A slow start to spring

It's nearly April, but it certainly doesn't feel like spring here. The skies are dark. The trees are barren. There were snow squalls today. Above is a picture of our local palace (which is a ruin) that I took yesterday.

March has been a reasonable month running-wise.

I was able to get 3-5 runs in every week, plus at least one swim.

One of my goals for the year was to break 1:30 in the half marathon, but I fell short of this at the Alloa Half Marathon earlier in the month. On a perfect day for running (cold; tailwind), I did 1:34:20. I gave it all I had, but there just weren't enough training miles in my legs to run stronger.

My next goal is a long hill race, so I need to get on the trails.

The Complete Book of Running

Just after New Years, I was finishing some errands in town, and went into a charity shop. These are the British equivalent of a GoodWill of Salvation Army store, with donated clothes, books, old records, etc. I was travelling the next week, and thought I'd see if there were any paperbacks that might be good to take along.

In the shop I found James Fixx's The Complete Book of Running. I was aware of this book - which heralded the first running boom in the 1970s (the second boom being today) - but had never read it. I only had some change on me, but at 50 pence ($0.75), it was mine.

The title of the book's forward is captivating: On the subversive nature of the this book. It recounts Fixx's introduction to running. He was an overweight smokers in his mid-30s, and he realised that he was going downhill when he injured himself in a game of tennis with a friend. He's shocked that his body has betrayed him.

So he starts running. He enters a local 5-mile race, and is surprised by the pace at the start. Fixx drifts back through the crowd, and eventually finishes last.

But he sticks with it, and starts running every day. And a transformation occurs:

...what I found even more interesting were the changes that had begun to take place in my mind. I was calmer and less anxious. I could concentrate more easily and for longer periods. I felt more in control of my life. I was less easily rattled by unexpected frustrations.

The book draws you in. Obviously, much more is known about the health consequences of running now, but Fixx has chapters on longevity, weight, running over 40, women, and injury.

The book is old school, but I found it engaging. Fixx has a special interest in the Boston marathon, and even goes for a run with Bill Rodgers.

In "The scientists of sport" chapter, he presents data from David Costill on how to train. Costill's arguement is that it takes several days to recover the glycogen store depleted by longer miles, and so the focus should be more on monthly, as opposed to weekly, miles. In his view, the way to build distance is to alternate weeks with higher miles and lower miles, and overall increase. (I've been doing something different in the build up to my half marathon - increasing miles each week - but it's something I'll consider).

In his conclusion, Fixx argues that running provides a link with our primal selves:

My suspicion is that the effects of running are not extraordinary at all, but quite ordinary. It is the other states, all other feelings that are peculiar, for they are an abnegation of the way you and I are intended to feel. As runners, I think we reach directly back along the endless chain of history. We experience what we would have felt had we lived ten thousand years ago, eating fruits, nuts and vegetables and keeping our hearts and lungs and muscles fit by constant movement.


James Fixx died of a heart attack at age 52, after a run. For some this may undermine the message of the book, however Fixx's father had a heart attack at 35, and died 8 years later, so genetic factors may be at play.

Overall, the book has survived well. It's clear, engaging, and still has the power to motivate.

Trying to get back to consistent running

The past few weeks have felt inconsistent, running-wise.

Total miles:

First week Jan.: 3 (but skiing every day)
Second week Jan.: 20 with cross country race at end
Third week Jan.: 10 no running during weekdays, flu early in week
Fourth week Jan.: 22.8 trying to get strength back

First week Feb. 29 miles much more like it!

I'm doing a half-marathon in March, and was hoping to run a good time. The flu knocked me back a bit, and even after the fever passed (I didn't run for six days), I felt weak. In the midst of the flu, as I shuffled around the house with my head down, I wondered if this is how it felt to be old.


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The days are getting longer here in Scotland, and the sun has some warmth during the day. We've had some snow in our back yard for the past few weeks, and it is still hanging on.

December light

Christmas arrived all at once. My children had school through Tuesday, and that evening the in-laws arrived. The next day included a final trip to the grocery store and preparation for Christmas lunch the next day.

Activity-wise, my week has been as follows:

Mon.: no running
Tues.: swim 1600m
Weds.: 5 miles first thing in the morning (in the dark!) with two friends
Thurs. (X-mas): 4 easy miles around the loch in the evening, to get some fresh air after cooking and eating all day
Fri.: 8 mile trail race.
Sat.: no running
Sun.: 6.2 miles cross-country with a friend on a frosty morning

My knee was sore after last Sunday's run in the woods, so I was beginning to feel that I'd done too much last week (22 miles). Wednesday's and Thursday's runs were fine, though there was a little soreness. There's an annual handicap trail race nearby the next day (Boxing day -the day after Christmas), and I was keen to do it. It consists of two laps through the woods with some stiff hills. During the first lap, I thought I might be forced to pull out, as the knee was hurting, despite wearing a knee band. On the second lap, I picked it up, and perhaps because I was warm, the pain dissipated.

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Walking to the store yesterday I was struck by the late December light on the sycamore trees that line our street.

The shortest day of the year

Yesterday, as I walked home from the grocery store with my 9 year old son, the sun was setting. It was 3:30 in the afternoon! Just after 4:00 I took this photo from my back door. (It was actually darker than the photo suggests - I had a 2 second exposure.)

My running is picking up. I self-diagnosed "runners knee" (as I know it wasn't illiotibial band syndrome, a pain I know well), and backed off the running considerably. Last week I ran three miles in total, and took five consecutive days off of running. Perhaps the latter doesn't sound like much, but my habit is to never go two consecutive days without running.

I was trying to listen to my body. Every time I ran, my knee hurt. There's a simple solution to this, and eventually I acknowledged it.

But this week has been better:

Monday: 2 easy miles on the track, to test the knee. It was fine. Light upper-body weights after.
Tuesday: 5 easy miles with the running club. I cut off early as I didn't want to ramp up the miles too quickly.
Wednesday: nothing
Thursday: swim 1400 meters
Friday: 5 miles on the track, some slightly faster; light upper-body weights after
Saturday: 4 miles (3.1 of which were a parkrun race); knee fine
Sunday (today): planned 6-miler on trails

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Today is the shortest day of the year. How can I make it count?

December running

I've been nursing my right knee a bit over the past two weeks. I think I overdid it on a 10-mile run the week before last. It was hilly, on road, and I was tired. I thought I could push through - and I did - but since then my right knee has been stiff and swollen after runs or even after sitting in my office. I had a few knee twinges before this 10-miler, so I'm a little uncertain about the cause.

All this said, my consistency and fitness are coming back.

To that end, I was keen to get a few easy miles in on Saturday morning. A run through the soft ground of the woods beckoned.

The light was low, and the day was short.

In the woods there was the sound of the winds on the bare trees, the branches rubbings against one another, and the skittering of leaves under foot. I took it easy, but on flat stretches picked up the pace a bit. I did 16 minutes out, and 15 back.

I could feel my knee, but it was bearable. I'm not sure if activity or rest is the best bet now for it, but I really don't want to rest.

Running without a clear goal

Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth. Henry David Thoreau, Walden

The sun is lower in the sky here in Scotland, and the shadows are long. The temperatures have been mixed; we've had some cold nights, but during the day it has usually been mild.

November can be a slightly bleak month, but the light can also be wonderful. It seems like a time to take stock of the year, and plan for the next year.

Running-wise, I'm trying to get back to consistency. I'd like to be around 30 miles a week, with at least one swim in addition.

As the year winds down, I've started thinking of goals for next year.

I could do another marathon. I will do some hill races.

At the moment, the only clear goals are:

1) To break 1:30 in the half marathon.

2) To do the Isle of Jura hill race.

These could be enough, but I rather miss the structure of a marathon training cycle to get through the winter months. Also, the miles I put in for marathon training pay dividends for everything else. I'll do a half in March, so that could be a sufficient goal.

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After some disruption from travelling, I am trying to get back to normal sleeping. The long dark nights are helping.