³ÉÈËÂÛ̳

Tuesday 19 February 2008

Yeeeeooooowwwohhhh! That's all I can say. 10.47 (let's be exact) miles is a long way to run when you're in pain. This time it’s the ankle.

I did something unspeakable to it while trying to run along the Thames footpath in the fading light, the other night. "Zola Budd", my athletic colleague often runs along the riverside, so I decided to give it a go.

I thought it would be inspiring to run amidst the picturesque scenery, but the reality is that the footpath between Sonning and Shiplake is so muddy, slippery and uneven that you have to keep your eyes firmly fixed on the pathway and the scenery passes you by completely.

Injury hits our marathon man.

I was flanked for a little while by seven flying swans (and a couple of excitable ducks) who flew in formation above me as though to offer some moral support, but the effect didn't last long.

Despite it being flat, the Thames proved one of the most exhausting and demoralising runs yet. And ever since then a mysterious invisible force has been sticking pins into my right ankle.

So it was with some trepidation that I set out on my planned ten miles. After three miles the ankle pain had spread all the way up my right calf and I was wondering whether I should stop.

But there's something about being in the middle of nowhere when its freezing and the dark is closing in on you that makes you want to keep on running. Gradually the pain subsided a little as the body's own natural anaesthetics kicked in.

After about seven miles, I lost the light completely and had to resort to pounding the streets of Winnersh. ( no wild animals here, just an extended family of abandonned shopping trolleys from the local Sainsburys). Amazingly, the distance didn't feel like a big issue. I was still running strongly at ten miles and felt, if anything, more relaxed.

As for the post-run experience… Yeeeeooooowwwohhhh! I seem to have completely lost the ability walk. Going downstairs is a particular challenge. The worst thing is that I'm out with my better half tonight and will be seen hobbling in public.

Is Duncan ready for the half marathon?

Two weeks to go, the end is most definitely in sight. I just have to nurse my complaining limbs to the start line and let the atmosphere take me through.

MondayÌý 18 February 2008

I decided to catch the last few minutes of sunshine with a fast three miles. When I say fast, remember, all things are relative. The idea is to try and cover the three miles as fast as possible to get some speed in my legs.

Dusk is absolutely the best time for deer spotting in the fields of Arborfield. This evening they were out in force and I inadvertantly chased an extremely large one down the lane. Its only when you get up close that you realise just how huge they can get. People pay thousands to see this kind of thing on an African safari.

Maybe it’s a boy thing, but I can judge how much I've enjoyed a training run by just how muddy I am. In fact, if I'm muddy and wet, it really makes me feel like a hard core cross country aficionado.Ìý

Not for me those high tech trainers with computer chips. The amount of puddles I splash through, they wouldn't last the week.

Thursday 14 February 2008

My esteemed colleague (you know, the one who likes to run 15 miles before breakfast) tells me he's pyramid training. I have visions of him running up and down large stone structures, closely pursued by a crowd of ancient Egyptians, but apparently it has to do with "winding down" towards the big day. He's so darn fit that he's prioiritising resting his body so that he's firing on all cylinders on March 2nd.

This colleague, ( I like to call him Zola Budd) who is so successfully making me feel like a complete amateur, has some awesome gadjetry which tells him his pace and distance during training runs.

Basically his MP3 player communicates with a computer chip in his trainers. Not only that but he can download the information onto his PC and has a complete record of all his training runs going back months. I'm sure he has graphs in the shape of perfect pyramids.

Monday 11 February 2008

Eight miles. Wahoo! Ok, so I'm not exactly Paula Radcliffe, but this does feel like a real breakthrough. This is the first time I've actually felt as though I might be able to cover the distance.

Amazingly I felt pretty relaxed throughout and managed a little sprint at the end, but it wasn't all plain sailing.

At six-and-a-half miles I had a major INJURY CRISIS. Searing pain in my right foot, which felt as though someone was ramming a hot poker into my sole.

Duncan's got a lot of work to do.

I almost stopped there and then, but I remembered what my physio had told me about the nerves in my back, so I stopped, spread my legs, bent over and stuck my behind in the air. I had to do this again a couple of times, but I was able to keep running and complete my eight miles.

Running is such a good way of exploring the place in which you live. I discovered 3 new public footpaths and a nature reserve on this run and the weather is absolutely perfect for running - cool clear and sunny. three weeks to go. Yikes.

Thursday 7 February 2008

Why do training runs always feel longer than they are? I was convinced I'd knocked off an energy-sapping, bone-jarring 'six miler' this morning around the lanes of Arborfield. (two deer…a herd of cows and an over-eager spaniel joined me for the occasion), but when I finally turned into the driveway, gasping and hobbling, I'd only managed five.

Having said that, the foot and the ankle held out, which is terrific.

I am getting slightly obsessed with mapping out my running routes on the Internet. (You need to find a site which has satelite photos, because otherwise the country lanes don't appear!)

The only problem is that the maps don't take into account the undulations in the landscape, so that if you have a route with lots of hills then the extra distance isn't taken into account.

What's fantastic is that the streets are full of people training for the Reading and Wokingham Half Marathons at the moment.

It's really motivating to see people of all ages pounding the pavements on your way home. On the downside one of my colleagues tells me that he's already completed a fifteen mile training run. He was only planning to do twelve miles but he felt "so good" that he kept on going.

A plague upon his youthful athleticism.

Wednesday 6 February 2008

Ow! Ow ow ow OW!

My foot is agony. Apparently it's phantom pain. The real damage is in my back, according to my physio. The nerve which runs from my brain to my foot is being "impinged". This also explains the pain in my hip and my ankle. Who's bright idea was this half marathon lark anyway?

Duncan gears up for the off.

I was feeling extremely positive after a sunny and exhilarating five miles down the lanes of Arborfield on Saturday. I counted two deer, five piglets, two goats, six horses, two bunnies and a rat en route.

But a brisk three miles was enough to finish me off this evening. I'll need a good three days rest to allow everything to recover before a planned six mile run on Thursday.

Let's not beat around the bush, I'm a total amateur at this and I left it too late. Seven weeks is simply not long enough to prepare the body to run 13.5 miles.

There's absolutely no room for slippage in my training schedule and it's so difficult to fit training around a busy working life.

Living in the countryside is all very well, but it makes training in the dark extremely difficult. I hate running in the morning before work. (let's face it, it's all I can do to struggle out of bed, let alone pound the pavements.)

By the time I get home from work, it's pitch black. I've taken to running round and round the local village football pitch at night, which is gloomily lit by the surrounding street lights.

Worst of all, its now public knowledge that I'm doing the half marathon which means I'm committed. I can't back out, even if I have to walk the 13.5 miles.

Secretly though, despite the pain, the exhaustion and the all-round hassle. I am loving every minute of it.