Jan 2021 – I Run Free

Rediscovering my winter kit

It snowed on my run this morning. Not seriously to start with, just the odd white flake blown past on a bitter wind. A mile or so in the flakes vanished, replaced by tiny pellets of ice needling my cheeks and eyelids, until they too were replaced by proper snow. Big, beautiful flakes whirling around me as I ran, turning a cold, grey run into something unexpectedly magical.

There is so much joy to be found running in different weather conditions, but only when we’re properly prepared. I think I got it right this morning – warm running tights, two long sleeved base layers, a light windproof jacket, windstopper gloves, and two buffs, one round my neck and one for ears and head. I started off cold, and wondered if I’d under dressed, but a mile in I was warming up nicely and was toasty by the time I finished. Truth be told, I was probably over dressed. I certainly would have been if I’d run for much longer, but for the short I run I had in mind I was just about right.

My well worn OMM Kamleika and two buffs.

Winter makes for a hard balancing act – enough layers to keep warm and dry, but not so much as to overheat. In many ways it was the little things that were crucial today: my gloves have windstopper fabric on the outer face only, so my hands were protected but not too hot, while the two buffs kept my upper chest, ears and head warm and meant I had very little bare skin to get chilled by the wind. These are the last minute bits that are easy to forget when rushing to squeeze a run into a busy day, but without them I might well have come home cold and miserable.

As it was, being comfortable while I ran meant I could think of other things, and inevitably my mind wandered to the longer runs I’m still not able to do yet. They feel like they’re in touching distance now, so instead of just wistfully rerunning them in my mind, I find myself starting to plan. There’s something so exciting about coming home and getting my running packs out, checking them over. They haven’t seen much use since my injury back in September, but I’m not too far off needing them again.

Raidlight Responsiv 12L on a summer outing.

I suspect they’ll come out at shorter distances than they might have done in the past too. Having being rather doubtful before I tried one out, I am now fully converted. I’ve got used to the convenience of it: space to stash some extra layers, knowing if I get too hot I don’t have to run with a jacket flapping annoyingly around my waist, and having snacks and water accessible as I try to get my body more used to eating and drinking while I run. It took a bit of fiddling about in the early days to get a set up I was happy with, not least with the bottle pockets on the front of the pack. It turns out that even soft bottles are surprisingly hard when full of water, which I found extremely uncomfortable pushing against my chest, so swapping to a bladder in the main pocket at the back and using the bottle pockets for gloves, buffs and so on has worked a treat.

I’ve been checking out my waterproof too, making sure the seams are still in place and seeing whether it needs a reproof next time I wash it. This time now, when the long runs are close but not quite there, this is the chance to get my preparations right, check that my kit is fully functioning and do any repairs or adjustments. Long winter runs are surely just around the corner now, they’re so close, and I need to know I can rely on my kit when I get there.

Fuelling – Or what happens when you don’t.

In very simple terms, running requires energy and energy means food. So in order to run we need to eat. Sounds so easy, right?

Well, no, as it turns out. Eating enough is not as easy as it sounds, and the consequences of not doing so can be serious.

Lack of fuel first raised its head properly when I was training for Marathon Eryri. I was ready to do my first 20 mile run, and had a plan to run with a friend who was also doing the marathon, but after a catalogue of disasters at home that morning I set off at 11am with nothing like enough food inside me. I started to run out of energy as we got past 13 mile, and by mile 19 I just had to stop and walk a short cut home. Within five minutes of getting home I was in bed, very cold, blue lipped, and feeling very, very wrong. My very worried husband slowly coaxed tea and half a bacon sandwich into me. Eventually I had enough energy to sit up properly and eat, after which I picked up fairly quickly, but it took days to get back to normal, and unsurprisingly I got hit by a nasty cold a few days after this.

I was very lucky. There was enough time to recover from having broken myself and from the cold, and still do the marathon, which was brilliant. But there were some serious lessons to be learnt there about fuelling enough, both before and during a run. Lessons I took on board, taking plenty of water, shot bloks and other snacks with me on every long run after that. I even ran the marathon with a flapjack in my pocket!

This really should have been an end to it, I’d learnt my lesson and was looking after myself properly now. Occasionally Chris would comment that perhaps I should eat a little more after a long run, so I did, but generally I was doing ok. My long runs were getting steadily longer as lockdown progressed, getting back towards my marathon training levels, but easier and more relaxed. I was just enjoying it, and enjoying what my body seemed able to do. Then in September, nearly a year after the first time, I broke myself again. A niggle in my shin turned into a sudden sharp pain that stopped me in tracks. No quick improvement, so off to Pete the physio to sort me out. But it didn’t quite turn out like that.

We tried some rest and gentle exercises, but as it became apparent that this was something more serious Pete started talking to me about fuelling, and Relative Energy Deficiency in sport (REDs). I hadn’t even heard of it, but I started to read around and discovered that, as runners, we really need to know about this. Put simply, if our calorific intake is insufficient for our activity levels the body starts to get the energy it needs from elsewhere, potentially altering systems such as metabolism, menstrual function, bone health and immunity, among others. What makes it particularly insidious is that our running can get stronger as the body gets lighter and finds new energy reserves to use up, but none of this is sustainable. As those secondary reserves start to run low, the body becomes susceptible to stress fractures or infections and everything comes to an abrupt stop.

I’ll never know for certain whether I’ve actually had REDs, but I do know that I’ve hovered perilously close to it. The pain in my shin was never fully diagnosed, but after everything else was ruled out both my physio and GP concluded that it was a suspected stress fracture. Four months later I’m running again, but very slowly and carefully, sticking to flat, even routes that are far from the hilly trails and mountains that are my first love. And I’m so angry with myself for having landed myself in this position.

Looking back on my last few proper runs before it all went wrong, I cannot believe how badly I was looking after myself. Surely anyone can see that a 14 mile run requires more than just a normal breakfast before and standard lunch after? Surely sense says that the more we exercise, the more we eat? After all, when did you last meet a runner who didn’t look forward to cake after a long run?

Well, no, I couldn’t see it. And that is the biggest problem of all. Recreational runners are one of the highest at risk group for involuntary REDs (voluntary REDs, where athletes deliberately restrict their calorific intake is a whole other story). We don’t have coaches or dieticians to keep an eye on us, and inevitably life is hectic so we squeeze the run in, and then come home and get on with everything else that needs to be done. By the time the next meal comes along are we really thinking about how many extra calories we should be taking on board, or have we slipped back into the usual routine and forgotten that our body has worked harder than usual today? I did the latter, again and again and again, until I no longer had any thought that a long run needed special fuelling. After all, if I was chatting and enjoying it all the way round, it wasn’t really hard work, was it?

This is the lesson I am so desperate to pass on to other runners so that they can avoid this horrible, and entirely avoidable issue. As the miles slowly creep up through training, the food consumption needs to creep up too. It doesn’t need to be overly scientific, we don’t need to log every calorie, but we need to firmly embed the idea that energy output requires energy input. Running on fumes will only get us so far.

Stopping now to think about everything I’ve learnt over the last few months I realise that there is a remarkably positive spin to be put on this. Through the simple act of eating a little more as my recovery continues, and more again as the miles creep up, I have every expectation of not just completing my recovery but of being a stronger runner than I’ve every been. After all, if I’m no longer running on fumes, my running future suddenly feels exciting again. And best of all, it feels like the future might be long. That’s got to be worth a little extra thought about food.

Some useful links for more reading/listening about REDs

Recovery step 2

Now I’m starting to get somewhere. I’ve hit two significant milestones this week as I slowly edge my way back to pre-injury levels of running. There’s still a very long way to go, but I’m starting to see it, poking over the horizon as I run towards it.

Milestone 1 – I made it all the way round Cardiff Bay. This is one of those runs that has always been a benchmark, harking back to my early running days working so hard to get round it. I’d been working my way up very slowly and methodically, three runs a week then up the distance by half a mile provided the runs went well. That’s fine early on, but by the time I hit four miles the constant clock watching was getting me down – is my pace ok? Will the run be far enough? What if it’s too far, will I make it home? Add to all that the sheer tedium of running the same route every time, just because I was confident I could work out the distance, and I was at serious risk of losing my running joy.

Time for a chance of tack. Surely getting back to four miles was enough to start trusting myself again? How about choosing a shorter route, but not looking at my watch and just listening to my body instead?

Every now and then, at the most unexpected moments, we just get it right. I came back after that run feeling energised and positive so a few days later, in desperate need of a proper change of scene, I laced up, hid my watch under my sleeve, and set off for 5 miles around the Bay. At last I could run over the barrage again and feel the wind (and rain!) in my face, with the scent of the sea and the views across the Channel to keep me going. It’s something special even on a drizzly day in January, and more than ever this year after waiting so long to get back there.

I may not have planned the timing, but I always knew that milestone number 1 was something I was actively working towards. Milestone number 2, on the other hand, was a completely unexpected treat. We’re still in lockdown, have been since before Christmas with no end currently in sight, so I didn’t think there was any chance of running with someone else. I’ve missed it dreadfully, the company, the chat and the camaraderie, then out of the blue today my eldest son decided to come with me, cycling next to me as I ran. I’d forgotten quite how hard running and talking can be as he chatted perfectly naturally, riding gently beside me. But I settled into it, slowly picking up the pace as I remembered how to breathe and talk, rediscovering the joy of a shared experience in the outdoors.

Recovery is a slow process, there’s no hiding from that. Even when progress is good, it takes time to build up strength and endurance again, without risking a relapse by pushing too hard, too soon. Small milestones along the way can make all the difference, achievable goals to remind us that we are moving in the right direction. Ticking off those goals and setting new ones is going to give me a focus now, a nearer focus than the big one of being back to pre-injury strength. If I’m lucky, those little goals will hide the big one for long enough to get me there without realising it.

Farewell 2020

Glad to see the back of that one, it has to be said. A year of up and downs in ways that were simply inconceivable twelve months ago, best illustrated in my Strava graph for the year.

Rather frustratingly, the start was fantastic: a muddy night race in the Forest of Dean, more muddy night runs with friends, and a fabulous run along the coastal path being just three of the highlights. But in the background this new word kept cropping up in conversation: coronavirus. As we moved into February and early March it went from occasional mention to only topic of conversation, then suddenly one of the boys was sent home from school with a cough and that was it, we were in isolation for two weeks. Within days of that happening the national lockdown began, and our world changed and shrank around us.

I’ve talked before about how running in lockdown changed my understanding of the running community around me, but it also changed how I ran. Running for sanity wasn’t new, but now there was nothing to be gained by doing my old 5k routes, even if I’d smashed by old PB (I didn’t!). Running was about escaping, escaping those same four walls, escaping the city and the walking routes we used nearly every day. And so that meant distance. For months I barely did a run under 8 miles, and if I did one, it had to be hilly. In the back of my mind I wanted to be prepared for my weekend with Girls on Hills, but these runs were also, as lockdown eased a little, my way to socialise, and I thrived on them. I even managed a run with my brother during the summer, a rare treat indeed.

It wasn’t all good. For all that I loved my weekend in Eryri, it was just that, two days. All those runs I had looked forward to in the Brecon Beacons and the Valleys had vanished, along with everyone else’s plans for 2020. Every time I thought it was safe to look ahead something came along to bite me – local lockdowns, firebreaks, then finally injury, putting paid to the entirety of the autumn.

So it is with some trepidation that I say roll on 2021. We’re still in a lockdown, my leg still hurts, there is a very long way to go. But there is hope, personally, nationally and globally. It won’t be quick, but we have the promise of vaccines to bring us back together again, and I’m starting to believe that my leg really will be healed and back to full strength this spring. 2020 brought the most incredible challenges, but we’re still here, and still running forward into 2021.

There’s the small matter of a 40 mile race in June too . . .