The Marathon Training Blog: Week 11

March 30, 2025 notbuilttorunLeave a comment

“Death by stereo!”

Sam Emerson, The Lost Boys

I’ve noted that the one thing missing from these blogs, apart from entertainment, is the lack of stats. I love stats. Who doesn’t? Want some? No? Tough titty.

Thanks to a number of complicated calculations I’ve completed via my fingers and toes, I can tell you that I’m 69% of the way through Marathon training. Additionally, I can technically run 85% of the Marathon distance. Also, my body is 74% broken.

As we approach the last full week in March, I’m on 519 miles for the year. A total I wouldn’t usually hit until the end of May. In fact, by the end of the week that will pass 550.

My average long run on the weekend has been 17.1 miles. Average time spent running a week – 7 hours 31 mins. Yeah, yeah Vorderman, get to the point.

The point is thus; I’m doing ok. I’ve done what I said I would do, which in itself wasn’t anything complicated. Follow the plan, do it properly.

See all the above as my 10 week pep talk. Yes I’m tired. Yes some of the runs are getting tedious. But I’m still standing, and I’m nearly there. Eye of the fucking Tiger. We can do this.

After a Weights session on the Monday, it’s back to running on Tuesday. The plan has me taking a break completely this week from any of the Club sessions. So instead of the track, I have to head out for an easy 8 miles.

This 8 miles turns out to be the most enjoyable run in weeks. In fact, since I started this plan of pain 10 weeks ago. It’s been a beautiful Spring day, and the days are getting noticeably longer.

I head down the Wagonway, the first time I’ve run on it since the 12k Trail Run quagmire in January, and it’s gorgeous. The Sun is sitting low in the sky to my left, still giving off some warmth, the mud is gone, and everything just feels greener. Add in that I’m listening to my Fender playlist, and this is just about perfect.

The Shields Springsteen

At the end of the Wagonway I drop down to the sea front, following it all the way back to the Dome. As I approach the finish, a kid in a Liverpool top is coming directly towards me and so I can’t resist. I look him dead in the eye and slowly mouth ‘TWO-ONE’ at him. He’s about 8, but I’ve never felt so alive.

It isn’t all sunshine and rainbows though. I do my cool down stretching later and I feel really lethargic and sore. It’s odd, as I felt so great earlier on, and it was the least intense Tuesday I’ve had in months.

The weather is set to stay nice for a few more days, so I decide why not stick to the Wagonway for my 6 easy? I’m not usually a fan of out and backs, but with the Wagonway I never mind.

As I’m about to head out, my teenage daughter informs me she’s at her mates – who lives down the sea front – and when I’ve finished my run can I swing by and walk back home with her. That’s nowhere near the Wagonway. Bloody teenagers.

So I hastily work out a random 10k that sees me run through the streets, onto the Lighthouse (again somewhere I haven’t run to in a while) then finish at the Dome. It’s not as nice as last night, but it‘s still mild and light and enjoyable.

Sadly though, it’s time for Thursday Intervals. The Drunk Uncle of the week. This week’s session is especially epic. 1 x 2 miles at Marathon Pace, 3 x 3 miles at Marathon Pace. I’m going to aim for 9 min miles. Slightly faster than what I plan to do for the Marathon, but a pace I know I can easily maintain.

It’s another nice Spring day and evening, although there is a little bit of a wind. It’s the kind of wind I don’t mind though. It just makes getting out there much easier. I think back to some of the shite I’ve had to drag my arse out into these past 3 months. I’ve never been so delighted to see Spring.

After company last week, this one I’m doing on my own. I’ve now firmly abandoned the repetitive loops round the local estate. When I was doing 1km or 1 mile Intervals then they served their purpose. But 3 miles? No thanks.

I’m going to follow the route we did last week, along the coast, into Shields, round that, then back again. This ends up being less awful than I anticipated. The whole session comes in just under 13 miles, but it doesn’t feel like it. It’s done, that’s all that counts.

Friday morning I’m up for my Easy 4 and Hills, and I can definitely feel all of those 12 from the night before. As I stand outside my front gate waiting for my GPS to kick in, I inadvertently let out a big sigh that echoes round my street in the early morning silence. I think that sums it up.

This week’s long run will be on the Saturday. Ironically, this is because I’m out on the drink with the running club in the evening, so Sunday morning is just not going to happen.

This long run is supposed to be structured with Marathon Pace miles followed by recovery pace miles. However, just like the last time I was meant to do one of these types of long runs, I’m not going to follow that.

Instead, I’m going to do the whole 21 miles in what I *think* will be my Marathon Pace. I’m going to go off a tiny bit quicker, then try and maintain it, rather than starting slow then pushing myself to too fast a pace later on. Something I think I’ve been guilty of.

It’s a nice morning, not the warmest, but the wind is westerly. Which means I’ll be running into it for 9 miles or so when I turn inland. It’s not a strong wind, but it’s constant with a bit of chill in it.

When it’s time to turn at the 13 mile point, it’s a relief to now have it behind me for the next 8. Despite that wind, this is going to plan, and I’m holding steady at a 9:20 average pace.

At mile 15 I do feel a little fatigue. Nothing major though, and to be expected when I haven’t had my usual Saturday rest day. I’m maintaining my pace, getting a bit faster actually, and the last few miles are completed in warm sunshine.

21.2 miles done in 3:17:11, at a 9:17 pace.

It probably goes without saying, but I’m delighted with that. Far better than I planned, and whilst not ‘comfortable’, certainly not uncomfortable.

Every week I keep expecting shit to hit the fan, and every week it’s landing in the bowl. And flushing first time. Or something.

5 weeks left. Hang on in there.

Mood: Powering through.

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 10

March 23, 2025March 23, 2025 notbuilttorunLeave a comment

“They’re only noodles Michael’

David, The Lost Boys

I had already started this post last week, and my opening line was ‘what Cup Final?’

I’ll tell you what Cup Final. THE CUP FINAL WE ONLY WENT AND FUCKING WON. In my last post I mentioned that I was off to London for the weekend to watch my team get beat. Did they get beat? Did they shite. I was never worried. Ahem.

22 successful miles completed on the Friday, from Saturday morning when I got on the train till Monday evening when I returned back in Gods Country, I drank copious amounts of alcohol. The Saturday especially, I was sitting in a curry house at midnight, slobbering on a Kurma and downing what was probably my gazillionith pint of the day.

What an athlete.

I had an amazing time, I wouldn’t swap it for anything, and my liver will eventually forgive me.

But to quote Soul II Soul – back to life, back to reality. We’re into Week 10 of Marathon training, there is no escaping it.

And Tuesdays session is an absolute shitter to come back to. Hills. Not any old hills, the Hill at the Priory that I mentioned a couple of weeks back. And this is not 10 cushy seconds of reps, this is 3 and half relentless miles of going up and down the bastard.

I set out on my warm up, the first time I’ve run since Friday morning, and my stomach feels like it still has all of the contents of the last 3 days in it. Guinness, shots, fry ups, etc. I know this is going to hurt.

There’s an awful, and I mean fucking awful head wind on the way to the session as well. I’ve got a painful upper back, another old injury that I usually keep at bay through daily Yoga. The daily Yoga that I haven’t done for 3 days.

I also have a slight pain in my right hip. And this one’s not a running injury. I have a huge bruise, caused by celebrating one of the goals at the Cup Final. I only realised I’d done it when I woke up Monday morning. Which is almost a drunken cliche.

This session is easy in structure, but hard in content. Start at the very bottom, hard to the first lamppost, easy back to the start. Then hard up to the next lamppost, back to start, and so on until we reach the top. There are a shit load of lampposts.

About half way through, I’m not sure if I want to throw up or shit myself. Both seem feasible at this point. Somehow, I battle through both of these potential faux pas, and no bodily fluids are projected onto or around my fellow club runners. I jog back home, for a very tired 10 miler in total.

Wednesday evening I head out for my Easy 6, but there is nothing easy about it. It’s by the far the most tired I’ve been on a run in a long time. I somehow drag my alcohol detoxing arse around for 10k, thankful that it’s just out the way.

It’s not due to get any easier. It’s Threshold Thursday. Having escaped it last week due to switching my long run to Friday, it’s back with a vengeance this week. 3 x 3 mile Intervals. Fuck my life.

Thankfully, I’m not the only one who is dreading this 9 miles of shite. A couple of lads from the club, who are also Marathon training, ask me if I want to go out and do this together, to try and make it less of a slog. Absolutely.

We meet on the sea front and head out towards Tynemouth, into North Shields, then back again. The pace is quickish, but it’s just what I needed. It’s not only great to have someone help pace me, it’s also nice to have good company. The time flies.

When I get back, I’m starting to feel human for the first time since getting back from Wembley. I’ve sweated out the crap and got back into the groove.

It’s 4 miles at easy pace with hill reps on the Friday morning, and the legs are heavy. I find all of this hard work, but it’s another of my training plan sessions knocked off. In the evening I do a core weights session, something I would usually do on a Monday but didn’t, as I was still pissed.

Saturday is going to be a rest day. I’ve earned it. I do another weights session in the afternoon, nothing too intense, but no running.

The Sunday long run is only, ONLY, 18 miles. Officially, I’m supposed to be starting slow, finishing quicker on this one. The weather, for once, is perfect. Dull, 7 degrees, dry – I would have killed for this 6 weeks ago.

After last week’s enforced change in course, it’s back to the usual route – south along the sea front, inland, turning dependent on the length, then back towards the coast.

After completing 20 and 22 miles, it would be easy to approach this run with the mindset that it’s a piece of piss. As I’ve said before though, respect the distance and all that. And that’s exactly what I will be doing.

The plan is to set off a little bit quicker than usual, by about 10 second a mile, see how I feel, then hopefully either stick with that or get even quicker.

The first 7 miles I hold at about 9:25 mile pace, exactly what I was looking at. Then from mile 8 I step it up a tiny bit, and by mile 11 I’m hovering around the 9 min mile mark. I feel like I’m pushing it, but not to the point where I’m going to punch myself out.

Apart from a bit of wind when running North, the weather behaves itself all the way round, and I complete 18.24 miles in 2:48:47 – a 9:15 pace.

That’s the ‘quickest’ long run I’ve done since starting this process 10 weeks ago. Could I maintain that pace for another 8 mile? Not sure. Probably not. While it’s tempting to have a go (this pace would get me a 4:02 finish) the realist in me knows I should be aiming more towards the 9:20s.

Anything from 9:20 to 9:31 pace gets me a sub 4:10. Honestly, if I get a finish with anything that is 4:0x, I’ll be as happy as a pig in shit. I’m not tempted to try and push myself to a sub 4 hour (9:09 pace). Not this time, anyway. What is it I’m always saying? Nowt daft!

So, what a fucking week. A drunken Cup Final in London one Sunday, a quick 18 miler the next one. What a time to be alive.

Mood: Winning

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 9

March 14, 2025 notbuilttorunmarathon, Running, RunningBlog, trainingLeave a comment

“One thing about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach; all the damn vampires”

Grandpa, The Lost Boys

Hold on, this one’s going to be a rollercoaster. Week 9. The first (and hopefully only) week where I won’t be able to run at all on the weekend.

Instead, this weekend I will be London. As the football (soccer to my US friends) team I support have got themselves to a Cup Final. So I’m off to the home of Football Cup Finals, Wembley Stadium, to attend it on Sunday.

Reasons for celebration? Not really. The team I support, who’ve I’ve been going to watch every week since I was 7, are always the Bridesmaid and never the Bride. They are also going to be in the Final against arguably the best team in Europe at the moment.

My view at the last Cup Final. In 2022. When we got beat. Again.

In short, they’re probably going to get a hiding. I expect them to get a hiding. They will get a hiding. But if you don’t have hope, what do you have?

So from Saturday morning when I board the train, to Monday evening when I return, I’ll be dealing with this highly probable outcome in the only way I know. I’ll be drinking copious amounts of alcohol.

So, no big run on the weekend. Instead, my week will look like this:

Monday – Core Strength (rest day)
Tuesday – Club Speed Session with 5 mile warm up
Wednesday – 6 mile easy
Thursday – 4 mile easy with 10 hill reps
Friday – 22 mile long run
Saturday – Drink heavily
Sunday – Drink heavily, watch Newcastle get stuffed, drink even heavier.

Elite athlete stuff, I think you’ll agree. Weather Klaxon – our mild weather was nothing but a tease. The temperature is due to drop a few degrees, and it’s going to rain most of the week. Fanfuckintastic.

Monday, we Yoga and we Weight train. I’m creaking but I’m ok. It looks like my left knee is going to grumble at me till the end of this process. As long as it stays as a grumble, it’s all good.

The weather has done as predicted. It’s noticeably colder, the wind is rolling off the sea and it’s bitter. I begrudgingly get the base layer out for Tuesday, but refuse to bring back the leggings. That’s accepting defeat.

It’s a Track session that evening, Broken Miles. The last few Tuesday warm ups have been shit, so I take up the offer of meeting three other guys from the Club who are Marathon training, to get them done together. This is just what I needed. The 5 miles fly by, as we chat shit like some sort of victim support group.

The Broken Miles session is a bit of a killer on paper. Then again, aren’t they all. It’s 1200m at 10k pace, 200 jog, 400m 5k pace, rest for 2 mins, then do it 3 more times. I’m tired just reading it.

However, this ends up being my best track session in weeks. I’m in a small group of 6 and we stay tight and at a good pace. By the end, myself and another of the Marathon guys I warmed up with are flying at the front. We both pass comment on this afterwards, that despite the tiredness and the intensity, our fitness and endurance levels have definitely gone up. It’s a great shot in the arm mentally that 8 weeks of graft seems be paying off.

On Tuesday evening, my wife asks if I’ve remembered that tomorrow night I promised to attend a meeting at the school about a trip my daughter is going on. ‘Oh yes, no problem’ I reply. Shit. I’d forgotten.

I don’t fancy running early on Wednesday, I’ll still be knackered from the night before. And by the time I get back from the school and get my shit together, it’ll be late. So the answer is, a lunchtime run.

The shit weather this week is now well and truly set in. The sea continues to shit in cold rain and hail with a strongish wind. Wednesday morning is biblical at times.

Lunchtime though, the clouds part and blue skies appear. It is still windy, and I don’t trust it as far as I can chuck it, so I go out ready for rain. But it doesn’t rain, and 3 miles in I’m feeling too hot. That’ll learn me.

I’m also very leggy. Once again though, I’m pushing through it. I’m tired, but there isn’t even a small part of me that thinks I’m going to stop. An ‘easy’ 6 miles completed.

I go to the meeting at the school in the evening, which is as you expect, but the funniest part is that they are banning mobile phones completely from the trip. I very much enjoy relaying this information to my teenage daughter when I get back. I’m such a bastard sometimes.

As I’m going long Friday, Thursday I’m dropping the Intervals. Can’t say I’m devastated. Instead, it’s 4 miles with the hill reps, and I’m going out first thing.

My luck runs out in regard to avoiding the crap weather. I get caught in a shower and, despite being layered up and wearing a beanie and gloves, I’m cold. It’s done though, and I’ve got 24 hours to rest before the 22 miler.

I’m expecting it to rain and not be the warmest Friday morning, but the winds are predicted to be quite light. ‘Gentle’ the BBC describes them as. This is good, as it’s the wind that is the real cause of the cold at the moment. The route I have planned also heads North along the coast for over 8 miles. I really, really don’t fancy running into a shite, cold head wind for that long.

The signs are good when I get up. The cat comes back in dry from his night of debauchery, so it isn’t raining. He’s usually my first weather barometer while I’m still half asleep and bereft of coffee.

It’s a totally different route to normal for my long runs, and I’ve got a little bit of trepidation about it. The first 8 and a half miles I’m basically killing miles – heading inland before dropping down to the coast. There is method to this madness.

As I’m running on a Friday morning, traffic will be much heavier than the weekend. The commute and schools basically. So my usual route is a no-no. The idea is to eat up miles 1-8 inland before it gets busy, then the last 14 miles (Jesus!) will be all along the coast, no roads to cross, nice and safe.

The first 8 go well. There is quite a bit of climb in this run, especially at the start, but I find hills quite easy when I haven’t got Club Coaches making me sprint up the bastards.

The key part of this run is the coast. If the weather is crap, this can be unforgiven. There is no shelter from the wind, rain, sun, or any elements this planet wants to chuck at you. You are completely exposed to all of them. Which is why I try to avoid it.

There is a slight northerly wind once I hit the coast, but it’s very bearable. It’s a little cold, but I’m not suffering in it. I head up the coast, through Cullercoats, Whitley Bay, Seaton Sluice, then through the Dune path to Blyth.

It’s quite nice going up the Dune path. When I first got into running, I used to drive here to run, because I was self conscious about running round my local neighbourhood. I feel a bit of nostalgia on this part, reminding me of how far I’ve come since the days of plodding round here trying to work up to 10k.

I reach the Bandstand at Blyth at mile 17 and turn. Whatever wind there is, it’s now behind me. About a mile later, I feel that wind suddenly get stronger, followed by a hail storm. Usually, at this point, I’d be shouting ‘FUCK MY LIFE’, but I’m feeling glass half full and am thankful it held off till I’d turned. Running into it would have been soul destroying.

Mile 19-20 we have to climb, but it’s a climb I’ve done countless times before. I’m actually feeling quite strong, and I up the pace. Once I get up the hill and hit mile 20, I know I’m going to finish.

My mile 21 is an 8:56, which was probably stupid when I look back. I drop onto the Prom for the final mile and tiredness is setting in a bit, but I don’t feel wrecked or like I want to stop. My final mile is a 9:06, again too fast, and I end on 22.2 miles in 3:30:20.

I’m delighted. I’m also not completely spent. Could I do another 3.8 mile? I think I probably could. The training is paying off, and this is allegedly the longest run I will have to do as part of the training. Although there are still 20 and 21 mile runs pencilled in the plan over the next couple of weeks.

Job done, and now for 3 days ‘rest’. I’m posting this early on the Friday evening, before I head to London and forget about the running till Tuesday.

Did Newcastle win the Cup Final? Find out in next week’s blog. Or Google it. The answer is probably no though.

Mood: Resigned

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 8

March 9, 2025 notbuilttorunmarathon, Running, RunningBlogLeave a comment

“Michael Jackson didn’t come over to my house to use the bathroom. But his sister did!”

Chunk – The Goonies

Wooooh, we’re half way there! Wooooh-oooooh, I hate fucking Bon Jovi! No, as I tell my teenage daughter, hate is a strong word. You should never ‘hate’ anything. Except Bon Jovi. They are shite. Whoops, there go the Bon Jovi fans. Flouncing off with the Vegan Runners I imagine.

I jest, I’m a lover not a fighter. Come back. I’m married to a Vegetarian. It’s bantz. The point I’m making, and there is one I promise, is that we’re in Week 8. The halfway point. And I feel..ok. It’s been as hard as I was warned, but I don’t feel as broken as I thought I might.

The week also starts quite well. My daughter gets into the school she and we wanted her to get into, which is fantastic, as I didn’t fancy starting the day having to console a teenager. I also discover that I’ve misread the Plan this week, and that I don’t have to do another 20 miler at the weekend. I only have to do 19. Great.

That bombshell aside, in the evening I do my usual Yoga and Weights sessions, feeling strong, with seemingly no ill effects from the weekend.

Boring weather klaxon! Spring seems to have sprung, with all week set to be dry, sunny, and sitting at 10c during the days. Pass me the sunscreen and my mankini.

Tuesday is the club Grand Prix. I’m unsure how fast my legs will allow me to go for this one, but I do know one thing for certain – after my cluster fuck in the last one, I’ll be tying my shoelaces tighter than a knot in Madam Helga’s House of Pain. So I’ve heard.

The Grand Prix course is about 3.5 miles, so the plan is 5 miles easy warm up, race like the wind, cool down easy 1.5 miles back home. Up until the day, I have no idea what my handicap is for this one. I’m expecting it to be more favourable than last time out. Due to being a tool who can’t tie shoelaces, I lost time and places.

In the end, it’s 15:30, which gives me 2 minutes back on my last one. There are also less beasts in my group, but still lots of fast bastards. The 5 mile warm up is, yet again, a tired and ploddy ballache.

I don’t actually fancy this run. I say that every time I do the Grand Prix, but this time I have a feeling. Due to roadworks the course is changing – two laps of the Prom basically – and I dislike (as hate is a strong word, remember) laps.

The new and slightly rude looking GP course

I get away quick enough, a couple of my group fly off, but I leave the rest behind. This is as good as it gets however. All the fast people who would probably catch me anyway, seem to catch me really early. Also, I don’t seem to be overtaking anyone. At all.

This continues for the rest of the race. It feels like EVERYONE passes me. I think by the end, I might go past half a dozen people at best. I’m off the clock as I’ve just continued on with my 5 mile warm up on my watch, but afterwards Strava credits me with a 23:20 5k. That’s 47 seconds slower than my PB I set only 3 months ago.

That’s to be expected though. I’m tired. I’m knackered. I’m fucked. I slowed down in the last Grand Prix in February, where I did a 23:16 5k. I really don’t have too much of a problem with it, this time last year I would have killed for a sub 24 min 5k, so to still be hitting them with Marathon legs is nothing to be sniffed at.

However, my Strava is alight with PBs and quick times galore from fellow club runners who claim the change in course made it ideal for fast running. So under normal circumstances, this may have been a great chance for potentially ducking under 23 mins.

Ah well, tough shit.

Never mind. At least my Handicap should be better next time out. Glass half full and all that. On to Wednesday!

Wednesday is also quite an important day at work this week. I’ve been working on a Project since just before Christmas, and will be delivering a presentation on it at lunch time. That in itself has been a Marathon, so I don’t want to fuck it up.

In the end…it goes really well. And it truly is a metaphor for the Marathon. I immersed myself in it, put in all the graft, then when it came to the actual event, I nailed it. Deep and philosophical, or potentially nonsensical bollocks. You decide.

I don’t realise until I head out for my 6 mile easy that evening, but my legs are shot. My knees are sore, my legs are really tired, I am fucked. Who’s a clever shite for running a 23:20 5k now, eh dipshit?

It’s an absolute slog. No autopilot this week. It’s parachuted with the drinks trolley. Afterwards, my feet are so tired, they’re vibrating. Can’t wait for Intervals tomorrow. Should be a hoot!

There is some good news about Thursdays intervals though. I hadn’t read the details, other than that it was 4×2 miles. So I hadn’t realised that, instead of the usual Threshold pace, these need to be completed at Marathon pace. So, much gentler. Get in!

Slight problem here though. I still don’t know what my Marathon pace is. It’s anywhere between 9 to 9:40 min miles. That’s quite a range. I decide to aim for 9 min. That feels like it would be productive, without breaking me. And it will be over quicker.

This goes..really well. Maybe it’s the relief from thinking it was going to have to be quicker. I also mix it up much more than before on the route. First few Intervals on the Sainsburys Loop, then the next one round the local estate, then the last one down on the Prom. It comes to just over 10 miles in total, and I feel quite good when I finish.

I’m going to do an Easy 4 with Hill Reps on the Friday evening, rest on Saturday, long run Sunday morning.

The Easy 4 I’m also going to mix up. I head out on the Metro to Tynemouth as my starting point. I’m not being a lazy shit though. It’s only 3 Stations away, but running to it would make this over a 6 mile run, which is too long.

My hill reps are going to be on a proper hill tonight, the one that runs beside the abandoned Priory. 1300 years ago, this was a defensive structure put in by the Monks to keep the Vikings out. Sadly, it didn’t work, and they were all slaughtered. Just like those Vikings, I’m flying up this tonight. Less violently, granted. I feel great actually. Too good even.

Hills completed, I have a nice steady easy plod back along the sea front to home. I don’t feel tired, I don’t feel like I’m on autopilot, I feel comfortable. I’m in a good place before a decent rest day tomorrow and big run Sunday.

Sunday isn’t exactly going to be tropical, but between 6am-9am (when I’ll be out) it will be dry, sunny, calm, and a pleasant 7 degrees. Therefore, I’ll be ditching the base layer and the gloves.

The 19 miles is basically the 20 miler I did last week, but with the head of the snake cut off. As in, I’ll be knocking the mile off by missing out the sea front at the start.

Having now completed 18 miles (twice) and a 20 miler, 19 doesn’t give me ‘the fear’ it might have done 2 months ago. However, I also know it would be pretty stupid/naive of me to think I can just pop out for a 19 mile run and it be a piece of piss.

The mindset must be to respect the distance, keep doing all the good things around preparation, fuelling and so on. That’s how I approach Sunday. I’d be an idiot or an arrogant prick to think anything otherwise.

True to my word, I’m out the door for 6:30am, gels and jelly babies stuffed in my rather dashing man belt.

Remember earlier when I say it was going to be dry and sunny? Well, I step outside into thick fog everywhere. It’s one of the ‘perks’ of living by the coast. We get this soup that rolls in off the sea. Personally, I love running when we have fog. Especially when we get the summer sea fret type. It cools things down, and it also means there is no wind. However, it does mean it’s colder than I thought, but I stubbornly refuse to wear the layers and the gloves.

The first 5-6 miles are a bit leggy. Not sure why. But again, I never reach the point of feeling completely knackered or wanting to stop. The training weeks are doing their job.

Even though I run inland, the fog never lifts, staying fairly thick. At mile 9, I suddenly feel like I’ve run myself into it, and the next 10 miles I up the pace slightly. I remember in Murakami’s book, he talks about how he’s a slow starter. How he just can’t get going for the first few miles, then suddenly it just clicks. Kindred souls we are.

In the end, I complete 19.28 miles in 3:00:52, at an average pace of 9:23. That’s the same pace as the 20 miler last week. Have I finally found my Marathon pace? Maybe.

It’s another morale boosting week, with a productive long run to end it on. Next week we’re heading into the realms of the unknown yet again, the 22 mile zone. It’s also going to be my first ‘life gets in the way’ week, where I’ll be moving the plan about a bit.

Still, we’ll be past the half way point now, another milestone passed. We’ve got this.

Mood: Hanging in there.

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 7

March 1, 2025 notbuilttorunmarathon, Running, RunningBlogLeave a comment

“I feel like I’m babysitting, except I’m not getting paid”

Stef – The Goonies

So, week 7 here we go. Strap in, as we hit the toughest week so far. Shit is about to get very real. If all goes to plan, this will be my first 50+ milage week, which includes my first foray into 20 mile territory.

Boring runners weather update, but the pocket of Spring like temperatures was but a short tease. They are due to drop, not horrendously, but enough to maybe put the base layer back on. Bastard.

Monday is, as always, rest day, other than my longer Yoga class and my Weights session. Physically, I’ve woken up feeling alright. I do start to feel my knee a tiny bit during Yoga, that continues into the Weights, but it doesn’t seem to be getting worse. So that’s a win.

Tuesday though I do feel a bit leggy. I head out for my 5 mile warm up and it’s the stiffest and most tired I’ve felt on this Tuesday run so far. It doesn’t bode well, as tonight’s Track session is one of my least favourite – Kicking 600s. I feel the burn on this one every time we do it, so adding a long warm up doesn’t fill me with much confidence.

I do the extra social 1 mile warm up at the clubhouse and chat to another guy who is doing the Manchester Marathon, so is a week ahead of me on the Training Plan. We share war stories and it’s good to know that his experience is similar to mine. First time at the distance, bored of the cold, enjoyed the mild weather over the weekend etc. Like me, he’s just quietly getting on with it. Or he might be bitching about it on his Blog. Who knows.

Kicking 600s itself is a fairly simple session. Do 600m at 10k pace, take a min static rest. Then it’s 500m at 10k, 100 fast, rest. 400m at 10k, 200m fast, rest, and so on, all the way up to 600m fast.

The good thing about all that, is it means this is a quick session. Only around 2.6 miles in total, and over before you know it. Despite the lethargy, this goes ok. I’m proper knackered at the end, but 9 miles in total with a speed session done.

Wednesday is 6 miles easy and I’ve now got used to this run being ploddy and autopilot mode. However, I notice this week that later on that night my legs are tired. More tired than they’ve felt so far. I wake up in the night and notice this too. They feel like when you’ve been on your feet all day, and you finally get to rest then. It took 7 weeks, but it looks like physical fatigue has joined the party.

If I think I’m tired on Wednesday, then hello Thursday! It’s Intervals night and this one is an absolute bastard. 5 x 2 miles. Am I training for a Marathon or the SAS. I struggle to motivate myself for this one. Like, really struggle. My wife gives me a pep talk ‘hurry up, I want my tea’ and I pop out.

I’m going to mix it up a bit this week and start off somewhere different. We have a 1k loop we do as a Club night, it’s called the ‘Sainsbury’s Loop’ because, and this is genius, it’s next to the local Sainsbury’s Supermarket. It’s called the Loop because, well, take a look.

It’s a Loop. Next to Sainsbury’s. Get it?

This session starts well enough, but each Interval is going to be 3 and bit loops, so it gets quite repetitive quite quickly. I can’t face doing the last rep round here, so dive off into the estate next to it. It was either that or throw myself into the path of a passing car, just to relieve the boredom.

All in all this session comes in just under 13 miles. 13 fucking miles. That’s a half marathon. Suffice to say, I am absolutely knackered when I get back in. It’s done though. Off it fucks.

Friday morning I drag myself up for the 4 Easy and hill reps. Again, I’m going to mix this up a bit. Rather than doing the hill reps at the end down by the sea front, I’m going to get them out the way early in the Quarry. The Quarry is a disused Victorian Quarry round the corner from me that is now a park. The ‘hill’ is one of the paths to get in and out of it. Not as dramatic or steep as the one on the sea front, granted. Which is nice.

It’s another autopilot run. The legs are doing their thing, running tired, but still running and getting through. That night, I’m off to a gig. I go and see Max Cooper. What, you don’t know who Max Cooper is? Here he is. He’s fucking awesome.

I decide two things. I’m not going to have a drink, and I persuade my brother (whom I’m going with) to go to an All-You-Can-Eat Indian Buffett before the gig. I demolish several plates of chicken and rice while mumbling ‘Carb loading’ to him between chews.

What goes up, must come down. Or what goes to bed late, must get up early. I’m going to do this week’s long run once again on the Saturday, as I’m off to the match, once again, on the Sunday.

And this weekends long run is a biggy. It’s 20 miles. Last Saturday, I felt massively confident about this run. As the week has gone on, less so. I’m up and out again for 6:20am and, for the first time in the 7 weeks so far, this feels a bit leggy from the start.

Of all the long runs, this is the shittest one to feel a bit tired on. 2 miles in, I’m definitely aware that the old legs are heavy. Great, just the 18 more to go.

I continue on and, whilst I’m not struggling, it feels like more of an effort than usual. However, clever shite alert, this is why I’m doing the same route every week with slight modifications to add on more miles. The idea is that muscle memory will get me through. And I think it does.

I’ve definitely cracked this fuelling thing though. I think. Gel before I go out, then every 5 miles, with Jelly Babies between them. My stomach doesn’t complain, with no sign of the dreaded runners trots.

The first 10 miles are as you were, but then I carry on onto Chilli Road. I’m so close to Newcastle City Centre I can smell it. Or maybe it’s me that smells. Probably me.

The final 9 miles are heading back in the direction of home. I find miles 13-15 the shittest bit. It’s a very bland part of the run, and I know there is a bit of a short climb that can be a pain in the arse at the best of times.

Once I’m on the Wagonway at 15 miles, I feel confident I’m going to do the 20. It has been harder and leggier than usual, but I’m not struggling or suffering. I’m munching on the remainder of my Jelly Babies for the run in. I accidentally drop my last one at mile 19 and I’m devastated. It was one of those Yellow ones as well.

Still, I hit 20 miles in 3:07:45, continuing on for another 0.29 miles to finish in my street. 3:10:23 in total. No stopping, a continuous run. It’s a triumph. I get the bonus of a 30k PB, which wasn’t hard to do, as I’ve never run 30k before.

Just like the 18 miler a few weeks back, I’m delighted to hit the distance, but it probably won’t sink in for a couple of days. Two things I do know though – I can run 77% of a Marathon, and my sub 4:15 is on.

I’ve now just got to motivate myself to do the whole thing again next weekend. Can’t wait.

Week 7 is dedicated to the Yellow Jelly Baby. I’m sorry I left you behind mate. RIP

Mood: Horizontal

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 6

February 24, 2025March 1, 2025 notbuilttorunmarathon, Running, RunningBlog2 Comments

“I never felt so bad in my entire life”

Chunk – The Goonies

After my 18 mile ‘heroics’ on the Sunday, I am feeling it on the Monday. The dodgy left knee is a bit sore, but so also is my right hamstring.

I did feel both on the Sunday evening, so got out the foam roller and swore loudly as it did the devils work on my tender hamstring muscle. Let’s hope the toddler next door was asleep, or he’ll be asking his parents some awkward questions in the morning.

Thank the Lord therefore that Monday is a rest day. Well, apart from the 30 minute Yoga and the 30 minute Weights session. But no running, that’s a rest.

This wouldn’t be one of my Marathon posts if I didn’t have a weather update. And, well, it’s looking positive for once. As we head into March, we might have turned a corner. By Thursday, the temp will be double figures. Tropical I tell thee.

This weeks long run (just the 16 miles this week) I’ll be doing on Saturday, and potentially it will be 9 degrees when I get out. It might be time to start thinking about dropping the base layer. Hopefully the crap is finally behind us. Jinx. It’s a nice boost going into the week anyway.

Monday morning I enter a race. In fact, I’ve entered two in the last few days. The Blaydon Race in June, and the Cookson at the end of May. The Cookson is only about 3 weeks after the Marathon. It’s a 10k race organised by my running club and it basically two laps of a hill twice. Look, it seems like a good idea now so it’ll be fine.

Yoga is great, lots of stretches which I like, but the Weights session is hard going on the knee. Maybe I should have given it a miss, but it’s done and nothing that Ibuprofen can’t solve. I get the feeling that Ibuprofen may become my friend in the next few weeks, although I’m very aware that you should never take them before a run. I’m sure Paula Radcliffe taught me that. Or was it my Mam. Doesn’t matter.

It feels like on Tuesday morning that, despite what The Verve claim, the drugs do indeed work. My knee and hamstring both feel better. Which is just as well, as it’s the Club Speed night. Tonight’s session is an oldy but a goody – Domebusters. 8 laps round The Spanish City Dome down the sea front – hence the name. For complete transparency, here is a photo I took of it. See, it’s a Dome.

Who speaks French and is great at taking photos? MOI

It’s a not a long session. Well, unless you’re a spanner who signed up for a Marathon and you have to do a 5 mile warm up before hand. The Tuesday warm up is again the crappest run of the week. Shaking off the rust of the weekend big run, so it always feels a bit stiff and leggy, I also do it without my bone conductors, as I don’t want to take them to the club, so there’s no 90s dance to kick my arse into gear.

I finish at the Club House so I can join the social group warm up down to the sea front. This is a good time of year to do Domebusters. In the Sunmer evenings, there are a lot day trippers down here, it can get quite packed, and it’s fair to say groups of us flying round at pace pisses these people right off. The Club gets lots of angry emails. No really. In the Winter though, not a friggin soul down here.

I get into a group of 8 and the pace is fast. In fact, the first four laps seem really fast. I can’t decide if it’s because a) they are fast b) my legs are tired c) I’ve actually forgotten how to run fast.

In the middle of lap 5, I have a Phoenix from the Flames moment and suddenly find my extra gear. I’ve flicked a switch somewhere, and I finish the final 4 laps strong and fast. Proper endorphin releasing stuff. A cool down jog home, and a quite satisfying 9 miles for the evening. After a shower and something to eat though I hit a wall and feel absolutely fucked. I drag myself to bed and within 5 minutes am fast asleep having drifted into a runners coma.

Wednesday morning and my legs are tired. However, it’s a ‘good’ tired. Like how my legs would feel the morning after a speed session at the club. The key is, they’re not sore.

I go out for my easy 6 mile recovery run in the evening and it’s leggy but ok. It’s almost like I run it on autopilot. I drop down onto the sea front for half of it and it’s cold and windy down there again. I have the massive urge to shout ‘JUST FUCK OFF MAN AND GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK’ but realise that people have been sectioned for less. When I finish I’m leggy but alright. Like I say, very much an autopilot run.

It’s Intervals Thursday once again and, frankly, these can’t be as shit as last weeks. On the plus side, weather wanker alert, we’ve got a micro front of mild stuff hitting us. At last, hallelujah, thank the Lord, Buddha, Yoda, and whoever else you can think of. It’s a balmy 11 degrees – double figures! – when I head out. I’m as happy as a pig in shit.

The session is the same as last week, except I think I’m supposed to mix the pace up. To be honest, as I do jog recoveries rather than static ones, I’m just going to do what I did last week. Except less shitter.

The residents of Red House Farm Estate, where I always do these, must be proper sick of me now, looping their quiet estate multiple times as they try to enjoy Emmerdale. It’s been 6 weeks now, so I assume we’ve reached a point where I’m being mentioned in the Neighbourhood Watch minutes.

I decide to channel my inner Luke Skywalker and turn off my tech and go with my gut tonight. Everyone on the Marathon WhatsApp group keeps saying the Thursday session is hard, that they’re pushing themselves, and it’s the one they hate. I’ve had the opposite – I get frustrated that I have to keep slowing down to keep my HR down. So tonight, I’m going to ignore Pace and HR and just run at what I think is pushing it.

I concentrate on my music, go harder for the 2 milers, very easy for the 2 min recoveries. I hate it less, I’m not as frustrated, and I only slip into Max for 11 minutes. That’s not bad.

It’s 4 miles easy Friday morning, and just like Wednesday, it’s very much autopilot for the legs. I’m starting to think this is a good thing. It’s already light when I get out, and it’s mild. The run and the hill reps are almost enjoyable. Almost.

In the evening, my early night ready for my long run tomorrow won’t happen. My wife and daughter are hanging out with friends and I’ll need to pick them up. In the end, we don’t get back in until after midnight. I’m not really bothered though, they are making sacrifices for me while I train, I can make some for them. It’s not all about me. I have to work around stuff, and to be fair to both of them, they’ve been brilliant with it so far.

I’m up at 5:45am and feel surprisingly pucka. I’m buoyed by the fact that it’s definitely getting lighter in the mornings. It’s also 9 degrees out there with only a light and mild wind.

Dropping onto the sea front, in mild weather, no wind, natural light. and only having to wear one layer, is glorious. I’ve had 6 weeks of long runs in the cold and dark. Honestly, I could cry. If I wasn’t male and northern.

This is a good day to execute a plan. I’m going to start slow and steady, and see if I can increase the pace as I go on. I’m also going to build on Thursday and ignore my HR. Suck it and see I think they call it.

And execute it I do. I keep at around 9:30 pace until about mile 9, when I just increase it slightly. By mile 15 and 16, I end up running sub 9 minutes. More importantly, my HR never goes into Max.

For the first time since I started the Marathon plan, I really enjoy a long run. I haven’t hated the other 5, just not ‘loved’ them. At mile 13 I’m on the Wagonway, the sun is shining through the trees, silence other than the birds singing, and I have a dose of running endorphins. Cue Elgar.

Its been a good week, a real contrast from Week 5, where the first niggles and both physical and mental fatigue were creeping in. Push through it, and I have. Week 7 is a big week though, ending with a 20 miler. Hold on to your butts.

Mood: Warm

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 5

February 16, 2025 notbuilttorunmarathon, Runner, Running, trainingLeave a comment

“Always Separate the drugs”

Mouth – The Goonies

The second week of February. That’s almost Spring. It’s not, but by Christ I wish it was. A quick check of the weather this week throws up the same old same old. Cold and wet.

The weekend, especially the Sunday, we have Sleet forecast. Fucking Sleet. That’s not even proper weather. So I’m already scratching my chin and playing a game of ip-dip-dogs-shit with whether I do my 18 miler on Saturday or Sunday. I’ll decide nearer the time. As long as we don’t get another of those Storms with shit names. Jinx.

Monday morning and the knees are a bit stiff, but no lasting effects from yesterday, which is a good sign. It’s a long Yoga and then Weights day, and both I think go well. The Yoga tonight is my kind of session – sun salutations and stretching. Continuing on from last week, the Weights session is also positive.

It might just be muscle memory or just knowing the routine, but there’s no doubt I’m getting into the routine of it now and feeling stronger.

Whilst the symptoms of my cold have gone, other than a slight sniffle, I’m currently in that ‘Cold Hangover’ stage. Does anyone else get these? I find, certainly post pandemic, that I might get a cold for 5 days, but then for a week after that I feel like shite. Not awful, just like I’m working off 70%.

That’s how I feel on Tuesday. The good thing about today is that it’s a Track speed session at the club, and it’s also fairly short – 10 x 400m Reducers. So, run a lap, rest for 60 seconds. Do another one, rest for 55 seconds, and so on.

As it’s short, my warm up will be slightly longer. I head out for 5 miles, finishing at the Track, then a mile with the group. It’s a tired 5 mile I’ll be honest. I’m also feeling my left knee a bit, my first niggle since my old grumbling Achilles injury popped up a couple of weeks ago.

Just like the previous weeks, once I start the speed session, I feel a lot better. Like I wake up. I complete the set at a fairly decent pace, followed by a couple of cool down laps. 9 and a bit miles for the evening, that’ll do.

Wednesday evening I’m off out for a curry and a couple of pints, so I’m up early for my 6 easy miles. As expected, the legs are a bit heavy after last night, but I feel like my body is learning to run tired, which hopefully means the training is taking effect. The weather, again, is a bit miserable. There’s no let up in that cold wind coming in from the sea, but I’m trying to be glass half full about it. At least we don’t have any Storms and ice. That’s another jinx.

Thursdays Intervals session is going to be a little longer than the last few weeks. 4×2 miles Intervals, with 2 minutes recovery jogs in between, then a short cool down home. So, about 10 miles in total.

I get out on my 10 min warm up and notice already that my heart rate is a little high for a slow jog. Not a good sign. Once I start the actual Intervals, it goes proper tits up and stays that way the whole session.

My HR is very high threshold and keeps tripping over to max, meaning I have to keep the pace slow, really slowing down when it goes max to get it back on track. Since I started training 5 weeks ago, this is definitely the shittest run I’ve done. Not shit in that I feel tired or in pain, I feel great, but frustrating shit. Why do I have a high HR when I feel fine and this isn’t that taxing a session. Fucks sake.

When I get back I’m grumpy, but soon get over it. It’s just one of those things. Ultimately, I felt good, and even though my pace was probably too slow, I stuck with Threshold and did it properly. Park it and crack on.

I haven’t got long to sulk over it. Friday morning I’m up early for my easy 4 miles with hill reps. There is definitely something going on with my left knee. I’m not in pain or anything, I’ve just got a ‘sensation’ in it. Difficult to say really. Enough for me to decide early into this run that I’ll take my rest day tomorrow.

At least when I get down to the sea front for my hill reps it’s finally calm. First day of no wind in what feels like forever. My hill reps are a bit leggy, but it’s a nice run, other than my paranoia about my knee.

A check of the weekend weather shows that whilst Saturday is going to be cold and icy early doors, Sunday isn’t. That works out quite well, gives me an excuse to rest the knee for 48 hours before having a crack at 18 miles early Sunday.

Being wary of my knee and its weird sensation, I top up my Travel card on Saturday. My route never takes me too far from a Metro station, so if the worst should happen, I can limp to one of those and get home. I know this sounds pessimistic, but disaster recovery and all that. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

I’m very philosophical about getting injured during this process. Whilst I’d be gutted, it was always a risk for a 45 year old with knees that have taken so much stick over the years. I did wonder how the old injuries would hold up. To be fair, I’ve covered 30 miles in 4 days, 2 of those days were 10 milers. Bits of my body have every right to complain. Guess we’ll find out Sunday anyway.

Saturday I do something very rare for me – I have a lie in. I say lie in, I just don’t set my alarm to get up early, much to the relief of my wife. As our daughter is a teenager now, we are truly blessed that we don’t have to get up early at a weekend. In fact, it’s usually me that’s up much earlier than the other two, crashing about. I’m like the toddler of the house.

The weather also is not as bad as they predicted. Tomorrow morning will now be dull, a bit cold (4 degrees) with light rain and a gentle breeze. I will take that all day.

So, onto Sunday. I’m up and out by 6:30am again. I’m getting used to this now, and I ‘d rather just get out before I think about it too much. This will be the longest run I’ve ever done – in distance and in time. This is 18 miles at a slow pace, so if it all goes to plan I could be on my feet for 2 hours 55 or thereabouts.

It’s the same route as my 16 miler with a slight modification. I’m going to drop on the sea front at the start a bit later than usual, cos I’m a bit bored of it. The other change will be that I turn slightly later, then rejoin my usual route home. That will add on the extra 2 miles. Sounds simple.

My knee is…ok. I am shitting myself about it a bit. Once I start though, it’s fine. Like there is nothing wrong. No twinges, no pain. I set out at a leisurely pace and, as every fucking week, when I hit the coast there’s wind and rain coming off the sea. Course there is.

Thankfully, as predicted, once I turn inland it all stops and we’re calmer. It’s also not as cold as previous weeks. Hopefully a sign of things to come as we creep towards Spring.

The rest of the run goes well, this is a nice comfortable pace and I never feel uncomfortable. This is also a nice recce for fuelling. I’m taking on Gels now at the points I plan to during the Marathon, as well as munching on some Jelly Babies. I’m not a fan of Hydration Vests, instead favouring what we used to call as kids a ‘Bum Bag.’

This sits nicely round my waist, doesn’t weigh me down, and I’ll able to fit in all of my Gels and Jelly Babies. I love it when a plan comes together.

I do feel a bit meh at around 11-12 miles, but I think this is probably just temporary boredom. I’m cutting through a plain estate (sorry locals!) before joining the Wagonway. Once I’m on that, my mojo returns.

My last 5 miles though are a bit quicker, and I finish feeling pretty good having done 18.29 miles in a time of 2:56:45. Bang on what I wanted at a comfortable 9:39 pace.

I am tired when I get in, but I’ve just run 18 miles so I’d be shocked if I wasn’t. Another milestone hit, another big boost physically and mentally. Next week’s long run is to be a faster 16 miler. I’m tempted to have a go at doing that at low 9 minute pace. I’m feeling confident that I could, but don’t want to get overconfident and fuck up all the good work I’ve done so far. See how I feel at the end of the week.

Not a bad week. The knee is still something I need to keep an eye on, but if I can get through the next 3 weeks unscathed, the Marathon goal will be within grasp.

Mood: Cautious

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 4

February 9, 2025February 10, 2025 notbuilttorunmarathon, Running, training1 Comment

“Bring me four Fried Chickens and a Coke”

Jake Blues, The Blues Brothers

Week 4, we’ve reached the Quarter point. Is the Quarter point a thing? This will be the end of my first 4 week ‘Block’ anyway.

After switching my long run to Saturday in Week 3, Sunday became a rest day, other than a bit of gentle stretching yoga. Therefore on Monday there is no stiffness or anything niggly.

My long Yoga session is far less ‘ouch ya fucker’ than last week. My weights session also goes really well. In fact, this was the first week of weights where I felt like I was both into it and finding it a little more comfortable. I’ve been doing it twice a week since the end of December now, so maybe the first signs of progress. Maybe.

When I wake up Tuesday though, I feel a bit meh. Like I might be at the very start of getting a cold, which would be a massive pain in the arse.

I’m also a little stiff and sore in the legs, even though I haven’t run for nigh on 72 hours. I find this happens to me a lot. The more rest I get between runs, the stiffer I get. Weird. I do some stretching Yoga in the morning in the hope I can shake some of it out.

Tonight is a Club Grand Prix night. I’ve mentioned the Grand Prix before, but in a nutshell, once a month from September to March we race a 3.4m course against each other. It’s all Handicapped depending on performance, that handicap changed every month dependent of how quick or slow you ran the last one, and we compete in Teams of 8. It’s a bit of fun really, although some people take it far too seriously. I’ve seen grown men literally push women out the way as they hurtle for the line. Arseholes.

I’ve had a cracking GP so far this season. I’m on a 3 race PB streak, although I’m under no illusions that it will end tonight. I’ve no problem with that, but it will be interesting to see how much running slow and long for nearly a month will affect my 5k speed.

The longer the day goes on however, the crapper I feel. At least my new running gloves arrive today. My old ones have served me well, I reckon I’ve had them a decade, but they’re no longer doing the job. I was diagnosed with Raynaud’s a couple of years back. As such, my hands suffer badly in the cold. And I’m bored shitless of it.

I have to get in a 5 mile warm up beforehand, to make sure I hit the 8-10 for the day. There’s a bit of a cold wind, so my new gloves get a test, and they definitely make a difference.

Warm up complete, I’m at the start. Due to the aforementioned good streak I’m having, my handicap start time is a stinking 17mins 50secs. I look at the list of others who’ll be starting with me, and there are some absolute beasts in there.

I’m not going to time my race tonight. I’m just going to restart my 5 mile run. That way I’m not looking at my time or pace, so I’ll hopefully just listen to my body rather than try to fly round it too fast like a tit.

Once we start, predictably, the rest of my group shoot off. It’s what I expected, so I’m not bothered. I am surprised by how comfortable running at a faster pace is though.

I turn at the halfway point and this is going quite well. Then I notice my left shoelace has come undone. What an absolute melt. I’ve only been tying my laces since I was a child, but tonight’s the night I choose to lose that basic life skill.

I keep going, but the sensible decision is to stop and tie them. Stuff my time and position. The finish line is usually a shit show anyway, without me sending either myself or other runners flying.

I find a spot out of the way on the Prom with about a quarter of a mile left and attempt to tie them. Runners are flying past me, and the more places I know I’m losing, the more I fiddle with my laces like a toddler who’s never done this before.

I tie them, take a look to make sure I’m not jumping back on in front of anyone, then resume. I notice that some of the runners I’m gaining on I’ve already passed earlier before shoelacegate, but it’s too late to catch them, I’ve run out of real estate. Mother fucker!

I find out later that I’ve just run a 23:16 5k, my 3rd fastest ever, and finish in 25:50, only 40 odd seconds down on my course record. Damn you shoelace! I finish about 50 places down as well. Double Damn you shoelace!

Wednesday will be an enforced rest day. Although, there’s nothing restful about it. I’m up early on the first train to Edinburgh to meet with my boss for a catch up. I’ll be back later that same day, then off to the match. So, absolutely no time for a run. Anyway, it was quite a nice day in Edinburgh, weather wise. I even cut round the back of the castle on the way into the office and took some arty photos..

As the day goes on, I can feel my cold creeping on and getting worse. That evening, like the athlete I am, I sink many pints in the pub before and after watching Newcastle win and get to the League Cup Final. More on that in the weeks to come, as that is massively going to fuck up one of my weekend long runs.

Thursday I wake up feeling shite. Yes, some of it is down to those pints I consumed, but also my cold is now very much bedded in.

Its intervals day, although not as long as the previous weeks. Today I need to do 6 x 1km Intervals. Usual drill, 10 min warm up to the local estate, do the loops. Big difference this week? It’s hard work. I feel quite weak, a mixture of the cold and probably a slight hangover. I get them done, stick to my thresholds, but the struggle is real.

Friday is my birthday. Happy Birthday to me. I reward myself by doing 4 easy miles with hill reps. I used to be cool. I wake up feeling even more shitter than yesterday and the can’t be arsedness is pretty high.

It doesn’t really get any better once I’m out there. The thought of doing those hill reps really doesn’t appeal to me. When I get to the hill though, it’s actually ok. If anything, they actually snap me out of the meh. There’s a bit of a wind coming off the sea though, so I’m actually quite glad when I finish. I end my Birthday with a family curry and still with a wankful head cold.

We’re back to normal training timetable this weekend. So a short threshold on the Saturday, with a long run on the Sunday. I also receive my next training block of 4 weeks. Shit is about to get real this next few weeks. An 18 miler followed by another 16 miles and then two lots of 20 milers. I’m tired just reading it.

For the first time in forever, I struggle to motivate myself to get out Saturday. I still have a manky cold, there’s a chilly wind coming off the sea, and the thought of getting out to run 3-4 miles at a slightly faster pace isn’t appealing.

I give myself a mental slap and get out the door. Once I’m out, it’s actually all right. Tis always the case. Now I just need to psyche myself up for the 16 miler tomorrow.

This will be the same route as last week, with a little tweak at the 9 mile point, because I can’t be arsed to climb out of Wallsend Burn. So I’m going to run over the top of it instead. A bridge over the top of it. I’m not a Marvel character.

Up early Sunday and it’s grim. Just on the positive though, my cold has miraculously almost disappeared. It’s a recovery of biblical miracle proportions. Whilst I’m feeling better, it still doesn’t change the fact the weather is shite.

First 3.5 miles again are all on the sea front. The sea is rough and noisy, which is always a sign the weather is shite down here. The wind isn’t really that strong, but constant and enough to lash cold rain onto me. I’m staying positive though. Someone told me you have to remember these runs when you get to the start line. The early, cold, wet, dark, mornings when you’ve got out and done it. Bottle them, you might need to go back to that mental reassurance at mile 1, 10, or 22 of the Marathon.

I cut inland and just like last week it’s a relief to be out of the weather. Well, at least the worst of it. The Plan this week has me at this point forward doing 3 mile at Marathon Pace, followed by one mile at easy pace, 3 times. I have a go at this, but the problem is I’m not 100% what my Marathon pace is going to be yet. Yes, I know.

I do have a good go at this anyway, and actually feel pretty good. Another bonus is that at mile 11, where my heart rate suddenly jumped last week, stays in threshold. It stays like this all the way home. I never go into max at all for the whole 16.

I change my route slightly at the end as well. I have my Marathon trainers on, and my original route home through the fields will be a quagmire. I don’t want to get them muddy or wet, so I dive off the Wagonway early and through the streets where I grew up instead.

There is something quite poignant about plodding through my childhood neighbourhood. 15 year old me would never have believed that 30 years later he’d be running past his old bedroom at 14 miles.

I feel so good that my last two miles are my fastest. This despite the fact we’re heading back easterly to the coast and that bastard head wind has returned. It’s probably not what I should be doing, the last two are supposed to be more of a cool down, but I feel good and my HR indicates I’m comfortable, so sod it. It ends up being 16.3 miles in 2 hours 35 mins. Slightly faster than last week. Lovely.

I don’t like out and backs, can you tell?

Just like last week, I’m really happy with getting through another 16 miler, fairly comfortably, at a pace that is on or around Marathon pace. Even though I haven’t really figured out what that is yet.

I probably should.

Bring on Week 5!

Mood: Bored of the weather

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 3

February 2, 2025 notbuilttorunmarathon, Running, trainingLeave a comment

“Who wants an Orange Whip? Orange Whip? Orange Whip? Three Orange Whips!”

Burton Mercer, The Blues Brothers

WEEK 3: JAN 27TH – FEB 2ND

It’s week 3 already, and I feel like I’m into the routine of this now. I haven’t yet hit the ‘ah shit, kill me now’ phase, which will inevitably rear its head at some point.

Everything this week will be the same but different. Same routine, different distances. I’m also pondering changing my big run to early Saturday, instead of Sunday. I’m 80% certain I will at this point, but I’ve got a few days to make my mind up. Or change it several times.

Monday, I wake up feeling pretty good. I’m finding I’m going through a phase of sleeping really well. Probably because I’m fucking knackered running 40 plus mile weeks.

I do my Yoga class but it’s a struggle this week. Thankfully, everyone else in the class also finds it hard work, which makes me feel a bit better/less woe is me.

I start my Weights session and again I’m not really feeling it. However, the longer it goes on, the better I feel. I’m starting to get used to the reps and the intensity. Telling you, I’ll be oiling up and posing like a roided up 80s wrestler before you know it.

Tuesday is Speed night. Not the film. It would give me no greater pleasure than to sit through Keanu and Sandra keep that bus above 50mph, but instead its Track night. And it’s Bonder…Bondra…Bondarenkos.

I actually really like Bondarenkos. 400m fast, 400 jog, 300 fast, 300 jog, 200 fast, 200 jog, 100 eye balls out. Rinse and repeat 3 times. I say I like them, but usually I don’t have to do a 4 mile warm up beforehand.

The session is named after 1988 Olympic 10k Gold Medalist Olga Bondarenko. Her coach devised this session to help her improve her speed. It’s fair to say it worked, it knocked 2 minutes off her PB and she took the gold at Seoul.

Although, Russian athlete, 1980s, possibly has a tinge of dodgy to it. Nevertheless, it’s seen as hugely beneficial for distance runners, and is actually Paula Radcliffe’s favourite training session. And if it’s good enough for Paula, then who am I to argue?

I do my 4 mile warm up, then a slower chattier 1 miler when I get to the club. As mentioned, I usually quite like this session, but I can tell straight away that I’m going to be off the pace tonight. Not massively, it’s just going to be hard work.

By the third set I’m definitely feeling it, but that is kind of the point and the reason there is a longish warm up. Tonight is not just about getting a speed session in, it’s also about teaching my body to run when fatigued.

I get through it, and I’ve knocked off 9 miles in total for the evening. I am knackered when I get home though. The first time since I started 3 weeks ago that I’ve felt it in my legs after a session. I’m sure it won’t be the last.

Wednesday morning I wake up and I’m still feeling it a bit. The legs are just a little bit heavier. I do a short Sun Salutation session to try and help wake everything up. I have a 6 mile easy run to do today, although this can be a rest day if I want. I’ll see how I feel later.

How do I feel later? Well, much better. I head out and really enjoy it. I’m starting to get into slow, easy running. As long as I’ve got my Bone Conductors in and some good music or podcasts playing then it’s all good.

Tonight my shuffle knocks out some good stuff that I’m in the mood for. Radiohead, The Smiths, The Pixies, Belle and Sebastian, Stone Roses, The Charlatans, Pulp. It’s like my 90s Teenage Indie playlist has returned for a nostalgic one night only reform. I complete my 6 down on the Prom and give myself a pat on the back.

Thursday we’re back to the most testing session of the week for me – Threshold Intervals. This week it’s slightly changed again, 6 x 1 mile intervals. I’m going to stick with the local estate loop I did last week. It seemed to work well, so if it ain’t broke..

I wake up feeling a bit stiff again on Thursday, and my old friend the dodgy Achilles is also having a little grumble. I’m convinced that if anything will stop me doing the Marathon, it’ll be that prick.

I’m out early evening and I feel quite good. I start the first mile and already my pace is faster than last week, while my heart rate stays in threshold. In fact, this continues for all 6 miles of the session.

I find this the easiest and, dare I say it, the most enjoyable Interval session of the three I’ve completed so far. Surprisingly good, surprisingly painless. Beautiful.

Friday is 4 easy and some hill reps. I head along and back down to the sea front for this one. There is a fairly steep slope that heads down to the lower prom, and this is the ‘hill’ they would like us to attack. No Storm Shithead this week, so I can brave going down there without the threat of being swept out to sea.

I’m not as tired or as stiff as I think I will be when I wake up. I’m not looking forward to the hills, but actually, when I get to them, I feel quite strong. It’s a nice morning as well, and I complete my 4 miles on the beach. Because why not.

Friday night I do some core strength and have an early night, ready to ‘attack’ those 16 miles early doors on Saturday.

So to Saturday. I’m up at 5:30am and I feel..good. I got plenty of sleep and have definitely benefited from the early night. I’m a little nervous about this run. It’s only 2 miles more than I completed quite comfortably a couple of weeks ago, but it feels like quite an important one mentally.

16 miles is starting to verge into Marathon territory. If I can get through this run, at a nice easy consistent pace, and feel ok at the end of it, then it’ll be a huge confidence booster.

I’m aiming for around 9:40 pace here, slightly slower than my target Marathon pace of 9:30. I’m out the door for 6:20am and away. I head down the sea front and there’s a bit of a cold head wind for this first 5k.

I turn inland though and this disappears. I soon get into a nice rhythm, hitting my pace, sitting on a high aerobic/low threshold heart rate.

It’s pretty flat (and lovely and quiet) until just short of 10 miles, when I have to climb out of Wallsend Burn. I knew there was a bit of a hill here, short but steep, but I push through it. Then I’ve got a gradual climb for a mile or so, after which it’ll be either fairly flat or downhill for the home stretch of the last 5.

At 11 mile I take a gel, still feeling good, and notice my heart rate jumps to low max. I’ll be honest, this pisses me off a bit. I feel good, I’ve been keeping the low pace, but just can’t seem to get it back down, even when I slow down a bit. For the last 5 miles, it jumps between high threshold and low max. Still though, I feel fine. I’m not tired, I’m not begging for this to end, I’m not uncomfortable in any way.

I finish back where I started, 16.2 miles and 2 hours and 37 minutes later, and I feel great. In fact, I’m absolutely fucking delighted. When I check my Heart Rate, I note it went into max for 25 minutes of that. Something to keep an eye on, but not something that is going to keep me awake at night.

Regardless of that HR issue, this has gone well. I’ve hit a big milestone and proved to myself that I can comfortably run 62% of a Marathon. I’m no cocky bastard though. Next week will see another 16 miler. I’ll be less nervous of that one, more confident in fact, but I’ll approach it slow and steady and concentrate on keeping that HR down.

Week 3 done, a good week. I started with a touch of tiredness and fearing that this could be the first shit week. I finish it though feeling confident I’m heading in the right direction going into week 4.

Mood: Relief

The Marathon Training Blog: Week 2

January 26, 2025January 26, 2025 notbuilttorunmarathon, Runner, Running, RunningBlogLeave a comment

“I hate Illinois Nazis”

Jake Blues, The Blues Brothers

WEEK 2: JAN 20TH – 26TH

This should be a much more structured and typical week of training. No ‘extra’ work or life stuff to get in the way. More importantly though, I’ll get proper rest in between sessions, something I didn’t have the luxury of during week 1.

On Monday my legs are a little stiff and tired, but nothing to write home about. I’m glad of the rest, and in the evening get in my Yoga and Weights sessions. I feel that Weights session on the legs a bit, but again, nowt major. Although my evening is somewhat spoilt by the news that we have a potential weather warning for the coming weekend. Oh fucking goody.

Tuesday is Speed session at the club. My 4 mile warm up is proper ploddy. Leggy and lethargic. We’re doing Up and Downs for the club tonight – fast with recovery jogs. I’m not feeling it when I arrive, but as soon as I start, I feel good. All the tiredness disappears, and I complete the reps with no problem at all. I do over 10 miles in all and mentally, it’s been a good night.

When I get up Wednesday morning, I’m feeling a little stiff, especially in my right Achilles. For a few years, I had lots of problems with it. I used to call it my ‘grumbling Achilles’. Early last year though, it suddenly cleared up. This is the first time I’ve ‘felt’ it in quite a while.

By the time I pop out for my easy 5 miler in the evening, it’s settled down. Something to certainly keep an eye on. The weather warning has been upgraded to Amber, all day Friday, gale force winds. Thoughts and prayers for my roof.

It’s Intervals time again on Thursday. For this, I’m heading to an estate quite near me, one of those nice middle class estates where cars and people only go if they actually live there. Quiet and safe, it’s a perfect spot.

Looking back at week 1, I realised that I ballsed up my first go at Intervals in Glasgow. I went far too fast, and epically failed to stay in threshold pace for most of it. Which kind of defeated the point of them.

My threshold should be between 142-159bpm. Last week I went over that for the majority of the intervals. Tonight, I’m keeping an eye on it. Look at the below. Magnificent, isn’t it. Starting to get the hang of this slowing down malarkey.

With warm up, intervals, and cools down, it’s another 9.5 miles. I don’t feel tired at all though. It’s another morale boosting training session in the locker. I’m sure in 3 or 4 weeks time, I’ll be saying the complete opposite.

Friday is clusterfuck weather day. The wind is going to be nuts all day, but at 7am is less nuts. So the plan on Thursday night when I go to bed is to get up, assess it, then decide whether I can get out for my 4 mile easy run.

The wind gives me proper PTSD. In 2021, a storm took part of my roof off. Since then, every weather warning involving wind gives me a twitch.

When I get up it doesn’t seem that bad, so I risk it, heading south into it. There’s a hill halfway through, so I get my 10×10 second reps in, then hit 2 miles and turn. The wind suddenly starts to pick up, but I’m heading North now with it on my tail. Clever shite me. The storm eventually pisses off later that day, but leaving me 2 tiles short on my roof. Bastard.

Saturday’s choice, I can rest or run a short threshold paced run. It’s my mother’s birthday, she lives 2 miles away, so I decide to have a gentle plod up there and back to see her.

Whilst Storm Whatdoyoucallit has buggered off, it’s still a bit windy, and the head wind heading to her house is constant and awful. However, I again feel like I’m starting to teach myself to stay in Threshold instead of pushing too hard.

I also feel really good when I get back. I thought there might be more tiredness setting in by this stage, but I’m feeling in a good place to attack a slow 12 miler tomorrow. However, that’s not for another 24 hours, so means diddly shit at this point.

Sunday morning comes around and, whilst it’s only 2c outside, at least it’s not really, cold, icy, or windy out there. I need a break from the shit weather on my long runs, I’m bored of it.

There is a bit of a frost, granted, but not the black ice arm breaker we’ve had the last two weekends. Again, the first 6 miles are a bit of a slog. I’m running slow, but I just can’t stay in aerobic, instead drifting into very low threshold. I feel good though.

I take a gel at 6 mile as planned, and suddenly the run changes. I speed up a tiny bit, but my heart rate stays low. Miles 6 to 12 are quite enjoyable. I’m in a rhythm, keeping it high aerobic/low threshold, and my pace of 9:30 is where I want to be.

I complete the last two miles on the sea front, and remember one of the reasons that in usual times I don’t run on a Sunday. It’s full of fucking runners. They’re everywhere. Solos. Doubles. Trios. Big groups of the fuckers. EVERYWHERE. It’s like runners rush hour.

I finish my run down there, 12.2 miles, in a nice time of 1:55. It’s about 50/50 between aerobic and low threshold, so I’ll take it. My Garmin likes it a lot, knocking another 5 mins off my Marathon race predictor.

Week 2 down, another 45 miles in the locker. I feel pretty good, not just physically, but also mentally. It’s hard work, but I’m following the plan and ‘coping’.

Next week will be more of a test. My long run is a 16 miler, but I feel confident approaching it. The next few weeks will be the start of the body creaking and the mind doubting. Strap in.

Mood: Needs bottling

Menu

Notbuilttorun.com

Author: notbuilttorun