April 2006 Archives

I'm not sure which was the biggest contributor, but being sick, running later than I'm used to and in the heat of the day, and not getting enough sleep over the past few days all conspired to make today a very difficult run.

I set the alarm last night allowing myself plenty of time to prepare and get there early. I even keep my alarm in a different part of the house so that I can't reach it from the bed. I HAVE to get up to stop it, so there's no chance of going back to sleep. I'll be fine. Unless...

ZzzZzzzZzzzz...

... a brief patch of music filters through in the background...

[Many more ZzzzZZzzz's later....]

... last chance for one last dance. 'Cos with you, I'd withst...

Some time later I awakened properly, to hear music playing really faintly in the background. I had forgotten to turn the volume up, and as a result I slept in an hour. My morning plans went out the window, and I had to scramble to get to the race on time.

I parked a suburb away (abandoned was the idea of using public transport) and walked for 20 minutes or so to where I had arranged to meet up with Mike and Ed before the race. I'd already warmed up from my walk, so we found somewhere to do some stretches and prepare ourselves. It wasn't long before the call came over to head to the starting line, so we made our way through the crowd, with a few digs thrown my way for being the one to come up with such a silly idea in the first place.

At this point I was fairly relaxed, but with some small concern about whether I was going to meet my goal of around 55 minutes. Clouds had come over during the night and it had become somewhat humid, and I knew from recent runs that I was far from my best in the heat. Still, we set out and the first km was a breeze. I was relaxed, breathing well, and maintaining the pace I had planned. Kilometer #2 came and went, and I was feeling fine, but somewhere before the 3km marker the previous week began to take its toll.

By the 4th, my mind had defeated me, the sun was getting to me, so I decided to grab some of the water that was being offered at the first water station. It went straight down the windpipe and I was forced to stop and walk for a minute. After that, the wheels started to come off. I felt sluggish, overheated, and my mind was being brutal. After cruising through a 7.4km last weekend with plenty of energy at the end, I was despairing to be so thoroughly wrecked after only 4.

The last 6 seemed to drag on, and I stopped far too many times to walk when I shouldn't have needed to. I tried to tell myself that I didn't need to walk, but my legs were like lead and my mind didn't have much difficulty convincing the body to give up. I came in at around 1 hour and 8 minutes based on my calculations from when I crossed the start and finish. Almost 20% slower than my typical training run, and far from my goal.

Of all the things that could have gone wrong, the one thing I thought most likely to cause me a setback was, of course, my shins. But surprisingly, after running 10km and walking several to my car and back, I didn't feel even the faintest twinge of complaint from them. I hadn't expected them to hold me back, but I was amazed when they behaved perfectly for the whole event and didn't play up at all.

Since this is my first "race" since I started tracking my runs, today's race is now set as a personal best. I think I was at my worst though, and come July 2nd at the Gold Coast I intend to smash that time. For now though, I'm going to have a shower and eat something.

I got hold of my race kit earlier this week, so in a few short hours I'll be out there ready to run my first race in nearly three years.

I'm a little concerned that I'm not going to run as well as I had hoped. I've been feeling a touch sick all week, with muscle aches and fatigue, and as a result I've done just about everything wrong. I skipped my 4km speed workout on Monday, which should have been my last pre-race run, and I skipped my Wednesday swim, thus making it a week since my last workout. It has also been four or five days since I last massaged my shins, which I should have been doing every night. To top it off, my eating has been poor, and my sleeping habits worse. I hardly ate today when I should have been loading up for the race, and here I am at 12:30am blogging.

*sigh* Well, at least my shins have had plenty of rest and are pain free right now. I'd best get some sleep or I'll be a disaster in the morning. Will post the results when I get home.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda

Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda",
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda",
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda",
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda",
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda",
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

It seems every time I mention the state of my shins they do an about-face within 24 hours, so all I'll really say about them is that they're still there. On second thoughts, perhaps I shouldn't even say that! Remind me to check that's still true this time tomorrow. Maybe I should say that they've been terrible, in the hopes that they'll do their usual backflip and be superb for next week's race. If only.

Suffice it to say that my concerns about having to miss the Anzac Day 10km run at the Brisbane Marathon are a thing of the past. I'm ready for it, I've paid my entry fee, and I'm going to run it in under an hour. Just how much under an hour still remains to be seen.

I'll be wanting to push myself to make April 30 my best run yet, but I'll be judging how hard I push it based on how my shins feel throughout. 10km isn't likely to kill them, though, and I'll be resting them for most of the coming week, so I think they'll behave. Today's 7.4km run is the last "near tenish" run I have planned until the race, so they should be nicely rested come race day.
In other news, fellow breakingthetaper Jeff (also lovingly known as the Amazing Hip!) ran the Boston Marathon earlier this week and came in with a fantastic time, returning to us with some uplifting and inspirational commentary on his attitude and approach to the event. I think all of the people who ever read this blog probably know Jeff anyway, but if you don't, stop by his site and have a read. He's a fantastic guy, inspirational runner, and a true friend. Stop by and learn something about yourself.

Sometimes, a workout is measured a success just by having a pulse when you're done.

Why is it that we choose to let ourselves slip so far? Surely when we allow ourselves to be distracted from our training, we know in the back of our minds that we're eventually going to want to start up again. And you'll never convince me that anyone ever forgot what those initial few exercise sessions are like - how brutal they are - yet most of us subject ourselves to it time and again by taking a break once in a while. A couple of months. A year. "It'll be okay", we try to justify.

In the case of my swimming, it's been about four years. Why did I stop doing laps in the local pool? Why haven't I kept it up over those years? Fear, I think. Being overly self-conscious. Laziness. All it would take would be to set aside an hour maybe once or twice per week. More would be better, but even once per week over the last four years would have made a huge difference to my swimming ability. In my current job (which I've held for the whole of that time) I could just slip away to the local pool during my lunch break. Instead, I gave it up so that I could subject myself to days like today.

500 metres sounds like nothing, but when you've done no upper body exercise in a while (I stopped going to the gym at around the same time I quit swimming), the first 100 has your mind screaming "OH GOD, MAKE IT STOP!".

I ask of all of you : If I stop again, please remind me of this day.

Say that three times fast.

Against my podiatrist's advice, I went ahead last night with my pre-planned squash match. I had been looking forward to it and really didn't want to cancel. Now, before anyone condemns me, breaks out the marshmallows, and torches me at the stake, I DID promise to take it easy and make sure I didn't work my shins too hard.

Actually, technically speaking I didn't even play. It's been over ten years since I last set foot in a squash court, so you could say that my friend played squash, while I fumbled about butchering the squash ball. She was gracious enough not to make fun of me.

Nothing but cycling on the books now until Monday the 10th (Sunday for everyone on the slower side of the planet!), when I take up the running again by joining my river running group from work and break out my new Saucony Omnis for their maiden journey.

Speaking of cycling, I started a little late for my ride this morning, and it's amazing how much of a difference it makes when you have the full sun beating down on you - even in the slightly cooler months - as opposed to heading out at 5:30 am. I still had a great ride, but when I stopped I could have happily curled up on the concrete and passed out for a couple of hours. But, the call of the blog proved stronger than the urge to shut down, so you're just going to have to put up with me.