things you learn at 5am

5 am is a curious time to be out running. There’s something about the alarm going off at 4:50 am that isn’t quite right, and heading out the door in shorts and a singlet is also a bit wierd, but once you get going, it’s quite rewarding.

I did a bit of 5am running myself this morning, and though dark, it was quite illuminating. Things I learned:

• the world is a mysterious, beautiful place, pregnant with possibility in the hour before dawn
• curiously, this effect does not apply to Canterbury Road, Kilsyth
• there is a gym near the corner of Canterbury and Liverpool roads that claims to offer “official hammer strength training”
• I would like to have official hammer strength, or even unofficial hammer strength, but I would settle for feather strength for the moment. Probably more achievable for me.
• When you stumble across 2 men apparently having oral sex extremely noisily in the dark on the footpath around the corner from your house, it can be quite alarming

Sore knees
As you might guess, the sore knee from earlier in the week isn’t as much of a problem as I feared. A whole lot of stretching and massaging seems to have done wonders. I ran 15km on the treadmill Wednesday night, and 18km this morning at the crack of dawn.

I’m off to see the bossiest physio in Melbourne again this afternoon. She’s going to try strapping the effected knee, to see if that helps. Of course, to do that, I’ve had to shave a portion of my legs, which looks absolutely ridiculous.

So ridiculous, in fact, that when I was in the shower shaving, I figured it might make sense just to shave the whole leg, or possibly both. But then, where does one stop? Chest? Back? Arms? Before you know it, you’d be doing a bit of this:

good news, bad news

It’s been a few days since my last post, a mildly eventful few days, at least as far as I’m concerned. There’s good news and bad news, more than one of both kinds.

So, what do you want, the good news or the bad?

Well, I’m doing the writing, so you don’t get any choice.

Good news
My hamstring on my right leg, which previously held the dubious honour of being the tightest hamstring even known to the profession of physiotherapy, is no longer the worst ever.

Bad news
The new undisputed champion tightest hamstring of the world is….. my left leg.

Good news
I’ve had my biggest training month ever last month. 420km for August 2010.

Bad news
There’s a chance that might have been slightly too much.

Bad news
I’ve been having some alarming pain in and below my knee while running, and some odd sensations afterwards.

Good news
They have people called physios who can help with this sort of thing.

Bad news
Physios tend to think stopping running is a good idea. I don’t. I have a lot of running to do before 10 October.

Bad news
The physio I went to this afternoon was quite bossy and her massage technique was very painful.

Good news
She says I can run, and not just a little: as much as I want (which is quite a lot).

Bad news
I have to do a bunch of uncomfortable, totally undignified stretches, as well as some daft yoga pose, just in case any shred of dignity remained. Also, I have to go back and see the world’s bossiest physiotherapist on Friday.

Good news
Hopefully, it will all be okay.

running in the rain

It’s surprisingly enjoyable, this running in the rain caper. I woke this morning, all set to go out for a run – in fact I even slept in my running gear, how keen is that? Sadly, at 5:20am it was raining at my place, which was enough for me to roll over and hit snooze half a dozen times.

At lunch-time it was still raining, but I decided I couldn’t wait. And I’m glad I did. It was just a single lap of the tan, plus there and back from my office. 8km all up. But, boy was it a nice run! Hardly anyone around, nice and cool, not windy and not even too windy.

It was one of those runs you do with a stupid grin on your face, and when you get to the end you do an extra lap around the block, just because you can.

I’m very grateful for any running I can do at the moment. Every step (particularly the left ones) without pain is pure gold.

drunk yoga

This is one of those things that make you laugh, but are actually pretty sad. It’s Drunk People doing Yoga Positions.

Here are some samples:

Nice.

Running
None. I meant to run this lunch-time but forgot to bring my running shirt. There would be some sort of riot if I were to go running topless through central Melbourne, so: no dice. It’s okay, my knee could probably use the break.

I want Matt Preston’s head

I want Matt Preston’s urbane, articulate, cravatted head to be separated from his neck, tout de suite. Whether or not it is subsequently served up on a platter, I am entirely indifferent. George Colombaris, Gary Mehigan and that Curtis Stone character should receive similar treatment.

There clearly was a fraud of major proportions committed last night, and it cannot be allowed to stand.

I refer, of course, to Masterchef Australia’s finale, in which the title was awarded to Julie Goodwin. Julie may well be a lovely woman, a great mother and a super-competent IT person. I accept that.

But she’s not a chef. She has no organisation, not feel for “plating” the food and doesn’t know the difference between an onion and a shallot.

What she can do is cry on demand and make endless speeches about how much this means to her. Blah, blah blah. It clearly works, as the judges blatantly favoured her, even going so far as to give her advice when her sorbet went grainy.

It’s a disgrace I tells you. A flippin’ disgrace.

Running
I’ve said it before, I’m sure, but the only sure cure for sore body parts is a brisk run. After the physio, my knee was considerably sore, aching even. I even had it iced up in bed, to let me get to sleep.

That was Saturday night. On Sunday morning, full of trepidation, I set out for a long run. I shouldn’t have worried, though. The run was only 20km even on reasonably flat terrain, at an easy pace, but it felt nice. What’s more, my knee miraculously felt better afterwards.

Much better, much stronger. Strong enough that maybe I’ll enter the Sri Chinmoy 30km this Sunday.

nice shoes, shame about the legs

I had a strange experience, just after I penned yesterday’s missive. I was waiting for the lift when I noticed a woman – a stranger – staring fixidly at my feet. Most people with functioning noses pretty quickly figure out my feet are best avoided, but this lady seemed quite captivated. I should add, I was wearing shoes – my Brooks Racers. As you can see, they’re fairly spectacular, especially in a grey corporate setting:

When we got into the lift, she actually went as far as to compliment my shoes. “Nice shoes” she said. “Thanks,” I said “they’re running shoes”. (Well, they are!).

And that was more or less that, aside from about 26 floors worth of awkward silence.

That’s a first – me being complimented on my footwear.

Physio
I went to the physio this morning, to have my knee checked out. The physio turned out to be a young woman (although, when I think about it, she was probably a woman all along) and nice and seemingly competent. She asked me a bunch of questions, looked at my shoes, and then twisted and turned my legs in ways that varied from “excruciating” to “get the f**k off me you sadistic woman”.

Then she told me my knee had several “structural issues” and that I could run the marathon in October if I wanted too, but in a disapproving tone of voice. “I can’t stop you running the marathon, but you need to have a think about your priorities” or words to that affect. I get the feeling she sees a wooden right leg in the near future for me.

That may be so, but it’s a price worth paying, surely.

A massage followed, but not one of those relaxing, essential oil massages, a claws of steel-type one.

Immediately afterwards, I jumped off the massage table, then pretended my right leg collapsed underneath me. I thought it was funny, in a Dad-joke kinda way, but I did see a definite note of panic in her eyes for just a second.

Now the knee hurts like buggery. I’m supposed to run as normal, but stretch 4 times a day for the next week. If that, combined with today’s claws of steel doesn’t do the trick, then there may be an xray and/or MRI to come.

bung knee

I’ve always (well, for the past 5 years or so) had one good knee and one bad. The left one is the good one – not that you’d know to look at it – it just goes along, doing it’s thing; stoic, uncomplaining, dependable.

The right knee, however, is a whining, complaining brat of a thing. It won’t stretch properly, is continually coming up with new varieties of “tight” and reacts to a long run or two with shooting pains up and down the leg that last for days.

I’ve dealt with this in the usual way: by ignoring it and hoping it will go away. That hasn’t been entirely successful, so tomorrow I’m going to go see a physio.

I have a bad feeling they’re going to tell me someting that will put the Melbourne Marathon this year out of the question.

Hope not.

Running
I ran for 14km this lunch-time, including a quick-ish lap of Albert Park and a slow trip up Clarendon street, South Melbourne. That’s the first and last time I run up that street – too many office workers not looking where they’re going. The knee felt quite good, particularly towards the end.

Swimming
Another swim last night, and another PB. I swam for 750 metres, and could have gone on for longer if I didn’t have to pick up takeaway for dinner on the way home. My technique is still – I suspect – abominable, but I’m experimenting a lot and gradually coming up with something that makes it at least bearable.

Swimming at night is much more pleasurable – not so many teenagers stuffing around and leaking hormones everywhere.

I had a brief thought that maybe I could do a triathlon at some point in the future. I’m not committing to anything, but it’s becoming more possible.

Not sure where to start though.

not so hot

You may have heard Triple J had a big 100 favourite songs of all time thing over last weekend. It was kinda fun, partly to listen to some nice songs, but mainly to get righteously upset about people choosing absolute rubbish.

I submitted my top 10, and I’m proud (I think) to say not one of them turned up in the top 100. I’m not sure if that means I just have too refined tastes or I’m completely off with the fairies, or both.

The JJJ site seemed to be crashing constantly for me yesterday, but you can see a complete list at the Herald Sun website.

These lists are always completely subjective, and end up telling you more about the person who them together then music itself. That being said, the typical JJJ audience member is probably in his/her 30’s and has a nostalgic fondness for 90s grunge music and epic songs that sound like 3 songs combined into one (Bohemian Rhapsody, Paranoid Android). I guess if one song is good, three songs squashed into one must be 3 times as good, and therefore a classic.

Also, they seem to think music didn’t exist before about 1968, and only then if it was created by the Beatles, the Stones, Pink Floyd or Bob Dylan. The whole 20th century before that point never existed (sorry Elvis, Louis Armstrong, etc.). God forbid I should suggest there was some nice music written back before 1900!

That being said, the list wasn’t too bad, asside for some notable exceptions. Who the hell voted for Foo Fighters’ “Evermore”? Lots of people must have, because it ended up being number 9. And who keeps voting for Muse’s “Knights of Cydonia”? It’s an absolute stinking heap of tacky sheep-dung of a song. People who claim to like that song have serious personal problems as well as dubious taste in music.

Running
Since Gold Coast I’ve had a bit of pain in the knee which – helpfully – migrated around various other joints in the sub-waist area. So, running’s been kept fairly minimal. I ran twice, for 18km in total. I did however swim 3 times, for a total 1700 metres.

Today I gave running a more serious try – 11.35km at lunchtime in 54 minutes. The knee was a touch unwilling at first, but it seemed to warm up towards the end.