After a night of tossing and turning, and waking afraid that I had overslept and missed out, I rose early to prepare for entering the Routeburn Classic. As the countdown to 7am progressed, I stood in front of my laptop, refreshing the internet page, and waiting for the agonizing last seconds to tick by until the entries opened.
7am came and went, and I couldn't access the page, refresh, refresh, refresh...still nothing, don't panic, the internet connection at home can be a bit dodgy, so surely I would be able to get through if I kept trying.
Seven fifteen and then seven thirty ticked by, still nothing, I must have missed out by now, and any way I had to leave for work. I was bitterly disappointed.
My better half kindly tried again for me an hour or two later, and apparently the server failed, entries were postponed, and I hadn't missed out.
Phew.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Friday, February 1, 2013
Tussock Traverse
Standing at the starting area on the slopes of Mt Ruapehu in bright sunlight and the cool crisp mountain air at 9:30 in the morning, the central plateau stretching out behind, and the Tongariro Crossing in front - definitely the most picturesque place I have ever qued for a port-a-loo.
We bussed off early from National Park, passing the steaming Mt Tongariro, and bumping our way across the volcanic desert onto the side of Ruapehu. Several hundred competitors waited in line for their final pre-race loo opportunity (DOC had issued strict instructions to avoid mass bladder voiding at the start line much to the chagrin of the runners in the que behind me.
These complainers,middle aged men, boasted their impressive running C.V.s in between abusing DOC (for restricting a man's right to pee in the wild) and loudly stating that they had purposely chosen the line with the least females in it, women taking so much longer because there weren't mirrors in the port-a-loos in which to check/adjust/apply make up. The women around me, hardened athletes every one, discussed their enjoyment of the scenery and recommended races, gear, food and travel destinations, managing to complete their pre-race rituals with little regard for applying anything other than sunscreen. My turn for the loo eventually came just before the complainers behind me (everyone seemed to be taking their sweet-toileting-time), and I had to chuckle to myself, there WAS a mirror behind the door inside.
We had transponders attached to our laces, so once the starting horn was sounded, individual timing commenced as soon as we crossed the blue mats on the start line. I had not raced with a transponder before, and had laced mine through the last cross on my shoe. I saw that other runners cable-tied, or used string to secure their transponders, something that I will probably do next time.
0km
Off. Up the hill (quite steep). I started running, but the press and pace of other runners was so great that we ended up walking after a couple of hundred meters. Power walked to the top of the first climb. Reddish-grey rock and gravel extended in front, and beyond that, the snow smeared sides of volcanic Ruapehu, sooty and dirty looking from recent geothermal activity.
2km
Reached the top of the climb, the power walk nicely warming up my legs. I had been walking with my friend from last weekend, chatting away, and taking photos, but on beginning the descent she shot away, and I got stuck behind another competitor, and I didn't see her again until the finish. The downhill I quite enjoyed, it was steep and technical with loose rocks, sand and scrubby bushes. I was able to travel quite fast, but my progress was some what impeded by other runners, who concentrating on their own descent, were quite oblivious to those behind who wished to pass. I can not stand the feeling of someone traveling close behind me, and would much rather let them pass, I would hate to think that my bumbling running was holding up a faster, or more experienced athlete, so I endeavored to let anyone behind me pass where ever I could.
Reaching the valley floor was amazing, the alien landscape - like running on the moon. I was able to speed up, and even though I had had almost no experience of running in such a rocky and sandy environment, I was able to plan my route ahead with my eyes, and really enjoyed the challenge of the terrain.
6km
The volcanic-valley-moonscape gave way to slightly hillier vegetative landscape. The track cut deeply (sometimes to shoulder height) into the banks in some places and widened into deep sand. Sand running required a different momentum altogether, and it took me a few minutes to settle into the sand-running rhythm. I kept thinking to myself, wow I am running in the most incredible place.
10km
We crossed some streams, and started climbing again. The first few km flew by. I was feeling good, and was enjoying being fit enough to be able to power walk up the steeper sections. The trail headed towards Mt Ngauruhoe climbing and descending through rocky and tussocky terrain.
12km
Somewhere between the 12km and 14km mark I crashed. My energy just ran out. I stumbled on with my run, but every step my legs felt like lead. The heat of the sun was beating down, and even slowing to a walk, I felt like I was in hell. The run up to this point had been amazing, but now every step was a mammoth effort. I guess that this was me hitting the wall. I struggled on for about 4 or 5km, feeling a bit dizzy, mostly feeling gutted that I was going to have to walk half of this race. Despite the fact that I was drained, empty and hungry, I was frustrated – if I had properly fueled I could have kept going.
 |
| Waiting for the race start - Mt Ruapehu in the background |
These complainers,middle aged men, boasted their impressive running C.V.s in between abusing DOC (for restricting a man's right to pee in the wild) and loudly stating that they had purposely chosen the line with the least females in it, women taking so much longer because there weren't mirrors in the port-a-loos in which to check/adjust/apply make up. The women around me, hardened athletes every one, discussed their enjoyment of the scenery and recommended races, gear, food and travel destinations, managing to complete their pre-race rituals with little regard for applying anything other than sunscreen. My turn for the loo eventually came just before the complainers behind me (everyone seemed to be taking their sweet-toileting-time), and I had to chuckle to myself, there WAS a mirror behind the door inside.
We had transponders attached to our laces, so once the starting horn was sounded, individual timing commenced as soon as we crossed the blue mats on the start line. I had not raced with a transponder before, and had laced mine through the last cross on my shoe. I saw that other runners cable-tied, or used string to secure their transponders, something that I will probably do next time.
0km
Off. Up the hill (quite steep). I started running, but the press and pace of other runners was so great that we ended up walking after a couple of hundred meters. Power walked to the top of the first climb. Reddish-grey rock and gravel extended in front, and beyond that, the snow smeared sides of volcanic Ruapehu, sooty and dirty looking from recent geothermal activity.
2km
Reached the top of the climb, the power walk nicely warming up my legs. I had been walking with my friend from last weekend, chatting away, and taking photos, but on beginning the descent she shot away, and I got stuck behind another competitor, and I didn't see her again until the finish. The downhill I quite enjoyed, it was steep and technical with loose rocks, sand and scrubby bushes. I was able to travel quite fast, but my progress was some what impeded by other runners, who concentrating on their own descent, were quite oblivious to those behind who wished to pass. I can not stand the feeling of someone traveling close behind me, and would much rather let them pass, I would hate to think that my bumbling running was holding up a faster, or more experienced athlete, so I endeavored to let anyone behind me pass where ever I could.
Reaching the valley floor was amazing, the alien landscape - like running on the moon. I was able to speed up, and even though I had had almost no experience of running in such a rocky and sandy environment, I was able to plan my route ahead with my eyes, and really enjoyed the challenge of the terrain.
6km
The volcanic-valley-moonscape gave way to slightly hillier vegetative landscape. The track cut deeply (sometimes to shoulder height) into the banks in some places and widened into deep sand. Sand running required a different momentum altogether, and it took me a few minutes to settle into the sand-running rhythm. I kept thinking to myself, wow I am running in the most incredible place.
10km
We crossed some streams, and started climbing again. The first few km flew by. I was feeling good, and was enjoying being fit enough to be able to power walk up the steeper sections. The trail headed towards Mt Ngauruhoe climbing and descending through rocky and tussocky terrain.
12km
Somewhere between the 12km and 14km mark I crashed. My energy just ran out. I stumbled on with my run, but every step my legs felt like lead. The heat of the sun was beating down, and even slowing to a walk, I felt like I was in hell. The run up to this point had been amazing, but now every step was a mammoth effort. I guess that this was me hitting the wall. I struggled on for about 4 or 5km, feeling a bit dizzy, mostly feeling gutted that I was going to have to walk half of this race. Despite the fact that I was drained, empty and hungry, I was frustrated – if I had properly fueled I could have kept going.
In retrospect I can attribute my loss of energy to not
eating enough pre-race, and not carrying enough fuel for the race itself.
16km
By the 16km mark I was aching to start running again, and
made a few stumbling attempts on down-hill sections. I persevered, and started running more and
more, taking on great long sections, but still only able to walk up the steep
sections. Then my second wind came and I
was away. Oh the bliss and the joy of being able to run again. My tired and hungry brain rejoiced – I had
passed through the fire and come out the other side, and I was running.
18km
Only 8km to go, and we were starting to climb again, the
long uphill’s followed by the easier and longer down. A welcome and refreshing mountain breeze
sprung up. More alpiney-tussocky ups and downs. The sun beating down. I kept running.
20km
ONLY 6km to go! Easy, I cover that sort of distance in a fun run. I picked up the pace. The trail was mostly descending now, and Chateau Tongariro came into view. I could practically see the finish line.
I descended about 700 (or maybe it was only 50) super steep steps, my tired eyes making the steps swim under my tired and not-going-down-steps-cooperatively legs. Then a stunning waterfall. I took a photograph without breaking stride.
24km
Only a couple of kms to go. We plunged into bush and I sped up, galloping along, every turn, I was sure would reveal the finish line. Keep going, keep going legs. The bush was lusciously cool.
Still no finish line, these last couple of km seemed to stretch out longer than the entire distance I had thus far covered. And, to add insult to injury, I was climbing again, and then into the blistering heat. Surely, surely I must have traveled 4km by now!
A trail side sign "Look Up and Smile for the Photographer". I looked up and grimaced madly at the lens.
Then I heard the loudspeaker, and rounding the final corner, crossed into the finish area. Runners and supporters surrounded the finish area and cheered while the compare announced "Kat - finishing with a big smile. And I did. And I had made the "sub-four-hour club"!
I met up with my friend again who had finished some time before me. We lounged about in the sun, celebrating our accomplishment with chocolate milk and cheering on the other finishers. Wicked.
I met up with my friend again who had finished some time before me. We lounged about in the sun, celebrating our accomplishment with chocolate milk and cheering on the other finishers. Wicked.
 |
| Post run feet and shoes - covered in volcano |
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Less than a week...
...Until entries open for the Routeburn Classic. I have nightmares that I will sleep in and miss out. Can't wait.
Super Seven #2
The concept is simple, seven fun runs, 7km each, seven weeks in a row. I missed the first run in the series, but rocked up last night after work, on one of the warmer evenings that 2013 has provided so far. There were hundreds of people there, babies in push chairs, kids, teens, parents, athletes and amateurs.
In the golden haze of the warm evening sun, we were counted down to the start, and dashed off over the grass. The field was so large and bottle necked for the first km that everyone was forced to a walk through some of the narrower sections.
It was quite a new experience starting a run with so many people, and quite the bolster to my self esteem to be able to pass so many other runners until I settled into a group of similar pace. I find it hard not to pass other runners just for the fierce and competitive joy of passing (I inevitably slow down after the pass, and they pass me again, probably laughing), but managed to reel in my pride, and settled into a steady pace after a fast couple of km.
The course itself was lovely, and followed the river, complete with TWO drinks stations and smiling marshals at every turn. The pace was faster that I have been used to for the longer runs and half marathons I have been completing, so I tried to treat this fun run as counting towards my speed training for the week.
I finished fast and strong, pulling out all the stops for the last km and really pushing hard over the last couple of hundred meters to the finish. Now that I am familiar with the course I will be able to pace myself better in future attempts.
I saw some fab footage today of Anna Frost running up Mt Taranaki, it was an education to see her speed and form, and that her success comes not from madly bashing up the side of mountains red faced and exhausted (like a faster version of myself), but that she is amazingly fit, seemingly galloping up the mountainside at about 100km/hr without even breaking a sweat or getting out of breath. Wow. But then I suppose that is why she is an international superstar.
Only a couple of sleeps to go until the Tussock Traverse! Exciting! It looks as through the weather will be good, so I am really looking forward to a run in the mountains, crisp alpine air and brilliant views.
In the golden haze of the warm evening sun, we were counted down to the start, and dashed off over the grass. The field was so large and bottle necked for the first km that everyone was forced to a walk through some of the narrower sections.
It was quite a new experience starting a run with so many people, and quite the bolster to my self esteem to be able to pass so many other runners until I settled into a group of similar pace. I find it hard not to pass other runners just for the fierce and competitive joy of passing (I inevitably slow down after the pass, and they pass me again, probably laughing), but managed to reel in my pride, and settled into a steady pace after a fast couple of km.
The course itself was lovely, and followed the river, complete with TWO drinks stations and smiling marshals at every turn. The pace was faster that I have been used to for the longer runs and half marathons I have been completing, so I tried to treat this fun run as counting towards my speed training for the week.
I finished fast and strong, pulling out all the stops for the last km and really pushing hard over the last couple of hundred meters to the finish. Now that I am familiar with the course I will be able to pace myself better in future attempts.
I saw some fab footage today of Anna Frost running up Mt Taranaki, it was an education to see her speed and form, and that her success comes not from madly bashing up the side of mountains red faced and exhausted (like a faster version of myself), but that she is amazingly fit, seemingly galloping up the mountainside at about 100km/hr without even breaking a sweat or getting out of breath. Wow. But then I suppose that is why she is an international superstar.
Only a couple of sleeps to go until the Tussock Traverse! Exciting! It looks as through the weather will be good, so I am really looking forward to a run in the mountains, crisp alpine air and brilliant views.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Hutt River Trail Event
We started off bright and early for the drive to Petone, the weather looking grey and menacing. I hadn't done any running in the week leading up to this half marathon trail run because I felt an inkling of a cold, and didn't want to invite the full-blown sickness by stressing my body. This lack of training made me feel a bit nervous and under-prepared.
The small contingent of runners for the half marathon leg piled into the shuttle to transport us to the start line. During the ride, my per-race nerves set in stronger than ever. The other entrants looked wildly fit and streamlined, and I had to remind myself over and over again that I was running this race against myself. I even found myself wondering if, with my weeks gap in training, I would still even be able to run, would my legs still work?
A few more runners joined us at the start line, and we stood, stretched and warmed up in the freezing morning wind, cheering the marathon and ultra marathon runners from the same event as the headed past. Eventually we counted down to the start, and set off. I found myself running next to another young competitor, and we started chatting, laughing that we were only just keeping pace with the race walkers.
My new companion had an impressive running CV, having completed the London Marathon (among others), several races in the UK (her home country) and was running three races this weekend (including the one we were enjoying). She told me that she was planning to enter a 90km ultra marathon in South Africa. WOW. As the race progressed we talked about life, the universe and everything, mostly laughing. It was a new experience to share the run with someone else, and to be able to keep up a conversation along the whole route. Our running pace was rather similar, but my companion could have kept going all day I think and had heaps in reserve to boost it to the finish line. The trail itself followed the river, which was mostly obscured by trees, and was flat with some gentle undulations.
The good company and the conversation meant that half the distance was completed before I even noticed. The other competitors were friendly and encouraging as we passed, and I really enjoyed giving the ultra marathon runners a cheer as they powered past - heros every one.
I carried my Camelbak, and guzzled down plenty of water and a couple of GU chomps as well as a gel towards the final 5km mark. I had a lot more energy for this race (compared with the Three Bridges Half), and ran the whole distance without a single walking break. I started the race wearing three layers, but as the race progressed the weather improved, and became quite hot and humid, so I shed a couple, much to the humor of my companion, who couldn't believe I was wearing so much.
We picked up the pace with only a couple of km to go. I was starting to fade, but my friend urged me on, refusing to let me give an inch. I pushed harder and, feeling like I was going to puke, forced my legs to keep pumping all the way to the finish, receiving the obligatory post-race banana (delicious) and lift plus (revolting). After lying on the ground and regaining control of my breathing and vomit reflex (without chucking, I proudly add), my new friend and I guzzled chocolate milk (much, much nicer than yucky lift plus, and a much better recovery drink). She is also planning to run the Tussock Traverse next weekend, and I am looking forward to seeing a familiar face at the next race.
Having running company was really nice, and confirms that I should join my local running club - it is so nice to be able to share like experiences, advice and stories, and very nice to laugh my way through a whole half marathon.
The small contingent of runners for the half marathon leg piled into the shuttle to transport us to the start line. During the ride, my per-race nerves set in stronger than ever. The other entrants looked wildly fit and streamlined, and I had to remind myself over and over again that I was running this race against myself. I even found myself wondering if, with my weeks gap in training, I would still even be able to run, would my legs still work?
A few more runners joined us at the start line, and we stood, stretched and warmed up in the freezing morning wind, cheering the marathon and ultra marathon runners from the same event as the headed past. Eventually we counted down to the start, and set off. I found myself running next to another young competitor, and we started chatting, laughing that we were only just keeping pace with the race walkers.
My new companion had an impressive running CV, having completed the London Marathon (among others), several races in the UK (her home country) and was running three races this weekend (including the one we were enjoying). She told me that she was planning to enter a 90km ultra marathon in South Africa. WOW. As the race progressed we talked about life, the universe and everything, mostly laughing. It was a new experience to share the run with someone else, and to be able to keep up a conversation along the whole route. Our running pace was rather similar, but my companion could have kept going all day I think and had heaps in reserve to boost it to the finish line. The trail itself followed the river, which was mostly obscured by trees, and was flat with some gentle undulations.
The good company and the conversation meant that half the distance was completed before I even noticed. The other competitors were friendly and encouraging as we passed, and I really enjoyed giving the ultra marathon runners a cheer as they powered past - heros every one.
I carried my Camelbak, and guzzled down plenty of water and a couple of GU chomps as well as a gel towards the final 5km mark. I had a lot more energy for this race (compared with the Three Bridges Half), and ran the whole distance without a single walking break. I started the race wearing three layers, but as the race progressed the weather improved, and became quite hot and humid, so I shed a couple, much to the humor of my companion, who couldn't believe I was wearing so much.
We picked up the pace with only a couple of km to go. I was starting to fade, but my friend urged me on, refusing to let me give an inch. I pushed harder and, feeling like I was going to puke, forced my legs to keep pumping all the way to the finish, receiving the obligatory post-race banana (delicious) and lift plus (revolting). After lying on the ground and regaining control of my breathing and vomit reflex (without chucking, I proudly add), my new friend and I guzzled chocolate milk (much, much nicer than yucky lift plus, and a much better recovery drink). She is also planning to run the Tussock Traverse next weekend, and I am looking forward to seeing a familiar face at the next race.
Having running company was really nice, and confirms that I should join my local running club - it is so nice to be able to share like experiences, advice and stories, and very nice to laugh my way through a whole half marathon.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Hills
I am pleased to announce the full return of my running mojo! I have felt well energized and motivated all week, and have enjoyed a couple of really good (and rewarding) runs. I have entered my first running event of 2013 (the Hutt Valley Trail Event) which is on next weekend (excited!) and have even managed to earn a little extra money to help fuel my running habit.
The most exciting news of all it that I have finally found an excellent steep hill training ground, which has quelled all of my angst about getting enough hill work in before the Routeburn Classic. The 14km return trail climbs 300m (almost straight up) before following the ridge-line and descending the same distance to the turn around point, then returning via the same route. On Thursday I did ran the whole 300m climb (which was wicked) with only a couple of 30 sec pauses. It was definitely hard work, but beaut running through trees to emerge so much higher up at the look out. I saw heaps of walkers and a couple of other runners, so it is a popular trail. The downhill return felt longer than the initial uphill slog, and I was careful to keep my stride in check and to try and minimise the impact on such a steep slope. It was such a nice feeling to run down thinking ("holy crap, I ran up this? that's steep and consequently rather impressive"). My quads and gluts have been reminding me of how well I did, and its nice to know that I have given my muscles a bit of a run for their money, and working on something new.
My next goal is to make the entire climb without stopping, and then to be able to complete the return climb without stopping too! Its fantastic to have found a really challenging training ground.
My friend Kristy is planning to enter the AMI Round the Bays 1/2 marathon that I am also planning to run. She is light-years faster than me, and stands a good chance of doing really well if she achieves her sub 1:30 goal (the sort of time that I can only dream of at this stage, but then I suppose that the field needs some rather slow runners, to make the fast runners feel really good about their excellence). It will be nice to enter an event with a friend (even though she will finish an hour before me :-) GO KRISTY GO!
Next week, the local running club starts hosting weekly 7km fun runs which I am planning to attend for some extra and sightly faster paced training, so I have heaps of running-y goodness to look forward to.
Yay for running and yay for 2013.
The most exciting news of all it that I have finally found an excellent steep hill training ground, which has quelled all of my angst about getting enough hill work in before the Routeburn Classic. The 14km return trail climbs 300m (almost straight up) before following the ridge-line and descending the same distance to the turn around point, then returning via the same route. On Thursday I did ran the whole 300m climb (which was wicked) with only a couple of 30 sec pauses. It was definitely hard work, but beaut running through trees to emerge so much higher up at the look out. I saw heaps of walkers and a couple of other runners, so it is a popular trail. The downhill return felt longer than the initial uphill slog, and I was careful to keep my stride in check and to try and minimise the impact on such a steep slope. It was such a nice feeling to run down thinking ("holy crap, I ran up this? that's steep and consequently rather impressive"). My quads and gluts have been reminding me of how well I did, and its nice to know that I have given my muscles a bit of a run for their money, and working on something new.
My next goal is to make the entire climb without stopping, and then to be able to complete the return climb without stopping too! Its fantastic to have found a really challenging training ground.
My friend Kristy is planning to enter the AMI Round the Bays 1/2 marathon that I am also planning to run. She is light-years faster than me, and stands a good chance of doing really well if she achieves her sub 1:30 goal (the sort of time that I can only dream of at this stage, but then I suppose that the field needs some rather slow runners, to make the fast runners feel really good about their excellence). It will be nice to enter an event with a friend (even though she will finish an hour before me :-) GO KRISTY GO!
Next week, the local running club starts hosting weekly 7km fun runs which I am planning to attend for some extra and sightly faster paced training, so I have heaps of running-y goodness to look forward to.
Yay for running and yay for 2013.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Balance
I have read quite a few articles about over-doing the training; articles that proclaim the benefits of rest, relaxation and recovery, accounts that warn of runners that don't pay attention to the niggles and pains that are really your body telling you to take a break, and blogs about athletes whose bodies give out under the stress of heat, effort and endurance. But the question I occasionally (and somewhat recently) struggle with is really knowing when to rest, or when to push on.
Surely 3/4 of the way through a challenging race that I am well prepared for is not the time to give in to the niggles and the exhaustion, I need to "push-through" to reach my goals, to achieve more and to better my running self (ahh, such a metaphor for life et cetera). But then how do I apply this tactic to training?
Last week I covered more than 90km in seven days of runs. The individual runs varied in distance, speed, terrain and environment, likewise my energy and stamina varied. A weekly distance of 90km is a goal that I would like to maintain, and I have built up to this sort of distance over a reasonably long time, but this week I just haven't had the energy (or the motivation) to do the same sort of distance.
After a couple of days I began to wonder if I had unwittingly achieved the dreaded over doing it. The worst thing has been the lack of motivation (I don't normally need an excuse to get out the door), and I thought that maybe I had reached the end of my running road (again with the metaphors). So despite a lot of me feeling that I should be out training, but not actually wanting to get out there and do it, I decided instead to try a bit of resting.
Every runner knows that sitting about when you are used to clocking up kilometers is hard, but I decided to listen to that inner voice, and chose not to head out the door again until I felt motivated to - on some level my body would know that I was ready to go again, and my motivation would be allowed back.
This tactic lasted for two days, then I headed out for some interval training, just a little light sprinting and sweating, I enjoyed the run, but still didn't feel that I had the same up-and-go I was used too. A couple of days later I took the dog to the beach and incorporated a short run in the sand dunes (a quad and lung workout and a half) and felt refreshed and elated afterwards.
I got some back issues of Runners World from the library, as well as some training guides, and made myself sit on the couch for the rest of the week, absorbing advice and enjoying other runners' stories... and magically the motivation and my energy levels have come creeping back.
I am planning to ease back into my training regime with some shorter runs to begin with. I want to continue to increase my weekly mileage, stamina and endurance, but the trick will be to achieve that without sacrificing my ability (or urge) to train at all.
Surely 3/4 of the way through a challenging race that I am well prepared for is not the time to give in to the niggles and the exhaustion, I need to "push-through" to reach my goals, to achieve more and to better my running self (ahh, such a metaphor for life et cetera). But then how do I apply this tactic to training?
Last week I covered more than 90km in seven days of runs. The individual runs varied in distance, speed, terrain and environment, likewise my energy and stamina varied. A weekly distance of 90km is a goal that I would like to maintain, and I have built up to this sort of distance over a reasonably long time, but this week I just haven't had the energy (or the motivation) to do the same sort of distance.
After a couple of days I began to wonder if I had unwittingly achieved the dreaded over doing it. The worst thing has been the lack of motivation (I don't normally need an excuse to get out the door), and I thought that maybe I had reached the end of my running road (again with the metaphors). So despite a lot of me feeling that I should be out training, but not actually wanting to get out there and do it, I decided instead to try a bit of resting.
Every runner knows that sitting about when you are used to clocking up kilometers is hard, but I decided to listen to that inner voice, and chose not to head out the door again until I felt motivated to - on some level my body would know that I was ready to go again, and my motivation would be allowed back.
This tactic lasted for two days, then I headed out for some interval training, just a little light sprinting and sweating, I enjoyed the run, but still didn't feel that I had the same up-and-go I was used too. A couple of days later I took the dog to the beach and incorporated a short run in the sand dunes (a quad and lung workout and a half) and felt refreshed and elated afterwards.
I got some back issues of Runners World from the library, as well as some training guides, and made myself sit on the couch for the rest of the week, absorbing advice and enjoying other runners' stories... and magically the motivation and my energy levels have come creeping back.
I am planning to ease back into my training regime with some shorter runs to begin with. I want to continue to increase my weekly mileage, stamina and endurance, but the trick will be to achieve that without sacrificing my ability (or urge) to train at all.
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