Today sees the start of week 13 of Forestman training. With the last three weeks being taper, that means the next 4 weeks are set to be (athletically) the hardest of my life.
Last week I was supposed to do a 10 mile run but I substituted it for the 13 miler I missed last week. Well, I attempted to last night but it felt like no matter how far I ran I remained a bit too far away from 13 miles to get it done befoer dinner and bed - one single time in the day at the moment.
It was painful getting running along the canal last night. Not physically so but the brain just wanted to shut down and go to sleep until I finally stopped over-thinking it and just enjoyed the flowers and the sunset.
By the time I'd got into town I was in full stride so I popped in to Ponds Forge to pick up flapjack fuel and continued running. At first home, to drop off my rucsac and fill up a Camelback and then out around the houses at the edge of the Rivelin valley where I walked the most precipitous hills - upwards to save my heart and downwards to save my feet.
I bust through the door still with only 16km on the clock instead of 20 but not bad for a Monday night.
4 days totalling 1 Marathon. I'm quite pleased with that.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Saturday, April 27, 2013
This Year's (first) Glossop Test Loop
It's been an awesome ride over to Glossop today. Started with a loop down to Endcliffe Park to watch friends on a Re-Uni-On racing then progressed through Hallam & Fullwood to the A57 and over to the snake pass.
A lovely climb up the snake was completely ruined by face-on hailstones riding down the other side. In 40 mph winds combined with my 43mph travelling speed, I had to stop, put my cap on, pull the visor over my eyes and spend the entire descent just trying to stay between the white lines.
Thankfully through Hayfield and Chinley, the sun came out and rewarmed the shot-blasted skin layers after the top layer had been swiftly removed by little balls of ice.
I turned off for my ride through Wash totally expecting to have to get off and walk the steep 1 in 3 hills. Instead I took a breather half way up the first hill before continuing to ride it. I rode all the way up the second and on to Rushup edge which is a breeze after the Wash climbs.
Final climb up through Surprise View above Hathersage was painless. I was more pained by the Cinelli / Rapha boys who'd obviously driven out to the Foxhouse only to come spinning past me at the top of the hill. Fortunately the last one was really fat so I drafted him for a while before he dropped away from me like a stone on the descent.
I took a turn and wiggled my way through the lanes back to the Rivelin Road where I battled more headwind to get home. I am pained, convinced that I'd had a headwind on my way out. I mean I wasn't imagining the pain of hailstones in my face.
Momentarily I was tempted by the climb up Hagg Hill to bring me to my house through the nice flat-ish Bole Hill Lane instead of having to fight my way up Walkley Hill. Presented with the reality that I'd need to push my bike, I headed through the allotments instead, choosing to run up the steps cyclo-cross style instead. When I put my bike down I discovered by saddle was loose and opted to realign it a little. Much better on the tri bars now. Slightly less over-extension of the old ham strings.
60 miles, almost 2000m climbing and 5hours, 10 mins. I'm happy with that for a hilly course as it would bring my less hilly IM time in at 8.5 hours.
A lovely climb up the snake was completely ruined by face-on hailstones riding down the other side. In 40 mph winds combined with my 43mph travelling speed, I had to stop, put my cap on, pull the visor over my eyes and spend the entire descent just trying to stay between the white lines.
Thankfully through Hayfield and Chinley, the sun came out and rewarmed the shot-blasted skin layers after the top layer had been swiftly removed by little balls of ice.
I turned off for my ride through Wash totally expecting to have to get off and walk the steep 1 in 3 hills. Instead I took a breather half way up the first hill before continuing to ride it. I rode all the way up the second and on to Rushup edge which is a breeze after the Wash climbs.
Final climb up through Surprise View above Hathersage was painless. I was more pained by the Cinelli / Rapha boys who'd obviously driven out to the Foxhouse only to come spinning past me at the top of the hill. Fortunately the last one was really fat so I drafted him for a while before he dropped away from me like a stone on the descent.
I took a turn and wiggled my way through the lanes back to the Rivelin Road where I battled more headwind to get home. I am pained, convinced that I'd had a headwind on my way out. I mean I wasn't imagining the pain of hailstones in my face.
Momentarily I was tempted by the climb up Hagg Hill to bring me to my house through the nice flat-ish Bole Hill Lane instead of having to fight my way up Walkley Hill. Presented with the reality that I'd need to push my bike, I headed through the allotments instead, choosing to run up the steps cyclo-cross style instead. When I put my bike down I discovered by saddle was loose and opted to realign it a little. Much better on the tri bars now. Slightly less over-extension of the old ham strings.
60 miles, almost 2000m climbing and 5hours, 10 mins. I'm happy with that for a hilly course as it would bring my less hilly IM time in at 8.5 hours.
They didn't really expect me to go straight back to work on a day like today?
On keeping an eye on the weather when you're running without any kit.
 |
| Bleaklow not looking so Bleak |
 |
| Emley Moor from Bleaklow Moor |
 |
| Secret tiny snow-bridges |
 |
| 'Icklest Teeniest Lamb |
 |
| Impending sense of cold. |
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| Getting a little worried but still sunny, so enjoying myself... right? |
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| Last little hidey hole from the wind and I can see the car on the snake pass - phew! |
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| Very glad to see this arrive only 3 minutes from the car - cue 3 minutes of epically frozen hands. |
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| Iced up |
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Damn it
Motivation gone and I feel like I could sleep for a week... and then, it's the weekend after tomorrow and time to start all over again.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Sent to Try Us
I tentatively took the foot for a run last week. A nice flat run in Clumber Park which could have been any length I wanted it to be. As it is, at the end of 9 miles I was beginning to look for extra miles to add onto it. This was promising news.
I counted my 9 mile run as last week's 13 mile run, so as to make last week look less shambolic.
This means I have "trained through" this week without any rest... except I broke down on Wednesday after a drive home from Norfolk, I really didn't feel like doing anything so that was a slack day and I've biked all week and not really done my pool miles either. When I was last at Fairholmes, well that was the nail in the coffin, it really was.
When I only managed a mile in the pool on Friday night, I was pretty depressed but when I looked back at my week I'd substantially overdone it on the bike, travelled half way across the country and was still churning out a mile swim in a time simiilar to last year oh, and I raced at Fairholmes which, not a lot of people can say they did.
OK. That'll do.
I was looking forwards to running today but I built up to it slowly, having an easy morning and leaving the house at 11am. Great thing about running, you can do a lot in a short period of time leaving the rest of the day free to recover.
I did rush to leave before the effects of my breakfast wore off though so I quickly plotted myself a route which constituted the 13 miles I needed to run today. I learned some of the road names in my head because I couldn't be bothered to do anything more and I promised myself I wouldn't be distracted by interesting-looking footpaths that usually end up in me going horribly out of my way and include some extent of falling-off cliffs, climbing over barbed wire fences or hacking through brambles.
Within 10 minutes I was immediately distracted by the Rivelin Valley instead of the intended Loxley Valley but I adjusted my footpath route and hacked my way through the houses on the edge of Stannington. Finally I found my way onto a footpath that dropped me down to the river in Loxley and I followed it confidently as the dog-walkers were coming the other way. At a decision point of choice between the path less trodden and river route or one which looked suspiciously like it went back to Stannington, I chose the path less trodden and cue obligatory slither up near-vertical muddy slope holding on to tree roots to prevent a plunge into the river 12 ft below. I survived, needless to say.
Over the legitimate bridge and onto the Loxley valley path, I had the chance to snap some pics inside this old industrial building which is being demolished.
Finally out at Damflask reservoir I ran on the road following my designated route religiously and enjoying the view. I stopped to take a picture of this wonderful scenery and the cows drinking from the very rustic trough.
Except the cow was more intrigued by what I had in my rucsac and came over to pose.
At the first junction I came to there was no road name but I guessed and I winged it and things were going pretty well. I seemed to be heading in the right direction.
By the next turning, things were going less well with a consistent lack of road name signs. I plumped for "Sheffield" over two places I couldn't recall seeing on the map. After a while I concluded I was heading back the way I'd come, a bit higher up and all this road would do was take me back to Damflask. Time for some random footpaths.
Straight up the hill, across, up, across, up, across, up. A pattern was forming. At least it was dry!
Finally, I reached the top of the ridge and my ticket back into the Rivelin Valley.
View over the city. This'll be the top then?
After this path, the run home was really special. I found a whole host of paths that I never knew existed, through Rails, along the fields, down into the valley-bottom. It was potentially the most successful unplanned footpaths run I have ever done and not one twinge of pain from the foot.
I have to say a massive Thank You to Colin Papworth from Holywell Health who warned me responsibly about running on the foot, recognised I would do anyway, gave me the confidence to continue my training safely and told me not to go too hard on it when I did.
I ran all the way to my front door without one stop to walk. I actually could've kept going (but I want to swim tonight so I didn't). I conclude that the cold, the sore foot, all little indicators of overload and all well timed little triggers to make me rest a little, sit back and then go out there and find out that, actually, I'm not doing too bad at this Ironman training at all. Last week I was pretty fed up that I was a bit broken. This week I feel energised and amazing.
I have only 9 weeks left which might seem like a long time but then, it seems only yesterday I started at week 1. What I have to do now is think about which bike I want to spend my bonus on. Now then...
I counted my 9 mile run as last week's 13 mile run, so as to make last week look less shambolic.
This means I have "trained through" this week without any rest... except I broke down on Wednesday after a drive home from Norfolk, I really didn't feel like doing anything so that was a slack day and I've biked all week and not really done my pool miles either. When I was last at Fairholmes, well that was the nail in the coffin, it really was.
When I only managed a mile in the pool on Friday night, I was pretty depressed but when I looked back at my week I'd substantially overdone it on the bike, travelled half way across the country and was still churning out a mile swim in a time simiilar to last year oh, and I raced at Fairholmes which, not a lot of people can say they did.
OK. That'll do.
I was looking forwards to running today but I built up to it slowly, having an easy morning and leaving the house at 11am. Great thing about running, you can do a lot in a short period of time leaving the rest of the day free to recover.
I did rush to leave before the effects of my breakfast wore off though so I quickly plotted myself a route which constituted the 13 miles I needed to run today. I learned some of the road names in my head because I couldn't be bothered to do anything more and I promised myself I wouldn't be distracted by interesting-looking footpaths that usually end up in me going horribly out of my way and include some extent of falling-off cliffs, climbing over barbed wire fences or hacking through brambles.
Within 10 minutes I was immediately distracted by the Rivelin Valley instead of the intended Loxley Valley but I adjusted my footpath route and hacked my way through the houses on the edge of Stannington. Finally I found my way onto a footpath that dropped me down to the river in Loxley and I followed it confidently as the dog-walkers were coming the other way. At a decision point of choice between the path less trodden and river route or one which looked suspiciously like it went back to Stannington, I chose the path less trodden and cue obligatory slither up near-vertical muddy slope holding on to tree roots to prevent a plunge into the river 12 ft below. I survived, needless to say.
Over the legitimate bridge and onto the Loxley valley path, I had the chance to snap some pics inside this old industrial building which is being demolished.
Finally out at Damflask reservoir I ran on the road following my designated route religiously and enjoying the view. I stopped to take a picture of this wonderful scenery and the cows drinking from the very rustic trough.
By the next turning, things were going less well with a consistent lack of road name signs. I plumped for "Sheffield" over two places I couldn't recall seeing on the map. After a while I concluded I was heading back the way I'd come, a bit higher up and all this road would do was take me back to Damflask. Time for some random footpaths.
Straight up the hill, across, up, across, up, across, up. A pattern was forming. At least it was dry!
Finally, I reached the top of the ridge and my ticket back into the Rivelin Valley.
I have to say a massive Thank You to Colin Papworth from Holywell Health who warned me responsibly about running on the foot, recognised I would do anyway, gave me the confidence to continue my training safely and told me not to go too hard on it when I did.
I ran all the way to my front door without one stop to walk. I actually could've kept going (but I want to swim tonight so I didn't). I conclude that the cold, the sore foot, all little indicators of overload and all well timed little triggers to make me rest a little, sit back and then go out there and find out that, actually, I'm not doing too bad at this Ironman training at all. Last week I was pretty fed up that I was a bit broken. This week I feel energised and amazing.
I have only 9 weeks left which might seem like a long time but then, it seems only yesterday I started at week 1. What I have to do now is think about which bike I want to spend my bonus on. Now then...
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Crisis Talks - With Myself
I had a melt down on Sunday. No big pissy fit, just dead. I was absolutely dead. I was convinced I wasn't going to be able to run more than 5 km again and I couldn't even take anything good from a really nice long bike ride on Saturday because that fell 10 miles short of the intended distance. Targets shmargets.
Yesterday I asked Andrew to remind me. Next time I have a melt down day like that, remind me that the next day is going to be absolutely frickin' awesome.
I got up early, I swam 2.7 km, I had a constructive morning at work, I went to see a house, I cycled back to work, I worked late and I cycled home fast. I organised everything for my site visit and fixed my commuter bike and I stayed up with him then went to bed at midnight having ordered a few last-minute things for my bike.
Of course I was slightly cut down to size again by the tragic events at the Boston Marathon where two bombs exploded by the finish line of the race. Aside from all the damage, destruction, death and injury, the sense of injustice that people who have committed themselves day in day out for months to strive towards this one event - for some, potentially, the zenith of their lives - can have it snatched from them by the insignificant and selfish act of another mean-minded individual (or organisation). Indiscriminantly. Unfairly. It took me a while to process the news, to deal with it on my terms. I feel for the people who are still dealing with it today. Who are facing a life living with it.
I got up late this morning but then I had a relaxed breakfast. Some days I need to take care of myself, I know this. I set off for site, stopped on the way for a run and managed almost 15 km. Fixed! My foot is mostly fixed!
There is no words to describe my relief and joy!
Looking back it seems silly to have been in such a dark place on Sunday but if I've learned anything in the last few years of training for endurance events it's that sometimes Trep needs to embrace the dark side.
I guess this blog post is here to remind me that next time, there is a light at the end of the tunnel and it's approximately 24 hours (or 4 weeks of rested foot) away. Meanwhile, I have to stop myself from over-training now that I am completely and utterly overjoyed with myself.
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