Finally managed to blag a day working from home today, so was able to get to the gym before firing up the laptop. Looked at my programme when I got there and realised – with several recent weekends away as well as a requirement to work from my Reading office more and more – that I hadn’t been fto the gym for about four weeks. I’ve missed it.
Spent 40 minutes doing cardio work on the spinning bike and treadmill, then did a good half an hour of resistance stuff, finishing with a 15-minute abs session with one of the instructors. It felt good, and I look forward to spending a bit more time there when I’ve done the Great North Run and get a few weekends to myself. Mind you, it’s addictive this race malarky: I may have allowed myself to be talked into another half-marathon in November…so running is likely to remain the major focus well beyond this weekend.
One week to go until the Great North Run, and most competitors will be tapering down their training, scoffing tonnes of pasta and making sure they get plenty of early nights. I, on the other hand, went out until the early hours with my two best friends last night in the wonderful town of Woking; consumed a couple of glasses of champagne, a glass of white wine, several glasses of red wine, five double gin and tonics, a shot of sambuca and a McDonald’s chicken burger, chips and a chocolate milkshake; got up this morning with a slightly fuzzy head; sat around in my pyjamas for a few hours; drank many cups of tea; ate a big fry-up; drove home…then decided to embark on a nine-mile run. In the rain.
As my bottle of Persil detergent states: dirt is good. I got nice and dirty around the Bath Skyline route, then tagged on another couple of miles out to Bathampton and back along the canal. And now - amazingly – I feel great. If you can face it, I maintain that a run is a terrific cure for a hangover.
Having managed only a handful of very short runs over the past couple of weeks, I needed that longer run to feel physically and psychologically ready for next weekend. Bring it on…
Ran the Theale loop this morning again: no deer, no falls. And knocked two minutes off yesterday’s time…I’m fighting fit again.
Spent some time today looking through the Great North Run race pack that I received a couple of weeks ago. I’ve done this event four or five times in the past, and it’s always phenomenally well organised, given the size of the field – in the region of 50,000 runners this year. I also checked out Runners World , a great source of info for competitors and spectators.
Even though I’ve run many half marathons before and despite the lack of preparation for this event, I’m getting really excited. I can’t help it – although I know parts of the race will be a bit painful (especially that drag uphill at mile 10) and although I’m unlikely to break the elusive two-hour barrier – I get a little shiver of excitement when I think about turning that corner at mile 12, dropping down onto the seafront for the last mile with crowds of hospitable Geordies cheering on the runners. One year, the Red Arrows did their flypast as I crossed the line, and it was just awesome. Does anyone know if they’re paying us a visit this year?
Decided to get up early this morning and do the four-mile Theale loop before work. Questioned the wisdom of this decision when I discovered, upon leaving the house, that it was dark and a bit chilly. No matter, I jogged along quite happily towards the canal – nice and slowly as it’s been well over a week since I last ran and I have been a bit sick in between times.
There are fewer fishermen in the mornings, and more birds and bunnies. Spotted two herons taking flight from the water, several rabbits, a (dead) mouse and – excitingly – a deer. He bounded off ahead of me when he saw me doing, and then dived off the canal path and into the woodland. I took my eyes of the path to see if I could see where he went, failed to see a root sticking up, tripped and fell flat on my face. That winded me for a few seconds, but I got up with no serious injuries – just a bit of skin missing from each knee and a very dirty t-shirt and shorts.
Finished the run in 41 minutes – rather slow – but not bad if you take into account my week or so off and the fact that I fell over… Not sure I feel up to running over three times that distance at the Great North Run in a week and a half’s time though.
I was hoping to get in a couple of longer runs this weekend, including at least one 10-miler which I think is pre-requisite in order to be ready for a half-marathon. Unfortunately my training was brought to an abrupt halt yesterday morning when I was struck down by the most horrendous tummy bug. 36 hours later, I’m only just about on the mend and my stomach still feels like a punchbag. I’ve managed to keep down two pieces of toast and a bowl of custard today, which is a massive improvement on yesterday. But the question of whether I will feel like running at any point this weekend is most definitely still up in the air.
The official results are out on the event website: click here. I’m relieved that I didn’t compete on Sunday, as there were even fewer female participants – although it appears that I wouldn’t have been the last out of the water on Sunday (unless their transitions were really slow).
My training regime has ground to a halt this week, although I did walk about three miles around London to get to a meeting yesterday because of the tube strike. That was nice; all too often I dive for the underground for the sake of speed(!) I remember seeing somewhere that a group of students had created a tube map with approximate walking distances between stations marked on it. Must try to find it because it’s sometimes quicker to walk than wait around.
So, lots of running planned for the weekend to kick-start the Great North Run training – interspersed with a certain amount of beer and bacon sarnie consumption of course.
Saturday started at 5am when I woke up in Eastbourne’s smallest hotel room and was unable to get back to sleep again. The hotel did have location on its side, and I was able to peek out of the curtains to view the sea conditions. I was relieved to find the water was pretty flat, with near perfect weather conditions.
I don’t really remember the drive to Seaford where the South Coast Classic Triathlon was taking place, but we managed to find the carpark, register and get our bearings around the transition area. Armgard seemed quite relaxed about the whole thing – but she had done a couple of sprint events before so was a bit more clued up about the prep. I felt slightly sick. Phil looked terrified.
Wetsuits on and several deep breaths later, we ambled reluctantly up to the beach, and the ladies competing in the Classic event were called forward for the safety briefing. As Armgard and I moved towards the marshall, I looked around to see if I could spot a few other people that might be complete beginners. It wasn’t hard to find the field of female competitors: there were just 11 other people. Now, I’ve done a couple of London marathons and seven or eight half-marathons, but they always have thousands of competitors, many of whom are beginners. Oh dear, I thought, this was a seriously stupid idea. After the safety briefing, a female group photo was taken with the mayor and his horn – to much sniggering from the boys. Then we edged towards the water.
We had to swim out from an orange buoy to a yellow one, then swim along a few hundred metres to another yellow buoy and back in diagonally to the orange marker; then do a second loop. I swam a panicky cross between front crawl and breaststroke initially, as most of the other women sped off ahead. It was choppier than it looked from the beach, and I soon realised that doing breaststroke was going to involve swallowing an awful lot of water, so forced myself to relax into a crawl as the current helped us along on the diagonal back to the first buoy. One other competitor and myself straggled along at the back of the pack, but there were a couple of marshalls in canoes nearby and it was reassuring to know they were keeping an eye on us. The second loop was a little demoralising as the men that had started 10 minutes afterwards started to lap us and head out of the water. I plodded along just behind the other girl and was hugely relieved to get back towards the beach and pleasantly shocked to see the time on my watch: just short of 27 minutes.
I hauled myself out of the water, winced as I ran across the shingle in bare feet up the beach and over into the transition area. Managed to get my wetsuit off without falling over, put my trainers, helmet and sunglasses on, took a swig of Lucozade, stuffed a few Jelly Babies in my mouth and hopped onto the bike. The cycle section was a relatively flat two-mile loop along the seafront road, and I really enjoyed powering along. For the first time, I was able to get a good look at some of the other competitors – the vast majority of whom had obviously taken their training and nutrition regime a lot more seriously than me. Disconcertingly, a lot of the men had shaved their legs – making it difficult, at times, to ascertain whether a male or female competitor was overtaking. I kept up an average speed of around 17mph, which meant I did each loop in just under 7.5 minutes. Clearly, some people were going a hell of a lot faster: I distinctly remember seeing one bottom pass me three times.
Before too much longer, it was back to the transition area to dump my bike, remove my helmet, take another swig of Lucozade and a handful of Jelly Babies – then up onto the promenade for the run. Having done a fair few running races, it was bizarre to find that they hadn’t closed the pathway to other pedestrians. So, I found myself jogging along, having to dodge other people, children and dogs – most of whom seemed completely oblivious to the lycra-clad nutters running around them. As I reached the far end of the first loop, I nearly cried when I realised I’d only run 1.25k and still had 8.75 to go. My legs were like jelly, and it was nothing to do with the sweets. But actually, the second and third loops weren’t as bad. Armgard passed me on her final lap at the end of my third, and I rather wished I was following her into the finish area. Nonetheless, I completed the last lap…and finally crossed the line. My total race time was 3:01, and I was placed ninth out of the 13 women. Not bad considering I was last out of the water.
I really enjoyed the race, and it didn’t take me long to decide that I will try the sprint distance and – with some swimming coaching – would have another go at the Classic/Olympic distance to see if I can crack three hours.
The South Coast Classic was very well organised for a small number and the marshalls were very supportive. But the event itself isn’t great for a beginner: a little more information pre-event would have helped enormously. I found it far less sociable than the marathons and half-marathons I’ve done before – I’m not sure if that was simply the size of the field or the different nature of the event. I’d also look for a more interesting course for my next tri challenge.
Sitting in my office now with a sandwich and a cup of tea, it feels like a long time ago. I feel a general sense of muscle fatigue, but no real pain points. Lucky really…I need to rack up the running miles in advance of the Great North Run in less than four weeks’ time!
