Dress rehearsal disasters

Having decided that the Edinburgh Marathon is indeed on like Donkey Kong, I have spent the last week working on things which will contribute to me not having a completely disastrous experience during the race. With mixed success.

After a decent 10-mile run last Monday, some time on the bike and a touch rugby game on Tuesday, I went to see a podiatrist on Wednesday night to talk about my left ankle issues. He gawped at the nasty way in which I roll my ankle and ascribed the pain to me chipping away at the ball joint with every footstrike. He didn’t seem too disturbed by my plan to run Edinburgh despite terrible gaps in my training and general injury failings, but did point out that an inverse taper would be a pointless exercise, since I could do nothing to improve my fitness in just 2 ½ weeks. Quite the opposite – I risked doing myself an injury which might rule me out of the race altogether. Interesting. He made me a pair of custom orthotic insoles then and there, and I left his office satisfied though £70 poorer.

I took his advice and binned my scheduled runs for Thursday and Friday, focussing instead on the planned course recce set for Saturday with fellow Edinburgh marathoner Neil Gray. We would take the train from Edinburgh Waverley to Longniddry, a station just ½ mile from the furthest reaches of the route. From here we could run all the way back to my flat, totalling something like 14 miles, which we intended to run relatively slowly so as to get a good opportunity to explore the course.

Things went wrong from the beginning. Driving into Edinburgh, Neil’s car suffered the automotive equivalent of an enormous blood blister and left him on the side of the motorway, frantically changing the tyre. We were only half an hour late to Waverley station, but this made us feel a little thrown off our meagre plan. I had a social engagement to keep in just a few hours’ time – there was little margin for error. As the countryside flew past we realised that our route would take us a very long way indeed. Fear and doubt planted seeds in our minds.

Nothing seemed to go right. We got a bit lost just trying to get to the sea, necessitating an unplanned cross-country sprint across the fairway of Longniddry golf course, eyes to the sky in case of deadly white projectiles. When we did find the coast a cruel headwind beat us back wherever we went. In choosing routes along the sea we seemed to perpetually make the wrong call and veer down pointless diversions or on trails made of loose sand. Neil struggled in the heat whilst I cultivated an enormous pair of blisters from my new orthotics. Neither of us could get anywhere near a sense of flow or settle into a rhythm, and our complaints were exacerbated by the knowledge of one another’s problems. Things looked bleak, and got even worse when Edinburgh’s skyline appeared in the distance. The very distant distance.

Just over 8 miles in I had to make a pit-stop to swap the orthotic for a regular insole as the blister had become unbearable. The slight pain in my left ankle which was the root of my troubles had inexplicably got a hell of a lot worse. As I delved into my rucksack for the replacement insole, Neil stretched out his prematurely tired legs and finished off his water bottle, beetroot-faced and sweating. An air of resignation gradually crept over us both. We told each other that it was time to abandon the run and chalk it up to experience. Neither of us needed much convincing. An exceptionally rude bus driver took my money and we wallowed in our failure as the number 26 bore us back into the city.

Even RunKeeper seemed to be struggling – check out the route it first produced for our run:

2:46 minutes per mile. Excellent.

The corrected version is available here.

Needless to say, Neil and I were a little disheartened by this experience. We had cheerfully thrown ourselves at the course and been found sorely wanting. But as time has passed and I’ve had a little time to analyse what happened, I am less worried about my prospects for the full race. We put on a terrible dress rehearsal, which in theatreland means we can expect a great show (I acknowledge, of course, that this is marathonland and training is pretty bloody important, but shush now). From here on I’ll only be using the orthotics for short distances - as I was told to in the first place - and I’m sure Neil will have plans to address his overheating problem (hint, mate: drink more water).

10 days to 26.2.

Happy running

Dave

2012 to date: miles run - 175.5, miles biked - 52.2, metres swum - 1150, races - 2

It's on like Donkey Kong

OK, you’ve done it. At the whim of the populace, I am committing, here and now, to run the 2012 Edinburgh Marathon in 19 days’ time. Thank you for your responses, I enjoyed them all immensely. For those of you who missed out, I posed the ‘to run or not to run’ question in this blogpost, and received the following smorgasbord of advice...

Marc: Very difficult question indeed. My inclination is that you should do it, but make it about something other than the time. Find a slower friend and pace make for them, or just try to run every mile the same speed, or intervals, or something. Anything to create a 'different' challenge from running the whole caboodle as quickly as you can. You love running, and I can't see you not enjoying it some way. But BE CAREFUL.

Dave: Thank Marc, I agree with all of your points. My ‘different challenge’ might involve a run/walk strategy, I might have a go at a charity chaser challenge, or I might take my iPhone and attempt to blog live through the event. All to be decided.

Iain: As the result of playing cricket through an injury (a pain in my left hip) I am now off for (yet more) MRI scans, I would advise against running a marathon at the best of times let alone when injured!

Dave: Iain, we have been friends for about 15 years and you’ve been injured for about 14 ½ of them. As such I should probably take your advice. But I am an idiot so I won’t.

Clair: Hi Dave, Sounds like you have a 'sportsmans hernia'. I say run if it feels ok and you feel ok, but if its just going to end up causing you more pain then what have you gained from it? You've already achieved great things so if you feel like passing on this one, I don't think anyone would question your decision. If however you decide to do it (I personally would err on the side of caution) the I'm doing the half! Wave as you fly by! :)

Dave: Clair, you are ridiculously kind to write such nice things about my achievements. I have been back and forth with the NHS since November in an attempt to determine whether or not I have a hernia of any sort. The diagnosis is that I have something called a perisymphyseal oedema, which I don’t fully understand, but apparently am allowed to run on if I take an enormous pile of anti-inflammatories too. I feel OK, and I’ll run gently... Good luck with your half!

Katie: Ask yourself: What would Jedward do? Then do the opposite.

Dave: Well there goes my don’t-run-and-then-lie-about-it-afterwards plan.

J-Mac: Defer your entry until next year. No shame in that!

Dave: J-Mac, you are so wise but the Edinburgh marathon is so stingy that if I did that I would just have to pay again. They would defer my place but keep my cash, hardly an incentive in a first-come-first-served race that’s easy to access...

Latterbarrow: Do it! - with a chest infection, and knowing I had little or no chance of completing, I travelled to Yorkshire and started the Three Peaks Race. For me, the old cliche of 'taking part..' is true.. (I got three miles, spewed up, and spent the rest of the day recovering in the pub)

Dave: This is full of mixed messages. Maybe I should just go straight to the pub?

Simon Freeman: I'd echo what Marc wrote and say that if you can find another reason to run, it might be one of your favourite races. While I was flogging myself to a 2 minute PB in the London this year, my wife was studiously ignoring her PB and jogging round, enjoying the day and treating the London as a training run (with a medal at the end) for the ultras she is doing in 2012. She loved seeing a different side of the race.

Dave: Simon, you sound like a clever man. Your wife sounds even cleverer.

Training plan: a Martin Yelling inverse taper.

Race strategy: banterous chat.

Predicted finish time: absolutely yonks.

It’s on like Donkey Kong.

Happy running.

Dave

2012 to date: miles run - 164.3, miles biked - 50.2, metres swum - 750, races - 2

To run or not to run? That is my question.

Should I run the Edinburgh marathon, just three weeks away on Sunday? I cannot make this decision on my own.

For:

• It would be my 5^th marathon in three years (which is awesome).
• Loads of my friends and colleagues are running one of the events over the weekend.
• It’s local.
• I’ve paid for it.
• It’s a downhill/flat course and hence not too challenging.
• I will feel massively left out on the day if I only spectate.
• I could just jog round and enjoy it.

Against:

• I am severely under-trained. I haven’t run more than a half marathon since October.
• I am carrying two injuries; in my left ankle and in my abdomen/groin.
• I am definitely not going to get a PB, in fact I am very likely to get a PW. Possibly by a long way.
• If I do start and things get really bad, I might DNF. The shame, the shame...
• If I pig-headedly struggle through it I could exacerbate my injuries and make things worse in future.
• I could just jog round and hate it.

So I leave it up to you lot. I shall make my decision based entirely on the tone of responses written in the comments box. Over to you. Don't let me down.

Happy running

Dave

2012 to date: miles run - 150.94, miles biked: 46.2, metres swum: 750

Run like an American

Last weekend I ran the inaugural Edinburgh Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon. A lot of stuff happened and it was overall a pretty cracking event, but the main thing I took away was an observation of a stark divide between the way we plucky Brits run and the way our American cousins race. My conclusion is to do with politeness, and not in the way you might expect.

Lining up for this race at 9am on Sunday morning, and having investigated the route, I was prepared for spectator numbers to be relatively low. That’s fine with me – I’m happy to switch off and let my legs do their thing if necessary. But equally I knew I would be falling into a familiar pattern, whereby I become excessively grateful for the few spectators who do bother to show up. I end up running in a constant state of preparedness, looking for the next tiny group of spectators defiantly clapping and whooping and cheering on an otherwise empty road. I make eye contact, smile, say thank you and distribute high-fives to those who want them. I do the same for volunteers, acknowledging the vital and generous contributions of those fluorescent-clad heroes of the open road. Sometimes I find myself putting more energy into engaging with spectators than actually running.

I have to do this, because it seems that almost no-one else bothers.

I think I understand why this is – you’re in the zone, you feel like an athlete and you’re working hard on a great race. When you come across people clapping, you steel your gaze forwards, determined to look the part and be deserving of this admiration. You’ve no time for cheerful thanks or petty high-fives. You have a goddamn race to run. These spectators have no idea what you’re going through and their mere mortal clapping is just another indication of their incredibly inferior status to your god-like athletic prowess.

Or maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe you think they’re out supporting someone specific, waiting for a friend or family member to round the corner and appreciate their own personal cheering station. To acknowledge this cheering might be to misappropriate someone else’s goodwill. Maybe you feel a little embarrassed that a huge crew of people have turned up to witness your middle-of-the-pack struggle. Maybe you’re not used to praise. Maybe you’re just a slave to your natural British reserve.

Not many supporters at mile 3...

Either way, I beg you to get over yourself. Smile, say thank you, engage with another human being, and make races friendlier places to be, both for spectators and runners. This is where the Atlantic divide seems to favour the Yanks – I see Americans smiling and laughing and chatting to each other at races all the time. I could barely move a few paces in San Francisco without striking up an optimistic conversation with a total stranger.

Even the liveliest of British spectators could do with taking a leaf out of our colonial cousins’ book. The Crew Chief, whom I sent to an American finishing school in the deep south for a year in preparation for her role, is a master of US-style supporting. She whoops and hollers and engages with people like it’s going out of fashion. She puts the most fervent of British fans to shame, as even they are hampered by that awful stiff-upper-lip reserve. When I saw her during last weekend’s race I could hear her encouraging and enthusing the steely-eyed runners for several hundred yards after I had passed her, many of whom, rudely, didn’t even acknowledge her.

So run like an American. You never know, you might have more fun.

Happy running

Dave

2012 to date: miles run - 142.72, miles biked: 29.2, metres swum: 750

Guest Race Report - Berlin Half Marathon 2012

Second in the current series of guest race reports comes from notorious teacher of Maths and Dublin-obsessed marathoner Nick J Haines, whom you might remember from such blog posts as his Dublin Marathon report, that one about his wedding, the one where I explain why I signed up for Loch Ness and probably lots of others besides. I'll get out of the way and let him get on with it.

Race Report - Berlin Half Marathon 2012

The German people carry a reputation for ruthless efficiency and strictly organised fun. The Berlin Half-Marathon stood testament to this in every way.  The outstanding race expo was held at the historic Tempelhof airport- literally the whole airport- which was decommissioned in 2008 but looked like it might only have been closed for the day. The course itself looked promising to say the least and it didn’t disappoint, taking in an impressive array of Berlin’s most famous landmarks, including the Victory Column, Humbolt University, the Berliner Dom Cathedral, Checkpoint Charlie and the Brandenburg Tor, with the course actually passing through these last two.

Cool route, Click to enlarge.

Lining up for the start on the Karl-Marx-Allee we took advantage of the course’s circularity to agree amongst our small team (me, my wife, her father and her two sisters) that we would rendez-vous as the imposing  Soviet-built cinema. As we did our best to keep warm we got our first impression of the true popularity of this race: ‘33000 participants’ doesn’t mean much until you see them all squashed into one street. We also experienced the characteristically German trait of having inline skaters preparing for their race. As these loomed taller even than the typically statuesque Teutonic runners, we soon came to appreciate that the skaters needed to maintain a minimum speed and weren’t too good at stopping either. We did our best to stay out of their way.

Dave's GB vest gets about

With the handbikers and skaters out of our way, we lined up for the start. It took a long time to get over the line, and straight away our group started to split up. We hadn’t intended to stay as a five, but the densely packed field would not have made this even remotely possible. As the kilometre markers crawled slowly upwards and we checked off the sights of Berlin, it became clear why this event is so popular. The smooth roads and perfectly flat terrain made this a most enjoyable run, and it’s no surprise that the course record (58.56) is barely thirty seconds short of the world record. This year’s winner (Denis Koech, Kenya) beat the current world champion, Wilson Kiprop, in a dramatic sprint finish clocking 59.14, just one second ahead of his rival. Naturally we didn’t find any of this out until later, as we completed the course at a slightly less suicidal pace. We were, however, spurred on by the threatening words of the race literature, warning that runners who ‘appeared to be running at a pace which would not suggest a sub-three-hour finish’ would be ‘removed from the race’, and unceremoniously placed on what we could only dub the Fail Bus. The fact that none of our party were at all likely to meet such a shameful fate did little to stop us checking over our shoulders. 

Support from the locals was fantastic: I was a little conspicuous wearing Dave’s GB vest, but the only attention I got was from fellow Brits and cheerful Germans (the highlight being the cry of ‘Go make your qveen proud!). The finish was superb, the usual post-race high capped off nicely with unmistakably Berlin-trendy medals, water, bananas and, surprisingly, alcohol-free beer.

Strong finishes von den Lanes.

Would I recommend Berlin as a half-marathon destination, then? Absolutely. If you like your races flat, fast, meticulously organised and measured in kilometres then this has to be top of anyone’s list. The downsides? It was genuinely quite crowded in places, particularly at the water stations, one of which was inexplicably and almost disastrously placed at a point where the course narrows. On water stations, I can’t give unconditional support to a race which delivers water in plastic cups, even if there is warm sweet tea available too. Finally I would register also a general objection to events which give out the commemorative t-shirts at the expo rather than the finish line. But these are minor gripes. All in all it was a fantastic experience, and if you’re looking for a European city-break-race-holiday I honestly don’t think you could do a lot better.

Big thanks and congratulations are due to my team: Erin for her casual five-minute PB, Rachel for completing her first half-marathon, Jess for completing hers (she insists it was her first half, despite having done the Edinburgh marathon in 2010), and John for, under an age-weighted handicap system of his own devising, breaking the world record by over eight hours. High-fives all round!

Schöne laufen!

Thanks Nick! Another impressive run, report, and shameless disregard for my suggested 250 word limit. Coming soon, hopefully, some marathon chat from the emerald isle. 

Just as an aside, I'm running the Edinburgh Rock 'n' Roll Half on Sunday for Runner's World (though the article won't hit your shelves until early next year). I'll be sure to give you a brief scoop soonish...

Happy running

Dave

2012 to date: miles run - 127.07, miles biked: 23.4, metres swum: 750

Guest Race Report - Reading Half Marathon 2012

It is my pleasure to post the following race report, written by guest contributor and all round good egg 'Aye Aye' Jenny Mackay - did you know she runs because she just can't stop? This is the first of (hopefully) three guest race reports which will go up in the next week or so, more to follow...


Race Report - Reading Half Marathon 2012

If you like the idea of having boundless spectator support for 90% of a race, the Reading Half could well be the race for you.

Deckchairs. A highlight.

Filling in for a friend of a friend, I took a place for the 2012 Reading Half Marathon rather blindly, not knowing anything about the route, competitors, organisation or indeed the atmosphere. Arriving at the Madejski Stadium I realised the benefit of participating in a race where the start and finish are in the same place. Bustling stalls, music, food and drink and deck chairs galore. So, lots to look forward to when finishing!

The race itself got off to a nice start taking the colourful swarm of runners onto dual carriageway, bound for the town centre.The route included going through Reading University, where students banged wooden spoons on pans and sat on their sofas which they dragged onto the pavement. Onwards then to the town centre when the route almost led us to actually running inside the Oracle shopping centre. I just managed to resist the temptation to do a bit of a browse in Debenhams mid-race... Then on to residential areas of Reading with fabulously cheerful kerbside locals, before the achey part of the race heading back to the stadium.

Am I glad I did this half marathon last minute? Yes. Would I recommend it? Yes! This is an ideal race whether you’re wanting a nice training run for the London marathon or for a friendly and fun half marathon with friends.


Thanks Jenny! Coming soon, the Berlin Half Marathon and maybe even some cheeky tasty Irish marathoning action...

Happy running

Dave

2012 to date: miles run - 105.37, miles biked: 23.4, metres swum: 750

Jedward want you dead

Yes, that two-headed Irish Britain’sGotTheXFactor thing is back in the press, this time for running the Los Angeles Marathon without having done any training! With no sleep, straight off a plane and without even eating breakfast! What a jape! What heroes! They’re so cool!

No, not a jape, actually, for several reasons. Nor are they heroic, or cool.

People who run marathons without proper preparation are reckless, foolish and not deserving of attention or praise. It is an unbelievably dangerous thing to do – you have no idea how you might react to the strain. If you’re lucky, you might just aggravate an old injury or have a generally miserable time. If you’re unlucky, you could die. I’m not even joking here. What Jedward has done in such a public and stupid way could spark a series of copycat attempts, and there could genuinely be some very dire consequences. Maybe they want you dead.

What’s more, I don’t truly believe they ran it. If you, like me, are somewhat suspicious or are curious as to what time they ran in such dire circumstances, then why not search the list of finishers? Here’s the link: http://results.active.com/pages/searchform.jsp?rsID=124848. Jedward’s real names are John and Edward Grimes – you’ll find that neither of them is in there. Nor is ‘Jedward’. And there was only one Irish finisher in the entire race, a Mr Eoin Fitzpatrick who ran a respectable 3:57. Jedward are pictured in various articles running with no race numbers, the classic sign of the ‘bandit’ runner who hasn’t bothered registering but is quite happy to take advantage of all the race has to offer, paid for by everyone else. They even had the gall to accept medals at the end (again, presumably not paid for).

Grr.

 The BBC’s coverage of the story is here, the Daily Mail’s rather more extravagant take on events here.

Respect the distance, folks. Jedward is from another planet and only survived the ordeal through some sort of alien trickery, you might not get so lucky. And please don’t run as a bandit – that is the epitome of bad form.

Rant over. As you were.

Happy running

Dave

2012 to date: miles run - 88.74, miles biked: 23.4, metres swum: 750