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.