I entered Perth’s Heaven and Hell half-marathon thinking that I might be signing myself up for a calamity.  Was I ready for a 13.1 mile race and a particularly challenging one at that (see photo, right)?  To be frank, I entered during a moment of boredom fueled by optimism.  This was to be my biggest running challenge of 2010 so far.  I wasn’t wrong.

In July last year I ran the Harris half-marathon.  I was sure my legs had been subject to a fate similar to David Tennent as Doctor Who, only for me it was a case of degeneration. I hadn’t trained and I gained a fairly average time of 2 hours 13mins.

Fast-forward to April 2010, four months training and my time’s faster by 7mins.  I’m happy enough but I reckon there’s a 1 hour 50-something in me.  I was in much better shape by the end of this than Perth but I there was more in the tank, I should’ve been exhausted and I reckon I can do better.  I finished 164th out of 250 starters (only 196 finished)

The best thing about entering races is the motivation it provides.  I learn what my body’s capable of, what pace I should run for various distances and gives me my next target.  My aim now is to run 10km in less than 50mins and run under 2 hours for a half-marathon.

I was rather proud of my 2 hour plus run and not too miffed to realise my time belonged to the bottom half of the results table.  It was as I hovered around the cake table afterwards that I learned of the realm of running-hood still foreign to me, the people who were so fast round the course that it was quite reasonable for them to state their time in minutes only.  One bloke finished in 77mins!!!  He looked liked he’d showered and enjoyed a beer or two by the time I dragged my sweaty carcass through the finish line.

And to top it all off – it was a beautiful day! If I hadn’t been otherwise engaged I might have stopped to enjoy the stunning Perth view! (that’s me in white, pounding down the first steep incline).

Also while I’ve been here, after my longest run of the week, I decided to try an ice bath, good for repairing the muscles after pounding the streets apparently.  15mins in cold water with half a tray of ice cubes – nothing in comparisson to the 3 or 4 champagne bucketfuls that Eddie Izzard was tipping into his tub post marathon, but a start none the less – it was VERY uncomfortable, chilling to the bone.  Though I suppose body heat mst warm the water a little and the body gets used to it as it did become easier for me as time passed.  Plus, afterwards my legs did feel better for it almost like post massage.

Anyway enough talking of pleasant things like massages, I’ve got to dash I’m off to run Perth’s half-marathon called Heaven and Hell, fitting for the 400ft and 700ft hills I have to climb and descend over a 13.1 mile distance.  Race starts at 11am, better dash!

I had been excited.  The Nigel Barge memorial race was to be my first opportunity to show the benefits of the training I’ve been doing since January.  I was sure that I would break my previous 10km time of 56mins.  I was pumped.

On Friday evening, 20hours before the race, I ventured to the pub and restained my alcohol intake to a half pint of Guiness quite sensible behaviour I thought.  Heading home at 7.30pm I trundled myself into M&S to raid the reduced selection of goodies.  I was filled with glee as I scooped up a 3 course dinner for 2 days and lunch for under £10!  I was loving my genius and had a lovely relaxed evening in front of the tv with my supplies.

The following day, the 10km started at 2pm.  I thought it wise to chomp down some lunch in preparation for my race.  Run out of energy?  No, not me, I’m going to have 3 sandwiches and a slice of toffee cake 90mins beforehand.  Bad move.  Too much, too close to the race.

I cycled up to the start and signed in, at this point still convinced I was destined for a PB.  Once I had pinned on my number I began my warm-up jog.  Slop-slop, slop-slop.  As I increase the pace, slop-sloppity-slop.  I knew I could do nothing about my bulging tummy and resolved to press on with my mission.

My God.  I had no idea how uncomfortable I would feel.  The heavy viscous weight inside me placed me between hurlation and severe discomfort.  The technicoloured yawn failed to appear and so the only way to stop the awkward pain was to stop running.  I extremely annoyed and felt very stupid. But d’you know, I would’ve have felt better if I had been sick.  I would have been able to finish the race and I would’ve felt as though I tried rather than aborting a race … because I ate too much!?!  I find this a smidge comical.

One week and one day later, I was off to Dunbar with my folks for a second attempt at a 10k.  I had my game face on this time and there was no erratic eating prior to this event.  I was comfortable throughout the race and perhaps could have afforded to push myself harder.

My favourite part of the race was reaching the halfway point which was placed at the top of the route’s highest climb.  After this followed a glorious couple of k slowly dropping down towards Dunbar.  The finish line was situated at the end of a single-track through a wooded area and was out of sight until the last moment so I didn’t really get to power up to my sprint finish (well I managed about 5 strides).  And my time? … 52mins 50secs.  I was delighted.  That’s over 3mins faster than my first 10km.  I am sure, and now determined, that I can achieve a sub 50min 10km by the end of the year.

And what did I do with my day away from lycra?  I went swimming.  Yup, guilty of sport addiction, so much so that last Thursday I ran home from uni, lycra-clad and backpack on my back.  Previously I have chuckled at individuals who have dawned a bag and gone running in the city.  Yeah ok its practical if running is a form of commuting, you have to put your stuff somewhere but purely as a method of exercise?  Its just odd.  Anyhoos, my bag turned out to be a royal pain in the ass as it slapped around my shoulders.  I ended my run with a graze at the base of my neck which some mates told me later looked like a hicky.  Ha. No lads, no such luck!

Friday I substituted an interval sesh for a game of five a side.  Sure, that was a fine round-about shame the same couldn’t be said for my football skills.  I fell over twice, once running backwards (schoolboy error) and the other when just watching the foot work of another player!  That was embarassing but not as much as when I got nutmegged while in goal moments after someone shouted “last goal’s the winner”.

Sat I wasn’t up early enough to get to the park run so I just did my usual 3.2miles, 30 min run.  Sunday I had a successful 1hr 10min, 6.5mile run and no major calls of nature forced me to walk this time.  Ooooh no.  So feeling pretty chirpy about that.  then Monday was a casual 3.2miler in the evening…. with my new watch!!!

Monday morning I found my cute white watch but decided that I definately had to invest in a gadget with at least a stopwatch, which I did, but this casio number also has a timer, oh the glee at my banal purchase.

During a lull period at uni, I scouted online and reserved my new watch but I also, perhaps out of madness fueled by boredom I entered myself into Perth’s Heaven and Hell half-marathon.  It involves climbing 2 hills, the second a steep incline i.e. Hell before descending to the finish.  It’s the kind of challenge that makes me a little scared but at the same time its that fear that excites me a little (sports geek).

I’ve got my first 10k of 2010 (my second ever) on Saturday.  The plan is for that to go well i.e. finish in under 55mins and fill me with the confidence or delusion that I require to

A. turn up to the start line in Perth on April 11th and

B. complete the race … injury free.

Because two weeks later I’ve signed up to run another half-marathon in Dundee.  Maybe that’s too much, too quick I don’t know but perhaps its knowing that’s the problem?  If Eddie Izzard had known all of the details about what his body would endure during his challenge would he have done it?  I am not saying that Izzard inspires irresponsibility, merely that he inspires.  Think big … anything is possible.  It’s a good mental attitude to have.

Ooooh and check out these goggle marks – sexy.

I did not run on Monday because I assumed it was a rest day having not seen the mandatory reminder e-mail.  I ran on Tues, whoop, small victory but today I did not run at all.

The reason why I did not is a prime example of how easily I have discontinued regular running previously.  I decided to finish some freelance work this morning and resolved that I would run this evening.  Commitments at uni ran late, I then became unignorably tired and hungry, too much so to go running.

I should have gone for my run this morning.  It was the perfect opportunity, although I was working I had more time then than I did later and if I’d thought about it I would have known this.   I believe there are more benefits to an AM run to a PM.  If completed in the morning the sense of accomplishment so early in the day is a confidence boost and is an envigorating way to begin the day.  Anyway, lesson learned.  Bottom line, if I have a run to do, make sure it gets done.

Yup, I’ve lost my snazzy white didgy watch.  Haven’t a clue where I’ve left the bleeding thing – if you see it be sure to let me know!

My third failure today is the worst of all.  My sister and I had agreed that we would run the Sheffield half-marathon together as a step towards our Berlin target.  I confirmed this weeks (and weeks) ago but I only made an effort to enter the race yesterday and have discovered that the maximum capacity has already been reached.  Rachel was not pleased when I told her.  She was frustrated to the point of silence.  I have no excuse.  Guilty of non-committal.

I think it’s time to progress to the positives:

1. Skipped training session – I have utilised my ‘flexible’ schedule to move today’s session to tomorrow when I was supposed to have a rest day.  Plus, on Friday I’m playing football 5′s which is in excess of the interval session planned.

2. Lost watch – well it may be a loss to my fashion wardrobe but certainly not my athletic accoutrements.  It was hopeless.  I will now buy a watch with a stopwatch AND a timer (for intervals).  I don’t quite have the cash for a GPS device though I am tempted.

3. After my epic fail with the Sheffield H-M, I have entered the Angus HAM due to take place on the same day (April 25th) only closer to home in Dundee.  I have also convinced dad to run a 10k with me in two weeks time in Dunbar, The Belhaven Best 10k and I am considering entering 2 more races.

There are always positives to be found and I find it useful to write them here, it means now my training and Berlin mission move forward and don’t wallow in sticky moments.

Next time I write I think I’ll tell you about the race I am dying to do but may feel like dying afterwards if I do decide to do it.  The name, ‘Heaven and Hell’ gives an indication as to what is in store for the runners.  If I muster the courage I reckon I’ll give it a go, though it may pose a threat to my marathon training if I were to get injured doing it.

More to follow …..

Sunday I clocked up 5 miles, a day before I executed my most keen-runner-bean activity which was to complete a 3.2mile session before a 9am start at uni.  Yes, I am sure there are many who believe this is nothing to shake one’s stick at, but for me and the progression of my commitment to running, this was a big deal.  Just saying.  Needless to say, and I should not be surprised by this now, but I felt great for it afterwards.

It was a prime example of the benefits that exercise, specifically running, has to life beyond the sexy lycra and unique body odour.

Wednesday, I stomped (rather than glided to reflect my unrefined running style) over 4.8miles during a 40mins easy run – in the usual  Kelvingrove area, where there are various paths that add (limited) variety to my route which almost always exits north out of the park following the river Kelvin, under Great Western road, past the Botanical gardens and beyond.

On the way back, I was feeling particularly proud of myself having completed the run and what I thought was a reasonable pace only to be almost trampled by a herd of civilian exercisers following the speedy, yet clompy, pace of a stern looking army man.  The face he was wearing resembled that of Arnie in the role of Terminator, assessing all possible hazards.  Their fast block of bodies was far more hazardous to me, than I was to them but I did notice that I began to run with better posture after passing them.

The following day was an interval session, I enjoyed this a lot more than I thought I would, maybe because it wasn’t too tough (or perhaps I wasn’t pushing myself far enough?).  I also quite like going out on an interval session because I feel fitter on the subsequent run i.e. its worth it.  I covered approx 4.2 miles doing 3mins of 5k pace, 5 times with a 2.5min break in between.

Friday was rest day (I went to the ballet of Wuthering Heights by North Ballet Theatre at Edinburgh’s Festival Theatre, it was phenomenal!).

Saturday and Sunday I executed a couple more runs.  Saturday’s with my sister, Rachel who is also training for the Berlin Marathon.  As she lives 3 hours from me, we don’t train together.  I was excited to be running with her but also a little nervy as, my last communal run situation (see ‘club running’ tags) resulted in me not keeping pace.  Of course my sister would not abandon me like the running club but I was anxious not to be of a similar ability as Rach.  We ran 29mins 3.7miles and finished with a 5k pace (maybe faster) my sis finished first but we kept pace on the main run so I am not in a state of panic about Berlin… at this stage.

Sunday – I was psyched to complete a 1hour run.  I felt like this would be my first forray into proper long runs.  I took it slow, careful not to out do myself on my first longish run (though I did do 50mins the week before).  Anyhoo, I ended up getting lost AGAIN – man I really do have a talent.  I stared at that map for ages yet I still made an error that added approx 1mile to my trip.

That was not my biggest problem though.  I appear to have been dehydrated amoungst other things that caused an unignorable urge for the toilet.  I was about 2 miles from home, and desperate to get there but I had to walk.  The more I pounded the pavement, the more profound my need.  I may be an outdoorsy, practical girl but I’m no Paula Radcliffe who plopped onto the streets of London during a marathon.  Considering there was no marathon in session, a similar activity from myself on the well-swept streets of westend Glasgow was more likely to result in a visit to the police station.

This experience highlighted that there are many factors to be taken into consideration when embarking on a run for hours at a time.  Really it boils down to input and output but I’m going to have to figure out my own system that will make the most comfortable run for me.

I also think I should be doing some core muscle exercises and paying more attention to my diet….so much to do nevermind things outside the running element of my my life i.e. study, career etc.  It’s all part of the challenge and its what I signed up for so (for now) I say BRING IT ON. punk.

Later that evening I watched the first part of Eddie Izzard’s documentary: Marathon Man.  The man, in my opinion, is a comic genius.  However, the idea of running 43 marathons over 51 days screams insanity.  This appeared to be the opinion of the doctor at the UK Olympic centre who when quizzing Eddie about the project had to check with someone off-camera if Izzard was serious about the magnitude of the venture.  When asked what his previous running experience was Eddie said in his joyful manner that he had run for the odd bus in his childhood, the doctor I think by this stage was hoping that comment was a joke.

So basically they find out Eddie’s not a habitual runner, he’s not fantastically fit and he’s done approximately 2 weeks of training before meeting the experts and Olympic central.  These experts also tell him he’s got flat feet and the voice over concludes “his body’s just not built for running”.  They put him through 5 weeks of intensive training to get him ready as best they can before he sets off.

What I found endearing was Eddie’s inquisitive engagement with the people and things around him.  On the practice run he stopped, to the frustration of the coach, to read information signs and take photos.  We see this intrigue continue through the show and it is a particular highlight when he spends one hour serving ice-creams from the Sports Relief (the cause he’s raising money for) van that follows him en route.

The man struggled and we are privy to some of the pain he experienced but not once does he walk.  Although the sports guru’s explain that walking would be less damaging to his body, he refuses to walk because he would feel as though he had failed.

Watching this programme, I was far more in awe of Eddie’s mind than his body.  The fact that his physique was not ideal for running increased the importance of his mental abilities I think.  Not only had he to complete a gruelling challenge that would be impossible for many and difficult for even the most committed endurance athlete, Eddie was a novice and inexperienced.

The message I got from this programme was the importance of the power of the mind.  Motivation and drive have as much to do with marathons as the biological / anatomical side of things.

And so, I have been further motivated to label myself pathetic and weak when I start to lose speed while out for a run.  I must admit visions of Mr Izzard did make an appearance on Saturday morning as I contemplated a later run on my own rather than cycle 5 miles to and from Pollock Park for my second Glasgow Park Run.  Yet again, I was reluctantly filled with positive, glowing emotions and admired the beautiful day.  Sickening.

Anyway, the run went well and I secured a faster time than last week, only by a minute but I felt much more comfortable and reckon I could beat that time in a fortnight when I’ll next be able to attend.

Today I ran my first ‘easy’ 50mins. What can I say, it was grand.  I strayed off route at one point (what can I say?  Getting lost seems to be a past time) and stumbled upon a beastly set of stairs.  I’ll admit they reduced me to a walk but now I have a nemesis that I aim to conquer next week.

Anyhoo, must dash to bed as I’ve to get up ridiculously early if I’m to fit in tomorrow’s run before uni at 9am.

As I become more lucid the need to get-up and run morphs mildly into desire.  I know that’ll push myself to work harder than the last session and I will enjoy the challenge of it.

Additionally and perhaps most worryingly of all, this excercise malarky has added some sort of metaphorical rose-tinted glaze to my life.  As a part-time sarcastic synic I’m not sure how I feel about this.  After my run I got back and said to my flatmate, “It’s a gorgeous morning, so bright and crisp.” Bet, she was delighted with my blistering chat.  She quickly left the kitchen.

I am beginning to fall in love with this marathon training.  I know. I know.  It’s early, perhaps too soon to say.  But this passion, this love..  it’s growing, growing into something beautiful.

There was a time when the words in the last paragraph would be clearly hilarious.  The bright, crisp morning comment is making me fear I’ll become irritatingly pleasant.  I could train harder and aspire to be competitive, but to be honest I’m not sure that’s a better option.

Changing the subject, I went swimming this morning which cost £1.30!!!!  I’ve joined the Glasgow Club and bought 10 swims for £10.30.  Utter bargain.  However, today’s swim was particularly irritating as it was busy and the worst kind of busy – slow swimmers.  I ducked under the lane rope to attempt lengths on the otherside in the free swim area.  That was no good either, it was a minefield of  bobbing pensioners.  I might go earlier in a bid to avoid the coasters.  Hmm, seems like the pleasantness hasn’t taken complete control. Thank God.

I had a surprisingly cheerful weekend.  Not because I usually wear dark clothing and praise all of the world’s melancholy of the world, 1. because I don’t do this and 2. because I thought I would mourn the loss of my weekend lie-ins (yes, plural) in favour of going for a run.

Last Wednesday I signed up for the Glasgow Park Run on a tip from my sister.  This is a volunteer-run 5km race, though technically it’s a timed run and before you ask yes there is a difference.  This weekly event acts more as a training tool providing participants with the experience of running in a pack against the clock.  It is very different to a solo session where it is  easy to let your pace drop and compromise your motivation.

I enjoyed my 5km venture round Pollock Park and learnt a great deal from it.  I have a long progression in front of me to get to marathon level.  I struggled to push myself beyond what seems to be running gear box that appears to offer only one speed.  It’s a fine pace, but it’s not a 5km pace mono-speed is not good for fitness progression.  While running I believe that am working as hard as I can manage, yet at the end I easily regain steady breathing and am not ‘in bits’.

So, I return to the mantra ‘work hard’.  Run faster when I think I can’t, and employ other Rocky-type strategies.  Incidently, I often have the Rocky theme tune enter my head when running.  “Doof.  Doof, doof, doof.”

Sunday, I got up for another 30min easy run, loathingly I must add.  Though I was not surprised when I came back feeling better for it and spending my morning being productive with me old e-mails with coffee for company before heading off to report on the Glasgow Wildcats first win of the NSL season.

Ignoring the Scotland vs Italy result in the 6 nations, it was a great weekend even if I am becoming one of them.

I also found that I was automatically slowing after a couple of minutes of ‘hard’ running and easing into a steady run, faster than my basic pace but not maintainuing my ‘hard’ pace.   At the beginning of this run I was sure that I would be unable to finish the full 15mins, yet by the end I knew I could have run faster.  It seems to be one of those situations whereby you don’t know what you’re capable of until you try.

I have now passed into the  stage where the warm-up jog doesn’t tire me and once I have finished a session I’m happy to run a bit further.  Progress.  I admit it’s a far cry from marathon running capabilities but it is a step closer.

I’m pretty pleased to have a day’s break from training though.