Well I didn't half blow that one!
There's nothing like that horrible feeling of grinding to a halt halfway up Loch Lomond.
Like a novice i stuck two fingers up to a mega miles training week only 2 weeks ago and stepped on the gas just before Balmaha, racing with Thomas the crazy German who was running a blinder. About 5 miles later I discovered the tank was empty. By the time i got to Rowardennan (27 miles) the gods of the quads had declared "let there be mush" and my quads were mush. I hastily made some foot repairs at the checkpoint, tried to revive myself with the contents of my drop bag and pushed on determined to work through the bad patch. I was glad to see the back of the very runnable first half of the race and felt sure that i could click into my rythmn on the rougher sections of Loch Lomondside but it wasn't to be. I was struggling to keep up with some of the supervets from the earlier start and by the time I reached Inversnaid (34 miles) i had decided to jog it in to Beinglas and call it a day. It wasn't a day for toughing it out, i've done plenty of that over the last few weeks, and i didn't want to risk pushing on to possible injury either.
In the back of my mind i think i knew this was going to happen and the reasons are pretty obvious, so no point in getting hung-up on it.
Apart from my DNF I really enjoyed the day, it was great to see so many friends and i even survived the pub with some dodgy weejies from Garscube and all their trophies followed by a night at the ceilidh with a subversive bloke!
Well done to everyone who ran it and thanks to Murdo and Ellen for making it possible and to those who marshalled and gave encouragement. On to the next one!
Monday, 26 April 2010
Friday, 23 April 2010
Run Like Fun
Victor and I are in the car park at Milngavie station (again). I've managed to convince him this is the ultimate training run. He's going to thank me for the rest of the year (maybe even the rest of his life) for the incredible fitness benefits this one is going to bring.
A quick comparison of the weight of our rucksacks reveals Victors is about double the weight of mine, i can't believe he's not cut the end off his toothbrush, is carrying enough toothpaste to clean his teeth for a month and has enough food for us both until a week on Tuesday. He realises his mistake and promptly decides to leave his toilet bag, smoking jacket, slippers and some food behind.
I've done this before, made all these mistakes with kit and have got it down to a T.
1x sawn off toothbrush
6x slithers of toothpaste
3x dods of shower gel
1x pair of socks
1x pair of running shorts
1x w/proof jacket
1x w/proof trousers
1x spare hat
vaseline
surgical tape
pen knife
cash/credit card
phone
1x copy of "The Lore of Running" for technical reference (had you there)
Enough food/drink to last to the next shop/pub
This is going to get us up the West Highland Way and back over 4 days, stopping at Tyndrum, Fort William, back to Tyndrum then to Milngavie.
Apart from the guy on the bottom bunk watching films on his laptop till late and Victor telling him to put it off or die, i had a good nights sleep (managing not to fall out of the top bunk, seriously its dangerous up there especially when you thrash about in your sleep like i do). We awoke to a torrential downpour of the stair-rod variety, had some porridge whilst listening to the walkers talking about changes of plan and how it was "life threatening to go out in that" and "its best to have a rest day" so got out and running before they started to convince us. As always it was ok once we got going but stopping wasn't an option because we got very cold very quickly, which also made us run a bit harder than we should have, so when we saw the Kingshouse hotel in the distance we had no hesitation in agreeing on a food stop for 20 minutes. 30+ minutes later we left puddles on the floor and wet seats in the posh bar as we went through the ritual 5 mins of pain, working the stiffness out of the legs and getting back into the long-distance running rythmn.
The rain carried on relentlessly as we ran down into Kinlochleven and up over the Lairigmor with the wind picking up quite ominously, that was the last thing we wanted for the journey back. By the time we got to Morrisons in the Fort we had taken on the homeless jakey look; soaking wet, unshaven, smelly and snottery as we squelched, stiff-legged around the aisles trying to work out if we craved pasta, potatoes or crisps or all three. 42 miles done.
I must admit as we ran into Fort William my legs were trashed, every step was pain and the thought of turning around and repeating those 2 days was really daunting. That's the start of the mind games. Your brain is telling you it's not sensible to keep going, all these tweaks and niggles are surely going to become tears and twangs, it's not sensible to continue without support in these conditions, in this condition. But it is. That's the whole point. You've got to go beyond, to show yourself its possible to push further than you think, in the words of the great metal songsmith and slayer of dragons Ronnie James Dio, "we're a ship without a storm..." and a storm is what we seek to toughen ourselves up for the mighty hurricane of the West Highland Way Race.
Sitting at breakfast in the b&b after an uncomfortable nights sleep tossing and turning with my knees, hips and quads waking me up throbbing in pain, Victor was glazing over as i told him (yet again) how we would emerge back in Milngavie as strong as the Mighty Thor. I think he had just had enough of running in the pishing rain and going down that bloody track again and anyway 95 miles in 2 days was good enough going without having to do it all again and listen to some nut talking about slaying dragons in his head...
So i made a major concession. Will it impact on me psychologically as i stare down the demons who have come to sabotage my dreams, to steal my spirit and send me a slavering, bonking wreck to the leisure centre to think again?? Maybe.
I had agreed to let Flora, our b and b owner give us a lift to the Braveheart car park to avoid running the 2 miles of pavement hell in Fort Bill. It was lashing with rain as we headed towards Lundavra, the path had now become a river and i was really starting to think this was a bit dodgy. If you'd tipped a bucket of water over my head i wouldn't have been any wetter and it was really cold too. We were glad to get into the Copie in Kinlochleven for a brief heat and some bits of food. As we sheltered amongst the shopping trolleys slurping down chocolate milk we came up with a brilliant idea for a race. Get this, The West Highland Way 100 (ish) start in Fort Bill, climb the Ben then down to Milngavie. About 19 000+ feet of ascent and imagine running those gnarly boulders on the loch-side with almost 70 miles in the legs then all that runnable stuff from Drymen to the finish to really challenge you, and of course the cheering crowds as you near the finish, Ultra Tour Du Milngavie(UTMG) anybody??
Renewed with the mystical powers of flavoured milk we galloped up the climb from Kinlochleven and back down to Kingshouse, wading rivers which hadn't existed on the way up and deciding to keep running all the way to Tyndrum in case we stopped and lost the will to start again. Rannoch Moor was murder and i was bonking by Inveroran so grabbed a can of Coke at the hotel which saw me through to Tyndrum. We were a sorry state when we reached the bunkhouse, so much so that when we arrived the nice couple from the other night made us tea and biscuits and told us stories about boy scout walkers wading through water up to their waists on the lochside the flooding was so bad. It was at this point that Victor decided he'd had enough, he was going to run the 5 miles down to Crianlarich then get the bus or train from there. I tried to convince him that he'd be ok once he got going but i knew it was his decision and wouldnt be a good idea to twist his arm into doing something that might end in injury or something. 42 miles done.
I was up at 5.30am and wide awake eating scones and jam and trying to remove an ingrown toenail with my penknife having had another uncomfortable nights tossing and turning. Victor woke up in a completely different frame of mind not quite ready for his day of leisure yet, as i contemplated staring the demons and dragons in the eye. I had to kick his butt out the door by 6.30am because i knew i had a good 12+ hours in front of me and after what was now 10 minutes or so of coaxing the stiffness out of the legs we ran well through Auchtertyre Farm, over the roller coaster and Victor down to the road in Crianlarich as i carried on to Beinglas. I stopped to buy some biscuits and a coffee then it was head down and onto the lochside. That jumble of rocks was made even more challenging because it had all become so slippery and my legs seemed to be lagging a few seconds behind my brain but absorbing as it was it took my mind off things until i emerged at Inversnaid in the sunshine, feeling like Robinson Crusoe washed up on a desert island after floating about in the ocean for a week. I didn't want to frighten the tourists so kept going passing more walkers now as the nicer weather brought them back out. Soon i was at Rowardennen again and had been craving Coke and a scone and as i waited at the bar i felt a tap on my shoulder, it was a walker i had met a few days previously "you made it back!" he said and we chatted a bit then i sat in the sun, drank my Coke and resolved to not stop until The Beech Tree 20 miles further on and give myself 15 minutes to refuel then on to Milngavie, always good to have a plan!
I was nicely into my stride as i rounded a corner and came face to face with Peter, one of my clubmates on a training run to Beinglas. It was good to chat and it gave me a big lift to see a familiar face. I pushed on through heavy showers of rain then warm sunshine, through Balmaha, over Conic Hill and past Drymen fighting demons all the way to the Beech Tree. 15 minutes was the deal and i was off again along those torturous cycle paths thinking about William Sichel and his 1000 mile run and how this was childs play in comparison, only 190 miles in 4 days, i should be fresh as a daisy! I wasn't though as i trundled into Milngavie, dragons slayed and demons drowned in chocolate milk.
I couldn't resist rounding the weeks mileage up to 200 by jogging round the Edinburgh Parkrun 5k a few days later and now just over 2 weeks later i'm wondering how this is going to effect my run at this weekends Highland Fling?? Only one way to find out...
A quick comparison of the weight of our rucksacks reveals Victors is about double the weight of mine, i can't believe he's not cut the end off his toothbrush, is carrying enough toothpaste to clean his teeth for a month and has enough food for us both until a week on Tuesday. He realises his mistake and promptly decides to leave his toilet bag, smoking jacket, slippers and some food behind.
I've done this before, made all these mistakes with kit and have got it down to a T.
1x sawn off toothbrush
6x slithers of toothpaste
3x dods of shower gel
1x pair of socks
1x pair of running shorts
1x w/proof jacket
1x w/proof trousers
1x spare hat
vaseline
surgical tape
pen knife
cash/credit card
phone
1x copy of "The Lore of Running" for technical reference (had you there)
Enough food/drink to last to the next shop/pub
This is going to get us up the West Highland Way and back over 4 days, stopping at Tyndrum, Fort William, back to Tyndrum then to Milngavie.
It poured with rain all the way to Drymen and as we discussed how we could tell by the cloud formations, wind direction and using our highly tuned sense of nature and the outdoors that the rain was on for the day it cleared up and the sun came out. Magic! Victor even took his shirt off to try and scare off the hoards of walkers out for the Easter break. It didn't work though. We had such fun tippy-toeing along behind them, shouting "good morning" and watching them almost crumple in fright under the weight of all that kit they were lugging to Conic Hill base camp ready for the final ascent. Some of them were even doing it without oxygen.
We made our first pit stop at Rowardennen, it was much warmer weather than we were used to so we quickly chugged a Coke and inhaled a scone and set off up the loch. The recent snow had also made the paths as wet and muddy as i'd ever seen them which made the going underfoot a bit harder, but the sun was warm, the sky blue and it was a pleasure to be out there. When i was up, Victor was down and vice versa so between us we managed a nice steady pace up to Tyndrum and into the Real Food cafe for fish cake suppers. By this time it had become quite overcast and was a good bit cooler so we shivered as we ate quickly then after a quick shop at the garage for breakfast we reached the By The Way hostel. What a welcome we got there too! The couple who were managing it were quite taken with our adventure and we chatted for a while then shower, more food and bed. 53 miles done.
Apart from the guy on the bottom bunk watching films on his laptop till late and Victor telling him to put it off or die, i had a good nights sleep (managing not to fall out of the top bunk, seriously its dangerous up there especially when you thrash about in your sleep like i do). We awoke to a torrential downpour of the stair-rod variety, had some porridge whilst listening to the walkers talking about changes of plan and how it was "life threatening to go out in that" and "its best to have a rest day" so got out and running before they started to convince us. As always it was ok once we got going but stopping wasn't an option because we got very cold very quickly, which also made us run a bit harder than we should have, so when we saw the Kingshouse hotel in the distance we had no hesitation in agreeing on a food stop for 20 minutes. 30+ minutes later we left puddles on the floor and wet seats in the posh bar as we went through the ritual 5 mins of pain, working the stiffness out of the legs and getting back into the long-distance running rythmn.
The rain carried on relentlessly as we ran down into Kinlochleven and up over the Lairigmor with the wind picking up quite ominously, that was the last thing we wanted for the journey back. By the time we got to Morrisons in the Fort we had taken on the homeless jakey look; soaking wet, unshaven, smelly and snottery as we squelched, stiff-legged around the aisles trying to work out if we craved pasta, potatoes or crisps or all three. 42 miles done.
I must admit as we ran into Fort William my legs were trashed, every step was pain and the thought of turning around and repeating those 2 days was really daunting. That's the start of the mind games. Your brain is telling you it's not sensible to keep going, all these tweaks and niggles are surely going to become tears and twangs, it's not sensible to continue without support in these conditions, in this condition. But it is. That's the whole point. You've got to go beyond, to show yourself its possible to push further than you think, in the words of the great metal songsmith and slayer of dragons Ronnie James Dio, "we're a ship without a storm..." and a storm is what we seek to toughen ourselves up for the mighty hurricane of the West Highland Way Race.
Sitting at breakfast in the b&b after an uncomfortable nights sleep tossing and turning with my knees, hips and quads waking me up throbbing in pain, Victor was glazing over as i told him (yet again) how we would emerge back in Milngavie as strong as the Mighty Thor. I think he had just had enough of running in the pishing rain and going down that bloody track again and anyway 95 miles in 2 days was good enough going without having to do it all again and listen to some nut talking about slaying dragons in his head...
So i made a major concession. Will it impact on me psychologically as i stare down the demons who have come to sabotage my dreams, to steal my spirit and send me a slavering, bonking wreck to the leisure centre to think again?? Maybe.
I had agreed to let Flora, our b and b owner give us a lift to the Braveheart car park to avoid running the 2 miles of pavement hell in Fort Bill. It was lashing with rain as we headed towards Lundavra, the path had now become a river and i was really starting to think this was a bit dodgy. If you'd tipped a bucket of water over my head i wouldn't have been any wetter and it was really cold too. We were glad to get into the Copie in Kinlochleven for a brief heat and some bits of food. As we sheltered amongst the shopping trolleys slurping down chocolate milk we came up with a brilliant idea for a race. Get this, The West Highland Way 100 (ish) start in Fort Bill, climb the Ben then down to Milngavie. About 19 000+ feet of ascent and imagine running those gnarly boulders on the loch-side with almost 70 miles in the legs then all that runnable stuff from Drymen to the finish to really challenge you, and of course the cheering crowds as you near the finish, Ultra Tour Du Milngavie(UTMG) anybody??
Renewed with the mystical powers of flavoured milk we galloped up the climb from Kinlochleven and back down to Kingshouse, wading rivers which hadn't existed on the way up and deciding to keep running all the way to Tyndrum in case we stopped and lost the will to start again. Rannoch Moor was murder and i was bonking by Inveroran so grabbed a can of Coke at the hotel which saw me through to Tyndrum. We were a sorry state when we reached the bunkhouse, so much so that when we arrived the nice couple from the other night made us tea and biscuits and told us stories about boy scout walkers wading through water up to their waists on the lochside the flooding was so bad. It was at this point that Victor decided he'd had enough, he was going to run the 5 miles down to Crianlarich then get the bus or train from there. I tried to convince him that he'd be ok once he got going but i knew it was his decision and wouldnt be a good idea to twist his arm into doing something that might end in injury or something. 42 miles done.
I was up at 5.30am and wide awake eating scones and jam and trying to remove an ingrown toenail with my penknife having had another uncomfortable nights tossing and turning. Victor woke up in a completely different frame of mind not quite ready for his day of leisure yet, as i contemplated staring the demons and dragons in the eye. I had to kick his butt out the door by 6.30am because i knew i had a good 12+ hours in front of me and after what was now 10 minutes or so of coaxing the stiffness out of the legs we ran well through Auchtertyre Farm, over the roller coaster and Victor down to the road in Crianlarich as i carried on to Beinglas. I stopped to buy some biscuits and a coffee then it was head down and onto the lochside. That jumble of rocks was made even more challenging because it had all become so slippery and my legs seemed to be lagging a few seconds behind my brain but absorbing as it was it took my mind off things until i emerged at Inversnaid in the sunshine, feeling like Robinson Crusoe washed up on a desert island after floating about in the ocean for a week. I didn't want to frighten the tourists so kept going passing more walkers now as the nicer weather brought them back out. Soon i was at Rowardennen again and had been craving Coke and a scone and as i waited at the bar i felt a tap on my shoulder, it was a walker i had met a few days previously "you made it back!" he said and we chatted a bit then i sat in the sun, drank my Coke and resolved to not stop until The Beech Tree 20 miles further on and give myself 15 minutes to refuel then on to Milngavie, always good to have a plan!
I was nicely into my stride as i rounded a corner and came face to face with Peter, one of my clubmates on a training run to Beinglas. It was good to chat and it gave me a big lift to see a familiar face. I pushed on through heavy showers of rain then warm sunshine, through Balmaha, over Conic Hill and past Drymen fighting demons all the way to the Beech Tree. 15 minutes was the deal and i was off again along those torturous cycle paths thinking about William Sichel and his 1000 mile run and how this was childs play in comparison, only 190 miles in 4 days, i should be fresh as a daisy! I wasn't though as i trundled into Milngavie, dragons slayed and demons drowned in chocolate milk.
I couldn't resist rounding the weeks mileage up to 200 by jogging round the Edinburgh Parkrun 5k a few days later and now just over 2 weeks later i'm wondering how this is going to effect my run at this weekends Highland Fling?? Only one way to find out...
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
How Late It Was, How Late - The Hardmoors 55
I thought I'd better post this before the Fling and all the other races are on top of me! It's a bit of a hasty report that I posted on the club forum after the race but it does the job. I was meaning to add a bit more detail to it but ended up running loads of miles instead...
This was the first running of the Hardmoors 55 race, a counter in the Runfurther UK Ultra series. A late change to the course to avoid a few extra road crossings meant it was only 54 miles, but a tough and eventful 54 miles it turned out to be.
The route follows the first half of The 110 mile Cleveland Way in the North Yorks National Park from Helmsley to Guisborough and has about 9000 feet of ascent thrown in.
Not really knowing the route at all, I decided to stick with a local runner who set off like a rocket at a much faster pace than I felt comfortable with. This tactic seemed to be working out ok until the first main checkpoint at 22 miles when I lost sight of him and took a wrong turning, losing about 10 mins before getting back on track again. By 25 miles I was starting to really feel the effects of the faster pace and also running on the exposed moors in strong winds and driving rain was taking its toll.
I decided to ease off the pace and take it nice and steady to the next checkpoint at 42 miles then get some food in me and hammer the pace to the finish. By the time I reached the village hall at Kildale (42 miles) I needed food quickly and devoured my Tuc biscuits and coke, grabbed some fruit pastilles and headed back out determined to make up some lost places.
I ran hard up to Captain Cooks monument seeing no-one then headed for the steep climb up Roseberry Topping which was a spur off the main route so I might see some of the runners ahead of me as the route returns back on itself. Sure enough when I got to the turn the leader came through the gate closely followed by the 2nd placed runner and as I approached the top of the hill 3rd place came running down towards me. I was only a few minutes behind him and when I got back to the gate checked my watch to see I was about 18 minutes behind the first two. Time to blast to the finish I thought!
After a mile or so I caught the 3rd placed runner but he wasn't keen on giving up his place easily so we battled through the slippy, muddy track for a few minutes before I managed to lose him on the winding forest trail down to Guisborough. After what seemed an age I reached the disused railway which meant I was a mile from the finish and after glancing over my shoulder too many times to see if I was being caught I arrived at the rugby club finish and crashed through the door. Hang on! No signs of a race finish here, just guys in blazers looking at me a bit strangely! I went back outside and caught sight of a course marker further down the path so I ran towards it then saw the flags marking the finish at the CRICKET club! Ahhh yes! Well I managed to finish in 3rd place in 9 hours 11 mins so was delighted with that.
The stormy weather meant only 41 of about 75 starters finished the race, a thoroughly enjoyable route and it's got me thinking about the full 110 mile race next year...!!
This was the first running of the Hardmoors 55 race, a counter in the Runfurther UK Ultra series. A late change to the course to avoid a few extra road crossings meant it was only 54 miles, but a tough and eventful 54 miles it turned out to be.
The route follows the first half of The 110 mile Cleveland Way in the North Yorks National Park from Helmsley to Guisborough and has about 9000 feet of ascent thrown in.
Not really knowing the route at all, I decided to stick with a local runner who set off like a rocket at a much faster pace than I felt comfortable with. This tactic seemed to be working out ok until the first main checkpoint at 22 miles when I lost sight of him and took a wrong turning, losing about 10 mins before getting back on track again. By 25 miles I was starting to really feel the effects of the faster pace and also running on the exposed moors in strong winds and driving rain was taking its toll.
I decided to ease off the pace and take it nice and steady to the next checkpoint at 42 miles then get some food in me and hammer the pace to the finish. By the time I reached the village hall at Kildale (42 miles) I needed food quickly and devoured my Tuc biscuits and coke, grabbed some fruit pastilles and headed back out determined to make up some lost places.
I ran hard up to Captain Cooks monument seeing no-one then headed for the steep climb up Roseberry Topping which was a spur off the main route so I might see some of the runners ahead of me as the route returns back on itself. Sure enough when I got to the turn the leader came through the gate closely followed by the 2nd placed runner and as I approached the top of the hill 3rd place came running down towards me. I was only a few minutes behind him and when I got back to the gate checked my watch to see I was about 18 minutes behind the first two. Time to blast to the finish I thought!
After a mile or so I caught the 3rd placed runner but he wasn't keen on giving up his place easily so we battled through the slippy, muddy track for a few minutes before I managed to lose him on the winding forest trail down to Guisborough. After what seemed an age I reached the disused railway which meant I was a mile from the finish and after glancing over my shoulder too many times to see if I was being caught I arrived at the rugby club finish and crashed through the door. Hang on! No signs of a race finish here, just guys in blazers looking at me a bit strangely! I went back outside and caught sight of a course marker further down the path so I ran towards it then saw the flags marking the finish at the CRICKET club! Ahhh yes! Well I managed to finish in 3rd place in 9 hours 11 mins so was delighted with that.
The stormy weather meant only 41 of about 75 starters finished the race, a thoroughly enjoyable route and it's got me thinking about the full 110 mile race next year...!!
Monday, 15 March 2010
The View From Benarty
Yesterday at about 6pm I stood on Benarty Hill, a hand on the stone pillar at the summit. Looking north I could see Bishops Hill and the Lomonds, in the distance the snowy southern-most Cairngorms, west the Ochils and south across the Forth to the Pentlands. It was a pity it wasn't clear enough to see Ben Lomond above the West Highland Way because it would have been all of my most recent playgrounds, all there to see, in the setting early spring sun.
The first big adventure weekend was mid-January when the temperatures were dropping to around -15 and nearly everywhere had a good covering of snow. I thought it would be a great idea to run a two day-er from Milngavie up to Doune Bothy, stay the night and run back next day. And brilliant it was! Luckily Lucy believed my stories about how it would be great fun and agreed to go with me (they were all true of course) and we ran, slipped, skidded and enjoyed some of the most spectacular views you could get on the run. An early start back down the trail again the next morning after a great night blowing on the 'fire' and a faint memory of a too hot Pot Noodle in my rumbling belly. It was a tough weekends running when my nail-shoes ceased to be effective after about 20 miles of the 75 which made it much more interesting chasing Lucy with her new fangled "snow-grip-grab do-da's" on her shoes (too much like performance enhancers for a purist like me...).
As nice as it is to go further afield and run it's also quite satisfying to run from the door. It's almost like getting something for free in a way. So, I worked out a route from deepest, darkest Ballingry which had only just emerged from the receding ice sheet, over the Lomonds to Falkland then back again in a big scenic circle. I Memory Mapped it (guaranteed it was going to be wrong then...!) and set off for what was to be about 30 miles and 6500' of up-ness. After a big circuit of the mountains of Fife and Perthshire I arrived on top of Bishops Hill, checked my gps and realised I had underestimated my distance slightly, which was confirmed when my wee jelly legs eventually shuffled back home having consumed a good 34 miles. Not a disaster but also not good when you've scheduled a 30 miler the next day with two speedsters who go by the nick-names of Sonic and the Crazy German!
So, about 16 hours later I'm standing in Drymen with Sonic and CG and we're off running up the West Highland Way to Beinglas farm. There was some sort of very precise heart rate monitor training going on which I couldn't understand. My heart rate monitor is my nose which starts to run and blow bubbles when everything is going swimmingly, then my stomach which starts to push its contents towards my throat when I reach threshold pace and my legs which go all rubbery when I reach anoraknerobic pace. We all happily trotted up the way, me blowing bubbles and the boys beep-beeping until the Crazy German decide he had had it with the hrm and hit the gas. Us being the non-competitive types that we are took that as game-on and started elbowing each other out of the way because no-one wanted the disgrace of being the hairy kipper at Beinglas.
A much easier week followed and was rounded off with the Forfar multi-terrain half marathon. I really enjoyed this race last year and remembered all the talk about the man-eating bog at mile 8 which turned out to be very tame, so I took it with a big pinch of salt when this was what all the talk was about again at the start. Sure enough at mile 8ish we headed under a bridge and through a big puddle... all that fuss, eh!... then as I rounded the corner I began to understand as I waded up to my thighs in the most freeeezing water for about 400 metres. In fact my feet took about another mile before I could get any feeling back into them, yes this is my kind of half marathon, not one for pb's though. Once back at the finish I took my customery 10 minute dip in Forfar Loch to cool my quads, still burning from their re-entry into Forfar from the tattie fields of outer space (it's where they grow the spuds for Smash, it is!... fact).
After a week of slightly bigger mileage it was time for some fun at the Carnethy 5. There was a good turn-out of Carnegies to tackle the 6 mile 2400' ish course and I set out at jelly leg pace to try to reach the bottle neck at the gate before it got too choked up. I kept up a pretty good pace the whole race considering and finished up strong enough with a sprint through the bog trying (and failing) to hold off Bruce Smith from Carnethy. I was pleased with 59 mins odd though, still under the hour! The hill races seem to fit in really well with training for ultras, almost like tempo sessions. I seem to be able to run long the next day without much problem which is just as well...
The next morning, after about 6 different changes in route going from one end of the country to the other because of the amount of snow, I met with Lucy and Victor ( the holder of the Dava Way race record (he's never claimed it but i'm giving him it because its a laugh) and, ok, it's only been run once but a records a record...) who will now be known as Dava Man, a new super-hero from the Grampians. So, Lucy, Dava Man and I set off from Glenmore Lodge to run to Forres mostly on the Speyside and Dava Ways, about 40 miles each day. I really felt Carnethy in my legs and was glad of all the snow on the ground forcing the other two speedsters to run at my slow pace. At one point we had to do a bit of cross country and climb a banking onto a nearby road because the trail became impassable with deep snow and fallen trees but we soon picked it up again and all agreed it was a really cracking, scenic run. Just as well because we were doing it in reverse the next day!
That 80 mile weekend was enough to give me a 130 mile week, my biggest mileage for a while and I felt stong doing some decent days after that of 10, 17, 12 and 15 miles but then picked up a cold which floored me for the whole of the next week. At the same time, without doing any running, I seemed to pick up a niggle in my back which worsened over a day or two to the point where I was struggling to sit, stand or walk without excruciating pain. My cold went but the back pain didn't so I decided after 6 days of no running to go out and try and do a few miles. I ground out a painful 6 miles and as it hadn't got any better or worse the next day I just kept running. The pain and stiffness hung around for about a week or so, easing with some treatment from Tommy, and I still managed to edge over 100 miles for the week finishing up with the short, sharp Bishops Hill race (3miles 1500' ish). I had a good climb but as soon as I started on the descent my back just jammed up so, with the 7 mile run home over Benarty still to come, I just jogged down to the finish enjoying the run all the same.
Tommys back-magic treatments seem to have done the trick and I managed a good, solid 85 miles last week with a spectacular run/wade through deep snow in the winter wonderland that is the Ochils at the moment. I was a bit caught out by the knee deep snow but it was a good strength session in the end and the scenery was mind-blowing!
And so, yesterday at the top of Benarty with another 20 miler under my belt I stood enjoying the view and thinking about next week and my first ultra of the year at the Hardmoors 55 (if I get the entry form in on time, oops). With a body full of niggling muscles and a head full of nagging doubts, the customery week-before-the-race feeling, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Saturday, 16 January 2010
How To Do Stuff: Part II
Next in the How To Do Stuff series, how to turn an ultra-marathon into a pop video...
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Hard As Nails
Welcome to the new Sunday Adventure Club "How To Do Stuff" feature!
Now that the great chocolate orange festival is over and as we gear up for the great chocolate egg festival I thought I'd share with you some ideas on how to do stuff. This tip is going to get you out running again in the big freezer, before you know it you'll be back out pounding the pavement, 6 minute mile-ing past old biddies clinging on to railings who will stare in wonder as they make another epic journey to the shops for Pandrops.
You could go out and buy some running "crampons" some of which have been reviewed by Pete here but they'll set you back a few quid. The inspiration for this came from this Screw Shoe blog. Problem was when I went to B&Q (other hardware stores that provide a bag to get your bits home are also available...) I couldn't find sheet metal screws or anyone who had heard of them. So, I came home, tried a few alternatives and found that this worked best.
You will need : 1 x hammer, a couple of dozen carpet tacks approx 18mm long, 1 x old pair of running shoes (pref. without "air" soles as this could cause problems!)
Pick up shoe and turn it upside down, then hold hammer in a manly fashion and hammer the nails in at an angle until only the nail head, at an angle, is sticking out. It's best to vary the angle so you grip in different directions, so nail some aiming towards the front of the shoe and some towards the back.
Step 2:
Make sure none of the nails are going through into the shoe as this might slow you down a bit. If they are then pull them out and hammer back in at more of an angle.
Step 3:
Find some ice and have a speed session!
I ran in mine for an hour and a half last night and did wonder about being able to feel them through the bottom of the shoe but had no problem. I stuck like glue to the hard packed snow and ice and even considered running over frozen-up Loch Ore last night for the ultimate test... best not try that.
There you go then, get out and get sprinting!
Next up in the series of "How To Do Stuff"... How to make your own grit when you've spent all your money on council tax... How to make a snowplough out of the empty grit box at the end of your street...How to make gas... Stay tuned...
Now that the great chocolate orange festival is over and as we gear up for the great chocolate egg festival I thought I'd share with you some ideas on how to do stuff. This tip is going to get you out running again in the big freezer, before you know it you'll be back out pounding the pavement, 6 minute mile-ing past old biddies clinging on to railings who will stare in wonder as they make another epic journey to the shops for Pandrops.
You could go out and buy some running "crampons" some of which have been reviewed by Pete here but they'll set you back a few quid. The inspiration for this came from this Screw Shoe blog. Problem was when I went to B&Q (other hardware stores that provide a bag to get your bits home are also available...) I couldn't find sheet metal screws or anyone who had heard of them. So, I came home, tried a few alternatives and found that this worked best.
You will need : 1 x hammer, a couple of dozen carpet tacks approx 18mm long, 1 x old pair of running shoes (pref. without "air" soles as this could cause problems!)
A(t) tack
Step 1:Pick up shoe and turn it upside down, then hold hammer in a manly fashion and hammer the nails in at an angle until only the nail head, at an angle, is sticking out. It's best to vary the angle so you grip in different directions, so nail some aiming towards the front of the shoe and some towards the back.
Step 2:
Make sure none of the nails are going through into the shoe as this might slow you down a bit. If they are then pull them out and hammer back in at more of an angle.
Find some ice and have a speed session!
I ran in mine for an hour and a half last night and did wonder about being able to feel them through the bottom of the shoe but had no problem. I stuck like glue to the hard packed snow and ice and even considered running over frozen-up Loch Ore last night for the ultimate test... best not try that.
There you go then, get out and get sprinting!
Next up in the series of "How To Do Stuff"... How to make your own grit when you've spent all your money on council tax... How to make a snowplough out of the empty grit box at the end of your street...How to make gas... Stay tuned...
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Backwards and Forwards
2009. It's been and gone. Another year down, lots of things done well, not so well and not at all. But if we did all the stuff then there'd be nothing left for 2010, so lets not get all in a rush.
Most of the adventures of 2009 are in this blog so if you feel inclined take a look back through the archives and you can see all the details. In short, I ran and ran and ran then I stopped ate biscuits, mashed tatties and washed it all down with flat Coke then ran more. Sometimes, shortly afterwards, I'd throw it all up again but mostly I didn't. Which was nice.
My favourite times were all had on the West Highland Way, in training and in racing. The chippy run in April was special, running from Milngavie to Fort William and back in four days (missing out a teenie bit, so unfinished business...) eating all sorts of high carb junk food, er sorry local delicacies on the way. Then the race itself, well I don't need to say anymore, simply my finest 16 and a half hours of running and events afterwards make the memories even more special.
Nothing else really mattered after June. I lost a bit of hunger after that but thats just natural, and I struggled a bit with recovery but I've learnt a lot from that. A lot of people have asked me how I did that WHW, to be honest there wasn't any one thing, more a combination of things, for me it's lots of racing and lots of training miles, I don't believe there's any other way to run long races than to put in the miles in training. That's just me though, and therein lies the key, I found what works for me. It is more complicated than that, I do realise, but that's what keeps this sport alive for me, the constant quest for answers, pushing the mind and body harder in training to try and run down the answers to the next big race.
I've two main races planned: West Highland Way and UTMB. I'll be doing loads more though but they'll be part of the training for the biggies, a few ultras slotted in and some hill races too. Everything is going to be off road too, since I've scrapped the plan to do the Athens 24 hour, my heart just wasn't in it. I'll be doing a big challenge run possibly February/March all going to plan but I've not sorted much in the way of detail yet so I'm not telling, apart from it's a long 'un!
So, the plans are laid, I've been doing lots of running over the Christmas period, mostly in the ever-deepening snow which resulted in me coming home and eating a whole orange in a oner one night (er, yes, a chocolate one...). It's been great training, making a 12 mile run a complete epic of staggering through knee high snow drifts which is brilliant fun and a fantastic work out. I just need to start building the miles up now and getting a few races under my belt.
Thanks for all your support in 2009 and Happy New Year!
Most of the adventures of 2009 are in this blog so if you feel inclined take a look back through the archives and you can see all the details. In short, I ran and ran and ran then I stopped ate biscuits, mashed tatties and washed it all down with flat Coke then ran more. Sometimes, shortly afterwards, I'd throw it all up again but mostly I didn't. Which was nice.
My favourite times were all had on the West Highland Way, in training and in racing. The chippy run in April was special, running from Milngavie to Fort William and back in four days (missing out a teenie bit, so unfinished business...) eating all sorts of high carb junk food, er sorry local delicacies on the way. Then the race itself, well I don't need to say anymore, simply my finest 16 and a half hours of running and events afterwards make the memories even more special.
Nothing else really mattered after June. I lost a bit of hunger after that but thats just natural, and I struggled a bit with recovery but I've learnt a lot from that. A lot of people have asked me how I did that WHW, to be honest there wasn't any one thing, more a combination of things, for me it's lots of racing and lots of training miles, I don't believe there's any other way to run long races than to put in the miles in training. That's just me though, and therein lies the key, I found what works for me. It is more complicated than that, I do realise, but that's what keeps this sport alive for me, the constant quest for answers, pushing the mind and body harder in training to try and run down the answers to the next big race.
2010. What's it going to hold for me?
So, the plans are laid, I've been doing lots of running over the Christmas period, mostly in the ever-deepening snow which resulted in me coming home and eating a whole orange in a oner one night (er, yes, a chocolate one...). It's been great training, making a 12 mile run a complete epic of staggering through knee high snow drifts which is brilliant fun and a fantastic work out. I just need to start building the miles up now and getting a few races under my belt.
Thanks for all your support in 2009 and Happy New Year!
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