Lakeland 50 2013

I can't remember why I entered the Lakeland 50 back in September 2012.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  As my running friends know and anyone foolish enough to read a few of my blogs posts will find out, my running rarely involves anything resembling a plan.  Having entered, my plans stretched as far as deciding to run a few shorter ultras during the winter and spring to get some miles in the ol' legs.  

My year started to take an interesting shape once Adam suggested that I enter the Gore-Tex Transalpine run, an 8 day stage race across the Alps, at the end of the summer.  I started to think that I could aim to get in good ultra shape for the Lakeland 50, then recover and do some more intensive training for the shorter but hillier Alpine days.  Unfortunately I failed to pay attention to some warning signs during training and racing over the winter and spring, and I gave myself a hip/groin whinjury.  This dragged on into the summer and interfered with my intention to increase my training volume and intensity, but I had managed to get in some decent long runs in, including some rare forays into the fells for the High Peak Marathon and Old County Tops fell race. I felt like I had a decent base of endurance but wasn't sure about leg strength and hill fitness. 

I gather lots of proper ultra distance runners seem to do things like set A, B ad C goals for a race, so I figured I should have a think about these myself.

• C goal: Get round. 
• B goal: Get round without anything falling off or breaking. 
• A goal: Mysteriously get round without re-awakening my whinjury from remission and have a respectable run.

Which one, if any, did I achieve? Read on... 

Due to my attendance being required at the social event of the decade on Sunday - a first birthday party in Nottingham - I had to drive up to the Lakes. I therefore chose to take the Friday afternoon off work so I wouldn't arrive ludicrously late and tired. Unfortunately the traffic was rubbish but I got to Coniston in time for a pub meal with my Mum and Michael with still enough time to register that evening. 

After registering and pitching my tent I caught up with Mike and Hayley for a change at and a beer before turning in for some much needed sleep.   In the morning I had plenty of time for breakfast, kit faffing, etc, although last minute nerves lead a quick dash to the petrol station to get some ludicrously expensive new batteries for my head torch.  I thought I had several minutes left so had a bit of a shock when I saw that three of the coaches leaving as I jogged back down the road to the school.  

Panic. Jog slightly faster. Re-check watch - a few minutes left. Phew. But actually that doesn't help me if the coaches all p1ss off without me.  Jog a bit faster still.  Round the corner into the school and... several coaches were still waiting, along with my mate Frank waiting for me and looking amused.

The long and winding coach journey to the start passed uneventfully and it didn't feel long until we all disembarked at Dalemain to loiter around in the sunshine feeling nervous and waiting for the off. I found Phil, a fellow Herne Hill Harrier and veteran of various ultras including Comrades this year. It was good to have a natter, and then we stumbled upon the topic of how long I thought I would take to get round. I answered honestly that I didn't really have a clue, using the age old technique of getting my excuses in early and mentioning my whinjury, but said I hoped to be back before it was dark, maybe 10 - 11 hours. I hadn't actually looked at the results from previous years, but since the recce from Pooley Bridge to Troutbeck with Mike had taken over 5 hours, and I had felt fine at the end but hadn't felt like we were dawdling at any time, that seemed vaguely realistic. I had an inkling that I might be able to go faster provided my hip didn't play up, but I didn't feel like I should get my hopes up too much. 

Soon it was time to line up for the start. I ambled towards the front 10%ish of the start pen, figuring that the first few miles were fairly flat and that if there was any terrain on which my soft southernified [yes, that's a word] legs should be able to keep up a respectable pace on, this was it. Shortly we were off, trotting round the grassy fields of Dalemain estate.  During the first mile or so I spotted John and John from Twitter (@Johnnnny_M and @fellrunner1975).  It was great to meet them in real life, and chatting helped to take my mind off the pace feeling quite quick.

The Johns pulled away as we headed towards Pooley Bridge so I settled back into my own pace and thoughts, but was determined to keep up a respectable jog up the long ascent up towards The Cockpit on the fellside above Ullswater.

The trail along from The Cockpit to Howtown is lovely and I felt like I made reasonable time, running smoothly and enjoying the day out. At that point being in a race added some excitement but I wasn't yet knackered and regretting - I expected that to come a bit later. I arrived at Howtown checkpoint and fairly quickly refilled my bottles, quickly guzzled down some squash, grabbed some gels and a flapjack and set off. As I was jogging the road section up the start of Fusedale I got talking to another runner, Jonathan (or maybe I was already hallucinating and calling everyone John?) who said that a friend of his ran the event last year in 09:30 and had reached Howtown in about 90 mins, so we were roughly on track for that.

The slog up Fusedale and up on to Wether Hill was tough in the heat and humidity but it was less hot that my recce two weeks before and the presence of other runners nearby, mostly called Jo(h)n, helped keep me from being too lazy.

The running along the ridge then down to Haweswater is lovely and grassy, and it was a nice mental 'tick' to know we'd completed the largest climb of the day. The undulating path above the reservoir to Mardale Head felt like hard work but, again, less so than the recce, and although Jonathan and another runner pulled away, I gained a little on the Twitter Johns.

At the Mardale Head checkpoint I tried another quick turnaround, this time downing a couple of cups of Coke as well as my "bottles and gels" ritual. I grabbed a couple of biscuits and a jam sandwich and started the grind up to Gatescarth Pass.  The checkpoint staff were all really helpful, and it was great to be able to trot up to them and be waited on hand and foot - albeit sweaty-hand and smelly-foot.

Given my lack of serious hill training, it didn't surprise me that the climb up Gatescarth was fairly slow, but I just stuck my head down and kept going, trying to munch down the sandwich and biscuits.  I struggled a bit to get the food down - in fact that was pretty much the last solid food I got on board during the race - and I started to feel quite sick not long afterwards.  I figured this might have been partly due to guzzling Coke, something I haven't tried during a run before, and I vowed not to be so greedy in future.  

One other factor which I think may have contributed to the feelings of nausea was the heat. Fortunately there was some cloud cover so I wasn't always in direct sunshine, but it was hot and humid all day. I drank quite a bit but maybe the volume of fluid was hard for my body to process.

I had been steadily passing 100 runners all day, but I caught up with a 50 runner just after I crested the pass.  He was having issues with his shoes and I quickly pulled away from him on the descent.  All in all it is a very runnable descent but a few sections did make me think that I could have gone faster in slightly more cushioned shoes... or if I was less of a clumsy footed oaf.

As the track turned into a road and flattened out, I gradually caught up with Adam, a fellow 50 runner who had apparently set off a bit too fast for his current fitness, trying to keep up with a friend.  We had a chat and he perked up enough to maintain my pace.  As we ran over towards Kentmere it seemed that our different strengths complemented each other: Adam was stronger (or less weak willed!) on the hills but I was a bit faster on the descents, as Adam was being cautious due to an ankle issue.  We didn't actively decide to run together but I was determined not to lose him on the ups and he seemed similarly intent on catching me after the downs.  Since there was still quite a long way to go, it was good to have someone to talk to, even if only the occasional grunt - it helped keep my mind off fatigue as it set in.

At Kentmere I was feeling really thirst and therefore thoroughly ignored my intention not to drink so much Coke so fast, and I downed another two cups.  Bottles filled and this time an SIS bar pocketed - no gels at this checkpoint - and I set off again.  Adam and I continued together until becoming slightly separated as I pulled away on the descent into Ambleside.  I would have pulled away quite a bit more, as I was still feeling strong on the descents, had I been more confident of the route down through the woods.  Adam was following a GPS trace so didn't need to think much about the route.  My spirits were buoyed by the cheers and applause from onlookers as I ran through the town, and I bounded up the steps to the checkpoint two at a time - probably overly energetic for over 30 miles into a 50 miler!

Adam caught up at the checkpoint and we left together once I had made a call of nature.  I was feeling mentally pretty good, as I knew that we had got over the worst of the race - there were only a few proper climbs to come, and a decent chunk of fairly flat running.  The section following the up-and-over to Skelwith Bridge is probably the first point in the race that I slightly regret not having pushed harder.  Adam was walking some fairly flat sections and, although now quite tired, I felt I could have gone faster, but for whatever reason I decided not to push on properly.  I nudged the pace a bit, which dragged him along, but once I get more used to running and racing these kinds of distances then I think I need to learn when I can push.  Having said that, who knows whether I'd have blown up later if I had pushed on.

The climb out of Langdale was pretty sharp but felt like it was over quickly, and as we ran towards the unmanned checkpoint at the road the sky was looking really threatening.  It had been uncomfortably warm all day, so I was actually looking forward to being rained on. The downpour skirted our route, so it just increased the already high humidity. I was getting to the stage that I was glad it would all be over soon. We passed yet more 100 runners on the way towards the Tilberthwaite checkpoint and they were eager to know how close behind the next runner was. They would have been on the go for over 24 hours at that point but at least they weren't far from the finish and could finish without entering a second night.

I felt slightly awkward when passing many of the 100 runners - mostly walking when I saw them. I would say what I hoped were encouraging words - "Well done!", "Stick in there!","You are doing well!", etc - and occasionally strike up a brief conversation, but I couldn't help but feel that they were mostly in quite a lot of discomfort and didn't enjoy seeing a relatively perky 50 runner cheerfully jogging past. Maybe that is just my projection of how I think I might feel so far into such an epic undertaking.

After Tilberthwaite we had one last climb before the descent down into Coniston and the finish. Adam seemed to be flagging a little but seeing a pair behind us when we were part way up the climb spurred us on. It felt like I could have run faster towards the end on my own but I had probably gained time overall by the motivation of having company, and we dibbed together at the finish. Well, we tried to, but malcoordination meant our times were a second apart. So, those people who have read this far will no doubt be eager to hear which goal I achieved. I finished joint 11th in 09:17:51, so I'd definitely class that as my A goal. Not that I really had one, of course. I was really pleased as I performed better than I had expected, and had mostly enjoyed the experience. Most importantly, I hadn't suffered any significant problems from my whinjury, although I wasn't sure how it would react afterwards.

I would recommend the Lakeland 50 to anyone who fancied a hilly 50 miler. The route is interesting, the surroundings are beautiful, it is well organised, and the atmosphere is great. Entries for next year open whilst I am abroad running the Gore-Tex Transalpine, but I just may need to find a Wi-Fi hotspot...

Lakeland 50 recce: A satisfying struggle in the heat

Given my recent whinjury situation, my training for the last few months has been sporadic at best, with few quality sessions and little time in the hills. It has therefore been with a strong sense of trepidation that I have looked forward to the Lakeland 50 at the end of this month. I have been hoping that a base of endurance built up from various shorter ultras over the winter and spring has left me sufficiently prepared to get round, albeit not as quickly as I would like to if hill fit.

This weekend I had planned to head up to the Lakes with my OMM partner Mike for a training run along some of the Lakeland 50 course, hoping that my whinjury would hold out and allow me to gain a bit of last minute fitness. I headed up to Wilmslow on Friday after work and spent a nice relaxed evening catching up with Mike and his soon-to-be-better-fraction Hayley, plus having a quick beer with some of Mike's friends in sunny Altrincham planning Mike’s stag do. It was then time for some kit faffing and an early night ahead of a fairly early start on Saturday to travel up to Troutbeck, dump the car and then get a bus to Pooley Bridge to start the days running.

From Pooley Bridge we 'ran' back to Troutbeck via about 24.5 miles of the Lakeland 50 course. I say ran, but there was a fair amount of walking up the hills, as neither of us are all that hill fit at the moment and the weather was scorchio. From where we joined the course at Pooley bridge, the Lakeland 50 course heads up to The Cockpit at the start of High Street then traverses the hillside above Ulswater to Howtown, before turning south up Fusedale and then up past Wether Hill. From there it sweeps east along Bampton Common before descending to the path along the west of Haweswater. By that stage I was really feeling the heat and also getting a little concerned by some discomfort from my hip and back, and was also feeling a bit worried at how hard I was finding it to keep up a semi-decent pace on the undulating but easy ground. Once running starts to feel hard then the inner demons begin to peer out from the dark corners of my mind, whispering doubts. Frankly I just needed to MTFU and get on with it which, after a little self pity, I did.

I spent much of the day trying to decide which I was looking forward to more: sitting in the Trout Beck at the end, or a cold pint of Coke. I kicked myself for not having brought my camera on the run, since the views were gorgeous and, I kept reminding myself, were the reward for the heavy toll the weather was playing on my flagging body.

From Mardale Head, there is the drag up to Gatescarth Pass and then a rocky descent down Longsleddale before what didn't feel like at the time but in reality is only a small climb over to Kentmere. Then there is the final slog up to Garburn Pass and a great long descent down Garburn Road to the cool inviting waters of the Trout Beck. The proximity of the end, and having been going a bit more slowly for the last few miles due to Mike flagging a little, meant I felt fairly energetic for the downhill section and the final few K flew by (with a few stops to wait at gates for Mike). The descent also brought back happy memories of a mountain bike ride with my dad about 19 years ago when we flew down Garburn Road significantly faster.

As it was, possibly helped by some preemptive 'Vitamin I', my enigmatic whinjury wasn't painful for much of the day, and I was very pleased to get some good hilly miles in the legs without many ill effects.

We had a quick dunk in Trout Beck, the best pint of Coke in the world ever in a pub in Troutbeck, then checked in the Youth Hostel in Ambleside.  After showering we settled down outside in the sun for some fish and chips, beers and lazy conversation overlooking the lake. It was a great way to relax after a cracking day out in the hills.

Today was more relaxed, with an early 8 mile run from the YHA to Skelwith Bridge and back, shower, breakfast and a leisurely bit of kit browsing in Ambleside. We drove back to Altrincham in time for a barbecue with Mike's folks and now I am on the train back to London to get back to the rat race. Maybe it's time for a nap...

Footnote: I am finally getting round to publishing this on Monday and strangely my hip feels better than it has for a couple of weeks.  Clearly the answer is that I need get out in the fells more often, east more fish and chips, and drink more beer, and my whinjury will be cured.

The blissful pleasure of cooling off in the eponymous Trout Beck.

Fish and chips in the sun.  This must be one of the best views from a chippy in the UK.

Beer... also in the sun. Ambleside YHA is in a superb location, and lazing in deckchairs on the lawn with few drinks was a great way to while away the evening... before a rather early night!