Trying To Be Injury Free

When people talk of running goals they usually do so in terms of targets: first to run a 10k, 12 marathon, marathon, and then to run them in specific times. I have suddenly realised that, for me, these targets are incidental. For sure they focus the mind, give training a shape and a purpose, and keep you stimulated, but they are not the most important thing. The most important thing is consistency: regularly getting out, not getting distracted, keeping going. It is the basis of everything.

So if you asked me what my running goals are, I would say I have only one and that is to keep on keeping on.

Except that at this precise moment I am not running. I have an injury that has not fully healed and so I am spending my time regretting my stupidity and fretting about how long it now takes for my body to repair itself. My Immediate goal is therefore to let the injury fully heal and then establish a routine that will allow me to stay injury free. Only then will I be able to attain my real goal of consistency.

The pathetic thing is that everytime I am injured I make the same plans but everytime I still do something stupid (my only defence is that it is often a different type of stupid). I am therefore building up a list of things I have learned. Here are my top 5

1. The most vulnerable time is when you are coming back from an injury. My injuries have certainly clustered with long periods without problems interspersed with times when everything seems to go wrong.

I think there are two reasons. The first is that there is a tendency to come back too quickly, when the pain is acceptable rather than gone. The second is more speculative but is based on my experience of back pain (when the whole of the back and shoulders freeze, not just the hurt area): when we are injured other parts of our bodies compensate and we move differently. Imperceptibly we get out of balance and when we run again our gait can be effected, which can cause unusual stresses and lead to new problems.

Lesson: come back gently. The first runs should feel easy and relaxed and you should be very aware of form.

2. Doing too much is a dangerous temptation. This is obviously related to the problems of coming back from injury in a gentle way, but it can also be a problem at other times. A tendency to overestimate ones strength and/or ability is difficult to control. It is easy to make decisions based on memories of what you could do when you were at you peak or what you wished you could do. The inevitable result is a breakdown.

Lesson: be very realistic about your capabilities. It is no use thinking you ought to be able to do something, you have to be sure you can do something. For me realism can be very painful. Sometimes I cannot bear to admit to myself that I am that slow or that out of shape - but it has to be done.

3. Be careful about training on consecutive days. This article says that the number of consecutive days is the second best predictor of running injury (however it gives no supporting reference for this assertion so I don't know how reliable it is). My experience is more to do with intensity: I have had problems with back to back hard days and so I now know variety is important and the old adage of mixing hard and easy days should be followed.

Lesson: Take rest days and make sure easy days are truly easy.

4. Be careful about changing your running style. This might be a little controversial with the current fashion for throwing away cushioned trainers and running barefoot but I believe changes can only be made very carefully and very gradually and should only be done if there is a very good reason. After all our bodies have spent many years adapting to our own way of moving and building very particular strengths. Change too quickly and weaknesses can be exposed. With me it was POSE. For some reason I thought it worth a try, bought a pair of Puma H Streets (the then fashionable minimal shoe) and Hey Presto hurt my ankle.

Lesson: such things should not be done on a whim. Only change your style if you are very sure that you need to and then do so very carefully.

5. Be careful with stretching. It is undoubtably true that running does nothing for your flexibility and a regime of stretching is a good counterbalance, which can help to maintain a good range of movement. However it is not without risk. It is possible to overstretch and cause damage. I am most likely to do this if I stretch after a hard sessions (and I think this is the cause of my current injury). I have therefore come to the conclusion that stretching and running should be separate programmes.

Lesson: not all running injuries are caused by running be just as careful with other forms of training.

Autumn

After completing my account of the South Riding I planned to have a little break before writing about the next cycle trip and get back to some running. Ha - fate has a way of chewing up my plans, spitting them out, and then laughing at me.

At the moment I am not running at all. Somehow or other I have messed up my knee and walking any distance is painful. As I am not going to run before I can walk (Yay I can legitimately use a well worn phrase or saying) I am a bit stymied.

The problem seems to be at the back of my knee, just above the calf. It feels like a tendonitis sort of pain that happens when I stretch my leg forward (as you do when you are walking). Luckily it doesn't affect the rather more limited, circular leg movement of cycling - so that is my current fitness activity.

Today I rode through the woods at Ashridge and it was glorious. The sky was cool blue, streaked with white and although the sun was clear, bright. the temperature was a little nippy but this kept you feeling fresh. Overnight there had been rain and the leaves and grass glistened as if bejewelled. As I looked at the landscape of undulating hills the wooded areas had the variegated colour of early autumn, whilst many of the fields were freshly ploughed and a rich brown that added to the colour pallet.

It was good to be out and days like this are the reason we run or ride. They pay for ll the days when it feels like hard work

Today I alsoI found this video full of lovely time lapse photography of trees and autumn leaves that reminded my of my ride. The landscape might be central European and certainly the end sequence shows a starry night we cannot match in the light polluted South of England. Nevertheless it is a celebration of autumnal beauty - exactly what today's ride felt like.

South Riding 20: The End

Diggers on the M25 and I know I am nearly home

Total: 3 Days 150 miles.

I need a final post to wrap up my journey. This has been hanging a round too long.

My initial plan was to talk about the final cycle ride and how tired I felt. So tired, everything was done on automatic. It should not have been like this as it was only a 35 mile mile day but the cumulative effect, on someone who had not been doing enough cycling before setting off, was heavy. There is not much to say about it except I got through. There were however moments of pleasure, one of which was cycling up to High Barnet and realising the hill was not as steep as I thought it would be.

Perhaps that is one of the lessons of the trip: do not over emphasise difficulties, just get on and work them out as you go along. If you are not careful pre-visualisation can be a powerful negative force.

In the end though I was happy to reach the familiar landscapes of Hertfordshire. When I finally got home a feeling of relief and happiness washed over me. After some food, I lay down and let my mind swirl with images and memories from the past three days. It had been worth doing.

This final post really ought to be a summation of what I found and an attempt to draw some conclusions. But where to start?

The answer came yesterday when I was listening to Russell Brand plugging his latest book. He was asked if he now considered Los Angeles his home. He said no and quoted a line from Howard Barker:

"In the end there is nowhere left to go than where you are from"

That is it! The summary of the whole trip.

It took me back to Colliers Wood, where I lived for my first eight years. When I stood in front of that house and walked the streets, there were a heap of memories, random events that I didn't write about:

I remembered the way my grandfather loved Music Hall and used to sing Harry Champion:

Boiled beef and carrots
Boiled beef and carrots
That's the stuff for your derby kell
Makes you fat and it keeps you well
Don't live like vegetarians on stuff they feed to parrots
From noon till night blow out your kite
On boiled beef and carrots

I have just typed that out from memory so it might not be 100% accurate (in fact I am sure the 4th line is 'makes you fit' but fat is what I always heard). It made a big impression. I can remember loving the sound of the words 'derby kell' and the idea of 'blowing out your kite'. Other, more cultured people, might cite poetry or high class literature but for me the enjoyment and appreciation of words came from Music Hall.

In the same way I was fascinated by Max Miller. My father had a record of one of his performances and I can remember playing it over and over again. Of course I didn't understand the sexual innuendo. I just loved the way he repeated things and drew you in close as if he was having a natter with the audience: "I say here's a funny thing. Here's a funny thing". I could appreciate something about the rhythm of the performance, could sense something was happening but I didn't really know what it was.

I remember my first stupid argument (not the normal tussles and frustrations but an argument about something stupid). It was with a boy at primary school who insisted the best car ever made was a Vauxhall because that's what his dad had. I got agitated because I knew it was bad reasoning but could not explain why and had to fall back on 'everyone knows its a Rolls Royce' (which is also logically weak).

I also remember something that has a link with this cycling trip. When I was seven I had a scooter that I loved to push along the pavement. One day I started out on the road to Cricket Green and just kept on going until I got there. It was not planned. I just went bit by bit. At first I was just going to one road junction, then I went to the next and then the next and so on. When I got back my mother was furious with worry and I couldn't understand why she didn't share my pride at how far I had explored (now of course I fully understand). I was not a rebellious or difficult child. I just lived in a world of my own.

Looking back suddenly understand that I am still that seven year old: I still live in my own world; I still go on excursions by bike or running; I still get frustrated by false or weak logic; I still appreciate lots of things without fully understanding them; and I still love the sound of words and the way they can be played with.

The child is the father to the man and yes - In the end I have nowhere left to go than where I am from.