Flogging a Dead Horse

Sometimes everything just falls into place.  This weekend was not such an occasion.

In a stark contrast from the Olympian performance of seven days earlier, spectators at the windy, run-down Saffron Lane track this weekend were treated to a master class in turning a promising performance in to a 3:40 final kilometre plod to the line, in a state of torturous purgatory which would just not end. 

This abysmal display of back-running ended a promising sequence of four PBs, but economised my afternoon by alleviating the need for a warm-down.

Indeed pundit analysis following this spectacle suggested that “Carter may have to relinquish his dream of remodelling himself as a 5k runner, and accept that he is just no good at any distance.” 

Buoyed by this criticism, paparazzi at Metchley Park last night captured me successfully hurdle a 35cm railing, fuelling speculation that I may be making my steeplechase debut on my next outing.

Alternatively, breakfast time browsing through Alastair’s Runners World magazine unveiled a training programme for the time-pressed individual, which assuredly guarantees a “fast track to a 5k PB on under 90 minutes a week training.”  This is exciting, and I look forward to running sub-16 following the completion of this programme.

Runner's world guarantee of a 5k PB.

Every Horse Has His Day

Sometimes everything just falls into place. 

Six months of training culminated with Heat 2 of the Men’s 5,000m, the main event, in the centre piece of the 2012 year – Populous’s £486m Olympic Stadium.  Despite being equipped with Saucony’s Fastwitch 5, costing a mere 220 grams per foot, pre-event training had been poor, but with a boost of being drawn in the same event as former rival Steven Bayton, meaning that friends and family, and the 6,000 spectators only had to pay keen attention to one 12 ½ lapper.

The 5k was an aerobically challenging experience, with the primary aim being not to be lapped by the afore-mentioned man from Halifax.  Elated by achieving this aim by circa 15 metres, I scampered to finish the final two furlongs in a hasty 67 seconds, for a concious lifetime record of 16:14.

The Final Furlong (Video by Sarah Mac, pun by Alison Camp)

The following day was a delicious slab of icing on a delicious cake.  I only ever entered the 10,000m as a back up due to BUCS controversial entry procedure, but after a pizza and video evidence review, the decision was made: “why not?”  A late night ice bath and a few hours sleep preceded the 6:20am start, to race for the second time in 18 hours.

For the first 200m, I took up my customary place at the back of the field preparing myself for a long morning, but I moved swiftly through the ambition-starters, digging deep into the faulting limbs, for what in reflection, was the most effortlessly proficient display of running, tactics and elegance the stadium had seen [that morning].

My stadium record – for the second fastest 10,000m ever ran in that venue – was personified with a Ovett-style raised arm celebration reflecting the elation at smashing my PB by 18 seconds, in an event that I hadn’t ever planned to do 24 hours earlier.  How I dragged that performance out of tired legs, I will never know. 

Even superhero Bayton was impressed, failing to follow up his magnificent 5k PB the previous day with an identikit performance.

But not to be outdone, Sarah McCormack, livid at only making it onto the number three spot on my all time favourite athletes list, performed a championship highlight, rocketing home in 34:31, a genuine stadium record, and the opportunity to urinate into a small cup in front of total strangers.  She described it as “the perfect day”, and was rewarded by just under one square inch on page 15 of last weeks Athletics Weekly.

A BUCS Gold medal.  Maybe in another lifetime for me.

BUCS Outdoors Preview

Six months ago - and these winter months have not flown - I set myself a wee target: 15:50 for 5000m at BUCS Outdoors, a race that is now but six days away. 

I didn’t know at the time if it was achievable: I was working off no fitness whatsoever, and didn’t even know if I would get a place at the event, or if BCU had an athletics team.  For the record, they don’t, but the controversial selection process has let me with entry in both distance events.

For someone once described by their physio as having the running technique of a stroke victim, I have changed almost everything in the last six months.  I’ve addressed unsymmetrical biomechanics, an aversion to morning training, and even started incorporating extra fruit and veg in my diet.  I’ve even instigated a move away from the mighty Structure Triax shoe - the brick of shoes as my training companions call it - and purchased a rather colourful ‘Fastwitch’ shoe, the irony of which will become apparent on the start line.

Recent events, namely the selfishness of the Usain Bolt and his mates on the Jamaican National Team coming to Birmingham this summer means the local facilities are being resurfaced, depriving me of the reassurance of pacing in my sessions.  As such, I have literally no idea what shape I’m in, no idea how fast I can run this weekend.  The result will be as much of a surprise to me as everyone else, but it will truly be an Olympic occasion.

Warm Weather.....Training

5000m goal : 15:50

5k PB : 16:21

5k SB (post-Sept 2011) : 16:21

I’ve never been on a warm weather training holiday before.  To clarify for the uninitiated, this involves going away with friends to a supposedly warm place, to train hard and effectively in a different environment without the pressures of work and everyday life.  For myself and eight friends over the last two weeks, this was largely the plan, however it didn’t quite unfold like this.

Villamoura instead was the venue for 10 days of celebrity spotting, in which Alex Tovey, who sports a gentleman’s 1500m of 3:46 which he dubiously claims not to have run in Nike Structure Triax footwear, consistently embarrassed us with his audible outcries of recognition. 

Tovey, who is also rumoured to have met Nick Goolab in the flesh, limited the number of miles which were ran in over 7 minutes to a cruel 1.23, with word around the pool stating that this was to test his vast array of running vests at speed to see which would be the most colourful when he lines up at the UK trials this June.

Tovey, Alex can be seen on the BBC, June 24^th-26^th 2012.

Unfortunately his training shadow Millborg, earlier disqualified from the alcopop strawpedo competition, crumbled under the pressure of recently being voted my 2^nd ever favourite athlete, with a late night drunken long jump into the villa pool resulting in a season-ending scrapped knee, which did nothing to help his hangover the next day.  Even Miss Squires herself broke down on the track a few days later in a lactate-enhanced emotional display as she realised the consequences of this drunken night, in which R. Kelly’s ‘Bump and Grind’ was accidently requested seconds before the karaoke bar filled with Liz McColgan’s training group, average age 12.

Millett, back left, scrambling out of the pool in after a 
season-ending rush of blood to the head.

Some of R. Kelly’s finest lyrics were performed to an
inappropriate audience.

Chief Personal Motivator and Head Movement Coach Howard, administering a balanced training programme between mileage and factor 4 tanning oil was my co-conspirator in the tempo run of the year (through a sample of two), draconically efficient in marshalling the range between the fastest and slowest miles to one second.  Its success was such that not only did Eilish McColgan take to the trails to try and join in, but one lucky individual even made off with Nando’s t-shirt as a souvenir, teaching him a valuable lesson in ‘couples karma’.  Withnesses gave a description matching one Dave Howlett, who had previously almost single-handedly dragged up the villa’s daily per-person mileage average to double figures without any fuss.

Amongst the sun bathing, post run dips in the pool and over indulgence in snacks resembling dog biscuits, it is hoped that this athlete (me, that is) managed to bagsy enough training effect to improve on the 3minutes and 1 second which I am adrift from the required Olympic A-Standard ahead of this summers global showdown.  With Chris Thornburg already securing fabricated tickets just to see me, it my sole hope that I wont let him down.

Official UKA sources believe that all athletes on the trip managed to perform at least some token training, including our P.E coordinator, Leigh-Ann, whose new found proficiency in middle distance terminology is reportedly the reason behind a secret recruitment by Alberto Salazar to help Farah get back to winning ways.

A WAG, Emily Armstrong also attended the trip.

Emily, pictured front right, actually cooks a spiffing lasagne, 

and was recruited by this restaurant shortly after.

Horses for Courses

It had all been so promising in June; a PB of 9:20 for 3000m and potential for more on the 1st of the month, but within 3 weeks I was lying on my back with my feet in the air, hoping somehow that being upside down might exorcise the blasted tendonitis.  Since then, I have achieved no PBs, but optimistically did log a 10 minute long-jog in the park with an average heart rate of 172 in early September.  The walk home from that one was both enforced, and to save embarrassment from not being able to make it up the short incline back to our pad without being overtaken by an obese jogger.

But, after 3 months of injury, I’ve made it through the 6 weeks of rehab and built up my mileage from next to nothing and I now sit on some very sore hamstrings and a sore back from my first fast session last night.  How refreshing it is to have aches and pains in different parts of my body from the peroneal, the little finger injury equivalent of not being able to run.

6 months and about a week, this is the time frame until the BUCS outdoor competition which incidentally will be held in the almighty Olympic stadium, and in no way influenced my decision to return to uni to do my Part 3 architecture this academic year.  According to Ally and Alison's cupboard door, i have no current athletic pedigree, with my name almost absent from the 'house season leads' chart carefully blue-tacked parallel to the wood grain.  Fortunately for me however, I did trip over our early learning centre playmat the other day and accidently record a triple jump house lead of 1 meter 16 centimetres, notching my name.  Arguably the most vulnerable discipline on there, Ally has continually threatened to supersede this near world record every time I leave the room.  Still, all-round improvements are needed against my inferred sub-22 minute pace if I'm going to take the required 6 minutes off and not soil the track which Mister Farah will probably be kissing 3 months later.

Speaking of Ally, the current holder of the house leads for 3 and 5km, he appears to currently be my stiffest male house challenger, and after an impressive effort defrosting a sink's worth of ice from our stubborn freezer, I have no reason to doubt that he has logged this as another mile of cross-training on his child-like chart.  The 12th of November is a key date for us, with our scheduled parkrun face-off looming.  The winner will hold the house lead for probably less than 90 seconds until Alison crosses the line (for a women-adjusted leading time), and the loser forced to machine wash their thermal underwear while the heating remains off.