Hardmoors 110 - 06/05/2017

Fortitudine Vincimus "By Endurance we conquer" - Sir Ernest Shackleton's family motto.

The Cleveland Way is a 110 mile national trail skirting the North York Moors National Park from Filey Brigg on the Coast to Helmsley in the heart of the Moors.  It takes in an incredibly varying trail, from tiny fishing villages nestled at the bottom of cliffs home to thousands of nesting seabirds through to huge panoramas across wild and remote heather moors home to ancient abbeys and castles.

That is a looooooong way. 

My legs are going to hate me.

The whole route typically takes 7 to 12 days to walk and ascends cumulatively over 6,000 metres.  The challenge of the Hardmoors 110 is to complete this monster of a trail in no less than 36 hours.  It would be my hardest run to date, only my second hundred miler and a key element of my preparations for UTMB this summer.  My goals were simple, to finish with a smile and hopefully with enough time to pack my bag for a morning flight to Tenerife the following day!

Some typical Hardmoors encouragement.

I arrived at the start line feeling good having had an excellent preceding month of training however there were a few nerves due to the scale of the challenge and lingering memories of a painful experience at the Hardmoors 55 in March.  I had my best crew yet in my corner with Bobby and Rachel on support and friends Ben and Paul on pacing duties from half way.

It hadn't rained for weeks and the trails were bone dry

so I opted for my roads shoes from the start.

As Jon the race director delivered his race briefing up at the race start at Filey Brigg, a runner from the special ten year anniversary 200 mile distance came through and everyone applauded him.  He'd been out since the previous morning and had already covered much of the Yorkshire Wolds before now starting along the Cleveland Way.  We would be passing him along with many more hardcore 200 athletes on the route.  Our race was to be merely the "fun-run" in comparison! 

And they're off! At Filey Brigg

Nervous chat at the start but how many would finish?

I started the race cautiously ensuring that my watch never ticked beyond ten minutes per mile (or at least I thought I did).  I was feeling good and gradually moving through the field.  So much so that my crew struggled to catch me, meaning I didn't see them for a little while.  Every time they parked up, my tracker showed I had been through only moments earlier.  When they did appear on the trail it was a brief high five before we could have a proper catch up at Ravenscar.

My crew finally caught up with me! - Yes they had a car...

Here Bobby and Rach had checked in as it was one of the official crew checkpoints and were waiting for me in the village hall where they had cheese and ham butties ready for me.  I restocked my electrolytes, smashed a sandwich and got moving quickly again.  Legs moving well and feeling good, next stop Robin Hoods Bay in only four miles time.

All smiles approaching Ravenscar at mile 22

Good to compare this with the last photo on this page :-(

By now the coastal trail was showing its full glory, hills and cliffs rising above the booming ocean below.  The miles were being eaten up and I found myself alone on the trail.  No matter though, as there was so much to occupy the mind with such a beautiful landscape.

Soon descending again to Robin Hoods Bay before climbing the steep hill to the checkpoint.  I expected the guys to be there with more sandwiches but they had missed me again.  It was a bit unnerving this time as I knew it would now be after Whitby until I saw them over ten miles away so I was in for a little longer without fuel than I had anticipated.  A quick call to check everything was ok and we agreed to rendezvous at Sandsend at mile 36.

Moving well and feeling strong, only 88 miles to go!

Just as Whitby appeared on the horizon a couple of friendly faces came into view.  Sue and Terry my Aunt and Uncle had been sat waiting for me (for two hours apparently - a little premature but I love the enthusiasm).  It was a real boost to see them at a stage when I sometimes suffer around 34 miles or so.  They agreed to drive to Sandsend to meet up with me again and my crew. 

Now the race was really on, could I negotiate the tourist hordes in Whitby and get to my crew before Aunty Sue demolished all my Jaffa Cakes! 

Jaffa power - who needs protein shakes?

Whitby was rammed and it was frustrating having to weave between the crowds but soon enough I was past the Abbey, down the 199 steps and back up to the whalebone arch.  Soon I would be back with my crew which was a relief as I was now ready for a pit stop to refuel and regather, one third of the way in.

Legends at Sandsend! - Thanks for turning out guys.

Sorry I made you miss the jumble sale Terry...

I was eating and drinking really well so far and it kept me feeling strong and my mood high.  I  was having a really good run and I said to Rachel that "today was a good day."  Onwards to Runswick Bay on 41 miles.

Cool and grey at Sandsend - Not a jellied eel in sight.

Runswick Bay is one of my favourite beaches in the UK, perfect sands, nesting fulmars and a perfect fishing village nestled beneath the cliffs.  Here the route traversed the  beach and I caught two younger guys who I ran with for a while, grilling them about running in the alps as they had last summer both finished the tour of Monte Rosa (UTMR).

You can just see me and my two fellow runners here after

having run the beach section at Runswick.

Soon we were climbing up to the car park together where my crew would again be waiting for me.  This time I opted for rice pudding which I promptly poured all over my crotch much to the hilarity of my sister Rachel.  For some reason she wasn't keen to help clean cold rice pudding from the crotch of a man who has just run 41 miles.  Dereliction of crewing duty I hear you cry! 

Apparently blood is thicker than water but not quite as thick as rice pudding...

Still feeling good climbing out of Runswick - I love this place!

I was sensing the first proper milestone approaching now at Saltburn which was ten miles away.  Here I would be leaving the coast but picking up my first pacer Ben, and my crew were straight off to bring him to me. 

All I needed to do was get myself there which was easier said than done.  I needed a little help from an angel in a Hoka hat in Staithes after a wrong turn as she ran me back to the bridge where I needed to be having climbed too high too early.

Despite the wrong turn, I had now dropped the two young guys and wasn't seeing other runners at all save for the odd 200 competitor.  The brave 200ers I passed I was always encouraging.  Their thoughts would now be turning to their second night out and to be honest I wondered how many would make it through.  Huge respect to all who toed the line on the 200, an awesome challenge in the true sense of the word.  At least my suffering would be done by Sunday lunchtime all being well...

As I was alone in the countryside south of Saltburn my mind started to wander a little and I began to lose a little focus.  I decided to switch on the phone, and attempt to read a little and run (not recommended). I had had so many messages of support on social media and text it gave me another real lift and helped me get back on track. 

Friends and family were tracking me online and sending support it was really touching.  It gave me energy and the next few miles were done so much more easily.  Before long I was being clapped onto the beachfront at Saltburn where despite my early arrival, my trusty crew had delivered me my pacer right on time!

Saltburn Selfie - where's the chippie?

Ben would be pacing me to the foot of Captain Cooks monument in twelve miles or so.  The section is almost all uphill and would include Roseberry Topping a mini mountain at the Northern Edge of the Moors.  It was now 6pm so I piled down a load of food (sandwiches and crisps) mainly.  I grabbed a banana for the journey and Ben and I were soon headed inland climbing all the way.  Ben had been tracking my progress and was worried about keeping up but now with over fifty miles in my legs the feet were starting to feel a little heavy for the first time.

The miles ticked by well enough though as we chatted and trotted our way towards the hills. We passed the winning lady of the 200 on the climb out of Saltburn, Shelli Gordon who is a seriously impressive athlete.  Ben rejoiced in the fact that he could enjoy running past her for a change! 

I was by now pretty much hiking all the uphills but making steady progress and I had reached as high as twelfth place or so by this point.   Not that it really mattered, I was enjoying the journey and stilfeeling strong.

The cavalry has arrived! - Nice new kicks Benj ya big poser...

Having a pacer really helped keep up the momentum, lift the mojo and keep focus.  At my last and only other 100 at SDW100 I had noticed the advantage others with pacers had over me out on my own and it certainly helped me having a little friendly company along for the ride.  Meanwhile it was time for my crew to snaffle some fish and chips and go ferry my second pacer Paul to me at Captain Cook.

After suffering a brief wobble with my stomach at Fox and Hounds (mile 57) which I staved off with the now battered banana, Ben and I were soon in familiar territory in the woods above Guisborough where we have run together lots.  Now the light had started to fade and a low cloud had rolled in as we reached High Cliff Nab.  I wondered how soon we would see Roseberry Topping in the clag but sure enough it began to loom out of the murk and struck an imposing sight as we started our descent towards the foot of the climb.  The route had to ascend and descend this mini mountain before a final descent to Captain Cook where I would pick up my second pacer Paul.

It was on the climb that we were passed by a runner for the first time in hours.  He was moving much stronger and I have to admit it did get me thinking about what the night might have in store.

Ascending Roseberry Topping

Ascending Roseberry Topping - faster runner coming through behind

As we descended to Gribdale Terrace from Roseberry it was just after nine and almost dark.  Rach was hollering encouragement to us coming off the hill but I was starting to struggle a bit with the steep downhills now.  I had run 65 miles and climbed a lot of hills with the dreaded three sisters still to come. 

I had developed a hotspot on my left foot so I spent some time patching my feet, eating pot noodles, getting a change of clothing and replacing my road shoes for the Hokas which would hopefully provide a bit more protection underfoot.

Job done Ben - Now where are those noodles!?

Soon enough farewells were said and Paul and I fixed headtorches and headed off up to Captain Cooks monument and Kildale.  No sooner had we set off than Ben came running up the trail to say I had forgot to refill my bottles and to remember to refill at Kildale.  A schoolboy error but it shows how the brain gradually loses its sharpness on these long events.  Another benefit of having a supportive crew around you to do your thinking for you! 

Ben was now away home for a late bedtime.  Legs still fresh enough for a respectable time at the North Lincs half marathon the next morning.  Nicely done, I doff my running cap to you sir!

Trail warriors (reflective)

Duly recharged at Kildale (mile 68) Paul and I began our ascent into the remote moors and the desolate Bloworth Crossing.  A place which is bleak in the day nevermind in poor visibility in the middle of the night.  I was paranoid about missing an important turning up here and we almost did save for Paul stopping randomly to put on his hat.  "Oh look there's the path right there!"  Checking the Viewranger app on my phone we were sure we had the right track, a close call as no one wants to get lost up there in the dark with over 70 miles in their legs...

Signs not good for an improvement in this blogpost..

Once up on the moors we had a long tab to Clay Bank where our crew would be waiting again for a refuel before taking on the steep climbs over the three sisters (Cringle Moor, Cold Moor and Wainstones).  Here there was a spectacular show of fairy lights, flumps and inflatable dinosaurs (including a particularly scary T-Rex when least expected) at the check point.  Cheers guys best checkpoint on the whole route! 

Unfortunately the mirth was short lived.  It had become hard. I tried to eat some cereal here as I knew this next few miles could take an age in the cold and dark with such steep ups and downs to come.  Paul was a real hero here helping me through this section as I went into my shell a little, I can't thank you enough buddy it would have been lonely and so much harder out there without you.

If you've managed to read this far you deserve a trophy,  So here it is. 

Haven't you got something better to be doing like descaling the kettle?

Somehow we negotiated the three sisters, the worst of the climbing now behind me.  As we descended through the woods towards Osmotherley I first noticed a scarlet streak across the sky signalling the new day would soon be with us.  All that remained was to climb up to square corner where we would see the crew again and from there its only 20 miles home. 

Cheers Paul, what a star running all night with me!

As we ran through Osmotherley a torchlight came into view moving towards us.  It was Pete, a friend who I had shared a tent with on a hike of the Welsh 3000s a couple of years ago.  He had been crewing a friend who had dropped out. 

Waking in the middle of the night at Osmotherley YHA he had seen from my tracker I was close, got dressed and come out to meet us with cherry tomatoes!  Pete is one of my running heroes having come 3rd in the mighty spine race last year and rendezvousing with us at 3.30 am with tomatoes was typical of what a generous and some might say slightly crackers fellow he is.  Thanks buddy what an ace surprise to see you.  Pete's surprise appearance sparked an upturn in pace and Paul and I closed in strongly on Square Corner with the hoot of a tawny owl in the woods calling out as dawn was now breaking.

Please be warned that the following section contains

mild terror, pus and defecation. 

The squeamish may wish to cut to the end.

At square corner I was surprised to see Bobby with her trainers on and ready to go, to be honest I wasn't complaining, I was done with lonely miles for the weekend.  Paul and I said our goodbyes and we were quickly off on the climb to Black Hambleton. 

Unfortunately my guts were now on the revolt after a day of eating childrens party food and the dreaded squat to relieve myself on legs battered by 90 miles could be resisted no longer.  Fortunately Bobby didn't mind (who said romance was dead) and as I looked back there was no one else around.

After the climb we did well combining the ultra shuffle on flats and downs with hiking uphill.  A rather flat section passed by well as my mood lifted a little with the increasing daylight.  It was nice to run with Bobby for a while rather than relying on her being my patient waitress and nurse all weekend.  The journey to Sutton Bank passed quite nicely, I was well on track to get this done by lunchtime at the latest.

Unfortunately it was as we got to Sutton Bank that things changed for the worse.  Rachel swapped with Bobby and joined me on the painful descent to the last checkpoint at White Horse.  It seemed to take an age and despite the amazing encouragement offered at the checkpoint, my mojo hit an all time low.  My feet were now blistered and complaining badly.  It had been a long night and it seemed so long ago that I was happily ticking off the miles along the coast.

After hauling myself back up the dreaded steps and back along Sutton Bank I passed three or four runners coming the other way.  They seemed close and looked so much stronger than I felt although they were in fact over a mile behind me at this point. 

Rachel brought the car round as I decided to attend to my feet for the last ten miles at the roadside.  I had run so far and so well, I was doing reasonably well in the rankings having not been passed all night and had proved to myself I can still be running after 100 miles.  In the act of sitting down, removing my socks and seeing the blisters though my desire to race evaporated in that moment. 

I knew I would get it done, but for some reason my desire to keep pushing hard simply evaporated.  I drained two painful blisters which erupted what seemed like gallons of fluid onto my spanking new running jacket and I frankly didn't care. 

If I see another damned Acorn!!!

After patching up with zinc tape I was hobbling away up the road in a rather strange mood.  I confess from here I didn't once get into a shuffle never mind a canter.  It was like a switch had been turned off.  Rather than a march, the last ten miles to the finish turned into a saunter in the sunshine.  Past beautiful Rievaulx Abbey and finally into Helmsley for the finish. 

A few runners streamed past me and I didn't even blink never mind up the tempo.  The race had taken its toll on my body but it was my mind which had faded, despite being amongst the first finishers I was one of the slowest over the last section.

Finally I was picking up the yellow signs which led to the finish at the Rugby Club.  I hiked up the hill and did manage that smile at the finish.  I had a great reception, applauded into the room by volunteers and fellow finishers.  I admit my tired smile did turn to tears with a few kind words from Shirley Steele and an offer of some hot crumpets.  It doesn't take much to set me blubbing when I've taken a battering like this one. 

Congratulations to Jon and Shirley on ten years of the Hardmoors 110, what an incredibly special race series and community you have created.  It has been awesome to run at so many of your brilliant events.

Computer says.......YES!!!

My finish position was 19th in 27 hours and 42 minutes, the missing mojo for the final section had cost me around forty minutes and six places.  Of the 121 starters 84 had finished, respect to everyone who stood on the startline for this monster and the 200, tough to kill the lot of you!

Is this the end, what day is it, am I even bovvered?

I need a lie down...

After a week or so my feet have healed well and there are signs of life in my legs again.  I have had a little time to reflect.  On the whole I had a great run for so much of this race, I learned so much and put a few demons to bed.  I can't help but think though that if I just believed in myself a little more I could have turned this run into something a little bit more special by just gritting it out a bit more at the end.  I'm not sure really what happened but if you end up pacing me at a miler, you have my permission to kick my arse ALL the way to the finish line.

But hey its only my second go at the 100 mile distance so I'm going to focus on the positives and learn from the few negatives to be even stronger for my next one.  To be honest I'm going to need all the help I can get because next time it will be at the greatest trail race in the world.  Bring on UTMB!!!!

Love and hugs to my pacers Paul and Ben and especially to my amazing crew Rachel and Bobby who have been with me throughout my ultra running journey these last three years and suffered my boring trail running chat all this time. 

This race feels like a real team effort and I am so grateful for your time, love, encouragement and energy.  It was a monster but we tamed it together.  This medal is shared so if any of you want to borrow it for blinging up a ball gown or a black tie outfit some time just let me know.

Hard earned bling this one...

Can't sign off without thanking Rachel, Paul, Ben, the Chia Charge guys and Ann Brown for the use of the photos in this post.  See you out there!

 

 

Hardmooors 55 - 18/03/2017

Why do we fall sir? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up - Alfred Pennyworth

Wow, not quite sure where to start with this one.  This was my second attempt at this race having had a good day out back in 2015.  It would be my sixth ultra over fifty miles since 2014 so I should be getting better at this thing by now right? 

This year, the race would be run the opposite way from Helmsley to Guisborough with the hills in the second half and a sting in the tail in the form of Roseberry Topping, the perfect mini mountain which is the jewel in the crown of the wild and woolly Yorkshire Moors.

Taking the warm up seriously with my trail partner Ben...

In a nutshell, things didn't go to plan.  The wheels fell off early and it ended up being my roughest race day yet.  To be honest I'm still getting my head around it so I forgive you for skipping to the end if you want to avoid a gloomy read.

I am taking on the challenge of a lifetime this year at the UTMB.  It is the pinnacle of ultra running and I have worked so hard just to get to the startline.  This race, along with several others in the diary are all about preparing for it but that doesn't stop the racer in me wanting to perform well (it is a race after all) and this is where some of my problems started.

My preparations were very different to what they would be for a target event, I didn't taper, I had a heavy weekend with two late nights prior and work commitments meant I was away in the days preceding.  This meant interrupted sleep and little time to get my head in the right place in the days leading up to the event.  None of these are excuses, but the optimist in me is clinging to the chance that these factors may partially explain why I had such a miserable day.

Let the agony commence!

The day started well enough as the ground is quite runnable between Helmsley and Osmotherley.   I had made a schedule to beat my 2015 time of 10hrs 20mins which meant getting to Osmotherley (the first major checkpoint, 23 miles in) in 3h 30 or so. 

Heading down to Rievaulx at the race start

Smiling because I don't have cramp yet...

Unfortunately, the cramps had already set in by mile 17 and whilst I was still on target, my energy levels felt really low.  I even felt a little faint as I entered the village hall at Osmotherley for the first major checkpoint where my dropbag was waiting.  The weather was mild out of the wind and I was cooking so I lost my base layer here, stuffed it into my pack, and scoffed down my trusty rice pudding hoping the calories might lift me.

At White Horse still moving ok at this point.

Unfortunately on this occasion the cramps were in for the duration.  No amount of stretching would ease them off and they only worsened as they spread from my calves to my hamstrings on the first proper climb onto Clay Bank after Osmotherley.

At Clay Bank and caked after a fall in the woods near Osmotherley.

I already knew it was going to be a long and painful day from here. Photo credit Craig Kilday

By the time I reached half way and the three sisters in five hours I was already reduced to a run walk and was contemplating what to do for the best.  My plan was in tatters and I was contemplating my first DNF.  I figured if I quit now I would be able to reduce the soreness caused by the cramp and resume training quicker. 

For better or worse, stubbornness won out and I resolved to stick it out despite my misery and finish, even if only to save my first DNF for another day.  I called Bobby to adjust her arrival time at the finish.

Things did brighten a little as the cramps receded on the long descent into the second major checkpoint at Kildale.  I got talking to a fellow runner about his Bob Graham exploits which distracted me from the pain for half an hour or so but the relief was short lived. 

It was a relief to reach Kildale.  I took my time here as my only remaining goal now was to finish.  The volunteers here were great as ever and I refuelled on pizza and coffee.  Now resigned to my fate, the pressure lifted and in a weird masochistic way I started to see the funny side of my predicament as I headed back out into the fading light.  

Runners streamed past as I hobbled (think foot dragging zombie) my way up to Captain Cook's Monument, the penultimate climb of the day.  Whilst I had planned to not have to use the headtorch, there was a silver lining in getting to see the beautiful snake of lights heading up and down Roseberry Topping in the dark.  From there, all that remained was a five mile limp to the finish on legs battered by 8 hours of unrelenting cramp.  I made a sorry sight by the time I finally left the old railway track and hobbled the last few yards to the finish at The Sea Cadets in Guisborough.  I had added one and a half hours to my 2015 time.

On a much more cheery note, a special congratulations to my old mate Ben.  Seven years to the day he quit smoking, he has had his own epic journey to the start line of his first 50 mile race.  It really was the best moment of the day to see him bound through the door at the finish with the biggest grin of all.  What an achievement, well done mate you are ultra!

Looks like you were powered by smiles all the way round mate

I've suffered with cramp in sports off and on my whole adult life and it seems I am going through a particularly bad phase at the moment.  When it struck at the Hardmoors 30 in January I was able to manage it and still have a good day, but here it hit me much harder. 

Thank goodness that is over.

This performance has rocked my confidence.  There are one or two mitigating factors but I still feel a long way away from being in shape to finish one of the toughest endurance events in the world.

All I can do is keep plugging away, upping the training and commitment and trust that my conditioning will improve and see off the cramps.  If this happens again in the Alps there is no way I will make it to the finish and I'm worried...

Fingers crossed for a more enjoyable Hardmoors 110 in May and an upswing in form.

Hardmoors 55 21/03/2015

"After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb." - Nelson Mandela

The Hardmoors 55 is a 55 mile ultramarathon run over part of the Cleveland Way from Guisborough to Hemsley along some of the most spectacular scenery in the North York Moors. It climbs over 2,700 metres in total and would be my third ultra.

I've put in a lot of hard training miles over the winter but there's nothing like that mix of nerves and excitement you get leading up to a big race day.

My sister Rachel had kindly offered to drive me which saved a super early start to catch the bus from Helmsley and time spent hanging around at the start.  In the end I had 45 minutes to get my number, kit checked and smash some porridge before the start.  The atmosphere at the Sea Cadets Hall was buzzing as Jon Steele the race director gave the briefing and told everyone the drill if they broke both their arms and legs and assured everyone there wouldn't be any DNFers.

Pre race fueling!

Having recently tested my merino baselayer on a hilly recce, I made a late decision to wear a better wicking long sleeve top and carry the merino.  It just about packed into my race vest alongside the other mandatory kit items.  There was quite a long list of required kit due to the arctic conditions in which this race has been run previously.

Thankfully for me, the weather was kind this year. Dry, but cloudy with a blustery Northerly which would have been cold for marshals and aid station volunteers but made for quite nice conditions for running.

Pausing for the important prerace selfie with Rach and Bobby meant I missed the start!  I ended up joining the back of the queue to climb the stairs onto the old railway line.  We soon joined the Cleveland Way heading for the first climbs of the day. Rach and Bobby had already headed off for a brew and to meet up with three new members of my support crew for this race, mum, dad and Hally the border collie.

The race has already started dumbass!

The first major obstacle of note is Roseberry Topping and the leaders came flying down as I started my climb.  I had not been to this part of the North York Moors before and I was blown away by the views to the bleak moors and down into the fields of Yorkshire around 360 degrees.  No time to waste though so I pushed on down and then up again to Captain Cooks monument and soon found myself in the tiny village of Kildale (12 miles) where we expected to find our dropbags.  Due to a problem of some sort the bags had not arrived and would instead be 10 miles further on.  This suited me fine as the hundred weight of porridge I had consumed was still providing sufficient fuel so I stopped briefly to refill the bottles and was soon on my way again.

After Kildale, the route heads into a remote part of the Moors climbing steadily to Blowarth Crossing.  The trail was compact here and I felt good momentum building after the early climbs.  I thought about how rough it must get here in the winter and how challenging it must have been in those years when the weather was far less accommodating.  From Blowarth the route turns West to climb Round Hill where you can look back to Roseberry Topping and the distance you have covered and ahead to the challenge still to come.  It was around this point my knees had started to grumble a little.  It was still early in the race, and I hoped that it wasn't a return of my previous problems as this would surely mean a painful grind to a DNF.  Nothing could be done but keep going for now and soon we were descending to Clay Bank (21 miles) where my dropbag and family were waiting for me.  Here Rach and Bobby swarmed around me like an F1 pit crew replacing bottles and food as I wolfed down some rice pudding.

Pit Stop Clay Bank

From here to Osmotherley is easily the hardest part of the route as it ascends and descends the beautiful, brutal rollercoaster of Hasty Bank, Wain Stones, Cringle Moor and Carlton Bank.  I knew what was coming as I had already recced this section.  With 20+ miles and 4 hours of running already behind me there was little more to do than to hike up and down as fast as I could and run the short distances between the hills.  This tough section takes a lot out of the legs and there was a reality check of what I had taken on when it struck home that I was only half way.  Nevertheless it was such a help to have run this section before and it was great that the guys were there again to say Hi at Lord Stones and help me stretch my now intermittently cramping calves (thankfully the knees didn't get any worse).  Despite the battering, it is impossible not to be uplifted by the beauty here and I focused on the knowledge that Osmotherley would be reached very soon after the hilly torture subsided where it would be possible to eat, drink and regroup.

Not this blogpost you mean! - A bit of ultra encouragement

Off again, leaving Lordstones checkpoint

Entering the Village Hall at Osmotherley (32 miles) I was immediately handed my drop bag by one of the young volunteers there and took a seat.  There were a few tired bodies and glum faces around and I resolved to be in and out of there sharpish.  I wasn't massively hungry but I wanted to try to eat.  I had decided to experiment with falafel as a nice savoury fuel, I popped one in my mouth and immediately realised my mistake.  What little moisture was left in my mouth immediately disappeared and I was left parched, trying to swallow what felt like a small garlicky birds nest.  I soon gave up on falafel. I glugged down some coke, refilled the bottles, grabbed some Clif Blocks, and was out and on my way again all within 4 minutes or so. 

Some of the chat around this race was that the hard work is all done before Osmotherley so i was looking forward to some easy running now, however this was not to be.  The next few miles are hard work as you regain height.  Rachel and Bobby met me coming the other way at Square Corner and were surprised at how soon I had arrived.  With some much needed words of encouragement I headed on uphill alone with a few spots of rain starting to fall, with grey clouds now darkening overhead and my mood doing the same. It was starting to get hard and I wasn't really prepared mentally for this climb. It was the toughest part of the day.

Starting the lonely climb to Whitestones

I dug in and waited for the low to pass.  Thankfully the summit of Whitestones was soon reached and the long awaited descent appeared.  It was a relief to get some momentum and my mood lifted immenseley.  I felt like I was flying all the way to the next checkpoint at High Paradise Farm (39.5 miles) even though in reality i was probably only running 10 minute miles. It's amazing how lows can be so quickly followed by highs in these events.  I stopped briefly for a gob full of jelly babies and another bottle refill.  From here I was on home turf as I knew the route.  I was going to get this thing done now, it was just a matter of time.  I felt great and said so when I bumped into the folks next near Sneck Yate where I stopped briefly for a glug of coke and a chat. The view from here was breathtaking as the grey sky broke briefly for shafts of late afternoon sunshine to light up the Vale of York.  From here I knew there must only be 15 miles or so to Helmsley and most of my climbing was now behind me.

Sunshine at last! - Near Sneck Yate

Feeling good and some fatherly words of wisdom!

It wasn't all plain sailing though, the steep descent to the final check point at White Horse (45 miles) was torture on my now trashed legs.  Far worse in fact than the much feared steps back up to Sutton Bank. Turning away from Sutton Bank I caught up with a fella struggling a little with route finding near the busy road.  We chatted for a while and I was amused to find he was from Messingham only a few miles from where I was brought up.  We ran and chatted together for a while as the evening started to draw in.  He stopped for a call of nature and I cracked on descending to Rievaulx.  I strapped on the headtorch for the last few miles as it was getting increasingly difficult to be sure of safe footing, then started my final push for the finish line, through the tiny hamlet, up the hill and into the woods.

A few minutes later, I was emerging out of the black with the lights of Helmsley twinkling not far away. The spectacular ruined Castle all lit up and beckoning me to the finish. Emerging onto the streets of Helmsley I even found some energy to kick for the last few hundred yards to the finish at the Town Hall.  I had done it.  Two and a bit off road marathons and twice the height of Ben Nevis in 10hrs and 22 minutes.

The race had been won in a mind blowing 7hrs and 39 mins by 2014 British Athletics ultra trail champ Kim Collison.

A little battle scarred but still smiling

As we headed home in the car, we saw twinkling headtorches making their way along Sutton Bank.  My adventure was over and I felt a little jealous of the runners still out there with a large chapter of their story still to be written. Great job by everyone who finished this tough race from first to last.

Thanks to the Hardmoors family for putting together a brilliant event, I'll definitely be back for some more hilly punishment.  Just let me get my legs working again first! Thanks too to my amazing family for supporting me all the way to the finish.

In a shocking twist of fate Hardmoors ultramarathons turn out to be hard.

Knowledge of this route from recce runs and walks with Bobby helped me so much mentally and enabled me to keep my spirits up when the going got tough.  As a result, I have decided to make the long journey down to Brighton to recce the second half of my next big race.

Next up, a few shorter races, not least the North Lincolnshire Half Marathon with a load of my old muckers and the Trail 26 race in the Howgills.  Really though, everything from here is geared towards the mighty South Downs Way 100 in June. 

Thanks to Rach and dad for use of the photos!

2014 My First Running Year

"The only time you should ever look back is to see how far you have come" - Anon.

I was thinking today when I plodded along on my lunch time run about how much happened last year.  

I've ran off and on for years but never for more than a few weeks at a time.  2014 was my first solid twelve months of training hard, racing more and taking the whole thing a bit more seriously.

So here it is, 2014 in a nutshell...

Miles Run 1,756

Races Finished
Baildon Boundary Way
Reeth 20k
Edinburgh Half Marathon
Swaledale Marathon
The Race to the Stones
Vale of York Half Marathon
Kirkstall Abbey Trail Marathon
Frostbite Ultra 

A nice little haul

Best bits

There were a lot of highlights but to pick out a few...

• Discovering trail running and how much it kicks ass compared to the road for so many reasons. 
• Running trails all over my new home in beautiful Yorkshire.
• Smashing my half marathon pb twice in four months on the road at Edinburgh and York.
• Beating my 2013 road marathon time in the cold, hills and mud at Kirkstall Abbey.
• Running into the arms of Bobby and Rachel after 100km at the end of the Race to the Stones.

Running into the storm - Race to the Stones

Worst bits

• How I felt on the journey back to the hotel after the Race to the Stones.
• Getting chased out of a field by a dozen bullocks in Nidderdale.
• Being brought to a standstill by simultaneous cramp in all of my leg muscles after trashing my quads at the Swaledale Marathon.
• Realising I still had another 4 miles to go after five hours, 3,500 feet of ascent and 30 miles of the Frostbite Ultra. 

Running Lessons Learned

• Run your long weekend run slower than you think you should - no, slower than that even.
• Eat loads on an ultra if you don't want to finish a shriveled grey shadow of your former self.
• Easy on the fibre the night before your long run - you know what I mean!
• Take care of your feet, even small callouses can give you bad blisters on a long run.
• There really is no cure for cramp whatever anyone suggests - tonic water does loads more for gin than it does cramp!
• Be patient and open minded in the long races.  You might need to change your strategy if things don't go to plan.  Embrace the challenge and difficulties which will inevitably come your way.
• If you work hard, are patient and want it bad enough you can do loads more than you think. 

Loads in the diary already for 2015.  The A race though has to be the Centurion South Downs Way 100 in June which has got me pretty excited and nervous.  There's loads to do before then though...

Next up, taking on the Rombalds Stride Winter Challenge after an afternoon session at the Ilkley Beer Festival next week.  Nowt like making it easy for yourself!  

My first Ultra - The race to the stones 19/07/2014

A tough introduction to marathon running at the inaugural Yorkshire marathon last year (injury interrupted training culminating in a 3hr 36mins and a severely cramped walk/run finish) left me feeling a little crestfallen but determined to do a better job of running further and faster in 2014.

The hills are my true passion and in the days following the marathon I became inspired by the amazing endurance feats of the trail legends I read about in 'Feet in the Clouds' and the unbelievable things being done by today's ultra stars.  I decided then that the next thing for me should be something long and on the trails.

When I saw this race it looked a perfect first ultra; lots of runners, lots of aid stations, hills, but not too intimidating and a distance to be respected.  But more than anything it captured my imagination and excited me, 100km on the oldest trail in England.  I wanted to know what it feels like to run such a long race.

The volume in the training plans and the thought of 'back to back' long runs was intimidating at first, as was the thought of eating 'real' food on the run.  This time I promised myself I would listen to my body, run my long runs slower and get through the programme without injury. 

Time on the trails was so much easier on the body and the mind than the road had been.  I was surprised by how easily my body adjusted to the increased mileage compared to the marathon programme by simply slowing down a little on my long runs and allowing for better recovery.  My training adventures took me into the North York Moors, the Yorkshire Dales and the Wicklow hills in Ireland.  I had loads of fun in my first trail races, The Baildon Boundary Way, Reeth 20k and the Swaledale Marathon.  I even managed a half marathon pb on the road at the Edinburgh Marathon festival, running slow and long had made me run faster!

The day finally arrived and I lined up alongside around 1,600 other runners and walkers in Chinnor ready to take on the Ridgeway aiming to finish at the stone circle at Avebury a long time, 1,250m of ascent and 100kms later.  My sister Rachel and my girlfriend Bobby were along for the ride and would meet me on the route to top up powders, hydration tabs and other goodies.

On the start line at Chinnor

The weather was incredibly humid and after a drizzly start I remained drenched for pretty much the first half of the race which took us through beautiful woodland trails and pretty villages.  Staying hydrated was going to be super important and I was careful to drink at least one of my 600ml bottles between aid stations.  

The first part of the race had many more runners as some were breaking the challenge into two days with an overnight camp.  I quickly realised I was running alongside some serious endurance types, ironman veterans and experienced ultra runners.  I had a brief chat with the 'Marathon Man' who was running a marathon a day for a whole year.  It felt great to be running alongside these inspiring people and the vibe was one of smiles and encouragement for the first few hours.

My initial target was to average as close to 6 min/km as possible for the first half of the race as this was what I had managed on my longest  50km training run.  In the end the heat and the hills put paid to that.  Nevertheless the big aid station at 48km became visible high on the ridgeway from several kms away and I passed through the chip timer in reasonable shape in 5hrs 09mins.  So far I had stopped only long enough at aid stations to top up the water bottles but I spent a little longer here and tried to eat, although my stomach wasn't quite ready for the pasta and Bolognese which some of the other guys were chowing down on here.  There were one or two seriously tired looking faces cooling off in the shade here and I hoped I was looking stronger than them.  I attempted to eat a plain chicken sandwich which took more chewing than I would have liked but I knew it was important to eat and fortunately it remained in my increasingly unhappy stomach.  I was feeling a little tired but confident for the challenge ahead, I knew that I would soon be in unknown territory.

From this point on I was expecting much more of a battle and I was not disappointed.  It started badly by losing the well marked trail and running down hill off the route on 54km when I was making good progress.  If it wasn't for someone kindly hollering me I would have carried on to the bottom of the hill when I should have been gaining height.  It looked like loads of runners were passing ahead of me as a result and it seemed to take ages to regain the height and the trail.  I felt gutted, I had lost momentum that had taken me a long time to build.  In the end my Garmin revealed I had only lost around 500m and 4 minutes here. 

The heat continued to rise and the course opened out as the Ridgeway became the highest point for miles.  Beautiful sweeping views stretched into the distance backed by purple skies as the storm clouds gathered.  I wondered how wise it was to be running on the highest point around.  The hills grew steeper and more frequent and the terrain became tougher with deep ruts caused by tyres in the mud and chalk. I tried to maintain momentum up the hills by hiking quickly up them, but as the day wore on, my definition of uphill began to shift.  At this point I was largely running alone as the field had become stretched along the trail.

On the Ridgeway

Around 65km I was met on the hill near the famous white horse by Bobby and Rachel clutching ice cold water supplies and encouraging words but I had hit a low patch.  I crouched down briefly and my hamstrings immediately cramped resulting in expletives and a slight sense of humour failure. I handed over my now dead Garmin and quickly moved on, internally scolding myself for the negative thoughts, I knew this was going to happen, keep drinking, keep eating, keep going...

Sense of humour failure at 65km

After every uphill hiking section it was becoming increasingly difficult to start running again, starting with a shuffle and building to a slow and increasingly painful trot.  I was praying for one of the thunderstorms rumbling either side of the ridgeway to hit and provide some cooling relief.  We finally got one around 75km, however the rain was warm and it didn't really bring the relief I was hoping for.  Then out of the blue there were Bobby and Rachel on the side of the busy road under brollies in the torrential downpour shouting encouragement, crazy girls, amazing support and this lifted me immensely.

The storm breaks

The next 14km were the hardest of the entire race and I had to mentally push myself in a way I had never had to before.  The desire to just walk was overwhelming at times but I knew I needed to run where I could or I would still be out there for many hours yet.  I realised why they say so much of this ultra thing is in the mind.  Despite this I passed a few runners during this time and I tried to offer some encouraging words as I passed.

The final checkpoint came into view after a steep pull at 89km, and then the sun came out.  My amazing race crew were there again and I trotted into the checkpoint and refueled with full fat coke and a banana.  My watch told me I had 1hr and 30 minutes to run the last 11km to break 12hrs.  Sounds easy now, but I was feeling really tired and whilst I knew it would be close I wasn't sure I would do it.  I resolved to dig deep and run the entire leg, surely I would do it then.

Running into final checkpoint 9

In the end I did end up doing some hiking on this leg but not much.  It was seriously mind over matter by now and my feet whilst blister free were feeling pretty battered.  I didn't let myself think of the finish, just concentrating on maintaining the momentum. Suddenly a village appeared in the valley below I guessed at around 5km away and when the descent started, I checked my watch and tried to push once again.  Eventually emerging onto the road the village sign came into view and thankfully it read 'Avebury', next the ancient stones and with only 2km to go I realised I was going to break 12 hrs even if I walked from there.

Rounding the final corner and seeing the line, I had the final few hundred metres to myself and the people there were making such a racket just for me!  I finished wearily, but proud in 11hrs 52mins and it had been an amazing adventure.  I had lost close to half a stone but gained an experience I will never forget.

 Finish!

My first foray into the world of the Ultra had been a tough but rewarding adventure.  Just over a week later and the legs have recovered well.  For anyone thinking of doing this race I would say it was well organised and well supported on a beautiful trail.  Thanks to the support from all of the crews at the aid stations and those who came out to support, it really did make a difference. 

The biggest thanks has to go to Bobby and Rachel who followed me around all day offering encouragement and support.  It would have been so much tougher without you - legends!

I already know I'd like to see what else lies beyond the marathon.  There are so many exciting races out there in some spectacular places.  I can't wait to get started on the next project.