The High Peak 40

Votwo Jurassic Coast Challenge

I have just completed day two. For the time being, here are a few wearily snapped photos from the nice bit (scenery-wise). Apologies for the resolution - they are taken on my ancient waterproof Samsung.

The runner in red is Simon who I ended up running with for most of the day. It was good to have the additional motivation of someone nearby - I suspect I would have slacked off a bit more if it hadn't been for the company.

Trying to run fast - part 2

[Continued from Trying to Run Fast]

Apologies in advance to anyone reading this.  The main aim of my blog is to keep a record of some of my thoughts and memories of racing - I appreciate that it isn't exactly a thrilling read!

The next weekend I hadn't been going to race so knocked out a 16M training run in the Saturday, but my club was putting on a 10k race in the park near my house on Sunday so I figured I may as well race. I ran 38:07 on a lumpy course which felt like hard work on tired legs but was probably good training.

The next weekend I ran Dulwich parkrun in 17:47 which is still my PB.  Looking back at my training log I had a fairly solid week after being lazy and having the Sunday off:

 - Monday: 16.5M @ 7:20 pace

 - Tuesday: hill reps

 - Wednesday: 7M home (feeling tired)
 - Thursday: hill reps (faster)
 - Friday: 5M easy lunchtime run with a friend

This seems to have set me up reasonably well for the Self Transcendence 10M race in the pancake flat Battersea park on Saturday at which I was very happy to crack the hour barrier (59:44).  I topped it off with a hilly 17M+ hilly trail run with Adam the following day.

The next week was lighter, with a rest day on Monday, intervals on Tues, 13M run home on Weds and an easy 5.5M on Thursday followed by a rather lazy two days of rest (and seeing relatives) in preparation for the Brampton to Carlisle 10M on Sunday 17 November.  The B2C has been going for some time - 2013 was the 62nd running of the event - and various superb athletes have taken part over the years, including Ron Hill and Steve Cram.  The course record is a bonkers 45:50.  Yes, forty five minutes and fifty seconds for ten miles.  That's chuffing fast.

The day of the race was fairly nippy day but I decided to stay true to my northern roots and run in just a vest (well, I wore shorts, trainers, etc, too!).  It was a cold start but with a race as intense as a ten miler I tend to warm up a lot... or at least I am so busy feeling knackered that I forget about how cold my hands are.  The start of the race was at my old school and it felt a bit weird being back there after so many years.  In true Cumbrian fashion, the road just in front of the start line was partly blocked by a lorry transporting sheep - maybe this was just a nice touch put on by the race organisers to add to the atmosphere.

As many races do, the event started pretty quickly, exacerbated by the fact that the first two miles are net downhill.  I ran about 5:41 and 5:44 for the first two miles, finally dipping back towards 5:58 in the third mile which had one of the few small rises in the race.  I had the lovely surprise of being greeted by my wife (Shayda) along with my nephews at about the three mile point - a great little boost as things were starting to feel hard.  My excitement got the better of me again and mile 4 was a 5:48.  I started to feel the effort a bit and my pace began to decline - 5:55, 6:00, 6:06, 6:08 for miles five to eight.  In the midst of mile eight I received an unexpected boost when a horse I was passing reared up at my causing me to 'sprint' - or perhaps just stagger slightly faster - in terror, and it gave me an adrenalin boost.  A slight aside but I highly recommend having your life threatened by a large crazed beast as a means for boosting your race performance.  I managed a 6:03 for the ninth mile despite another little hill, and then managed to grit my teeth for a 5:53 final mile... helped by a juicy downhill onto the bridge across the Eden.  I finished feeling exhausted but elated, 42nd overall in 59:12.  (Okay, those times don't quite add up - I took them from my GPS which was no doubt a little out).

The B2C was the Northern Athletics 10M Championships which I qualified for due to being born in Newcastle, and I finished 20th in that - sounds better than 42nd (which includes several rather rapid women who chicked me) - running a decent chunk under the hour and shows that the previous week's race in Battersea hadn't been a complete fluke, albeit on a course that is net downhill.  I was really starting to feel the addiction of this road racing shenanigans, enjoying the challenge of running hard and also the geeky joy of aiming for the next arbitrary numerical milestone.  I decided that I'd aim to push down my half marathon time next...

Heading t'Peak

So... I am back running regularly, getting in 5 or so runs per week consistently for a few months. I have started doing one interval session per week and my long term hip whinjury seems okay - it is still there, lurking in the background, but hasn't flared up significantly.

This weekend will be an entertaining test... Having barely run off road since the Transalpine race in 2013, I am heading up for a recce of some of the High Peak Marathon route with Adam, Duncan and, if he can get there through the snow, Andy. The MWIS forecast says there will be winds 40-65mph on the tops with a temperature of -17c with windchill.

Here we go...

A hard but satisfying return to road racing

I ran the inaugural Surrey Half Marathon on Sunday. My chip time was bang on 1:23 so this was my slowest time - admittedly only by a few seconds, and I have only done three HMs. So why am I happy not to have run any faster?

After a productive autumn of road racing, knocking out my first two half marathons and three ten-milers plus some other bits and bobs, and seeing a good progression in times, I had planned to run a spring marathon. Given my race times I was hoping that a solid couple of months of training would mean I could have a realistic crack at something around 2:50 - bearing in mind that I haven't run a road marathon before, so I don't really know how I'd fare.

I then had a flare-up of a long term hip whinjury that I has been lurking in the background since Spring last year so I put my marathon plans on hold.

Trying to run fast

Or: How I learned to stop worrying and love road racing

Crikey, this blog post is rather delayed... I had meant to finish and publish it about a year and a half ago. Oops. I will finish this section and publish it now... 

I had deliberately not planned any ultras or other epic shenanigans for after the Gore-Tex Transalpine so I could just see how I felt afterwards and see what I fancied doing with the rest of the year. Despite having run to some extent for almost two decades, I have never got round to doing much road racing so I decided I'd find some local races to take part in during the autumn: this would hopefully provide a new challenge, motivating me to train, and would also take up less time during the weekends than training for or running ultras.

True to form, I didn't do this in a very structured manner: I just decided to find a bunch of local races and have a crack.  In particular, I thought I'd enter a half marathon, since I'd never done one before.  A colleague had mentioned the Ealing Half Marathon so why not?

All in all I ended up taking part in two 10ks, three 10Ms and two half marathons, with a couple of Parkruns, a couple of cross country races and a 24M fell running challenge thrown in for good measure.

Following the Transalpine race, it took a couple of weeks for my immune system to recover from the lurgy I had suffered from during the event.  Two weeks of relative rest probably did my fitness no harm, and also gave my muscles, tendons, etc a chance to recover from eight hard back-to-back days in the mountains.  From past experience, I have a tendency to injure myself by not resting sufficiently after hard off-road events - I tend to get over-excited and fail to rest - so at least this time I didn't have a choice!  I had also had a slight recurrence of the hip and groin injury that had beset me during the summer.  This was frustrating and puzzling in equal parts: why on earth had the whinjury been fine during the Transalpine yet problematic on gentle road runs since?  (Answers on a postcard to the usual address).

A low key charity 10k organised by 'For Crohns' gave me a chance to test my fitness and to see how the whinjury held up to more intense running.  The ol' war wound felt stiff during the warm up but it didn't bother me during the race.  Running fast - or trying to - was a bit of a shock to the system, but I managed to gradually move my way through the field into 3rd place, clocking 37:18 (a PB by about a minute but my previous PB was on a hilly Crystal Palace course).  I am not sure whether I can honestly say that I enjoyed the race - it felt like really hard work!  I was gasping for breath, my heart was thumping, my lungs were struggling, and I felt generally knackered.  Definitely Type 2 fun, and something a plodding ultrarunner was unaccustomed to. 

Next up was the Ealing Half Marathon (29 Sept).  This was my first half marathon and I hadn't done any specific training but I figured that I should have decent endurance still, so sub-1:25 was doable.  Probably more by luck than judgement, I managed to pace the race reasonably well.  According to my GPS, which cannot necessarily be relied on too much on such a wiggly course, my pace per mile varied between 6:05 and 6:31 but the course was undulating as well as twisty so I was reasonably pleased.  Again, the race felt fairly uncomfortable but I was starting to get a perverse enjoyment from the controlled struggle to run fast - or at least fast for me!  I got round in 1:22:54 and was definitely buzzing afterwards.

Real life got in the way for a couple of weeks but on 20 October I entered the 10M 'Beat the Hour' race in Hyde Park.  I didn't realise until just before the race but there was going to be a pacer running one hour pace.  Since I was expecting to run a minute or so slower than the hour, I didn't feel brave enough to take a risk and try to keep up. In the end I finished narrowly missing the hour which rather surprised me - pleasantly! It was perhaps a shame that I didn't have a go at following the pacer, but then it is always easy to think of improvements retrospectively. 

To be continued... 

The Gore-Tex Transalpine run 31 August to 6 September 2013

[This is a post written for Herne Hill Harriers quarterly magazine 'Red and Black'. Update: Photos now added]

The Gore-Tex Transalpine race: an eight day stage race for teams of two through four countries covering 261km with 15,879 m of ascent.  When thinking about how best to describe my experiences of the Transalpine race, two principles that I was first introduced to in my rock climbing days sprang to mind.  Firstly, 'Get your excuses in early', and secondly, 'Type 1, 2 and 3 fun':

• Type 1: simple, instant gratification - what normal people call fun.
• Type 2: not pleasurable at the time but something that you enjoy looking back at - retrospective fun.  
• Type 3: really just not fun at all - the only pleasurable thing is surviving.

The first principle feels relevant because the several months leading up to the Transalpine had been mixed: I had been suffering with a mild but prolonged hip injury which had restricted the volume and intensity of my training, in particular the amount of hilly or off road training.  I had, however, got in a few good training events such as the High Peak Marathon, a 42 mile night orienteering event, and the Old County Tops, a 38 mile fell race in the Lake District.  A good result in the Lakeland 50 at the end of July without any significant problems from my injury gave me a boost, and gave me the confidence that I would be able to increase training volume prior until the Transalpine race.

Fast forward a month and I reached the event feeling positive, albeit rather tired from a busy week in the US and then two days of travelling to get to the start of the event in Oberstdorf, South Germany.  On Saturday 31 August, Adam and I lined up with over 730 other runners in the start pen to run the first stage from Oberstdorf in Germany to Lech in Austria - 34.6km with 2.1km of height gain.  The nervous excitement of the event was heightened by the organisers' eagerness for motivational music, with an intriguing combination of Europop and dated rock tunes.  After hearing it several times on each of eight consecutive days, I think I heard Highway to Hell enough to last a lifetime.  Although this level of hype was a little alien to my British sensibilities, I couldn't help but get carried away with the atmosphere.

At the luxuriously late start time of 10:00 we were off, a line of hundreds of runners snaking our way through the narrow roads of Oberstdorf, cheered on by hundreds of spectators.  The start of the stage involved 2.5km of flat running along roads - ideal for a soft London based runner - but then we got onto trails and started the big climb of the day, gaining 1.4km of elevation in about 12.5km.  As I had expected, I didn't feel all that strong on the climbs, but the gorgeous scenery helped to distract me from the hard work, and Adam and I managed to keep up a respectable pace, reeling in a few teams towards the end of the day and finishing in 18th in the Mens category.  A good dose of Type 1 fun liberally sprinkled with Type 2.

In the evening after each stage there was a 'pasta party' which gave everyone a chance to recount stories of the day whilst refuelling prior to a briefing about the next day's stage. To someone who has experience of fell running in the UK it was amusing how strong the warnings were about 'dangerous conditions' on some of the stages. Admittedly there were a few sections with significant drops, but generally with fairly benign underfoot conditions, and the toughest sections were no worse than a Grade 1 scramble. The final part of the evening was a photo and video montage of the day; these really captured the atmosphere of the event and provided a chance to admire the wonderful views some of which were missed earlier on that day due to exhaustion or having to concentrate on the rocks whilst pelting rapidly downhill.

The second stage took us from Lech to St Anton, relatively short at 24.7km but still with 1.9km of climb and including a quad-mashing 1.5km descent at the end.  Adam is a better runner than I am but I was struggling more than expected to keep up with him on the second day, and we finished 23rd in our category on the day, just retaining a top twenty spot on cumulative time. Still a healthy blend of Type 1 and Type 2 fun. Both Adam and I had started to have issues with the skin on our heels from the long fast descents. By the later stages of the race significant parts of my feet were essentially held together by white tape.

That night things took a turn for the worse, as what I thought had been a minor cold that had been niggling away for a few days turned out to be a fever. Waking up repeatedly feeling terrible and covered in sweat was not an ideal way to spend the night, especially prior to a 38.4km stage with 3km of climb. I had very strong doubts that I would get round the stage but was determined to give it a go, not wanting to let myself or Adam down. Although the day was a rather uncomfortable struggle, I did get round in one (slightly dishevelled) piece. In fact there was a small part of my brain which was disappointed that I had managed to finish the stage: if I had been physically incapable of finishing then I could curl up in a ball and rest, but as it was I didn't really have an excuse to stop so I'd have to carry on enduring what was definitely Type 3 fun. Ah, well, only five more days to go...

Stage 4 was hard work and stage 5 was worse: the uphill sprint, climbing 947m over 6.3km, albeit with the luxury of 11m of descending on the way. My body really wasn't in the mood for such an intensive effort, and I had to lie down afterwards. More Type 3 fun. I did appreciate that the stage was so short, however, as it meant I had more hours of recovery time. Possibly because of this, I felt significantly more human the next day. This allowed me to enjoy the stage, taking in the scenery which included climbing up a spectacular gorge with a path hewn into the rock to then emerge onto a gloriously sunny alpine plateau. The balance had swung back towards Type 1 and 2 fun!

I started to feel almost human by stage 7, which was fractionally beyond marathon distance with 2.3k of ascent, and we finished 22nd on the day, our second best position to date. On the final stage I was feeling feeling better again, and we finished the stage 17th on the day, scraping our way up to 20th overall. It was great to be able to perform at close to the level I had been hoping, and I really enjoyed competing with teams on the run in to the finish, overtaking several in the last few miles. At last, the return of a healthy dose of Type 1 fun. The feeling of elated exhaustion as Adam and I ran in through crowd-lined the streets to the finish was something that I will remember for a long time.  

Although it was disappointing to have been ill during the event which meant both that I was not able to run as well as I would have liked and that quite a lot of the week was rather unpleasant, there is a certain satisfaction having completed the event despite this challenge, and I definitely have memories I will keep forever. The race is certainly one I would recommend to someone wanting a European trail running challenge: the scenery was spectacular, the atmosphere was friendly and exciting, and the event it was very well organised. Feel free to quiz me if you are tempted.

Cheesy smiles before the start of Stage 1

Chilling out after the first stage

Grimace for the camera

A view of the Stage 3 descent from a cable car

Staying in hotels (as opposed to in places like the nuclear bunker [yes, really!]) was a nice luxury and had it's benefits

Cruising along in the sunshine on Stage 8

Some lovely singletrack during the mammoth 3km+ descent on Stage 8

Gore-tex Transalpine - three down, five to go

A very quick post about the first few days of the Gore-Tex Transalpine race.

Stage 1: 34.6k, 2k ascent, 1.4k descent. Pleasant weather and a tough but mostly enjoyable start to the race. We toddled round to 18th (?) place in the men's category... but we were beaten by a mixed team and a women's team, along with some masters. It was a pretty pleasing result in especially given the jet lag and general fatigue. Annoyingly the skin on both of my heels had started to shear a bit, which was concerning for the coming days, and I decided to try a different shoe choice for the next stage. I took a couple of videos that I will upload another time.

Stage 2: a mere 24.7k, with 1.9k ascent and 2k descent. Possibly due to a cold which had been lurking for a few days, I was finding it tough and was slowing Adam down a bit... but that could have just been general lack of fitness, and Adam is generally a stronger runner. We finished a bit further back in the field but still stayed top 20 in the men's category overall.

The Heels of Doom held out, although unfortunately Adam started to have the same problem. I am clearly a trend setter.

Stage 3: 38.4k with 3k ascent and 2.4k descent, split into two BIG climbs. That is a metric chuffload of climbing. I struggled more today. My cold was fairly full blown and I was having difficulty breathing properly - I had to stop to retch at the side of the trail on the first climb. We probably went a bit too fast on the first climb for my level of fitness/wellness, and were overtaken by quite a few teams in the middle portion of the race. We picked up a bit towards the end, especially on the final downhill, and took a few of those places back, finishing outside the top 20 but only dropping to 20th in the men's category overall.

Tonight's pasta party, prize giving plus photo and video montages were held on the hillside above Samnau (Switzerland) with great views. A few photos to give a feel: the first is for the balcony of the restaurant, and the second shows some of the descent route as viewed from the cable car. Oh, sscratch that, the Blogger mobile app refuses to let me to post the photos and I'm too tired to try to persuade it. Time to try to sleep... 

Transalpine prep... or not

Since Wednesday the 21st it may have appeared, to the casual uneducated observer, that I have been on a holiday based around two family weddings, but actually I have been executing a scientifically calculated taper phase for the Gore-Tex Transalpine run.

This has involved:
- being press-ganged into my first attempts at Iranian dancing [gentle, if embarrassing, cardiovascular exercise]
- flying across the Atlantic twice [altitude training];
- sightseeing in and around Washington DC [heat and humidity training];
- not a great deal of sleep [fatigue training];
- eating my own bodyweight in tasty Persian food [carbo loading].

In the midst of the sightseeing, the weddings and the many 'mehmooni'* I squeezed in a few runs. It was hopefully enough to keep things ticking over and to loosen my legs off, and at least I shouldn't be over-trained when the race starts! It was great to meet more of my extended family and to experience a bit more of the Persian culture. I really should re-start learning Farsi...

So, I am writing this on the flight back to Blighty for an overnight stopover at the airport before flying out to Germany. Things have been so busy recently that I haven't had much time to think about the upcoming race but now the excitement and anticipation is building.

*Iranian parties at which I met approximately three thousand** of my mother-in-law's family.

**This may be a slight Iranian-style exaggeration.

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...

Transalpine Terror

I met up with my friend Adam for a gentle post-work jog yesterday evening around the roads, paths and trails of Guildford.  It was probably the slowest we have ever run together on a route so short and tame but was just right, since Adam's legs are recovering from the brutal Snowdon race last weekend and I am supposedly tapering for the Lakeland 50... although tapering seems to imply that there has been an intensive training phase, which is something I haven't really managed!  It was great to catch up, and we nattered away as we jogged round through Chantry Wood.  Talk soon moved to the topic of the big race we have entered at the end of the summer: the Gore-tex Transalpine Run.  The race is an 8 day stage race from Oberstdorf in Germany to Latsch in Italy via Austria and Switzerland.  This year will be a 'short but hilly' route of around 250k with 15k of ascent.

Most days are about 35-40k, with around 2k of height gain.  And I am only just recovering from a whinjury.  And I haven't started training properly. Gulp.  Frankly I am a bit scared.

So... the Lakeland 50 should be a nice long hilly training run which I hope will kick start an intensive month or so of training.  The race is run in teams of two, and Adam and I are running together.  Adam is a better runner than I am - not hard, I admit! - so I really need to pull my finger out and gain some fitness, especially hill strength and top end speed, so I am not trailing behind him too embarrassingly.  Once I come up with a training plan I will aim to post it on here so I guilt-trip myself into sticking with it.  Watch this space...

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!

A weekend in the Lakes - day 2

25 July 2013

Two friends, Chris and Lynne, were also due to make the trek up to the Lakes, staying in Langdale at Baysbrown Farm campsite, so we decided to drive over to Langdale and see if we could meet up with them.  We parked at the National Trust car park at the New Dungeon Ghyll in glorious sunny weather, contrasting completely with the persistent heavy rain I had experienced a week earlier when I was there for the Old County Tops fell race (which I should also write up...).  We sauntered down the valley to Baysbrown Farm, stopping on the way to sit in the sunshine, look over towards Stickle Ghyll and up to Pavey Ark and to have a look at the scrambling guide for inspiration.

The view towards Pavey Ark:

A scramble up Stickle Ghyll followed by Pavey Ark seemed like a nice route, so once we met up with Chris and Lynne we head back to the New Dungeon Ghyll to get going.  As you will see from the photos, the weather was glorious - a superb day out was had by all. 

Some parts of Stickle Ghyll were more moist than others:

Most of the rock was good quality and the scrambling good fun.  Shayda and I both used to climb - indeed, our first date was grit climbing in the Peak District - but a foot injury has meant that she can't put climbing shoes on these days.  That made it especially enjoyable to get out scrambling, remembering how much fun it is to move over rock again.  Once at the summit we added Harrison's Stickle to Shayda's Wainwrights tick-list... which we should actually make into a list before we start to forget which ones she has done.

Note that the rescue helicopter pictured below appeared to be on a training flight.

A gentle jog along the Vanguard Way

After yesterday's 24k trail race, The Hurt in the 'Little Switzerland' area of Surrey, today had something slower but longer in store: supporting Jonny Muir on the last twenty-something miles of his run along the Vanguard Way.  In case you don't read any further, then first of all please note that Jonny's run was for charity as part of the Vanguard Challenge - a fundraising effort for a great cause which he describes in his blog 'Heights of Madness'.

Due to some hold-ups caused by the London to Brighton cycle ride, it took a bit longer for Jonny's trusty support crew (his parents) to drive Duncan and I to the route, so we ended up meeting Jonny a bit further north than originally planned.

We parked up near Potter's Wood and jogged back south to meet Jonny near Bowshot Wood.  If, like me earlier today, you don't have a clue where those places are: somewhere a little bit east of East Grinstead.  Jonny had started at six in the morning and had been running very strongly on the early stages, running the first marathon in around 3h30m.  I think he had started to flag slightly by the time we met him, but our appearance seemed to raise his spirits, and the three of us set off northwards at a respectable pace.

For me, the next few hours were a pleasant Sunday training run in great company, running about 24.5 of the last 23.5 miles of the Vanguard Way.  (Yes, we went slightly awry at one point where the generally poorly signed route wasn't obvious).  I think Jonny said he probably ran 68 miles or so in total i.e. beyond the intended 66 miles.  It was great to catch up with Duncan and Jonny, and there was the added entertainment of our repeated attempts to persuade Jonny to eat and drink some of the array of tasty morsels we had on offer.  I expect that this will be good practice for dealing with small children in future years.
As there always are with these occasions, Jonny's spirits and speed ebbed and flowed, and Duncan and I did our best to thrill him with witty banter to take his mind off what was clearly becoming a fairly hard slog.  Jonny's run was part of a larger fundraising effort from the school at which he works, and there was a wonderful moment a few miles from the end where we ran through a throng of the school kids who were near to completing a sponsored walk.  They lined the path through some woods, cheering and applauding the heroic "Mr Muir"; this boosted Jonny's spirits and meant he had to run up the next hill to save face! 
I anticipate that Jonny will write a detailed blog about it soon so I will leave that job to him, given that his view on the day will no doubt be more interesting due to the first-person perspective on the epic effort of endurance involved.  

[Updated 21/06/2013: Jonny has written a blog post entitled The Art of the Ultra Shuffle] 

Jonny completed the route in ten hours and forty seven minutes, a great time for 66 miles on undulating trails, especially given that much of it was done solo with only occasional road support.  As he sat, shell shocked at the glamorous end point of East Croydon station, Jonny claimed that he would never run again.  I took this merely as a sign that he was appropriately tired from a decent effort - I am sure Jonny will be out running by next weekend!

After a brief rest at the end, we all drove over to Jonny's school for a lovely afternoon and evening event, with a huge turnout of school children and their friends and families celebrating the many achievements of the fundraisers.  It was a great end to the day to relax on the school lawns in the sunshine, eating tasty barbecued food, listening to impressive live music performances from some of the students, and chatting with friends.  A fine end to a great day out.

Below are a few photos taken on route.

  Jonny and Duncan running strongly:

Jonny climbing Titsey Hill:

Impressively, Jonny was still cheerful enough to humour Duncan's suggestion to pose 'hurdling' what appeared to be a jump from a dog obstacle course:

That looks like a far easier way to travel:

"Moo shall not pass!"

A weekend in the Lakes - day 1

Shayda and I had booked off the Friday, Tuesday and Wednesday surrounding the late May Bank Holiday weekend, with the intention to head up to the Lake District for a relaxing weekend... and for some training to get Shayda fitter for the Saunders Lakeland Mountain Marathon.  I had been planning on pacing the last two legs of Frank's Bob Graham Round on Saturday night but sadly he had a mysterious shoulder injury and had therefore postponed his attempt, so we had the whole weekend to ourselves.

24 July 2013

On Friday, we got up early to escape London before the rush hour kicked in, and we reached Keswick in time for lunch.  We then decided to scoot up Latrigg, the then-snowy scene of our engagement a couple of years ago, and then Skiddaw.  It was pretty warm low down but the wind really picked up once we summited Skiddaw Little Man, and was bitterly cold by the time we reached the top of Skiddaw.

Shayda on the way up Skiddaw:

Not only was the top of Skiddaw chuffing cold but it was just touching the clouds, which provided some dramatic views towards Carl Side once we had descended a little:

Concerns that my nose would freeze and fall off were, it turns out, unsubstantiated, and we warmed up on the way down, aided by Shayda's decision to jog part of the way.  We made it back down in good time, having added three new peaks to Shayda's Wainwrights tally and ready to head back into Keswick for some more pub grub.