Clear Skies, Full Sinuses, New(ish) Shoes

Previously - steadily getting in the miles, and pulling forward my Sunday long run to a Friday.

Friday long run

No Thursday run, as I had a long one on Friday. I jumped on a westbound train all the way to Littlehampton, with the plan of running back home along the coast to Hove. The previous Sunday a fellow local runner (hi Mark!) had done a similar thing and so I decided to straight up copy his route. I knew I wouldn't get anywhere near his time but just wanted to get the distance of 32km/20 miles under my belt ahead of the marathon. After getting only slightly lost around Littlehampton I found a suitable place to start on the banks of the Arun and set off, podcasts in ears. Very quickly I realised that the grey skies were only threatening to rain and wouldn't follow through, so off came my running jacket to cool myself down a bit! 

Apart from a small diversion around Angmering the majority of the route to Worthing was along a coastal path so I had a breeze off the sea to keep me cool. The posher estates in that part of the world had a decent lawn between the properties and the beach which was a nice change to run along, and made a nice difference from tarmacked paths! Eight kilometres under my belt and I suddenly realised I was on familiar territory, as I'd reached the western end of Worthing half marathon - a race I ran two years previously. I followed that route for a few km, the houses providing a change of scenery as well as a mental boost from being able to run along a route I'd previously only lightly jogged. That lasted for all of fifteen minutes before I started getting warmer than I was happy with, so I went back along the beachfront path into Worthing itself. This was a smoother path than the pavement as well - I didn't want to be concentrating on my footing while I was dealing with eating jelly babies!

Down the route of Worthing parkrun, and I bumped my distance up a bit by running to the end of Worthing pier and back up, past several bemused people enjoying cake in the end of pier cafe. The bleak stretch from Worthing to Lancing beckoned, coinciding with the realisation that I was only halfway through my run. These runs aren't just about physical training, it's also about getting your head used to the fact that you'll be exercising for a solid four, five, six hours in one hit. Running on your own does get lonely, which is why I always make sure to have music (if I'm running for a time) or podcasts (distance) to listen to and keep myself occupied. I've also cut off one earbud so while I can listen to my distraction, I'm not completely cut off from the world and can still hear things going on around me for safety. Past Lancing beach green cafe and I was onto very familiar territory, heading out along the course of Lancing parkrun. I paid very close attention to my watch at the point it failed last time but it behaved this time. 

By this point my bladder was grumbling so 19km into my run I stopped at some convenient, um, conveniences. I was only in there for a minute or so, practising a speedy relief ahead of the marathon, but it was enough for my iliotibial band to decide that we were finished, and when I tried to run again it straight up refused. A walk into a gentle jog to a run got it moving again, under protest, and I slogged onward. The route from here was more or less the same as my watch-crashing run, only in reverse and without running out to Shoreham harbour arm, and I carried on round Shoreham fort. Running back towards the bridge over the Adur my knee protested too much and at 24km (15 miles) I finished, completing only 75% of my plan. I stomped into Shoreham, a soggy smelly mess, and had a grumpy pint in a Shepherd Neame pub for consolation/recovery purposes. While I took more time off my half marathon PB (it's now just over 2 hours 18 minutes) I was disappointed that I couldn't go much further.

Midweek runs

Social commitments and a recognised need for rest meant that my next run wasn't until Wednesday. My training plan recommended a 10k run at a slower pace, so I did just that - or tried anyway! I picked a route heading east into Brighton, which also covered a bit of the marathon route. Within the first km I passed a Google Street View car - it hasn't been uploaded yet, but the footage will be good for analysing my running form, and it'll probably end up in my ongoing flattering running pictures thread on Twitter. My pacing for this run was all over the shop, fluctuating between 6 and 7 minutes per km, not aided by the first half of the route taking in a large number of the hills in Brighton. After taking in one of the two uphill sections of the marathon route that might require crampons and pitons to ascend, the rest was a gentle downhill amble towards the seafront, and then a run along the promenade to complete the 10k without issue. I only had three of the ten km within 10 seconds of the target pace of 7 minutes/km, and the average pace was 15 seconds below that - not good for a disciplined marathon start.

Like Kate Bush, I'll be running up that hill

The following day I had another run planned, a shorter (6.5km) and faster (6:15min/km) route. This time I went west of home, to Portslade, covering more of the marathon route. This was much more successful pacing wise as only one full km was outside a +/-10 second variance from the target pace, and that was only out by 12 seconds. The part of the route I covered, along Church Road, was mainly a refresher as I used to walk that route regularly when I worked in Portslade. A much better run, and a nice ego boost passing a pair of pedestrians twice in the run - I worked out later that I'd run 5k in the time it had taken them to walk 1.5k! Granted, I had a schedule and I've no way of knowing if they stopped off or were just ambling, but it was still a lift to see.

A Saturday parkrun to Lancing, a nice catch up with some regulars there, and what I thought was a dreadful run actually turned out to be pretty decent! After a very sluggish start my pace picked up, and every km was faster than the one before. I finished in just over 29 minutes, with my only issue being my watch losing 30 seconds (Strava says I finished in 28:35), so take the above splits with a pinch of salt. Still, I'm now only seven parkruns away from hitting 100! That evening I felt a cold coming on, but at the time (and even now) the symptoms are above the neck, so I proceeded with my Sunday long run as planned.

Sunday Long Run

I got up bright and early, and it was very bright - not a cloud in the sky! I headed out east, across Brighton, but with gentler slopes to contend with this time, as I had another 32km/20 miler in mind. I only touched upon the marathon route once, bisecting it at Preston Circus, as this was about the distance rather than recon. The sun beat down as I plodded along the the Lewes Road out of Brighton, past Moulscoomb station, and once again my bladder was protesting. One thing to remember on marathon day - go to the toilet more! At 7km I spotted some public conveniences (I'm indebted to Brighton & Hove, Adur Valley and Arun Valley councils) and stopped with some trepidation. Would I be able to continue, or will I have a grumpy bus journey back home already after my leg seizes up?

After washing my hands I left and gingerly got back up to speed. No protests from either leg, so I carried on with my route. While my leg hadn't had an issue, my watch had, as I'd suddenly gained some extra mileage while relieving myself. I made sure to stretch my drinks out a bit more (I think 500ml every 10k seems to suit me fine) and I pressed on up to the highest part of my route, at Falmer. With the sun laying down I struggled and came close to giving up until I crested the hill and the run became a lot easier - funnily enough the thoughts of giving up disappeared after that! I ran alongside the A27 to Lewes, slightly aggrieved that I was running in perfect motorbike weather, whereas two days previously I'd ridden my motorbike along the same route in perfect running weather (overcast, breeze, cool)! Into Lewes itself and I followed the road, fairly confident that it would lead me to the centre of town. Running along narrow medieval streets was a pleasant change and as I neared the castle I found myself idly wondering what time it was. Well, I had no need to pull my phone out of my pocket and check as the church bells started to bong the hour at 10am right as I went past, giving me a fright! 

Through Lewes and out along the old railway line (oh look, there's a theme with my runs becoming apparent) with only a slight detour around the local tip being the extent of my getting lost for this run. Under the Lewes bypass and suddenly the land opened up ahead of me - the rest of the run would be alongside the river Ouse, in the valley cutting through the chalk ridges of the South Downs. Flat, clear, the only issue was the muddy paths as I had to slow down and concentrate on my footing! By now my pace was over 7 mins/km as I tired and had to contend with rough terrain for the next 5 km until I found a gravel path to run along. I crossed the river and headed up to the level crossing by Southease station but in the act of slowing for the gates, my leg decided enough was enough and seized on me again. I considered working it loose and pressing on another 5k to Newhaven, finishing on around 30k total, but decided that I didn't want to risk further injury this close to the marathon. Instead I grabbed a slice of cake and a beer from the YHA cafe at Southease and waited for the train back to Brighton.

What have I learnt?

• My watch is on the way out and should probably be replaced sooner rather than later
• I need to find a suitable stretching routine if I stop more than 20km into a run
• I'm pretty confident with my refuelling on the go, both food and drinks
• Brighton is very hilly

Half of my hearty run

Where did I leave off? Oh yes, a long run unrecorded due to my app dying. Well, one upside of that was that in playing about with the Android Wear Strava app afterwards, desperately trying to recover my run somehow, I discovered that one can swipe upwards to finish a run recording - quite handy, considering that for the last few months I'd been restarting the watch in order to stop the run and sync it with my phone! 

A few days later, undeterred by the technological issues of the previous run, I went out on a harder course for a midweek run. No flat coastal routes this time, instead I was running up the chalk hills that border Brighton and Hove to the north of the city, roughly following the route of the old railway line. The route from Aldrington station to the bridge over the A27 was a familiar one from past Sunday runs, so this time I started with a bit of a lap of Hove Park to bring up my finish line to the top of Devil's Dyke. I continued up through the housing estate knowing more or less where I was going...roughly...wait, none of this looks remotely familiar. Heading on a general north-westerly direction I finally found the bridge across the A27 and got back on route. I had a pleasant jog up the old line, sadly not seeing much of anything to indicate the route's prior purpose, until I got to 6k. I realised that my original plan of finishing my route at the top of this ruddy great hill would mean that I'd then have another 8k to walk back home again. Apart from the photo opportunity, which was pretty much ruined by the grey weather anyway, there was no real point to continuing on to the top of the hill and so I returned back to Brighton. 

On the way down the hill I decided to extend my distance for the day. Running downhill was easier than the way up (thanks, gravity!) and I'd have to go the distance back home anyway so I may as well run it and get home quicker. The fickle finger of technology got in my way once again though - as I reached the original total of 8k my podcast started sounding distorted and low bitrate-y. Troubleshooting options like another episode (changing the file), playing a song through Spotify (changing the app) and a good old restart of the phone didn't fix the problem, so I had the last few kilometres without any distraction. 

Still, at least I lowered the tone of Waitrose by walking round shopping directly after finishing my run. Another week spent easing myself back into the runs - I replaced my headphones and took them for a spin at Lancing parkrun on Saturday. The headwind again created a positive split and was a real struggle running back but I kept the time under 30 minutes, with Spotify's shuffle throwing up a mix of NWOBHM bands (Saxon, Judas Priest, Rainbow) rather than the usual pop/Springsteen. A gentle run, but a good trial for my new headphones, and my new shoes - I felt that my current pair would probably be on their last legs by the time I get to the marathon, and this way I can get used to a newer pair with a month or so to go.

The following day was five weeks from M-day, which is an abbreviation I'll probably never use again. A clear, cool day, I decided to take advantage of the weather conditions and go for a longer run. If I could run 16k during a storm, I can run further on a nicer day with just a few gusts of wind, right? I'd read about a coastal route along the base of the cliffs from Brighton Marina to Saltdean in Alexandra Hemsley's Running Like A Girl the previous week so thought I'd head out that way and run back along the cliff tops, covering another bit of the marathon route. Apart from a few puddles (my new shoes no longer look new) and a mix-up involving heading up the steps at Ovingdean instead of further along - I really need to plan my routes better, or at least consult Google Maps while running - the outbound stretch was a breeze, and I headed back up to the top of the cliffs by Saltdean's gorgeous art deco Lido. Fun, this! 

The way back, less so. Up and down undulating cliffs, the slog of running into the wind up steep hills was not quite as daunting as cresting the hill and realising that, oh no, the wind is much worse when it's not blocked. At one point I came to a complete halt because the wind was so strong. I'd finished one bottle of lucozade and remembering what happened last week, refuelled with a small bag of jelly babies that seemed to be never-ending. Over the course of 3km I must've had the last sweet a dozen times, yet there always seemed to be just one more in the bag. Still, they perked me up on the run and I'll grab a few packets for M-day (there it is again!). The slight downhill gradient from above the marina down to the pier was a bit more gentle, but still windy. Good resistance training at least! Knowing it (hopefully) won't be as windy when I do the marathon was a small crumb of comfort.

By now it was around 10:30am and the promenades were filled with people out for a morning stroll. The grim, sympathetic smiles from fellow runners were replaced by odd looks from people who don't know the meaning of a long slow Sunday morning run (normal, sensible folk then) and I decided to cut short my run from the original planned 29k distance. Instead a quick Google threw up a new target of 21.09km - the distance of a half marathon. I had a time in mind as I'd reached halfway of the marathon at 2 hours 33 minutes last year (and the second half of that taking over 3 and a half hours shows you just how unprepared I was for it!) and I wanted to beat that. I pushed and pushed against a wind that seemed to toy with me, envious of the people flying past using the conditions to their advantage, and by the time I turned up The Drive away from the wind I was too worn out to speed up. I plodded along a bit further, eagle eyes on my watch, and stopped at the half marathon distance to a new personal best HM time of 2 hours, 22 minutes and 53 seconds. The good thing is, knowing the conditions I battled against, on a flat course I can easily beat that again - but that's for another day. The (actual) non-alcoholic beer was a great relief afterwards!

Two days later, and I was ready to run again. Not up to 100%, but if I were a player on Football Manager, I wouldn't have a red or orange "inj" symbol next to my name, fit enough to cope with another run. Where to this time? Well, from my flat there's a tower with a black pointed roof roughly west-north-west. I'd always assumed that this was the clock tower on top of the Tesco Extra out Shoreham way until I spotted it from my run up Devil's Dyke last week, and realised it was significantly closer than that. A few minutes on Google Maps produced an answer and now I had somewhere to run to! Starting with a route through Hove Park I paid attention to my route this time and significantly, didn't get lost. West through Hangleton, through a park north of the big Sainsbury that I had no idea existed until yesterday, and up through Portslade village itself. I knew that an out-and-back to the tower would leave me short by 2k, so I passed the tower at 4.5k and kept on going, over the A27 and along a muddy farm track for an extra kilometre. Somewhere back up the track my GPS suddenly leapt up to over 7k run, throwing out my pace for the day and completely throwing me off. I soldiered on back down the route I'd run, knowing that when I reached Foredown Tower on the way back I'd have a further 4.5k left to run. Fortunately for me my watch showed 8k as I passed the landmark - I'm good at mental arithmetic, but not while I'm exercising my body as well as my brain! A few rough calculations and I worked out not only the distance left but also the time markers I'd need every 500m as well, enabling me to stick to my pace. A finish around the top portion of Hove Park left me with some space to warm down as well.

A social commitment this Sunday has meant that I won't be able to fit in a long run, and rather than push it to the day after (and be knackered for a trip to the theatre that evening) I've pulled it forward and will fit it in on Friday morning. This juggling of my training has pulled forward a few other runs, and today I did tomorrow's run of "only" 5k, a distance I was a little disappointed to see yesterday, but glad it wasn't that far when I did the run today! It was timed for completion in 30 minutes, an easy feat considering my parkrun times lately, but on a hillier course than usual as I completed a few laps of Hove park. I got off to a slow, sluggish start, completing the first km in 6:15, and so I had a deficit to make up the rest of the run. I managed it, finishing in 29:53, but I was grateful of the shorter distance today! 

New shoes!

Looking less new after a half marathon

Headwind and the Angry Knee

(Yes, I am resuming this blog partly because I thought of a decent - your mileage may vary - pun for the title.)

So, what's gone on in the *counts on fingers* five months since I last updated this blog? Have a potted history in the style of your favourite recapping narrator (be they Kristen Bell, an undercover Russian, a smooth Latin lover, a dry English librarian, or Kristen Bell):

- Christmas Eve I started my marathon training plan, gradually increasing the distances and speeds of my weekly runs
- My Brighton Marathon shirt from last year racked up more and more PBs, not just course PBs set on each course's inaugural run (thus guaranteeing a new PB) but on occasions when the conditions just felt right, giving me that extra boost to ensure a new record. 
- One of those was smashing my 10k personal best by five minutes on a Sunday morning in late January, finally getting the sub 60 minute 10k time that was my New Year's resolution. For 2017.
- My total distance run for 2018 was a touch over 320km, not only hitting the stretch goal put down in October, but going a little bit further to make up the 20km I was short in 2017.
- I joined the 21st century and upgraded from the dodgy Runtastic app to Strava. 
- I saw a physio for the first time!

When I've been running over the winter months, the outer part of my left knee would occasionally give me feedback, along the lines of "stop running, this hurts". This eased off as I strengthened it, and my rule of thumb became "if the temperature is in single digits, wear leggings" which averted the problem. Sitting still for long periods would occasionally cause it to flare up, so picking specific cinema seats and being able to stretch out sorted this.

Until my marathon plan kicked in, and I suddenly started running more than just a parkrun and an hour's slow run every Saturday and Sunday. A month into my training and a Saturday walk around town post-parkrun became so painful I had to stop and rest every few hundred metres. I bit the bullet and went to a local physio (a stone's throw from my flat - literally, I can stand on my balcony and lob a pebble through their window with minimal effort if I were so inclined!) and it turns out I'd strained my iliotibial band (which runs down the outside of your leg from hip to knee). Three weeks of rest, three weeks out of my marathon training plan, three weeks kicking my heels, three weeks of getting acquainted with my foam roller. 

(Side note: I hate the foam roller and it hates me, but it's incredibly useful. When I'm in the US for the week before the marathon I'll be purchasing a cheap one from Target to keep myself bendy!)

A couple of test runs around Hove Park to make sure my legs were working, and I got back in the game in early March - which just so happened to be the inaugural Seaford parkrun. Again I gamed the stats for my Marathon shirt, jumped on a speedy, comfortable and frequent train along the coast, and ran an out-and-back course by the sea! Very close to the sea, at one point there was less than a metre between the prom and the waves. After some initial complaints from my knee it shushed itself and I flew along the route, making great time. Maybe the enforced rest and exercises did me the world of good? I turned round at the end of the course to head back and faced into a gust of wind. Ah. Looks like the outbound section had some aid! The run back was somewhat trickier, however I managed to keep up a consistent pace throughout despite the conditions, and finish under the 30 minute mark. 

(This is longer than I expected it to be, but the second half ties into the headline, and I'll be damned if I'm losing the wordplay.)

The confidence from my leg not falling off and a run in tricky conditions fired me up, and I went out the following morning for a Sunday long run. I set it in stages - if the walk to the coast to start was fine on my leg, I'd run west with the option of stopping at a railway station and jumping on the next train back. There weren't many people around, running through Storm Freya, so there was a nice camaraderie among those hardy souls mad bastards who were out. Again my knee stopped complaining after the first km (I really need to warm up better) so I reached Hove Lagoon and instead of heading inland, continued along the bleak industrial estate towards Shoreham power station. This is the section of the marathon that separates the wheat from the chaff, and last year knocked me for six. Running along it in the middle of a storm killed some demons, and after a foray out to the end of Shoreham harbour arm I came inland and carried on westwards, passing Southwick station and heading towards Shoreham. 

Passing McDonalds I was tempted by the smell of the breakfast menu (plus the warmth and dryness within - by this point there was very little of me that wasn't soaked by sweat, rain, tears or sea spray) but pushed on, enjoying my podcasts and seeing how far I'd get. Entering Shoreham I turned south, away from the station, across the river Adur. I'd done this section at the end of a previous Sunday run to get some extra distance in, running directly to the beach and back. This time I ran around the coast as best I could, discovering a Napoleonic fort (that was across the harbour from the harbour arm I'd run up and down 45 minutes before) and running along a springy boardwalk across the beach which was a relief from the tarmac. Cutting inland at the end of the boardwalk I could've run north back to the bridge but I decided to head west, until I reached the river.

This is a geographical failing of mine, possibly brought on by poor nutrition beforehand as I was starving at this point, as the next river I could hit was the River Arun at Littlehampton - 15 miles/24km away! I plodded westwards, getting more and more concerned at the lack of river until I passed a familiar row of beach huts. I'd wound up on the Lancing Beach Green parkrun course! Buoyed by being on familiar terrain, and actually knowing where I was, I perked up a bit, noting that I'd surpassed 15km in this run, making it my furthest distance since the marathon last April. My mood was dashed two minutes later when I checked my watch again to see, instead of my time and distance, an error message showing that my app had crashed. After a brief bout of language that I rarely use outside of Gillingham's home ground, I carried on to the cafe, and manually uploaded the distance with an estimated time on Strava. At this point I was soaked through, hungry, and grumpy, so I went to the Asda by Lancing station to refuel before the train, also getting a bottle of beer from the non-alcoholic section (which was surprisingly tasty, before I realised it was alcoholic).

So, that's pretty much the story so far - at least until 3rd March. I've been on four more runs since then, including a new PB, new gear, new routes, new books, and a geographical mystery that's been nagging at me for the last four years. Until next time.