I still have the cold, just the end of it, but the phlegm in the back
of my throat is vile and I'm just knackered. My legs still ache like
I'm training hard but I'm not. The calf is being "dodgy" again. My mood is swinging wildly from probably misplaced optimism to thoroughly miserable.
Tuesday night I went to do the club time trial. Well, I didn't really go to do the time trial, I went to have a run and it happened to be the time trial. I sensibly put myself well back and started steadily. My calf was tight, in fact both of them were, but especially the right one. I had thought a gentle run may loosen them up and allow me to get a few miles in at marathon pace, and that's just what I set out to do. Despite starting very gently I was breathing remarkably hard when talking; I seem to be really struggling to shift the tail end of this cold. By a mile in the calf hadn't loosened at all and when there was still no improvement a half mile later I turned back cutting my run short.
Things then started to feel a lot better so I ended up doing the whole five miles, with three miles at a rough approximation of marathon pace - it was a bit quick but largely wind assisted so from an effort point of view not too far off - and all of a sudden I felt good. Not just good, but great. Probably not quite awesome, but definitely great. I was just running. Running is something I enjoy hugely. There's a good effort level that I get a real kick from, not flat out, not trotting, definitely not shuffling or plodding, just running. Hard enough that I can feel my breathing, my legs stretching out, that I'm putting some effort in and the body is responding. The spring weather helps with this. I love spring, I love autumn. Cool, crisp, clear days. All of a sudden, lapping the park on my own like a right Billy No Mates, I was incredibly happy and comfortable running.
As soon as I dropped my pace off again my calf went stiff again and afterwards it was sore. Not the Achilles, just the calf, which is something at least. I'm trying to work this out. My calf hurts when I run slowly. I haven't tried running properly fast for a couple of weeks, but at a sort of mid (marathon type) pace, it becomes stiff and is often sore afterwards. I've been really focussing on how I'm running when I drop the speed off to make sure I'm not being sloppy and I don't think I am exactly but I do have a theory. When I run harder, out of necessity I kick off harder, push my back leg out more, and my hamstrings and glutes are doing a lot of the work. When I run slower I tend to just trot on my forefeet with a much smaller stride, as one does, and this seems to be putting a lot of stress on my calves. I'm boinging too much for the pace I'm running at, lots of that is going into up and down (which is confirmed by my HRM data) and therefore I'm not only wasting energy, I'm stressing my calves.
When I ran again today (Thursday) I tried to be concious of running "flatter" when I'm running slower, and not wasting energy and precious calf muscle on bobbing up and down needlessly. It wasn't at all successful according to garmin. I bobbed less at the three miles I did at a pace which was far too quick given they were meant to be marathon pace practice than I did on the four easy miles I stacked either side of that. I was also sick running 8 minute miles warming down for no other reason than Catarrh. I just cannot shake it. I knew it was coming I could feel the bile in the back of my throat for a couple of miles before I couldn't fight the nausea any more. I persevered, but I felt pretty rough.
Then, to round it all off, this evening while taking dishes into the kitchen I knocked the kitchen door open and walked through it. Only I didn't. The door got caught on the corner of the rug and instead of opening it wedged and I walked right into it. I now have a lovely bruise developing on my knee.
Really, I am a wreck. A stressed, tired, slightly ill, injury fighting, wreck.
Ten days to go and I'm already such a ridiculous combination of terror, excitement, hope, and disappointment.
Things then started to feel a lot better so I ended up doing the whole five miles, with three miles at a rough approximation of marathon pace - it was a bit quick but largely wind assisted so from an effort point of view not too far off - and all of a sudden I felt good. Not just good, but great. Probably not quite awesome, but definitely great. I was just running. Running is something I enjoy hugely. There's a good effort level that I get a real kick from, not flat out, not trotting, definitely not shuffling or plodding, just running. Hard enough that I can feel my breathing, my legs stretching out, that I'm putting some effort in and the body is responding. The spring weather helps with this. I love spring, I love autumn. Cool, crisp, clear days. All of a sudden, lapping the park on my own like a right Billy No Mates, I was incredibly happy and comfortable running.
As soon as I dropped my pace off again my calf went stiff again and afterwards it was sore. Not the Achilles, just the calf, which is something at least. I'm trying to work this out. My calf hurts when I run slowly. I haven't tried running properly fast for a couple of weeks, but at a sort of mid (marathon type) pace, it becomes stiff and is often sore afterwards. I've been really focussing on how I'm running when I drop the speed off to make sure I'm not being sloppy and I don't think I am exactly but I do have a theory. When I run harder, out of necessity I kick off harder, push my back leg out more, and my hamstrings and glutes are doing a lot of the work. When I run slower I tend to just trot on my forefeet with a much smaller stride, as one does, and this seems to be putting a lot of stress on my calves. I'm boinging too much for the pace I'm running at, lots of that is going into up and down (which is confirmed by my HRM data) and therefore I'm not only wasting energy, I'm stressing my calves.
When I ran again today (Thursday) I tried to be concious of running "flatter" when I'm running slower, and not wasting energy and precious calf muscle on bobbing up and down needlessly. It wasn't at all successful according to garmin. I bobbed less at the three miles I did at a pace which was far too quick given they were meant to be marathon pace practice than I did on the four easy miles I stacked either side of that. I was also sick running 8 minute miles warming down for no other reason than Catarrh. I just cannot shake it. I knew it was coming I could feel the bile in the back of my throat for a couple of miles before I couldn't fight the nausea any more. I persevered, but I felt pretty rough.
Then, to round it all off, this evening while taking dishes into the kitchen I knocked the kitchen door open and walked through it. Only I didn't. The door got caught on the corner of the rug and instead of opening it wedged and I walked right into it. I now have a lovely bruise developing on my knee.
Really, I am a wreck. A stressed, tired, slightly ill, injury fighting, wreck.
Ten days to go and I'm already such a ridiculous combination of terror, excitement, hope, and disappointment.
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