Thursday, 30 July 2015
L100 2015 - The road to DNF - Part 1. Did I train enough?
I never intended to do the L100, having run the L50 a couple of times and marshaled at various places on the 100 route I was fairly sure I was way too wimpy to make it round, but a set of random circumstances - my 2015 new years resolution of - turn down no opportunity and friend Liz deciding she wanted a bash for her 40th meant that in September 2014 freshly back from a tough OCC race I was in!
Training had got off to a terrible start, I DNF'd Lakes in a Day 50 miler after getting lost in the clag on Blencathra and giving myself a fright, I then came down with an awful chest infection leaving me on a steroid inhaler for 6 weeks where walking the kids to school never mind running was challenge enough.
In November I struggled round Silverdale Circuit 23 miler in a worrying 5.5 hours but was at least mobile again, with my fitness on the floor I decided to focus on getting my confidence back in the run up to Christmas at managed to bring my 10k time down to an almost respectable 51 minutes.
Races/ Memorable Training Runs - February to July
February - Grizedale 26
Early in February I developed shin splints, it was another inauspicious sign on my journey, I visited a sports therapist and was given some strengthening exercises (which I did sporadically) and the day prior to Grizedale I marshaled at the night runner finding that I could hardly bear any weight on my left leg. The following morning with the help of half a role of K-tape (I should have shares in the stuff) I trotted off on to the course. The weather was amazing, cold and crispy I had recced the course a couple of weeks earlier in a few inches of snow so it was brilliant to be able to move faster. My shin oddly was fine through the whole event and finished in 6:03 feeling like I could have carried on for hours. I put the strange injury to the back of my mind and carried on training.
February - Week away in the alps skiing with daily 5km uphill runs
We headed off skiing during half term, which brought with it an opportunity to do some hill runs, we stay almost exactly 5km downhill from the lift station so I challenged my self to be able to run the whole way by the end of the week - and to smash my 5km PB (albeit by cheating and running down the hill). My sore shin was a forgotten memory and flying down the mountain road after a days skiing was brilliant, both goals smashed - if I ever tell you I have a 21 minute 5k time i'm not exactly lying but certainly bending reality.
March - Hawswater Half Marathon
I'm not really much of a half-marathoner my times stick resolutely to the 1:56 - 2:02 almost whatever the course profile. Hawswater is pretty and fairly hilly for a road race. It was the 2nd March, and officially spring in my mind - sadly no one told the weather so running in the snow and hail made for a challenging time keeping warm. Usual time 1:59, but for the first time in a while nothing was niggling!
March - Trimpell 20
One of the worst races in my training, its finally stopped snowing and the sun is out making it baking hot. This is a flat 20 miles on road - my worst nightmare. After getting a decent start I just grind to a stop at 9 miles and from then on its a battle ground between my head and my body. Things are slightly improved when I find an ancient baby bell in my shorts pocket and eat that - you can take the girl out of ultras ...
I limp over the line in a disappointing 3:30 and drive home feeling miserably that if I can't run a flat road 20 I'm screwed on a 105 mile mountain trail race. My husband points out that the two are hardly comparable.
March - L100 course recce Braithwaite - Blencathra with Liz
Its great to be back out on the course I ran from Braithwaite - Dockray on Boxing day and I love the section round Glendaterra. The Buttermere section is new to me. We arrive in Buttermere in hammering rain ... winter is back! we head out through the woods and on to Sail Pass, I fall totally in love with this section of the course - this is a very helpful state of mind on the race - its freezing, blowing a gale but its stunning, topped off with a brilliant run in to Braithwaite.
April - Lakes Mountain 42 with Liz
This was a highlight,a circular route from Askham taking in High-Street, Helvellyn and Place Fell this was a great point to test kit and see how we were coming along with our training.
May - Keswick to Barrow 40 miler
The K2B is a annual fixture on the Lakes Charity event list - 40 miles of road raising around £300k a year for local charities. Mainly its a walking event with the average time at around 11 - 12 hours, what people don't always know is that each year around 100 people enter the K2B race this would be my 6th K2B and my second in the race having run 7:22 in 2014. This year I had pulled together a team of runners with the aim of winning the ladies team challenge (time worked out on the final runners time) and hopefully in the process setting a new ladies team course record.
I agreed to be team sweeper and if I could keep up with them, stay with the last runner. This meant on the day I got to run with the lovely Clare Shannon - I learnt a couple of slightly worrying things (a) I find it hard to re-adjust my plans (b) I don't find it easy to motivate someone else to run to a schedule! Clare and I came pretty close to a major fallout, saved by support crew extraordinaire Gaynor. I let my time plan go, and focused on enjoying things and both the running and enjoyment for both of us improved significantly. I'm learning that I am a team player, but i'm a solo runner.
Crossing the line with Clare was brilliant and despite the stress we managed to be first ladies team, set a new course record and the icing on the cake was team member Charlotte had not only won the individual ladies prize but also set a new record.
May - Maxi-ultra Annecy (DNF due to calf injury)
John and I were due to fly out to Annecy in late May as I had managed to get a place in the Tour Du Lac Annecy 89km ultra. The Saturday before I decided to have one last run in Langdale and around a mile from the campsite coming down off Side Pike my calf gave way, leading to a limp back to the van and the rest of the weekend spent alternating between standing in an ice cold river and sobbing.
A desperate call to the sports therapist gave me a booking for the Tuesday and we decided that no matter what we would still fly out on Thursday partly for a child free break but also Annecy was acting as the World Champs this year so even if out of racing I could cheer on Team GB.
I decided on Friday to register, I asked if I could change my entry to the Marathon distance but was unsurprisingly told no so I picked up my race bib and decided to start and see how things went.
The race starts with a 3km run through Annecy, the pain was instant but I told myself that once I started with climbs and could slow the pace it would improve?! I reached the first CP after 1400m ascent dead on my split time and although still in pain things were not getting worse. I grabbed some soup and coke and headed downhill. This was where my problems really started I couldn't descend with any confidence and competitors were just streaming past. I made the decision to keep going until Doussard around 48km and 3000m ascent and with my hoppety run I made it there in just over 9.5 hours.
I had been banking on this race as a confidence boost for the L100 and afterwards for the first time wondered about withdrawing from the 100 as I felt my training really wasn't going well enough.
June - Ultimate Trails 55k - PB over the distance.
I came back from Annecy and finally called a physio, it was clear that there wasn't a tear in my calf as I had managed to run 48km without making anything worse and oddly the day after the race there was a significant improvement. I'd had some myofascial release a couple of years ago and felt that this might help unlock my calf and enable me to run again. I had 4 weeks until the UT 55 and if I couldn't run that I would withdraw from the L100 - it also had occurred to me that I had had niggles since January in my left leg - starting with the shin, for a while my ankle and now my calf. These injuries were at their peak leading up to a race and then often dissipated during or after the event. Physio confirmed that I has an injury somewhere in my leg (probably in my ankle) but that anxiety was making things seem much worse and probably causing my leg to lock before Annecy. Waiting on the start line for UT my calf looked like there were creatures living in there as the muscle flexed and twinged! Still once I had got the first climb under my belt and my calf had relaxed I had the best day running. The day should have been everything I hate ... hot, sunny, they ran out of coke ... but the hills just kept on rolling under my feet and the only bad patch was for a few minutes as I slopped about in a bog at Blea Tarn finishing the 59km 1763m A+ in 9:18 and in the top third of finishers. I then sat on the finish line wrapped in a blanket until 12:30am riding on the adrenaline cheering other runners home.
July - 2 Recce days on the first 26 miles of the L100 route with Liz
The Thursday after UT Liz and I had arranged two days of reccing on the L100 course, after UT I was feeling much more positive my leg had held out and I was feeling strong for the recce days.
These two days were some of my favorite days of training, on the Friday we parked at Buttermere and worked our way backwards along the route to Wasdale before eating our evening meal and then returning in the dark. Watching the moon rise from Scarth Gap was something very special.
This is really a list of the significant runs, during this period I managed to average between 50km - 60km per week with some peak weeks of 70 miles.
From May I focused on my diet cutting out all sugar and refined carbs managing to loose just over 3kg prior to race day. With hindsight I left this late and should have had a better focus earlier on as initially as I upped my miles I gained weight never a good idea when you have to carry yourself such a long distance!!!
Did I train enough?
I probably did manage enough miles to complete the L100 but I suspect they were not fast enough - LM42 was great training but we probably didn't really push ourselves enough on the day instead focusing on having a good day.
Annecy would have been a brilliant boost and any time running in the Alps help massively with the ascents on the L100 - Sail Pass feels like a merry hill after slogging upwards for several hours.
I didn't respond well to injuries, going for an ignore and it will go away approach - this stopped me from upping my training further and damaged my confidence in the days leading to the L100 start.
L100 - 2015.The road to DNF - Race Day
Its Pitch black, the paths skitter in various directions through the trees, I can hear the stream far below me and to my right in my peripheral vision a bush turns its self in to a dinosaur. Its 4am, I'm on my own, I'm 27 miles in to the L100 and everything has officially gone tits up ...
The day had come round with me feeling okay, unusually I had slept like the dead on the preceding nights and even managed a nana nap on Thursday afternoon after stuffing my face on unlimited salad and pizza at pizza hut.
I enjoyed Friday waiting to go, an early registration meant there was nothing to do all day except eat, snooze and faff (perfect). My Mum came along to the start with my girls and as I was running in a pair with Liz her husband Wayne had brought their youngest daughter to see us off. Usual running partner Sue was around to keep us sane, with the added bonus of her 11 week old baby Evie - they would both be waiting for us at Buttermere CP where they were spending the night marshaling.
The start was as all starts are, an eternity of waiting until you finally eek forwards through the crowds, and out on to the fell. For me the late start, heading off towards sunset was amazing, and the view from the top of Walna Scar breath taking, a perfect clear evening looking over to the Scafell mountains with Mickledore looking so close you felt you could reach over and touch it. Once through Seathwaite we headed back up to Grassguards with its dive bombing midges and the impossibility of dry feet through the bog. Starting the descent to Boot I turned to be treated to Harter Fell pretending to be Ayres Rock and shimmering red in the sunset - I suddenly wished I had a camera.
Once darkness fell I could only continue to be stunned by the night time Lake District, watching the moon shimmer across Burnmore Tarn - I guess if I'm honest I would have like to have been running more but I made myself not stress too much about time and take in my surroundings.
Arriving at the Stroller Disco was ... well ... a bit like arriving a a nightclub just after closing! I'm sure when its busy its brilliant but at the back of the field the sudden arrival to lights and 10 marshals asking questions it was mostly overwhelming. I think we were both glad to be out of there and heading up Blacksail Pass.
It was on this ascent that I finally admitted something I had known since Seathwaite - we were going to be stopping at Buttermere. We would either time out on this section or we would be so close to the cut off it would not be worth carrying on. It was funny, once I openly let the thought in to my head and rolled it about a bit I was fairly accepting. I wondered if Liz knew, I decided this ascent was not the place for such a conversation, plus I was distracted by projectile vomiting my Stroller coffee in to the bracken without warning. As far as ascents go, its a lovely one, you could see the lights of those further ahead which acted as a nice motivator to keep pottering upwards, its almost disappointing when you get to the top as the descent is a total nightmare - suddenly out of the darkness Liz said "why don't you go" - I'm momentarily confused thinking "go where" - "I'm not feeling well" she says, "I'm not sure I can carry on, I think you should know". I know that I can't leave her here, I rummage about in my head to see if I mind - I don't (phew). I'm fairly clear with her that I cant leave her here by herself and we carry on.
Being honest though, until she says it, I haven't thought it, but once it's said its there in my head - I can't go yet but would I? We have a cathartic girly chat over Scarth Gap - boys, jobs, it reminds me of teenage drunken nights in club toilets. I'm aware that the setting might be different but i'm slightly amused to realise i'm still wearing a miniskirt with shorts underneath, and trainers.
Once we are through the worst of Scarth Gap descent Liz says repeatedly for me to go and make the cut off - she will retire at Buttermere. I'd like to say it took her a lot of persuasion but it didn't, we have a tearful hug and I set off running, stopping and turning once before flying along the lake passing other runners all the way. I burst in to the CP sobbing and am immediately shoved in a cupboard by Sue - one hotdog and a good talking to later and I'm on my way -but i'm on my own!
Sail Pass goes without incident, the fact I had loved this ascent on the recce day really helped me keep going, and I trot down in to Braithwaite excited about a CP - i'm disappointed, the marshals look equally dissapointed that I've burst in to their peace and quiet and they watch silently as I shuffle about getting myself some food, I slightly helplessly wave my water bottle at them as I ask if I can fill it, and if there is any possibility of a cup of tea. Still the general misery gets me out of there opting to take my tea with me as I head along the A66.
I note along here that my feet are really sore, especially my left foot (its always the left everything) I had manged to grow a patch of trench foot on UT55 I have a feeling its back. I keep up a run / walk along here I recced this with Gaynor in December and she declared people that walk it silly, so with that in my head I do my best, but i'm flagging and there's no one else around - thats making me find it tough to motivate myself. Just as I come out of the small path close to the Filling Station a mini pulls up - "how funny" I think, "thats just like Gaynors car", even stranger as the owner gets out peering over the road I think "how funny that person looks just like Gaynor" by some odd coincidence Gaynor on her way to work decided to drive along the A66 and managed to bump straight in to me. .. i'm glad she took a picture or I would never have believed it. We chat for a few minutes before she sends me off down the road, the boost I get from seeing people or receiving texts at this point is remarkable - turns out i'm quite a social runner, I don't need people to chat with but I really like the hustle and bustle of feeling part of something. I note that because of my position that's seriously lacking today!
Climbing up towards Latrigg car park I catch up with a few people, and stumble over a couple of runners taking a breakfast stop, my feet are really sore but these small social interactions give me enough motivation to enjoy the run round to Blencathra. I'm fairly sure at this point that I'm not going to make the Dalemain cut-off and would rather stop with friends, so decide that I will stop here at the CP I marshaled at last year with Dave Cummins and Sarah Lowe
... "Don't be ridiculous" yells Dave, wearing a pink tutu and shoving cake in my hand, "you've 45 minutes in hand here, sort yourself out"
I poke my foot, its worse than I had imagined so I stick a variety of padding, tape and plasters on the bottom unsure of what might improve things, and head out with another runner. "I only like flat really" he declares ... "right, this ones quite hilly you know" I respond! Still his love of flat does me a favor because the next bit is flat and we chat and run most of the railway line.
I reach the hated and dreaded Coach Road, the sun is blasting down ... and ... i'm running and I love it (sorry everyone else). For the first time in ever a teeny thought comes in to my head - I CAN DO THIS. I make a deal with myself if I get to Dalemain before 2:30pm I'm going to go for it - nothing will stop me - my foot screams in agony - shut up foot I declare!
Around an hour later I'm in tears, I'm lost, I'm exhausted and of course I can't finish the L100 - I'm somewhere on Gowbarrow and even my ham and pickle sarni isn't helping anymore, I try a salt liquorish, a beef hoola hoop, I sit down, I stand up and re-read the instructions while I walk in a circle.
"turn right by ruin" - check
"go in to wood" - check
Here in is the problem, there are no foot prints on the path in to the wood - surely if 300 runners had passed this way I would be able to see it.
I weigh up my lifelines ...
50/50 - I could keep going it might be right. I wander forwards tentatively - the wood looks menacing.
Ask the audience - i've not seen another runner since Aira Force (in my head hours ago - hours and hours I later declare - in the cold light of the week after, probably about 20 minutes)
Phone a friend - I hit Sue on speed dial.
"I am lost" I declare
"um ... okay, what can you see?"
"trees, I'm in a wood"
"Anything else" she asks reasonably while getting out the L100 map in Coniston.
"Nope"
"You know you should be in a wood?"
"Yes, it says so on my descriptions, but it's not this wood"
... signal goes, or Sue just smacks her head against a large wall with frustration at the idiocy of this conversation.
I tentatively go forwards ... Sue stops hitting her head against a wall and calls me back.
"are you still lost?"
"oh yes, I've just gone past the gorse bushes bit"
"so you're not lost"
"I am"
Signal goes again and I stumble over another runner looking equally confused.
"we are lost" I declare cheerfully "shall we go forwards" He shrugs and we go onwards until finally the route description seems to match again.
I have later checked the trace from my GPS and never put a toe off the route in this or any other section!
This faffing about had really put the boot in, and as I limp the next 5 miles to Dalemain I'm pretty sure i'm done ... I come round the corner to the check point to realise that my damed friends are determined to scupper all hopes of a peaceful DNF - i'm going to have to fight for it.
"Hello" say Gaynor, Kim, Beverly, Susan and Angela - seriously i'm knakered and I have to argue the toss with this lot.
"I got lost" I say experimentally - Thats not working I know the 50 route really well.
"I will time out" - I'm about an hour under the cut off here.
"ah my foot hurts" - "we can sort that says Gaynor" and I'm momentarily hopeful - her face as I present my foot says it all. I'm out, this isn't a blister or two this is whole scale rotting foot with chunks of skin peeling away.
I get the dibber taken off, and I watch the final snip as it falls in to the bag of broken dreams.
"Thank god" I shriek merrily "100 miles is not my distance - lets go for a pint"
... is it not though ... is it really not? I owe Liz massively I would never have had the nerve to enter the L100 without her prompting, and now I have a month to make a decision if with the extra knowledge I have from a DNF if I might, just might have another go.
Watch this space ;)
Watch this space ;)
Orsieres - Champex - Chamonix OCC - part of the UTMB trail series
As always I assume that no one much will read this, so mostly its just for me, so I don't forget (but if you are reading it's far too long and will require at least one cup of tea and several biscuits) ...
My trail to Chamonix really started in October 2009 when after successfully completing two charity 100km events I was 'googling' long distance events (I had never heard the term ultra-marathon then) and stumbled across a blog, bizarrely written by someone who lived only a few miles from me, and who I now know as we run for the same running club. The blog told of an event, 165km around Mont Blanc, of competitors curled in heaps being sick, of suffering with fatigue, altitude, dehydration a quick search on you-tube showed broken husks of people stumbling over the finish line in Chamonix falling to the ground in a dazed but happy stupor ... like any normal, sane, person I though I would love to have a bit of that.
A few years later having done some events (L50 / Ultimate Trails) you get a better perspective of what a huge undertaking the UTMB actually is, so really I had shelved any plans of having a go over the years but in 2013 our holiday to Annecy (somehow) coincided with the race and we headed up to Chamonix for the weekend to watch the race from there - I expected to hate it, I love the low key approach of smaller events or LDWA events. Yet having made the children stand in the sunshine for 4 hours so we could have a good spectator spot I loved it. Yep it was tacky, and loud, but it was something different to anything I have experienced in the UK, so I went away wondering about the CCC (96km) but I was still nervous about the level of training I would need to get round, knowing there would be no opportunity to get on to the course before race day. In October I was delighted when a new race was announced the 'fun run' version. A mere 56km jaunt with 3500mD+, I promised my husband there was no chance of getting in first go and put my name in the ballot, in January I explained to my husband that the impossible had happened and I was in.
Training
I started training with a fractured wrist from a fall in December and a lot of heel pain from Plantar Fasciitis but managed to keep running low mileage with a couple of events while this fixed. My training plan was to run an event each month to help improve my speed but nothing so long that it would need a significant recovery.
February - Silverdale Circuit 23 miles
March - Dewentwater Amble 23 miles
April - Spring in Lakeland 23 miles
May - Keswick to Barrow Race 40 miles
June - Rings of Shap - 42 miles
August - Tour of Bradwell - 33 miles (DNF at 28 miles after falling and fracturing 2 fingers)
My average weekly mileage was between 25 - 35 miles but building to a set of peak weeks in June / July where I ran over 70 miles per week. I also did multiple ascents of Scafell Pike one wet Saturday in late July which helped with my mental toughness as turning from the warm camper in the pub carpark to climb again in the cold mist was tough going.
The Event
After a week in Annecy we arrived in Chamonix on the Tuesday of UTMB week in torrential rain, my 'waterproof' jacket instantly decided it had always dreamed of being a windproof and let every drop straight through so after an initial panicked search for a new one I settled on using McDonalds Wi-Fi to see when the rain would stop - it would be fine on Thursday so I settled on buying a new pack instead (I've never signed up to all this don't wear new kit on race day especially not for only 50+kms). We left Chamonix to effectively drive the route backwards to Switzerland where we were going to stay until the race, I thought this would help me get my head round the route - it was an inspired idea the road weaves past the CP's and you can see all the mountains ... well you probably can when its not throwing it down and so misty that seeing the front of the camper van was a challenge. We arrived in La Fouly wet, cold and miserable I was regretting the whole enterprise still too late now so with Daizys help we checked off and packed my kit.
Registration wasn't due to open on Wednesday until 5pm so the plan was to spend the day around La Fouly before driving to Orsieres in the afternoon - thankfully the day dawned bring and sunny but with a cold breeze especially when we headed up one of the chair lifts to 2000m. I decided that it would be easy to be caught out and wear too few clothes on the race and be cold so I put out my capri running tights and a black L50 tshirt for the morning and headed to registration. Registration was delayed and opened a couple of hours late but finally after a rigorous kit check I was cleared and issued with my race number. We headed back to the campsite for a meal and some sleep.
My alarm sounded at 5.45am and eating my breakfast outside under a million stars, while slowly the sun rose and lit up the glacier behind me was a perfect start to the day. Arriving at the start at 7.30am standing among 1200 runners packed in to the narrow streets I made an error by wandering to the back thinking that way I could just take things at my own pace assuming everyone would be pretty speedy and not wanting to put pressure on myself in the first few km - I had jogged the first couple of kms the previous day and knew they were easy running but still didn't want to get carried away - I also noticed standing there that the air was hot even this early in the morning and that unlike the previous day there was no bite to the breeze, I put it down to being in the town and ignored the fact that everyone else was in shorts and singlets as there was nothing I could do about it. At 7.45am someone dressed in traditional costume played a trombone badly, the town mayor said a few words, the UTMB commentator said a few words on how terrible this would be, how much we would suffer but how pleased we would all be at the end (thanks!) count down commenced in about 70 languages and
we were off ...
well ...
not exactly.
Orrsieres - Trient
In front of me people shuffled a bit over the start line then when confronted with a very small gradient of hill started to walk getting through the wall of shufflers was more challenging by the number of horizontal racing poles. I did my best to weave my way through slightly crossly before deciding to just go with it no point getting huffy starting from the back was my mistake. Eventually the whole thing ground to a halt, I expected a style or a swing gate and so was very surprised to see a railway sleeper where everyone was gingerly crossing one at a time - seriously aaargh! finally off again running through the first village where all the school children were sitting on the school wall high-fiving and ringing cow bells calling ALLEZ, ALLEZ. The track then narrowed and the next 5km were stop start in the queue I screwed up my split times in my pocket and decided just to relax and enjoy the atmosphere and the scenery rather than be cross.
Leaving the checkpoint at Champex-Lac and running along the road by the lake will always be one of my favourite moments. Looking around the snow covered mountains, under a cloudless blue sky reminded me why I was here - I was also passing people as there was lots of space along the road and wide forest track as the gradient steepened I conserved energy by running / walking between the markers and decided I didn't know what all the fuss was about with Bovine ... a sharp left turn and the path shot up skyward, ah! I loved it through the whole climb, the pace in the line was quick enough to feel that good progress was being made but still slow enough to take in the views, scrambling past the donkey trains was slightly /very unnerving with a drop of several thousand feet off to your side so picking a good moment to go was vital (also watching where you were behind them as when a donkeys go to go, its got to go). Once out of the forest close to Bovine Refuge the heat hit me, this was nothing like the day before and I was seriously over dressed, the huge orange helicopter kitted out with both rescue and film equipment hovered along side the line of runners, so close you could feel the downdraft from the rota blades. I resisted the urge to wave - not wanting to cause a rescue.
During the descent to Trient I tried to up the amount of fluids I was taking in and to eat some pureed fruit as the heat was making me feel dizzy. Arriving in the CP it was busy so I quickly drank some coke and ate an orange and headed back out and upwards ... and upwards. An American woman weaved in front of me before sitting down heavily on a tree stump. I asked if she was ok she nodded and put her head down, a couple of other runners stopped and turned and headed back down in the heat. A couple of km's in I began to feel sick everytime the path come out of the woods and in to the sunshine, my pace was slowing and the marker became the focus again walk to the marker / rest and drink / walk to marker. I had imagined the switchbacks in the paths to offer some relief to the gradients but in reality being able to see people above and below becomes draining so I shoved my I-pod in and resolved to look neither up or down. With nausea building my pace had slowed to the point where my garmin couldn't pick up a moving speed and my carefully built cushion against the cut offs built in the early sections was drifting away, I slumped against a tree to be sick, shaking waiting for every other competitor to clamber over me - if you read about the UTMB that's always the impression given that other will just ignore an injured / broken runner - i'm pleased to say that not one single person walked by, and in a range of languages I was offered drinks, company, food, wipes, anti-sickness pills from competitors kits. Once over the top the isolated CP comes in to view and I was able to get hold of some plain water (used to running with handhelds I run with squash and so had just filled my reservoir with the same it was vile by this point as well as warm) and immediately felt better and was finally able to start running again on the steep descent down to Vallorcine. Being ill had meant that I slipped towards the back of the field and once cheered up I was able to run quickly again so took the spectators by surprise as I flew by in to the CP. Here I tried to catch some noodles floating in the bottom of a large vat of clear soup (the food was pretty crap) after a couple of minutes I gave up and had some of the soup. I also realised I hadn't been for a pee since 7am in the morning it was now 4pm - hmmm not ideal.
Leaving the CP I took a cursory glance at the map ( I noticed 2 more climbs) and headed off to Col De Monts. I loved this section a gentle gradient with the day finally starting to cool and a breeze so ran most of the 4 km section steadily over-taking others on the route by playing a game employed in some of our first events with friends Sue and Kim of picking someone in the distance and then upping your pace to catch them, this section was a bit of a team effort feeling like the girls were there egging me on a bit. For some reason they deserted me at the Col leaving me to face what I believed was the last climb to La Flerge. I attacked the thing, this was it and at 4.30pm suddenly 10 hours was looking good. The time predictor on the tracker also predicted my time in to La Flerge in 9 hours so leaving me an hour to do 7km downhill to Chamonix. Reaching the top of the climb was amazing it was in the bag, I put my poles away I wouldn't be needing those again and set off down. The descent was tough very steep with a few scrambles down steep rocks, this started to confuse me as La Flerge was pretty much at the top of the last ascent, so where the hell was the CP. Then one of the trail marker posts came in to view I looked to see if had Flerge on it - yes but the predicted time was still 1hr 30, I ignored it as the posts are often wrong or they are going another way. Then the trail turned and headed up again - the truth was slowly dawning - maybe just a little up before the CP?! ever hopeful. I glanced upwards confirmed this was no little up.
30 minutes later the nausea returned with a vengeance, the focus had evaporated as I realised I should have looked properly at the map in Vallocine (a proper look would have shown two small climbs and descents before a longer ascent to Flerge) I kept switching places with an Italian couple him holding her hand and hauling her on, they had all the swish gear (she was wearing one of those salomon skorts that cost more than the entire kit I was wearing) and I felt like a scruff in comparison in my holey running tights and free event t-shirt. Still when it came to it she wasn't fairing any better for having all the kit! Every time he let her had go she flopped on to the nearest rock or tree stump and had a cry. I couldn't understand the actual conversation but could get the gist of the cajoling and coaxing from him, and a range of how this was all his fault from her. by now I was being sick again and just moving was becoming an issue - what I didn't know was that those watching the tracker knew something was very wrong as my predicted arrival time came and went eventually predicting I wouldn't make the finish before the final 10pm cut-off. Still I kept shuffling along until a cable car came in to view. As the CP is at a cable car station my heart leapt and my pace increased ... the crushing disappointment when this was a different car - note to self the Chamonix valley is full of cable cars - doh! At a snails pace I wove and wobbled my way across the ski pistes trying not to get hopeful at every cable car station. I think it was pretty miserable at the time but now a couple of weeks later I think it can't have been that bad ... I was still swopping places with the 'all the gear couple' she was sobbing as she walked I would have liked to but it seemed a bit pointless when there was no one to pat my hand. Arriving in the CP I slumped down on a chair spotted by an eagle eyed medic who wandered over and informed me I had to eat and drink before I was allowed to go on. I text Sue I needed someone to make me move 'I can't do it' - I awaited the predicable response of a bollocking. While I sat looking at my soup and noticing that being at the back had some advantages there were some noodles in there and American guy tapped my arm "I don't mean to get in your business but do you have a spare top" that had my attention and I gleefully responded that I did. After a series of near misses with hypothermia (not me) spare tops have become a long standing joke and kit essential among friends "do you need it" I asked he shook his head "no you do you have heatstroke" that was a surprise! "right i'm actually boiling" he raised an eyebrow and I noticed that I was shivering and that half of my soup had been shivered on to the floor "ah. Well spotted" I pulled the top over my head drank the soup and the water showed the eager medic and wobbled outside took about 4 steps, leant on my poles and was violently sick. Helpful American ran back inside to get a medic my brain was frazzled but not enough to work out that if the medic got hold of me I was getting pulled with 7.2km to go - no chance. I wobbled off as fast as my legs would go (about 0.2 kmph) and frantically got my phone out and called Sue for advice)
"ive been really sick and the medics are chasing me a bit to make me stop, what should I do?" Sue had the map to hand "well its 7.2km and all down hill, if your moving keep going"
After a chat I took some time to read the messages on my phone, back to a team effort, about 20 minutes out I called John and croaked at him to get me a drink not a beer an actual drink water, lemonade anything as by now the sickness and the lack of drinking enough from the bladder meant even I could tell I was going to be pretty dehydrated when I stopped. I was catching people again and as I came in to Chamonix was once again behind the couple I could have over-taken them but it somehow felt wrong so I ambled along behind them. Coming through the town to the finish was surreal it was going dark and people were enjoying a night out with stag partys dressed as super-heroes mixed in with finished runners, and runners waiting for the other races later in the week but the cheering was amazing.
I had always wanted to finish with the girls so was thrilled to see John standing with them a few meters from the end I grabbed them and ran over the finish. DONE ... 13:22 - 3 hours slower than I hoped but I was please to have stuck with it and finished.
I woke the next day and braced myself to painfully climb out of the van but was a bit surprised to find that my legs had no aches at all, this lead to a day of feeling frustrated as clearly I had trained enough for my 10 hour time but the nausea from the heat had made it impossible to move as fast I was capable of. A couple of weeks later I'm more focused on having not given up and take positives from the fact that the training had worked and that gives me confidence for the future. I'd love to run in the alps again I loved the atmosphere and found the other competitors friendly and welcoming, and knowing what to expect would help me to prepare more effectively - not that anything in the UK can really prepare you for the climbs.
My trail to Chamonix really started in October 2009 when after successfully completing two charity 100km events I was 'googling' long distance events (I had never heard the term ultra-marathon then) and stumbled across a blog, bizarrely written by someone who lived only a few miles from me, and who I now know as we run for the same running club. The blog told of an event, 165km around Mont Blanc, of competitors curled in heaps being sick, of suffering with fatigue, altitude, dehydration a quick search on you-tube showed broken husks of people stumbling over the finish line in Chamonix falling to the ground in a dazed but happy stupor ... like any normal, sane, person I though I would love to have a bit of that.
A few years later having done some events (L50 / Ultimate Trails) you get a better perspective of what a huge undertaking the UTMB actually is, so really I had shelved any plans of having a go over the years but in 2013 our holiday to Annecy (somehow) coincided with the race and we headed up to Chamonix for the weekend to watch the race from there - I expected to hate it, I love the low key approach of smaller events or LDWA events. Yet having made the children stand in the sunshine for 4 hours so we could have a good spectator spot I loved it. Yep it was tacky, and loud, but it was something different to anything I have experienced in the UK, so I went away wondering about the CCC (96km) but I was still nervous about the level of training I would need to get round, knowing there would be no opportunity to get on to the course before race day. In October I was delighted when a new race was announced the 'fun run' version. A mere 56km jaunt with 3500mD+, I promised my husband there was no chance of getting in first go and put my name in the ballot, in January I explained to my husband that the impossible had happened and I was in.
Training
I started training with a fractured wrist from a fall in December and a lot of heel pain from Plantar Fasciitis but managed to keep running low mileage with a couple of events while this fixed. My training plan was to run an event each month to help improve my speed but nothing so long that it would need a significant recovery.
February - Silverdale Circuit 23 miles
March - Dewentwater Amble 23 miles
April - Spring in Lakeland 23 miles
May - Keswick to Barrow Race 40 miles
June - Rings of Shap - 42 miles
August - Tour of Bradwell - 33 miles (DNF at 28 miles after falling and fracturing 2 fingers)
My average weekly mileage was between 25 - 35 miles but building to a set of peak weeks in June / July where I ran over 70 miles per week. I also did multiple ascents of Scafell Pike one wet Saturday in late July which helped with my mental toughness as turning from the warm camper in the pub carpark to climb again in the cold mist was tough going.
The Event
After a week in Annecy we arrived in Chamonix on the Tuesday of UTMB week in torrential rain, my 'waterproof' jacket instantly decided it had always dreamed of being a windproof and let every drop straight through so after an initial panicked search for a new one I settled on using McDonalds Wi-Fi to see when the rain would stop - it would be fine on Thursday so I settled on buying a new pack instead (I've never signed up to all this don't wear new kit on race day especially not for only 50+kms). We left Chamonix to effectively drive the route backwards to Switzerland where we were going to stay until the race, I thought this would help me get my head round the route - it was an inspired idea the road weaves past the CP's and you can see all the mountains ... well you probably can when its not throwing it down and so misty that seeing the front of the camper van was a challenge. We arrived in La Fouly wet, cold and miserable I was regretting the whole enterprise still too late now so with Daizys help we checked off and packed my kit.
Registration wasn't due to open on Wednesday until 5pm so the plan was to spend the day around La Fouly before driving to Orsieres in the afternoon - thankfully the day dawned bring and sunny but with a cold breeze especially when we headed up one of the chair lifts to 2000m. I decided that it would be easy to be caught out and wear too few clothes on the race and be cold so I put out my capri running tights and a black L50 tshirt for the morning and headed to registration. Registration was delayed and opened a couple of hours late but finally after a rigorous kit check I was cleared and issued with my race number. We headed back to the campsite for a meal and some sleep.
My alarm sounded at 5.45am and eating my breakfast outside under a million stars, while slowly the sun rose and lit up the glacier behind me was a perfect start to the day. Arriving at the start at 7.30am standing among 1200 runners packed in to the narrow streets I made an error by wandering to the back thinking that way I could just take things at my own pace assuming everyone would be pretty speedy and not wanting to put pressure on myself in the first few km - I had jogged the first couple of kms the previous day and knew they were easy running but still didn't want to get carried away - I also noticed standing there that the air was hot even this early in the morning and that unlike the previous day there was no bite to the breeze, I put it down to being in the town and ignored the fact that everyone else was in shorts and singlets as there was nothing I could do about it. At 7.45am someone dressed in traditional costume played a trombone badly, the town mayor said a few words, the UTMB commentator said a few words on how terrible this would be, how much we would suffer but how pleased we would all be at the end (thanks!) count down commenced in about 70 languages and
we were off ...
well ...
not exactly.
Orrsieres - Trient
In front of me people shuffled a bit over the start line then when confronted with a very small gradient of hill started to walk getting through the wall of shufflers was more challenging by the number of horizontal racing poles. I did my best to weave my way through slightly crossly before deciding to just go with it no point getting huffy starting from the back was my mistake. Eventually the whole thing ground to a halt, I expected a style or a swing gate and so was very surprised to see a railway sleeper where everyone was gingerly crossing one at a time - seriously aaargh! finally off again running through the first village where all the school children were sitting on the school wall high-fiving and ringing cow bells calling ALLEZ, ALLEZ. The track then narrowed and the next 5km were stop start in the queue I screwed up my split times in my pocket and decided just to relax and enjoy the atmosphere and the scenery rather than be cross.
Leaving the checkpoint at Champex-Lac and running along the road by the lake will always be one of my favourite moments. Looking around the snow covered mountains, under a cloudless blue sky reminded me why I was here - I was also passing people as there was lots of space along the road and wide forest track as the gradient steepened I conserved energy by running / walking between the markers and decided I didn't know what all the fuss was about with Bovine ... a sharp left turn and the path shot up skyward, ah! I loved it through the whole climb, the pace in the line was quick enough to feel that good progress was being made but still slow enough to take in the views, scrambling past the donkey trains was slightly /very unnerving with a drop of several thousand feet off to your side so picking a good moment to go was vital (also watching where you were behind them as when a donkeys go to go, its got to go). Once out of the forest close to Bovine Refuge the heat hit me, this was nothing like the day before and I was seriously over dressed, the huge orange helicopter kitted out with both rescue and film equipment hovered along side the line of runners, so close you could feel the downdraft from the rota blades. I resisted the urge to wave - not wanting to cause a rescue.
During the descent to Trient I tried to up the amount of fluids I was taking in and to eat some pureed fruit as the heat was making me feel dizzy. Arriving in the CP it was busy so I quickly drank some coke and ate an orange and headed back out and upwards ... and upwards. An American woman weaved in front of me before sitting down heavily on a tree stump. I asked if she was ok she nodded and put her head down, a couple of other runners stopped and turned and headed back down in the heat. A couple of km's in I began to feel sick everytime the path come out of the woods and in to the sunshine, my pace was slowing and the marker became the focus again walk to the marker / rest and drink / walk to marker. I had imagined the switchbacks in the paths to offer some relief to the gradients but in reality being able to see people above and below becomes draining so I shoved my I-pod in and resolved to look neither up or down. With nausea building my pace had slowed to the point where my garmin couldn't pick up a moving speed and my carefully built cushion against the cut offs built in the early sections was drifting away, I slumped against a tree to be sick, shaking waiting for every other competitor to clamber over me - if you read about the UTMB that's always the impression given that other will just ignore an injured / broken runner - i'm pleased to say that not one single person walked by, and in a range of languages I was offered drinks, company, food, wipes, anti-sickness pills from competitors kits. Once over the top the isolated CP comes in to view and I was able to get hold of some plain water (used to running with handhelds I run with squash and so had just filled my reservoir with the same it was vile by this point as well as warm) and immediately felt better and was finally able to start running again on the steep descent down to Vallorcine. Being ill had meant that I slipped towards the back of the field and once cheered up I was able to run quickly again so took the spectators by surprise as I flew by in to the CP. Here I tried to catch some noodles floating in the bottom of a large vat of clear soup (the food was pretty crap) after a couple of minutes I gave up and had some of the soup. I also realised I hadn't been for a pee since 7am in the morning it was now 4pm - hmmm not ideal.
Leaving the CP I took a cursory glance at the map ( I noticed 2 more climbs) and headed off to Col De Monts. I loved this section a gentle gradient with the day finally starting to cool and a breeze so ran most of the 4 km section steadily over-taking others on the route by playing a game employed in some of our first events with friends Sue and Kim of picking someone in the distance and then upping your pace to catch them, this section was a bit of a team effort feeling like the girls were there egging me on a bit. For some reason they deserted me at the Col leaving me to face what I believed was the last climb to La Flerge. I attacked the thing, this was it and at 4.30pm suddenly 10 hours was looking good. The time predictor on the tracker also predicted my time in to La Flerge in 9 hours so leaving me an hour to do 7km downhill to Chamonix. Reaching the top of the climb was amazing it was in the bag, I put my poles away I wouldn't be needing those again and set off down. The descent was tough very steep with a few scrambles down steep rocks, this started to confuse me as La Flerge was pretty much at the top of the last ascent, so where the hell was the CP. Then one of the trail marker posts came in to view I looked to see if had Flerge on it - yes but the predicted time was still 1hr 30, I ignored it as the posts are often wrong or they are going another way. Then the trail turned and headed up again - the truth was slowly dawning - maybe just a little up before the CP?! ever hopeful. I glanced upwards confirmed this was no little up.
30 minutes later the nausea returned with a vengeance, the focus had evaporated as I realised I should have looked properly at the map in Vallocine (a proper look would have shown two small climbs and descents before a longer ascent to Flerge) I kept switching places with an Italian couple him holding her hand and hauling her on, they had all the swish gear (she was wearing one of those salomon skorts that cost more than the entire kit I was wearing) and I felt like a scruff in comparison in my holey running tights and free event t-shirt. Still when it came to it she wasn't fairing any better for having all the kit! Every time he let her had go she flopped on to the nearest rock or tree stump and had a cry. I couldn't understand the actual conversation but could get the gist of the cajoling and coaxing from him, and a range of how this was all his fault from her. by now I was being sick again and just moving was becoming an issue - what I didn't know was that those watching the tracker knew something was very wrong as my predicted arrival time came and went eventually predicting I wouldn't make the finish before the final 10pm cut-off. Still I kept shuffling along until a cable car came in to view. As the CP is at a cable car station my heart leapt and my pace increased ... the crushing disappointment when this was a different car - note to self the Chamonix valley is full of cable cars - doh! At a snails pace I wove and wobbled my way across the ski pistes trying not to get hopeful at every cable car station. I think it was pretty miserable at the time but now a couple of weeks later I think it can't have been that bad ... I was still swopping places with the 'all the gear couple' she was sobbing as she walked I would have liked to but it seemed a bit pointless when there was no one to pat my hand. Arriving in the CP I slumped down on a chair spotted by an eagle eyed medic who wandered over and informed me I had to eat and drink before I was allowed to go on. I text Sue I needed someone to make me move 'I can't do it' - I awaited the predicable response of a bollocking. While I sat looking at my soup and noticing that being at the back had some advantages there were some noodles in there and American guy tapped my arm "I don't mean to get in your business but do you have a spare top" that had my attention and I gleefully responded that I did. After a series of near misses with hypothermia (not me) spare tops have become a long standing joke and kit essential among friends "do you need it" I asked he shook his head "no you do you have heatstroke" that was a surprise! "right i'm actually boiling" he raised an eyebrow and I noticed that I was shivering and that half of my soup had been shivered on to the floor "ah. Well spotted" I pulled the top over my head drank the soup and the water showed the eager medic and wobbled outside took about 4 steps, leant on my poles and was violently sick. Helpful American ran back inside to get a medic my brain was frazzled but not enough to work out that if the medic got hold of me I was getting pulled with 7.2km to go - no chance. I wobbled off as fast as my legs would go (about 0.2 kmph) and frantically got my phone out and called Sue for advice)
"ive been really sick and the medics are chasing me a bit to make me stop, what should I do?" Sue had the map to hand "well its 7.2km and all down hill, if your moving keep going"
After a chat I took some time to read the messages on my phone, back to a team effort, about 20 minutes out I called John and croaked at him to get me a drink not a beer an actual drink water, lemonade anything as by now the sickness and the lack of drinking enough from the bladder meant even I could tell I was going to be pretty dehydrated when I stopped. I was catching people again and as I came in to Chamonix was once again behind the couple I could have over-taken them but it somehow felt wrong so I ambled along behind them. Coming through the town to the finish was surreal it was going dark and people were enjoying a night out with stag partys dressed as super-heroes mixed in with finished runners, and runners waiting for the other races later in the week but the cheering was amazing.
I had always wanted to finish with the girls so was thrilled to see John standing with them a few meters from the end I grabbed them and ran over the finish. DONE ... 13:22 - 3 hours slower than I hoped but I was please to have stuck with it and finished.
I woke the next day and braced myself to painfully climb out of the van but was a bit surprised to find that my legs had no aches at all, this lead to a day of feeling frustrated as clearly I had trained enough for my 10 hour time but the nausea from the heat had made it impossible to move as fast I was capable of. A couple of weeks later I'm more focused on having not given up and take positives from the fact that the training had worked and that gives me confidence for the future. I'd love to run in the alps again I loved the atmosphere and found the other competitors friendly and welcoming, and knowing what to expect would help me to prepare more effectively - not that anything in the UK can really prepare you for the climbs.
Sunday, 20 October 2013
Lancaster Trail Half Marathon
So time to fess up, the reason there's not much running in my blog is I don't really run, not proper running anyway, you know the keen sort of flat fast running proper runners do! So when after the Ultimate Trails and Born Survivor I decided to try and get better at the flat bits I on a whim signed up to the Lancaster Trail Half it's along the canal so it's flat as a pancake and I did mean to train but that didn't go to plan so the only specific training id squeezed in was 1 x 10 mile, 1 x 6 mile on the flattest route I could find in Kendal (not very flat) on top of a couple of speed sessions.
The plan was sub 2.30 and no walking.
Mile 1
Scenery = round the army base slightly surreal to run by army folks shooting targets
Mental = I don't think I like this, I could be on the fells walking up to run down
Mile 2 - 4
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = I don't like this, when is the hill, why is every one overtaking me
Mile 5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = over took a canal boat, I love this
Mile 6 - 9.5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = I can run quite far ... Cool
Mile 9.5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
AAAAAAAARGH ... My calf explodes in pain and I lurch almost head first in to the canal don't stop running, what do I do, panic, there are no more marshals until the finish so the only logical thing I can think of is slow down a bit but keep running (its only now that I realise I could have turned back to the drink station at 9 miles, but at the time all I thought was I did 10km with a shin fracture how hard can 4 miles be with a micro tear - possibly it's not so micro anymore) and (wo)man up!
Miles 10 - 12
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, Field to left
Mental = hurts. Still running.
Miles 12 - 13
Scenery = hill.
Mental = now there's a chuffing hill! Photographer ... Smile I'm having a great time.
Mile 13.1
Done.
So did I enjoy it? No not really, but I ran it all and realise with out the exploding calf I would have been fairly close to 2 hours or possibly even below, my clock time was 2.05 (I suspect even if I was wearing a watch I would have put a bit more effort in on the final 2 miles I truly thought I was fighting for 2.30)
If I want to get faster long distance I need to grit a few of these out, I can run much further than I thought and I'm in pretty good shape apart from the injury and even with it I was ok for swimming an hour after I finished.
The plan was sub 2.30 and no walking.
Mile 1
Scenery = round the army base slightly surreal to run by army folks shooting targets
Mental = I don't think I like this, I could be on the fells walking up to run down
Mile 2 - 4
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = I don't like this, when is the hill, why is every one overtaking me
Mile 5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = over took a canal boat, I love this
Mile 6 - 9.5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = I can run quite far ... Cool
Mile 9.5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
AAAAAAAARGH ... My calf explodes in pain and I lurch almost head first in to the canal don't stop running, what do I do, panic, there are no more marshals until the finish so the only logical thing I can think of is slow down a bit but keep running (its only now that I realise I could have turned back to the drink station at 9 miles, but at the time all I thought was I did 10km with a shin fracture how hard can 4 miles be with a micro tear - possibly it's not so micro anymore) and (wo)man up!
Miles 10 - 12
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, Field to left
Mental = hurts. Still running.
Miles 12 - 13
Scenery = hill.
Mental = now there's a chuffing hill! Photographer ... Smile I'm having a great time.
Mile 13.1
Done.
So did I enjoy it? No not really, but I ran it all and realise with out the exploding calf I would have been fairly close to 2 hours or possibly even below, my clock time was 2.05 (I suspect even if I was wearing a watch I would have put a bit more effort in on the final 2 miles I truly thought I was fighting for 2.30)
If I want to get faster long distance I need to grit a few of these out, I can run much further than I thought and I'm in pretty good shape apart from the injury and even with it I was ok for swimming an hour after I finished.
Wednesday, 16 October 2013
Meeting heroes.
When I was 9 years old I met Chris Bonnington, I don’t
remember much about the talk he had given but I can remember every detail of
where I was standing when I looked in to his kindly face and confidently
announced “I like the look of Everest, could I climb it one day” he raised an
eyebrow and told me of course I could if I wanted. I have never climbed
Everest and suspect based on the fact
that Striding Edge makes me want to be sick with fear that I never will, but I
do remember that he seemed like a pretty ordinary man that had done some
extraordinary things and that is a good thing for kids to know.
So when I heard that the legend that is Scott Jurek was
coming to the Lakes I instantly asked the girls if they would like to meet him.
L wasn’t keen but D (who wants to grow up to be a running chef – not both at
the same time)was keen so along with Sue, my Mum and my Mum’s friend we headed
up to Ambleside.
As D nervously edged her self forwards Scott turned and
beamed, and our usually silent and serious child beamed back and hopped forwards
“do you run” asked
Scott
“yes I go to a fell
running club” Scott smiled and said “I can tell, long legs, long arms perfect
for a runner, does your Mum run?”
“she tries” said D. (Thanks!)
“I have a question,
what should I do when I get stitch?”
See she is so much more practical than me, I didn’t think of
asking Chris Bonnington how to climb Everest, and so now we practice as advised
by Scott to breath quietly from our belly instead of gaspingly from our chests
and I wonder if when D is older she like me will remember when she met a an
ordinary man who worked hard and became legend
- the next day she met Christine from the Great British Bake Off but
that’s a whole different story!
Running in the darkness ...
I stand at the edge of the darkness with the car park lights
behind me staring forwards across the field at the headtorch lights in the
distance. I wiggle my toes in my speedcross and bite my lip in anticipation;
it’s silent except for the breathing and waiting all around me. “TEN” the shout
comes and fifteen runners burst forwards in to the darkness each trying to
remember the points value of the headtorches in the distance, working out
where to go to get ten and trying not to trip and fall in the pitch black. I think i’ve just sent a six year old flying I stop to
survey the damage where upon the child takes the advantage flies round my legs
in to the dark. My own 6 and 9 year olds skip by and finally we are all back at
base, waiting again ... SEVEN ... the younger kids are soon flopping on the
floor between calls but no one complains, no one asks to stop and with each
call they leap up and race off in to the dark, and just when everyones legs and
lungs are screaming, when it seems like we’ve been running forever, it’s over
and boxes of homemade cake appear by magic from the backs of cars, fixtures,
races and baking are happily discussed between grown- ups and kids alike.
Welcome to junior fell training!
Sunday, 22 September 2013
Making impossible possible - Born Survior 21/09/13
Born Survivor is not an ultra but I'm sneaking it in, it is 'only' a 10km, with 'only' 1000ft of ascent/descent ... but 40 obstacles, two rivers, and a whole lot of mud, all in the amazing surroundings of Lowther Park in Cumbria make it an amazing, tough and surreal experience.
Finishing the 100km last weekend my thoughts by Sunday afternoon had switched to poking the achy bits, checking my feet, and working out what was needed to make sure I was at the start line. I had faired pretty well and was able to run by Monday, and by some miracle my feet that had taken a battering in France had been improved by 24 hours of bog on the Ultimate Trails (I kid you not, a large painful crack up my heel that I stuck together with rock tape at the start had vanished by the end - love you Hokas) Sue on the other hand spent the week with her feet in a bowl of antiseptic to blast the blisters and with her feet up on a box at work to try and fix a swollen ankle. She finally went to the docs on Friday evening to be told her foot was too swollen to be x-rayed (!?) and that as there was no diagnosis the doctor wasn't prepared to tell her not to run ... Game on! Mentally I was unprepared I'd been so focused on the 100km that this was beyond my capacity for thought so it was a good job we weren't alone, for this we were joined by friends from our weekly HIIT (high impact interval training) class and we were dressed as Wonderwomen and Banana Men ...
Had you asked me 12 months ago I would have said group exercise classes - not my thing, obstacle courses - not my thing, dressing up - totally not my thing!! so here we are doing not my thing - instigated by ... well ... me!
So that got me thinking what was I doing and why? Andy Mouncy in his new project "cracking the spine" says "impossible is just a made up word grown-ups use when they think they [kids] can't" I love this statement but think it might be applicable to some grown ups too (it's the proper grown ups you have to watch) and yesterday each of us in the team faced something that was in the morning impossible - be that climbing an 8 ft wall, diving through a murky river under barrels, (tip opening your eyes won't help you see but will cause silt, grit and mud to stick to your eyeball causing pain, this will stop you from being worried about the dam barrels) Crawling under barbed wire through sticky smelly mud, sliding head fist down a hill on a soapy plastic sheet - what ever your impossible it was all there! So by mid-afternoon so many impossibles were in truth possible.
So I've still not really answered what happened in the last 12 months? where does the boundary between possible and impossible actually lie? ... so a small scientific research project for a Sunday evening to test the hypothesis suggested by Andy.
I'm going to consider three "impossible" events ...
So what I think this shows is that impossible is a concept that doesn't fully exist - to do or not do things is a choice you make (and it is fine to make) and that is not the same as it being impossible. As for what I was doing there in the first place, it is disappointing to find in my 30's that my hunger for a quiet, sensible life on the edge of the Lake District is diminishing not increasing, my appetite for adventure and new experiences grows with each passing year, my need to answer questions about my own capabilities - (how far can I run - how fast can I run - how high can I climb - can I ride a bike - can I swim across a lake) - drive me to grab at all the opportunities I can, mid-life crisis I hear you shout ... yes probably buy hey I'm having a blast so I couldn't care less.
And so, only a week after 100km, ignoring all sensible advice about recovery after an ultra Sue and I along with an amazing group of women and our two banana men stood on the finish podium, we had had several hours of fun, all our families and kids had been almost every step of the course with us, cheering us on and revelling in our success (my kids had also blagged them selves a go on some of the obstacles once the competitors were all through - look out Gaynor P, baking Daizy wants you to design a mini version?!) Would I do it again ... no it's not my sort of thing!!! ;)
Finishing the 100km last weekend my thoughts by Sunday afternoon had switched to poking the achy bits, checking my feet, and working out what was needed to make sure I was at the start line. I had faired pretty well and was able to run by Monday, and by some miracle my feet that had taken a battering in France had been improved by 24 hours of bog on the Ultimate Trails (I kid you not, a large painful crack up my heel that I stuck together with rock tape at the start had vanished by the end - love you Hokas) Sue on the other hand spent the week with her feet in a bowl of antiseptic to blast the blisters and with her feet up on a box at work to try and fix a swollen ankle. She finally went to the docs on Friday evening to be told her foot was too swollen to be x-rayed (!?) and that as there was no diagnosis the doctor wasn't prepared to tell her not to run ... Game on! Mentally I was unprepared I'd been so focused on the 100km that this was beyond my capacity for thought so it was a good job we weren't alone, for this we were joined by friends from our weekly HIIT (high impact interval training) class and we were dressed as Wonderwomen and Banana Men ...
Clean and nervous at the start
So that got me thinking what was I doing and why? Andy Mouncy in his new project "cracking the spine" says "impossible is just a made up word grown-ups use when they think they [kids] can't" I love this statement but think it might be applicable to some grown ups too (it's the proper grown ups you have to watch) and yesterday each of us in the team faced something that was in the morning impossible - be that climbing an 8 ft wall, diving through a murky river under barrels, (tip opening your eyes won't help you see but will cause silt, grit and mud to stick to your eyeball causing pain, this will stop you from being worried about the dam barrels) Crawling under barbed wire through sticky smelly mud, sliding head fist down a hill on a soapy plastic sheet - what ever your impossible it was all there! So by mid-afternoon so many impossibles were in truth possible.
So I've still not really answered what happened in the last 12 months? where does the boundary between possible and impossible actually lie? ... so a small scientific research project for a Sunday evening to test the hypothesis suggested by Andy.
I'm going to consider three "impossible" events ...
- Me being first lady in the L100 (just writing this makes me laugh out loud in an empty house making the dog jump)
- The dog learning to run sensibly beside me during the first 10 miles of a run (laughing again)
- A child of mine going to space
So what I think this shows is that impossible is a concept that doesn't fully exist - to do or not do things is a choice you make (and it is fine to make) and that is not the same as it being impossible. As for what I was doing there in the first place, it is disappointing to find in my 30's that my hunger for a quiet, sensible life on the edge of the Lake District is diminishing not increasing, my appetite for adventure and new experiences grows with each passing year, my need to answer questions about my own capabilities - (how far can I run - how fast can I run - how high can I climb - can I ride a bike - can I swim across a lake) - drive me to grab at all the opportunities I can, mid-life crisis I hear you shout ... yes probably buy hey I'm having a blast so I couldn't care less.
And so, only a week after 100km, ignoring all sensible advice about recovery after an ultra Sue and I along with an amazing group of women and our two banana men stood on the finish podium, we had had several hours of fun, all our families and kids had been almost every step of the course with us, cheering us on and revelling in our success (my kids had also blagged them selves a go on some of the obstacles once the competitors were all through - look out Gaynor P, baking Daizy wants you to design a mini version?!) Would I do it again ... no it's not my sort of thing!!! ;)
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