Out Front

Yesterday, in what was probably the first time in over two years, I participated in a group track workout. What was more surprising was that I showed up early. In the past I might have wondered where everyone was, stretched or even started an early warm-up. Okay, it’s doubtful I would’ve warmed up early, but you get the picture. Yesterday was different. Without a second thought, I lay down beside the track, propped up my head with my flats and soaked up the warmth from the sun. The following 10’ were priceless.

Fast-forward 30’ and I found myself half way through the first interval with the sound of multiple footsteps behind me. It was in that moment, I realized that a) I’ve been running by myself for too long, and b) I like running out front, away from the crowds.

Jimmy had prescribed 8x1k at 10k pace. The only wrinkle was that I didn’t know what my 10k pace was... the disappointing 37’ run recently at Landsend, the missed by targeted 36’, or the longed for 35’. I was feeling nostalgic and enjoyed (I use the word loosely) the speed.

The first repetition felt too easy, loose. I picked it up slightly on over the next two eventually settling on uncomfortable yet relaxing 3:30’s: 3:37, 3:32, 3:32, 3:30, 3:30, 3:27, 3:30, and 3:22.

The evening was capped with the 3Ps, pizza, a pint and the Penny Farthing. Priceless!

Training:
Sep 27: easy 44:12
Sep 28: steady 51:41
Sep 29: 1:11:40 with 8x1k 10kP (1’)

VTS Race #8: 5,000m (Fugly)

I’ve participated in enough races to fully appreciate and understand a few of the finer points concerning: pacing, attitude, fitness and desire. My summary, “you can’t run fast unless you run fast”. This all too obvious statement usually requires a certain amount of attitude (belief in oneself), fitness and race smarts. Apparently I still have a lot to learn.

After returning from our first camping trip (with children) and only moments prior to toeing the line I had enough wherewithal to draft out a rough race plan. Based on my recent mile, the McMillan Calculator predicted a 5,000m time of 17:17. I was hoping to run something faster, ideally closer to 17:00 but settled on sub 17:10... for no reason other than an unfounded belief that I was entitled to run faster. My pace/km was 3:26.

I chatted with the eventual winner (and perpetual superstar) Lucy Smith just before the start and knew that she was aiming to hold 3:25s with the thought being able to slip under 17:00 if the conditions were right. Sure, why not I thought. I was completely surprised then when instead of a moderate 81”-82” opening 400m, we cruised through in 78”. At that moment I knew I had to either, a) run with it and accept the result that fate would deliver or b) slow down. I choose poorly.

We spilt the opening kilometre in 3:23 the whole time alternating 400s as there was a wickedly strong wind on the backstretch. We continued this pattern through 2,400m, after which all I could do was squeak out a weak apology between gasps and wait for the inevitable.

The train wreck was excruciating. Despite trying to hold my form (the usual smooth stride and relaxed shoulders) it felt as if I was running uphill, into the wind with wet sneakers. In the end I crossed the line in the predicted 17:17 but couldn’t help but think of the possibility that existed had I run a smart race. Still, the result was far better than my first 5,000m in May (17:40) and a further improvement over the 17:24 run in June.

The carnage: 3:23, 3:24, 3:28, 3:35 & 3:27

Enough of this, back to vacation for a couple more weeks...

Training: VTS #8: 5,000m, 17:17.0, 3:27/km, 5:34/mi, 2nd OA

VTS Race #6: the Mile (again)

There are certain events in life where familiarity or experience can help bread a sense of calm. Competing in the mile isn’t one of them. And so it was that on a warm Saturday evening in late July, I found myself again pacing nervously, almost painfully as I waited to be called to the line.

CRACK!

Unlike last time there was no hesitation upon hearing the sound of the gun, rather the sharp noise brought almost instantaneous relief. Bolting clear from the line I immediately found myself out front and for the duration of the event was unaware of the other competitors. As I rounded the first corner and despite strangely heavy legs, I repeatedly told myself to slow down knowing that the initial rush that accompanies the burning off of the excitement and fear would soon be over.

Much like last time, the first 200m went by dizzily fast. I glanced at my watch, 37.5... and again much like last time, I had difficulty finding meaning in the split. The additional 9m at the beginning made the opening leg meaningless.

I heard the crowd as I passed the start, alone, the announcer educating the spectators that if I were to continue this pace I ‘may’ sneak under 5:00. I also heard for the first and last time a single high-pitched voice, “go daddy, go”.

“… 1:15 …”

I rounded the corner again and began my journey down the backstretch for the second time. It was about after 500m that it started... the all too familiar acid strain, my systems beginning to panic, organs shutting down for the duration. My legs started to get the first wave of lactic numbness. I don’t recall much else but a numbed sense of hurting.

“… 2:30 …”

Starting the third lap, I was really feeling it now, a sense of fear and dread knowing that I still had a long way to go. Just before the 1,000m mark I started my kick. Probably nothing noticeable but I didn’t want to slip off the pace. My shoulders now ached.

As I sped down the homestraight, the lactic acid was boiling. I remember the announcer, Paul telling the crowd that I was still on pace for a sub-5:00 mile, an important and hard fought barrier for the mile. Then the bell rang out.

“… 3:45 ...”

I rounded the corner and ran onto the backstretch for the last time. With about 200m remaining I was finally tying up. I was fighting fiercely to maintain form, trying valiantly to lift my ears off my shoulders. I recalled something Ron had yelled during the final lap of my last race and with great effort and determination pumped my arms fiercely. I pumped harder still, trying to concentrate as my headed rocked.

I could see the clock in the distance. Paul had the crowd cheering, as I tried to make sense of the number. I knew it would be close. I was completely numb, a world of pain. I would find out later that I crossed the line with a time of 5:00.5, half a second off my goal. It looks like I’m going to have to wait for until next season to have a crack at this again. Bugger. That said, I didn’t walk away empty handed as I won an adidas watch. Oh, and next time, I’m running in the elite race... although I would’ve come last I can only hope I that by chasing someone’s coattail I might have found the time I needed.

Training: VTS #6: mile, 5:00.5, 3:06/km, 5:00/mi, 1st OA

VTS Race #4: 5,000m (Track is Back)

It had been eight laps since I’d run comfortably in the slipstream of the runner in front. Now, almost in jest I felt nothing but the imaginary slap as their wake dangled painfully out of reach.

The bell rang loud in my ear as I began my last lap. I round the corner and ran hard onto backstretch for the last time. I remembered the advice painfully gained from my last race, and tried in vain to hold my form. I had started my kick 500m out, and now with 300m remaining I had made minimal progress. Rather than gaining on my nearest competitor I enjoyed the lukewarm comfort of a dead heat. Once again there was nothing left in the tank. And much like last time I was left gasping, hands on knees after crossing the finish line.

A colleague and I were swapping weekend war stories this morning. He asked me what it felt like during one of those races, and my answer, “a long drawn-out paper cut”.

On the weekend I participated in Victoria Track Series Race #4, the 5,000m. It would be my second 5,000m of the summer, my first eight week earlier a disappointing (personal worst) 17:40. Despite having lost two weeks to an injured ligament, I was looking forward to making gains in my quest for a new PB.

Unlike last time where they held separate heats, on Saturday the organizers combined the elite and open races and I toed the line with 20 other nervous athletes eventually finishing in 17:24, 16” faster than my previous race. More importantly (and despite a fast opening lap) I was pleased with my pacing.

May 01: 3:35, 3:25, 3:36, 3:37, 3:25

Jun 26: 3:23, 3:30, 3:31, 3:30, 3:30

Obtaining a new PB (16:51) in the next two months will be a push, but I’m looking forward to the challenge. Last summer I ran three 5k races over the similar 8-week period and lowered my time from 17:27 to 17:07 (a 20” improvement). So far, I’ve managed to knock 16” off, in a little over 6-weeks. And with 8-weeks remaining until the August 21 final race, I have the road clearly laid out in front of me. With wildcard this summer will be the arrival of our newest family member.

Training:
Jun 21: day off
Jun 22: A.M. 1:15:07 with 4x2' (1') + 6x1' (30") + 8x30" (30"), P.M. easy 1:02:26
Jun 23: easy 54:16
Jun 24: easy 43:14
Jun 25: day off
Jun 26: 1:00:17 with 5,000m 17:24, 7th OA, 4th AG
Jun 27: rolling 1:22:21


Weekly mileage: 6h17’41”, +/- 89km or 56 miles

VTS Race #3: the Mile (my first)

CRACK!

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There was a small moment of hesitation when I thought my legs were going to fail me completely, and then I was away. Bolting clear from the line, burning off the rush of excitement and fear that had been weighing me down. Almost immediately, I found myself on the outside in about fifth position and not where I wanted to be. I ran strong around the first bend and tucked nicely into second, about two yards off the pace.

The first 200 went by as always, dizzily fast and I risked glancing at my watch, 38.0. Opening in that time was par for the course for me but as I tried to adjust the split for the additional 9m at the start, I quickly realized my brain was lacking the necessary concentration and gave up the calculation. What should I have been running?

I heard the crowd as we passed the start in a relatively tight bunch, the announcer reading off names like role call on the first day of school. But did I hear that, probably not. I swore I heard one single voice, “go daddy, go”.

“… 1:15, 1:16, 1:17…”

I rounded the corner again and began my journey down the backstretch for the second time, then it hit me. It started in my gut, a slow acid kind of strain, my systems beginning to panic, intestines, other organs shutting down for the duration. And my legs started to get the first wave of lactic numbness. Shoulders and arms starting now. However, what I remember most was the sheer dehydration in my throat, I was completely parched.

I could hear the panting and heavy strides of the runners behind me. Someone was trying to move up on the outside. Who was it? I hung in there coming into the home straight for the second time, although this time a little more laboured. As the crowd yelled, this time I knew I heard it, there was no mistake, “go daddy, go”.

“… 2:35, 2:36, 2:37…”

Starting the third lap, I was really feeling it now, the old intestine-sliding-down-the-leg extremis that comes when it dawns on you that there is a long way to go. Paul, the first place runner had put 15m on me, but as I stared down the far straighaway I knew I was gaining, slowly.

My shoulders ached now with the heavy strain of the lactic acid, so I pumped harder, trying to concentrate on form as my headed rocked back. I had been warned that this is where I needed to focus, maintain the pain, then push through it. Strangely enough, I vividly remember taking stock and was surprised at my inability to recognize any pain. I was completely numb.

As I sped down the homestraight, I really felt it, the lactic acid was boiling, but I was also getting excited knowing that this time it would not be long, that it wasn’t going to go on forever. Then the bell rang out.

“… 3:47, 3:38, 3:49”

As I rounded the corner and ran onto backstretch for the last time, I was tying up, “feck me, what was I doing”. My ears were now firmly resting on my shoulders and my arms were heavy. I opened my kick only to find I was already in top gear, there was nothing left. I couldn’t breathe fast enough, my chest was pounding. I remember someone telling me to relax my chin, and Ron yelling at me to pump my arms as I soared onto the home stretch, running in fear of the footsteps behind.

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"So this is what it feels like, this is what happens..."

Earlier that morning, I plugged my recent 17:40 5k into McMillan’s Calculator and was unceremoniously awarded a time of 5:06.0. I crossed the line in 5:04.2. I have eight weeks to find another four seconds. I loved every painful moment.

Training: VTS #3: mile, 5:04.2, 3:09/km, 5:04/mi, 2nd OA

Royal Victoria Marathon (9-weeks out)

The calm before the storm; I think that phrase best describes my recent week of training. After a reasonably solid two weeks, I used the last seven days to recoup. Truth be told, I don’t feel like I needed the break. Apart from a tight back (which I’m taking care of – thanks Jaymie), my stride feels comfortable and relaxed, and I’ve been managing to log some decent sleep. I suppose it’s better now than to have it forced upon me.

I have a tendency to take each day as it comes, never looking too far down the road. I believe this to be a good quality, particularly when I’m my own coach. That said, it wasn’t until late in the week then that I noticed what lay out in front of me. Four of the next five weeks are monstrous, the bread and butter of my marathon preparation and they’ve snuck up on my like the damn rabbits to my vegetable garden. Perhaps there was some reasoning behind that scheduled rest?

As for the last few days, well, the week rounded out as it started… with some relaxed easy running. I had considered swapping Saturday’s w/o for a 5k track race on Friday evening, but when my sister volunteered to baby-sit, Ally and I took the opportunity to get out of the house (together) for what felt like the first time in months, perhaps longer.

Saturday morning rolled around then, and it was with some trepidation that I drove down to the Oak Bay Track and started a light warm-up. Three weeks earlier I had run a similar session, only this time around I was to add another repeat, 5x1200m at 5k pace.

I don’t know why, but I was nervous about starting the workout. I jogged on the spot for a moment, shook my shoulders out, toed the line and the rest was history. In the end, the session turned out to be quite boring or at least to dull to write much about. I felt like I had a metronome beating inside me, and very uncharacteristically for me chose not to check my splits. Rather I concentrated on a controlled comfortable effort and when I finished I felt I could’ve run at least one more: 3:59, 4:00, 3:57, 4:00, 3:59.

The highlight of the week though was yesterday morning. Carter picked me up and we drove out to Thetis for a great trail run. I can’t remember the last time I was out there, obviously too long.

Here’s to the week ahead and a some solid running, happy trails!

Training:

Wednesday: easy 42:02

Thursday: easy 43:48

Friday: steady 57:02

Saturday: 1:07:55 with 5x1200m (400m) 5kP

Sunday: easy 1:19:40

Weekly mileage: 5h36’43”, +/- 78k or 49 miles

Royal Victoria Marathon (10-weeks out)

It has been months since I’ve managed to string together back-to-back solid weeks, but the last fortnight has more than made up for it. Today alone, spoke volumes.

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After a hard track session Wednesday afternoon with Brad, I made sure to keep the effort light for the remainder of the week. Friday was a bit of a struggle but I attribute that to mental fatigue after a killer day. Saturday on the other hand couldn’t have been more different; I was able to coax Carter out of the house for an early morning jaunt through the Broadmead trails. Thoroughly enjoyable.

Today though, ha, that’s where the rubber hit the pavement.

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I’ve scheduled three key marathon pace sessions before the race in October, and today was where it all began. First off, I must apologise to a few friends who enquired about getting out for a Sunday run. Given the (sadistic) nature of the workout, or at least my chosen venue, I opted to run this one solo.

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The plan was simple, 6k (6’), 5k (5’), 4k (4’), 3k (3’) & 2k… near or at MP; the location, Oak Bay Track.

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I wanted to ease into the effort and so planned to run the first interval at 3:55 pace/km (2:45:46), dial it up slightly for the second 3:50 pace/km (2:41:45), and then hold on for dear life for the remaining three, 3:48 pace/km (2:40:20). Nothing ever goes according to plan.

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When I arrived at the track, the air was thick after a light rain. I warmed up along the beach and then made my way back to the field. For all but the last two kilometres, patchy clouds of fog kept me company along the homestretch only to stand me upright on the other side of the oval.

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It didn’t more than 2km for me to remember just how uncomfortable MP effort can be. Knowing I was in for the long haul, I shut my mind out and instead focused on the rhythm of my breathing and the sound of my shoes hitting the wet track. The second interval felt markedly easier and the third was ridiculous, easy that is, or at least it felt. Sadly I somehow thought I’d feel more comfortable toward the end, what with the shorter intervals… this was not to be. The last 5k was a test of character and reminder me of the last few km’s of a marathon. I think I passed, just.

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3:53, 3:49, 3:53, 3:52, 3:48, 3:49 (3:50.7)

3:49, 3:51, 3:54, 3:46, 3:49 (3:49.8)

3:45, 3:46, 3:46, 3:52 (3:47.2)

3:47, 3:47, 3:49 (3:47.7)

3:44, 3:46 (3:45.0)

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Everything considered, I couldn’t be happier with the workout. It also provided me with an opportunity to practice my in-race nutrition only unlike last week, this time it was at speed. I experienced a slight stomach cramp toward the end but I think that had more to do with the stop/start nature of the session.

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Until next time, happy trails!

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Training:

Thursday: easy 49:01

Friday: steady 1:10:50

Saturday: easy 58:01

Sunday: 2:10:12 with 6k, 5k, 4k, 3k & 2k at MP

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Weekly mileage: 7h28’32”, +/- 105k or 66 miles

Cruel and Unusual

With Ally away this weekend at a hen party, Isla and I have been given complete run of the house. Papa gets to watch his choice of movie while nursing a cold beer and the wee one can enjoy plums and blueberries to her heart’s content. Sadly, without the extra pair of hands the prospect of me getting out for a run let alone a workout on Saturday was doubtful. Sunday, even less likely. With this in mind, I took advantage of a late start at work and squeezed in a track session early this morning.

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Surprisingly, as I drove toward Oak Bay, it felt as if every ounce of energy was being sucked from my body. The enthusiasm I displayed as I slid out of the car was reminiscent of a child at bedtime. Completing a solid workout was in doubt.

As I sat on the bleachers lacing up my flats, I watched Seamus was finish-up his workout. He didn’t look nearly as fluid as when he was knocking off a multitude of 27” 200s a few weeks back, and we concluded that there must be something in the air… I had my out. If Seamus couldn’t run well that morning, why should I begin?

Not wanting to delay the inevitable, I decided to forgo the usual strides and hopped straight into the first repeat. It was half way through the first lap that the right-hand side of my back seized, completely taking my breath away. I cruised for a few strides, trying to decide whether to pull the plug but my determination (stupidity) won out and I carried on.

Although I could feel the strain during the remaining intervals, running didn’t seem to make it any worse. I stretched my back during each recovery, would toe the line and then run a controlled 1200. The consistency was uncanny: 4:01, 4:01, 3:59, 3:59

Typically in a session like this, I would split the first 200 in :37, complete the 400 in 1:22 and have to sprint to make up a 3-4” deficit on the last lap. Today, I split almost every 400 on 80” and was surprised how relaxed I felt, particularly during each closing lap. Welcome to the weekend.

P.s. My back is now worse and the idea of chasing around a highly energetic 15 month old child is going to be a challenge.

Training:

Thursday: easy 45:31

Friday: 1:07:35 with 4x1200m 5kP (400m)

Answered

Three questions were asked of me lately, two by friends and one of myself. Thought I might use this opportunity to address them.

Q. Is Hicham the same person as in this article?

A. Mark, I have no idea how you came across the TC article but as Dr. Evil already pointed out, yes, he is the same Hicham that ran with us in Boston. Don’t be fooled by the moniker, it couldn’t be further from the truth.

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Q. Doesn't Jack Daniels’ state that repeats at that pace should not exceed 5 minutes each (re: my w/o last Tuesday)?

A. Thomas, the short answer is yes. I believe that Daniels’ is one of the best coaches around and I’ve had success with his marathon program. As I train for the RVM though, I thought I’d try something different. I’ve built a framework based on Gabriele Rosa’s emphasis on speed (arguably the world’s greatest marathon coach), allowed for 2-weeks of transition, and then tacked on an approach used by Ronaldo da Costa (2:06:05). As a check, I’ve overlaid this on my preparation for the California Int’l Marathon in 2006 (my fastest marathon to date)... the result is eerily similar.

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Q. What the hell was Bruce thinking when he gave me this w/o in 2006, and why am I doing it again?

A. Because I want to reconnect with my speed. Almost three years ago, Bruce gave me the following w/o as I prepared for the CIM, 3x [600 2:00, (1’) 1,000 3:12 (3’)], and in an effort to build upon the past I attempted the session Saturday morning.

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I wasn’t too worried about the 600s (2:00), but the idea of running 1,000s at +/- 3k pace (3:12) was worrying. I really don’t enjoy the discomfort of running 5k pace, and I like 3k pace even less. Not wanting to dwell on the inevitable though, after running a short warm-up I hopped straight into the first 600. I kept the rhythm steady and told myself not to worry about finishing 2” slow; much better than the alternative. As the seconds ticked away during my recovery, I could only grin as I toed the line about to begin the faster paced interval. 3:11, wow, that was unexpected.

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I tried to concentrate on relaxing during the second set but as the times indicate, I believe there is an inverse relationship with these concepts where I’m concerned. The last set rolled around all too soon but as it turned out, I shouldn’t have worried. That is not to say there wasn’t a little bit of desperation in the last lap.

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2:02, 3:11

2:03, 3:14

2:01, 3:11

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As I was cooling down, two friends of mine showed up at the track to start their own w/o, 6x200. I watched them for the few and then was coerced into keeping them company for a couple. I couldn’t believe the butterflies in my stomach as we started, but all that quickly vanished. Can’t recall running that fast in quite a while, 27.3. I was half way through the second 200 when I felt my blood turning to concrete and decided to shut in down coming out of the corner, 29.1. Fun though, stupid considering my achilles, but fun.

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Training:

Thursday: steady 35:56

Friday: easy 38:42

Saturday: 1:05:52 with 3x(600m (1’), 1,000m) (3’) + 2x200m

Sunday: easy 1:56:55

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Weekly mileage: 6h24’18”, +/- 90k or 56 miles

Swiftsure

This weekend, the waters of the coast of Victoria played host to the 66th annual Switftsure Yacht Race, or as was the case for much of the morning, “Driftsure”, although thankfully not accompanied by fog or drizzle. For all the spectators standing on Clover Point watching the mass of 200+ boats the weather couldn’t have been better.

Fearing my date with the track would evolve into my own hellish Driftsure, I managed to coerce Carter to join me. As it was, after a gentle warm-up we toed the start line (sans shirts) on a gorgeous spring morning.

The plan was simple, run 5x800m at 3”-5” faster than 5k pace; based on my recent 5,000m this would have me aiming for 2:43-2:45 intervals. I’d like to blame it on an overeager appetite, but as is par for the course with my track w/o’s I stopped the clock after the first 800m slightly faster than I would have liked (but not entirely unexpected).

I made sure to hit my pace times for the next two pieces, but couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable they felt. It never escapes me that whenever I focus on hitting my splits, my running feels laboured… distracted. With this in mind, I focused on relaxing on my fourth interval, making sure not to overextend myself. The result was pleasing.

2:35, 2:41, 2:40, 2:36, 2:26

For my last one, I decided to concentrate on “not concentrating” but rather ran by feel. I made sure not to go crazy, but let my legs stride out and with Rumon’s assistance, made sure my shoulders were relaxed. The result was entirely surprising particularly as I closed in a 36”, a mark I was struggling to hit while running 10x200m last week.

For those interesting in reading the phenomenal tale of Reid Coolsaet’s inaugural marathon, check out his site here… 2:17:08, congratulations!

I hope everyone enjoyed the weekend and until tomorrow…

Training:
Thursday: easy 37:39
Friday: day off (scheduled)
Saturday: 1:10:17 with 5x800 (3’)
Sunday: hilly 1:00:08

Weekly mileage: 5h23’52”, +/- 75k or 47 miles

Boston Marathon (5-weeks out)

“Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore always carry a small snake.” - W. C. Fields

My training this weekend went well, not as well as it did three years ago but I took a multitude of steps in the right direction.

On Saturday, I was down at Oak Bay track running kilometer repeats off 90” rest. More than anything, I wanted to build into the session and I believe I accomplished that:

3:34, 3:29, 3:28, 3:27
3:26, 3:27, 3:29, 3:24

As for Sunday, well it snowed once again and Hicham and I found ourselves halfway up Mount Doug dreaming of warmer weather.

As for this week, a friend of mine is out from the UK. And not coincidently I forgot how much I appreciate Ardbeg.

Here’s to a good week.

Training:
Saturday: 1:16:17 with 8x1k
Sunday: easy 1:32:59

Weekly mileage: 6h24’59”, +/- 90k or 56 miles

Final preparations

I went down to Oak Bay track this evening for a final sharpening session leading into the race on Sunday. After a gentle warm up along the beach, I arrived back at the field just as Hugh was finishing his first circuit. After quickly disrobing, I jumped in behind him a proceeded to count off eight comfortable and relaxed laps.

1:17, 1:20, 1:16, 1:18, 1:18, 1:20, 1:19, 1:19

Half way through the workout, Hicham popped by to cheer us on as he waited for his Tuesday night group to show. Thanks to him, I will be showing up at the race “on” time. It appears that this is the only Island Series race that begins at 9:00 with all the others starting at 11:00… to make matters worse, the clocks spring forward on Saturday (just what I need).

Training: 55:50 with 8x400 at 5k pace (90”)

Exposed

I came across the following quote this evening, “Some people don't have the guts for distance racing, the polite term for them is sprinters,” it made me smile.

The last few days have been relatively busy, Ally enjoying the company of her friends and family at the baby shower and me enjoying the company of an office desk buried in financial statements (the fact that I wasn’t at the shower is pure coincidence).

It began as only a slight pang, nothing more than a curious wisp, the fragrance of an unseen tress that leaves you guessing. I first noticed it two weeks ago when perusing some race results. I was positioning myself in a race I didn’t run, measuring a hypothetical performance against actual outcomes. It started innocently enough, but before I’d turned off the computer a stream of deep-rooted dreams was playing in my mind… I want to race another marathon, hard.

With the Bazan Bay 5k World Championships this weekend I feel incredibly exposed and under prepared. It’s not for lack of running, I’ve done some, but with minimal volume my body is lacking endurance leaving my mind disconcerted.

On Friday, Hicham, Hugh, the Flying Dutchman, Jen and I met at Oak Bay track for closing session. Again, the workout was simple, 1600 at 3k pace, 1200 a couple seconds faster, 800 quicker still followed by 400.

With the Dutchman setting the pace, we fell in line and given the ubiquitous headwind on the front stretch, I was grateful for the company. Alas, with fleet footed friends I couldn’t escape the inevitable jury (distance, time, pace/400):

1600, 5:12, 1:18.0
1200, 3:52, 1:17.3
800, 2:29, 1:14.5
400, 1:02, 1:02.0

Training:
Thursday: easy 39:45
Friday: 1:15:04 with 1600, 1200, 800, 400 (3’)
Saturday: 1:00:52 easy
Sunday: easy 1:24:25

The hardest workout ever!

Okay, conceivably Friday’s workout wasn’t the hardest ever, I certainly remember being gradually stretched to an inch of my life/capability during a 4x2-mile session this time last year. And, you could argue that whenever you miss your goal times, in that very moment, any workout has immediately been transformed into a Herculean task. Still, two nights ago on a quiet track and under a setting sun, I suffered.

The workout was simple, 24x200 broken down as 4x(6x200) with decreasing recovery (75”/60”/45”/30”/15”) and 90” between sets. The effort, well that is where the difficulty started. I was supposed to run at mile pace but having not run a mile all out in along time, I wasn’t sure where to start. Still, I suppose if I was to complete a 1600m TT I’d finish between 4:00 and 5:10, probably closer to 5:09.

In the end, I decided to run the session “by feel” allowing myself the prerogative to make changes on the fly. I opened the first interval in what felt like a relaxed float, 30”, I didn’t run anything faster (avg., quickest, slowest):

Set 1: 32.5, 30.0, 35.0
Set 2: 35.2, 34.0, 36.0
Set 3: 34.7, 33.0, 37.0
Set 4: 34.4, 33.0, 36.0

It was during the clearly inadequate recovery between the 5th & 6th intervals that the understanding of starting too fast slowly sunk in, my breathing coming in insufficient gaps while the lactic acid pooled. Strangely though, during my moment of realization and pain and wry smirk formed in the corner of my face. This was fun, this was living.

A question then, what in your experience, is the most difficult running workout that you’ve had the pleasure to complete/attempt?

Training:
Wednesday: easy 1:06:01
Thursday: easy 45:01
Friday: 1:09:56 with 4x(6x200)

Ignition

“Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us, our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life.” ~ Albert Einstein

On Friday, I enjoyed the luxury of not having to work and seized the opportunity with eager hands. I managed to squeeze in a few additional glorious minutes of sleep, benefited, and that is a relative term, from a light stretch and then drove down to Oak Bay track well before the heavens opened. It was a perfect morning.

The workout was simple, 4xmile at 5k pace, but given my inability to conquer its close relative two weeks back, 3xmile (5:18, 5:27, and 5:24) I was anxious. With my two recent race performances as a guide, I set myself a range of 5:21 to 5:24 to work with. And so after a completely unnecessary second trip to relieve myself, I could delay the inevitable no longer and launched into the workout with nothing but apprehension on my shoulders and the sound of my feet lifting off a damp track to keep me company.

I felt comfortable for the first lap, it passing in what was a brief moment and me gaining a 4” cushion. The middle 800 was uncomfortably comfortable but my strength and speed waned on the last lap leaving me sans cushion and overdrawn with the tailor.

With the first mile behind me, the second and third were better but not as comfortable as I would’ve liked, my form struggling and my effort-level elevated. When during the last mile I split the 800 in 2:43, having mentally gapped on the second lap, I thought I was finished. But then something entirely unexpected happened. Mentally I imagined caving, looking for the easy out, but physically, from a depth not taxed in almost a year my body responded and although I was running faster I felt easier, I had purpose. It’s a tad cliché, but the fire within was lit.

5:23, 5:20, 5:20, 5:20

On a sad note, on Friday evening Ally’s parents dropped by with some heartbreaking news. Her mom, who hasn’t been feeling well of late, unfortunately has drawn the short end of the stick, the days being counted on two hands.

Training:
Thursday: easy undulating 54:43
Friday: 1:13:16 with 4xmile at 5k pace (2’)
Saturday: easy 1:31:43

My inaugural marathon remembered

In a strange set of circumstances, yesterday I received emails from two of my dearest friends, one living in Vancouver and the other in Bristol (to protect their self-image I’ll call them Lance and Malcolm). When I look back over the last 15 years, I can portion it into distinct eras based entirely on who I ran with. Lance and Malcolm were running partners #2 and #3 respectively, and boy did we learn a lot (the hard way). I signed up for my first marathon, the Royal Victoria Marathon based on Lance’s encouragement and if for no other reason because he had signed up the week earlier. Neither of us knew anything about running and built our training around the programs and advice found in Runners World. Last night I rummaged through my old diaries and training logs finding these two entries:

“Today is now two days after my first ever marathon. Lance and I ran the Royal Victoria Marathon and it was fantastic. 0k-21k was a slow paced 1:38:00, 21k-32k an incredibly fast 10k in 41’ and then 32k-42k painfully slow… as I hit a tremendous wall. To quote, I felt like a four-legged bug with my two right legs torn off. But, I finished with a time of 3:38:00. It was the most incredible feeling to cross the finish line. I loved it. Tomorrow I’m sending in my application for the Vancouver International Marathon.” - October 12, 1994

“It’s a fantastic day out. Overcast with thick fog. I love it. My legs have recovered completely from the marathon now. People are still asking me about it. I love it!” - October 13, 1994

Tonight it was dark, wet and stormy and my experience on the track was far from enjoyable and nothing but character building. It has been raining hard throughout the day, flooding most of the infield; when I arrived I found waterfowl in lanes one through three.

The workout was simple, 6x800 at 5k pace -15” (2’), unfortunately despite my body being present my motivation and fortitude was elsewhere. Not only that, some bugger, and there was only two of us out there, tried to steal my toque that I’d left at the side to help mark the finish. When I confronted him he said I’d run right passed it and assumed it wasn’t mine, (bastard didn’t stop to ask). Anyhow, the wind soared and I struggled. The last interval was a real effort and a little misleading; I rounded the last corner and was literally knocked two lanes over as a massive gust left me standing still.

2:36, 2:36, 2:37, 2:39, 2:38, 2:41

Training: 1:03:31 with 6x800 (2’)

Blowing goats

Before I even began running, I knew it was going to be one of those nights. Those nights I imagine my grandfather would tell me about, where the wind howled and the rain spat in your face. He would tell me that back in his day they made the track an extra 10 meters longer to keep you honest and that there were slight hills on both straights to, well keep you honest.

And so it was tonight, after stepping out of the car and locking the door, that before I even took my first step I knew I was in for a character building session. The workout called for 3xmile at 5k pace; with my recent 8k race as a guide, predicting a 5k equivalent of 16:37, I decided to run 5:21/miles.

So after a few last minute heel kicks, some high knees and a half-hearted stride or two, I eased into the first interval with the controlled enthusiasm. The first 200 was fine, the wind at my back, but as I came around the last corner I collided with a bitter and unrelenting southwest wind that stood me up like schoolboy caught with his hand in the teachers desk drawer. There was no light at the start/finish and so I continued to run be feel, keeping relaxed and feeling light and was pleasantly surprised to finish stop the clock at 5:18.

I’m not really sure what happened next.

I decided to start at the opposite corner (it’s lit) and perhaps because I could see my splits, focusing too much on time rather than remaining relaxed, I could hardly believe it when I finished with a whooping 5:27. I’m not sure if my focus had completely disengaged but I considered throwing in the towel right there and calling it a night.

I’m uncertain what made me continue, I think I wanted to prove to myself that I hadn’t blown and my previous interval was due to even more intense winds, regardless I split the 1200 of my last mile at 4:00 but struggled during the remaining 400 finishing in 5:24.

Lessons learned then from tonights w/o: 1) focus, in a 5k race a mental lapse can cost you the everything, 2) forget the time and concentrate on running relaxed, controlled and with a light step and lastly 3) I need to work on my strength, dropping 4” on the last lap was despicable.

Training: 1:10:32 with 3xmile at 5k pace (2’) [5:18, 5:27, 5:24]

Asics GT 2130

I picked up a pair of the new Asics GT 2130 after the clinic last night and was eager to take them for a spin tonight. I wasn’t that impressed with the changes the company made with the 2120s (they felt clunky and too spacious in the forefoot) but the 2130s felt good. They were comfortable from the get go and the transition at the mid-foot was much more smooth than I expected. I did find toe-box (is that a word) more roomy than necessary but… I could’ve purchased a size smaller had I listened to Seamus. Overall I’d give the shoe a 90% based on performance and comfort.

With the inaugural Cobble Hill 10k this weekend (race #2 in the Island Race Series), tonight’s workout was short and simple, 6x400 slightly faster than 5k pace. Not wanting to overcook my legs I decided to aim for 78s… that was the plan at least.

After a gentle warm-up in bitterly cold conditions (I decided to keep my tights, both shirts and jacket on for the w/o) and a few drills I eased into the first interval, opening the first 200 in a relaxed 35”. As someone with an abundance of front-end speed, I find running a consistent pace in workouts like this difficult. It has probably been years since I’ve run 400s and it showed as it wasn’t until the fifth repeat that I ran an even split.

1:16
1:17
1:16
1:15
1:15
1:14

I’m excited with my decision to run a quick 5k by mid-March but also curious how this will translate and affect my marathon build (Ottawa is 11 weeks after Bazan Bay). Including the 8k two weeks ago, I’ve scheduled 6 races between now and Ottawa and as a result I also plan on keeping the volume down until much later than usual… just a thought.

Training: 52:42 with 6x400 (90”)

A return to the track

Twilight was fading fast as I made my way to the track, but turning left onto Goldsmith St. brought back encouraging memories; the sight of the large silhouetted tree within the infield comforting, like a familiar friend. Additionally, although dark, windy and distressingly cold the rain was holding off.

Hicham arrived shortly after I got there and we proceeded to warm-up discussing the day’s events. Ally and I had a scheduled trip to the doctor where I was informed, and I quote, “the sooner you realize that everything you do during the next three months will be wrong, the easier your life will be”. I love the frankness of our doctor. We also discussed something I brought up on Sunday, that of the approaching Island Race Series and how to go about fostering a sense of competition amongst the local clubs. Now I realize I risk coming across as a hypocrite given that I have been a member of the incredibly supportive club that I was previously analyzing, that said, where is the contest when the margin for the winning club is almost threefold of its nearest rival? Hearing stories from friends who have lived in England and report tales of club rivalry akin to the fiercest political contests perhaps, I just yearn to be part of something where my contribution makes a difference.

With Phoenix a nonstarter I’ve decided to focus the next couple months on trying to set a new 5k PB (17:04), something that I haven’t addressed in over a decade (March 23/07). The workout this evening, 5x800m at 5k pace, was a reintroduction to the track and an opportunity to bring some snap back into the pins. We cooked the opening interval, easing back on the next, but when running by feel on the third brought us to within a second of the first 800 we decided to go with the feeling (2:36, 2:43, 2:37, 2:37 & 2:33). Driving home I was particularly happy with the workout but after reviewing some past performances (here and here), I realize I have my work cut out for me.


Training:
Monday: scheduled day off (weights in the morning)
Tuesday: 1:01:32 with 5x800 (2’)

Where excuses don’t amount to much

Jogging (slowly) home from the track this morning I felt a fraction of the man I once was, dead tired, but yet with a waning grin on my face. With the sun shining, clear, crisp blue skies and nothing but scarce faded leaves to keep me company, the workout today felt like the calm before the storm, day #1 on my road south.

The schedule called for 3x 2-miles and based on last week’s half marathon I decided on a pace time ranging from 11:58 to 12:08. Jogging the once familiar 4-km to the field didn’t do anything to quell my anxiety; I was a young child standing under the classroom doorway on his first day of school. Perhaps it’s the cold evaluating nature of the track; there’s nowhere to hide, and where excuses don’t amount to much. This was my first real test since April, and I was scared shitless.

The first mile was uneventful but with 1200m to go, I felt abandoned, running in no-man’s-land, lacking in both cardiovascular fitness and leg speed I was reliant solely on guts and determination. That said, with the first interval behind me the subsequent two fell into place, each lap a reminder though of the daunting goal I’ve set for myself and the vast amount of work ahead. The times speak for themselves (AHR, MAX).

12:03 (161, 168)
11:59 (160, 167)
12:04 (161, 165)

Despite being content with my accomplishment, my ego took a drubbing when I compared today’s session to the one I completed on March 7 (about 5 weeks out of London), my only consolation being I’m 13 weeks from Phoenix.

11:08 (160, 164)
11:13 (158, 163)
11:05 (161, 166)
11:01 (163, 167)

Training:
Friday: 45:23 with 5x strides (1’)
Saturday: 1:21:32 with 3x 2-miles (2’), AHR 145, MAX 168