I decided to bow out early. I ran over the horseshoe to meet the WHW before Drymen. I took it easy and wasn't even remotely bothered that I reached Drymen three minutes behind last week's time. In hindsight the reserved pace meant I could run all the way to the bottom of Conic Hill - even the nasty inclines. And even managed to run up about 40% of Conic. My quads were only causing me grief on the downhills. Actually it took me 19 mins to get up Conic Hill and 16 mins to come off the other side. I think I mentally yelped the whole way down. Despite the slow start I finished one minute faster than last week and felt a million times better. Proper pacing definitely makes a huge difference. Doesn't it. Sonic?
On another note: On the way back from Fort William on Sunday we discussed the changes being made on the West Highland Way. Horrible new gates, removing stiles, clearing forest, detour paths etc... All because of health and safety. You can tell the decision makers have never walked the WHW. This is my favourite H&S hazard - on the way to Drymen.
The path over the bridge often floods.
Which forces hikers/runners to walk along the small wall. Don't want to get wet feet afterall.
But steady those wobbly legs as there's 30ft drop on to the rocky river below.
Maybe I shouldn't have pointed this out. There will probably be a handrail there next week.
This weekly blogging is becoming a bit of a habit. Maybe I'm not superwoman after all. I'm mean with being a full-time working Mother (minus the childcare), 247 milk machine, maid, cook, coach and wannabe athlete, you'd think I'd have loads of time on my hands. Thankfully I'm a member of the fairer sex and just get on with it. Although I did take it to a new level last week I was feeding Cairn, making the dinner and replying to emails on my Blackberry at the same time.
So I've been back working for the last couple of weeks. Well, working from home. I wasn't sure I was motivated enough, but I actually get loads more done. And I'm lovin' it. Not that I've ever been away from work you understand. Sonic used to threaten to confiscate my Blackberry.
Although I love hanging out with Cairn, I'm so not cut-out to be a stay-at-home-Mom. I did try the baby group thing. A baby massage class, in fact. The first couple of weeks were great. But by week five we were still talking about our childbirth experiences and breastfeeding, so I losing the will to live. Maybe they were a little more wholesome than me. Especially when they were excitedly telling me about the Baby Rhythm Time class they go to on a Friday morning. I found myself saying: "oh that would be lovely" when really I thinking: "I'd rather stab myself in the eye with a rusty compass". I never went back.
I have converted the room (uh hum, cupboard) under the stairs into my office. Now I know how Harry Potter felt. I spend many long hours without even a window for sanity. I pretty much start work as soon as I get up. Given the light mornings, can be as early as 5am. When we move house, I promise I'm going to buy black-out blinds. My early morning meanderings could be grounds for divorce. The only thing with working from home, is there's no cut off point. No 9 to 5. So I could be sitting at my PC at 6am and still working at 10pm.
I'm usually up and organised before Cairn even stirs. And he sleeps through the night. I know, I've been blessed. Actually there was a day last week, when I had to wake him up at 9.45am. Not because it might mess up his routine, but because I was starting to look like Lola Ferrari. Anyway, I wished I had left him sleeping. Within the space of 30 minutes he'd puked on me, peed on the carpet and sh*t in the bath. Babies, eh? Can't live with 'em. Can't sell them on Ebay :-)
This week it's been a hard slog trying to fit in some running and general exercise. On Tuesday night, I did my usual 10-mile on the Balloch Horseshoe. Sonic always mocks me for running the same routes all the time. Does anyone else do this? I don't usually like a route until I've done it a few times. On Thursday, I did my usual seven mile tempo run round Dumbarton. See me, see creature of habit.
But wait, On Saturday I pushed the boat right out and did something different - I ran from the house (via Drymen) to Balmaha. OK it starts on the Balloch Horseshoe and I have ran from Drymen to Balmaha more times than I can mention, but I've never linked it all together. And I've never done the bit in the middle. Does this count? Wow what a great route. Undulating country roads, peaceful cycle paths and then onto the West Highland Way before Drymen. I knew this was going to be a tough 18.5 mile run, but I didn't really flag until I got to Conic Hill. I was pretty glad my journey would be over at the other side. I tried to run as much as I could, but was reduced to walking at the mega steep bits. Except when I jogged past a group of hikers and I overheard one saying "Look, there's a fell runner". Oh boll*cks! I felt obliged to keep going to save face. Thankfully the wind was behind me on the way up, but it didn't help on the descent on the other side. Being pushed off a steep muddy hill in road shoes wasn't pleasant. And the fact that my quads were screaming didn't help. Hopefully giving my legs are good kickin' should see me right for my first long run on the WHW - Kingshouse to Fort William. It's my favourite section, so I can't wait.
The Women's 10K in Glasgow. It was my first ever race, so it's a bit like a birthday celebration for me. I don't think I would have signed up for this year's if it wasn't for the fact that I want to do it every year. Even if I have to crawl round (don't quote me on that). Today would be race number 8. I had no idea what to expect. I haven't done any speed work for over a year. And the 10Ks I did when I was preggers were just for giggles.
Basically I'm starting from a clean slate. A new personal best (PB) is now a new post baby (PB). Over the last two months it's been great monitoring the improvement ever time I go out. Hopefully this will continue until I meet and surpass where I left off.
Today's run was great. I loved every minute of it. How often do you get to say you loved a 10K? I think it was the no pressure and no preconceived ideas of time/splits/pace. I just started out steady and maintained the effort the whole way. I crossed the line in 48:57 with a huge smile, as it was way better than I had expected. I finished 324 out of 10740 runners, so I'm delighted. I think that's top 3%. Not bad for my first race back. It's onward and upwards me thinks.
Average pace: 7:49 Splits: 7:50, 8:01, 7:42, 7:56, 8:06, 7:31.
And for anyone who thinks this race is flat, here's proof that there are a few cheeky hills.
The race was won by Linet Masai in 31:30. Check out the picture I found on Flickr. Big Rob (worse than a man down) rubbing shoulders with the elite :-)
I know, it's been a while. There's been a fair amount of running, but not a lot worth wibbering about. Plus I don't have the time or the inclination to bore you to death with a mile-by-mile report. And there isn't much point listing: I ran eight miles. The pace was 8 m/m. It was sunny. I liked it. Yada yada.
So, here's a synopsis of my running week. At the club training weekend, I was VERY well behaved. Well, for me anyway. I blame Jill on forgetting the Playstation leads, so we couldn't have a Singstar competition. Resorting to playing Pictionary on a flipchart using Trivia Pursuit answers (don't ask)...is enough to send anyway for an early night.
On the Sunday I had volunteered to join Kas on a 20 miler. Kas is running the Edinburgh Marathon at the end of the month, and this run was to be the tip of the training plan run. I knew it was a bit of jump for me - the longest run this year being 14 miles - but I figured as I was running with Kas my ears would ache more than my legs :-) As we were up in Callander we used the number 7 cycle route - which I'm sure Mark Beaumont used to cycle round the world. Is there anywhere that path doesn't go? The weather was nice, cool and clear. Perfect for a long run. The plan was to pace Kas round on 10m/m. We remained pretty steady, but by 12 miles my thighs were killing me. Long suffering readers of this blog may recall I had problems with my adductors and hips a while back. You may also remember I always refer to them as adductors, as I refuse point blank to call is groin strain. It's so graphic and 5-aside-like. So anyway, it was pretty long drawn out journey to the end. Kas was practicing with gels, which she duly informed me "didn't agree" with her. On the contrary, I've never seen her so happy. It was like she'd been plugged into the mains. Despite being adamant that she would take over four hours, we finished in 3:18. Kas is a sensible (pah! I'll never say that again) even paced runner, so I predict 4:15 for her marathon.
On Sunday night, I was buckled. I couldn't sit, stand or lie down. My thighs had their own pulse. I had to go to bed early as I was starting to annoy myself with my constant whining. I was pretty sure I would be out of running for a while, but on Monday morning I felt way better. And on Tuesday I did a fabulous five-miler - with one minute intervals from mile two. Thursday night I ran eight mile with the club. And that, folks, is it. Ta da. One brief summary.
I took Friday and Saturday off, as I always like two days rest before a race. Women's 10K tomorrow. Sonic had signed up for the Cateran Trail 23 today, so I thought I'd be the dutiful wife and go along for support. I did tell him that if we had to get up at the crack of dawn and drive forever to get there for the early start, that he would have to organise himself. I would sort out myself and Cairn. I always mock Sonic for being "hand-knitted". A delightfully apt phrase that I picked up from the aforementioned Kas. The one who refers to her husband as "worse than a man down". In Sonic's defense he doesn't have much of an option. I'm a complete control freak that must do EVERYTHING. But I did laugh when I told him he had to go shopping to get the stuff he needs to eat before/during/after the race and he responded: "No problem. What will I want to eat?" In all seriousness too. And this is why I say I have two children to organise.
This weekend we're off to Callander for the annual Garscube Harriers' training weekend. I say training in the loosest way possible. It's usually a bit of a messy affair. There's traditionally a lot of late boozing, a Singstar competition and very dodgy morning runs. Actually one year I was so ill, I pretended I had a stop to tie my lace...waited until everyone was out of view and went back to bed.
This year I'll need to be a little more sensible. Not only will be have Cairn on tow, but Coach Lesley will be there to keep us line. Plus, I've probably been drinking too much for a gal who's supposed to be exclusively breastfeeding. There seems to be more bottles being introduced. Bottles of wine for me. And bottles of formula milk for Cairn. Thankfully Cairn - like Sonic - doesn't mind where his food comes from. As long as it's frequent and in abundance. I swear he would suck milk off a dirty cloth. Cairn that is, not Sonic.
So I've had two girlie nights with my Sis and Sharon, which have ended less than graceful. And I was at the Scottish Press Awards at the Radisson last week: In a dress, with make-up, lady shoes and a very, very small bag. It felt a little strange going out with light luggage. Anyway like all awards ceremonies, there were a lot of audience quiet moments, which unfortunately meant too much of the complimentary wine was consumed. I did laugh when the invite said the bar would be open until 3am. I'm pretty well-known for my inability to function after 10pm. The only way I would see 3am is if I needed a pee of a pillow fluff-up. I did think 11.30 would be do-able though. But I texted Sonic at 10.30pm asking if he would come and pick me up as I was "tipsy and tired". In reality I descended the marble staircase like I'd just been shot. I probably only had the equivalent of 3/4 glasses of wine - which were diluted with soda - but I gibbered utter p*sh all the way home and suffered from the wrath of the grape on Friday. Every time I half-heatedly sign the pledge never to drink wine again, but it's just too good. Pity the love is unrequited.
Anyway. Running. Let's talk about running. This evening I went out with the club. Not without precise planning though. I meet Sonic at his office and picked up his gear, whilst he went on a six mile run up to Bearsden. I drove up to the club, feed Cairn and then handed the parental duties over to Sonic. Reminding him not to throw him in the air as he's only three months old. Sometimes is best not to know what they get up to. When I came back from my run on Tuesday, Sonic excitedly informed me: "Look! He's eating banana". Help me, Boab.
I'm digressing again. Tonight's run was an "out and back". The plan was to run out (along the f-king canal!!) for 25 minutes and then turn and run the same distance back in the same time. It's supposed to be about even pacing, but I felt pretty rubbish when I set out, so I did the return journey in 22:50. I was tempted to hide behind a tree and spare the wrath of Coach Lesley, but I was willing it to be over. I only averaged 8:30m/m as I felt my legs were so stiff and heavy. I might need to reintroduce speed work sooner than planned.
Apart from running about after Sonic (and not just on the WHW) I have been pounding the streets myself. I'm nearly up to 30 miles per week. Woohoo, ho'd me back. I've had some cracking 10 mile runs. And a 14-miler that nearly cracked me. Every run gets better and faster. The fact that I'm getting lighter (down to 8st 6lbs)has really helped. I definitely feel lighter on my feet. Still a wee bit to go until I feel comfortable in my pre-preggers jeans, but definitely moving in the right direction. I suppose three months on, I can't use the baby weight as an excuse. Especially when the baby weight is sitting in his Bumbo watching BBC news right now. Strange kid, I know.
I've been using a 10-mile route on the Balloch Horseshoe to gage how things are going. Before I was preggers (and the week after London marathon) I completed the run in 1:22. At the end of March I did it in 1:35, which I thought was good until I came back at looked up my previous time. Last week I ran with Sara in 1:35 and on Sunday I ran myself in 1:24. So I'm getting there. I still haven't done any speed work. I'm going to wait until Mid-May and after the Ladies 10K. Then I'll be in serious training for the Devils race in August. I have no idea how I will get on in the 10K. And to be fair, I'm not really that bothered. The only reason I'm running it is because it was my first race way back in 2002 and I would like to complete it every year. If I got under 50 minutes I would be absolutely delighted. But I would be happy with anything under 55. Although I did the Paisley 10K at five months pregnant in 54 minutes, so I would have to have a serious word with myself if it was anything slower. I'll be shelving my 2008 goal of a sub:45 for another year, I think.
Although I think I'm doing OK, I would like to mention my crazy blog buddy Natalie, who ran the Boston Marathon in 4:21 - 10 weeks after having her baby son. That's four minutes faster than my first marathon. Well done, Natalie.
Congratulations to everyone who ran the London Marathon at the weekend. Special congrats to Paul (Brother Sonic) who ran after being injured for three weeks, Athole who ran a stormer in 3:05 and Coach Lesley. We came home on Sunday - with no radio, mobiles or news updates - only to discover the Skybox had crashed :-( It was quite sad to watch the marathon on TV. I ran London in 2004, 2005, 2006 (2007 I did Paris Marathon) and 2008. I've got a guaranteed place for next year, after getting 3:31:00 in 2008, so I might go back and give it another bash. But again, it's on the same weekend as the Fling, so I'm torn.
Anyway, I forgot to mention the most amazing athletic performance of the month. Forget Usain Bolt, you should have seen Dr Crazy German sprint across the carpark when a certain Mr Bragg was in need to some painkillers. Wow I've never seen a burd move so fast :-) We're both running the Devil's this year. I hope we don't have the same competitive rivalry as our husbands, or I'm in serious trouble :-) :-)
My wise pre-race words to Sonic were: "Run your own race and ignore everyone else. If you don't get the time you're after, you can say whatever you want at the end: You got injured, you blew up, ran out of energy..anything. Just do not tell me you went off to fast". Now anyone who knows Sonic, will probably be chuckling at my ambitious advice. Especially when six miles into the 53 miles, he appeared on the horizon right on the shoulder of the course record-holder and North Face sponsored ultra-human, ultra running, Jez Bragg. I was rolling my eyes so much, it took me nearly an hour to regain focus.
And, surprise, surprise, 12 miles on at the first check-point in Drymen he was still in hot pursuit. Even one of my "LOOKS" didn't dampen his sprits, as he was off bounding down the track like a Labrador that had been let out a car.
Needless to say, 20 miles in, his arrival at Balmaha was somewhat less jovial. He was 20 minutes ahead of schedule, but still in good form. Sonic must be the easiest runner in the world to support. All he fuels on is energy drink and gels. Throw in the odd jelly baby and sandwich and my job is pretty simple. So other than the fact it takes me almost as long to drive as it does to run, I had loads of time to chat, cheer and take pictures.
Because of the staggered start - females and vets start at 6am and the rest start at 7am - there was plenty of action and support teams about. It did get a bit confusing trying to work out the runner's postitions though.
Sonic was still 15 minutes ahead of schedule at Rowardennan and still looking fit. He set off on the 14 miles of the Lochside, whilst I started the journey of driving round to the other side - which can take up to an hour and a half. Although runner's always moan about the Lochside, I think the support teams get the short straw.
Watching runners appear over the bridge at Beinglas Farm is like watching the Dawn of the Dead. The lochside is notorious for zapping every ounce of life out of you. What's worse is that hitting the top of the Loch is like almost the end, but in reality there's another 12 miles of very undulating (f-ing hilly) terrain to battle.
Sonic appeared in Beinglas looking very white, after losing all the time he'd gained in the first section. He was still on target for his race goal of 8:25, but was in danger of losing it. Especially as his knee was throbbing and the girls were trying to get him to take a seat - and I was pulling him off it and telling him to get a move on. I know, I'm a bad bitch, but I only had his best interests at heart.
I stopped at the A82 about four miles along. I really hate this support point. I always feel slightly queasy stopping and getting out the car, whilst cars are flying passed at 60/70/80 miles an hour. It's a pretty straight road, so drivers really put the foot down and motorcycles dice with death. You can imagine how far my jaw dropped when I saw another support team doing a three-point-turn. WTF??
After I packed up my bag of goodies and put Cairn in his baby carrier (which is almost an operation) I headed down to the track with kathy and Silke - Dr Crazy German and wife of Sonic's biggest "friendly" rival, Tom the Crazy German. Sonic had stayed ahead of the Crazy German all day, but I knew when he appeared first my weekend was in danger of going t*ts up. Thankfully I was entertained by the Crazy Germans shouting at each other in their Mother tongue and throwing sparkling mineral water everywhere. What a diva you are Tom :-) Most people would happily cool off with some tap water. But no, not you.
Sonic arrived soon after. Walking. Of course the only thing he requested was the only thing I hadn't dragged down to the trail, his road shoes. So off I scrambled running through the tunnel and up the steps - with Cairn strapped to my front and a bag of food on my shoulder. After shouting at Sonic to change is shoes faster and stop sulking about "everyone passing" - everyone being the Crazy German - I gave him a knee strap handful of grapes and pushed him onwards.
My last support stop was to be the Wigwams, which is about 2-3 miles from the finish. I drove along to the finish in the hope of seeing the winners crossing the line, but I was too late. Jez had broken his own record and finished in 7:19. Now you can understand my previous angst.
Back at the farm I met up with Mrs JK, the long suffering wife and support of, obviously, JK. Although he was still on for a storming time, he wasn't his usual cheery self. As previously mentioned, I'm convinced little birds dress JK in the morning. But what was this? Could he have been close to spitting the dummy? :-)
After sharon went blazing through to secure a fabulous third place, I was willing Sonic to appear so I could get to the end to see her finish. I didn't have to wait for long as he came jogging/hopping down the trail in a much healthier state than the last time I saw him.
So back in the car, it was nearly over. And I was bloody exhausted. Between getting up at 4am, driving, supporting and looking after a three month old baby, I barely had time to stop let alone eat or drink anything.
Sharon finished third lady in a fabulous time of 9hr 41. And still smiling. As she had to leave, I got to pick up her prize - much to the confusion of many spectators.
Sonic finished in 8h:52. 15th position out of 242. Although he seemed quite dissapointed, I was totally over the moon for him. And to be fair if he knew that was going to be his time before the race, he would have been delighted with that. No guesses as to what he said his race faults were :-) I could say, he's just a boy at a bad age, but his plans for sorting out his race strategy was short-lived. On the way home he was still analysing the top runner's pace and splits. With he learn in time for the big race in June? Stop shaking your head. I've got eight weeks to drum it into him...
...in one ear and out of the other
But at least Sonic and the Crazy Germans are still pals. Although it looks like Sonic was off to drown his sorrows.
Big huge congratulations to everyone who ran, supported, organised and marshalled such a fabulous race.
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