Damned Lies And Statistics

I am a sucker for statistics, but I like to think that I’m not beholden to them. I use them to find patterns and correlations in a slightly more scientific manner than the augurys of old.

At the beginning of March last year, I was able to complete a 20-mile race in three hours and 46 minutes.  Yesterday, in a training run, I dribbled my way to 18 miles in around four hours and 15 minutes.

The difference between then and now? Well, it was a lot warmer yesterday. The humidity was such that I was starting to drip within a couple of miles of leaving the house. But my weekly mileage is up, and I have regularly been managing to do one session of weights per week for the last ten weeks, so I should, at the very least, be matching what I managed last year.

The weights are great. They seem to have been a game-changer when it has come to recovery and injuries. A week after my last March’s 20 miles, I managed to get a dodgy right knee that stopped me doing any more long runs before my mid-April marathon. Now, I’ve had 100+ mile months since February, and I’m rarely lounging around feeling dog-tired in between. At some point, hopefully, they will help me to get a bit faster, but, at the moment, I’m pleased with how strong I feel.

My poor showing yesterday, was also partly to do with the number of races I’d had in the week. A half marathon at Freckleton on Sunday; the Wirral Multi-Terrain 10K (with a good mile on the beach) on Tuesday; and the Tattenhall Tough 9-miler on Friday which involved 310 steep steps up an old narrow rail-track in the middle. 

I have, however, been struggling with all my long runs this year regardless of the buildup. Last year, an average of 12-minute miles would have been my comfortable pace to build up along. This year, I’m pleased if I’m in the 13s. So, what is going on?

I am eating well, and sleeping well generally, I’m getting better at my nutrition and electrolyte intakes so that I rarely get headaches after. 

The only thing I can put it down to is something that isn’t always tangible, or that can’t be measured by statistics. 

Perimenopause.

When people say that word, the most well know condition is the hot flush. I haven’t had these (yet) or the night sweats. I rarely have sleepless nights, or joint pain (quite the opposite, now I’m doing the weights).

What I have noticed is that my periods are even more irregular than they used to be. My weight is stubbornly staying a little bit over my ideal. And I’m nipping to the loo a bit more. Yesterday, during my run I needed three wild wees – on one of them my bum got a bit too close and personal to some stinging nettles. 

I think that I am working against something invisible happening inside my body and I can’t measure it. It feels quite frustrating sometimes, when you can’t always get out what you put in. 

It’s not all going backwards, however. Since my slow start to the year, I have been slowly, painstakingly, incrementally improving. And getting stronger. So although I’m battling this invisible life change, it’s not yet consuming me.

I’m tapering for my 50K now (hoorah), and despite my tribulations, those 18 miles where I stayed on my feet yesterday have still contributed to my training. All I can do now, is to forget about times and stats, and enjoy it.