So I've kept up my training plan for the Toad. I ran 15km last weekend, and then ran 12.5km on Saturday, and 10km on Sunday, all at race pace. Actually, probably faster than race pace, because honestly I'm not sure I could hold that pace for 25km on trails, and that's not really my plan.
But here's an awesome thing: I can now hold the 5:00/km for 12km. I used to struggle to hold it for 5km. In fact, that seems to be the pace my feet now want to run, and when I'm feeling even peppier, I'll pick it up for about 4:40/km. I was able to run 12km in 59:56 on Saturday, which pleased me to no end. It was a hilly course and I fought a huge headwind for the last half of the run, but I kept my pace consistent throughout -- really pleased with that run. The only thing I can add is that it's hard work to run that hard for an hour. That's all.
But I think it's good for me. It reminds me/teaches me that I can do things that are hard, that I can keep going.
I'm running with a shorter more upright stride, like my physio showed me, and it's true, I can really go faster running that way. But it's also harder, uses different muscles: stomach, glutes, inner thighs. That's the core right there.
If I'm to be honest, I'll admit I've been having some twinges of pain in my hip these last few runs. So I've added my physio exercises back in. I hope it won't get worse. I love running long distances but maybe my body doesn't? I hope these exercises keep the pain to twinge level. At least I know, having had all those tests done last winter, that it's not a stress fracture or anything too serious.
Managed my second run of the weekend in 50:21 for 10km. Not bad. Consistent, again. In fact, for three straight kilometres, I ran exactly 5:00/km. Taking just 20 seconds off of each kilometre takes a huge effort. My new goal (assuming the hip holds) is to make 4:40 my standard pace, and 4:30 my speedier pace. I could start by just holding 4:40 over 5km, and then work my way up -- after all, it's worked for the 5:00 pace.
Why do I like going fast? I wonder, but I'll never know.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
A good note
I'm ending this week on a good note: a great long run!
I wanted to run 2 hours to try to see if I felt prepared for the Toad, which is in just under four weeks from now. As I got going and settled in to the run, I continued to feel really good, and I decided to aim for a half-marathon distance at minimum. The kilometres really started ticking away by the time I'd gotten into the teens. I'd set my watch to give me my split for every kilometre, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The longer I went, the faster I got--and not just a tiny bit faster, a whole lot faster. I'd planned to aim for a 5:30/km pace, since it was a fairly long run. I stuck to that for about the first 10km, which I did in 54 minutes, but gradually my pace began to speed up, until I realized I'd run the 16th kilometre in 4:42. In fact, I ran each of the last 5.5 kilometres of that half-marathon distance at a 4:45 pace. I couldn't believe it. I have a hard time holding that pace when I run JUST five kilometres on my speed runs.
In the end, I ran 23km in exactly 2 hours! And I finished my half-marathon distance in 1:52:20, which is almost three minutes faster than I ran my real half-marathon a year and a half ago.
I'm feeling much more confident about tackling the Toad right about now.
And I'm getting to experience again what I remember experiencing in my long runs and races last year -- that I would get faster the further I went, not slower. I mean, I was just ticking along. I think my legs were just about numb, to tell the truth. My breath was extremely even. I was just laying down the pace without even thinking about it.
My training plan is to do a couple of shorter speed runs this week (by shorter, I mean 10km, and hopefully at least once at my favourite place to run trails -- because I need the hill work).
Then I will do a shortish long run this coming weekend, between 15-18km.
Then two 12km runs back to back on the following weekend. And then rest up a bit!
Because then it's race weekend.
I will keep aiming to run five times a week, not necessarily for super-long distances. So far, I've been holding steady at four runs a week, which isn't fabulous, but hey. Seems to be working okay.
I wanted to run 2 hours to try to see if I felt prepared for the Toad, which is in just under four weeks from now. As I got going and settled in to the run, I continued to feel really good, and I decided to aim for a half-marathon distance at minimum. The kilometres really started ticking away by the time I'd gotten into the teens. I'd set my watch to give me my split for every kilometre, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The longer I went, the faster I got--and not just a tiny bit faster, a whole lot faster. I'd planned to aim for a 5:30/km pace, since it was a fairly long run. I stuck to that for about the first 10km, which I did in 54 minutes, but gradually my pace began to speed up, until I realized I'd run the 16th kilometre in 4:42. In fact, I ran each of the last 5.5 kilometres of that half-marathon distance at a 4:45 pace. I couldn't believe it. I have a hard time holding that pace when I run JUST five kilometres on my speed runs.
In the end, I ran 23km in exactly 2 hours! And I finished my half-marathon distance in 1:52:20, which is almost three minutes faster than I ran my real half-marathon a year and a half ago.
I'm feeling much more confident about tackling the Toad right about now.
And I'm getting to experience again what I remember experiencing in my long runs and races last year -- that I would get faster the further I went, not slower. I mean, I was just ticking along. I think my legs were just about numb, to tell the truth. My breath was extremely even. I was just laying down the pace without even thinking about it.
My training plan is to do a couple of shorter speed runs this week (by shorter, I mean 10km, and hopefully at least once at my favourite place to run trails -- because I need the hill work).
Then I will do a shortish long run this coming weekend, between 15-18km.
Then two 12km runs back to back on the following weekend. And then rest up a bit!
Because then it's race weekend.
I will keep aiming to run five times a week, not necessarily for super-long distances. So far, I've been holding steady at four runs a week, which isn't fabulous, but hey. Seems to be working okay.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
One step and then another
Today has been an excruciating day, and my sense is that I probably won't choose to write about it on my main blog. But I still want to write about it, and acknowledge what's happening, and this blog actually seems like the perfect place to reflect on it.
Today, the longlist for a Canadian literary prize was announced -- the most important literary prize Canada offers for fiction -- and my new book was not on it. I knew it would be a long-shot, but my publisher and agent were both very hopeful. I'm crushed to have disappointed them--and myself. Getting onto the list would boost sales, garner attention, basically help sell books, which is what I'm supposed to do, as a writer (often people forget that part of the equation, but it's pretty critical to me continuing to be able to write, and more to the point, to publish.)
My initial emotion upon hearing the news was shame, which makes no logical sense. A jury of three people chose a handful of books from an eligible pool of 227. It would have been a stroke of great fortune to be among that handful, and not being there, while disappointing, is hardly shameful.
I don't know why that was what I felt. But I did.
A few hours on, I'm doing better. I bounce.
Here's how this experience relates to the training I've been doing recently. I've been doing some hard runs, trying to give a quick-ish bump to my fitness level so I can race the 25 km trail run I'm signed up to run in a few weeks. In the past five days, I've done two 10km runs, trying to run right at my edge, and last night I went 13km, still pushing to my edge. At 10km, my edge is just under 5 min/km -- at least, I can hold on for about 9 km before slowing slightly. At 13km, my edge is just over 5 min/km. I was pleased to have completed 13.1km yesterday in a time of 1 hour, seven minutes. That's two minutes off a five flat pace. Pretty fast for me. And I could hold it, and if I'd thought to bring water along, I could have gone further.
But here's the thing: every step of those runs is hard work. Every single step. There isn't a step that feels easy. I'm pushing myself the whole way. I have remind myself repeatedly to maintain the intesity of effort.
I find I can't even do it another way (unless I'm running with someone else).
My life as a writer is very similar. I push myself. I set goals that may actually be slightly beyond my reach, but I believe in my own ability to get there. When I don't, it's painful. But I can't stop myself from continuing to try, despite setbacks.
Every step of the way is hard. It never gets easier, because as I get stronger, I don't glide; instead, I push a little harder, expect a little more. It seems to be in my character. Failure hurts, but it isn't a real obstacle. The only obstacle is my response to failure. So I took some to feel sad this morning, and I know the sadness is going to grab me now and again in the days and weeks to come. But I'm going to keep on keeping on. One step at a time.
Today, the longlist for a Canadian literary prize was announced -- the most important literary prize Canada offers for fiction -- and my new book was not on it. I knew it would be a long-shot, but my publisher and agent were both very hopeful. I'm crushed to have disappointed them--and myself. Getting onto the list would boost sales, garner attention, basically help sell books, which is what I'm supposed to do, as a writer (often people forget that part of the equation, but it's pretty critical to me continuing to be able to write, and more to the point, to publish.)
My initial emotion upon hearing the news was shame, which makes no logical sense. A jury of three people chose a handful of books from an eligible pool of 227. It would have been a stroke of great fortune to be among that handful, and not being there, while disappointing, is hardly shameful.
I don't know why that was what I felt. But I did.
A few hours on, I'm doing better. I bounce.
Here's how this experience relates to the training I've been doing recently. I've been doing some hard runs, trying to give a quick-ish bump to my fitness level so I can race the 25 km trail run I'm signed up to run in a few weeks. In the past five days, I've done two 10km runs, trying to run right at my edge, and last night I went 13km, still pushing to my edge. At 10km, my edge is just under 5 min/km -- at least, I can hold on for about 9 km before slowing slightly. At 13km, my edge is just over 5 min/km. I was pleased to have completed 13.1km yesterday in a time of 1 hour, seven minutes. That's two minutes off a five flat pace. Pretty fast for me. And I could hold it, and if I'd thought to bring water along, I could have gone further.
But here's the thing: every step of those runs is hard work. Every single step. There isn't a step that feels easy. I'm pushing myself the whole way. I have remind myself repeatedly to maintain the intesity of effort.
I find I can't even do it another way (unless I'm running with someone else).
My life as a writer is very similar. I push myself. I set goals that may actually be slightly beyond my reach, but I believe in my own ability to get there. When I don't, it's painful. But I can't stop myself from continuing to try, despite setbacks.
Every step of the way is hard. It never gets easier, because as I get stronger, I don't glide; instead, I push a little harder, expect a little more. It seems to be in my character. Failure hurts, but it isn't a real obstacle. The only obstacle is my response to failure. So I took some to feel sad this morning, and I know the sadness is going to grab me now and again in the days and weeks to come. But I'm going to keep on keeping on. One step at a time.
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