The perils of the urban runner
Most Scottish runners savour the idea of training in the open country. Using Scotland’s majestic scenery as a backdrop to invigorate and revitalise the senses. Taking time out. Breathing in the fresh air. Admiring the views and vivid colours’ of each season. Spotting wildlife in their indigenous habitat. And most of all, escaping the rat-race of the concrete jungle. But with the increase in crime and the recent murder of power-walker, Farah Noor Adams along the riverside in Glasgow, running off the beaten track or in solitude, secluded places no longer seems an option.
As winter and the dark nights are upon us, personal safety is at the forefront of many Scottish runners’ minds. Although running in public, well-light places may seem like the safer choice, the urban runner often faces a whole new set of hazards and obstacles.
Firstly, there’s the traffic. Top of that list is the exhaust fumes – an invisible, yet toxic combination of harmful gases and particulates - penetrating our healthy, pink lungs. As you huff and puff along a roadside, these pollutants are quickly absorbed by the body and attached to the blood’s haemoglobin. This reduces the blood cells’ capacity to carry oxygen and makes the heart work harder. Symptoms of overexposure include headaches, watery eyes and tightness in the chest. Sometimes I think you’d be better off sitting a home smoking a 20-deck. The only good news is that the pollutants dissipate beyond 50 feet. So, if you must run along a road, keep your distance.
Not only are the vehicles a problem, the drivers are a pain too. They splash you with puddle water, snarl at you and silently wish they could run you over. But the most irritating driver, is the lost driver. Why oh why do people insist on stopping to ask you for directions? If you’re puffed-out and in a good rhythmic stride, the last thing you want to do is stop, let alone hold a conversation.
Mind you, the biggest culprit of snapping you out of the zone is the traffic lights. Hit the lights when they’ve just turned to red, and you could have a long wait ahead of you. By the time you’re set to go, on comes the lactic acid and you’re muscles have seized up. It’s almost like starting from scratch. You could of course prance about while you’re waiting, but then you run the risk of looking like a prize prat.
But far worse than the traffic, is the simple pedestrian. Obviously you’re not alone out there. You’ve got to dodge and fight for your pavement space. People casually walk out in front of you or appear from doorways out of the blue. After a bit of jumping and side-stepping to avoid a collision, they have to cheek to look at you as if it were your fault.
Then there’s the chants and the flurry of abuse from your entourage of ‘support’. “Run, Forest! Run!” is a particular favourite of mine. Closely followed by the singing of “Keep on running”. And last year’s most popular choice, especially amongst the construction fraternity is “118 118. Got your number”. It’s almost entertaining watching the chanters fall about laughing at their wise cracks – as if you hadn’t heard them before. If only I had a pound…
More deadly than the verbal abuse, is the growling. Most Sunday morning runners can relate to this, and possibly even empathise. When you’re feeling a little tender from the previous night’s over-indulgence, the last thing you want to see is some self-righteous, lycra-clad, jelly bean reinforcing your guilt and ill feeling. The view’s enough to justify relaxing the country’s gun laws. Even when I’m feeling delicate, I find myself irritated by runners. There’s even a little voice inside my head screaming “get a life!” Camaraderie is temporarily shelved.
As running is a form of escapism, one’s mind can often wander. With the repetitive motion, runners can often go in a trance like mode and switch off completely. This is particularly dangerous when trotting along in built-up areas or near busy roads. If you’re not paying attention, you’re not going to abide by the green cross code. I’ve lost count of the number of buses and cars I’ve run out in front of. I’ve also developed a dangerous habit of listening for traffic, rather than looking. Not the best idea, considering how quiet cars are these days. As you can imagine, I’ve been on the receiving end of many a fist shake or colourful word spoken from a rolled-down window over the years.
My funniest “switched off” moment happened when I was out running on a particularly wet and windy night. I was running head down, fighting the elements when, to my ultimate embarrassment, I ran straight, slap-bang into the back of some poor bloke who was walking along minding his own business. I don’t know who got the biggest fright. He just stood there in amazement, trying to figure out what actually happened.
On that note, the most startling (yet entertaining) thing is scaring the living daylights out of lone walkers. I fear I may, one day, be walloped with a handbag or umbrella. Hearing footsteps running behind, is enough to make strollers think they going to be attacked or mugged. They’re practically shaking or in a light jog by the time you reach them. Sorry folks, I would whistle on approach, but just breathing is hard enough.
Running in the streets of towns and cities you’re very exposed and, therefore, increase the risk of being seen by someone you know. It’s OK if you’re an experienced runner and being caught re-enacting a scene from Chariots of Fire is fine, if not ego boosting. But for the beginner or the not so athletic, it can be quite traumatic. And, Sod’s law, you’re pretty much guaranteed to be seen as you choke and gasp your way up a hill. I know people to waited until it’s dark before they go out, because they’re worried about being spotted.
Then there are the gangs of youth, prone to hanging out in streets and bus shelters. Chubby, cheeky and wearing enough polyester to start a friction fire. On approach you can see their bling jewellery flickering in the street lights. It would be very bad luck if you were physically attack. But from impish faces under hooded sweatshirts, it’s highly probably there will be comments and chuckling. One of the gals in my club had a bag of chips thrown at her once. Personally, I think that’s a double bonus. Free chips. Plus in their opinion, she needed to eat chips.
So, now we’ve got the external challenges out of the way. Let’s start on the physical impact of pavement pounding on your body. When you’re running, you hit the ground with three times your body weight with each footstrike. And each foot strikes the ground approximately 800 times per mile. Your running shoes and feet absorb the initial impact of running and pass it upwards to your ankles, knees, hips, back and head. Basically, the harder the ground, the harder the impact, which means you’re more prone to injury. And that risk is augmented if you’re overweight.
Plus, pavements are often slanted – sloping towards to the road side - which could mean one leg is “higher” and therefore “shorter” than the other. If you run towards the traffic (which is the safest way to run), your left leg will pronate (turn in more) and your right leg will supinate (turn out). This excessive movement all the way up to your knee can cause an injury. If you must run the same route, alternate your direction each time you run.
Urban running can also impact on your mentally. The lack of route variety or the monotonous motion of pavement pounding can make it harder to motivate yourself to run longer distances – or get you out there in the first place. Plus, comments or jibes can also shatter your esteem – especially for the beginner.
On a more positive note, there’s a pro side to running in urban areas: You may feel safer. If you get lost, you can ask someone. If you’re knackered, you can jump on the bus. Your less likely to be attack by farm animals or dogs. And you can build up a healthy appetite with cooking smells as you pass restaurants and takeaways.
So what can you do to overcome to cons? Well, there’s always the over-cautious advice: Don’t wear headphones, as won’t hear traffic and you’re more vulnerable to attackers. Don’t weave and respect the pace and rights of others on the pavement. Don’t look directly at headlights, as it may temporarily blind you. Leave a note at home stating when you left, where you’ll be running and when you expect to return. Carry a personal attack alarm. Stick to well-populated areas, and steer clear of areas with a high crime rate. Avoid running at night and don’t wear jewellery. Pay attention to your surroundings. And carry identification with your name and an emergency phone number.
But really, who has time for this? Plus doesn’t it take the fun and enjoyment out of your favourite pastime? Just be aware of your surroundings. Run facing the traffic. Get some good shoes. Leave the headphones at home. Watch where you’re going. Dress to be seen. Don’t run on high speed roads. Crosstrain or change routes for variety. And when people growl at you, just think how smug you you’ll feel when you’ve finished your run. Happy pavement pounding everyone!
Ends.
Wednesday, 1 November 2006
Friday, 1 September 2006
The Queen of Marathons - My Race Sept 2006
Interview with Kathrine Switzer and Roger Robinson
It is commonly referred to as the "Boston Incident". The infamous spark between runner and race director, which ignited the women's running revolution. Kathrine Switzer created a global frenzy, when the Boston Marathon race director, Jock Semple tried to forcibly remove her from the course.
Since the scuffle during the race in 1967, Switzer will always be best-known as the woman who challenged the all-male tradition and became the first woman to officially enter and run the Boston Marathon.
Little did she know that when she laced up her trainers, donned the number 261 and entered the starting pen that day, that she would break the gender barrier and change to face of female running forever.
Whether participating in a Race for Life event, running the Glasgow Women’s 10K, completing a marathon or any mixed gender race, women everywhere owe a little to Kathrine Switzer.
I had the pleasure of meeting the living legend during her visit to Scotland in June – to talk a the Running the Highlands (RTH) weekend in the Royal Deeside.
Dressed with style and elegance, Switzer instantly projects the aura of a winner. She may have spent her life being knocked for being a woman, but she still remains very feminine and graceful - from her perfectly styled hair and make-up to her tailored clothes and kitten-heeled shoes. She is proudly composed, with her head held high. Clutching a Louis Vuitton handbag in one hand, whilst sipping from a cup a coffee with the other.
With a confident and sunny disposition, you instantly warm to her. There’s a magnetic positivity that radiates from her.
Joining her at the RTH weekend is husband, Roger Robinson. Another high achiever, Robinson enjoyed a 30-year career as an international elite runner - representing both England and New Zealand in World Championships. He has set marathon records for his age group and written three of running’s most original books.
Equally proud and turned-out in razor-sharp pressed trousers and shirt, they wouldn’t look out of place in Monaco. Switzer’s cheery “have-a-nice-day” Americaness is a contrast to Robinson’s quintessential English - complete dry sense of humour - manner. But together, it works. Their are duo act. Smiling and giggling at their inside jokes and finishing each others sentences. It’s a charming synergy that’s spurned from 18 years of common ground and companionship.
Notepads at the ready, the RTH participants were alert and keen to hear Switzer and Robinson speak. Looking for divine inspiration. Anything that would help them run better, faster or longer.
Addressing an entranced and fascinated audience, Switzer commenced with the history of her life.
“At the age of 12, I was a keen hockey player.” She started: “My Father advised me run a mile everyday. To a young girl, that’s like climbing Kilimanjaro. I struggled everyday, but the conditioning made me a better player. I thought I had something magical, so I kept it a secret. Running gave me the self-esteem and empowerment that the other girls didn’t have. It was my little sense of victory every day.”
She continued with her daily run and hockey through to college in Virginia, where the men's track coach asked her if she would run a mile for the team at a meet. In a small religious town, this was something almost sacrilegious. The media where out in force to capture the woman who dared to run with men. She finished the mile in an admirable 5:58, but later received hate mail saying that God would strike her dead for running with men.
Switzer decided to become a sports journalist and transferred to Syracuse University in 1966. At Syracuse she went to see the men's cross country coach. As it was against the NCAA rules, she couldn’t run officially, but she could train with them. It was at Syracuse where she met Arnie Briggs, who was the University postman and unofficial team manager. An ex-marathon runner, who had run the Boston Marathon 15 times, Briggs took Switzer under his wing and taught her about running.
Switzer: “We were running six to ten miles a night. Arnie would keep me entertained with stories of the Boston Marathon. I was entranced and fascinated. Finally, I said let's stop talking about Boston and just go and run the damn thing. He turned to me and said, ‘women aren't capable of running 26.2 miles.”
Switzer knew that In 1966, Roberta Gibb had run the Boston Marathon. She hid in the bushes until the gun went off and then slipped into the pack. She finished in 3:21 – beating two thirds of the men - but her time was not recorded as she had not officially entered.
Briggs didn’t believe that story, but told Switzer that if she could prove to him that she could run 26.2 miles, he would personally take her to Boston.
Switzer trained consistently. She added: “On my first attempt at 18 miles, I hit the wall. But I kept going and finally we set the day to run distance. We mapped out about four 10K loops and as we were finishing up the last loop, Arnie turned and said, 'I can't believe you are going to make it.' All of a sudden I put on the brakes and said, 'What if we mismeasured the course and we're short of 26.2 miles?' I began to doubt we had measured the distance accurately. Just to be totally sure, I wanted to add another five miles. During the last stage of the 31-mile run, Arnie began weaving. At our finish line, I threw my arms around him…and he passed out!”
The next day, Briggs gave Switzer a race entry form. They checked the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) rulebook for regulations on woman’s marathon running, but there was no reference to gender. Switzer filled out the entry form, paid the $3 entry fee, and signed it – the way she always did - K.V. Switzer.
That night, she went out with her boyfriend Tom Miller, who was a 17-stone hammer thrower. He was always amused by her ‘jogging’ tales, but even more so about her marathon attempts. He decided to sign up on the basis that if a girl could do it, he could do it too.
The weather on the day was pretty cold and grim, so most of the runners were wrapped up. As Switzer pinned on her number, some of the other runners noticed her and got very excited and supportive. Switzer lined up to go through the starting pen with Arnie Briggs, her boyfriend Tom and John Leonard from her cross country team. As they passed through the pen, they had to lift their sweatshirts to display their numbers. Will Cloney, the co-race director, pushed Switzer through the starting gate. The race started and off went the first registered female marathon runner.
Four miles into the race, the media truck - packed with photographers - came along. The journalists’ bus - with race directors Will Cloney and Jock Semple on board - followed. Switzer explained: “By then, I had disposed of my sweatshirt and my hair was flying. I didn't try to disguise my gender at all. Heck, I was so proud of myself I was wearing lipstick.” The journalists started to taunt Jock that a girl had infiltrated his race. Jock, well-known for his violent temper, jumped off the bus and went after her. “I tried to get away from him but he had me by the shirt. Tom came to the rescue and smacked Jock with a cross body block and sent him flying through the air. At first I thought he had killed him. Arnie just looked at me and said, 'Run like hell,' . I did. And the photographers snapped away. The rest is history”.
Switzer went on to finish the 1967 Boston Marathon in 4:20, but was later disqualified by Jock Semple. She was also expelled from the AAU for “running with men” and “running without a chaperone”. Despite the set back she went on to run 35 marathons, including eight boston marathons. she ran a personal best of 2:51 in 1975 and won the 1974 new york city marathon. For three decades, switzer has dedicated her multifaceted career to creating opportunities and equal status for women in sport. She started the Avon International Running Circuit, a global series of events in 27 countries - which have reached over a million women - and lead to the inclusion of the women's marathon in the olympic games.
Switzer and Robinson now split their year across two homes. New Paltz, north of New York in the summer and Wellington, New Zealand in the winter. Both still run about six miles each day, but don’t consider themselves competitive. Switzer: “I still participate in races, but don’t take my myself real seriously until the last 200m, then I get competitive”. She laughs: If there’s a grey-haired woman near me, she’s dead meat!”. Robinson: “I still run, but always with a hobble. One knee retired in 1996.”
Together, Switzer and Robinson have written and compiled their latest book – 26.2 Marathon Stories.
The marathon is the most popular individual athletic event in the world, with over a million people set to enter one this year and another 50 million cheering them on from the sidelines. This beautiful coffee table book is the ultimate tribute to the marathon and the ultimate inspiration to the runner.
With 26.2 chapters and over 200 photographs, the book examines the marathon through the lenses of history, philosophy, sociology, athletics, culture, fashion and science. It delves into all that a marathon entails: the endless hours of training, the demands on your body, the fear at the starting line, the sinking feeling of hitting of wall and the overwhelming high of crossing the finishing line. It takes at trip through history and lists the heroes (and the villains!) of the race, looks at the world’s greatest marathons, captures the determination of the runners and analyses the agony and ecstasy of this solitary endurance feat.
The content of their book was the basis for their talk at the RTH event. Robinson spoke about the history of running – a subject he is fascinated by and very knowledgeable on. There’s a glint in his eye when he goes on to discuss the bygone times of his first and life-long love – cross-country running. He even recited some of James Fleming’s poetry on running – in a Scottish accent. He paid tribute to Scottish runners including Dale Greig and Alasdair Wood and his life-long pal, Mel Edwards, who he described as a “Labrador that’s just been let out the car”. He even talked of his love and admiration for Glasgow-born ship riveter Jock Semple – the man who tried to throw his future wife out of the Boston Marathon.
Together, they recited some of the inspirational and comical personal quotations from well-known marathoners, that are published in the book.
26.2 Marathon Stories is not a training guide. It’s not physical. It’s emotional. It’s passionate and gripping. There are bits that move you to tears. There are lines that make you laugh out loud and there are chapters that spur you to throw on your gear and sprint down the street. There are lots of interesting facts, but mostly it salutes the marathon runner with overwhelming accounts of this magical event. It’s captivating and essential reading from cover to cover.
If you’re considering running a marathon or would like to remember the swirling emotions of your marathon accomplishments, then this is a must-have read. Tap in to the energy of some of running’s greatest athletes and prepare for goosebumps. As a marathon runner myself, the line that ends chapter 26.2 will be stamped on my heart forever…”In truth a marathon has no finish. Its effects are carried for life within the body, the memory, the life story and the self-image. To finish a marathon is to attain a small piece of immortality.
Fact box
26.2 Marathon Stories is published by Rodale and retails at £16.99. Visit, www.rodalestore.com for further information. Buy online at www.amazon.co.uk.
Running the Highland weekend breaks run throughout the year and cost from £208 per person. The price includes accommodation, expert advice, guided runs and all meals. For further information, visit www.runningthehighlands.com, call 08451-577422 or email neil@runningthehighlands.com.
Switzer and Robinson’s top tips
Switzer on training: Get out there everyday and do something. Even if it’s just 10 minutes. Go for a little bit of magic everyday.
Robinson on training: Know the purpose of each training run. Run hard on hard days and easy on easy days. Never compete. Save that for races
Switzer on racing: Preparation prevents intimidation.
Robinson racing tip: Go out slow. Pretend you’re running inside a plastic bag. Enjoy the adrenaline, but remain apart from it. Don’t start racing until you’re half way round the marathon. You’ll know when to break. It’s a instinct. You can smell it. Your body will tell you when it’s time.
______________
Editor’s note:
Useful quotes from the book, that might make good display quotes.
Ahead lies strenuous effort, weariness, and pain, but we will endure it all voluntarily for the sheer enjoyment of trying.
Running marathons is not the long sought Fountain of Youth, but it may be the nearest humanity has yet come to finding it.
Each runner can run with world record holders like Paula Radcliffe and Paul Tergat. It’s like singing at the Met or playing in US Open.
The marathon attracts people from all walks of life, from all over the world, with every possible kind of motivation. Each has a different story and a different experience. Nothing else in the world unites so many people in a single purpose – men and women, rich and poor, from every ethnic group, every age and in every physical shape.
Every marathoner runs alone. Breath, heartbeat, the strike of the feet on the road, the sweat-soaked shirt, the aching legs – it’s all private. To run the marathon is a wholly personal decision. Only the runner can summon the will to complete it, and the satisfaction of finishing will be each runner’s alone. Yet every marathoner runs with many others. They share the road, the purpose, the struggle and the satisfaction. Together they make up a race, a field and a community.
Robinson’s philosophy on running: Running is a fundamental movement that puts you in contact with the earth, the elements and your body. In the modern world, that is beyond price.
It is commonly referred to as the "Boston Incident". The infamous spark between runner and race director, which ignited the women's running revolution. Kathrine Switzer created a global frenzy, when the Boston Marathon race director, Jock Semple tried to forcibly remove her from the course.
Since the scuffle during the race in 1967, Switzer will always be best-known as the woman who challenged the all-male tradition and became the first woman to officially enter and run the Boston Marathon.
Little did she know that when she laced up her trainers, donned the number 261 and entered the starting pen that day, that she would break the gender barrier and change to face of female running forever.
Whether participating in a Race for Life event, running the Glasgow Women’s 10K, completing a marathon or any mixed gender race, women everywhere owe a little to Kathrine Switzer.
I had the pleasure of meeting the living legend during her visit to Scotland in June – to talk a the Running the Highlands (RTH) weekend in the Royal Deeside.
Dressed with style and elegance, Switzer instantly projects the aura of a winner. She may have spent her life being knocked for being a woman, but she still remains very feminine and graceful - from her perfectly styled hair and make-up to her tailored clothes and kitten-heeled shoes. She is proudly composed, with her head held high. Clutching a Louis Vuitton handbag in one hand, whilst sipping from a cup a coffee with the other.
With a confident and sunny disposition, you instantly warm to her. There’s a magnetic positivity that radiates from her.
Joining her at the RTH weekend is husband, Roger Robinson. Another high achiever, Robinson enjoyed a 30-year career as an international elite runner - representing both England and New Zealand in World Championships. He has set marathon records for his age group and written three of running’s most original books.
Equally proud and turned-out in razor-sharp pressed trousers and shirt, they wouldn’t look out of place in Monaco. Switzer’s cheery “have-a-nice-day” Americaness is a contrast to Robinson’s quintessential English - complete dry sense of humour - manner. But together, it works. Their are duo act. Smiling and giggling at their inside jokes and finishing each others sentences. It’s a charming synergy that’s spurned from 18 years of common ground and companionship.
Notepads at the ready, the RTH participants were alert and keen to hear Switzer and Robinson speak. Looking for divine inspiration. Anything that would help them run better, faster or longer.
Addressing an entranced and fascinated audience, Switzer commenced with the history of her life.
“At the age of 12, I was a keen hockey player.” She started: “My Father advised me run a mile everyday. To a young girl, that’s like climbing Kilimanjaro. I struggled everyday, but the conditioning made me a better player. I thought I had something magical, so I kept it a secret. Running gave me the self-esteem and empowerment that the other girls didn’t have. It was my little sense of victory every day.”
She continued with her daily run and hockey through to college in Virginia, where the men's track coach asked her if she would run a mile for the team at a meet. In a small religious town, this was something almost sacrilegious. The media where out in force to capture the woman who dared to run with men. She finished the mile in an admirable 5:58, but later received hate mail saying that God would strike her dead for running with men.
Switzer decided to become a sports journalist and transferred to Syracuse University in 1966. At Syracuse she went to see the men's cross country coach. As it was against the NCAA rules, she couldn’t run officially, but she could train with them. It was at Syracuse where she met Arnie Briggs, who was the University postman and unofficial team manager. An ex-marathon runner, who had run the Boston Marathon 15 times, Briggs took Switzer under his wing and taught her about running.
Switzer: “We were running six to ten miles a night. Arnie would keep me entertained with stories of the Boston Marathon. I was entranced and fascinated. Finally, I said let's stop talking about Boston and just go and run the damn thing. He turned to me and said, ‘women aren't capable of running 26.2 miles.”
Switzer knew that In 1966, Roberta Gibb had run the Boston Marathon. She hid in the bushes until the gun went off and then slipped into the pack. She finished in 3:21 – beating two thirds of the men - but her time was not recorded as she had not officially entered.
Briggs didn’t believe that story, but told Switzer that if she could prove to him that she could run 26.2 miles, he would personally take her to Boston.
Switzer trained consistently. She added: “On my first attempt at 18 miles, I hit the wall. But I kept going and finally we set the day to run distance. We mapped out about four 10K loops and as we were finishing up the last loop, Arnie turned and said, 'I can't believe you are going to make it.' All of a sudden I put on the brakes and said, 'What if we mismeasured the course and we're short of 26.2 miles?' I began to doubt we had measured the distance accurately. Just to be totally sure, I wanted to add another five miles. During the last stage of the 31-mile run, Arnie began weaving. At our finish line, I threw my arms around him…and he passed out!”
The next day, Briggs gave Switzer a race entry form. They checked the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) rulebook for regulations on woman’s marathon running, but there was no reference to gender. Switzer filled out the entry form, paid the $3 entry fee, and signed it – the way she always did - K.V. Switzer.
That night, she went out with her boyfriend Tom Miller, who was a 17-stone hammer thrower. He was always amused by her ‘jogging’ tales, but even more so about her marathon attempts. He decided to sign up on the basis that if a girl could do it, he could do it too.
The weather on the day was pretty cold and grim, so most of the runners were wrapped up. As Switzer pinned on her number, some of the other runners noticed her and got very excited and supportive. Switzer lined up to go through the starting pen with Arnie Briggs, her boyfriend Tom and John Leonard from her cross country team. As they passed through the pen, they had to lift their sweatshirts to display their numbers. Will Cloney, the co-race director, pushed Switzer through the starting gate. The race started and off went the first registered female marathon runner.
Four miles into the race, the media truck - packed with photographers - came along. The journalists’ bus - with race directors Will Cloney and Jock Semple on board - followed. Switzer explained: “By then, I had disposed of my sweatshirt and my hair was flying. I didn't try to disguise my gender at all. Heck, I was so proud of myself I was wearing lipstick.” The journalists started to taunt Jock that a girl had infiltrated his race. Jock, well-known for his violent temper, jumped off the bus and went after her. “I tried to get away from him but he had me by the shirt. Tom came to the rescue and smacked Jock with a cross body block and sent him flying through the air. At first I thought he had killed him. Arnie just looked at me and said, 'Run like hell,' . I did. And the photographers snapped away. The rest is history”.
Switzer went on to finish the 1967 Boston Marathon in 4:20, but was later disqualified by Jock Semple. She was also expelled from the AAU for “running with men” and “running without a chaperone”. Despite the set back she went on to run 35 marathons, including eight boston marathons. she ran a personal best of 2:51 in 1975 and won the 1974 new york city marathon. For three decades, switzer has dedicated her multifaceted career to creating opportunities and equal status for women in sport. She started the Avon International Running Circuit, a global series of events in 27 countries - which have reached over a million women - and lead to the inclusion of the women's marathon in the olympic games.
Switzer and Robinson now split their year across two homes. New Paltz, north of New York in the summer and Wellington, New Zealand in the winter. Both still run about six miles each day, but don’t consider themselves competitive. Switzer: “I still participate in races, but don’t take my myself real seriously until the last 200m, then I get competitive”. She laughs: If there’s a grey-haired woman near me, she’s dead meat!”. Robinson: “I still run, but always with a hobble. One knee retired in 1996.”
Together, Switzer and Robinson have written and compiled their latest book – 26.2 Marathon Stories.
The marathon is the most popular individual athletic event in the world, with over a million people set to enter one this year and another 50 million cheering them on from the sidelines. This beautiful coffee table book is the ultimate tribute to the marathon and the ultimate inspiration to the runner.
With 26.2 chapters and over 200 photographs, the book examines the marathon through the lenses of history, philosophy, sociology, athletics, culture, fashion and science. It delves into all that a marathon entails: the endless hours of training, the demands on your body, the fear at the starting line, the sinking feeling of hitting of wall and the overwhelming high of crossing the finishing line. It takes at trip through history and lists the heroes (and the villains!) of the race, looks at the world’s greatest marathons, captures the determination of the runners and analyses the agony and ecstasy of this solitary endurance feat.
The content of their book was the basis for their talk at the RTH event. Robinson spoke about the history of running – a subject he is fascinated by and very knowledgeable on. There’s a glint in his eye when he goes on to discuss the bygone times of his first and life-long love – cross-country running. He even recited some of James Fleming’s poetry on running – in a Scottish accent. He paid tribute to Scottish runners including Dale Greig and Alasdair Wood and his life-long pal, Mel Edwards, who he described as a “Labrador that’s just been let out the car”. He even talked of his love and admiration for Glasgow-born ship riveter Jock Semple – the man who tried to throw his future wife out of the Boston Marathon.
Together, they recited some of the inspirational and comical personal quotations from well-known marathoners, that are published in the book.
26.2 Marathon Stories is not a training guide. It’s not physical. It’s emotional. It’s passionate and gripping. There are bits that move you to tears. There are lines that make you laugh out loud and there are chapters that spur you to throw on your gear and sprint down the street. There are lots of interesting facts, but mostly it salutes the marathon runner with overwhelming accounts of this magical event. It’s captivating and essential reading from cover to cover.
If you’re considering running a marathon or would like to remember the swirling emotions of your marathon accomplishments, then this is a must-have read. Tap in to the energy of some of running’s greatest athletes and prepare for goosebumps. As a marathon runner myself, the line that ends chapter 26.2 will be stamped on my heart forever…”In truth a marathon has no finish. Its effects are carried for life within the body, the memory, the life story and the self-image. To finish a marathon is to attain a small piece of immortality.
Fact box
26.2 Marathon Stories is published by Rodale and retails at £16.99. Visit, www.rodalestore.com for further information. Buy online at www.amazon.co.uk.
Running the Highland weekend breaks run throughout the year and cost from £208 per person. The price includes accommodation, expert advice, guided runs and all meals. For further information, visit www.runningthehighlands.com, call 08451-577422 or email neil@runningthehighlands.com.
Switzer and Robinson’s top tips
Switzer on training: Get out there everyday and do something. Even if it’s just 10 minutes. Go for a little bit of magic everyday.
Robinson on training: Know the purpose of each training run. Run hard on hard days and easy on easy days. Never compete. Save that for races
Switzer on racing: Preparation prevents intimidation.
Robinson racing tip: Go out slow. Pretend you’re running inside a plastic bag. Enjoy the adrenaline, but remain apart from it. Don’t start racing until you’re half way round the marathon. You’ll know when to break. It’s a instinct. You can smell it. Your body will tell you when it’s time.
______________
Editor’s note:
Useful quotes from the book, that might make good display quotes.
Ahead lies strenuous effort, weariness, and pain, but we will endure it all voluntarily for the sheer enjoyment of trying.
Running marathons is not the long sought Fountain of Youth, but it may be the nearest humanity has yet come to finding it.
Each runner can run with world record holders like Paula Radcliffe and Paul Tergat. It’s like singing at the Met or playing in US Open.
The marathon attracts people from all walks of life, from all over the world, with every possible kind of motivation. Each has a different story and a different experience. Nothing else in the world unites so many people in a single purpose – men and women, rich and poor, from every ethnic group, every age and in every physical shape.
Every marathoner runs alone. Breath, heartbeat, the strike of the feet on the road, the sweat-soaked shirt, the aching legs – it’s all private. To run the marathon is a wholly personal decision. Only the runner can summon the will to complete it, and the satisfaction of finishing will be each runner’s alone. Yet every marathoner runs with many others. They share the road, the purpose, the struggle and the satisfaction. Together they make up a race, a field and a community.
Robinson’s philosophy on running: Running is a fundamental movement that puts you in contact with the earth, the elements and your body. In the modern world, that is beyond price.
Saturday, 1 July 2006
Girls on the run - My Race July 2006
Femininity Lost: The flipside to girls on the run
It was not so long ago that it was illegal for women to participate in long distance running. Why? Because men thought woman would lose their femininity, their muscles would bulk and their breasts would sag.
In true feisty female style, woman started to rebel. In 1966, Roberta Gibb Bingay was denied entry for the Boston Marathon. The reason the race officials gave her for the rejection was her that women couldn’t go the distance and she would get hurt. She hid in bushes near the start and joined in on the gun. She finished in 3.21 - beating two thirds of the men. The following year, Katherine Swtizer sent in her application under the name “K. Switzer”. As officials thought she was a he, Switzer was granted a place. Unfortunately, during the race, the director chased her and tried to rip off her number. She finished, but was disqualified.
The women's running movement started to take off in the 1970s. But the historical moment that granted equality in the world of runners happened when women were accepted to compete in the 1984 Olympics’ marathon.
The history may seem a little surprising to any present day female runner. Today woman are running, competing and winning everywhere. More and more women are rejecting traditional feminine sporting activities, lacing up their trainers and hitting the pavement.
I do appreciate and almost understand the original male school of thought on the case. I wholeheartedly believe that women should maintain their femininity. Even in this modern day of equality, I’m ashamed to admit that females playing rugby and football horrify me.
Granted, you’ll never find me prancing about in aerobics class or bending myself silly at yoga, but I do consider myself a bit of a girlie girl. I love pink things and perfume. I own about 50 pairs shoes, even more handbags and never miss a copy of Cosmo. I adore shopping, gossip and don’t pretend to understand the offside rule. I’m like a magpie when it comes to sparkly things and jewellery and I can spend hours (and a small fortune) in John Lewis’ beauty hall.
So, yeah, I’m a girlie girl. But when it comes to running, all feminine decorum is temporarily shelved. It’s lady to ladette by the time I’ve laced up my trainers. One double-knot later and all decent and respectable behaviour is out the window.
Firstly, let’s start with the verbals. During particularly hard training sessions, I have been known to use language that would make a drunken sailor blush. The colourful array or vocabulary that tumbles from my lip-glossed mouth would only ever be heard again on building sites.
I’ve also been caught spitting. Frequently actually. I’ve even coughed up and spat out numerous insects over the years. I used to be quite discreet about it. Waiting until I was out of sight. Now I do it during pack runs and races. Of course I always apologise before and after. Like that makes it acceptable.
As you will know, runners sweat buckets. For sake of femininity, let’s refer to it as perspiration. Actually, my favourite expression is: “Ladies don’t perspire. We merely glow”. Huh! Try using that one after a long run in the height of summer. Sweat balls rolling down your back and dripping off your face. Telltale signs of wet patches. A challenge for even the strongest deodorant.
Not only am I drenched it sweat, there’s the issue of a running nose. It doesn’t matter what the weather’s like, my nose runs like a tap. If it’s not running down my face, I’m using my clothes to clean it up.
A pretty, dainty friend of mine who has mastered the butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth aura, spent the vast majority of the Jedburgh half-marathon clearing her nose in full view. Her excuse for knocking holes in the road with snot rockets was “she had a cold” and “had lost her hanky at the start of the race”.
I cannot mock, I’ve been known to wipe sweat on my clothes and blow my nose in my gloves. Something you would never consider doing in any other walk of life. And I’m sure my non-running companions would be horrified to discover this.
One morning I received an email from a work colleague, which read: “Saw you out running last night. You were trotting along very gracefully - a vision in pink lycra, with your golden locks bouncing about in a ponytail. You kinda lost the look when you snorted one up, and spat on the pavement.” Oops. The moral of the story: surveillance.
From a foul-mouth down to my smelly feet, running has a repulsive impact on every part of the female physique. I can no longer point the fingers at the boys for rancid trainer pongs. After running through puddles or on a particularly hot day, my socks could toddle off to the washing machine by themselves. And my feet don’t look to pretty either. My once beautifully pedicured totsies, have been replaced with hardskin, black toenails and friction burns. Let’s just say, I won’t bother buying this season’s must-have Jimmy Choos. Nobody wants to see the raw exposed skin that was once a blister. Ah, there’s nothing classier the sitting popping blisters with a hot needle.
My bathroom cabinet that was once stocked with tingling, luxurious peppermint foot lotion has been replaced with tubs of runners’ favourite, Vaseline. Slapping it my feet before a long run, may not be graceful, but it’s effective. A giant tub – which has raised a few eyebrows – is displayed alongside potions for fungal nail infections and athletes foot.
A crime to fashion and beauty
Running attire? Let’s face it, the clobber isn’t exactly stylish. No one can make a pair of Ronhill tracksters look fetching. Shiny lycra tights accentuate every sinful curve and ripple of skin. If you don’t having a figure like Nell McAndrew, then forget wearing hot pants. And if you’ve got cellulite (just for the record, I do), you’re not going to feel attractive in a pair of running shorts. Plus the motion of running, makes you fat bits jiggle about on full show. I lined up for last year’s London Marathon next to the Cheeky Girls. Can you have imagine how demoralising that was? Thankfully I beat them.
What about what’s underneath the running ensemble? You can hardly call it lingerie. Forget silky camisoles, frilly bras and sexy French knickers. It’s been replaced with double-layered wired-up, boulder (or pebble in my case) holders. OK, Anna Kournikova still looks stunning in her Shock Absorber modelling campaign, but my cheekies are squished and strapped down to look like an eight-year-old boy. As for pants, if you’re like me, the pants I use to run in are horrible greying numbers that I wouldn’t even display on my washing line. Oh, sexy stuff eh? Heaven forbid if I was hit by a bus whilst wearing them.
OK, so it’s not supposed to be a fashion show, but I definitely don’t look my best when I’m out running. And there’s nothing more cringe worthy than being spotted by an ex-boyfriend or old school mate. Any other time, I am eternally grateful for an Estee Lauder made-up face, but when I hit the pavement, my face has been stripped pure and soon to resemble a smacked backside.
As for your hair do, well, I generally set out with my hair scraped back, tied up and hidden underneath a cap. A cap than is so disgusting, that it could actually run on its own accord. With the bouncing motion of running, combined with the dampness of sweat, I generally have a mass of knots on the back of my head. A barnet that looks more like something the cat coughed up, rather than a Tony ‘n’ Guy creation.
Embarrassing internals
Well, now we’ve got the external niceties out the way, let’s talk about the disgusting unsociable, unmentionables that running does to your insides.
Firstly, there’s the infamous runner’s trot: A catch-all term for a range of unspeakables including cramping, flatulence and diarrhoea. Most females don’t indulge in “toilet chat”, but runners seem to have some kind of camaraderie in the area and will divulge their most private moments. Again, something you wouldn’t consider doing amongst your non-running friends. But hey, we’ve all suffered from it. Catherine McKeiran’s victory in the 1998 London Marathon wasn’t a ‘clean-sweep’. She suffered from an unfortunate attack of diarrhoea in the last few miles, but stormed on.
Although I may have been spared the public disgrace of the notorious trot, I will shamefully admit that I have been ‘caught short’ in various outdoor locations. Of course, it’s viewed as perfectly acceptable for the boys. One mile in to a race and they’re lining the course. They would be horrified if a girl did the same thing. Mind you, the required position is a little more graphic. Although I wouldn’t even contemplate “doing a Paula”, I’ve Jump behind many a wall and crouched behind many a tree. In true girlie fashion, I’ve even gone with a group. Although, unlike Radcliffe, I can spare the time during a race. Her much publicised “comfort break” during the 2005 London Marathon shocked the nation, caused a media frenzy and even introduced a new catchphrase. But I say, victory over modesty. You go girl!
What about periods? They say that running helps alleviate PMS symptoms and period pain. Fair play. But it’s hard to find the motivation when you’re crabbit, craving chocolate, harbouring murderous thoughts and feeling like an inflatable beachball. Plus, sanitary products aren’t the easiest things to run with and sport bras weren't designed for tender breasts.
Vomiting is also common side effects of running. The motion shakes the internal organs and can cause food and stomach acid to rise. I’m sure you’ve seen many a runner, sprint to the finish only to double over and hurl. One of my favourite race comedy moments was during last year’s Glasgow Women’s 10K. After finishing, I went back to cheer on the rest of the runners. One girl stopped in front of me, grabbed on to the railing and spewed at my feet. She then tilted her head, looked up at me with saliva dripping down her chin and said: “You can’t buy class”. Fair play to her though. She staggered over the finishing line.
So, the moral of the story is two-fold. Running is not for the fainthearted, precious princess types. And if you’re considering joining a club or entering a race in the hope of finding a love interest, don’t. Granted there will be lots of males there, but you ain’t looking your best.
On a more positive note:
Apart from the obvious health benefits, running is fabulous for us gals. We can counteract the chocolate gorging damage, as running burns off more calories and fat than any other physical activity. For a double-bonus, there’s guilt free wine drinking. Hey, life’s all about balancing the good with the bad. The ying and the yang. Shopping is more of a delight when you can slip in to tiny sizes. Skinny jeans will always look better on backsides that have maintained gravity. And we can wear summer tops and dresses, without fear of bat wing arms.
Thankfully many running brands have recognised the growth in female runners and introduced feminine coloured gear to their range. Better. Not perfect. But at the end of the day, regardless of how hideous the running gear is, girls still wear it better than the boys. Vests may not be stylish, but men just look silly in the them. And as for running tights? Enough said.
So, you can keep your poncy aerobics classes. I’m not going to the gym, and my yoga mat can stay under the bed. I stick to mud, sweat and blisters. There’s nothing more invigorating or effective and throwing on your scabby gear and and running through mucky puddles. Bring on a cross-country session in the pouring rain.
Of course afterwards its back for a well deserved girlie pamper session. Bubble bath with candles, luxurious beauty potions, fluffy pink pyjamas, curling up with a big mug of tea (or a glass of Chardonnay) and a chick-flick on TV. Heaven.
Monday, 1 May 2006
Running the Highland - My Race May/June 2006
Remember the spring blizzards in March that brought Scotland to a standstill? Do you recall the news flashes warning people to stay indoors and only travel if necessary? Well, in the midst of this national havoc, I was running up mountains in the Cairngorms. A holiday in the Highlands conjures up magical images of a relaxing spring mini-break in the glorious Scottish countryside. This experience put a whole different perspective on a chilled-out weekend.
Organised by Running The Highlands (RTH) and managed by a team of enthusiastic runners, the weekends are designed for aspiring athletes of all levels. Neil Stewart, who set up the company in the summer of 2005, said: “The main priority is to have a great time, discover and enjoy the breathtaking surroundings and to get as much out of the holiday as possible.”
Home for the weekend was the enchanting Balmoral Estate - set amongst the magnificent scenery of Royal Deeside, in the shadows of Lochnagar.
Arriving on Friday afternoon, I was introduced to the RTH team and the other apprehensive runners. The group was a real mixed bag of ages and abilities. From early 20s to runners in their 60s. Some had never run a race and some were marathon pros. Some were fellow Scots, but most were from south of the border.
We were all assigned rooms within the Queen’s Building accommodation. I was prepared for draughty dorms with stratchy bunkbeds, but we all had our own cosy rooms – complete the TV, basin and coffee making facilities. RTH can organise accommodation according to preference and budget. A few of the participants had opted to stay at the nearby Hilton Craigendarroch.
After settling in, we convened in the recreational area for an induction and run down on the itinerary. The weekend was divided into a tight schedule of practical and classroom sessions, with time for relaxing and socialising.
The pre-weekend questionnaire allowed the guides to split the groups into packs according to ability. Participants can choose to do as much as they want on routes that are graded in a similar way to ski runs – from short and gentle green runs, through blue and black up to diamond black – the killer long-distance runs.
The first run, on Friday afternoon, set out in three groups. The warm-up for the six-mile route was a nice gentle stroll at conversational pace. The chatter soon stopped on our first ascent up a steep hill track. The underfoot snow and slippery mud made the incline even tougher. I thought my calves were going to explode, but it was all worth it when we got to the top. The views after the 1000ft climb were amazing – even though my iced-over, tear-filled eyes. Anyway, what goes up, must come back down. Full of chatter and vigour, one of the other gals and I bounded down the hill in front of the group. Top tip: Don’t leave the pack. You get lost. But that’s another story…
Back at base we had time to thaw out and clean away the muck before the next part of the itinerary – Pilates. Years of running and sporadic attempts at stretching have taken their toll on my body, and I wasn’t looking forward to displaying my lack of flexibility. Our class instructor was by Neil’s bubbly wife, Emma. Her permanent smile and delightfully sunny disposition conveyed the impression that little birds dress her in the morning. Emma showed up the basic moves and breathing exercises to build core stability – a must for any runner. It was a most enjoyable experience. There was little hardship in lying on a mattress, listening to soothing music, watching the snow falling outside. I managed to nod off – and noisily jerk awake - three times.
After an hour of relaxation it was time to get our brains in gear for the theoretical, classroom sessions. Ex-international marathon runners, Mel Edwards and Fraser Clyne, covered a wide range of topics, including cross-training, injury prevention, training schedules, stretching and preparing for race day. It was a great way to pick the brains of the masters, as there was ample opportunity for group discussions and questions.
After a sumptuous three-course dinner – passing on the wine - I crawled off to my room for an early night.
Early on Saturday morning I jumped out of bed full of the zest for life and flung open the curtains. ‘Twas a glorious site. The trees and ground were covered in an untouched blanket of snow. The only signs of life were the tiny prints the red squirrels left as they clambered up the trees to their food house.
Over breakfast we were briefed the day’s run. There were three options: An eight-mile, 12-mile or a 16-mile run. I courageously (OK, foolishly) signed up for the latter.
Ruth MacKenzie was our guide for the day. A fitness instructor by day, Ruth has an impressive fitness CV and successfully participates in duathlons and hill running races.
I was doing my usual dilly-dallying about, when my group took off without me. Thankfully the footprints in the snow were easy to follow. Mind you, a sprint start isn’t the best warm-up for long run.
Crossing fields of dense snow, even the Highland cows looked at us as if we were daft. The route alone was an exciting adventure. We ran along trails and roads, passed beautiful waterfalls, slid on ice, stomped through muck, tumbled down steep descents, gasped on inclines, crossed bridges and jumped fences – watch out for the electric ones. Squirrels played in trees, birds flew overhead and red deer came down from the hills. The charm of the surroundings and the team spirit amongst the group made it an enchanting experience. Although there was different levels of speed, everyone stayed together.
After covering 16-miles and climbing nearly 2200ft, we arrived back at base for a nutritious feast and well-deserved steaming shower.
Saturday afternoon was free time. Participants could choose to relax, take advantage of a one-to-one discussion with Mel or Fraser or sign up for a session with the on site sports masseuse or podiatrist. There was also the option of using the spa facilities at the Hilton Craigendarroch. Of course, no weekend break would be complete without a spot of retail therapy, so Neil organised trip to nearby Ballater. One of the comedy highlights of the weekend was when one of the London gals asked me if there was a shopping centre there. I’m not convinced she picked up on the sarcasm when I told her there was a Prada and Louis Vuitton store.
Early on Saturday evening we gathered meet with Dr Chris Fenn, one the UK’s leading nutritionalists, who advises top athletes on how to achieve peak performance through nutrition. On her own advice Dr Fenn has cycled America’s coast-to-coast, climbed Kilimanjora twice, trekked to the Everest Base Camp and designed the diets for the British Everest Expedition. So, we sat up and paid attention as our previous knowledge was torn to shreds. Forgot energy bars, drinks and gels. Dr Fenn taught us the evils of caffeine, processed foods and sugary snacks. She advised us on: how to boost mental and physical energy through a natural and nutritious diet; what ingredients to avoid; and how to develop new eating habits.
All the meals at the RTH weekend were based on Dr Fenn’s guidelines. The food alone was worth the trip. The chef provided the most delicious and nutritious array of cuisine that any top-class restaurant would be proud to serve. Homemade bread, fresh soup, salmon, venison, fresh vegetables and rhubarb crumble. The buffet-style breakfast and lunch displayed a variety of mouth-watering and well-deserved dishes. Not only was it very good for you, it was all included in the price. All dinner time there was also the opportunity to buy beer and wine. Hey, you’ve got to balance the bad with good.
Sunday morning was the last run of the weekend. The snow had fallen heavy overnight. News reports informed us that motorways were blocked, trains were cancelled and airports closed. Well, if we were stuck we may as well enjoy being snowed in. Prior to the run, snowmen were built and dressed and snowball wars began.
When all the hilarity was over, we stood around shivering in our wet clothes waiting to embark on a jaunt thought the thickest snow I’ve ever seen. You really start to question your sanity when you remember you not only volunteered for it, but you’re paying for the pleasure.
We set off in our packs for another six-mile run. We walked the first ascent as a warm-up. A welcome relief as most people had tender legs. Through the forest we giggled like big kids, as we tumbled down through the snow. But on exposed tracks, the strong winds and horizontal sleet battered against our frozen faces. I probably looked like a cross between a smurf and Carrie, as a I muttered and swore my way along the course. Not a pretty sight. Even a snarling guard dog quivered away in fear. Ah, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?
The grand finale was the “optional” hill bounding session. A technique mastered and endorsed by Mel Edwards, which involved hill reps with high knees-up, whilst touching down light on the balls of your feet. Mel had the grace and flight of a ballet dancer. We looked like something from the Thriller video on fast-forward.
After all that it was time for the last dunk in the shower, before packing and heading down for lunch and a brief feedback session..
It’s a fabulous weekend away. Although it was tough, it was a fantastic and exhilarating experience. The location was perfect and the advice was more than beneficial. It was great to spend time with people of similar interests and aspirations and chat about running without the fear of boring your listener rigid.
Armed with a head full of advice, a battered body and some great tips, I left camp late Sunday afternoon. Since then I’ve added some recovery runs to my schedule and dabbled in some hill bounding – albeit half-heartedly. I mastered the art of running down hill and I even toyed with the idea of stretching. I haven’t quite got round to abstaining from caffeine and I’m still partial to a bag of jelly babies. Hey, one step at a time.
Fact box
Weekend breaks run throughout the year and cost from £178 per person. The price includes accommodation, expert advice, guided runs and all meals.
There are also race breaks based around participation in top highland events, such as the Balmoral Road Races, the Ballater 10mile race, the Loch Ness Festival of Running and the Lumphanan Detox 10k. Personal guided running tours can also be arranged from £20 per hour, per person.
For further information, visit www.runningthehighlands.com, call 08451-577422 or email neil@runningthehighlands.com.
Organised by Running The Highlands (RTH) and managed by a team of enthusiastic runners, the weekends are designed for aspiring athletes of all levels. Neil Stewart, who set up the company in the summer of 2005, said: “The main priority is to have a great time, discover and enjoy the breathtaking surroundings and to get as much out of the holiday as possible.”
Home for the weekend was the enchanting Balmoral Estate - set amongst the magnificent scenery of Royal Deeside, in the shadows of Lochnagar.
Arriving on Friday afternoon, I was introduced to the RTH team and the other apprehensive runners. The group was a real mixed bag of ages and abilities. From early 20s to runners in their 60s. Some had never run a race and some were marathon pros. Some were fellow Scots, but most were from south of the border.
We were all assigned rooms within the Queen’s Building accommodation. I was prepared for draughty dorms with stratchy bunkbeds, but we all had our own cosy rooms – complete the TV, basin and coffee making facilities. RTH can organise accommodation according to preference and budget. A few of the participants had opted to stay at the nearby Hilton Craigendarroch.
After settling in, we convened in the recreational area for an induction and run down on the itinerary. The weekend was divided into a tight schedule of practical and classroom sessions, with time for relaxing and socialising.
The pre-weekend questionnaire allowed the guides to split the groups into packs according to ability. Participants can choose to do as much as they want on routes that are graded in a similar way to ski runs – from short and gentle green runs, through blue and black up to diamond black – the killer long-distance runs.
The first run, on Friday afternoon, set out in three groups. The warm-up for the six-mile route was a nice gentle stroll at conversational pace. The chatter soon stopped on our first ascent up a steep hill track. The underfoot snow and slippery mud made the incline even tougher. I thought my calves were going to explode, but it was all worth it when we got to the top. The views after the 1000ft climb were amazing – even though my iced-over, tear-filled eyes. Anyway, what goes up, must come back down. Full of chatter and vigour, one of the other gals and I bounded down the hill in front of the group. Top tip: Don’t leave the pack. You get lost. But that’s another story…
Back at base we had time to thaw out and clean away the muck before the next part of the itinerary – Pilates. Years of running and sporadic attempts at stretching have taken their toll on my body, and I wasn’t looking forward to displaying my lack of flexibility. Our class instructor was by Neil’s bubbly wife, Emma. Her permanent smile and delightfully sunny disposition conveyed the impression that little birds dress her in the morning. Emma showed up the basic moves and breathing exercises to build core stability – a must for any runner. It was a most enjoyable experience. There was little hardship in lying on a mattress, listening to soothing music, watching the snow falling outside. I managed to nod off – and noisily jerk awake - three times.
After an hour of relaxation it was time to get our brains in gear for the theoretical, classroom sessions. Ex-international marathon runners, Mel Edwards and Fraser Clyne, covered a wide range of topics, including cross-training, injury prevention, training schedules, stretching and preparing for race day. It was a great way to pick the brains of the masters, as there was ample opportunity for group discussions and questions.
After a sumptuous three-course dinner – passing on the wine - I crawled off to my room for an early night.
Early on Saturday morning I jumped out of bed full of the zest for life and flung open the curtains. ‘Twas a glorious site. The trees and ground were covered in an untouched blanket of snow. The only signs of life were the tiny prints the red squirrels left as they clambered up the trees to their food house.
Over breakfast we were briefed the day’s run. There were three options: An eight-mile, 12-mile or a 16-mile run. I courageously (OK, foolishly) signed up for the latter.
Ruth MacKenzie was our guide for the day. A fitness instructor by day, Ruth has an impressive fitness CV and successfully participates in duathlons and hill running races.
I was doing my usual dilly-dallying about, when my group took off without me. Thankfully the footprints in the snow were easy to follow. Mind you, a sprint start isn’t the best warm-up for long run.
Crossing fields of dense snow, even the Highland cows looked at us as if we were daft. The route alone was an exciting adventure. We ran along trails and roads, passed beautiful waterfalls, slid on ice, stomped through muck, tumbled down steep descents, gasped on inclines, crossed bridges and jumped fences – watch out for the electric ones. Squirrels played in trees, birds flew overhead and red deer came down from the hills. The charm of the surroundings and the team spirit amongst the group made it an enchanting experience. Although there was different levels of speed, everyone stayed together.
After covering 16-miles and climbing nearly 2200ft, we arrived back at base for a nutritious feast and well-deserved steaming shower.
Saturday afternoon was free time. Participants could choose to relax, take advantage of a one-to-one discussion with Mel or Fraser or sign up for a session with the on site sports masseuse or podiatrist. There was also the option of using the spa facilities at the Hilton Craigendarroch. Of course, no weekend break would be complete without a spot of retail therapy, so Neil organised trip to nearby Ballater. One of the comedy highlights of the weekend was when one of the London gals asked me if there was a shopping centre there. I’m not convinced she picked up on the sarcasm when I told her there was a Prada and Louis Vuitton store.
Early on Saturday evening we gathered meet with Dr Chris Fenn, one the UK’s leading nutritionalists, who advises top athletes on how to achieve peak performance through nutrition. On her own advice Dr Fenn has cycled America’s coast-to-coast, climbed Kilimanjora twice, trekked to the Everest Base Camp and designed the diets for the British Everest Expedition. So, we sat up and paid attention as our previous knowledge was torn to shreds. Forgot energy bars, drinks and gels. Dr Fenn taught us the evils of caffeine, processed foods and sugary snacks. She advised us on: how to boost mental and physical energy through a natural and nutritious diet; what ingredients to avoid; and how to develop new eating habits.
All the meals at the RTH weekend were based on Dr Fenn’s guidelines. The food alone was worth the trip. The chef provided the most delicious and nutritious array of cuisine that any top-class restaurant would be proud to serve. Homemade bread, fresh soup, salmon, venison, fresh vegetables and rhubarb crumble. The buffet-style breakfast and lunch displayed a variety of mouth-watering and well-deserved dishes. Not only was it very good for you, it was all included in the price. All dinner time there was also the opportunity to buy beer and wine. Hey, you’ve got to balance the bad with good.
Sunday morning was the last run of the weekend. The snow had fallen heavy overnight. News reports informed us that motorways were blocked, trains were cancelled and airports closed. Well, if we were stuck we may as well enjoy being snowed in. Prior to the run, snowmen were built and dressed and snowball wars began.
When all the hilarity was over, we stood around shivering in our wet clothes waiting to embark on a jaunt thought the thickest snow I’ve ever seen. You really start to question your sanity when you remember you not only volunteered for it, but you’re paying for the pleasure.
We set off in our packs for another six-mile run. We walked the first ascent as a warm-up. A welcome relief as most people had tender legs. Through the forest we giggled like big kids, as we tumbled down through the snow. But on exposed tracks, the strong winds and horizontal sleet battered against our frozen faces. I probably looked like a cross between a smurf and Carrie, as a I muttered and swore my way along the course. Not a pretty sight. Even a snarling guard dog quivered away in fear. Ah, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?
The grand finale was the “optional” hill bounding session. A technique mastered and endorsed by Mel Edwards, which involved hill reps with high knees-up, whilst touching down light on the balls of your feet. Mel had the grace and flight of a ballet dancer. We looked like something from the Thriller video on fast-forward.
After all that it was time for the last dunk in the shower, before packing and heading down for lunch and a brief feedback session..
It’s a fabulous weekend away. Although it was tough, it was a fantastic and exhilarating experience. The location was perfect and the advice was more than beneficial. It was great to spend time with people of similar interests and aspirations and chat about running without the fear of boring your listener rigid.
Armed with a head full of advice, a battered body and some great tips, I left camp late Sunday afternoon. Since then I’ve added some recovery runs to my schedule and dabbled in some hill bounding – albeit half-heartedly. I mastered the art of running down hill and I even toyed with the idea of stretching. I haven’t quite got round to abstaining from caffeine and I’m still partial to a bag of jelly babies. Hey, one step at a time.
Fact box
Weekend breaks run throughout the year and cost from £178 per person. The price includes accommodation, expert advice, guided runs and all meals.
There are also race breaks based around participation in top highland events, such as the Balmoral Road Races, the Ballater 10mile race, the Loch Ness Festival of Running and the Lumphanan Detox 10k. Personal guided running tours can also be arranged from £20 per hour, per person.
For further information, visit www.runningthehighlands.com, call 08451-577422 or email neil@runningthehighlands.com.
Thursday, 12 January 2006
Soldiering On - My Race March/April 2006
Joining the ranks in city boot camp
We all know the benefits of cross training. So why is it so hard to do? Firstly, runners love running. We’d happily get by on, just running. Secondly, hectic schedules make it difficult to fit in anything else. By the time I’ve done my 9-to-5 (and some), long runs and club sessions, then spend time with my family and friends, there’s barely enough time to eat and sleep.
I have tried - albeit half-heartedly - to supplement my training. Over the years I’ve dabbled with an array of alternative activities. I joined a gym, but spent the majority of the time people watching or queuing for machines. Frequented aerobics classes, but found that the monotonous combination of grapevines, marching, star jumps and cheesy pop music is an act for the mentally unbalanced. I enjoy a bike ride, but cycling on the streets of Glasgow could be classed as an extreme sport. I also adore hill walking, but only in fairer weather. There’s also been swimming (too cold), yoga (too boring), kickboxing (too many bruises). The list of activities and subsequent excuses goes on.
My latest pursuit found me in Glasgow’s Kelvingrove Park on a frosty Saturday morning. I’d signed up for a British Military Fitness (BMF) class. You can try the first class for free, so it’s worth a bash.
I arrived with a disillusioned vision of being more GI Jane than Private Benjamin. A comical fantasy considering GI Jane was trying to succeed in the most merciless fighting force in the world. I, on the other hand, was just hoping to survive a fitness class in a park.
I congregated and chatted with the 20 or so very friendly “squaddies”. BMF attracts a real mix of ages, sizes and abilities. From the novice to the seasoned recruit. The classes are run by instructors who are serving members or former members of the armed forces
The first of the three instructors I met was Brian Fernie - a handsome specimen in camouflage trousers and shiny army boots. On first sight, I wasn’t totally adverse to him shouting demands at me for an hour. I soon discovered that he doesn’t say much, but he definitely gets his point across.
To start, the instructors dish out coloured numbered bibs, along with a healthy dose of banter. It’s blue for beginners, red for intermediate and green for advanced. Each group has their own programme and instructor. I wished I had been a bit more discreet about my marathon and trekking adventures when a green bib was thrown in my direction.
Shona Cunningham, a 35-year-old Project Manager from Glasgow has been attending the classes for about five months: “As I spend the majority of my day in an office, I enjoy the chance to get outside. The classes are very sociable and there’s no requirements for fancy gear. Initially I was a bit perturbed by the colour-coded system, which induced horrific high school flashbacks. Now I think it’s a good incentive to get fitter”.
The warm up was a hoot. Running up and down a hill in a public park, punching your arms in the air has got to be certifiable offence. The giggles stopped and the shock kicked-in when an instructor barked. “Drop down and give me 20”. 20 what? I was a bit slow on the uptake. Everyone was horizontal, whist I was standing about looking bewildered. Press-ups? The last time I did a press up was when I accidentally woke up on my stomach.
“Running up a hill in a public park, punching your arms in the air has got to be certifiable offence”.
The hour continued with a mix of sprinting, hill reps, relays and strengthening exercises. We used the park’s furniture as our props. Squats and lunges from a park bench. And press-ups and step-ups on a picnic table. There was even a bit of wrestling thrown in. I had to break free from a bloke who had wrapped his limbs around me. I was chuffed to succeed, until I discovered my partner had lost his grip when I elbowed him in the privates during the struggle.
The class wound up with a jog to cool down and some abdominal work. I was glad I didn’t wear my best ensemble, when I was lying in the muck.
Philippe Roy (42) from Glasgow said: “The instructors provide continuous encouragement, motivation and put you through a wide range of exercises which vary depending on your level of fitness. You can compete with your peers and see your level of fitness improve.”
It’s a tough workout, but the camaraderie and repartee is superb. At first, I took offence to being bawled at by the others – until I realised the whole group got punished if anyone slacked off or showed any evidence of non-exhaustion. I think I was responsible for two sets of press-ups. How was I to know that putting your hands on your hips was a mortal sin?
The classes push you beyond the comfort zone by using different muscles and running techniques.
Brian Fernie said: “Slogging out the miles is not the best way to condition yourself for the distance you want to run. Cross training is essential for improved fitness and performance, better recovery and reducing injury. With BMF, no two classes are the same”.
OK, GI Jane I ain’t. I won’t be doing Demi Moore’s famous one-arm press-ups any time soon. After the class, I could barely lift my arms to wash the muck out of my hair. I would highly recommend it though. Not only is it great fun, it’s a fabulous form of cross training and speed work for runners.
Further information:
The aim of BMF is to provide a range of physically challenging activities, which will dramatically improve participants' levels of fitness, self-confidence and give a sense of achievement.
Classes are held in Glasgow’s Kelvingrove Park on Monday and Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings, with classes due to start in Bellahouston Park in the spring. And Edinburgh’s Meadow Park on Tuesday and Thursday evenings and Saturday mornings. For further information and prices, visit http://www.brit.ilfit.com/ or call 0870 241 2517
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