Training Log Archive: OJIn the 29 days ending Feb 29, 2012:
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Wednesday Feb 29, 2012 #
8 AM
Surveying 8:00:00 [0]
6 PM
Running 45:00 [3] 9.0 km (5:00 / km)
Eight hours surveying at Hayle, got lucky with some gorgeous sunshine, but tiring work fiddling with contours all day. Had a nice evening run out with Shane on the standard Beacon loop as the light failed over the ocean. Felt better for that!
Tuesday Feb 28, 2012 #
12 PM
Running 55:00 12.0 km (4:35 / km)
Still feeling somewhat flat and decided to abandon the planned session in favour of an easy Loxley valley loop. Felt good once I got going so added in 15xhill bounds at the end for some extra spice.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Monday Feb 27, 2012 #
8 AM
Running 30:00 [2] 6.0 km (5:00 / km)
IW via a big climb up to Bolehill Park.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
5 PM
Running 20:00 [2] 4.0 km (5:00 / km)
Really not feeling it today so took a short one HFW instead of the planned longer loop.
Running Drills 10:00 [3] 1.0 km (10:00 / km)
Stopped off for a set of drills and sprints en route.
Sunday Feb 26, 2012 #
11 AM
Running 2:15:00 [2] 28.0 km (4:49 / km)
Pretty tired this morning but such a nice day that I had to get out for a longish one. Carved out an exceptionally good route which is a contender for new best long run. Three Reservoirs taking in the paths around Damflask, Dale Dyke and Agden, all undulating, almost all off road on good trails and all very scenic. Potential to add Strines too for an extension. Pleasantness of the run was marred by two things only: firstly, setting off through Hillsborough on local derby day in a red t-shirt (by accident) and secondly, getting called a jogger by a fat woman with a dog.
Saturday Feb 25, 2012 #
10 AM
Running 1:17:00 17.0 km (4:32 / km)
As penance for missing the nationals I put myself through a set of Kenyan hills on the coppice track, which is one of the hardest sessions in my book. Really struggled to scrape together the willpower for this, but got into it once I had warmed up. 3x up and down with no recovery, the last downhill felt really hard and it was difficult to keep my form together. No times as my watch died at the start, maybe not such a bad thing? Will shoot for 4 next time...
4 PM
Running 1:05:00 [2] 12.0 km (5:25 / km)
Easy run into town and back and aRound the courses for the Shaff event picking burglar-proof control sites. Tired but felt marginally better for this, I think.
8 PM
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Friday Feb 24, 2012 #
12 PM
Cycling 1:15:00 [2]
Ride out to Moscar to give the legs a chance to recover. Windy all the way out which made it feel like hard work.
6 PM
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Thursday Feb 23, 2012 #
5 PM
Running 1:00:00 [2] 12.0 km (5:00 / km)
HFW via Coppice track and Rivelin, just about enough light to make it home. Still tired but really enjoyed the run - it struck me that I have no injuries at all for the first time I can remember, an unusual situation and one that I have no doubt jinxed by writing this. Still, it is nice while it lasts.
C • Haha 1
7 PM
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Wednesday Feb 22, 2012 #
Note
(rest day)
Took a much needed rest day to bank the training of the past few weeks. Feeling quite groggy and beaten up after racing and travelling, could be coming down with something, could be just tired, time will tell. Plan is a few easier days then into a phase of lower volume, higher quality ahead of the start of the fell season.
C • fell 2
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012 #
9 AM
Orienteering 1:14:30 [4] 13.0 km (5:44 / km)
spiked:26/29c
Gnarly chase start in rocky thorny stuff, really technical and tough. Ran steady and tried to go clean but pansied around in some of the thorny areas where I lost quite a bit of time. Felt rubbish this morning and considered not running, but glad I did.
Running 10:00 [2] 2.0 km (5:00 / km)
Forced myself to have a decent warm up, chilly morning.
2 PM
Running 25:00 [2] 4.0 km (6:15 / km)
Short warm down with Rob after some lunch.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Monday Feb 20, 2012 #
8 AM
Running 20:00 [2] 4.0 km (5:00 / km)
AM jog with Mr Baker. Got cornered by a pack of (three) wild dogs, but our trusty local mongrel launched himself to the rescue fangs first, only to get pounced on by one of the little yappy things. It was just like the scene in Jurassic Park when the velociraptors get attacked by the T Rex. Or similar, at least.
12 PM
Orienteering race 44:17 [5] 7.0 km (6:20 / km)
spiked:19/23c
WRE middle. Wow, that was hard. The difficult terrain exposed my weaknesses and I binned quite a bit of time on sloppiness. It was just too good not to get carried away and I did just that. I even enjoyed making the mistakes, mind you.
Running 45:00 [2] 8.0 km (5:38 / km)
Extended warm up and a long warm down jog around the area and a rocky hill, feeling spacey by the end.
4 PM
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Sunday Feb 19, 2012 #
10 AM
Orienteering race 39:44 [5] 6.0 km (6:37 / km)
spiked:16/19c
Middle distance, same terrain as yesterday but seemed bushier and tougher today. Made one big mistake and a load of smaller ones. Trying too hard, fatal.
Running 25:00 [2] 5.0 km (5:00 / km)
Decent warm up and warm down.
4 PM
Running 40:00 [2] 7.0 km (5:43 / km)
Evo jog with De la Baker. Up a hill on a road, found a nice viewpoint on a cross. Felt worryingly effortless, as if my body had lost the ability to notice its levels of fatigue.
Saturday Feb 18, 2012 #
8 AM
Running 20:00 [2] 4.0 km (5:00 / km)
Not very successful morning jog with Rob, from the house of love down into some terraced fields then up onto a main road.
12 PM
Orienteering race 1:17:30 [5] 14.0 km (5:32 / km)
spiked:24/27c
POM long distance. Tried to run at a cruisy pace but probably got a bit carried away. Really enjoyed the varied course and got into a bit of a tussle with Scotia at the end. Very enjoyable and pleasantly surprised by the result with plenty that could be improved upon.
Running 20:00 [2] 4.0 km (5:00 / km)
Warm up and warm down.
7 PM
Orienteering 18:30 [3] 5.0 km (3:42 / km)
spiked:19/20c
POM night sprint in Viseu. Not very up for this before the start and decided to cruise round. The course was amazing with a challenge on every leg and I really got into it, enjoyed it hugely. Could have done with something brighter to read the map by though.
Running 15:00 [2] 3.0 km (5:00 / km)
Not much w/u or down, a long tiring day.
Friday Feb 17, 2012 #
8 AM
Running 45:00 [2] 10.0 km (4:30 / km)
Morning jog through Fig da Foz with Rob, a section on the beach and back along the front. Tiredish.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
3 PM
Orienteering 40:00 [2] 6.0 km (6:40 / km)
spiked:9/11c
POM model map, which was bushy, horrible and not very good. Did a convoluted mini course then some jogging on the trails.
Thursday Feb 16, 2012 #
8 AM
Running 30:00 [2] 7.0 km (4:17 / km)
Out along the front at Fig da Foz with Rob. Very nice and feeling much perkier today.
Circuits 10:00 [3]
11 AM
Orienteering 40:00 [4] 8.0 km (5:00 / km)
spiked:21/24c
3xmini courses in the dunes at Bom Successo with Rob and Nails. Nice terrain, going pretty well for the most part.
Running 25:00 [2] 5.0 km (5:00 / km)
Warm up and warm down.
4 PM
Orienteering 19:00 [4] 3.0 km (6:20 / km)
spiked:7/8c
Tough mini loop in a bushy sand dune forest. It was all I could do to get around this.
Running 35:00 8.0 km (4:23 / km)
To the start and some tempo running on the trails in a big loop around the area.
Wednesday Feb 15, 2012 #
8 AM
Running 30:00 [2] 7.0 km (4:17 / km)
Morning run with Rob along the front at Fig da Foz, calves seem to be on the mend.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
11 AM
Orienteering 34:00 [3] 7.0 km (4:51 / km)
spiked:23/24c
Very nice fast area with good visibility. Ran at a decent pace and found everything pretty well, this was a good area to build a bit of confidence.
Running 20:00 [2] 4.0 km (5:00 / km)
4 PM
Orienteering 35:00 [5] 7.0 km (5:00 / km)
spiked:25/27c
5xintervals with Neil and Rob. Nice area but harder than it looked and made a few mistakes here and there, good to push the pace a bit harder.
Running 20:00 [2] 4.0 km (5:00 / km)
Tuesday Feb 14, 2012 #
5 PM
Orienteering 40:00 [2] 6.0 km (6:40 / km)
spiked:11/16c
Squeezed in a short session alternating legs with Rob as the sun set. Had to abil due to the failing light and find our way back to the car by instinct. Nice to get out after the journey, hard work on the soft sand.
Running 25:00 [2] 5.0 km (5:00 / km)
To the start and back to the finish, properly dark by the end, glad that we popped out in more-or-less the right place.
7 PM
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Monday Feb 13, 2012 #
8 AM
Running 45:00 [3] 9.0 km (5:00 / km)
IW via Bolehill Park, Crosspool. Sore calves, especially R.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
5 PM
Running 25:00 [2] 5.0 km (5:00 / km)
HFW, calves still very sore.
Running Drills 10:00 [3] 1.0 km (10:00 / km)
Sunday Feb 12, 2012 #
10 AM
Running 1:27:43 17.0 km (5:10 / km)
DPFR club race, Burbage nutless: Porter clough, ox stones, Houndkirk hill, Higger, pole, Rud Hil. Ran at tempo sort of pace and enjoyed the route in spite of the lack of coconuts, shame there wasn't anyone to race at the sharp end. Very icy in places, sore calves from all the hammering on hard surfaces.
Saturday Feb 11, 2012 #
11 AM
Running 2:15:00 19.0 km (7:06 / km)
Win Hill, Haggside, Fairholmes, Derwent Edge. Nice scenic and sociable run with Rob and Ben. Legs still complaining from Thurs, but this seemed to help. Spent an intimate few moments with Rob when he got his crotch caught on some barbed wire.
Friday Feb 10, 2012 #
4 PM
Running 50:00 [2] 10.0 km (5:00 / km)
Afternoon run up Loxley valley, tired legs from last night and not feeling very inspired. Annoyed to see that the field at Myers Grove has been dug up.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Thursday Feb 9, 2012 #
11 AM
Running 25:00 [2] 5.0 km (5:00 / km)
Hillborough Park via the stadium.
Running Drills 10:00 [3] 1.0 km (10:00 / km)
Set of strides, sprints, accelerates and drills.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
7 PM
Running 1:31:13 22.0 km (4:09 / km)
North Stands race from Tim's house. A salutary lesson in the benefit of good preparation, in that I did none and paid the price. Went for the same order I did when I ran this race last time, many many years ago with Middle: FC, Blades, Owls. Ran mostly with Rob and we took a few dodgy lines, especially around Eccy road and along Langsett Road. Miles down on Nails who nailed it. The weather could not have been grimmer with compacted ice on the pavements and freezing rain. Sort of fun, sort of not, but the chips and bitter shandy made up for it.
Wednesday Feb 8, 2012 #
8 AM
Running 25:00 [2] 5.0 km (5:00 / km)
IW, tired legs. Fun in the ice and snow.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
5 PM
Running 1:30:00 [2] 17.0 km (5:18 / km)
HFW with Rob bumping into Jenny on the way. Took in a hilly route on roads to avoid the ice. So much nicer to run with some company, just a shame I had to make do with Rob.
Tuesday Feb 7, 2012 #
10 AM
Running 1:11:00 15.0 km (4:44 / km)
Slippery intervals up Rivelin, 11x90/30 followed by an effort up the Coppice in 4.59, bit slower than last time but no surprises given the conditions. 10x20 sec hill bounds for desert. Should have worn dobs but didn't want to hammer my feet on the hard surface.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Monday Feb 6, 2012 #
5 PM
Running 25:00 [2] 5.0 km (5:00 / km)
(rest day)
HFW, tired, tired, tired. Rest day today and an easier few days.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Sunday Feb 5, 2012 #
11 AM
Running 2:05:00 [2] 23.0 km (5:26 / km)
Big Moor event was cancelled so had a nice sociable run with RB, NN, PH and a special guest appearance from MP out along White Edge and Birchin Edge, back via Froggatt and Longshaw. Tired today and the snow made it hard work in places. Good end to a tough week or so.
Saturday Feb 4, 2012 #
Event: Northern Night Champs
Note
Epilogue
Three months later and Ian was at Sheffield half marathon. He wasn’t on the start line, but he was at Devonshire Green, about two-thirds of the way around the route. He was applauding the front runners through and waiting for Kate, who he was expecting to pass by in a few minutes.
Ian had not run a step for three months, not since that mysterious night when he had left Phil and wound up back home, his legs stiff and his clothes muddied. It wasn’t that he couldn’t run for those three months. He knew that he could have done, had he felt the urge. There was nothing stopping him any longer, no physical or mental impediment to speak of. He simply hadn’t wanted to run. To begin with, things just kept cropping up. First there was the hangover, the like of which Ian had never experienced before. It wiped him out for the entire weekend and left him feeling drained and empty, like a car with a flat battery. Then he had a busy week at work, meeting clients after hours and organising important presentations. Next he had gone away on a course for a few days and forgot to take his running shoes. But after that, he stopped needing to look for excuses. He just didn’t go running; it was as simple as that. It had been quite exhilarating at first. Every evening Kate would arrive home late, hot and sweaty after another run to find Ian in the kitchen preparing a nutritious tea, rich in carbs, perfect for her training regime. At weekends he did some of the things he had always wanted to do but never had the time or energy; fix up the garden fence, redecorate the attic, sit and have a go at the crossword. For a while he had been quite content.
But today, as he watched runner after runner pass him by, each of them pushing themselves as hard as they could; some grimacing, some grinning; some chasing, some being chased; some pushing on, some capitulating, Ian experienced a familiar itch. A familiar, nagging sensation that he knew from long experience could not be scratched.
‘Go on Kate!’ Ian had been miles away. Fortunately he was not the only member of her fan club out on the route and others were being more attentive. He caught her eye and thrust a bottle into her hand as she skipped past. She was ahead of schedule and looking good. Watching his wife stride out, feet springing off the tarmac, squeezing every little bit of power out of her body, Ian felt a sense of visceral excitement, as though he himself was a part of the race. She had been nervous before the start and Ian had shared her nerves. Now she was hurting and Ian shared her pain. In a few minutes she would be filled with release and elation and Ian would share that too. These were the sensations that he had been missing.
On Monday morning at 7am, Ian promised himself, I will run again.
The End.
Three months later and Ian was at Sheffield half marathon. He wasn’t on the start line, but he was at Devonshire Green, about two-thirds of the way around the route. He was applauding the front runners through and waiting for Kate, who he was expecting to pass by in a few minutes.
Ian had not run a step for three months, not since that mysterious night when he had left Phil and wound up back home, his legs stiff and his clothes muddied. It wasn’t that he couldn’t run for those three months. He knew that he could have done, had he felt the urge. There was nothing stopping him any longer, no physical or mental impediment to speak of. He simply hadn’t wanted to run. To begin with, things just kept cropping up. First there was the hangover, the like of which Ian had never experienced before. It wiped him out for the entire weekend and left him feeling drained and empty, like a car with a flat battery. Then he had a busy week at work, meeting clients after hours and organising important presentations. Next he had gone away on a course for a few days and forgot to take his running shoes. But after that, he stopped needing to look for excuses. He just didn’t go running; it was as simple as that. It had been quite exhilarating at first. Every evening Kate would arrive home late, hot and sweaty after another run to find Ian in the kitchen preparing a nutritious tea, rich in carbs, perfect for her training regime. At weekends he did some of the things he had always wanted to do but never had the time or energy; fix up the garden fence, redecorate the attic, sit and have a go at the crossword. For a while he had been quite content.
But today, as he watched runner after runner pass him by, each of them pushing themselves as hard as they could; some grimacing, some grinning; some chasing, some being chased; some pushing on, some capitulating, Ian experienced a familiar itch. A familiar, nagging sensation that he knew from long experience could not be scratched.
‘Go on Kate!’ Ian had been miles away. Fortunately he was not the only member of her fan club out on the route and others were being more attentive. He caught her eye and thrust a bottle into her hand as she skipped past. She was ahead of schedule and looking good. Watching his wife stride out, feet springing off the tarmac, squeezing every little bit of power out of her body, Ian felt a sense of visceral excitement, as though he himself was a part of the race. She had been nervous before the start and Ian had shared her nerves. Now she was hurting and Ian shared her pain. In a few minutes she would be filled with release and elation and Ian would share that too. These were the sensations that he had been missing.
On Monday morning at 7am, Ian promised himself, I will run again.
The End.
8 AM
Running 1:07:00 15.0 km (4:28 / km)
Hallam Parkrun on a cold morning. I was glad to have arranged to meet Rob to run down there as I could easily have changed my mind. Not very up for this, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't trying as hard as I could. A not very sparkly performance, but this is the most sustained effort I have put in since October, so not too surprising. Followed by a nice brekkie at Jonty's. Good start to a tough weekend...
6 PM
Orienteering race 45:00 [5] 7.0 km (6:26 / km)
Northern Night champs, Canklow. Had a nice run around in the falling snow and really enjoyed the course, just a few small mistakes and an altercation with a tree, which Pete Tryner had a good laugh at.
Running 35:00 [2] 7.0 km (5:00 / km)
Warm up and down on the way to and from the start and a bit of extra running about.
Friday Feb 3, 2012 #
Note
34
On Saturday Ian awoke late with a substantial headache, as though a minor black hole had opened up in a space just behind his eyes, devouring all of his half-formed thoughts and memories of the night before and exerting a massive gravitational pull on the inside of his skull. He fought against its powerful inertia and tried to reconstruct the last twelve hours. He was alone in bed; that much was clear. Kate had no doubt gone out for her morning training run, although Ian had no recollection of her leaving. He must have been out cold. He could remember ending up alone in the pub with Phil, who was putting them away purposefully. He supposed he must have tried to keep up with his friend, which was always a bad idea when it came to drinking. But of leaving the pub or making his way home he had no recollection.
Ian’s legs hurt, he registered with some difficulty. They were stiff and sore from his calves all the way up to his gluts. That was mysterious and didn’t seem to fit in with his previous experience of bad hangovers. And he smelt bad; of dried sweat. He was doubtful that the two of them would have gone clubbing at their age, but you never knew. With some difficulty he swung his legs over the side of the bed and noticed his clothes lying in a heap on the floor. His jeans were caked with mud up to the knees. The clubbing theory was looking less likely, although in his student days he had often come home with pretty dirty shoes after a night out in a local club.
By the time the phone rang at eleven, Ian had made it downstairs to the kitchen and was making coffee.
'Ian, how are you doing? Better than me I hope?' Ian took some comfort in the fact that Phil was also suffering.
'I just wanted to make sure you made it home alright. I tried to get you into a taxi at about 2 but you weren't having any of it and you weren't looking so steady on your feet after those tequilas.' Tequilas. It was worse than he thought. Ian thanked his friend for his concern and together they pieced together the latter stages of the evening, which had concluded at a late bar on West Street, the sort of place that Ian usually avoided at all costs. That explained his still-ringing ears and hoarse voice. But of what happened next, Phil could offer no explanation.
Neither could Kate when she arrived home from her morning training session. She had been unimpressed to be woken at 3 in the morning by her muddy, unsteady husband, who burst into the bedroom panting and sweating before collapsing into deep and breathy alcohol-induced slumber. She had retreated to the spare room to get some peace and quiet before an early start. He placated her with fresh coffee and a bacon buttie and told her about his mysterious lost hour. In spite of his hangover Ian was feeling better than he had done for some time.
On Saturday Ian awoke late with a substantial headache, as though a minor black hole had opened up in a space just behind his eyes, devouring all of his half-formed thoughts and memories of the night before and exerting a massive gravitational pull on the inside of his skull. He fought against its powerful inertia and tried to reconstruct the last twelve hours. He was alone in bed; that much was clear. Kate had no doubt gone out for her morning training run, although Ian had no recollection of her leaving. He must have been out cold. He could remember ending up alone in the pub with Phil, who was putting them away purposefully. He supposed he must have tried to keep up with his friend, which was always a bad idea when it came to drinking. But of leaving the pub or making his way home he had no recollection.
Ian’s legs hurt, he registered with some difficulty. They were stiff and sore from his calves all the way up to his gluts. That was mysterious and didn’t seem to fit in with his previous experience of bad hangovers. And he smelt bad; of dried sweat. He was doubtful that the two of them would have gone clubbing at their age, but you never knew. With some difficulty he swung his legs over the side of the bed and noticed his clothes lying in a heap on the floor. His jeans were caked with mud up to the knees. The clubbing theory was looking less likely, although in his student days he had often come home with pretty dirty shoes after a night out in a local club.
By the time the phone rang at eleven, Ian had made it downstairs to the kitchen and was making coffee.
'Ian, how are you doing? Better than me I hope?' Ian took some comfort in the fact that Phil was also suffering.
'I just wanted to make sure you made it home alright. I tried to get you into a taxi at about 2 but you weren't having any of it and you weren't looking so steady on your feet after those tequilas.' Tequilas. It was worse than he thought. Ian thanked his friend for his concern and together they pieced together the latter stages of the evening, which had concluded at a late bar on West Street, the sort of place that Ian usually avoided at all costs. That explained his still-ringing ears and hoarse voice. But of what happened next, Phil could offer no explanation.
Neither could Kate when she arrived home from her morning training session. She had been unimpressed to be woken at 3 in the morning by her muddy, unsteady husband, who burst into the bedroom panting and sweating before collapsing into deep and breathy alcohol-induced slumber. She had retreated to the spare room to get some peace and quiet before an early start. He placated her with fresh coffee and a bacon buttie and told her about his mysterious lost hour. In spite of his hangover Ian was feeling better than he had done for some time.
10 AM
Cycling 1:35:00
Ride out to Strines and back, great day for it with clear views of the snowy hills, cold but not a breath of wind. Really enjoyed this and good to take the strain off my foot.
5 PM
Circuits 10:00 [1]
Thursday Feb 2, 2012 #
Note
33
Three hours later and the group had dwindled to a dedicated few. Kate and a couple of her friends had left early ahead of a half-marathon session the following morning. Ian had reached a state of comfortable inebriation which put him into a quiet and contemplative mood, while Phil was becoming ever more raucous and exuberant, his tales of athletic finesse having become taller and more slurred by the pint.
'...And what about th Skyline a coupl f years back?' Ian knew where this one was going. 'Tha ws a race to remembr. A battle! It ws a foul day, jus flthy...'
Ian could remember it well, it was back when he was at his fittest.
'...I ws a hard pace you set at th front ther, Yan...'
Ian could well recall the sensation of bounding positively out of the start up the lower slopes of Kinder.
'...I ws angin on for dear life, I ws jus wonderin wen you were goin to drop off...'
That was a race Ian had trained seriously for. Three months or more of hard graft.
'...Bt you jst kept at it. Ammerin away all way long to Win Ill...'
He had made some sacrifices for that one, missed a few nights out, asked a lot of Kate.
'...I ad to jus nuckle down an run in your footsteps. Ope I ad it in me to tuck in there...'
He had pushed himself to his limits, left no stone unturned in his training.
'...You ad a lead by Mam Nick an I ws done in...'
He had told himself that it was all worth it. That it was an important goal, something noble and extraordinary.
'...Th wind an rain wer lashin us. An th clag was down. I lost site f you comin onto Brown Knoll...'
Ian saw now as he stared into his peat-brown pint that there had been nothing noble about it, nothing pure.
'...I jst kept goin, stumblin along. No sign of any folk behind, no sign of Yan...'
It had been pure vanity that motivated him. The desire to prove that he was better than others, better than Phil.
'...I got to th last checkpoint on Grindslow an they says Im th frst to come thu. “Wha?” I say, “wha bout Yan?”...'
All that energy devoted to chasing small, personal glories. Achievements so insignificant they were only important to himself.
'“No”, they says, “yr the frst!”...So I dont now whats appened but I jst go for it down an up to Ringing Roger...'
But at the same time...
'...I pelted it down tha ill. I nearly stacked it mor n once...'
At the same time...
'...I made it into th finish an won th race, bu my frst thought ws, “whers Yan? Whats append to im?”...'
There was something else. Something that was more important than results, pbs, split times, medals.
'...E'd only gon astray adnt ee! Turnd a full 180 on th way to Jabob's Ladder an found imself back on Brown Knoll!...'
Something glorious in the stories, the mishaps, the adventures, the suffering.
'...Ee came in bout alf hour later after frst woman! Good effrt to finish, like, aftr that...'
Something that took him beyond himself and transported to another place.
'...Bt sriously. Yan ws the best runner in th race. Ee shud v won it...'
Every time he ran he was doing something extraordinary. Something that brought him closer to real life.
'...If it wsnt for im Id be a lazy bastrd nyway!'
Ian chinked his glass with Phil and grinned. For the first time in several weeks he felt himself relax.
Three hours later and the group had dwindled to a dedicated few. Kate and a couple of her friends had left early ahead of a half-marathon session the following morning. Ian had reached a state of comfortable inebriation which put him into a quiet and contemplative mood, while Phil was becoming ever more raucous and exuberant, his tales of athletic finesse having become taller and more slurred by the pint.
'...And what about th Skyline a coupl f years back?' Ian knew where this one was going. 'Tha ws a race to remembr. A battle! It ws a foul day, jus flthy...'
Ian could remember it well, it was back when he was at his fittest.
'...I ws a hard pace you set at th front ther, Yan...'
Ian could well recall the sensation of bounding positively out of the start up the lower slopes of Kinder.
'...I ws angin on for dear life, I ws jus wonderin wen you were goin to drop off...'
That was a race Ian had trained seriously for. Three months or more of hard graft.
'...Bt you jst kept at it. Ammerin away all way long to Win Ill...'
He had made some sacrifices for that one, missed a few nights out, asked a lot of Kate.
'...I ad to jus nuckle down an run in your footsteps. Ope I ad it in me to tuck in there...'
He had pushed himself to his limits, left no stone unturned in his training.
'...You ad a lead by Mam Nick an I ws done in...'
He had told himself that it was all worth it. That it was an important goal, something noble and extraordinary.
'...Th wind an rain wer lashin us. An th clag was down. I lost site f you comin onto Brown Knoll...'
Ian saw now as he stared into his peat-brown pint that there had been nothing noble about it, nothing pure.
'...I jst kept goin, stumblin along. No sign of any folk behind, no sign of Yan...'
It had been pure vanity that motivated him. The desire to prove that he was better than others, better than Phil.
'...I got to th last checkpoint on Grindslow an they says Im th frst to come thu. “Wha?” I say, “wha bout Yan?”...'
All that energy devoted to chasing small, personal glories. Achievements so insignificant they were only important to himself.
'“No”, they says, “yr the frst!”...So I dont now whats appened but I jst go for it down an up to Ringing Roger...'
But at the same time...
'...I pelted it down tha ill. I nearly stacked it mor n once...'
At the same time...
'...I made it into th finish an won th race, bu my frst thought ws, “whers Yan? Whats append to im?”...'
There was something else. Something that was more important than results, pbs, split times, medals.
'...E'd only gon astray adnt ee! Turnd a full 180 on th way to Jabob's Ladder an found imself back on Brown Knoll!...'
Something glorious in the stories, the mishaps, the adventures, the suffering.
'...Ee came in bout alf hour later after frst woman! Good effrt to finish, like, aftr that...'
Something that took him beyond himself and transported to another place.
'...Bt sriously. Yan ws the best runner in th race. Ee shud v won it...'
Every time he ran he was doing something extraordinary. Something that brought him closer to real life.
'...If it wsnt for im Id be a lazy bastrd nyway!'
Ian chinked his glass with Phil and grinned. For the first time in several weeks he felt himself relax.
8 AM
Running 29:00 [2] 6.0 km (4:50 / km)
IW via Bolehill Park to get a nice view on a cold clear morning. Feeling a bit perkier today.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
5 PM
Running 1:15:00 15.0 km (5:00 / km)
Hallamshire session, back to Hillsborough Park, which I was not too thrilled about. Ran a very similar session to Tuesday, 800, 1200 x3 off 1.30. 2.34, 3.54, 2.36, 3.56, 2.37, 3.59. Much faster in a group but struggled to sustain the pace, very cold air on the lungs tonight.
Foot feels a bit niggly after all this running - might get on the bike tomo.
Foot feels a bit niggly after all this running - might get on the bike tomo.
Wednesday Feb 1, 2012 #
Note
32
Forty-five minutes later Ian and Kate were on their way to the pub to meet Phil, not a prospect that Ian would normally relish. It wasn't that Ian disliked Phil. On the contrary, they were the closest of friends and confidantes, but conversation between the pair was at its most lucid and uninhibited when running. As long as the turnover of their legs and the pounding of their feet were synchronised with one another, the cadence of their thoughts and opinions fell into corresponding rhythm. At 7 minute pace they revealed their deepest, most closely-guarded secrets without fear of judgement. After countless hours and miles together there was little they had not discussed. But back in the real world it was a different story. The two were still friends, but they were separated by an unvoiced competitiveness that loomed between them.
That Phil was a somewhat better runner than Ian did not help. Sure, Ian could beat Phil and sometimes did, but these occasions were the exception rather than the rule. By default Phil was the superior athlete: he trained less, cared less and won more. He was a natural, while Ian was a hard worker. Ian envied Phil's talent; Phil envied Ian's dedication. It was not an easy basis for a friendship.
Ian and Kate arrived to find not only Phil, but a small group of their closest friends from the local athletics club squeezed around a too-small round table in the corner laden with pints of various shades. They welcomed Ian with raised glasses, while Phil, who looked to be at least a couple of drinks into what promised to be a long evening, shoved a fresh pint straight into his hand. Kate flashed her husband a knowing smile and settled down with a few of her training partners.
'We wanted you to know that we're here for you, mate.' Phil confided to him. 'Now drink up, you've got some catching up to do.'
Forty-five minutes later Ian and Kate were on their way to the pub to meet Phil, not a prospect that Ian would normally relish. It wasn't that Ian disliked Phil. On the contrary, they were the closest of friends and confidantes, but conversation between the pair was at its most lucid and uninhibited when running. As long as the turnover of their legs and the pounding of their feet were synchronised with one another, the cadence of their thoughts and opinions fell into corresponding rhythm. At 7 minute pace they revealed their deepest, most closely-guarded secrets without fear of judgement. After countless hours and miles together there was little they had not discussed. But back in the real world it was a different story. The two were still friends, but they were separated by an unvoiced competitiveness that loomed between them.
That Phil was a somewhat better runner than Ian did not help. Sure, Ian could beat Phil and sometimes did, but these occasions were the exception rather than the rule. By default Phil was the superior athlete: he trained less, cared less and won more. He was a natural, while Ian was a hard worker. Ian envied Phil's talent; Phil envied Ian's dedication. It was not an easy basis for a friendship.
Ian and Kate arrived to find not only Phil, but a small group of their closest friends from the local athletics club squeezed around a too-small round table in the corner laden with pints of various shades. They welcomed Ian with raised glasses, while Phil, who looked to be at least a couple of drinks into what promised to be a long evening, shoved a fresh pint straight into his hand. Kate flashed her husband a knowing smile and settled down with a few of her training partners.
'We wanted you to know that we're here for you, mate.' Phil confided to him. 'Now drink up, you've got some catching up to do.'
8 AM
Running 30:00 [2] 6.0 km (5:00 / km)
IW, feeling pretty drained this morning. Some cold air and an easy shake out sorted me out to some extent.
Circuits 10:00 [1]
5 PM
Running 1:28:00 [2] 19.0 km (4:38 / km)
Just set my legs to autopilot and went along for the ride. Up Porter Brook and back over Lodge Moor, where I came to my senses realised it was still miles to get back home. Break on through to the other side. Yeah.