A run along the coast

59 days until the Boston Marathon.

*

My alarm went off at 6. Reluctlantly, I got out of bed, gathered my running clothes, and took them to the sitting room to dress. We were staying in a small chalet, and I didn't want to wake my wife by dressing in the bedroom.

The chalet was cold as we had turned down the heat for the night. It was near the coast of Scotland, and we'd travelled there for a long weekend during the children's half-term holiday. (Half-term is a week off from school, for no apparent reason, half-way through the school term. I don't remember such breaks when I was a child; I suppose it's a British tradition.)

I made a cup of coffee, and ate a cinnamon whirl that was left in the kitchen. The children started stirring a bit, perhaps excited by waking somewhere new, and I told them it was too early to get up. They agreed, and closed their shared bedroom door, but I could their quiet conversation continuing.

*

It was dark outside, and cold. It had rained the night before, but this had cleared, and now the road was icy in places. I had gloves on, but my fingertips were cold.

The road was a single lane farm track. I chose to stay on this, rather than head onto busier roads, as I was unlikely to encounter any traffic. I left a bottle of diluted juice and a snack bar behind a sign near the side of the road. My plan was to run to the end of the track - about four miles - and then back, and then do it all again.

What does one think about on a long run? Initially, I thought about how unnatural it was to be up and running in the dark. It was almost if you are running in secret. I then thought about how, as I age - I'm nearly 45 now - my preferences have insensibly become more domestic, maybe more staid. For example, air travel used to be wholly exciting for me, and it still is to an extent. But now it's tinged with a dread of jet-lag and the fatigue of travel.

The road led through pastures and bits of wood, with only the occasional house. Suddenly, at a curve in the road, I could smell the sea. It was dark out still, but there was a light from a small boat in the bay. A low cloud hung over open water at the end of the bay.

Up ahead was a light near the shore. As I approached, I could see that it was a red telephone booth, with a light on inside. Next to it were lobster traps and buoys. One could leave the phone booth and in five strides be on the water's edge.

The road narrowed, and ended in a fenced driveway. I turned, and headed back the other way as it started to get light.

*

Later, after the run and breakfast, we took the children to a sea-life center. It had a trail next to the shore, and I took a picture of a fishing boat anchored a short distance away.

The dark days are ending

67 days until the Boston marathon. Oh my.

*

Scotland is unexpectedly north. I mean, if you were to draw a horizontal circle around the globe from where I live, you'd hit Hudson Bay and southern Alaska.

As a consequence, although we don't get unduly cold winters (because of the Gulf stream), we do get the short days, long nights, and the low sun associated with northern latitudes.

December is fine. You get to the shortest day before you know it, perhaps because of the pre-holiday build-up. A tradition here that I've particularly enjoyed is the boozy Christmas party at work.

But then comes January. It's dark. It's usually rainy. And even when the sun is up, it's so low in the sky that it gives little warmth or brightness.

*

I went for run at lunch-time today, as it was my only chance for the day.

I jogged from the building where I work, across a few blocks, and headed into the park in the center of Old City.

For the first time in awhile, the sun was out, and the light felt warm on my face. I seemed to hear birds for the first time this winter. It wasn't spring, but there was a noticeable difference in the air. As I ran around the park, I took off my head-band and gloves because I was warm.

As I rounded one turn in the park, I startled some sea gulls who had been resting in a pond there. They took flight. The light was good, and a bit of sea was visible in the distance, so I stopped and took a photo.

Running in the rain

73 days until the Boston marathon.

*

I've had a tired, rainy week of running. Last Sunday night I did a 16.2 mile long run. It was made up of three of my 5.4 mile town loops. I felt good - even strong - on the second loop. I listened to The Extra Mile and Pheddipidations podcasts while I trotted away. On the final lap, however, my pace slowed dramatically in the last two miles. I wasn't at the wall, but it was a tired finish.

Monday was my scheduled day off.

Tuesday was my regular full-court basketball game with friends from work. There were only six of us, so there was a fair bit of running in the hour and a half we played. I count this as cross training.

Wednesday I did an 8-mile run on The Road - a long hilly road behind my workplace - with my Work Friend. It was raining and dark, and on the four-mile outbound segment, my legs were tired. On the way back, we faced a stiff wind. My nylon running trousers were soaked and stuck to my cold legs. My fingertips were numb. There was nothing to do but to keep moving. Afterwards, we enjoyed a welcome pint in the pub.

On Thursday the rain was coupled with gale-force winds. My active pair of running shoes were still wet from the day before, so I put on an older pair. I was intitially thinking an easy-paced town loop, but was slightly worried about falling branches near the loch. Instead I did four miles through some of the neighbourhoods in town.

Today, Friday, my wife was leaving for a work trip in the evening, so I had to run at lunchtime. There's a track near where I work, and I did a warmup mile, and then 7 Yassos (800 meters hard, with a 400 meter recovery). There was a driving rain, and for half of each lap around the track I headed into the wind. My clothes were wet, and I felt tired. Near the end of these intervals, however, I did start to feel a little stronger.

So, I've been getting my runs in, but they haven't felt easy.

*

Tonight, I'm going to relax with my current book, Life of Pi, and a beer.

A short race and then a long run

82 days until the Boston marathon.

*

This past weekend I ran the Devil's Burdens relay race. I ran with friends from my local running club, and I did the first leg. In this leg, two runners were required from each team, and I ran with M. from the club.

There were two starts for the race. The 9:30 start was for the slower teams, and the 10:30 start was for the others. Because we were unsure where we'd finish, and in part because I had to get home for child-care, we opted for the early start.

We lined up towards the front of the 39 pairs of runners, and with the horn we were off.

We made our way through the historic village of Falkland, and headed up through the woods to East Lomond, the hill above the village.

The pace wasn't too hard, and I found myself near the front with another woman. Shortly after, a guy from a nearby hill run club passed, and I ran with him for a bit. I didn't know the route, although I carried a map, and was happy to follow someone who had done the route previously, as this guy had done. M. was just behind us.

We emerged from the woods and headed up the steep, grassy slope of the hill. It was too steep to run. I was breathing hard, but felt good.

At the summit there was a checkpoint where we had to make a hole punch in our checkpoint list. From the summit there were terrific views of the surrounding countryside (photo: copyright Scottish Hill Runners).

M. and I descended quickly. Although we were second to the summit, we somehow were the first team down, and had to navigate on our own. M. was familiar with the area from previous cross-country races, and led us in the correct direction. Occasionally, when pausing to look at our map, one or two teams would catch up to us. This proved useful, as we were able to confirm our route.

The first leg wasn't too long - 4.4 miles - and as it neared the end, we pushed to finish first, and were able to do so.

*

The next day, Sunday, I had to get in a long run.

I'd done 10.8 miles for my long run the weekend before, although my schedule called for a 15-miler.

The week before this, my schedule had called for a 13 mile run, and, tired, I'd only done 3.

So, I'd been short-changing my long-runs, and it was time to address this.

*

My first lap around town - 5.4 miles - went fine. It was around 5 p.m., my children were having their dinner, and my wife knew I'd be out for a while.

On my second lap through town, I started to feel the fatigue from the race the day before. After finishing our leg, M. and I had run most of the route back to my car, so it ended up being about 8 miles all told.

I'd borrowed my daughter's ipod shuffle, and listened to podcasts: American Public Radio's Marketplace, and Steve Runner's Intervals and Pheddipidations. It was now dark out.

I wanted to get my distance in, but I was tired. I switched to a 8 min run, 30 sec walk schedule. This got me through the second lap around town, and the third.

Tired, but not exhausted, I finished my longest training run so far in this cycle: 16.2 miles in 2:24.

I still have a lot of work to do before I'm ready for Boston.

A moonlit morning run

88 days until the Boston marathon.

*

My watch alarm went off at 6:11 this morning. I'd set it to get up early for a run.

I'd run the night before, a 6-miler with some hills, and was feeling pleasantly tired in bed. My legs were stretched out, I was warm under my duvet; I didn't want to get out of bed, put on running clothes, and head outside again.

I turned over. Sometimes when I wake up early and don't need to get up I like to think about camping - resting in my warm sleeping bag, somewhere in the mountains, a day of walking ahead perhaps.

I turned over again. The marathon was now less than three months away. Every training day, now, counted. My only chance to run today was this morning because my wife was out tonight.

So, I either got up and went for a run or I didn't run today.

I got up.

I made a cup of instant coffee. My son, aged 5, wandered into the kitchen. I told him that it was too early to get up yet and I put him back to bed.

*

Outside it was cold and dark. I could see the frost on my wife's car. My legs were still tight from last night's run, and from basketball the day before. I had in mind an easy town loop (5.4 miles) just to stretch.

I wore my usual winter running clothes. Hat, gloves, long running trousers, a longsleeve shirt, a shortsleeve shirt on top, and a mesh visibility vest. There was frost on the road.

When I got to the loch, a mile into the run, the moon was full and bright. It was still dark outside, but the ruined palace on the other side of the loch was moonlit. There was no one out. The path alongside the loch was easily visible, and I didn't need my torch (flashlight).

My legs loosened and the running became easier. I made my way around the loch, and around the farm. Heading back into town, there were more cars now about. I made my way back, and arrived home 46 minutes after I'd started. I checked our thermometer, and it read -6 C (22 F).

Looking out the window of the house, the moon was low and still bright, so I stepped outside and took a quick photo.

Running at lunchtime

95 days until the Boston marathon. Oh man, that's just 3 months from now! This isn't that much time from a marathon-training perspective.

*

I went for a lunch-time run today, as it was my only chance to run.

I left the lab where I often work in Old City, and jogged to a park that is near its center. The park is features an extinct volcano, and shear rocky outcroppings, referred to as crags. These are visible from my office window, so I thought a run up to them would be fun.

I left my building, crossed a few streets, and heading into the park. I followed a trail and made my way to the base of the crags. One one side they are shear rock faces; on the other they are steep grassy slopes. I ran up the slopes, and gained a view of Old City.

I made my way along the crags, and then descended to the road that runs around the park. The road through the park was mostly closed to cars for about half of its length - so it was perfect for running.

I was warm and so removed my gloves and head band. It was one of the warmer days we've had in the past month and a half - probably near 40 F.

I ran around the park, and then headed back to work. I was only planning on running for 40 mins or so, but ended up taking 50.

Back at work I had a quick shower, and joined a meeting that I was planning on attending about 10 minutes late.

But I'd got my run in.

Training for a marathon in the winter

102 days until the Boston marathon.

*

I'm now in week 4 of my 18-week training program for the Boston marathon and, given that some of these weeks have included the holidays, things seem to be going well.

Last weekend my schedule called for my first 15-miler, and I achieved it - or something close - by adding extra miles to my Sunday morning run in the woods with my running friends. I felt good, and was tired at the end, but not exhausted. Altogether the run was about 2:40, but this included a lot of running through snow, stopping, and picking my way across ice patches.

The next day, Monday, I took my usual rest day. Tuesday I did 8 miles with a friend in a cold rain, and my legs were tired. Wednesday I did my town loop of 5.4 miles, and felt absolutely beat. There's still ice covering parts of the path where lots of people have walked and the snow has been compacted, so it requires a little care when trying to run it in the dark.

Tonight, Thursday night, I donned my winter running clothes while my children watched TV before supper. I wanted to get a short run in and be back to eat with them.

It was cold - -2C (28F) - and I wore two shirts, a reflective vest, two pairs of gloves, a hat, my running trousers, sox and shoes. I carried a small LED bike light.

I headed up the road and then up a bridle way nearby. On the bridle way I used my light to see the ground. It's a true bridle way - there's a farm with horses adjacent to it. Portions of this way had ice, but it was mostly clear. The ground was hard and frozen.

I turned off the bridle way onto an intersecting farm road. It was a clear winter's night, and the big dipper was visible to the north. There was just a sliver of a moon. My route had taken me up a hill, and the street lights from my town were visible below.

I headed to a bend in the road where there is a small cluster of houses and a farm. When I run past these I sometimes wonder what it must be like living out here, two miles or so from the village. Do the people who live out here feel isolated? More prosaically, as they are up on a hill, how is their water pressure?

I was warm, but had been out for 22 minutes, and so turned around and headed back. I arrived back at the house to find supper underway.

*

Last month, December, was the coldest month in Scotland for 63 years. The cold here is slightly different than what I've experienced in the midwest and northeastern U.S., in that there's a lot of humidity in the air. So, to me, the eqivalent temperature feels colder. Also, you get an accumulatation of frost on everything. This is particularly impressive when the trees are covered, as the one outside my office window was last month.