Nice, Italy, Bath... next we take Manchester! (well, we'll try, anyway)

Over a month and a half of blogging silence? After nobody had actually read the previous post – meaning it’s been more like a three-month silence? Wowzer… Aren’t you the lucky ones!!! Does it count for anything that I’ve had loads of great ideas for posts – just not written owt down?

OK, fair dos. Well, let’s see if I can knock out a quick’un!

Indeed, speed is big on my mind right now. In eleven days’ time I’ll be lining up for the 2014 Greater Manchester Marathon, returning to the starting line in the shadow of Old Trafford where I lost my virginity, marathonining-speaking. As to where exactly I’ll be lining up… well, as things stand I’ve got a choice of pens, what with having signed up twice and all that. Hopefully the organisers will…

…what’s that? Huh? Who said that?

Why – you’ve not heard? Where have you been, my friend?

Look - it's easily done...

Aye – twice. In early January, having received yet another e-mail reminder about the upcoming increase in prices, I searched for my confirmation e-mail. I was under no doubt that I’d long signed up by then and didn’t expect the organisers to be segmenting their e-mail campaign to remove addresses of registered 2014 runners (much as the marketer in me would have obviously done so). However, upon finding no evidence that I had signed up…

…well you would, wouldn’t you???

So there you have it: I’ve signed up twice. I’ve since written to those awesome folk at Xtra Mile Events to try and at least defer one of the two entries. This would mean I’d have signed up for 2015 prior to running 2014: crazy, but not quite as bad as paying twice to run one race! I could then spend 26.2mi worrying about not having yet booked a hotel for twelve months down the line, what with not knowing the date and all that… Well, it’d keep my mind off the running!

Mind you, if things go according to plan… keeping my mind off running won’t be a concern!

Any excuse to use this photo, taken after
last year's High Peak 40 Challenge, when Mike
(to my right) and I ran together for 498 minutes.
Should be fewer on April 6...

Remember Mike – the chap with whom I ran HP40 last September? Well, Mike and I are threatening to run together and shooting for a time that for me would represent an 11’ PB. He’s worried about not having done enough long runs, I’m worried about not having done mine at any great pace… so, between us, we’re in a formidable position to shoot for… well, a good time. And the crazy thing is that, between us, we could just pull it off…

…Mike’s already been setting PBs all over the place this year – notably in Gainsborough (38’53” 10k) and Wilmslow (1:26’04” HM). I’ve set PBs in my last three formal, recorded events, Wyvern Christmas Cracker 10k, Little Stoke parkrun 5k (which is not a race!) and the Bath Half. As you can see, I genuinely don’t race much: and, but for some pesky Autumn Halves that were too close (and hilly) to the longer stuff, I could include HP40 and Chester Marathon in that #pbstreak, too… Indeed, the only three races ever where I’ve not set a PB were my three official Autumn 2013 Half Marathons: what with HP40 (and fish&chips) before Bristol, Chester before Weston-super-Mare and (familiar) hills all around Portishead a fortnight after the marathon, I was never going to PB in those…

…of course, my PBs aren’t as sharp as Mike’s. And my long runs might have impressed Stravaland for sheer craziness (anyone for a 4:30am wint’ry run?), but certainly not for speed. I just keep telling myself that the fact that I set off on my long runs in a cloak of darkness, untapered, with around five hours’ sleep and not after proper carbloading, and inevitably having to tackle hillage that I won’t find in Manchester with its tiddly 177ft of elevation, means I will be able to find another gear come race day. I think that’s a defendable comment, in spite of what happened with the Bath Half. Trouble is… it’s three more gears I need to find!
My training runs have been around the 9’/mi mark. And the body gets used to whatever pace you set it in training, don’t you know. No matter how many miles under your gel belt (not that I use one), speed is not something you can just flick on and off. Hence more speedwork and more tempo runs in recent weeks for me: it’s a change I should have made earlier but kept putting off. But now that I’ve discovered the pain of pyramid sessions… well, I’ll be sticking with it!

Oh – you want to know what happened with the Bath Half? Why, I’ll tell you: I set a PB . But here’s the thing…

…on February 14, I’d run a 1:34’07” training half in Italy. I was paying my parents a visit after spending four intense days in Nice for work and hooked up with my good running buddy (and lifelong friend) Michele. Because we’d not agreed on a distance, and because I needed some miles to keep my mind afresh and burn off some of the lovely food that was being served up at the conference I was running (sorry – no pun intended), I’d clocked 54.92mi in the five days between the Sunday when I landed in Nice and the Thursday when I left it. Upon doing so, I spent five hours on a coach and then a train (way too many!) and four hours (never enough!!!) in the evening with my very good friends Matteo, Amy and Filippo, only getting to bed around 1am. Too much food throughout the conference, some alcohol, little sleep and daily mileage levels of 15.0, 6.3, 13.3, 10.0 and 10.2 in the five days building up to what I wanted to be a fast HM… it’s not exactly textbook, is it? And yet…

…not only did I run a 1:34’07” half but, after a five minute break, we agreed to run another one. I needed some persuading, but not as much as any sane person would. It wasn’t another fast half, no: just another half. A hilly one this time. Took us 2:05’44”, although overall elapsed time was 2:22’18”: some of those seventeen minutes were spent looking out onto the Med at the halfway mark, some taking in fluids and just giving the legs a rest by yours truly. I think I’d earnt it…

Anyway – that was Italy on February 14. After that, I thought I had a shot at shaving 247” off my first HM time through tapering, dieting, sleeping, with an extra push from race adrenaline and all that good stuff. As it happens, on the day I clocked 1:32’18”: a PB, a great time, yet confoundingly only 109” faster than my run with Michele. “With Michele” is one reason: I had no pacer in Bath. And Bath was hillier, too: ignore what Strava says about the hillage in Italy, that 3,176ft is a load of rubbish caused by having run at the foot of mountains and the satellites occasionally thinking I was halfway up them! Anyway, in summary…

…I was delighted with my new PB. In 2013 I’d run the Bath in 1:35’54”, so knocking off 3’36” was great. On race morning I told a few people I felt I’d end up missing out on my sub-90’ goal by a couple of minutes and was proven right. Maybe we know our bodies better than we reckon after all. What I can’t fathom is the extent to which tapering and changing diet really impacts my performance. Or maybe with Michele there I’d have gone sub-90’. Who knows? Well, not me – and that’s the challenge. Figuring out what works and what doesn’t. Because I’ll make the sacrifices, that’s not a problem: I will give up caffeine, sweets and alcohol, I will run less, I will sleep more. I’ve just got to figure out which sacrifices to make, safe in the knowledge that different things work for different folk.

As if by magic, whilst looking for last year’s Bath blog post I came across this, written on March 26 – almost a year to the day from now but over four weeks out from Greater Manchester, which this year takes place at the start of April and is thus just a week and a bit away:

Lest I forget, of course, my initial target was to run a marathon in under four hours. That alone, for someone who’s never run 26.2mi, would be some achievement – something of which I must not lose sight. It is only because of the sheer volume of training I’ve been able to put in and because of some encouraging results along the way that I moved my target finish time to 3h45’ and then 3h30’. Every time that target has been lowered by 15’, the required pace per mile has gone down by 30”. So, from 9’/mi, I went to 8’30”/mi and am now effectively targeting 8’/mi. Is that sensible, when only last Tuesday I ran 22.1mi at a pace of 8’36”/mi and only this morning I ran 23.2mi at 8’43”? Am I really going to be able to shave off 43”/mi?

Truth is, I don’t know. The past few weeks also featured 1,000+ feet of elevation, which I won’t encounter in Manchester. I’ve been setting off before 6am, which, whilst practical, can’t be ideal for my body. Although it has meant lower dehydration levels… there are parts of this here country covered in snow right now, surely it can’t last till April?

No small detail, however, is that even this morning, on my longest run yet, I ran three fewer miles than I will do in 33 days’ time: and, when I do have to run miles 24, 25 and 26, they will be a darn sight more challenging than any of miles 1 to 23! (Or is the “uphill finale” I encounter when running around here acting as a good simulator for the pain of those final marathon miles? Discuss)

See, I ran 23.2mi on Friday, as well… at 8’55”, let alone 8’43”! Hillier route, granted – but then if we’re talking sub-3:20’ we’re talking 7’37” miling – that’s 66’/mi faster than Friday! I ultimately averaged 8’05”/mi in Manchester last year, so I did shave 39”/mi off my longest pre-race run… but… 66”?

As always, it will come down to what happens on the day. All I can do is give myself a shot at it. In the past (notably four months before my first ever race, in May 2012), people’s negativity has spurred me on. But I’m now at a stage where it’s positivity than allows me to dream, to aim for goals that the stats don’t necessarily support. And two people have said things that give me hope for Manchester.

There’s Mike. There usually is. He thinks we can achieve sub-3:20’ together. Now Mike’s a hopeless enthusiast, that much is true: but he’s also a realist. He encourages people to hit achievable goals: encourages and typically paces, too. But he’s never run anyone into the ground, much as I wasn’t far off last September. All the more for having seen me struggle and come back, I know he wouldn’t talk about 3:20’ for me if it were beyond the realms of possibility: not least when he’s talking about going for it together…

…and then there’s Dad. As I’ve mentioned a few times, Dad ran three marathons in days gone by, with a 4:30summat PB. I doubt there are many 11” 100m runners who went on to tackle the 26.2 later in life, primarily because I doubt there are many 11” 100m runners! When I texted him after Chester (3:31’03”), he boldly texted back that I could go under 3:20’. Which really shocked me. He hardly ever responds to my texts!
As for his prediction…

…firstly, my Dad’s most definitely a realist. His glasses have never been rose-tinted in terms of my potential – or owt else, to be honest. I say that gratefully: I’ve never felt under any pressure when doing sport. Even when I despised running with him, it wasn’t due to pressure (something I made clear long before splashing out on running shoes of my own): running just bored me to death! The flip side is that, if he reckons I can hit 3h20’… well, he means it.

In their different ways, Mike and Dad have both commented on my training. Well, who hasn’t? There’s a lot on which to comment, although ultimately it comes down to: “You don’t train. You just run a lot”. In fact… yeah, that’s pretty much what my Dad said, verbatim. Not unlike what Tim’s repeatedly told me. Pretty much what Mike (another 3,000+mi/yr runner, mind) means when pushing the idea of speedwork. And… well, not unlike what I realise, either. I’m not entirely stupid. Although that begs the question as… hmmm, let’s leave that for now.

Anyway – I have been trying to remedy the error of my ways. I am proud to have run a hundred halves in 2013: it’s something I can look back upon, smile and gloat about, not least to non-runners. Because they will be bowled over, whereas runners will ask poignant and sensible questions such as “What was the point? What did you achieve? What’s your PB?”. And, whilst my 2013 best of 1:33’44” was a good’un (not least because I set it in Sheffield, crossing the line at Don Valley Stadium – an honour and a privilege runners will no longer enjoy), it was not in the same league as running a hundred of the darn things. I managed something different through quantity, not quality.

Anyway… as it happens, I ran a half this morning… my last one before Manchester! And only my fifth one of 2014, after one on January 2, the two in Italy and Bath itself. In fact… well those two were really one marathon, right? So make that my second training HM of the year, all the others having been under 10.2 or over 15mi. So far so good with my New Year’s Resolution..!

One might argue that one should not be running 13.1mi eleven days ahead of a marathon. One may indeed argue many things about the art of tapering: it is one that I have yet to master and probably never will. Because it’s counterintuitive, is tapering: your mind is asking your legs not to run, or to run slower, to save energy for race day. But at the same time the legs want to get out there, and the mind is concerned that the belly will grow – a little maybe, but enough to be noticeable come race day. Why cart around an extra couple of pounds you could otherwise leave for collection at the end (in the shape of cakes and beer)?

What if, why, maybe… tapering is tough. I like to think I’m getting better at it: there will certainly be no more double-digit runs until April 6 now, and most of the runs left will be comfortable runs. Maybe today wasn’t the wisest of runs for the legs. But here’s the thing: it’s not just about the legs. It’s about the mind, too. Legs and mind have to work together. And today was about the mind.

Ten days before last year’s race, I went out and ran 16.2mi: exactly ten less than I’d run on marathon day, having never previously run 26.2. I did so up and down along a flat stretch of road: I wanted to test my pace over a meaningful but not excruciating distance. I averaged 7’46”: 7’37” over the first eight, 7’55” over the second half. Cometh Manchester, with those final few miles for which no training run can really prepare you, I averaged 8’05”.

So, today I went out there aiming for thirteen sub-7’35” miles. Same stretch of road but now with eight 26.2+ milers behind me: at least the mind knows what to expect. Thirteen’s a good number for running, I find… The average was secondary: I wanted to hit that pace mile after mile. Which is how I actually go about pacing myself in races: I never look at the overall time, least not till the final mile or so. All I ever look at is my pace, knowing that, if I hit it consistently, I’ll hit my overall goal. And I know that I struggle to pick the pace back up once I let it slip, at least in the solitary darkness of training. At least in races there’s a crowd and those kids holding out their hands to get me going again… sometimes.

What happened? After a .49mi warm-up and ahead of a leisurely .66mi cool-down, a training run that had me as nervous as most races beforehand looked like this:

I looked happy enough last year..!
(3:31'18", should you need reminding)

01. 7'27"

02. 7'23"

03. 7'27"

04. 7'27"

05. 7'30"

06. 7'29"

07. 7'28"

08. 7'31"

09. 7'31"

10. 7'32"

11. 7'32"

12. 7'31"

13. 7'30"

Mission accomplished. A few miles in I tried to revise my target to sub-7’30”: according to my Garmin during the run, I only went over by a second on a couple of occasions. But that required some accelerating during the final 0.2mi (as did a few other miles): I guess once the watch had a chance to ponder over things it caught me out! Accelerate at the end, struggle at the start of the next mile, accelerate… so no, not the impeccable pacing those numbers in isolation may suggest! But I did average 7’29”… nicely within the 7’38” required for 3:19’59”… just over only half the distance! But, whereas last year my pace slowed by 18” over the second half of the run, only four seconds separate my average over the first seven miles (7’27”) and the last six (7’31”), with that last batch still four seconds within my target for the session. That’s kind of somewhat encouraging… somewhere between encouraging and meaningless, anyway. Don’t ask me exactly where.

So – that’s what happened. As for what will happen come April 6…

Ain’t got a clue. I have a training plan, which is homemade and which I’m tinkering with as I go along; and I have the knowledge that I’ve put in the work. 3:19’59” sounds ambitious for someone with a 3:31’ PB: but the Running For Fitness calculator reckons a 1:32’18” HM runner should manage a 3:13’ marathon, just as it reckons a 20’27” parkrunner should get round 26.2mi in 3:15’… Now, if statistics are damn lies, what are predictions? A load of all testicles, quite probably. They’re certainly not something I’m going to get hung up on…

…I’m going to go out there and give it my best shot. And I’ll do so with Mike (whose PB suggest far greater marathon times) by my side. If either one of us blows out, the other must carry on regardless, for everybody’s sake: that’s something we agreed on some time back. March 3, to be precise. To miss out yourself is one thing: to be burdened by impacting someone else’s race… we can both do without that. This ain’t parkrun, where you can set things right a week down the road. This is a marathon: the longest distance over which times truly count. Ultras… they’re just fun.

So we’ll go out there and we’ll give it a go. Exactly what we’re giving a go I honestly don’t know: and I’ve asked Mike not to tell me. He’s prepared a detailed schedule, the sight of which I would probably find overburdening: I might be a 1:32’18” HM runner, but the boy Wells covers 13.1mi in 1:26’04”. And, in our world, 6’14” is an awfully long time… heck, it’s almost a mile! So Mike can do all the complex pacing calcs: I’ll just tag along. For as long as I can. Hoping that the worst case scenario is still sub 3:30’ but aware that it might not be.

What’s the worst that can happen? It’s only a run, at the end of the day. Well, at 9am – but you know what I mean. And I’ve seen plenty of runners do better than me for not worrying and whittling as much as I do. From behind, of course: in their slipstream. This doesn’t mean I won’t take things seriously. It just means I’ll take them seriously with a smile. And I won’t worry as to whether one nut too many has come out of the jar when I’ve poured a snack into my hand. Besides, all’s well that’s run with Wells.

I’ve put in 741.67mi this year. I’ve put in 2,914.45mi since I ran Manchester 2013 – and that was only 332 days ago, as they’ve brought the race forward by three weeks. I’ve done the hard work, the studying, the whittling: now the time has come to just… well, follow someone else. At the cost of oversimplifying, of course. But it’s a great feeling to know I’m not chasing this rainbow on my own: and I can but hope that, en route to that pot of gold, I will be able to do my bit for Mike, too. As long as it only involves nodding: I might have chatted away during HP40, but I’ll need all the breath I can muster along the streets of Altrincham. Heck, if we pull it off you won’t be able to shut me up afterwards.

And don’t worry: I won’t be running double-figure now distances till April 6, when I’ll run 26.2mi. With a mixture of meticulous preparation and foolhardy recklessness that really appeals to me. Rock and roll running: for all the rehearsals and preparations, it’s all about what happens when you take to the stage…Showtime is 9:00, April 6. Till then, stay hard, stay hungry and stay alive, if you can. And meet me in a dream of this hard land.

p.s.: I was meant to be in Birmingham for work on Tuesday 08/04. The venue for that meeting has been moved to Sheffield. Oh, how unfortunate that I’ll now be spending the Sunday night and all of Monday in God’s Own County when I was originally set to come back Darn Saath, head up to Birmingham on the Monday evening, home late Tuesday… what hasn’t changed is that I’ll be in That London on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday before heading back to The Big Smoke on Sunday to watch the Mighty Blades at Wem-ber-leee, Wem-ber-leee… on the day of the London Marathon. Just as well I didn’t get in! There’s a London Marathon every year, but United at Wembley… that is a treat. We don’t get to suffer and be disappointed in such a magnificent venue every year – and it’s been almost two years since last time!