No border, no fill ... a runner and his spreadsheet.
George Orwell said that writers are an unenterprising lot and that at the bottom of their list of motives there lies an unexplained and unresolved mystery. This mystery I think is also true of why some runners (such as myself) run, and if extrapolated logically, suggests that runners who also like to write have perhaps an even greater unknown something at the core of their athletic being. It's likely that this is the same sort of drive that forces us out into the rain, say, or to sit on a wild coastline listening to the waves; or to perhaps just drink a few too many Coopers Sparkling Ales in the downstairs bar of the pub across the road. Yes, we can to a certain extent rationally justify our urge to run, but beyond or beneath those obvious explanations such as fitness and general health lies a powerful, yet intangible, indescribable and largely unfathomable motivating force. We can sense it, often strongly so, and yet on the few occasions when we do get a clear glimpse of the enigma, it defies our attempts to describe it. Am I making sense here? Never mind, let's press on...
Some runners - typically those of us confined to urban road, track or treadmill running - may turn to numbers to add interest and in which we, if even unconsciously, continue the search for meaning. That's the way to explain it all, surely, with numbers; let's quantify the mystery! Maybe we can unlock and unravel the code by creating a spreadsheet? So there's a good idea then: log every run; the distance covered, pace, percentage improvements, repetitions, weekly and monthly totals, and so on. Then, when the numbers become overwhelming, as they soon must, add some colour through the 'conditional formatting' tool and dazzle yourself with varying auto-generated shades of red and green to assess your performance. The spreadsheet becomes a performance analysis tool and de facto coach. Heck, we may as well even give it a name (so far, I've resisted). Doubtless the next version of the software will come complete with Deep Blue-style artificial intelligence and do some actual, genuine coaching (with the addition of an extra i-coaching module for a modest fee, of course).
And so despite its intent, the spreadsheet actually reveals little to nothing about the underlying mystery that is our reason for running, and for writing about running. Buried under a sea of running numbers; hiding within the ribbons of our finishers' medals; and hopelessly lost in the words of our running diaries and blogs, the unknown 'it' continues to elude. Some successful writers such as Richard Askwith and Christopher MacDougall believe they have the answer, and maybe they do, for them, but ultimately the significance of our endeavours is different for each one of us. Our running and the way we go about it is as uniquely personal as a fingerprint. Embedded in our DNA it stays with us, customised to our personality such that no two runners will ever approach their sport in precisely the same way. Or, at least, that's my hypothesis. As hypotheses go it's not as startling or as significant as say, the string theory of quantum gravity, but it's slightly more approachable, perhaps.
Anyway, that's perhaps just a clumsy and needlessly long-winded way of saying that despite the lack of clear metaphysical answers to the deeper mysteries, I really like my spreadsheet 'logbook' and cherish the numbers it stores for me; the charts it draws and the analysis of performance it provides. And perhaps one of ways in which it does begin to approach the deeper mystery within is that it forces me to be honest with myself about my running. When I think it's been 'a while' since I did something or achieved something with my running, I typically find when I check my log that the truth is further from my perceived reality than I care to admit. A rough example: I thought today's training run may well have been my longest run for a year or so. On checking, it turns out that it was in fact my longest run in three years and four months.
Oh yes, in data there is truth (et data est veritatis?). Data isn't just a useful memory aide however; it actually tells me something significant about my running habits that I clearly hadn't wanted to be frank with myself about. It doesn't just keep me honest; it also provides seriously useful data that perhaps I hadn't properly considered. This is extremely motivating and of course, a great boost to my confidence. Again, using today's run as an example, on examination I find it was not only my longest run in over three years, but it's the only time I've run that sort of distance in the middle of a string of night shifts, and it was also one of my longest runs in warm, muggy weather, as well. This all makes it far more significant than I had fully appreciated. And that is a good thing. These are useful pieces of information that help run the motivation flag up the mast.
I've banged on enough about the perils of shift work already, but let me just say this because today was different on several levels: I normally don't run very much at all when working the night shift, as the old body just takes such a hammering that running is difficult. Very difficult.
Or is it?
A great many people have said that running is largely a mental game, and I believe that to be true once you have surmounted the obvious, basic physical hurdles of elemental fitness, of course. As numerous people prove time and time again, it is astonishing what the human body is capable of once you put your mind to a specific task. If you want to achieve a goal badly enough, you will somehow find a way to get there. The main problem for me is that when tired, I have a great deal of trouble even remembering what the goal was, and why it was supposed to be significant, let alone set about brewing a fresh pot of enthusiasm.
Sometimes the goal is just unavoidably big and obvious however, and with only a very short amount of time left until the Almeria half, and desperately wanting to arrive there in reasonable condition, it has become vitally important to me to get as many training runs completed as possible in the short time remaining. If that means completing long runs whilst working the night shift, then so be it. And that is how today's effort came about.
Now that doesn't change the external factors at all: the body is still hammered from working through the night. The brain still fails to fire the right sort of synapses and motivation is low. Extremely low. It's important therefore to focus as firmly on the goal as possible and aid the process by having everything organised the day/night before and to get on with it without having to expend very much brain power.
Due to the heat of the afternoon (the only time available today for me to run), the treadmill was the only option today. Even if I had felt capable of running outdoors in the heat, the brain being so befogged makes mixing with the traffic and even other pedestrians a dubious option, at best.
Fortunately, the treadmill's electronic brain can be pre-programmed, and this I did a day prior, ensuring that the time, distance, and importantly, the pace of my run was already thought out in advance and I could just get on with the business of putting one foot in front of the other without thinking too much about it. So with the treadmill programmed and my running kit all organised, I headed off for the night knowing that on my return all I needed to do was crash for a few hours and all would be ready when I awoke.
I had set my alarm clock for 1:30 pm, and having arrived home at 7:15 am I was in bed asleep by 7:30. Six hours sleep is not really enough in this situation, but that's all the time I had available if I was to squeeze in a three-hour session, which was the plan. As it happened, I was wide awake and out of bed an hour earlier than that and decided to just get on with it.
The plan included running on empty, i.e. no breakfast, which is all part of training the body to primarily burn fat rather than carbohydrate, and which thus far is working well for me. This also means hydrating with water only - no sports drinks and no gels. It's a very simple nutrition plan in that regard. The run itself was a straight-forward affair: a 15 minute walking warm up, two and a half hours of continuous running, the pace gradually building in the first hour, remaining constant for forty minutes and then easing back before a 15-minute cool down walk at the end. In all, nearly 24 kilometres were covered. It wasn't fast, certainly, but it was comfortable, and it was accomplished at a low-heart rate, and so in theory burned way more fat than carbohydrate. The full benefit of this style of running won't be realised until I push the distance up yet further. Beyond 30 kilometres, if I follow the programme properly, I expect the pattern to continue with easy, fat-burning running that pushes back the 'hitting the wall' phenomenon of glycogen depletion ever further, hopefully beyond the 42.2 km point, which is the goal.
That's the theory, and I'm not there yet, but already I am running further and more frequently without discomfort. For example, and again I'm consulting my spreadsheet to confirm this, but so far this week I've already covered over 50 kilometres with still one run to come; which is my best week of running since March last year and it has been completed with seemingly ridiculous ease, despite the heat and despite the perils of night shift. To say I'm well pleased would be to understate the fact considerably.
I must of course pay tribute to Dr Phil for this. No, not that Dr Phil, but Dr Phil Maffetone of whom I have written much already. Running has never felt this easy, and it's entirely due to his simple method of improving endurance by training in a low heart rate zone, and removing excess carbs from your diet.
Anyway, with today's run complete I finally had a high-protein, low-carb breakfast of nuts, eggs and cheese at 4:30 pm. An hour later, I allowed myself a chocolate biscuit with my first coffee of the day (black, no sugar of course). The biscuit was consumed in mere milliseconds and doubtless, had he some psycho-telepathic powers and some inexplicable desire to observe my actions, Dr Maffetone would probably have face-palmed in disbelief. Never mind, the biscuit was consumed with that wonderful, piquant relish of satisfaction that invariably follows a long and well-executed run and which will doubtless mitigate any harmful effects of the junk calories consumed. Just as one run does not undo a week of gluttony, nor does one biscuit negate the benefits of a three-hour workout.
So, it's time to declare myself half-marathon ready. It'll only be a training run - there's no chance of anything like sub-2 hour pace this time around, but the important thing is I'll be there, I'll get round the course, and there'll be a large contingent of running comrades to share the moment.
After that? What of future goals?
Well, more on that topic soon.
Jumpin' Januaries!
