On-The-Job Training

Recently I've been working two jobs (hey, life in Zurich is expensive!). The work has been fun and brought some much-needed income, but the extra hours are quickly encroaching on my training time. I started off trying to go for runs in the morning before work, but as I also work night shifts I usually don't get home before 1am (3am on weekends). This made having the motivation to get up and going early in the morning pretty tough.

So that got me thinking - is there a way to incorporate training into my actual day-to-day work? Job 1: waitress - I spend hours on my feet, rushing about the busy pub dropping food off, clearing tables, bringing drinks, buzz buzz buzz back and forth. Surely there's a way I can incorporate some training into this: carrying lots of plates = strength training. Sprinting through the pub = interval training. Dealing with customers who may have had a bit too much = mental toughness.

A blur of color... and chicken wings.

Job 2 is also pretty conducive to training - dog walker extraordinaire. The dog walking path we take is around 4.2 kilometers, so a pretty decent daily training run. In the early stages of our working relationship however, I found it difficult to run with him. Mostly because every couple of meters or so he'd stop to mark his territory, or run underneath  my feet to try and play. He'd also do things like this:

Adorable, but still counterproductive...

After a few weeks I was able to get him to run alongside me. I found he makes an excellent pacer - when my pace is good, he gallops alongside me, but if I slow down he changes to a fast jog, his judgmental stare serving as a gentle reminder to keep up the pace.

Other than that, I try to run whenever possible. This practice came in very handy last night when a delayed train meant I missed the last bus home, leaving me stranded at a station 4 kilometers away. Although I was dressed in 'normal' clothes and wearing flip flops, I convinced myself to 'man up' and run the 4k home. 25 minutes later I was walking through my front door. The soreness of my feet paled in comparison to the feeling of pride I felt in this accomplishment. Hopefully I will be able to walk again soon.

This week I will start a desk job. I'm really excited about the new opportunity, but concerned how this will effect my training. I'll still be working at the pub nights, which will continue to make morning runs difficult.

Do you have any tips as to how to maintain your training when working long hours or constantly changing shifts? If so, please send your advice to me jenfrau@gmail.com!

Do You Know This Woman?

This woman has been seen around Oberhasli a lot recently. She is often found wearing a running pack, Room to Read hat and... spandex.

She can also be recognized by her running style, which two-time Swiss Olympic runner Daria Nauer once called "excellent technique".

Locals became suspicious of this dubious character when she started referring to herself as "Jen", because she does not even closely resemble the "Jen" (aka "Chubby Justin Beiber") that the townsfolk have come to know. This imposter is considerably thinner, and can often be found sweating whilst running the trails of Oberhasli. The "Jen" the townsfolk know only sweated when taking the stairs, and more often than not would be found sat in front of the television with a can of beer and finishing a pack of cheese, a box of cereal, or both, in one sitting.

If you find this imposter, approach her with caution. Her running abilities have given her a heightened sense of self whilst her considerable thinner build means she can run faster for longer, making her hard to catch. When she is not running, she can often be found tweeting or facebooking to brag about her latest accomplishments.

Breakfast of Champions

Some people like to start their day with some coffee. Others prefer energy drinks. This morning I decided I'd start my day with a 2 hour adventure run on unfamiliar ground.

I saw a little bit of this:

A few of these:

Ran up a bunch of these:

And ended with one of these:

New tip: if you start your day with a freezing cold ice bath, it can only get better.

Stark Reminder

This blog is largely intended to be a lighthearted and fun look at my transformation as I train for the hardest marathon in Europe (and some would argue, the world) to raise money for Room to Read's Girls' Education Program.

But recently some articles brought to my attention reminded me of the seriousness of why I'm really doing this. One article discussed Rumana Manzur, an Assistant Professor of Dhaka University and a Fulbright Scholar who was brutally attacked by her husband. It is alleged he felt threatened by her education and, when she insisted on continuing her education against his wishes, he chewed off her nose and gouged out her eyes. You can read The Sunday Guardian article here.

Another article explained how a man in Bangladesh cut off his wife's fingers because she insisted on enrolling into college against his wishes. The man, along with members of his family, cut off young Ms Akther's fingers and threw them in the dustbin to ensure they could not be reattached, in the hopes that this would prevent her from pursuing her studies.

Her response: "I have now started practicing writing with my left hand".

The whole BBC News article is available here.

These cases are not isolated or unique - they are just ones that make it onto the news.  Right this very second, all over the world, young women and girls are being refused the right to education simply because of their gender, usually in the form of threats of or actual physical harm. The courage these women and girls possess to continue with their education in the face of these threats and after these horrific injuries highlights how important access to education is, and how often many of us take these privileges for granted.

It also raises the question: what is it about educated women that these men find so threatening???

Today I decided a good training run would be from my house in Oberhasli up to Regensberg Castle. Regensberg is a hilltop settlement about 7k away from where I live and includes an incline of around 200  meters. This would help me not only with the whole "running" thing, but also the whole "running up a mountain" thing, which constitutes a large part of the Jungfrau Marathon.

View of Regensberg from Oberhasli

Needless to say, I had quite a journey ahead of me. Plus, it was the hottest day of the year so far. So with my trusty sidekick following me on bike with plenty of water, I headed off.

It wasn't so bad, until The Hill...dear Lord - The Hill.

Aaaaaand recover...

Aaand more hill...

Aaaand more hill...

Aaaand yet more hill...

As I made my way up to the summit of Regensberg, I noticed there were a lot more people around than I was expecting. Turns out I decided to run to Regensberg on the day of their Sommerfest. The area was teaming with tourists and locals, all out to enjoy the sunshine and BBQ'd bratwurst. And then here I come, trotting up the hill, a red-faced, wheezing, sweaty mass of determination in a Room to Read hat.

After running uphill for an hour in 30 degree weather (86 degrees Fahrenheit), public decency was the last thing on my mind. As soon as I reached Regensberg Fountain, without a hesitation, I just dunked my entire upper body in. I don't think the locals or tourists appreciated it, particularly the Hungarian couple who were posing for a picture next to the fountain as I barreled my way in, dunking myself head first up to my torso. But it was so hot. Needs must.

Regensberg Fountain, much more picturesque without me in it

The best part of running up a giant hill, however, is once you get to the top, you get to run back down.

If the marathon was downhill, I'd probably be pretty awesome.

On second thought, perhaps not.

It's All Fun and Games, Until Someone Gets Gangrene

After the rest of the Yak Pack headed back to civilization I decided it was time to settle the unfinished business between Jungfrau and myself. So refilling my water bottle, packing some extra gels and throwing on my headphones, I headed back out for a second adventure.

About 4k into this second run, as per my usual luck, the heaven's opened up and poured down upon me.

RAIN FAIL.

Despite the inclement weather, this run felt a lot easier than the first. Instead of having to stop and catch my breath every couple hundred meters, I was stopping to take in the views and snap some photos. I was feeling fresh and genuinely enjoying what felt more like a jaunt than a mission.  I put this down to going at my own pace, rather than trying to keep up with other people. This is something I'll definitely need to work on by the 14th of September.

Once again I exited the woods and was greeted with a pretty amazing sight:

BOOM!

After 1.5 hours of running, I had reached the moraine - the rocky, slippery trail made out of glacial debris. On the previous day's run, when we reached the top of the moraine we hung a left to bypass the climb across Kleine Scheidegg because of the snow. But, being stubborn, an amateur, and a bit stupid, I decided I would do the whole course, snow or no snow - "to adequately prepare" - I told myself. It didn't look all that bad:

What snow??

I just had to run along to the right side of that little peak there, turn left around it and head down to the finish line. No big, right?

WRONG.

First I made it across the peak, which turned out to have a massive gully filled with snow on the other side, requiring me to crawl along the snow using my hands and feet more than I would have liked half way through a 24k run.  But once I made it around the peak, it should flatten out, right?

WRONG.

Turns out, just beyond that peak is a very precarious and narrow ridge:

Slip towards the left, and you're rolling down a massive hill into a snowbank. Slip towards the right, and you're falling down a bottomless crevasse (yeah, I just said "crevasse"!!), never to be seen again.

NO BIG.

But despite the mountain's best attempts, I survived the ridge, only to turn another corner for precariously narrow ridge number two:

GOOD.

The finish line is just at the other side of this peak, so I can't be too far. How hard could it be?

HARD.

As just beyond this ridge I had yet another surprise waiting for me.

SNOW:

LOTS OF SNOW:

This is where I started to kinda freak out a bit. Here's why:

1. No one knew where I was
2. I had no phone to call for help
3. It was getting dark
4. It was flippen freezing
5. No one knew where I was!

My mind started playing images from the 1993 film Alive, about the rugby team whose plane crashed into the Andes and they survived 72 days in the mountains...

But then my common sense kicked in and I realized the finish line was only a few kilometers away, I needed to man up and just get on with it. So off I went, walking as if I was wearing stilts as each step broke through waist-deep snow.

The tracks of my tears.

Eventually, I made it through the snow and on to relatively solid ground - it was more like mud - but still, not snow. Winning.

With the finish line in sight, I ran up a muddy path, across a train line and eventually made it to the finish line 3 hours after leaving the comfort of my warm, dry hotel room. RESULT!

But the mountain had one last surprise in store for me. As it was a Sunday, and around 7pm, all the trains back down had stopped. So my only option after the conquest was to turn around and run back down the mountain, in the hopes that I make it to civilization before the sun set. The run down took a lot less time as I let gravity do all the work. Luckily, I made it back to the hotel in just under 2 hours and just in time to grab some protein-rich dinner before the kitchen closed.

Unluckily for me, my hotel had a "sense of humor", and made me wear a bib for the whole meal. I told them politely that I didn't need it, but they insisted, for reasons only people fluent in Bernese Oberland Swiss German can understand. In the end I was too exhausted to fight back and exchanged a bit of dignity for a hot meal.

"BUT I DON'T WANNA WEAR THE BIB!!!"

Training: Day 2

For day 2 of the Marathon Training Camp we ran part of the first half of the marathon. Early in the morning we boarded the train to Lauterbrunnen, a picturesque little village in the valley below Wengen.  As we exited the train station, we were faced with the harsh reality of the crime pandemic ravaging this part of Switzerland:

Tragic. 

The run around Lauterbrunnen is essentially flat and entirely on asphalt, but it still posed a problem for me as I struggled to keep up with the rest of the group. I still try to keep up with everyone else instead of running at my own pace - another skill I'll need to work on between now and the 14th of September.

Lauterbrunnen

After about 5k, we came to The Wall. The Wall is a point at the 26 kilometer mark where you go from flat to what is essentially a 45 degree incline within one step. Visually, it's represented by this lovely and informative graph:

  The Wall starts HERE ↑

To the untrained eye (ie. mine), The Wall looks relatively benign, and almost playful with its squiggly lines and Crayola colors on the Jungfrau course map:

Awwww adorable!

But in reality, The Wall is a monster from the bowels of hell. It was immediate. It was steep. Really steep. And it was long. Like, really really long.

The reality of The Wall

The Wall climbs for just over 2 kilometers, switchbacking up the mountain towards Wengen at a very steep incline. We passed numerous hikers headed on their way down who looked like they were struggling not to topple over as much as we were struggling to hoist ourselves up. Luckily, this is where my rugby-player-esque legs come in handy - they may not be able to run long distances very well, but they are pretty good at hoisting my bulky frame up these kinds of inclines. I actually really enjoyed the fast paced hike up this hill more than the flat asphalt run through Lauterbrunnen. And getting to the top made it aaaaaall worthwhile:

Top of The Wall

Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the dense cloud cover parted right down the middle of the surrounding mountains, revealing the village of Lauterbrunnen far below. Now only was it an incredible sight to behold, but it was just as amazing, if not more, to realize that I had just run/ hiked/ walked from there to here.  This gave me the energy I needed to carry on, sporadically turning my quick walk into a slow jog as I climbed closer and closer to Wengen.

"I ran from THERE!?"

At one point a fellow member of the Yak Pack, Craig, who had been running up The Wall - yes that's right, running, had come back down check on the rest of the group. Feeling the love, we ran together towards the "house with red shutters" landmark. Yak Pack organizer Tom said that once we found the "house with red shutters" as we approached Wengen, that's when we should really start running. Not because it was a downhill recovery, not in order to make up time, not in order to maximize our energy usage - but for a far more important reason: "It's where loads of spectators are", Tom advised. And it's true. No runner, no matter how novice, wants to be walking past spectators cheering you on. So together Craig and I picked up our pace at the red shutters, through Dorfstrasse and stopped at the Yak Pack meeting point in the center of Wengen.

This marked the end of the day for the Yak Pack Marathon Training Camp and most people got ready to return home. But I still had a few more adventures in store (due more to me accidentally booking the hotel for an extra nonrefundable night than any desire for additional training).