Trotting down the Thames

I'd had the cold for a few days, the sore throat was almost gone, by Saturday morning I was just left with a thick head and a runny nose, and on the principle that symptoms above the neck can't harm you I decided to go. So at 5am Jan and I scrape the ice from the car, throw the bags in the back and drive down the foggy motorways to Oxford, finding the Prince of Wales pub at Iffley, the start of the "Thames Trot" race at just after eight o'clock. Inside the pub it's a melee of  lycra clad runners, cosily dressed supporters, coffee, bacon butties, and general friendly noise. The scheduled eight thirty start will be a bit delayed we're told, a few runners still to be ferried in from the station, but only by ten minutes. A few minutes to relax, get some coffee, leave Jan to have breakfast, she's driving on down to daughter Julia's in Reading and they'll meet me at the finish we hope, then we get the word and it's out into the cold of the car park for the briefing. "Not much to say guys, it's a bit muddy, you'll probably get wet up to the ankles but there's no flooding, have a good run", then the hooter sounds and a hundred and forty of us shuffle off down the lane to Iffley Lock and the river.

The Thames Path is a waymarked long distance trail, following (mostly) the banks of the river for 180 miles from Kemble in Gloucestershire to the Thames Barrier at Woolwich, and the race covers the 50 mile section from Oxford to Henley. This is its second year, last year the course was snow covered but today we have standard BBC "grey cloud" as the mist at the river edge blends seamlessly into the sky with temperatures just about positive. I don't want to aggravate my cold so I decide to take it very gently at first and settle down in the second half of the field with a group doing about 10 minute miles. I've never run a flat ultra before, so I've decided to walk for 5 minutes in every 45 to use some different muscles; as it turns out the course isn't completely flat, and the ground underfoot and natural obstacles mean that progress is nowhere near as uniform as on a solid surface so the tactic is probably not necessary, however I find that I enjoy the breaks so I might do it again. The first twenty miles are muddy paths through fields by the river. I somehow didn't expect so much mud. I would be better in trail shoes but that isn't what I've brought so no use worrying about it now. This isn't quite Rotherham calibre mud but it does stick, and the build up makes everyone's shoes progressively heavier. At Rotherham I always carry a blunt dinner knife to deal with it, but today I have to look for occasional "de-clodding" aids in the shape of gates, fences or tree roots - and being well down the field most of the good ones have been used already!

But I'm making steady progress, two checkpoints pass, we go through occasional villages with opportunities to get lost, I chat with various people as I catch up with them as you do in these events. I meet a guy who's entered the Lakeland 100, I say I'll see him there.  Time passes and  I see fewer runners as the field starts to spread out. After twenty miles or so the trail seems to leave the river but I can see a runner ahead in the distance and I follow. A mile or so later I catch up, it's a young lady now slowing up to check where she is; we look at the map and decide the turning back to river must be just a few  dozen yards further on and so it is. She recognises my West Highland Way buff and it turns out she's Carrie who has entered the WHW for the first time this year, come down from Scotland to do this race. I don't know what she makes of this geriatric with the streaming eyes and snotty nose, but we carry on together for a while. Then I have one of those patches when everything seems to go right, we've just passed half way, we hit some firm grassy fields with no mud, and I feel great; I can go faster so I say to Carrie I'll see her when she catches me up later and press on ahead. I feel so good that I pay insufficient attention to the route, an apparent fence barrier forces me rightwards, I follow a long track and end up on a road with no Thames Path signs, I follow my nose left along the road but still no signs so I stop to admit I must be wrong - and as three other runners including Carrie have followed me they soon catch up. We get out the map and find we can rejoin the route just about at the 27 mile checkpoint - my little detour will have added about a half a mile on to our day's activity. 

When we run into the checkpoint I have two surprises; first, Jan and Julia have turned up there to give me some encouragement, and second they don't seem at all concerned by the direction we have come in from - we've seen runners come into here from at least three directions, they say - the marshal is unperturbed, he seems to think it's pretty normal. I pick some sausage rolls and fruitcake - the food on this event is rather good, and tell the ladies I'll see them at the finish, assuming that you can find it, adds the marshal as I jog off. 

This is at Goring, and from here the trail starts to get much more interesting. First there are hills that crowd the river, forcing the trail to gain height and go over some undulations, maybe a hundred feet or so but a welcome change from the flatlands, then a final up and a lovely long downhill into Pangbourne, over the bridge and back to the river bank, now through meadows with Saturday afternoon walkers as the sun finally starts to shine. Long views ahead now, and my slow start is paying off, I start to pass people, but each one takes a while, I see them ahead way in the distance, they get oh so slowly closer until I can catch and eventually pass them. Another checkpoint comes up, 36 miles, the distance being reeled in. Apart from a raw throat from having breathed in so much cold air I still feel good, I'm prepared to get tired now so I push on a bit harder. I'm still walking every 45 minutes but getting back to near 10 minute miles in between. All through the Reading area it's a good surfaced track; I thought this would be hard on the feet at this stage but it's welcome after all the mud early on though it's a weird place to be running an ultra, mud spattered runners passing the smartly dressed dog walkers in an urban park. Then the city disappears and the final checkpoint comes up at Sonning, just 6 miles to go.

I remember the banana milkshake I've been carrying for over 40 miles and it goes down a treat, a quick phone call to the ladies to say I'm on the last lap, and on we go. I catch another runner, the only one I can see, we chat a bit, decide we'll probably both make it to the end faster together than either of us will alone, and for the first time start to think about the time. Nine hours looks comfortable now I say, eight and a half might just be on says my companion, and in the way it happens when you run together and with a purpose, gradually the speed inches up. A few more muddy bits lest we forget what went before, a couple of country lanes, some fields, it's hurting now but it doesn't matter this late in the day, two long boardwalk bridges and we're on to the final hard towpath with the buildings of Henley in view. We wonder where the finish is, can see the church a few hundred yards away, can't be any further than that, then suddenly there it is, the white flags barely a hundred yards away across the park on our left. I glance at my watch, 8 hours 27, it's going to be OK, could crawl home in 3 minutes from here. 8-28-17 is the final judgement, 38th place, done.

The girl at the finish is asking me my tee-shirt size but I'm concentrating so hard on the coffee and fruitcake on the same table that she has to ask three times before it registers. The food on this trip really has been good. In fact all round it's been a really well-organised event. Jan and Julia are waiting, and I get the ecstasy of inactivity curled up in the back of the car on the way to Reading, before a long shower and a long-anticipated visit to the Italian restaurant. First ultra of 2010, great day out, I'm looking forward to the rest of the year!

I found out later that Carrie finished as second-placed lady  -  well done!!

A bit of a Plan and No Big Deal

Other than to put in around 1000 miles before the West Highland Way Race at the end of June (and I only chose that figure because it seemed to be what everyone else was doing) I've never had much of a training plan. I just used to go out and have a run somewhere nice a few times a week. Last year I was trying to get around the UTMB so I started going out in the hills more often and I think this paid off, though it still didn't get me around the course! I also knew that the "time on your feet" thing was important so I've always tried to do a few long training runs as well as the races, culminating in a 60-70 miler in May, but the logistics is always difficult for these unless you know where you can resupply, and I always seem to end up carrying too much stuff for changes of weather and so on.  I discovered last year that I had a lot of difficulty going beyond 25 hours or so, and I really needed to practice keeping going longer if I was to have a chance of finishing the longer ultras.  Finally, this year apart from one marathon which is really just a bit of exercise during a long weekend holiday, I'm only going to run ultra races - and I run those very slowly! These thoughts came together into a bit of a Plan, so here's my philosophy for what it's worth:

1. I was fit enough last year, my recovery after every race was pretty rapid, so I don't need to do more miles, in fact I'll probably do slightly less than last year, and not get hung up on "getting the miles in".

2. I'll do a run of 7-8 miles in my local forest once a week. This is on good tracks and the nearest I get to a tempo run, as I really don't like running on roads.

3. I'll go out in the hills once a week, starting with two or three hours and around 3000ft of ascent, building up to double this by April/May. I normally walk the ups and jog the downs, somewhere between 3 and 4mph average.

4. A longer run around 12 miles, building up to 16/18 on one of the local trails once a week, nice and steady.

5. An easy run of 4 or 5 miles in between times, but only if I feel like it on the day.

6. For runs longer than this I'm going to do races, roughly one a month, much easier logistically than training runs and much more fun. 50 milers for the first few months, then 100's.  Some of these I will try to take very easily indeed, just to get used to the "time on your feet" necessary to complete the longer ones.

That's the physical plan, but as everyone in our game will tell you, that's only the half of it. A couple of days ago I watched the video of the West Highland Way "Training and Inspirational Evening" which was held last week in Edinburgh (you can see it on the WHWR website if you haven't already). One impressive contributor was Dave Wallace who won the race several times in its early years; when asked whether standing at the start, he ever had any doubts as to whether he would finish, his answer was "No, I always knew I would finish, and that I would be placed." In a similar vein, I think it was Michael Johnson, contributing to the BBC commentary team on one of the major athletic championships who said "In a track final there will be four guys who think they might win, two guys who think they will win, and two guys who know they will win - and the winner will be one of these last two."

To work for me, this declaration of confidence comes down to a concept which I think of as "No Big Deal". To run a half marathon, 10 miles must feel like no big deal, you can run it any day you choose. For a marathon, the no big deal distance is 16 miles - if you're comfortable over 16, the marathon will be OK. I can run a marathon. I've run a dozen in races, but I've covered the distance many more times than that. For me a marathon itself is no big deal; this doesn't mean I can always (or ever!) run a marathon in a good time, but however I'm feeling, I believe deep down that I will always get through those miles if it gets me to the finish. It's the feeling that gets you from Kingshouse to Fort William when you've already covered over 70 miles, less than a marathon, I can do that. I know a lot of people who will say divide a big race up into little bits, just think about the next 10 miles, 5 miles, 2 miles, whatever, but for me you can't beat the feeling of being within your "no big deal" distance of the end of the race. So my target in doing a lot more events this year is to get my confidence to the next level - "50 miles - no big deal".

I'll let you know around September whether I've made it!

A Long Run and Longer Runs

Three posts in ten days, it won't last, but it does seem to go easier the more you do.

Anyway, the Cheshire Sandstone Trail is a waymarked footpath running from Frodsham on the Mersey estuary in the north of the county to Whitchurch just over the Shropshire border in the south.  It follows the line of an intermittent sandstone ridge with interesting running and great views a lot of the way; there are agricultural sections linking up the hill and forest trails and during the winter months these have their fair share of the sort of ankle-deep pungent slop that makes you unpopular if you bring it home with you, so over the years I've found ways around the worst bits to give a route of 34 miles in total. It wanders up and down between sea level and around 750ft; my Garmin makes the total ascent nearly 4000 feet but I think there's a fair bit of cumulative error on the flatter bits here and there, so I guess it's probably nearer 3000, still hilly enough to make you work at times. It's a good local "one way" outing for me, with a train to the start and a bus back from the finish - much more appealing than a long out-and-back trip - and I get it done a couple of times a year at least, but usually not before the middle of February.

But there's a 50 miler coming up in a couple of weeks and I need to see if I can get the trip, so I'm out at Frodsham at 8 o'clock last Friday morning.  There are no natural water sources along the route and the two cafe/tea huts are not open midweek in the winter, so I waddle off from the station with a bag full of drink, Mars bars, waterproofs, and a dry shirt for the bus trip back. We've lost the clear, crisp weather of the past few weeks, it's grey and drizzles on and off but not bad for running. I take the uphills slowly at first to save some energy, conscious that this is the first time over twenty miles for several months, but get more confidence by halfway, and by the time I reach the final 3 or 4 miles along the canal towpath to the finish I'm still going quite strongly.  6 hours 42 minutes, about 10 minutes slower than February last year but the conditions are never the same twice, good enough. I'm a bit stiff getting off the bus but a shower seems to put that right and we've old college friends arriving for the weekend soon after I get home so an easy time with plenty of calorie replacement opportunities on Saturday is assured.  Sunday I get out for 5 cruisy miles to complete the experience and feel pretty good about it. Maybe this year's starting OK after all.

But then I decide to catch up with the West Highland Way Forum  and its various blogs, which I do every 2 or 3 days or so. I'm staggered by the amount of activity going on, which brings me sharply back to reality. JK and friends have done the same distance as me but along the tougher WHW, after a week's mileage which I would already find more than enough at this time of year. The Subversive Runner, after explaining for some weeks on his blog that he doesn't actually do any running to speak of at present, seems to have clocked off from his shift at work and already completed half of a 40 miler. And best of all, George (Loon Dod, blog on right) has just run the whole length of the WHW from Fort William to Milngavie in 27 hours, in snow, ice, and a lot of darkness. Too good guys, too good, looks like you have a great year ahead!

Still Crazy (after all these years?)

So what about 2010?

A couple of years ago I exchanged some emails with John K on something or other, and I remember adding that I admired the way he was so open about his plans and targets on his blog, how I was sure I couldn't do that, too nervous, needed to keep my cards closer, that sort of thing. Well time makes a difference, you get into it this blogging business, so here I am about to come clean on my intentions for the year. My first proper ultra was the 2007 Fling so I'm three years down the road and can't really call myself a beginner any more; I know what it feels like now, the ups and downs, the pain and the joy, the pool of the headtorch and the dawn of day, the heat, the rain and the mud, the euphoric completions and the soul-destroying DNF's, the characters you meet along the way. Time to move on, expand a bit, stop gearing the effort to just a few main events, all your eggs in one basket so to speak, and go for a long season of continual interest. I won't get great times in all my races this year, maybe not in any of them, but I guess that's not so much the point for me now, PB's are going to get rarer, passage of time and all that. I'm just going to take in and savour every drop of the experiences this year promises. So with a deep breath, here goes:

February (6th): The Thames Trot. 50 miles along the riverbank from Oxford to Henley. Never covered any of the ground before, really looking forward to starting the year so early but still a bit apprehensive whether I'm fit enough yet - let's assume it's going to be OK. Daughter Julia lives near the finish, an added bonus.

March (7th): Barcelona Marathon. Well, it's a long weekend break with Jan really, but while you're there it seems a pity not to.....

March (20th): The Hardmoors 55. A new race, 55 miles over the first half of the Cleveland way. Again, I won't know the course until I turn up on the day.

April (24th): The Highland Fling. 53 miles along the southern half of the West Highland Way. Where it all started for me, this will be my fourth time, wouldn't miss it.

May (30th): The Heart of Scotland 100. Not a race but a 100 mile event through the eastern highlands organised by the Long Distance Walking Association. More new ground but I hope to recce a bit of it while we're on holiday in Kinloch Rannoch the week before.

June (18th): The West Highland Way Race. 95 miles of class, de rigueur absolutely. Completion would give me my fourth crystal goblet, almost enough for a dinner party. 24 hours would be nice (missed by 44 minutes last year) so I'll give this one my best shot.

July (23rd): The Lakeland 100. A hundred mile circumnavigation of the Lake District. I've recc'ed this one, it's going to be tough, but it visits some beautiful country.

August (28th): The TDS (or maybe the SDT now the direction has been reversed) - "Sur les Traces des Ducs de Savoie", 66 miles and a lot of up from Courmayeur to Chamonix. I was unlucky in the ballot for a UTMB place this year but couldn't miss out on the show in Chamonix so transferred to this one. This will be new territory for me too, a bit different from the UTMB where I have covered all of the course at least twice (and some of it four times). But it also comes with a guaranteed entry into the UTMB in 2011 so I'll be back!

October (16th): The Rotherham Round. 50 miles around Rotherham, I've done it twice but missed 2009 when the date change from December to October caused a clash I couldn't manage. For me another "must do" event, for the continually interesting course and the great people of South Yorkshire who make it happen, from the early morning briefing "Ignore the weather forecast lads, it's going to be a lovely day" (it rained from start to finish) to the warm welcome at all the checkpoints "You're going well lad, now get some snap down you, mud's coming up soon".

The list has been building up on my calendar for a few months now, sort of sneaking up on me a bit at a time, and it's made me think twice, writing it all down. Too ambitious? 8 ultras and a marathon, against 5 ultras and 2 marathons last year........what the hell, nothing ventured as they say, may not be able to do this stuff in a few years' time. And I've still got a gap or two in September and November/December, and family affairs like the Great North Run will still get done, and it's always nice to do another marathon in the autumn. And a ski tour and a couple of climbing trips to fit in. And the kitchen extension will get completed this year......... can't imagine how I used to find time for work.

So there it is, written down, no escape now. See you at the races.

The Good News and the Bad News

Well what a start to 2010.

In the cloudless, windless days early in the month in spite of the ice underfoot I couldn't resist one of my favourite winter runs. Out from home, a long, long cycle track, eventually meeting the Dee, then back along  the river bank to Chester and  home along the canal towpath to my village. 24 miles, all but a few hundred yards off road, and flat (mountains can come later!). Cautious because of the ice but still brilliant because of the weather, slow and steady. Then even Chester got its few inches of snow, carpeting the local forest trails and making for wonderfully cushioned, silent running through the trees. Before the year was 10 days old I was in Zermatt, where cloud and falling snow were promised but after a day this turned to clear blue skies, keen dry temperatures, and eighteen inches of near perfect powder if you knew where to look.

The first half of January has been magical. But there is always a but......

The tail end of the festive season then far too much rosti and gluwein has left me around 10 pounds heavier than I ought to be, and while the running so far has been great fun it has been far from testing. A sharp 8 miler this evening on the first dry roads since mid December was hard, I've a bit of work to do. And this in a year where I decided to open the campaign early with the 50 mile Thames Trot in the first week of February. So three weeks to get into shape, just get out there and put in a few miles, maybe it will be OK.
More of the other plans for the year next time.

2009 and all that

We're at the time when seasoned bloggers do their review of the year, and although I'm still a beginner having only started in July I didn't feel that I could escape the deal. I wondered if it wasn't really my thing because the year is already fading from my near consciousness and I'm thinking more about what is to come than what has been, but I found deliberately looking back triggered a lot of memories and overall it's been a more enjoyable task than I was expecting.

First, the blog. I've no idea how many people read these ramblings but I've enjoyed writing it and I'm sure it's been good for me to try to crystallise my random thoughts from time to time, and it gives me something to look back on if nothing else. I'll carry on for another year at least, to get in a full calendar season and try to get some overall perspective. Same pattern as this year, not many blow-by-blow accounts of training sessions, just events or days out that I've found good experiences and occasional other stuff that interests me.

Next, the people. I have already met a lot of amazing characters since taking up this rather questionable sport three years ago, but this year has been especially rich in new acquaintances and getting to know people I only half knew, or those I had only met in the ether. But of course we lost Dario; I neither knew him as well nor could I write of him as eloquently as his close friends have, but he always talked warmly and at length with me and my family whenever we saw him, and he was instrumental in getting me into this game in the first place for which I will always be grateful. I'll think of him whenever I set foot on the West Highland Way.

Now I suppose the running. I set my sights on 9 races this year ranging from half marathon distance to a hundred miles plus, starting in March with the Wuthering Hike and finishing in December at the Rotherham Round, but the latter was moved to a date in October I couldn't make so I ended up running just 8. I chose them not for any rational athletic reasons but because I thought, or in some cases already knew, that they would be good days out. The year started well in Haworth where I knocked just over 4 minutes off my best time for the Wuthering Hike - not a lot in a hilly 32 miles but good enough to let the senior citzen know that he hasn't become completely decrepit since last year. The next two races were in pure performance terms the best of the year for me. I started the Rotterdam Marathon with the intention of just enjoying the day; in perfect running conditions I looked at my watch just twice, once at half way and once at 10k to go, finishing in a "where did that come from?" time of 3 hours 17 minutes, faster than my previous best by over 7 minutes. I have to be honest at my age I don't expect to beat or even come near this ever again. In the Highland Fling in April I set myself a challenging (for me) target of 10 hours 36 minutes (ie 5 miles an hour average) and came home in 10-23. My warm glow at the finish was only slightly tempered by not winning the over 60's class in spite of beating the previous record by over three quarters of an hour  -  reality is always there to put you back in your place when you get too full of yourself! Again, I don't expect to beat this time in the future.

The West Highland Way came next, and although 24-44 beat my previous best by nearly two hours I was still a bit disappointed not to get in just under the 24. I think I can still improve here though, I'm convinced that in the longer races a bit of experience (or is it just low cunning) can pay off. The Devil o'the Highlands was great for me for three reasons; it's a wonderful fast course (the WHW without the messy bits), it was good to join the "triple crown" band (runners who have completed the Fling, Devil, and WHW in the same year), and my time of 7-39 felt very comfortable as I was running conservatively in view of the upcoming UTMB. I think I could knock a chunk off this, but the need to find a support crew and to commit to the race so early the previous year because of its popularity probably means I won't run it again for a while. As in previous years my next race the UTMB was a real disappointment, the big one got away again when I dropped out about two thirds of the way round. It remains the only ultra where I have recorded a "Did Not Finish" (three times!) but I'll be back again in 2010 if I can get a place in the ballot.

My final two races were family affairs. We always go to the Great North Run in Newcastle, and after a summer of running slowly up and down hills my time of nearly 1-37 was certainly not sparkling (barely a minute faster than my second half split in the Rotterdam Marathon earlier in the year) but it was fun. So was running the Amsterdam Marathon a month later where I finished in 3-51. The move of the Rotherham Round was really a shame for me, this 50 mile feast of mud, rain and darkness in December had been a highlight of the two previous years, so after Amsterdam in mid October the events were done, and I spent the rest of the year just ticking over and scoping some potential events for next year.

I've just read John K's blog on his own review of the year and while I'm nowhere near as organised I found some of the statistics fascinating, so I've trawled through my diary to find a few of my own. In the year I ran a total of 2207 miles, probably more than I need to and I'll aim for no more than 2000 next year, but it's how they are built up that's interesting. John ran 2326 miles, but only ran over 20 miles on 15 occasions including races, whereas I ran over 20 miles 28 times, including 11 times over 30 miles. Now JK's a far and away better runner than me, but his figures seem to show that you can produce some pretty good ultra performances without doing too many long runs. On the flip side, I like long days out in the hills, they seem more like fun than training, and I have the time to indulge myself, so come the longer daylight I expect I'll be out there doing just the same next year!

But these are just figures. The events are rewarding experiences and they give us focus, but there was much, much more to 2009 than that. I have a hundred memories that I will treasure; of surprising the same pair of walkers three times on Snowdon on the same day, of the fiery furnace that was the Nantlle Ridge in early summer (yes, Wales!), of clattering down Steel Fell at a speed I thought was now beyond me with a companion who I had met a few short hours earlier, of the hundreds of people who gathered to wish Dario farewell, of the Anglesey coast path on a calm clear early morning, of meeting the dawn on the Col de la Seigne, of discovering parts of the Lake District I never knew existed, of my son's elation as we crossed the finishing line together in Amsterdam, and of running on the near-deserted roads two evenings before Christmas, snowflakes falling gently through the glow of the streetlights, my feet silently making the only marks on the shallow fresh carpet beneath, content.

Yes, a good enough year. But of course, next year will be better.....

Running's OK

I went for a run yesterday morning; 5 miles, flat, no great scenery, a gloomy day with gentle drizzle, nine and a half minutes a mile. It was great.

They say that Ron Hill has run every day for 50 years or so; I don't know how he does it. I had been getting out regularly but the niggles that come with years and miles were getting at me. Nothing show-stopping, just an ache here, a pain there, a bit of stiffness, the first trip downstairs in the morning getting harder. Come on, you're just being a wimp, get on with it. Then three Sundays ago I was out for 20 miles on one of my local trails on a day of continuous rain following several days of continuous rain, you remember how it was then for most of the country. I finished with mud up to the knees, every square centimeter of clothing soaked, hurting all over. I had to sit and shiver in the car for ten minutes to warm up before driving the the five miles home. I oozed out and into a hot bath for a soak and a think. I can't do this, I need a rest.

I decided to have two weeks off, something I haven't done for over two years. The relief at not having to go out again in the rain was wonderful. But it's amazing how the memory fades, after a week I was itching to get running. No, I told myself, two weeks was the deal, stick to it. It wasn't too difficult in the second week, I had to have a tooth out, a couple of days later the first Christmas Lunch of the season with a bunch of old work colleagues, plenty of wine and banter, none of this condusive to running. Then yesterday I had to have the car serviced, 120,000 miles in just four years, where does it all go? So I drove down to the garage and ran back, a mile and a half on suburban roads, three and a half on canal towpath, not a route I would normally choose.

It was fine. Enthusiasm has returned. But rather gently back to more miles I think, I'll go with Keith the Aussie's words - "I'd rather turn up under-trained than over-injured."