So, before putting this event behind me, stuff that worked and stuff that didn't.
Training:
I don't think I'd change much here. The volume felt suitable and most of the terrain types fitted well for the event. Big chunks of running offroad, practised walking of hills, pack on the back for the longer training efforts, shorter faster bits once or twice a week. I'd maybe try and push those shorter, faster runs a little harder as I was generally holding back with the next days of long mileage in the back of my mind. I'd probably throw in a few more races of varying distances, and actually race some of them rather than taking each of them at just a training pace. The training had become a little boring by the end of the it and I felt I was spending as much time keeping on top of washing as I was advancing my ability to run long. I would stick with the lose plan of two heavy weeks with a step back week to seperate into the next two heavy weeks which helped to keep my legs relatively fresh. Fresh is subjective. The big difference that would need to be made is to get more rest so that there is some excitement for the even, and possibly a little energy.
Kit:
Shoes: Salomon Speedcross 3. So I've never exactly been in love with these shoes but they have always done the job. They fit like a built up road shoe and their lugs deal with most mud. Like most shoes I've tried, they're like ice skates when it comes to wet rock but so be it. In this event, they didn't really provide the service I was looking for. Having my feet move around during the first steep descent which then caused to insoles to bunch was not good mentally at such an early stage. I think I know what has caused this. I suspect the use of some thick SealSkinz socks for a couple of walks has probably stretched the upper. I did manage to keep them in reasonable order for the rest of my shortened run, but with the vast amount of cold water that had soaked into the shoe from the start, there were warm spots about the base of the heel and some soreness on the achillles where the rear of the shoe had rubbed. I'm not blaming the model of shoe for any of this as they have been solid, I'll probably pick up another pair as spares and relegate these to pseudo-walking shoes. For running where serious lugs are required, I'll make sure to keep my Fellcross 2s to hand. Lovely shoes.
Gaiters: Salomon Low Trail Gaiters. Mixed bag. They probably prevented me having to dive into an early bog to find my left shoe but did rub a little. For their main purpose of keeping as much rubbish out of the shoe as possible, spot on. I might investigate some other styles of gaiter but these were fine.
Pack: Inov-8 Race Pro 1 with Nathan 2 litre vertical bladder. Again, another bit of equipment I've never really loved, but we have come to an rrangement. I struggled with the drink tube for the horizontal bladder and found that I was just avoiding drinking during runs. That didn't seem like the way forward. As a hydration system this now works for me, but it does cause me some chaffing, across my back, nothing particularly painful but I'd prefer it were not the case, and in this most recent of events it seems to have caused some more major wounds across my lower back probably due to the additional weight in the pack. I'll continue to use it going forward but I'd like to fall in love with a pack some day, preferably with some reasonable storage access at the front.
Jacket: Inov8 Race Elite 150. It was fine but didn't keep me dry. There was a cold drizzle off and on with the rain getting heavier from time to time so the hood came up and down repeatedly so rain worked its way into the layers when the hood was down, and sweat built up easily when the hood was up and any effort was put in. For shorter runs, or to pass a kit check while taking up the minimum weight and space, great smock, but for something longer I probably need to look at something else. Certainly something breathable. Probably one of the many other jackets that I have which I've avoided using for races due to how much I like them not to stink of my stale sweat...
Socks: Injinji Run 2.0. No complaints at all. They protected my feet from any real damage during six hours of excessive movement in cold and saturated shoes. I sometimes feel they're a little thick and it takes away some of the feel of the terrain, but they were pretty perfect for this. I guess there was the option of waterproof socks (with or without a liner), but although I am happy to use them while walking, I can't see me using them for running. And besides, I don't think they would help much when your knee is getting wet by ground water.
Underwear: Rab MeCo 120 Boxer. They tend to keep chaffing to a minmum. They wick. They dry easily. Hard to get excited about them until I recall some of the issues I used to have with cotton or polyester while getting sweaty during ultras.
Shorts: Salomon Trail Long Running Tights. Functioned well. Kept me reasonably warm even when soaked through except when I stayed at a full stop a little too long at the third checkpoint. Still prefer these over my UnderArmour ColdGear Tights which do well for warmth in the dry but sag like buggery when they get wet and can easily get too warm.
Headtorch: Petzel Tikka-RXP. No idea how this would have coped in the race and I'm frankly grateful to have avoided that section of the event. One of the more special moments of my pre-race prep was realising that the newly purchased torch didn't take AAA batteries but instead used a Petzl specific unit. Expedited next day delivery for a new battery it is then.
Tuesday 3 June 2014
Sunday 25 May 2014
100 Mile Failure
So, while it is fresh in the memory.
After training for the LDWA Valleys 100 for more than five months, I stepped out of the event after 26 miles, just a quarter of the way through, or after half of a regular Sunday morning training run which is how I am currently viewing it. I have no regrets about giving up (can't think of a more accurate turn of phrase) at such an early stage, which after such a spectacular failure, I find interesting. Where to start with the review? Maybe it would be best to work backward.
It is the day after my event finished. I have slept well and eaten well, however I remain tired and my eyes are struggling to stay open. My usual post race concern of dehydration is under control. There are minor sores on my heels and waistband chaffing has caused a number of unattractive wounds on my back. Talking of which, both my back and neck are tight and ache pretty badly, as do my quads. Basically the sort of charge list that would expect after pushing a 50 miler without a proper taper, not half that distance with a taper suitable for the 100 miles that I was planning to tackle. So the event itself...
I dropped from the event at checkpoint 3. I had walked in and performed all the right tasks. I had swapped out my technical shirt, eaten and drank, chatted to a few volunteers, moved my night kit to the easier access pockets I even checked that each of the torches were still functioning correctly. I then wandered out of the village hall without any thoughts of not continuing, yet 100 metres down the road, I paused, turned around and handed my race card into the first official with a smile. From his reaction, it wasn't the way that most people hacked jacked it, and my card was added to an already growing pile. My back, but particularly my neck, was sore and stiff and I was not relishing 8 hours with a head torch altering every stride, but there was more than that. I had been pretty beaten up by the event, and although a finish was still very doable, this wasn't going to present the type of challenge I had in mind for the event. There was going to be a death march of a longer distance than I had in mind. I was definitely here for a running race and that was going to be intermittent at best. So that I don't sound too naive here, I was never planning on 15 minute miling from start to finish to nail a sub 24 hour finish, I had in mind to walk most hills from the very start, jogging flats and downhills, taking technical descents with whatever pace best mixed effort and safety. There would be walking when tiredness dictated, when lack of light required slower path choices, of course, as well as the munching of calories, but I had underestimated the course completely. Actually, probably not the course itself, but certainly the conditions underfoot. After 3 miles I had already plunged into a bog up to my knees and strained a selection of muscles to escape without losing my shoe (my gaiters earned their purchase right there). At the 6 mile mark, I had to remove my shoes as the insoles had bunched horribly during a steep descent. The intermittent heavy rain was expected, but a lack of proper pre-race lubrication was causing rubbing in a number of places from an early stage.
And in the lead up to the event, most things went well. The training went well, some tough technical stuff, heavy mileage weeks with step back recovery weeks. The only downside of the training was that I definitely fell out of love with running from time to time and putting on the shoes became a chore without obvious gain. Even after the poor showing at the race, I don't think I would change the training much, just to try and keep it slightly more fun. What I do need to fix next time is sleep, particularly in the lead up to an event. The negatives of tipping up to the start line of your big and scary event when your eyes are sore with tiredness cannot be overstated. Having your head hung from the beginning and not enjoying a step of the event is just not the way to go.
I learned plenty. I want to run 100 miles,so I need to choose an event where that is the target audience, not an event that is challenging for walkers to even complete. But not a canal run. I love hills and I will need something to keep me interested in the 30 to 70 mile section. I will start looking into it shortly, but at least I have the Ridgeway Challenge coming up soon which ticks those boxes. I also learned about a number of things which worked well on the day, or didn't, but I shall follow up on that next time, once I have started to catch up on this lacking sleep...
After training for the LDWA Valleys 100 for more than five months, I stepped out of the event after 26 miles, just a quarter of the way through, or after half of a regular Sunday morning training run which is how I am currently viewing it. I have no regrets about giving up (can't think of a more accurate turn of phrase) at such an early stage, which after such a spectacular failure, I find interesting. Where to start with the review? Maybe it would be best to work backward.
It is the day after my event finished. I have slept well and eaten well, however I remain tired and my eyes are struggling to stay open. My usual post race concern of dehydration is under control. There are minor sores on my heels and waistband chaffing has caused a number of unattractive wounds on my back. Talking of which, both my back and neck are tight and ache pretty badly, as do my quads. Basically the sort of charge list that would expect after pushing a 50 miler without a proper taper, not half that distance with a taper suitable for the 100 miles that I was planning to tackle. So the event itself...
I dropped from the event at checkpoint 3. I had walked in and performed all the right tasks. I had swapped out my technical shirt, eaten and drank, chatted to a few volunteers, moved my night kit to the easier access pockets I even checked that each of the torches were still functioning correctly. I then wandered out of the village hall without any thoughts of not continuing, yet 100 metres down the road, I paused, turned around and handed my race card into the first official with a smile. From his reaction, it wasn't the way that most people hacked jacked it, and my card was added to an already growing pile. My back, but particularly my neck, was sore and stiff and I was not relishing 8 hours with a head torch altering every stride, but there was more than that. I had been pretty beaten up by the event, and although a finish was still very doable, this wasn't going to present the type of challenge I had in mind for the event. There was going to be a death march of a longer distance than I had in mind. I was definitely here for a running race and that was going to be intermittent at best. So that I don't sound too naive here, I was never planning on 15 minute miling from start to finish to nail a sub 24 hour finish, I had in mind to walk most hills from the very start, jogging flats and downhills, taking technical descents with whatever pace best mixed effort and safety. There would be walking when tiredness dictated, when lack of light required slower path choices, of course, as well as the munching of calories, but I had underestimated the course completely. Actually, probably not the course itself, but certainly the conditions underfoot. After 3 miles I had already plunged into a bog up to my knees and strained a selection of muscles to escape without losing my shoe (my gaiters earned their purchase right there). At the 6 mile mark, I had to remove my shoes as the insoles had bunched horribly during a steep descent. The intermittent heavy rain was expected, but a lack of proper pre-race lubrication was causing rubbing in a number of places from an early stage.
And in the lead up to the event, most things went well. The training went well, some tough technical stuff, heavy mileage weeks with step back recovery weeks. The only downside of the training was that I definitely fell out of love with running from time to time and putting on the shoes became a chore without obvious gain. Even after the poor showing at the race, I don't think I would change the training much, just to try and keep it slightly more fun. What I do need to fix next time is sleep, particularly in the lead up to an event. The negatives of tipping up to the start line of your big and scary event when your eyes are sore with tiredness cannot be overstated. Having your head hung from the beginning and not enjoying a step of the event is just not the way to go.
I learned plenty. I want to run 100 miles,so I need to choose an event where that is the target audience, not an event that is challenging for walkers to even complete. But not a canal run. I love hills and I will need something to keep me interested in the 30 to 70 mile section. I will start looking into it shortly, but at least I have the Ridgeway Challenge coming up soon which ticks those boxes. I also learned about a number of things which worked well on the day, or didn't, but I shall follow up on that next time, once I have started to catch up on this lacking sleep...
Saturday 18 January 2014
January and back in a training plan
So 2013 rounded out fairly smoothly. A small hope to go and attack a quick 5k faded out due to scheduling but it wasn't a problem, the focus for the rest of the year was to get to New Year's Day fit and rested and ready to toe the line at the Hardmoors 30. I really enjoy the feel of the Hardmoors family and their runs and I was particularly looking forward to this one being as it used a chunk of the route I'd followed during the Hardmoors 60 back in October.
The Hardmoors 30 was great, well at least it was for the first 20 miles and again 2 hours after the finish. The bit in the middle was a bit messy. The race is along the Yorkshire coast using the Cleveland Way and the Cinder Trail, an disused rail line. Ravenscar south to Hayburn Wyke along the coastal path, inland a little at the 4.5 mile mark, this was the only tricky navigation part and usefully it was early in the race and so there were plenty of other runners around. Through the self clip and onto the cinder path back to Ravenscar. Still going well at this point but I was aware that I was probably going out a little too hard. I was also planning on drinking minimal water during the race and sticking mainly to a few gels and running too hard to early could cause problems later in the day. Blew through Ravenscar checkpoint and back to the cinder path to Robin Hood's Bay. Still going a little hard but letting the undulations in the route define the pace a little and at the halfway mark my plans of getting sub 6 hours were being altered for a comfortable sub 5:30, even allowing for a considerable slow down in the final stages. It wasn't to be, but not for the reasons of pacing or nutrition. Through Robin Hood's Bay checkpoint and a nice reminder of that car park from Hardmoors 60 and back on the final section of cinder path in the race and into Whitby. It was quite lovely crossing the the viaduct into the city.
Up until this point, the weather had been pretty much perfect. I'd been running in my light waterproof simply because it was as easy as stopping to take it off. As we turned into the city and back toward the coast, we could see the clouds gathering, nothing major, and it was only after the checkpoint and leaving the city up those infernal steps to the abbey that the weather started to settle into the pattern that we would be suffering under for the remainder of the day. At least I only had 10 miles of it, there were some people out there for a damn sight longer. The rain set in, the temperature dropped, but worse, the wind picked up. The going underfoot on this part of the Cleveland Way was patchy even in October, before months of pretty solid rain, during this race, even with with the soles of those beautiful Fellcross, there were some sections that took a little concentration to keep momentum. And descending on wet steps frankly scared the hell out of me at any kind of pace. This is something that I need to work on. The grind back to the finish line was a bit of a blur after a while. My legs felt reasonable but I had started to go off it a little mentally. Back through the check point at Robin Hood's Bay, where my enjoyment of recalling the Hardmoors 60 was definitely waning. The jacket was beautifully waterproof, but my gloves, much less so. For the last couple of hours there wasn't a lot of feeling in my fingers and due to the reduced pace, my feet were also starting to numb from the cold. Either way, I knew that I would finish it and it was for this reason that I didn't do the more sensible things such as change my gloves for a dry pair. I really should know better. I edged past a few people during this slog, and two guys dropped me looking good and I was happy to let them go. There was little to race against for pacing purposes until we met up with the finishing section of the Hardmoors 15 guys and gals and then in the final mile or so of the race, there was a solid climb on particularly muddy ground which I chose to walk easily. I saw there were some people catching up with poles but it wasn't possible to tell which race they were in. I decided to let them close the distance as my legs still felt good and figured I would gun the last half mile from the top of the climb. I'm glad to say this worked out as three dropped places in the last mile would have been a little depressing.
This isn't the best race report. Of late, I've become aware that I don't pay a lot of attention during races, even when I am going easy. There are some good reports out there by Fiona Fisher, John Kynaston and Norry Mcneill, all of whom seemed to be far more awake than I was during the day. After the race, it took me more than 30 minutes to get changed due to shivering, and more than another 10 minutes before my hands stopped shivering enough to be able to drink my coffee. It was not a pleasant recovery, but things came together quickly enough after that.
Since the turn of the year, with this race being the start point, it has been time to get training before my first 100 mile race. I'd like to say that I am excited, but I'm really not. But at least I am scared enough to train properly. Still, 18 weeks to go until the Valleys 100. Plenty of time to get excited, or injured...
The Hardmoors 30 was great, well at least it was for the first 20 miles and again 2 hours after the finish. The bit in the middle was a bit messy. The race is along the Yorkshire coast using the Cleveland Way and the Cinder Trail, an disused rail line. Ravenscar south to Hayburn Wyke along the coastal path, inland a little at the 4.5 mile mark, this was the only tricky navigation part and usefully it was early in the race and so there were plenty of other runners around. Through the self clip and onto the cinder path back to Ravenscar. Still going well at this point but I was aware that I was probably going out a little too hard. I was also planning on drinking minimal water during the race and sticking mainly to a few gels and running too hard to early could cause problems later in the day. Blew through Ravenscar checkpoint and back to the cinder path to Robin Hood's Bay. Still going a little hard but letting the undulations in the route define the pace a little and at the halfway mark my plans of getting sub 6 hours were being altered for a comfortable sub 5:30, even allowing for a considerable slow down in the final stages. It wasn't to be, but not for the reasons of pacing or nutrition. Through Robin Hood's Bay checkpoint and a nice reminder of that car park from Hardmoors 60 and back on the final section of cinder path in the race and into Whitby. It was quite lovely crossing the the viaduct into the city.
Up until this point, the weather had been pretty much perfect. I'd been running in my light waterproof simply because it was as easy as stopping to take it off. As we turned into the city and back toward the coast, we could see the clouds gathering, nothing major, and it was only after the checkpoint and leaving the city up those infernal steps to the abbey that the weather started to settle into the pattern that we would be suffering under for the remainder of the day. At least I only had 10 miles of it, there were some people out there for a damn sight longer. The rain set in, the temperature dropped, but worse, the wind picked up. The going underfoot on this part of the Cleveland Way was patchy even in October, before months of pretty solid rain, during this race, even with with the soles of those beautiful Fellcross, there were some sections that took a little concentration to keep momentum. And descending on wet steps frankly scared the hell out of me at any kind of pace. This is something that I need to work on. The grind back to the finish line was a bit of a blur after a while. My legs felt reasonable but I had started to go off it a little mentally. Back through the check point at Robin Hood's Bay, where my enjoyment of recalling the Hardmoors 60 was definitely waning. The jacket was beautifully waterproof, but my gloves, much less so. For the last couple of hours there wasn't a lot of feeling in my fingers and due to the reduced pace, my feet were also starting to numb from the cold. Either way, I knew that I would finish it and it was for this reason that I didn't do the more sensible things such as change my gloves for a dry pair. I really should know better. I edged past a few people during this slog, and two guys dropped me looking good and I was happy to let them go. There was little to race against for pacing purposes until we met up with the finishing section of the Hardmoors 15 guys and gals and then in the final mile or so of the race, there was a solid climb on particularly muddy ground which I chose to walk easily. I saw there were some people catching up with poles but it wasn't possible to tell which race they were in. I decided to let them close the distance as my legs still felt good and figured I would gun the last half mile from the top of the climb. I'm glad to say this worked out as three dropped places in the last mile would have been a little depressing.
This isn't the best race report. Of late, I've become aware that I don't pay a lot of attention during races, even when I am going easy. There are some good reports out there by Fiona Fisher, John Kynaston and Norry Mcneill, all of whom seemed to be far more awake than I was during the day. After the race, it took me more than 30 minutes to get changed due to shivering, and more than another 10 minutes before my hands stopped shivering enough to be able to drink my coffee. It was not a pleasant recovery, but things came together quickly enough after that.
Since the turn of the year, with this race being the start point, it has been time to get training before my first 100 mile race. I'd like to say that I am excited, but I'm really not. But at least I am scared enough to train properly. Still, 18 weeks to go until the Valleys 100. Plenty of time to get excited, or injured...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)