Three days ago I ran for 3 km - 15 minutes - a run which I repeated the following day. One day of rest, and today I did 26 minutes for about 5 km.
How did I get down here? Well, it's a long story... (that's from "Down in the Sewer" by The Stranglers).
It was a long series of setbacks, starting with my motivation crisis last summer, followed by a three week period in the peak of summer in Malta, a slight recovery beginning of September after my return to Belgium, another stop for a one week vacation, then an injury in my calf, illness, a repeat injury on my comeback run... I haven't trained regularly since two months, and hadn't run at all for a whole month before last Thursday.
During this upheaval there were some interesting, I would call defining moments.
I would say the low point of my crisis was the Duisburg 10 km race on 8 August, which I started too fast, also considering my bad form due to lack of sufficient training, and which ended up being the third out of six races up till then in the Scott2Run series where I had to slow down to a walk. Admittedly, the route was difficult, the second half being mostly uphill on difficult terrain including cobbled paths, mud, narrow passages and so on. Even my choice of shoes was wrong on that day.
In Malta, for 3 weeks starting a few days later, I knew what to expect. I managed some runs that took an immense degree of will power to complete in the heat, but it was generally low key running with the inclusion of a good deal of swimming. For example, here...
That was simply wonderful!
I was taking it easy on purpose, with the intention of taking it up a notch or two in September. There was a 5 km race close to the end of August in Birżebbuġa. The temperature was around 33 C, the air humid, and two hours before the start I was still undecided whether to take part or not. I drove there, poured a lot of water on top of my head, drank another lot, and gave them my name. My intention was simply to complete the distance without slowing down to a walk. 5 kilometres! I did in fact run the whole way, which was actually a bit of an achievement in those conditions, but it was there and then that I decided that I was going to pick myself up and build up to a full marathon.
Easier said than done.
My recovery started very well, actually. Back in Belgium, beginning of September, I was dreading the final race for this year's edition of the Scott2Run series. This was a 10 km race in Bertem. Double the distance of Birżebbuġa and including a hill that's the steepest I know of all races I've ever done. In two times 5 km loops. Amazingly, it turned out to be one of best runs this year, probably second to the February half marathon in Malta. I registered the best speed, over 13 km/h, as well as my best finishing position for the whole series. It was a defining moment because I found out that, in spite of the doom and gloom, there was nothing basically wrong with me. My success here was due to three main factors, which I hope to keep in mind for the future:
1. I started slowly. (Now, really, after 23 years of running, do I still need to remind myself of this?)
2. I knew what to expect, so I was mentally prepared for the killer hill (times two).
3. I was determined to keep running and never slow down to a walk.
Following this success all seemed fine. I could resume regular training and build up my distances. I took a break of one week for a family commitment, but after the resumption a sharp pain in my right calf brought me to a sudden halt. Literally. Then a cold, then again the same injury...
Which is why my training runs this week were 3 kilometres and 5 kilometres. I hope my calf is now fine, and I have to be careful and ease back into my standard training schedule very gradually.
I was in Paris recently. In another defining moment, I knew that I had to run through the middle of the Champs Elysees, the Place de la Concorde and along the banks of the river Seine. I decided to aim to run the Paris marathon on 12 April 2015. Now, if my comeback goes according to plan, I might just be able to make it.
As the saying goes, mighty oaks from little acorns grow...
