Marathon Chronicles: It's Shoe Time

This morning, I ran a long, slow distance of 25 kilometres. Being the longest training run I have been on so far, it was terra incognita for me after 21.1 kilometres and frankly, I feel truly spent right now. Exhausted, but still on a running high so it's all good.

I am currently using my Mizuno Wave Inspire 6 for all of my runs; this was the pair I bought just before leaving for Australia. Remember that? It was the shopping trip where Mrs. PWW and I ended up buying the same shoe. I had my stride assessed at Second Wind and Hector Yuzon gave me a run-down of the shoes that were apt for my slightly overpronating right foot, with the Wave Inspire being one of them. I chose the pair because I was looking for something new, despite his initial warning that because I was used to lightweight racers, I might struggle with the added weight on the stability shoe.

Now that I think about it, I have never truly raced with my Mizunos. I did run a 10K race with them but I didn't run it at my usual race pace, so I guess I never really broke the shoe in properly. But I wasn't worried, and it appeared that Hec's warning about the weight didn't really bother me. Until today.

I've noticed that since I've been running LSDs (that's long, slow distance) my legs would definitely struggle after a certain distance (about 15 kilometres) and my feet felt like they were dragging shoes filled with cement. I should've known better than to question the expertise of a shoe expert and accomplished runner. Good thing is, I haven't cramped like he said I might.

But I'm not taking the chance. Not for a first marathon.

This afternoon, while enjoying a lovely day at South Bank, I invited Mrs. PWW to check out a running store in the area called Active Stride. I've read about them online and have wanted to visit for the longest time, as I've been thinking about getting a pair of lightweight racers again. Arriving at the shop, I was surprised that it was relatively smaller than what I imagined (think maybe half the area of RUNNR at The Fort). But within the confines of its walls was a veritable nirvana of running gear, from apparel to shoes, accessories and even nutrition.

Usually, I'm a very straightforward shopper. I get in, buy what I need and leave. But with gear, I can be a pain in the neck, especially if I haven't done my research beforehand. This afternoon, I was the latter. I was mulling over which shoe to take home among the plethora of pairs in front of me, until I saw the Brooks Green Silence. Over a year ago, I wrote about this shoe as I was impressed by the company's contribution to sustainable technology, and because it was endorsed by Scott Jurek, my all-time ultra marathoner man-crush. So it was interesting to note that things have come full-circle since I first said I wanted a pair, and to see that desire materialise. The ladies at Active Stride were a great help, and were gracious to leave the store open for another 15 minutes after closing time so we could finish our purchases.

Yes. Our purchases. Mrs. PWW picked up a few things too. One of them being a new pair of running shoes. Which one? Well, looks like history repeats itself.

His and Hers, again. In PWW colours!

Can't wait to take these babies out for a run soon.




PWW Note: Fundraising for the organisation I have chosen to run for is still ongoing! Please help me reach my target goal before the marathon. You can donate by visiting the fundraiser site here. All donations go directly to charity. Pass the word on, and thanks in advance!

Day One: Leaving Cairns and Heading South

It felt like I was in a time machine. Or the twilight zone. The sight of our bare apartment seemed to take me back 10 months when I first inspected the space which we would call home for what then was "the foreseeable future." Little did we know that less than a year on, we would be moving on to another phase of our life together. Perhaps it was not that big a surprise, living the lives akin to the proverbial rolling stone.

"Should we wait for it?" I was referring to the accessory plate I ordered to put on the bike rack I just installed on the car. Being a stickler for following rules, I purchased a plate (it's a smaller version of the usual, specifically made for racks and stuff) online exactly a week before we were due to leave Cairns, fully confident that it would arrive prior to us starting the trip. Now, it was the only thing that was holding us up. I did not want to fashion a small plate using cardboard as I read somewhere that you might get pulled over and fined about $300 for not having an official plate.

"I think we should just head off" said the missus. As the appointed person-in-charge of our spontaneous itinerary, she reasoned it would be a massive waste of time if we held ourselves up north for the weekend simply to wait for a $70 plate. We can write that expense off if we lose it (we redirected our mail a bit too late). I couldn't agree more. In lieu of an accessory plate, I removed the rear plate number of the car and affixed it to one of the bikes. We dropped the keys off at the real estate office, and started the long journey down.

Our beast of a car, recently fully serviced, was filled with nothing but essentials: clothes, toiletries, a tent, camping gear, food, water, a guitar, two mountain bikes and cycling gear, a copy of Lonely Planet Australia, maps, a second-hand Garmin GPS navigation system, an iPod Touch with music and podcasts (mostly Good Times with Mo: The Podcast and Good Times Acoustic), a tank full of petrol, and a pocketful of kryptonite. I've openly confessed that I am one of the most obsessive-compulsive people when it comes to organising and storing things, so I appointed myself the person in charge of packing the car, and I think I did a pretty good job at it, considering the amount of things we had. I actually packed it in a way that provided easier access to things which were more frequently used, reducing the need to move things around.

Yes, I am a geek.

Someone I recently met put it very eloquently, the art of packing a car up for a trip. "It's just like playing Tetris." And I'd like to think I'm a pretty good Tetris player.

Game! Tara Na!

Now, we were ready for the trip.

But it was almost 4 PM. We wouldn't be able to cover much ground before needing to stop and set-up camp for the night.

"So where to, navigator?" I asked Mrs. PWW.

She whipped her phone out, made a call, and we were on the road heading about a hundred kilometres south.

The Epic Capricorn Coast Road Trip: An Introduction

"What's a Grey Nomad?" I remember asking that question when I first saw the term at a sign at a roadside motel during a trip along one of the long highways of Australia. On a piece of sheet metal (at least that's what I recall), the words "Grey Nomads Welcome" were written using white paint. I initially thought it might be some sort of group or gang, but to be sure, I asked my then soon-to-be-father-in-law.

A Grey Nomad is a term used to refer to folks who are travelling the country, stereotypically retired couples (hence, grey) who tow a camper trailer behind their 4X4, or drive around in a mobile home. When I first hear about it I thought, "Hey, there's a great idea." What better way to enjoy your retirement by driving from one place to another until you've seen the entire country? It certainly appealed to me, and I now think of it as a goal to strive towards. A kind of final, long-term adventure to be enjoyed during the twilight of your years.

I still have a long way to go before retirement (unless I somehow amass a ridiculous amount of money which will allow me to retire by the time I'm 45), but I had a small taste of what it would be like to live the life of a Grey Nomad.

Mrs. PWW and I recently made a change in our lives which involved moving to Brisbane, a city about 1,700 kilometres south of where we lived in Cairns. One could fly the distance in about two and a half hours, but why do that when you can drive it and have an epic road trip? Even before we made the official arrangements we needed to move, we were already thinking of a possible itinerary, knowing fully well that we were going to take our time driving down.

Time for a Cool Change

The sun's out, but it's still cold outside. It's something I need to get used to, quickly, because this is the daily climate (at least for another month or so) where we now live. I write this post in our lovely new rented flat in Hamilton, apparently a very posh suburb of Brisbane. As most of you already know, and I'm addressing my two or three avid followers, Mrs. PWW and I have recently moved from Cairns down to Brisbane, and we are completely loving it.

I'm posting this just as a quick update to let you in on what has happened the past few weeks. I plan to write about these "events" in more detail during the next few weeks; I imagine it will be much easier to do so once I get myself a new laptop to replace my old one which someone took on a five-finger discount. We have had such an incredible past few weeks before going back to so-called reality that it feels like such a daunting task to write about it all in one go, so I'll slowly chip away at the massive mountain of memories in my head by breaking them in small bits. These are the things that I will most probably be writing about in the very near future: