Tired

I don’t think I had been out for more than five minutes yesterday when I knew the run was going to be a struggle. It might have been the four slices of pizza in my stomach, regardless; I pulled the brim of my hat lower (narrowing my focus), dialed it back and continued onward… Cedar Hill, Mt. Tolmie, skirting Mt. Doug and home. It seems that whenever I start to build for a race I invariably have a run like this, one that tests our character and fortitude more than any aerobic ability. I could have easily pulled the plug early on, the depressingly dark grey clouds certainly didn’t aid any.

It wasn’t until I had walked in the door and was grabbing a glass from a cupboard so that I could have some water when I noticed there on the fridge, was v3. What I didn’t realize until then, was that on v3 (unlike any of its predecessors) I had scheduled 2x20’ MPE for yesterday’s run. Who knew?

So today, in an attempt to make up for yesterday’s lapse, I decided to squeeze a (variation of the) workout in on the Lochside Trail. The plan was, 2x4k at MP (approx. 3:36-3:48/km).

14:49 (3:28, 3:46, 3:45 & 3:50)
15:05 (3:42, 3:52, 3:47 & 3:45)

The first interval was okay but I was starting to tie up during the last kilometer. After splitting 3:52 for the second kilometer in the second interval, I considered stopping as I felt, or I thought I did, that I was falling to pieces. I picked up the effort slightly and managed to hold it together, feeling relatively smooth for the last 2k.

Now, we’re off to Zambri’s as soon as I find a way to wake Ally up without disturbing the bear?

Training:
Thursday: easy 1:20:06
Friday: 59:12 with 2x4k (2’) at MP

Old Speckled Hen

Perhaps not the most beneficial recovery drink, but the “Old Speckled Hen” that is quietly sitting beside me, tiny beads of moisture clinging desperately to the side, makes for some good company.

It rained again today.

On Monday I mentioned having made a new marathon program, today I am on version three (v3). I love tinkering with race programs; at times I’ve questioned whether I enjoy preparing a program (where the possibilities remain limitless) more than I do the race itself (definitely more so that the training). V3 then, a couple more MP efforts and I’ve introduced a little speed work into next week, the volume remains the same. At times like this, I almost wish I were coached.

Arriving home it was still relatively light, that is subjective as the uncomfortably close clouds were a depressingly flat grey hue, regardless, I decided to explore the neighborhood discovering a new park (Playfair) and four new trails… success in my books.

Training: relaxed 43:05

Damp

It took a little over a week before I was able to thoroughly revel in what will likely be months of fine west coast commuter weather as today, it rained. And, after looking at the long term forecast it appears I will have plenty of time to adjust to these inclement conditions. No, this evening as I biked home I was treated to an inky damp blackness occasionally riding through a shroud of mist hovering atop the warmer ground.

With it getting dark an hour early, and not being familiar with my surroundings, I was at a bit of a loss as I headed out the door. So, like the creature of habit I am I decided to skirt Mount Doug, detouring through Ritchet’s Bog before returning home. I decided to wear my HRM for the first time in months and was surprised at the relatively low readings I was getting… when I was getting them, 125-135. I decided to ignore the watch, and after convincing myself I wasn’t going to fade, was surprised that my frequency and stride length held for the better portion of the run as I lightly pressed the pace.

Training: wet 1:06:26

Phoenix (abridged)

I love my new house. It dawned on me this evening as I was standing in the kitchen; I’d just finished making cheese sandwiches on our new butcher’s block, and after putting tomorrows lunch in the fridge, I decided to grab a bottle of Jura down from the cupboard for a nightcap. The lights were dim, a soft jazz tune floating up from CBC Radio 2 and some scotch in my hand. As I said, I love my new house.

A comment Mike made has been eating me up inside for about a week now. He called me a veteran marathoner, which completely caught me by surprise and then suggested that with only 10 weeks to prepare for Phoenix, I still might be able to pull myself together. With Ally due in April, and a severely truncated spring marathon window, I’m wrestling with the idea of setting aside my ego and racing regardless. How fit can you get in ten weeks? Somebody once told me, or at least I seem to remember, that you can’t over-train in twelve weeks. With these thoughts in mind I’ve decided to recommit to the race (although I still haven’t registered) and have made myself a ten week marathon race program.

With no time to lose, and hot on the heals of yesterdays run, I decided to go with the flow (or in this case my enthusiasm) and head out this evening to stretch the legs. I’m sure the run achieved little or nothing at building any aerobic capacity, but I’d made a conscious mental shift as I left the house. No longer was I allowing myself to wallow disappointment, no, I was focused, I had purpose and I was going to run.

Training: easy 20:19

[photo: Mount Doug]

When it rains

I had just finished disposing of a grimy load of scrap at the dump, remnants of our renovations, when one of the workers pointed out that the right front tire was low. I had borrowed a friend’s truck and convinced myself I could make it to the nearest station, I didn’t. Five minutes later, I found myself laying in a puddle of brown muddy water underneath the box while struggling with a broken security release so that I could lower the conveniently placed spare tire down… I couldn’t. Such was the beginning of my Saturday, which only proved to get worse.

Despite a weekend full of unplanned surprises, I managed to squeak in a few runs, and salvaged the better part of a troubled week. Yesterday morning saw me skirting Mount Doug, something I imagine to become routine given my new abode. And today, Hicham dragged me through Rithets Bog and out of town, looping around Elk & Beaver Lakes and home, but not before we managed to get ourselves lost in Broadmead. I didn’t deserve to feel as good as I did, but graciously took what I could. I still haven’t decided whether to race Phoenix given the extremely undesirable build and ten brief weeks remaining, but think I’ll see what I can make of the next few weeks and then make my decision.

Training:
Saturday: hilly 1h10’30”
Sunday: easy 2h00’05”

[photo: Beaver Lake]

No such luck

I didn't get the job.

I'm frustrated and disappointed, apparently I don't have enough experience which makes me wonder why I was screened in? Once again, they see so much potential. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, much like asking a girl out and being told, "you're a really nice guy...”

Once home I decided to go for a run in an attempt to release some of the dissatisfaction and/or give me something to really whine about; up Mount Doug I went in an attempt to gain a new perspective on life.

On my ascent I fell, and truly hated myself for realizing the irony as I picked myself back up.

My head hurts again.

Training: an irritated 54:51

New beginnings

The fatigue is so ingrained that a night’s sleep doesn’t manage to wash away the previous day’s filth, leaving me with a deficit that is growing perilously close to complete exhaustion.

My head hurts.

I like change, but, given my tendency for orderly fashion, I like predictable change, change that I have some semblance of control over (whether real or otherwise). But with the moving, renovations, now having to bike to work, preparing a Treasury Board presentation, all the while waiting to hear on a new job (ask me tomorrow)… I’m tired, no excuses, just tired.

And to rub salt further into the wound, given looming deadlines and my limited capacity, last week I decided to put my running on hold and have inadvertently jeopardized my plan to run Phoenix in January.

The pain in my head has intensified now sitting directly above my right eye socket.

But I now see that long looked for light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel. For the first time ever we have high-speed internet, the painting is finished (almost), the renovation (significantly) complete and I have begun to explore my new surrounding. And the kicker, Carter just called and we’re considering the idea of running to work (in the future)… the possibilities are endless.

Training:
Thursday: day off
Friday: day off
Saturday: day off
Sunday: day off
Monday: day off
Tuesday: day off
Wednesday: 49:53 easy
Thursday: 39:50 easy