40 Days, Sore Toes and the Men in White Coats
Photograph by Aaron Protheroe
As I write this blog, the clock is ticking down to the Amsterdam marathon on 18 October. In fact, it is just 40 days away.
Running, and especially marathon running, is obsessive. At this stage it is beginning to haunt my dreams.
This week is significant because it marks the start of a series of races. I won’t be treating all of them competitively; some are simply sharpeners, and some, dare I say it, are social runs. That mixture is important. When you peak too early, physically or mentally, there is a real risk of burning out.
The mileage this week rises to 55 miles of running and 25 miles of walking, with strength training and yoga sprinkled on top. I’m also beginning to really appreciate the skills that a human coach brings rather than simply following an app. Yes, I’m fatigued, but I’m coping with the sessions carefully crafted to deliver me into the next one with enough left in the tank to complete the task.
The social side of running is critical. Runners understand runners, and I think runners genuinely interest each other. During a marathon training block, however, we can bore the hell out of everyone else. Perhaps we need to belong to a group of runners or risk being universally condemned as being just a little bit sad, as people begin to wonder about our sanity.
A case in point this week: I found myself in a discussion with my neighbour, a fine fellow really, about running while fatigued and why that is necessary. He was far too polite to comment, but his facial expressions amounted to a desire to call the men in white coats.
As I get older, I find myself having to explain some of my more dated expressions. The men in white coats were the people my Mum threatened to call when my brothers and I became a little unmanageable and needed to think about our behaviour.
My mother was a lovely woman and the best of mothers. She brought up three boys, all extremely active and probably in need of warning labels attached to our jumpers. I say this just in case any modern-day parental judgement was beginning to form in the reader’s mind.
She was born in 1940 and grew up as a child on wartime rations. Her father did not return from the Second World War, and she knew what it was to go to bed hungry. As an adult, she would give you the bread from her plate and go to bed hungry herself if that was what was required.
When I think about the grit it takes to run a marathon, I think about her. She remains a source of strength to me, even though she has long since passed.
I have a lot to be grateful for, as the last few lines of the Runner’s Psalm say:
And when I finish,
let me be grateful not simply that I have run,
but that I was able to run at all.
For the road is a gift,
the running is a gift,
and the morning is enough.
This week has been the usual mixture of higher-intensity sessions and plenty of shake-out and slower runs. Both have an important place in the training plan.
The weekly long run was Friday this week rather than Sunday, named by Ash, my coach, as The Church of the Long Run— a title I rather like. It was all off-road, wearing the Salomon gravel shoe, which is a great road-to-non-technical-trail option.
My toes are sore at the moment, though , runners’ feet , what can you do ?. Think piano keyboard, with plenty of ebony and ivory-coloured nails in almost equal distribution. It’s the life of a longer-distance runner and, for the moment, the trotters need to be concealed from public view.
I don’t mind the long runs, but my favourite sessions are those where the pace is varied. I need that right now. I think the endurance side of things is coming along nicely, but the work on cardio drift towards the end of the run needs more threshold work — and we’re getting into that now.
I was Parkrun Director this week, a role I enjoy, although there are always challenges to sort out. I could use the standard line, “Come on, fellas, it’s just Parkrun, not a race.” But it sort of is — just not for the reasons some might think.
Participation in Parkrun is part of the race of life and longevity. What you sow in your forties, you reap in your fifties, and so on through each decade albeit there are some exceptions to this rule sadly. However I see Parkrun as central to that race.
Sometimes I think this aspect gets lost in the arguments about the direction Parkrun is taking. The guys walking at the back are in exactly the same race. The next decade of their lives will be better for walking Parkrun — with one condition: it must be done consistently.
Consistency is the key to all progress.
This week I’ve been re-reading a book by Matt Fitzgerald called How Bad Do You Want It? It’s very interesting, and I suspect my growing interest in sports psychology is going to continue. It follows on nicely from the work of the eminent sports psychologist Bill Beswick.
Beswick talks about three things you need to ask yourself:
What do you want?
How much do you want it?
And are you prepared to suffer for it?
That seems to work very well with marathon training.
But central to his message is another idea that I particularly like:
Don’t let the things you can’t control affect the things you can.
I can work with that.
Sunday this week was Run Norwich, a truly memorable event. Around 8,000 runners, a great turnout from Dereham Runners, and crowds which, in sections, compete with much more famous events.
It is an exciting event all round, but there was particular interest at the front with Norfolk’s own Logan Smith, who seems capable of unifying the city behind him.
I believe there is more to come from Logan. Back to Beswick again, who argues that top athletes can perhaps get to 6/10 on ability alone, but need character to progress beyond that.
I see plenty of character in Logan.
Something about character will matter more than running one day to all of us.
Incidentally, if you don’t listen to Logan and Mark Armstrongs podcast, Snail & Pace, I heartily recommend it.
For H and me, RUN Norwich was a sharpener. We’re now looking forward to next week and the Round Norfolk Relay, which will feature in next week’s blog.
We are fully focused on that event. This week I intend to run at 5.15am each day — my start time for the Round Norfolk Relay — to acclimatise to racing at that time and condition the stomach to deal with fuelling so early in the morning. Marginal gains are essential when age and talent conspires against you
Forty days to go.
See you next week.
