Week 8: A bit of a low point

Good evening from me and from Sloth.  We are both knackered.

This week has been a bit of an eye opener in terms of the impact of sleep, or the lack thereof, on how my body recovers from running.

Life sometimes means I just don't get enough sleep.  I'm not talking about a few missed hours here and there, but real sleep deprivation.  I've often said in the past that I wonder if part of the reason I take a long time to recover from harder runs is because my body isn't getting the rest it needs.  There are other factors that I've identified, particularly diet related, but I've often felt sleep is a factor.  I have never understood why some people can do a hard parkrun or short race on Saturday, then go on and do another longer race on Sunday.  My legs say no.

I've been lucky in that since I've started marathon training I've generally been getting enough sleep.  I've also really increased the protein in my diet, and the amount of water I'm drinking.  Suddenly my body has been telling me it can in fact cope with running five days a week, several hard runs, long miles, and actually while I've been tired I've been recovering really well.

This week life has been extremely stressful and I've had nowhere near enough sleep.  Despite doing a comparatively light week, and despite doing much less mileage, I've really struggled in the latter part of the week.

Wednesday morning I did a monster interval session and felt incredibly strong, quicker than I normally would be on the distances I was doing, my form felt good, strong core, huge stride, lots of power and bounce.  I felt awesome.  I then went to the gym and did a good strength session.  This is a day that would normally leave me feeling tired and achy, but by the next day I'd be recovered enough to do a longish gentle run, and the day after that my legs would have been OK again.  Not this week.  Wednesday was the first night of almost no sleep and Thursday I felt rotten, tired and very sore.  I hauled myself out for a few short miles and was reminded of a friend's comment recently about turning into a shuffler.  At the time I was adamant that even when I run slowly, I most definitely do not shuffle.  I shuffled a bit.  

Friday didn't provide the recovery it should have done and on Saturday morning after yet another highly physical day managing a struggling child and another night of severely interrupted sleep, I was tired and drained of all energy and bounce.  Following Wednesday's interval session I'd decided to go down to parkrun on Saturday with the intent of having a good go at a PB.  I felt like I had the form for it.  In fairness Saturday was very windy so even feeling fresh that would have been a tall order, but I felt like I had a really strong run in me.  By Saturday I felt like a completely different person.  I made myself get up near the front and promised myself even if the time wasn't good, I was going to put some effort in.  Even on the first 1500m with the wind largely behind me I knew I just didn't have it in my legs.  My form was good, I probably looked like I was running well, but I could feel a definite ache and heaviness in my legs and it was already harder work than it should have been.  Even at the turn into the wind when four big blokes decided to charge past me and provide a helpful wind shield, a situation that - like any good scrawny girl - I am normally more than happy to take advantage of, I was still struggling.  Struggling with tiredness and willpower to keep pushing.  I did in the end take advantage of the backrunner of the chunky bloke group but he was slowing significantly and faced with the choice of sitting behind him or pushing on I took the lazy option.  

I was on the verge of giving up and chugging the rest when a lovely bloke from the club trotted up next to me and provided some much needed company and encouragement.  Actually, once I had someone to run with I felt somewhat better, which goes to show that while I was very definitely tired part of the problem was in the head.  My mood wasn't good and that was having an impact.  I ran the second lap focussing on staying with Paddy and running well.  It was never going to be an awesome run with the wind and my tiredness, but I did at least manage a decent last km and I pushed myself to work hard despite feeling rubbish.  At the time I felt pretty crap about the whole thing, I'd busted a gut for a shitty time and a run which was a million miles from the one I felt capable of, but actually in retrospect at least I can say I tried and winning that mental battle not to give up when things aren't going well is important for me.

Sunday, after another bad night's sleep, and I was again heavy footed and weary and the 14 miles at a very steady pace was a bit of a chore.  I knew I could do it, but it was a lot harder work than it should have been.  Fortunately I had some company and that really helped, in part to make the miles past, and in part to offload some of the shittyness of my week.  Perhaps I may not have that particular running companion again soon!

So, it's been a tough week.  I think there's been some lessons learned from last week's long run and this week's but I'm too tired to want to sort through that right now too.  For now, I just need to hope that this week is easier and more restful, because the training should be going back up again and I need to feel better than I have done the last few days to be able to do that.

Week 7 Part 2: The tough one

If last week was a week to celebrate hard work with a classy glass of prosecco, this week was definitely more of an open the wine while making the kids' tea occasion.

It occurred to me on Thursday that Wednesday and Thursday's training sessions are actually a bit of a drag.  Thursday's would be fun if my legs weren't so tired, and Wednesday's is a ball ache.  Once I've done the Thursday run I feel like I'm on the downhill slope, even though I'm only about half way there in terms of the week's planned mileage.  Saturday is parkrun, and I like parkrun.  Sunday is the long run, and I like the challenge of that, but also enjoy the run.  It's not my steadiest run of the week although it's certainly run at a comfortable pace, and I'm just enjoying that feeling of it getting easier each week  The feeling when I'm running in a good rhythm, chatting to friends, and then I suddenly realise I'm 12 miles into the run and wonder how that happened is great.  The distances mean I go to more scenic places than the streets of Long Eaton, although that isn't difficult, but I enjoy that too.  

This weekend did not go quite to plan. 

Saturday morning was icy and I slipped over warming up for parkrun.  It wasn't very icy, but I found myself a good bit and suddenly my feet were not where they should be.  I clearly remember falling, worrying about twisting my knee or ankle, catching myself, and not hitting the ground.  This is clearly not what happened.  I felt sick at the time but not hurt, just a bit shaken, and did the parkrun anyway.  I eased into it and ran the first 3k pretty steadily but picked it up nicely on the final 2km despite a nagging nausea which nearly resulted in post parkrun puking.  When I got home and got changed and saw the state of my right leg I realised that actually I'd given myself quite a hard wack when I fell.  The nausea instantly went and was replaced by good old fashioned pain.  It's funny how the body and mind work sometimes, I still don't recall hitting the ground and would have sworn I hadn't quite, but clearly I was wrong.  Luckily no serious harm has been done, the leg was just sore, and by the time I woke up on Sunday it was only really sore if I poked it.  I made a note not to poke it and got ready for Sunday's run which at 20 miles was the longest yet.

Sunday morning was also icy, and cold, and wet, and sleety with a bit of snow thrown in for good measure.  I considered changing the route to avoid some of the more exposed parts and try and keep to dirt tracks which I mistakenly thought may be better underfoot, but on the way to meet people it didn't feel too bad so we went with the original route.  My companions this morning were Sophie who runs with another local club and who I've run with a few times, and another girl who I've not run with before.  Said young lady turned up looking disgustingly young, healthy, tanned and bouncy.  Anyone training for an ultra marathon in January, in the snow, wearing shorts, intimidates me a little, no matter how nice they are.  Despite feeling a lot older and frumpier in my many layers than I normally do I also felt pretty bouncy as we set off and fell into a good rhythm quite easily.  Maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all.

Someone said to me a while back that every marathon has one training run which is an absolutely miserable soggy cold stinker and this was going to turn into that run.

The first 10 miles of the run passed relatively uneventfully.  I was fascinated watching the girl I'd not run with before; I've never seen anyone so light on their feet.  Yes, the pace was very steady for her, but I swear she was barely touching the floor.  I love watching people who run well run and she certainly did.  It also made me more aware of form and making sure I was standing up straight and trying to stay light.  I felt pretty clumpy in comparison. 

But still, we were going along fine, I'm used to this now, we were running 8s or a little quicker and dealt with the hills fine.  I'd planned the run so that the hills and headwind came in the early to middle part of the run.  I knew the wind direction was due to change mid-afternoon but as we were due to be back well before then it should be fine.  Miles 10-12 were spent being scoured by ice and snow and were pretty unpleasant.  I was very well wrapped up but my face was getting cold, my hands were starting to hurt just a little from the cold, and I was getting soggy, but my legs felt OK and I wasn't too concerned because I knew that we'd soon be on flat canal and river paths with the wind behind us and the free exfoliation would end.

I'd imagined the canal paths would be much easier to run on than the roads which were snowy but not too slippy.  I could not have been more wrong.  Slippy iced over puddles with freezing muddy water underneath, patches of rutted frozen mud, sloppy mud, snow with patches of ice hidden underneath, everything that makes it hard to just get into a rhythm and run.  Around mile 15 it occurred to me that we'd done a 180 degree turn from the last ice scouring and were being scoured again... the wind had changed direction earlier than forecast.  This was turning into a properly rotten run.  Chatter stopped, I was struggling to talk because my face was so cold and I could hear one of the other girls was having the same problem.  In my normal manner when the run got tough I started to pick the pace up and then forced myself to slow again and keep the effort level fairly constant.  I just wanted this run to be done, there's no denying this was no longer fun. 

About 17 miles in I had a very guilty moment when we passed Trent Meadows where my club's home cross country was taking place.  I could hear the shouting and I should really have run or marshalled there, but this was my only opportunity to long run this weekend and I'd prioritised it.  It occurred to me that we were pretty much doing cross country by this stage but in much less appropriate footwear than I'd normally use.  That thought tickled me.  I felt a bit more guilty for being encouraged by hearing people cheering for club members, but it did pick me up a bit.  Sorry!

We made it, no-one fell on the ice, and we didn't even bleed off much speed in dealing with it.  When we hit 20 miles it felt fantastic, I felt properly hard core for completing it, and I'm sure my silly pleased with myself grin matched the one I could see plastered on Sophie's face.  Immediately followed by an agreement to walk the last couple of hundred meters to the car park.  Last week we finished strong and could have gone further, this week we were clearly done.  Cold, wet, trainers full of water, and unable to talk properly, but we did it and surprisingly, finished on the pace we'd been aiming for.  I think it's safe to say that's going to be one of the toughest, if not the toughest, long run that we'll do in preparing for this marathon.

And there ends another three weeks of build up.  Next week is all about giving my body a break from the high mileage and doing the shorter runs I enjoy with, I hope, a little more bounce and energy.  An extra rest day, no "junk" miles for the sake of miles, and a mere 14 miles long run at a steady pace with the aim of starting the week after feeling fresh.

Week 7 Part 1: Dirty, secretive, treadmill running... with headphones!

I did my weekly interval session on the treadmill this morning.  There are lots of good reasons I don't do this regularly.  Primarily because it's easier, and that defeats the point of doing intervals.  They're not meant to be easy after all.  There's no wind to consider, no uneven ground or corners, and the treadmill encourages you to keep going providing some of the willpower for you.  You can't bleed off speed when you get tired, you need to maintain pace or make a concious decision to slow it down.  The other reason I don't like to run on the treadmill is I invariably find I'm heavier on my feet, I really feel the impact of treadmill running on my joints.

Sometimes though, I feel like I really benefit from doing treadmill interval sessions. 

I can watch myself running.  This was the main reason I took the interval session inside today.  I noticed on a couple of photos from the parkrun at the weekend my arms were trailing just a little and my posture was not quite what it normally is.  It wasn't terrible, but I don't want to get into bad habits.  Running on the treadmill allows me to watch myself run as I get tired and focuses me on making sure my form is good.  I ran on the treadmill to critique my running and remind me to focus on form when I'm getting tired.  I see a lot of benefit in this.

I run faster and for longer.  Because treadmill running is easier, I do my workouts faster to compensate for that, normally by around 10 s/mile.  The treadmill may encourage me to keep going, but I've still got to actually run it, so it conditions my body to run that hard for longer.  

I listen to music and it helps me to distract me when I'm getting tired.  When I get really tired, it annoys me and I take the headphones off.  The only thing that helps when I'm towards the end of the last reps is reciting nursery rhymes or just words to my self in time to my running, but it helps to stave off that point by distracting me through the part of the workout that's merely uncomfortable rather than lung bursting out of chest painful.

I don't need to worry about pace.  Again, once I start thinking about whether I'm slowing down I start to look at my watch, speed up, slow down, and focus too much on how long is left of the rep.  It makes it drag and I get stressed by it.  I'd be the first to admit there's a skill to running a constant pace which I sometimes lack and there's mileage to be had in practising that, but sometimes I think there's mileage to be had in just setting yourself a difficult but achievable target and then telling yourself you will run at the pace you've set until the treadmill slows down and tells you the interval is over.  In terms purely of building fitness I feel this has to be effective, and I believe I've had good results from it in the past.

There is nothing to stop for.  No roads to cross, no buggies, no groups of people walking side by side across the whole path, no extending dog leads, no kids on scooters looking over their shoulders.  Short of running on the track there's no other place I can get this.

So, today's session was on the treadmill.  I was pleased with how I maintained form.  Awareness of what I wasn't happy with at the weekend helped me focus and I felt like my form was good by my standards.  I did an unusual session that I haven't done before, more geared towards half and full marathon distances.  The session was 10 lots of 4 minute intervals with 2 minute jogging recoveries.  Clearly with 40 minutes of effort and moving recoveries it was not going to be at the pace I'd normally do 4 minute intervals.  The plan was to start the session at the top end of tempo pace, with the last reps close to 5k pace.  Given I was doing it on the treadmill I took 10 seconds a mile off the target paces I had set myself, and started at 6:40 minute mile pace, gradually working up to 6:15 minute mile pace for the last.  I couldn't have come close to maintaining that pace on the last rep if I'd been running outside, I'm certainly not kidding myself about that, but I still did it and my heart rate and legs told me that I really was doing it, so surely my fitness has to benefit?

Next week I'll have the questionable enjoyment of being able to make it to the club's track session which I'm sure will be a horrible kick up the arse; the usual mental struggle to carry on when I get tired early on and convince myself I can't do the session will hit, and I need to learn to battle through that better.  For this week, I think I've got the most I could out of that workout by doing it inside.

Week 6 Part 3: Fuelled by prosecco!

Moving on to the second half of the week, wow, wasn't I whiny earlier in the week?  I must be catching it off the kids.  I should probably point out that only the writing this week has been fuelled by prosecco, not the running.  That doesn't work, I know that, and my bottle this morning was water and nothing else.

Friday didn't work any magic, and I woke up on Saturday morning still tired but ready to get my arse in gear.  I rocked up for parkrun with the intent of putting a good effort in but not destroying myself or my legs, and with realistic expectations given tiredness; as long as I ran under 21 minutes I'd be happy.  Actually after a fairly moderate first lap I picked it up a bit and ran 20:21.  I didn't really have much in the way of bounce, I had to work at the running, but my fitness and strength were there.  I quite enjoyed the run and felt strong on the second lap.  I had a little giggle to myself when the bloke I'd been using as a wind shield for a while grumbled at me at the end for abusing his bulk and then leaving him.  I'm a heartless (scrawny) woman, and guilty as charged.  I was definitely feeling better.

By Sunday I was again reaping the reward of not burning myself out on Saturday and both I and my legs felt better than they had on Saturday.  I seem to be generally recovering pretty well which I'm attributing in large part to a massive increase in protein in my diet, and in particular to protein immediately post run.  I even felt a teeny bit boingy on the way to meet my running companions for Sunday's long run and while that didn't last for long, I did at least feel like my body was moving well today.

I was viewing my companions with a certain amount of distrust this morning.  A number of people I know who are marathon training did their long run yesterday.  One mentioned her plans to write a book about how to hide her co-runners' bodies after she'd murdered them on a long run.  At the time my immediate thought was "I never really feel like that".  In the middle of the night it occurred to me that maybe this was because I was the annoying one that everyone wanted to bump off.  Entirely possible, I'd be the first to admit, and I'd organised a run along the river this morning!  They've always seemed very nice and normal people, but you just never know.  I briefly considered the amusing thought of turning up in a life jacket.  I held onto that thought in the hope it may give me a chuckle when the going got tough.

I have a terrible habit of pushing the pace on long runs even when I'm tired.  I always run towards the front of the group, and I regret pushing it too hard later on in the run.  I take too much out of myself and end up regretting it when I can't do the next training sessions well.  I made a firm decision today to stick behind the other two runners for at least the first half of the run; I could make sure I wasn't pushing and watch out just in case one of them decided to give me a good shove by that river... a thought which amused me on and off when I was getting tired on the run.  In my head I went to Inspector Wyxie, trying to work out which of her running companions would be the one to just fall into her at the wrong moment, tipping her into the river... I'm a strong swimmer but I was getting tired, would I survive or not?  Yeah, my mind wandered a bit.

Actually the only fall of the whole run was not mine, despite having a little stumble at one point, and it was before we got near any water.  Matt stumbled off the edge of a kerb and sprawled face first into Nottingham Road with oncoming traffic.  Fortunately he wasn't seriously hurt and he managed to get out the road only slightly mauled by myself and Sophie - concerned mauling of course.  Unsurprisingly when we restarted a couple of minutes later, Matt was leading the way fuelled by adrenaline, just where I could keep my eye on him!

It was an uneventful run in good company.  Matt dropped a little early as he'd run cross country yesterday, and Sophie and I returned to Long Eaton.  The run I'd expected a few days ago to really struggle with was just a run, in fact the miles pretty much flew by.  In part I'm sure this was because this was an easier run.  Unlike previous long runs it was flat, the temperature was pretty good, and there was no wind.  It was easy to just get into a rhythm and maintain an even effort level.  But I'm equally sure that in part the easiness was down to us all getting fitter.  Running back into Long Eaton with Sophie I suddenly realised we were pushing the pace, which we knocked off a little and returned to the planned 8 minute miles.  We both looked a lot better than we did at the end of the 15 mile run we did on Christmas Eve where we barely talked for the last 4 miles and we ran about the same pace. 

It only really occurred to me once I'd got home to be incredibly damn pleased with myself for running over 2 miles farther than I've ever run before, at the planned pace, and with more in the tank if I'd needed it.  After my mid-week wobble about being too tired to run and the training getting on top of me, I was back to enjoying running.  The next week is my third week of build up before a cut back week and I have some interesting sessions planned, but I'm hoping to be less tired than I was this week given the steadier long run.  My legs are tight and I should probably think about slotting a massage in at some point soon, but still only general aches and nothing worrying.  This week I ended up running 47 miles and most of those were steady.  The coming week I'm looking at just a slight increase in mileage and with a few more higher intensity miles, but I hope to be starting the week a lot fresher.

I almost deleted my previous blog regarding my mid-week tiredness because I finished the week feeling so positive and was irritated by my own whining, but in the end I decided to keep it.  It's a good reminder to me that while the tiredness and low days feel all consuming at the time, in fact they come and go quite briefly.

Week 6 Part 2: Tired and sore

I'm writing the first part of this on Thursday, although I don't intend to publish it until Sunday when the week's training is over.

Saying I'm tired just doesn't cover it right now.  In fact I'm struggling to find a suitable adjective to describe my current level of weariness.  I'm not going to say I've never been this physically tired before, I have been on a number of occasions, but on none of those occasions did I attempt to go out running or undertake any other type of training.  As well as being tired, I'm aching.  My legs ache.  Nothing specifically concerning, just a general tired, heavy all over ache that's weighing me down.  I also have a blister as a result of wearing actual without laces shoes on Saturday evening when for once in a blue moon I went out somewhere.  The blister is the icing on the cake that can fuck right off.

As predicted after the hard run on Sunday, I did not manage or indeed even attempt to do the 8 mile tempo run on Tuesday.  I decided to split it half and half and do 4 tempo 4 easy.  This seemed sensible given I basically ran the last four miles of Sunday's long run at tempo pace.  I then made the big mistake of forgetting to eat on Tuesday afternoon.  I need regular fuelling, but a lot was going on at home and I missed my snack.  The 4 miles at tempo were really tough which I put down to tiredness from the run on Sunday.  The 4 miles easy were where things really started to go wrong, I felt weirdly disconnected from what was going on around me, and when I made it back to the leisure centre I realised that as I got near the car park I felt very light headed and my vision was swimming.  It was quite an unnerving experience.  This was the point I realised I'd forgotten to eat, and it suddenly all made sense.  I was almost staggering by the time I got across the car park, but a Snickers bar later I was starting to recover.  A friend kindly gave me a lift home and by the time I'd had tea the shakiness had gone.  A lesson learned.

I decided to give myself an impromptu rest day on Wednesday to help my body recover, then of course my obsessiveness kicked in and after a brief argument with myself - which I guess I both won and lost - I ran anyway.  It was only a very steady one, just miles, but it was still hard work.  

Thursday's (today's) session was not meant to be a steady one however.  It's very rare that I don't want to run, but this morning when I went out I really didn't want to set foot out the door, least of all to go and attempt an interval session I was sure would be disappointing.  I hated the warm up and had no bounce in my legs at all.  I almost canned the workout on the basis I wasn't going to get anything from it and I'd benefit more from a rest, but decided that on balance and with no actual injury concerns, just fatigue, I would do it anyway with all my concentration on maintaining good form and acceptance that I may not hit the pace I would normally expect to.

The first rep was rubbish, by the second or third I was OK.  They were only short reps, 90s at the start going down to 30s at the end, and only 15 minutes of effort.  I focussed on technique, continuously reminding myself about all the little things that come together to make running feel good.  Strong legs, driving forwards, swing the leg back and bring the foot up, now try to be lighter, stand tall from the hips, shoulders down, arms swinging evenly, open the chest, breath easily, keep extending, long strides, it's only 90s, 60s, 45s, throw a nursery rhyme in and it'll only be 20s left, and so on.  By the end of the session I was running well.  I couldn't have kept it up for longer reps, but that was the whole point of only having short reps in on this, the third consecutive day of running.  I actually enjoyed the reps a lot more than the long warm up and down I put either side of it to bring my week's mileage up.  Junk miles some people call them.  Normally I don't find them such, I enjoy just being out and running, but today they were just that.  Rotten miles for the sake of miles.

I'm tired, I'm sore, I'm cold and I'm definitely grumbly.  Tomorrow is a rest day, let's hope it works some magic on my legs and me before the weekend.

Week 6 Part 1: Even my cat is smarter than me

This is my cat, Heidi.  Heidi is not stupid.  Heidi never wanted to run a marathon.  Heidi isn't having a mid-life criss and trying to somehow prove her worth to the uncaring world by plodding round 26.2 miles of Manchester and Heidi worked that out without even going to Manchester; I lived there for four years so I really should know better. 

Heidi knows that January is a month for being on the sofa, fast asleep, paws twitching, fangs sticking out, dreaming about chasing rabbits, or birdies, or possibly mice.  Heidi knows that January is not a month for tired feet on the end of equally tired legs to be crammed into big luminous hard trainers to go out in the cold and run around the streets for no reason other than "because the plan told me to".  Heidi doesn't care about plans.   Heidi knows that when she's tired she should lie back, get comfy, and attempt to be adorable enough to get strokes and titbits brought to her as she snoozes the day away.  Heidi is in fact very good at this.

I'm becoming increasingly certain that every time I drag myself out for a run my tiny kitteh gives me a "oh, poor foolish human, what are you doing now?" look, before she sighs, tucks her head back under her paws, and goes back off to sleep.

This week I am tired.  I would like to be as smart as Heidi, but apparently I am not.

Week 5: A change is as good as a rest, perhaps

Week 5 has been and gone, and it's been a bit of a mixed bag.  Overall there are a lot more positives than negatives.  Predominantly, I ran over 40 miles and I'm still without injury concerns or even little niggles this week.  I also got over a large mental barrier in the form of a solo long run.

I mentioned last week that I realised I needed to make some changes as not everything I was doing was working for me.

Firstly, I changed my shoes.  I tend to run in very light weight shoes which don't seem to be sufficient for the mileage I'm now doing.  I realised that I needed to give myself a little bit more cushioning to reduce the strain on my old lady legs and hips.  Especially the hips.  I managed to pick up two pairs of bargain shoes in the sales.  It cannot be said they are beautiful shoes, in fact, they are quite the opposite, but I am rather pleased with them.  The first are Saucony Kinvara 8s which look like silver, yes silver, canal barges on my not so dainty feet but actually feel - and indeed are - very light while still being somewhat more cushioned than the shoes I've been wearing recently.  As long as I don't look at my feet they seem to do me well for boinging along on the quicker runs and I'm actually rather impressed with them.  The second pair, in a lovely combination of pastel blue and neon yellow and making the first pair look quite tasteful, are another pair of Saucony shoes, Freedom ISOs.  These are somewhat heavier than any shoes I've worn before and they feel massive, but also considerably more cushioned.  I'm intending to use these for my longer and slower runs, the runs when I'm at my most tired and therefore heavier on my feet, the runs where I want to reduce the impact on my body.

I also made some changes to my training plans for the next few weeks.  These changes are in part a nod towards the half marathon I'm doing in a month or so, and in part because there were some things missing from my training that I need to work on.  In particular practising running at a constant pace which is near the pace I hope to run the marathon at, and getting in a decent interval session when I'm not too tired to do it well; my attempts to do a hard tempo run on the Tuesday, steady miles on Wednesday, then a good interval session on a Thursday have just not been working because I'm not strong enough to do the interval session on the third day of running.

I'm now working loosely on a two week alternating plan.  One week I do a hard tempo run at the start of the week with just a very short interval session later in the week, just a bit of a nod towards speed to keep the legs moving.  The next week I do a hard long interval session early in the week with a short run later in the week to practice running consistently at the pace I want to run the marathon at.  This run falls on my third consecutive day of running and only 12 hours after my mid-week steady longer run.  I'm practising running marathon pace while tired, essentially.  As I get nearer the marathon and my mileage goes up, there will be more runs at that pace and less really hard stuff.  By that point I may also have worked out what I'm hoping marathon pace will be, because at the moment it's still a very rough estimate.  Clearly I'm basically making this shit up albeit with a lot of reading and advice and hoping I don't fuck it up too much.  At least if I do there's room for improvement if I do another one of these.

The other reason for a tweak this week was the Derbyshire County Cross Country Championships on Saturday; on current form and based on the girls I've been finishing in front of recently I felt I had a reasonable chance of getting a place in the county team if I ran well.  I wanted to be fresh because it was going to be a grueller.  There came the real kicker of the week, in that I had to miss the race to prioritise a family commitment.  I realised part way through the week and to say I was gutted would be an understatement.  I have a love hate relationship with cross country, it doesn't play to my strengths as a runner and I find it really hard, but I've been getting better at dealing with the mud and the hills, getting stronger, and I really wanted to do this one.  I had to pull out.  Instead of racing with the girls from the club I ended up doing a thoroughly half hearted parkrun and being rather down about the whole thing.  Saturday was definitely the low point of the week and I was feeling decidedly sorry for myself about the whole thing.

Overall though, from the point of view of the marathon, the week's training has been basically fine.  The interval session was acceptable given the wind, I've done better but I'll take it, the mid-week long run was a steady plod, and the supposed marathon pace practice was way, way too fast and all over the place, but thanks to a friend I have an idea on how to improve on that by basing it purely on heart rate next time, and setting my watch to beep at me when I go out the zone I want to be in.  I get easily distracted and then speed up or slow down depending on where my mind has wandered to and what I'm thinking of.  I like to let my mind wander when I run, but sometimes it doesn't lend itself well to consistent training.

I then wanted to give myself a tougher long run this week and decided to do my 16 miles at a slightly quicker pace than the long runs I've done so far.  This is really more with an upcoming half marathon in mind than the marathon, but also a little bit about the marathon.  I wanted to push myself a little over a longer run to reassure myself I wouldn't just cave.  Due to having to change my weekend plans a couple of times I ended up doing the run alone.  It's the first solo long run I've done while training for this marathon, and I was a moderately intimated by it.  I don't normally mind running alone, all my half marathon training long runs have been alone, but they've maxed out at 15 miles and been off the back of a lot less miles during the rest of the week.  The last time I attempted close to this distance solo was when training for a marathon I never ran due to injury.  It was probably the worst run of my life.  It was horribly hot, I hated every rotten step of it, I knew I shouldn't have been running on the injury I was running on but was in denial, it hurt, and I ran it a lot slower than I'd planned to.

I picked myself a moderately challenging route for this one with several hundred feet of elevation.  It involved 4 miles with the wind behind me on the flat, 8 miles of undulation into the wind, then another 4 flat miles which were much more sheltered and with the wind behind me again.  I forced myself to carry water and gels.  I generally hate carrying any unnecessary weight on runs, and almost everything beyond bra, tights, shoes and a t-shirt falls into the annoying category.  I'm easily annoyed.  When I set off out wearing considerably more layers than normal due to freezing temperatures and a biting northerly wind, a belt to carry two water bottles with my gels, and a luminous oil tanker on each foot, I felt like an intrepid explorer going on an Arctic expedition rather than a middle aged woman going for a run.  I wasn't sure it was an entirely good feeling.

I realised less than a mile in that it was a day where running just felt good.  My legs felt fresh, probably as a result of the fairly lack lustre parkrun the day before, I was bouncy, and although I was running easily I was way faster than my target pace of 7:40s.  I slowed a little, but basically decided to go with it while the wind was behind me and I didn't feel like I was taking too much out of myself.  The first four miles averaged about 7:25s, at which point I turned into the wind and hit the first hill.  This was the low point of the run, I suddenly wished I had company, it wasn't going to be an easy run and it was going to be long.  I then did what I always do when I feel a little bit worried about dealing with hills on a run, I sped up.  I did almost immediately have a word with myself (I think the word was "twat") and slow down again, reduced my effort, and let the pace bleed off as the run got hillier, icier, and windier.  Normally I try and keep my mile splits even, but following some good advice from a friend earlier this week, I just accepted that the harder miles I would put in a bit more effort, but not destroy myself to maintain the pace.  I had to stop and walk over a very icy bridge which broke my rhythm up a bit, as did a couple of road crossings, but basically I just got on with it and enjoyed running.  I didn't stop when I drank, didn't stop to use gels, just ran.

Having made that decision to ease off in the middle section I then got on and enjoyed my run, concentrated on form when I got tired, and when I did get to the easier section at the end I had a lot left in my legs and picked the pace up again.  The last four miles were the quickest of the lot, finishing on mile 16 with a 7:10.  I am tired and today, the next day, I do ache.  But, I didn't destroy myself and I believe could have managed at least 2 or 3 more miles at the average pace of 7:30s.  I feel like it's worth the fatigue for the mental boost the run as given me even if it does mean, as I suspect it will, that I'll need to shorten my tempo run from the planned 8 miles down to 5 or 6.  I'm less scared by the distance and the pace than I was, the next couple of long runs can be slower and I'll be happy with that.

Week six running starts tomorrow, this weekend it'll be 18 miles which will be another longest run ever moment, but I plan to take them a little steadier and do them on the flat.