First of all – long time no see, I know. I’m faring marginally better recording my runs on Twitter.

Anyway, I thought I’d check in with a quick post about setting targets.

For a while, I was trying to run 8min miles. Every run I managed at 8:05 or 8:10 seemed close, but not close enough. It took discipline and a little determination to keep going out at times, but keep at it I did, and though it seemed to take an age, a few runs started coming in at 7:59 or 7:58.

So what did I do – raise the bar? No.

To be honest, it may sound lazy or unambitious but I’d spent so long missing out on my target, I decided to just enjoy hitting my target a little more often. Suddenly, I was hitting it almost all the time, then clearing it. Soon I was running 7:50s, then a few 7:45s.

Running wasn’t a chore anymore. It wasn’t something I was determined to keep doing. It was something I was enjoying. I was fairly fit, I was doing better than I hoped, and it was good fun. And while it was fun, I was improving – and fast!

Recently, I tried raising the bar again, and aiming for 7:45s. But do you know what happened? I pulled out a few 7:50s and was right back to being fed up again. The next week I’d try harder, but not get any faster.

As it happens, I’m now putting in quite a few 7:30s, and there’s no way I’m raising the bar again in a hurry now.

For all the time I’m chasing a target which is just out of reach, running is hard work, and generally without any great improvement. All those runs I go out and just enjoy, confident in my running and in the fact that I’m above target, all those runs are fun. All those runs I enjoy. And funnily enough, that’s when my times come down the most.

So it may not be ambitious, it may even sound like I’m just trying to flatter myself; but if it’s fun and it’s helping me improve, setting achievable goals can’t be all that bad.

On that note – no promises of further posts here any time soon. But if I do get 20 mins to spare, and I’m passing, I’ll pop by and let you know how I’m getting on. If I don’t, there’s no way I’ll be beating myself up about it just yet.

Just a quick post to say that I’m still alive, but there may be more light blogging ahead.

After some months trying, Mrs McrRunnr and I have sold our house, so all spare hours are being spent arranging paperwork and searching for somewhere to live.

The running continues (just!) and I’m still on track for the Conniston 14, but blogging about the runs is proving one commitment too far at the moment.

Hopefully the interlude will be brief.

I’m always suspicious of the word undulating. It’s what mountain rats call hilly. To them, it seems, Everest is hilly. The path up to base camp is undulating.

In fact, today’s run probably wasn’t even undulating, it just wasn’t race track flat. Either way, it came as a bit of a wake up call following last week.

The self-levelling property of water means that running alongside uneventful stretches of a major river, as I did for 90% of my long run last week, is flat. Very flat. And that pancake terrain is really what I have become used to running in Manchester these past six years. Flyover bridges count as hills, while I think I deserve a red polka-dotted jersey for climbing hump-backed bridges without stopping.

Cut to today: I set off confident – foolishly so, as it turns out – that James and I could crack 10 miles in less than 80 minutes. We then met up with a friend of his who could probably crack 10 miles in 80 minutes without breaking sweat, and certainly without reaching for the Camelbak he’d brought with him today.

So off, we went OK: 8:07 for mile one, 7:56 for mile two, 7:48 for mile three. So far so good.

Even 8:02 for mile four was nothing to worry about. But not long after that, I started to notice hills which had never seemed to be on this route before.

Now, Cheshire is hardly known for its mountain ranges – I’ll grant you that – but by the standards of flatness to which I’ve grown accustomed, even the slight inclines I’d never noticed before began to loom up like The Eiger ahead of me. 

Add to this the fact that, had I decided that the pain in my lungs (which haven’t had a proper workout for months) and the sluggishness in my legs were unbearable, I’d no real idea where I was, or how to get home. That dilemma – hang on and painfully make it home vs drop out and become quickly lost – is quite something to get your head around when you’re having to concentrate just on breathing. 

As it was, I hung on a little, Fast Mark decided to go at his pace (he knew where he was too!) and James and I finished having averaged a little slower than I did last week at 8:07/mile. I will get under 8, but not for a week or two yet.

A good workout, and just ideal conditions. Cold in the shade, frosty underfoot, but with clear blue skies and the low sun bursting through the trees/hedgerows/footballers’ mansions on a very quiet Sunday morning around Dunham Massey and Bowdon. I really am going to have to find a way of taking a camera with me.

By the way, the graph shows the fluctuation in my pace – not the profile of the run! I think this is the route we followed.

“Jog in again today, Chris? Nice day for it.”

Except it didn’t feel like a nice day for it. Sure, by the time I was showered and at my desk, it looked like a beautiful day outside – clear blue skies, sun shining. I bet it looked a nice day from behind the steering wheel too. 

But go back to when I stepped out of the house at 7.20, and it felt altogether different. For a start, my legs seemed to have only just got over my Sunday run, and to be honest, were quite aggrieved that I was about to put them through another run so soon – if not ever.

Add to that the fact it was dark – I’ve no idea if it was clear sky or not because, to be honest, I didn’t look up that high. You see, as well as the legs protesting, my head was also in strictly “stare at the floor in protest” mode.

Finally, and what you couldn’t see from my desk was that there was noticeable breeze too.

In short, this morning I did not want to run. At all.

With that in mind, I was glad to have left the car at home at all, never mind to have been told my the nice Nike+ lady that I had somehow managed to stay under 5min/km for the full three miles into the office.

But had it felt like a nice day for it? Not one bit.

Oh, and by the way, No I didn’t jog in today. I ran.

This evening couldn’t have been more different. Though dark again, my legs had warmed up and realised that just because I was putting my running shoes on didn’t mean I was heading out for another 10 miler. I also knew it had been a nice day, and bothered to look up this time to see that there were still clear skies overhead.

More than that, after just over half a mile, a colleague beeped as she drove past in her car. Not normally something to cheer me up, but seeing as she’d left the office a minute or two before me, I felt quite pleased that I’d covered so much ground faster than she’d managed in traffic.

That, together with the menacing strings of Led Zep’s Kashmir, pushed me on to my fastest, most evenly paced run yet – 4:54/km - not particularly fast by old standards, and only over just under 3miles, but improvement nonetheless.

Here are the static graphs, but if you prefer links, here is the morning run and evening run.

A solo long run this morning. Having fought off the instinct not to go at all, I remembered I’d already told a few mates of my plans, so couldn’t back out now. With that in mind, I pulled on my kit, picked out a bit of Led Zeppelin on the iPod and set Nike+ to 10miles and set out.

I hadn’t planned exactly where I was going but had a rough route in mind which I suspected might do the trick: straight to the paths alongside the River Mersey, head downstream as far as Sale Water Park, then east to Palatine Road, and back. (The map’s here)

Nice weather for it – dry, bright, a stiff breeze in parts but largely still. The paths were still cut up and muddy in places, but all were (just about) passable.

Considering it’s very close to a busy motorway, and snakes through built up Chorlton and Didsbury, it’s amazing how far from the city you can feel with just a hundreds yards or so of nature reserves between you and endless housing estates.

The first thing I noticed was that I was far from alone. There were dozens of runners out there today.

The second thing I noticed – around 4.5miles – was blood trickling down my face. Quite what triggered a nose bleed on a pretty uneventful run, I’ve no idea, but it showed no sign of stopping until 10 minutes or so into my warmdown. So for six miles, as well as facing the irritating trickle across my top lip, I also attracted increasingly puzzled looks as I ran past the other runners, dog walkers and couples out on the paths.

The third and final thing I noticed was the pace. I’d assumed that running without my much-fitter training partner, I’d slump to a trudge, but Nike+ reckons I actually upped the pace fractionally from our 9 miler last week and crept ever closer to a solid 8-min-mile training run.

It’s been a few hours now since the run, and my legs are already reminding me that I’ve punished them a little, but nothing too severe. Let’s see how sore I am in the morning.

Two more commutes today, and more evidence of steady improvement. I love this stage when you’re training for anything – the improvement curve is so steep at the moment that every run has something better than the last.

This morning and it was the pace. I was conscious as I set out this morning that I’d been running as fast or faster during my long Sunday runs than I was in the short sprint to the office, so deliberately set out to lift the pace a little as I trudged along Manchester Road towards Salford.

Unfortunately, while this was working quite well for the first 10 minutes or so, the effects of Sunday’s 9-miler (well, almost!) began to kick in and my legs suddenly felt heavy and lifeless. You can see it clearly on the graph here – a nice steady plateau followed by a sudden dip and then, frankly, a struggle just to keep the pace steady.

That said, I was delighted to get to the end and find I’d broken through the 5min per kilometre threshold I’d been targeting.

I didn’t quite make the same pace on the way home, despite my legs obviously being warmer than they were first thing. That said, I did stretch the route out a little and headed straight down Barlow Moor Road and through Chorlton Park; I felt like I was pushing a little harder than usual – and I did only miss out by a second or two per km.

Not sure if I’m going to squeeze in another commute this week, but my weekly mileage is already up to 15m or thereabouts and I’ll be breaking double figures for my Sunday run for the first time in months this weekend coming, so progress on lots of fronts.

Still a long way to go before I’ll be in a position to enjoy the Coniston 14, but I’m more confident with each run that I’ll at least make it to the starting line.

Next target – the 8min mile.

I’m still getting used to driving out to Alty to start my weekend runs, but it is worth the effort ten times over.

Apart from the fact I get to enjoy some good company along the way, and that I force myself to dig a little deeper to keep up, the routes from there are tremendous compared with my usual trails alongside the Mersey.

Today was another of those wonderful runs. Off road on soft footpaths for most of the first few miles – so perhaps a little slower due to the heavy mud in parts – then back through Dunham Massey and Hale (see last post for links). All fairly flat, and very beautiful.

Thanks to the mild, dry weather – and the fact we were running at lunchtime – Dunham Massey was busy just at the point I began to overheat. Nevermind.

In terms of overall fitness, today’s run was good news. Not only did we manage to shave off a few seconds/km off the pace(we’re getting close to the 5min/km barrier now) but we also added well over a mile on last week to the point that we covered the best part of 9m. I’m probably running alone next week, so I best start plotting a good 10m route now!

That said, I definitely felt the pace a few times today – unlike my company for today who, as well as nursing a hangover, confessed to having squeezed in “a cheeky 9 miler” just 24 hours earlier.

Still, for the first time, I’m beginning to think that the Coniston 14 is now becoming a realistic possibility!

Graph below. Map is nigh on impossible, thanks to the lack of footpaths on GMaps, and my lack of knowledge of the area!

Two more short runs to and from the office today.

This morning’s was cold – frost on the cars and occasionally slippy underfoot – but by no means unpleasant running conditions. The real difficulty was that my legs felt empty. I could really feel that I’d put some miles in on Sunday.

Anyway, it’s a great feeling to be at my desk shortly after 8am, having already ticked off a few more k’s.

The route home was much better. Mild, but with very light rain. Really nice to run in. Less traffic, so easier to cross the main roads, and hey – I’ve only about a dozen to negotiate on my route home – and my legs were enjoying being awake.

I tweeted after this morning’s run that I was a long way off the 5min/km threshold that I like to keep under, but tonight’s run turned out to be 5:02/km. To be fair, it felt quite fast, when perhaps it shouldn’t, but that will come in time.

Here are my Nike+ stats for both runs. The route I ran this morning is here, and this evening’s is here.

Morning Run:

Evening Run:

Today was what running – to me – is all about. The distance was challenging, but didn’t leave my legs like lead. The pace felt as fast as I could muster, while still holding conversation (just) with my running mate. Oh yes, and it was a really great run in fantastic surroundings. And a chance to catch up with a friend.

For some of those reasons, it was not a textbook, steady-paced run, as my Nike+ graph shows.

This is a rough map of where we went. Starting out in Altrincham, we headed towards and around Dunham Massey, a 250 acre country estate (and mansion) owned by the National Trust, complete with deer park. Our only problem came when we found that the River Bollin, which runs nearby, had burst its banks and flooded several fields and around 25 metres of our path. Oh well, at least the puddles in my trainers kept my feet cool for the rest of the run.

Returning through Hale back into Altrincham, we managed an average of 5mins 11 a km (or 8:21 a mile) – not great by any stretch, but not bad either considering this was my first ‘proper’ run for about three months.

A good start.

OK, so let’s not pretend. This blog might not be updated every day. It might not even be updated every week. And yes, there is a fair chance there will be no shortage of Dad Jokes (as in the title of this post).

Although inspired by Dave Fleet at The Toronto Runner (among others), this blog will be very different to Dave’s fine work. Here, you will see very few training plans. I’ll occasionally set myself a target, then meander aimlessly towards it, but the only PBs you’re likely to find as this blog develops will be at distances I’ve never run before. I probably will post maps, and links to my Nike+ stats, but that’s as close as you’ll get.

As the name of the blog suggests, most of my running is done in Manchester, UK. It’s where I live, where I work and where (most of the time) I run. It’s where trails follow the River Mersey as it snakes through nature reserves and water parks, and where canals cut a purposeful path through once-bustling towns towards the world’s first industrial city. Less poetically, it’s also where dirty great dual carriageways spew out all the things a runner should not be breathing as he pounds wet, floodlit tarmac after a long day behind a desk.

So here goes…