Brighton Marathon - Check out the hot Fireman

I am not entirely sure how I agreed to do this. It may have been in a pub or to break an uncomfortable silence, but somehow I agreed to run this marathon with full fireman uniform, if it could be found. It was on behalf of my work colleague Amy who is taking part in a round the world drive in a fire engine to raise money for 3 great causes. She was supposed to be doing the marathon with me but had to pull out injured a few weeks before. It was a shame, because it meant that I had to look like an idiot on my own.

The Brighton marathon is the newest and perhaps the most ambitious new race in the UK. The city advertises itself as "London-by-the-Sea" and made it clear that it was aiming at the London "rejects" who grow in number each year. They had 12000 places to sell making it the 2nd biggest marathon in the UK after London. They sold the spaces within a week. Interestingly they were accepting entries on the day for those who had places for Boston and other marathons that people could not get to because of the airspace restrictions caused by a volcanic eruption. 

It was also forecast to be the hottest day of the year so far in the UK, a tropical 16 degrees. Having emerged from a very cold winter this felt like summer already. This stupidity was to raise money/awareness for Follow That Fire Engine. Have a look on the website to see the details of this great charity fund raising project. 

Having put the outfit on I waited at the start which was delayed by around 15 minutes as someone had left a car parked on the route. Those 15 minutes I started to heat up quite a lot. The day had started quite cool and crisp and would have been ideal running conditions for someone in a vest. I was hoping for at least that. However before I had even passed the start line I was getting very bothered by the heat in my suit. I had not tested the outfit at all, such is my blaze attitude to races nowadays. I had merely jumped around the living room to make sure the helmet does not bounce too much. 

It took about 5 minutes to pass the start line and as soon as I was running I was just relieved that the outfit wasn't too awkward. The start in Preston Park heads through some streets and then before the first mile there is a banner that says you are at the highest point of the route. "All down hill from here" it exclaimed. I was glad when the first mile marker came up and seemed to celebrate it more than usual? How can I be glad after just one mile? There are another 25 to go?

That became a them for the next few miles. I did not have a watch on so had no idea how long it was taking me but I was heating up quite uncomfortably and watching out for every mile and sometimes kilometer marker. The first few miles had a few minor inclines that you would notice if you were running but I noticed more as they caused me to sweat and then weigh me down. Despite the really great support from the crowd and other runners I was in a bad way quite early on. I walked through the regular water stops and drank 2 bottles each time. I spent a lot of the time walking and people were passing me constantly. 

I've never felt so bad so early in a race, around 6 miles in I was walking a lot and wondering how many hours I'll have to suffer this. Amy had arrived and saw me looking in a world of pain after about 7 miles. I thought that if nothing else this would be good training for Badwater where I fully expect to feel tired, sick and lacking energy from the very first steps of the race. At the same time the crowd were still going wild every time I ran past and I was getting fed up with it. I stopped for a piss only once (and that was an excuse to stop for a minute). I was suffering a sense of humour failure such that I would not have appreciated any jokes about me getting my hose out.

Not long later we were on a long stretch of promenade. The first few miles I was shielded from any breeze by the runners running in the other direction who were miles ahead of me. Only after around 9 miles did I finally feel some breeze on my face that enabled me to cool down a little. It was only a slight breeze as it was a very still day but it helped. I managed to get into a more consistent run after than and was in a sort of equilibrium where my soaking wet fireman jacket would cool me from the sunshine.

The halfway mark of the race is right in the middle of Brighton where the crowds were huge. I felt good at halfway and saw Amy and Steve in the crowd and felt obliged to give Amy a big sweaty hug since it was her fault I was doing this in the first place. I had recovered from the last few miles and felt in a good mood to wave the flag to anyone who would shout at me, which was everyone. I had spent the first half hitting myself in the helmet with the flag pole, now I was waving it around in the air. I felt some strange connection with the others who were in fancy dress, there was a Scooby-doo, a banana, several toilets, a Sponge Bob Square Pants, a Storm Trooper and some army guys.

The support I got in the race was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I hated it in Paris the previous week but now I loved been the centre of attention. Cheerleaders would scream, kids would yell "There's a Fireman", and old ladies would comment on how hot I looked. I certainly felt quite hot. I got constant appreciation from fellow runners too, people coming alongside me asking how the hell I was doing what I was doing. Most just wanted to shake my hand, others would just talk about be as if I wasn't there "Seriously why would you go and do that to yourself". At the time I didn't really appreciate the ridiculousness of what I was doing but I did see another fireman a few miles behind me with the full breathing apparatus on his back. A much braver man than me, though I was carrying a big flag.

I raced through the last few miles to a crescendo of noise and tannoy announcements that followed me through the crowded parts of the race. I was absolutely loving waving my flag around and the whole show of it all. I was suffering some chaffing in not vital areas (lower thighs and my back) where the uniform was clinging and digging into me. There were lots of St John's ambulances

I finished in 4.44, not far off the time I got for my first ever marathon and my second negative split ever. I was a bit disappointed that it was over, I really started to get into it. As soon as I stopped though I cooled right down, I was tempted to sit under the promenade and snooze but I would have frozen. 

All in all a really good experience. I got some "heat" training done, I had a brilliant time running around looking like an idiot and discovered a brilliant event that is sure to become huge in the British Marathon calendar. Which reminds me, when are Runners World going to update their marathon calendar? I can't stand the ugly bloke who's on it now.

Carlsberg don't organise marathons, but if they do can they please start with Paris?

4 years is a long time. I can barely even imagine what I was like back then. Back then I was a young Serpie in Paris and a bit nervous about the start of a marathon. The pressure of having to "perform" in the next 3 and so hours was making me feel a little sick. I didn't tell anyone at the time because there was no such thing as Facebook (imagine that?). It was 5 months since my last marathon and I had forgotten what it felt like to start. I hoped that all those boring nights running around a track doing something or other with my lactate threshold would manifest itself in a finish time that would then be plotted on a bouncy red graph on the clubs website to demonstrate to those that were slower that I was "better" than them and to those that are faster that I was coming to get them. There I was, about to start the ultimate race, 26.2 miles of road. No human has ever run further than that. I'd love to go back and visit that boy, and slap him.

So why would I line up here again with 35000 other runners who will heave through a city on some tarmac? I'm not entirely sure, but I had entered the race for some reason and didn't want to waste the place. There might be a nice medal.

The first part of such an endurance event takes place at a vile exhibition called an "Expo". This typically takes place way out of town and no where near the start and is at the insistence of the race sponsors. It would be much easier just to post peoples race numbers out but the opportunity to have 30000 mostly men 35-45 AB demographic with too much disposable income exposed to a load of needless crap in an oversized basketball court was just too lucrative. 

Upon exiting the station I am immediately pushed back by young people in branded tops while they thrust flyers in my face. It was as if they were flown in from Tottenham Court Road to taunt me. However they are not peddling anything useful like some Subway vouchers or a cereal bar. Instead it's a flyer for some gadget that if I attach it to my foot it will tell me how many times I bang it on the floor.

Having spent ages in a long queue choking on the cigarette smoke of other runners I am prodded wheezing to a desk where I am asked to produce a medical certificate which tells the organisers in no uncertain terms that I maybe will perhaps probably not die whilst doing things with my feet. I irony of getting this certificate is hilarious. You have to expose yourself to all manner of diseases from the great unwashed in a waiting room of a doctors surgery and wait for a person who you have never met before to tell you (for £15) that you definitely probably wont die too much while running in a race with your feet. You go into such a place in the shape of your life, you leave with a piece of paper that you could have produced yourself and swine flu.

I then pick up my number and am then directed to the point in the hall which is furthest away from the exit in order to maximise my opportunities to buy shit I don't need. It is a tactic employed to great effect by IKEA and leaves me wading though a sea of energy gels that will make me 5.7% faster, running tops that go really well with my shoes and invitations to repeat this awful experience at other cities around the world. I think I fared quite well, emerging only with a Raidlight bottle belt and a Billy bookcase. I could have got more but someone gouged my eye out with a flyer.

I have spent 3 hours on my feet so far, mooching in queues and bottlenecks. The "How to run marathons" textbook tells me I should be resting at home, revising my split times and laying out my kit. Luckily those textbooks are full of shit.

The morning of the marathon sees many experienced runners following the same ritual. Wake up 3 hours before the start, have a shit, eat some food, have a cup of coffee, have another shit, take some imodium, drink lots of water and if you are lucky have another shit. This ritual was ruined in Paris though by 2 things, first that nowhere opens before noon and you can't even get a coffee and second the organisers decided that 12 toilets for 35000 runners was adequate. There was actually a couple of places open where you could sit around and watch waitresses ignore you and serve other people coffee. Luckily there was a McDonalds nearby where you could just go up to a counter and say "I would like a coffee, here is some money" and then you get a coffee. Why has globalisation not even reached France yet?

Being an ultrarunner I have become very tolerant of the need to go to the toilet in public. In bushes or at the side of streets is fine. It is not fine to practically do it on other peoples feet, or shit in urinals. It was a a ghastly site watching a great city get violated worse than when the Third Reich marched here in 1940. 

The start was equally horrific. I was quite near the front in the 3.15 pen. The idea is that the faster people go at the front so that everyone ends up getting off quite quickly. In reality those who can push in the hardest are the ones who get to the front and they tend to be fatter. About a minute after I squeezed into the cage the entranced closed and people would have to climb over a 6 foot fence to be able to start the race. I felt like a battery hen and was not too worried about anyone laying an egg on me, more about shitting on me.

I heard a countdown from 10 in French (I remember that at least from school, I forgot what the French was for "please can you refrain from urinating on me") and then a loud horn sounded, and then..... Nothing. Unless you are at the front you are not going to start until several minutes after the actual start. The first mile is down the very famous Avenue De Champs-Elysees which the French like to call "The most beautiful avenue in the world". Today the most beautiful avenue in the world has been transformed into a latrine. Runners are heading off in all directions to empty their bladders, a job made more difficult by the presence of spectators with kids and prams. It's a shame the Mona Lisa isn't here somewhere, that would be perfect to wipe my arse on.

Nowadays with road marathons I know at least that passing the start line means I'm near the end. In less than 4 hours I'll be in a pub somewhere, there will be no running into sunset, or sunrise or from city to city. Pretty boring really. 

I settled into a 3.15 pace and was feeling quite comfortable. I had been suffering with a cough for the previous week and was not able to give my lungs a proper workout but was not struggling to breathe as much as I feared. My legs felt a little achy as always but that usually goes away after 30 miles. 

I was quickly exposed to more of the things I hate about road marathons. The beeping heart rate monitors of the runners who have not only followed a spreadsheet for 6 months getting to the start line but are going to follow an annoying beep for their whole race. They must get as much pleasure from finishing as a dog does from fetching a stick. I am also being subjected to the rabid screams and taunts from a heaving crowd telling me to "Go go go" as opposed to "Yeah just stop and piss off". This year the race numbers included our names. 4 years ago it would have been really welcome to have people shouting out my name, now I was just feeling really claustrophobic as a sea of strangers engulfed the course screaming at me and standing on the blue line. The blue line represents the "racing line" of the marathon and is what the front runners follow to ensure that they do not step a stride over 26.195 miles. This route is now unavailable to me as I weave around the course created by the swelling of people waiting for the coffee shops to open and the random people crossing the road. 

The Paris Marathon is actually a really nice route and the city is perfect for sight seeing. I think there are much better ways of doing this that following a line of people drowning in the smell of their own sweat and faeces. You do get to pass a lot of the parks and buildings of the historic city. I remembered from the last time how great it was running along the Seign and under the bridges just after half way. It was around then that my knee started to trouble me, I've never had any bother with my knee before. I subscribe to the view that running slowly over trails for 24 hours is not damaging to your body at all whereas trying to nail yourself for 3 hours or more on tarmac wearing large pieces of foam. 

The temperature hit a tropical 15 degrees and I am starting to choke on other peoples body odour. The long tunnels offer some shelter from the sun and many people slow to a walk since the crowd can't see their humiliation now. I am determined to carry on running as the crowd I am in will be worse further back. I made better progress through the long tunnel than Diana did many years ago and emerge to be blown back by the screaming rabid masses. The knee continues to hurt but I just want to get it over with as soon as possible, not normally a feeling I get less than 3 hours into a race.

At least I saw the Eiffel tower and to my knowledge no one had shat on it yet. Just 3 weeks ago I was doing a race where I would end running inside that and up the steps to the finish line. The thought of doing that again was quite thrilling and I even considered doing it. However I had factored into my clothes packing that I was going to gain an extra T-shirt this weekend and had to finish this bloody race to do so. Damn it.

The last few miles are though a park with very narrow paths that reduces us to a very slow stutter again. I feel bad because I am holding people up with my slow hobbling. I hate to think I prolonged this ordeal for others. Soon enough the finish line came but I was unable to run across it because there was a queue. The pile up of people was caused by everyone stopping their watches and swerving to the side as they did so. Their cherished finish photo (40 euros) would forever capture the moment where they looked down and panicked about their watches showing a few more seconds than they actually ran it in. I put the watch in my pocket after around 10 miles, I felt the need to look at it every kilometre and it was further sapping what little enjoyment I was going to get from this race.

But the marathon wasn't over..... There was then a massive bottleneck to actually get out of the pen that they force you in to get your bags. It took 45 minutes of been made to stand and not being clear as to why. Eventually we escaped and Dan and I found a pub to drink a well earned pint of Guinness (9 euros). 

OK- I admit that was a bit more moany than was necessary and Paris does represent perfectly what I hate about these events. It still is a pretty poorly organised farce, London is far better organised in comparison without the start mess and finish travesties. I still am not sure why I went for such a marahton, perhaps it was the company, it was great being in the pub afterwards seeing a couple of Serpies fly past me during the run. 

The whole experience confirmed to me that road marathons are not my thing. I have no desire to train or hurt myself on tarmac to achieve a time to post against others. 4 years ago that was very different but then I guess so was I. I had not experienced just how fun running for the sake of it can be. I don't need people watching me or people all around me to enjoy a run. But who knows? I am sure as I approach my 40's and start to suffer the mid-life crisis I may feel that the only way to show that I've done anything with my life is to try and smash myself over the streets of Paris. Hopefully they will have more Starbucks by then.

Feet in the Clouds

There exist a few books that "have" to be read in the same way that some ultras "have" to be run. Feet in the Clouds by Richard Asquith is one such book, one of a handful of books that every runner seems to have read. I am ashamed of myself for taking so long to finally start reading it, similarly I am ashamed to say that my first visit to the lakes in Cumbria was just this weekend.

I really enjoyed reading most of this. The early parts than deal with the authors early attempts at the Bob Graham Round I found myself chuckling through as it was very close to home. A boy from London trying to take on some of the spectacular hills of the Lake District by throwing gear and science at it. Sports drinks and fancy shoes and maps. It struck me like he had missed the point as to what it was do run on those fells, not that I really know. Reminded me of several discussions on my clubs forum in the winter that would start something like "I've noticed it's snowing outside. Obviously I can't just go and run in the snow but I have a spreadsheet to stick to so don't know what to do. Is there a piece of kit I can buy that will just make the snow go away?"

The Bob Graham Round is a legendary fell run in the UK. It's not a race but a route of 42 fells that the eponymous B&B owner decided to run on his 42nd birthday. Since that running in 1932 a few thousand UK runners have made it their mission to complete it. Some do and some don't. The preparation and training is all consuming though.

Most of the book is concerned with the fell running scene and profiles of some of it's most talented runners. I glazed over the politics and admin of the running clubs and organisations up north but loved the portraits of some of the fells heros. Joss Naylor and Billy Bland are legendary on the fells. There are so many others, some who came down from the hills to compete in road marathon racing, some of them doing very well indeed. You wonder how many olympic class athletes there were in the Lake District who just could not be bothered with running 26.2 on a road.

Askwith is not one of these super athletes but takes on the challenge anyway. The account of his own personal efforts and failures makes great reading for those who want to make an attempt at this. 

I recommend going to the lakes though, it is beautiful but really hard terrain.

 "If you're not cold, or wet, or lost, or exhausted, or bruised by rocks or covered in mud, you're not really experiencing the mountains properly. You need to feel it, to interact with it; to be in it, not just looking from the outside. You need to lose yourself - for it is then that you are most human."

ONER

"To much of what we do nowadays is a foregone conclusion". This was part of an email exchange with Oli Sinclair that tipped me towards doing the ONER. I had this weekend planned to run the Jurassic Coastal Challenge, 3 brilliant coastal marathons in 3 days. I had done this event 2 years ago and loved it. Around 5 hours of running each day and then time to relax, stretch, eat, talk and just enjoy being by the coast. I was really looking forward to it. But Oli's point was quite fair, there are not that many opportunities to do something seriously hard, something where finishing is not a given. 3 very hilly marathons run back to back starting at night would certainly qualify as one of those. Running from the sunset

The ONER is young but already has an interesting history. in 2007 20 people started and 5 finished. In 2008 (when I did the JCC) around 40 started but the runners were pulled out after 10 miles because the weather was so bad. I remember being in the caravan on the Saturday night thinking the roof was going to blow off and wondering how people could run in such conditions. They ended up running about 55 miles. Last year the organisers (reluctantly I think) re-staged the event in August so the weather was better and there was more daylight and many more finished. This year they went back to the old time as there were suspicions that having it in summer made it too "easy".

So there were were, 6pm in the evening in some field near Charmouth in Dorset. The sun was about to set and many people I knew had just finished their second marathon of the weekend, the first starting where we were stood. We were to retrace their steps along the 2 marathons and then get a head start on them before they started their third at around 10am (or 9am as the clocks were going forward just to confuse us). 

The start was very typical, a guy yells "GO" and 61 runners walk/jogged into a rhythm. Given that we could be on our feet for 24 hours no one was really keen to head to the front (and then be responsible for navigating). As always there are stiles and gates to pass which cause a few bottlenecks early on but no one is worried. As the field spread I noticed a couple set off in the distance and a whole trail of runners strewn across the hills. I never turn up to these things with the intentions to run with anyone and was in a crowd with Mark Cockbain, Allan Rumbles, Drew Sheffield and others. The groups got smaller and smaller as the sun set around an hour after the start. Only around 5 miles in there was a turn that a large group of us were debating. This is where Drew and some others left us and they appeared to be wandering out to sea, we could see their headlights and glow sticks in the distance. I think we ended up going the right way.

The Dorset Coast is very hilly. From the start we were ascending hills and then coming down stairways. Everyone walked these from the off, there were not a huge number of opportunities to run early on. This was made harder by the muddiness of the path. I had forgotten to pack trail shoes and was wearing road shoes. It had rained quite a lot the few days before and the 250+ runners who had run the days before had churned it up nicely. It would have been nice to keep our feet dry for as long as possible but within 10 miles we were ankle deep in mud. There was no point wasting energy and time trying to avoid it, I just ran right through. My choice of shoe did not seem to be a disadvantage, I was falling over at the same rate as everyone else. Mark always looked quite funny in the mud, like a baby giraffe. He'd curse quite a lot and wondered why they hadn't just covered it in tarmac. Allan and Drew were more like enthusiastic hippos, charging right in. 

It was actually really frustrating and energy sapping to have to deal with so much mud so soon. It would have been nice to get ahead a bit on the sections that were normally good running, before our bodies started to fade but the mud was slowing us down quite a bit. As darkness fell I could not see what I was standing in any more but every now and then my feet would just go right through something. Portland by night (not my photo)

This was the first time I had a serious kit check before an event. The guys were very strict on it and for good reason, the coast is notorious for sudden changes in conditions. My kit was checked fully, even ensuring that I had everything waterproofed in bags and I had their phone numbers stored in a fully charged phone. While giving the briefing Ben Mason (head of VOTWO) said that while we should all be wearing our head torches we should however try to run without switching them on. This seemed on to me at the time but I thought I'd try it out and it was amazing. When running with a head torch your focus narrows to a particular area that is lit and you are blind to everything else. The moon was full and exposed and running in the dark with little light was a joy. Much easier than I thought it would be. You have to trust your feet a bit more but it was absolutely true what Ben said, you can see in the dark.

It was most convenient to break this up into 3 marathons since the checkpoints were positioned approx every 10k. I was hoping to complete the first one in not much more than 5 hours but in the end it was more like 6. There was a very long stretch of mud approaching the road onto Portland where checkpoint 4 was located. We could see the island of Portland jutting out from the mainland from the start. It was a great sight to watch the sun set and the island light up though it didn't appear to get much bigger as we ran towards it. 

This was the first checkpoint that we stopped at for some time and they were amazing. Set up in the back of a couple of vans and with some very helpful people fussing all over you. The guys were very obliging in filling my water pack and getting me all the coke I could drink. There was a van full of goodies to chose from. In VOTWO and many similar events you tend to be faced with a choice between food and science. On the food side we had pasta, sandwiches, chocolate bars and sweets. The science choice was cliff bars and some energy beans. In the middle of the night while I'm soaked with mud, cold and exhausted and with another 2 really hard marathons still to run the decision was easy. Food beats Science.

Mark and Allan, just before another big hill just after sunrisePortland was going to be a mixed bag. It was notorious for people getting lost as there are quite a few twists and turns in the coastal path which are easy to miss, especially in the dark when tired. On the other hand much of it is road which would give us a chance to make up a bit of time. Getting to the checkpoint at the lighthouse at Portland bill was fairly straightforward, there was one large hill and some trail that I recalled from the Portland Marathon. The Lighthouse was shinning it's light across the sea in the dark and was easy to see in the hills of Portland. Like with Paris last week and the Eiffel tower shining at night I thought those who had run this during the day were missing out. Lighthouses look fairly useless in the day, it was great seeing it in action.

At checkpoint 5 I had my first cup of coffee for 10 days. I had given up accidentally (when I had food poisoning) and decided to stay off it until this run. Previously when running in the night I had to drink lots of coffee as it had little effect with the huge amounts I normally drink. Now I was ready to reap it's benefits. At no point did I feel sleepy during the event, earlier though while wading through the mud I did think about just lying down on a bench, that's got to beat slipping around in the wet. The next section was along some quite tough coastal path that was very rocky. I had done this before in the Portland Marathon and normally it is brilliant to run on but only in the light. Taking on all those rocks in the dark was difficult as well as the ups and downs on narrow paths going to the sea and back up. This was the first and only time I used my torch.

Sure enough we did get lost in Portland, we had to do a loop of the prison which has walls and corridors sticking out of everywhere. We took a turning onto a road and as soon as we hit tarmac Mark sets off like roadrunner and tried to make some time up. Around half a down down this street we were stopped by some marshals in a van telling us that we had gone wrong and should head back, uphill. We re-traced our tracks and I was using a gps device that helped to keep us on the route, when I could be arsed taking it out of my pocket. We took in the lovely sight of a quarry (off route) and made some other mistakes but eventually made it back down onto the long road out of Portland. Wrong Turn - We were supposed to be on that cliff edge

It was quite an odd sight, we'd be scratching our heads trying to figure out which way to go and then a bunch of other runners would just appear from some place we never ran down and head off in another direction that we did not follow, almost as if they were in a different event. As soon as we hit the road Mark set off again and started talking about not finishing within the cut-offs. We were due to arrive at the halfway stage at 3.30, so 9 and a half hours for the first half giving us a 2 and a half hour buffer from the cut-offs. The times the checkpoints close are based on a 24 hour run. Getting more than 2 hours ahead in the first half was more than enough I thought, particularly as we had gotten lost and had to wade through all that mud in the dark. I thought that once it got light we'd be moving quicker and we were told there is a lot less mud in the second half. It was quite funny watching Mark panic a bit though. I think he likes seeing "DNF" against his name less so than being called a Mackem. 

We were so fortunate with the weather for the night. Around 8 degrees and with no rain forecast until well into Sunday. It was hard enough with the rain that happened before and I can't imagine how difficult it would have been if it was raining too. At the halfway point we stopped again for more food and sat down a bit. The next section was on road and promenade through Weymouth, more chance to get some quick(ish) miles done. I started to feel a bit chilly and made a comment to Allan and Mark that I was regretting the choice to wear "Man Shorts" instead of "Girl Tights". Mark and Allan were both wearing shorts but everyone else at the CP were wearing tights and one got a little upset with my comment. I didn't mean anything by it. Well I did. 

Weymouth was easy running, even with all the drunk people. It was around 4am and the town was alive with people staggering in and out of kebab and pizza places. The kind of thing I do when I have a weekend off running, which is not so much nowadays. We pushed the pace for a bit and headed out of the other side of the town and hit the hills again. At 5am the clouds started to light with the upcoming sun. Having run for near 12 hours it was good to see the sun on it's way again. This is the 5th time I have seen the sun set and rise again in the same race, each time is pretty special. It was made even better by running without a torch. If you haven't done either before I recommend it.

I did not really study any of the maps beforehand but had memory of what happened in the JCC a couple of years ago. I seemed to recall the end of day 2 being very hard with lots of climbs. We were about to hit that. The "easy" running of the previous 30k was not as easy as we'd hoped. The first marathon had really drained us and on approaching the hilly end to the second we were all exhausted. By this point it was just the 3 of us, normally there were more people around that we didn't know and running in groups is a good idea when map reading and darkness are involved.

At the start of the race I hadn't "agreed" to run with anyone. I see Mark, Allan, Drew and various others quite a lot at different ultra and we are usually in different states of disrepair according to what events we had done recently. We'd always chat in the early stages and then settle in to our own pace and get on with it. Usually we would all be separated but today (and yesterday) Mark, Allan and I were together throughout. It was almost as if it were decided early on when we were navingating our way around that farmhouse that we'd stick together till the end. It was great having those guys out there.

Allan, Me and Mark and Durdle DoorThe approach to Lullworth Cove and the 2nd marathon finish was every bit as hilly as I remembered. The sunshine was not helping us get up huge flights of steps with uneven sized steps and many of the paths were still very slippy. It usually took a couple of breaks to get up each one. I'd turn around and sometimes sit down to take in some of the breathtaking views of the cliffs and the harsh terrain that we had just climbed. The route into CP 8 was every bit as hard as I remembered and I recall 2 years ago stopping at that point and recovering a little to complete the third marathon. I also recall the first half of that third marathon being even harder than the end of the second, with some truly massive climbs and much more steep, proper hands and knees climbing sometimes. Unfortunately today I was not about to be whisked off in a van to a BBQ and a nice bed, having just scrambled over miles of harsh hills I had another marathon of them coming up.

Lullworth Cove arrived at around 7.30 in the morning, that gave us 10.30 hours to do the last marathon. There was a long but shallow stairway down to the CP which was quite hard work in our conditions. I think this was our longest CP stop, I just lay down in the grass for a few minutes and thought about how nice it would be to fall asleep. I had changed my socks at the previous CP which gave me a little relief from the mud that filled my road shoes. I still don't think it mattered what I wore, even slippers. Times like this you really start to crave the things we normally take for granted, like a bed or a shower, a clean pair of socks or a toothbrush. Even a toilet with handrails. The staff again fussed over me, making sure I had enough water and was full of food before heading out on the last marathon. It would be about an hour before the first group of the JCC people would start running. It felt quite nice getting ahead of them and making the path muddy for them as they had so kindly done for us the 2 days before.

10.30 hours for a marathon sounds really easy in any condition, that is slow walking. It did not help however that the start of this marathon involved the biggest and hardest climbs yet. Not just the number and the height of them but the steepness too. In our conditions there was a need to have something to hold onto and we had a choice of weak tree branches or rusty barbed wire fence. Those hills were all harder than before and as soon as they went up they went right back down again giving no chance of doing any running. Those small breaks where it was possible to run Mark would get us all moving. 45 minutes after we had left Lullworth we saw a sign that said it was 2 miles away. This instantly made us do the sums, that is little over 2 miles an hour which is really pushing it for a finish in the cut-off. 

It didn't help that we managed to wander off course somehow and inland quite a lot. There were a few firing ranges around which we would have to go around but for some reason we went on the wrong side and all of a sudden when I looked to my right I could see a huge mass of land between us and the coast. I could not even see the sea. As if by magic a VOTWO van pulled up and told us we were way off course and had to go back. Allan looked (and sounded) rather vexed at this point and looked like he might want to push someone off a cliff. Luckily for us we were miles away from one, that being the problem in the first place. It did not take too long to correct the mistake though. We took a road then a hill (special bonus hill) back onto the coast where we saw the first runners from the JCC bobbing along.

The detour had set us back a little but we were still in good spirits. Given that most of the JCC runners had not passed us yet and we only had 30k to go meant that we were likely to finish in good time. It was a lovely morning and a lot of walkers took advantage and were on the path. All were very nice and would cheer and stand aside to let us stagger through. I took every opportunity to answer their questions about what the hell we were doing. "SEVENTY EIGHT MILES?". There were some more really steep climbs that I had to use my arms to drag myself up and now we had the added challenge of trying not to get in the way of others. There was a steep slope that was so muddy that I lost my shoe in it. When I put my foot back in and bent down to put it back on I got cramp. I was stuck there for about a minute with my feet glued to the mud and cramp and the only way out was to roll over like a pig in mud and get the shoe back on. I was really sick of the mud by then, it wasn't wet any more it was just like glue. While we were laughing and cursing at the ridiculousness of going up only to go straight back down again Mark commented "You're doing the UTMB this year aren't you? It is just like this, only that's 2 days long".

CP 10 was a huge milestone and we rewarded ourselves with a sit down. We now had 6.30 hours to run a half marathon and were told by the guys there that the last 21k were "easy". Just one more biggish hill and otherwise quite runnable. I felt in quite good shape all things considered. My calves and quads were not hurting at all as they usually do in hilly events. The soles of my feet were very sore and I had a blister on my heel which was causing some bother. My right knee was also hurting, probably from running 65 miles on a slightly slanted path. It's always nice when doing hard races with cut-offs to get to the point where you know you can just walk and still finish. We were at that stage now, the last 13 miles were fairly easy by the standards of before but we were keen on getting it finished.

Photos can't really do justice to how hilly these wereWe could see the next checkpoint already, it was a lighthouse in Swanage. As we started to run we saw more and more runners of the JCC pass. It was easy to tell us apart, we had mud all over our legs whereas the JCC people's legs were pristine. We got a lot of congratulatory pats on the back from the runners as they flew past us. For the first time as I was leaving the checkpoint I met James Elson, a fellow British Badwater entrant for this year. It was good to finally meet him though I probably was not my most conversational. Soon into the stage Ian Sharman came flying past, he had won the 2 previous days and was winning the third. He looked very comfortable and more so than Huw Lobb who as a few minutes behind him. A few others passed before Claire Shelley bounced by in her usual way. 

Not long after that I fell over and twisted my ankle. I was gutted that with little over 12k to go I was reduced to a walk as it was quite painful. Mark and Allan waited a little to see how I was and I told them to go an ahead as it was likely I'd be walking the rest. It was a real shame as I was really looking forward to a strong and quick finish. The last checkpoint seemed to take an age to come as I tried running a few times to test the ankle but stopping quickly each time. I finally staggered into the final checkpoint and filled my water for what I thought might be a 4 hour walk to the finish and was really surprised to see Mark and Allan still there. They could have been long gone by now. I took some painkillers off Mark and we all set off together, initially walking through a very slippy harbour. Then Mark would start pointing to things as he had done for the last 20 odd miles and say "Let's run to that building/phonebox/beach house/chav". It kept us focused and going till the end. 

There was a minor wander inland up one last hill and then back out onto the beach in Studland. I definitely remember this from 2 years ago and was promised that the finish was less than 2 miles away. Shortly before hitting the beach we saw 3 other dishevelled ONER's hobbling along quite slowly. Allan immediately said "If we take these bastards we can get 10th place". I had no idea what place we were in but he seemed keen on getting ahead of them and as we were a group I had no choice but to participate. We ran the whole section of the beach, occasionally being overtaken by some sprightly JCC runners. In the distance we saw a shape of a man pointing inwards and we knew it was pointing to the finish line. Gemma appeared taking photos then pointed us into the sand dunes where we were told there was just half a mile to go.

These were not big sand dunes, none of them were as tall as me however they annoying enough to make us say "Bastard" quite a lot. Then there were some deep puddles to wash our feet in as we made it to the finish area. Mark yelled "THERE'S A BOGIE ON OUR TAIL", and we looked around to see a runner steaming in to beat us to the finish. He suspected it was a ONER and I really couldn't care less, in fact it was a JCCer and it didn't matter. It had just started to rain as we crashed into the finish area with arms raised and been missed my the cameras completely. 21 hours and 7 minutes. 

Soon after we staggered into the finish area I saw Jany Tsai, Toby Mellville and Jo Proudlove come in shortly followed by Nick Morrison-Smith (who I stole a few photos off here). It was great to see them again. I had not stopped moving since they wished my luck 24 hours earlier. We heard news that the weather had turned really bad and they were pulling the race at the last checkpoint. I can't imagine getting that far and not being able to finish but I think in the end everything was ok. 

I don't like to take part in debates as to which race is harder than which and what is the toughest race ever, they always end up descending into a pointless list of quotes and stats. I know I'm going to be asked to compare this with some of the other things I've done and it will be hard to do so. The races I've got the most satisfaction from are those where finishing is not a given. Nowadays most 50 mile runs are just that, a foregone conclusion that by hook or crook I'll get to the end. This on the other hand was different, for so much of the run I (and Mark and Allan) were occasionally worried for our finish. It was only at CP 10 with a half marathon to go that we felt like we could finally relax. For 65 miles it was in the balance, it is quite stressful at the time but when it is lifted it is an amazing feeling.this was one of the shorter and easier staircases

The West Highland Way race and the Bob Graham Round were mentioned as comparable to this, I don't know having not done either. I think all people on the starting line of these events have a healthy fear of failure and a realistic expectation that it could happen. What if it rained all night or we got even more lost? If I twisted my ankle earlier or didn't have Mark and Allan to run with? There are a lot of things that could have happened that would jeopardise that 24 hour finish. The prospect of giving it everything and still failing is what brings people to do these things. It's what made me decide to do this instead of the 3 day option.

I have recently been reading a very good paper about how to run the Badwater Ultramarathon. Almost in the first paragraph the author had some things to say on the "hardness" of races. You can make any race more difficult, by adding more hills, more miles, more extreme weather or something else, but it does not really matter because if you to the same people will still finish it. There comes a point in some races where you have to go further than you can imagine and this was certainly one of those. Mark has proved himself over the past decade as a man who can finish anything and even he would admit that this was really tough. Allan has breezed through the ultras he has done until now and this was his biggest test so far and he succeeded. I'd like to think that I was one of those people who can finish anything, I think I am. Finishing the ONER though was the first evidence of this I had gained since I kissed the foot of Leonidas. I have a few more tests this year that are anything but forgone conclusions.

Hot Bendy Girls

Or at least that was what I was hoping for. Yesterday I did my first ever session of Bikram Yoga and could not concentrate on the sight of the above for fear of dying.

16 weeks out from the Badwater race I made a start on getting my body used to heat. Bikram yoga takes place in a heated room of around 40 degrees and around 30 other people. It gets quite warm. The heat is supposed to allow for deeper stretching which is why most people do it. I just wanted to try and endure the heat though improving my flexibility would not be a bad thing.

I arrived at 6.30 in the morning and was already hot and bothered by the time I was in reception. Filling in the forms was making me sweat. I entered the room and was not immediately blown away by the heat, so far so good. We were given the intro talk which was mostly aimed at me as the first timer about when to drink water and if you feel bad you should sit or lie down. She said that more than anything I should try to at least stay in the room.

The first few stretches were fairly easy in that I could do them without falling over. It was very difficult concentrating on the stretches, looking around at what others were doing while clawing sweat from my face and trying not to slip over in my own puddle. I was told to keep my feet together which was much harder than it sounds and then the stretches got more complicated, mostly involving standing on one leg. This is beyond me at the best of times but I was doing ok I think. I was not nearly stretching as far as the rest of the room but I was staying upright. I had taken my t-shirt off to cool down and tried to use it to dry myself but it was already saturated in my own warm sweat. 

After 45 minutes I started to feel quite light headed and sick. This I was told was very normal and I should take a break if needed. I saw another guy sat down so I sat down too and ducked out of a few of the exercises. A few minutes later I got back up and joined in some more however it was short lived as I had to sit back down again. Another 5 minutes passed and I decided to get up again and join in however as soon as I did my head felt so light that I had to get back on the floor. I had done nearly an hour, only 30 minutes to go.

While I was on the floor I was trying to cool down as much as possible and I know that the best way to do this is by staying still. I just couldn't though, I swung my head from side to side breathing through my nose and was swaying my feet. I just had to take my mind off the heat and the sickness. I have been reading some advice about badwater and one of the common themes is that just staying in the sauna is enough, you don't have to bother with any exercise. This was not a proper sauna but was my first attempt at enduring proper heat for a prolonged time. 

The clock ticked very slowly as the rest of the class were also lying down but doing other exercises. At least they could not see me any more. I tried to watch what they were doing and take note for next time but the extra though involved just warmed my brain more. Finally the 90 minutes were up and although we were encouraged to stay in the room longer and relax I headed straight out, fumbling my mat back onto the rail and sitting down outside.

So, I managed less than an hour of exercise at 40 odd degrees before lying down. Come July I need to be running in 50 degrees for a day and more. I got a lot of pats on the back from others there who said I did well to stay in the room. I was quite pleased with the effort. So far so good. I am going to try to do it every week for the next couple of months and then increase it nearer to the race. 

Eco Trail De Paris

This had the sorry smell of deja vu. Just over 2 years ago in the days before my first 50 mile race I got food poisoning from some nasty chicken place in London after a night out. Thursday and Friday I battled to rid my body of whatever evil that passes as chicken in West London had entered it but to no avail. I started the Rotherham 50 on the Saturday and on swallowing my 12th immodium of the day I decided it would be a good idea to pull out at 17 miles.

Crowded Start

The same thing happened again. I had not learned from the past and on Thursday I was lying in bed with what felt like really bad stitch. I had been sent home from work for vomiting and could not hold in any fluid. I lay in bed all day and only got up to get rid of the water I had just drank. I was determined to make it to the start line regardless.

The Eco Trail De Paris promised to be a great race and I would have been very disappointed to miss it. It was certainly one of the biggest ultras I had never heard of, with 1500 starters for the 80k and 1200 for the 50k. The route ambles through some lovely countryside point to point from way out west and finishing in the Eiffel Tower. Not a huge number of international competitors, it was a very French race. I only knew Ian and Helen from the UK.

A short and confusing train ride then a coach transported us quite quickly to the start in St Quentin. We got there a bit early which left me with some time to try and eat more food. I had 2 meals in 2 days and was mindful of the task of running 50 miles empty. Still, I know a lot of ultra-runners who swear by not eating the day before so maybe I was about to learn something new. Ian went off to the front and I deliberately stayed near the back, happy to follow a slow pace that was just going to see me to the end of the race.

The first few miles for me were stop-start is some parks. 1500 runners crowding through some narrow paths meant there was a lot of stopping early on. After a few miles the congestion eased (as I hoped my own would increase) and we could all settle into a jog. It was still very slow going and it was quite warm (16 degrees) and I was thankful of the many parts of the route that were under the trees. biggish hill

This would be described as a "hilly" course. Certainly not mountainous but with probably 20 odd short sharp inclines (think parliament hill but twice as steep). They would be walked by most and on another day I would have made more effort to run up them but did not feel the energy to today. In fact after the very first one I was feeling a bit giddy and wondered how I will cope with the others that were going to come. I put these thoughts out of my mind quite well by recalling some parts of "survival of the Fittest" that I had recently read. It is a must read for any endurance runner. In it there are tales of how the human body and do extraordinary things in dim circumstances such as extreme heat, cold or starvation. I decided to stop being such a pussy about the whole throwing up thing and not eating and just get on and do the race. It was only 50 miles ffs.

The checkpoints near the start are quite sparse. The first at 13 miles then the second at 33. Those 20 miles can be tricky without enough water and we were warned as such in the briefing. There was a lot of kit to carry in the race which seemed excessive but in the end seemed sensible. 2 litres of fluid, food, coat, trousers (or corset?), TWO headtorches, reflective armband and some other stuff. I was struggling to ration my drink for the warm 20 miles to the second checkpoint and was looking around for a shop to buy something. Luckily at an observatory 25 miles in there was a water pump with a crowd of runners drinking and hosing themselves. I stuck my mug in a few times to neck some cold water and then no longer worried about having enough, the checkpoints were all closer together after that.25 miles to go

It was in the observatory that we first got a look at the Eiffel Tower. I can't think of another race I have done where I can see the finish from 25 miles away. It was a really nice sight and there were lots of planet displays that I would normally have spent time looking at. However I had to press on, I didn't want to leave Mr Sharman waiting too long, particularly as he had the key to the hotel room.

The second checkpoint came finally and was a brilliant display of Frenchness as all of them were. Cheese, meat and bread and lots of cake bars. All I craved for the entire race was a few cups of coke which I took. I would have loved to have stuffed my face with all of it but resisted in case my body rejected it. In fact the sickness had all but gone. I felt a bit weak but my stomach was fine. Could it be that stuffing your face with meaty food is bad for you in these things? Perhaps.

I tried not to stay in the checkpoints too much but some degree of faffing was required to fill up my bladder and empty my shoes. There was a funny sight of people sat down taking a significant break, lying down or getting medical attention. All felt a bit much for 50 country miles but was an amazing scene. 

Having done 53k the checkpoints were all only 9k apart now and I was looking forward to more coke. I was so pleased that I had gotten out of bed to do this and that it wasn't hurting much, or at all. My legs were in great shape. I had got twice as far as the 17 miserable miles I managed in Rotherham 2 years ago and I was going to finish. I started to do some good running, overtaking quite a few people as I did.

After not many more miles I was confused to see what looked like a checkpoint. I knew I had not just run 9k in 30 minutes. It was in fact an equipment check, and I failed. The one thing I didn't have was the one thing they asked for, the reflective armband. I did not put up much of a protest as they asked for it. I tried to say "umm, it fell off" but they did not buy it. A lady just took a note of my number and allowed me to go on. It made me laugh a little and I thought of what might happen. I hear of people getting pulled from the London Marathon right at the end for cheating, when they can see the finish line. I thought it would be a bit harsh to drag me from under the Eiffel Tower in this manner but the thought crossed my mind.A Checkpoint

I was still in the woods when darkness fell. I have run in the dark many times before and always try to leave it till very last light before turning on my torch. When I did it was amazing, the trees had little yellow reflective strips on and all the other runners were dutifully wearing their armbands and reflective strips. I felt bad for not doing the same. It can be quite tricky running in the dark, you want to shine your torch on the floor so you can avoid things but then you can't see where you are going and risk taking a wrong turn. I think it's best to just let your instinct guide you and not worry about the floor too much. I had run 40 miles now without falling over so I was due a tumble anyway.

The last checkpoint was a beautiful sight. Set at some racecourse we ran across fields to get to it. Then on leaving we were treated to a spectacular view of Paris by night with the finish line glowing like a beacon across the whole city. I wish I took more photos during the race and didn't as my camera was low on battery but I did manage to get one last photo of how it looked 10k from the end of the race. It was pretty special.

10k to go...

There were a few more miles of woods as we descended into the city and then onto the river path. This is when the sky opened and unleashed some of the heaviest rain I have run in. It just came out of nowhere and soaked the path we ran on. All of a sudden I was ankle deep in water and absolutely loving it. I saw a few ahead of me trying to step over the puddles but there really was no point. I took charge and led everyone thought the middle of everything and laughing to myself as I did. I loved it, only 3 miles to the end and dwarfed by the now intimidating presence of the tower shining it's light over the streets searching out the runners to finish the race. It felt like a scene from War of the Worlds (except the tower was welcoming rather than trying to kill us).

I passed the Statue of Liberty (or whatever it is called here) and thought about how free I was feeling. Soaking wet and shivering I was running towards one of the worlds most iconic monuments with some other wet Frenchmen while others ran for cover under bridges. This is proper freedom.

The last mile involves some road crossings and all are very well marshalled by the police. I was amazed by the patience of the people and traffic of Paris for this race. By now the runners are very thinly spread and I had no one ahead of me to follow. The four enormous feet of the Eiffel Tower finally came into view and I was led across the road and into the expo marquee where everyone cheered as I ran behind the podium, a very odd feeling to be outside and in the rain to be all of a sudden indoors with a load of screaming people. I ran back out the other side then into the south entrance to the tower. The finish line was only 50m away, and I was right underneath it.

I didn't really appreciate before the race how great it would be to actually finishing INSIDE the Eiffel Tower. I was given a ticket at the bottom of the steps and then tried to haul myself up. There were a few tourists climbing the steps and not quite knowing why I seemed in such a rush. I saw a runner ahead and made no effort to catch him, even though I grew up in Leicester I have been taught that it's rude to overtake people on stairs. I was not sure at this point how many I would have to climb, it only goes to the first level and on getting there I displayed my ticket to the guards (it was a little sweaty by then) and then turned into the finish. 9 hours and 20ish. 

There was not a lot in the tower other than beer and coke (I still went for the coke) and a group of us waited for the lift back down and into the marquee that I had just run through to be treated to yet more food. Again it was cheese and meat and normally I would have destroyed it but was still lacking in appetite. 

This was a truly magnificent race and one I am so glad at making the effort to start. Getting to the start line was difficult (via a coach journey from London) but once I has started the finishing was easy. Seeing the finish line from 25 miles out, then again at night with 10k to go and then running to the tower and letting it swallow you is indescribable. One for next year definitely, with about 30 of you guys. Just don't let me go near a Chico-land in the week before the race, or indeed ever.

Glasgow to Edinburgh Double Marathon

The Serpie Army at the startThe Glasgow to Edinburgh ultra was yet another event that has popped up in the past few years to meet the growing demand for long distance running in the UK. Around 100 were registered for 55 miles of canal that joins Scotland two biggest cities. There was a huge Serpentine contingent present, 9 to run, 4 to cycle and later and later on about another 10 to come and sing Happy Birthday to me at the finish. I turned 30 the previous day and was looking forward to celebrate becoming an old man by doing what I love most, running along canals.

I was really pleased just to make it to the start line. 4 weeks ago I stubbed my toe at the Pilgrims Challenge and the whole thing inflamed and was very painful. I could not tell whether it was just badly bruised and inflamed or whether it was broken. Dr Google suggested icing and that even if it was broken there is nothing to be done apart from resting for 6 weeks. I was very worried about my birthday race not even starting but in the last week I could at least run (though I still could not walk properly on it). I had taken a day off work to go to A&E to get it checked out but that was the morning I found out I got into Badwater. I was too excited that I forgot. On Wednesday the toenail fell off and my foot has felt perfect ever since. It was such a relief, my plan was to hobble as much as possible until the pain got too much, now I could run the whole thing. Perfect.

The usual Ultra running pre race shenanigans were taking place. Jumping up and down, doing a few hill strints, strapping feet, queuing for the one toilet and taking "before" photos. Mark Braley was still in his corduroys. Jen Bradley decided to test some 12 hour lipstick and sported the shiniest red lips I have ever seen at the start of a 50 odd mile race. I wonder if running an ultramarathon is covered in the "reasonable use" caveat on the 12 hour guarantee? 

Two things are odd here. Firstly I am ahead of Claire and secondly, she appears to be smiling.I started out too fast, which is inevitable when you try to keep up with Claire Imrie and Nick Copas. Setting quite a fast pace for the first few miles and getting very warm. It was about 10 degrees C and I felt really warm, this does not bode well for when I have to run much further in 55 degrees. My body felt a bit creaky from not doing much running in the past month. I was gutted to have missed a few more races in Feb and a lot of commuting running but was just happy to be out there. I had suffered shin splits and sore ankles like a new runner for the past few runs as I tried to get back into it, none of that was a problem though I suspected that this one was going to hurt more than a 55 miler normally does.

There is often a silly debate as to how far an ultra should be before it can be called an ultra. The point is moot to me since the "marathon" distance itself is based on a combination of fiction and the laziness of our King to stand and watch the finish of a 25 mile race. 50 miles is often regarded as where ultras start proper, they become very different from 26.2 mile races at that point. Claire, Nick and Jen were running further than they had done before today. All were making pretty easy work of it.

The first checkpoint was at 13 miles which we covered in around 1.40. 4 years ago on my birthday I ran the Berkhamstead half marathon in about 1.45 which was a pb at that time. I love remembering these times when I was even slower than I am now. That was before I had even heard about ultras. I feel like such an idiot, wasting a Birthday on a half marathon. I was however feeling a bit hungry and sick. I needed food but there was none at the checkpoints. It was later pointed out to me that this was made clear in the instructions, I really should start reading those some time. With only energy drink I was in for a struggle as I usually do these things on solid food. 

The TunnelI have been reading a lot more of the sciency stuff about eating and hydration recently. Articles that kind of suck the fun our of running my saying nasty things like you shouldn't stuff your face full of pizza and chips the day before the race. I normally give such articles a miss and head to the chip shop. Since reading more about Badwater, hydration and renal failure I have decided that I need to be a bit more textbook about eating and drinking if I am to get through the tough summer I have planned. That didn't stop my huge consumption of pizza and chips the night before though, making the 10th biggest mistake here, and now I was feeling both sick, hungry and very sleepy. I would have killed a red bull.

After about 18 miles I let Claire and Nick steam on ahead. I was already starting to crash a bit and the prospect of finishing this in daylight seemed distant. I strolled into checkpoint 2 which was 24ish miles and briefly chatted to Graeme who was wearing a Fetch top. I didn't even ask his name, I just knew it because he said he was running the Western States 100 this year and I knew the name of the only Irish person on that roster. I said my name and he immediately shouted "Spartathlon". Funny how we all know each other through our races.

This checkpoint was next to Falkirk Wheel. There is a visitors centre next to this weird looking metal thing that cartwheels boats vertically for 30 meters. I had not seen many locks on the canal up until now and it seems here they just make do with one big massive lock rather than lots of small ones. I stopped for quite a while at this point and stretched as my groin was very tight. This is a recurring problem that I need to deal with and will do through yoga in the coming months. I was suprised to see Nick jump out of the visitors centre after I had stopped for so long but he looked like he was slowing down a bit too. I was happy to run with him for a bit while I took some photos of some interesting parts of the canal.

Soon after that checkpoint there was a long tunnel which made quite an eery running experience. It was very dark and the floor didn't appear to be all there. It was cobbled and wet all along as water would come gushing down from the ceiling but sometimes I'd think I was about to step into the canal. It lasted about half a mile as was oddly pleasant. 

The path was really good to run on and there were only a few puddled sections, road shoes were a good choice. I was a little disappointed by the lack of activity on the canal. There were very few boats and I only saw one actually moving. The Grand Union Canal "back home" is usually more alive with people on barges and pubs located on the waterfront. There weren't even any ducks or geese, not that I care about the latter. Maybe it's the recession, when times are hard the duck feeding is always the first to go.

Around 30 miles I had caught up with Nick who wanted to keep moving and left me behind to take photos. Mark Cockbain also jogged past me and also complained about the lack of food. It seems that the more ultras you do the less you read the instructions and sometimes it can be costly. I was still feeling quite weak and Nick told me that he was going to call it a day at the next checkpoint. It was sad to hear but had silver lining, he donated all of his food to me. He read the instructions and carried a load of cliff bars with him. I was more than happy to take them off him and stuffed one down like a fat man would who'd been stuck in a lift for 4 hours. The next checkpoint was at 34 miles. I was running for about a mile at a time and then stopping to stretch and empty my shoes. I had lots of stones in my shoes but could not get rid of the uncomfortable feeling on my feet. It turns out I was going to be visited by some old friends again.

Falkirk WheelAt the third checkpoint I sat down for a while again and stretched. It was here I met Phil Owen who was looking out for some runners behind me. It was nice to chat and talk about some other races coming up. I felt a bit better for having eaten something and was ready to get moving again. I carried on with the intention of running for a couple of miles or so and then stretching. Until this point I was being a slave to my garmin, or rather it was reminding me of just how much slower I was getting. I had the display set on average pace which crept up from 7.40 early on in the race and was now heading towards 9. I knew I was now going much slower than that and was getting a bit frustrated with it going up all the time so I solved the problem the easiest way, I just switched it off. I felt a weight off as now all that was displayed was distance and the time of day. I was now only determined to finish not long after 6 so that I can get in before dark. I'm going to stop bothering with the garmin, it just spoils a good run, and writing about it makes for fucking boring reading. 

I hit 40 miles feeling so much better than at 30. I felt in good form again and could run without feeling the need to stop much. There was no way I could fail to finish my Birthday race and I knew that it was only a matter of time before I would feel better again. 20 miles is a long time to feel shit though. Still, I was just happy that I could even do the race and made quicker progress. Not long after the 4th checkpoint and a conversation with a random jogger about the highland fling which he and I are doing I was caught up by Jen Bradley. I was in two minds about whether to wait and run with her or carry on while I was on a roll. I decided to carry on, I had not stopped for about 8 miles and was hoping to keep it that way. I was curious about whether the lipstick was still working. Nice Canal

50 miles seemed to pass in no time and there were signs that I was heading into Edinburgh. I (think) I could see the castle and some buildings in the distance. I could also see more objects in the canal, such as a pink baby push cart thing. The people of Edinburgh obviously have too much and need to throw these things away. I also saw the start of the city's night life as the under age kids started assuming their drinking positions along the benches of the now tarmacked canal path. It was just before sunset and it was time to get the race finished.

I finished in 8.52, about an hour slower than I was hoping for but pleased for being able to run at all. 3 weeks off certainly makes you appreciate it more when your are running and the last 15 miles of today. Jen finished just behind me with lipstick and mascara in perfect condition. Diane was not far behind and managed to not even get lost once, amazing stuff. Ian, Claire, Oli and Mark C had been at the finish quite a while. Long enough to get stuck into the Guinness in the pub right at the end.

Overall I was pleased with how the race went. I had a rough patch in the middle third but managed to get through it and did much better than I feared at the beginning of the week when I was still not able to walk properly. I was really pleased to see so many people up there singing happy birthday as I finished. Thanks to all who showed up.

Some cups of piss

From overhydrated to dehydrated to anuric (no urine production) with a couple shades indicating hematuria (blood in urine) and rhabdomyolysis (myglobin from muscle breakdown in urine). Not to be confused with water, Gatorade, apple juice, Hawaian Punch or Coca Cola.

Extreme running and yet more for the list

I have just finished reading "Extreme Running". Actually there are not too many words in there but a lot of pretty pictures of amazing planet earth. Barren deserts with martian surfaces. Miles and miles of Arctic wilderness and beautiful jagged mountains. Jungles with wildlife and the worlds deepest caves make for some really spectacular photos except they are spoiled a bit by the presence of a sweaty human covered in gear and running number and an expression that suggests he is not enjoying the scenery as much as I am while sat on my sofa.

The book covers 24 of the worlds extreme races that are difficult in a variety of ways. There are a few marathons in there such as the Pikes Peak Marathon which is the venue of this years world mountain long distance championships this year, a simple sounding "up and down" marathon that involves running up to a sickly altitude. The Inca Trail and Everest Marathons also get a mention, the latter involving a 7 day trek to the starting line. The Lake Baikal Marathon also looked appealing, 26 miles across a frozen Russian lake where 20% of the earth's fresh water resides. 

Many of the well know events are in there. The "must do" Marathon Des Sables gets more pages that I would give it, UTMB, Transalpine Run, Yukon Ultra and the Gobi March get good coverage, The Kepler Challenge is in there to remind us that New Zealand still exists and of course the obligatory Comrades Marathon gets a mention. 

There were a few that were already on my list and consolidated their place such as the Trans 333 - a non-stop 333km run through a different desert each year with only checkpoints at every 20k and navigation involved. Also the infamous Jungle Marathon gets a large spread, the only race I know of that actually sounds dangerous beyond the competitors control with the scorpions, jaguars and piranhas. The Atacama Crossing is now a must do for me, the scenery looks like it does not belong on this planet and the high altitude and dryness make it sound like a really challenging multi-day event. I think I will do many more multi-days in 2011. 

A few more I had not heard of have been added to my must dos. The Verdon Canyon Challenge sounds like an amazing run with enormous elevation along ridges and caves in southern France. When I become very rich (or someone is willing to pay me to do races) I will also run the Antarctic Ice Marathon and 100k (yes both on the same trip). 

I have only done 2 of the races so far, the MDS and the Spartathlon, which gets a brief mention and says little more than it being a very difficult race that not a lot of starters finish. 

It includes a wide variety of races of different extremities and different levels of difficulty. Any ultra-runner would have come up with a different 24 based on the same brief. The only US 100 miler that gets in is the Wasatch 100 miler, the last race in the "Grand Slam" that includes the Western States 100, Vermont and Leadville - the "race across the sky". Any of these and the Hardrock 100 would have merited inclusion too. 

Perhaps the most lavish spread for a race is for the one I have to do in 4 months time. A huge deal is made of the conditions and others experience of the Badwater race. I read the words over and over as it breaks this race into the 4 parts, the 40 mile flat cauldron, the first pass, the second pass and long descent and then the final push to the Whitney portal. Very useful and something for me to think about as I prepare for this race as well as this paragraph which I can't get out of my head.

"The truth is that the human body is not designed to run in 55C temperatures. By the time the atmosphere reaches 35C the body will lose it's capacity to release heat into the air. Activity accelerates this process. The maximum core temperature measured in a conscious long distance  runner has been 41C. At 42.7 body temperature the runner will collapse. At this stage, the body has begun to pump blood out of the body's outermost layers in an effort to radiate heat. In the meantime, the internal organs are thus deprived of their blood supply, and the thermoregulatory system starts to shut down. The first physical sign of this process is when, despite the searing heat and apparent full hydration, the body simply ceases to sweat. From that stage, if the body goes untreated, serious inflammation and cell damage may ensure and affect the central nervous system. At that point, death can be sudden. 

Perhaps I should have just looked at the pictures.

Badwater - I'm IN

I stayed up till about 2am last night waiting for an email. I was like some loved up teenager waiting for a call. I guess with this kind of thing I am still a teenager, I don't really have the experience. In the few hours of sleep I got last night I had a strange dream that I got to the start late because my flight was delayed. I did not miss the start but I arrived 2 hours early having already been awake for more than 24 hours. Not the best preparation for a race like this though I suspect that I won't sleep that much in the days leading up to it.

Around 7am I woke up and picked up my phone. An email from "Badwater Race Office" that started with the word "Congratulations!" made me feel a bit sick. I thought about catching up on the sleep that I had missed (I took a day off work today) but I clearly was not going to get back to sleep. Plus there was some urgency to the email. I have a week to sign and send forms, pay for the race and book hotels. I don't really like having to move quickly, which is why I enter these races.

There was a competitive element to getting into this race in the first place. I like to avoid competing against others but in this case I had to just to get to the start line. I only had my past ultra running experiences to put on the form and I had no idea whether this was enough. I read into the reasons why runners get turned away and worried. Not that there was anything I could have done about it. Part of the battle of the big and hard ultras nowadays is getting onto the start line.

• In preparing your application, keep in mind the standard reasons that generally lead to some applicants not being invited:
  • The applicant only just met the minimum standards.
  • The applicant’s credentials are only recent, i.e., not a seasoned ultra endurance athlete with a breadth of experience.
  • The applicant’s credentials are only old, i.e. all or most of the credentials are from too long ago and may not reflect current ability.
  • The applicant has no experience in extreme heat or on the Badwater course as a pacer.
  • The applicant didn't "prove" his or her claims (i.e., they said they paced at Badwater, but no letter of recommendation was received, or they claimed they finished or won any number of major races, but didn't provide any proof of that).
  • The applicant submitted a “thin” application - not only few qualifications were listed, but not much time was put into the preparation of the application itself. (Sometimes the applicant assumed "we've already heard of him/her" and therefore didn't provide the necessary details. Applicants should never assume we’ve heard of them or have heard of the events they mention in their application.)
  • There are always A LOT of applicants, all "qualified," and thus some applicants must inevitably be turned away.

I worried about my experience only being recent, and the lack of heat experience.

I discovered that Mark Wooley had made it in too, as did a couple of other Brits I have made email contact with. 

My sick feeling has given way to a nervous excitement. I have a LOT of work to do, planning a crew, flights and hotels. And of course the training. I can't do that today as my toe is still (probably not) broken. I also have to sign a form that says this;

I will be sufficiently trained, prepared, and medically fit to compete in the event. I understand that the extreme conditions in this race, including but not limited to temperatures in excess of 130F, wind, dust, high altitude, and radiant surface temperatures in excess of 180F, make the risk of dehydration, altitude sickness, significant skin damage, blistering, heat exhaustion, heat stroke, traffic accident, renal shutdown, brain damage, and death are possible.

 

I'll be ready.

This was what I put in the application form.

Why do you want to run the Badwater Ultramarathon?

It was hearing about this race 4 years ago that got me into ultra running. I have been thinking about this race since I first got sent a link to it what seems like an age ago. I was still a young runner who was concerned with plotting my next attempt to run 26.2 miles on a flat road in a temperate climate faster than I had done previously. I did this successfully a few times and the satisfaction was small and short lived. Getting marathon PB's and not really caring about them made me wonder whether I was in the right sport. The variety and challenges of ultra-running answered that question unequivocally. Ultra-running has liberated me from judging my running on what a man at the end with a stop-watch might say. I no longer let that guy decide whether I've had a good run or not, I do it myself. Ultra-running has put the fun back into the thing that I love and has given me personal experiences that I would not trade for the world. And like I said, it was this race that inspired the start of that journey.

The last three years have been an amazing journey, from my first ultra (45 miles in 2007) through to the Grand Union Canal Race (145 miles in 2008) and more recently the Spartathlon last year. What I love most about these races (though it usually is some time after when I fully appreciate it) is the way they try to break you down and stop you finishing. Whether it is the mountains and hills, the sun or the rain or just the sheer distance of it there is always something there that is trying to stop you getting to the finish. The greatest of victories is when you are smashed to pieces and on the floor in a race and it seems all but over. Then you hold onto yourself just enough to carry on moving. When you do things seem a little easier and you remember more why you are there in the first place. These are the experiences I want to take to the grave with me.

I have written about my running in my blog for the past 3 years. I write more to preserve the memories than for anyone else but hope that you get a chance to read it.

So back to the original question in why I want to run Badwater. Aside from my 4 year obsession mentioned above I feel that this is the only "step up" for me. Having finished the Spartathlon last year I don't believe there are many more races out there that are harder to finish and hence will give me those physical and emotional breakdowns which I crave.

I am now confident that I will finish this race but am fully aware of the fact that it will take more that I have had to give before. Races like the GUCR and Spartathlon have taught me that I can rely on things that I don't even know I have at the start line. I love starting a race feeling "ready" but not entirely sure how I'm going to get through it.

People keep asking me "how will you train for something like that". Fact is I don't know. I know I can run for 40+ hours, I know I can run well over 100 miles in one go, into night and day and night and through pain. However I'm not entirely sure, after 35 miles of Death Valley when my body and brain are fried from the heat and I am struggling to remember who I am and why I am stood at the side of a molten road with 100 miles to go, how I will deal with that. But I know I'll think of something.

Spartathlon 2009 Video

Blimey this brings back some memories. I forgot how hard it rained and I forgot how dark it was in places. I also forgot just how many people there were lying down in the medic tent. Brought back memories that make me want to go back right now. 

Part 1/4. I had to do all sorts of interweb trickery to get this onto the blog but here it is. In 4 parts. I can be seen at around 8.27 with my silly hat on running into a checkpoint. 

 Part 2/4 . I am around 5.30 walking into the checkpoint at Corinth.

Sparta 2/4
Uploaded by jamesradams. - More professional, college and classic sports videos.

Part 3/4 I am around 5 minutes in, sat down. BEWARE OF THE CHAIR.

Part 4/4

The Pilgrims Challenge

The signs were not always this easy to spot.After the huge success of the Druid Challenge last November I was really looking forward to the Pilgrims Challenge. The organisers XNRG popped up on the race organising scene a little while ago and have immediately won plaudits for great organisation and value for money. I think that it's great to have such a variety of things to chose from nowadays (I wish I could have also run the Thames Trot 50 miler but that was on the same day) and that there are guys out there willing to put themselves on the line to stage such events.

The format was simple. We start in Farnam and run 33 miles along the North Downs way until we get to Mertsam. Then on the second day we run back. 66 miles of hilly mud over 2 days, seems like a very British thing to do.

1st Claire - I had to run up a hill to get that photo, I was knackered.

I was pleased with how many Serpies turned out for this and are doing so in greater numbers for all events like this. We are starting to take over these things.

The start was from a farm just outside Farnham. There were 3 waves, walkers, runners and super super fast runners. I started with the latter only because I wanted an extra hour in bed.

The first few meters involved a section where we were up to our knees in water and mud. There was no real way of avoiding it so right from the start we had soaking wet feet. At least it wasn't as cold as the Country to Capital. 

I ran with a group of about 6 who were sort of "middle pack" of the fast runners. I felt good and the trails were great to run on. There was quite a bit of mud in places but most of it was the glorious trail that I love to run on in the UK. The first 20 miles or so were fairly easy, with a few hills bit nothing of note. There were a lot of downhill sections that we knew we'd have to come back up the next day. 

The great thing about staggered starts (aside from the extra sleep you get if you can go faster) is that you are always catching up with people along the way. Events such as this were designed and used for those who are training for the Marathon Des Sables later this year. I think it's great that all the Brits train for the MDS by running miles and miles in the mud in the cold. It works though, better than all the gimmicky things you can do like heat chamber training. What most people struggle with at the MDS is the distance, running this kind of thing certainly helps with that.

I had managed to avoid any schoolboy errors in races so far this year and was pleased with the effects of losing a little weight (around 4kg in Jan) as I felt the hills easier than 3 weeks ago. I did however forget to cut my toenails and only remember when I kicked a tree root and the nail went right in my foot. Fortunately most of the proper running had been done in the first 20 miles, then came the bastard hills.

I was surprised to see the Picnic steps in this race (I don't know why). I have run up and down these 8 times before in 2 races but somehow they feel harder each time. What follows are more hills and then a really long hill which I recognise but can't for the life of me remember from what. I started to struggle breathing up some of them and have only recently started to use my inhaler on hilly runs. It does help to expand my lungs when working hard but I always use it too late. The sun came out and I still was enjoying the run but was finding it hard work. After what seemed like endless uphills I arrived alone at the last checkpoint (having lost Claire and the group at the steps) and was told that it was all down hill from there and only about 4 miles. 

Oli and his clothes

The 4 miles went quite quickly via a conversation with a chap as to whether I was still on the North Downs way or not. I never really got lost but I did spend a lot of time stood still and scratching my head trying to decide which way was best. We were told as a rule of thumb to always go straight on and keep the hills on our left. Not so easy to decide when you are up them.

The finish was at an all Boys School in Mertsam. I was glad I didn't have to ask for directions to a boys school while looking quite worse for wear, the markings were very good. On finishing I met up with those who had finished before me (Oli, Claire I, Claire S, Allan) and had some coffee while I waited for the rest to come in. There is a nice warm atmosphere in between runs at these kind of events. Everyone makes their way into the sports hall and does their own thing. Many just sit down and drink tea, others head straight for the showers. Some take advantage of the massage services which I always try to do but didn't this time, some start contorting themselves into odd shapes to iron out all the damage from the day. Most of us were just keen to get into the pub, I was anyway. We faffed around a bit and headed over back through the streets we finished in and to a nice pub called "The Feathers". A few pints of Guinness are as good as any recovery drink.

The experience of sleeping in a sports hall is relative. If you are used to nice hotels and B&B's before and after each race then you are probably going to find it hard. If however you are a veteran of multi-day races then a flat surface indoors compares favourably to a tent or bivouac where you are sometimes freezing and sometimes roasting in your sleeping bag. Ear plugs are a must in these situations. There are people who snore like tractors and people will always get up all night to go to the toilet, and stomp like elephants as they do so. I was a bit worried about Claire Shelley, she had had 2 pints of coke and was bouncing off the walls. I zipped my sleeping bag up to my neck...

I slept quite well and was reminded in the morning that I snored (I am certain I don't). There were 3 starts again, the latest at 9 for those in the top 25 from yesterday of which I, Claire I, Claire S and Oli were part of. We ate breakfast as provided by the organisers and then messed around for a couple of hours while everyone else had started running. I demonstrated how bad I am at basketball while everyone had left the hall and then started to get ready. My toe was still hurting a lot and it was a struggle to put my shoes on. Everyone else was doing their own preparation. Oli was putting on his womens clothing and eating flapjack, Claire I was filing her nails and Claire S was putting on face cream. Apparently a girl has to look her best when wading through the mud. I couldn't imagine either of them pulling along the way, not at the bloody speed they go at anyway.

At the start only about 12 of the 25 were there, most had snuck into an earlier start. We all marched off and my legs felt quite good, it was just my feet that were hurting and I was not really looking forward to a day of running flat footed.

2nd Claire. I had to tell her to stop bouncing for a second while I took the photo.

The first 15 miles or so I ran with Claire S and Allan, the latter being a veteran of this kind of thing but the former making her first attempt at it. I have been amazed in the last couple of months how so many people have just dived right into the ultra scene. When I started 3 years ago I hesitantly stepped in and did one in January and then not another one till June. Now the approach seems to be "I'll do my first this week and then another next week, or better still - tomorrow". I have been really impressed with how at least half a dozen people I know have done this and it makes me feel a bit soft for being a bit cautious in my early days. Luckily I have outgrown such cautionary behaviour and these people have helped inspired me to think that doing Badwater, UTMB and Spartathlon within 10 weeks of each other could (and should) be done. 

Claire was bouncing like Tigger for the entire 33 miles, looking really happy but saying she was tired. She did not look it at all. The other Claire was long gone. It was slightly less muddy than the previous day, the long downhills didn't really seem as long as they were up hill. I managed not to fall over though. The checkpoints were in different places and were more welcome than yesterday, I really gorged on them, eating the sausages, sausage rolls and lumps of cheese. 

As I was running slower there was more time to chat to Claire and others in the race. There was a guy who from behind looked like Cyril and we yelled at him only to realise that it was not him but someone else training for the MDS. We chatted to him anyway and continued to call him Cyril. 

You have no idea how hard it was to get back up from that. I could have just slept.

The second half of the day felt quite hard as I just felt quite tired. Walking became too easy and it was Claire who was pulling me along, bouncing off into the distance. We got lost about 8 miles from the end and ran uphill into a village and then back down again and saw an obvious sign for the NDW that we missed. It didn't feel like too long till we were back running through the sludge next to the golf course that we started near. I don't normally look forward to sludge but it was quite welcome as it signalled the end. By the time I finished everyone I knew was already there drinking tea. There were great performances all round, Oli winning by miles, Claire I winning for the girls and Claire S coming second. Serpies are starting to take over this kind of thing in the results too. I am very pleased to see it, anything to prevent them obsessing about boring road races.

It proved to be another great success for Neil and the guys at XNRG. Everyone had a great run, Cyril put yet more miles into his legs for the MDS as looks a different man from the one I met 3 months earlier on the Druid Challenge. Jo Proudlove and Toby Melville had great performances (Toby running 54020 steps on Saturday and only 54010 on Sunday, maybe that was one less piss?). Dan De Belder also finished both days in good shape. 

I was looking forward to the pub afterwards but the offer of a lift home from Dan Ashfar (who was 2nd I think) was too good to turn down. I was looking forward to getting off my feet and eating a lot of meat. 

 Worlds sexiest man competition. Guess who won?

Ultra Running - Stuff that has helped me

I have added to this stuff and it is here.

Mental (and a few practical) tips for running ultras.

This list is growing all the time. Every time I learn something new or think of a new way to describe something. There is little in here about training or nutrition, it is just a list of things that I have used to help me through some tough races and have used some examples of my own experiences to illustrate. It is in no particular order and there maybe some repeats and overlaps. Any comments or more suggestions are most welcome.

• DON'T PANIC
• Try not to extrapolate, i.e. thinking "I feel this bad after X miles so I'm going to feel this more worse after Y miles". Long distance running is a roller coaster of ups and downs and the longer you go the bigger the ups and the bigger the downs. You may feel shit now but your body is an amazing thing and a combination of positive thinking, progress and all the chemicals your body will produce may mean you feel ecstatic a few miles later. My first GUCR I could barely walk just after before 100 miles. Later on I ran miles 120-130 like I was gunning a 10k. I can't really explain it but I knowing it could happen helps me through the rough patches. I had a similar experience in the Spartathlon 2010. The first 50 miles I ran 1 hour slower than last year but felt twice as bad? I was a little concerned as I had 100+ miles to go, feeling shitter than last year and 1 hour less to do it. Hoever the next 80 miles (yes EIGHTY miles) just seemed to fly by, I was cruising. It's important to remember these times as I know I am going to need them in the future. You won't just hit one wall in long ultras, you hit several. But the more you break down the better it feels at the end (and for a long time afterwards).
• Don't take every little set back personally. When you are exhausted it is common to feel paranoid that things are happening because the world is conspiring against you. If a gate is stuck or a stile is wonky or a dog gets in your way. These things will happen and it is important to just shrug or even laugh them off. In the MDS while I was close to collapse and walking over the rocky terrain I kept tripping on the rocks. At some point I got so angry I picked up one of the offending rocks, shouted at it and threw it away. Anger like this is counter-productive. Remember "Mind like Water" - How does the water react when you throw a stone in? With an exactly proportional response to the size of the stone, soon all evidence is gone. Don't make a tidal wave over a little stone.
• Similarly, celebrate a little when these little things go right. Like when someone holds a gate open for you or people spot you and get out of the way, or when a part of the path is not muddy or when the sun goes behind a cloud on a hot day. The more reasons you find to smile the more you will smile and the better you will feel.
• EAT. In my experience the biggest reason for dropping out of ultras because of not eating. It really doesn't matter (within reason) what you eat just make sure you eat. 
• On the subject of food I find that eating more "normal" food is beneficial. I will load on mashed potato and pork chops with gravy. During a run I will eat cake, crisps, biscuits, sweets, sausage rolls, sandwiches, pepparamis and even a Subway. Eat whatever the hell you like, JUST EAT.
• Derive pleasure from eating. Worrying about absorption rates and so on if for those who are right at the front. Take food with you that you know you'll look forward to eating and reward yourself with it whenever you need it. I think one of the key reasons why I've managed to finish some tough races is because of my ability to eat in any circumstance. A trait which leads to weight gain when I am not running.
• 100 miles is a long long way. I don't believe anyone can really get their head around how far that is to run, not even the world class runners who win those kinds of things. Don't panic if it all feels a bit big and overwhelming, it fells big and overwhelming because it IS big and overwhelming. Everyone else feels the same.
• No one is going to judge you for squatting in the bushes. If you need to go then go, don't suffer too long holding it in. Everyone does it.
• Try not to stress about the distance that you are covering or what your garmin may be saying. Particularly the really long runs. Sometimes you feel like you have run for miles yet you have barely covered one, sometimes your view of time is distorted by the tiredness, sometimes the distances advertised in the race are wrong. 
• BEWARE OF THE CHAIR - The most common warning I see in the really long ultras. Don't sit down at the checkpoints if you can avoid it, you get cold, stiff and sleepy. It can be a real effort to get up and waste energy (not to mention time) getting going again, time and energy you could have spent doing another mile. I sat in a lot of chairs in the GUCR and Spartathlon, believe me you never feel rested more for sitting in a chair for 10 minutes.
• Organise fresh clothes if at all possible. They feel great when put on and the smell of freshly laundered clothes can be uplifting when you have spent hours smelling of sweat, piss and dirt.
• Try to pay attention to your running form at regular intervals. I used to use mile markers in marathons to remind me to check that my head is up and shoulders relaxed etc. Perhaps do it every half an hour or so or every time you see a bridge or regular feature.
• Be respectful to other runners feelings. There will be times when you overtake another who looks a mess, try not to look too smug or comfortable as you do. No one likes getting flown past by a runner who looks like they are not even making an effort. It's funny how you can occupy the same part of space and time yet be in completely different places.
• Similarly don't contaminate someone else's race with your own suffering. When you are on a roll you don't want to hear someone moaning about how bad their race is going. Remember you could be having the worst race of your life but be right next to someone who is having their best.
• Geese are the spawn of the devil. Don't go near them especially in spring when they have young. 
• Think OUTSIDE of yourself. When going through a rough patch then stop thinking in the 1st person and start thinking in the 3rd. Imagine that you are one of your friends and talking about your race as they see it. Say only nice things obviously
• Play games with the above. When I thought I was going to die in the desert I decided to stage my own funeral in my head, imagining who would turn up and what they would say. Who would get the most pissed? Who would miss you the most. Starting writing your biography (sic) or the speech given about you when you win the Nobel Prize for Ultrarunning. Remember, keep it all in the third person. Go nuts, go on a complete ego trip. No one will ever find out what you dreamed up, if it gets you through then who cares? 
• Ignore the cancerous voices that may pop into your head that may talk of disappointment. I get this sometimes, the frowning of letting someone down. You are only doing this for yourself.
• Think back to times when you were suffering as much as you may be now and remember how you got through them. Key moments like this for me were; Jurassic Coast challenge in 2008 - on the third day I could barely walk before the start but managed to run the hilly 30 miles of that day, Rotherham 2008 - The weather was Baltic, everyone around me was suffering from hypothermia and the checkpoints were indoors. It was the hardest thing in the world stepping out of those checkpoints and into the rain. I knew that in 5 minutes time it would be fine again. 
• SUPPORTERS BEWARE - of asking too many questions. A question is a request for information from someone's head, when that head feels tired and battered a question can feel like someone delving their hand into their brain and pulling things out. You wouldn't want that done to you would you?
• Also, think back to the times when you were not nearly the runner you are now. Everyone started somewhere, perhaps a 4 mile run on a treadmill seemed like an effort a few years back. Keep in mind just how far you have come over the years. I remember when 4 miles on a treadmill would make me weak at the knees, I remember the fear of my first marathon. In Greece I passed the marathon stage of the Spartathlon in 3.47, that was my marathon pb in Berlin just 4 years earlier. The glowing feeling of progress propelled me all the way to 50 miles
• Don't freak out when you hallucinate. It is normal for the brain when tired to see things that are not there. Your brain "sees" not by seeing everything but by looking at only a small area and "filling in" the rest itself. It's how optical illusions work. It is easy for the tired brain to "fill in" your surroundings wrongly, like when I thought a pile of branches were a giraffe or some flowers in the dark were actually small faces with hats or when I thought the canal by night was a huge quarry.
• And don't worry too much about the King of the Mushroom people. He ain't that tough.
• My marathon PB is still from a race I did the day after a 24 mile fell race. The point here being that sometimes things just don't make any sense.
• DRINK lots and drink early. If you don't drink early you will reach a point where you can't catch up. Don't be fooled into thinking that you don't need water on the cold days.
• Beware of the dangers of over-thinking. You are a long distance runner and hence are likely to be much brighter than the population at large. Hopefully this has worked out well for you in other aspects of your life but it could actually work against you here. Relying on your brain too much can be hazardous. You have probably heard the old cliché of "it's all in the mind" a million times and this has a lot of truth in it, however relying on your brain to make calculations and objective decisions can be futile sometimes. Don't waste considerable energy thinking too much, try to switch off.  Forrest Gump never looked in trouble did he?
• Many people will never understand why you would do a thing like this. Don't waste too much effort trying to explain what they will never understand, even in your head. I will never understand why people sit in their living rooms and get excited by z-list celebrities cooking for other z-list celebrities. I admit that I make absolutely no effort trying to discover why this is exciting to them.
• BE NICE to the marshals and the organisers. It can't be much fun standing in the rain for hours only to get abused by a grumpy sweaty beast as he starts crying that there are not enough green jelly babies at the checkpoint. Also, give some slack to the race organisers. I think it's great how many people out there are willing to put themselves on the line and organise these events. They have made my life so much better over the years. Organisers and race directors will make mistakes too, don't beat them up about it. 
• Do not underestimate the slow sapping power that the sun has. I got spanked on both days of the GUCR last year and really suffered. Wear a good hat and sun cream, have some on you if you are doing a very long run. If you are run/walking then run in the sun and walk in the shade, spending as little time as possible exposed and giving you longer to recover where it's cool.
• When you get really tired concentrate on moving forward rather than your exact position and distance. Ineviably you will slow down but the effort seems the same so t can get frustrating when you feel like you are not moving as fast as you think you are. Then the paranoia kicks in; "The distance markers are wrong", "The course is long", "I'm lost" etc etc. My first GUCR I thought I was at the 100 mile stage and only when I ran on another half a mile I realised that I was only then at 100 miles. What was half a mile out of 145? Well at the time it was massive and started me on a downward spiral that nearly cost me a finish.
• Learn to love the 30 minute mile for you may meet a lot of these. It is still a mile just like any other.
• Don't waste too much energy avoiding water and mud in the wet times. If it rains you are going to get wet, accept in, embrace it, love it.
• If you are being supported remember that your support crews are learning too and may make mistakes. Remember that the fact they are here with you means 
• Write about your experiences, if only for yourself. I love reading back about races I've almost forgotten. I love looking back at how different I was when I started out running distance, when a marathon would terrify me. Put it on a blog and allow others to learn about what you have done, it does not matter if only your Mum reads it.
• Planning isn't for everyone. You'll get told by any running magazine you pick up (which I recently heard described as cooking mags with porn on the front) that planning is the key to success and those that do not plan are consigned to failure. This simply isn't so. I am not saying you should not try and think ahead but too much worrying about every detail in advanced can be counter-productive. There are a million things that can happen, you are much better just accepting that stuff is going to happen and you'll have to deal with it. Worrying is another symptom of the high IQ's that runners suffer, switch it off, think like Gump.
• Having a phone with a list of numbers you can send updates to can help. The return messages can be uplifting.
• PROTECT YOUR HEAD. Sun hat when it's hot, fleecy hat when it's cold, hood when it rains. Your head will be going through enough without you beating it up more with the elements.
• For some reason I find miles 16-22 quite hard in any race, marathon or 150 miles. I don't know why but I've learnt to ignore it.
• Take on PROTEIN. Not normally required for shorter races but it is needed for long distance. 
• When you are scrambling along some trail in the middle of the night, soaking wet, cold, exhausted and in need of sleep think of those people sat at home by a warm fire, watching TV and eating pizza. You may think you are suffering but they are suffering even more, the advantage you have is that at least you know it. 
• There are experiences that make us who we are and how we behave. Falling off bikes, having our hearts broken or losing a job, they have all made you what you are. DNFing is just the same, it hurts like hell, it WILL happen at some stage and will make you feel small and worthless. Take it on the chin and learn from it for it will make you stronger. Remember DNF beats DNS.
• Realistically there is a point where the sensible thing is to drop out. It depends on how far you have to go, how bad a shape you are in and how much the race means to you. "Finishing at any cost" is a silly thing to say if the "cost" is that you can't walk for 6 months. Similarly a race may mean so much that you are willing to rule yourself out of action for a few weeks just to get to the finish. This all gets blurred in the long and drawn out mess of an ultra. Be careful, but don't sell yourself short, the worst thing is sitting around the next day thinking "you know what? I could have finished that".
• Don't compare yourself to others in terms of time/volume etc. You will meet all sorts of people at these events all with different backgrounds, different motivations and different levels of ability. Some will have not been running for long and maybe have families and are short on time to do running. Others may have been running for years and get all the time in the world to train. Some are here to win, most are here to finish and enjoy. Have your own measures of success that are completely independent of the performance of others.
• Think of the stories you'll tell. There is nothing more boring than listening to someone saying "I entered a race, trained really hard and then got a pb, then I entered another race, trained really hard and got a pb, then I entered another race and I trained really hard and I ... *SLAP*". Remember that you are creating your own stories as you go. The more stuff that is going wrong and the harder you find it the more captivating your story will be in the pub. Try and remember everything so that you can re-tell it when you are nice and dry and warm and full of food with your feet up. Others will appreciate it.
• One of the most important things I have learned is that my mind can become useless at any objective thought or decision making. It is hard for someone to admit that they are mentally losing control but it does happen and can be hazardous if you try to "think" your way out of it. This is the point to go with what "feels" right. To quote Homer Simpson - "Shut up brain before I stab you with an ice-pick".
  Sometimes it's the right decision to "Give Up".
• I spend a lot of my time in races thinking about even longer and harder races that I want to do. It sounds like a bad idea to be taking yourself into an even harder place when you really should be thinking about fluffy kittens and pillows and candy floss but it seems to get me through it. I spent most of my time in my first ultras thinking about finishing the GUCR. I spent a lot of my time in least years GUCR thinking about the Spartathlon. I spent some of my time in the Spartathlon thinking about Badwater. I don't know. Perhaps the point here is to always have a "next step" to think about.
• BEWARE of how addictive this all is. I entered my first ultra with the intention of doing more but never thought I'd be looking to do them every week. It takes over, you are always looking for different things to do. Longer, hillier, hotter, more navigation, less sleep or whatever.
• Imagine a life where every race you did went to plan, where every race was a PB. Where everyone you loved loved you back, where every job you applied for you got, where your football team win every game and the sun always shines. Every test is an A+ and you never once got the flu. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Really? No. I'd kill myself. That would be a miserable existence. The best life experiences are when everything fucks up, when everything falls to pieces but you just about manage to hold onto yourself enough to get through it. 
• The crippling lows and euphoric highs are why I do this. You have to go a long way to feel at your lowest but in the same race and after that you can feel the greatest you ever have. Every low point you have you can use as a learning experience, a reference point to help you deal with it when it happens again
• As I grow old I'll forget things. I'll forget the least important things first, like what my pin number is or the name of my grand-daughters boyfriend, I'll then forget the unimportant things like how fast I could ever run 26.2 miles on a road or how I felt when running some 80% wava race or whatever. But I'll never forget the time I was running through the Canadian forests when 3 hours elapsed in 10 minutes because I was having so much fun. I'll never forget the top of that sand dune in the night in the Sahara when I looked around and could see nothing but stars, that moment I was the only person on Earth. I'll never forget staggering through a crowded street in Sparta to the adulation of runners and people of the town who had no idea who I was but know what I did. And the last thing I'll forget will be the turnaround I enjoyed in my first GUCR, I went from crawling to running, then from running to running quite fast. Then from running quite fast to being all of a sudden overwhelmed and having to hold onto some railings while I burst into tears. I thought at the time that the emotion was due to me realising that I was going to finish the race, but it was more than that. It was the moment in my life where I realised that I could finish anything. Anything is what I intend to do.

Badwater - Application

I am having a period of procrastination before applying for the race I've been thinking about for 5 years. I heard about this before I ran my first ultra and aspired to run it in 5 years. Now it is within reach, the application form is on my screen right now. It's kind of like being young when you really fancied a girl for ages but you didn't do anything about it in case she said no and you look like a twat. Then, in a moment of haste and (possible alco-pop inspired) bravery you pluck up the courage to do the deed and then you panic momentarily as you consider "what if she says yes?"

The Badwater application forms came out on the 1st Feb. I have printed it off and looked through the questions. Most of my answers are "no - not done anything like that". There is a question asking me for my shoe size, not sure why. Perhaps they are obliged to fully represent people of all shoe sizes? Sillier things have happened.

Having known my chances in the other 2 lotteries I have entered recently, Western States was about a 20% chance and UTMB about 75% I really have no idea what my chances are here. The application process is more like a job interview with CV's and an assessment committee. I know that there are 40 places for "rookies" - those that have not run Badwater before and a further 40 for "veterans". It is never revealed how many apply for each of the positions and there is no lottery, each application is judged on it's individual merits. I have no idea what my chances are;

The form makes for intimidating reading. Once I confirm my name, nationality, shoes size, shirt size and confirm that I can speak English it gets straight into the detail. 

• How many continuous races of 50-99 miles have you run? 3
• How many continuous races of 100+ miles have you run? 3
• How many times have you completed the Badwater ultra? 0
• How many times have you crewed at Badwater? 0 

It then asks for a predicted race time and then evidence to support this prediction. It is really like an appraisal or a job interview.

It then suggests "other stuff" you may have done which does not count towards qualification but that you may want to add to support your application. This is like getting marks for showing your working out in an exam, even if you don't have the right answer you can get some sympathy points. Some suggestions for what counts as scribbles are "multiple" multi-days in one year (so one MDS is not enough), 500 mile cycle races, double, triple Ironman or further, the grand slam (6 really tough 100 mile races in the US within 3 months of each other). 

Reading the whole form leaves me feeling a bit inadequate. I have the minimum qualifying races (2 100 milers) but then so do many more people who I know will be applying for this race. I know I'll be up against people who have been running ultras since before I was doing cross country at school. My 3 races may well get my application on the table, but how far it goes depends on others. 

"Why do you want to run Badwater"? is a question I'm going to have to give a lot of thought to, since it may be my only chance of competing against the other entries. It seems strange that I should feel competitive about getting into a race. If they let me get to the start line then all thought of competition will depart and I can do what I love doing again, running my own race.

Running 365 - Jan

 302.47 miles ran in 43 hours 53 minutes. 31 days of running. Started off with a nasty cough and didn't get out as much as I would have liked but managed my third highest month ever. I plan to run about 4000 miles this year so need to get out even more.

Ealing Common at 7am

 I can't figure out how to get a table to look good in this blog. Sorry. 

	A	B	C	D	E
1	Jan 2010	Dist	Time	Pace	Notes
2	Sun 31 10pm	7	50:00:00	7:09:00
3	Sat 30 10pm	3.5	30:00:00	8:34:00	Icy off road run in the cotswolds
4	Fri 29 10pm	4.5	38:00:00	8:27:00
5	Thu 28 9pm	6	45:00:00	7:30:00
6	Thu 28 7pm	7	1:00:00	8:34:00
7	Tue 26 6pm	11	1:30:00	8:11:00
8	Tue 26 7am	0	30:00:00	-	Massage. 8 minutes more intense ultrasound on my achillies and focus on calves again.
9	Tue 26 7am	9.03	1:15:00	8:18:00
10	Mon 25 7pm	9.03	1:10:00	7:45:00	bounding home again. Just tried to keep running fast (relatively) and managed to keep a near breathless pace all the way. Feel so much better than this time last week even with 47 miles in the legs still.
11	Sun 24 6pm	7	54:00:00	7:43:00	Felt absolutely fine (except for knee which I fell on). I would never have thought I'd ran 47 miles yesterday. I should have run the race today, I would have gone faster.
12	Sat 23 9am	47	7:32:00	9:37:00	Ultra Race 45
13	Link (roll over me to see where I go)
14	Sat 23 7am	0	10:00:00	-	Massage - Post race
15	Fri 22 3pm	4.5	40:00:00	8:53:00
16	Thu 21 9pm	0		-	Massage. Ultrasound for the first time. Did not feel a thing.
17	Thu 21 7pm	4	33:00:00	8:15:00
18	Wed 20 9pm	4.5	38:00:00	8:27:00
19	Tue 19 7pm	9.03	1:15:00	8:18:00	Running home, was only going to do 3 or 4 miles but I felt less tight as i went and did the whole thing. Life is good when runs end up being 3 times as long.
20	Mon 18 8pm	2.5	24:00:00	9:36:00	Work to Paddington. Really tight still.
21	Sun 17 7pm	2	17:00:00	8:30:00
22	Sat 16 10am	43	7:06:00	9:54:00	Country to Capital Link (roll over me to see where I go)
23	Fri 15 7pm	4.5	38:00:00	8:27:00
24	Thu 14 9pm	2	16:00:00	8:00:00	Achilles much better after a really painful massage
25	Thu 14 7pm	0	30:00:00	-	Massage. Roberto really dug into my achillies so much that I had to bite the pillow. Need to get compression socks  and stretch more.
26	Wed 13 7pm	2	15:00:00	7:30:00
27	Wed 13 7am	9.03	1:20:00	8:52:00
28	Tue 12 7pm	9.03	1:15:00	8:18:00
29	Tue 12 7am	9.03	1:12:00	7:58:00
30	Mon 11 6pm	9.03	1:15:00	8:18:00	Finally. A first from 2010. I felt like I was running again, so such so that I actually drew sweat. Almost as if my lungs are capable of extracting oxygen from the air.
31	Sun 10 7pm	7	1:00:00	8:34:00
32	Sat 9 7pm	7	1:00:00	8:34:00	Enjoying the icy canal. Slipping about all over the place.
33	Fri 8 7pm	4.5	35:00:00	7:47:00
34	Thu 7 8pm	2.37	20:00:00	8:26:00
35	Wed 6 7pm	1	8:00:00	8:00:00	A "streaksaver" running a mile to and from the take-away to save my streaking goal for the year. Was hideous, coughing all over the place.
36	Tue 5 6pm	9.03	1:19:00	8:45:00
37	Tue 5 6am	9.03	1:15:00	8:18:00
38	Mon 4 6pm	9.03	1:15:00	8:18:00
39	Mon 4 7am	5	38:00:00	7:36:00
40	Sun 3 6pm	6	50:00:00	8:20:00
41	Sun 3 4pm	6	50:00:00	8:20:00
42	Sat 2 11am	8	1:05:00	8:08:00
43	Fri 1 11am	3.3	30:00:00	9:05:00

Ultra Race 90

I was really looking forward to this one. Another run along my favourite canal only this time I got to run further up it. From Northampton to Tring is about the middle third of the GUCR. This would be the first time I saw most of it in daylight.

The Ultra Race 90 was going to be tough. Only in non-stop runs have I done more than 90 in a weekend. Having felt a longer hangover from my 45 miles the previous week I was a little worried about how I'd cope on the second day, or even the first. Still, at least its all along a canal. What can go wrong on a canal?

Jon Hoo (one of many new recruits to the Serpie Ultra Running Team) and I got the train at stupid O'clock from Euston and headed for Northampton. Jono was clearly starting to lose his mind before he'd even started. "You wouldn't believe what I have gone and done?" he despaired.

Road over the Blissworth Tunnel

"What?" I replied.

"Look, I've gone and bought a return ticket to Northampton?" 

"Yeah? And....."

"But aren't we going to Tring?"

"Yes, but we are running there, FROM Northampton which is where we are going now".

"Oh - Phew that's a relief. I wondered why I bought tickets to Northampton".

With that kind of stupidity he may well become a great ultra-runner.

At Northampton station we had an interesting conversation with your typical Midlander. On asking where the Park Inn hotel was a girl pointed at a building and said, It's just there, you can see it, it's about half a mile away. Then, on our departure she looked confused. "You are not walking are you? Get a taxi". We walked there in 10 minutes and I was looking forward to a day of getting asked along the way "where are you running to? Where did you start". It's true that Ultra-Running does cause heart attacks, but only to those simpletons stood at the side asking the runner what they are doing.

The registration was well set up and I bumped into Rory for the first time since the MDS last year. I immediately asked him next time to put the start back in Brentford. I had been up nearly 4 hours already and was knackered. I was ready for lunch.

There were 2 starting waves, one at 8 which we just caught leaving and then one at 9. We were given clear instructions on how to get from the hotel to the canal just out of town but Jono managed to send everyone the wrong way within 50 meters. 

Luckily someone was listening to the instructions and we were on our way to the Canal, the Northampton arm of the Grand Union Canal.

View ULTRArace.45/90 in a larger mapI jogged along with Nick Copas who seems to be my ultra running buddy nowadays. Mark Cockbain and Jackson Griffith were close by too. We saw Jono running off ahead in pursuit of the lead guy who seemed to be building a huge gap. None of the rest of us were really in the mood to make a race of it, not that I would have been able to anyway. The Northants part of the canal is very muddy and the canal was almost empty. Soon we hit the "left turn" and headed towards London. I remember taking this as a right turn when coming from Birmingham and initially led people in the wrong direction and was accused of sending people up to Birmingham. 

With that embarrassing turn out of the way we headed in the right direction towards London. This is about the 55 mile point of the GUCR and there is a sign that says 77.5 miles to Brentford. Fortunately we were not going that far today. There are mile markers that signal the distance to Braunston Locks, a place where the GUC meets the Oxford canal. I worked out that we were 11 behind, so that when a marker said 20 it meant we had run 9 miles. This was very useful since my Garmin was about to run out of battery.

Nick and I ran all of it together while I bored him with tales of what these places look like in May when it is a bit darker and I am suffering from hallucinations. First off was the road section while the canal goes under a hill. Last time I was here I was suffering sun stroke and wanting to fall asleep in someone's garden, now it was quite damp and cold I had no such desire to do so. At the end of the road and at 9 miles was the first checkpoint. Here we caught up with Jackson and I exposed him as the bastard who told me about the Spartathlon 3 years ago. As we ran down the path to join the canal again I spoke about the time I ran down here then back up again because I thought I was lost and then I bumped into Pat Robbins (guy who keeps breaking the GUCR record) who assured me it was the right way. Jesus Nick must have been bored of all this banging on about the canal race, as I'm sure you are reading this. Fuck it, it's my blog anyway.

There were only about 60 or so in this race and they all space out pretty far. I don't normally like running with people but found Nick quite good company. Jackson was experimenting with a run/walk race which explained why he was overtaking me every 5 minutes. Soon he shot off and left Nick and I to plod on.

The third checkpoint seemed to take a long time coming and was after about 28 miles. There was soup, tea and coffee and malt loaf and cake.  We faffed in the checkpoints getting fed for longer than was necessary and stiffned up quite a bit, which happens much faster in the cold. Getting moving again was hard and Nick was keen to keep moving whereas I was happier to stroll along stuffing my face. In an attempt to catch up with him I did a comedy stumble, tripping then charging about 10 yards before rolling over like an arse and cutting my knee and hand. 

I was enjoying a real run of nostalgia and boring Nick with it all. I remembered vividly the Navigation Bridge at 70 miles (15 here) where I fell asleep, then the small station at about 84 miles (29 here) where I tried to fall asleep but Henk wouldn't let me and then the pub bench a few miles on where I did fall asleep for a few minutes before being woken up my Nick Morrison-Smith who thought I was a tramp. At this point I had to stop and take a photo of the very bench I committed this crime on and as we stopped Nick seized up and struggled to move on. 

There were only about 60 or so in this race and they all space out pretty far. I don't normally like running with people but found Nick quite good company. Jackson was experimenting with a run/walk race which explained why he was overtaking me every 5 minutes. Soon he shot off and left Nick and I to plod on. 

The third checkpoint seemed to take a long time coming and was after about 28 miles. There was soup, tea and coffee and malt loaf and cake.  We faffed in the checkpoints getting fed for longer than was necessary and stiffned up quite a bit, which happens much faster in the cold. Getting moving again was hard and Nick was keen to keep moving whereas I was happier to stroll along stuffing my face. In an attempt to catch up with him I did a comedy stumble, tripping then charging about 10 yards before rolling over like an arse and cutting my knee and hand. 

That Bench

The last miles felt quite tough as we were slowing down quite a lot. I was hoping to get it done in about 7 hours and still thought that was realistic at the last checkpoint but we ended up taking 7.32. In the last quarter we ran a bit with a Fetchie "Mile Muncher" who was looking in very good form. My Garmin had given up and hers reported the last checkpoint being 37.5 miles. 7.5 to go, excellent.

It was a bit longer than that though. I was still looking around at the views I had hitherto missed by running this section in the dark. I remember the pub after 99.5 miles and how I flipped when I realised it was not 100. With this in mind we carried on and eventually took the exit onto the road into Pendley Manor. 

ouch

We went inside to find Jono had already had a massage and got changed and was waiting around. He had come second and only a minute off the lead. Not bad, for a guy who nearly forgot he was going to Northampton. I decided to stay in the hotel and rest and looked forward to the next day. After a massage my legs felt rather good. A couple of beers (breaking my vow not to drink before my birthday) and pasta and I was feeling sleepy enough to go to bed.

Then the most annoying thing happened, I got a hideous headache. I had no pills to deal with it so I downed water and hoped it would go away but it wouldn't. I worried about not getting to sleep which made it worse, it wasn't even a bad headache it was just really badly timed and hard to get rid of without drugs. I went downstairs to reception and met a guy who was trying to be helpful but actually making things worse. Constrained by the H&S Nazi's and threats of litigation that stifle many economies nowadays he said he could not give me any pills. When I asked where I could get some he mentioned an "easy" 3 mile drive somewhere. I said I had no car which didn't seem to stop him confirming to me once more that if I did have a car then it would be an easy drive. 

I decided at about 2am that I was not going to run the next day. I could have done it and I reckon I would have finished faster on the Sunday but I could not afford to be wrecked for the Monday. That could be the first time that work has taken priority over running. A slippery slope indeed. 

I got up the next day in time to see the early start leave and then the later one. I took some well deserved digs from Mark and Drew about not starting but stood by it. Plenty more times in the year to smash myself. I watched the start I should have been in and saw the runners run off through the trees. It wasn't a pleasant site but I still had hours of sleep to catch up on. If I am going to do a race sleep deprived it will be because it's part of the race, not because of some stupid headache. 

one of many pointless lock crossings

Country to Capital

The beard only stayed while it was cold. That's what beards are for.It has been a long time since I did a long run. The last time I did a long run I was pissing blood at the end. Since then everything has felt a little harder, I feel much creakier and heavier (because I am). I had not run more than 13 miles in one go for over 2 months. This was a combination of that tiredness, illness and some laziness. I was really looking forward to getting back into it. A 20 odd mile wade through some mud followed by a long stretch of my lovely canal seemed a great way to blow out those cobwebs and get the ultra season started.

The Country to Capital is similar to the old Tring to Town which was my first ultra. It starts in Wendover (rather than Tring) and goes through trails until about half way (22 miles) where it joins the canal and then it's all the way to Little Venice.

I thought a lot about my first ultra 3 years ago. Nowadays where I am considered a "verteran" of such things people ask me for advice on such matters. I am probably not the best to ask about training or nutrition but think I am ok at talking about how to get through them. Some of the questions I get asked seem like worrying over nothing, such as the choice of shoes or the wind speed. Then I recall from 3 years ago I was asking exactly the same questions to those who had been running ultras for a few years. Then it does not sound silly at all.

Oli, Nick, DI, Claire, Trampy

With this being my first ultra in a while and while reminiscing on my first I think it spurred me into getting myself organised the day before. I have become quite slapdash about preparing for these things, often wearing whatever I find on the floor that morning and forgetting bits of kit. For the first time in ages I was intent on taking the right things. I remembered a head torch, remembered to drink water the day before, remembered to have a proper breakfast (scrambled egg on toast) and to drink coffee 2 hours before the start then take imodium. I even remembered to lubricate places that have been been slowly erroding due to my forgetfulness over the past 18 months. It was like running my first all over again.

I don't think I was preparing quite as well as the guy I saw in the queue for the toilets who was rolling a couple of cigarettes. I suspect he has probably been in the army.

We drove up in the morning to a pub in wendover that was teeming with 100+ runners in waterproofs. It was pissing it down and was due to be the same for the first half at least. Go Beyond certainly do put on a good spread at the start of a race, bacon butties and fresh coffee everywhere. Shame I had already eaten properly.

We started a little late as the race director was very accomodating for those who had just arrived on a train from London. It was refreshing to see that there was little sign of backing away from this event and many were even entering on the day including fellow Serpies Nick, Di and Oli. Up and down the country short cross country races were being cancelled (The Met League claiming that the car park would be dangerous for those driving there, typical southern softy excuse). I'm glad that the events in my sport things don't fall over because of the winter.

We all piled out of the car park and down the high street in Wendover and then all nearly missed the right turn into a narrow cycle path. We quickly got stuck into the fields and it became apparent how difficult it was going to be. The previous 2 days of rain had washed the snow away in London that had kept all it's residents indoors for a fortnight but there was still plenty of snow on the fields of Hertfordshire. It had barely been touched but was much slushier and cold than fresh snow. There were times when our feet would dip into ice cold water and freeze. It would have been perfect as an ice bath at the end of a race but not 2 miles in.

VIDEOS Courtesy of JAMES ELSON

The route followed the Chiltern Link which consists of fields with fences, gates and stiles. We stuck to a group of about 20 and queued up at each gate. All of us were keen on not getting too lost in the first half, the weather was miserable and as some runners discovered only a few miles in the maps were not laminated.

The first checkpoint was in a small town who's name I can't remember, stocked with water (really cold water) and jelly babies. I felt I was over the tight achillies pain that I suffer in the first few miles of most runs that Roberto is currently having fun with.

A mile or so in the village and then we are back in the icy waters of the fields. I chat to a load of people on the way, some of whom have read the Sparta report and want to know more about it. It seems that those purple blisters from the GUCR 2008 are no longer how I get recognised. Now it's the pissing blood story.

I ran mostly with Oli Sinclair, Nick Copas (doing his first proper ultra) and Mark Cockbain. I was surprised to see the Geordie in a coat, it was at least 4 degrees. We were led my Lee Chamberlain (who we called at the time "that guy in the white who knows the way"). Lee was (until the end of the weekend) the record holder for the running 7 days on a treadmill, 468 miles. I did not appreciate any of this at the time, all I cared about was that he knew the way.

At 17 miles the second checkpoint was near the end of the "navigational" part of the run. Many of us were looking forward to getting on the canal and doing some blind running. It was tempting to stay at the checkpoint as there was plenty of food and a pub had just opened next to it. Oli, Nick, Mark and I hung around a bit and watched everyone else jog on. We then pursued the group and found them to be walking. We were not ready to walk yet and made a break for it following Mark. "Do you know the way?" we shouted. "NO" Mark replied. "Well, that's good enough for us". A little more wading through some ice cold water and then a visit to Roger Moore's house in Denham (about 5 Rolls Royces) and we suddenly hit the canal.

VIDEOS Courtesy of JAMES ELSON

I expected the canal to feel a bit like the finish line. All there was to do was about 20 miles of easy running with no navigation. Instead I just felt my legs become sore as the grind along the hard flat surface started. This was the furthest I had run for months. My legs were feeling the distance after less than a marathon. I didn't feel this achy after 50 of Sparta and I was running that faster. I have a little way to go to get the fitness back I had 2 years ago, but it was a good enough start.

Oli ran off as soon as there was no navigation required and soon after he looked about the same size as Nick, a mile in the distance. We were in no mood to follow and just plodded on. I was amazed at Nick's pacing, normally he sets out for each run like it's a 10k and dies half way through. He was looking strong throughout. I just made sure I kept with him and reminisced about my lovely canal. 

This was the first time in ages I was able to make the left turn on the route. This was one of the best parts of the GUCR but last year part of the path had collapsed and there was a diversion which involved having to run/walk through hell on earth, otherwise known as Southall. The last time I was there I had a hard time convincing some scag-head that I did not have any money on me for him to get the bus. I was really glad to just make the left turn this time.

Once we were on the home straight I knew there were only 13 miles left. 

I love the end of this canal, there are a few really steep but short bridges that are near impossible to run up when your legs are shagged. I alerted Nick to the particular bridge where I got overtaken by an attractive girl in a cocktail dress at the end of the GUCR, another great photo moment. It wasn't to be this time though we still walked up and down it.

We cantered into the finish in 7.05 and bumped into everyone at the end. Drew, Mark and Oli were already at the finish as was Brian who I'd only met earlier that day. Soon after Phillip Lewis came in, another Serpie and then Claire Shelly finished in an amazing 8.15 for her first "proper" ultra even having done 30 miles the weekend before. She is properly addicted now, signing up for everything. We stayed on to wait for Di and Cyril. News broke that Di had got lost and also missed the left turning and ran halfway to Brentford before realising. She finished in around 11 hours and fellow Serpie Cyril who is training for the MDS did so soon after. 

Brits are a funny lot for MDS training. How would one prepare for running through hot sand and blazing sun for a week in the desert? By running for hours in the mud and pissing rain whilst freezing your toes of in puddles in the dark. It is a proper British way of doing things. Perhaps if you point and shout "Mud" at the sand long and loud enough it will eventually turn into it.

So, first race of the year done and not too shabby. Great organisation by GoBeyond and I shall like to do more of their events in the future. They seemed particularly appreciative of the key to the toilets I loaned them at the end. I ached a bit more than I thought I would but I guess I can't be surprised as I'd barely run for 2 months. A good enough start to the year, just need to do that twice over next weekend.

Nick is actually in front of me, even though he looks really far away.

This year will be different.....

This year was a bit of a mixed one for me. I picked up some great medals over the 12 months and got my name on the finishers list of a couple of events I had to do. However I don't believe I have made as much progress as I did in 2008, when ultra running was still very new to me and I was sailing through it without much resistance. 2008 was a year where I could say I (almost) enjoyed every step I ran and ended the year in much better shape than I started. 2009 just seemed to be a slog throughout. I don't want to make excuses, it was down to me being unhealthy and overweight. I was unlucky for the first part of the year but I had to power to change it and I didn't. 

2008

I ended 2007 in a low place. My first 50 miler was cut short due to illness. Partly my own fault for eating dodgy food while drunk but nonetheless I ended the year on a low. I was supposed to finish the year on high having completed the longest run I'd done and would give me a good start for the GUCR which was 6 months away. 

I responded to it well. I signed up for an ultra every other week and had intended to rest in between. Jan and Feb were basically 50 mile runs every other week with marathons in between. March and April I was only running marathons but was doing 2 or 3 some weekends and high mileage in between. Here I stumbled upon a marathon pb the day after a 24 mile fell race. I was in great shape.

In May I ran the race of my life, completing the GUCR in 30.36 hours, quite fast in comparison to all other attempts. The first real tough challenge of my running life went beautifully. 

June I did nothing but July I got right back into it, running more marathons and then Davos, a 49 mile mountain run. I thought nothing of running a marathon 6 days before and also 2 days before, I knew I could run anything at this point and I did. 

August I ran my first multi-day race, the MOOSE. Despite crunching my ankle on the very first day I still managed to finish and had the time of my life running the long day, completely on my own and out in front. 

I wound down the remaining 4 months with another dozen marathons. Just keeping everything ticking over and finishing the year on a high, completing Rotherham and then the Hastings Marathon the next day. In between those two I drank about 8 pints of Guinness and was in quite a poor state in the morning. Hastings was the hardest run in the world for the first 5 miles but as soon as I sobered up a bit I was off running again and by the end it was just like a nice long run. I had no memory of the 50 miles or 8 pints the day before. 

I finished the year in the best possible way, remembering that it is the thing that will make me feel better in any situation. By the end of Hastings I could have turned round and run it again, but I had a train to catch.

Year	Jan	Feb	Mar	Apr	May	Jun	Jul	Aug	Sept	Oct	Nov	Dec	Total
2009	177	194	155	193	264	123	248	521	211	96	167	123	2473
2008	214	295	155	331	251	137	292	285	133	210	203	180	2688
2007	181	82	46	182	137	142	118	53	114	143	128	121	1446

 Training Miles

2009

Started with a bang. I'd just got over a chest cold that hung around for a couple of weeks but then ran a marathon in Zurich on New years day. I followed this 4 days later with an near pb (it was a bit long and I took a wrong turn) in the 100 marathon club AGM Marathon. Things were looking up and I was looking forward to an intense Jan/Feb of running similar to last year. Then I got another chest cold which put me out of most of Jan. I came back with 2 decent 40 (37.5 really) races and then off to Lanza to train for the MDS. 

I thought Lanza would be ideal training for the MDS, fairly warm (I was going to wear layers) and lots of volcanic trail to run on. Perfect. However the whole week was blighted by rain and cold weather. I didn't see much point running in the rain. Then I caught my third chest cold in as many months, right before flying out to the desert.

As it turns out the rain was perfect training for the MDS, the thing was flooded. A football commentator would call this "ironic" but football commentators are all idiots, it was just a horrible coincidence. My cold did not improve and I suffered the worst week ever plodding through a desert unable to run for coughing and unable to sleep either. I finished just to tick the thing off. Miserable.

I got over the cough just in time to run a pretty shit London Marathon. I didn't like it at all, all those people running and cheering. I then spent the year doing the same races as last year but much slower. The GUCR was a huge 7 hours slower. Things went wrong and some schoolboy errors and complacency made the run much harder. I am still pleased I finished and thought I did very well in the circumstances but the one thing that was on my mind throughout and after that race was that while I was in this shape I was not going to finish the Spartathlon.

3 forts, Davos (despite being rested), Tanners, Picnic, Salisbury 54321 - all slower than last year. These were all entirely my fault, being too unhealthy and overweight. I even attempted veganism for 2 months where I lost a lot of weight but also a lot of energy. I decided halfway round Salisbury that I was going to ditch it and have a hardcore august to train. 

August was the best month of the year, I ran for fun again. I was running 30 miles back to back without even trying, I'd run 30 on a school night. I ran all over London and repeated my Reading run again. In the last few days of the month I ran 153 miles in 5 days and the last mile felt better than the first. I loved every one of them, The Spartathlon was back on..

In September I flew out to Athens and into a very new world. People who run ultras as a way of life, some for longer than I have lived, it was common for someone to say that they had finished the Spartathlon 10 times, Badwater 5 times, run across the States, run across 100s of miles of ice. I felt like a child amongst great men.

Without going into detail the Spartathlon was the best thing I have ever done though I did not appreciate it at them time. I flew through the first 100 then really suffered. I finished but at a cost of nearly destroying myself, I tried to run races over a month afterwards but did not give this race the respect it deserves. I spent the rest of 2009 not doing much running in anticipation for great things in 2010.

2010 - What will be different?

Some changes I am going to make are;

• Quit drinking for 2 months and try to get below 12 stone by March
• Make running my commute the norm, 90 miles per week is probably too much but I should at least do half of it
• Run everywhere, to the shops, to the club, to work. Run more than I get the tube (I will keep a count)
• Run every day
• Buy less shit
• Write more about it and take more photos

And some targets and challenges for 2010

• Run 4000 miles
• Finish any big race I start 
• Run down into Sparta and up to that statue
• More solo runs along Britain's paths and coastlines

Much of it is out of my hands. I will enter the Badwater lottery system and will run if I am invited. The UTMB is already over-subscribed with more than a week left to register.  

It all starts today (kind of). I am missing the first marathon of the year because I am still suffering from the LE2 plague. Still going out for a run though. 

No Restraint

Restraint? How do you do it?

I was woken up this morning at 6am by my phone alarm. Strange as I didn't set it for that time. Glowing on the screen was a reminder that I need to register for the UTMB today, or in the next couple of weeks. Full marks for being organised, though it cost me an hours sleep.

UTMB is regarded by many as the hardest 100 miler there is. 30000ft of ascent around the alps on barely runnable track. It is on the list for sure but it really does not fit in with everything I want to do next year.

I want to do Sparta again just because of the 2500 year thing. I will apply for Badwater just to give myself a chance. This is sandwiched right in between, 6 weeks after BW and 4 weeks before Sparta, not good timing at all.

So, while in the pub and being sensible as usual I spoke to a few others who were interested in this and decided to do one of the shorter races instead such as the CCC which is around 100k.

I logged on this morning and took a look at the races on offer and could not quite bring myself to register for one yet. Not to worry, plenty of time. I then saw facebook updates and got emails from others saying they had put their name in for the UTMB. I then had a look again at the website and could not resist, the process was so easy. Going to the website and signing up for a smaller race is like going to the pub and drinking lemonade, or going to a strip club and asking her to keep her knickers on. Just doesn't feel right.

So inevitably I signed up for the 100 miles. My qualifying races were already listed against my name for me to tick, it was a little too easy.

So Now I am faced with the prospect of 3 of the worlds toughest races in 3 months. Badwater in July, UTMB in August, Spartathlon in September. I know it's been done before.

Lottery Loser

In October I entered the lottery for the Western States 100. Over the next 15 days I watched the names roll in. I badgered every Brit I knew to throw their hat in, in total 27 did. When the entries closed there were 1500 names going for around 300 lottery places. I knew my chances were slim, however this didn't bother me too much. If I get in then great, if not then no big deal, I'll try again next year.

It is a recurring theme in ultra races nowadays. the WS100 has always been hard to get in as it is the original and most prestigious of all the 100 milers. They did previously give the "two-time losers" a guaranteed place in their third application but now it is so popular and oversubscribed that they can no longer offer that. Now it is just a straight lottery, you could wait forever.

For the first time this year the GUCR places were given out in a lottery, Comrades sold 5000 places in 7 hours, the UMTB are introducing a lottery this year, even mud baths in the south of England are selling out long before the race. It it great that the popularity of the sport is increasing. It means I get to do more different events, meet more great people and see places that I wouldn't normally. On the other hand it makes it much harder to get into the "classic" events such as the WS100.

As the draw day drew closer I was in two minds as to whether I even wanted to do it. A trip to the states is a big commitment and great cost, I would have been happy to put it off for a while. Then 5 days before I got an email that said the live draw was taking place on Saturday and will be streamed on the web. All of a sudden my feeling changed from indifference to excitement. I wanted nothing more than for my name to be drawn out. I was off the the Serpie Christmas party but was glued to my phone between 5-7 as slowly the names were added to the list. 

I decided that the cost of the trip was worth it if I got in as it was so unlikely, alas it was not to be. When all the names were drawn there were only 2 Brits (one of them Ian Sharman who wanted to do this as his 100th this year). I was a bit gutted, but nothing that a skinful of hotel lager and terrible dancing wouldn't make me forget. 

It did bring home the reality that getting into these events now is not just about meeting the qualification criteria and having the money posted on time. There is such a large element of chance of gaining entry in the first place that it's hard to plan what races you want to do years in the future, which is what I have been doing until now.

So, with that in mind and having already decided somehow that I am up for a trip to the States next year to do a race I may have to change my plans slightly. Badwater was going to be the cumulation of the "5 year plan" to do the hardest race in the world. In the middle of 2006 when I entered my first ultra I had decided to aim for Badwater in 2011. There is however the risk that my plans may be scuppered due to my inability to get out of a hat. To double my chances I may as well put in an entry for next year. What's the worst that can happen?