Dog attack

There I was, minding my own business, 11 miles into a 15 mile run, when I encountered a rather unruly large black shaggy dog. Why can't owners control their dogs? There was snarling, growling, slavering; the dog was pretty horrible too!

Seriously, I was rather scared! I've been attacked before, and still bear the scar where I was bitten on the thigh. This time I felt the dogs claws on my legs, but the skin was left unbroken. Maybe at first the dog just wanted to play, but after the growling and baring of teeth, I was convinced otherwise.

Fortunately, no lasting damage has been done. I just have this souvenir of the attack, the heart rate spike of an adrenaline kick:

Still improving

I was at my peak 6 weeks before the London Marathon. I knew this because of the treadmill session I did at the gym. The next day I did the Mad March Hare 20, picked up a stomach virus, and it all went downhill from there. Although I got most of my fitness back for London, I was never quite as fit as before the Mad March Hare, a fact backed up by subsequent gym sessions.

Each time I go running I record my pace and heart rate. This gives a good indication of fitness, but unfortunately conditions are never the same. Gradient affects heartrate, as does terrain, wind speed, and temperature. I found temperature a particular problem yesterday: in 25 degrees of bright sunshine my heartrate was 5-10bpm higher than usual, and I had to drop my pace accordingly.

The great thing about gym treadmill sessions is they are all conducted under the same conditions: same temperature, wind free, and same pace and gradient: 1deg incline, 10kph (although I may have to increase the pace if my fitness continues to improve at the rate it has been).

My gym stats don't really tell me anything about potential race performance as they are run at a much slower pace. I am uncertain how treadmill performance transfers to road performance, although I gather the 1deg incline does give a similar resistance as wind resistance when running. Allowing for the generally higher temperatures in the gym compared to outside though, my pace on a 1deg treadmill does seem to compare favourably with my road pace for a given heart rate.

So where were we? Ah yes: the fitter I get, the lower my treadmill heart rate gets. Today I saw my best treadmill results so far. I'm still getting faster. Today's session was 2 or 3 beats lower than my previous best, 6 weeks before London. This should be worth 10 seconds per mile, or 4 minutes off my marathon time. Nice!

Here's the piccy:

Today's trace is in red, my previous best 12 weeks ago is in blue. (Today's cool down was a bit different to last time's, hence the quicker tail off at the end)

I hope I'm posting a similar story in 12 weeks time!

Running towards Cardiff

Sorry Cardiff, but you don't sound so glamorous as "Running towards London", but I felt a name change was needed. It may become "Running towards Boston" soon, but one thing at a time eh?


"Running towards Boston, via London, Purbrook, Brading, New Forest, Wolverhampton, Cardiff, Gosport and Stubbington" doesn't sound snappy enough to me.

My shallow tissue hurts!

My masseur Rick has retired. We shared many pleasant moments together. He would put my head back together as well as my legs. I'd go to him convinced I'd done something terrible to my soft tissues. I'd come away reinvigorated and reassured that actually it was nowhere near as bad as I'd imagined, and all was well for my continued assault on the marathon courses of the world (well London anyway). His sessions were pleasant and relaxing, and only on one occasion when I damaged my ITB, could there be anything I could describe as pain.

Rick has now retired!

I'd gone a month without a massage, and my legs were starting to tell me that I should seek pastures new and entrust my muscles to new hands. And so to the Sports Injury Clinic at my local sports centre. Whereas with Rick, I'd have a lunchtime massage and go running that evening, it was suggested that I went running at lunchtime and have an evening massage. "We go quite deep here". That was a fair observation with hindsight.

As soon as her thumbs touched my thigh, I knew I was in for a different experience. (That last sentence could be used in an entirely different type of story telling!) OUCH! Deep tissue? She wasn't kidding! I know that my hamstrings and calves were a bit tight after a month of building my mileage back up, but struth! "You'll hate me later this evening", the nice young woman with the thumbs of steel said to me as I departed.

By the time I got home the inside of my thighs were already bruised. (That last sentence could be used in an entirely different type of story telling!) I put ice on my legs as a precaution. I see why she felt running that evening might not have been a good idea.

The following day (yesterday) my legs were tender to the touch. The only visible sign was a series of small bruises down the inside of each thigh, but I was tender all over my calves and hamstrings. By the evening I was still sore, with the prospect of a very hilly 8 mile run with the running club. The run went OK, in fact my legs felt quite good, but at the end my calves felt bizarre - tingly, and feeling like stretching really wasn't a good idea. The application of more ice followed.

Today I am still very tender to touch - particular the inside of my calves - more so than yesterday. I've just been for a run, and despite my fears, my legs are still OK for running. It seems that despite the "deep tissue" massage, it's only the surface layers that are tender, and the massage has had a beneficial effect where it matters. Not sure if I want this experience every fortnight though! Some feedback may be necessary. Maybe my tissues are a little more sensitive than some?

Mr Pig presents...

Hi,
I'm Mr Pig. It seems there is a tradition on this blog of Susie blogging her shoes, so here is the latest. I am holding a Mizuno Waverider VIII. It is over 50g lighter than Susie's main training shoe, the Asics Cumulus VI, and slightly lighter than the Nike Pegasus she ran London in, so this may become her main racing (and training) shoe.

The Waverider, Cumulus and Pegasus are neutral cushioning shoes. Susie wears orthotics, which on one hand limits the choice of shoe - there don't seem to be too many suitable shoes out there - but on the other hand makes shoe choice easier - it's neutral cushioning or nothing.

Susie likes to have several shoes on the go, as it always seems that once she gets used to one shoe, they discontinue or radically alter it. The light weight of the Waverider is a definite bonus in speed terms, and with a name like that it's perfect for Windsurfin' Susie!

I hope to see you again, the next time Susie blogs some kit!
Bye for now
Mr Pig

Closing the circle

It seems this year's London marathon was the perfect race after all! Let me explain.

My training started back in November 2004 with the following:

Signed at her book signing in London, and blogged here.

Well, after that, how could I fail to do well in London!

In London, despite missing my target qualifying time by 2 minutes, I was delighted with my 3:47:07, particularly after some late illness problems.

Things got better though! The following day I learned that I'd won first prize in the www.paularadcliffe.com competition! Today I received my prize:

and to make sure you can read that:


That'll make a nice display, framed with my certificate, medal, and finish photos of myself and Paula.

The perfect end to a perfect marathon!

Emsworth-Basingstoke Charity Relay 2005

An appeal! If you are a member of a club between the Portsmouth/Emsworth/Chichester area and Basingstoke, I urge you to do the Charity Relay. This year there were only 7 teams, 3 of which were my club Victory AC. It should be more popular. It's great!

This is a fun race, the main point being to raise money for a designated charity, this year The Brittle Bone Society. The race is run from Emsworth on the south coast to Basingstoke in north Hampshire, along public footpaths, mostly The Hangers Way. Teams are of 6 people, each person running 4 legs of between 2 and 4 miles each. Everybody runs the first leg. The countryside is stunning, apart from 4 bits of urban running, which only account for 4 of the 18 legs. The urban bits are: Havant, Petersfield, Alton, Basingstoke. I did the legs through Petersfield, Alton and Basingstoke! Are my team mates trying to tell me something? Have I missed too many cross country events? At least I did get some countryside running. The steep uphill section through a head high field of rape was a particular joy! Are my team mates trying to tell me something?

Meet the Victory AC teams:

We fielded a men's team, a women's team, and a mixed team (5 men plus Sara).
After the en-masse first leg, Ruth carried on through Havant, loving every stride:

2 change-overs later, Amanda took on the challenge of the Queen Elizabeth Country Park to Buriton. At least the last bit was downhill:

Later at Petersfield, the urban specialist(!) takes over:

I then have to hand over to Marilyn at Steep (appropriate name!), but where is she? "She's in the bushes" come the replies. "MARILYN!!!!":

Our driver Malcolm, athlete in training:

Marilyn had to take on the Shoulder of Mutton Hill, a hill so steep you can touch the ground in front of you as you "run" up it. It's tricky to even walk up it! Here's Marilyn having survived the ordeal:

Later Gill runs into picturesque Selborne:

And nearing the end, Annabelle has the look of relief that her work is all done, while Gill avoids my prying lens:


It's a fantastic day out. At 6 hours of running, you get all the good bits of ultra running (there are good bits to ultra running!) without the pain - less than 10 miles of running each, broken down in nice manageable, if intense, chunks.

I have one gripe though, about the tactics of another team. We were neck and neck with one of the other men's teams and it was becoming quite a race. As we waited at Alton they suggested taking a short cut to avoid the hill into Alton. I suggested this wasn't in the spirit of the race, but their reply was that they only had 2 proper runners and the rest were fun runners - their main aim was to raise money for the charity. I think we persuaded them that they should follow the prescribed route.

I set off ahead of their runner, but he soon overtook me, going at quite a pace. I lost him, but soon came upon another of their team whom I overtook heading uphill out of Alton. After a downhill section he caught me up again as we reached the field of rape. However, he didn't follow me into the field. Then I noticed another of their team ahead of me in the crop. What was going on? I nearly caught him, but he disappeared again. I ran to the changeover, asking about the guy ahead of me, but got puzzled looks: I was ahead of them. A short while later their baton arrived but I wasn't sure who was carrying it.

I later established they were running 3 runners for each leg, each doing only about 1 mile. This was because they were only 'fun runners'. So were we not doing it for fun? They said that they always finished last and made sure they didn't get an advantage from this method, waiting if they got ahead. It kind of takes the competition element out of it though! In any case, they didn't actually finish last. We beat them, but there was a men's team who got hopelessly lost and finished well behind them.

So that explained the multiple runners, but what route was their baton taking? There's no way the guy behind me could have got the baton to the guy ahead of me. I think the baton went by road to the changeover. I know their point was to have fun and raise money, but surely that was taking things a bit too far? It would have been nice to be able to race them on equal terms!

OK, I'll get off my soap box. I had a great time. I urge you all to do this event!

DK10K

I've been away for a few days with my folks, so a few catch up postings to do. Last Wednesday May 4th (Star Wars day - I hope I don't have to explain that one!) I did the DK10K road race.

I knew nothing of this race until online pal Plodding Hippo suggested I do it, knowing that it's local to where my folks live. I enquired of PH what DK10K was and back came the reply "Dudloi" - this amused me. DK10K is the Dudley Kingswinford 10k. Dudley may conjure up an image of the industrialised Black Country with its smoke and open cast mining, but this couldn't be further from the truth. Its name actually comes from the Dudley Kingswinford Rugby Club where the race is based. It's quite a way from Dudley, located in Wall Heath, where the built up West Midlands gives way to the lush countryside of Shropshire.

The race is really well organised - the rugby club is the perfect venue with facilities aplenty. At over 1000 runners, it's the largest midweek race in the Midlands. The course undulates through some lovely countryside - completely rural. I'm in danger of sounding like a publicist at this point - it's a nice race!

I met up with Plodding Hippo before the race, and decided to run with her. I knew my pace was much quicker than hers and so this was an opportunity to save my legs for the relay race in 3 days' time (more on this in a subsequent posting) - I was in no mood for 2 full-on races so soon after the marathon. My race was spent chatting away at the back of the field - a pleasant way to spend a Wednesday evening.

Despite having chatted to PH often on the Runner's World forums (fora?), we'd never met. It was lovely to meet, chat, and put a face to a virtual pal. I enjoyed the race immensely and will definitely do it again. PH got near to her PB and didn't let any of the hilly bits stop her - not bad so soon after back to back marathons! Thanks PH for introducing me to a great race - see you in Cardiff!

Running towards Boston?

I missed the GFA (Good For Age) qualifying time in London by just 2min 7seconds. I was determined to get that time, so have entered Cardiff on October 9th with the aim of getting my precious 3:45.

Cardiff may be a few days too late to qualify for London 2006. I won't know for definite until the entry forms come out in July (or early August?). So even if I get my 3:45 time, I might still need to get through the ballot and might not be doing London 2006.

But here's a thought:

I've just found out that I've qualified for the Boston Marathon! Boston is the world's oldest marathon. It is an elite race with a qualifying standard to meet. I've met the standard: 3:50 in my case.

So if I fail to get into London, I can have a holiday in Boston and run in a race only a select few get to do. Sorted!

I know Paula wants to add Boston to her list of titles, so I might get to run alongside her (in a manner of speaking)!

ps More Paula news coming soon - there's something I've been itching to tell, but I'm waiting until it's all played out before I blog my news!

The full report

The international battle lines were drawn, and all was set for a bruising encounter. Not exactly the way I thought I'd start a marathon report! I'll elaborate as the tale unfolds.

Now let me offer my one and only excuse: it was hot OK! Good. I've got that out the way!

And now the good news and bad news: the good news is I achieved my qualifying time. The bad news is I've qualified for the London to Brighton 54 and not the Flora London Marathon!

To avoid this becoming a piecemeal report of pithy soundbite style clips, let's backtrack a little.

First bruise of the day came on the coach up to London when I stood up to let my friend Kath out of her seat. I caught my left kneecap on the fold-down tray. Ouch! Fortunately it didn't affect my day, but it's sore enough now for me to think that this could have been one of those bizarre accidents that takes you out of a marathon at the last minute. (James Cracknell and a towpath?)

We arrived at Blackheath in good time and settled down on the grass to enjoy the sun. This was going to be a warm day! Brendan Foster take note: bright sunshine is not perfect marathon weather for the majority of us, particularly if we are due to finish at the height of the day!

Having done my obligatory second toilet visit, (wouldn't want to have to crouch on the side of the road now would I?), I joined the start a good 10 minutes before the off, only to find the line was already moving forward and I was a little further back than I would have liked. Looking around, there was a big mix of pen numbers: 3,4,5, 9!!. This might take a while for everyone to settle to their pace and position!

Soon underway, and mercifully we didn't have to stop half a mile in as we did last year. As I suspected, the further forward you are (pen 4 this year, pen 6 last), the smoother your journey. Despite the slow pace of the start, not a bad thing anyway, I was already up on my pace plan!

A feature of this year's race was that I saw various international groups of, usually, 3 runners. They all had their country, in English, on their back in the same white lettering. Was this some sort of international marathon challenge, or just the same travel firm? There were teams from France, Belgium, Italy, and 2 from Portugal. At 2 miles in, I encountered the first of the international teams: Transylvania! I would have just run past them oblivious, had I not heard the shouts of "Cheeky cheeky" from the crowd. Yes! My first ever celebrity spot in a marathon: Monica and Gabriella - the Cheeky Girls!

Fun was had as the blue and red starts merged at 3 miles: the traditional booing! I don't know if this is just human nature, booing the other runners on the other side of the barrier, or whether the old lags initiate what is now something of a tradition. Whichever it is, it's quite funny and causes some puzzled looks on the faces of the FLM virgins.

I was relieved that my pace seemed relaxed and I was very comfortable at 8:15/mile. My heart rate, as ever in London, was a little higher than usual for that pace. I knew this would be the case, but cracked on, knowing that a) I was no higher HR-wise than last year and b) I had to stick to my pace plan, if I was to get the 3:45 qualifying target.

I spotted someone wearing the same outfit as me. For the men reading this, I should perhaps explain that when we go running we pick an outfit. We don't just smell the laundry bag and wear whatever we think we can get away with. For me, this was a Nike crop-top, a la Paula, in Victory AC colours, printed up with the club name and ship logo, and topped off with 'Susie' in silver letters. I was wearing the matching lycra shorts, not briefs 'a la Paula' but the sort that cover the thigh. I was to discover later that there are practical benefits to running briefs, but I fortunately didn't get any stomach cramps! The lady ahead of me was wearing the identical shorts and top, minus lettering. I complimented her on her fine taste, and established that she too was aiming for 3:45. I wanted to avoid running with anyone, as I wanted to run my own pace, and also not waste energy chatting, which those who know me probably appreciate could be major energy expenditure. I wished her good luck and pushed on.

Team Portugal 1 was now in my sights as we neared Cutty Sark. Fortunately there was plenty of room to get round them. People running together really bug me, as they tend to block your path making it difficult to run round them. They should run in single file! UKAA rule change maybe?

Cutty Sark was much easier this year, the crowd being thinner in the rarefied atmosphere of the sub-8:30/mile brigade. I had much less delay than I budgeted for. Quids in! I was now nearly a minute inside my pace plan. Lots of jostling though, as we all tried to stick to the blue line. This was a physical marathon!

I like a good moan. This year, apart from formation running, there was very little to moan about. I had a great time! Allow me then, to vent my spleen at the mobile phone users. I know it's probably very useful for the spectators to know where you are, but spare us the race commentary! I heard this classic: "I'm coming up to mile 9. Yes, I'm taking it fairly easy, otherwise I'd be up with the leaders." - !!!!!!!!

10 miles arrived, as it usually does, at the 10 mile marker, and as I had done continually in training, I broke my 10-mile PB. I guess I need to race 10-milers a bit more often!

Next milestone was Tower Bridge, magnificent as ever, and then we wound on to the first of the new course variations as we joined the right hand side of 'The Highway' heading for Wapping. This was an unexpected milestone. On the other side of the road was the new section heading north of the Tower of London and there were the leaders of the men's race! For the first time ever in the London Marathon, I had reached the crossover point before the elite men! There was a huge roar as I watched the leader, who I didn't recognise, but later found out was Martin Lel, go by. I recognised Paul Tergat, but was surprised to see he was out of touch with the lead in maybe 6th place. I would have recognised Jon Brown, but didn't spot him. What struck me about the elite runners was the huge gap between the first group and the rest of the field. There was a trickle of elite women tail-enders, but very few men until the pack a long way back. It doesn't appear obvious from the results, but by the road side the professionals appeared to be literally streets ahead of the club runners.

It was around now that we discovered Paula had won in 2:17: what I knew to be a women-only world record. The mood this time was different to the cheering of 2 years ago. This time we had knowing nods of approval. A "job done" attitude, rather than frantic adulation!

Another milestone at half way as I took nearly 3 minutes off my half marathon PB - see previous comment about frequency of races!

As we neared the next water station, another limb copped it. I got elbowed rather hard in my right forearm. I meekly apologised, and then, realising the insanity of apologising for getting hurt, let out a loud "Owww!". No apology was forthcoming! It's now rather sore!

Another minor moan: Why put the signs "Showers ahead" on the opposite side of the road, implying that the showers are on that side. I missed the first lot of showers, in the Surrey Quays, because of this. Now I was more prepared. I ran through the second showers - a tunnel with rows of sprinklers - giving blessed relief from the heat. It's lovely! I just wish they had them every mile. So refreshing!

We now headed towards the Isle of Dogs - I will resist the temptation to use the "I love dogs" joke from last year. I now had to overtake the country of France. In the narrow lanes here, having 3 people abreast, blocking the way, was a bit much. Fortunately they all decided to irrigate the brickwork, rather bizarrely without breaking formation. What is it with men and peeing in public? (I just know you are thinking the name Paula at this point - stop it!)

As we headed down into the tunnel onto the Isle of Dogs, another limb copped it, this time though it was my GPS on my left wrist which took the force of the guys elbow. The impact broke the pin holding it onto the strap, so that it was now flapping loosely, held by the other pin. I wondered whether to take it off. I feared I might lose it. I knew it was fairly useless around Canary Wharf, but figured it would be of some use in the rest of the race. Wrong! At one point it read 1:20/mile, enough to catch Paula up if not for the fact that she'd already finished. With hindsight I should have stowed it in the pouch of my bottle belt.

We were now heading towards mile 17 and the Runner's World support point. There would be loads of folks I knew on-line, but how would I know who they are and how would they spot me? I knew that 'lp' (Lindy) had lots of bright red hair, so kept my eyes pealed. Towards the end of the long line, there she was! "Lindy!! Susie" I shouted like a mad thing. She spotted me. Contact was made. It was a brief encounter, but it seemed to matter to me. A virtual pal became flesh and blood in a brief glimpse. Sweet!

Things were now getting serious. I was ahead of the pace plan still, but I sensed that it was becoming a struggle. My GPS gave no clue, but I was having difficulty keeping my heart rate up, so knew I was dropping off the pace. Mile 19 took me 9 minutes, which surprised me. "Push Susie! How much do you want this? Push!"

Mile 20 came up a mere 1 second behind plan. With an 8:37 for the mile I was still OK, but I was starting to struggle. Would the crowd lift me back onto pace like last year?

No!

I think last year I still had reserves which just needed unlocking. This year, I needed an extra 30 seconds/mile and it simply wasn't there. Even the sight of James Cracknell at Blackfriars didn't lift me. "James!" I got eye contact!! "You really should be running this you know!" Possibly a bit harsh considering the guy was on crutches!

Time was slipping away from me as we emerged from Blackfriars tunnel. My final miles were going to have to be faster than 8:00/mile to rescue my qualifying time. I was determined to keep pushing, but knew that only a miracle would save me.

Then the miracle happened! The lady with the same outfit, and the 3:45 target ran past me at what seemed like the required pace. If only I can hang on to her, I'll do it. I summoned my reserves and managed to stick with her for a while. With a big effort, I still only managed a 9-minute mile at the 24 mile marker. I let her go. I kept pushing, giving my best, but realised that 3:45 was not on. Good-taste-lady would have got very close to the mark, but I suspect she missed it too. I hope she wasn't just seconds outside it; that would have been awful.

A shock for me as we neared Big Ben. I passed my friend and club-mate Alex - the pink fairy (cute!). He's a quality runner so clearly was having a total nightmare. I tried to pull him along, shouting encouragement, but realised he was spent. Poor guy! An awful lot of my clubmates had bad days. I suspect the heat may have been a major factor.

I pushed on as best I could, still determined to give my best, and soon I was rounding the corner by Buckingham Palace into the Mall. No sprint finish this year, but a job well done. Don't laugh, but I wanted to make sure I pressed my stopwatch button on the line to get a true time. Trouble was I did that last year, and the finish line photo was me gurning at my watch - awful! I had resolved beforehand to remember to take off my watch so that I could stop it with my arms outstretched in classic pose. I had the presence of mind to undo my watch as I raced down the Mall. Finger on stop button. Arms outstretched. Here comes the line. Remember to smile for the camera. Bingo! Job's a good'un. 3:47:07. A huge PB by over 18 minutes. Bloody good effort!

I marched straight off to the Parkinson's reception on the Strand. Hot shower. Fantastic! Massage. Lovely! Lasagne. Magic! This is FLM in style. I rejoined my friends back at Horseguards Parade ready for the coach home. Lots of war stories, but generally a good day had by all.

Now how the hell did I get the graze and 2 bruises on my right knee?