Cold, Damp + Tired = Epic Fail

• Posted: August 7, 2008
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• Author: Shéamus
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• Filed under: Observations, Workouts
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• Tags: No tags set for this entry.

You’d like to think in the week running up to your first-ever proper race you’d be showing signs of improvement, not getting steadily worse.

This, however, has not been the greatest batch of preparation for my participation at the Elvis Presley International this coming Saturday. Earlier this week I’ve been plagued with gastronomical problems, and today I was just… rubbish.

It was raining when I woke up. Hallelujah, I thought - surely this will cool the weather down the bit? And it did - by about two degrees. Meantime, the already 100 per cent humidity seemed to defy all sense of logic and climbed even higher. I mean, okay, that’s kind of what you’d expect, but it was humid. Just being outside for a moment was enough to make your clothes immediately damp, even when sheltered.

I waited for the rain to stop and then set out, almost an hour later than normal. I knew within quarter of a mile that things just weren’t right.

First, I was freezing. It took a full two miles for my fingers to warm up. Before that, they were numb and cold against my face. My legs and particularly my left knee were also cold and felt unusually stiff and sluggish. The air-con in the house is set to 71, and it was about that when I got outside. Subsequently, I never really warmed up. I’m used to that happening pretty much instantly. I’ve been somebody who needs to stretch or do an opening jog or anything like that.

Second, as said, it was just so humid. So unbearably humid. The air was thick with moisture and this stuck to my body and made me feel even cooler. And not in a pleasant, I’m running really well and this is just what I need way. No, it was the miserable, I’m running really badly, I’m feeling cold and stiff and this is making it all worse kind.

Third, I was hungry. I had no energy. In an attempt to ward off my bathroom bugaboos, I’d decided to just have 16oz of water and half a bottle of G2 before my run today. This, however, left me feeling like I had nothing whatsoever in the tank. And anything that was tucked away in my hidden emergency reserves was quickly drained off me thanks to the excessive and immediate sweating caused by the humidity. I mean, I was sweating. It was pouring off, stinging my eyes and needing constant attention to wipe away.

Fourth, for the first time in quite a while, I had a few beers last night. Now, it wasn’t to excess and I’ve done this before on several occasions before a run the next day. But back home I usually run in the early evening, whereas today the last drop of sweet, sweet amber nectar touched my lips less than eight hours before my feet hit the pavement.

Finally, I had about six hours sleep. Back home, this does me fine, but here I’ve been used to 7-8 hours each and every night.

All this stuff when totalled up added up to a big old pile of lousy. The only upside was that I didn’t need to use the toilet. (Which means my choices at the moment seem to be I can either be a shit runner or a runner who needs a shit.)

Splits and chart:

It’s not all bad. Scratch away at the misery on the surface and you can find one or two things to approve of. I could have quit early - as said I felt cold and that something was wrong after a couple of miles and my thoughts turned to just doing twenty minutes and then going home. But I pushed on. At three miles, I could have thought, ‘To hell with this lousy pace, I’ve had enough,’ and thrown in the towel, but I stayed around for one more (lousy) mile. However you look at it, four bad miles is better than two or three. And down the line as I work towards upping my weekly mileage, this kind of thing is going to become a lot more common. So there’s some good there.

The frustrating thing is my inners. Writing this now, while breakfast is being prepared downstairs, I am positively famished. It could well be that everything else was the issue today and that not consuming anything but water and a little energy drink before my morning runs (and the race this weekend) is the key to avoiding pit stops, but I did feel empty from the start and it’s going to take more experimentation.

Alas, I am out of time. Tomorrow I plan to do a little bit of last-minute speedwork and hopefully dash off 2-3 fast miles, with recovery breaks in between, to get my legs ready for Saturday. I’m really not sure what to expect from the race. Coming over here I had high hopes for setting a new personal best and was thinking that being in the moment might push me on to a sub-22 minute run, or better. But looking at things now, and seeing how tough it’s been this week, I suspect that assuming a PB is on the cards might be folly. I’m certainly going to go out and give it 100 per cent, but these conditions are tough, and in many respects it’s more important that I run well and enjoy it than going there and trying to place.

Ah, to hell with that - that’s quitter’s talk! I’m in this thing to win.

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