It's been a good year for running. Here's a quick review of the highlights
2011/12 cross-country season: 42nd place overall men and 12th in the veteran league.
The John Austin half marathon in Brockenhurst - 6th place overall, 1st M40 and 1st age-weighted score (72.5%) - I think this was my best race of the year.
The Grizzly in Devon - my fifth race, finishing in 37th place... an immense experience as always.
The Herts Stroller- my first ultra run, very successfully teaching me that I'm not well suited to ultra running.
The Jungfrau marathon in Switzerland - breathtaking, exhausting, debilitating and majestic... I'll be back in 2022.
The Hursley 10k - a cracking race - my best performances this year have been in the rain
The Clarendon marathon - another perennial favourite, and I managed to hang on to 5th place.
2013 goals... improve my parkrun times for speedwork and get better at hills... I reckon I can improve by a few places in the Grizzly. First priority - get a good result in the 2012/13 cross-country league.
A belated report on the third in the cross-country series.
Popham airfield is probably my least favourite venue on the current league circuit. It's essentially three-and-a-half times around a big field, and as such not a million miles away from enforced circuits around the school playing field. There are long uphill drags, and it's hard going -- much more fun to be rushing through trees and navigating roots and twisty turns.
Having said that, I quite enjoyed it! I felt my pacing was good and I kept overtaking people throughout the 10k route. It was fun watching the small planes taking off and landing. There was just one technical bit with a steep slippery slope and I stumbled badly on the first lap... until someone gently pushed me up over the top. I thanked him a few seconds later. 'I was just hanging on' he demurred... but it was very welcome... thank you, mystery pusher.
I picked up my number tab at the end reasonably hopeful that I had broken 80th place. Oh dear - I was 100th! I was 111th in 2011, which was consolation of sorts, but with an extra small lap added this year I couldn't directly compare times.
I went mad and splashed out on a photo of my Jungfrau marathon finish at Kleine Scheidegg.. Here it is:
Despite Sue's insistence that I'm doing a cheesy double thumbs-up sign, in an embarrassing dad dancing kind of way, I'm not... it's a triumphant victory gesture slightly undone by sheer ragged exhaustion.
There were other photos available which showed more of the snowy mountain peaks in the background, but they really were too gruesome and scary.
I ran the second of the Hampshire cross-country league on Saturday. The weather was overcast and mild, with the going soft underfoot after some rain the night before. We (Sue, the boys and I) arrived in the nick of time to check the course map and get straight to the start.
These cross-country races are quite different to other events. The standard is very high and the competition is fearsome. We set of with an immense pounding of feet on the earth and very soon the leaders were stretched out in front. After a short lap of the field at the top of the hill there are two long laps through the forest, with muddy ruts, tricky cambers, steep slopes and long drags. Here's a brief clip of that initial lap, including commentary from Sue and Lynne:
By the second lap I was running at the same pace as a few others, with very little overtaking. I could see someone about 50m ahead who looked from behind like a girl, in fact suspiciously like Rebekah Brooks. surely I could overtake him/her? I had nothing left at the finish and the former tabloid editor cruised in well ahead. Here's the video.
I was 83rd out of 227 runners, up from 109th in 2011, and pleasingly nearly a minute faster. Next up, Popham airfield on 1 December.
At work there was another opportunity to get some health checks done. After getting some fluctuating results earlier in the year, I was curious to see what the data would show today.
At this point I'm confused, and a little bit suspicious. How can the readings be fluctuating so wildly, particularly the cholesterol? The nurse today said that readings can vary and that lab tests are needed for anything definitive.
I'm taking the data with a pinch of salt, and never mind the attendant risk of raised blood pressure.
On Saturday I ran the first of this winter's Hampshire county cross-country league at Farley Mount near Winchester.
The course here is four laps (bad, in my book) but it's quite technical, with lots of roots and switchback bends, plus a lot of slippery terrain and interesting cambers (all good!).
I had an awful start, positioned too far back, and spent at least half a lap stuck in bottlenecks and trying to get past others. Once we'd thinned out though, it was perfect - I just kept picking off the runner ahead. The 4 laps (just under 10k) went by quickly in sunny conditions and I finished in 78th place, up from 106th at the same event last year. A good start to the season!
End of lap 1, avoiding the nose-blower...
...and the chase to the finish, everyone working hard
It struck me this week that I've now run 11 marathons. My first thought was - is that all, over nearly 20 years? But on reflection, my staple longer-distance event until around 2008 was the half-marathon and I've run a lot of those. I've also done several Grizzlies (approx) 20 miles, and 2 >26 mile events, i.e. the Dorset Doddle (31) and the Herts Stroller (52).
I thought it would be an interesting exercise to collate all the
historic marathon data I could find into one place. There are some
gaps, and I will keep trying to fill these.
It's not a terribly valuable dataset the ability to compare like with like and draw conclusions is a bit limited. You just can't compare times or positions between my three routes to date.
London - I've had a good innings here, driving down to within 2 min 48 seconds of elite qualification. For a while I was fired up about taking this further, but I've since lost desire to pound the streets in a relentless search for speed in a flat, urban setting.
Jungfrau - This year I kept to within 5 minutes of my 2002 time which I guess is respectable but still a bit frustrating. More on this topic here.
Clarendon - It's hard to draw much from the times because so much depends on the conditions underfoot on this cross-country course, and that's precisely why I enjoy it so much. I had a dreadful time in 2010 (see this post), but that was only five minutes off my best-ever marathon position in 2008.
Clarendon is one of my very favourite races. An ancient route, fabulous scenery, a challenging mix of terrain and trail types, efficient and friendly marshalling - what's not to like?
There were around 400 starters from Wyvern College in Salisbury. I set off in about 10th place at a fairly brisk pace. I was a bit unnerved to do the first km in 3:43 - that's way too fast to be sustainable. Having run the Jungfrau 4 weeks again certainly helped mentally. The chalk downland hills were small by comparison and I took them on quite happily. The cumulative climb for the race was 677 metres, less than a third of the climb 4 weeks ago.
Approaching Broughton and the half-way point
Through Broughton at halfway and I could feel it in my legs. Past King's Somborne and it gets more challenging, with more significant climbs emerging just as weariness starts to bite. I kept taking the gels (having learned my lesson in 2010) and kept the pressure on, feeling good.
Emerging from the woods at Farley Mount - about 4 miles to go
A marathon is a game of two halves - the first 20 miles and the last 6. I could feel myself working harder to keep going, and it became increasingly difficult to stay upright on some technical sections of track with mud and roots everywhere. It also became a bit lonely, with long stretches with on one else in sight. Occasionally I would hear a pounding of closing footsteps behind me, but relaxed when I saw it was a relay or half marathon runner.
The final section, with a relay runner in front
The finish came into view, I pushed but there wasn't much left. The clock said 3:13:42. I was chuffed - the pacing had been just right and moreover I had enjoyed all of it. I was very grateful to the support team (Sue and Lucas) for encouragement en route and at the end.
Here is the performance data and here are the results - 5th place, and 2nd M40... I was pipped (hmmm... by 5 minutes actually) to the oldie spot by a guy called Paul Rose, with whom I'd chatted on the way and whom I'd beaten in 2008 (me 3rd, Paul 5th). Come back next year Paul, and I'll catch you!
Today was the Hursley cross-country 10k event, an annual favourite which I think I've run every year since it started in 2007. It's a terrific combination of a lovely course and very enthusiastic and capable organisation. What makes it unusual is that it's essentially a glorified school PTA event... and you can certainly detect the IT literacy of the parent body in the sophisticated race website.
Last year, bright sunshine; this year, gathering gloom and increasingly steady rain. Was it wet enough to warrant trail shoes, after an essentially dry September? I reckoned it was, and thank goodness I did because for a good portion of the way it was very slippy going. The trail shoes made it tricky over the tarmac and concrete track sections near the beginning, but they were a necessity as the tracks became greasy and rutted.
Busy start...
This was one of those days when I felt strong and thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing. I got into fourth place by the third km and stayed there. Some more direct competition would have knocked a few more seconds off for sure, but it was a good race and I was very pleased with 38:30, two minutes faster than last year. In 2011 I had an almost fallow summer, resting a chronically sire left hip, and by comparison, the training of the last few weeks really showed today.
...lonely finish
Here are the results and here is the performance data. Next stop, Clarendon Marathon on 7th October.
On Sunday I ran the Jungfrau Marathon in Switzerland for the second time. The first time was in 2002 when I finished in 3:56 and I was hoping to match or beat that.
Here's the course...
The Jungfrau Marathon course
...and here's the profile
It was a fabulous day in Interlaken. Steve, Will, Ali and I met up in good time at the start.
Me, Steve, Ali and Will at the start
The atmosphere was humming. The competition was not your average diverse and assorted bunch of runners - the ladies and the over-50 men had run the day before, and there was a definite air of the assured marathon runner in the participants - very few 'have-a-go' entrants here.
The main valley, south of Lauterbrunnen
We started at 9am sharp. The route took us around Interlaken for a while and then north towards the mountains, but still very much in the valley. The route was almost flat for the first 10km and then reasonably gentle till km 25. The valley scenery in the morning light was breathtaking. I kept at a steady pace of 4:15 to 4:30 per km.
From Lauterbrunnen everything changed. You suddenly find yourself at the base of a monstrously steep slope which goes on and on up hairpin bends. Forget running - this required a steady walk, pushing my hands on to my thighs, panting madly.
On the hairpin bends, looking down to Lauterbrunnen
From then on it was a more moderate slope up through Wengen and beyond. I knew that the finish was well above the tree line and so it was a little daunting to stare up at the mass of forest above.
I felt strong, and was becoming increasingly confident of coming in ahead of 3:56. I passed the 34.5k marker at 3 hours. 8km in 55 minutes? Easy, surely!?
First proper mountain view, beyond Wengen
When the tough gets going...
Ah, if only. At some point after 38.5k the gradient steepened and the terrain became infinitely more difficult, with roots and rocks everywhere. I gasped, I staggered, and then started to see the final ascent coming into view. I had to fight harder and harder to keep the pace going and less and less able to marvel the mind-blowing scenery as we climbed onto the spine of a huge coll. There were bagpipers and Alpine hornblowers but I couldn't really pay attention. At one point I felt very lightheaded and almost tripped down the rocky slope.
...even the tough are reduced to a walk
And the suddenly I reached a pass and was over the peak and into descent. More woozy lightheadedness, jagged rocks everywhere and I thought I was going to fall - but instead managed to career downwards. There was still almost a km left to go and the anticipation was unbearable as I went past a lake and then flat-out downwards and downwards and over the finish line in 4:01:21. I found myself making awful groaning noises. I collapsed on the side and recorded an almost incoherent video clip (see below).
It was a good race - I felt the pacing went well and I gave everything I could. I really had forgotten since 2002 how tough that last bit was. I was a tiny bit disappointed at losing 5 minutes in the intervening decade. If there is a single cause it must be the lack of sustained hill training. Last time I ran the Dorset Doddle 3 weeks beforehand and I think that it must have helped a lot. This time, I think I was fit for the distance more than the climb.
The finish at Kleine Scheidegg
Enough introspection. I loved it. The scenery is just fabulous - this is nature at a vast scale and it doesn't get much better. It's humbling to be in such a magnificent setting and a real privilege to be able to run there.
Steve finishing, in a much better state than me
Here is the GPS/heartrate data. I forgot to press Stop when I finished so it's a little over the actual time but the charts tell the story. Interesting that although the net elevation gain is around 1600m, the actual gross ascent is 2200m. That's a long way up!
Here are the results for the 45-50 men's category. I'm there in 34th place.
Will (plus support), Steve and I with the Eiger behind
I took the little Ixus camera with me to take some snapshots en route, but I ended up with an improvised video diary. Some short clips follow:
1 - Great support through the town of Wengen
2 - One of the many fabulous brass bands
3 - Commentary at 34.5km, 3 hours in
4 - 38.5km commentary (just before the final steep ascent)
5 - Some barely-comprehensible commentary from me just seconds after the finish, looking utterly dreadful
6 - And finally, having recovered - a brief view of the mountain range
I last ran it in 2002. Unfortunately the results no longer seem to be on the web, At the time I recorded data at km intervals on a heart rate monitor, and I see that I finished in 3:56:22. The challenge this year is to go faster than I did a decade ago! Based on the 2011 results, my 2002 time would put me in 100th position.
How interesting... I had a routine NHS check-up yesterday (courtesy of recently turning 45). I also happened to take advantage of a check-up done at work on 2 July, exactly 8 weeks previously, and before I had really embarked on the current round of long-distance training.
These are quite marked differences, and which I can only attribute to training. The low diastolic blood pressure reading made the nurse sit up and ask questions; I need to go back at the end of the year (post autumn marathons) for a re-test to validate the running link. Looking at this chart, a diastolic reading of 48 is certainly in the low zone.
Am I on the right lines in my assumption that running has made the difference to my blood pressure and cholesterol levels?
Yesterday I did the Herts Stroller, a 53-mile event organised by the Long-Distance Walkers' Association. Sue, Lucas and I left home around 7:30am and arrived in Hitchen for a 10 o'clock start with around 30 others runners. The walkers had started at 9am.
I had absolutely no idea what to expect. I quickly found myself next to a guy called David who is an economist, a beekeeper and a DofE organiser. We chatted very happily for much of the first 20 miles or so over some spectacular landscapes until he started getting cramp and dropped off.
It was around this point that I started feeling weary, but unsurprisingly so as this was the limit of my training. In a marathon this would be the bit where you dig in and head for home in the comfort that it won't be for long. It's quite a different feeling when there are still 30+ miles ahead of you.
I felt myself getting slower - typically a 9 or 10 minute per mile pace - and the navigation started to get harder. My Garmin 205 gave me a grid reference and I had a set of marked-up map sheets so I couldn't go too far wrong, but as I got tired I was less alert in seeking out quite subtle footpath signs in heavily vegetated verges and green lanes, and several times I had to turn back, which was a tad demoralising.
It was fantastic to approach the checkpoints and seeing the support crew (did I mention Ted the Westie? He was in hyper licky mode) but I really struggled with the 'stop, eat stuff, refill your water bottle and carry on' arrangement, especially re-starting tired legs which had stopped for about 4 minutes. I'm far more used to doing start-run-finish. My system didn't think much of eating on the hoof and as time went on I could barely face eating at all.
Morning became afternoon and the afternoon became evening. I ran, I walked up hills, I stared at the map and cursed my lack of concentration when I went the wrong way. I lost sense of time and it got tough on my own. For a few minutes I ran with an Essex guy called Sean who is an accomplished ultra-runner, but he soon left me behind.
I arrived at Great Offley, the last intermediate checkpoint, at about 7.15 pm. The GPS said I'd done 52 miles, 4 over the theoretical course after all my pfaffing about. I wasn't feeling great, and my heart sank a bit when they said it was another 6 miles to the finish. That meant at least another hour's worth. Sue asked if I really wanted to go on. I wobbled for about 30 seconds because (a) quitting seemed an unappealing prospect and (b) I was looking forward to taking Ted with me on the last leg, but on the other hand (a0 there wasn't much light left in the day, (b) I was starting to go into decline, (c) GPS batteries were almost empty, (d) it would have been just me, no backup out there, (e) it had been a long long day for everyone and the clincher (f) I had run a double marathon and only 1 mile short of the published distance. It wasn't a hard decision.
Here are some photos of me in various states of deterioration.
Checkpoint 3 (17 miles):
Checkpoint 5 (31 miles):
Checkpoint 6 (38 miles):
Checkpoint 7 (44 miles):
...and the final approach to checkpoint 8 (52 miles):
I'm so glad that gnarly events like this take place. The LDWA are a slightly bonkers but utterly charming bunch, with food laid on at every checkpoint. The checkpoint people are open for hours and hours over the later to cater for the range of arrival times. The Great Offley checkpoint was going to stay open till 4am the next day. I'm in awe of the people who cheerfully set off for a 22-hour walk of an August weekend.
I enjoyed the day tremendously, although not all of it at the time. Some of it was more Type 2 fun. It was a rich experience. But it also taught me that ultra running is not really for me. I think the marathon distance is quite enough - this is something I can do without having to eat rice pudding, pork pies and marmite sandwiches on the way, and takes closer to 3 hours than 9. It means I can happily let go of vague notions of running the Bob Graham Round.
You ultra running people, I really do salute you. It's hard work.
Today I ran 20 miles. I spent yesterday afternoon feeling washed-out and wondering how I'd make it around another long one today. I felt stronger this morning but before I set off I was still feeling quite apprehensive.
I needn't have worried - it was a fabulous run. I felt good all the way round - so much so that I put in a little extension at the end to make it a round 20 miles. The highlight was running along the crest of Dean Hill. The weather today has been very mixed, with sun and some sharp showers, but I got fabulous views over Southampton and the New Forest to the South and chalk Hampshire/Wiltshire downland to the north.
So why was today so much better than yesterday? I didn't get that greyness, that cloud of numb weariness which dogged me for the last 30 minutes yesterday and for most of the day afterwards. I can only put it down to the fact that I set off at midday rather than 9am yesterday, and had eaten a decent breakfast first. A very useful bit of learning there.
Training this week will be a bit patchy - I have a long day in Plymouth tomorrow and then a 2-day jaunt to Manchester Wednesday and Thursday, so I'll have to grab time when I can. I'm very pleased though - this week I have run 64 miles - over 100k. It's going to get gentler over the next 2 weeks before the Herts Stroller on 11 August.
This weekend marks the zenith of my training before the Herts Stroller in 2 weeks. At 53 miles, this event is my longest by some way (my previous longest being the 31-mile Dorset Doddle which I did in 2002).
Today I did an 18-miler taking in Kimbridge, Braishfield, Slackstead, Ampfield, Romsey then home. The going was warm, with plenty of stinging nettles, brambles and still some boggy patches underfoot. I was wearing my road shoes which was probably the right choice but I was flailing like mad in Squabb Wood. I was drained at the end, and feeling a little bit apprehensive about the 20 miles I'm planning to do tomorrow. This will mean 64 miles running and 30 miles on the bike this week, which is really pleasing. I'm feeling well, and looking forward to the tapering phase before the Stroller (on 11 August)... i.e. sitting around more and stuffing myself with food.
For various reasons - mostly work and school governor commitments - this was only my second RR10 race this year. Janesmoor Pond is always soft underfoot, but after all of the rain that we've had over the previous 6 weeks it was a glorious mudfest.
This race was a bit of a wildcard for me because I had run in to work and back that day, a round trip of about 15 miles, and only had about 40 minutes at home before I had to put my wet trail shoes on again. I wasn't feeling too weary but I had used up a lot of energy as the Test Way was a real swamp and for long stretches of it every step was a contest of leg v mud.
I was a bit late getting to Janesmoor Pond and I had to trot down the hill to the start. I think I'd become fairly inured to the mud; others were delicately navigating the boggy bits and I got a couple of annoyed noises when I bimbled down, fairly careless of the mud and sending some splashes up. Get used to it, guys, I thought.
The race was a mixture of gravel track - reasonably firm underfoot - and unmade routes, which were anything but. I felt OK, although after 15 and then 20 minutes went by I was getting very confused by not recognising familiar ground - RR10 courses are almost always laps. In fact we did a snaky route which never retraced old steps. Once I'd figured this out I was mentally more sure, but I tired in the last 5 minutes and 3 runners overtook me on the slope up to the top. I was done for at the finish and lay gasping on the grass for a while... but I was absolutely chuffed to finish in 15th place, my best RR10 position for a couple of years.
Here are a couple of photos of the race:
Here I am chasing a Lordshill runner (and looking a bit scary)
Here's a retrospective report of the Clarendon Marathon 2010, a race which didn't go entirely to plan...
My legs were in a
fiery state, but that was to be expected.Twenty miles in to the Clarendon Marathon and I was tired, but going
well.I had set off at a brisk pace from
the start and I was confident of a good result.
In to Farleigh Wood,
and I started to find each step more of a n effort.No more than I expected; the last six miles
of a marathon is always the toughest, and on this route this particular wood is
a psychological low-point on the course, particularly as you are hemmed by trees
and the loop throws your sense of direction.I felt the energy in my body ebbing my the minute.By the time I saw Sue and Lucas at the usual
waving point (about 22 miles in) I was feeling pretty dreadful and I was
running a lot more more slowly.'I'm
struggling' I gasped as I passed.
From then on it
started to get weird.I started to feel
a buzzy tingling sensation over my body, most strongly in my hands and
arms.I started to shuffle.My legs just wouldn't lift properly offthe ground.By the time I reached 24 miles I really was in a state.Runners started to overtake me; some were
doing the relay and some the half marathon, which I didn't mind too much, but
it was galling to have marathon runners whom I'd passed ages before coming
breezing past me.
It became harder
and harder to keep going and the urge to stop became all-encompassing.'Keep running, just keep running', I urged
myself.The path hit an incline, and I
really wondered if I was going to fall over.I walked.It was the first time
I've walked – apart from when ascending very steep slopes – in nearly 20 years
of competitive racing.I felt
awful.But the brief respite did me some
good, the tingling subsided and I carried on.
I knew there
wasn't that far to go, but time and space felt suspended.I was aware of the buzzy tingling coming back
but all my senses started to close down.I plodded, my head down.Suddenly, it dawned on me that I was just a few metres from the finish
and I could hear crowds.I ran for the
finish as best as I could, was handed various bags of stuff at the finish line,
got clear of the marshalling area and wobbled into a heap on the grass.
Sue came to me,
all concern.I told her I was OK, but my
voice was thick and slurred, as if I was coming out of anaesthetic.I started eating a banana.Wow!It was absolutely the best banana I've ever had.Within seconds, my senses and speech started
returning.
So that was it;
my first proper marathon 'wall'.It was
such an achingly simple error – I was taking plenty of water but no food at all
during the race.The year before I had
swapped the carbo supplement in my Camelbak for electrolytes.Last year, I had eaten three sachets of gel on
the route; this year, nothing.I had
eaten well the day before and at breakfast, but in the end my body had simply
succumbed to the laws of physics, chemistry and biology.I had run out of fuel.My blood sugar was on the floor, my liver
stores were empty and there was nothing left.
It was a lesson very well
learned.I had hit the wall, for the
first and – I intend – for the last time.I had been doing twenty-mile training runs quite happily, but I've
learned that those last six miles need extra respect.
This is my first-ever blog post. Quite how it turns out we'll have to see, but I have two themes that I'd like to cover:
A race report, from a personal perspective
Training for more adventurous races.
We're talking running here, with a bias towards off-road and interesting landscapes. This year I'm planning to run the Herts Stroller, the Jungfrau Marathon and the Clarendon Marathon. The former is my first proper ultra run at 53 miles, and really is first test to decide whether I should even think about having a crack at the Bob Graham Round next year.
