A DNS but otherwise good

I can't say that I was too disappointed as the night rolled through and wheezing during various trips to the bathroom proved that the cold had moved to my chest.  The final straw for the decision was 3am while looking at the clock and deciding that unless I bounced out of bed when the alarm sounded without a rasp in the chest, I'd be missing the Ridgeway 40 this year.  And so it was that at 4:15, the alarm was silenced and I settled down to another two hours of sleep while missing the Ridgeway 40 for the second time in three years.

It was almost certainly the correct decision and the day has held other useful activities, including a gentle 10 mile run which felt so much smoother for having returned to speed work only this week and already the reappearance of the flowing form which results.  Of course, this puts everything another marathon behind the plan for the year, but it is early May and little need for panic at this stage.  The long months of summer will be make or break when other interests burn those weekends currently overflowing with plus-26 mile runs.

Since the Daffodil Dawdle things have been good.  The lovely 35 miles of the Pewsey Downsaround went relatively smoothly although I certainly flagged in the second half as the temperature picked up.  Still, I saw nobody pass me from halfway and I take it from that, and a not-so-brief look at Strava, that others suffered in the same way.  Even if next year holds shorter races, I'd still be tempted to return to Pewsey, particularly with Jenaya having taken part in the 10 mile version of the challenge and found her way safely back to base with sun-kissed and a smile across her face.

A weekend away on holiday followed before the next event, the inaugural Breckland Forest Marathon.  Pleasant and very runnable with the only difficulty there being the single-track nature of the trail and the fact the whole event was a single out-and-back.  Many people struggled with navigation and I would have had the same problem if I had been going from signage alone but happily the organisers had provided the route as a GPX file and this gave a good enough guide on my watch for decision making.  I am aware of the capital investment required for such a watch, but with events coming thick and fast, the time to review in route in advance is difficult to find and time spent pondering which of the many paths to follow across open land can be better spent in getting back to the car early.

Finally, there was the Oxon 40.  I had not fully appreciated that the route changed each year and had mentally assumed that I would get around the course in a similar time to 2016.  There were a lot more hills than I recall and the elevation shown on my watch suggested an extra 33% or so.  Most of these could have been run if you were choosing to put in that level of effort, all but a particular sting near the end which I doubt anyone ran from bottom to top.  As with the Pewsey Downsaround a few weeks earlier, I here managed to take a significant chunk from my time of the previous year and other than some slight aches in the knees from poor form during the few long descents, I seemed the no worse for wear and did not feel that I had put in any additional effort but instead benefited from a better base fitness.

So, as the cold slowly clears through my Sunday afternoon, I have time to ponder where another marathon can be slipped into the year's schedule without taking away from life's balance.

Daffodil Dawdle

Another week, another marathon.  It is something that I need to stop thinking most weekends.  I am aware that there is only the one marathon in the next three weeks which is nice.

The Daffodil Dawdle is one of those delightful challenges organised by the equally delightful Long Distance Walkers Association.  And for the first time this year, the weather was delightful to go with it.

My one mistake was one of organisation.  The morning after the clocks go forward is not the ideal time to commit to an early race a couple of hours from home.  A night spent waking, looking at the clock, trying to remember whether it was the actual time or if it should be an hour forward or an hour backward before dropping back into a fitful sleep until finally having the alarm drag me from the deepest sleep, much to my regret.

Between this point and race start everything was as usual.  I was slightly behind the plan leaving the house, the journey was slightly faster than the plan, parking was well signed and organised and I was quickly registered, bathroomed and ready to go.  On arrival I had met Graeme, a fellow ultra runner with a penchant for these types of events and also a member of the same athletics club.  I had known that we both planned to be here, but sometimes these things do not quite work out.  We were informed of a last minute route change due to snakes being found in one of the fields near the end of the course and we were off.

I would love to explain more about the event but here things begin to blur for me.  We moved a little quicker than either of us probably would have alone and having two people working through the route directions in parallel made things smoother in general and meant that the rare mistakes were rectified more swiftly.  Three checkpoints were less that the LDWA usually put on for these events but it was plenty on this occasion.  As ever, they were beautifully well stoked and prove a tempting respite but I had already decided to stick to minimal provisions, it is something that I want to get used to during these low intensity runs.  I stuck to two 25g servings of honeyed cashews, one at the half way point and one at the three quarter point.  It worked well for me.  I did get tempted into taking a little ginger beer at that third checkpoint though; how could I not?

Graeme and I ran together from start to finish.  My expectation was to canter round this in five hours to five and a half hours but with Graeme as wing man we clipped around in a little over four and a half.  With three marathons earlier in the week, the lack of agonising pain and the fact that my engine was still ticking over at the end, I was pretty happy with this.

I would like to say more about the course but other than being flat, picturesque and very runnable, not a lot of specifics stuck with me.  But there were a few lovely churches.

I would make an awful travel agent.

CODRC Triple Day 3

As it was written, so it came to pass.  A third gentle marathon running around in circles before being able to go home with a clear conscience.  No drama experienced and everything flowed by more smoothly that it had on the previous two days.  The pacing was even throughout the run and there were no aches, something of a miracle in my own mind.  I expect the decision to break each of the runs with regular short walk breaks kept the pain at bay and the relative freshness in the legs.

The journey home did not become the two hours of calf cramping that I had feared but instead a troublefree drive along sluggish motorways while grazing on good snacks and cans of ginger beer.  A day later and the legs are still my own and the hammer of tiredness has not fallen.  For a stupid couple of hours I had entertained the idea put forward by my ego to attend the weekly running club speedwork session.  Fortunately I have spent much of the previous three days thinking over some of the common mistakes made in running and general training.  One of my favourites being that training sessions themselves are not what makes you faster (or stronger, or whatever it is that you are training toward), but it is rather your bodies adaptation to that training.  The way that you fuel yourself, the way that you rest, the way that you do not go and beat yourself up flogging a dead horse around a track for an hour.  I am still struggling to balance the probably fact that sitting and watching TV and eating has been the right thing to do this evening.  At least I did not open the giant packet of hobnobs.

CODRC Triple Day 2

And so day two wrapped up as smoothly as I could have hoped for.  Other than managing to get completely lost on the way to the start due to an unusual failure of the Sat Nav that is.

Today's route was simple.  An out and back along a flat trail.  As a bonus, is was in the heart of the Severn valley so the views were good when I was looking around for them.  There was an interesting looking castle or fortified manor that we passed each time which I'll investigate the details of a little when I get home.  Actually, I probably will not do that, but I will add it to the list of interesting things that I have been able to see this year without the time to follow up on which I will feel bad about.

Having managed to arrive late, I set off eight minutes or so after the main group.  It was not likely to be a problem as I was not expecting to spend much time running with anyone else.  I had a game plan in mind, a hundred metre walk followed by nine hundred metres of jogging.  Watch will beep after a kilometre and time to rinse and repeat.  I was not going to look at the paces, just the heart rate, and during the hundred metre walk I would check the distance to keep me honest.  It can be tempting to choose a point a little further away to pick up the pace to a jog, particularly toward the end of a long day.

And my day was not a long day.  Not mentally anyway.  Near to five hours of running for just the distance of a marathon is obviously not exactly chewing up the ground but other than an uncomfortable twenty minutes or so while jogging (and walking) toward the portaloo, it passed.  The good thing about having a tight loop of things do to and the kilometres passed while deciding if there was anything needed during the next walking break.  Hence the beautiful sights passing by unseen, by me, at least.

And evening number three at the bunkhouse.  I am a little tired but those evenings dedicated to just recovery have helped keep it under control to the point where I think I will wake up with my alarm in the morning.  And most happily, my legs are functioning perfectly well.  I know the route tomorrow, being a repeat of Monday, and I am actually looking forward to it.  The loop has two hills which are not too steep and are perfect for recovery and nutrition.  I'm sure the time will fly.

And I very much doubt that there will be an update on these events in the short term.  Having time to burn while recovering in these hills of an evening has provided the ring-fenced time to write.  Having access to the normal pursuits of an evening from tomorrow will almost certainly draw my attention away.  I guess that normal does not apply to people running three marathons in three days, or people running fifty two marathons in a year, but then where on the scale would you put the people who chose to start these three marathons early so that they could do three ultras, or the guy who are currently going to sleep to start their twelfth marathon in twelves days in the morning, another guy who is looking to run a hundred marathons this year and has run twelve in March alone, or the guy who sleeps in his car near each race start and heading off afterward to make his way to the next start line, wherever that might be.

CODRC Triple Day 1

So it turns out that I had not quite put in enough research for these events either.  This was not the flat converted railway line that I was expecting.  Instead, we ran 32 loops of an unadopted road which were marked as trails.  This was something of a bonus for me though as it introduced hills, something that I thought I would not be seeing during these races whilst being surrounded by them each night in the beautiful All Stretton bunkhouse.

The rain driving against the roof this evening reminds me of the first two thirds of today's run.  The incessant downpour which kept the competitors in their rain jackets for most of the race.  The temperature was relatively mild however and this made hydration a little trickier to manage but a minor complication in the grand scheme of things.

A first lap jogging the route to make decisions on where walking breaks would begin, and more importantly where they would end.  And then another thirty one laps sticking to the task.  The puddles and mud growing underfoot with each loop but this soft ground helped to cushion the accumulated impacts.

Eventually time passed.  Runners pushing a little harder passed by me a number of times, those taking it easier were passed in turn.  More than four hours thirty passed during these laps and little of value passed through m mind.  The optical heart rate monitor on my latest piece of shiny equipment proved to be the intermittent trash that I was expecting, but when it started to choose random numbers to report, I had a good feel of where my effort was sitting and could safely ignore it until it returned to reality.  The main reoccurring thought was whether my feet were landing softly beneath me.  Was I maintaining the minimum damage and maximum efficiency that I could whilst sticking to a gentle effort that could be maintained for three days.  The answer was almost always, yes.  The thought occasionally held my attention to the point where I missed my mark to begin running again from a walk break but never by more than two metres.  It was about as disciplined as I could have hoped for.  Lap times were maintained to within a fifteen seconds or so with exceptions made for bathroom'ing.  Food was to be taken while walking the hills to avoid wasting time, or to provide any reason to deviate from the points chosen for walking and running.

The rain eased eventually.  Finally there was even sunshine.  Sweating in layers and a rain jacket because you cannot be bothered with the faff of removing it for the last few kilometres is either a sign of laziness or efficiency.  I'm choosing efficiency for today.

And after sensible food and time off my feet, my thoughts move to tomorrow.  I'm pretty sure that this one really is on the flattened trail of a railway line.

I would quite like the rain to stop for the morning but I will enjoy listening to it tonight.

The Year's Challlenge

Thirteen miles in and absolutely no mojo.  The legs are moving enough to make the ground pass by but every check of the watch suggests that I should consider a different hobby.

In retrospect I had not given the event enough due consideration.  It was local and relatively inexpensive.  Couple this with a lack of competing draws upon my time for the day and it was something of a no-brainer.  Another step towards a nebulous goal which was of no relevance in the real world or to anyone in full possession of their senses.  Only semi-regular checks of the calendar reminded me that this was upcoming and whilst surrounded by similar events with similar names in similar locations it had not registered meaningfully outside of the convenience of its location and thus how late I would be able to set the alarm, and how soon I could be home once the task was complete.  Much to my surprise, somebody had put hills in Leicestershire.  Not unreasonably, the organisers of the Charnwood Marathon thought that we should go over them.

The day had started well.  I was still in bed at six and awoke naturally before the alarm had a chance to get into its repertoire.  A leisurely breakfast of the exact same things I eat before every such event.  Even time to choose running kit and pack those vital bits and bobs that make the first hour post-race a more humane experience.  The fact that these things were not already sitting in their bag and awaiting collection as I moved between the bed and the event was a sure sign of my lackadaisical planning.  Somehow I managed to leave the house later than planned and despite a lack of traffic on the pleasantly short hour journey, I was later that I would have wanted to be on arrival.  Even so, the efficient team had me parked one hundred and fifty metres from the race headquarters quickly and with time to spare I had made use of the of the bathroom, amazingly lacking a queue to do the excellent choice of headquarters, something unheard of pre-race of almost any size, and registered with the organisers whilst asking a few questions about the route and checkpoints.  I had also overheard two people talking about others who had turned up to the event only to find out it was on trails rather than the roads.  How could anyone be so disorganised?  In my mind, I worried that they probably did not have the route instructions and were probably set for a rough day.  It also served to remind me that I should probably use the remaining ten minutes to find my running shoes and dig my own instructions from the car foot well.

 A nine o'clock start by the local crier and we were off jogging down the street of the small town.  There were a number of faces in the crowd to whom this would be old hat.  People you start to recognise after spending your weekends doing enough of these things.  Some you will have spoken to on other days.  Some of whom you are vaguely aware have completed enough of these things to number their marathons in the high hundreds.  A whispered few even more than that.  There were only two who's names were known to me, one due to a period of time running together a fortnight before, and the other being another Northampton runner who I should really spend more time talking to about their plans in this area.  I have noted him at nearly a dozen of these days but spoke to him for the first time at a road marathon seven days earlier and even then it was the exchange of pleasantries toward the end of the many, many laps of an airfield near Stratford.

And it was that road marathon that was on my mind during the early miles.  For all of the trail marathons and ultras undertaken, it is road marathons that can leave my legs feeling jaded for days and weeks afterward.  This year, there simply is not time for that.  My legs seemed to be moving relatively smoothly considering the short recovery time from the pounding of tarmac, but I was looking forward to getting to the trails and with them, the excuse to walk whenever I saw fit.  The name of the game here is to get around without injury and quickly enough to get home and shower and a few hours of relaxation the mind would turn to the next challenge.  Smoothly moving legs was good, but I was a little worried as to how long it would last.

And so it was that I reached the thirteen mile mark.  Stepping off the roads to the mud and grass had been good but it had also begun the start of the hills.  I was happy to walk these as had been the plan, but the volume of uphill had started to move my thoughts of a jog around five hours fifteen, a reasonable time for a self-navigated jaunt off-road, to a slow slog of six hours which could get worse if those legs did not hold up after the abuse of the previous week.  This was not the simple ticking off of another marathon before a more challenging week of running that I had had in mind.

The idea of joining the 100 Marathon Club had been peculating for a couple of years.  I could not honestly say way.  Last year I started to tot up the number of events that I had completed already and begun dropping it into the proforma required of the club.  Those training events booked months in advance would be added each weekend, or not if the draw of sleeping in had become to much.  When all was said and done, 2016 ended with my tally on forty eight.  Two shy of the figure required to join as an associate and woefully short of the hundred required for full membership.  Fifty two short to be precise.  I had no fixed goals for 2017 at that point, but the glaring gap of those fifty two marathons and the convenient fifty two weeks in the upcoming year gnawed at me.  And then the bookings started.  An LDWA event here, a small ultra there.  Occasional weekends of back to back races as commitments were already in place for some weekends of the year and despite the size of the task, I was keen to keep some freedom to attend other shorter running events which brought me pleasure in the past.  Race the Train sharing the top of the list with the Pen-y-Fan fell races (the latter of which will no doubt see me fall down the side of the mountain again as I expect to have even less ability for delicate and nimble footwork).  Only some way through these bookings did I realise that the 100 Marathon Club had a requirement for ten of the qualifying events to be classified as road.  Now I understand the draw of a road marathon for those looking to challenge themselves to a time, but as someone looking to remain relatively fresh and very much uninjured, the thought was sobering.  But through luck rather than judgement, six road marathons were already part of my back catalogue.  Some options for those other four were penciled in and a couple eventually booked.

Early in the planning of the races for 2017, I had it in mind to try and wrap up the hundred events with time to spare.  I have an idea of running in the club cross-country season and an overlap of the two challenges could be enough to flatten me.  It has been the bringing forward of that hundredth marathon that was on my mind during the second half of Charnwood.  With a Sunday to relax and recuperate, the following Monday would be the start of three marathons in three days.  The idea itself is not terrifying, but without taper and the wish to remain fresh to the point of not requiring too much recovery, the worry about injuries through overuse are real.  Mentally, a smooth Charnwood would have been a good sidle into the week.  And despite the soul destroying first half, things evened out as they usually do.  Miles slid by.  The weather moved between cloud and drizzle with enough regularity that you were always cool but never cold enough to reach for the jacket.  Gradually the head lifted enough to observe and enjoy the views from some of the peaks in the second half.  Runners who had not been seen since leaving the first village started to appear in the near distance only to disappear behind after a few miles.  The run was wrapped up in a time that I would have settled for at the start.  Other than the odd bramble scratch, I appeared to be absent of injury.  And fifteen minutes after finishing I was driving home whilst preparing a theoretical packing list for the following evening.

And so I sit in the YHA bunkhouse in All Stretton with enough running clothes to start a small shop.  The first of the three marathons will commence in twelve hours, but it is not the first one that worries me.  All three have barely any elevation change and are routed on light trail, a converted train line.  The lack of hills would be seen by most as a blessing, and it does mean that they should be wrapped up more quickly, but for me it takes away those easy options of walking, and it means the use of the same muscles for each stride.  The risk of injury seems higher here than any any point of the year so far.

And with the next event seven days from today, there really is no time for that.

Golden Fleece Circuit

And finally, an event that I have turned up for and successfully trotted around in 2016.  Who would have thought?

For anyone reading this who is unaware, the Golden Fleece Circuit is a mixed terrain event in South Yorkshire.  There are 15 and 27 mile options and it is organised by the local Scouts group.  If you've ever been to one of these, or an LDWA event, you'll know the deal on the low key nature of the day.  You'll also have a feel for how important your ability to navigate a route is if you want to have a good day out there.  Generally you'll be provided with a couple of sides of A4 route directions, a basic map, and an expectation that you can look after yourself as an adult and not be a burden on the organisers (or mountain rescue, depending on the event).

As the name suggests, the Golden Fleece Circuit is a looped course which keeps the logistics pretty simple.  The small hall that doubles as registration area pre-race, and soup kitchen post-race has enough capacity to store kit bags while you explore the nearby wilds.

For my part, the day went well.  From some basic research I knew that the route would be a mixture of paths and tarmac.  I was also aware that I wouldn't be standing on top of a moor trying to take a bearing with my rusty navigation skills.  A good prospect for the first event in a long while.  Still being in recovery from injury, and not wanting to explain a worsened wound to the nurse on the following Tuesday, my execution plan for this was to take it easy throughout.  I'd say I was about 80% successful.  I'd like to explain more about the route, but like just about every event I've taken part in, most of it was a blur.  I can be sure when I say that this is a very runnable route.  I think there was one hill that would force you to a walk even if you were looking to race this hard.  Of course, that hill was in the last couple of miles because, Race Organisers.  The route was relatively easy to follow for one of these types of events.  If you're expecting ribbons on every corner, this is not the run for you.  I did manage to step off the route for a while due to thoughtlessly following the couple of groups ahead of me, but that is most definitely my fault rather than anything else.

The weather was also a little interesting with all four seasons making an appearance.  The drive up from Northampton had been shrouded in drizzle and flurries of snow.  This is not a great sign when driving north for an outdoor event but for the majority of my run, the sky stayed on my side.  The wide expanse allowed plenty of opportunity to watch the clouds as they rolled in, not that there was much to be done about it when it did arrive.  10 minutes of chilly rain 90 minutes into the race, sun so warm that I would have been happier in shorts and t-shirt during the next hour, and then a little later, driving hail as I travelled along a ridge line.  It did finally throw it down with rain in the minutes after I finished.  You couldn't help but feel for those still out on the course.

It is a couple of days later now and no particular ill effects seem to have occurred.  My calves would feel happier if I'd put in some proper training in the weeks beforehand.  I did pick up a head cold which is yet to clear but nothing that is preventing ongoing training, so it would seem that the Edale Skyline on Sunday is still on the cards.  At least that is only 21 miles.  This was certainly my thinking until I started to read the blogs of people who ran the race in 2015.  The thought of running in thigh deep mud was not something that gets my juices flowing at this moment in time.

For reference, I've noticed that some of the events I attend do not have good route files available so I'll be uploading mine.  The FIT file is direct from the Fenix 3.  The gpx file is the converted version through Garmin connect.  For this event, it is definitely worth bearing in mind that I took a bit of a detour 20km in.

Route files

And recovered! Hot Diggity

Well, mainly.

It has now been more than four weeks since the surgery and there is still the dressing on my shoulder, but things are feeling pretty normal.  A very helpful and professional nurse now replaces the dressing a couple of times per week, but in myself, I feel pretty good.  And this isn't one of those "pretty good all things considered", but simply a "pretty good".

The turn around appears to have been at the weekend.  I had planned a trail marathon in Leicestershire but going into Friday a couple of my more sensible friend convinced me that this was not the way.  And like that, the Belvoir Challenge slips by for the year (DNS 3).  This wasn't the same wrench as the previous DNSs, not being part of a race series and having only been scheduled by me as a training run.  However, going through the weekend I became aware of everything feeling pretty much normal.  I turned up to parkrun and pottered around that at a moderate pace which quickly reminded me that I have not put in any speedwork for a couple of months, and this was followed up by a very easy trail run on the Sunday.

So, as I step into March, it feels like time to get back to it.  In fact, I've decided to use February's leap day as a way of jump starting my faded resolutions.  It could be that committing to 50 miles per week is a little on the stupid side when coming back from illness, but I've enough patience to keep most of that mileage at a very low effort.  I also have another scheduled race in 17 days and I don't think that toeing the line for a 42 mile race in the Brecon Beacons is a sensible idea unless I've put myself to the test a little beforehand.  I've no wish to be a liability for the other racers and the organiser.

This means I'll be at the Golden Fleece this coming weekend, and the Edale Skyline on the following.  They're both interesting to bite off in some ways, but both big enough for me to start off very easily, build up to a very easy pace and then near the finish, drop to my very easy effort, without lagging behind the field and requiring panicked acceleration into checkpoints to beat the cut offs.  I know little about the course for the Golden Fleece so I'm looking forward to exploring it, and I know more about the Edale area and I am looking forward to those views even more.  And I know they're likely to be replaced by driving rain and clag, but what can you do?

2016 apparently starts in March.

And still injured, but maybe a little less

It is three weeks since surgery.  For the majority of that time not a step was run.  This has obviously not been beneficial to the remaining race plans for the year, nor my patience.

The injury still requires regular medical attention for which I continue to feel grateful and somewhat guilty.  I feel sure that the nurses could spend their time better on more pressing concerns.  I am also aware that just this three weeks of layoff has seen some interesting changes in my heart rate.  My Resting Heart Rate (RHR) has been low for as long as I have paid any attention to it, but rather than the upper thirties, it now hovers at the bottom of the thirties.  After defending the low RHR for a couple of years as a by-product of my awesome fitness, even I was a little worried about seeing the number 30 appear on the screen of a morning.

In the last couple of days, some very short and easy runs have come back.  A five miles here and three more there.  Interestingly, the RHR on the following morning looks to be a little more normal based on my personal experience.  38 is great, right?  In addition, those two runs saw my heart rate spike on a couple of occasions to levels not warranted by the effort that I was putting in.  I know that people think that running by heart rate can be limiting, and I agree at a certain level, but I also know where I expect my BPM to sit for a certain level of effort.  I can also feel my heart rate move before the watch registers it due to the lag in monitoring.  So when the heart rate jumps by 70-80 BPH in a couple of yards and sits there until I stop running altogether, I am pretty sure that this is not normal.

It will be interesting to see this figures settle down over the next couple of weeks, hopefully.  It is also interesting to have seen how a few weeks layoff, a few weeks of infection and a couple of weeks of medical remediation has make a mess of the body.

Onwards and upwards.

Still injured. Bored.

A week since surgery.  Things are apparently progressing well but it has been made very clear to me during the daily checks that running will be severely frowned upon.  At least for now.  I should have probably had that conversation prior to having been for an easy 5k.  I'd probably be going in for a better level of self-pity if I hadn't watched The Revnant prior to the operation.  Every complaint feels a bit weak in that light.

Still, I did stumble across this short film is my new found spare time.  And again, there really is no excuse to not keep moving forward.

https://vimeo.com/152971030

2016 Races 1. 2016 DNSs 2

And what was an infection then became the cause of an unplanned surgery...

The procedure to the shoulder was minor and things could have been a lot worse.  Unfortunately, the recovery is going to rule out a 50 mile run in a week's time.  It has also put paid to the daily run for the present time.

So, without even leaving Jaunary that is two races I'm manging to DNS and pretty much all of the running "resolutions" I had down the pan.  Bother.  On the upside, my training in January had been pretty good on the whole and I'm expecting to get a few little runs in during the couple of weeks I need to let the wound heal.  With a bit of luck, many of the other racing plans for the year are still doable.

Now, with idle time on my hands, how do I stop myself from sitting here signing up for countless races later in the year?

2016 Races 1. 2016 DNSs 1.

As hundreds of fellow ultrarunners head for a frozen Wendover, I am instead sitting on my comfy and warm sofa with my packed bags still piled up in the hallway.

Walked through the pros and cons of skipping the race:

• Con – I’m a runner.  Not turning up to an event that I have committed to, which is also part of a series I’m planning to race through the year, directly conflicts with this.
• Pro – I am actually sick.  I had a doctor’s note and drugs and everything.  The combination is causing some dehydration, poor quality sleep and stomach distress.
• Con – Dehydration, poor quality sleep and stomach distress are pretty a pretty usual combination for the period of a taper and race.
• Pro – This is supposed to be a race for me, not the usual long run in the beautiful wilds.  If I cannot confidently push myself, I’m better off playing safe.
• Can – It means I can tell the people who know about the race how well I did.  Most of them will have no idea what would be a good result.
• Pro – There is a small chance that I might not complete the race.  It is a point to point a couple of hours away and getting back from one of the checkpoints is likely to be a pain in the arse.
• Con – Even if I jog the thing, it would be a result for the race series and might be useful if I have to pull out of one of the later races unexpectedly.
• Pro – I would get the whole day back to do something more useful with my time.
• Con – I will actually spend most of that time mulling over sacking off this race and generally feeling sorry for myself.
• Con – I still have to run today anyway.  Not having this long run does somewhat interfere with the training plan for the next.
• Pro – I won’t have to clean all of my kit?
• Con – I do have quite a lot of unwatched stuff on my TiVo.

 Anyway.  I’m 90% sure that it was the right decision to not race today.  I shall be spending the next few days thinking mainly about that 10%.

Time to let the race organiser know that he has a spare slot that he will not have time to utilise.

2016 - Two weeks in

14th of January and most things are running smoothly.  Sitting here on Thursday night, other than a slight snag, all systems would be go for Saturday's first race of the year.  Sadly, that fly in the ointment is an infection which has today required a course of antibiotics.  Bother.  So I'll be seeing how I take to those over the next 24 hours before deciding whether to toe the line.  With the plan being to race reasonably hard, a drug which unsettles my stomach or causes me to be constantly dehydrated is going to be a real problem.  But do I cross my fingers for a good Friday or a free weekend?

Other plans for the year have gone well.  No injuries.  A cool but gentle winter has recently snapped cold but a pile of good technical equipment has proved its worth and there have been no excuses to park on the sofa, thus running plans have been maintained and the target of the daily mile run is being met.  As for the 2016 distance challenge with Mr P, he is currently sitting at 189.8 km while I am at
167.3 km.  A half marathon between us.  It could seem daunting so early in the year but it is just a two hour jog in the hills.

Or the first 40% of the first race of the year...

And on to 2016

And it's time for that clichéd end of year post.  As usual, I've not much to share nor many I wish to share it with, but a public record of a few running commitments for next year may remind me to put in a little more effort on the various start lines throughout the year.

2015 has been a little variable.  A couple of injuries that felt significant but in reality meant 3-4 months in total of reduced running.  The year was still interspersed with a number of good events, a number of marathons, some on road, many on trail and a couple in the mountains of the Beacons.  These latter ones speak better to me.  Maintaining an even effort in difficult conditions works well for me, and although it is unlikely to put me near the front of any well attended race, these races allow me to test myself against similar runners in environments that leave me smiling after the finish.  And with these types of events in my mind, and closing out the year with relatively good fitness, I’ve put more than the usual effort into planning out 2016.  As well as picking out a few race series, I’ve a couple of bits of guidance, reminders and little challenges to complete.

• Goals:
• Might Contain Nuts Ultra series.  Four 42 mile runs in the Brecon Beacons.
• Go Beyond Ultra series.  Four races of lengths between 50 and 30 miles across England.
• Run Further Ultra series.  More complex requirements but three from twelve races.

• Guidance:
• 50+ miles per week – exceptions for the week before and after a goal race or when injured.
• At least one quality session per week – exceptions for two weeks after a goal race of when injured.

• Challenges:
• Run a mile each and every day.  No exceptions.  (I feel this will be the first thing to fall by the wayside.)
• Track mileage against the cycling of Andy Perry via Strava.  (Minor fun and will not impact training or racing.  Well, unless it is very close in December and then all bets are off.)

In terms of those goals, all of the must-do races are now booked.  There is the opportunity to run a couple of others in the Run Further series but I’ll leave those decisions until the year has started to pan out.

The most immediate focus is Country to Capital on Saturday 16^th January which seems a bit close now.  It will be my first time at the event and my knowledge is based mainly on a couple of blogs.  My key takeaways so far is that the second half is flat running alongside the canal and that many experienced ultra-runners still decided to set a 400 metre PB from the line to avoid congestion at an early gate.  I do not plan to get involved with the latter competition, but I’d like to have enough in the legs to benefit from 20 miles of flat path on the way into London.  We shall see.

100 Mile Failure - Lessons Learned

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.

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...

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...

Bedford Harriers Half Marathon

And so a after a couple more good training sessions during the following, the weekend took a downhill turn with a stomach bug of some kind.  Unfortunate after picking up a nice award at the Parklands Jog and Run Christmas party on the Friday night.

Having decided that I really didn't deserve the award after hosing each of my marathons this year as well as my original goal race at TR24, a weekend of illness has to be turned around.  And if you can't get your long run in at the weekend, well, it may as well be a taper then.  A bit of searching later, and entry to the Bedford Harriers Half Marathon was lined up for the following weekend.

I like running ultra marathons.  Where I am in the field, they're sociable and relaxed.  Walking almost always features and completing the distance in the top half of the field.  A 5k is brutal little blast but at least it is over in short space of time.  The distances between are a sliding scale from good form and a massive output of effort through to easy jogging and physical tiredness through time on feet.  The tipping point for me is the half marathon which is short enough that it feels like my form should be good from start to finish, but it is just long enough that the legs and mind can get tired in the latter stages.  This is why my PB still stands from 2011 in a race where I jog walked the last two miles in quite some pain.  I've not been keen to go hard at one since then.  But after a number of key races being failed this year and 2013 drawing to a close, it seemed like a particularly soft PB to attack but with little idea on what paces to target.

In the week before the race, I kept up the usual training with speedwork on the Tuesday and Thursday and used Saturday's parkrun to test a pace that I felt I could hold for the half.  The first three kilometres at that pace felt tough, but I tried to remind myself that I always hate the first two miles of a race, whatever pace I am running.  It still planted a seed of doubt on the viability of the pace but I had decided that I was going to go out relatively hard (i.e. harder than I have for anything over a 10k before) and then look to up the pace with 5k to go.  If everything crumbled and I had misjudged the effort and my fitness, I figures I could cruise through the second half and still grab a PB anyway.  A simple enough plan to which I also added that I wouldn't allow any kilometre splits to slide above a certain pace either.  I knew the course was a little undulating and that I would use effort to guide some of the pacing, but I didn't want to let myself switch off on too many of the uphills and thus start giving myself an excuse to drift away from the goals.  Finally, I wasn't going to be taking on any nutrition or water during the race.  These have caused some stomach issues in a couple of longer races this year and I felt the cool weather meant I could blag 13.1 miles before the consequences caught up with me.

It couldn't have really gone better.  The first 10 miles were exactly to plan.  Paces within a couple of seconds of the target, accelerated the downhills and worked the uphills without blowing hard.  Mentally, I was getting a little tired in the 8-10 mile stages and wondered if I would have anything to accelerate with in those last few miles.  I also kept reflecting on that emergency gel in my shorts pocket.  But lo and behold, at the 10 mile mark was a beautiful sweeping downhill that helped to build momentum into the finish and removed all concerns from my mind.  My legs continued to turn over.  My knees continued to drive.  My heels continued to flick up behind.  This was great.  And when the flat came, and later the hills, the fact that I was crushing my goals meant that I didn't panic when I realised that I was running my 10k pace for those last 5 kilometres, nor when I noticed that I was below my 5k pace during that last kilometre uphill.  And when running into the line, the time spent wondering if those 400metres were ever going to end were half felt.  It felt smooth and easy.  I had happily drifted past dozens of people in those last few miles and continued to do so up until the line.

The race couldn't have gone better.  I had got in 4 minutes below my best possible dream goal.  I felt absolutely fine (if a little spaced out until I found some calories).  My legs had more than coped and a day later, still feel great.  I had put in a decent effort and finished feeling good and knowing there was more to come.  I'm unusually pleased with this.  A nice way to round out the year.

Of course, there are three more weeks left of 2013...