The South Downs Way 100 - 13/06/2015

'Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way!' - Dr Seuss

So, the day finally arrived. My fourth ultra in twelve months only a year and eight months since that painful first marathon.  In my broken state then, I would never have guessed I'd be here at 6am in Winchester on a warm and overcast morning about to attempt run 100 miles.  I've crammed in a lot of running adventures since then and learned so much about this awesome pursuit of trail running.

Friday night registration and kit check - it all sounds so simple!

All ready for off - 6am start at Winchester

The South Downs Way 100 is one of the tougher 100 mile races in the UK due to the 4,000m of ascent between Winchester and Eastbourne.  It carries a weighty 4 UTMB qualifying points and is also a ballot qualifier for the original and most prestigious 100 mile race in the world; the Western States Endurance Run. Based on previous years, around a third of the starters wouldn't be making it to the end in time for the 30 hour cut off.

I had a dream target to get one of the special '100 miles one day' buckles and had made a schedule for 23 hours based on previous finishers times.  In the days leading up to the race I tried to reconcile that this was my first 100 and not to be too disappointed if it didn't work out that way given how much can go wrong.  I knew my pace would be fine for the first half but everything beyond mile 62 would be a step into the unknown.

I had my elite race crew of Rachel and Bobby in tow with a boot full of kit and produce resembling a 5 year old's birthday party buffet.  This was in addition to the 14 aid stations on the route.  Shortage of food was not going to be an issue although I realised if I spent 5 minutes in each I would be adding 70 minutes onto my time even before I spent any with my crew.  Don't hang around at aid stations!

I set off too quick, landing at the first major check point after 22.6 miles in 3hrs 33 feeling brilliant and being swept along with the excitement of it all.  My crew informed I had gained almost 20 minutes on my schedule already.  I wasn't too worried though, I knew the first half of the race was more runnable than the second due to the hills being more rolling than the steep ups and downs to come. My tactic was to run long and hard from the start and see what I had left at the end, I didn't want to finish in 24.01 wondering what if?

This was pretty naive in hindsight and I would be paying for it soon enough.

Time for a refuel Queen Elizabeth Country Park

  
I would next see Rachel and Bob at Cocking after 35 miles and what a difference a couple of hours had made.

Whilst I was still moving quickly, I now felt terrible.  The heat was building, I wasn't injured but I felt weak and I had so far to go.  I had hit the wall big time, my head was mashed.

A playlist of negative thoughts swishing around my brain.  Why am I doing this? It is stupid and pointless.  What am I trying to prove? and, Who even cares?

The only thing that kept me going was the thought of living with a DNF only a third of the way in just for 'not feeling it'.  I grunted and grumped at my crew and tried to smash as much food into my face as I could in the hope it would shake me out of my black hole.  I was then off again heading back up into the hills with a dark cloud hovering above my head.

What happened next was amazing, my biggest low was followed an hour later by the biggest high.  I started to feel strong again as the calories kicked in.  I had the most amazing runners high which made the hairs on my neck stand on end.  I was running strong and free again after 45 miles and breezed into Amberley grinning like a loon.

Amberley crew station - Feeling good

I now knew what was to come having recced the remainder a few weeks previous. This gave me a boost despite the huge distance still to go.  We were into the most beautiful part of the SDW now, a stunning rollercoaster of chalk hills with views down into lush green fields and wildflowers all set to a skylark soundtrack.  There was nothing to do but drink it all in and eat up the miles whilst the legs still allowed. What a stunning landscape.

Half way passed and then the Washington aid station where I high fived Elvis at 54 miles in 9hrs 46. Around 45 minutes ahead of schedule now.

The next 15 miles passed in a blur, the sun came out, it got hot and then cool again, shadows grew, the landscape became more beautiful and colours were turned up to eleven as the end of the day got closer.  I dropped into Clayton Windmills at 70 miles and found myself back amongst a group having being on my own quite a while.  I was now starting to do those sums in my head, I think I can do this, I can walk 30 miles, even if I run only a little I've got a good chance of my 24 hour dream if I can just hold it together.

My feet were feeling pretty battered now from the rock hard chalk and flint under foot.  I joined the other guys in running a few yards off the trail on the softer grass to relieve the punishment.

Big skies - summer shows itself on the SDW

Man those chalk and flint trails are tough on the plates of meat

Soon after a quick stop at Jack and Jill the iconic windmills at 70 miles, I was climbing up to Ditchling Beacon and a familiar face was running towards me.  Rachel had hiked up the trail and it was great to run with her for a mile or so.  When we got towards the car I stopped to check out my feet as I could feel a pressure blister building on my right heel.  Bobby quickly slapped on some compeed to provide a little protection and I winced in pain as I eased my battered foot back into my shoe.

The night was beginning to draw in now and it was soon time for the planned change of shirt and adding of a base layer.

Housedean Farm was the next stop where we were met by the most brilliant aid station crew.  They really were looking after people here in a brilliant and super efficient way.  Emotions are running high after 77 miles, just the right combination of words of comfort, steel and encouragement struck just the right chord.  I was lifted once more.  Thanks guys, you were amazing.

The feared night time section was now just around the corner.  I wasn't sure whether I would see my crew again now until the end.  I had given strict instructions for them to rest after such a long day trailing around after me, not that they paid any attention!

As the night drew in the mist descended and visibility dropped to only a few feet.  Headtorches simply reflected their beams back like the lights of a car in fog.  I was worried that progress would become painfully slow or worse, I would take a wrong turn.  The temperature had dropped away and I stuck on my waterproof to keep the increasing wind at bay.

By now I had buddied up with my new pal Ron from Northern Ireland a veteran of 20 ultras (doing the SDW100 as part of a stag weekend!?) and we resolved to get this thing done together.  We chatted through the night and I was glad of the company.  We fed off each other during the toughest part of the race and worked as a team so as not to make any navigational mistakes.  Running had now pretty much turned into a quick march due to the visibility, the hills and fatigue. Getting lost now would be devastating.

I couldnt believe it when Bobby and Rachel were at Bo-Peep stood on the top of a cold moor in the fog at almost 11 pm.  They gave us a lovely welcome.  Now that is what you call proper support!  Ron was amazed by their commitment and when asked by Rach if he wanted anything he just responded with 'a hug' so I duly obliged!

The last two aid stations came and went in a flurry of sugary tea and soup. The volunteers here truly are legends giving up their own time to nurse the remaining zombies home in the middle of the night.  Some people we passed were really starting to struggle now but my own discomfort had pretty much plateaued, I could smell that finish line now.

Two big hills to climb and we were then up by the trig point above Eastbourne.  You could almost reach out and touch the lights of the running track blazing into the night and calling us home.  A couple of hardy volunteers were camped up there to guide us the right way down a never ending bone crunching descent down a flint chute before being deposited onto the streets of Eastbourne.

I am afraid that running had long since ceased and all I could lift myself to do was maintain a quick march the last couple of flat miles home under the street lights of Eastbourne.  I was passed by quite a few people here, most had been lifted to run it home on the flat accompanied by words of encouragement from their pacer.  I was jealous of their pacers, I didn't even have Ron anymore.  He had drifted behind as I tried to keep up the marching pace.  It is my only regret that I lacked the will to lift myself to run again for the last couple of miles.

After what seemed like an eternity I was rounding the bend onto the athletics track.  I heard Rachel shout for me and the others there clapped.  I was glad to be able to run those last 400 metres round the track finishing wearily in 21hrs and 43 minutes.

It was done.

I felt strangely numb as I was handed my buckle.  I think I left my emotion along with everything else out there on the trail.

Scary eyes! - A 176,000 yard stare

So that's it, all over.  Well done for reading this far.  So much happens on a long ultra, yet your brain isn't working very well by the end.  It is hard to remember it all.

I can't quite believe I ran 100 miles. I still don't know how I feel about it other than it feels big.  My body has never taking this much punishment but I am recovering well now that the pain has subsided enough to sleep properly.

Buckles are awarded at 100 mile races rather than medals to acknowledge their roots in old horseback trail events in the US 

100 mile events are brutal and could not be achieved by mere mortals without the assistance of so many volunteers who deliver care, compassion and encouragement in truckloads all in their own time.  Thankyou so much for making this possible, the Centurion Running community is very special.

Equally huge thanks to Rachel and Bobby, you did everything I could have asked for and more.

Finally, a huge well done to everyone with the courage to stand on that start line to take on this or any other 100 miler.  Whether you finished in 17hrs or DNF'd after 20 miles, every one of you are an inspiration and I doff my running cap to you all.

The Montane Howgills Trail 26 - 17/05/2015

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings" - John Muir

I had been really looking forward to this race all year.  A marathon in the magnificent Howgill Fells.

The Howgills are great saddleback hills separating the famous Lakeland Fells and the smaller hills and valleys of the Yorkshire Dales.  The area is quiet and beautiful and I have visited for hiking before and knew it would make great trail running country. Mountains are a passion and I was excited to experience the biggest hills I have run yet.

The race starts and finishes in the pretty town of Sedbergh and is organised by the same guys who put on the famous Lakeland 100 ultra.  What works for them as a warm up has got to be good enough for me and my prep for the South Downs Way 100 which is my A race this year.

Cool shirt memento

I made an early start driving over from York and arrived to grey skies but high cloud.  It was cool if a little breezy, all in all not bad for running.

We were led from the race hq down to the start line by a lone bagpiper which was a nice touch although I'm not sure what the locals would have made of a load of lunatics and a piper disturbing their Sunday morning peace.

The first five miles are tough climbing straight out of Sedbergh, up to Winder and then the Calf at 674m in height.  The going here was tough and the wind had grown stronger and colder.  For the steepest sections the most effective tactic was to simply stick your backside out and hike to save some gas for the remaining 20 miles or so.

Once the top is reached the brakes come off for a brilliant technical rocky descent across remote terrain into Bowderdale. The trail was pretty wet and I managed to catch and pass a few runners here making a meal of the mud and standing water by simply ploughing on through - great fun!

Awesome Howgills trails

Now in the valley bottom there were a few muddy miles meandering over to Ravenstonedale and then another hard climb on quiet roads on the flanks of Harter Fell.

The next section for me was the best part of the day.  Just as you drag yourself wearily to the top of the climb you were rewarded with a spectacular flying descent back down to the River Rawthay in the shadow of Cautley Spout. This section was just awesome with the Howgills looming over you and some truly spectacular views of this rugged and special place.

It sounds weird I know for a tough marathon in the mountains that I actually felt sad at this point that the race would all be over in an hour or so.  I'm not sure I've had this much fun in a trail race before.

Soothing stream crossing after 20 odd miles of tough trail

Soon we were following the river home via some cooling stream crossings (bliss on the now battered feet) to finish on the town playing fields in Sedbergh.

I came in 26th in 4.26 out of 159 runners

A great route which was well marked, beautiful mountains and a brilliant little adventure.  I even managed to miss out on my usual fall.   The Howgills were everything I was expecting and more. Thanks to the Trail 26 guys for organising a fab race, for all the jelly babies and for a couple of the photos used here.

So thats it then, the next race will be the big one.  100 miles and 4,000m of ascent along the South Downs Way in only three weeks or so.  It seems mad to see such big numbers in black and white but I'm going to give it everything I've got.  If I have half as much fun as I have had in all the training and preparations this year I'll be ok.

DNF or glory, I'll see you on the other side....

The North Lincolnshire Half Marathon - 02/05/2015

A good friend knows your best stories, a best friend has lived them with you

A rare return to the road this month to run the North Lincs half which is held in the town I grew up in (not so sunny) Scunthorpe.

The main draw of this race was to run with three of my oldest friends Mark, Ben and Chris. They each had their own goals for the race with Mark looking to go under 90 minutes for the first time, Ben looking for a pb and Chris looking to finish his first half. I decided to run in my Scunthorpe United colours in a cynical ploy to get more jelly babies on the course. Ben had opted for the old school singlet in an attempt to channel his Normanby Park AC under 12s form and Mark was obviously chasing the fetish support having gimped up in a ravishing pair of comedy black foot marigolds (vibrams).

We shivered together on the start line in the pouring rain for what seemed like forever before we were finally off, around 1,500 runners streaming out of town and onto the country roads.

Poser - note marigolds on the left

Mark and I decided to run together as I was feeling pretty confident about going under 90 minutes and it worked well as we paced each other for the first 10 miles. The weather even eased a little after an hour or so and the yellow flowering fields of rape looked spectacular with the purple storm clouds as a backdrop. The route is fast and flat and passes through the villages of Butterwick and Burringham before heading East back to Scunthorpe with a lap of the pitch at fortress Glanford Park, home of Scunthorpe United to finish. The shirt drew a few cheers from the hardy supporters braving the downpour on the route.

A pacy peacock

As 10 miles approached we were well on track for Mark's sub 90 target and I realised if i got a wriggle on i could still have a crack at my own pb so I decided to push on and see what i could do. I was able to make up some time but a combinaton of my recent heavy mileage, a lingering cold and a return of the maelstrom for a testing last mile meant I just missed out.

Mark digging deep for the final mile

In the end i was pretty satisfied with 1.28.18 on the day given i have mostly been running slow and long on trails this year.  The time didn't really matter, the best thing about this race was sharing it with my mates and it was awesome to be there with them and see them achieve.

Mark followed me home soon after I'd finished breaking the 90 minute mark for the first time despite a tough last few miles.  Equal kudos goes to Ben who blasted to a 10 minute pb and some nicely chafed nipples to sneak under 1.45 and Chris getting home looking fresh as a daisy in his first half marathon.

Shiny

I think putting a decent dent in my Half Marathon pb is going to require a different approach with some focussed training targeted to take me under 1.25.  All of this mileage for the trail ultras is great for endurance but not very good for improving speed over these shorter distances on the road.  Its quite cool though to feel like there are potentially faster HM times in there waiting to be extracted!

Although there were one or two issues with parking and some examples of rather militant stewarding, if you are after a fast half you can't go far wrong with this one and the finish in the stadium adds a nice touch.  Well done to everyone who braved the elements especially the heroic marshalls.

Next up a tough marathon in the mountains at the Howgills Trails 26 before the big one fewer than 6 weeks away!

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!

Rombalds Stride Winter Challenge 07/02/2015

The Rombalds Stride is a 23 mile race following a loop from Guiseley taking in Yorkshire's finest scenery.  It goes up the Airedale Valley, over Rombalds Moor to Ilkley and across Otley Chevin.  The event has a great reputation locally for being a tough challenge given the distance, ascent and wintry conditions it is often run in.

It is an LDWA event however there were certainly more runners than walkers on this occasion.

Yes I did look this tired before I set off

The route is tough and beautiful with a nasty sting in the tail where you have to climb the Chevin (where I had my arse handed to me by two guys giving away at least 20 years) before the final descent back to Guiseley.  The conditions on the day went from freezing cold skating on ice and snow up on the Moor to squelching through the mud in Spring sunshine on the Chevin.

Up on the Chevin

If all that doesn't sound tough enough, I'm now going to take a few words to offer some top tips for making it a little harder for yourself...

• Go out drinking all afternoon the day before at the Ilkley beer festival so that you are really dehydrated and you get horrendous cramp after 17 miles.
• Go to bed late and struggle to get to sleep until 3.30 am the night before the race.
• Pack your gloves away out of reach so that your hands freeze up like blocks of wood up on the freezing moor.
• Tie your shoelaces like a three year old so that you have to stop TWICE! to tie them which takes ages because your hands are now made of wood.
• Fall over, batter your knee and squeal like a big jessie so that the guy in front of you (thanks again fella) has to turn around and run back to you to check you're okay.
• Don't bother having a proper recce of the route so you take a wrong turning and end up on a shiny housing estate where you get gawped at (understandably) by the locals out washing their cars.
• Run with a rucksack which contains 3 times more kit (and weight) than you need where the water bottles are strategically placed just out of reach.

Just a flesh wound

The main problem was complacency.  I had done okay in my two races at the end of last year and presumed I could just turn up, run well and basically get away with it.  Some of the things were unavoidable (for example, all of that kit was a test carry for the Hardmoors 55 next month) some were just schoolboy errors.  I still ended up with an okay time of 3.41 but it felt like a poor run and it is pants when you are hobbling along with cramp as other racers stream past you.

Finishing in one piece - just!

On the plus side, after being recommended LDWA events by so many people I now know why.  The route was stunning with plenty of aid stations where there was ample drinks, fig rolls and even a bacon sarnie if you fancied one!  Thanks to all involved at the LDWA and the 15th Airedale Scouts who organise this cracking event, I promise to do it justice next time!  To top it all there was a full on gravy dinner waiting for the finishers back at St Oswalds Junior school at the end.

As I write this my calves have just about recovered and I reflect on lessons learned, particularly around the kit carry and pack for the Hardmoors.  It seems I needed a kick up the backside and this one is timely given there's only a month or so to go until the next big one.

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!  

Frostbite Ultra 06/12/2014

"Run fast, don't fall over, have fun" - Sarah (Bobby) Fisher

These were the strict instructions given by my missus before the race.  I only achieved one off the list but it was the most important...

Keep running up that hill

The Frostbite is a 30+ mile ultramarathon around the skyline of beautiful Nidderdale from Pateley Bridge. This was the third running of the race and for various reasons to date no two have been over the same course.

Ever since I ran a recce of part of this route a few weeks ago, I had been really looking forward to this race.  What a beautiful place to come challenge yourself on the trails and a brilliant last race to top off a great year of running adventures.

A cold dawn breaks over Nidderdale

Arriving to a beautiful morning and a hard frost just raised the excitement for this run, perfect conditions for a race called the Frostbite!  The race HQ was at the scout hut in Pateley Bridge where I grabbed a coffee and a banana whilst I registered (aka signing your life away).  The room was buzzing with nervous energy and I indulged in a little people watching.  A wide range of ages, characters and kit on display.  I carried a couple of 9bars (awesome seedy flapjacks) in my race vest as back up but I knew there were going to be aid stations at 10 and 20 miles so packed relatively light with just the required waterproof and O/S Map apart from my two vest bottles which I'd made up with Torq Energy drink the night before.  I wore running tights and a base layer on top, a wooly hat and gloves which proved a perfect setup as I was neither too hot or cold all day.

Rob the race organiser gave a quick safety brief, and we all filed out the cosy scout hut into the fresh morning air.  I said a quick hello to my sister who had dragged her friends Ruth and Greg and their dogs along to wave me off.  Thankfully given the temperature we were off pretty sharpish heading out South alongside the river on the road which provided a great little warm up for the climb to come.

The Starting Horn Sounds

The first 10 miles were a loop ending back at the Scout hut including a steep climb for which there was going to be a 'King of the Mountains' prize.  I had made my usual mistake of starting too far back and I did get a little slowed down by other runners whilst we hiked up the narrow trails.  Once the top was reached, I was able to get by a few and it was great fun, hurtling back downhill on the frozen trail, blue skies overhead, all of Nidderdale in front of us and Pateley Bridge down below.  This is why we do this...

Descending through the woods after 4 miles I tripped and faceplanted.  I'd been enjoying the run so much I wasn't being careful with my feet.  Fortunately just a graze and a bit of bruising was all.  I joked with the fella behind me that it was good to get my fall out of the way now rather than after having run 25 miles!

A few miles later and another runner near me laughed at our pathetically careful descending skills down through the old mines and joked we'd never make fell racers.  I was being careful not to trash my quads on the descents early on after having learned the hard way at the Swaledale marathon in June.

 

This first section seemed to fly by and we were back at the scout hut in no time.  I topped up my bottle and smashed a 9Bar (I passed on the Jagermeister though) and was out on the long loop I was familiar with from my recce a few weeks earlier.  This time though, the bullocks which had chased me out of their field when I was here last weren't there.  The muddy trail was still frozen so good progress could be made, but I knew once thawed this was going to be hard work on the way home.

Soon we were running alongside the reservoir and then crossing over the river to Ramsgill, the trail heading uphill through farmland before a steep descent and then ascent to the pretty village of Middlesmoor after 18 miles and just under 3 hours.  It was here that it started to get tougher with a 2 mile steady climb over In Moor.  This was made much tougher by the broken up old road we were running on, I was on my own by this point with a group of three racers ahead of me, I matched their hike/run strategy along this section and tried to at least maintain the distance behind them.

At Scar House Reservoir

When it came, I was pleased to start the steep descent to Scar House reservoir and the second aid station to regroup.  That last section was deceivingly tough and the beautiful weather was being replaced with a cold wind and mist.  I quickly topped up the water bottles again and was just about to set off when the marshal stopped me in my tracks with an offer of hot Ribena which was too good to resist.  It was hot, strong, sweet and just the job.  Its amazing how little things can lift you when it's getting tough.

Then off again across the dam at Scar House reservoir in pursuit of the three ahead, climbing high onto the grouse moor with Nidderdale down below on the right and we were now heading home.  Frustratingly I was catching up with them on the hiking sections but would lose ground again when the running started again.  At one point I got within a couple of yards and I think that gave them a surprise when they saw how close I had got and this coincided with a flat section.  They trotted into the distance, I wasn't able to hold onto them and was alone again.
 

The next hour was about maintaining the momentum across the increasingly misty moor.  When there is still a long way to go and the legs are stiffening, it becomes a mental and physical battle.  It was an advantage having run this section before and good to know that most of the days climbing was now behind me.  Eventually I recognised the spot to turn right to make my painfully slow descent into the valley and my watch clicked over 30 miles in just under five hours.

I knew the course was likely to be longer than the advertised 30 miles from my recce but I hadn't anticipated quite how far there was still to run.  I admit to feeling a little sorry for myself for a moment as the realisation sunk in.  I guessed another four miles and perhaps another hour.  It made the next few miles mentally tough despite being so close to the end.  The trail had now defrosted back into the churned up mud and the light was starting to fade, it had certainly strayed into 'class B' fun at this stage (that special type of fun you don't realise you're having at the time...).  It is really hard to make yourself run when your legs and feet feel so trashed, but the alternative is worse, hours of walking to the finish.

Another runner caught and passed me, and then a lady appeared at my shoulder soon after.  I told her how strong she was looking and she said she was rushing to the finish because she was so thirsty! I had half of one of my bottles left which I shared and we chatted briefly before i urged her on for the last two miles.  She was much stronger than me despite having got lost along the way and ended up finishing second lady.

After five and a half hours I started to sense the finish line and I was about ready for it.  The bridge and scout hut came into view and it was all over.  Rachel and the guys had waited all this time and it was really good to see them there at the finish.  33.7 miles, 3,553 feet of ascent in 5hrs and 39 minutes, 12th male and 14th overall.  I was disappointed I lost those few places near the end but I really couldn't have given any more on the day.  The day had become really gloomy, it seemed so long since we set off under blue skies and I thought of the other runners still out there battling, some of whom would surely be finishing in the dark.  Well done to everyone who finished, a real test.

I have to say this was a great day out, thanks to Rob and his team for putting on the event in a beautiful part of the world and for the sarnies, cake and hot soup which really hit the spot at the end.  This is one race I'd love to have another crack at, highly recommended and at £20 entry, great value for money too.

Next up, the training begins for SDW100 next summer and preparations for the Hardmoors 55 in March 2015...