And then, a year or so later...

Mmm... I see that my previous blog post has me preparing for the Sydney Marathon, um, last year. It's just as well I don't write this for money - the family would be living in a cardboard box by now.

Here are a few highlights from the last year and a bit...

Sydney Marathon, September 19, 2010

After my early exit from this race in 2008 I had a few pre-race nerves. However, everything went well and I finished in a tad under 4hr 30m feeling good. I ran wearing my thin Vibram Cherry huaraches which were not only comfy the whole way but a good conversation starter as well.

Coastal Classic trail run, September 25, 2010

This was the inaugural running of the Coastal Classic, with a beautiful course through Sydney's Royal National Park, and I'd been looking forward to it for months.

Now you might think that running a 30km technical trail, complete with brutal hills and sand slogging, six days after a marathon is not such a good idea for a middle aged office worker. Well, you'd be right. I felt tired at the start line, shattered by about 20km, and was shuffling pathetically for the last few kilometres - but I made it to the finish line.

The sense of achievement was short-lived. The next day, my left foot was worryingly swollen and painful. When it failed to respond to the usual treatment (ignoring it for a week or two) I reluctantly went for x-rays and scans and discovered that I'd injured a joint badly enough to be off running for some time.

The latter part of 2010 and the first few months of 2011 consisted of unsuccessful attempts to begin running regularly, interspersed with extended periods of sulking.

Barefoot Ted, March 2011

Long before 'Born to Run' was published, Ted McDonald, aka Barefoot Ted, was inspiring ordinary people like myself to run with less sole and more soul. It was from Ted's website that I first learned about huaraches and how to make and wear them. So it was a great pleasure to finally meet the man himself when he visited Sydney for a few days in March.

This photo was taken just before heading out with Ted and a small group of other runners for a lunchtime trot through The Domain and Botanic Gardens.

On the road again

Fast forward to May: the foot finally seemed all better and I made my comeback at the Sri Chinmoy 16km Iron Cove event, running slowly but very happily.

My plan to run the 2011 Coastal Classic was foiled by a badly timed dose of flu, but I did get to do many of my other favourite races including the Shoalhaven King of the Mountain (32km trail), Willy to Billy bush run (34km trail) and the remaining races in the Sri Chinmoy Sydney series. The Sri races in particular are always a great tonic for the spirit as well as the body, each one filled with friendliness, good humour and encouragement.

Long, slow plans for 2012

The plan for next year is to tackle some longer events, starting with the Narrabeen All Nighter 12 hour race in early January, my first attempt at a trail ultramarathon with The North Face 100km event in May, and the Sri Chinmoy 24 hour race in June.

Overcoming pre-marathon fear through displacement behaviour

I've been counting down the days until the Sydney Marathon and feeling relaxed and comfortable about it thanks to a mental technique that I've long used to deal with life's big challenges. A very tiny part of my brain registers the event getting closer but the rest of it simply repeats "no problem - plenty of time". The bigger the challenge, the more I do this. However, despite my best efforts and with one day to go before the marathon, I fell prey to a sudden and unwelcome attack of reality today.

To settle the nerves I busied myself happily breaking the first rule of running...

Never get new footwear just before a race. Never ever. It will end tears.

But I'm choosing to belieive that there's a loop-hole in this running law (another trusty mental technique here) that applies to those of us whose footwear consists of rubber flaps tied on with string, especially if said flaps have got to the point where they've been colonized by what feels like a slippery algal growth that thrives on foot sweat.

Luckily I had some spare pieces of Vibram soling so it was a simple matter of tracing around my old huaraches and cutting out the new ones...



Punching the lace holes...



Making a recess for the bottom lace knot...



Lacing them up (that's the old pair festering on the right)...



And we're ready to race !

Second first marathon attempt

Four more sleeps to go and then it will be time for my second attempt to run 42.195 km (plus a bit more) in the 2009 Canberra Marathon / 50 Km Ultra-marathon. My first attempt was the 2008 Sydney marathon where my finish was, ahem, unexpectedly premature.

This time around my plan had been setting my sights on completing the 50km ultra-marathon, scoring a marathon finish along the way. Whether I'll have the stamina or the stomach to do the extra 7.805 km after reaching the marathon finish line for the first time remains to be seen. But I've been trying to visualize myself breezing effortlessly across the line as I set out for the extra bit and a glorious double finish. Positive waves... positive waves...

I'll be running in the sparsely contested, circus gear and sandals category, opting for my favourite pair of Vibram cherry huaraches. But for most of my training runs in preparation for Canberra over the last few months I've worn my FiveFingers Classics which were kindly supplied by Max and Sally, local FiveFingers pioneers here in Sydney. The more I ran in them, the more I grew to like them. In fact, I've now run far enough that they've recently become more authentically barefoot then they used to be with the soles finally giving out. So, sadly, it's time to retire them - though of course there's the fun of choosing the next pair to look forward to !

Last race for 2008 and surviving the off-season

The 2007 Central Coast Half Marathon was the first time that I'd run 21km and I remember feeling apprehensive at the start, wondering whether I would be able to make it to the finish. I did, and enjoyed the event thoroughly.

Now, a year later, I once again stood at the start in my customary back-of-the-pack position. I not only felt more confident now, having five half-marathons under my belt, but even harboured a secret hope of finishing in under two hours for the first time. The course, starting from The Entrance and running along a bike path around Tuggerah Lake (google map), is almost monotonously flat so it's a good event for those seeking a fast time - or in my case a relatively fast time.

It's an out and back race and I reached the turn-around in about an hour feeling quite pleased with myself. Ah yes, pride comes before a fall... Just after starting the return leg I started to feel the first signs of an unhappy tum which rapidly grew into an urgent and unignorable demand to get to the nearest loo pronto. Luckily for me this course is especially well serviced with toilet blocks and I darted into the nearest one for a prolong pit-stop.

I completed the rest of the race but at a very subdued pace, even by my standards. Perhaps there was something wrong with my pre-race banana ? Or perhaps my body, alarmed at being asked to go (sort of) fast for the first time ever, was sending me a reality check.

And so endeth the 2008 fun run season...

The off-season

My next event will be in March 2009 at the earliest. As someone who runs for mental and emotional health as much as physical health, and who begins to flounder very quickly without regular goals to train for, this seems like a worryingly long off-season.

The solution ? Aim for something big enough to need a long training program - the sort that says: it's week X, day Y, do this. Goodbye off-season blues, hello Canberra Marathon / 50km ultra double, April 2009.

As I write I am just starting week 3 of one of Hal Higdon's 18 week marathon training programs - slightly modified by extending a couple of the longest runs with the aim of completing the 50km ultra. My logic is that since I failed in my first marathon attempt in Sydney this year, I'll make it easier for myself in Canberra by aiming past the marathon finish line. Cunning eh ?

2008 Sydney Marathon

After all the training, the wondering and the worrying, the day had finally arrived.

I caught a train into the city, which was very quiet at 6am, and walked down to Circular Quay and then up onto the Harbour Bridge walkway in time to see the half-marathon cross the bridge. Two police motorbikes, which I guessed would be a little ahead of the lead runners, came into view and stopped in the middle of the road, opposite where I was standing. One rider shouted to the other "you know where we're supposed to go mate ?" to which the other replied "no f***ing idea mate". This got a loud chuckle from everyone on the walkway. Then they set off again, hopefully in the right direction, followed shortly afterwards by the lead runners. It's always exhilarating to see athletes of that standard, but on the Harbour Bridge on such a beautiful morning it was especially good. Next followed the huge half-marathon field which seemed to go on forever. I looked for friends who I knew were in the event and managed to spot MissPinky, though she was too far away to cheer.

I continued on to the northern end of the Bridge and joined the throng of runners heading down to the start area. I was very pleased to see Crabby just ahead of me and caught up with her for a chat. I also met another CoolRunner, Ewoksta, for the first time after chatting to him many times on the forum pages. I got out of my tracksuit pants, laced on my huarache sandals (having chosen the thin Cherry soles for the day) then threw my plastic gear bag up into the back of a large truck where it joined a growing mountain of other bags to be transported to the finish area.

All of the nervousness that I'd felt the evening before had subsided and I was really looking forward to the race. I wandered over to the starting area and was pleased to see that they'd signposted my end of the field (the back) with snail signs ! I strolled down the road a little, taking in the water view and feeling relaxed.

Perhaps it should have occurred to me at this stage that this unaccustomed quiet confidence was a warning sign, but it was only after a few more neurons had switched on that I realized my timing chip wasn't attached to my ankle, instead it was in one of a squillion identical plastic bags in the back of the gear truck...

PANIC !!!

This felt a lot more familiar. I bolted back to the truck and, with the amused permission of one of the race officials, climbed up the bars on the side and frantically started digging into the pile of bags. A voice on the PA asked runners to make their way to the start area. I burrowed even more frantically. There it was ! A bag with my number 5976. Yes! No... it was 5967... aaaarrrgghhh!!! Finally I found my bag and recovered the timing chip. With a huge sense of relief, and after spending a minute unwedging myself from the side bars of the truck, I thanked the grinning race official and headed back to the snail section with the chip firmly velcroed to my ankle.

The race

There were still a couple of minutes to go until the race so I did my best to calm down. I hadn't yet seen my brother Paul who was going to run the marathon with me, generously sacrificing his own record of sub-4 hour finishes by doing so. But I was very pleased to be joined by a CoolRunning friend Emjay and shortly after that by Paul who reminded me that I had been supposed to meet him at the Black Dog Institute stall near the start (another neuron that hadn't switched on). Then, all of a sudden, the race began and we shuffled forwards, then walked, then slowly jogged onto the Bridge.

I loved the first half of the marathon: running across the Harbour Bridge, along Mrs Macquaries Rd, Oxford St, around Centennial Park... I met lots of CoolRunning folk, including UpAndAtom for the first time, and the number of "Go slowmo" greetings that I got was overwhelming. With the warm weather I wasn't wearing my habitual fancy pants - instead I had a brand new pair of loud, Circus pattern shorts from RunningFunky to add a spot of colour to the event and symbolize stepping out of the shadow of the Black Dog. The huarache sandals felt perfect and with the heat I was pleased to have my feet free of shoes and socks.

The course headed back towards the city and it was at about this time that I started feeling a bit light-headed. I put this down to the warm conditions and perhaps needing a bit more sugar. I had a cache of honey sachets and apricot chews in the pockets of my tri top. I'd been careful to drink a cup of water at each aid station so dehydration didn't seem like a worry.

We continued on, across the old Glebe Island Bridge and onto an unfortunately boring and uninspiring section of the course - the Westlink Road, a barren wasteland of bitumen and concrete sidings. I had been walking the uphill sections, trying to get rid of the increasingly woozy feeling within but just before the 33km point, I started to see white fog and decided to sit down for a couple of minutes until I felt better. Paul stopped with me and many passing runners asked if I needed help. One very nice fellow thought I must need a little more sugar and gave me some jelly beans. I nibbled a red one and then spent a minute emptying my stomach contents, as neatly as I could, into a road-side drain. After that my head felt much clearer but I couldn't stand up and Paul summoned the first aid folks. My race was over.

A wonderfully friendly paramedic came and found that my blood sugar was fine but that my blood pressure was low from dehydration. She and Paul stayed with me until an ambulance arrived and I was put on IV fluids and taken to hospital. The two ambulance paramedics were terrific and had an endless stream of jokes while they were fixing me up. They had a great time making comments about my sandals and pointing them out to everyone at the hospital - "look what this guy has on his feet !!!". With some extra fluids in my system I felt much better physically, but I couldn't help being disappointed and embarrassed about my race ending like this.

After a couple of hours at the hospital for some more checks, Paul joined me again and drove me home. He had run the rest of the marathon, but had had his timing chip confiscated by a stern and unrelenting race official at the 34km point, despite only being a minute over the cut-off and having one of the first-aid people confirm his explanation that he had been helping me just down the road and could easily finish the race inside the cut-off time (which he did).

I slept like a log overnight and woke the next morning feeling more at peace with myself than I had the day before. My barefoot-running friend Sharene (Runbare on CoolRunning) had left a phone message the night before and called again in the morning to see how I was. I appreciated this a great deal and was very cheered by her advice that you're not a real runner until you've got a DNF. She also suggested I could count the kilometres I did in the ambulance and chalk it up as an ultra :-)

Shortly afterwards I spoke to Paul who reminded me that my legs had still been working well at the end and this showed that the training had built up my strength and fitness. On the computer I had a swag of messages from CoolRunning friends checking to see if I was OK and encouraging me not to let this experience put me off.

Most of all, my wonderful partner Annie told me to remember that it had been my longest run so far and that I'd raised a lot more money for the Black Dog Institute than I ever expected to.

And the moral of the story ?

Numerous studies confirm that physical activity can help many people to recover from depression and either prevent its recurrence or at least lessen its impact. Running has certainly done this for me, but I've discovered that it's racing that has been the biggest help. Even for a slow, non-competitive runner such as myself, races provide challenge, force me to get my act together enough to prepare properly, and give me the opportunity to do more than I ever thought I could. Until recently I never imagined that I would attempt to run a marathon. The fact that I bombed out, probably because I neglected to drink enough fluids before the race, just means that I will be that bit more experienced at my next attempt. If the marathon was easy it wouldn't be worth doing.

Sydney Marathon 2008 - off to a slightly ordinary start

This year I have set myself the goal of running my first marathon. Yes (sigh) I know the rest of the universe has already done one and it's no quite like climbing Everest any more (yes [sigh] I know the rest of the universe has already climbed Everest and... <continue ad nauseum>). But since I only began my running career last August, and my longest run so far has been a half-marathon, the goal of being able to run 42km (26 miles) seems like a biggie.

The event in question is the Sydney Marathon 2008 on September 21st. This is a charity fund-raising event and I'm going to try to raise some money for The Black Dog Institute. To help galvanize myself into action I entered (and paid - ouch) a few days ago. I will be running in Bib Number 05976.

Sufficiently galvanized, committed, determined etc. I have launched myself into a program of intensive training. Unfortunately things haven't quite gotten off to a dream start on either the training or the fund-raising front.

I selected one of the training programs available on the Sydney Marathon web site and, being realistic about my abilities, decided to start a few weeks early and double up on the first part of the program. Now, my running style is characterized by a stately pace - a pace appropriate to someone whose interests lie in the higher, mental and spiritual aspects of running rather than base athleticism and competitiveness. To put it another way, I'm slow. Really slow. So when I saw that the training program included speed work from the very first week I was a little apprehensive. That was mistake. It would have been far better to be very apprehensive and thus a little more cautious...

My first and, to date, only speed session consisted of six one minute intervals. One minute at full pelt is about 200m for me. I threw myself into it and was rewarded with breathless nausea followed the next day by an uncomfortable twinge in my right achilles tendon. Bah ! I thought: athletic competitive runners such as me aren't troubled by pifling little aches and pains. So, I went for a medium length slightly painful run, followed a couple of days later by a shorter, more painful, limping jog. It then began to dawn on me that the achilles pain wasn't succumbing to my steely indifference as it was supposed to. In fact, by yesterday it had developed into a quite convincing running injury, complete with swelling and more pain, and leaving me limping around the house ridiculously. Ah well... better to get the injuries out of the way early rather than just before the event !

On the fund-raising front things haven't got very far. All event entrants who nominate to raise funds for charity are given a fund-raising web page which they can customize with their own text and images. Well, that's what the email from the organizers promises but, despite several attempts, I haven't managed to customize, or even slightly dent, my page. The pages are hosted at gofundraise.com.au and they provide a simple on-line template editor which, for me, generates screens full of xml error complaints when I try to do anything. Teething troubles I thought, and logged a help request with the gofundraise folk via their help page. Their system assured me that:

"our technical staff will response to you shortly"

It's been about 24 hours but they haven't responsed to me yet.