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...
The infrequent ramblings of a keen but not overly-talented runner currently languishing in London but dreaming of the fells...
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
Monday, 15 July 2013
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.
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.
Wednesday, 19 June 2013
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.

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.

Monday, 17 June 2013
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!"
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!"
Sunday, 2 June 2013
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.
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.
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