Getting ready for a 20 mile training run

I've just eased myself into a chair to write this. It took about twenty minutes.

The weather today - cold. Raining. Gale force winds. Woke up this morning and felt such a sense of heavy dread at the thought of running 20 miles in these conditions. The doors to my balcony were rattling, the wind was whistling around in my chimney and blowing debris onto the carpet and I could see the trees outside bending right over.

It took me hours to muster up the willpower to get out the door, but having taken the day off work I knew I had to do it. I ran the same old boring route around the streets of Hove to kill a few miles before heading onto the seafront. When I finally got down there it was so windy it was just ridiculous. There was a handful of other runners, all of whom smiled in a 'why the hell are we doing this' kind of way.

I was planning on doing a return route along the coast, but it soon became clear that the return leg was going to be almost impossible. The wind, which was behind me, was so strong that it nearly knocked me over at least three times and at one point I turned round just to see how bad it was, leaned into the wind and was completely supported by it. Maybe it was a bit of a cop-out but I decided instead to just keep running eastwards and then get the bus back. Thank God I took the fare with me.

At Rottingdean I headed down onto the undercliff walk and ran towards Saltdean. The waves were crashing over the barrier right on top of me, it was brilliant! This was the 13 mile point, and at this stage I still felt ok. I felt absolutely fine in fact; I was enjoying it. The surroundings were really dramatic - the sea was a sludgy green-grey and the light was that kind of eerie yellow that you get before a storm. I was listening to The Clash and there was not a single other person anywhere in sight, so I had this weird sense of being in my own film.



At the end of the path I had to head back up to the main road and run through the scenic delights of Telscombe Cliffs and Peacehaven. God those places are such dumps. Depressing rows of ugly bungalows, drab shops and pubs that look like they probably host weekly stabbing nights. Looks vaguely all right from a distance I suppose.


Hard to believe I ran all that way...

The only problem with changing my plans halfway through the run was that I didn't really know exactly where the 20 mile point would be. By the time I saw the signs for Newhaven I felt like I was literally about to die and decided to run as far as the harbour and then check my watch. (I knew that if I had run for about 4 hours, then that would be roughly 20 miles). I finally made it, looked at my watch and it said 3hrs 31 mins. I was so gutted! I had to keep on going for another half an hour. Didn't really know where to go so just carried on aimlessly back and forth along some residential roads praying for it all to be over soon. I eventually came back in the same direction and passed a bus stop. The sign was showing two buses due for Brighton - one in 4 minutes and one in 42 minutes. I bottled it and got the first. Stopped my watch, and I'd been running continually for 3 hours and 55 minutes. Got on the bus and went home.

A quick check on the map shows that I didn't run 20 miles after all, it was more like 18.5 or 19. I feel really disappointed about this. Feel like I've cheated somehow. Especially as that was my last long run before tapering. I'm now thinking - should I do it again? Will it matter that the furthest I'll have run before the day is only 19 miles?

Training this week: not good. Missed a run on Weds due to late trains and Champions League final, and on Thursday due to getting sports massage. But that was really beneficial I think. I certainly don't ache quite as much as normal.

I've had to succumb and book in at the sports injury clinic in Hove Park Villas tomorrow for some treatment. I'm in a constant state of severe discomfort at the moment and it's having a serious effect on my training. (I'm not going to say 'pain' - I can still function). But I can't sit in a chair for longer than about thirty minutes before these strange shooting pains starting going up the back of my hamstrings and up into my back. I don't know what it is, maybe a trapped nerve or something. It's a nightmare on the train on the way to and from work, because it's so crowded and there's no way I can stretch my legs out and nothing I can do except keep shifting around in my seat.

Last night did 5½ miles. Sometimes, especially lately, I get this sinking feeling when I start, because all the various aches and pains make it impossible to actually enjoy the run and it becomes a bit of a chore. I do feel really fit at the moment, in terms of endurance ability and in terms of being able to run for hours without feeling puffed out or over-exerted - so I think my fitness levels must be reasonably good, because on the long, slow runs of over three hours or more, my heartrate stays at a fairly even, moderate level. But the problem lies in the various niggles I just can't seem to shake with joints and muscles. Knees, ankles, hips, back. With every footstrike yesterday, it felt like someone was hitting my kneecaps hard with a hammer. I also developed a completely new pain on the ball of my right foot, and just above the heel on the left. Seems there's something new every time I venture out. I'm sure this is all completely normal when training for a marathon, especially at this final stage. I'm trying not to worry about it unduly, but with 20 miles to do this weekend, it's hard not to.

Once I have this 20 under my belt, I think I'll feel so much more confident.

Frustrating week. Only managed to do one training run in the week (Weds, 9 miles) due to football commitments (had to go up to Watford for the second leg of the play-off semi-final against Palace) and seriously aching knees. And then got up on Saturday for the scheduled 14 mile 'easy' long run, a precursor to next weekend's 20, but I felt really ill. Weak and jelly-legged, like I was coming down with something. So decided to put it off until the next day instead.

I hate doing my long runs on a Sunday, because then it kind of dominates the entire weekend. At least once they're out of the way on Saturday morning, I can relax a bit.

Anyway, I did the 14 miles yesterday and I really struggled. I still didn't feel quite right - not quite sure what, but my heart rate was a constant 10 bpm higher than normal, and I felt like I was having to put even more effort in whilst struggling to maintain any pace at all. It was pretty windy too.

In the end I didn't even make it to 14 miles. I got to the top of Grand Avenue, two roads from home, and I just couldn't carry on.



Probably half a mile short. I had to walk the rest of the way. Rubbish. I hope this is just a blip.