Never say never again

This may well be my last post on this blog. I'm still running, of course. As long as my legs can take it I have no intention of ever giving up this sport. Running defines me. I'm a runner. If I don't run, a part of me will have died. If I run and my health permits this, it helps to stay healthy, it helps to stay fit, it helps keep a trim shape, look a couple of years younger, and permits me to consume more calories than I would otherwise be able to without turning into a two-legged sphere. It also enables me to remain a part of the lovely bunch of people making up the world running community: my dear running friends in Malta and many familiar faces in Belgium, where I've set up home, as well as other countless thousands with whom I compete in running events around the world.

I named this blog Run 42k. It was my nickname chosen on an internet discussion forum over a decade ago. Clearly, it refers to the marathon, which is the event that has always fascinated me, of which I have now completed 16 editions. The list ("The Collection") is proudly displayed on the right.

A marathon is a long, long run. On new year's day a week ago, driving from Brussels to Ypres in West Flanders, there was a stretch of road marked on the GPS that was 42 km long. The length of a marathon. I mentioned this to Sue, my wife, who was seated next to me in the car, and driving this strip of road at high velocity took a long time. This test always impresses into me the fact that the marathon is no idle walk in the park at all. Running this far requires a huge effort including many weeks and months of preparation. Eventually, with the advancing years there has to be a last marathon. A marathon after which one says: this is it.

But there's a dilemma. How should "it" be? In 2013, following my marathon in Rotterdam, where I had struggled and slowed down to a limp at 7 km before the finish, before resuming my run and (incredibly) finishing with a sprint, I wrote a blog post here with the title "That's all folks", where I announced my retirement from marathons. Soon after, I thought that I shouldn't end my marathon career on such a sour note, so I decided to end with a "proper" performance. Two years later I ran in Vienna (a substitute for Paris, which was already sold out), and last April (2016) I made sure I could run the Paris marathon.

The last part of Vienna was also a struggle. In Paris I decided I should just concentrate on finishing comfortably and forget about the time. This strategy succeeded, but the finishing time turned out to be my worst ever. In a way, it was a good thing. If I had obtained a good time I would have considered that it was a pity to stop while I was doing so well. So, the relatively "comfortable" finish at a mediocre time was a good compromise for my last marathon.

Except that this year I was seriously considering having a final go at the place where it all started for me: in Malta. Injury decreed otherwise, so I'm still hoping that I can say a final goodbye to marathons some time in the future, in Malta. It would only be appropriate.

If not, I'm only too happy to take part in various half marathons and other events. Forgetting about any personal bests of course. If I set a PB at any distance at 54 years of age, it would only mean that I was not running properly at all when I was 30!

[P.S. A week after I wrote the above post, I went for a 90-minute run in freezing conditions. It was part of my comeback that would lead to a half marathon 6 weeks later. The run went exceedingly well. It may well have been my very last run. My hip played up again, quite painfully, late in the evening of that day. Since then it's just physiotherapy, with the knowledge that I have a lesion in the right 'labrum' of my hip. I sincerely don't know if I'll ever resume my regular running again. - 03/02/2017]

Wings For Life 2016 in Rouen

It's amazing how a city as beautiful as Rouen can host such a disappointingly depressing route.

I had been looking forward so much to the Wings For Life 2016 edition, this year in Rouen, France. My training was going well, so I was hoping to have a great run and maybe even beat my best performance of 2014 in Ypres, when I ran for 28.3 km until the Catcher car reached me. But various factors worked against me on the day.

To begin with, it was so hot. The first few kilometres were uphill inside the less attractive parts of the city, then a sharp downhill and further twists and turns in nondescript residential areas. It was important to stay hydrated given the high temperature, so we were looking forward to the first feeding and hydration station at 5 km. Except that there was nothing of the sort. Neither was there any at the 6 km mark...

We were already considerably thirsty when we reached the first measly watering station somewhere between the 7th and the 8th kilometre. You could see it from afar as a commotion had developed around the small couple of tables that were supposed to serve thousands of thirsty runners in a hurry. So how did the efficient organisers go about supplying water to said thousands of runners? Instead of providing small plastic bottles for runners to pick up and drink on the run, they employed helpers to fill small plastic cups from huge 2 litre bottles. The poor volunteers were hopelessly outnumbered and simply couldn't cope. The flimsy cups were falling over or being tipped over by frantic runners desperate to pick up a cup and keep going. What a chaos. I grabbed a plastic cup half filled with water, gulped it down and ran on, still thirsty.

The water situation never improved. This was a major fault of the Rouen Wings For Life 2016. Everyone knew from a week ahead that it was going to be hot and that 6000 participants would need to drink a lot of water, but the amount supplied was so inadequate. At 12 or 13 km we ran along the main quay of the river Seine - one of the more attractive parts of the course - in front of generally amused spectators having a drink at a table. I remember thinking that if I grabbed a bottle of water from one of these tables, its owner wouldn't be able to do anything about it and I would obtain some desperately needed rehydration.

The same thought occurred to me later when we passed some buses with large quantities water bottles inside. Can't figure out for whom these were intended. Too bad I didn't take one, gorge myself in it and pass on to other runners.

From the 14th kilometre or so onwards the route ran along the river Seine. I had been looking forward to some picturesque scenery, the river on the left and forests or peaceful agricultural areas on the right. It was nothing of the sort. We only had occasional glimpses of the river while running through industrial storages, factories and such stuff. A strong headwind just had to blow up at that point. This, together with the heat, the lack of water and my much too fast first hour (effortless, it had seemed at the time) added up at 21 to 22 km into a sudden urge to slow down to a walk. It happens sometimes, unfortunately. Maybe I gave in too easily to the urge. Maybe I should have slowed down to a jog and pressed on, but it's easy to say now. I was tired and I was only interested in reaching the next water station.

I did resume running and as the 26 km mark approached we heard the cacophony of the catcher car coming up from behind. I increased the pace, determined to pass at least the 26 km point, and when the car reached me I had sprinted up to about 26.3 km.

Oh well. Hopefully, next time I'll do better. Up until now my Wings For Life performances are looking disconcertingly like a steady decline:

2014 in Ypres - 28.3 km, nursing a hamstring injury, not knowing if I could even run at all, I started at a very careful pace, which was probably the main reason why I had a fantastic run. The other reason was the weather, which was simply, absolutely, perfect. And a totally flat route.

2015 in Porto - 27.5 km, running into an Atlantic storm on an undulating route.

2016 in Rouen - 26.3 km.

2017? Who knows. Still looking forward to it and to, just maybe, more favourable conditions. Although my best performance may well be already in the past... on an injured hamstring.

The humble 10k training run

The scene of a thousand runs.

I'm always writing about races, marathons, important long runs... and yet, most of my runs, by far, consist of the routine 10 km training run. It's only appropriate, I'm thinking, that I should record one post about this, a run that is equally important as the long runs that lead up to any particular long distance running event.

The 10 km training run is the filler that consolidates the endurance obtained by means of the long run. It ensures continuity of my running activity. Three times every week, I go out of the front door either for a straightforward easy (recovery) run that lasts around 55 minutes or for a 'quality' run which includes running at a fast pace.

By now, my running career spans a good quarter of a century. Throughout the years, the route of my standard 10k training run has changed according to where I was living. In the early days it used to start where there's the "LOVE" atrocity at Spinola Bay and followed the St Julian's, Sliema and Gżira coast towards Manoel Island and back. I still make it a point to run along parts of this route whenever I'm in Malta. It's surely the area most frequented by runners and joggers in Malta.

In my 'second' life in Belgium, my standard 10k started off as a cold and dark double loop early in the morning in Ixelles, to be replaced by much more pleasant variations at the Bois de la Cambre and the adjacent Forêt de Soignes. Then over to Hoeilaart and two alternatives: towards the same Forêt de Soignes but from the opposite direction, or towards Overijse and the straight road leading to Huldenberg.

But that's history. Now we seem to have established ourselves at the edge of Overijse, close to Hoeilaart. A steep hill creates a physical barrier from Hoeilaart, so my 10k has now been oriented towards Jezus Eik and the adjacent Arboretum. The fact that I work from home makes it possible for me to start my run at lunchtime, which is much more convenient than the early morning or the evening. I go up a slight uphill, then along a road running parallel to the E411 motorway, across a flyover spanning the motorway towards the main commercial street in Overijse, and soon enough into the Arboretum - the forest.

It takes me 18 minutes to leave the streets and enter the forest paths. That's too much, but the alternative would be to drive and start at the edge of the forest, which would be inconvenient for a daily run. That leaves 19 minutes of running in the forest and another 18 minutes to go back home. The forest section consists of a winding path to begin with, followed by a long straight with large trees on both sides, then a turn to the left into a picturesque S-shaped path leading down and back up to another path, which goes back to the first winding path. It's a pleasant route, marred just a bit by the occasional unleashed dog and one rather stony passage.

It's my standard run, and the way things stand, if I keep running for as long as I intend to do, it may well turn out to be the route I've run most. Literally a thousand times or more.

The Paris Marathon, 3 April 2016

Made it! I achieved my dream of running along the Champs Elysees, and went on to run my 16th marathon.

My preparation was disrupted by an illness in the last few weeks, but I had done sufficient long distance running prior to that to carry me through, even though a nagging cough kept me worried until the very last day. So my plan this time was quite simple: treat the marathon as a very long run, without any time pressure and without at any point trying to run faster than my standard comfortable pace. The sole objective was to keep running from start to finish.

The day dawned rather warm and sunny. That was an advantage during the normally shivery half hour before the start of the race, but less so as the day progressed and the sun reached higher up in the sky. The anticipated excitement was all there. Crowds everywhere cheered the 43,000 participants. We set off in separate groups to facilitate handling of the large numbers. I had indicated a finishing time of 3h45 so I started with the purple group at 9:30, ten minutes later than the scheduled 9:20.

From the Champs Elysees we went to Place de la Concorde then left towards Rue de Rivoli. The sun was straight ahead for a good long distance. It was the one thing that bothered me a bit in the beginning. But it was ok. I was thrilled about running a marathon in Paris. I kept looking at the street names to keep track where we were, but soon gave up as we entered unfamiliar parts of the city. I was looking forward to getting a glimpse of Sue and Gianluca at the 12 km mark, where they had planned to go to cheer me on, and sure enough they were there! Two high-fives gave an excellent boost to my morale.

The biggest surprise for me, and a matter of considerable concern, was the fact that the feeding stations did not provide any energy drinks. This was a major factor that I had been banking upon to keep me going. I always take a belt with an energy drink for my long distance runs, but this time I relied on the fact that in all my previous marathons these were provided by the organisers. But not in Paris! There was water (thankfully in bottles) plus bananas, oranges and dried fruit. After the second feeding station without any energy drink I decided that I had to replenish my muscle fuel reserves by taking banana. It was a risk, as I had never before eaten anything while running, but it was less risky than not taking anything at all except water. It worked. The two banana halves that I took combined with the increasing heat made me very thirsty, but this problem was resolved at the next drinking station 5 km later.

It's the problems section of this post. Please bear with me. The good points come later. I need to mention the main problem I encountered in the Paris marathon, which was of course the overcrowding. There was a queue to enter the bag storage area (compounded by additional security checks because of those beasts the terrorists), another queue to enter the 3h45 finishers' group starting corrall, and similar queues on exhausted legs to retrieve the bags and simply to get out of the area after the finish, this time compounded by well wishers and spectators who were blocking the way out. And during the run itself... I had to slow down or weave my way around slower runners, not just at the first couple of kilometres as is normal for most races, but all the way from start to finish. Ok, I'm not getting any younger and certainly not any faster with the advancing years, but there's a good probability that my worst ever finishing time for a marathon, 3h55, is partly due to the constant weaving in between slower runners resulting in an actual distance run that was even longer than 42.2 km. The strange thing is that I was overtaking other runners all the time. All of these slower participants had started either in my own corrall, i.e. stating that they would finish in 3h45, or even in a faster corrall, expecting to finish in 3h30, but in actual fact they must have been grossly overoptimistic because at a slow 3h55 I beat them all by a good margin.

So I'm still learning lessons from my 16th marathon at 53 years of age; (1) the big city marathons are too crowded for my liking, and (2) you have to state an overoptimistic finishing time to avoid slower runners getting in your way, because everyone else does it.

Gripes over. I'm hugely pleased with myself, for the following reasons:

1. I actually ran the Paris marathon, having promised myself to do this and having missed the previous edition.

2. I have completed my 16th marathon. No mean achievement for a common mortal.

3. I was overtaking other participants from start to finish.

4. I didn't experience too much discomfort at any time. Well... quite some discomfort during the last 10 km, but not too much. At the 32 km mark I used the old mental trick: I'm now beginning a 10k run, something I've done thousands of times. This will be yet another one. One kilometre later I started a 9 km run, and so it went on. As time and distance wore on I imagined myself doing the final stages of my standard long run at home: the Arboretum in the forest, the Jezus Eik church, Brusselsesteenweg, the bridge over the E411 motorway and the final one mile stretch before reaching home. It wasn't easy - it's a marathon we're talking about! - but I never experienced the overwhelming urge to slow down to a walk. On the contrary, I was seeking to overtake slower runners who were blocking my path even in these late stages of the race.

5. Final position no. 12,427 out of more than 43,000 starters and 41,757 who finished the race. So, at 53 I placed in the top third of the final overall classification.

6. 11,1766th of 31,651 men who finished the race.

7. 1564th of 5612 in my age and sex category - that's in the top 28%.

But I know that with better luck in my preparation and if I choose a less crowded marathon, I can do better, So, bring on the next marathon!

Two weeks to go before Paris

At least in my case, the main story behind most marathons is in the build-up, rather than in the actual marathon itself.

The Paris marathon, that I hope to run in two weeks' time today, looks like being another case in point.

I decided that I wanted to run the Paris marathon in September 2014, while on a visit there. Being in Paris always thrills me, and touring around the various landmarks such as the Arc de Triomphe, Champs Elysees, Place de la Concorde and so many others, I thought: I just have to run the Paris marathon. My next scheduled marathon was in spring the following year, so I no longer had any doubt where that would happen. I resolved that in 7 months' time I would run through the middle of the Champs Elysees.

Except that I didn't. So many things can go wrong in the build-up to a marathon, so I often leave it till the latest possible to commit myself by paying the entrance fee. This time I left it too late because in January 2015, 3 months before the event, it was already sold out. Which is why in April 2015 I ran the Vienna marathon instead.

Well... Paris is still there and I'm still running, so what I failed to do in 2015 I could always do in 2016. This time I didn't take any chances. Almost a full year before the big day, I entered my name for the Paris marathon.

I had ample time to plan my training. My plan is quite simple for any event - in one week I normally go for 3 runs of 10 km plus one long run. The 10k's may optionally include a speed session or a race. The long run becomes longer by 15 minutes every 3 weeks, i.e. 1 and a half hours for 3 weeks, then 1h 45minutes the following 3 weeks, and so on until I reach 3 hours. My longest run before a marathon is 3h 15 minutes (equivalent to about 36 km), which is followed by tapering for the 3 weeks leading to the event.

Last year in Vienna I tired out quite badly in the last few kilometres, so I thought that in 3 weeks tapering I may have been losing some endurance. This time I decided that the last very long run would be 2 weeks before the marathon and that I would ensure that the last 2 weeks would be very easy so that I am well rested on the big day. I also decided that only one 36k was not enough to get used to running very long distances. My last very long run at 2 weeks out would be my second 36k. This was the plan:

1h30 x 3 --- 1h45 x 3 --- 2h x 3 and so on until 2h45 x 3 --- one week break --- 3h x 2 --- 3h15 x 2

The last four very long runs would be every one and a half weeks instead of once a week, to allow enough time for leg muscle recovery. In the plan I built in two weeks for unforeseen stoppages for mishaps or illness, but none happened so I ran a 20 kilometre race, Les Hivernales de Boitsfort, in early February to fill in the schedule.

The plan worked like a dream. I overcame snow, wind, rain, back injury, a cold coinciding precisely with a stoppage for a holiday in Montenegro, plantar fasciitis, mild tendonitis... without missing a single long run! Three hours for 33k, then 36k... practically perfect runs.

Today would have been my last 36k, then 2 weeks very easy to be rested and in good shape for the big day. It was not to be, of course. I now have a nasty cold. My Facebook newsfeed 'reminds' me that in two weeks' time I'll be running the Schneider Paris Marathon. Let's just hope that I'll recover sufficiently to get back into shape.

It's a good thing I had included two 36k runs and not just one. My last long run before the marathon will be 3 and a half weeks before - much too long for comfort, but that's the way it has to be. At least it was 36k and not just 33k. And my leg muscles will surely be rested.

About 8 years ago I ran a full marathon on just one 3 hour long run (plus of course the normal build up) a full six weeks before the event followed by four weeks of no running at all due to a cold. This time I've done 3 hours twice, then 3 hours 15 minutes 'only' 3 and a half weeks before the event. I can still do Paris.

I only dearly hope to recover very soon from the cold and that it doesn't last for 4 weeks!

Les Hivernaltes de Boitsfort 20 km - 7 February 2016

I had not run this race, one of my ‘early’ favourites in Belgium, since several years. This time I thought it would serve as good race practice ahead of my upcoming marathon in 8 weeks’ time. It would also delay by one week my build up of long runs, which would otherwise peak one week too early. And serve as a welcome break from very long runs, which I have now been doing without fail since I can’t remember when.

Although I could have thought of a somewhat more restful “break”. This hardly qualifies as a break at all. A 20 km race on a hilly route cannot be considered to be a rest. The really effective rest period will probably happen the next 5 days with no running at all while on a sightseeing visit to Montenegro.

They have a habit of changing race routes in Belgium. Les Hivernales is no exception. This year’s was at least the third different version of the route that I can remember out of my six participations to date. The initial loop around the streets of Boitsfort was a bit more extended this time. It gave us the chance to get really warmed up before embarking up the hill into the Foret des Soignes. There, we followed the usual fairly steeply undulating route which, this year, instead of going out to a narrow path adjacent to the road, turned back into the forest. This was a good idea.

This route change didn’t catch me by surprise as I had already had a look at it on the organisers’ website. So I was already bracing myself for a probable steep hill and, sure enough, at around the ninth kilometre following a long fast downhill stretch, we went down into a slight dip and came up against a wall, i.e. a steep hill. This was the turning point of my run – a positive turning point. Many felt justified to walk up this 200 metre stretch. But I know, from experience, that once I walk it’s the end of my performance and I will later keep slowing down to a walk for every little excuse. I decided to treat this like running up a flight of steps and above all not to be upset at the loss of speed. In any case, I was going past other ‘walkers’, meaning that I was actually gaining ground compared to walking pace.

Soon enough, the path came back to level and my breathing settled back to normal. It helped no little that at the moment I’m rather fit from my marathon training and that I had rested properly with no running at all during the previous two days. We rejoined the laggards from the 10 km race. Going past so many runners was a further boost for me and I kept up the momentum even after the latter went along their own way while we took a further detour on our 20k route.

From here on it was the usual route. It wasn’t flat but never too steep either, except for the bit at Groenendaal going up into the Tumulidreef at 16 to 17 km. I passed a fair number of rivals in the last few kilometres. Two of them overtook me again in the last half kilometre, but I didn’t react as I was running the fastest I could. My good work had already been done – throughout the run.

It's feels so good at the end of a race when I'm convinced that I couldn't have run any faster.

Some statistics: time 1:16:04. Finishing position 257th of  889 finishers. 42nd of 180 in my age group. 4:50 minutes per kilometre. 12.43 kph

Vlaams Brabant Loopcriterium, 2015

I wrote the other time that I've become a lazy writer. Almost a non-writer. Too much Facebook and too much Candy Crush. Too bad.

I used to write about every 'significant' run, which normally meant that every race would warrant a blog post. Well, not any more. Nowadays an entire season of races making up the yearly challenge of events in Vlaams Brabant (previously the Watermolen Cup, then Scott2Run, from this year Loopcriterium something) are wound up in a single blog post. It may also mean that the various individual races are becoming routine for me and no longer so 'significant'. Never mind.

The first run was quite significant, actually, and I even got round to writing a blog post but didn't manage to complete it. It was the first day of spring, still as cold as winter. We started at Tervuren and moved into the Arboretum forest, still very much in winter attire (both the forest and us runners). The other year I had to slow down to a walk after a hill too many in the second half. This year I was warned so I held back in the beginning to remain strong in the end. It worked, but I learned a great truth. I'm slowing down. There's nothing much I can do about it. We all age (unless we die young). A 70 year old runs slower than a 30 year old, and the slowdown is not sudden but gradual. Which is why my finishing times are becoming progressively longer. I was faster than last year but that comparison doesn't count because of the walking 'sessions'. Instead, I compared my time with a comeback run I had done 3 or 4 years ago, still nursing a hamstring injury, and then, hamstring and all, I was still quite faster than this year while fully fit. Never mind...

Two weeks (plus one day) later I had the Vienna marathon. I needed to get 7 runs in total to be able to classify at the end of the Loopcriterium, so a week after the marathon I had to go to Perk to chalk up another participation and a couple of hundred points. The intention was simply to take it easy and complete the loop. Obviously, I ended up racing and had quite a good performance too. The completely flat route worked to my advantage.

Another 2 weeks and I went to Porto for the Wings for Life run there. This was the 2nd or 3rd of May. Six days later I was in Hoeilaart for the Meifeest run, which I hadn't done for quite a few years. (Come to think of it, I realise that a good number of runs I couldn't run really fast due to being tired from preparatory long runs or from long distance events.) In Hoeilaart they have changed the day - from Friday to Saturday evening - as well as the old familiar course, which still goes into the Groenendaal wood but now takes in a much more challenging hill up to the rural area of the commune. I did well to keep running both times that we went up this hill. It was another good run, considering the hard work I had been doing the few weeks before - a full marathon and a 25 km Wings for Life.

Around 21st June, the official beginning of summer, we have the Machelen 9 point something kilometre race. This, too, they have changed. It's still in two loops but now they have included a rather long uphill street, which came as a bit of a surprise to me. Here, too, I maintained a reasonably good rhythm from start to finish, but the final time was nothing to write home about...

In the end of July, on a Friday evening, we had another double loop in Kortenberg. I was a bit wary of this one, as a few years ago I had a difficult race here and had to stop walking for a while in the forest. It turned out to be a good run for me, with a strong finish, although yet again I increased my final time.

Then came the summer visit to Malta, which made me miss the Duisburg 10 km and the Zaventem half marathon. Instead, I went straight into a race at the peak of the Mediterranean summer heat, a night race at Żebbuġ. I had to retire mid-way through this, fearing heat stroke. I hadn't been feeling well, either, and I think I did well to stop. I did recover well in the remaining 2 and a half weeks, putting in regular midweek training runs early in the morning running 15 loops around the block of buildings in Ta' Giorni where we were staying, and most importantly two hour runs for two Sundays running. Mid-August. That was excellent.

Back in cool and temperate Belgium... I needed two more races to complete my seven. Vossem I ran in much the same spirit as Machelen and Kortenberg. Meaning that I ran as fast as I thought I could reasonably expect, only to discover with dismay at the end that my performance worse than usual. I had laughed at a good friend of mine a number of years back, back in Malta, who in his fifties had complained that his times were a minute more each year. "What should he expect?" I had wondered, almost aloud. He's not getting any younger and the older you get the slower you become. Well, it's hard to accept that when it's you who are hit by this tough reality.

The last run to complete my set of seven was the dreaded Bertem, with its impossible hill in the forest, that I had conquered well, twice, the previous year. This time the hill never materialised. Bertem, too, had had its course changed. I realised this gradually during the first loop, and then, with a sense of relief we started the long, fast downhill run back to the start for the second loop. It should be ok, then, no more terrible hill to worry about. But I had forgotten that, instead of going up a very steep hill, we needed to go up by exactly the same elevation over a longer distance. For the first time in this year's edition of the Loopcriterium, in the second half of the last event, I slowed down to a walk! With consequent mediocre time.

Good thing that 3 weeks later I made up for this demoralising setback with a decent performance at the Brussels half marathon.

It was enough for me to obtain yet another placing in the top 20 of my category for this year. There were exactly 7 out of 13 races that were physically possible for me to achieve, and I managed to do them all.

A long, dark, cold, wintry preparation for the Paris marathon now beckons. My last marathon?