The Dog Days of Summer

Following the birth of our second child, together with a busy work schedule and preparing for (and hosting) my mom’s 65th birthday celebration it seems that my running has been negligently pushed to the back-burner. That said, given a 3,000m race on Saturday followed by the final race of the Victoria track Series the following week (5,000m)... perhaps a little downtime isn’t a bad idea.

I’ve still been able to maintain some consistency (if nothing but the 20’+ run to work) but the first three days of this week have been rather underwhelming with respect to the volume. Preparation for an autumn half-marathon should change that in short order.

Yesterday I was scheduled to run a series of 800s and 200s but was once again forced to improvise as stepping on a track seems more difficult than in prior years. After warming up for 20’ I opted for an additional 20’ of easy running, as the sleepless nights appear to be taking their toll. Corbin has been, and continues to be a calm and quiet child (in stark contrast to his sister), but the cumulative fatigue that accompanies all new parents continues to build.

However, once in the midst of the workout I was surprised at just how comfortable I felt. Sadly, running a 30” effort along the tranquil trail behind my house is a tad less subjective than the track.

Training:
Aug 09: easy 23:02
Aug 10: day off (unscheduled)
Aug 11: 1:10:57 w/ 3x(2.5’ (30”), 1’ (30”) 1’)(2.5’)
Aug 12: easy 24:21

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

The Little Man

Since the arrival of our “little man”, life continues... as it always does:
· Our dearest daughter still get’s up at 6:00 a.m. (5:40 this morning) regardless of the time I go to bed, apparently my schedule is of little concern;
· Ally continues to surprise me with her adaptability and calm demeanour; and
· When I stumble down to the shed in a tired stupor only to remember that my bike is at work, i.e. I ran home the day before, crying is okay but I still need to run to work.

In all seriousness, the routine in our household has changed little since Corbin’s birth. I’m not minimizing the arrival of a new child, but I still tend to make dinner, Isla continues to thoroughly enjoy either 8, 10 or 2 books before bed and my lovely wife picks up all the slack.

As for the running, well, although the volume has dropped off I’m thankful for being able to maintain some frequency particularly when it means throwing in a double to help a friend lesson the load on his shoulders.

Earlier this week I booked off work in order to spend a day (our wedding anniversary) with the family. Whilst everyone was sleeping I snuck out the back door and jogged down to the Lochside Track for an impromptu workout. I wanted to squeeze in some faster intervals after warming up with a couple miles of tempo:
· 2xmile: 5:57, 5:55
· 2x400: 1:19, 1:15
· 4x200: 0:35, 0:34, 0:33, 0:33

Although I’d hoped to run the 200’s faster, the difference may lie in the subjective distance (which I need to measure out). Still, not all that bad and with some luck I hope to use this to break the 5’ barrier at the Victoria track Series Race #6 this weekend.

Wish me luck!

Training:
Jul 26: A.M. 1:01:30 with 2x(3’ (1’) + 30”(1’) + 30”) (3’), P.M. hilly 47:02

Jul 27: sluggish 24:09

Jul 28: 57:32 w/ 2xmile (1') + 2x400 (2’) + 4x200 (1’)

Jul 29: day off (scheduled)
Jul 30: easy 25:54 w/ 4xstrides

New Arrival

Friday was all about family, and more importantly Ally. She was the star of the day in a very short (I don't know that I'd ever describe childbirth as sweet) performance. Shortly after 2 p.m. Corbin Thomas arrived weighing in a 8 lbs 1 oz... and is loved by his parents and ever so affectionate big sister.

Groundhog Day

The last ten days have become a bit of a blur, certainly not made any easier with my increased training. The mileage bump wasn’t in the plan but with imminent arrival of our newest family member, I can only surmise it is due to my own quirky coping mechanism. That or stupidity.

Always a glutton for punishment coupled with much need/appreciated distraction, last week I decided to squeeze in three workouts. I thought I was playing it safe by descending the intensity, but with the larger volume I may have been treading an awfully thin line. Either that or confused with marathon training.

Still I survived, barely. Although that’s possibly a little untrue because as I sit here I’m aware of nothing but heavy legs and unwanted overall fatigue. Even my lucky mauve shirt does little to lift my mood. Did I mention my sore neck? apparently sleeping on a single bed with my daughter, while resting my weary head on Dora the Explorer isn’t as romantic as once believed... at least not nearly as comfortable.

Ally’s due date ‘was’ supposed to be July 7th, but that came and went without much excitement. We did experience a false alarm on the 5th but after several hours at the hospital we were sent packing.

Since then, we’ve gone to bed every evening with the expectation that this would be it, only to repeat the cycle again. And again. As I explained it to a co-worker, it’s like coming home from work on a sunny Friday afternoon with nothing but a relaxing weekend ahead of you. Then, instead of waking to a glorious Saturday morning, I’m instead greeted with the cold harsh reality that only Monday can bring. Did I mention I’m impatient?

Training:
Jul 05: A.M. easy 26:49, P.M. 1:07:39 6x4’ hard (4’)
Jul 06: A.M. easy 48:15, P.M. easy 30:47
Jul 07: A.M. easy 24:00, P.M. 1:07:12 3x6’ T (1’) + 4x1’ (1’) + 6’ T
Jul 08: easy 50:42
Jul 09: 1:16:08 5x5’ T
Jul 10: day off (scheduled)
Jul 12: undulating 1:24:11

Weekly mileage: 7h55’43”, +/- 112km or 70 miles

Heat Wave

“The temperature in Victoria peaked at 31.6 degrees Wednesday, breaking the previous record for July 7, which was 28.9 in 1952. It’s also the highest since July 29 of last year, when the mercury reached a sweaty 35 degrees.”

I don’t know that I’d call two balmy days a heat wave, but given the average temperature over the last 10 months has fluctuated around 12C, I’ll take what I can get. Hello sunshine.

Following my recent 5,000m race, I found myself inspired but also left... wanting. And so, always the sucker for punishment, I decided to leave the qualitative measurement of “feel” behind and instead stepped up to the plate prepared for a more quantitative approach to training.

Despite not having access to track, or at least not having one conveniently located on my route home, I took advantage of two local footpaths that have been measured out by (I assume) the National Triathlon Center.

On Wednesday I ran 12x400 along the Blenkinsopp Connector, a paved route that runs across the valley, and only seconds from my doorstep. Notwithstanding the shorter intervals I’ve run on my various routes home, having a measured route to keep me honest was humbling: 1:14, 1:15, 1:16, 1:14, 1:16, 1:16, 1:17, 1:13, 1:16, 1:16, 1:15, 1:12.

Two days later, I found myself on the other side of the valley running 800s along the Lochside Trail. Last year I would’ve cruised through this workout with time to spare, but with my fitness building coupled with an undulating route I was again pleased with the results: 2:42, 2:41, 2:43, 2:41, 2:45, 2:42, 2:44, 2:46.

Happy trails.

Training:

Jun 28: comfortable 58:59
Jun 29: easy 43:31
Jun 30: 1:09:56 with 12x400 (2’)

Jul 01: easy 49:38
Jul 02: 1:03:59 with 8x800 (2’)
Jul 03: easy 32:28
Jul 04: rolling 1:21:58

Weekly mileage: 6h49’29”, +/- 94km or 59 miles

Bend It Like Beckham

At two years old, I think she has more skill than most of the English squad... certainly not any less. Hup Holland!

My training continues to roll along but with the wife expecting on Wednesday, coupled with last night’s false alarm, finding time to sit in front of the computer is difficult.

That said, I’m thoroughly enjoying what has quickly become a culinary tradition. For the third year running, for the duration of the Giro d'Italia (Tour of Italy), Tour de France, and Vuelta a España (Tour of Spain) I cook Italian, French and Spanish food respectively. Last night was no different as we sat down to a massive Salad Nicoise courtesy of Ally.

More later.