I eat hills!
Feb. 16th, 2013 04:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
khiemtranSo, Saturday morning, and, as usual, I'm out the door before dawn and heading off on my weekly "long run". This time it's a half-marathon: the 21 km circuit to Cronulla and back...
I've done this run several times already, but I've always struggled on the final three kilometre segment. It's not particularly steep, but it's uphill ALL the way and if your legs have started failing it can be agony. (Amusingly, it only takes about about two minutes to cover the distance by car and a driver might not even notice that it is all uphill - running certainly gives you a different perspective on geometry!)
Anyway, last Sunday, before my swim, I did a short ten kilometre run than included that final hill and proved to myself that, as long as I arrive at the bottom of it in reasonable shape, there's nothing particular daunting about the hill itself. The only trick today will be staying in reasonable shape over the first seventeen kilometres...
At 5:20 am, it's still very dark and the sky is full of stars. There's no moon to be seen and the streetlights give just enough light to make running feasible. There are enough dark shadows around to make things edgy, even though (or maybe because) there's hardly a soul about.
It doesn't take long before I find my rhythm and soon I'm clocking along at an easy endurance pace. My mind is busy thinking about work, and before long I've zoned out and I'm surprised to find I'm already halfway to the beach. By then, the sun has risen, but it's hidden by a bank of clouds that wasn't visible when I first set out.
My mind goes back to work matters again, and suddenly, I'm nearly at Cronulla. I reach the service station where I planned to have a drink stop, but I'm feeling so good, I decide to press on and get a drink on the way back.
The sea turns out to be gorgeous. Unlike the file picture below, the sea is a vivid green and while the surf is high, the enclosed pools are like mirrors.
It's a special moment jogging along the seashore, but already I can see rain clouds moving in. Sure enough, by the time I turn around at the furthest point of my run, the rain has already started. Now comes the hard part. One of features of my home suburb is that it's on something of a hill, which means that all my runs by necessity involve an outward leg that's mostly downhill and a return leg that's mostly uphill. I leave the beach, stop to buy a Gatorade at the service station I passed earlier, and then slowly get stuck into the uphill.
The last time I tried this run, I found that things started going wrong at around the one hour fifteen mark. Since then, I've working over shorter distances to be able to run for at least an hour and a half without muscle failure. But an hour and a half will only get me to that start of that final, killer hill.
Up, up, up, I go. Not worrying about speed, just concentrating on keeping going. I eat hills! Slowly. I probably look like I'm going ridiculously slowly, but I don't care. I'm doing my best to conserve the glycogen in my muscles for the final climb. Bit by bit I chug away. It's harder for my mind to wander now, by I distract myself by thinking about various projects. I'm at the halfway point now, and still in good shape. Oh, but the after an extended downhill segment, I can feel my legs starting to tighten. Just as well that's the last downhill bit for this little exercise.
I've drifted off again, and then suddenly I'm at the start of the killer hill. All being well, I should be able to do the final stretch in just half an hour, as long as I can keep my legs from failing. Gently, gently, I tell myself. Speed is not as important as keeping going. Up we go, at what feels like an embarrassingly slow trot. I can feel muscles twinge-ing and aching, but at least they're holding out. I'm over the steepest part of the climb now, but now comes the long, long grind. The kind where, just when you think you're near the end, you realise there's another whole uphill stretch you need to cover. Just like now, as I approach what seems like the last ... wait a minute! This is the last set of lights! I'm almost there!
The final stretch pushes me to the limit, but as I reach the top and begin the descent down to my house, I can feel my energy returning. My rhythm picks up and I even manage to lengthen my stride as I cover the last few streets to my house. I've covered the last segment in just under half a hour. All up, I've covered the half marathon distance in two and a half hours - slow for a serious runner, but a triumph for me. Just as importantly, for the first time, I've covered the entire distance without being forced to stop on any of the hills.
The next step? Well, now I'm going to do it again next week...
I've done this run several times already, but I've always struggled on the final three kilometre segment. It's not particularly steep, but it's uphill ALL the way and if your legs have started failing it can be agony. (Amusingly, it only takes about about two minutes to cover the distance by car and a driver might not even notice that it is all uphill - running certainly gives you a different perspective on geometry!)
Anyway, last Sunday, before my swim, I did a short ten kilometre run than included that final hill and proved to myself that, as long as I arrive at the bottom of it in reasonable shape, there's nothing particular daunting about the hill itself. The only trick today will be staying in reasonable shape over the first seventeen kilometres...
At 5:20 am, it's still very dark and the sky is full of stars. There's no moon to be seen and the streetlights give just enough light to make running feasible. There are enough dark shadows around to make things edgy, even though (or maybe because) there's hardly a soul about.
It doesn't take long before I find my rhythm and soon I'm clocking along at an easy endurance pace. My mind is busy thinking about work, and before long I've zoned out and I'm surprised to find I'm already halfway to the beach. By then, the sun has risen, but it's hidden by a bank of clouds that wasn't visible when I first set out.
My mind goes back to work matters again, and suddenly, I'm nearly at Cronulla. I reach the service station where I planned to have a drink stop, but I'm feeling so good, I decide to press on and get a drink on the way back.
The sea turns out to be gorgeous. Unlike the file picture below, the sea is a vivid green and while the surf is high, the enclosed pools are like mirrors.
It's a special moment jogging along the seashore, but already I can see rain clouds moving in. Sure enough, by the time I turn around at the furthest point of my run, the rain has already started. Now comes the hard part. One of features of my home suburb is that it's on something of a hill, which means that all my runs by necessity involve an outward leg that's mostly downhill and a return leg that's mostly uphill. I leave the beach, stop to buy a Gatorade at the service station I passed earlier, and then slowly get stuck into the uphill.
The last time I tried this run, I found that things started going wrong at around the one hour fifteen mark. Since then, I've working over shorter distances to be able to run for at least an hour and a half without muscle failure. But an hour and a half will only get me to that start of that final, killer hill.
Up, up, up, I go. Not worrying about speed, just concentrating on keeping going. I eat hills! Slowly. I probably look like I'm going ridiculously slowly, but I don't care. I'm doing my best to conserve the glycogen in my muscles for the final climb. Bit by bit I chug away. It's harder for my mind to wander now, by I distract myself by thinking about various projects. I'm at the halfway point now, and still in good shape. Oh, but the after an extended downhill segment, I can feel my legs starting to tighten. Just as well that's the last downhill bit for this little exercise.
I've drifted off again, and then suddenly I'm at the start of the killer hill. All being well, I should be able to do the final stretch in just half an hour, as long as I can keep my legs from failing. Gently, gently, I tell myself. Speed is not as important as keeping going. Up we go, at what feels like an embarrassingly slow trot. I can feel muscles twinge-ing and aching, but at least they're holding out. I'm over the steepest part of the climb now, but now comes the long, long grind. The kind where, just when you think you're near the end, you realise there's another whole uphill stretch you need to cover. Just like now, as I approach what seems like the last ... wait a minute! This is the last set of lights! I'm almost there!
The final stretch pushes me to the limit, but as I reach the top and begin the descent down to my house, I can feel my energy returning. My rhythm picks up and I even manage to lengthen my stride as I cover the last few streets to my house. I've covered the last segment in just under half a hour. All up, I've covered the half marathon distance in two and a half hours - slow for a serious runner, but a triumph for me. Just as importantly, for the first time, I've covered the entire distance without being forced to stop on any of the hills.
The next step? Well, now I'm going to do it again next week...
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Date: 2013-02-16 10:27 am (UTC)My daughter is aiming for a marathon this year after successfully completing the Cardiff half-marathon. However, she gets her distance running physique from her dad, not from me. :) However, after saying that I have given up on my attempts to do any running, I have discovered that Brith will pass the barky black Labradors in a better frame of mind if we run past them. He's too scared to walk past quietly, but running seems to make it into a game. It also keeps the Labradors running and thus unable to snarl and threaten as efficiently as when they can just stand by the fence.
Unfortunately the dogs have a very long garden and it's the steepest part of the walk. So every week or so I find myself running 50 metres uphill as fast as I can -- which isn't very fast, admittedly, but it's an excellent work out.
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Date: 2013-02-16 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-02-16 12:10 pm (UTC)slow for a serious runner
Not all serious runners are fast. See evidence above ;-)
I like how much planning you put into your run, and I want to thank you for sharing this - I don't run, but it's fascinating to see how running works.
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Date: 2013-02-16 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-02-16 07:18 pm (UTC)As does biking! Many a time I've biked on a path I've only formerly walked and think to myself, "Huh! It's not flat!" :P Er, not that I ride much. Just something I've noticed when I do.
And I do NOT run, but this lovely post almost makes me want to. Almost. ;)
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Date: 2013-02-16 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-02-16 07:47 pm (UTC)And I know what you mean by almost :-)
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Date: 2013-02-16 07:58 pm (UTC)Myself, I am intrigued by the fence in the waves in that first photo.
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Date: 2013-02-16 08:40 pm (UTC)Here's another example:
They're quite fun because they're filled with seawater (and the odd bit of seaweed), but they're relatively sheltered from the surf so you can swim laps. And, I guess, in a more genteel age, people could bathe in full length suits without fear of being knocked down and dragged out to sea in an undignified manner.
Yesterday though, I really should have brought my camera because it was a magical scene. The sky was wild and grey, but the sea was a vivid green, with white surf. Yet, the pools themselves were as still as silver mirrors. There was also a group of young photographers with their tripods taking pictures of the scene (and I guess trying to include the surfers off the rocks too).
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Date: 2013-02-17 01:02 am (UTC)And I wish you had had your camera yesterday too, because I can't quite imagine the scene you describe, and yet it sounds as if it must have been beautiful.
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Date: 2013-02-17 01:54 am (UTC)