Happy spring, folks. You will note that behind the smiley person who has just finished training, there is a lot of snow. In fact so much snow the fucking Christmas jumper is back out.
This weekend was in theory the last weekend of build up. Given the running I've missed due to injury over the last six weeks I've been toying with the idea of a shorter taper, slotting in another longer run next week, trying to get a bit more good training in before tapering. This weekend I ditched that idea. It was the stupid idea of an obsessive person. It was the sort of idea that resulted in the injury that's plagued the last few weeks of training.
Even when I've not been able to run I haven't cut my training back at all, in fact if anything I've done more training to make up for the fact it wasn't running. I'm like that. The training I've done may not ultimately be as effective in terms of running the sort of time I'd have liked to run as if I'd done all the workouts I wanted to, but I've still done it and my level of fatigue is absolutely fucking huge.
I woke up yesterday morning full of cold, and utterly knackered. To be fair I initially woke up in the night with a horrid sore throat, the initial cold threat, and feeling dire. I spent quite a while awake feeling dire, then I woke up in the morning full of cold. My legs were knackered from all the training I've done over the last two weeks. Some running, cross training, cycling, pool running for crying out loud, strength training, intervals, a tempo run that I waded, and probably more stuff I've forgotten about. In my head an argument started between the legs and the head over who was feeling worse. It was like listening to the kids' incessant bickering, but I was doing it to myself.
Even when I've not been able to run I haven't cut my training back at all, in fact if anything I've done more training to make up for the fact it wasn't running. I'm like that. The training I've done may not ultimately be as effective in terms of running the sort of time I'd have liked to run as if I'd done all the workouts I wanted to, but I've still done it and my level of fatigue is absolutely fucking huge.
I woke up yesterday morning full of cold, and utterly knackered. To be fair I initially woke up in the night with a horrid sore throat, the initial cold threat, and feeling dire. I spent quite a while awake feeling dire, then I woke up in the morning full of cold. My legs were knackered from all the training I've done over the last two weeks. Some running, cross training, cycling, pool running for crying out loud, strength training, intervals, a tempo run that I waded, and probably more stuff I've forgotten about. In my head an argument started between the legs and the head over who was feeling worse. It was like listening to the kids' incessant bickering, but I was doing it to myself.
Then came the next consideration for my planned morning run, yep, the weather. Now, when I picked the background for this blog it was on a bit of a whim after an initial and rather novel snowy long run back in December. On that occasion it was all rather nice, just 10 miles through pretty, crunchy snow. I did not realise at the time that I was basically the harbinger of weather doom for the winter. It has been a cracker in terms of weather. At first I wondered if this was just perspective, given I've been out in it a lot more, but no it really has been a particularly cold, wet, windy and snowy winter... and apparently also spring. It's mid-March and the view out my kitchen window should not look like the above photo.
Fortunately, by the time I went out yesterday morning the snow was just starting to come down and hadn't settled. It was, however, rather windy. I took the view that I'd do a route with a lot of cut backs, run extremely steadily, and just see how far my calf managed. Once I got running it all got a lot better, however. Actually trotting along at 8:20s ish was relatively problem free even given the tired legs, pounding headache and sore throat. I did not feel shiny, however I did feel up to running. In the end it was 12 miles before the right calf got sore. It wasn't the same place I've been having pain previously, it was almost certainly just an achy tired calf, but I didn't want to risk any Achilles problems following on. I walked a mile or so and stretched it, during which time I got extremely cold and miserable. This was no longer fun. I then realised I'd just missed a bus home, but before I actually burst into tears I also realised that the calf was feeling better for the stretch, so I carried on running at an even slower speed. I wasn't dressed for the slower speed, and I was freezing. My head, throat and legs started their internal argument about who was feeling the most miserable but as they aren't actually the kids I told them all to shut the fuck up and get on with it.
In the end I did 16 miles at around 8:35 average. Much more than I'd thought I would, but I was bizarrely restless. This wasn't the big weekend run I've got used to! I decided to make up the cardio today by cross training, and this afternoon I went out, now streaming with cold, and spent 90 minutes on the cross trainer pushing the heart rate up to long run territory. The good thing about this was the cross trainer really stretched out the calf and I realised I felt up to running. I wasn't going to risk running out in the snow and slush, plus I was wearing shorts and a vest in the gym, so I hauled myself onto the treadmill and stuck it on a 1% incline with the pace at 7:00 minute miles. I put on the emergency stop clip and decided to see what was left in my legs. 3.6 miles it turned out, at which point I felt in serious danger of coming off the back of it, and stopped. Honestly it was more than I thought and I was reassured it didn't send my heartrate through the fucking roof in the process.
I'm done, absolutely done. This week the cut back starts. I'm looking forward to getting some life back in my legs. I'm fine if I end up doing most of my running as pool running this week and then get actual running in the next two, I'm OK to give the dodgy calf the time it needs to fully recover from the weekend's madness. The week's plan is four days of training, two or three of those running. I'm hoping to get in a 10-12 miler next weekend with fresher legs. I'll also do the last strength session early this week. Finally, I'm hoping to shift this bloody cold, which I guess is better come now than in 2 weeks.
Fortunately, by the time I went out yesterday morning the snow was just starting to come down and hadn't settled. It was, however, rather windy. I took the view that I'd do a route with a lot of cut backs, run extremely steadily, and just see how far my calf managed. Once I got running it all got a lot better, however. Actually trotting along at 8:20s ish was relatively problem free even given the tired legs, pounding headache and sore throat. I did not feel shiny, however I did feel up to running. In the end it was 12 miles before the right calf got sore. It wasn't the same place I've been having pain previously, it was almost certainly just an achy tired calf, but I didn't want to risk any Achilles problems following on. I walked a mile or so and stretched it, during which time I got extremely cold and miserable. This was no longer fun. I then realised I'd just missed a bus home, but before I actually burst into tears I also realised that the calf was feeling better for the stretch, so I carried on running at an even slower speed. I wasn't dressed for the slower speed, and I was freezing. My head, throat and legs started their internal argument about who was feeling the most miserable but as they aren't actually the kids I told them all to shut the fuck up and get on with it.
In the end I did 16 miles at around 8:35 average. Much more than I'd thought I would, but I was bizarrely restless. This wasn't the big weekend run I've got used to! I decided to make up the cardio today by cross training, and this afternoon I went out, now streaming with cold, and spent 90 minutes on the cross trainer pushing the heart rate up to long run territory. The good thing about this was the cross trainer really stretched out the calf and I realised I felt up to running. I wasn't going to risk running out in the snow and slush, plus I was wearing shorts and a vest in the gym, so I hauled myself onto the treadmill and stuck it on a 1% incline with the pace at 7:00 minute miles. I put on the emergency stop clip and decided to see what was left in my legs. 3.6 miles it turned out, at which point I felt in serious danger of coming off the back of it, and stopped. Honestly it was more than I thought and I was reassured it didn't send my heartrate through the fucking roof in the process.
I'm done, absolutely done. This week the cut back starts. I'm looking forward to getting some life back in my legs. I'm fine if I end up doing most of my running as pool running this week and then get actual running in the next two, I'm OK to give the dodgy calf the time it needs to fully recover from the weekend's madness. The week's plan is four days of training, two or three of those running. I'm hoping to get in a 10-12 miler next weekend with fresher legs. I'll also do the last strength session early this week. Finally, I'm hoping to shift this bloody cold, which I guess is better come now than in 2 weeks.
Tonight I'm going to get a little bit tiddly, and then comes three weeks of easing off, lots of healthy food, and hopefully feeling my legs start working again.
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