My Training for the 2009 MdS - 6

On Tuesday, I set out on a 12-km run which would involve some speed or tempo training. I have started using a marathon training plan from one of my running books (namely by Pete Pfitzinger), designed for someone who expects to run around 90 km a week, and training for a mara over 18 weeks. I have 22 weeks 'til the Berlin Marathon at the end of September, and shall use this programme, adjusted a tad to help me benefit from it as well for the MdS next March.

While on the subject of Berlin (which, in all probability, will be my first full marathon), I thought I'd jot down here, what my predictions are for my results on this race. I am aiming for 4h00, would like 3h30, but hope for 3h50. I wonder if this makes sense?

Anyway, yesterday, I set off on my 12-km run after a heavy day of death and being alone in the business, complete with overseeing the start of a facelift of our veranda, and renovations to the apartment above us. I was feeling a little tense, especially after having not slept well again the night before.

My route was from Chur down to Haldenstein, along the Rhein to Rossboden and the military area, and then back via Oberalpstrasse. As it turned out, it was a 12,07-km route, which was fine, and I did it in 1:01:30, average pace of 5:05. The speed part comprised 10 x 100-metre sprints, which actually were not as fast as they should have been, and took place along the Rhein. If I'd read the programme properly, I would have learnt, that a good rest in between speeding is vital - i.e. a good rest while still running. I sprinted 100 metres, ran for 200 metres, and then repeated this another nine times. My maximum speed was 2:43 or 22 kph. All-in-all, not too bad, but I'd like to get this sorted out and done properly. My homeward run, which is always uphill, and this time with a headwind, was rather slow, at an average of around 5:20, which caused me to become very irritated with myself, and caused an even further slowing-down. Ah, well, these things are sent to teach us.

This evening (Wednesday), I have medium-long run which means 18 km - down to the Rhein (what else?), along to Felsberg and further to cross the bridge at the dam on the Rhein, up to Domat/Ems, and then back to Chur - or the reverse (I'll decide, when I start). Pace will be about 5:05. There is a north wind blowing again, so I'll have a headwind on the way home - damn!!!

As I have said to a few mates on the MdS forum, this programme is somewhat structured, but I will try not to let it rule me, but rather I'll be flexible and use it, together with any variations, to my advantage. I feel happier, though, that I have something that may bring some discipline into my running - goodness knows, I need it because I do have a rather chaotic mind. When I was very involved with bodybuilding, I did experience a lot of self-discipline. Somehow with running, though, this hasn't been the case - probably due to the injuries, botching everything up for three months.

Well, that's the theory - now to put it all into practice!!!!!

My Training for the 2009 MdS - 5

On Sunday (4th May), we had, what can only be termed as, a perfect spring day. After weeks (months) of cold, miserable weather, with the odd warm day thrown in to confuse us mountain dwellers, spring hit us like a ton of bricks, bringing out shorts and t-shirts from storage long forgotten. Pale, translucent skin was finally exposed to Alpine sunshine, and one could sense a meaning to life again, with spring having finally sprung.

After being able to convince the powers-that-be that I really needed to get in a long run, I jumped into my new Nike lycra running shorts, donned the rest of the apparel, attached myself to the electronic gadgets, and set off down the Rhein valley to cover, on swift foot, a course I had mapped out on GoogleEarth the day before, and which should entail a long run of some 32 kilometres. I must just add, at this point, that GoogleEarth really is amazingly accurate, because, by the time I returned from my run, both my Nike/iPod and Garmin 305 gadgets showed a distance of 32,06 kilometres, and I followed exactly the route I had mapped out.

Leaving home in glorious weather, I exitted our house onto the large town square to the full view of the outside restaurant, which was full at the time, and felt a hundred amazed eyes, staring at my thin white legs, wondering what on earth obsesses one to go running in such beautiful weather. The antithesis clearly crossed my mind, as I pondered the sanity of spending all day in a restaurant when one could be out, making a physical investment in one’s future (I’ve just finished Mike Stroud’s book “Survival of the Fittest”, and am convinced, that he is right in what he says – I find it one of the most profound books I have read on human life in general, and, in particular, on the subject of exercise and keeping fit). I can honestly say, that I have always vowed, I would never end up a fat, lazy old man who needs someone to care for him. Unless I am stricken by some unfortunate ailment, I plan to do all I can to keep myself fit and able into my latter years, and I feel, I am going the right way about it – perhaps a drop or two less of wine might also aid in this goal, but otherwise I feel, I’m on the right track.

So, off I set, signals being received from above and below, and was soon on a steady, albeit too fast, pace, through town, down to the Rhein, and along the very good trail heading north to the town of Landquart, which was to be my turning point. I’ve cycled this trail more times than I can count, and it’s a nice quick ride, with a few nasty inclines to boot, and to keep one on one’s toes. Running it is a slightly different matter, and it was to be the first time, that I had done so – at least, as far as Landquart. I can’t access my running data online at the moment, because my Internet provider is doing maintenance, so I have to use my own memory, but I think my average pace for the first 15 km, was 4:35 per km (i.e. 4 minutes and 35 seconds needed for each kilometre). I really felt strong and energetic, even though I knew it was to be a long run, and I should have taken it easier at the start. Anyway, it wasn’t a race, and I could learn from it.

Landquart reared its head soon enough, and I found myself at the drinking fountain of the town’s railway station, availing myself of the clear, cold mountain water. Here was one of my lessons of the day. I had chosen not to run with my rucksack that day, but, instead, wore my 0,8-litre CamelBak, as I did on the Bündner-Frühlingslauf a week before. I had filled it with a diluted solution of Gatorade. At the drinking fountain, where I had a long aquatic halt, I wondered if I should refill the pouch, but decided I’d have plenty for the return run, which was another 17 km (a slightly different and longer route than the outward journey). The lesson: never forego the opportunity to replenish water resources on a long run. What a fool, because at km 18, I ran out of liquid, and was dying of thirst!!!!! There are usually so many drinking fountains around (most of them made out of granite, and often very ornate), that one almost trips over them, but, the time I needed one, there wasn’t a single fountain in sight, and I got home, literally gasping for water.

From Landquart, I headed away from the Rhein, and towards the mountains before crossing a large plain on which grow the solid form of my favourite drink – grapes, of course!!! As I progressed across the vineyards, I implored the fruit to grow faster, bearing in mind, their final bottled form, which would make me very happy. As I approached the town of Igis, the trail started ascending, and I was soon panting in the warm afternoon sun, my pace markedly reduced, but still constant.

On through this quaint little town, some of the older folk waving to me, a few kids riding their bikes alongside me, I made my way, along the undulating trail, and then road, to the town of Zizers, where the late, and last, Empress of the former Austrian Empire used to live before her death in the early 1990s – I ran past her castle, which is now used as a home for the aged, and a refuge for exhausted tax collectors and other such scoundrels. A few more nasty undulations, and down it was again, over the bridge across the Autobahn, and back to the trail along the Rhein.

It’s a long, slow incline back to Chur, but beautiful through the forests, next to the rapidly-flowing mighty Rhine River. Many people were out on their bicycles (lazy sods – they should have been running), enjoying the spring weather. By the time I arrived in the village of Haldenstein, just outside of Chur, I had well and truly run out of Gatorade, and I was very thirsty indeed. I could have run across the bridge into the actual village, but I reckoned, I had only another four kilometres to go, so I might as well head on home.

From Haldenstein, it is a significant rise to the Altstadt (“old town”) of Chur where our house stands, and I was becoming more and more fatigued without something to drink. I had taken a power gel in Landquart with the water I drank there, but I needed sustenance by the time I ran through Chur itself. Finally onto the Arcas square and there was our house door!!!! What a relief. Before Haldenstein, I had thought of running past Chur a few kilometres along the Rhein, just to add to the total, but I’m glad I didn’t, as I needed energy. I did the 32,06 km in exactly 2h50:00, and felt very happy with myself – another ten kilometres, and I’ll have a full marathon under my belt.

Once inside, and my raging thirst suitably quenched, I lay in a hot spa bath for ages, thinking about my achievement, and what I had learnt from it.

First of all, the water re-filling aspect – vital, and I should actually drink more as I run.
Secondly – lubricate, or cover with plasters, the nipples before a long run. After 32 km, they were sore to the extent, that I could hardly touch them.
Thirdly – get bigger running shoes. My Nikes are excellent, but after a long run, I find, that my toes rub a lot against the front of the shoes, and I ended up with four blisters at the end of my toes. Nothing serious, but still blisters – this meant, of course, that I could practise my blister management skills which I need to learn for the MdS next year. Time to get out my new book: A Boy’s Book of Feet, and study it well.
Fourthly – don’t be a hero, and start out a long run as though it were a walk in the park. Take it easy, so that strength is not all sapped in the first half, especially when the latter half is mostly uphill. The first fifteen kilometres saw me running at an average pace of about 4:35 per km; my overall average was 5:09, so obviously (and the statistics from the Garmin 305 verify this) there was a time of rather slow progress – and I admit to some fairly considerable distances of walking towards the end, although it was fast walking. There is no way I am going to walk on my first marathon in Berlin later this year – it’s run all the way, or die trying!!!!
Fifthly – stop wimping out about the rucksack, and wear it, no matter what. I’m not training for a little marathon thingy around some fancy city; I’m ultimately in training for the MdS – there is a difference.

Once out of the bath, I met Kurt, Rolf and Brigitte in the restaurant on the Arcas square, and became one of those who sits in restaurants on beautiful spring days – however, I felt, I had earned my drink (I had, after all, expended over 2300 kcals) so had no bad conscience – a 500-ml glass of ice cold beer could never taste better, than after a 32-km run!!!!!!

I had no aches or pains after my run, and even today (Tuesday), my legs feel fine. I do miss my mind, but the body is working well. I did have a break yesterday – mainly because I slept so badly on Sunday night (despite the physical exertion of the day), and was wiped out. I’ve set up a training programme for myself, based on some of the stuff Dan (djbleakmann), from the Forum, sent me, my own ideas, and a marathon training programme I acquired from one of my many books on running. It includes weekly long runs, hill (in my case, mountain) work, interval/speed work, and recovery runs, complete with the odd marathon and not-so-odd half maras and other races. This afternoon, for example, I’ll be doing a 12-km run, with 10 x 100 metres speed work thrown in for good measure. On Saturday, I have a 16-km race through the city of Berne (Bern) – our capital city. I’ve set my heart on Berlin at the end of September being my first full marathon, but it wouldn’t surprise me, if I do one before then, too. Time, and my legs, will tell.

My Training for the 2009 MdS - 4

It's been quite a week since that little race thingy. First of all - and I can't remember if I have mentioned this already - but I have acquired a place on the Berlin Marathon on 28th September. Note to self: lots of weeks in which to train, and get ready to show those Germans a thing or two!!!! Then - Martin and Susan, great friends of ours, from what we (in Switzerland) call the big canton - Germany - called and mentioned a possibility of me taking part with them on an Ironman competition in the vicinity of Nürnberg in mid-July - Susan will swim, Martin's responsibility is the biking, and my little task will be the full marathon!!!!! OK, that's in about 12 weeks. Hmmmm - oh dear, oh dear, oh dear........ I know I'll give a positive answer: this Marine answers in the positive Sir, yes Sir!!!!!!!! Bloody hell, I could have had such a quiet little life with my camel spiders - collecting bodies, reading, doing the ironing and watering the Triffids. But, no, not me - off I go, running and doing silly things in the Sahara and Germany!!!! We won't even mention Libya, Mongolia and South Africa at this stage. I mean: my mothers, in their plurality, even sent me a training programme for the Comrades Marathon in South Africa!!!!!

OK, let's get back to the recent past, and think about post-Bündner-Frühlingslauf......What the buggery hell happened after I crossed the finishing line? Nothing, really. The camel spiders and I shared a bottle of wine; Kurt took over the Bündner Nusstorte I received as a prize; friends, Rolf and Brigitte, arrived late, and I was able to give them huge, wet, sweaty hugs; we popped off to a pub for a swift pint. There were lots of compliments in the pub, 'til I took off my one Nike shoe to inspect a suspected blister, and offered Brigitte my socks as a souvenir, when the smell police arrived, and I was ordered out. I thought my feet had a certain je ne sais quoi.

Once the photos and fingerprints had been taken and dutifully recorded, the handcuffs removed, and the manacles taken off, we went home, and I lay in a hot spa bath for about an hour, while the camel spiders enjoyed the sun out on the veranda. I was tired, but incredibly happy, and that had nothing to do with the glass of SA red next to me.

Later that afternoon, we popped into town for important shopping - smoked salmon, Veuve Clicquot, blister plasters, and Aspirin. A quick visit to my favourite watering hole, Calanda, in the middle of town, was not out of the question, and a glass of local white went down very well indeed. I was still in my element, and almost drove Kurt mad with my tales of every step I took.

Anyway....... that evening, we went out to dinner in one of my favourire restaurants, Va Bene, in the complex in which is situated my wellness centre, to which I go each Wednesday evening for a 1000-metre swim, and a lot of time in the Finnish sauna, steam bath and caldarium, followed by a large glass of the best red, served by Anna, the barmaid of note.

Sunday was a happy day, full of rain and cloud, with thunderstorms to the north of us. The usual thousand litres of coffee over, a ton of müesli and organic orange juice, and the day began. I had no stiffness from my race, and felt energetic and happy - until a 'phone call came through, followed by another - DEATH!!!!! And all this, on a day, when we were supposed to go to the christening of a great-niece of Kurt. Ah, what a shame that I could not make it!!!! All that religious nonsense is worse than toothache, so I happily agreed to do one of the death cases, and to organise for one of our hideous employees to do the other.

My one was up in the ski resort of Arosa - high above Chur, absolutely beautiful. The driving distance is about 25 km, with about 365 curves (literally) in the road, but the views are beyond belief. I took it easy, and drove slowly up to this mountain paradise. I almost forgot the reason why I had gone there. I finally reached the house of bereavement, and did what I had to do. As I was about to leave, with the body in the back of the hearse, the little old lady, whose husband had died, suddenly clutched on to me, and started crying woefully. I put my arm around her, and she held on to me, face on my chest, crying hysterically. I felt so incredibly sorry for her, and put both arms around her shoulders, holding her to me, while she howled out her eyes. I have to admit to several quiet tears myself. Finally, she withdrew, thanked me from her heart, and I walked off to the hearse, my shirt dripping with salty tear-water, and smothered in make-up - why do women wear that stuff????? One does one's best!!!!!!

Back in Chur, Kurt arrived home around midday, after what, he claimed, was a horrid experience (serve him right, for getting involved), and I proclaimed, that I was off up Känzeli - the mountain in front of our house, for MdS training, complete with rucksack (Al Silcock will be happy to hear!!!!). The skies had cleared, the day was warmish (sort of -35°C - almost), and there was no way I was going to miss out on this. I dressed in sensible Bermuda shorts, a Ron Hill vest, my Nike runing shoes, and underwear beyond belief, but best left unmentioned........

With iPod/Nike and Garmin 305 gadgets functioning correctly, not to mention gear from the Karl van den Bergh Bondage Club, I set off..... The route sets off straight up!!! No warming-up, just straight-up. I shall add photos later. I started off running, but was soon reduced to a booze-induced crawl, it was that steep. Finally, I was in the forest, and it became even steeper. I am starting to hate Patrick Bauer!!!! Anyway, I had done this route a number of times, but not avec rucksack filled to capacity with food for the camel spiders!!!! The little buggers had so much fun, running all over the place, and can you imagine what a problem it is, trying to keep track of them?

Up and up we went, enjoying the views down to Chur (see flickr.com/injasuti). Like Mittenberg a week or so before, I/we was/were (those buggery camel spiders!!!) at the top of Känzeli in a time which made the mind boggle - not sure, anymore, of exact times (I'll look them up later, and add them), but it was something like 43 minutes instead of the usual 1:30.

So what? - at the top of Känzeli, but it's not the end of the world. Keep going, buddy. Onwards, and upwards.... MdS. And off I/we went................

Methinks, I should leave the rest 'til tomorrow. I have consumed 12 litres of fine SA red, a bottle of kirsch, 96 beers, and a quart of cream.

Whatever, it's all for the MdS, and buggery Patrtick Bauer. I shall continue. Belief me, the life of Craig Braithwaite and the Camel Spiders is not a quiet one. 'Til the morrow then.......

Cheers, and dune greetings,
Craig and Friends........

P.S. I shall do typing corrections tomorrow.......

A little race thing - Bündner-Frühlingslauf

On Saturday, 26th April, 2008, the so-called Bündner-Frühlingslauf took place. By way of explanation, Bündner is the adjective pertaining to the canton in which I live, Graubünden (in English, the Grisons); Frühlingslauf in English, means "spring run". This is a race which takes place between the town of Thusis, to the south of Chur, and ends 25 kilometres later in the sports centre of Chur. The route leads through spectacular mountain areas, through forests, along the Rhein (the Rhine River), across beautiful fields with snow-covered mountains soaring above all, not to mention the odd medieval castle or two.

Having not been able to run for nearly three months because of the Iliopsaos Tendon problem, I really had little hope for myself of being able to take part on this race. However, three weeks ago, when I realised, that my injury was actually improving markedly, and I could run again, I decided I would take part, and registered for the race. My training over the last few weeks, whilst not bad in terms of kilometres, was a bit of a worry, as it was somewhat sporadic due to the inclement weather and death duties, so I looked forward to this last Saturday with a certain amount of trepidation. My training runs, however, have been increasing in terms of distance, and I managed a good 26,3-km run about ten days before the race, which proved to me, that I would be capable of completing it, despite the inadequate training. Working out times, paces, etc., I decided on a time for the 25 kilometres of around 2:30:00 (i.e. two and a half hours), and yet hoped for around 2:20-ish.

I've also been enormously motivated by my decision to run, and acceptance on, the Marathon des Sables (MdS) in Morocco in March/April 2009. I had orginally planned to run this 250-km, seven-day, self-sufficiency race through the Moroccan Sahara only in 2010, but, due to various factors (mostly coercion and blackmail from fellow members of the MdS forum on the Internet (if you're interested, see: http://www.themds.co.uk/forums/index.php, and take a look at the pseudonym injasuti for all my alleged lunatic ramblings, to see what I have written there)), I decided I would enter for the 2009 version (probably as well as 2010, on the condition, that I survive 2009!!!).

On the Friday evening before the race, Kurt and I went down to the sport centre in Chur so I could fetch my number bib for the next day, and I was quite surprised to see, that my number was 11 - yes, eleven!!!! It certainly wasn't based upon performance, that's for sure, and I imagine the numbers were assigned randomly, as even the guy who came first (and has done so for nine years in a row), had the number 188. I was surprised to see, that the finishing line (in German: Ziel) was actually inside the ice hockey arena, which is somewhat unusual.

Anyway, that evening, I had been invited out to dinner by my MdS friend, Thomas, from Liechtenstein, here in Chur. His lovely wife, Lissi, came along, too, and we had a most amazing (for me, anyway) evening, with lots of laughs and discussions about the MdS, which Thomas had recently completed for the first time. What a lovely couple they are, and we're going to have them to dinner at our home sometime in the next few weeks. I learnt a huge amount about the race from Thomas, and he's agreed to show me his kit some time, so I can get a better idea of what is required. I must say, especially after having spoken so much to him about it, I can wait even less for March 2009. Of course, this all inspired me even more for the 25-km race the next day. Regretably, though, I had a very bad night's sleep, so was still very tired on the day of the race.

I had my kit and provisions all ready and laid out in the ironing room before I went out to dinner, but checked them all again at least four times, before I finally went to bed on Friday evening. On Saturday morning, an early rise was a must, and I was pacing the floor by 8:30 a.m., waiting for Kurt to get ready to drive me to Thusis. After a week of totally grotty weather, the skies had cleared to a deep blue, and the temperature was a comfortable 15°C, even at that time of the day (it later rose to around 21°C). Before we got to Thusis, though, we had to stop off in neighbouring Domat/Ems to drop off an urn at the cemetary - I must be the only runner who has undertaking work to do before a running race.

Finally we arrived in Thusis, and I was more than a bundle of nerves. I just could not keep still, and I even made the camel spiders nervous. We decided it would be best to go and have a cup of coffee first, but I was like a child sitting in front of a present-surrounded Christmas tree. The little town of Thusis was swarming with runners in various types of running apparel - some disgustingly erotic (like my shorts - although I was wearing the semi-erotic ones!!!!), and others that looked like pyjamas for the elderly. We made our way up to the school area where warming-up was taking place. While Kurt video-ed the surrounds, I took off on a series of short runs, did stretching, and consumed my power gel, before we finally made our way down to the start, which took place on the main road through this provincial townlet. I was quite conservative in my choice of electronic gadgets this time, and only took with me, my Garmin 305 and my iPod. However, I did decide to wear, for the first time, my Camelbak pouch which is worn on the lower back, with a strap around the front, with additional pouches for a camera, power gels, mobile 'phone, wine glass, etc. The main pouch is filled with liquid (mine, with a diluted quantity of Gatorade - it takes 800 ml), and has a tube with a special mouthpiece, from which one can suck liquid whilst en route. It turned out to be very useful, if somewhat unsightly to the eye; although some of the contraptions that people wore, were a sight for sore eyes for sure!!!!

Having not raced since the Zürcher Sylvesterlauf in mid-December, I really was in quite a state by the time the 414 of us were amassed, ready for the pistol. In an effort to contain myself, I started to focus upon what others were wearing and doing, and became quite alarmed, for example, when I saw a woman in front of me with her hair tied up with something, that looked not unlike a viper skin; or the man to my right, whose underwear (why wear underwear under running shorts???) was obviously causing him a certain amount of genitalic distress, and whose hands inside his shorts made him look like a dirty old pervert; not to mention the young lady behind me, who was wearing iPod earphones, and singing out loudly, oblivious to the stares she was attracting. It was a comedy of nervousness, and yet I was very glad and proud to be part of it all. I had one iPod earphone in my ear, stirring myself up with my favourite running song, "Major Tom", by the German singer Peter Schilling; with the other ear, I half-listened to all the announcements being made by the race organiser, warning us of narrow gaps in certain parts of the race, but to which hardly anyone listened. The start buttons on my iPod/Nike and Garmin 305 contraptions were ready for pushing, as soon as the pistol went off, thereby connecting me to signals from a sensor deep in my shoe, and to satellites high overhead, respectively.

Finally, the countdown began, and I felt the traditional welling-up of emotions within me, as I realised, that what has become my greatest passion in life (running, not wine, although.......), was once again coming to fruition.

Fünf, vier, drei, zwei ...... EINS ...... EXPLOSION and we're off...... with Major Tom blaring, now, in both ears!!!!! The start of the 22nd Bündner Frühlingslauf, and, this year, I was part of it!!!!!! One tenth the distance of the MdS, but what a good way to train for my greatest goal in my running life.

And thus, we switch to the present tense, as I am wont to do, when I compose a race report.

Ahead of me, lie 25 kilometres of absolutely beautiful country and mountain scenery. First of all, though, there is a run along the main road of Thusis, and the crowd of 414 sets off at quite a cracking pace, because it's all downhill at the beginning. I am about a third of the way back from the front, and can start within seconds of the pistol shot, although at what could only be described at first as a Sahara Shuffle. As the elite rush off into the distance, the rest of we mortals run on to set our pace, and achieve a sense of stability in our run. I had set an aim for my pace of around 5:05 to 5:10 minutes per kilometre, which is not bad for a post-injury run, if not a tad too fast, perhaps.

The first kilometre split: average pace: 4:42; average speed: 12,7 kph; highest speed: 18,9 kph; average heart rate: 166 beats per minute. All along tar, and downhill, with some vicious turns every so often. The start altitude is some 700 metres above sea level, but it feels like we have dropped 200 metres within the first kilometre - although hardly!!! The finish in Chur is at an altitude of 560 metres, but there are some criminal ascents in between - they are looming in the distance!!!!

The crowd of runners is starting to spread out as the elite and semi-elite charge ahead. At one stage, I look forward in horror, as I see runners far in front of me; however, a quick glance behind me, calms my fears when I realise, that there are an equal number of fellow runners behind me. I know, I keep saying, that I run for the joy of it, but there is most definitely a competitive streak within me, which, despite everything and all that is said, does like to do its best and compete with others.

On we run, and I start pacing myself with a guy of about 30 years old in front of me. He has what I and Major Tom consider to be a comfortable pace, and I keep behind him, glancing, from time to time, at the beautiful pastoral and mounatin scenery around me. It really is spectacular. At one stage, I am forced to jump over a huge splotch of blood right in the middle of what has now become a rural track. Who knows where that came from, or, indeed, if my undertaking expertise will shortly be required.

The next kilometre splits, which reveal, that my planned pace is not working, and perhaps I am going too fast, although it feels good:
Measured at km 2 - 4:56 min/km; 12,1 kph; 14,8 kph; 165 bpm
Km 3 - 4:56 min/km; 12,3 kph; 14,4 kph; 164 bpm
Km 4 - 4:55 min/km; 12,2 kph; 15,8 kph; 164 bpm
Km 5 - 4:55 min/km; 12,2 kph; 16,0 kph; 162 bpm

Km 5 sees the first watering hole, but I have my Camelbak with me, and need no extra fluid at that stage. I smile widely, as I try to non-vocally express my thanks to the helpers. Those people really are wonderful, and I reckon, they receive the least thanks from the runners. My running companion, whom we shall call Mervin, is still slightly ahead of me, but is starting to cough up blood, and I realise, it's just a matter of time, before I overtake him (and probably have to undertake him, too), and seek another pacer.

By this time, we are running steadily through beautiful green fields, then meadows upon which cows are grazing peacefully, waving wheat which, sure smells sweet, as the wind comes right behind the rain, Oklahoma..... methinks, we may be in the wrong musical here!!!!

To my left, the mighty Posterior Rhine (the Rhine, at this stage, is divided into two parts - Posterior and Anterior) carries the snow-melt rapidly northwards to lower areas, flooding Germany, and ultimately flowing into the North Sea at Rotterdam. But I digress....

Km 6 - 4:53 min/km; 12,3 kph; 18,5 kph; 162 bpm

I realise, that my pace is somewhat erratic within each kilometre, as the altitude of the route starts to undulate. I tend to thunder downhill, and then progress sedately up the next undulation. I realise, already, that my current average pace of below 5 min/km is not going to be maintained, so it'll end up a positive split, but what the hell, as it's my first race since four months, and I'll use it as a learning experience.

Km 7 - 5:10 min/km; 11,6 kph; 14,6 kph; 161 bpm - there are some nasty hills in this split, but the numerous kids along the way, high-fiving me like crazy, spur me on. A kindly farmer's wife offers my a glass of home-made red wine which causes a slight increase in pace towards the top of a particularly beastly incline.

Km 8 - 5:08 min/km; 11,8 kph; 15,3 kph; 163 bpm - these hills have to go. I have cycled this area many times, and don't remember them being so steep - beautiful, but not steep. Oh, well, ever onwards and upwards, and may Hillary beat Barack.

Km 9 - 5:50 min/km; 10,2 kph; 14,8 kph; 164 bpm - more vicious ascents, and steep declines, and then up again. For a while, I am completely alone in a deep, green valley. There are trees and cows, and I see a deer pounce off into the woods. I am all alone with Mike Batt singing "Run Like the Wind". This song was suggested to me by my MdS forum mate, Alan Crawford, and Al, for that, I thank you. It's a very inspiring song, and I had it playing at least five times on the Bündner-Frühlingslauf!!!!

Km 10 - 5:18 min/km; 11,4 kph; 17,4 kph; 162 bpm - again, some erratic paces - slow uphill, perhaps too fast downhill, but nice. I keep thinking about advice given to me by various mara runners - constant, steady pace; yet somehow on this race, with the undulations, it's not possible. Another watering hole (oh, for a swift pint!!!) and medication station ("Sorry, we do not give out Xanax!"), and I am soon at a major road intersection where are standing many people, high-fiving, spitting, cheering, releasing the dogs, and generally giving we runners a lot of encouragement. Suddenly, I spot Kurt with the video camera, and up go my arms in a gesture of cheer and happiness. Above the roar of Mary Throat-Boggler singing "Death to Runners" on my iPod, I call out to Kurt: "See you in Chur!". On I run........

Km 11 - 5:02 min/km; 11,9 kph; 14,0 kph; 162 bpm - with Barcaly James Harvest singing "Hymn", it's into the village of Rothenbrunnen, with the streets lined with little men and women from the village, dressed in traditional robes, bearing flamed torches, chanting weird hymns of a nationalistic nature, and spurring us on, as if our lives depended on it - and, in that village, they did!!!! I think, they were actually driving us out of the place!!!!

Shortly after Rothenbrunnen, the route starts to ascend dramatically onto what is know as the Polenweg - from what I understand, a track through the forest, which was constructed by Polish refugees during some little European skirmish, or other, around 1943. As mentioned before, I have cycled this route several times, but on foot, it's a different kettle of proverbial fish. It's up, up, up, up - and more up. Small steps, constant pace. Since Thusis, I have not stopped once to walk, and I am not stopping now. I feel strong, vibrant, erotic (or, at least, semi-erotic thanks to my shorts), and am strong-willed. In 11 months, I shall be running the MdS - this is no time to wimp out.

Km 12 - 5:05 min/km; 11,9 kph; 18,0 kph; 161 bpm - the sudden increase in maxium speed due to a challenge from a new pacing partner who suddenly decides he can run fast uphill; if he can, so can I!!!! The forests are beautiful and thick, as I pass the speedy competitor, and I gasp for breath at one stage, as a deer jumps out in front of me, and disappears into the trees ahead of me. Suddenly, I am aware of an aquatic tart hurling a scimitar at me, proclaiming me king of all the land, and I realise Major Tom is still above in his capsule, and is encouraging me to take a power gel, or I shall be floating weightless, drifting, falling.....

The halfway mark is well signposted - This is the Halfway Mark, says the signpost. Beneath it, someone has written: If you're not yet dead, you soon will be. I love honesty, and thunder past, reaching back for my power gel to give me nourishment for the second half of my race. I love the forests, the strong trees, the occassional small animal, my camel spiders who are my constant companions, and follow at my heels every step of the way. The field of running humanity has really spread out a lot, and I am now quite alone in the forest with my pacing companion, who has overtaken me again, his calves covered in mud as he speeds along the bepuddled route. I am also aware of my legs being bespeckled with mud, but it's a nice, athletic feeling.

Km 13 - 5:05 min/km; 11,6 kph; 16,7 kph; 162 bpm - there's a slight downhill, at the end of which is a beautiful clearing, right in the middle of the forest. Somehow, Mike Batt's "Ride to Agadir" seems somewhat incongruous in this amazingly silvan area. Fortunately, Mike's song ends, and Yazoo come long, singing "Happy People".

And up we go again to Km 14 - 5:43 min/km; 10,6 kph; 14,9 kph; 161 bpm - the steepest part of the race, and it shows!!!!!! There's a lot of mud, and also several doors in the sides of the cliffs, which indicate the myriad hidden warrens of the subterranean Swiss Armed Forces - I haven't said a word!!!!!!!!!

Deep in the forest is Km 15 - 5:00 min/km; 12,0 kph; 16,7 kph; 155 bpm - we're starting to go downhill again, and it feels good on the mind, but hard on the wooden legs. There's another watering hole and funeral director, and I whisk a carboard mug of some liquid from the hand of a smiling teenaged lass, as I thunder past, splashing her with mud, and down it quickly (the liquid, not the mud), but do not like the taste, so complement it with the diluted Gatorade from my Camelbak!!!!

Km 16 - 4:47 min/km; 12,4 kph; 15,9 kph; 162 bpm - this is THE big downhill, and is scary. A gym friend of mine was tragically killed here a few years ago, when he cycled down this decline, and went over the edge to his horribly premature death. We, as undertakers, had his body to deal with, and his wife and family were devastated, which is hardly surprisingly. I think of Jürg, as I run this decline, and hope he is happy and at peace, wherever he is. It's a sad few moments for me - such a terrible waste of human life.

Km 17 - 5:15 min/km; 11,6 kph; 13,8 kph; 163 bpm - just to show us, it's not all a walk in the park, another incline appears - not a whole one, but enough to annoy - and it's up we go again, behind the golf course of the town of Domat/Ems. I know, that from now on, it's mostly flat or downhill to Chur, so feel invigorated. My muddy buddy I have left far behind me - his knees broke on the sharp decline, and he collapsed into a ditch, with a scream of terror, soon after my wine glass hit his left temple. C'est la vie.

It's the home run, now. 18 km - 5:07 min/km; 11,7 kph; 14,0 kph; 162 bpm. It's flat now, and the sun is shining brilliantly. Since the demise of my previous pacing mate, I have latched on to another, and he runs in trepidation next to me, realising his eventual fate at the hands of a competitively-streaked undertaker. I remove my iPod earphones, and ask him, quite casually, if he has seen the movie Black Sheep, knowing quite well, what horror that would instill within him. The ensuing scene is horrible, but I have one less competitor.

Km 19 - and we're in Domat/Ems - perhaps one of the most boring places on the face of the earth. 5:19 min/km; 11,3 kph; 12,7 kph; 162 bpm. The reduction in pace is certainly due to having to wipe off the blood from my face. On, and on. I can see Chur in the distance. Bonnie Tyler's "Tyre Tracks, and Broken Hearts" floods my brain as I pace forwards, wondering if Kurt is somewhere in the vicinity, ready to video me.

Km 20 - 5:22 min/km; 11,1,kph; 12,4 kph; 162 bpm. It's getting hot, and I am starting to sweat profusely, but I tell myself, that on the MdS, this will be normal at 50°C, so shift that butt, and get going towards Chur. Shortly afterwards, a copse of trees, and a watering hole. I have been sipping my diluted Gatorade religiously, but need something else now - ah, lack of wine is starting to make itself felt!!!!! My mind turns to psychological warfare and secret societies, as I thunder in to the refreshment station. With esoteric thoughts, I grab an outheld cup of something, and down it - it's Coca Cola - how absolutely gross. I have not drunk that stuff since George's father thought of becoming president of the USA. Sugar is what I need, so down the stuff, and keep moving. A few seconds later, I look up, and there is Kurt, with that wretched video camera again, filming my every move. (I shall upload these hideous videos to YouTube one day soon, and inform the reader of their link - be afraid, be very afraid!!!). I swear appropriately, and thunder on.

Oh, my goodness - ahead of me, is a LONG, FLAT stretch of ground, filled with runners, all heading for Chur and a hot bath. I'll never make it!!!! WIMP. Head down, and run. And off I go, on a perfectly ordinary day..... Isn't life strange...?

Halfway across that long flat, it's Km 21 - 5:15 min/km; 11,4 kph; 12,4 kph; 162 bpm.
It is a positive split, but I don't care anymore - I am doing well, after only three weeks of training, although things will improve!!!!!

Oh, crikey, it's a downhill, followed by a vicious uphill again as we approach the village of Felsberg. I'd forgotten about this little nuisance.

Km 22 - 5:14 min/km; 11,5 kph; 13,1 kph; 163 bpm. I've run this route so often, and could do it in my sleep. But, my mind tells me, that we are nearly there, so I give a quick spurt past my pacing buddy, and head off. We're next to the Rhine, now, and this is my area!!! My training area.

Km 23/25 - not too sure what happened here, but the satellite thingy got all mixed up and I had two splits in one - buggery technology. Anyway, here are the average results for 2 km: 5:13 min/km; 11,4 kph; 17,2 kph; 165 bpm. Very excited now. Nearly there, and it's all almost over, although I have the feeling, that I wish it could go on for ages. I don't want to finish. I am enjoying it so much. I feel strong, pain-free, happy, ecstatic......

Finally, the end. I see Kurt standing there, just in front of the ice hockey stadium, video camera aiming at me. I am invincible. I feel incredible. I am almost there. I can hardly wait for the Berlin Marathon in September, and the MdS next year. I LOVE RUNNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The last few hundred metres: I run like the blazes, enter the ice hockey stadium, and cross the ZIEL, probably the most happy man on the face of the earth. I have achieved the Bündner-Frühlingslauf in 2:09:02, placed 34 out of 65 in my age group, 179 out of 414 over all.

A walk in the park; a step in the dark. HAIL, Major Tom. There is more .... to follow.....

My Training for the 2009 MdS - 3

This entry refers to Wednesday, 16th April.

It was quite a day on Wednesday. Outside, it felt like mid-winter - heavily overcast, windy, bitingly cold, grey, miserable, inclement, unfriendly, get the message? Inside, there were decisions that needed to be made - should I buy the green rubbish bin liners or the red ones? There were habits that needed to be changed:

Bodies had to be fetched, and then, most importantly, after writing endless messages to the MdS forum on the Internet, there were plans to be made about running. I hadn't had a break from death for nigh over two and a half weeks, and decided one was called for, so I opted for an afternoon off, and set out on a good run, despite the pitiless climes which swathed us in their gloom and despair.

I began with the normal preparations upstairs in the apartment. First of all, there was the gathering of the equipment, not a simple matter at the best of times. All my running equipment is stored in my favourite room of the house - the ironing room. At least, there, it's not in dread of its life, because that's my domain, I shudder to admit. I had decided, that I would wear my rucksack, bought from the Darbaroud website (official site of the Marathon des Sables), once again. I had worn it on the Sunday run, and it did feel comfortable. This time, however, I decided I would wear the front pouch attachment, and set about attaching it - what a performance, and it will teach me right for undoing the whole thing without carefully noting how it all went together in the first place. I filled up the four water bottles with diluted Gatorade, added weight to the pack itself, mounted it (there is no other word to describe how one puts this monster on), and felt ready to go. Ah, what about stretching? Oh dear, the whole lot had to come off again, there was a lot of whingeing, and I did my stretching exercises. I've been quite diligent at these lately, and can now touch the floor in front of my feet, with legs straightened. It's a good feeling at my age!!!! Stretching complete, I popped downstairs to the business to bid my farewell to the powers-that-be, suffered the barrage of verbal abuse, and set off, clicking all the buttons of my various gadgets as I emerged from the door.

It was almost a deep freeze as I ran my first few moments. Admittedly, I did have on my tiniest of running shorts (Asics), which Kurt refers to as disgustingly erotic, and a thinnish Nike long-sleeved running shirt. The temperature was 6°C, as I slowly warmed up next to the Plessur River which flows in front of our house, but the wind chill factor was certainly around 2°C. My favourite music blaring in my ears from my beloved iPod, I headed down towards the Rhein (Rhine), feeling happy and confident. My Garmin 305 recorded every step I took, receiving signals from some arcane satellite system high up above me, with the vultures.

I did receive some strange looks from some very strange people as I ran along, but, I told myself, they're all ignorant, and will never know what it's like to deprave oneself by running through the desert for seven days. The Rhein reached, I decided not to run on it, as I am usually wont to do, but alongside it, and headed towards the village of Felsberg, through the military area, where a lot of shooting was going on. I had to do a lot of dodging of bullets and missiles, but my fictitious training in the Légion Étrangère stood me in good stead.

Through the village of Felsberg I ran, feeling good and happy, enjoying my music, sipping regularly from my Gatorade, and blowing my nose every 200 metres or so. I suffer from hayfever, and, whilst this year it has not been too bad, the pollen has had a marked effect on my throat, and also affects my nose when I run. I must lose litres of fluid through my nasal orifices when I run. It's most annoying, and I'm not one of those people, who can just expel nasal fluids into the air, like some runners do. I need a tissue, so run with the pouch filled with them. This does, however, cause an annoyance to my gait as I trundle along. Not only that, but years of cortisone nasal sprays have left my nasal membranes very thin, and I bleed a lot from the nose, which adds insult to injury. Anyway......

Dripping blood and nose juices all along the trail, I continued along the Rhein towards the next village of Tamins, which is quite a lot higher than the Rhein valley. In fact, it involves a run up a steep hill, which also kills me on the mountain bike. Not one to complain (oh, yeah?), I ran up the hill, and was amazed that I reached the top without any swearing or cursing. My gym has certainly helped; I must also give due to my red wine consumption, because I have been told, that red wine is good for one, and I must, consequently, be in excellent health!!!!

Tamins is a beautiful village, and I enjoyed running through it, particularly as it was the beginning of a long descent to the village of Reichenau, nestled right next to the Rhein. Thundering down, I past a little, old lady, striding uphill. As I past her, I felt her gaze burning my disgustingly erotic shorts, and could quite well hear her tut-tutting as I hurtled past. Anyone would think some people had never seen legs before!!!!!

Up to the Reichenau railway station on the other side of the Rhein, and then the direction was northwards, when the full blast of the, hitherto unnoticed, north wind was felt. I had been a little cold, but not the sort of nutt-freezing cold that the north wind, when it doth blow, can bring. Whew, I felt it then. It almost deep-froze me, it was that cold. And it was strong. I had another 13 km to run, and I was freezing - oh, boy, what a lot of fun it was going to be. My nasal discharges increased to every 100 metres, but I headed onwards and onwards, knowing, that I would eventually be in the warmth again.

Domat/Ems came and went, and the wind continued unabatedly. Then I remembered a small bridge under the Autobahn which led to a forest path back to Chur. At least, in the forest, the force of the wind would be minimised, so I headed for that. There was a sense of relief in the forest, for sure, but my body was that cold, that I could not micturate (pee) against a passing sheep when I needed to (no, the prostate is in perfect working order, thank you).

On and on I went, my nose becoming certainly bright red, my body as cold as ice, but my level of determination as high as when I started - and, I firmly believe, that this is what is required to complete the Marathon des Sables!!!!! My legs felt good all the time; my chest and nose were the problem, but I thundered through, and overcame the hindrance that might have caused otherwise.

Finally I reached the outskirts of Chur. I had another three or four kilometres to run, and I was starting to tire because my chest and nose were giving me hell. My head was starting to hurt, too, but I put that down to the stress my respiratory system was causing me.

I eventually arrived at the door to our house, with the song Major Tom by the German Singer, Peter Schilling, blasting my brain - one of my favourite songs ever, and a perfect song by which to run.

Equipment shut-down, and breath in the warm air of home!!!!!!! Gosh, it was wonderful. The run, itself, was amazingly good - it was just the weather, and my respiratory system, that caused a few problems. Nonetheless, spring will one day spring, and I will be able to breathe better and enjoy longer and faster runs, every step being towards the MdS!!!!!

The gammy leg? No problem at all. Even today, I have no problems whatsoever. I had planned a 10-km run this evening, but the death business saw to it, that I was exhausted by the day's end. Consequently, it was a long, hot shower and some good red wine for me. Tomorrow, the weather is forecast to be warmer, so I shall do my 10-km rum, and then, with 20°C predicted for Sunday, I'll get in a 30-km one.

I love running more than I could ever have previously imagined. My temporary lay-off, due to the injury, is over, and I am now back into my passion in a big way. All roads lead, now, to the 2009 MdS.

Here endeth the lesson.

My Training for the 2009 MdS - 2

I thought I would copy and paste an account of my run on last Sunday, so that it's available here, too, and not just on the MdS forum. Refers to Sunday, 13th April.

Just in after a beautiful Sunday run. Ran the equivalent of a half-mara, but not a PB by any means. Some really steep parts in the beginning, and hardly had time to warm-up properly. Then through the Fürstenwald forest, after which it was across undulating hills, and finally down to the Rhine and the long slog home.

Pics are on my Flickr.com site.

The good news is: not a single mutter or twinge from my injury spot, and that's the longest I have run since November last year. Maybe I am on the mend for once and for all.

The bad news is: I lost my brand new, and very yellow, wrist-worn meteorological station (wind, temperature, humidity, pressure)

(see: http://www.skyview.co.uk/dept1/acata...Pro_Watch.html).

I clipped it onto my MdS rucksack (which weighed 5 kg, by the way), and wondered then, if it was such a good idea. What a wally I am - suddenly thought of it about halfway, and it was gone, must have clipped it on badly. It was no good looking - it could have been anywhere!!!! Cost me about €250, so I am not happy. Believe me, before the MdS next year, I'll have another one.

I learnt a lot from this run, carrying the pack. Liquid (took lots of diluted Gatorade with me) moves when one runs - clever, that!!!! Need to investigate various ways of stabilising the pack. Ah, and I have realised, too, that every gram of weight does count!!!!!! Other than Thursday's jaunt up Mittenberg, I've never really run seriously with a rucksack before, so this was an interesting experience, and I have learnt already from it.

Looking forward to lots more of this kind of training. I'm amazed I actually managed 21 km because we got to bed quite late last night, I was up at 2:15 to fetch a body in a village in the mountains high above Chur (bloody death in the night!!!! ), back home at 3:45 a.m., and only got back to sleep around 5 o'clock. Up again at 9 o'clock, so I wasn't what one would call rested!!!! I felt a little sluggish, I have to admit - hmm, nothing to do with the bottle of red last night, I presume????

Now it's a hot bath, and then off to best friends for an apéro in the sun.

Rambling on.... 1

I've just realised, it's been a while since I last entered anything to my blog. To be honest, I have been totally absorbed with the MdS UK forum to which I belong, and where I write a lot, too. I think next year's MdS is going to be quite a festive affair, along with blisters, tears and thirst.

I'm going to try to keep up-to-date here, and may also copy some of my forum writings to my blog, so I have all the important stuff in one place. I really do want to write a book once I have done the 2009 MdS, and a lot of the "data" will be here for me so, that I don't forget it. My thoughts, feelings, fears, worries, excitements (is that a word?), etc. will all appear here, too, as well as my training, and other info.

The picture, here, is one I took from the MdS website, and sort of typifies the way I envisage the race (if you click on it, it should appear large). I've actually started running like this, too, to get used to having a rucksack on my back while I run. I need to try out lots of equipment before I decide on what will (hopefully) be right for me. To this effect, I have all the friends and info on the MdS UK forum to whom/which to turn. All in all, it's a huge undertaking (no pun intended, considering our business!!!), and needs a lot of research and experimentation. I am very excited about it, although I have to keep my excitement somewhat concealed at home, because it's not something which Kurt sees as essential, and thus is not really that important in his eyes. I can cope with that, but it does mean, that my excitement could be poured out here like a waterfall - I hope it doesn't irritate any readers, but then, no one is compelled to read my blogs!!!!

I have a year 'til I fly off to Morocco. The whole thing for Swiss, German, Austrian and Liechtensteiners is organised through an agent in Germany, and I have been informed by her, that I am on the list for 2009. All I have to do now, is get together the approximately €3000 to pay for it all!!!!!!! I'm toying with the idea of seeing if I can get a sponsor (e.g. a bank, supermarket chain, or whatever), which would be a great help. I guess I'll have to write some very carefully-worded letters, and send them off, in the hope, that some money will be forthcoming!!!!! I would also like to try to raise money (as a lot of runenrs do) for some kind of "Dudley Do-Gooder" sort of charity - perhaps cancer research, or care for the elderly. My drinking buddy, Mohammad, suggested I raise money for the Craig and Mohammad Wine Cellar Re-stocking charity. Anyway, lots to sort out and organise, but I enjoy that kind of thing.

Equipment for the race is of paramount importance. I'm going to chat to others, especially the forumites, and find out how they have organised themselves. I seem to think a good idea would be, to go through a list of every aspect of this self-sufficiency undertaking, and examine each component individually - e.g. the shoes, the socks, and so on. And I know, a year is going to fly by. I may also not forget, that I have to run and run and run and run as well, and, even that is not just a matter of running - there are all sorts of things one has to consider, depending upon how well one wants to do in the race. I'm by no means one of the top runners, and think I am more like a lot of the other members of the forum, in that I want simply to finish the MdS, regardless of time taken. In the last race, the top guy completed the seven-day, 243-km race in 19H27'46 (19 hours, 27 minutes and 46 seconds); the last one in, accumulated a time of 76H52'24 - now, that's quite a difference. I can see myself somewhere in the middle - a mid-packer, as the terminology goes. One doesn't run the whole way (except for the elite, of course), and there is quite a lot of walking/hiking, mountain ascending, dune hell, and so on. It's going to be tough, but a lot of fun, and what a challenge.

Well, let the training start. Unfortunately, we are having MISERABLE weather in Switzerland again, with the same set to last for a while. My Iliopsoas tendon injury seems to have sorted itself out, and, after a good run on Sunday (see next blog entry), I have no pain whatsoever from it - just a few tense spots around the right knee, which will be sorted out forthwith!!!!!

Looking forward to some long runs ahead of me. I have a lot to plan with my running for the next year, as said. Coming up first, though, I have the Bündner-Frühlingslauf on Saturday, 26th April from Thusis to Chur - a 25-km race, which will be the longest I have run to date. Having not been able to do much training 'til recently, I am not expecting any wonderful time, but just want to do it for the run itself - as of now, every kilometre counts towards the 2009 MdS. Then, on 10th May, I'm running in the 16-km Grand Priz de Bern in the nation's capital.

I have yet to work out what marathons I will do this year - I presume Berlin in September, and perhaps Luzern (Lucerne) in October. I also want to do a few half-maras in summer, and then some time, my planned solo multi-day run from Zürich to Chur, with full rucksack. As I said, let the training start.