London Marathon take 3.......?

So its that time of year again, the last long run is done, the taper is well under way, the expo will be opening tomorrow and then the streets of London will be filled with excited runners clutching their race packs.  I am of course talking about the Virgin London Marathon.  The build up and excitement is all part of this huge race.  Only this year I'm not part of it.  Or so I thought.  I still have the option to race and had decided not to due mainly to the recovery taking too much out of my cycle training.  I have enough long runs under my belt this year to make me slightly more confident about Transalpine and running a flat road marathon wouldn't really benefit me much right now.  But then I went for a lunchtime run along Embankment and saw all the barriers going up and started to reminisce about the last time I ran this section of the VLM and what a great race it is.  And its made me want to do it.  To the point where I am convincing myself (and others) that its not such a crazy idea after all.  I could run it slowly.......I have a weeks training in Lanzarote coming up in 3 weeks (thanks to Neptune Collognes!) where my cycling will take precedence for 4/5 days......I was planning on running 66 miles in a couple of weeks which I've decided against so really its a much shorter version of that.........and anything else I can find to throw into the "for" argument. 
The "against" argument is also convincing, and if I were sensible, I'd let that win.  It WILL take too much out of the other training.  I DONT need to run 26 miles on road at this point in my training plan.  It could lead to an injury (all my long runs this year have been off road) which could jeopardise other races/training I've been working towards.  Is just wanting to race really enough to ignore all of this? 
During my run today I thought about letting the weather decide.  If it was too wet to go out for my long bike ride on Saturday, I would take it as a rest day and then run on Sunday.  I have a few days left to think about this and try and recruit some more members to the "for" party.  I like to go with the majority.   Until then I will try and stay away from the Embankment.........

Back on (the) track

So with my first Olympic distance triathlon in 2 years coming up in about 6 weeks I decided it was time to try and regain some semblance of the running speed I used to have.  Back in the day I used to be able to knock out one of the fastest 10k run splits of the women's race and even won my World Championship slot in 2010 by 1 second thanks to my run.  However, with 2010/2011 being all about distance ahead of my first Ironman and 2011/2012 being all about off road running ahead of Transapline in September, there has been little time, or need, for speed work.  But with the fear of being found out and the even bugger humiliation of my boyfriend (Andy) finally out running me (a scenario that wouldn't have seemed possible 2 yrs ago), I found myself on the running track of Regents Park last Thursday with a black cloud and a group of boot-campers for company. 
My self devised set was to be a simple 6 x 2mins on 2mins off. Easy right?  Wrong.  By the 3rd rep I was ready to go home.  Nothing was right.  My breathing was more laboured than I'd thought it could be, my form felt wrong what used to feel like second nature now felt like a forced effort.  I suppose that's what happens when you spend so long out of the saddle so to speak, but it made me wonder, in the life of a full time employed, train-for-fun "athlete", is it possible to have it all??  Can you go fast as well as go long?  I guess time will tell and the 20th May will be when we find out just how many minutes I'll have managed to accrue to my run time in these past 2 years. 
But with 6 weeks on the track, I'm hoping to limit the damage as much as possible. We can but hope.........

Food for thought

So for the last 18 months or so I have followed what I call a low-carb diet (I know there are many that will be quick to point out the carbs in fruits, veg ect but for the sake of this post what I call carbs are breads, pasta, potatoes, grains etc), admittedly mainly because it seemed to be the "thing" to do and many (successful) people around me did it.  I was aware of the Paleo Diet for Athletes by Cordain and Friel and Why We Get Fat by Gary Taubes and the principles (and science) behind it made a lot of sense to me.  I had already ditched carbs in my evening meals years ago and rarely ate bread and noticed a marked difference in my weight.  Surrounded by such avid supporters of this way of eating and success already in terms of weight loss it made sense to avoid carbs other than during long training sessions or before/after races.  All seemed to be going well and I didnt notice any ill effects of this diet in terms of training or racing.  Then I read an article by Anthony Colpco (posted, no less, by the person who seemed to me to be the biggest advocater of the Paleo diet and to whom carb loading before an ultra marathon is a bowl of stewed apple) which basically threw everything I had believed in for so long out of the window.  I happened to read this article on the same day that I had one of my fortnightly sessions with my newly appointed personal trainer.  After the session we were chatting about training in general and the subject of food came up.  He asked me what I ate and when I told him the diet I (losely) followed, I may as well have told him I believed the earth was flat and that Harry Potter was real.  His reaction to this news was that of shock and, I suspect, a smidgen of incredulity, and after a bit of a talking to his parting words to me were "...and eat some carbs for Christ sake before you faint".  Right.  So needless to say I was somewhat confused as the evidence seemed to be stacking strongly against my carb-free beliefs.  Time to get a second (or in this case third) opinion and I consulted a professional IM athlete I know for some advice.  The reply was that yes, carbs are a vital part of their training and 2 meals a day and snacks were carb heavy. 
So, whilst I dont train quite like my professional friend, it does seem apparent that re-fuelling (and indeed pre-fuelling) training sessions is they way to go.  And when I talked this through with my boyfriend Andy he pointed out that if you fuel your races with carbs to get your optimal performance, why wouldn't you want to be hitting the same intensity for each training session?  Simples, it would seem. 

So, as alien as it is to me I am now having a protein shake before each session at the very least and then eating OATS(!!!!) for breakfast after the session.  Time will tell I guess if this is making a difference, and I'm interested to see if I am able to hit sessions harder because of this new fuelling regime.  If, however, all that happens is I gain a couple of kg's then I will revert back or at least modify the amount. 

It really is a minefield of information out there and who's to say one way is right and the other wrong?  You could find papers and stats to back up anything you wanted to believe more or less (nutritionally speaking) so I'm going for the 'experiment and see what happens' approach. 
This could mean I am either going to be faster and stronger, or investing in a larger tri suit........

East Sussex CTS marathon Race Report 24/3/2012

After an evening of filling up on Rays famous chilli (sorry to Rays other guests if you were left hungry…) we awoke early on Saturday for our trip to the south coast.  Our start was delayed slightly and as soon as we had stemmed the bleeding from Andys finger (in his haste to get caffeine in him he stabbed himself opening the coffee packet) we hit the road.  There was a lot of traffic about for that time on a Saturday morning and although we missed our official registration time, there were no problems and we had time to get ourselves sorted and ready for the day ahead, and it looked set to be a sunny one. 

We dibbed out one by one and headed off along the soft grassy track and I was enjoying being out.  For a change I was the one looking forward to this more and Andy mentioned more than once that he didn’t really feel as up for it as usual.  This soon changed though as no one could not be up for a run in surroundings and conditions that we found ourselves in.  The course, true to form, soon started heading North (and I don’t mean towards Scotland, I mean towards the sun).  We were running along the cliff tops, up and down and up and down and up again for a couple of miles which meant on the ups you could take your time and enjoy the scenery.  Olivia was with us for this part and shortly passed us as we were walking up a longer climb.  I secretly didn’t want her to beat me and expressed this concern to Andy who assured me that we were still only 4 miles or so in and that we’d see her, and a lot of other people who passed us on these hills, again later.  So we carried on walking, eating, chatting and sure enough caught up with her again, around the point we had to negotiate our way around a cement lorry which involved clambering up a bank, rather than running through the wet concrete they’d just laid.  Didn’t really fancy concrete boots on this terrain!  She was running well and I remember thinking that as someone who used to dislike running she was performing incredibly well.  I still wasn’t convinced that Andy was right and set off in hot pursuit after her only to be reigned back in by Andy.  We came to a downhill section which we seemed to be stronger than Olivia on so hit the first checkpoint pretty much together.  She was faster through it than us (well, me, Andy was ready and waiting) and was off again into the distance.  We kept it steady along a mile or so of flat field and were passed by 2 other girls.  We remarked that they were running at a fairly fast pace for so early in a marathon and Andy even bet me £100 that I’d beat all three of them.  Sure enough by the time we reached the gate at the end of the field I had passed one and the other shortly after.  We’ll call this second girl “The Rower” as she’ll feature again in this report and was wearing what looked like rowing shorts.   We hit another incline and this is where we caught up with Olivia.  We passed her on the narrow track and kept on truding upwards and when I asked her a question and got no response I was surprised to turn around and see her further back than I’d thought. 

I’m lucky with my running partner as Andy is like my alarm clock reminding me to eat and drink, my pacer, holding me back when I start to speed up and pushing me on to run hills I would probably have walked and my wind break.  Everyone should get one.

The miles all blur into one from this point but we spotted another lady just before the 2^nd checkpoint and she wasn’t getting any nearer.  By the time we left the CP she was running more like a speed-walker with her feet barely leaving the ground and I felt sorry for her that she looked in such a bad way only half way through.  But there’s no time for sympathy in this game.  We hit another steep hill and I took this opportunity to eat something.  I had bought 2 buttered hot cross buns as part of my nutrition but after only managing to choke down half, I was relieved of the weight of the rest by my kind partner.  On this hill is where we saw The Rower again.  Steaming up it like she was being chased by a pack of rabid hounds and breathing like she was having an asthma attack.  Only to slow to practically a walk (hardly surprising) almost immediately in front of us.  We were baffled as to why she would expend so much energy running a hill like that, my HR up it was 170 just walking. She had done this a couple of time already, so we trailed her for a while and when we hit a slight downhill section (where although I’m not great, I can usually pass a few people) we hatched a plan to psyche her out to the point of detonation.   Sounds harsh I know but like I said, show no sympathy.  So I execute the plan to perfection, catching her up and then just sitting on her shoulder to push her on.  Lo and behold, as soon as she knew I was there she upped the pace.  You could actually feel it getting faster and faster.  So with an internal “mwahhhh haaaaa haaaaaa haaaa!”, Andy and I opened our stride and left her.  We didn’t see her again.   

By this point we were almost back to where we started, ready to do a loop the in the other direction.  As we were coming in we clashed with the 10k-ers who were on their way out.  So may runners everywhere!  The loop the other way out consisted of what I believe are the Seven Sisters, namely 7 hills along the cliff tops.  A lot of it was walkable but apparently more of it was runnable according to Andy as we ploughed on up and down passing the half marathon-ers as we went.  One of whom was our Bridget who was having trouble with blisters and calves (her calves, not baby cows) but was still in fine spirits.  Apparently she said she could hear us bantering away miles into the distance.  Good job we weren’t saying anything bad…..!  Shortly after we saw Oli Sinclair on his way back to do his extra loop that makes up the ultra.  He looked good and was running well.  I hoped I looked that good when I got to where he was.  (I didn’t.) 

This section seemed to last forever and I was tired of running up hills when the old phrase “be careful what you wish for” became more true than its ever 25/30% descent which everyone seemed to be walking down.  Andy, like the mountain goat he is, shot off and I took this opportunity to slow down, only to discover that I wasn’t slowing down, my legs were screaming and the only thing I could do was come to a complete stop.  Unfortunately this is where Andy decided to turn around and I had to start running again.  It hurt a lot, but I must have passed about 15 people on that section alone.  This last loop was cruel as it takes you almost to the finish, you can see it in the distance about half a mile away, then it turns you left and up yet another hill to do a loop around before coming back over the Seven Sisters cliff that we’d come out over.  Things were getting a bit bleak now and even the happy pills (don’t worry, they’re just caffeine) didn’t seem to make me very happy.  I didn’t know which was worse, the down hills or the up. 

On the way back over the Seven Sisters I started to get cramp.  I have never had cramp in a race in my life so this was a new experience for me.  I can now see how it can stop someone in their tracks.  The back of my knees, my calves and my feet were spasm-ing like made.  My foot was turned out at practically right angles due to cramp but I couldn’t stop to fix it, I knew we only had a mile and a half to go.  According to the website and the briefing that morning, the distance was 27.something and my Garmin showed 25.5.  I was waiting for the last mile to pick the pace up and was just taking it easy until then.  Suddenly a blur shot by us which turned out to be Oli, stating “I think that’s called being lapped” as he disappeared from sight.  Andy wanted to chase him but I was reluctant to let him go as the distraction of his chatter was what was keeping me from lying down in the cool grass and going to sleep.  Then suddenly, around the next corner, the finish chute was there.  At 26.1 miles it was at least a mile sooner than I had expected, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, just unexpected.  I didn’t get to wind up for a fast last mile, and Andy certainly could have gone after Oli as we were, at that point, about 150m from the end.  But, glad to have got it done in 4.32.  Oli got 2^nd in the Ultra, Tomas 2^nd in the half marathon so we hung out on the grass with Bridget (who ran the last 4 miles in barefeet!) and Olivia (great performance from her, and first Vet!) and Ana to watch them collect their prizes.  Only when I heard my name being called did I realise I had managed to get 3^rd place in the marathon and was collecting a prize myself!  Happy days!  A pleasant yet unexpected surprise. 

A stunning course, made even better by the weather which has to have been the best day we’ve had this year.  I do think I owe my 3^rd place to Andy and feel I had a slight advantage (though not as much as the man with his dog on a harness pulling him along (who we beat BTW)) as without his orders of when to run and when to hold back, and when to eat and drink, I probably would have met the same fate as The Rower and blown myself up.    

A nice day out, plenty of sunshine and a slap up meal in Harvester with Bridget, Olivia and Tomas rounded things off nicely.

Getting into the 21st century

So I decided to set up a blog, not because I think I have anything of particular interest to say, but more as an archive for myself of my experiences in racing and training and other notable events in my life.  The main driver for this is my upcoming race across the Alps in September this year - I wanted a way to keep my friends and family back home informed of my progress (and pain)  without being limited to the 25 characters that Twitter and Facebook generously allow. 

For now this blog will probably be fairly sparse in terms of visuals and links and all the fancy stuff other boggers seem to use, I am slowly getting to grips with it all and actually am quite chuffed that I have even been able to set it up this far. 

So keep an eye on here if you're at all interested......!

Haworth Hobble 10/03/2012

A joint report from Andy and I.

Haworth Hobble

Just for a change Lotte and I thought we would put together a joint race report for the Haworth Hobble. Its broken down into chapters which should offer our dual perspective and hopefully make for a nice change.

Pre-race and start

Andy: Unusually, Lotte arose before I did. We had kindly been put up at Ali and Emma’s in Hebden bridge, but since Emma had taken Ali off for some more (undoubtedly hilly) training for her attempt at the Fred Whitton, they had left us the keys. After a long week at uni, and a long drive, I tried to convince Lotte of the merits of the ‘John Griffin approach’.  It’s a complex method, but fundamentally involves consuming a bottle of red wine the night before a race.

Anyway, we got up around 5.45am, fed the cats, and the fish (house sitting comes with great responsibility) and set about breakfast.  Coffee with coconut oil, a berry smoothie and stewed apple with reflex natural whey protein powder stirred in (yum?)

As we drove over to the race start in Haworth (about 8 miles) the weather did not look promising. At the top of the hills, there was a thick cloud, it was raining, and there was driving wind; saw a couple of wind turbines that looked as though they were about to take off. With a relatively low volume of running, I had that nagging feeling in the back of my head, “do I REALLY need to do this?”

Having registered and eaten some almond slice, we walked over to the start, down a steep hill, which as Lotte correctly predicted, we were about to run straight back up….

Lotte: I spent the night acting as a bean bag for the cats whilst Andy slept soundly beside me.  Despite my attempts to deposit the cats onto his side of the bed they seemed to prefer my company.  So I gave in and tried to let the purring (from the cats, not Andy) lull me back to sleep.  It didn’t work.  After a cuppa and some porridge we drove over to the race in miserable weather.  Visibility was pretty bad and I was reluctant to get out of the car on arrival.  However, just as we were walking to registration, the rain stopped and patches of blue appeared.  Our spirits were raised.  Little did we know how short lived that would be……... 

First 15 miles

Andy: Well what can I say? I didn’t see much. The weather hadn’t much improved since our drive over, and for considerable sections of this part of the run, it was worse. The only thing you could really hold on to was the fact that the run was a loop, and therefore eventually, that would mean we wouldn’t be running into a headwind. Of course, the wind could change direction with us and by the way the day had gone so far, that would not have surprised me.  I was settling in for a long day. There was however a long downhill very runnable section (even with the wind behind us, almost) which I very much enjoyed, so I can’t say it was all bad. We were however mostly in cloud, which meant that I didn’t see much more than just a grass verge for a good couple of hours, which got quite boring. I guess its just lucky the weather wasn’t like this way back when, or no-one would ever have found Wuthering Heights. We had soon realised we should stay close to ‘the locals’, with no map of our own, we would not have stood a chance on the navigation front.

Lotte:  Yorkshire people are a hardy bunch.  Not a piece of Kenesio tape nor compression sock in sight.  Just tough folk with nothing more than a pair of Mo Farah shorts and a vest sprinting off up the first hill as if the headwind didn’t exist.  We southerners were definitely in a different league to this lot.  I felt incredibly slow, even though our pace was decent and my heart rate was up.  I spent a lot of this first section tucked in behind Andy trying to get some shelter from the relentless wind.  As Andy enjoyed the long downhill section he asked if I was alright as I was rather quiet.  I told him I was bored.  Bored of seeing nothing but his back, there were no views to see (even though a couple of locals assured us the views were amazing) thanks to the cloud we were running through.  Bored and fed up at 9 miles in.  This was going to be a looooong day.  The couple of biscuits from mile 7 check point were wearing off and I had the hump that the only food there was some broken biscuits.  Not what I would call substantial for a 32 mile run into the wind with 4,400ft of elevation.  My 3 gels and 3 Mrs Crimble macaroons would be gone before half way at this rate.  However, as we passed our 3 or 4^th or possibly even 5^th reservoir (hard to tell after a while) and came upon checkpoint 2 @ mile 15 my spirits soared as my eyes beheld hot cross buns, jam doughnuts, hotdogs, squash, biscuits and sweets.  YEY!!!  FOOOOOOOOOOOD!!  Even though Andy made me run and eat I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a doughnut more. 

Stoodley Pike revisited

Andy: Having sustained myself on 3 gels and handful of biscuits for the first 13 miles, at the 2^nd aid station, I refilled my water and grabbed roughly the equivalent of a whole packet of biscuits, more out of boredom and for something to do (eat loads of biscuits) than anything else.  With no views, the running had been a little dull. Unusually, however, there was another checkpoint just 2 miles down the route. More because I couldn’t resist myself, I then had a hot dog and a hot cross bun – soon, my spirits were beginning to lift, and with it, the cloud cover. 

We trudged on, following ‘the locals’ through Todmorden, and lots of turns, lucky not to get lost. Soon enough however, the climbing began to start proper. Just before the ascent up to Stoodley Pike there was yet another aid station at around 20 miles. I was almost beside myself with joy having had a jam doughnut, some biscuits, and another hot cross bun when I realised there was a man giving out drams of whisky. A Jura 10 years single malt – nothing special, but hey, it was free. I’ve never tried alcohol in a race before and I think I’d try it again. It certainly gave me that inner warmth for the climb up to the pike. We yet again followed a ‘local’ for the fastest route.  As it turned out this guy had come third in this race 10 years previously in 4.26 – not too shabby. Even if he was a little slower now, he wasn’t going to be wasting his time with anything but the fastest route. We made some good time up to the pike and then back down into Hebden Bridge. When Lotte and I had visited Ali and Emma before IMUK last year, we had actually run out and back to Stoodley Pike from their house, so this was now a familiar route!

Lotte:  On a sugar high we strode off enjoying the fact that we were almost half way and the fog had gone.  It was still windy in places, and very muddy.  Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about mud and like a proper girl, I picked my way as delicately as possible around the worst of it but still ended up submerged up to my ankles in black mud (and I think a not insubstantial amount of cow poo).  A local man had told us that the first 20 miles were runnable, then it got hard.  Erm…..what?  THEN it got hard?!!  See? Yorkshire folk.  Hardcore.  I tried to convince myself that he had got it wrong, despite this being his 6^th race but had to face reality as we came upon Stoodley pike.  Andy had been chatting to a guy that looked like a pirate and I was a few paces behind when I saw Long John Silver, Andy and a handful of others leave the path the other runners had taken and go directly vertically up towards the top.  I followed suit and gasped my way up along side a woman who was actually on her hands and feet crawling her way up.  Steep was not the word.  But it was quicker and became quicker still when Andy got behind me and told me to “hurry up” because he was getting cold.  Yeah, next time Andy, a push up the hill would have been more conducive……..

We reached the top and the cloud again.  The wind was howling up there and we saw some people heading straight on in the distance.  We couldn’t see anyone else and as we’d been up here before and taken the left hand way down into Hebden Bridge we stopped to wait for someone who did know.  Luckily LJS knew and we were soon running down a lovely gentle descent towards Hebden Bridge and actually passed Emma and Ali’s house where we were staying.  Had I had the house key on me at that point………….

Hebden bridge and beyond

Andy:  As we dropped down into Hebden Bridge (past the end of Ali and Emmas road!) it was hard to convince Lotte to carry on, along what turned out to be a long, hard, steady and uneven slog for more or less 6 more miles.

The final two miles were however downhill, but by now, it was just about getting it done. Even though the weather had improved, my conditioning was making itself apparent.  My right hip flexor was quite sore and I too was as glad as Lotte to finish in just over 6 hours.

We didn’t hang around for food, and headed straight back for a shower and a stretch before getting a pork belly in the oven for a good 3.5hours. Down the pub for a pint, then back for dinner. All in all, a good day!

Lotte:  After the Everest-esque expedition up to Stoodley Pike we of course had to drop down into the town of Hebden Bridge.  By now the downhills were harder than the ups and I actually had to lean on Andy to make running the long descent to the town bearable.  I even fell over on one of the steeper sections. L The third doughnut high had long gone and I was tired.  The sun was now out and it was hot.  Of course because we had dropped back to sea level, we had to climb back up into the clouds.  This was a long long hill which was only made better by a local man in his doorway offering sweets and juice.  Normally my upbringing would have kept me away from a stranger trying to lure me into his house with sweets but by this point I didn’t care.  The going was tough, the ground uneven.  Andys game for the day was run for 10 mins then we can reward ourselves with a walk and some food.  This seemed to work as before we knew it a couple more miles had ticked by and we were at marathon distance in a time of 5:03.  Only 10k to go.  Only another hour of running…………………. Our walking time was over on an uphill section that everyone else was walking so as we were running again now we passed a fair few people here.  2 mixed teams which pleased Andy (I was way beyond caring where we finished, just as long as we did soon) and a handful of people we’d be too-ing and fro-ing with.  But as soon as we hit the descent, they more or less all came by us again.  This is by far my weakness and I need to learn how to descend properly, even when tired.  At the bottom of this downhill section was, yup, another up.  We walked this and worked out we had about 2 miles to go.  We walked mainly because everyone else was.  In fact, we should have run it as we were so close to the end.  But as soon as we got off that section of road and onto the dirt track we started to wind it up.  I told Andy to pick it up a gear and we started taking some places back.  Unsurprisingly, I loved this section, down hill and a mile from the end.  A wiggly path past a church and we popped out a few hundred meters from the school.  A lovely sunny afternoon and a good cheer from the supporters and we were finished. 

This was a really good value for money race.  £10 each and cake at the start, food galore on 3 of the checkpoints and a hot meal and more cake at the finish. A tough but rewarding course (well it would have been if we’d have been able to see the views!) and a better understanding of why they call it the Haworth Hobble.