In July 1980 (When I was 4 months old, barely able to even run a marathon) James Shapiro set off on a solo run across the USA, starting in Los Angeles as I will and finishing as I will in New York.
His account is quite poetic and he kept a journal with him all the time to capture all of the events and thoughts he enjoyed (and suffered) along his 3100 mile 80 day adventure. The book in another that is difficult to find (and expensive to buy). I thought it was worth the effort though. I can see myself building a library of ultra-running classics.
He did the run as a "Journeyman", meaning self supported rather than being in a race. The majority of the runners who beforehand had completed this run across the continent have done so in an organised race. To this day there have been 240 known foot crossings. Shapiro was the 108th.
This is a very personal first hand account of what it is like to run across America. He was not in a race but was running 45-50 miles a day without rest. Every few pages seemed to jump between what it was like to be running such an epic distance and a feeling of what it is like to be in a particular place in America, usually in the middle of nowhere.
Much of the book focuses on the characters that he met along the way and his straining relationship with friends who come to support him. There is something quite eery about doing a run and joining up so many insular towns and outpost and people who only exist because the roads are so vast. Oddly it would have been easier to do this unsupported in the 20's as there were still plenty of towns and people along the route 66. Now there is not reason to have them more than 200 miles from each other now.
In each town a small soap opera plays out and Shapiro just watches while eating three meals in minutes. He speaks candidly about falling out with the people helping him, as if they are trying to get in the way of his journey.
It paints a picture that runners are not supposed to be there, running on highways like that. He makes himself sound like an alien running where only people protected by juggernauts should enter. Before the days when all crossings are well publicised he just got up and went for it alone.
I like the chapter about him getting his gear put together, the relentless drive to minimise weight by cutting down to the smallest of sleeping bags and taking no luxuries. The disappointment of not getting the sleeping bag to be as small as possible.
One things that jumped out of me from this is that when running from west to east I'll never actually be facing a sunset. The sun will always come up right ahead of me and disappear behind my back.
Another great read to get me more excited about the summer. Despite being surrounded by people all the way in the US I am sure I'll get the same feeling on loneliness as Shapiro did back when I was still an incoherent dribbling defacating mess.
It had not rained in Paris for about a month apparently so it seemed fitting that it should forcast heavy showers when I was racing here. I signed up to do this event quite early on as I really enjoyed it last year and wanted to give it a better go than last time. Last year I had some horrid food poisoning from a now closed down dodgy chicken putrifier in Ealing. I was not in the best of shape but managed to finish the race and enjoy possibly the most spectacular and unique finish of all the races I have done, climbing the Eiffel Tower. Not yet I'm not...
Alas it was not to be this time as I am only 2 weeks on from my surgery and under doctors orders to not run. I have done plenty of walking in the past week and decided to just try to walk as much as I can until I get timed out. I had hoped to downgrade to the 50k so to at least have a chance of finishing something but due to all the races being full. There were nearly 2000 runners in the 80k which would make this the biggest ultra I have done in terms of field. It's not suprising as it is a great race. Here is last years report.
I managed to talk a few more Serpies into doing in this year. We all seemed to find each other at the park where the start was. The race does not start till 12.30 which is great for having a lie in but not so good as it starts when it is quite warm and finishes quite late at night. However finishing up the Eiffel Tower in the dark is pretty awesome. Those expecting a good time headed to the front (as it can get quite congested early on) and I stayed in the middle somewhere with Gemma.
On the signal to go I realised that I was getting in the way immediately. I was intending to walk until I got timed out and really did not want to run but had to to get out of people's way. I was one of those annoying runners who start unrealistically near the front and then block the way for everyone else. I managed to get to the side and start walking again and watched the mass of runners slowly plod ahead. Within half a mile I was pretty much last bar a few people who had gone off to go to the toilet or faff around with kit.
It's quite an odd position, last. It was as if there was a competion for it. This might be the closest I will come to actually ever racing for an extreme position in a race. As I walked along slowly at the back people would look behind then slow down and let me walk past. I am pretty sure they were not the sweepers but just really wanted to be at the back. I carried on with my walking (around 4mph) and was passing a few people who were running. There was a group of about 10 of us who got iscolated at the back while the masses pushed on.
The first cut off for 22k was 3.30 hours. I thought this should be comfortable and was out to enjoy the day except I was soon overtaken by two cyclists who then started to take down the route markings. The whole route is very well marked except it would appear if you are running at cut-off pace. I had to get ahead of those guys at least or I'll get lost so I started a shuffle where I tried not to lift my legs off the ground. It was hard and I could feel the bouncing of my insides but had to keep up. All of a sudden I was involved in a surreal game of pac-man where I'd run past ribbons in trees knowing that these would slow down my pursuers. Fortunately they disappeared soon and I could enjoy my walk.View from Last place
There were lots of different people defending the rear from enemy fire. There were a few of your classic "plodders" who had a laboured run/shuffle and entered knowing that they were going to be pushing the cut-offs. However there were quite a few younger men who seemed to have a normal run gait but were doing it in slow motion. I could not quite understand why they were not going faster or whether they were going slow deliberately. Reminded me of the slow bicycle race we had at school. You had to be a very good cyclist to win this by going as slowly as possible. I got disqualified for taking a tricycle. Should have known even then what the difference between "tri" and "bi" was.
I ended up walking with this little old lady (who was running) and she felt that it should be her task to reassure me that everything was going to be ok. English was not her first language but she said that we have over 3 hours to get to the first checkpoint and that the others had set out too fast and we will catch them. By "others" did she mean everyone else in the entire race apart from us two? Ha ha ha, all those chumps.
Well the race did not go on for much longer for me. I arrived at CP1 (21k) in just over 3 hours and decided to call it a day. My insides were a bit sore and the cuts were rubbing. I'd have liked to leisurely walk about another 13 but the positioning of the checkpoints (the next being 20 miles away) meant that I'd be walking into darkness and would probably take longer to get back to the end. I got on the meat wagon that was just waiting for the final cut-off to take the rest of the runners.
It was not great being on the bus going back to the finish obviously but this was a stark reminder that I am far from "ready" to run again. I basically can not tolerate any vertical bouncing. I read all sorts of stories on the hernia op where I was soley focussed on "how long?" Answers ranged from "I was bed-ridden for 3 months" to "I left hospital within the hour, via bungy jump and then sprinted across town to make it in time for my kick-boxing lesson". Still not panicking. Even if I do very little between now and then I am still confident of making it.
I arrived back at the Eiffel Tower around 5pm and spent the afternoon with Huw Lobb who had come second in the 50k. Almost as soon as I entered the food tent it started to piss it down quite hard. That would have slowed everyone down. I ate lots of food at the buffet at the end (I figured as I have only done one quarter of the race I was entitled to 4 times the food to make it even). The food at the end was great, with all you can eat meats, cheeses, rice, pasta, salads and cake and all you can drink beer and coke. I was going to be pissed by the time the others finished.
I started to stand under the tower just as it was getting dark and some of the leading runners were coming in. It seemed much more spaced out than I imagined with 7.30 on the clock. Gary was the first Serpie home in around 7.45. Rob and Claire (who did not look happy but insisted that was her "happy" face) came in around 8.30. Jen was not much later in just over 9 and I missed Matt and Mark finish. Jen remarked on how her feet felt OK until I sat on one of them with a chair leg. Ouch.
We were still waiting for Natalie and Gemma who were within the last 10k now and on the "easy" bit along the river. Gemma's texts would say she's got X far to go and then later say she had longer to go. She sounded like she was suffering so I went out to try to meet her, just as Natalie came in. After around a mile I saw her coming down one of the ramps onto the river and was hobbling quite badly. She had sore feet and blisters and was moving quite slowly, my leisurly walk seemed like great speed.
It looked touch and go as to whether we'll make it to the end but in the end there was 15 minutes to spare, she got up the tower easy and claimed her finish. Back off to the food tent (my 5th visit I think). It was great to meet Ian Corless who finished in a great sub 9 time too. I went to get Gemma's bag just after the cut-off was reached and saw some runners head up the steps to the base of the Eiffel Tower to see that it was completely closed. The once flashing beacon spreading across the whole of Paris was now almost invisible even stood right next to it. Must have been gutting to go all that way and not even have a finish to go to. Don't know how that compares to getting bounced away at 12.00.01 in Comrades but the tower was closed for business now and it was lights out.
Next year, I'll be ready to give this a good smashing. Third time lucky.
These are the questions and answers to the fetcheveryone.com "Member of the Month" interview I did a few months back. It was just after Badwater. Members are all invited to ask questions, I have annonymised them. At least no one asked "isn't it bad for your knees?"
Q - What is your most sought after pb ever and if you achieve it would you give up running??
Good question. I don’t really have a “pb” in mind in the usual sense ie “X time in some Y fixed distance”. I used to think about 3 hour marathons but got bored of the track work and specific training needed for that (though having said that my current marathon pb of 3.07 came the day after a 24 mile fell race so perhaps 3 hours will just fall out randomly one day). But there is nothing that if i achieved it would stop me running. There is so much earth out there to run and I am not going to have time to do it all in the little time I will have on here.
Q - When you have done the most mentalist race on the planet what do you do next? Besides having a wee shandy or two?
When I first got into this I thought I knew what the most mental race was. I looked up to Badwater like that was the end but soon realised that the world is full of people taking it further. When I did Badwater this year another guy did it back to back SIX times. There is always someone doing something more silly. There are a number of races out there that I still want to do and in some respects might be more mental that Badwater. They are getting invented faster than I can run them. If it happened that I finished the hardest one and there was no step up that would be the time for me to think of my own run.
Q - What would you do if you couldn't run?
I’d become a very convincing Rik Waller Lookalike.
Q - If there was one piece of advice you wish you'd received before you started "going longer", what would it be ? Congrats btw
Probably that I didn’t start soon enough or continue after the first marathon I ran. I did the London Marathon in 2000 and I loved it. I only did it as a joke to amuse some Uni friends. As I lined up at the start line I thought I might die that day. I was so nervous that my nose started to bleed. After about half a mile I had to duck into the toilets to sort it out, I was only there for 5 minutes and when I came out there was no one around. I was officially last in the London Marathon, I was even behind the 2 sweeper lorries clearing the rubbish. Anyhoo, I digress. I absolutely loved the experience but didn’t do another marathon until london again in 2003 and then again in 2004. I wish I had joined a running club straight after that marathon and got into the whole social aspect of running so much sooner and done a lot more races. That was before the internet was so widely available and i thought that “The Marathon” was the only race in the world that existed. On getting into ultras I was very tentative, doing a 45 miler then not doing another for about 4 months. I wish I had just dived right in. I see so many people on Fetch and friends from Serpies just getting straight into the multi-days and longer events and wish I had done sooner. I’m not saying that those wanting to do an ultra should start with a 100, but i would recommend saying “yes” to things more than saying “no”.
Q - So well deserved..congratulations. You have completed so many tough tough races. Have you ever DNF ? If yes...how did it affect you?
I have had a few DNFs in my time, about 5. Most of them were just a case of something hurting and me not wanting to risk it. I don’t worry too much about the DNF aspect like that, I am not too precious about having a DNF free record if it preserves my legs. The one time where it did really hurt (emotionally) to DNF was the Rotherham 50 in Dec 2007. It was my first 50 miler and the biggest run I would have done up to then. I got food poisoning the days before (My own fault from my addiction to filthy chicken places). I went up there with some friends and was really looking forward to the race, despite the grim conditions. Quite early on it was clear that i was not going to finish. I had not eaten for 2 days and I was having to stop lots. I pulled out at 17 miles. I would hardly say this was a dream race for me but I did feel like I had let myself down and was envious of the others who were going on to complete the race. It sucks when you are on the train back home and people are talking about parts of the race that I didn’t even see. I felt that I had to go back and finish. I think the worst thing about it is that at the finish line you feel like a bit of a lemon seeing your friends finish while you are already there and dressed. Then hearing them talk about the race, the bits that were hard, the bits that were amazing and everything you missed. It’s not so much missing out on a medal, some goodies and an official finish time, its more the experience that you missed out on.
More recently I DNF’ed the Highland Fling as both my knees seemed to seize up. Again, it was not a nice feeling but I knew it was the right decision. I meet some crazy ultra-runners who have a determination not to DNF any race ever, even if it kills them. I don’t think this is a wise move. There are times when you need to stop to stop yourself from long term damage. Your pride takes a battering but in the long term its better than your body.
Having said that I’ve never felt like I’ve been beaten by a race. I’ve never DNF’d because I thought the race itself was too hard. That’s one of the reasons I feel like I need to step up. To see whether there is a race out there that will beat me. It’s going to hurt like hell when it happens and will probably screw me up psychologically but I have to try and find it.
Q - Loved the Badwater blog. :) Do you think you'll ever get the same sense of satisfaction from shorter races (you know, anything less than say a marathon)?
I doubt it, I find shorter races hard for a different reason and I don’t like the way I have to burn my lungs to get around. I have made my bed now and it’s incompatible with trying to do justice to shorter races.
Q - What is your worst running experience a) in training, and b) in a race, and did you cry?
I have not had that many bad experiences, I try to take positives from everything. POssibly the worst race experience was the Marathon Des Sables where I was quite ill. I had a chest infection and really should not have started the race but it costs so much money I had to just get it done. There was no rest for the whole week, even when I was in bed I was being choked by the sand blowing into my mouth at night.
The one time I have cried in a race was actually the best running experience ever. It was in the Grand Union Canal Race in 2008. I had got to 100 miles fairly comfortably but was starting to get really tired and hurt. miles 100-120 seemed to take a day and I sat down at 120 miles and was unsure whether I’d get back up again, I was a mess. I decided to get up and was determined to get running again, within a few miles all the pain seemed to go away and then a few mile further I was flying, running like I was running 10k. This lasted for about 10 miles where I suddenly realised that I was definitely going to finish this race and I just had to stop, hold onto some railings and ball my eyes out. It was amazing to think that after 27 hours on my feet I could still run like that. I think about that moment every time something gets hard. It reminds me of how I can break out of hard times and also how I can finish anything.
Q - I've heard it on popular authority that you like to run and you like to drink. If you HAD to give up running OR drinking for life, which one would you choose and why?
Well, I only drink to replace the calories that I burn off running. And I only run to have something to talk about when drinking in the pub. If I was faced with that choice I guess I’d give both up and take up knitting.
Q - If you could run in any country in the world, where would it be and why?
Hmmmmmm. There are a lot of races I want to do in a lot of countries. I have never been to Australia before and there are quite a few there I would like to run .
Q - Will you be doing the Western States at some point?
Yes I hope to and was in the lottery for last year but it’s about a 17 to 1 chance on getting in. Its getting harder and harder to get into the popular events such as WS100, UTMB, Hardrock etc. WS100 is definitely on the list as are many other US races such as Hardrock, Leadville and Barkely.
Q - probably have some goals in mind for next year but in time can you see yourself maybe organising an ultra race of your own and if so do you have something in mind already (without giving too much away of course)?
I would love to organise my own race at some point but I can barely organise myself to run a race on my own. I am always forgetting things like vasaline, water bottles, pants etc that I think if I extended myself to try and organise 100 other people to do a run I might miss something completely, like forgetting to get permission from some guy who’s land we were going to run over or going through a firing rang on a tank combat training day. I do think it’s brilliant that there are so many people organising races thought, it seems that there is a wealth of choice every weekend now. Many Fetchies have put themselves out there and put on a race of their own and i think that’s brilliant. Jen J, Foxy, B-Lass, Els, LIverpool Feet and no doubt some others that I have forgotten. There are loads of others out there too putting on great events. I salute all these people for taking the risk and putting on events for lazy people like me to just turn up and run. I can’t imagine all the stress and not to mention personal financial risk. Over the years I have become a lot more appreciative of these people and try not to vent my spleen if something goes slightly wrong. Without them I would not have nearly as much fun as I do. Having said that I may one day organise a race. And you’ll do it won’t you MS? Probably better check about the tanks on the day though.
Q - what is your fave book and do you keep it in the toilet?
I have just finished reading “Why we run” by Bernd Heinrich and loved it. Its about a runner who decides to get into ultra running with a good marathon background but takes lessons from nature, such as the endurance capabilities of birds who eat once then migrate thousands of miles or even frogs who sing for nights on end. really is worth reading. Other running books I’d recommend are; Born to Run by Christopher McDougal. A brilliant story of some amazing characters in the ultra running world, a Mexican tribe and the idea that running is what humans where always capable of doing and should be now, and all this coming to a head at the Leadville 100 race. Survival Of the Fittest - Similar to the above it chronicles some of the authors endurance events and how humans are built for such things. I particularly like the bit where he suggests that we got an advantage to dealing with the heat better than all other animals due to our ability to sweat. We should be running the Marathon Des Sables every week :) I like all of the above as it suggests that running very long distances in the normal thing to do, and hence I am not such a weirdo. I will also recommend reading the Bunion Derby, an account of the 1928 foot race across America. 3300 miles on dirt track mostly along route 66 from LA to New York. I fantastic account of what people did back then for food, energy, shoes, foot care. Not a garmin or a training spreadsheet between them. And no I don’t read while on the toilet. I need to use both arms to balance so I don't end up falling back and scrapping my backside on the bushes.
Q - Please don't mind for asking this question. How much did it cost you to do Badwater? Congrats....very well deserved.
yes it was rather expensive. I reckon about £3k in total (flights, entry fee, accommodation and food for me and my support team, car hire). I managed to get a crew from out there so there were less costs for transport. If you were to take your own crew out there you’d obviously have to pay for their flights too. Because I was so obsessed with this race for so long it was worth it to me. I will definitely do it again but not very often I don’t think.
Q - You've done so many great races but if you could invent your own where would it be, how long and over what terrain?
Hey Bomb. I’m not sure actually. I quite fancy doing an off-road JOGLE, using some of the UK’s great national trails. I wonder if a race exists where you have to run for as long as possible without stopping or sleeping? That would be pretty cool. Unless it was round a track.
Q - How do you manage to balance life and your extreme running? Or is running your life?
Running is my life :) And the pub of course. Fortunately I don’t have any of those little people to look after so I have my time to myself really. Plus I try to consider running as a means of transport rather than “training”. I live about 9 miles from work which is a good distance to run each day if I am trying to get lots of miles in. It takes an hour on the tube, about an hour and 15 running. So if I did that every day I’d get 90 miles done in just an extra 2 and a half hours :) And I save enough money to eat 60 inches of Subway. If that is not an incentive to run lots I don’t know what is.
Q - mother nature often calls when one is out for a long run. where is your favorite place to shit and why?
Good question. Being out on the trail a lot you certainly do appreciate a good toilet. In a recent marathon I went into a portaloo and found they had quilted toilet paper. I was elated and could have spent all day there stoking my backside. Anyhow, dunno really where my favourite place is. It’s funny how when you first get into this kind of thing you find yourself wandering miles off course to dump cos you are worried about getting found out. Now I’d take a crap on a water station, I don’t care.
Q - Congratulations. Races: First, worst and favourite 3?
I did the London Marathon in 2000 and I loved it. I only did it as a joke to amuse some Uni friends. As I lined up at the start line I thought I might die that day. I was so nervous that my nose started to bleed. After about half a mile I had to duck into the toilets to sort it out, I was only there for 5 minutes and when I came out there was no one around. I was officially last in the London Marathon, I was even behind the 2 sweeper lorries clearing the rubbish.
Worst would have to be the Marathon Des Sables. A combination of horrible illness and a race that is so far up it’s own arse that it made me feel even more sick. But I won’t bore you with the sleepless nights, the 24 hours of queuing and all the fanfare, you can read it all here. Best 3? Interesting. There are so many great races in the UK and the world that I want to do and will never get round to doing all. http://runningandstuff.squarespace.com/blog/2009/7/9/marathon-des-sables-moan-moan-moan-cough-moan-moan-cough-cam.html
I think the Spartathlon wins it. The whole thing is so epically pointless but each year 100s of really hard nutcases decide to do it anyway. It is the only race I know of that has such mistorical significance, tracking the run of phiddipides from Athens to Sparta as he tries (and fails) to summon an army. The organisation is brilliant, pure running enthusiasts and not an ego among any of them. http://runningandstuff.squarespace.com/blog/2010/9/28/spartathlon-2010.html
The GUCR would not be far behind. If I were born in some other country I am pretty sure I would have never heard of this race. I will always have very fond memories of when I went from a 50 mile ultrarunner to an all day and all night and all of the next day ultrarunner. It was magical and it went so well. The whole event is everything that is great about this sport. http://runningandstuff.squarespace.com/blog/2008/6/23/grand-union-canal-race-report-long-version.html
Hmmmm, a third race? Probably Davos, just because it’s so well organised, there is something for everyone which means that a good selection of my friends come along rather than the usual ultra people who I probably spend far too much time with already.
Q - i'm heading to LA area next yr, what Ultra should i do? sensible suggestion if you dont mind! ps, welld done, bloody well deserved
Q - Huge congratulations, really well deserved! Was Badwater the Holy Grail you thought it would be? And if so, how do you look to future races after such a massive achievement? That was two questions wasn't it.....? Now I've made it three... *gets coat*
Badwater was the holy grail when I decided to run longer than the marathon. By then I had only heard of a few ultra races such as comrades, Marathon Des Sables and London to Brighton. Badwater just seemed to blow these out of the water. That one event sucked me into this world and the further I delved the more and more I found out about other events. Badwater was the holy grail I expected but at the same time when I vowed to finish this many years ago I thought I was just going to finish a race, what I actually got involved with was a complete change of lifestyle and perspective. It is no longer about 1 thing that I must finish and then that is the end. Having met some people who have done some crazy things I know that whatever I do there is someone out there doing twice as much.
Q - What one piece of advice would you give you some whack job who's considering running Badwater 135?
Get saving now.
Q - I think your article Ultra Running Tips - Mental Stuff http://www.fetcheveryone.com/article-view.php?id=343 is worth a MotM in itself! Why longer? Why not sub 3? Or is that coming? Congratulations again! :-)G
I think I’ve answered in an above question that I am not aiming for a sub 3 as such but am pretty sure it will just appear one day. Glad you like the article. I need to update that with some more stuff I have learned in the past 12 months about how do deal with things. AN update is coming soon..
Q - Have you ever considered asking for sponsorship from your favourite food purveyors? I am sure Subway, McDonalds and Prigles would be proud to support a fine figure of an ultra runner such as yourself. And imagine all the free food. Who would you approach first?
I asked Ealing Kebab if I could have free chips with my Chicken Doner if I ran around the town with their name on my T-Shirt but they declined. I think I would approach Subway first as I do like a nice 12 inches when out on a long run. When I was training for the Spartathlon last year I did about 15 30+ mile runs in a month and lots of them I would stop in McDonalds and get a meal. Milkshake, salty carbohydrates and a toilet. What more would I want?
Q - Who is your favourite runner and why?
Hey Docter K. I supposed I have to say the OH, otherwise my laundry and lifts to races are in jeopardy.
Yiannis Kourous is a legend. Holds every world record from 100 miles to 1000 and every record over 24 hours. http://www.yianniskouros.com/ But if it was not her I have a list of possible contenders. Scott Jurek I think is amazing. Such a nice guy but capable of such incredible things (winning Badwater, Spartathlon, Western States several times). Seemed to go into hiding as soon as he was revered as the best ultra-runner in the world. He waits at the finish line for all the other finishers in any race he does (which for him is usually a long wait). http://www.scottjurek.com/#/home/ Killian Jornet is a very young Spanish guy who is doing unbelievable things up and down mountains. Broke the UTMB record comfortably and seems to be able to run vertically. http://www.kilianjornet.cat/
I recommend reading the Bunion Derby for some great characters who ran the first organised trans USA run in 1928. Obviously Phiddipides who inspired the greatest race I have done and he did it without road shoes, a torch or even a garmin. I can just imagine him 2500 years ago. You must run to Sparta and summon an army. No wait a sec, I still have not got a signal. I need to know what pace I am doing as I run.
Q Fully deserved. Awesome race history. How many pairs of running shoes do you get through in a typical year?
I really can’t remember but every pair I get rid of I melt down and make a bit of path with it. Within a few years I should be able to run a marathon on it.
Q - How do you cope with those moments in ultras when you think, holy shit, I've already run two marathons back to back and I've got another three to go? And when are you publishing your collected works of blogs?
In the Spartathlon I had run one marathon by the time I’d usually be at work. Two by the time I’d eating lunch and thinking to myself “isn’t this much better than sitting in an office?” I was struggling then after 50 miles but the next 3 were a dream, I just felt like a sailed through them. It does not happen in every race but I know that no matter how crap I am feeling it’s probably going to get better later on. I hope to publish something to do with running and my blogs. It seems crazy how I was pooing myself about running 45 miles in one go 4 years ago and now I propose to run 45 miles a day for 70 days and am not (yet) concerned that it might break me into pieces. I’ve come a long way since I used to be scared of marathons. I might write it even if it did not get published but am struggling for a title. something like “Ultra Running for fat b******s?
Q - What amazing, insane thing are you going to do next?
Hi Dave. I’ve just signed up for the LA to New York race which is 3220 miles in 70 days. It seems pretty insane now. I remember crapping myself at the thought of running 45 miles in one go just once but now it seems sensible to do that 70 days in a row. Actually no it does not seem sensible.
Q - Congratulations, and well-deserved with all you've achieved in the field of extreme running this year. I seem to recall that about a year ago, inspired by some of the leading ultra-runners, you experimented with veganism. How long did the experiment last and what were your conclusions?
Hi Vrap. Yes that was a strange time for me. I was inspired by Scott Jurek and his vegan diet and thought I might try it AND do lots of heavy training. It did not really work for me as I think you need to be quite knowledgeable and passionate about food (which I am emphatically not) though I did learn a lot and never knew that chickpeas and falafel we so nice :) I am sure it is possible to run on a vegetarian/vegan diet. Scott does and I know a couple of people who even do the raw vegan diet and run ultras. Not for me though. I like Big macs too much.
Q - Fantastic achievement mate I mean Badwater :) of course and well deserved MotM. How do you train for your 'mental' endurance or is it natural ;)
I think mental endurance is natural in everyone. There is more and more evidence to say that we ran ran and covered long distances for thousands of years and hence we have some natural ability to deal with it. No one ever asks you “why do you like sex?” or “why are you so emotionally attached to your children?” because it’s taken for granted that these things are normal and natural as they have been essential for our survival and we have evolved as such. There is a lot of evidence today that we have always had to run and run a long way hence those who get pleasure from running would have been selected by evolution and those are the people who are around today. Probably not explained that well but I suggest reading “Why We Run” by Bernd Heinrich, Survival of the Fittest or Born to Run. In terms of training for it I certainly think it improves with experience. When I first started I would get stressed out about a lot of things. I remember my first ultra and I had just joined fetch and I was asking all sorts of questions like how does wind speed affect a long run and a lot of questions about shoes that would make Hellen laugh quite a lot. Nowadays I am so much more relaxed about all that but I like to giggle at those who ask the same questions I did when I started. I probably should ask more questions though cos I still screw everything up quite a lot. “Speed is sex, distance is love” - David Blaike
Q - About time as well young man. Now the main event, which one Spartathlon or Badwater? Choose wisely:)
You know I’m not answering that one *coughcoughspartathloncoughsplutter*
Q - Now you've done the race that kept you going as a target for so long, can you be arsed any more? What's your motivation now? (in a non-luvvy way)
Yes Badwater was always the target but along the way I found out some really good races that I think are more special such as the GUCR and Spartathlon. I can see myself racing the spartathlon every year for as long as I or the race lives, it’s such an amazing event and I think will be the main event for me for years to come. But nowadays I am mostly motivated by the LA to New York Race.
Q - Extremely well-deserved on many levels. Do you really have to be mental,or does it just help a little?
I don’t think I am mental. I think I am normal and everyone else is mental J I mean what kind of mentalist would smash himself over 5-42k of tarmac and then mope around for ages if it took him longer than he expected? Far more sensible to relax and just take your time strolling over 100 miles and ending up in a completely different place to where you started? Right?
Q - How did you get into first get into running Ultras? and Why?
A - I think it was a case of just getting bored with the formulaic road marathon training. I did the whole following a spreadsheet thing and got a marathon PB (3.12 from 3.34) at the end and did not really get so much satisfaction out of it, I felt like the victory belonged to the guy who made up this spreadsheet rather than myself, I was just the dog that did what he was told. I never thought when I entered my first ultra (tring to town 45 miles jan 2007) just how much they would take over. Now I can’t get enough of them. /blog/2007/2/3/tring2town.html
I like it when people tell me that things are much simpler than others make out. I liked this book immediately, every page seemed to just say cut out the complexities of what you have done before and keep it really simple.
There are may great books out there suggesting that we are "Born to Run". Meaning that running is something that we have evolved to do (and evolved out of doing - having read a lot of Dawkins I know that my use of the word "evolve" is pretty sloppy here). Some of my favourites; Survival of the Fittest demonstrates humans ability to endure physical activity such as running long distance especially in the heat. Why We Run is my favourite and shows how Humans really are endurance kings in the animal world and the famous Born to Run further shouts that running is natural and that our feet are marvels of biological engineering that allow us to do this.
This goes one stage further (I think) and suggests that running is an innate ability in humans and hence we learn to do it naturally. When we are kids we don't get the set squares and protractors out to be told how to run efficiently, we just do.
There are a lot of good things I have taken from this book so far. Simply put the key to developing a good running technique are;
Run lots
Run fast sometimes
Run when fatigued sometimes
Well if we are "born to run" then how come we all get injured? There are two main reasons suggested;
Nowadays we run in big "supportive" shoes that force us to heel strike and cause injury
Nowadays we all sit on our arses a lot more, causing tightness in our hips/core and that leads to other injuries when we run
So he adds 2 footnotes which are;
Wear the smallest heeled shoes that you are comfortable in - ie don't go barefoot if it feels bad
Look after your hips with stretching/yoga etc
Running is a neuro-muscular exercise and the more of it you do the better you'll get. I get told quite a bit about "junk" miles but from my point of view if I like running and can use it to get from A to B then no miles are junk at all. High mileage is the biggest predictor of race performance.
Running fast (sometimes) forces you to run efficiently as there is no other way.
Running when fatigued is something I am familiar with and
The shoes one is an interesting debate, the minimalist movement is gaining ground and now all major shoes manufacturers are offering a "minimal" trainer (at far from minimal price I have noticed).
There were a lot of other gems in this and would definitely suggest reading it. It's funny because his previous book "Brain training for runners" finished off with the usual appendices of training plans for you to stick to. This time he suggests you wing it a lot more. So for example if you are supposed to be doing a hard run but don't feel like it's working then you can ease back and call it a recovery run. Vice versa if you are running easy and feel like smashing it then you should go for it, so long as you get a good combination of speed/recovery/long/hill etc runs in.
Great stuff about the finish line mentality and how records are broken.
Anyway, a great read and quite refreshing that is does not prescribe to tell oyu exactly what you should do and how far you should run every day to achieve your race goals.
Not that I condone proper "training" or anything like that :)
I heard about this book a year ago. It’s an easy one to miss as it’s so rare but anyone wanting to read the history of ultra-running up until 1980 should seek this gem. I got it as a birthday present (a second hand copy in good condition cost around £100) and read it in one sitting.
It starts with the American author tackling a 24 hour track race in Crystal Palace. He talks of being in good enough form to have a go at the World 24 hour record which stood at 161 miles and paints a strangely compelling picture about track ultras. I always wanted to do one some day for the experience and a different kind of race. I know a lot of people say “never in a million years” to this kind of thing but it has always appealed and the atmosphere Shapiro creates when describing his experience is very tempting.
To be in a race knowing exactly where you are compared to others and how much you are gaining or losing on them sounds overwhelming. Even back then before garmins would spout out your pace and heart rates there was a wealth of information about your time/pace and position. The race started at 3pm and went on into the night (where the announcements went silent to not disturb the locals) and then on through the next day.
Most of the book is not about Shapiro’s experience but of him tracking down some of the historical figures of ultra-running and talking to them about their experiences. Remember this is before the days of some of the “classic” ultra-marathons. Before the Spartathlon or Badwater or the MDS existed. The Western States 100 was only just gathering momentum. 100 mile races tended to be the 100 mile points of 24 hour races since it as difficult to measure 100 miles otherwise. It was before some of the more modern household names had got into this kind of stuff such as Yiannis Kouros and Scott Jurek.
The book is rich in stories of races and runner of years gone by.
From where competitve ultra-running started in the UK in 1810 with the "wobbles", 6 day events around tracks that draw in huge gambling crowds and hence large prize pots. These were walking races until a chap called Charles Rowell decided to run sections. Rowells records were impressive; in 1882 his recrods were 13.26 for 100 miles, 35.09 for 200, 150 miles in 24h, 258 in 48 and 353 in 72. These were popular for the whole century and the Victorian working class would often go to the tracks after a hard days work and watch their runner press on. Such endurance feats spread to the US but there is was more walking/running from city to city.
A great interview with Peter Gavuzzi on his racing across the US in 1928 and 1929 brings new light to the books I have already read on the subject and probably inspired him to make hs own US crossing a few tears later in Meditations from the Breakdown Lane (My next book to read).
The best parts I think are the focus on the 2 big races that helped make ultra-running what it is today. The story of Comrades, particularly the early years when Arthur Newton was breaking new ground in endurance is fascinating. Arthur Newton wrote lots of books on the subject of running in the 20s and 30s and even though he only took running up at a later age he managed to win comrades 4 times and was winning the 1928 bunion derby until injury struck.
London to Brighton is one of a lot of discontinued UK ultras that are mentioned (London-Bath, Plymouth-Exeter, Woodford-Southend, Epsom 40). The chapter is a detailed report of an epic race between Don Ritchie and Cavin Woodward, two of the greatest distance runners of the day. Ritchie was famous for going out hard in every event no matter what the distance and had an incredible talent for keeping that pace. Woodward and Ritchie had spent the previous years trading world records with each other for the 50 and 100 mile distances and the race between them in the 1978 London to Brighton did not disappoint.
I love this book and it is a great history of ultra-running up until 1980. It certainly paints a different picture to how it was in the UK back then, although ultra-running has always been a very inclusive sport for people of all abilities and backgrounds it seemed to be more serious at the sharp end back in the 70s. Though I love the UK scene now and my position in the middle of the pack there does seem to be a lack of these types of really hardcore ultra road runners who could entertain crowds with hard racing over 40+ miles. Much as I like to plod along canals I admit that there is little in it from a spectator point of view but I can imagine more interest in seeing 2 or more mentalists trying to smash each other at 10 miles an hour along undulating roads. Perhaps we need to bring London to Brighton back?
It's also full of great pictures going back years.
Anyhoo, it is a great book and provides a great history of the sport until 1980. Recommended reading for anyone interested in Ultra-running. Let me know if you want to borrow the book, I might lend it to you. You'll have to wear gloves though.
It is not pain I feel but sinking
My involvement with the world grows dimmer
It occurs to me that it would be nice to keel over
A barely audible whisper says it would be a way out
Today I had the operation. It was a success as far as I know so far and am quite happy. As I write this I am in no pain as such but am pretty tired even though I have spent most of the day with my eyes closed.
Obviously I have to blog about it..
It started well. I was offered a newspaper to read while I was waiting for the surgeon and was given a choice between the Indy and the Daily Mail. Probably just as well I was given the Independent, otherwise I would have probably read that my hernia was caused by Eastern European gypsies or an EU directive on the use of the metric system.
It was a much different experience to the NHS hospital I went to 8 years ago for the same thing. I was there being operated on within a month of finding the problem rather than 6 and my room was more like a confortable hotel stay with Sky TV, ensuite bathroom and food and drink at the touch of a button. I had not been able to eat since the previous day nor drink from 10am and I was getting quite hungry. Having arrived at 10 and filled in some forms top say that I am not allergic to anything and that I have no history of falling over (that's a lie obviously).
The few hours wait were punctuated by visits from various nice people. A lady came to give me the clothes I need for the OP including a lovely pair of mesh underpants. Another came in to take an order for my food. The Surgeon came in to draw on me to make sure he would operate on the correct side and the anaesthetist came in to talk to me more about allergies. A Nurse came to take some of my stats, my heart rate (55 at the time), and my blood pressure which was something like 135/70. The temperature of my left ear was 36 degrees.
I also got a visit from a physio who told me not to do much exercise for 4-6 weeks (others have told me 2-4 weeks and others have told me 1 week). He told me to do yoga or pilates to strengthen my abdominal muscles generally and gave me a leaflet on how to get in and out of bed. I had so many visitors it was great.
At around 2 I got pushed on the bed into the theatre where the anaesthetist started to chat to me about running. She was reading "Born to Run" and had heard about ultra-running. She said she had done a half marathon before and would never do it again. I tried to convince her otherwise but was not doing a great job of it as she had just injected me with morphine and I was high as a kite. I glanced around at all the kit giving me live readings of my heart rate and was imagining what it would be like to be a triathlete. Within seconds I was asleep.
It took a long time to wake up. I was lying there listening to voices and aware that I was awake and where I was but I just could not open my eyes. Soon I was passing in and out of sleep as the anaesthetic (or exposure to tri-stats) wore off. It was around 4pm, I'd been out for about an hour and a half. I was soon wheeled back to my comfy room where Gemma was there and arrived just in time to watch the Man U vs Arsenal FA game. I had a sandwich and a coffee on the way too, it was perfect.
I didn't really feel much pain while sat still but moving can be sore. It's more a paranoia that my insides are going to explode if I move too suddenly. I've been told that I can just take normal ibropufen and paracetemol to ease the pain. The Surgeon came back in to inform he that the operation was a complete success and then handed me a piece of paper. I thought it was going to be a certificate for being really brave but in fact it was 6 photos of my opened up groin. To be honest it could have been anyones innards. I can not say with any confidence "THAT'S MY SMALL INTESTINE". Still, makes a nice memento given that I had nothing removed that I could keep pickled in a jar.
He said I should lay off for a while and certainly not do any "fast" running for a few weeks. Phew. I never did any of that anyway.
It’s too easy to sign up for races based on the one dimension of distance from start to finish. That’s usually what I do anyway and leave the second dimension of ascent as something to think about when I am there. So when I signed up for the Trans Gran Canaria race many months ago, excited by the stunning views promised, the warm and some birthday beers at the end I just thought “well, 123k isn’t even 3 marathons is it? Should be no bother”.
The closer the race came the more I came to realise that this was not the case. The winning times are over 13 hours, the cut off is 30 hours. Why would it take nearly a day and a half to run three marathons? My quick glance at the profile of the course did not raise any alarms either. From sea level it goes generally up for the first 2 marathons up to only around 2000m and then the last marathon is down. Does not sound much worse than a single climb of the UTMB. However I had overlooked the total elevation that was clear on the website, 8400m. That was almost the entire UTMB (9500m) of elevation in a much shorter distance, 17k, almost a half marathon again purely up and down, like going up and down Everest. And I have not climbed a hill since August. It looks quite hilly, it was actually hillier than that.
It was approaching midnight, we were in Playa Inglise on the south of the island enjoying some of the local entertainment outside the street bars. On a stage we were treated to a rendition of “In the Navy” followed by some comically stereotypical Spanish guitar playing (with sombreros). I almost expected Manuel to stagger through the tables and chairs and throw Paella at some large woman shaking maracas.
Half of the audience were just enjoying a Friday night on their holiday, the other half were loitering, faffing around with kit, lubricating themselves and scanning for toilets. I sp[otted Mark Collinson who I have chatted to at a few races recently when he got off one of the coaches. We were all really excited about this.
On the stroke of midnight we all squeezed through a narrow archway and onto the beach where we had to run 5k to the next town. Again I had no idea about this bit and looked unprepared as most of the other runners had duct taped bin bags to their feet to protect their feet from the sand. I remember how badly blistered my feet got in the MDS and worried that I had to start of with this.
The beach section was actually very pleasant. The noise of the start died down and the waves crashing against the sand were very soothing. Jen and Jany sang “Happy Birthday” as we ran quite quickly over fairly flat sand. Every now and then a big wave would creep towards us and everyone would swing to the left avoiding the water like squealing little children. No one wants to get sand or water in their shoes at such an early stage.
After 5k we reach Maspalomas and take a right and head into the mainland. There are some people cheering us already as we enjoyed a few kilometres along some tarmac and then into a dry canal. This was a bit odd, a dried river/canal bed which was really hard to run on in the dark and only the glowing of dim head-torches to help guide us from spraining ankles.
Thankfully we were out of this soon and onto a wide track where the runners started to space out. The long slow uphill had stared and the dreaded walking poles came out. The path was wide enough for this not to matter and I got into a good rhythm of powerwalking up the hills and running any downs and flats. Occasionally I saw an ambulance race up or down the path with sirens blazing. Some people had run into trouble early.
Around 20k I started to regret not making the most of the toilets at the start and as we were running along a valley that had us flanked by a wall and a cliff there was nowhere to go. After a while of uncomfortable shuffling I finally found a great spot only to discover that there was already a guy there with his dog. He was the one going not the dog. I just pitched up a few yards away and did the same. It felt better, there is always the great feeling after relieving yourself on a run such that you are almost strutting the next few miles. I like that, I’m going to chase that feeling.
What on earth must the dog have felt like? The chap ran on ahead and his dog was obediently following except to take many detours to smell bushes (adding distance, don't think he was wearing a garmin collar). He could not have any idea about what he (I am assuming it was a he, I did not get that close) was setting out to do. Perhaps that helps. Idea for a race – keep the race distance a secret (say anywhere between 100 meters and 100 miles) and tell people to bring as much or as little with them.
The first 30k were quite easy and I covered them is around 3.40. The first checkpoint was merely a lorry full of water to re-fill on. I only spent a minute there before heading on up some more hills and onto the proper hardcore part of the race.
There were very few non-Spanish in the race I found. There were about half a dozen Brits, a few Germans and Italians (did not see any French people though the usual winner is French). This race seems quite a well kept secret for them.
Around 4am it started to piss it down. I seemed to bring bad weather to the MDS and UTMB in recent years and though I was expecting a little rain in this one I thought at least it was going to be warm and the rain might be a blessing, however as we climbed I felt the cold a lot, despite 3 layers. The terrain did not help either, it reminded me of Bovine in the UTMB where I just seemed unable to get up the mountain. It was very rocky and on trying to stagger over the rocks I would often lose my balance and slip back down.
Even though I was struggling I thought about Jen and how she was doing since she really was not wearing much for this race, just a short sleeved top on. I wasn’t sure whether she was ahead or behind me as I last saw her about 5k but I figured if I was cold and I had an extra layer (not including significantly higher body fat) then she must be freezing. Afterwards she said that a kind runner lent her a rain jacket which probably stopped her from freezing on those mountains.
It took a long time to get to the top of that climb and it was impossible to tell whether I was at the top since it was dark. Shortly after the peak there was a steep decent that was to be a characteristic of the entire day, down through a small village and into the first “proper” checkpoint at 42k. It was gone 6am, those last 12k took nearly 2.30 hours.
The checkpoints have a UTMB feel to them, there is Pepsi, meat, cheese, bread and all sorts of hot food in a large medical style tent. It was still raining and still dark and the canvas beds in the medical tent did look tempting but I decided to try and spend as little time as possible at the CP’s. I just went indoors to re-fill my water, grab some chocolate and then head on out. 1 marathon done, 6 hours.
The rain stopped as day broke and I was climbing up some steep but technically less demanding inclines. As the sun rose I could see around the amazing views and the great path I was climbing, it was like a great paved street moving upwards, surrounded by a small wall.
I have recently bought a sports cam with the intention of taking footage of races like this where words can’t describe what I see or when I forget stuff which is more likely. I have attached a few videos here and I hope they show some of the beauty of the race as well as some sound of me sounding knackered. I am quite impressed with the camera so far though not so much with my own camerawork or my inane drivel as I try to think of something interesting to say while beasting myself up a hill.
Shortly after daybreak the two routes split, there are the yellow bibbed runners doing a simple south to north run of 96k and us green bibbed runners who do this plus an extra loop of 27k in the middle of the island where it is hilliest. The start of this loop was quite high already and took us winding around the top of a ridge where I was treated to the spectacular sight of pine trees growing on harsh volcanic rock. In the middle of the island you could easily see for miles and pick out the paths carved into the sides of the volcanoes where perhaps we were about to run (or had already run, I had no idea).
Around 50k and there was the first proper steep and technical drop which I took to with my usual grace and dignity. I am really really bad at this and at times would not even move forward. This is where races like this are won and lost. Although I never expect to win such a thing I know that the fast guys make very quick time racing down the hills with seeming little regard for their own safety and a complete denial of gravity. I imagine that the elites always make sure that each step propels them forward (sound obvious) so that no foot strike is wasted. However I seem to move sideways as much as I move down and hence will probably take 3-4 times as long on this kind of stuff than those guys. My downhill goes something like forward-forward-side-forward-side forward-forward-forward-side-side-forward-side. I put a lot of effort into not actually moving anywhere.
Finally at the bottom there are some flat bits across dams. There was an odd section across a sewage pipe. There were some great views here, I was in the middle of the island with only mountains to look at. It was wonderful looking up for a change.
Around 9am I was doing up my shoe laces as Jany skipped past me. Again I was not sure whether she was ahead or behind but it was great to see her and she explained how she managed to go the wrong way at the split point and follow the yellow bibbed people. She was on much better form than I was at the time and is a much better hill climber than me and I was determined to stick with her for the ups that we were about to undertake.
It was not even 10am and the cold I had been suffering from during the night was quickly replaced by sudden feelings of overburning. It would turn around quite quickly, when the sun was out I was too hot, when it went behind a cloud I got cold. The higher we went the colder and windier it was though the work rate made me very hot. My body just flicked between feverish hot and chills. Jany seemed fine with it and was chatting away as I tried to get my mass up the verticals.
The section between 42-63k was really quite nice and good time can be made on it. Plenty of gentle downs and though the ups are steep there is not too much technical about them. Jany was convinced that we had not even passed the 42k point when we met but I was sure that the checkpoint was the 42k and we were well past it. In fact we were both surprised to hear that the next checkpoint we arrived at was 63k, more than half way. The checkpoint was just another water lorry and we did not stay there long but we were both quite pleased with the progress, around half done in about 10 hours. Just another 20k of the ups and then according to the profile we had a nice easy downhill marathon.
Feeling pretty good about the time we were making we jogged on and into more climbs. Though we had done lots of ups and downs thus far I knew we had not done anywhere near the 8400m we had paid for and so expected this section to be pretty brutal. It did not disappoint.
We marched up and down the same kind of terrain for a couple of hours, enjoying the views and Jany suffering my brief interviews on the camera. I don’t think we said that we would stick together but it seemed that we were going to run near each other until this whole thing was over. Extrapolating as a runner always does we thought this would be around 20 hours, less if that downhill marathon was really easy. This all seemed very well until we got to another checkpoint about 2 hours after we left the 63k point and were told that it was 69k.
6k in 2 hours? The maths is quite frightening. We weren’t even going slow. We thought there must be some mistake as it is incomprehensible to move that slowly. There sure was a lot of climbing it that 6k but not that much? I had a quick snack at the 69k point and pressed on, convinced that we would reach the 82k stage in not much time at all.
On leaving the checkpoint a lady there told us that it would start “going up” now. I don’t know how she would describe what we had been doing for the last 40k. She was right though, this is where the “up” really started.
Some of the inclines were 45 degrees as the sun played peekaboo behind the clouds, tormenting us with hot and cold. We were exposed to the fantastic and bizarre rock formations that make this island look so amazing. Higher up and in the middle of the island the vegetation becomes more baren and the rocks are harder. After another 2 hours of climbing up and down we ran into a few tourists as we were approaching Roque Nublo, a natural symbol of the island. It is basically an 80m tall lump of rock right on to of an already significant hill. Stood just in front is a chap with a chip mat that we have to run through. I was optimistic thinking that this was the 82k point and that the 69k quoted earlier was way off (By the way niether of us had Garmins, they spoil the exitement). He said that this was not the major checkpoint and that we just head over the next mountain, up and down into the next CP and it was about 8k away. Bouldering
So by my reckoning that was about 5k in 2 hours. Shit. This was not going to be finished in the daylight for sure. Then it got really silly.
On the climb of "the next mountain" I tried to picture us reaching the top and being able to say that this was the end of the hardcore climbs. This one was not too bad. Steep and long like most of them but on fairly even trail. On reaching the top there was a long gentle downhill, a road crossing and then back up again? On reaching the second peak (which was harder, it was slippy) I looked around and thought that there is nowhere higher than where we are and so could not possibly have any more but then we went down at up again. SIX times in total and one of those being climbing on boulders with climbing ropes.
This race would obviously compare well with the UTMB. It's 43k shorter but packs in more climb per mile. I would say the terrain is a little more technical here and the support is the same. There is much less crowding here too and the weather conditions would be similar. However I think the key difference and the root of much of the torment and frustration here is that you never know when you are at the top of something. The individual climbs in the UTMB are bigger but at least when you get to the top of one you know you are at the top and have ticked off one of the eight big climbs. Here there is no knowing how much further you have to go up. The Dome of the "next" checkpoint
SO on the 6th climb (a very steep one on a pine trail) I saw at the top a dome and could hear a road and the occasional beep of a chip mat. Fantastic, it looked like it was the highest point we were going to go and after about another 2 hours we thought we were making great time to get there. We reached the top of the climb went over a railing onto the road to see the chap there with a lorry and a timing mat. "Where is the checkpoint?" I breathlessly asked. "About 3k down there" he pointed.
Very steep down. Jany was soon an ant.FFS
At least it was "all down". Very steep in some places. It was a still beautiful and it was around 3pm when the sun should be fairly strong but on getting finally to the 82k checkpoint it was actually quite chilly. It was exposed on the side of a ridge and despite blazing sunshine it was still cold.
Matt had come to meet Jany and this was the point where you can leave a frop bag. Seems silly to leave it so late into the race given that down was the "easy" bit, a downhill marathon. I did not have much in my bag, just a replacement for the nuts and sweets that were still in my rucksack uneaten. Jany looked like she was suffering a little and we stayed at the CP for about 15 minutes where I had some nice pasta and ate some of the greasy meat on offer. You think eating from a bowl of nuts in a bar is hazardous to your health you should avoid eating meat and cheese from a plate 80k and 17 hours into an ultra.
Jany wrapped up in all her layers and we started the nice shallow descent along a great path, the first nice bit of running we got to do for a while. It go warmer and I got thirstier for a post race beer and thought I was within grapsing distance of it now. Today was my birthday and I thought what better way to spend it than running a race then drinking. I was hoping to have at least a few hours of beer time at the end before midnight. With 8 hours do do the last marathon this seemed quite likely.
Not long though I was part of a conversation I thought I'd never have. Jany was lagging behind a bit and I was suprised by this until she just yelled "My uterus is about to fall out". I really didn't know what to say. My initial reaction (in my head) was that there was space in my rucksack if she needed it. I had no idea what to do here, why do girls have to be so complicated? Matt rescued her with some things to help with her "women's troubles", not sure what it was, looked like a lip balm. Pretty soon she was right back on form, bounding up and down with a smile on her face. Would have made a great TV commercial.
Actually Jany was doing phenomenally well given that Easyjet did not put her luggage on the plane. Whereas the rest of us spent the Friday lounging around and sleeping in preparation for a midnight start Jany was filling in forms at the airport to get her suitcase and then had to sort all her stuff out, getting little rest. I had never done a midnight start before and it's hard to know what to do in terms of rest in the days before. Jen was trying to get up earlier and earlier each day and try to force some sort of jet lag on herself. I got up around 9am on the friday, had a big breakfast, faffed around for a bit and had a big lunch and a couple of beers and then snoozed again between 3 and 7. I was at the start line feeling quite fresh and at no point in the race did I feel sleepy.
It was getting cooler and there were still a large number of hills to climb. Nothing as bad as the middle third of the race but now the terrain was getting earthier and muddier. The downhills were steep switchbacks on slippy soil and there was no way of getting any proper momentumn. Even if I was in the mood for racing down hill the amount of turning back on yourself made it very hard. As with all downhills Jany was much faster at them and within minutes she'd look like an ant and then disappear. Even though we were going down a lot we were not making up much time.
The 100k checkpoint is annoyingly the 99k checkpoint. It's in a small town and we got there around 7pm giving us 5 hours to get the rest done in under 24. The race cut off is 30 hours but I didn't fancy another section in the dark. It would be nice to finish, go to bed and have a fairly normal day tomorrow of lounging on the beach and eating squid. We heard here that Jen had been pulled out of the race at 82k for having a blue face. It was a great shame as it wasn't going to get any colder from here as we were heading down but she wished us good luck with the "downhill" marathon and said to meet us at the end.
About 100 out of 300 starters pulled out (or were pulled out by the organisers). It's easy to see why with the weather so variable and the terrain so hard. Last year's winning time was just over 13 hours, amazing in this. This year it was a bit more than that which I think refected the less than ideal weather we had. We didn't stay at the 99k checkpoint for long. This was where Gemma's 24k race started and she did that in about 2.40. We had about twice that long and it was probably going to take that long as it was getting dark. We set out and unsuprisingly we started off by going up a hill. Some "nice" trail
The sun disappears suddenly as we were covered in forests but the long uphill was at least level so we got a great powerwalk going. Then it was pitch black as we ran over some muddy sections which were generally down or flat. Jany and I took tunrs to run in front and made sure we were both looking out for the ribbons. arrows and reflectors that marked the route. The route markings were actually very good, there was something every few yards it seemed and it would have been hard to get lost though I am sure some of my London based running friends could manage it somehow. Having spent the last 10 hours getting gradually overtaken by other runners on the ups and downs (remember they were cheating with sticks) we managed to overtake a load of people here, about 20. It was dark and everyone was walking but Jany and I were running quite strong. The finish will come in no time. 99k Checkpoint. 7PM
Nope. After about 10k of making good progress in the mud and watching Jany nearly run into a goat we entered a dry river bed full of rocks. Actually it was not dry as it had started pissing it down again and we were sliding all over the place and had to slow to a walk and stagger. It was dark and we could not really see much around us except the walls of what once could have been a river. This is probably not the most scenic part of the race and there was a feeling of being trapped.
The path went on and on as we slowly staggered forward, kicking rocks and feeling the occasional sharp one go into my blistered feet. Jany and I had done well to stay in good spirits throughout the race but we both fell silent in this stage, this was no fun at all. Switchback after switchback meant that we had no idea how far we had to go or had travelled. Jany fell a few times. The rain came down harder and threatened to make this a river again. Gemma texted me to say that Marky had finished and was currently wrapped up warm in my clothes. For the first time I was just wishing this whole thing was over and wanted to be wrapped up in my warm clothes.
Every now and then there were some lights up ahead and I said that it could be a checkpoint, surely there must be one soon that marks the 10k to go point. It never was, the light would just be a house or a farmhuose or something. I thought this would be how it as for the rest of the race and that it would take till 30 hours to complete. I told Jany that if we are not at the next CP by 9.30 we can kiss goodbye to 24 hours. Paranoia hits you like that when you feel you have such a long way to go and don't appear to be making any progress. You start thinking and seeing things that not there and thinking up problems that don't exist. I thought my uterus was going to fall out.
Gemma texted me to say that the last 10k were mostly on tarmac and lots of downhill which meant we could still make it. We arrived at the CP at 10, giving us 2 hours to do the last 10k which was possible if it were on road. The guy there said it was actually only 8k to the finish which now made it sound like a breeze. However true to form this "downhill tarmac" was actually mostly uphill mud.
We agreed to run anything that was flat or down, even if it was only a few yards. We did this but soon found ourselves wading up in the mud again. Still, 8k in 2 hours is not much wuicker than we had been going over the really hard parts and now at least that river bed was behind us.
The last few K seem to wind through peoples back gardens and you have to be on the ball with the arrows. We went wrong a couple of times by sticking to the roads when in fact we should be in the mud. Around halfway in to the last section we could hear the finish, back down on the beach where we registered the day before. We could see the beach we were going to finish at but frustratingly the route kept turning back away from it. I considered just making a straight path to the beach which would have probably invovled jumping off a cliff. Finally on a bit of downhill tarmac there was a painted sign that said "3k to go", then we started some proper running again.
2k to go, 1k to go, seemed to take longer still but we did not care. Soon we were met by people pointing us into a finish shoot which involved running around the finish and then back round and up a ramp. The ramp was easy and we pegged it up to finish this off. 23 hours and 44 minutes.
That was the hardest 24 hours of running I have done. The torment and frustration of putting in so much effort and not going very far was incredible. I don't even need to do this kind of thing in preparation for the Trans US (a slightly bigger country than Gran Canaria) but was very happy to have done it. There was an all you can eat buffet at the end as well as beer. I manage a bottle in the 16 minutes that remained of my birthday and then staggered back to the taxi stop to get a cab home.
Though my legs did not feel too bad during the race I could not walk for 2 days, that's as bad as I remember being after a race since my first Spartathlon.
Update on 2011-03-18 10:44 by James Adams
Video of the elites. Much better camera work than mine but no footage of anyone falling over.
Well this weekend was supposed to be a nice 50 miler around the flattish Norfolk Poppyline run. However a combination of moving house, a friends leaving drinks and general can't-be-arsed-to-get-up-at-4-in-the-morning led to me ditching that and staying at home instead.
Perhaps I could say I was being sensible. I mean I do have an operation in 2 weeks time.
And a 123k race in 1 week.
So instead I signed up to a couple of much shorter races. I am thinking it is a good idea to do a load of shorter faster runs instead of always plodding the slow miles in preperation for the States. Plus it's nice sometimes to feel like you are actually running fast. All relative of course.
First up was the North of the Thames Cross Country RaceThat's not me.
On arrival at the NOTT XC in Kingsbury I found that my name was not actually on the list of runners which was odd because I signed up. There were a few signed up who were not coming so I could take one of their places however it was important not to give me the number of someone really fast in case I disgraced their name. Not sure who I ran as in the end, whoever is the slowest.
I was already very muddy as the fields were waterlogged and we watched the girls come round past where we were gathered. There was loads of space between the 20 odd runners who were in the race, it was quite low key. Fiona and Teresa came through looking like they had enjoyed a good roll around in the mud and were quite close to the leaders.
The race itself was easy. The men had one "small" lap of 2k then 2 of 3k. It did not feel even that far. I stuck to Frasier who was faster than me just to try and push myself a bit. The first lap was crowded but it spaced out and I had quite a good run of it for the next 2 and ran up what XC runners call a "hill". It was not really a hill.
In places it was almost as muddy as the nationals but I was really enjoying it and constantly bearing down of Frasier with my loud plodding and heavy breath. He must have thought a cow was chasing him. After a slow start I managed to hold my own in the next two laps and gradually creep up the field.
My time was 34.22 for the 5 miles which is much faster than I thought and not far off what I'd do a road 5 miles in. I reckon it was a bit short. That is a massive XC PB.
At the ceremony everyone (except me) seemed to get a prize. Fiona got 2nd female, Teresa 3rd Female and 2nd Vet. The Girls team won the "4 to score". The mens team did not win any of the 4 to score, 6 to score, 8 to score or 12 to score (prizes for 1st, 2nd, 3rd in all - I think there were more medals than runners). It was just like end of school year where in a crowded room for an hour I regretted being a lazy distuptive shite all year while everyone else got layers with shiny stuff like Mr T.
Sunday was a glorious morning and a few days before I found out about the Harrow Hill Race. It was 6 miles, it was a race, in Harrow and yes it had a hill. I have never done a 6 mile race before and was definitely on for a PB.
It was bereft of Serpies as the club championship half marathon was taking place in Tonbridge that day. When I first arrived there was a noticalble older demographic there of people who have done the race 10 times before. I overheard one conversation which included "I don't bother using vasaline anymore, nowadays nothing ever moves fast enough to cause any friction". Nice.
We gathered at the start line and everyone kept on moving back to avoid starting first. This race has an added quirk of awarding a "King and Queen of the Hill" award to the first man and woman to reach the top of the hill at about half a mile. The only other condition is that you must finish the race. I was no where near the front obviously but I managed to stay ahead of the first woman and declare myself (quietly) "Queen of the Hill". Then about 20 meters later she overtook me and cruised off into the distance. A great deal at half way
Basically the race is 2 laps. Uphill for the first mile, then down for the second and then up and down a bit for the third then repeat. Most of it is along pavements through Harrow and the roads are not closed but there is hardly anything around. After a mile I settled into a comfortable pace. I was expecting a time similar to a 10k on flat which nowadays for me would be about 40 if I was smashing it. I came in in just over 42 having screwed up the sprint finish (I sprinted towards where we started from but then discovered that the end was about another 100m along and up a hill). Problem with short races is that you can not walk up a hill ever.
I got a medal and thought this may be the shortest race I have ever got a medal for. Makes up for yesterday when on average everyone got 1.37 medals and I got none.
Not a bad weekend of running. I managed to complete 2 races at pace faster than Sharmans 100 mile pace. Really really looking forward to Gran Canaria next week.
It's been a strange couple of weeks for me. Coming off the back of a 365 mile January I was still feeling pretty good and was looking forward to completing the Enigma Quadzilla, 4 marathon in 4 days and then I was going to take it easy for a few weeks. However on the second day of the quadzilla disaster seemed to strike that looked to unravel (literally) my plans for the summer.
It actually started a week before at the Thames Trot. Well, actually it started about 8 years ago just days before I was running "The Marathon" in 2003, only my second marathon and in those days 26.2 miles was a big deal. Suffering from a bit of man flu along the river I was coughing quite a lot but one time near the end I felt a bulge in my groin as I coughed. Much as I love ultra marathons I rarely get a bulge in my shorts when running so this was something to pay attention to. My immediate reaction was "hello, I remember you" and thought back to 8 years ago when I had a hernia. Bollocks.
I ignored it for the remainder of the race and it seemed fine when I ran the following thursday in the first of the Enigma Marathons. I ran an easy 3.33 and felt quite good that I can do that kind of pace and not feel like I have exerted myself and was ready to do it again the next day. However that night I had a constant nagging ache that kept me up. It was not pain as such but felt like an organ was gently pressing against my skin requesting permission to leave.
I got to the second marathon but as soon as I started I was reminded of the nagging with every step. I get this quite a lot and the groin is a problem area for me but a little stretching and not letting it consume my mind usually sorts it out. However this was here to stay and although I was still running quite well and just as fast as yesterday I decided that I was not going to be able to enjoy a single step of this marathon today so after 9 miles I stopped and made an appointment to see my GP.
Can you see the bulge?I was hoping it was all in my head. I get plenty of groin strains but I recall the distinct feeling of organs trying to escape. I remember 8 years ago as I went to my doctor in Manchester. I knew pretty much that I had a hernia (my housemate was a doctor and he had a feel. Not sure what the other housemates would have said if they caught him with his hand down my pants). Anyway I went to the doctor and on pulling my pants down she (it would be a she wouldn't it?) said that she could barely see anything. "NOT THAT", I said "Look for the Hernia". No I didn't actually and I didn't even think it. She said "take it easy for a while. And good luck in the Marathon". The Marathon was only 5 days later, and it went fine. 3.57, stonking PB.
On pulling my pants down (to another lady) I really wanted to hear those words again "I can't see anything". On doing so and a lot of carefully timed coughing she confirmed that there was something there and was ready to refer me to a consultant. I arranged an appointment with a consultant a few days later who actually thought I had one on both sides and suggested I had ultrasound. Double bollocks.
Hernias are no big deal really. I got some messages saying that I could carry on as normal and that it really should not bother me. This was encouraging. I thought I could just carry on and when the time came to have the op they would just use a coathanger or something and pop it all back in. If I can get an op long before I set out to the States then that would be great. I am confident that even if I did not get a chance to run between now and then I could still finish the race.
On Thursday (less than a week after finding it) I had an appointment with the ultrasound person and for the third time in a week I was pulling my trousers in front of a complete stranger. I had become so comfortable with doing this that I just pulled them all the way down and the old chap (the doctor) looked embarrassed and said they didn't need to go down that far. He then covered my groin in grease and started the scanning of my nether regions while asking me to push "like I was having a baby". How the hell would I know how to do that? Those (men) who claim that giving birth is just like taking a big dump usually get more than a frown from any mother in earshot.
So for the first time in my life I tried to push my stomach through my scrotum so that he could see the strain on his screen. It did not look like much, he even turned the screen towards me so that I could see but it was just a swirling mess of white candy floss. Is it a boy or a girl? I asked. The Doc obviously heard that one a million times. In fact no amount of pushing could really produce anything and he concluded that I had no hernia (though I should wait for the final analysis) at all and if anything only a sprain on the right hand side. That was a relief though I did feel a bit like a drama queen.
So the following week I went back to the consultant where I expected a dressing down for time wasting when in fact he said that there was a hernia on the right side and he recommended getting it fixed. Doh. It looks something like this
He got his diary out and suggested some dates for my Latrosopic Hernia Repair. Basically they poke 2 holes in me, stick in a balloon, blow it up, poke some cameras in and push the organs back where they belong and then put in a mesh. I will be in and out within a day and apparently back to normal within weeks. My operation is on the 12th.
It does not mess my plans up too much. I still intend to run the Trans Gran Canaria race on my birthday on the 5th March (I will probably spend my entire birthday running, how cool is that?). I have had to cancel the Git Pit Marathons on the 12/13th which I was looking forward to. I wanted to run the Orion 15 the week later and then the Eco Trail 50 the week after that. Hopefully I still can do both but will have to see.
All in all I am not too worried and am pleased that I can get this sorted long before I head out to the States.
This is the second time part of my digestive system has tried to escape my body. Perhaps it is telling me something?
It was a long coach ride up from London to Staffordshire for the National Cross Country Championships. This was only my second XC race of the season despite making a pledge to do more. The 40 odds Serpies on the bus seemed nervous, particularly as we passed the Watford Gap where a bout of incontinence struck everyone and caused us to have to stop in 2 service stations. We don't go up norf that often.
It was raining all the way up, prompting conversations about 12mm or 15mm. At first I thought it was triathletes talking about their dicks but later realised that they were talking about length of spikes. I had no idea. I listened to about 5 different theories of mud but all of this would be of no use since I didn't have any spikes. I was wearing my imacculately clean Serpie coloured Walsh fell shoes.
On arrival we were presented with a huge field of mud on which to pitch our stand. It was just like Glastonbury except there were a lot less beards. All the other running clubs had tents and ground mats whereas we had just a flag sticking out of the ground and a lot of clean shoes. No one would have guessed that we were the biggest running club in the country.
I think that cross country running seems to be stuck in the 50's. The women run less distance than the men. 6k vs 8k in normal races and then 8k vs 12k in this race. In the distances I do I am used to running alongside women who have to complete the same distances and will often comfortably beat the men. I can understand the seperation of races (for crowding reasons) but not of distance and a lot of youngsters get into running this way and will think that this is normal. I am sure that I am not the first person to complain about this, I suspect that most of the women fell the same way. Or perhaps they are not worrying their pretty little heads about it?
There were lots of races before ours and we were told that due to some mud that the races were going to be cut short which was a massive disappointment to everyone. I had already broken my rule of not spending longer travelling to a race than it takes to complete (6 hours driving for 1 hour running??) and was very aware that the shorter they made the race the more likely it was that I would be last.
We watched the girls race before us, they had their 8k shorted to 6k and this consisted of 3 short laps of 2k and there was no hill. We stood and clapped as girls in various states of exhaution tried to compete with the terrain. It looked like really hard work and occassionally you spotted a girl with mud all over her face who had stacked it ealier. I tried not to laugh but it is hard.
It was the widest start line I have ever been on. I was too fat to get anywhere near the front and was happy to start at the back. We had been told that we'd be running 10k and that was going to be one short lap of 2k and 2 long laps of 4k which includes "the hill". The gun went and like greyhounds (and labradors) we all squeezed into a narrower stream of mud churners and ran towards the crest of a small incline.
Not long in I bumped into Stuart Shiperly and chatted to him for a bit. It didn't really seem like the sort of race that you should be chatting in and everyone seemed quite serious. I pushed on after the first 2k lap, some of the sloppy inclines were really hard going. There was not a huge amount of space and people would run zig-zagged and get in the way quite a lot. I ran up every hill and often bumped into someone who suddenly decided to stop and walk.
The 2nd lap involved passing the start again and going down into a very large puddle, around some grassy areas and then up the "big hill". It wasn't really that big and in fact it was easier than much of the rest of the course because it had not been cut up by other races as it was left out of them. It's a shame the girls were not allowed to do this as they would have really enjoyed it and it would have churned it up for us and made it a proper mud chute. I loved the idea of people slipping on their arses and slidding back down the hill.
One more big lap and I was done. I was really impressed with my choice of footwear and would recommend them for this kind of thing. At no point did I lose any traction and unlike long spikes (apparently) it does not hurt to run on harder ground. I finished in the top 64.363% which is exactly what I was aiming for. 53 minutes to do a 10k. I've done slower.
It was an awesome weekend where the Serpie girls took bronze and the Men's were 12th (I think). The girls results were the best national ranking ever. The good thing about being nearly last is that you don't have to hang around for long at the end, they all have to wait for you. We got on the coach covered in mud and headed to Derby for a night out with the Shire folk. We eventually found a really nice pub but not before walking through the centre of Derby and being horrified by the lack of clothes on it's ladies. Take back what I said earlier, I think the women really do prefer it shorter.
Another productive morning where I thought I'd recreate the conversation I'd often have on a Monday morning at work while I try to explain why I prefer spending my weekends outdoors rather that watching a TV box set.
It occured to me that runners need to have a special greeting when meeting at the start of races to avoid that uncomfortable moment where a warm and greasy hand meets another warm and greasy hand. Invariably about 5 seconds after you have used your digits to apply lubrication to low hanging moving parts about 6 people will want to shake hands with you. This was about the 6th race of the year and we are all so familiar that there is no shame in it anymore. But in needs to stop and be replaced by something more hygenic. Any suggestions on how to get round this problem then let me know. "Run all the way with you??? HA HA HA HA HA"
2nd week in a row I was doing a new race, the Thames Trot. One that I decided not to do 2 years ago purely because I thought the name was too silly but I have since got over that. There were the usual suspects present, Mark, Rob, Smelly, Trin. A couple of guys I had not seen in a while were there too, Matt Mahoney who I met in the MDS and who is doing Spartathlon this year and Neil Bryant who I met in the Spartathlon and is doing the Spartathlon this year. Nicole Brown was there too, not seen her for ages but can usually still hear her.
The forecast promised an unspecified chance of probable rain. It looked quite grey to start with and was quite mild. I decided to only take a bottle belt with me this time as my arms were aching form being slashed by bags recently.
My chatting with Neil and ROb lasted about as long as it took to realise that I could not talk and breathe while running at their pace. They ran on through the muddy fields of the ruver path. I have not been this far up the river before (that's not a metaphor). I have ran a couple of times into London from Reading but have not been as far as Oxford. It seems the further you go out the muddier the path is. It was hard work again plodding through the soff ground but at least it wasn't like last week. What is harder to run on? Molehills or Mountains?
I ran with Mark till just after the first CP where he seemed to slow. He had just run 201k in a 24 hour track race last week so I could understand why he might be a bit slower than normal. I pushed on through the mud. Along the way I bumped into more people I knew by face but not name and we all did our Troy Maclure impressions as usual. "Hi I'm James Adams, you may remember me from such Ultra Marathons as the Ultra Race 90 and the washed out diet UTMB". I ran a little with a chap called Cliff who was much faster than I was and seemed to want to drag me up hills. Yes there were hills on the Thames Path.
I did the Thames Trot instead of the Pilgrims Challenge that I enjoyed so much last yeat just because I wanted to do different things. I can't complain that there is too much on now but it is quite difficult chosing between events now. I decided to help out at the second day of the Pilgrims tomorrow though and it would be great to see Gemma who was running plus a lot of other friends.
Around half way the river cuts through the Ridgeway path that I am a little familiar with from the Druids Challenge. On a flat section of river it's quite nice to be surrounded either side by some beautiful chalk hills and you could actually see the path by the river becoming chalky. I'm not much of a geologist but I thought that was pretty cool. The third checkpoint was the checkpoint of my dreams, sausage rolls, pork pies, cake, crisps and drinks. I took a photo but forgot to eat all of it. Most of the others had sweets and drinks including energy powder which I filled up with at all 6 CP's.
I couldn't be arsed really, I had no problems as such I just didn't feel like putting much effort in. I started to run with the leading ladies at around half way but spent a lot of my time walking and taking photos and facebooking. The legs were not really in it today, even when the energy sapping mud of the first half gave way to some much nicer running path and road at times. I asked if we we had done a marathon yet and was told we had done 32 miles. At least it wasn't dragging. I can't really explain why I was not into it and am not too worried by it. It was still a fantastic event. This is why I run
Later on I had to stop and stretch a couple of times but managed to keep up a shuffle and navigate my way to the finish. There was a bit of map reading towards the end as I was unsure whether I was running on river path or someones back garden, some of the people around here have far too much money. Who needs a railway in their back garden? With a station?
The end came in around 8 hours, not bad for what felt fairly gentle. Neil and Rob had finished an hour before and Mark and Claire came in about 10 minutes later. Richard Taylor finished under 9 in his first race over a marathon and Matt Mahoney also blitzed it sub 7. I then went about my epic train journey to Merstham to get to the start of the Pilgrims Challenge that I was helping out on while trying to keep up with the Rocky Racoon 100 that had not long started in Texas. First update was that Ian Sharman had run the first 2 laps (40 miles) in 4.56 and was in first place by about 8 minutes in a field that included Scott Jurek, Anton Kuprica, Karl Meltzer and Zack Gingerich. Brave or stupid?
I was regretting taking so many photos in the race as my battery was dying but had to keep up with the race. The times of each lap came back. 60 miles in 7.26, 80 in 10.04. He was not slowing down and with each lap he was gaining on the elite field. Tired and with a busy day ahead I could not go to sleep until about 1am where the final result came in that Ian had finished in 12.44, a course record and half an hour faster than Anton, averaging 7.38 minute miles and getting very close to a 100 mile trail world record. Made we wish I had gone a bit faster today. The path gets better...
The Pilgrims race was brilliant. I was helping on CP 1 and CP 2. It was quite windy and standing around for hours is actually quite hard work. It is great sometimes to be on the other side of running events. Overall it was a great weekend and a very eventful one for UK ultra-running. There will be plenty more of those to come, but I now have a drought of 3 weeks without an ultra marathon. Still, the 4 marathons I have later this week might help with that craving.
"Yorkshire Portions" are a warning they put on food up norf to prevent you from biting off more than you can chew. I ordered a "regular" fish and chips the night before the race and that was more than enough for me. Back in London I would have defintely ordered the large and an extra side of onion rings and still had room left over for a cheesecake at the end.
It would appear that the same warnings are needed for their running events too. On arriving at Whitby just north of the North Yorkshire Moors Gemma was badgering me about when to book dinner later that evening. It's 50 miles so on a good day that could be around 8 hours but if it's hard then it could be 12. I was joking about it taking 12 hours but on reflection I should have realised that it's only 50% extra, just like all the food they serve. The Easy bit
I signed up for the Frostbite 50 around the time when temperatures of -17C were being recorded up here and I wanted to know what proper cold felt like. The Moors are another place in the UK that shamefully I had yet to visit and a 50 mile race seemed like the perfect excuse for the long drive up to Whitby. This was a new "test" event for an new Ultra Marathon organising outfit in the UK called AdventureHub. They were very well organised, they even supplied the race briefing in Powerpoint format. That was the best Powerpoint presentation I have seem since my friends plan of his attempt on the Bob Graham Round next year (I am the fat one with a beer). There were only 50 places in total for this event and it was not advertised much as they wanted to trial it with a smaller number to see how it goes. Always happy to be a guinea pig when it comes to running lots and lots.
The morning was really quite sppoky, I was wandering around Whitby Abbey and the graveyards in the dark trying to find the start. It was in a nearby field and those vertical banners that say "something unusual going on here" and luckily there were toilets on site open from 7.30 (remember for next year). I tried to look as northern as possible (I don't really know which one I am, I think the North vs South divide has forsaken Leicester. You have it, no you have it) by wearing shorts. All but one guy (from Leeds) was wearing tights.
The route looked quite simple on the map. Start off with around 6 miles of coastal path, then around 4 miles of disused railtrack towards the moors then a few fields. The Marathon runners (or as people like to call it the "half") would come back whereas the ultra runners would head into the moors for a 24ish mile loop. The profile did not look too hilly so I was expecting to finish before dark.
The first 6 miles are along the beautiful Cleveland Way, everything you want from a coastal path; hills, steps, stiles, streams, a decent path and stunning views. Been a while since I've been on the coast for running and I do miss it. We had "good" weather conditions and the path was quite frozen so mud was not really a problem. The Marathon started 5 minutes before us to split us up a bit and soon we were catching them. No one really went for it at the start and I settled into a group of about 8 people who were setting the pace.
Early on I was running with David Miles who has practically the same race schedule as I do. It was good to get moving and warm and before long we came off the coastal path onto some track and into checkpoint 1 just outside of Robin Hood Bay. No one stayed too long and soon we were on the old railway and a really easy running path and i got chatting to another guy and a lady. A couple of things happened that happen quite often in these races. Firstly I was chatting to a chap called Richard Webster and inevitably we get on to discussing race CV's. His talk of the 6633 and mine of Badwater caused us to look at each other and say "We met in the UTMB". We did indeed meet there, after about 16 hours of arduous mountain climbing with a hangover. Small world. We were both pretty knackered back then but funny how we remember CV's and not faces. The Cleveland way near the start (and end)
Secondly I was asking the lady about the Trans-Slovenia race (it was on her top) and she was happy to chat away about it. Not long I realised it was none other than Sharon Gayter, a UK ultra running legend and still holds the fastest time for a Brit (male or female) at Badwater. It was great to be running in such company and as she was local I tried to stick to her to avoid getting lost and exchange stories.
The nice track ended and we were running into large fields with mud and gates and animals. A few hills here and there and we could see the runners of the marathon coming back from their turnaround. They were not that far ahead really, less than 2 miles which made me think we were going a little fast. I was tempted to shout "slackers" at them as they returned but decided not to, I needed the oxygen for the hills. CP2 was bang on 13 miles and took around 2 hours. Simple extrapolation meant that even at this pace we were looking at 8 hours at best, but we had just done the easy bit. 10 hours was more likely.
Gemma had booked the fish and chips for 8.15pm. The race started at 8am so realistically I had to finish under 11 hours to be able to get back to the hotel, shower and get to the restaurant. It would have been nice to finish in good time so that I could relax a bit and do the usual routine before eating but it was not essential. If I took too long so we missed the one time in 10 years where Gemma could have gluten free batter fish and chips I would never be forgiven.
The miles on the moors were hard. Almost straight after the 2nd CP we were on them and although they are not very hilly they were really hard work to run over. A very narrow path where the mud was so frozen that it was like running on bricks. There were footprints of the last people who came here, probably weeks ago, frozen into the ground. Thick ice covered any puddle but it was not quite thick enough to stop your feet falling right through and getting an icy blast of water right up your shorts. Looks refreshing when it's in some silly vitamin water advert but not on the freezing Yorkshire Moors.
It's amazing hwo quickly you can feel like you are in the wilderness. I was on an A road about an hour ago and now all I could see for miles was the harsh terrain and thick heathers that looked dead. I like to think about where I'd shelter or seek refuge in the event of an emergency and there was nowhere here to do that, no trees or large rocks or buildings to shelter near. I can fully understand why there was a more significant kit list than usually in a 50 miler. The paths seemed to go on indefinitely and I could still see all the runners ahead of me, including the leader who was over a mile away. It was like the never ending path in the Labyrinth (the film that you wonder how your parents allowed you to watch given how tight David Bowie's tights were). In the film I recall there was a snail to tell her that she could just walk through the walls and get to where she needed to be. There was no snail here though or even a wall, just miles of nothing.
This was the path we had to run on for miles and milesI worried about the fish and chips. The 3rd CP would not arrive and I send word that I was not even at 20 miles yet, 4.30 hours in. Alas it did come and I said to the marshall "please don't tell me this is 20 miles or something". In fact it was more like 24. Nearly half way in under 5 hours. Phew, I might make it to the ball.
The Checkpoints were quite well loaded with stuff. Tea, coffee, soup, energy drink and water. Biscuits, sweets, pretzels and bread. You are supposed to carry enough food with you to "last the night" in the event of an emergency. I think you'd freeze to death before starving. I lost Sharon at CP3 who ran straight through whereas I caught up to David, Richard and another chap called Charles as I arrived at the CP. I stopped to get some soup and they marched on. I planned to keep them in sight as I did not know what page of the map we were on anymore, I was just following a line of people. Then I caught up to them at a junction were were not supposed to be at. We had gone too far and were off the maps we had been given which meant that we had to get the OS map out (1 of the 4 of us had one despite this being a compulsary item too). It took a while for us to figure out where we were and a detour through someones back garden and we were back on track.
After what was many hours the 4 of us ran together through some wonderful woods and into CP 4 where we found that the leaders were now about 40 minutes ahead. That diversion had cost us a bit of time and making the Fish and Chips seem less likely. If were were near the front and still likely to finish in the dark then what about everyone else? I wouldn't fancy being out on these moors in the dark, it's hard enough finding where you are in the light.
We hung around at the CP for a while before heading up what was the biggest climb of the run into somemore frostbitten fields of nothingness. We were supposed to follow the outside of a small forest and continue along the harsh track through the Heather. It was cooling down a fair bit so we tried to keep moving. I was really looking forward to the return to the familiar 13 mile stretch that would take us back home. CP5 was the same as CP2 only now had a lot more food at it. The guys there reminded me of my Fish and Chips appointment at 8.15 and that I would "probably" make it. It was starting to get dark and I didn't want to put on my head torch until I absolutely needed to.
We got lost again and went too far along some paths in the field and didn't really know where we were but knew we were now headed towards Robin Hood bay which we could see lit up in the fading light. Not sure whether we would end up arriving at the end of a cliff we cut across the moors to try to find a path that would lead us back to the bay. A bit of scrambling and then some road found us back onto the railtrack. Down the railtrack which became pitch black as it is covered by trees and it was a cloudy day.
We were running this race in "good" conditions. There was no wind, no rain, the temperature was cold but not as cold as it could have been. I was finding it much harder work than the Rotherham 50 in hideous condtions a few years back without really being able to figure out why. We got lost a little and I think added about 3 miles onto the 50, however it didn't feel like we should be going this slowly. It was the first time for a long time that I had run in the dark and it became harder. The ground beneath us was now fairly even but what was previously covered in ice had now defrosted and turned to mud, which made the plodding heavy. The 4 of us were the only ones for miles trecking along the coastline towards lighthouses in the distance.
Last CP, when I arrived one of the marshalls sprung into life to text Gemma that I was here and that dinner might still happen. It was about 6pm now, I had about 1.30 hours max to make it to the end, otherwise I'd have to have a wet-wipe shower. I wasn't too bothered my that, Ultra-runners are not too bothered by showers though I suspect Gemma would protest. This race was all about me getting to the Magpie Cafe on time. and miles and miles and miles
The last section was slow too as it was muddier than the start and made the hills hard work. Plus the darkness. With a slow plod we finally saw the ancient ruins of the old Whitby Abbey and then the car park and field of the finish. David, Richard, Charlie and I all crossed the line in joint 4th in about 11.30 hours, at 7.30, giving me 45 minutes to get back, shower and head for the food. Did I mention that? The winner did about 2 hours faster than us.
This really was a tough but most enjoyable race. Whitby and the Moors are great and definitely will consider coming back next year. I think the entry should be extended, it would probably have been easier for everyone if there were more people out on the moors, more people to read maps. There was a 14 hour cut-off which must have pushed a lot of people out though the marshalls were keen on staying behind and wanting everyone to finish. I don't know what the finish rates are at this point as they have not been released.
45 miles on a Saturday and then again on a Sunday? This is all getting a bit routine. Well that is exactly what I want. In 5 months now (less than in fact) I need to be doing this without really thinking about it. I did it once last weekend and that was fine, let's see if I can step up to twice in two days.
Day 1
We had taken over the lobby of the Park Inn hotel in Northampton while Rory Coleman read out the fairly simple instructions for the race. Leave the hotel, turn right then head down to the canal, fairly easily. But just like last year those in front went straight ahead again and had to be shouted back onto the correct street.
The first mile is downhill through the busy streets of Northampton where we were nearly run over by a bus. The next 5 are on the Northampton arm of the Grand Union Canal and then it joins the main canal and head about 40 miles down to Tring. It's a route I've done quite a few times and the familiarity can make it more comfortable. Right now I am signing up to as many 50ish mile races as I can to get the practise at doing the distance. As soon as this becomes "easy" I will feel much better about the summer.
After the initial diversion we all made it to the canal alive and set off at quite an uncomfortable pace. There were 2 guys ahead who seemed intent of getting to Tring first whereas we settled into a second group but still going at quite a pace. Mark was insisting that the guy in the lead was Bob Brown, UK winner of the Trans USA race in 2004. "I was hoping he was a slow ultra shuffler like us". It would have been good to have run with him but if he is that fast then we would not be able to talk. It wasn't Bob after all but some German who was very fast at running.
For the second week running I was in a group with Mark C, Rob Treadwell and David Miles and this time Claire Shelley had joined us. I suggested to her that she should start a little faster so that she did not get caught up in the crowds early on (not really a problem in this race). She took this to mean she should run on ahead at great speeds and beast the lot of us.The Torture Stick - My camera phone broke so I can't get any proper photos but I figure I have enough photos of canals on here already
First Checkpoint was about 9 miles in and were were there in under 1.10. Way too fast. We had come off the canal for the Blissworth tunnel and telling Claire to watch out for this minor diversion for the GUCR later in the year. Back onto the canal and through the lovely Stoke Bruene where you inevitably get into a conversation about "where are you running to and where did you start?" It's hard to do more than just shout one word as you are running past. It's fun to see peoples reactions when you tell them how far you are going. It's funnier when it's London you are running to and you are still in the Midlands.
There are a couple of confusing bridge crossings in the race. It's no big dea if you go wrong as you will soon come to a dead end and see your mistake. Mark and I were running a bit further back from CLaire, Rob and David who made such a mistake. They crossed a bridge that they were not supposed to and we carried on, crossing a road and onto the path again. Mark decided against telling them and let them go wrong :) It meant we could have a bit of a breather and perhaps it will stick in Claire's mind more when she comes back here in May. We only had her best interests at heart. Honestly.
The pace slowed after around the marathon stage which was good as I really did not want to spank myself on the first day too much only to not be able to walk the next day. It's hard to guage how hard you shoudl go on a two day event such as this and I reckon you should not go too easy, give it 90% or something. There is a balance between going fast and having more recovery time and going slow and having less. Plus more hours on your feet can be more damaging. Speaking to Rob he suggested that in training I should try and run these kinds of races as well as I can rather than going for a deliberate 4 mile an hour plod. I can't imagine keeping this going for 70 days.
With about 10 to go Mark shot off, I think he mentioned something about the Tesco in Leighton Buzzard being a psychological lift and as soon as he saw that he was off. Claire was in hot pursuit but I warned her against really going for it as Mark was wimping out of the second day whereas we had to run again tomorrow. Mark has a 24 hour track race around a 390m indoor track in Finland next week so can perhaps forgive him for not running back up the canal on sunday. Mark finished in 3rd.
We slowed quite a bit towards the end but still passed a few people who had also set out too fast. I was trying badly to guess how far we had to go using the canal markers. The mile markers were from Braunstone Locks which is 44 miles into the GUCR from Birmingham. I knew Tring was 100 miles into the GUCR so all I had to do for each mile marker was to subtract the 44 from 100, then deduct whatever the mile post would say and that is how far we have left (plus another couple of miles). Who needs a Garmin?.
After the Grand Junction Arms pub in Tring (and the milestone with 56 on it) I knew there was a further 2 miles to go and when this finally came Claire sprung back into life and became a dot in the distance. She managed to not even get lost in the final road sections of the run and into the Pendley Manor for the finish. 7.14 and Claire was the first girl.
Recovery Time
This bit is going to be the most important when I head to the States in the Summer. The hours between finishing on one day and starting another are going to be as important as the running itself. I might not get much time to do this. The normal thing I would do after this is to slump into a chair in a bar and start drinking and eating crap. I figured this is a great opportunity to start practicing a recovery "routine" which this time involved a lot of protien (Pepparami and milkshakes), stretching and rubbing myself all over the legs with one of these evil sticks.
I found it hard to sleep despite not having much sleep the night before and having run 47 miles. It's stange because there were times where I felt like I could have gone to sleep during the run, cerainly before the run too. Perhaps I should include powernapping into my race strategy?
Whatever I did seemed to work because I woke up feeling mostly fine (though a little tired still) and ready to tackle another 45(47) miles.
Day 2
There were supposed to be 80 people at the start today but I think it ended up being half of that. Quite a few only intended to do the 1 day but then quite a few decide not to start the second. This time last year I was in the DNS day 2 camp and sadly watched all the runners leave at this time. I was very glad to be a the start in shorts this time.
I was even more glad to spot Bob Brown before we set off. He was not the guy Mark pointed out the day before. It was great to talk to him and I badgered him for as much advice as I could when we ran together for a bit. The man who ran across America and has won the GUCR while sponsored by Ginsters was telling me everything I wanted to hear. It was great. Some gems included;
These runs are perfect training for this and doing as many 50ish milers at weekends is great
You get fitter and faster as the race progresses
Most of those who drop out do so in the first 2 weeks so take it easy then
Get sponsorship from local companies (as he did with Ginsters). Perhaps I should try to play on my Leicester roots and get sponsored by Crisps, Pork Pies and Orange Cheese?
Only a month after finishing in New York he went to Dublin, had 24 pints of Guinness in the 2 days before the Marathon and then set a pb. And it felt easy.
It was a joy talking to him and he is such an understated guy. I imagined he might appear with some sort of fanfare about his comprehensive list of achievements but there is none of that, he remained invisible for most of the weekend. Really pleased to meet and speak to him and said that I will see him in the GUCR later in the year. It's going to be an awesome race, Pat Robbins will have his work cut out as Rob Treadwell looks in great form. I have not decided yet what I am going to do when get there yet, either crew for someone or help in the race. I might even be able to drive by then.
Anyhoo Claire was suffering a bit due to the exertions from yesterday and I was more than happy to run walk the race as I was in no rush. We were still doing a good pace, around 8ish hours and the only thing that was important was that we did not miss our train. If we had time to go to Nandos in Northampton at the end that would be a bonus.
It did feel a little odd running up the canal a different way, kind of fresh but still familiar. The 2nd placed lady had passed us early in the race and we assumed she'd finish way ahead. In fact she onyl finished around 10 minutes before us so she must have slowed a lot too. I was running ahead of Claire and then I'd start walking when I could not see her anymore. She kept telling me to go on but I was worried about her getting lost and going to Birmingham or something. While we were running we were actually running quite fast and quite well. There were plenty of walking breaks but the majority of the runners today have deliberate walking breaks and we were still passing people quite often. Food of champions.
The checkpoints were all in the same places as the day before and stocked with magic flapjacks that worked wonders. There was a minor diversion for a fishing contest. There are so many fishermen trying to fish things out of the canal, I can't imagine anything being able to live in there. I bet there is one fish and all of the 40 or so fishermen are trying to catch that one fish and be the winner. There was also some posh people dressed as idiots doing some hare coursing (I thought that was illegal?) and the hare ended up running into the water. The strange and pointless hobbies some people have. I had plenty of time to think about this as I continued my 47 mile sloppy run up a canal towpath.
Claire was doing brilliantly to hang in there and still maintain a good pace. At Stoke Bruerne and just before the next checkpoint we were met by Drew who (on reading my facebook update about Ginsters) gave me a Pasty. "Don't worry, it only cost me 15p because it was out of date". I destroyed it while walking up the hill to the CP. Back onto the road and then canal again and then a run into Northampton.
It was hardly like running into Paris or London or Athens or Chamonix. It was hard to figure out where Northampton starts and the green fields with the occasional factory ends. We were looking out for a Calsberg Brewery which was the point at which we turned off into the streets and headed back to the hotel. Near the end Drew popped up again with Jo (who ran an amazinf 37 minute 10k that morning) and then later Mark and Alex appeared.
With no major traffic incidents we headed up to the hotel and finished in 8.30. Under 16 hours for the 2 days is pretty good going. Claire won overall for the 2 days and was 2nd on day to and got given another trophy to take home. She did not have much space in her bag with the hair straightners she carries everywhere. I headed towards the shower (yes, breaking the ultra-runners code that we should be stinky and muddy at all times) and on the way saw Bob again sinking a pint of Guinness. I did the same and saw Trin come in with another great run.
Great event from Rory and Jen. This is part of a championship where you can score points and all that. Rory asked if I was going to be at the London Ultra in a month or so and I said I couldn't because I have a 12k to run. Seems like a silly excuse but it is the National Cross Country Championships. I have a good chance of coming last.
We had more than enough time to go to Nandos which was great. My legs stilll felt in good shape and this along with the conversations with Bob has given me more confidence about the summer. I just need to repeat this weekend another 34 times...
Not the muddiest fieldIt seemed fitting to do my "100th Marathon" somewhere like this. It was the closest race to my first proper ultra back in 2007, when I did not know anyone at the startline and there was a real sense of not knowing what was going to happen. 4 years on I've done a few of these things and now the main concern was finishing in good enough time to get some good drinking done in the pub. I chose this as the 100 as it was local, involved canal, was as close as I could get to my first ultra and thought it was my best bet of getting a load of friends along to join me (either running or drinking) on a winter Saturday afternoon. I managed to balls up the numbers though and this was actually my 101st. I accidentally did a marathon a couple of weeks ago cos I was bored (I'm a bit clumsy like that). Still, those who were signed up couldn't back out now.
I've come to know quite a few people who do this kind of thing now too. It's great to know that I can turn up to these things and always know loads of the people there, just like walking into the Wargrave Arms on a Wednesday night or in the Subway on Tottenham Court Road any day of the week. It was hard to move without getting involved in a conversation, so much so that I never made it to the pile of bacon sandwiches at the back of the pub we were all gathered in. I had banked on having one of those before the start. This could be catastrophic.
The race started a bit late because about 50 people came up from London on a train that got there about 10 minutes before the start. The train was full of runners, I've never seen such a thing outside of Switzerland. There were the usual looks of suspicion from the "normal" people wondering why so many men and women in skin tight black clothing with pipes sticking out of their bags were shamelessly lubricating themselves in the vestibules of the 7.27 from Marylebone. That is a proper posh train station too, it's the only terminal station in London that does not have a Burger King in.
It was around 8 degrees and wet underfoot but not raining. We were told that these were the best conditions the race has ever been run in. I recall last year the drizzle at the start (that turned into rain) and the snow covered paths and icy water you could not help but wade through. The start was the usual, everyone setting out like it was a 10k. All of the pre-race agreements of "I'll run with you or try to keep you in sight etc etc" quickly disappeared as everyone fled like rabbits fleeing from a gunshot. I ran on ahead a little bit to join the madness. It can be helpful to shoot out at the start if it means having to queue less at the stiles early on. Still, it leaves you panting like a fat sweaty asthmatic just 1 mile into an ultra.
I tried to keep Drew in sight who I think was determined to beat Claire and setting out fast. He had also cheated the week before by recceing the course. Reccing IS CHEATING. I'll make a T-Shirt. He was easy to catch cos he was walking up the hills already in his silly calf socks. I yelled at him for walking uphill already (it's only allowed when everyone else is doing it or no one is looking). Rob Westaway was in a rush to get to the canal because he loves them so much and he just ran on.
First checkpoint, no meat based snacks yet but just grabbed a couple of jelly babies and ran on, trying to keep up with the people who knew the way but I lost them in a pursuit through Chesham. Here I caught up with Natalie Vendette who missed the start of the race and started at CP1. She was debating all week about buying some fancy GPS gadget which she was wearing, telling her her heart rate, ambient temperature, blood glucose level and average pace but unfortunately these £300 devices are not advanced enough to tell you what the actual time is and therefore she missed her train.
Robert Treadwell looking at which way to go. Mark probably re-touching his makeup.I chatted to her a bit and then Rob Treadwell, David Miles and Mark Cockbain caught up and Rob was a better map reader than me so went along with them. There was another Serpie there who I didn't know but quickly discovered it was John Hudspith. Doing his first run of over 30 miles. The route got a lot muddier through the fields, we ran through a paddock with all those horse jumpy things. I cleared all the jumps whereas Mark clipped one. I really need to get onto the race organisers about that, he should get a 10 second time penalty or something. Our mucking about didn't impress a horse in the field who made a bolt for the gate as we opened it and we had to scramble over the railings to get out but keep the horse in. I laughed as I thought of that horse eating Claire Shelley later on.
CP2 is outside a pub and it would have just opened, it was about 11.15. We were making good time and looking forward to hitting the canal. The beautiful fields, trees, horses, donkeys, emus (yes emus), pretty villages and nice buildings were all getting a bit too much. I was having sensory overload that only starting at a long brown body of water could fix. Shortly before getting to the motherland we ran through Denham (very posh) and got excited about passing Roger Moore's house. I don't know exactly why I think it's Roger Moore's house, whether someone told me last year or whether I just made it up. It was massive with about 4 Rolls Royces outside.
Anyway, soon we were back on the canal, and all was good again.
We still stuck in the group of about 6 of us and headed down towards the left turning that signals only 13 miles to go. Someone always misses this every year and is hilarious for all but the person who actually does it. It seems that all Brit ultra runners are having a go at the Spartathlon this year and we discussed that a little. It's going to be great, if you are reading this and have not signed up yet then do it now. It's going to fill up. Forms are here.
45 is the magic number now. 45 is the average number of miles I have to run each day in the States. Sometimes it's more, sometimes less. I need to get myself confortable with this distance and this was feeling mostly comfortable. I don't plan on running any 45 mile stage in 7 hours when I get out there, more like 10. I was quite pleased about how I was feeling here and that I was getting stronger towards the end. Mark did point out though that we'd be doing the same again tomorrow and the next day and the next day and etc. At least there will be no mud in the States.CANAL :)
Turn left just before Toys R us and just a half marathon to go, around 2 hours. Rob was running on ahead, stopping to wait, taking photos and then running on ahead again. We passed Henk's bridge (CP 9 in the GUCR) where in the GUCR you'd be met by a sleep deprived Henk who offers his unique brand of encouragement to those who have done 133 miles and only have 12 left. There were the usual mentals who feed the geese and ducks from huge sacks of bread and they can be a challenge to fight through.
I got faster in the last 10 and lost the others. I caught back up with Rob Westaway who seemed to be enjoying the canal a lot. Drew was also just ahead looking quite feverish having consumed 16 energy gels in the race. Surely he knows that the "consume every 15 minutes" thing they put on the packet is just marketing bullshit to get you to buy more? I also passed Tim Adams about 3 miles from the end, it seemed everyone had set out too fast, or just wanted to spend more time with the canal.
I finished in 6.47, about 20 minutes quicker than last year which is promising as it might mean I am in better shape than last year (though still too fat). Mark Braley, Jon Hoo and Dave Ross were already at the finish and dressed already. I hung around to watch Tim, Drew, Rob, Rob, Mark and David finish and headed to the pub to get a few pints down me before Gemma was due to finish. She did in 8.23, about 2 hours faster than she thought she would. It was just getting dark as she, Mark Bell, Carrie Doyle, Mel Ross and Daniel (who gave me a bottle of whiskey at the start in celebration but I decided not to drink it at the start) all came in. All of them had only wonderful things to say about the canal.
Back into the pub for more drinking and Steak and chips. Then off to the other pub for even more drinking and another steak and chips. It was a great day, such a convenient finish location and made me more excited about watching the GUCR later this year. 45 miles done without too much bother. Can I do it again for another 69 days? Without Canal? Hmmmmm
This run is hard enough. 30 miles of hills and steps of the Surrey countryside. Add to the the miserable weather in the days beforehand leading to the very muddy conditions. Oh and what's that? I'm going to have to do all the instruction reading because I am running with Claire Shelley who couldn't find her way out of a car park in Portsmouth? Oh, and what's that? She has some sort of suicide bunny instinct for trying to get killed outdoors? I had my work cut out.
The sky was as blue as I have ever seen it. We've had a "bad" winter where some snow fell which caused chaos. A plane was cancelled, some people got stuck on a train and one of my Christmas cards turned up late. I am exagerating of course, I didn't get any Christmas cards. Anyway many races suffered cancellations as the usual spate of health and saftey Nazism encouraged us all to stay indoors and wait for the elders to tell us what to do while at the same time moaning at the makers of roads for not making them ice proof. Fortunately that had all blown over and it was a practically tropical 4 degrees at the start. This event was officially cancelled last year however lots of people turned up anyway to do it. I've never known a non-French ultra to surrender to the weather. The LDWA don't normally do that kind of thing. "At your own risk" is their middle name. No actually it's "Distance Walkers". But you get the idea.
Anyhoo, Winter Tanners. Turn up an a carpark in Leatherhead whenever (preferably between 7-9.30am), fill in a form and hand over a fiver and then you get given a number and a route description that in theory leads you on a beautiful circuit of Surrey before ending up in the same car park some hours later. The only things stopping us were a lot of stiles, some mud, many significant climbs and Running Induced Dyslexia. There were a few steps
I set out of the carpark with Claire, Teresa (doing her first ultra), Alex and Gemma and Jany who were both doing the 20. I ran fast at the start so as to get past the kissing gates before Gemma got there (they just slow me down). Past the Football Club where the summer Tanners starts and the Mole Barn. Pretty soon we are in the woods but are made to divert from the original route because of flooding. Luckily there is a special paragraph for that.
The run the instructions warned us of 191 steps to descend, these are the ones we go up and down twice in the Picnic Marathon (A hilariously diffficult marathon held in June every two years). Not long until we were in muddy fields and Claire was trying to get herself killed, firstly by running into an electric fence. I saw the big yellow sign "Electric Fence" seemingly suspended in mid air but obviously it was held up by a couple of electric wires. I had to yell at her to stop her running straight into them. Did she not wonder why everyone else was climbing a stile? Looking behind me I could see the massive chalk ridge that we had just come down, it looked amazing.
First checkpoint was in a car park after around 9 miles, it took us 2 hours to get there nad shortly before we ran into Kevan and Liz from the Serpies who were doing the 20. This checkpoint is where the 20 and the 30 go in completely opposite directions. At the CP I saw Dave Ross and Phillip who had caught up to us. The food was fairly basic (can't argue for a fiver), juice and biscuits. About a mile from the checkpoint we bumped into a guy running the other way asking us if we were doing the 30. He was doing the 20 but had set off with the 30 people. We said he may as well do the 30 as he was going to run 30 miles anyway with that kind of navigation skill.
Claire, Dave, Phil and I ran together for a while with me in charge of reading. It was quite a responsibility but I was doing OK I think, I don't recall going wrong. The instructions I think were the best I had seen in such an event, perhaps even too good. "Turn Left at track, 9Y ahead from Bridge and 11Y before road". Who has measured all this to the yard? Sometimes the instructions would switch measurements which confused all the Garmin people, from Yards, meters and miles. When it told us to run ahead 750 yards we'd get into a debate about how far 750 yards was. "Nah, it can't be this track cos we have not gone half a mile yet", "But 750 yards is less than half a mile?", "Is it? How far is a yard?" "Less than a meter", "Oh. Then what's a furlong?".
Shortly before the second CP we caught up with Hillary Walker who was (like everyone else) using a nice muddy hill as an excuse to walk. A quick chat about my America thing and Hilary suggested I treat it as a 9-5 job where I have to think that running is my job. I suspect there will be plenty of overtime when I get out there and I'll probably have to work through lunch too.
A bit later up the muddy hill there was an adolescent Horse (dunno what the proper word is) who was kicking around then then scared Claire back down the hill. I need to get some sort on instant camera to capture these events. The amazing climb up to Leith Hill was included on the route with it's very recognisable tower that sells ice cream. I was happy to wait in the queue for one but Claire was determined to press on and finish before the other Serpies who had started after us. Boring.
At CP 2 we bumped into Paula who seemed to be keeping up a good pace. I delved into some of the food I brought along with me. Sainsbury's were doing a half price deal on basically everything you need to eat for ultrarunning. Sausage rolls, pepparami, jelly babies, energy drink, milkshake. We pressed on and sent Paula down a long hill before calling her back to say that the turning was right here. It wasn't deliberate, honest.
More stunning scenery and a lot more mud which Claire tried her best to drown in. Just before the third CP there is a massive climb, over a railway up a hill into the forest and then up 100 steps or so. We had rejoined the slackers doing the 20 miles. The climb is beautiful but very hard. Regular Tanners veterans were saying that this was the hardest they has ever made it. Possibly due to the discontinuation of the Summer Tanners now.
I met Anna Gilmore for the first time at CP3 and then bumped into Martin Illot and Lawrence who I had met in the Spartathlon last year. MArtin made me laugh with a quote in his Spartathlon race report where he said "Pain is temporary, a commemorative perspex block depicting ancient greek runners lasts forever". It was good to see them again.
Behind us there was another team of Serpies being led my Alan Hall who I was sure were going to come up charging past us. They were all about twice as fast as me and Alan is about 50 times the navigator I am and thought that the half an hour we had ahead of them would not be enough and they would hunt us down like one of those pretend fox hunts that happens around this time of year. In the end they didn't which means my navigation was obviously awesome. Finished in just over 6 hours.
SO glad I got out of bed to do this. I recommend anything with Tanners in the title, and hope that the summer one will be back soon.
It does not suprise me that the famous German code breaking machine was broken here. The people of Bletchley have to solve riddles just to get about the town. I have never seen so many roundabouts and underpasses in such a small area before. I was up and down underpasses like a confused rabbit, not entirely sure which direction I was facing as I tried to find my way to from the station to the start. Google maps said it was about 2 miles and 3 roundabouts for me to cross. In fact it was at least 10, including lots of double roundabouts. I don't even know why they exist? For people who change their mind after the first one and want to go back? If Google Maps has forsaken this place then I have no chance.
Anyhoo, I managed to get to the start just in time for the start of Dave "Foxy" Bailey's race. I decided to do it at the last minute to help burn off some of the Christmas podge. Foxy seems to be organising these marathons as if they were Parkruns. Turn up at the lake anytime and chances are there will be a marathon on. Awesome. Just wish he lived in Ealing. Me and a very sweaty sleepy Geordie
The route was pretty simple, a little out and back to start with and then 7 laps of lake Caldicote. It's been a while since I have done a multi-lap race but I was looking forward to it as lapped races can be a different and still enjoyable running experience.
We set off and immediately 5 runners formed a lead group. They all had about half as much clothing on as the rest of us so probably had to keep moving to avoid shivering to death. I settled in a comfortable paced second group and chatted to Mark about the usual stuff, "are you going to take 20 pairs of trainers to the States next year or buy them on the way" and "In New York you can access lots of the attractions for free if you are in a wheelchair which is cool cos we will be in one".
The lap was fairly straightforward, starting at the car park run around the end to a bridge, round and through some woods then under the A5 careful not to bang your head on it, then past some flats with confused looking geese and ducks wondering why they could not swim in the ice. Then over a bridge with a dog poo in the middle then back around, under the A5 again and past a windmill and a sign for the Comfort Inn (rooms from £29) and then onto the end of the lap where Dave would lie about how many you still had to run. Then all that again. Simple.
The second lap was much like the first except some fishermen were getting in the way by sticking their rods into a pond that was not even part of the lake. Seriously what can anyone catch in a dirty puddle.
The third lap was similar except that towards the end I stopped for a bit and Mark ran on ahead. I assumed I would catch him later.
The fourth lap was much the same again except my arse was really hurting and had to stop to stretch it a bit. Mark had gone on further but I was still sure I'd be able to catch him.
The fifth lap was probably the most exciting. A dog leaped into the freezing cold lake and was paralysed in there and had to be rescued. It was one of those pointless small yappy dogs that really should be a cat anyway. Later on I noticed that someone had trodden in the poo. Who was it? I then got barked at by some more dogs which perked me up a bit.
The sixth lap was exciting too. I got lapped for the first time by Gobi who was jogging and chatting his way through a 3ish hours marathon. He stopped to chat (when I say stop I mean ran at my pace) for a minute then went off. When I finished the lap Mark was now on the other side of the lake and there was no way I was going to catch him. Me trying in vain to unlap myself against Gobi. Thanks Rach for the Photos :)
The seventh lap was a a farewell to all the wonderful things I had seen several times that day. The A5, The arse end of a tesco warehouse, the 2 very confused swans on the ice who didn't realise that just around the corner there were loads of them swimming, the windmill and the now flatter dog poo. It's like they had become my friends along the way round. Mark was now as visible as a Geordies coat, I met Ruth and Anna and tried not to look too smug that I was doing my last lap and the sign for the Comfort Inn was now £34. Some Fetchie as I passed her said she was admiring the view. Was she talking about the lake or my arse?
Overall it was a great event and a great chance to catch up with some people I had not seen for a while. Although laps may sound boring they are actually quite easy and almost hypnotic. Familiarity with the wonderful objects such as windmills and dog poo seems to make them go quicker. 3.39 in total and hurting much more than 26.2 flat miles should. I had only really decided to do this the day before though. I blame Christmas. Stupid Santa, I wish you were never born. Hopefully I'll be in better shape come Feb, when I shall be running this marathon 4 times in 4 days. Hope Dave has cleared up the dog poo by then :)
On March 4th in 1928 199 runners set out from Los Angeles to race to New York and claim a prize of $25,000 for first place. That was quite a lot of money at the time, a policeman would earn about $40 a week. In fact that is still a lot of money now, I estimate that is what it will cost me to do this.
I first heard about this race by reading The Bunion Derby, a fantastic book about the race (link goes to google preview). It is an account based on newspaper reports spanning the 84 days and 3400 miles of the race. Things were very different then.
The twenties in the USA was in interesting decade. An economic boom and huge rises in personal income for many which led to some crazy behaviour. Drinking alcohol was illegal and people expressed themselves in funyn ways, such as by 24 hour dancing, week long flag pole sitting and swimming for days. People seemed to go mad for the endurance challenges.
Charlie C Pyle, more of a circus promoter than an endurance enthusiast saw this as an opportunity to make his name (and some money do doubt as was the theme at the time) by promoting what he called "The Greatest Show on Earth" (he was a modest chap). He offered a large prize for runners who (for $100 deposit) could run along the newly built (and in many parts not quite built) Route 66 from LA to Chicago and then across to New York. Strangely enough it probably seemed like a fairly normal thing to do 70 years ago, more so than now.
I don't want to go into detail of the book (or spoil the ending) and I recommend you all read it and I challenge you to not want to follow their footsteps on finishing the book. There are however a few things that just stood out for me when reading.
It was a proper race. Not much I do nowadays seems like a proper race but these guys all seemed to be there in hope of winning the money. Most of the competitors were quite poor and scraped the $100 somehow and gambled with 3 months of their lives that they could win this
They were actually running quite fast. Quite often I'd read something like "So and so won the 38 mile stage averaging 8 miles an hour". 8 miles an hour for 38 miles when you've already run 2000? That would be the kind of time I would do if I just tried to run that distance once at full speed and did not have to get up for the next week.
America is enormous. Well, not just the distance but the geography that you have to run through. The route goes through the hottest desert, mountain ranges, great plains where the winds are so bad that trees grow sideways.
Everyone was so young. There were a lot of people in their 20s. There was one kid who was 15 and got halfway before this was discovered and he was kicked out. There were not many over 40. Next year there will be not many under 40.
I actually found out what a bunion is. I thought it was like a callous or something but it is actually quite severe muscle contortion in the foot. I don't want to get that.
The winning time was 573h 4m 34s. That is a long long time. And why on earth were they measuring the seconds?
It was a cold winter this year. You almost felt sorry for those poor people stood outside doorways in pubs shivering as they got their fix. They were killing themselves in more ways than one now since they were forced to smoke outside. However I saw the exact same thing outside the Seymour Centre every Wednesday night. However these Serpies were not smoking, they had their arms raised like they were asking teacher if they can go to the toilet. But they didn't need the toilet, they were in fact asking for permission to run. Permission from some orbiting satelite to tell them they could start. Icicles would form around their frozen faces as the "signal" bar crawled up to 100% and then suddenly "Beeeeep" and these ice sculptures would splutter into life.
WTF happened on mile 7??????
I bought one of the first GPS devices back in the days where I thought the key to running happiness was to have every inch of it graphable. It was fairly poor by todays standards. It would often lose signal and would switch itself off after 5 minutes if there was no contact with the Starship Enterprise which meant I had to look at it constantly. In doing so I would run into people and for the first 10 runnings of the "Tower Bridge" run I completely missed this amazing bridge in London that has towers on it. It got better though, future models would hold signal better so that you only had to look at them when it beeps at you, declaring that you have run another mile and causing a funny reflex where you involutarily elbow the person on your left in the face.
The best bit was not the running though, it was the things you could do on a computer with your run afterwards. Plug your watch into your PC and all of a sudden your run becomes interesting. Pounding the trails or roads is boring and futile at the best of times but now your effort has a purpose, you can draw charts and graphs and analyse data. Brilliant. You can also be part of the scintilating conversations at the end of a run where you spew out numbers a the end to each other. "Yeah, mine was 7.32, 7.35, 7.21, 7.45 bugger, 7.32, 7.31". Splendid.
One day as I stared at a funny slug like object on my screen that resembled the path of my run and questioned why mile 7 seemed slower even thought the HR and elevation suggested it should be quicker I wondered whether I had missed the point of this sport. I remembered the days where I'd just go out and run because it feels nice. Now I can't seem to leave the house without something tracking my ever step, as if I need proof that I went outside. I had to ask myself "do I run for fun or do I run as a means to collect data?" If it's the latter then surely there are better ways? I could just stand outside and pretend to be a family fortunes researcher. I asked 100 people "what should I do with my life instead collecting pointless data?"
The watch went into the drawer and I decided to run whenever I liked and not when some beeping device told me too. It was risky, I mean how could I prove that I even went for a run? If I was audited how could I ever have the evidence that I didn't just sit on my backside watching TV? My own testimony would not stand up in court like a good pace graph would. I was treading dangerously.
However on relieving myself of the slavery of the wrist computer I felt like I has been released from prison (those things look remarkably similar to ASBO tags). My arm felt so much lighter having ditched the voluntary electronic tagging device. No longer did I have to let some virtual man beat me around some route, beeping with derision should I fall behind. I could just run as far and as fast as I felt like and could even look at things along the way. My mind could wander onto things so much more important than whether my heart-rate was staying within 80% while I ascended a 6% incline at 7.10 minute miles on mile 7 of my 15 mile circuit. Oh look, a squirrel.I felt more alive when I ditched the running laptop
I have not worn a watch in a run or race since. I can occasionally guess the miles in a race by the deafening crescendo of beeping from those all around me and the jerking of elbows swinging up to the left. I can run when I want, stop when I want and no longer get wound up if a 5 foot detour threatens the shape of a graph in a few hours time. I was in a race in summer where I had no idea how long I had been running, how far or even what country I was in. It was a magical feeling that I will remember forever and not one that I will re-live by looking at a bunch of numbers. I'd hate to think what I might have missed in the Alps or the deserts or the English countryside because I was too busy staring at liquid crystals. I don't need my computer to tell me whether I've had a good run or not, I decide that for myself.
I don't think I'll ever go back to that kind of captivity. I'm enjoying the running too much. I do love to ask users of such devices "what's the time". It's hilarious how they frantically press buttons on there watch only to tell me that they don't know, but that I have just raised their cholestrohol level.
And I giggled (perhaps harshly) at a friend who trying to avoid the situation in the first paragraph had his £300 device stolen from his garden wall while leaving it to gain signal.
"But can't you track where he is? I thought that was the point of those things".
"Only if he plugs it into his computer and uploads the stats"
"Well then, you just have to sit back and wait. With that kind of speedy running he is sure to upload it. The graph will be awesome".
