Category: Long run

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Lacking daisicals

One of the keys to developing strong organisational strategies is deciding what you will not do.  This was a little like the challenge I faced this morning, with too many options and only one pair of legs.  Except that I didn’t really feel like doing any of them.

It was a sunny day and that’s great for running from my folks’ place, but I didn’t feel like driving anywhere.  The Beacon is also a great place to run to when the sun is shining, but after a week of feeling listless, I didn’t have the energy.  It would have been very easy to run on the machine, but the sun was streaming into the house, which would have made for a hot run and also made me feel guilty at not being outside in the fresh air.

So the choice came down to either a road run, or an off-road run, the former winning, but in a half-hearted, lackadaisical way.  I set off into the sunny day wearing three layers under my jacket, two hats and a pair of gloves… which is a lot of gear and reflects the iciness of the temperature out of the sun.

Within a mile I was struggling, physically and mentally… my energy was absent and my sub-conscious was exerting strong pressure to turn around and go back.  I managed to stagger on, having the same internal dialogue several times before I had even reached three miles.

Ironically, maybe the chief reason for continuing was to deny my sub-conscious the upper hand… I’ve been writing about the subconscious in my slowly growing manuscript this week and have invoked irritating old habits in the process, so I didn’t want to give it any more latitude than I had to.

Runners are often tired, but that tiredness takes many different forms… this wasn’t heavy legs, or inability to breathe, but rather more of a general reluctance, but I soldiered on.

It wasn’t even that my mind was elsewhere, working on an interesting challenge… instead it was clattering, like having engaged a false-neutral in an old gearbox.  Not in any particular gear, but making a great deal of noise about it.  It’s useful for my work to allow these brain patterns to play out sometimes, besides which I lacked the motivation to do anything else.

I reached the five-mile mark in 48 minutes and ran back even more slowly.  I had taken my jacket off on the outbound journey, the sun in my face and the wind behind, but now the temperature dropped palpably as I ran back into the wind so the jacket went straight back on!

The rest of the run back was… well, I think that you probably get the picture, so I’ll save you the effort of reading about the effort and instead cut to the chase… 10 miles in 98 minutes, 6.1 mph.

Of course, there is always good value in celebrating the successful execution of a strategy that you did choose… which in this case was really about running and writing, rather than vegetating!  Well done Foster!

Now, where’s that sofa?

PS. Congratulations to Clive in the Brighton Half Marathon… 123 minutes is very respectable for an old bloke like you!

Oh to be the youngest in the school year!

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An Almost Perfect Seal Launch

I took a drive down to my folks this morning and ran down the valley to Rottingdean and the sea, sparkling in the chilly sun.  I had already got the stitch chasing down another runner on the way down the hill and had all but run out of puff, but since it’s only a couple of miles I pushed myself on a bit.

By the Ovingdean steps, around the 3-mile mark, I really wanted to turn around but figured that it wouldn’t make much of a post (Ran to Ovingdean, got tired, turned around and ran back.  The end) so onwards I continued.

As I ran along the next section along the cliff-top to the Marina I saw five kayaks paddling on the flat calm sea towards Rottingdean.  I stopped to wave heartily just in case it was someone I knew from Martlets… I was too far away to be noticed.

I ran on and pushed myself past Penny’s to approximately the mid=point of the Lewes Crescent gardens – I recall that that’s around the 5-mile mark.

I finally started to retrace my steps towards Rottingdean, but this time along the Undercliff Walk…

…and at Ovingdean I caught the kayakers returning to their boats after a much-needed hot chocolate.  I ran over to find Nikki, Paula and Martina with two guys I didn’t recognise.

Whilst we had a quick chat one of the guys performed a perfect seal launch into the sea from high up on the single (reminding me of this clip of me a couple of years ago).  As his kayak came to a gentle rest about 15 feet out it was clear that something had gone amiss… on account of the fact that he was still standing on the beach!

The girls kindly came to the rescue and he got away without the swim that he probably deserved!

I ran on, energy continuing to escape me but not in a tired legs way… more in a burdened body & mind way… hence I was not looking forward to the run back up the hill from Rottingdean!  When I got there however, it was no worse than the rest of the run had been… though no better either, alas!

So 10.3 miles in 1.46, average 5.8mph including stopping for the mid-run chat.

I collapsed in an uncharacteristic heap at my folks’ and again when I got home and I’m only just starting to recover now… with Jackson Browne, Running on Empty, BLASTING out into an otherwise empty house!  Now THAT’s a record that should be on Stuppsy’s Desert Island Running Discs!

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Five miles at a time

Joe Jaworski, son of the lawyer who indicted Nixon, suggests that by opening ourselves to the possibilities in the world around us and responding to the subtle signs we then see, we can induce predictable miracles to happen around us.  That’s how I felt this week.

Having written about the power of smiling and then the benefits of focus over the last couple of weekends, I came across a significant piece of research which links the two.  Admittedly there is research and there is research and it’s often difficult to tell which is which, but this has the appearance of the latter, with half a million data points gathered from 15,000 people over the course of more than two and a half years… thus far.

The main findings around the subject of happiness are very interesting, but there was a side bar which suggests that, on average, we allow our minds to wander half of the time.  The percentage varies between certain tasks (for example it’s only 10% during sex!), but the crucial working day mirrors the overall average at 50%. It may be worth repeating that, in case you were thinking about something else.

Our minds wander HALF of every working day!

More interesting still is the correlation between focus and happiness.  When daydreaming, we can drift onto positive, neutral or negative subjects…mostly personal concerns.  Positive daydreaming has a largely neutral effect on our happiness, but neutral and negative daydreaming cause us to be less happy and downright unhappy respectively … and this results in decreased productivity, which I suspect is likely to reinforce the effect.

It is actually when our minds are focused on a task that we are at our happiest and, er… productive too!

With all this going through my mind this morning I can’t say I had a particularly happy run (in running terms), but it was at least a pleasant day… and a fitting close to the mild-mannered Year of the Rabbit which ends today.

I followed the same route as the last couple of weeks… I suppose I should name it my thinking route.  The first five miles were relatively hard going and the thought of cutting it short did cross my mind, but at the turn point I was one minute up on last week at 44 minutes.  The second five miles were equally tough but I managed to hold a faithful pace and returned another 44 minute time.

So ten miles in 1.28, average 6.8mph.

Lots of chores to do now to get the place clean in preparation for Chinese New Year tomorrow… it’ll be a miracle if we get them all done!

 

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Thinking about it

I’ve been thinking.

Sure, we are all thinking about something from moment to moment, but I wonder how many people sit down to deliberately think about one thing?

In fact, since I sold out of my marketing business in 2007 and have been thinking in a more focused way about thinking, I’ve observed that relatively few people do so deliberately or on a regular basis.

There are a couple of directions that I could approach the subject from (for example brain speed) but it may be easier to look at it in terms of focus.

If you have an imaginary 100 units of focus bandwidth at any one moment and you’re thinking about two different things, for example driving and talking on a  hands-free phone (or even to someone sitting with you in the car), then your focus is split between the tasks to some extent… in this case maybe 70/30.

This may be sufficient focus on driving provided there are no abnormal considerations, but the band-width required to take that split-second action that might have averted an accident is essentially tied up doing something else… in this case listening, thinking and responding.

The same is true if I am running and thinking at the same time, something that I regularly do… with last week’s contemplation of smiling being a case in point.  There my focus was probably biased more towards the thinking, say 30/70, whilst I allowed my subconscious to keep me moving from step to step.  One of the (numerous!) reasons I eschew racing is that the training required is a different task to merely running, or in my case, running and writing a blog about it afterwards.

If I were in training (like Phil) or actually racing, then my focus would need to be more on the running and less on the other cognitive flotsam & jetsam.  Frustratingly however, the mind is easily distracted away from the task in hand and into thinking about other things, for example the past and future, or in Phil’s case, probably into thinking about music!  Take the focus away from running hard and you slow down.

Likewise to my mind, driving requires 100% bandwidth in order to moderate speed and road position according road conditions and (a conscious awareness of) potential hazards, which is why I generally drive with the radio off and never answer my phone.  The habit I have formed here is essentially not to think about anything other than the driving.  My occasional passengers will be familiar with my tendency to stop talking, even mid-sentence, in order to assess a situation ahead.

My route this afternoon (after a shameless lay-in) was exactly the same as last week, chosen in part for the ease with which I could think while I ran.  It was a glorious if somewhat chilly day and I quickly got into a reasonable pace.  The running element of my focus consisted of noticing when I had slowed down and pushing myself on a little, while my head then generally spiralled back to the more cerebral subject addressed by this blog.

I reached the halfway point in 45 minutes, exactly the same time as last week and I made a conscious decision to focus more bandwidth on the running on the way back.  I first focused on my footfall, landing on the outside of my heel and leaving from my big toe as I was taught by Andrea Wright, my super-physio.  I also focused on relaxing my upper body, where the Bok’s trick is to relax the jaw, since the rest of you then seems to relax.  Then, keeping a watching brief on these two elements, I focused mainly on my breathing, in through my nose, out through my mouth, fully and in time to the pace.

Like trying to break any other habit, this was difficult (even for me, where I am conscious about what is going on!) and I found myself back in the earlier subject more than once (my breathing becoming shallow again), but I didn’t beat myself up about it, rather just drawing the focus back into the preferred place.

In general terms I made good time, finishing ten miles in just under 90 minutes, or 6.74mph average.

Whether you are running, driving or working, we should try to be more aware of the bandwidth we are using… and if it is less than 100% (and this wasn’t a conscious decision), then we should focus more clearly on what we’re supposed to be doing.

Keep thinking… and keep smiling too!

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Plenty to smile about

I was humbled that, at Christmas, my folks thanked me for my psychological support during last year.  I find it interesting that that despite being a highly evolved species, it is often the simple stuff that makes a difference to how we think and how we feel.

Take smiling for example.  It may be an automatic response to something we like or find amusing, but if you give yourself a big smile as you sit reading this, your mind will probably disregard the fact that you smiled for no apparent reason and post-rationalise that you’re feeling happy… which you will then feel.  You may even enjoy reading this post more, even though it’s a slightly obscure one.

It was late when I dragged myself from bed this morning and I played my guitar whilst supping my way through two quadspressos… before finally pushing myself out the front door at around twenty to midday.  I have a sense that Michael Apter’s fascinating Reversal Theory applies to my runs as well since, unlike last week, I had no desire to get muddy whatsoever.  In fact I was definitely in a telic (task-focused) mode rather than a playful para-telic!

I opted for my ten-mile pavement route on the basis that I could turn around early if required… the cough that I had all through Christmas is still lingering around, which is why I reluctantly turned down the offer of a run with Mark Johnson yesterday.

You may think that running alongside the road would be somewhat tedious, but I happen to be passionate about cars and motorbikes and it didn’t take long before I found myself smiling inanely at a Kawasaki as it rumbled past.  I smiled at more cars, some without thinking and some deliberately.  A Morgan with the top down, a Boxster, a 911, some MX5s… each time getting a little rush of happiness to ease the physical effort of running.

I smiled at neat new fences and tidy gardens and even at the thought that had clearly gone into the design of a new property on the southern outskirts of Hassocks.  I especially smiled as I acknowledged the people I passed along the route… some of them clearly needed a little extra happiness in their lives, whilst others were as Larry as me!

I reached the 5-mile turn point in 45 minutes… I smiled about that too, since it had felt like hard going.

The return leg was slower and definitely harder work and I was glad that I wasn’t trying to keep up with Mark, but the smiles kept coming.  A new red 911 4S convertible (BIG smile!), an old 911S, a neat new Jag convertible, a Ducati , more people (including some that I passed for a second time), more houses and gardens.

It’s curious how easily we can make life more interesting and less stressful: deciding not to get irritated at groups of people taking up the whole pavement, giving a nervous motorist extra time at a junction without adding to their stress, thanking someone who let us out or sorry to someone we have inconvenienced, saying good morning to elderly neighbours (one of whom stopped to give me a lift to the station as I jogged to catch my train, even though she probably has no idea where I live) or even just giving ourselves a little more time to get to work in the morning, or more space to the car in front of us.

Those of you familiar with my work and my England Garden Gang concept probably realise my wider belief that there are plenty of simple ways to make a difference in our organisations and in society too, with a little additional effort but no great sacrifice… for example keeping our neighbourhoods neat rather than assuming it’s the responsibility of someone else.  There’s plenty of stuff to smile about!

Towards the end of my run I passed several curry houses with their delicious aromas hanging in the stillness of the flat grey day, but rather than smiling this just made me feel hungry… such that I announced an urgent requirement for minestrone soup and toast when I eventually dragged myself back through the front door, quickly to be followed by two cups of tea and two hot cross buns.

10 miles in 1.33, 6.45mph and though my legs are already heavy, I can’t help smiling at the positive effect my run will probably have on my body and soul.

Despite whatever aches you might have, feel free to join me in a BIG smile as you wake up tomorrow morning if you want to improve your chances of having an excellent day!

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Greyday chug down memory lane

Once again I tootled off to my parents house for my run, although having got absorbed in re-reading David Eagleman’s book Incognito, the Secret Lives of the Brain this morning, I was even later in starting out than last week.

Eagleman writes beautifully: ‘Your consciousness is like a tiny stowaway on a transatlantic steamship, taking credit for the journey without acknowledging the massive engineering underfoot’.  If ever there was a great Christmas present for someone who is curious about life, this is it!

I ran up the hill to the top of the village, delighted to see that at least one of the latest units on the old Sunblest Bakery site has been let… clearly to Reflex, the sports nutrition company… nice design guys!

Sunblest, with its neatly kept lawns, had been baking on the site for decades until the early 1990’s and I seem to remember that my eldest brother worked on the doughnut line whilst on break from university in the early 1970’s.  Legend has it that one of the permanent workers asked him what he was studying and when he replied Pure Physics, she said ‘how boring’.

The site slowly decayed from its closure in 1994 until 2002 when it was levelled for redevelopment and this year  (in fact last month!) is the first time that it has been a net visual asset to the village since then.

At the top of the village I turned left and ran across to Brighton Race Course before, on a whim, dropping down the steep steps to Bevendean.

My parents and elder siblings used to take this route to see my grandparents in Moulsecoomb  the 1960’s but unless it was in a pram, I don’t remember having been down here before… probably because my Dad was one of the first people in our street to get a car.

I followed my nose and ended up exiting onto Bear Road, giving me a great opportunity to run up at least the top part of one of the steeper main roads in Brighton.

Back on the racecourse I headed the mile and a half down Wilson’s Avenue to the Marina then turned left and ran down onto the Undercliff Walk.  It was a very different scene to last Sunday, not least since the tide was out.

At Ovingdean I ascended the cliff where I descended last week, the steps seeming somehow less dramatic approached from below.  I then ran up the valley to the church where my good friend Ric, who died in 2009, rests with a marvellous view up towards Woodingdean and down to the sea.

From the church I once again had a steep hill to climb to the ridge at the top of Ovingdean, which I then followed all the way up to Woodingdean Primary School.

When I was growing up there was only a pair of derelict houses next to the school, but my Mother was Chair of the Scout Group working party which erected the Scout hut, from memory in the very early 1970’s.  The group of parents first dismantled the building at it’s original site in Sunbury and then rebuilt it, much to the excitement of all the young scouts at the time.

Since then the derelict houses have also been reborn and the previously utilitarian school has had a neat pitched roof installed.

From the school I crossed the grazing land (which used to be a ploughed field) back to my folks place.  9 miles in 1.43 is a chug at 5.25mph, but to be fair there were a couple of steep hills and more than one pause while I paid my respects to the past.

With only two weeks to go to the deadline, I have but one entry to the competition, published on the Competition Stories page.  Bearing in mind that there are three £40 vouchers up for grabs, it could be well worth your while penning a few words and sending them to me.  I’d hate to have to send two of the vouchers back!

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Abilene amble

After a fun-packed day of sculpting and Scouting yesterday, the alarm this morning was an unwelcome intrusion… especially as it was still dark.  I even fell asleep again on a chair in the space between putting the coffee-pot on and it boiling! But it was all for a good cause as I was meeting Mark at 8am for a run.

Kim and I had returned to Skelton Workshops yesterday for a very pleasant morning to push our sculptures on a little more… it really is such a relaxing environment to work!

Then it was off to Denton for the unveiling of a Blue Plaque, in memory of Ralph Reader of Scouting Gang Show fame, on Cliff & Nessie’s house, which was followed by a mini Gang Show in the local Scout hall.

Last night we had been due to go to a gig in Ardingly, but alas it was cancelled, so instead we used the firewood that Kim had reclaimed last weekend (back when it was hot!) to start the first fire of the season.

This morning was a grey day that threatened heavy rain, but since it was milder than the cold snap in the week, both Mark & I arrived in shorts.  I told Mark that he wouldn’t need his jacket (as I put mine on over a t-shirt) but he wouldn’t listen and stripped to the waist (fortunately from the top down) in the now-filling car-park in order to copy me.

We basically ran to the A27 at Newmarket, with a slight variation on the normal route and then back again.  Neither of us was particularly on form, Mark having picked up a cold from his daughter (for the second time) and me with lingering backache.

Our detour en route took us through the Bronze Age settlements above Plumpton and whilst there were none of our forbears around, it was still lovely to see the landscape where they lived.

Nearing the turn-point, the view of the fields was also worth pausing to capture.

We reached the halfway mark at 1.10, six minutes behind our run with Mach 2 two weeks ago, though some of this difference might have been in the diversion which included a stout hill to climb.  However, the return leg was a slowness of a whole different level… it took us 1.26.  We just got slower and slower.

To be fair, we were, as ever, in deep conversation, but something wasn’t right when a guy walking his dogs caught up with us!  Admittedly he was an ex-runner and was using walking sticks (one of the secrets to our speed in the TMB walk), but it was still disheartening to be caught up with by him not once, but three times in about half a mile!

As we neared the end, Mark admitted that he would have been happy to run a shorter circuit, a feeling that I echoed in spades… a perfect example of the Abilene paradox if ever there was one!  And we didn’t need our jackets either!

So, 14 miles in a laughable 2.36 (I’m not even going to work out how fast that is) before a return to the horizontal on the sofa!

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On your Marks, get set, go

At the point that I met Mark this morning at 8am at Jack & Jill I was feeling a little jaded.  Kim and I had given Karen & Fergus a lift back to East London from an interesting dinner in North London and then driven back to Sussex to arrive very slightly after 3am.  Still, four hours sleep is not bad compared to the first night on the TMB a couple of weeks ago, so I shouldn’t really complain!

The reason for such an early start arrived moments later in the form of another Mark, his being required to work later on in the morning and thus get a run over with early.

We set out and it was quickly clear to me from Mark 2’s easy gait that it was going to be a fast run!  In fact, I reckon that he spells his name Mach!

Surprising then that this was only Mach’s third long run with Mark… although the fact that he is a sprint cyclist might go some way to help explain the obvious power in his legs!

We ran on in an affable way, admiring the scenery as we headed for Blackcap… or rather the path before Blackcap that runs down to Newmarket.

Having had to work hard to keep with the pace, the downhill section finally allowed me to stretch out my legs… but alas, neither of my colleagues was phased in the least by my increased pace.  In fact, when we got to the steep uphill section they continued going like it wasn’t there and disappeared on ahead.

One more downhill and we reached the halfway point in 1.04.

The return leg started as it continued, with Mach stretching out an easy lead up the first hill, Mark following not far behind.

Despite some ungentlemanly behaviour on my part further up the hill (closing a gate behind me and running on, rather than waiting for the Marks), they caught me easily… and again, every time they graciously let me get ahead!

Despite running (way?) more slowly than my companions, I was actually feeling on pretty good form and the dreaded lapse in energy never materialised.  Instead I just ran on (slowly) right to the very end.  I’m not sure whether this was a PB for the route, but it was certainly one of my fastest and I could have run on, which is always a good sign.

So 14 miles in 2.18, almost 6.1mph.  Not bad bearing in mind I’ve not run more than 10 miles for a month.  And a big thank you to the Marks for hanging around for me!

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8 miles followed by a quick shower

I can say unequivocally that I did not want to run, such that I sat in the sun drinking coffee and avoiding it for a couple of hours this morning.  The excuses that I offered myself included a stiff back from an uncomfortable night bivouacking Thursday, exacerbated by bending over a craft table mounting & framing ten of Karen’s photos yesterday for her exhibition which opens near Old St tube next week; a dodgy-feeling left knee which is probably showing accumulated strain from running with a rucsac for the last few weeks; a general sense of tiredness.

At the end of the day though, none of these feature in the Sussex Men’s League list of allowable excuses so I finally got with the programme and launched myself out the door.

Since I had worn my battered old runners on Thursday night, for the sake of prudence, this was the inaugural outing of my new Saucony splodge.  I wore my thicker spring/autumn socks to pad them out to give them a good trial (based on the likelihood of slightly swollen feet in the Alps)… and quickly forgot that I was wearing them!

Other than pausing to say hi to BeerMatt, m route was unremarkable, following the pavement for the oft-followed five miles to the other side of Hassocks… without any hint of a rucsac to give my back a chance to recover.  I wasn’t exactly running quickly and it took me 47 minutes to get to the turn marker.

My body felt as if it has relaxed a little on the return leg and I began to focus on landing on my outside heel and pushing off from my big toe as physio Andrea Wright taught me… not that I was running any much quicker.  Around the 8-mile mark I ran into a very late April shower and within a few paces I was drenched through, such that my phone became as slippery as a bar of soap!

I ran on regardless of the impulse to soap-up and reached home in 45 minutes.

So 10 miles in 1.32, my back feeling looser, but left ankle having come out in sympathy with its adjacent knee and still feeling generally tired.  So what’s new!

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Nighty movers

Three of us ran off into the gathering darkness last night and re-emerged this morning, slightly damper and not so very refreshed from a questionable night’s sleep!

We gathered at Dai’s place in Patcham for a weigh-in last night with both Daren’s pack and mine showing 7.8kg.  Dai’s was 1kg lighter, but then he’s not in training for the TMB!

We ran along to the Ditchling Road, following paths that lay to the East of it to the top of the Downs and then on up to Ditchling Beacon.  Once the last glimmer of light disappeared from the sky there was little to see beyond the limit of the light from the head-torches, or night vision alone where the going was more regular.  We were aware of the hills around us, but the gradients seemed flatted out which made for relatively easy running.

Thus we made reasonable progress, despite the darkness and the weight, making it the 7 miles to Home Hill in about 90 minutes.  Here Dai had previously scoped out a place to bivouac, although it took a little time to find in the scrub.  With firewood collected and a neat fire burning, we rolled out our Gore-Tex bivvy bags and drank hot chocolate cooked on a tiny gas stove.

Then Dai disappeared into the scrub, reappearing minutes later with a bag containing French cheese, Ardennes Pate, Nairn crackers, chocolate and a bottle of red wine!  He had driven up earlier in the day to stash this surprise feast, along with a Basher sheet to make a small shelter.

We feasted merrily around a roaring little fire and agreed that this is about as good as life gets!

Up to this point there had been only random drops of rain in the mildness of the evening, but sometime after bedding down for the night the heavens opened with a vengeance!  In itself this might not have been a problem, but we were trying out three variants of bivouacking fully clothed but sans sleeping bags.

Dai had a sleeping mat and was dry beneath his makeshift shelter, but cold and uncomfortable nevertheless.  Daren had a new lightweight blow-up mat, but this turned out to be a problematic pneumatic as every time he blew it up, it gently let him down again.  Thus he was left cold, uncomfortable, wet when the rain came in through the opening in the bivvy bag… and deflated to boot.

Meanwhile I had borrowed a pre-used Blizzard bag from Pete, which is kind of like a couple of mummy-sized crisp packets inside each other.  It was initially too warm so I lay on top of it within the bivvy bag, but around 2am, with the rain coming down and the Gore-Tex wet to my cold touch, I climbed noisily inside.  It was certainly warmer and dryer, but sadly no less uncomfortable on the hard and bumpy ground and the rest of the night passed very slowly indeed!

When we finally decided to get up just before 6.00am, the rain was on pause and it was a close and misty morning.  In agreement about the extreme level of overnight discomfort, we breakfasted meagrely on tracker bars and more hot chocolate, packed wet gear into our rucsacs and ran off into the morning gloom.

The more direct route back took us past the Chantry memorial, looking beautiful in the mist, and on down to Dai’s place, the 3.3 miles taking us 38 minutes.

So a run over about 10.3 miles in 2.08 truncated by some night manoeuvres… I’m very glad to be back in the warm & dry and nursing my third quadspresso.

And please don’t be surprised if you walk past me today and find me asleep at my desk and with a smile on my face… I’ll be warm and comfortable and almost certainly dreaming about the sumptuous feast from last night.