Do the thing you fear most and the death of fear is instant - Mark Twain
My epic challenge looms large on the horizon and I confess there is some fear there. I guess its the butterflies that tell me that the challenge is such a worthy one which I've already worked so hard for.
I'm running further in training than ever before as I now enter the meat of my training for UTMB. Unfortunately I don't live in the Alps so I've been travelling a little further than my local trails in the North York Moors in search of bigger hills to condition my legs for the assault they will take on Mont Blanc.
This is where the V3K Skyrace comes in. Skyrunning is all about racing in the mountains on very technical terrain and Snowdonia is the perfect place for this. To walk the Welsh 15 Snowdonian peaks above 3000 feet is a classic hiking challenge to be covered in 24 hours summit to summit. This race covers the same route with the addition of a climb of Snowdon and the descent to race HQ at Hendre Hall at the foot of the Carneddau range. Over 4,000m of ascent packed in to only 55km makes this an ultra distance challenge to be reckoned with.
Race entrants are vetted carefully and must be able to evidence sufficient mountain experience to convince the organisers that they are capable of finishing. Whilst this would be the most technical running event I have taken on and my first Skyrace, I have quite a lot of experience hiking scrambling and climbing in the mountains which did the trick. I also joined some fellow competitors for a recce weekend prior to the race which helped prepare the mind and the legs for what was to come.
In addition to being a brilliant celebration of running in some of the best mountain terrain the UK has to offer this event also has the added twist of the Vegan element. All competitors promised to remain Vegan for the duration of race day.
Nail biting! - Yeah those scrambly bits do look a bit gnarly...
Arriving in a bit of a flap 5 minutes before the race briefing on Friday evening I found a brilliantly buzzing race headquarters and a welcome plate of pasta and delicious cake after a long drive. Following this was kit check and tracker fitting and after that there wasn't much else to do other than try to get my head down in my tent next door ready for a 4 am bus and 5 am race start.
After a fitful few hours the alarm was sounding too soon at 3.20 am. I scoffed some almond milk and cereal and deposited my groggy self on the bus hoping to catch a few more minutes snooze on the hour or so ride to the start at the foot of Snowdon's South Ridge.
After being stood for long enough to be savaged by the waiting midgies it was a relief to be setting off on the climb up Snowdon. In my mind this race was to be a training event first and foremost so I resolved to start slowly and work my way into it. That way I hoped to pass a few other runners and potentially work my way through the field a little.
Doing battle with Crib Goch
This truly is a stunning route but there wouldn't be much of it on view today. The clag had descended in force and left a lovely greasy film of moisture on the polished rock of Crib Goch and Tryfan. This is my fourth time on Crib Goch in the last couple of years and this was definitely the spiciest encounter as I slipped and squirmed over the ridge in my squeaky yellow daps.
Crib Goch used to be a place which held an element of fear for me as it took me so long to get round to actually doing it. It is a true knife edge arête with sustained exposure and some stomach churning drops. It is a rite of passage for people who love the British mountains and a classic day out in its own right. I would say if you can pick a dry day and not too windy for your first attempt (unlike the photo above!) take your time and can keep your head its not so bad and can actually be lots of scrambly fun!
It goes to show how things have changed as I have gained experience and pushed my comfort zone these last few years. The fear has gone with familiarity, but the respect remains. I am in awe of those mountain goats who can bury their vertigo and skip along the crest without a care in the world. It definitely remains a strictly hands on affair for me with the occasional bum slide!
Other 'runners' on Crib Goch
Thankfully I made it over the ridge in one piece although it took a little longer than I might have liked and it was on to the descent of the red screes where I took a few falls and picked up the first of what would become a collection of bumps and bruises for the day.
The Welsh 3000s are broken up into three perfect stages, Snowdon, Glyders and Carneddau, each distinct in nature with the latter being easily the least technical. I hoped to have enough gas left after all the climbing to be able to put together some actual proper running for the grassy Carneddau plateau.
After grabbing a few Vegan snacks and topping up the water bottles at Nant Peris it was soon onto what I knew would be one of the worst climbs of the day onto Elidir Fawr. I got my head down and found I was climbing strong and starting to catch a few people which made my confidence grow.
The trail was well marked with little red flags every 50 metres or so. Unfortunately the visibility on the tops was well below this at times which left you feeling on edge for a few moments after passing each one before the next one came into view. It can be a maze up there but I didn't need to break out my gps or map once even in the clag.
After negotiating the Glyders and the horrible descent down the Bristly screes Tryfan was scaled quickly and descended and I found myself amongst a group of runners at the aid station in the Ogwen valley. A festival of Vegan food was waiting for us and I was now ravenous. I gorged on sandwiches, soup fruit and fizzy pop which fuelled me to the summit of Pen yr Ole Wen, the last valley to summit climb of the day.
High on the Carneddau the clouds finally broke and we were able to run in the sunshine a little. As I reached the final summit of Foel Grach I had started to feel a little ropey, I couldn't quite believe that I needed to eat again after stuffing myself back down in the valley. Neverthless the poor old marshal fished out a now pureed banana from my race vest which I wolfed down and immediately started to feel better.
Time to hot tail it home and I found my legs were good to trot all the way back to Hendre Hall for more yummy Vegan treats. Not sure whether this was a running event with amazing food or a food event with some amazing running thrown in!
I came home in 11 hours and 33 minutes a time I was satisfied with given where I am at with my training right now. My summit to summit time for the 15 peaks was 8 hours and 51 minutes.
This is a definite step up in technicality to trail running with hands on rock scrambling and so much hands on knees climbing! The Vegan element and the fact it is already a classic mountain challenge makes it a unique race. I'd love to come back for another crack to see how fast I can go with a bit of a taper, hopefully with some views next time!
Thanks to the organisers and the plucky marshals stood for hours in the dreich conditions high in the hills. Thanks too to Scott Seefeldt for the amazing pictures more of which you can find here.
In other news a ten mile pb at the Otley 10 road race the other day. You don't get many ten milers to the pound and this is a local classic.
I am always wondering whether this long trail stuff will be at the expense of speed but volume of training still seems to be doing the trick. I was chuffed to complete this hilly race on a Wednesday evening in 1.04.48 without any recent speed work. I wonder if there will be time for one or two more pbs before the year is out...?
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!
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.
The world is mud-licious and puddle-wonderful - E E Cummings
So for most people going to bed before ten on New Years Eve is not their idea of fun. But for me the first of January is my birthday and my idea of a fun birthday is not to spend it with the hangover from hell. This year would be different, I resolved to ignore the call of the bottle and spend it doing something I love, running on the trails of the Yorkshire Moors.
Need a new pose for these photos!
The Hardmoors 30 is the first of Jon and Shirley Steele's Hardmoors ultra series and previous readers of my posts will know that I am a huge fan of these races. Racing with the Hardmoors guys was all the excuse I needed to bail out of the festivities in exchange for a righteously smug New Years Day.
At the end of last year I decided to enter all of the races to make the Hardmoors 'grand slam' a major target for 2017. Since my success in the UTMB draw last week though I will have to see whether it is possible to complete the slam with the final event, the Hardmoors 60 coming only two weeks after the little trot around Mont Blanc. I guess we'll just have to wait and see how things pan out. Nevertheless, I will still be towing the start line at the 55 again and the 110 for the first time.
Bobby on the 15 route
Starting at Robin Hoods Bay the route for the 30 (miles) follows the Cleveland Way coastal path between Whitby and Ravenscar linking them with the disused railway line cinder track. Unlike some of the shorter Hardmoors races, this one didn't have any 'bonus' miles which was a relief so early in the year! I had run the coastal section several times before including at the Hardmoors 60 in 2015 so knew how beautiful the route would be but also how tough the climbs could be up and down to the bays and beaches.
Ben was there again using the event as a good warm up for his first 50 miler at the 55 (good luck with your training buddy) in March and Paul making his marathon debut (why make things easy with a road marathon eh?). Bobby would be trying the 15 taking in the Whitby loop of the 30 route.
No finish - No shirt!
I have made huge progress with my road times in the past 18 months but not so much on the trail. This year I need to make some headway off-road so my target was to get under 5 hours and get towards the top ten percent which would be an improvement on my last few outings.
The weather was what you would expect from the Yorkshire Coast in January. Cold and windy (think waterfalls being blown upwards and then showering down on you) and the coastal trail was very muddy but this is what we came for right!? Despite this I knew that some serious headway could be made on the flat, sheltered and runnable Cinder Track if I kept enough back in my legs from the muddy coastal sections.
What better way to spend New Years Day?
I dithered a little over the right shoes (good grip but less comfort or less grip and more comfort). In the end comfort won but at the cost of some seriously sketchy mud sliding.
The race was hard but I managed my mental state well even when the inevitable cramp struck after 20 miles or so. Keeping a steady pace and finally emerging after the killer climb up to the Village Hall at Robin Hoods Bay in 4hrs 50 mins. My position was 22 out of 217 finishers which is much higher up the order than I have been in my last few runs on the trail.
I was quite chuffed with how the race went. Starting a bit more conservatively meant that I was still passing runners all the way to the finish which is a far more satisfying way to race than be hanging on as everyone streams past at the end.
Well done to Ben and Paul who both finished under their target times and to Bobby for finishing strongly in the 15. We're starting to accrue a proper little trail running posse, I wonder who we can rope in next!?
I am so happy and proud to have finally earned my place on the start line of this years UTMB. To say finishing this race would be a step up would be a massive understatement but I earned the right to be there the same as the others. I need to up my game on the training front and give this race my full focus to maximise my chances of a finish. As a result, I still intend to run the Hardmoors 55 and 110 but they will be part of my preparation now rather than as being the major targets for the year.
From here all roads lead to Chamonix for the race of my life...
“You would run much slower if you were dragging something behind you, like a knapsack or a sheriff.” - Lemony Snicket
Having just finished my last trot of 2016 I thought I'd post something about how its gone with my running this year.
After a slow start and a while taken to relocate my AWOL mojo, two goals for the year slowly started to emerge. To maintain my UTMB qualifying status and to post some quicker road times at last.
Training weekend in the Lakes
Fewer miles this year, 1,740 to be precise, fewer races too, but faster times. So how did I get on? Well, by sneaking in a Parkrun with only a couple of weeks to spare, I'm chuffed to say I got both bagged...
Best bits
The best hug ever from my dad after finishing proud at the Ultimate Trails 110k in the Lakes.
Its been great to post some faster times this year but I have learned how difficult it is to improve as much as I'd like at everything from 5k to 100 miles (well, duh!). To get close to a three hour marathon is going to require much more focus and it certainly isn't going to happen any time soon as I'm still loving the trails too much.
2017 will be the year of the ultra, starting in a few days on New Years Day at the Hardmoors 30 at Robin Hoods Bay for what promises to be a bracing 50k on the coast. Unlike last year, I already have my major races lined up for 2017 with the two most exciting being the Hardmoors 110 (my second 100 miler) and the V3k in Snowdonia (my first Skyrunning event).
Then there is the UTMB ballot again in a few weeks time. Double chance this year for the greatest race in the world but I'm trying to not get my hopes up too much. If I'm unsuccessful this year, its guaranteed for 2018 assuming I finish what I've got planned.
Couldn't finish this without showing off my one of a kind medal hanger created for me by my dad for a Christmas box. Had loads of fun loading it up and reminiscing of battles won and lost...
Looking forward to more running adventures in 2017. Happy New Year!
"If I can get better, why not?"- Emil Zatopek
One of the reasons I started writing this blog was to record my thoughts and experiences about running my first ultra distance race when I finished the Race to the Stones in 2014.
This post is partially about Parkrun so its amazing to see how far I've come in the last three years and over 4,000 miles!
One of my major running goals this year was to put down some times on the road I feel happier with and having got personal bests at half and marathon earlier in the year, the past few weeks have been about maintaining consistent training but also squeezing in a 5k and 10k road race.
It might sound strange but I've never raced over these distances so any time would be a personal best but I still wanted to see where I am at and put down a marker for each distance before the year is out.
The 10k was at the Leeds Abbey Dash with my colleagues and some clients from BDB. It was a cool and wet morning perfect for running if a little cold. Bobby and Ben were also there hunting down a pb (and succesfully I might add).
From BDB there were some notable performances. Andrew nailed a sub 40 time after a long recovery from a horrific leg break (nice one fella) and Gill and Amy completed their first (and last Gill?) ever races. It was great to share the experience with so many friends and a mid morning beer afterwards! Awesome running by everyone
I had a good run if a shade too conservative at the start on reflection. I finished in 38.16 which was well inside my target of 39 minutes.
Sporting my red BDB shirt at the Leeds Abbey Dash
Despite having a reputation for fast times, having reviewed mine and others Strava records it looks like the course measured a little long (maybe 100 metres?). So sub 38 minutes looks like a great target for the next 10k attempt.
I have been saying I want to do a Parkrun for ages but because i do my long runs on Saturday it has never quite happened. Yesterday I realised I was running out of time this year so I just fit York Parkrun into my long run and did the rest after (a grim 11 miles after charging around a 5k so I will not be making a habit of this!). Getting my excuses in like a proper amateur athlete, I have a rotten cold and made loads of mistakes. My time was 18.36 which felt ok all considering. 18 minutes looks like a worthy next step to aim for...
That completes the slam of road bests in 2016. It has certainly given me a confidence boost and a better feel for where I am with my running. Hours on the trails is the best fun but its difficult sometimes to see how you're progressing as no two runs are the same.
I'm not sure what opportunity I'll get to shoot for faster times next year. I have some major ultra plans which is about going long and not fast so its been great to get some quicker markers down for the future.
I am already into my training plan for the Hardmoors 110 in May 2017, with the next major target being a 50k on New Years Day at the Hardmoors 30. What better way to spend your birthday!?
'Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional' Haruki Murakami
So to the Yorkshire Marathon. My home marathon and what a great event. Super slick organisation, a great route through the beautiful city and then the villages of Stockton, Stamford Bridge and Dunnington. The weather dawned cool and sunny and the good folk of York were out in force to cheer us on once again.
This is the fourth edition of this marathon which has deservedly earned a great reputation and my third attempt. Given the countryside around York, lots of people go into this race expecting a pancake flat course, but the two 'out and backs' and the lumps and bumps along the way make for a tougher challenge than first expected.
My running targets at the start of this year were to maintain my UTMB qualifying status (which I did in the Lakes in July) and then an ambitious grand slam of personal bests across 5k, 10k, half marathon and marathon on the road.
With the half pb in the bag at North Lincs in May, this would be the one chance at a marathon pb in 2016, and in the days leading up the nerves really started to build.
I had such a good day last year at this race as I cruised round easily in 3.26. This year, the preparation was a little better (decided to skip the ankle sprain this time) but with still only five weeks to get ready after the TMB hike this summer it would by no means be easy to go faster.
I did manage to squeeze in some good runs around 17-20 miles in the short period I had given myself but I did feel undercooked. I also set myself an ambitious target of 3.15 which is closer to the time suggested by my strong performance at the North Lincs Half in May.
Despite executing the first half of the race perfectly, the dreaded cramp set in from mile 16 or so which is seriously early. Whilst I managed to maintain a good pace for a further four miles after that, it was all I could do to ease off and make the best of it after mile 20.
In the end a time of 3.19.26 was a big pb but it was bitter sweet given how strong I felt. If it wasn't for the cramp, I am sure I could have gone under the 3.15 barrier but I guess 5 weeks just wasn't enough time to condition my legs for this run. If I hadn't dialled down the pace in the way that I did, my cramp would definitely have brought me to a halt and the pb chance would be gone. So I guess in a way it was good to still salvage a personal best time despite the painful last few miles.
A big shout out to my old mucker Ben who cruised under his four hour target. He's come a long way in the last year or so and its great to see how much he improves with every run.
Having spent so long focusing on going long on the trail for the past few years, this was a good reminder of why the road 26.2 deserves so much respect. If I'm going to get closer to the 3hr mark, I'm going to need a proper run up and a more singular focus.
This is the second time this year I have cramped badly in a race, the other being at Osmotherley in May. I thought I had put the cramps behind me with my running but it has returned in a big way this year. I'm putting it down to insufficient specific prep combined with running a sustained faster pace but time will tell I guess. I will need to find an answer if I'm going to continue to improve.
In hindsight whilst I have enjoyed running faster this year, it is proving difficult to satisfy my expectations of myself over these disparate disciplines. Perhaps I was just too ambitious this time. I can be pretty hard on myself and sometimes focus so hard on the negatives I forget to acknowledge the progress I'm still making with my running.
Anyways enough navel gazing, I'm half way to my pb slam!
Next up is to see how fast I can go at the 10k at Leeds Abbey Dash where I have a target to go under 40 minutes. I may go for that 5k pb at my first parkrun as some speedy preparation.
Only three weeks to go so I've given myself another uphill battle to get ready. Nowt like making it easy for yourself!
