There are worse commutes in the world

Half way up Boxhill with the sun actually shining.

Pearson 150km Sportive

I've had a nice couple of weeks. Work stress has tailed off drastically as well as stuff at home so all of a sudden I have got more time on my hands than I have had in a long time. Early last week Jamie and I met up for another condor paddle which went really well. A paddle up and around the island at Elmbridge a couple of times and back through the Desborough Cut. A solid hour of  K2 paddling which we both walked away from without doing any damage to ourselves. It felt pretty darn good. :-)

Sunday was a bit more challenging. Simon had been given a couple of entries to the Pearson Sportive and asked me along. 150 kilometres of bike miles on some patchy commuting and a couple of 10 mile time trials? Oh go on then. Last time we did a sportive together Simon had basically dragged me round 90 miles while I was slumped over my handlebars trying to keep at least near his back wheel and while I knew that it would be difficult I also knew I was a lot fitter than I was that day.

It didn't start too well. We cycled the 6 miles from Simon's house to the start at the Royal Marsden Hospital, for whom the ride was raising funds for. Unfortunately we didn't make it out of the car park before Simon had a puncture. At least we were able to repair it before our timing chips were dibbed. I then realised I had left my drinks bottle in my car so I ended up stopping at a local co-op to get water and food to last me until the first aid station at halfway. Then 10 minutes later we had our heads down following a group through Banstead and descended a long hill to reach a junction at the bottom which then didn't an arrow to follow. Doh. We had taken a wrong turn so now we had to turn around and climb the hill to retrace our route. Oh well, lesson learnt. Keep a better look out for the arrows at junctions and don't rely on others. About one hour later as we made our way towards East Sussex Simon suffered another puncture, so he replaced it only to find his new tube had a faulty valve. By this time I think he was ready to throw his bike into the nearest hedge as he had now used all his spares and was starting on mine, which were patched up as well. So another 20 minutes while we sorted it. At least it was getting a bit warmer and the roads were good, so we ended up passing people that we had already past 3 or 4 times before.

I felt really very good. I was keeping a pretty good cadence and was able to take turns on the front as we basically 2-upped our way over Ditchling Beacon and into Brighton as it started to try to rain and the temperature dropped. Brighton was the only real downside to this whole event as the route takes the riders into the centre of town and along the beachfront before heading out again towards Devils Dyke. It just meant that we encountered a lot of stop-starting at traffic lights which I think would have been better avoided by missing out the town centre entirely. Nay bother, a quick break at the first aid station where I gorged myself on flapjacks, cakes and bananas before heading north and home.

More 2-upping back home, feeling comfortable but as we approached the second aid station at 75 miles I could feel my legs tightening and my energy levels dipping. I felt briefly better after the quick stop at Rusper but I soon emptied again 5 miles later and from that moment on it was pretty tough. Thank the lord for compact gearing as I just spent the next couple of hours spinning up the rises and freewheeling down the hills. Simon was really strong all day and while I was able to keep up on the flats and do my share on the front as soon as the road kicked up he was gone and would be waiting for me at the top and by the end of the ride he was still looking very fresh.

 As we rolled into the finish we had over 100 miles on the clock and with the extra cycling to and from Simon's house we completed 110 miles. A solid day's riding in anyone's book. I was really pleased with how it went and up to 80 miles was feeling pretty strong so I have to be pleased with that. With a few more miles in the bank maybe I can challenge my 10 and 25 mile tt times after all. I would recommend this event to do. It was well signposted and was a very pretty route and was not too busy, although we crossed paths with at least another 2 sportive events on the day. All in all, a grand day out.

Taking my time

I've been out of a routine for some time, except for wake up, go to work, come back from work, do a bit more work then go to bed. I've done bits here and there but not with any regularity as you can probably tell. I was meant to do the second Phoenix 10 mile tt last night but everything conspired against me, the most important of which was not having a bike. It's gone in for a service and it's turned out that it has needed a pretty major overhaul. I must have put some miles in on it at some point, but not lately.

I am running again, slowly and comfortably. I'm taking my time and ensuring that I do not muck my back up again by sticking to soft ground which is a lot easier now the sun's out and it's not constantly tipping down. The need to run a good marathon is burning brightly so I've entered the Bournemouth Marathon in October. I have 20 odd weeks so it's going to be a gradual build for 4-6 weeks before launching into a marathon schedule to build for a <3.10 marathon.

I just have not been able to get on the river in the last 2 weeks but hopefully over the weekend I can get back in a laance and meet up with the improvers' group at the Royal. Jamie and I are still threatening to go and race a Hasler if we can both get a weekend pass at the same time.

A change of place and change of pace.

I have spent the weekend trying to keep up with some A level students taking part in the 3 peaks challenge, climbing Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon in 24 hours. I did the last 2 and was a driver for the rest of it. Unfortunately they could not get to the top of Nevis as they would have to have gone well past the snow line. It was still a great thing for them to do. Legs behaved themselves but I need to get my running shoes back on next week.

London Marathon 2013

A beautiful morning for a run.

I had a little bit of a reality check the night before the marathon. It started to dawn on me that I could potentially be walking a long way the following day. Sue,who's always supported me in my shenanigans was openly concerned about my decision to run. I do tend to be too impulsive at times, and deciding only six days before to do the London Marathon and with only 4 x 40 minute runs in the proceeding 8 weeks, this was taking my impulsivity quite far. I had made the decision with the best of intentions and it was made firmly with my heart and not my head, but as it drew nearer I was getting a bit concerned with how things could pan out. My stock answer when questioned on things like this is "I know my own body." Which I do. And I knew that my back was healed but I didn't know whether it would stand the stress of 26 miles on the pavement. It would just be a case of giving it my best shot and believing everything would be OK.

On the Saturday night I got to bed early but I found myself awake at 1am, staring at the ceiling worrying about it and I didn't really get back to sleep. With some relief I found myself getting up at my six o' clock alarm to start fuelling. Sue and the kids got me to Wimbledon Station and despite South West Trains doing some major engineering works I found myself at Greenwich in under an hour, with plenty of time to kick back and relax. I ended up using the loos three times, mainly through nerves rather than over-hydration.

Hedging my bets; which pace band to use?

I should point out that when I filled in the application form I gave my estimated time as 3.10, which at that time in January was looking really good. Therefore I found myself in pen 2, right at the front of approximately 17,000 runners on the red start. Yikes.  After the thirty seconds' silence which was very moving, everyone walked forward to the start while I did my best to let as many people overtake me as possible in order that I would be with runners more around a sustainable pace for me, not that I knew what that was. I crossed the mat, hit the start button on my Garmin and mentally crossed fingers that everything would be ok.

Two, very obvious things helped. The weather and the crowd. At the start the weather was perfect with a beautiful blue sky and a cool breeze. Once again, the first six miles to the Cutty Sark went

by in a flash, with lots of drum and bass, drum bands and spectators cheering us on the way. My one and only "Oh s##t" moment came when I passed under the 5 mile banner, realising that I was now doing my longest run in two months and I still had 21 miles to go. I just pushed that to the back of my mind and carried

on taking my mind off things by making a conscious effort to look around and take in as much of the atmosphere as possible, hi-fiving as many kids as possible and enjoying the day. While my legs were playing ball I was going to enjoy myself.

As we reached halfway in around 1.40 I found myself running next to Iwan Thomas and almost simultaneously gave Denise Lewis a big shout who dutifully waved back. Two Olympians for the price of one. The crowds here were phenomenal at four or five deep all shouting and cheering us on, well Iwan on, but hey I could soak up some of it too.

I had been checking off the distance in 5 mile chunks and as I went through 15 miles I was feeling really good and pretty pleased with myself. So far, the wheels were still firmly in place and my pace was still around 8.05-8.10 minute miles. Through miles 16, 17, 18 and 19 all was still well and I started to think about upping my pace a bit. This idea was quickly put into check as I approached to 20 mile banner and within the space of half a mile I went from feeling quite bouncy to absolute no bounce at all. Ok, time for the mental games to begin. Six miles to go, that's a lap of Richmond Park, that's all. It was now that the crowds really helped, constantly encouraging, cajoling, shouting, cheering. It really was a very special thing to be a part of. And it was at this point that something really strange happened.

A few weeks ago I wrote this post about being beaten by a man dressed as a banana in 2008, and how disappointed I was that I, a 'serious' runner should face such ignominy. At 20 miles I heard the crowd shouting "Go on Bananaman." I looked round and there was a bloke dressed in a full bananaman costume. I couldn't believe it. He was really suffering but he was holding a great pace considering how hot he was. For the next six miles we swapped places although he would have gone past me comfortably if it was not for the fact that he was interviewed by Colin Jackson at the side of the road.

Those last six miles were just about keeping my steady shuffle going and not getting phased by how rugged I was feeling. Although I had been taking on fluids regularly I think my dip had a lot to do with overheating. AT 23 miles something had to give and it was a double whammy with both my hamstrings tightening up, which immediately brought me to a halt. It turned out that was the best thing that could have happened. I walked hard for a minute and used this time to eat a few jelly babies and have some water. I felt better straight away and I was able to resume my shuffle to the finish, being steadily chased down by bananman. I think I beat him by a metre or so on the line but I took the opportunity  to say well done to him as we walked through the funnel; to say I was impressed would be an understatement. I had no qualms about being beaten by him.

My final time was 3:45:26, my slowest marathon to date, but it was never about the time, it was about the finish.

My slowest marathon but my best one, by a very long way. #RunForBoston

London Marathon expo

Listening to Martin Yelling. He's saying 'not to worry because you've done the training.' Eerrrr...
And I've just realised that it looks like I am going to be beaten by the man dressed as a banana after all.
:-)

A funny kind of week

I have been all over the place this week. It started on Sunday when I took part in my first time trial of the season, the SCCU 25. Having been battered to bits the week before and with hardly any miles in the tank I knew that I could not expect very much and I approached it purely as a training ride. I started steady and stayed that way throughout. The last couple of miles were tough, riding into a direct headwind that had tears streaming from my eyes and the bike crawling along with barely any forward movement. My time of 1:11xx was a personal worst by quite a long way and I was a long way down the leaderboard. I've got to say that without the pressure of feeling that I had to do well I really enjoyed myself.

The next evening I went out for a paddle and a run. The paddle was in a llance for 45 minutes and i did a few fartlek efforts of approximately 3 minutes' duration. The last 10 minutes was a steady paddle to warm down. I had the river all to myself except for literally dozens of bats; great fun. I finished it off with a slow, easy 40 minute run into Teddington and back. I felt pretty comfortable and my back seems fully healed up. Happy days. Until, that is I got home and saw the news about the Boston Marathon, which prompted my last post. I just felt straight away that I should try to run the London Marathon as a mark of solidarity and respect. I know it's only a small thing but it's something I can do. So I'll do it. That's not to say I am not a little bit concerned as I know from past experience how far 26 miles is, but what's keeping me going is the fact that before my back stopped me I was in better running shape than I had been for years and had comfortably run 21 miles. My plan is to go out at 4 hour pace and see how it goes. If I'm feeling ok at 20 then I'll see if I can up the pace a bit, but ultimately my achievement will be to finish the race, enjoy the experience and show my respect for the people of the running community effected by the events of last week.

As if this was not going to be hard enough, there has been a slight fly in the ointment. Once again I have been fighting something off. I think it's more to do with being stressed at work and home but achy eyeballs and extreme tiredness have been the tell-tale signs, so I have been over-loading with vit-C  and getting early nights.

I will report back on how well an eight week, no running taper with excessive carbo-loading works next week.

Sod you

I wasn't going to run London. I will now. I'll walk it in 8 hours if I have to. Your way will never win. That is all.

An easy run

A couple of really hard days at home with wheezy junior doing his best to remove the lower part of his leg with, of all things, a spinning bike that had pedals on it like bear traps. He won't be climbing on one of those again to look at his squash club ladder.  :-( So a night with him in hospital while they stitched him back up has taken its toll.

Last night I was meant to meet the boys for a cheeky beer but with junior's injury, a load of diy stuff planned for the previous day didn't get done until late. By 10.30pm I had had enough and headed out the door for a 40 minute run, with my back behaving itself. Despite a simple out and back along a very unnatractive main road, the run did its job. It blew away the cobwebs and put a smile on my face. It felt good and it was good. More of them over the summer are desperately needed.

Sponsored by Walkers

90 minutes in the llance last night with a steady paddle up to Raven's Ait and back. Still just trying to keep my hands high and spearing my feet. One thing I have decided is I am buying myself a comfortable seat before too long but at the moment it's just about building up some paddle time. It is all rather ouchy at the moment.

I'm going to try to get back into some running next week. There's only so many bags of crisps that can be eaten before they start to take their toll.

Marsport Condor x3

Jamie in the blue submarine.

Jamie and I had our first paddle together in a year or so. We picked the newest, shiniest Condor available. Five metres of carbon and Kevlar lusciousness only to find after five minutes' paddling that it was rapidly turning into a submarine. Surely we're not kicking up that much splash? We turned the boat over and found a piece of duck tape on the bottom of the hull betraying where a hole was. We paddled back to the clubhouse  and tried a second, slightly more scuffed boat to find that whoever paddled it last has extremely short legs with the front footplate needing moving. OK, starting to get cold and bored now, so let's try boat number three. This condor looked like it had seen better days but at least it floated and we could fit into it, so off we went again.

Eventually we had a paddle for just under an hour. We were both feeling it by the end as we came back against the flow from the Sunbury portage with a few more twitches as our core strength deserted us, but it was a really encouraging paddle with a couple of fast bits but in the main just trying to keep a smooth cadence We are going to aim to get out on Monday nights, most likely in K1 boats in an attempt at some consistency.

Paddle run core

I spent Friday being battered to bits by Simon on the bike. We arranged to do a spin out into the hills along with another training partner of his, John, a very strong cyclist. I spent the best part of two and a half hours stationed firmly 200 metres behind them, trying to keep up. I simply couldn't. Even going downhill I couldn't stay with them and just spun the wheels over as best I could. The icing on the cake was when Simon signalled left for us to go up White Down Lane. Most of it's not too bad but it has a real sting at the top. That was my que to weave all over the road attempting to keep the bike moving forward.  I then bettered  that 30 minutes later. Right at the bottom of Juniper Hill I turned left to head back towards the foot of Boxhill. Well,  my front wheel turned left but the rest of me didn't and I ended up in a heap on the floor. Thankfully, I managed to break my fall with my left knee and hip, so all was well.  :-/  By this time, Simon and John were taking pity on me and we took the more direct way home. Wounded pride and body.

After a day's rest to recover I got up early to go for a paddle with the intention of going a bit further than Thursday's effort. I bashed my way slowly up to Raven's Ait and then freewheeled home with the flow.About 50 minutes in total with some bad patches and some good bits. There's a rec next door to the Royal so I thought I would see if the work I have been doing on my core has started to have any benefit. It was a very slow 30 minutes plodding around the rec but it didn't hurt and that's a first since February. I was a happy bunny. When I got home it was another 30 minutes of core work in front of the telly being mocked by my children.

Needless to say the run immedately got me thinking about whether I could actually go and do the London Marathon, albeit slowly. A case of me trying to run before I can walk again.

Jamie and I are meeting up for a paddle in a condor tonight, I think it's my first K2 paddle since finishing the DW last year. I am not sure what to expect. I just hope that Jamie is gentle with me.

Oh. My. Days.

Dark? Cold? Windy? must be DW training in April.

It's just as well we have a whole year before the next DW. Tonight was my first paddle in a while. A long while. It was a filthy night and I probably should have waited until the wind had dropped and for daylight, but hey, I'm a seasoned campaigner. It's nothing I can't cope with.

I was on the water for 25 minutes which was plenty enough. It was just about getting some feeling for the water and getting into a boat again. The llance felt unusually twitchy with the wind controlling my blades more than I was. I kept my stroke rate slow and focussed on spearing my feet. Just like old times.  :-/