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?

Alive and running - Brussels half marathon, October 2015

Hello, fan... I may have become lazy with my blogging, but I'm still running. Just completed the Brussels half marathon a week ago.

Throughout spring and summer I managed yet another placing in my age category in the Flemish Brabant challenge competition (more on that in another post). In the meantime I was building up the length of my long runs in preparation for the half marathon, which included two-hour runs, plus weekly runs to stay in shape, in Malta in the peak of summer in August.

It was a good build up. I had a setback in mid-September due to a strain in my back, which forced me to stop running for one week, but I had enough time to recover for the big day on Sunday 4th October.

It was a day of perfect weather, sunny with a mild temperature. We set off from the Parc Cinquantenaire, about 8000 runners, towards Rue de la Loi through the middle of the EU district where I work, on to the the Parc de Bruxelles in front of the king's palace. The first 10 km are not so easy, undulating with a net rise in level, but not really tough.

I had a bit of a shock at the 10 km checkpoint, which had a clock showing the time, a bit over 50 minutes. This was very slow indeed, little better than training pace, but I consoled myself that either: (a) it was positioned in the wrong place (quite a common occurrence in races organised in Belgium), or (b) it was actually the half way mark, i.e. 10.55 km. It dawned on me later that the position was correct and the time was the official time from the start, including the time it took me to get to the starting line.

Of course, the main reason for the poor time is really simple. I'm slowing down, but more on that later.

On a positive note, my race was a crescendo from start to finish. After the 10 km mark there's a downhill stretch towards Watermael. It was easy to pick up the pace here, of course, but when the road levelled out I kept a good rhythm through Auderghem towards the much feared hill up Avenue de Tervuren. Here the half marathon runners are joined by the marathon runners who are coming back from their 21 km loop into Tervuren, and you lose track of which runners around you are your direct rivals for the half, or whether they are incidental rivals doing the full marathon. In any case, your main concern here to go up the hill, which is longer than one kilometre.

There's an obelisk that marks the end of the hill, and from then on there remain about 6 km to the end of the race. I decided to increase the pace some more and started picking up people ahead with the aim of overtaking them. Many of them may have been taking part in the full marathon, but I didn't care and it didn't matter. It helped me keep a strong pace. I wasn't the only one doing this, of course, and in fact I was also being overtaken by a few others. For instance, in some cases I would pick someone to reach who was also doing my overtaking game and I would soon realise I couldn't reach him (it was mostly men at this stage of the race). So I would forget about him and look for someone else, while in the meantime overtaking others whom I had ignored.

It was quite interesting, actually, and apart from improving my time it helped for the last stretch to go by rather quickly. We raced downhill towards the old centre of Brussels, back on the detested cobble stones, into the spectacular Grand Place, which I hardly noticed, and zigzagging from one cobbled street to the next until the final turn and the open space known as De Brouckere. The finishing sprint is not one of my strongest points and in fact I was overtaken by several runners here, but it's not really important - a great winning sprint earns you three or four positions (to place in 1324th instead of 1329th place out of 8000) and you gain maybe 5 to 10 seconds, but it leaves you half dead. I was happy enough with my solid effort spread throughout the 21 km.

I finished in 1h41:55, in 1374th position out of 7874, at an average pace of 4:50 minutes per km overall. My 10 km split was 48:35, one and a half seconds per kilometre slower than the overall pace. 

I've resigned myself to the inevitable. I'm slowing down at roughly one minute per year but at 53 I'm still placing much higher than midpoint in the overall classification. This was my favourite type of performance - the first section at a moderate pace which helps preserve energy for a strong second half - well executed.

As I remarked on Facebook, a one minute slowdown per year would mean a half marathon in 1h59 at the age of 70. I should be quite happy with that.

For all my effort, I got this nice medal, sore leg muscles for two days, and a happy conviction that I can look forward to doing well in other future events.

Wings for Life 2015, Porto

Porto is the second largest city of Portugal. It lies at the mouth of the Douro river that pours into the Atlantic Ocean. It's famous for giving the world the alcoholic drink known as port, made from grapes grown in the Douro valley and fermented and aged in cellars at the river bank close to the coast.

For some reason I chose this city when I registered for my second Wings for Life run, many months ago. It may have been due to the fact that a flight to Porto was available from Brussels at a low cost. I'm not really sure why. I was just a bit concerned that, since Portugal lies quite close to the Mediterranean, a long distance race in May might turn out to be too hot for comfort.

I needn't have worried one bit about this. I should have known that, being at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, Portugal is the place where the humid oceanic air hits the European mainland, there to precipitate as rainfall. I should have worried, instead, of the possibility of rain on my big day in Porto.

The forecast said rain from 10 days ahead, and it wasn't wrong. We gathered in the Placa Galica after 11 in the morning wearing all sorts of plastic covers, waited to hand over our bag of clothes, and gathered behind the starting banner. As is my custom, I sat down on the ground amid a crowd of standing runners waiting for the start, hugging myself and trying to occupy as small a surface area as possible to avoid getting cold or wet.

Off we went! I forgot all about the rain the moment we began to run. My only concern was to hit the right pace: 4 minutes 52 seconds per kilometre, which I later realised was 3 seconds per kilometre too fast for my target. I kept very close to this pace, then we started the downhill section of the run. This is where the kilometre splits became quite fast as we approached the coast.

Then we hit the coast. And the Atlantic Ocean hit back. A strong south south westerly wind was blowing in from the sea, straight into our faces. The pace slowed down to 5 minutes per kilometre, and it never picked up after that.

Pity. It was a beautiful route. We set off close to the city centre, turned left, in front of "my" hotel, right and left again along a long road towards the coast. We entered the industrial district and then the coast road. Two days later I discovered this to be a spectacular route - during the run I was only concerned with maintaining the pace, also by sheltering behind other runners.

We followed the coast road back into the mouth of the river Douro, approaching the popular wharf (the Ribeira) close to the landmark Luis I bridge. This was at about 19 km, and by this stage I had given up on checking the time splits. They were consistently slower than my target pace and I thought, why stress myself? Looking at the watch was only causing discouragement, so I concentrated on catching up rivals and going as far as possible before being caught by the Catcher car.

We crossed the bridge towards the Gaia side of the river and kept going along the river bank, again approaching the Atlantic coast. The route profile on the event website had mentioned a sharp uphill at 21 km. I braced myself for this, but it never arrived! Finally, at about 24 km there was a hill of sorts, rather steep in fact, but it was over after a couple of minutes or so.

25 km.

Straight into a fierce wind from the Atlantic. We had already heard the cacophony of the Catcher car from the other side of the river. The rate of approach of this car relative to my pace was 4 kph, but the moment you hear it, even from afar, you think, I'm doomed. I was tired and the wind made it much worse.

26 km.

By this stage it was difficult even to keep on running. Last year in Ypres I was caught at 28.3 km, and the target this year was to beat that distance. Now, I didn't care and I just wanted to be caught and to stop.

27 km.

A final effort and I would actually beat my target! Then I heard the cacophony coming up from behind, and none too soon.

The worst part of this event, and something I hope will be improved in future, is getting back to base at the end of the effort. They have shuttle buses taking runners back from stations placed at intervals of 5 km: at 15 km, 20 km, 25 km and so on. It was bound to happen that I would be "caught" exactly in the middle between two stations. The walk straight into the storm towards the 30 km mark lasted for most of eternity. I barely managed to stop the last bus coming back from 30k. Inside the bus, a caring soul took pity on me and handed me an unused reflective sheet to cover myself during the trip back.

My official result was 27.45 km, quite high up in the general standings in actual fact, but worse than my first Wings for Life in Ypres.

For various reasons. Three weeks earlier I had run a full marathon, from which I had probably not recovered sufficiently. The wind did not help at all, and I probably started too fast. Looking back at my best running performances in the past, quite often they happen when I start at an easy pace. To make matters worse, I helped myself to too hearty a breakfast. Bacon, eggs, sausage, the works.

Ah yes, I almost forgot. I'm yet another year older than I was in Ypres.

Having said all this, Porto was a great experience. I'm more than ever determined now to do all the other Wings for Life locations, including India, Peru, Melbourne, Taiwan, Florida and Niagara Falls. By the current situation, this project will take me up to the age of 86. By then I will be happy even if I don't achieve 28.3 km as I did in 2014 in Ypres...

And now it's 15 marathons! Vienna, 12 April 2015

Two years ago I declared on this blog: that's all folks! That was after the Rotterdam marathon, when I slowed down to a walk for several times during the last 7 km. I reasoned, then, that marathons were taking too much out of me. Then I thought, no, this is not right. It can't be that my last marathon should be a quasi-failure. I'll have another go at a slower pace, without any time pressure, just run all the way from start to finish.

Various mishaps including some injuries, hot weather and a strong bout of demotivation kept me from fulfilling my wish. Then came a landmark Birżebbuġa 5k on a hot and humid August afternoon in Malta, which I barely managed to run through. It was there and then that I decided that I would build up to a marathon. I aimed for Paris on 12 April, but this was fully booked by January, so I had to choose somewhere else... I opted for Vienna on the same date.

Not without further setbacks... during a usually harsh Belgian winter (thankfully, without too much icy conditions) I built up to 3h 17m, which I ran 3 weeks before the marathon. During my taper I ran a 16 km race on the second weekend before last and a 90 minute run in Malta the last weekend before the event. The very last week I felt very sluggish - it was almost as though I had forgotten how to run.

I'm now thinking that a 3 week taper is too long for me. But that's something to consider (maybe) the next time.

I had decided not to look at my watch at any time during the race. I would just run with the flow and take it easy. It's what I did almost throughout. A look at my 5 km splits shows how consistent was my pace:

KM 5	KM 10	KM 15	KM 20	KM 25	KM 30	KM 35	KM 40	KM 42
00:25:29	00:25:46	00:25:39	00:26:15	00:25:49	00:26:33	00:28:05	00:27:56	00:12:44

Quite clearly, weariness struck somewhere between 30 and 33 km, although I didn't realise this at the time. I was determined and happy that I was cruising to an easy 15th marathon finish.

One thing I didn't like about the Vienna marathon was that a relay marathon takes place on exactly the same route at exactly the same time. You don't notice this much except at the handover points, where crowds of runners wait for their companions to show up. During the late stages of the marathon, however, these relay runners do create a problem. Three hours and 35 km into a run, with your leg muscles understandably not at their very best, sprightly upstarts come up from behind, fresh from their doing nothing, and overtake you at breakneck speed. I knew I had started to slow down a bit, but I didn't know whether I was being undertaken by fellow competitors who were doing the marathon like me, or whether it was the relay runners running at their fast 10k pace.

At the 39 km mark my curiosity had the better of me. I was happy with my performance so far, and wanted to estimate my finishing time. 3h 24m. That could well give me a 3h 35m finish, a fantastic time! A minute or so later I realised I had made a bad miscalculation. It was THREE, not two kilometres to go. It was a terrible blow psychologically. I was already bracing myself for a final flourish, only to realise that I still had more than 15 minutes to go!

The long, straight final 2 kilometres were long, straight, slow and never-ending. It was really difficult, and I thought I wouldn't even make 3h 45m. But I did keep running and never even considered slowing down to a walk.

I crossed the finish at 3h 44m 20s net time. Full time is a bit more - the time taken to reach the starting line at the beginning. I had achieved my target by running from start to finish.

As is often the case with these large city marathons, the walk from the finish to the clothes containers was much too long. You're dead on your feet, and all the way you are thinking, over and over, "never again!"

Long distance running permitting during the hot summer months, for my next target I'm very much interested in the Maratona del Lago del Garda - along the banks of the lake with the mountains of the Alps to serve as backdrop...

A long way

In August last year I took part in a 5 km race in Birżebbuġa, Malta, the village where I was born. I was out of shape. Demotivated. Up to a couple of months earlier I had been harbouring the idea of building up to a marathon in October. All such plans were scrapped due to excessive heat and lack of motivation. Too many runs resulted in exhaustion and soaking wet shoes. I gave up. Most races I was doing I was succumbing to a strong urge to slow down to a walk.

There was some motivation, however. A demotivated runner doesn't take part in a race on a hot and humid August afternoon in Malta, at a temperature of 33 Celsius. But, still, I wasn't in great shape, and my target on the day was to run through the 5 km without slowing down to a walk. Just that. Loads of people, beginners, rather overweight chaps and so on actually beat me, but I was happy that I had finished the 5 km run - five kilometres! - without stopping.

It was that day that I decided that I wasn't a spent force yet, and that I would build up to a marathon.

Fast forward by 7 months, during which there were ups and several downs, but the ups prevailed so that today I was able to run for 3 hours, 17 minutes 53 seconds, for approximately 36 kilometres. I took the standard route for my long run, stepping out of the front door armed with energy drink sacs around my waist, vaseline in strategic areas, heavy gloves, contact lenses, but no hand warmers for a change. I headed towards Jezus Eik, then into the Arboretum forest, on to Duisburg in Tervuren, further along country lanes in wide open plains with fields all around, until my watch said 1 hour 37 minutes 30 seconds. At that point I made a 180 degree turn and ran exactly the same route back.

I have to say, I did get tired during the second part, but that's the whole point of running for a long distance. To be able to run a marathon you have to get used to running on tired legs. I tried to distract myself from the tiredness by switching off my mind. At some of the later stages it was a bit like running in a trance. However, I didn't have any particularly difficult moments, and even managed to pick up the pace in the last few minutes. So, overall, it was a very satisfactory longest pre-marathon run.

All I need to do now, in the last 3 weeks before Vienna, is avoid getting injured or catching a cold. I'll keep on training to remain used to the activity running, but without overdoing it. Now in fact the long runs will be much shorter. I should be taking part in a 16 km race in one weeks' time (part of the annual aggregate competition in our Flemish Brabant region) in the same Arboretum environs where I normally do my training. This will be followed by week's normal running, and a slowing down to almost no running in the final week before the big day.

Whatever happens, I've come a long way since that hot and humid August afternoon in Malta.

Vienna, here I come

This morning I did my Wednesday morning long run of 2h30m, for a distance of about 27 to 28 km, in a temperature of 0 to 2 Celsius. I started off from the garden next to the town hall of Hoeilaart, while it was still dark, towards Overijse and back for a total of 10 km (53 minutes), until it became light and I could venture into the forest at Groenendaal and on towards the Foret de Soignes, and then back to the car at Hoeilaart.

The run went exceedingly well, which is why, finally, I decided to place my entry into my next marathon. Paris is long since fully booked, which is a pity, so I'm going to Vienna instead. Let's see how it goes. Many things may still go wrong - injury and illness in particular - but I can't postpone any longer for fear that, after Paris, even this could be fully booked, which would leave me with boring Milan or having to postpone to a different date.

I could also get fed up of running very long distances, but now I've committed myself I have to, somehow, go up to the required distance. Snow and ice permitting... i.e. yet something else which could disrupt my build-up.

But let's not concentrate on what may go wrong. I'm happy right now, because things are going according to plan, my running form is good, and even the weather is cooperating.