Fartlek is a word which still, at the aging age of approaching 46, I find funny. Makes me smirk – it’s my boy humour. However, do it properly and all bets are off. Smirks are replaced by grimaces, car drivers thinking you are either sprinting for Olympic Gold or asking themselves as to why you are near walking and what are you doing in the middle of nowhere?
Sometimes I get confused in remembering the difference between ‘anaerobic’ and ‘aerobic’ – try out the former and you soon remember. The pain, the empty lungs, the sweat, the challenge, the tired legs and not forgetting the big question: ‘Is this all worth it?’
Fartlek = Speed play – work hard, recover quick. Repeat until…. I’m convinced someone keeps increasing the distance between those telegraph poles. Jog one. Fast one, faster one, sprint one. Jog one…. 6 miles of it.
My Canmore buddy Peter is also training for a pedal jaunt in the UK – well, hardly a jaunt: Lands End – John o’ Groats race. We have become virtual training partners which is a great incentive, as if one slacks you know darn well that the other will make your guilty life even more miserable than it already is. Training is certainly ‘all pain, no gain’ mentality – if you don’t put the time in, then the body can’t perform on the day. But it’s also about being kicked up the backside by those you love and respect and an interest shown in what you are doing. All runners of all shapes and sizes spend hours pounding the road or trail, or running machine and someone egging you on is a necessary evil.
I’ve been following Bryan in South Shields in his attempt to break the four hour marathon. Stubborn bugger and all power to him on Barcelona marathon day. May your commitment and home made energy gels power you across that finish line! Then there is Kevin in Wells – a rower in his time, but loves running. Taken up ‘hashing’ in his local area and loves it. So does his dog. But he keeps adding miles to his shoe soles, determined to be better in the next race. Peter in Spain – a former runner and skier, now a committed hiker in his local hills. His blog brings his local stories and jaunts alive – it feeds my imagination.
You guys keep me training, and its amazing the strength it gives me when I lace up my shoes to step out into the frigid air. Thanks. When is Spring? -10C this morning and a fierce northerly.
I won’t unfortunately get a training session in with Peter before Natasha and I depart for the UK next month as winter still has its grips on the roads. Ice and skinny tyres don’t mix well… but hopefully we can hit the gym the morning of our flight, as we stay over with him the night before we fly. Kevin has promised me a pasting across the Dorset Downs, meeting at Hardy's Monument, 10am on the 16th: 12 miles, Tim, he says. 6 miles down to the sea, and 6 miles back up. Bring it on! Bryan will have done his marathon so doubtless we will just sit, drink beer (migraine pills easy to hand, of course) and shoot the breeze. Natasha’s parents have just moved to Penrith, so the thought of running the mountain trails in the Lake District is akin to Bonny and Tasky waiting to be given their bone.
I love it. Power to you all. I hit my half way training point today – its been ‘easy’ up to now, but next week the serious work begins. Natasha continues to encourage - thanks love!
Tim
