Countdown: Two Weeks to Go

Numbers UP!

Two weeks today, hopefully I'll be putting my feet up after completing 13.1 miles in the Royal Parks. Race number has arrived, charity vest is at the ready, and with a few more physio sessions lined up between now and then, I'm crossing my fingers that I'll be racing on Oct 7th.

The ITB is still causing some discomfort, but I managed 10km (with a break for added stretching) this morning without wanting to throw myself in the Serpentine. So provided Emily brings the chat, my ibuprofen lasts and these agonising foam roller love ins pay off, all will be well. I'm doing about 20 minutes a day with the blasted thing (10mins in the morning, 10 in the evening). I'd say we're getting a tad co-dependant. Stella is not happy and took another chunk out of it while I wasn't looking.

I've managed my prescribed exercises all week, mainly as the trainers were gathering dust due to the annual seasonal cold that has been going around, but I'm really hoping they help in the long term, and I don't get told off by the physio again!

The REGIME as imagined by Stick Man 

Rock and Roller. A Horror Story

On Sunday I managed 13.5km of my planned 17km long run before the Dreaded Knee won over, and through gritted teeth I had to admit defeat. After much debating about walk/ running home and even trying a few yards at a time I knew the game was up and limped to the bus stop in a sulk.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with ice packs at the ready, developing an autumn cold and feeling sorry for myself. I had come to the realisation that no amount of Green Giant frozen peas were going to sort out this particular issue. I had an idea this may be the Insufferable IT band causing all this worry, but I had to seek advice from the professionals.

And I was right. Thankfully by some miracle granted by the running gods, I got myself an appointment on a day's notice. and some tough advice to boot.

The diagnosis? In order of pain brought on by physio massage (I screamed. Like a baby)

1. Rock hard, aching calves brought on by too many days tottering about in high heels and not enough stretching. Apparently this is also why I'm not getting faster, my calves aren't able to generate the power  because they're TOO STIFF. I blame Kurt Geiger 
2. Inflamed IT band from non-engaged glutes. Yes I have a  LAZY ass! Oh and, not enough stretching
3. Very tight hip-flexors from, you guessed it, not enough stretching AND cycling up hills in France 

My physio thinks we may be able to do a 'patch up' job for the Royal Parks, provided I take nurofen for  two weeks like fiend and do my exercises/ stretches every single day. Twice. At least. And come back to see her for more torture, aka treatment. Serves me right. Really should've down the stretches, starting about 2 years ago.

Oh and meet my new Best Friend - the Foam Roller. Welcome to the House of Pain. I screamed like a baby, again.

Resting. While I choke back tears OF PAIN

Getting acquainted. Pre-excruciating, blood curdling screams

Stella found this new development somewhat unnerving, attacked the foam roller and then tried to sit on me while I was doing my stretches. I might make her stretch with the roller if she tries that again. Not a helpful coach.

Stella is suspicious

I've also had to take one last, long look at my beautiful collection of heels as they are now, verboden until after the race, and even then I suspect my physio would suggest not on a daily basis. There goes my cost-per-wear theory. But an excuse to buy new shoes. So not a terrible day.

Wicked Witch Flats - serious toe cleavage

Good Week, Bad Week

No good deed goes unpunished, past few weeks have certainly been proof of that!

Having got back from France relaxed and fitter than we were before we left, we discovered Stella the Dog wasn't very well and shipped her off to the vet to get her checked out. Thankfully she's fine, dosed up on antibiotics for a mild bug, but the vet did notice that her poor paws are looking a bit worn and has suggested she only run trails. No more pavements. Or I need to buy her some Nikes.

Coach: On sabbatical 

So I am currently without a coach. But I managed a decent five and half miles last Tuesday, trying out a new route via Hammersmith to shake it up a bit.

Wednesday a few of us braved the wilds of North London to visit Move Three Sixty on advice that Hannah Richards had passed on when we met during one of Sweaty Betty's Run Britannia events.

We met with Claud Serjeant for our assessment who quickly worked through analysing our postures, videoing our running styles (cringe!) and checking our footwear. He gave us some invaluable insight into where we were going wrong, what the aches and pains were pointing to, and how to correct them. It's all about the glutes! Oh and the hamstrings. We came away with core strength exercises and stretches to begin working into our training schedules. So many 'ah ha!' moments around balance, symmetry and kinetic movement, I wish I had brought a notebook!

Saturday I had my first Yoga class of my beginner's course at the Life Centre. Ninety minutes of basic stretching, postures and some interesting new types of breathing (who knew?!).

The Life Centre in Notting Hill

Armed with new stretches, (mad breathing) and awareness of posture, Emily and I banked 15km with a pretty decent pace for 7:30am on an unseasonably hot Sunday morning. And all seemed well, up until about 13km, when my knee started to complain and its been niggling on and off just a little too much for me to ignore. After all of that!

I managed only 3 miles this evening, before it started playing up again and now I'm a little injury paranoid. It may just be a par-for-the-course ache, rather than anything more serious, but nevertheless I am icing the knee with as many frozen peas as I can get my hands on. Oh and eating chocolate pudding, I hear it has pretty good healing properties. I may just take another rest day with the Coach.

Chocolate Pudding. Good for knees

A French Affair

Last week I packed my running shoes along with my passport and headed to Plaisance in France, for a week of indulging in cheese, catching up with family and perhaps even fitting in some cycling between the running sessions I had planned.

Most of that went according to plan. We took a leisurely train to the Aveyron region via Toulouse, settled into the holiday mood and arrived at our destination suitably relaxed and full of french pastry. And as a result I was itching to get some mileage in to hopefully balance the butter intake and ease out the stiffness that comes with long train journeys.

I needn't have worried, it didn't take long to get ourselves sorted out with top-of-the-range bikes, creative itineraries, maps and Garmins, from the wonderfully effervescent  and knowledgeable Claudia Koch who owns and runs Cycling Magnolias, a cycling tour company based in the beautiful Les Magnolia's hotel in Plaisance who we booked our holiday through.

Les Magnolia's Hotel

One or two long bike rides wouldn't mess too much with my running plans, I thought, I can include in my 'cross training' days and perhaps one or two meandering trips around the country side on my recovery days. Surely? Best laid plans and all that....

I have to admit, the running was forsaken in favour of the beautiful bike I found myself in possession of for a week. It wasn't the easiest first day, I fell off four (!!)  times while I got used to the straps on the pedals and I earned myself some spectacular bruises, but after that it was a match made in heaven. Beautiful countryside to explore, minimum traffic and breathtaking views.

My lovely hybrid for the week 

My trainers were almost left in my suitcase, I just wasn't planning on having such fun on the bike and the running sessions were quickly forgotten.  Of course I was suitably punished by finding new and interesting muscles that ached like nothing I have ever experienced having hit the hills or trying (stupidly) to keep pace with my uber-fit cycling-guru father.

Dad and I on top of the hill en route to St Izaire (75km round trip)

So, by the end of the holiday I had clocked up (almost) 200km on the bike and a very disappointing 10km in actual running, one session on an early Tuesday morning post thunderstorm to shake out the stiff cycling muscles. Of course I am blaming the heat  and the fact that those hills can only be conquered with bikes. My legs on their own just couldn't cope!

I also blame the cheese. I can't run on a full stomach. But I can cycle.

Cheese. The overriding theme of the trip

Back in London and I am contemplating buying a road bike. But like any affair, I can't quite see how it would fit into my 'real' life in London just yet. To much traffic to contend with, the issue of storage, the expensive kit that comes with it. So I'm back with my first love, simple straight-forward running and hitting the pavements back in training for the Royal Parks.

But there may be a triathlon in my future... wear did I store my swimming cap again?

The Hills are Aliiiiiive!

On Thursday night I attended a Women's Running event at Runner's Need in Victoria hosted by the editor, a life coach, personal trainer and a physiotherapist. The main focus of the event was to discuss motivation and training techniques and thankfully the crowd were all relatively new runners, training for half marathons, so we all had very similar questions.

My main challenge at the moment is getting my pace up when running on my own. I find it incredibly hard to push the speed element of the training without someone else's slightly faster pace to mirror. Interval training I can manage, but its the longer stamina runs that end up falling back to 11:30 min miles, rather that the 10:30 I'm aiming for.

The feedback from the experts then was to give hill training a go. Great for stamina, a form of interval training and also adds in an element of strength training for the old legs. Clearly I am thrilled about this. Hills - not a fan. Intervals - make me want to vomit. Fantastic.

The plan they recommended looks like this:

• Warm up for 10 minutes regular tempo
• 1 minute or thereabouts hard up hill 
• Recover on the down hill
• Repeat for 15 minutes (with a 2 minute recovery jog if needed half way)
• Cool down 10 minute tempo run

This looked pretty doable actually and lucky for me there's a pretty killer hill about a mile away from my flat, just enough time to warm up then.

I set off in my brand spanking new running kit (discount sale at the seminar! I am a sucker for a deal) feeling pretty positive about the session. One minute up hill - pfffft! Easy.

Walk? We ran!

Stella contemplates the hill

Stella sets the pace

And so we hit the hill. One minute up hill, fine. I've done that hill a hundred times before. But just the one time per run. One minute up that hill six times over? Not so fine. Although very amusing for passers by, and very confusing for Stella the Dog who actually sat down at one point. Clearly the hill even got to her.

Really pleased I managed it and what a way to clear the better part of 5kms and get the heart rate hitting the threshold. HELL YES! (I say this after I collapsed in a heap on my kitchen floor)

Four to the floor

Stella in Recovery Mode = Hiding

Suffering: Optional

With the 2012 Olympic spirit blazing through London at the moment its hard not to get completely engulfed in it and then attempt some huge personal record breaking feats. And why not? Mo winning double gold in particular, and emphasising, "its all hard work and grafting, then anything is possible" inspired me to get out there and train. No more excuses. 

I've also found inspiration in another form, as I am finally reading one of the definitive running autobiographies by the brilliant Murakami; What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. He writes about the idea that pain is inevitable, but that suffering is optional. This was a philosophy he read an ultra-marathon runner discussing when coping with huge physical stress over a prolonged period of time without giving up, and its an idea he's taken to heart with his training. 

So yes, basically it is going to hurt. Potentially a lot. There's no getting round that, but it's whether or not you give into your doubt or fear of coping with that pain that makes all the difference. There's a choice there, which seems so obvious and simple. But when I'm breaking new ground, be it that extra kilometre, faster pace or steeper hill, its a choice I have to keep making, sometimes over and over again while running. 

Thankfully though I am not training for an ultramarathon, so let's be frank and do away with my drama queen antics, the pain won't be gut-wrenching (we hope!). 

It's all in the eyebrow

Nevertheless, my training run today of 7 miles (11.3kms) was not off to a great start and I was feeling pretty lack lustre. That pain in the hip started niggling again and then a nasty stitch developed around the 3 mile mark (that will be that apple danish, more fool me!). But with a few well chosen mantras, some old school Chemical Brothers (Dig your Own Hole, ironically fitting) and consistently making the choice to push on through, in the end I managed a decent pace and finished the required mileage. 

Even if I did end up looking a bit like this. Ouch. 

This snapshot doesn't quite show you how red in the face I actually go (crimson). Having pushed through the discomfort, and locked another training session in the bank, I do love those endorphins and the red face, dry mouth, salt in the eyes, burning muscles that they bring. Pretty fantastic after all. 

Plus I get to demolish a huge guilt free seared beef and mustard BOSS sandwich. Full credit to Mr R for making sure there was delicious post run food in the fridge. Gold!

The Good Run

Running and I did not get off to a good start this week. Still recovering from my Sunday long run, I wasn't feeling very clever on Monday morning. With an early start looming, and the bus rounding the corner faster than I could walk it, so I made a run for it, thinking I could clear the distance Usain Bolt style. Forgot I was wearing heels, forgot I am not, in fact, an Olympic gold medal sprinter. Forgot to look out for misplaced dustbins. And predictably, found myself upended on the pavement, flat on my face on Ladbroke Grove with the contents of my handbag strewn far and wide. Thankfully I was wearing trousers.

A very sweet 10 year old boy stopped to help me collect my oyster card, mascara and notebook, while three very able young men pretended not to laugh. No cut lips, but my blood was boiling nonetheless. I think my pride was more hurt than my scuffed hands and knees but Ouch (capital O). Oh and I missed the bus.

Tuesday's rolled around and I'm still feeling a bit battered from the fall (no blood it did some kind of mischief to my shoulder and I'm playing up the drama). But the training schedule is what it is. And there's less than 9 weeks to go to the Royal Parks half marathon. No more excuses.

Recently I've been trying to incorporate the tips on form that I was given a few weeks back during one of the Run Britannia sessions, and its beginning to really make a difference. I've picked up a few bad habits over the past 18 months that I have been running, which they say is very normal, the hardest thing is just getting out a doing it in the first place. But now that I'm trying to increase speed and pick up the distance, I need to start looking at being more energy efficient. Which isn't as hard has it looks.

So I'm trying to unpick the habit of heel striking and shifting to mid foot running which means I'm dragging my feet less and using stronger muscles (activate the hamstrings - OUCH). I'm straightening my back and pulling my shoulder blades back rather than up, so less slumping forward and less tension. And lastly I'm relaxing. Yes really. Just going with it.

And what a run it was! Not overly quick, or long, but I felt pretty goddamn amazing. A few aches and pains as per normal, but less fatigued, much lighter. And the niggling hip pain seems to be easing. Even in the pouring rain. YES!

Hardcore. Oh Yes. 

New Route!