Down Time

I’ve just come back from a shorter long run this morning, a steady eight miles. Because last week I finally got over the ten-mile barrier that had seemed so elusive, it gave me an easy mathematical calculation to dial back to 80% for my ‘down’ week.

If you have pored over as many training plans as I have, you’ll know they recommend one of those every three or four weeks. It apparently reduces injuries and lets your body rest and consolidate the previous weeks’ work before you push on to the next section. Think of it like climbing a very high mountain. You do a chunk, rest up, and then climb higher.

When I occasionally do get into a regular habit of training, I look forward to these weeks, as firstly, I’m naturally lazy, and secondly, it’s kind of good for the ego to know that, whereas a few weeks ago, eight miles felt like hard work, it now feels quite comfortable. I usually time it around when I have my period, which currently seems to have sped up to a 25 day cycle for some reason. My energy levels naturally take a dive then so it works out well.

This week I’m also starting to feel the sad loss of my usual masseur, which is ironic as when I did use to visit her once a month, she’d normally leave me crying. But she has magic hands that sorted out all the tight spots before they built up too much. My last appointment with her was back in January, and then she left to give birth. I may have to explore other options while she’s on Mat. leave but it’s a difficult thing to allow yourself to be prodded and pummelled by a complete stranger. Perhaps, what I actually need is to double-down on the yoga and the foam rolling until she comes back. We’ll see.

My down week also coincided with a downturn in the weather which was fortunate. As instead of getting spray-gunned by hailstones and pushed back by a driving wind during the first of this year’s (fully live and non-virtual) Wirral Seaside Runs, I put on a woolly hat, two layers of gloves, four layers of clothing plus a big fat winter coat and marshalled.

I’ve written about these runs before in a blog, but as I’m part of the ‘putting-it-together’ squad now, this first one was a learning curve. Nigel had a big carload of gear, like signs, fold up tables, gazebos etc, that needed setting up, at the beginning, along the course and at the end. 

Then, of course, there were the people required to dish out the numbers and pins, register late-comers (although to be fair, I don’t think anybody had any last minute thoughts along that line with this weather) and get them started. There were marshals to keep them on track, the people making sure they all pass the blue mats that register the chips, the person dishing out water and the first-aid person.

And before all of that, you need someone to drum up the interest by getting all the advertising done in the weeks before hand.

All this for a 5K run! 

I was just there to help get the equipment up at the start and finish, so I still don’t know the full extent of the effort required, but what I do know is, that these races, however small, need people. To organise, to help out, to be part of the team that makes it happen. And if there are no volunteers, the runs just won’t run.

This first Wirral Seaside Run did happen, even though the weather was shocking, and we spent half the time pushing the final 10-metre funnel posts back in, that the wind flung out. The winner rocked up in 18:13, and the final person clocked 40:14. Both of those, and all the nearly two hundred people in between, braved the elements to help make a local race successful. 

Five more to go this year, and fingers crossed, the weather will be kinder. I’m hoping to run in at least one or two of them myself, but I was happy this week to clap them in, just so I could get the feeling back into my fingers.