In nearly 5 years of parkrunning I've never logged a freedom run. Sure, in hindsight all of the planning runs at the forest could be logged, but I never found the time of inclination to do so. On Monday I'd decided that my commute needed breaking up so chucked some kit into the hire car with a few ideas for where to run. As my day meandered I had mentally checked out & hit the road.
One option I had in my head was that Gunpowder Park was just off the M25 & therefore perfectly placed for a freedom parkrun should the traffic play ball.
After a crawl on the M3 I wasn't convinced my attention span would last for that far into the journey, I was completely at the mercy of whatever the motorways would throw at me. Thankfully the traffic was heading the other way around the 25 & once past the M40 the drive was pretty straight forward. I arrived at Gunpowder (complete with new concrete chicane entrance) & was thankful the facilities were open so that the changing in the car routine didn't need to be visited.
On top of deciding to freedom parkrun, I also had in my head an idea to resume speed work. Other than a running group session a few weeks back I've been quite restrained of late. But after some decent returns at 10k & a suggestion of a return to form at parkrun I feel there is an opportunity to slay some personal bests en route to Berlin. With this in mind not only would I be running around Gunpowder park, I'd be fartleking my way round. Jog, Sprint, Walk, Repeat.
After a kilometre to warm up it was into 100 metre sections. The only time I broke the cycle was with a double jog as the 2nd lap started, didn't fancy sprinting past some dogs off a leash! The park was nice & quiet in the late afternoon / early evening, albeit far warmer than I'd expected given the downpour earlier in the day. With a mandatory sprint finish to end my parkrun it was time to cool down & make best use of the air con in the car.
13 sprints, a very satisfactory session & if I can be sensible then speed work can form part of the journey to Berlin.
Squash
They say insanity is repeating the same exercise & expecting a different outcome. When it comes to my squash game, I don't think I'm insane, I repeat the exercise & the majority of the time the result is identical, just the margin of my loss being the only outlier.
I simply don't play enough & have never been a good player, so don't have a wealth of applied knowledge to call upon. This means that though my cardio is good, shot execution is an issue & I'm especially good currently at keeping a point alive when a better, more experienced player would know how to win.
After a close first game, my other ability which is to peak & trough like a sine wave shone through & I lost the two remaining games that counted by a healthy margin. In order to at least give my colleague the feeling of a run out I was happy to suggest we carried on, eventually completing a 5-0 donut. Not being an experienced player I know precisely that I'm doing things wrong, but have only some of the knowledge & insufficient skill to correct it.
Essentially any game of squash I play is a hiding to nothing & a cardio workout that gives me the occasional opportunity to clutch at success. That's not to say I don't enjoy it! If I'd have given up at things I had no ability at then life would be boring. I've never been a natural at anything!
Gym
My ongoing pursuit of paying for a gym membership but not actually using it has become something almost worthy of a graph. A cost vs participation model perhaps, maybe that is a way to motivate me. It doesn't help that the spinning class they are meant to have scheduled on a Monday evening doesn't appear to actually exist, meaning my only option might be a 0610 Tuesday morning class all the way in Saffron Walden.
I'd decided that Wednesday had to include some exercise as I'd be missing running group due to a need for a beer in London with a colleague. So I finished Tuesday by grabbing some kit & promising myself to get out the door at a decent time.
The body clock felt 0450 was the new 0535 & took some persuading that a bit more of a snooze would be a good idea & I pleased myself by being behind the wheel of the Alfa just before 0600 & making the drive east. Stupidly, I know I'm paid up to use the Stansted gym, yet continue to use Dunmow, an extra ten minutes at least in the car, mainly out of familiarity & also to remind myself there is a pool there I should use occasionally.
The whole work out plan was to not put any strain on my calves. So I chose a recumbent bike & set it to 20 minutes random. I didn't push the rpm at all, just got the quads going & watched Countdown on the TV ahead of me. It got me thinking, I could just bring a book along, seeing as I have a massive backlog of them I should read ahead of the great de-clutter.
After the bike I took to the seated leg press & got through 50 reps, which was pleasing. Next time the job is to repeat that & up the weight by 10kg. Pulldowns were hard work & I managed 25, the deltoid apparatus was even harder, 20 of them before I called it a day. I was relatively happy, the cardio was purposefully low energy & the strength work will remain a work in progress. I drove home & rewarded myself with a Cocio chocolate milk, sharing some with Topper, who appears to be indulging in his Make a Wish style status!
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| Topper, Cocio brand ambassador |
Not so Fast Friday
I've kept the last bit about the Gym & Topper indulging in some chocolate milk in the blog as I'd starting writing this on Wednesday last week.
Unfortunately Topper's decline was becoming all too evident. Even before the weekend I had mentioned to Paula that it was time to start thinking about the when it was time to say goodbye to him rather than the if. By Thursday evening he was stumbling across the sofa, personality was still all there but physically incapable of much. Paula decided that it was time, something that was absolutely the right call as he sat up & launched an exacerbated & defiant hiss at Roo for no apparent reason other than frustration.
I went to bed in the knowledge it was the right decision, no emotion. The morning was a different matter completely. All my running kit was out, ready to take to the Fast Friday event in the evening. I realised that this would not be happening. I was up early & decided to catch an early train into London so that I could be back for the evening visit to the vets. Even this wasn't easy, I was all over the place, a brief run to the station probably a good thing as it stopped me thinking.
Work was a complete write off for the day. I could find little to distract me & called it a day just after 2. It was a nice day outside & I wanted to head home & spend a couple more ours with Topper before it was time to say goodbye.
The local shops had none of his favourite chocolate milk or ice cream so I instead headed out into the garden & made use of the sun lounger. Both Roo & Topper are house cats, they only get to see the garden when supervised & the chance to eat some grass or lounge in the sun is something both were eager to partake in.
If it weren't for the belly & lack of mobility it could have been any time over the past 7 years as Topper enjoyed the sunshine before retiring to first the shade, then back to his spot on the sofa. As he'd had enough & I headed to the sofa so that he could come & go for a fuss as he pleased.
Soon Paula was home & it was time to make the one way trip to the vets. The poor boy couldn't even spin around in his box & the vet was satisfied we'd made the right call. Paula said goodbye first, leaving me to sign the paperwork, say my own goodbye & thank the vet for keeping him going for the past 8-9 months.
We walked the short journey back home & shared a brief hug. We're very separate people now & I wanted my own space & to give Paula her own space to grieve. I decided to find that running kit meant for Fast Friday, laced up & got out the front door.
I wanted to run, feel some pain, let every emotion out. I was angry at the whole inevitability of the situation & wanted to find some kind pain, some kind of release. I wanted to hit the wall, wanted to be sick, I had no plan other than to run as fast as I could & to hell with the consequences. For that moment the marathon was irrelevant.
For the first time in a while the iPod came with me on a run & I just chucked it on Wrestling themes & angry music, Limp Bizkit's Break Stuff seemed a very apt first song. Despite a lack of sunshine the sunglasses were also on. They were essential, a self defence mechanism. Without being able to read my eyes I was just another runner out there, no one could see the pain, or the tears if they happened.
I took on one of my usual Stansted routes, the north to south loop. This is usually a 40-42 minute saunter, a 7km that I take on the easy side. My average sits at 5:57/km As I went though the first kilometre in 4:50 I felt confident that at least one of my earlier aims would be achieved. This would be a monumental crash & burn. An easy crossing despite rush hour had me heading back into Stansted & a 4:49 2nd click. When the wall came it would be crushing.
I had bugger all rhythm, just a desire to keep running as fast as I could until the wheels came off. By the time I made it through Stansted & onto Lime Kiln Lane my pace was still strong. A 6th click of 5:45 suggested that I was becoming unstuck, but grade adjusted saw that as 5:07 owing to the double climb totalling 27m. It was only in the final stretch towards home that I started to feel a bit sick, quickly realising that despite wanting all of those things at the start, I didn't really want to be chucking up as I passed a pub on a Friday night! I carried on picking the pace up, pushing all the way until home, grabbing a water as I walked straight into the garden & onto the sun lounger once more.
With a 34:47 I'd taken over 3 minutes off of my best around the same route. Not that I cared at that moment in time, I was incapable of doing anything other than lying down. The run had achieved it's aim & incapacitated me, at least temporarily. My breathing was all over the place, my chest was tight (remaining so all night, muscular, nothing too worrying I promise, more like I'd strained something), my calves throbbed away & my body tried to regulate itself with as much sweat as it could muster.
It was such a dumb run on so many levels. Sure, I was due for a fast run & ultimately it would have probably been quicker given track & race conditions, but this was not a wise idea. This was 7km of attempted suicide pace that could have had repercussions for the entire Berlin plan. For someone who thinks & over thinks to the point of distraction this wasn't well thought out. Just go out & run, run as fast as you can & try to convert all of those emotions into physical pain.
It was cathartic, a means to an end.
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| Angry, frustrated, exhausted |
parkrun
What I needed after what could be politely described as a shit day was a bit of a pick me up. Thankfully Saturday provided exactly that for it was parkrunday & also Great Notley's 1st birthday. I had hoped to head across for the event myself, but the problem with becoming an Event Director is that occasionally you have to be in charge at your own event. So instead we dispatched Karl with a remit of stealing tokens, finish poles, parkrun tape & any other paraphernalia he could fit into his car.
With Paul & Sam also away this was the first time any of us would be on RD duty without anyone else in the core team to help / assist / shout at. This is no bad thing, we had the roster filled up after a bit of encouragement & this suggests the event is starting to become self sufficient. By the morning I was inventing new marshal points as more folk had come forward to help.
Setup was relatively easy, aided by my new hobby, riding a bike as badly as possible around a forest. Even with my limited cycling knowledge I realised quickly I'd picked up a bit of a stinker from the NT's collection of hire bikes, the gears not really helping!
If ever I wonder why I've put the effort in, mornings like Saturday at the Forest are the reminder I need. It was time to compartmentalise my own issues & be parkrun Chris for the morning. It was just what I needed. Sure we had an injury, potentially lost a couple of runners who carried on unsuccessfully after the injury, sure I was a hot sweaty mess after cycling for setup & then running to find the injured runner, but I didn't care, it was fun! parkrun Chris is the best imitation of myself as Mr Folds would call it. I get to do something I enjoy doing & in turn our parkrunners get to share that experience. I'd be happy if it was 10 people showing up. Instead on Saturday we saw a record 196 take part. There is a friendly rivalry between our core team as to which RD will be first to pass 200 runners, with me not being on duty now until the end of August my opportunity appears to have passed based on the ongoing success & growth we are seeing.
After a pretty efficient close down I hurtled across the A120 to join the Great Notley team for results processing. Ably assisted by Vicky from Harlow I don't think I've had an easier set of results to confirm. Hardly any issues, a welcome relief after a hectic morning. All of the GN team looked great in their loud shirts & grass skirts, all buzzing from the festivities still. I'd encouraged our runners to join them as without Great Notley & Len's welcoming team they'd be no Hatfield Forest event.
With an hour to kill before the Great Notley VIP BBQ at Len's, Vicky & I descended on Tezzos to pick up beer, about the only thing Len had asked for. Karl joined us as we left & then it was onto Rayne to pick up fellow VIPs Emily & Paul, uploading some parkrun photos on the way.
Once at the BBQ we relieved Len of cooking duties so that he could socialise. Plenty of familiar faces from the first year of Great Notley were there & it was good to spend time with everyone away from our Saturday morning fun, especially since us Hatfield Forest folk spent time learning our craft at Notley. At one point there were 6 Event Directors in attendance & someone suggested a photo. Someone else had the even brighter idea of the photo taking place on the trampoline (me). After a couple of minutes of uncoordinated bouncing around me managed a photo, quickly escaping as Gerry our ambassador seemed to be channelling his inner Tigger!
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| Lots of Event Directors, one trampoline.... |
I got away at a decent time & sorted my running kit for the morning. Even getting to bed at a reasonable hour for once. The alarm was kind of set, I knew I need to get out by 8am, would see how the snooze vs body clock game went in the morning.
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| Relaxed & almost smiling.... |
Sunday - Breaking through another barrier
The plan said 18 miles. 18 miles / 180 minutes. The three hour run. I had an idea of a route, I had an idea of what nutrition I should take with me. What I had no idea of was how my body would react.
I took the iPod with me once more, I'm still not sure whether it will join me for my lap of Berlin. It could prove a distraction, it could be handy if I need a lift. I was also trying out a new Asics shirt, it had been on the expensive side (very) but I liked it & I'm not sure how big Um Bongo is in Germany!
My route was simple, although included a tough start. North west out of Stansted towards Manuden & a climb of Mount Manuden before following the track to Rickling. There was a bit of rain in the air, something almost welcome based on the recent hot spell, though it did give me the fear of chaffing were it to continue!
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| Definitely a bit of bed hair going on! |
On my previous attempt at the route I'd clocked 15 miles, so took a detour via Elsenham this time in the hope this would add the required extra 3. As I entered the 18th kilometre my left leg suddenly felt a bit funky. On the light side, a touch wobbly even. This wasn't a good thing, 18km was no major issue for me so why was this happening? I downed a gel in the hope that it would iron itself out, as even with the shortest route home I was a good 8km away. Looking back at the data, it turns out there was a fair amount of climb in this kilometre & perhaps I'd left it too long between fuelling having taken on a gel at 10km & a Honey Stinger waffle at 12.5km.
My fuelling tactic was gel, something more solid, gel, solid & repeat. Though I had 5 gels on me, this was a fail safe in case I became unstuck as the mileage ramped up. I was also thankful for the slightly cooler conditions as my current running bottle has just a 600ml capacity.
Thankfully the blip at 18km was exactly that & an even better bonus in the form of the level crossing at Elsenham made for a happy runner. As I approached Stansted I realised that the route wasn't quite long enough, I need to somehow add a couple of clicks or head home. Though returning home certainly appealed, my sense of wanting to complete the task set at the start of the run meant that I turned away from home & up towards Forest Hall Park. A small loop & I was finally on the homeward stretch, climbing final hill & by this stage talking to myself. I resolved to give it a bit of a kick to see what was left in the tank & with a final km at 5:37 I was pleasantly surprised.
29.0km clocked, just a shade over 18 miles in 3:03. An average of 6:20/km throughout & one of my most consistent runs to date. Very little degradation in the final miles, leaving me with the 4:30 marathon target very much still a possibility. A run that I was very happy with. I learnt a bit more about consistent fuelling, although still need to find an alternative to the Flipbelt, it puts slightly too much pressure on my stomach & bladder, perhaps some trail shorts are the answer.
The feet were in decent condition as well. This was another long run in the Mizuno Wave Riders & they continued to be comfy, the usual pinch points being vaselined up beforehand.
The Eat
Strava told me I'd burnt a mere 3115 calories & though it would have been fun to reclaim them throughout the day, I decided to be slightly more sensible for once. Unfortunately the sensible was preceded by stupidity. Despite suffering runger last time I ran long, I didn't take on anything of note before heading out to Stortford to test a car. By the time I got home, a basket of impulse buys in hand I was once again ravenous for a bit of food.
Some Torta Gorgonzola spread over toasted good bread was the snack I needed, though the sheer richness of the mascapone laced blue cheese was probably enough to send me spinning for the afternoon. There were plenty of jobs to do at home, but a nap on the recliner in front of the TV was exactly what I needed after the morning exertions.
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| Hmmmmmmmm cheese |
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| Mahi Mahi, quite healthy for post run! |
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| Damn good sushi |
The Conclusion
A rollercoaster of a week. Good running, bad running, good moments & some really sad ones. The fartlek run was good, as was the long run. The angry run was simply dumb, cathartic but dumb. I was angry at having to say goodbye to a friend though, part of the family.
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| Bye Topper, you silly silly boy |
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