'Open your legs!' ....oooh er missus

It's pretty chilly up here at the start

warm women at the end

07.02.2015
Day 299

Race 4 in the Surrey Cross Country League; 2 laps (5.5miles) Farthing Downs. Big hills, deep mud.

We all love a bit of encouragement when we're up to our arses in mud, and sweating like pigs in our underwear, but to hear a coach shout 'open your legs' as a crowd of comely women race past...well it all sounds a bit dodgy.
I think he was trying to stop us, fatigued as we were mid mile four, develping that knock-kneed, droopy hipped stance that comes to non-elite runners as they tire.
My new mantra 'hips high and aligned, shoulder loose and low' (thanks, Martin Yelling) ran through my head on a loop as I slipped and slid, in trail shoes rather than spikes, on the marshy cambers. Last time I ran hree, my 15mm spikes dug viciously into the ball of my foot as I gunned down the flinty hill, but I had under estimated their truly wondrous grip on wet, muddy slopes. I wasted precious seconds trying to steady myself as I skidded over on two r three occasions. I felt I was going faster than I did in December, but my Garmin at the end begged to differ. Ellie beat me again. 

Hilly, chilly and rather silly...self loathing

Sharp, cold winds make cool cloudscapes over Greenwich Park

A bit too chilly for much core/mat work

06.02.2015
Day 298
Not much going on in terms of my training seriously. I coached a Buggy Runners class of nine women and babies in Greenwich, park, cycling to and from it, then spent the afternoon cooking and the evening eating and drinking

Which does not bode well for a cross country race. That's two nights of alcohol and rich food consumed when the schedule insists on high mileage and clean eating. This fall by the wayside is not so serious, so long as it is shortlived. I just need to get through - and enjoy - a mostly indulgent weekend, then get back on to what my mother used to call 'the straight and narrow'.
Diet books often talk about how little lapses should be built into the regimen, to avoid that rather kneejerk response to the temptation of the biscuit tin (I've eaten a couple of chocolate covered shortbreads and now am well and trulybuggered, so may as well consume whole packet - that syndrome).   Shortage of sleep, quantities of alcohol and an unsatisfatory week, work wise, has tumbled me straight into a similar mindset, which has rendered me bloated and dissatisfied, still eating chocolate long after hunger was satiated, hating myself while hoovering up roasted cashews from the pre-dinner vodka-tonic-nibbles stage well after everyone has gone home...it's a dirty stinking hole of a mindset that I need to dig myself out of, and it's reaching a critical stage.
Do different, tomorrow.

Coach Ronnie waxes lyrical

Freezing day in Southwark Park.

where they appear to be refurbishing the track

05.02.2015
Day 297

Cancelled Erik this morning as I was desperate to tick to tempo running plan for Thursdays. I did four miles at between 8m/m and 8.30m/m
Buggy Runners at Southwark, two women, one brand new. 
Cycle to and from Southwark, planning a jog to Brockley to pick up train for book club tonight


Muffled up to the nines in running kit, tracksuit, bike wear and bobble hat
Jogging, running, jumping and being brisk, to store up warmth for more languid, stretchy interludes
It's easy to forget the simple fatigue that stays in the bones from birthing, feeding and all that
I bounce around, gurning at babies, dispending advice, giving garbled instructions, scanning their faces for clues

Are they bored? Is it too easy, does something hurt?
Should I ask them, when running, to step on the gas
Might they pull a muscle or fall in the dirt?
And sue me for not paying due attention and care
Am I right to try to earn a crust like this?
Aren't I too old, is this quite dignified?
Who cares what people think, it gives me a kick
To earn a living by staying outside

Unscheduled energy sappers

The day started prettily and promisingly

...but I became mired in unforeseen difficulties

04.02.2015
Day 296
An awful lot of walking in ankle-punishing boots: plus a cycle to Greenwich and back

An active day centred on friendship and doggie playdates. Whether or not many miles walked, coffee and brownies consumed and many hours spent in brisk winter temperatures, with nose dripping and hands purpled with cold contribute to overall fitness for a future 26.1 mile run is a moot point. At some stage I will have to shelve social engagements and high jinks so that the training plan on the fridge can be followed.

Wake up, butt!

03.02.2015
Day 295
Training with Erik, guilty because I was the only one and he had to get some equipment out of the van especially (above): hopscotch jumping to open out hip flexors, bicep curls, weighted squats, arm resistance bands....
Lovely morning warming activities in the snow.
Kent AC this evening, which at 4pm on a snowy February afternoon, doesn't look attractive...
(postscript: we did 1mile warm up, strides, then 1200, 800 and 6x400m, then 1 mile warm down round the park...achey now)

A light icing of snow and the unpleasant memory of corpsey fingers frozen on yesterday's bike ride was enough to make me forgo two wheels and jog up to Hillyfields instead. A bit of a guilt trip in the event, as I discovered that Erik was waiting for me and was happy to lay on a special, snowy session just for me. Gladdened by the subsequent rosiness on such a wintry day. Bumping up the activity levels while offers of work come there none is sensible in theory, but a body that's done 52 years should perhaps have more care taken of it.
Erik posited the theory, which most trainers and physios support, that the seat (literally!) of most injuries and twinges is the gluteus maximus and the rest of the arse muscles. We 'joggers' (hated word, 'non-elite runners') think we can achieve the high mileage required for marathon training without serious attempts to engage lazy glutes 
It's imperative that I click that link, and make that link between my indolent arse and the catastrophic aches and pains that I wake with every morning. If I do not address the problem of an under used posterior muscle I will be looking at injury shattering the optimism of this training year. This fact was brought hone to me following a rather gloomy warm down after the session this evening with a fellow Kent AC marathon hopeful, whose training plan has been scuppered by the re emergence of an old calf injury. If the niggle becomes proper pain on training, she will have to defer her race place.

Cold Comfort Farm

Surrey Docks Farm

 

 

02.02.2015
Day 294
Rest/recovery day, but some cross training is necessary, so cycled to Surrey Docks City Farm to leave fliers in a probably futile bid to swell Buggy Runners numbers at nearby Southwark Park. So a little under an hour's cycling, whimpering with numb-fingered cold and self pity

There's much in the media about the bogglingly unfair distribution of the world's wealth: 1% of the world's population earn more than the other 99% put together. Always ever thus? According to the economists, the income gap has never been this stark. Living in London with only eight years' worth of mortgage left to pay until I own my semi detached townhouse in a laughingly 'almost desirable' area, I am one of the lucky ones - am I in the 1%?
However, these are straitened weeks for me; trying to live on my coaching, writing and, er, dogwalking gigs alone and with no properly paid work on the horizon. Such a dearth of office work should make this year's the most assiduously followed Marathon training plan I've ever had on the fridge. However, as sod's law dictates, this lack of busyness professionally is sapping my enthusiasm for the exra curricular. This could well have been a running day, since I did not run yesterday (I don't think walking 18 miles really counts as LSR) but I feel physically affected by unemployment. All the chores, admin, and, yes, training I could be spending time on I feel too jangled to do. Life seems constrictive, symbolised by the discomfort of my too-tight trousers after a couple of weeks of ill advised 'fuelling' for unsatisfactory running. The poorer and less in demand I feel, the more moribund and hopeless. It's not just a plan on the fridge I need, it's a life coach. This was a blue Monday. Tuesday must needs be rosy and pink.

Bitter and twisted

partying last night

and a dog day afternoon

01.02.2015
Day 293
About 10 miles of walking, either with dog, or walk/running to collect/deposit dog. Hips and ankles really aching, sleep deprived and somewhat hungover

How useful is many miles of walking in place of the Sunday Long Run? Certainly 'time on your feet' is an essential training element, but as I rather ignominiously proved yesterday, the need for speed is pressing. Time is running out, there are just 9 weeks until tapering, which means my long slow run must be going up to 16 miles in this week. Today's raw, bitter wind, mostly grey skies and weariness from trudging over to Streatham to a friend's party last night (plus much prosecco and birthday cake consumed) and internal toxicity caused by ill advised gorging have resulted in a depressed, embittered mind set, which is best put to bed. Once I am in bed, however, the aching and weariness prevents me losing consciousness. What is to be done? A soundproofed cell, and absent husband and a couple of diazepam sounds attractive. Sadly, none of those solutions is available to me.