Genius

OK, let's just admit this now: I'm now officially better at running than I am at blogging. Weird. I never thought that would happen.

I've been in an odd hiatus, I can't really explain it, but basically, it's been a lot like when you stop running, during a run. It's really hard to restart. I can vouch for this. In fact, I asked Sal about it, in pre-Hastings fear, while gathering tips, and practice, about hills.

Just to backtrack a little (how many running jokes can I work in here?), what happened was, I finished the Hastings Half Marathon. I didn't do as much training for it as I did for Peterborough, and I guess I am a little embarrassed about that. (I'll cover race day in the next one.) Maybe the lack of blogging was symptomatic of it. And it was a weird thing, I chose running as a "hook" to angle the blog, and obviously I mainly just ramble, but without the focus, I struggled to even know what to ramble about.

Anyway, acute laryngitis struck me dumb 2 days ago (more on this later) and perhaps my burning need to communicate has pushed me back on here. Whatever it takes, eh?

So, you got the gist, I was doing some runs, here and there. I got a cold, and gave myself a week to get over it, following the wisdom of Sal; and then suddenly realised, as the week slid into a week and a half, that I suddenly had less than 4 weeks to train. This scared me. Pre-cold, I had attempted to do some hill-training, which I did by visiting my parents in Sydenham Hill, south London. Outside the station, which is about 5 minutes from their house, there is a pathway that runs through some ancient woodland. It is pretty much vertical. I jogged up to about midway, where it is just a slope (Everest, in Peterborough terms) and at that point, it becomes much steeper. It is also longer than the slope up to the Parkway, at Peterborough Embankment, so I judged that 5-6 repeats would be a good start. This almost killed me. Now, slopes are notoriously difficult to capture on camera, but I kid you not, the top half of the hill is STEEP. My heart rate hit about 84 by the time I was done.

I'm sure it was good for me. But, as my parents will be the first to confirm, I don't go and see them anywhere LIKE enough. And that was weeks before the race, way before the cold hit. So, a classic case of Too little, too early. Or something.

Anyway, in the pre-race complete panic, I broke down and asked Sal for help. You may recall that I decided to fly solo for this one. She invited me out to Stilton to run up some hills - with her. This was very generous of her, and of course, completely terrifying for me. Needless to say, I was not reassured by her claim that she is a very slow runner. For the simple reason that she first told me this apologetically when explaining that her personal best in a half marathon was "only 1h 43". (I think). However, I wasn't in a position to be ducking out. Anything I could do to help was all good. So a fortnight before the race, I made my way out to Sal. We did 7 miles. I have to say, that compared to the South Downs, the hills were very much in the "gentle slope" category, but compared to what I'd been running on, they were a good way of "easing in". She was complementary and assured me that I'd be fine, but as the daughter of a psychiatrist, I can tell you that she told me what I needed to hear.

So, the top tips I gained while running with her were: NEVER stop. It is always better to reduce your speed if you think you are suffering, rather than walk. However, this comes with a caveat, which is that your brain has a "control centre" which is (in my opinion) doing damage-limitation: it will tell you that you NEED to slow down, you NEED to stop. You don't. So if you let it, you may slow down for longer than you need to. Therefore, if possible, over-rule it and run through. You may find that in another mile, you'll feel fine. (Or you may be dead).

Other hill-running tips are to take smaller paces going up, and longer ones going down. Get a lolloping, easy gait for downhill running. In Sal's words, "make sure you run like a gazelle - land lightly on your feet, or you could damage your knees". Now, sadly, my first thought here was that gazelles have four legs. I'm sorry that I am still in deep confusion on how to land "lightly". I'm working on this.

Sal also asked me what my goal time was. Now, alert readers will be aware that in blind enthusiasm I wanted to beat two hours, initially, but by the time she asked, I was already fully aware that the training I'd done wasn't going to back me for that time. I waivered. "Well, initially, I wanted to beat my Peterborough time, but now I'm a bit dubious of the whole 'hills' thing..." I told her. Her response was swift. "It's a totally different course" she said. "So you shouldn't try to beat your other time. Why not just focus on 'doing' this one?" This was a brilliant plan, which I liked immediately. Survival.

Justin further refined that plan, in a way that I can only describe as pure genius. If I NEVER repeat the same course, I'll never have to beat my own time....