After my abysmal failure to complete the amusingly titled Run With No Witty Name a couple of weeks back, there's been the small matter of October's Marathon A Month Madness hanging over me. I'm currently up to a Marathon (or Ultra) every month since Oct 2019. But having not got any decent miles in since the Andover Trail Marathon (See here for my exciting race report), due to the issues with my Right Foot that I've been banging on about ever since, it was starting to look like that little run might be coming to a crashing end, right about now.
Things have been starting to feel a bit better on the foot front though and whilst I'm nowhere back to full fitness, I have managed a couple of short evening runs this week and I did manage a fairly successful 13 miles last Sunday with no serious after effects. As such, as the week went on I started to think that maybe all's not doomed after all. If I was going to squeeze in Octobers Marathon effort it was going to have to be this weekend though, as I'm signed up for a bit of Audax fun next weekend, and it was going to have to be a self curated effort. Looking around the local area for races this weekend showed a bit of a blank. Or more precisely, there was a few races going on, but nothing that appealed enough for me to consider forking out the entry fee just on the off chance that I'd be fit enough to run! Typically, Friday my foot felt the worst it's been for a couple of weeks, probably not helped by cycling home from work with my bike stuck in a massive gear after snapping a gear cable on the way home, which took some real leg effort getting up the hills I can tell you. Never one to shy away from a challenge though, I packed up the van with my running kit Friday evening, telling "The Emma" I'd either be home early the next morning, or late afternoon, depending on how my foot felt in the morning, and set off for a night out ready for an early start in the morning. Saturday dawned dry and cool, possibly perfect running weather and having had a good nights sleep my foot felt pretty good, or as good as it's likely to get when your 49 years old and spend half your time trying to wear yourself out! In for a penny, in for a pound then (or whatever the saying is) lets see what we've got!
The Oxdrove Way's one that I've done a few times now, but it's a nice little route, being nearly all off road, with plenty of varied terrain, to keep you occupied, without being stupidly hilly or technical. And this time of year's probably the best time to run it, before it get's too muddy and wet underfoot. It's certainly ideal for todays outing too, with a couple of shortcuts available to get back to the van if need be, just in case things don't go quite to plan. Let's not plan to fail though!
On the road before 08:00 there was still plenty of wildlife around to occupy me for the first few miles, with 3 or 4 small groups of Deer watching me pass from the safety of the fields to the side of the track, a couple of Kites circling overhead and the Blackbirds shouting their warnings that I was on my way, to their mates hidden in the hedgerows. My foot was feeling pretty good too, as were my legs, which having now got a little bit of running back in them didn't feel any where near as stiff and unwilling as they did a couple of week's back when I'd been fully off the running. It's surprising the difference just getting those few miles in has made, but I'd guess that some of it's mental too and there's no doubt that now I know that things are on the mend I'm feeling a lot more confidant than I was a couple of weeks ago. In fact, by the time I even thought about looking at my watch to see how I was getting on, I was at the 10 mile mark. That's got to be a good sign, 10 miles and not even thought about it, result!
Onwards and upwards then, and with the miles fairly flying by things were certainly looking better than they did on my last outing. Keeping it simple and breaking it down in to small chunks is the key to any endurance event. A chocolate bar at 13 miles, a sandwich at 18 miles, I know that there's a big old hill at 21 miles, I'll give myself a treat and walk some of that. Little chunks and attainable targets help make it achievable and seemed to be working today.
An overgrown stretch of path at 20 odd miles slowed me down a bit and caused a few shoe lace issues. wading through the stingers and low growing brambles not only leaves your legs covered in nettle rash, but the brambles seem to be really good at grabbing your shoe laces too, necessitating regular annoying stops to keep retying them. I suppose the answers double knots, but then you can't get the buggers undone at the end either! Real first world problems eh, there's millions of people in the world who would be glad of a pair of shoes and I'm moaning that my laces won't stay done up!
With 24 miles done and heading back towards the van I started taking notice of the miles still to cover. This route measures as 27 miles on the mapping software but the mileage on my GPS didn't seem to reflect that. In fact I was starting to wonder if I was going to cover enough miles!
It didn't take long for the mileage conundrum to confirm itself, as the van hove back into view with only 25 miles shown on the GPS and you know what that means? Well, it means one of 2 things, either I stop short and assume that the GPs is wrong and the route calculations right, or I'm going to have to run straight past the van to make up the miles. If the GPS doesn't show it, then it didn't happen as far as I'm concerned, so straight past the van it was. And I'll tell you something, that's about the most demoralising thing I know. So close, yet still so far! An extra mile's not going to kill me, no matter how hard it feels, and todays no exception. At least now I can sleep safe in the knowledge that I've covered the required mileage and completed another Marathon A Month challenge.
It's not fast, it's nothing special and it's certainly not pretty. But, it is a step back towards full fitness and it is another 26 mile run in the book! My foot's not feeling too bad either, obviously tomorrow will be a better indication of how things are, once it's had a chance to stiffen up, but as it stands at the minute, hopefully things are looking up!
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Here's a game I've not played in a while, the old book a cheap hotel room miles away from home and spend the weekend cycling there and back. I must confess that it's more of a winter game than a summer one, I mean, there's no point forking out for hotel rooms, no matter how cheap they are, when you've got a hammock is there? But sometimes, as the nights get colder and it get's dark earlier, the hotel lark seems more appealing.
A quick Google, whilst I was sat eating my breakfast earlier in the week, showed up a cheap room in Melksham for Friday night. That's, Melksham near Devizes and Chippenham. No, I'd never heard of it either, but it's obviously big enough to have a Travelodge and having now been there, it seems to be sat on a bit of a major road junction, which probably explains the Travelodge. Either way and more importantly, it also happens to be approximately 75 miles away from home and work. Add in the trip into work on the Friday and a bit of circuitous route planning for the way back and I've got myself a pair of 85 mile days. Nice! And as an added bonus "The Emma" said she'd come down for the evening and a few beers, and then drop in on friends on the way home too. What's not to like about that. 170 miles of bike fun and a few beers, sweet!
A bit of route planning during the week, followed by digging out my big saddlebag and packing up a few bit's ready for a quick getaway from work on the Friday, made it seem like a bit of an adventure, and gave me something to look forward too during the week. That, coupled with riding in to work on Friday morning, with saddlebag packed and extra water bottles on the bike, gave the day a special feel and I spent the morning watching the clock hands tick slowly round, waiting for the off.
By lunchtime I was good to go, and with the weather chilly but dry, it looked like I should have a good afternoon out. Tracking back towards home from work on the normal route, it wasn't long before I was diverting off to skirt around the outside of Basingstoke and setting course for Newbury, my first major milestone on the afternoons journey.
Coming across a "Road Closed" sign and a large queue of traffic shortly before Newbury, I thought that I was in for a few extra miles, but chancing my arm I threaded my way through the signs and when I actually came across the guys working, stopped and asked them if I could squeeze though on my bike. "No problem" came the reply and thanking them profusely for saving me a few miles I stopped and chatted to them for a few minutes before carrying on along the deserted road.
I often find that it pays to be nice to people, it takes nothing to ask and be polite, and likewise it's surprising the things that people will tell you if you ask and show some interest in what they are doing. People often ask me at work how I seem to know so much about what's going on, well it's because I talk to people, cleaners, contractors, the guy that checks the passes as I cycle in of a morning, they've all got something interesting to say if you take the time to talk to them. And you never know, not only might your learn something but you might save yourself a few miles on your travels too! A pair of Kestrels hunting in the fields as I made my way from Newbury towards Hungerford seemed like a sign to stop for a while and have a late lunch, and I spent an enjoyable few minutes eating my sandwiches whilst watching these magnificent birds hovering in the sky whilst searching for their own meals. Nature fest or not, sitting still won't get me to my destination and it wasn't long before I was following the road alongside the Kennet and Avon Canal on my way towards Pewsey and ultimately Devizes and beyond. There's normally fast, easy, flat miles to be had along the routes followed by canals and railways and today was no exception, the miles flying by as I made my way steadily West. Another quick stop by the canal after Pewsey, where I sat for a few minutes, watching a heavy freight train make it's way slowly up the adjacent track, whilst a canal boat made it's way sedately towards me, set me off thinking about the changes to life, that both the canals and then the railways must have made. Pondering whilst peddling, makes the time slip away and before I knew it I was passing through Devizes and a few minutes later arriving at my destination for the night.
75 miles (85 with the ride into work) in just over 5 1/2 hours (including stops) isn't bad going and gave me plenty of time for a shower and brew before "The Emma" pitched up and we headed out for a very sociable meal and a few beers. Not a bad way to spend your Friday afternoon and evening and even if nothing else, it made a nice change to be away from home.
After some heavy rain overnight, we were greeted by a beautiful morning when I finally dragged myself out of bed, at a late for me 07:30. I can't spend the morning laying around though, there's miles to be done, and after a couple of brews and a quick bit of breakfast I bade "The Emma" goodbye for the day and headed out into the morning sun. A pleasant few miles along the towpath of the Kennet and Avon Canal, took me well on the way towards Trowbridge, whilst nicely avoiding some busy roads, and from there I headed for Warminster and on towards Salisbury.
With the sun making an appearance it wasn't long before I'd shed my legwarmers and jacket and was picking my way though the autumn colours in just a light top and shorts. Unseasonably warm without a doubt, and I'm surprised at how green and verdant the trees still look, considering the time of year. I guess that we will be in for a big shock at some point in the next few weeks when the first frosts hit, but for today, cruising through the countryside in the warm sun was a rare treat and one not to be sniffed at.
Slogging through the lunchtime traffic in Salisbury wasn't much fun though, and made me glad to be on two wheels and not sat caged, going no where, in a four wheel box. Where are all these people going, surely they must have better things to be doing on a Saturday that heading into town for yet more shopping? I know I have! From Salisbury, it's onto familiar roads, cutting back towards Stockbridge and Whitchurch before the long slow drag back up towards Basingstoke, home and ultimately the end of another mini adventure.
Another 85 miles to go in the book then, for a total of 170 across the 2 days (including my Friday morning commute into work) and even allowing for my late start on Saturday morning I was home for 15:30, leaving plenty of time to sort tea out and head back out in the van for the night, ready for a spot of early morning running on Sunday.
Not a bad start to the weekend then and one that I'm planning on repeating in the coming months. Getting straight on the road on a Friday is to my mind a great way to extend the weekend a bit, and if you can tie it in with a few good miles, a visit to somewhere new and a few beers, well, it doesn't get much better than that does it!
After Friday and Saturday's efforts there's not much to report from Sunday. A night in the van set me up nicely for a bit of early morning running and I managed a steady 13 miles though the early morning mist. On a positive note my foots feeling a lot better and although it's still not right I'm hopeful that I might be able to get some decent miles in next weekend and keep the "Marathon a Month" challenge alive, but we'll have to see how it feels during the week for that one.
A couple of hours on the Allotment saw the first of the Autumn digging done and a bit of tidying up completed. Before a trip down to the tip to get rid of all the tree pruning's from last weekends tidy up of the front garden. And that was about it, another weekend gone in the blink of an eye, and another step closer to Christmas!
While I was pottering around Sunday afternoon, "The Emma" made a start on dehydrating some of the bumper apple crop too. There's nothing better or more juicy than a freshly picked apple, but a few slices of dried apple comes a close second. The first batch is dehydrating as I type and if I remember (and haven't scoffed them all) I'll stick some pictures up next week.
On a totally unrelated note. I've shared plenty of pictures from my commute before, but I think these few are still worth sharing!
Here's a weird one for you. It's Friday night and I'm sat in the van having a brew. I'm in the van because I'm running in the morning. Nothing special, or out of the ordinary, just a 50K that I've had on my radar for a while. But, you know what, I'm as nervous about this one as I was the first race I ever entered. What's that all about, then? I've run a marathon or ultra, every month for nearly 2 years now, so this isn't anything unusual. In fact, normally, I'd be thinking about having a beer and what I was going to do on Sunday, not worrying about a little 50K. So, why is this one playing on my mind then? Well, it's all about self doubt, fear and trepidation. As I mentioned the other week, I've not run for a few weeks as my right foots been playing up. I suspect it's a bit of the old tendentious in the tendons that run under the arch, probably caused by a bit of over use where I've put in some big miles over the summer. Any one with any sense will tell you that there's only one fix for any of these things and that's rest, and I suspect that a Physio will probably tell you six weeks minimum recovery time and then a gradual build up from there. So that's exactly what I've been doing, and well, you know, 4 weeks is close to 6 and it is feeling better, so surely a cheeky 50K can't hurt, can it? And when I say rest, well, obviously I've still been doing the cycle commute to work, been out on my bike at the weekends, and I've swapped the running days for extra weights and stretching sessions, but I've not been running. So, that's OK isn't it? The not running seems to have paid off though, as this week things are feeling a lot better. The soreness has gone and I feel that it should be up to a bit of running, and there in lies the problem. Not only am I now paranoid that I'm going to make it worse again and be back to square one. But, what if I've forgotten how to run? What if it hurts straight away and what if it's OK for the first few miles and then goes bang when I'm out in the middle of nowhere? It's not supposed to be like this. Surely, I can't have forgotten how to run in 4 weeks? Whilst I might have lost a bit of pace and running form in that time, I've certainly not lost much general fitness. For pity's sake, my daily commute to work is more training than the “average Joe” does in a week, so what am I worried about? I'm going to have a good nights sleep, a slow easy start in the morning and if I don't feel like running I don't have too. But there in lies the other issue, I miss it like crazy and want to run. There's a million things that could be worse, and not being able to run for a few weeks is hardly a major disaster. But, in my mind, going from fit, fast and fearless, to side-lined, injured, and paranoid that your never going to run again, is right up there. Arrrggghhh, maybe I will have that beer. You never know, it might be raining tomorrow and it'll be cancelled, then all my worries will have been in vein. Yeah, right, like that's going to happen! Well, There's some good news and some bad news on the running front. Firstly, despite my wishes, Saturday morning didn't start with biblical floods, plagues of frogs or anything else that was likely to lead to the cancellation of the Run With No Witty Name. Instead it dawned still, misty and fine, with everything pointing to the early morning mist burning off at some point and leaving a nice day. Oh well, I guess we're going to find out how good (or not) this foot of mine actually is then! A short walk down to the start, at my allocated start time, gave me the opportunity to start stretching legs that hadn't done anything for a number of weeks, and with everything feeling Ok, I was soon going through the familiar routine of pinning on my number whilst trying to avoid safety pinning it to parts of my body and stretching off ready to go. A Covid friendly start, (or should that be unfriendly?) saw us being set off at 30 minute intervals, in groups of 30 or so, and as 10 O'clock rolled along, so my group moved forward to the start line A quick pre race brief, and on the stroke of 10 we were off, straight up hill, the grass still wet underfoot from the early morning dew and mist, millions of spiders web's highlighted by the damp moist air giving the ground an almost frozen like patina and the sheep in the fields alongside the route looking on quizzically as we panted our way up. Taking it slow from the start my foot didn't feel too bad, but my leg muscles, unused for all that time, didn't seem to appreciate the awakening, feeling heavy, stiff and unwilling, from the off. “Well, lets just see how we go, I can always turn round”! As my watch indicated the first mile, the time didn't seem too bad, in fact it was about what I'd have predicted, and to be honest my legs were starting to free up a bit, so I might as well keep going now I've got this far. By the time miles 3 and 4 came along, I was starting to feel a bit better, my legs had started to remember what running actually was, and although my foot still didn't feel right, there was no pain, (which could only be a good thing), and I was actually starting to enjoy myself. The route was great, following little paths and tracks, cutting along the edges of freshly harvested and ploughed fields, whilst constantly undulating through the steep countryside that this part of the country seems to be renowned for. By mile 7 the sun had come out, and I'd started catching up with the back markers of the group that set off at 09:30, maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all, maybe all my fears and worries had been pointless? You know what they say about counting your chickens though, as after after having turned right, onto what seemed like a long road section with no route marking, I suddenly found myself back at a point I'd been at before! That's not right. Stop! No, I've definitely been here before. Bugger! A quick check of the route map showed that I'd missed a turn some way back, but looking at the map there was a road option that would spit me out at the first aid station and bring me back on track. By the time I got there, my little detour had added over a mile to the days planned efforts, not ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but at least I was now going the right way again! Oh well, not much I can do about that except push on and learn from my mistakes. A few more uneventful miles in the morning sunshine took me through the half marathon mark, before another missed turn saw me stood staring at the map again. Frustrating? Yes. The end of the world? No, and a quick bit of back tracking soon saw me back on route again. Something wasn't right though, although my foot wasn't painful it wasn't right, and my legs just didn't seem to want to play. At mile 16 I found myself off route again, having followed what appeared to be the marked path down to a road junction, only to find that I was now a fair way off track! Working out how to get back on route I pushed on, but arriving at the next junction I just couldn't figure out which way I was supposed to be going. The way I thought it was didn't look right, but neither did the other way?
Getting the map out again, I soon realised that something wasn't right, from the look of the route on the map it only looked like I was about a ¼ of the way round, yet my watch said I'd already done over 16 miles! Looking a bit closer it also showed that I was now at the closest point to the start that I was going to be at all day, and once I'd seen that snippet of information I knew my day was done. I wasn't enjoying myself, my head and heart just weren't in it, and whilst my foot wasn't painful at the moment, it wasn't right either. That's it then, day done and a slow walk back to the start to let the Race Director know that I'd given up! Giving up's not in my nature. If nothing else, I'm a stubborn, persistent old fool, and that's the first race that I've ever started and not finished. But somehow I know deep down that I made the right decision today, even if it wasn't an easy one to make. I wasn't enjoying myself, and my head and body just weren't in it. More importantly though I would hope that I haven't done any more damage to my foot. In fact, hopefully the opposite will be true and if I give it another couple of days rest, I'll be able to resume a more gradual return to distance, building it back up a bit more gradually and sensibly. At the end of the day, it's better to stop and live to fight another day, than push on and spend the next 6 months out injured (or words to that effect) and anyway, this will give me a reason to come back and have another go next year. Onwards and upwards, as they say! I'm happy to admit that I'm struggling for motivation at the moment. I often find this time of year a bit of a struggle. I guess it's to do with the darker evenings, the colder, greyer days and the fact that there's nothing to look forward too. In the Spring, and even during the depths of Winter, there's the longer, warmer days to look forward too, at the moment though it's all going the wrong way! I guess that it's not being helped this year by the fact that my foots still sore so I'm trying my hardest not to run on it and actually give it a chance to get better. It's easier to say than do though. I've been averaging nearly 50 miles a week for the last 2 years, so to suddenly be doing zero is driving me nuts. Yes, I'm still out on the bike and I've been filling in the missing run sessions with extra bodyweight and stretching sessions, but it's not the same as feeling the ground under your feet. This weekend was, amongst other things, the Basingstoke Half Marathon and whilst I'd entered, sense has prevailed and I've not run. It's a shame, because having missed last year due to Covid, I'd been looking forward to it, but I know that deep down, the only way my foots ever going to get better is by keeping off it, so that's what I'll have to do. They'll always be next year! In an effort to keep myself motivated and stop myself feeling sorry for myself I have been busy pottering around though and whilst there's not much to show for my efforts it's all steps in the right direction I suppose. I pulled a lot of the summer bedding plants out of the garden the other day and made a start on planting out the spring flowers. I'm loath to go nuts and pull it all out at the moment though as there's still a lot of flowers in bloom due to the unseasonably warm weather. Normally by this time of year it would all be over, but like the rest of us, the petunias and geraniums are still hanging valiantly in there and until yesterdays rain the Dahlias were still looking pretty good. I've spent a good few hours tying to sort out some of my treasure in the garage too. Having spent more than a few hours looking for a bike light charger during the week, the clutter finally got the better of me and I went on a bit of a rampage. To be honest I don't know why it's taken me so long, as with a bit of jiggling stuff around and an couple of hours spent knocking up a bit of storage from some saved wood, I've doubled the working and storage space. If only I'd have done that a few months back, it would have made the van engine change a lot easier, instead of having to clamber over bits every time I needed something, it could have all been to hand. Despite all the pottering I did manage to drag my backside out on my bike early on Saturday morning and almost managed to avoid the rain. Note, the almost there, because I was pretty damp by the time I got home.
Damp or not, when the morning starts like this you can't not go out can you? |
Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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