In praise of running club
All bow down to the mighty power of a club training run. Last night's run was a half marathon training run for the brave, or the normal 5 - 6 miler for those who didn't fancy it. I foolishly said I'd probably be up for the half when I left on Monday. I won't manage a long run at the weekend, so I thought it would be a good opportunity to do one midweek. Come yesterday afternoon it was pouring with rain, and even 5 miles seemed unappealing. But I had my stuff in my bag, and I'd said I'd be there. So I went.
In the end only three of us turned up for the 6.30 start (there was also an option of doing it faster at 7, or the short run at 7). Me, the person who introduced me to the club (and who is slower than me) and one older guy. Everyone else chickened out. I have to say that I didn't really blame them, but I was going to see it through.
Before I set out I did consider putting my car keys in my pocket. I get the bus to running club and my car was at home, but I knew that at about the 6 or 7 mile mark we'd pass within a mile of my house before heading back to the leisure centre. It was tempting to go out with the fallback plan of running 8 miles, picking up the car and driving back to pick up my stuff. I managed to persuade myself not to do it, I was in for the long haul (although admittedly Jill did bring a mobile with her).
When we set out we realised just how bad the rain was. Within minutes my socks were soaked and my trainers filling with water as I trudged through the unavoidable puddles and perfected the technique of pulling one leg through the spray sent up by the other foot as it hit the water. I was utterly soaked very quickly, and it somehow seemed pointless trying to move away from the edge of the pavement as a bus headed towards a puddle, because it couldn't have made us any wetter anyway.
Our pace was slow, slower than I'm used to doing long training runs. Because it was dark and wet and there were only three of us, we stuck together pretty much all the way round. There were times when I'd run ahead and then stop and wait for the other two to catch up, but I realised that I kept warmer if I was continuously moving, however slowly, than if I ran a bit faster and then stopped entirely. You got cold very quickly once you stopped. There were times where we ended up running in the middle of the road because of puddles that covered the pavement as well as the edge of the road, and times where we just ran through them. Dodging the traffic on a busy dual carriageway was also interesting.
I was surprised how easy I found it at that pace. We still averaged just over 11 minutes per mile, which isn't tortoise speed, but slower than my normal pace of nearer 10 minutes per mile. After 6 miles or so I was, apart from being soaked, feeling pretty fresh, and breezed up a hill that I'd never had the guts to run before (I usually plan my runs so that I run down it and come back a different way if I'm heading in that direction). Or maybe thinking about the wetness stopped me thinking about the distance? Anyway, this morning my legs barely felt like they'd done anything (a huge difference from how they felt after the Amsterdam half!).
Well, with one big exception. About a mile or so from the end, I stood on a random piece of car bumper that was on the pavement, and it threw me off balance. I spent the next four or five steps trying to prevent the inevitable. I knew I was heading towards the pavement, but just wondered if I could stop myself. I couldn't. Luckily there was no major damage. I was covered in grit, which stuck to my sodden clothes, and I had various grazes, but nothing was broken. We walked for a while, then started running because it was too cold to walk in such wet clothes, and it was close enough to the finish not be a daunting run with a slightly sore leg. It was painful to sleep on that side of my body overnight, and this morning I felt like I had a huge bruise down the side of my right leg, and my right palm is pretty grazed, but I suppose I got off pretty lightly with that one.
I've never been so relieved to go inside as I was at the end of that run. Not least because despite our relative slowness we beat the faster 7pm group back (I'd been expecting to be overtaken). My palm was stinging, I was soaked to the skin, and I just wanted to smother myself in towels and sit somewhere hot with soup or hot chocolate. Instead I peeled my clothes off (harder than you'd think when they've been stuck to you for the past 2+ hours) put on some vaguely dry clothes, immediately soaked my dry socks by putting my trainers back on, and headed to the pub to wait for the bus. They don't do anything particularly warming in the pub though (real working man's club type place - beer, beer or beer), so I had a very quick pint and headed back out for the bus. When I changed buses I've never been so glad to see a bus turn up 5 minutes early, cutting the time I had to wait outside between the two!
The great thing is though that I vaguely enjoyed it and I'm certainly glad I did it. I'd never have run a half marathon (or a "nearly half" marathon - the main loop is 12.5 miles, but there are a couple of detours to make up the distance which we didn't do) in that sort of weather, in the dark, after work, on my own. Possibly there are good reasons for that. But it proved to me that I can run better than I thought (I was easily the strongest runner in our little group most of the way round), that I can stick runs out when they feel horrible, and that I don't need to run for shelter at the first sign of raindrops. If joining a club can give me the accountability and incentive to head out for runs like that (and finish them), then it could be one of the best decisions I've made.
In the end only three of us turned up for the 6.30 start (there was also an option of doing it faster at 7, or the short run at 7). Me, the person who introduced me to the club (and who is slower than me) and one older guy. Everyone else chickened out. I have to say that I didn't really blame them, but I was going to see it through.
Before I set out I did consider putting my car keys in my pocket. I get the bus to running club and my car was at home, but I knew that at about the 6 or 7 mile mark we'd pass within a mile of my house before heading back to the leisure centre. It was tempting to go out with the fallback plan of running 8 miles, picking up the car and driving back to pick up my stuff. I managed to persuade myself not to do it, I was in for the long haul (although admittedly Jill did bring a mobile with her).
When we set out we realised just how bad the rain was. Within minutes my socks were soaked and my trainers filling with water as I trudged through the unavoidable puddles and perfected the technique of pulling one leg through the spray sent up by the other foot as it hit the water. I was utterly soaked very quickly, and it somehow seemed pointless trying to move away from the edge of the pavement as a bus headed towards a puddle, because it couldn't have made us any wetter anyway.
Our pace was slow, slower than I'm used to doing long training runs. Because it was dark and wet and there were only three of us, we stuck together pretty much all the way round. There were times when I'd run ahead and then stop and wait for the other two to catch up, but I realised that I kept warmer if I was continuously moving, however slowly, than if I ran a bit faster and then stopped entirely. You got cold very quickly once you stopped. There were times where we ended up running in the middle of the road because of puddles that covered the pavement as well as the edge of the road, and times where we just ran through them. Dodging the traffic on a busy dual carriageway was also interesting.
I was surprised how easy I found it at that pace. We still averaged just over 11 minutes per mile, which isn't tortoise speed, but slower than my normal pace of nearer 10 minutes per mile. After 6 miles or so I was, apart from being soaked, feeling pretty fresh, and breezed up a hill that I'd never had the guts to run before (I usually plan my runs so that I run down it and come back a different way if I'm heading in that direction). Or maybe thinking about the wetness stopped me thinking about the distance? Anyway, this morning my legs barely felt like they'd done anything (a huge difference from how they felt after the Amsterdam half!).
Well, with one big exception. About a mile or so from the end, I stood on a random piece of car bumper that was on the pavement, and it threw me off balance. I spent the next four or five steps trying to prevent the inevitable. I knew I was heading towards the pavement, but just wondered if I could stop myself. I couldn't. Luckily there was no major damage. I was covered in grit, which stuck to my sodden clothes, and I had various grazes, but nothing was broken. We walked for a while, then started running because it was too cold to walk in such wet clothes, and it was close enough to the finish not be a daunting run with a slightly sore leg. It was painful to sleep on that side of my body overnight, and this morning I felt like I had a huge bruise down the side of my right leg, and my right palm is pretty grazed, but I suppose I got off pretty lightly with that one.
I've never been so relieved to go inside as I was at the end of that run. Not least because despite our relative slowness we beat the faster 7pm group back (I'd been expecting to be overtaken). My palm was stinging, I was soaked to the skin, and I just wanted to smother myself in towels and sit somewhere hot with soup or hot chocolate. Instead I peeled my clothes off (harder than you'd think when they've been stuck to you for the past 2+ hours) put on some vaguely dry clothes, immediately soaked my dry socks by putting my trainers back on, and headed to the pub to wait for the bus. They don't do anything particularly warming in the pub though (real working man's club type place - beer, beer or beer), so I had a very quick pint and headed back out for the bus. When I changed buses I've never been so glad to see a bus turn up 5 minutes early, cutting the time I had to wait outside between the two!
The great thing is though that I vaguely enjoyed it and I'm certainly glad I did it. I'd never have run a half marathon (or a "nearly half" marathon - the main loop is 12.5 miles, but there are a couple of detours to make up the distance which we didn't do) in that sort of weather, in the dark, after work, on my own. Possibly there are good reasons for that. But it proved to me that I can run better than I thought (I was easily the strongest runner in our little group most of the way round), that I can stick runs out when they feel horrible, and that I don't need to run for shelter at the first sign of raindrops. If joining a club can give me the accountability and incentive to head out for runs like that (and finish them), then it could be one of the best decisions I've made.
posted by YP at 8:13 PM
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