snow

Here's a diary entry I never thought I'd make:

Sunday: easy trail run in snow, 18.5 miles in 3:27:16.

This turned into a bit of an epic, but the cool thing is that I broke my long-run PR: I haven't run more than 18 miles for at least 20 years, maybe 25.

It was enough of a test of dedication to start with. The mission: to repeat last week's bring-you-to-your-knees muscle endurance workout, only this time unsupervised and solo on the track.

The workout is 5 x 300 with a scant 30-second rest between each one -- just about enough time to cram your heart back into your chest -- followed by a 3 minute break, then 8 x 200m with 100m jog between each one. I prepared myself for the ordeal; and then the snow storm rolled in.

Not to be put off, I summoned my British stiff upper lip and resolved to "just do it". An unexpected bonus: at the last minute I got a call from Arturo, one of the guys I used to run with last year. He said he was injured, but would join me for the warm-up. It was great to see him, and great to have some company for a change. Bearing in mind that it was training with him and Gabino Toledo that taught me how to "suffer like a Mexican", I shouldn't really have been surprised when, as the snow got heavier, Arturo declared he would do the workout with me, despite his painful Achilles. Halfway through the opening 300s I asked him how his leg felt, was it hurting? "Oh yes", he says, matter-of-factly..."it's painful". What can you do with these guys??

"In January this year, Wim Hof ran half a marathon (21 km) above the polar circle in Finland. He wore only a pair of shorts and no shoes. The ground (snow) temperature was 35 below. In a few months time, he'll try something along the same line on Everest's north side...."

Read more and SEE THE PICTURES of the "Dutch Iceman" here.

It's back.

The very day after I enjoyed a luscious trail run in old-style Nike Frees, a celebration of things back to normal... the iron is getting through, the legs felt good; I took it easy-ish as a compromise between the "quality versus quantity" argument -- soundly won by quality -- and the helpful suggestions of coach Bobby McGee that maybe, just maybe, given my winter of injury rehab, virus attack, basement-level serum ferritin and serious attempts to "run" in knee-deep snow and/or ankle-deep mud, it might be wise to do some of the now-despised moderate-pace runs....

yes, the very next day I sprang out of bed (well, OK, I didn't...I staggered), looked out of the window and there is was. Again. Snow. Deep snow and still falling. No., I'm not happy now. This is some kind of sick joke. Like... you couldn't get to the Pole so we'll come to you????? Enough already.

No, it's not Spring or anything, but I did manage to do my 3x12-minutes pace workout barefoot round the perimeter of the soccer fields.

There was bright sunshine and the pitches had drained well, so the only hazard were thousands of nearly-frozen goose droppings. (There is a 300-hundred strong flock that roosts there like disgruntled spectators who have invaded the pitch and refuse to leave. Come to think of it, they make the same amount of noise and mess.)

Running barefoot always perks me up. I know all the good intellectual reasons for doing it, like improving running economy, strengthening feet and ankles and so on, but really it just FEELS great. And it always gives me an emotional boost as I feel connected with a long tradition of distance runners, from Percy's boys on, who also ran barefoot as often as possible.

One good run is all it takes...then the world is suddenly a better place.

And today was the day. A five-mile time trial I had been dreading. Another key piece in coach Bobby McGee's assessment of us sub-5 milers, the instructions for this one were to go out and get steady state heart rate data. Not an average heart rate; Bobby wants to know where our heart rate settles when we are committed to good pace cruise mode.

Lately I've been feeling tired and grungy. I'm flying one day, wiped out another -- and there's no pattern to it. I gave a pint of blood on Thursday (or that's what it felt like) to fuel some tests to see if we can find out what's going on. Meanwhile, I have cut back training to just every other day, in a bid to help my recovery from whatever it is that is bugging me.

Yesterday was a late night. Having worked an evening clinic in Denver, arriving home at 10 pm with child in tow. No afternoon workout yesterday….grrrr….

QUOTE OF THE DAY
“I started to see how women think, how they have an artistic way of forming things,
like carvings, sewing, any female art… That’s what I started realizing:
that women have real important roles… I realized that women can do a lot.
Women are very capable. They have been very capable for a long time,
But it is just now that their capabilities are coming out in the open.”
~Oopik Pitsiulak
Inuit Women Artists: Voices from Cape Dorset

... the day before your first tempo run of the year, do not "prepare" by attempting to shovel, hammer and sweep clear of snow a 400m running track.

For if you do, then shall thy hamstrings moan and thy sinews even of the back be unto dire stiffness.

Well, it seemed like a simple enough task at the time. The venue for our regular assessment run was under snow, so we met to clear it. Here is coach Bobby McGee, one of the most over-qualified manual labourers you have seen, doing the pioneer/pathfinding role and scraping snow and ice away from the markings on the first lane, so we can keep a sense of direction. Here is Marci, the organizing genius of Bobby McGee's Endurance Sports, on her hands and knees with a HAMMER, breaking up ice so that I, yes big and beefy as I am (not) with hands calloused and hardened by years using a keyboard, could swing the shovel and blast a way through the pack ice.