Running Legs Returning.

(Standard 10k run - not on flat, 330ft vertical)

10k run – almost 9 minutes faster than the previous effort at 50’05”. Intended to run yesterday but got caught up in travelling and entertaining guests. Suspect that it worked out well having two days of full recovery from the bike race – my legs felt it more on the second day off. Unusually I even felt a slight amount of DOMS (Delayed Onset of Muscle Soreness) which usually doesn’t happen in even very hard cycling.

This is the first time since returning to running recently that I actually felt like I was running. Still another 8 or 9 minutes to drop to return to my previous best form – but I don’t see that happening unless I lose a similar number of kilos of fat. No doubt that such a dramatic increase of pace will give me another significant DOMS tomorrow. Tried to run with mostly mid-foot landing and working on all the positive aspects of mechanics – allowing the leg to stretch a little behind, lifting the heel high, ankle loose, pulling knee forwards with foot directly behind, dropping the foot down vertically to land/strike, keeping the center of mass slightly forwards (falling), tensing lower abdomen (protecting back), avoiding over-reaching with the stride even on the descents – compensating by increasing cadence. Used standard trail running shoes with cushioning. Didn’t run at all with forefoot strike this time – although it feels good when I do it over short distances , I have to make that change a very long term goal.

Feel s like the bike race really helped to blow away some cobwebs. I found myself wanting to accelerate and push hard when running – just like in competition on the bike. It’s easy to see how you just get stale training on your own. Competition seems to activate some sort of unconscious drive and leave it switched on for a while.

La Route Des Helviens

La Route Des Helviens

Barjac, 30490

No way I could miss this opportunity for my first competition of the year. The theme of the route is based on an old celtic supply route surrounded by Roman forts built by Antonine. I grew up in Scotland right next to the famous Antonine’s wall, dividing Scotland in two, and it was my favourite play site as a kid. Definitely the sort of inspiration that would get me started early for the season.

I set of rather late on Saturday night for the 333km drive, but fortunately the roads were empty and the GPS worked perfectly – so I was in Barjac by 1:30am Sunday morning and five minutes later found the car park next to the race organisation. Rapidly settling in to sleep in the van I was disturbed by large drops of water falling off the trees above the van. It was raining and the weather was pretty bad, but the drops that fall off the trees are much bigger so they hit the metal of the van with a bang. I decided that it was such a regular rhythm that I’d soon become oblivious to it – which I did. It was still difficult to sleep after driving so hard but that paled into insignificance when at 4am some moron pulled into the car park with a mobile discotech in his car and parked right alongside me. I sincerely hope he permanently damaged his ears so that they match his retarded brain in level of dysfunction. The car park was full of camper vans with people sleeping so there was no excuse in such a quiet out-of-the-way town. Fortunately his display of Saturday night drunken stupidity didn’t last too long, so I slept. At 7:20am I was already awake, but with a headache and dodgy stomach. Public toilets next to the car park confirmed my worst fears – perhaps it was a reaction to carbohydrate loading the day before. I suspect that I have an intolerance for wheat in large quantities and I had stuffed myself with pasta the day before. It could also be a lingering virus that has bugged me since February – still giving a bit of a sore throat. However I didn’t feel good at all and as it was already raining again and with dark clouds on the horizon it was tempting to just bail out there and then. Regardless of all this, I felt caught up in the event and put all the negative stuff out of my head. It was to be a late start at 9:45am so there was plenty of time to register for the race, attach the numbers to bike and shirt, decide what clothing to wear and make last minute adjustments to the bike, and of course have breakfast. I cooked some porridge to warm myself up and obtained a coffee nearby – supplied by the course organisers.

The weather forecast was simply bad, so I put on a thermal tee shirt underneath my cycling shirt and then added a thin wind and waterproof jacket – transparent so that my shirt number could be seen. The rest was normal, shorts and thin shoes but no waterproof protection. At the race start I was surprised to see that I was the only one starting with a jacket on – yet the clouds were ominously black and it was already spitting rain. I had done a brief warm up, but was more concerned about conserving energy than warming up so I only spent ten minutes at this. The problem is that if you can’t keep up with the peloton at the start then you are going to lose a lot more energy riding on you own against the wind later on – so you do need to be warmed up as they always go like the clappers at the start. Not only was I the only one wearing a jacket but I was the only one visible who didn’t have shaved legs! This was a very serious bunch of competitors and I just had to laugh to myself at the situation – what was I doing here? The race was going to be 119 kilometers with some steep 12%+ climbing and in training my legs were consistently giving up at around 80km – even when taking it easy in the mountains. I was definitely relying on the relative rest taken in the week precedent and the carbo loading efforts, plus the competitive rush that takes over in such situations. I could feel the adrenalin already in the line up at the start. The date was 8th may and my only objective for the day was to survive. Limited training so early on in the season made even this objective seem out of reach. It’s one thing slowly notching up the miles on a day touring, but when racing hard your legs have a tendency to rebel and stop working when they’ve had enough and I knew that my legs were tired and not really recovered enough from training for a race.

At the start I was immediately confronted with uncooperative legs, a stomach still full of porridge and a desire to conserve energy so as to try to go the full distance. Within minutes, despite all of this my heart rate was close to max at 174bpm (last year I thought this was over my max – which I now know to be 183). Within 10 minutes the group had split in two and predictably I was at the back of the second group. The start was a long climb so it wasn’t surprising that this was happening. Now it was time for the rain. Not normal rain – a torrential curtain of rain. Suddenly I discovered why pros don’t wear eye protection in bad weather – you can’t see a damned thing through them. I definitely got it right with the jacket! After about 20 minutes there was quite a gap between the groups, but we came to the end of the climb and so the gap started to go down a bit and it looked almost like we could catch up again. About 30 minutes into the race my legs started to feel a little better and so I moved to the front of the group and decided to use my leg strength to close that gap. When I accelerated it worked because the group stuck to me. Half way there someone else shouted to me to ease off the pace so he went in front and finished the job. Great – we were back - unfortunately, just in time for the next climb – so we were all left behind again. Following this climb I found myself on my own for a good long stretch. I was convinced that I was last and felt slightly discouraged at the thought of battling the rest of the way on my own against torrential rain and high winds in steep hilly countryside that I didn’t know. I had no map, money or telephone so the course organisers had better do a good job. Out of the blue (grey) a group of eight riders came from behind me and I gratefully joined forces with them. Impossible to see any of the Ardeche courtryside with its stunning vineyards, rocks and Roman remains. All that was visible was a wall of rain, cloud and spray from the wheels of others. When you slipstream behind someone in the wet you get a shower straight in the face from the back tyre – and there is nothing you can do about it. I concentrated on slipstreaming, saving energy, pedalling less and keeping my cadence down when possible. We came around one turn where I noticed two giant wind turbines in the trees and mist – totally stationary – in fact they were the only things stationary in the storm. That seemed bizarrely ironic to me – perhaps they don’t work in the rain. In fact I seldom see those things turn anywhere. Somebody must just collect government subsidies, tax incentives and kickbacks then just leave the stupid things standing idle. We had passed 60km in under 2 hours so the pace was quite good considering the conditions. Descents were extremely hazardous, partly because the water forms a layer on the wheel rims and quite often the brakes seem to fail almost completely. I chose not to take any risks and kept my speed right down on the descents. I only saw one wreck at the side of the road with a couple of riders being attended to. At around 65km we were caught by a stronger rider who had recovered from an earlier puncture – then predictably he moved ahead and caused a split in our group. Three of us were slightly taken by surprise and left behind. I couldn’t react because the split happened on a long gradual climb and just at that moment I took cramp in the upper quads of both legs. I was worried that my legs were packing up for the day. I had read about how cramps mostly hit muscles that serve two joints – one at each end – which in this case would be the knee and the hip. With this in mind I stood up on the pedals to lengthen the quads and it worked – the cramp went. In fact I only felt it again slightly and briefly about an hour later. Within no time the split was 200 meters and growing. We were on the flat again so I decided to take a risk with my legs having just cramped and to use my power to close that gap. I went for it and only one other came with me, a blond haired guy, and when we got to the other group he thanked me for it. Our group had been the last to start that morning. There were 4 separate starts. There were two distances, 119km and 160km and two age groups under 50 and over 50. Each of the four categories started separately with about equal numbers and I was in the last – Over 119km for over 50s. There was one great advantage of this situation – it was the “tortoise and hare” effect. Slowly but surely my group started to pass all sorts of individuals – about every 5km from the start there had been a tyre puncture. I tried to look at the tyre each time we passed one and nearly all seemed to be French Michelin Pro 3 Race tyres. My tyres are German Continental GP4000S and use nanotechnology – better grip in the wet, better longevity (7x) and puncture resistance and less rolling resistance. More and more we were picking off “tail end Charlies” who had burned out by now – having probably started off too hard. This was precisely what I had been worried about happening to myself – but so far so good, the legs were holding up. In fact after about an hour the legs started to feel relatively good so I did a few stints to pulling at the front, which of course I soon regretted. You do feel like a bit of a leech sitting at the back all the time though, so if you feel good you have to go to the front, even for a short while, it makes a difference even if only to your sense of self-respect.

Around about 3 hours into the race we reached the steep climb de Mont Bouquet. Our constantly evolving and reforming group of between 6 to 8 was about to disintegrate for good. I found myself on my own, having left the blond haired guy behind who had been with me nearly all the way so far. The climb didn’t seem all that hard but at around the 80km mark the legs get tired. It seemed to get steeper near the top and it became a bit of a grind, with lashing rain and now riding directly in the clouds themselves. I tried to go down a gear only to find myself already in bottom gear – which in my setup is LOW – 34 front, 28 rear. Perhaps the hill was steeper than it looked. Right at the top of the climb I heard a voice and alongside me was the blond guy – he had managed to hang on all the way up – about 7km. This was good news because there was no one else visible behind and it meant that we could work together for the remaining 40km. There were two other riders just visible ahead but we just didn’t have the energy to chase them. The blond was a very good descender even in the wet, but told me he was taking it easy because last year he broke his collar bone and a few other bits in a very serious fall. He remarked that neither of us had much in the legs for the climb and that we had been together since the start – he told me his age – 63! (His race number was 50). He started cycling at age 23 and living in Lyon he can cycle all year round. Telling him that I’m 51 had the strange effect of making me feel embarrassingly young.

Having company on the 40km return stretch certainly made it seem much shorter. He was fast on the descents and I did some pulling from the front on the hills, but overall he was stronger. I began to believe that I’d get to the finish today without any major defiance of the legs. 119km is the longest distance I’ve ever raced so far and my fitness level is not that great after a winter of relative “aerobic” inactivity and avid Tartiflette eating. In fact my biggest problem on the hills is the 7kg of weight I put on over winter. Weight really counts in climbing. 6km from the end were suddenly surprised buy a fast moving train of 8 riders who came up fast behind us, so we both accelerated and got in the slipstream. There was no way to let the opportunity slip, but the idea of an easy ride to the finish was over – now it was a race again. Our speed went up to about 35km again and my overall heart rate climbed back up to levels that it had not managed for the whole last hour, but to my surprise the end was right in front of us before I realised. I didn’t race the others over the line – I was just glad to get there. When I got off the bike I could still walk, the legs didn’t feel too bad compared to other races and I can only put that down to the carbo loading. During the 4hrs 15mins of the race I drank only one and a half bottles of sports drink – I just cannot consume while working hard. It was even an effort to make myself drink that much.

After the race I stripped off all the sodding clothing in the van. The heavy rain had continued for 4 hours and only the last 15 minutes were relatively dry. I was surprised that I enjoyed riding in such conditions – the rain didn’t bother me. I wasn’t cold despite the air temperature being about 13°C. The feet got a bit cold but not too bad. It seems that working so hard compensates for the cold. Talking to an experienced competitor later he told me that He’d never raced in such conditions in his life – I wasn’t surprised. It was definitely an experience. The Canyon.com bike was great and the narrow SLR XP Italia seat did not hurt at all – I didn’t even think about it once – and there was no back pain or discomfort. I put all of that down to good bike fitting and geometry. The after-race meal was exceptional, very good quality and (except the desert) all organic produce; Normally the food at such events is inedible but here it was great. I was very tired, hungry and irritable by the time I sat down to eat. My head felt “thick” and slightly headachy which I put down to low blood sugar. It took about 5 hours before that passed completely. All in all, a very satisfying experience and good training for the next race. There is no way you can train like this outside of competition. Competition itself is the best training. Last year my first race was in August so to start on May 8th is new territory – and to have completed it successfully is a real confidence boost. I’d have been happy just finishing but my placing was 121st overall out of 147 and 33rd in my age group - a result I'm more than happy with considering all the circumstances.

The steadily declining heart rate on the graph shows that I was working beyond a sustainable aerobic level throughout. When running I normally see a "drift" in the other direction, with the heart rate slowly climbing during the session - this being normal "drift". In the bike race it is so important to be able to stay with a group that you have to be prepared to risk working at levels that are perhaps not sustainable - to gain what advantages you can get in time from slipstreaming withing the group. Groups go much faster. You don't really get this effect in running as air resistance is not such a concern.

(link to GPS recorded route and profile. If you have Google earth istalled then from here you can simply download the Googel earth file and automatically have it display on your computer. On the left hand panel under "places" open up the Barjac folder and click on the bottom icon - this will then give you a control bar (at the bottom of this window) and you get to do a 3D ariel fly-through of the course)

Mountain Biking

Mountain biking today for the first time this year.


Picked a bad day though. The temperature was about 17°C when I started at around 4:30 pm at 700m altitude . The climb was a local one of 600m and giving that temperature drops by 6.5°C per 1000m that means a 4°C drop in temperature by the top of the climb. During the hour I took to climb there was also unknown to me at the time a 4°C drop in temperature at the bottom – due to a rapid change in weather. So when the rain started at the top – as it did – it was only about +9°C and I was in shorts and thin cycling top with fingerless gloves – not ideal. The rain caused me to bail out of the off-road descent that I’d been looking forward to – it would have been too slippy and dangerous.

(The video clip is just the on road descent through the villages - nothing exciting but shows what the scenery is like a bit.)

Took it easy as I was trying to conserve energy for a possible race on Sunday which has a lot of climbing – thus didn’t want to tire the legs too much. The mountain bike feels incredibly heavy since getting used to the 6.7kg Canyon racer. It’s at least three times that weight, but it’s still fun to climb with and brilliantly stable on the descent. Just replaced the back tyre with a 2.3in tubeless freeride tyre. I have a 2.5 heavy duty downhill tyre on the front but the frame on the back won’t take such a big tyre. The extra weight of the downhill tyre makes it fantastic on the rough and steep descents and the big knobbles on the surface of the back tyre make it great for off-road climbing where traction in the shale and grit are more important issues than weight. The mountain bike has the UK set up of back brake on the left and front brake on the right – opposite from the racing bike – it’s easy to get confused! Was disappointed at having to descend on the road to get out of the cold and wet, but was glad to have contact with the old mountain bike again.

Recovery Week

Recovery week this week. Body was getting tired with the new general level of training. Notably a gland in my throat was swollen, legs were tired and right foot (plantar fascia) felt a bit too tender. All those signs together send out the message “Time to rest and recover!” – which is where of course the real benefit of training is gained. Add to all of this constant waves of bad weather sweeping in from the Atlantic – with the greatest snow precipitation at altitude for the entire season (still open at Tignes – but miserable) plus time needed to clean up my VW Transporter after a tough winter – then training has taken a back seat for a spell.

Still getting signs of virus (throat) which all started mid February. I guess that’s the nature of flu – it can linger in your system for a long time. I had a very bad attack of flu several years ago and it completely wiped me out physically for 6 months. I appeared to overcome the trouble by forcing myself to exercise in spite of the deep feeling of fatigue. That incident taught me not to abandon training in the face of viral attacks – but to keep some training going. From what I read it’s also important not to over do it with a virus as that can lead to permanent damage. It seems that very little is really known about such things.

No Pain Day

No pain in the legs today - they feel quite good. The calves held up to the 1.4km of forefoot striking and there is no sign of DOMS anywhere. Can feel the plantar fascia (big tendon under the foot attaching at the heel) of the right foot, but it is not really a pain - just a bit sensitive - so I need to take care that the heel striking doesn't cause it to degenerate again. I think that 10k runs in soft shoes should be ok - especially if I can gradually increase the proportion of forefoot striking.

The weather has improved today - seems that the rain came down just to wash out our day around lake Geneva.

Back to Heel Strike

Sunday May 2nd

Had planned for a 180km bicycle ride around Lake Leman (Geneva) but the weather turned bad so it was cancelled.

The calve muscles felt good so I decided to go for a 10km run in the light rain. Temperature had dropped from 25 to 30°C during the week to around 10°C so warmer protective clothing was called for.

Started out OK as it is a descent from the flat down to the river Isère, but as I attacked the gentle upward gradient of the path along the Isère this pace reduced to a completely unenthusiastic slow jog. I used normal Adidas Goretex trail running shoes with good heel cushioning, because I intended to use a heel strike so as to spare the calve muscles this time. Shortly before reaching the 5km turnaround point I started feeling better and picked up the pace a little. It felt slightly odd going back to using a heel strike and I had to remain attentive for any signs of plantar fasciitis returning. I did notice slight stress on the inside of the left knee – which I don’t feel when using a forefoot strike – this is the knee I tore apart in a twisting skiing accident many years ago – it never had surgery ( at least for that particular injury). After the 5km point I picked up the pace even more – it seemed like the muscles had warmed up and the running became much more enjoyable. The usual feelings of mental alertness, positive attitude, slight euphoria etc were all there. I thought up at least one new invention – something that happens every time I go for a run!

The final 1.4km I went back to the forefoot strike. It felt incredible to change technique so much in the middle of a run – a whole different set of muscles and coordination kicked in straight away. I can’t say which is best – just different. The idea is to see if this amount of forefoot striking will give the calves a better chance to adapt. If this is still too much I’ll reduce it next time. It felt OK when running, but I’ll see if the calves have the DOMS (Delayed Onset of Muscle Soreness) in the morning. Will do exercises for the calves (eccentric dips) on days when I’m not running. Interestingly the muscle differences I feel when changing the foot strike are mostly in the feet, ankles and the shins (anterior tibialis) and not in the calves. It might be the calves that wear out fast but the other muscles attract your attention more. It’s a nice feeling to have those muscles (all in the “front” of the foot and lower leg) active – they feel like stabilisers or more reflexive which might explain why they don’t wear out like the calves do.

This is another advantage of cross training – bad weather options. Today would not have been nice on a bike but it was very nice for running.

Cross Training

Wednesday 28th April

2000m vertical on the bike today – and 80km distance. Went slow to ensure the legs would last. They were tired from the running problems. Despite the calves being almost too sore to walk with there was no pain at all on the bike. This is why cross training is so good.

The sky was blue and it was warm all the way – great weather but not to last apparently so it is important to make the most of it. Took some photos today with my crap LG telephone camera but didn’t manage to get the max resolution set up correctly. Might get a clone “Iphone” from China for 100 dollars (Would never buy any Apple crap – even Adobe is dumping them due to restrictive practices – YES!!!!).

Legs still started to hurt after about 4 hours – don’t know if it’s the distance, amount of climbing or time itself that has the largest impact on the legs. Was drinking and ingesting carbs.

This is a view of Hautecoeur, a beauty spot hidden above Moutiers at 1200m altitude. Moutiers is at the bottom of a direct descent to 500m altitude.

Have decided to persist with the forefoot strike in running despite the pain it generates in the calves. It just feels right. Several times since age 18 I’ve flipped over on my ankle when running, badly spraining the ligaments and I’m certain this due to heel striking. Landing on the forefoot definitely stabilises the entire foot/ankle structure and feels much safer. The foot has 26 bones (more than ¼ of the body’s bones are in the feet), 33 joints and over 100 muscles, tendons and ligaments. It seems like we try our best to forget about our feet instead of learn about them. Jean Claude Killy was quoted, when asked why he was the best skier of his epoch, saying, “It’s the intelligence of the feet”. Thick cushioned soles and heel striking appear to deny this intelligence in running. This is certainly the case in skiing where people are often clamped into tight fitting boots with orthotic footbeds and even foam injected liners. Skiing is much better when the feet can move and make shapes, using the muscles actively. Yes, I teach the use of heel pressure, rocking of the sub-taler joint to roll the feet, but only as an elementary phase. Once you know how to make an active arch with your feet muscles, strengthening the ankle support and strongly working the anterior tibialis muscle up the outside of the lower leg, then with the heel slightly off the deck the control is much better. I notice that it is popular to refer to “riding” skis now. Real skiers don’t ride skis, the ski is part of their body. They ski! Only morons “ride” skis – so, yes that does include all BASI trainers! (Enough ranting though.) It would seem that rather than take forever for the calves to either adapt to this way of running, or to get injured, a program of strengthening might be more appropriate. I’m going to try to use “heel dips” to try to get the calves more robust. This requires standing on a step and letting a heel drop down towards the ground and raising it back up to neutral. It is an eccentric contraction – just like running itself, but not with an impact. Meanwhile I’ll do some running with thicker heeled shoes than my low profile Mizunos and accept the heel strike until the calves are stronger – just using forefoot striking over reduced distances to build up gradually. I did spend an entire nine months patiently trying to adapt the calves through running itself but it didn’t work and that’s why I went back to the heel strike. Initially I blamed the heel strike for the injury that sidelined my running all winter but on reflection I think it was due to dramatically increasing running mileage as winter set in and cycling became impossible. I went from almost nothing up to running 20k several times a week.

Why do both running and cycling? Well when Lance Armstrong retired from cycling he started marathon running. In his first marathon he ended up with stress fractures in his tibia. It appears that there is a direct correlation between leg bone density and training mileage for runners. If you train a high mileage for years then your legs will have a high bone density and strength due to the impact of running. Armstrong probably didn’t have this accumulated level of protection. I’ve seen legs blown apart in skiing and I definitely advocate good leg bone density – so running is useful. Armstrong by the way did his second marathon in an amazing 2hrs 46mins which for any “non runner” is amazing. Runners and cross country skiers have higher aerobic fitness than any other sports because the entire body is used, including arms and torso. I noticed my resting heart rate was clearly lower when my running levels were up and the opposite when running levels were down and cycling up. There is then a clear advantage in cross training.

Discovered the car of my dreams on this workout - near Notre Dame du Pré.

Running into trouble!

26 April 2010

First 10k run since the 5 month injury layoff. VERY SLOW – 58’48”. The legs had plenty of energy but sticking with a forefoot strike made for sore calf muscles right from the start. When this happens it’s impossible to increase pace. I tried the “soft ankle” advice but it actually seemed to worsen the contraction of the calves. There seems to be a lot to this process. When the ankle is soft – as I interpret it – the foot tends to flick back at the end of the stride and this causes an even greater contraction and subsequently more pain on the next contact with the ground. The best result seemed to be when the focus was on pulling the leg forward from the hip, keeping the foot high up behind the knee and bringing the knee forward. Focusing on this seemed to make a more natural forefoot strike and generate less pain.

It’s so tempting to go back to a heel strike but last time I did that it led to 5 months of injury under the foot. You can feel how the forefoot strike activates all the upper foot muscles by reflex – and it’s a good feeling – very much like can be done in Alpine skiing with skillful use of the feet. Shame about the calves protesting so much. They don’t feel injured though – just hammered – so perhaps they will adapt. I’m using low profile Mizuno Rhonin lightweight shoes which have very little cushioning and help to make it easy to land on the forefoot. There is still a ramp angle in the shoe and you have to wonder if trying to land a shoe on the forefoot is bound to stress the calf too much just because of this additional ramp angle. Perhaps this is why there are barefoot running enthusiasts. There is so little knowledge out there on this subject. Even the studies I’ve read about don’t appear to take this ramp angle into account. They report 84% of elite marathon runners landing midfoot – but if you subtract the shoe ramp angle that puts them clearly all on their forefoot. I find that if I try to a land midfoot it’s a slippery slope to landing on the heel again and even midfoot I can’t feel the protective foot muscles being activated - same as in skiing.

Ran the usual course alongside the Isère river on the Aime/Bourg cycle path. It was raining but there were a few others out running and a few early season canoeists on the rapids. Yesterday’s tough day on the bike didn’t seem to have much effect on the legs. I know now that the main difference between running and cycling is that running causes “eccentric contraction” of the muscles in the legs – that is the muscles contract while extending at the same time. This is what causes the pain in the calves and the “DOMS (Delayed Onset of Muscle Soreness) when increasing your workout distance or speed. It’s odd that cycling is usually prescribed as an exercise for skiing and running isn't. The eccentric action of running is much closer to” flexing under load” that happens in Alpine skiing. Anyway it’s good both run and cycle as they really do work the muscles differently and running ensures good maintenance of bone density and bone strength. I can feel that skiing and cycling alone leave you with quads and thighs that are strong but very inflexible. This is a problem when running with a forefoot strike as the leg has to extend further behind and this requires flexibility at the hip which is definitely compromised in cycling and skiing. Time to get working on stretching the hips out.

Col de Tamie

Sunday 25th April

Chris called this morning suggesting a long workout on the bike. Impossible to say no, my immediate response was to make a pot of filter coffee to try to wake up properly. It was actually about 10:30, but the tiredness was due to still recovering from the last monster workout on Thursday. My Canyon.com bike is white. I had wanted to order a mat black carbon one due to it being even lighter but they were out of stock so I ended up with white. Disappointment soon vanished because the white looks great and of course now I could upgrade to wearing loads of white gear to look really professional on the bike. This did not slip past Chris unnoticed and provoked a suitable and well deserved commentary when he arrived. All through this I was doing my best to hide my belly which hopefully will not be an issue several weeks from now.

Today’s objective was the Col de Tamie circuit, Chris starting in Bourg St Maurice and connecting with me at Aime. The route is here: http://www.gpsies.com/map.do?fileId=emhdsltbkonmmqgb

From the outset my legs felt tired but OK for a moderate pace. We started out pretty easily and it was just a steady pace on to Aigueblanche until we noticed that a mountainbiker had tagged along with us. This of course is an emergency situation. Every mountain-biker out there wants to think that he can beat the road rats and they will often go all out to prove it (put me on a mountain bike and I’d do the same). Conversation dropped to a minimum and Chris started to pull a bit harder. I’m of course being towed myself due to not feeling too great and the mountain bike is drafting behind me. The mountain-biker was a young lad and the bike was set up for the road with skinny tyres, so it isn’t that much different from a road bike in performance on the flat. When Chris started showing signs of tiredness by slowing slightly against the strong headwind I decided to do my part and take over in front. To my surprise it wasn’t too bad and I could keep up quite a strong pace for a while, giving Chris time to recover. The mountain biker was still hanging on but panting strongly by now. This process continued for a while until Chris decided to really put the pressure on up a long incline. It was hard work holding on to his wheel even though he was taking the headwind full on, but the mountainbiker was still there, panting harder than ever now. He was getting his free tow into Albertville but at least we were making him work for it. I turned round to wave to him as we parted company after 20km in Albertville and as he returned the wave he looked pretty whacked out – but for us it was still only the beginning of our self imposed torture.

A brief passage through the town saw us ready to climb the Col de Tamie which is about a 500m climb but on a wide and not too steep road. At about 4km from the top I just let Chris disappear ahead. I don’t know if I was capable of a higher pace or if it was just an unconscious decision to preserve some energy for the long day still ahead, but my pace was much lower than I would normally climb. Chris probably had two or three minutes to wait for me at the top, but as there is a fountain for drinking water it was a good place for a pit stop anyway prior to the descent to Faverge on the other side of the col towards Annecy.

At Faverge we stopped for a sandwich and drinks at a small bar. This is the best part of the long outings – getting to stop for lunch. It’s amazing how the legs recover when you have a break. The weather was holding up and it was getting warm. I’d just descended the col in a tee shirt and didn’t feel cold even though it is a north facing descent. It’s this climate that makes cycling around the Alpine countryside so pleasant. It’s still only April but it’s hot. My new Nakamura white shorts were performing really well. The layered gel pads were protecting the bones of my bottom very well so I felt much less discomfort than usual. The shorts were not expensive – only 49 euros, but Nakamura seem to be breaking new ground with technology all the time and give great value. My helmet is also Nakamura – very lightweight and instead of the usual polystyrene it is made of deformable polyurethane, making it more compact and durable as well as lighter and inexpensive. My carbon racing shoes from Decathlon weigh in at only 290 grams each and have proved to be great value also. It’s pretty clear that the big stores are now making products of their own that can match expensive brand names very closely.

The return from Faverge began on the impressive cycle path which goes from Ugine to Annecy. At Ugine we took the empty road alongside the dual carriageway and eventually crossed a bridge and soon found the continuation of the cycle path into Albertville. I was a little worried about whether or not my legs would hold out as there were some signs of deep pain starting to develop. The return up the valley from Albertville is a progressive climb from 350m altitude up to 500m at Moutiers, but this doesn’t count a few steep climbs and descents along the way. There is a vicious climb just before Aigueblanche and I was resigned to letting Chris go and finding him waiting at the top as usual. This time though when the climb kicked off I just looked down at the ground and kept my eye on his back wheel. The effect was weird, it’s like the climb seemed to disappear. I was managing to hold on to Chris on the climb, but then at one point I looked up and saw it was getting even steeper. This sent a wave of anxiety through me with inner voices all chorusing “slow down” together. Immediately I looked down again and felt comfortable again. I knew when the top was approaching because Chris started his usual mountain top acceleration but by this time I knew I could last out the distance. Right at the top I glanced and my heart rate monitor and saw 183 registered. This pretty much confirmed for me that 183 is my max heart rate on a bike – a figure I’ve been trying to ascertain for some time now. I’m pretty sure that Chris was slowing down due to tiredness from doing the vast majority of the pulling in front, and that I was spared a lot on the return journey by drafting, even though wind was not so much of an issue this time. Still, I had absolutely not anticipated being able to work the legs hard towards the end of this trip, so it was a very good feeling. The effect from looking at the ground was pretty clearly a case of being “in the present moment” and not thinking ahead. This state allows you to just concentrate on your effort and not to be overwhelmed by the size of the task ahead. There were several more climbs up to 700m at Aime and Chris dragged every last drop of performance out of me. When we approached Aime I had an attack of the “channels” and basically had to call a stop there. The “channels” is a naval term for a condition experienced by seamen who have been sailing the world’s oceans and happen to be passing through the English Channel. They experience an overwhelming desire to get off the boat and return home. By law the ship’s captain must permit the seaman to leave. By law Chris had to let me leave this ship and return home in Aime. Chris still had to climb up to Maçot and then on to Bourg, about another 30 minutes altogether, but I was well and truly done. Total distance was 128km with 1425m climbing and 5100 calories burned.

There was a moment shortly after stopping when I was drinking water that I found difficulty breathing in. This isn’t like asthma which causes trouble breathing out – but it’s an unpleasant feeling which I only had once last year after a hill climb race. It passed over quite quickly but I need to look into what the cause is.

Getting started again with Summer training

Off-season training (or madness depending on your view point) is now in full swing – encouraged by that great big friendly nuclear fusion furnace in the sky.

Running commenced after an enforced 5 month break due to “plantar fasciitis” – basically a swollen tendon under the foot. Seems like a silly injury but it’s really inconvenient – I mean trying to ski every day with a sharp pain directly under your right heel is not much fun. Winter running was totally out of the question so there were no days this year of sweating profusely into thermal insulation, rendering it sodden and ultimately frozen. Perhaps I’ll try to get plantar fasciitis next year too. This also delayed the temptation to buy a massive and expensive indoor running machine, subsequently permitting the deviation of funds towards a MUCH better carbon bike! Who said anything about “saving”?

Used the “pose” technique for running – forefoot strike and keeping the centre of mass above or ahead of the feet. This still feels a bit unnatural for me – a reformed heel striker – but there was no pain and a great feeling of freedom and speed from the first time out. Payback however is swift – calf muscles descending into “doms” (delayed onset of muscle soreness) rather rapidly.

Main plus is that the foot is healed and as I suspect that an attempted return to using a slight heel strike caused the injury last year I’ll be avoiding that totally for the time being. Have just learned that a key to avoiding calf pain when using a forefoot strike is to keep the ankle soft and avoid reaching downwards with the forefoot and contracting the calf prior to ground contact. I’ll work on that.

Well, all the high mountain passes are still closed for snow, but at +27°C in the valleys it is impossible to keep the bike indoors and unused. Let the real torture begin...

Actually, the cycle training began sporadically a month earlier in March. My first climb up the local mountain climb time trial was a horrendous affair, commencing with a greasy chorizo pizza as a pre-workout snack. Bad start! Two attempts later and the body had somehow switched back to “normal” and the 45minute climb was now a 35 minute climb. It’s amazing how fitness returns so quickly. Ok, I did ski all winter but honestly skiing makes you fat and lazy. More energy is spent eating Tartiflettes than skiing with or teaching clients. This was however a good time to ease back into more serious exercise, but one troubling issue was coming to the fore consistently now. My heart rate was “spiking” at up to 212 bpm – which is a bit worrying – especially as one family member recently suffered a minor heart attack and both parents are dead from the same cause (heavy smokers). Even more troubling was the heart was spiking during descents – when it should be resting and the signs were consistent. There was no signal dropout from the digital chest transmitter. I was using contact gel for the electrodes and all the equipment appeared good. Older analogue equipment just has complete dropout or lockup at a fixed frequency if there is a tech problem, so the signs were a bit troubling here. In the end I discovered the problem was due to a loose chest strap – as simple as that. Once the strap was tightened all the weird reading s stopped and that included my heart rate lowering as effort reached a maximum – very weird! One useful thing came out of all of this. Until now I had believed that a formula had to be used to determine maximum heart rate and that it should be something resembling 220-age. I knew that there are many different versions of this formula but it seemed that aging produced an inevitable drop in max heart rate. When going through my panic I stumbled upon a website by sports author Sally Edwards (I already have a book she wrote 20 years ago). She makes it very clear that you are born with a maximum heart rate and age does not change it. If you train all your life this rate remains the same. Max heart rate only changes in sedentary people – the changes are caused by being sedentary not by age itself. This changes the playing field a bit. I will soon be doing a maxed out test to establish my REAL max heart rate. I know it used to be around 192 when I was in my 30s but I think it might now be about 183. We will see. My resting heart rate in recent years has been down to 33 bpm, but oddly, cycling more seems to have raised this a bit to around 44 bpm.

Following on from this I have created my own formula for “cadence” for cycling. Cadence is linked to cardiovascular effort and you can shift the load when cycling from the legs and muscle force at a low cadence to the cardiovascular system at a high cadence. It’s accepted that cadence is slower when climbing – around 70 for a good rhythm – though I’m around 60 if I use the granny gear on steeper climbs and when the legs are tired. My formula is that cadence should be 120 –age. Going by this at age 50 you are down to 70 average cadence and by age 110 you would be at 10 rpm. At age 119 you would manage to turn the pedals about once per minute. That sounds about right!

Thursday’s workout (22^nd April) was the first serious solo effort on the bike (did a big one in March being towed by Chris Harrop – with a pizza stop in the middle – so that was not a great example even though my legs felt like they’d been put through a wringer after 3.5 hours at 95% max heart rate effort. No I could not sleep properly that night. ) This workout took in two big climbs – up to Hautcoeur descending into Moutiers and then up to Natre Dame du Pré, descending all the way to Maçot and then looping along the “flat” around Bourg St Maurice and returning home to Aime. All in all 73km with 1600m vertical. When I reached Bourg at about 3hrs 20mins my legs just went – nothing left. When this happens it comes in the form of a deep non localised pain that makes you just want to get off the bike and lie down. I had been contemplating a third climb but this was now out of the question and a U turn at Bourg was required returning home for and easy spin downhill along the cycle path beside the Isère river all the way. After about 15 minutes of an easy pace much of the pain had subsided – which was very encouraging. This then tempted me to make a final attack up the last short steep hill just before home. Mistake! Upper thigh cramp is not very nice! This was definitely a workout taken to the limit and very satisfying indeed. I had consumed carbohydrates at a rate of about 60g per hour with 500ml of liquid per hour – so the physical issue was unlikely to be a management one – just pure muscle fatigue. Cramp is apparently caused by fatigue – not sodium loss or anything else.

Workout route http://www.gpsies.com/map.do?fileId=feiungxkmlgyxjkc

If you download the Google Earth KML file from here you can do a 3D fly through of the path in the mountains - quite impressive if you are new to this!

The aftermath of all of this is frozen calf muscles and dead legs. The hope is that the 6kg of fat gained during the winter is going to start to melt away along with the snow and that the body will rapidly adapt to cope with some much bigger climbing days during the summer. If the legs are currently dying at 1600m of climbing how will they cope with 5000m? To be seen...