How to train for the West Highland Way?

No this isn't a "this is what you do" sort of a ramble, much more along the lines of "what can I try next?" because although I've now done this particular event six times, I've come to the conclusion that I really have no idea what the best preparation for it might be.

The West Highland Way was my first "long" ultra, back in 2007. I didn't do it very well that year but I managed to finish, and in subsequent years I improved, albeit in fairly small steps, to my best time to date of 23 hours 34 minutes in 2010. Since then I've had two further finishes but both over the 26 hour mark. Disappointing, but on both those occasions I was thinking mainly of bigger races to come so I just turned up at Milngavie expecting a nice day out in a reasonable time without having to think too hard about it. But although there are for sure bigger, tougher races out there, 95 miles on foot is still something of an undertaking and I think I've paid the penalty for taking it a bit too lightly. So I've decided to give it the respect it deserves again and make it one of only two events that I will make my "targets" for the year. June 2013 will be three years since that PB, but I believe that if I can get it right I still ought to be able to achieve a "same day finish" (ie under 23 hours) before Father Time catches up with me. So that's the target nailed up, a bold enough step to start with, now, how to get there?

I looked back over my diaries to see what I had done over the meat of the WHW training period, ie from January to the start of the race, over the past five years:

I thought I might get some pointers from this, but each year looks very similar. I've never followed any sort of formal training plan, I've tended just to go out on outings that seemed attractive at the time, made sure I did a reasonable number of longer runs, and aimed to get to around a thousand miles in the bank by the start of the race. Last year I did some speed work earlier in the year, don't know whether it helped or not. Last year was also the only year I didn't do a spring road marathon. This was mainly because I got a bit bored with road running, but I suspect the discipline marathon training brings in running a fair amount of miles at a quicker pace than you normally go at in ultras actually sharpens you up for longer distances as well.

The two main conclusions I've been able to draw from looking back are (1) whatever I've done has consistently produced a reasonable time in the Highland Fling, and (2) I don't convert my Highland Fling times into good WHW times as well as many other runners do. I put forward an empirical model in a blog back in March 2011, derived from a lot of actual results from many runners, to predict how a runner might perform in one classic race based on his actual performance in another. Using this my Fling times over the past 3-4 years should put me in the 22.15 - 22.30 area for the WHW, yet my actual times have been nowhere near this, so what is going wrong?

Well, reading between the lines as they say, I suspect it has been a combination of two things. In my earlier runs on the WHW I was very poor at managing hydration, fuel, and electrolyte balance, all things that you can get away with being wrong for 10 hours but not for 24. I've learned the game much better on these now. Then for the past two or three years I have definitely been looking beyond the WHW at the Lakeland 100, the UTMB, the Tor des Geants, and so on. These are all races where above all you need an ability to keep climbing hills, your ability to keep running on the flat bits is of far less importance, so on reflection from around March-April  each year I've probably put too many hours into long days in the hills at a moderate pace (which I really enjoy) and not enough into running on trails. For what makes the WHW stand out from many of the other long classics is that it is very much a runner's race, not just for the guys at the sharp end (they run everything anyway) but for any average performer wanting a reasonable finish time. The ground is mostly easy underfoot, the climbs are modest and gentle, there is nothing to stop you running for most of the way. And yet I have never run a step beyond Kinlochleven, and never achieved much more than a shuffle beyond Glen Coe. I need to learn to run further!

Participation in ultra running has really exploded over the past three or four years, and one result of this is that where in the past you struggled to find any training advice at all, now you are spoilt for choice. So I decided to follow a pre-set plan to get you to a 100 mile race in six months, a bit more discipline in my game plan for once. What is encouraging is that many of the suggested plans have a lot in common, so they must come from some sort of consensus on how to do it. I picked mine because it seems to have the right amount of miles for me and I can probably do it without getting injured. It really differs from what I have done in the past in how the miles are built up, because the main focus is on a long back-to-back each week. This is currently 20 miles on day 1 and 12 on day 2, but it builds gradually up to 30-20 in May. There is a rest day on either side of the back-to-back, then you run three consecutive much shorter sessions mid-week, in which you have the option of upping the speed a bit. Finally, there is a really easy week on every fourth week, again something I've never done consciously before.

To add some interest I've also entered a number of events between now and the WHW race, but I've made sure that these fit in with the overall scheme of things, and I plan to treat them as training outings rather than with the aim of getting a best time. For example the Wuthering Hike at 32 miles comes on a day when the schedule says 25, so I'll just balance this by doing 6 miles the following day instead of the 13 called for. I've also gone back to doing a spring road marathon again this year, at Blackpool in early April, but again I don't propose to go particularly quickly because there is a 15 mile trail run planned for the day before.

So how is it going? Well, early days yet but I think I'm getting into the swing of it. For the back-to-backs I'm currently doing a trail run on Saturday with a bit of undulation (normally around 2000ft total) but making sure that it's all runnable (and all run!), and a road or towpath outing on the Sunday. I may substitute a second trail run on Sundays after the marathon in April. The midweek runs are short enough to be done with a bit of speed (although they do get progressively longer as the weeks go by), and the two rest days seem to ensure that you go into each "block" of runs feeling fresh. The one thing that feels a bit strange is the "easy" week. I've only done one of these so far and it feels a bit like tapering - you feel you should be out there doing something!

Will all this work? Well, who knows, but it's good  to have a bit of a structured project on the go, and if I can make it to the Lochaber Leisure Centre in the last few moments of Saturday 22nd June, it will all have been worthwhile.

Weighty Matters

Well I thought that by about now I would be posting a little report on my first event of the year, the Anglesey Coast Ultra. I'm not because all competitors got an email on Friday evening saying that it was cancelled owing to drifting snow on Holyhead Mountain. Can't be helped I suppose, race directors have to call it as they see it; events like the Tour de Helvellyn and the Spine go ahead in these conditions, but maybe it's just a different clientele.

So I went for a run in my local forest and hills, and for more than twenty miles I didn't put a foot on anything but snow, most of it about 10cm deep and beautifully light and fluffy, a real treat. Now I'd done a couple of 30-odd mile runs in November and December and found them fairly comfortable, but I'd taken them really easy. Whenever it felt hard I'd slowed down until I got a bit of oomph back. I decided on Saturday that as I was only planning an outing in the 20-25 mile range that I ought to try to get a bit more of a move on, after all, real training for 2013 has to start sometime. Keep below 10 minute miles, that was the plan. For the first 12 or 15 miles it felt relatively comfortable but then it got a bit worryingly hard. I toughed it out to just over 21 miles, but then I was either going to drop below the target pace or stop, so I called it a day.

Why so hard, I puzzled afterwards, I should be fit enough for this sort of thing. Maybe it was a one-off, I was a bit below par, the next run would be better. So the following day I went for a conservative 4 miles around the roads, Yaktrax because the roads don't deal with the snow as well as the countryside, but not too arduous. Just run steadily but put a bit of effort in, say 7,30 pace. I arrived home pretty tired having achieved barely 8 minute miles, wondering again why I just couldn't do it. Was I trying to get back to proper running too quickly? Shouldn't be a problem, I have to make this little kick-start into reality most years. 

Then finally, a glimmer of illumination.I knew that I'd put on a bit of weight during a few weeks' inactivity back in October. I probably hadn't redressed that before Christmas and we all knows what happens then; I just hadn't grasped the scale of the problem. On the bathroom scales I discovered I was 11st 10lbs. The whole of last summer I was a shade under 11st. It was a bit of a surprise. I got out a dry bag and filled it with sundry items until it weighed 10lbs. I was staggered at how heavy it felt. 

Time to get a grip.

Time to Change the Clocks

I've had my Garmin Forerunner 305 for 5 years or so and it's been a pretty reliable and useful tool. It must have recorded the best part of 10,000 miles worth of activity without any problems, but over the last year or so the battery life really started to dwindle; it would last for 12 hours or so when new but it was getting down to 5 or less. Then just before Christmas it started switching itself off without warning from time to time, so it was clear that a change was called for.

This had been pre-empted somewhat in the summer when I entered a race for which one of the compulsory kit items was an altimeter. Sounds strange I know but when you're making your way up an Alpine pass, knowing how high you are is a sight more helpful than knowing where you are on the map, so I was happy with the reasoning. The 305 has a built-in altimeter based on the GPS which is fairly accurate. I argued in a blog a while ago that the calculated height gain it gave was rubbish, probably because the algorithm is insufficiently smoothed to reduce accumulation of errors, but the actual spot height you get at any one time is certainly good enough to navigate by. The real problem was the short battery life. I couldn't face the faff of going through a race having to recharge frequently, most of the time from one of those AA battery powered devices which also means carrying extra stuff. So after a bit of research and deliberation, I decided on long hilly races I wasn't too fussed about knowing exactly how far I'd gone and what the pace was and so on, so I plumped for a simple watch/stop-watch with a built in altimeter working from barometric pressure. This means that you have to get into the habit of resetting the altimeter every few hours when you pass through a known height location, but this takes seconds and is no big deal. The model I chose is the Suunto Vector,

which is light and comfortable to wear and has nice big face, easy to read in the dark. Because there is no GPS it runs off a normal watch battery which lasts several years, and I found it was exactly what I wanted for that type of event.

But it didn't fully replace the Garmin 305 because I like to record distances and pace and so on from training outings and in shorter events (the only ones where I can manage sufficient speed to make the consideration of pace a worthwhile exercise!). I limped on with the gradually failing 305 for several months, wondering if I could do without it and finally deciding that I couldn't. So I poked around the reviews again and eventually decided to go for a Garmin Forerunner 310xt.

This is by no means a "latest model", it's been around for some time but this is the first advantage because it can now be got for around half the price people paid when it first came out. The other advantages are that it is very similar to the 305 in operation so I didn't have to learn a completely new device (we old people find it hard to cope with new things, you may have noticed), and the claimed battery life is twenty hours, better than anything else on the market except the very expensive (and different from Garmin - see previous comment!) Suunto Ambit. I've used it for a couple of weeks or so now and so far have been very pleased with it. Seemingly minor design improvements over the 305 which I have nevertheless really appreciated are:

- it has a flat back rather than the "cranked" design of the 305; I have a small wrist and this makes it far more comfortable

- the strap and buckle arrangement is much easier to operate but more secure when done up

- the timer start/stop button requires a much more positive action to actuate it, so it doesn't seem to have the annoying habit of the 305 of switching off if accidentally caught on a rucksack strap, gate latch or so on.

Otherwise it seems to have pretty much the same features as the 305, although another plus I've noticed already is that the accumulated altitude gain is an order of magnitude more accurate than on the 305, so this must have been a problem that Garmin were aware of and have now rectified.

One thing I had to get used to is that my 305 interfaced with software loaded from a disc into the computer, so all the records were only held on my machine, whereas the 310xt interfaces to a web-based system called Garmin Connect, so your records are "out there somewhere" but so far they seem to be pretty easily and rapidly retrievable. I also like that the data transfer is wireless from the watch to the computer, you don't have to do or prompt anything, just leave your watch by the computer when you take it off and the latest outing gets transferred while you have a cup of tea.

So, hopefully I'm set up for the next five years (by which time I shall be a few months off seventy - quiet gulp...). Time will tell.

Plans for 2013

Well, here we go, a brand new year and a lot of nice days out to look forward to......

19 Jan:  Anglesey Coast Ultra 33m

23 Feb: Belvoir Challenge Marathon (trail) 26m

09 Mar: Wuthering Hike 32m

23 Mar: Hardmoors 55m

07 Apr:  Blackpool Marathon (road)

27 Apr:  Highland Fling 53m

22 Jun:  West Highland Way 95m

27 Jul:   Lakeland Hundred 105m

31 Aug: Ultra Tour du Mont Blanc 104m

This might seem like a lot (or just an easy year if you're Jon Steele or Nick Ham) but I've decided to take a different approach this year and concentrate mainly on just two events  -  the UTMB (because I've got a place this year and entry gets more difficult by the year) and the West Highland Way (because I haven't really taken this great race seriously over the past two years and it's time I gave it another proper shot).

All the other events are really preparation for these two. I love the days out so don't want only to run two races, but I'm aiming to treat the others as miles I would do anyway and I won't push them too hard or be concerned about the time. I used to find this hard, I wanted to do as well as I could in every event I entered, but nowadays I'm happy to enjoy a day out. In the closing stages of last year I ran the Glen Ogle 33 and the Tour de Helvellyn deliberately taking them easy for various reasons, and while I'm sure I could get much better times in both I nevertheless thoroughly enjoyed both events.

So the runs up to the West Highland Way are "time on the feet" miles; it may be hard to resist having a good blast at the Fling but I'll try. There is a two month gap between the Fling and the West Highland Way. I toyed with the idea of a Bob Graham attempt at the end of May but I couldn't get near a 24 hour round except with an all-out effort which I think would take too much out of the tank so I'll leave it for another year. I may have a go at the Joss Naylor Challenge which doesn't have to be done too fast for my age group (although I would be allowed another 6 hours later in the year!)

I've entered the Lakeland 100 because it's a weekend not to miss, but also a good wakeup call to check that I'm in shape for the UTMB. It would be nice to get under 35 hours in the Lakes, but I wouldn't go for broke on that, finishing in good shape is what I'm after.

I haven't firmed up on anything for the last third of the year yet.  I'll see how things feel after the UTMB, but I've pencilled in the High Peak 40 which I've never done for September, then either Rotherham or the Liverpool Marathon for October. Attractive events dry up a bit in November, so I think this year I'll follow Dave Troman's example and have a month off. One thing's for sure though, I'll be back for the Tour de Helvellyn just before Christmas, wouldn't miss that one!

I did some speed work over the first third of the year last year, but as time goes by I find that running more quickly just leads to injury niggles for me, so I won't bother this year. I'll just cover the miles and rely on the hills to make me puff a bit.

Well, that's the plan, a lot to look forward to. But then don't the military guys always say that no plan survives the first contact with the enemy?

Cheers to 2012

Training in Zermatt  -  not a bad spot for a run

I enjoyed 2012.  Some things didn't go exactly to plan, but overall it was a pretty good year. First the statistics:

I ran a total of 2119 miles, roughly the same as in the preceding two or three years, although you have to interpret the term "ran" fairly generously, as a lot of the miles were fairly slow progress over hilly ground. This is clear when I split the total into my normal categories:

Faster than 8 minute miles (hard work) - 280 miles
Between 8 and 9 minute miles (just about real running)  - 378 miles
Slower than 9 minute miles (well.......)  -  1461 miles

I went out 168 times, an average of just over 3 times a week, making my average length of outing 12,6 miles. This  straight average hides a lot of detail though; I did regular 6-7 mile runs and a lot of longer stuff; I covered 20 miles or more on 24 occasions.

Out of the total, 514 miles were done in races.

An additional figure this year, because I was concentrating on hillier events I trained accordingly, so over the year I managed just under 350,000 feet of ascent.

Some of the averages were skewed by a couple of setbacks causing some "time out" which I'll come to.

Now the races. I kicked off with the Hardmoors 55 which took place mid March in pretty good conditions so I was hoping for a PB. Unfortunately I had a fall about 15 miles in, which I later discovered had cracked a couple of ribs. It hurt a fair bit on the day, but enthusiasm and adrenalin normally keeps you going; I got within a couple of minutes of my previous best but was pretty drained at the finish, more than normal after a race, and found I couldn't do anything energetic for a month afterwards.   

Finishing the Highland Fling

This left me a bit short of sharpness for the Highland Fling at the end of April, but I did manage to contrive a PB here. It was rather a cheat though as it was only by a minute or so and my previous best was to the old finish at least two or three minutes further on. Still, it's in the records so I'll accept it. I managed to retain my MV60 title for a third year, but I'm expecting a far tougher test in 2013 because two runners far more competent than me in the shape of Tony Thistlethwaite and the Magnificent Murdo have now joined the gentlemen's class.

6th completion on the WHW

The West Highland Way was wet for the second year running, only this time a bit more so. I realised quite early on that a good performance was very unlikely so I trundled to the finish in a fairly mediocre time (all my times for this year's events are shown in the panel on the right), trying to avoid getting too knocked about by the conditions  -  damage limitation if you like. Hopefully, we're due a good one in 2013. The plus side was that another Goblet appeared at the finish, making six for me now.

Elation on finishing the Lakeland 50

I entered the Lakeland 50 just to keep a bit of focus between the West Highland Way and the Tor des Geants, my main focus for the year which wasn't until the second week in September, so I started with the idea that it was a well supported training run in good company. On the day I had one of those outings where everything goes right. I had thought of somewhere near 12 hours but finished in just under 10 in 35th place, possibly my best ultra result ever.

With fellow Brits at the start of the Tor des Geants

And so to the Tor des Geants, which looked to be a wonderful though quite daunting adventure, which is what it proved to be. Enthusiasm carried me through the first day, I had a bit of a low point on the second, then got my act together and enjoyed every minute to the finish, which for me came five and a half days after the start, after a diet of the equivalent of three Ben Nevis's  and two hours sleep per twenty four hours.  I doubt if I'll ever do another event like it.

Home from Italy and I had an appointment with the surgeon to sort out two inguinal hernias that had been causing me a bit of a problem for two or three years, so another bit of downtime. It was a keyhole operation though, so four and a half weeks later I was able to jog slowly around the Glen Ogle 33, a nice run on a fairly flat but quite scenic course on what turned out to be a lovely autumn day, meeting some old friends along the way.

Back into some training and the year was rounded off with the Tour de Helvellyn, an event fast becoming a classic of the calendar. I had a non-stressful but sound run, feeling that I was back in the game again and looking forward to 2013.

Alongside the events, another project sidled into my life this year. When I knew I had a place in the Tor des Geants, I also knew that I needed to do a lot of walking up hills and running down them to have any sort of chance of completing the course. I really didn't fancy doing laps on Snowdon or Skiddaw so I decided to train by doing the Wainwrights. By the time the TdG came round they had got me fit enough, but they had also got me hooked, so I decided to carry on and complete them. I had hoped to get them finished in 2012 but other distractions got a bit in the way, and by the end of the year I had completed 189 tops in 24 outings, leaving me 25 still to do. I've decided that my new target will be to complete them in 12 months, and as my first trip was on 6th March 2012, that looks like being OK. It's been fascinating going to areas of the Lake District that I otherwise would never have considered - some have been outstandingly charming and others I won't bother to visit again!

And what else happened in 2012? Well, Jan and I became grandparents for the first time, a long-awaited joy for us,  we went to the London Olympics, a truly once -in -a lifetime experience, and I finally got around to completing a project that I had been daydreaming about for years, I built a Caterham 7.

Yes, all round, 2012 was a pretty good year. Here's to 2013!

Tour de Helvellyn en Hiver

For the first couple of years that I was involved in ultras, I ran the 50 mile Rotherham Round. It was in December; it was usually cold and wet, you started and finished in the dark and for half the course you were in mud above your ankles. But the organisers and marshals at every checkpoint were wonderful and the competitors loved it. I still remember the classic comment of the starter in the dark at 7am in the 2008 race  - "Don't believe the weather forecast, it's going to be a lovely day"  - of course it rained steadily from start to finish. But that's the thing about events in the winter, the conditions are an essential element in the plot; almost as if everyone's saying "OK England, we know you can do a bit of weather, so just bring it on!"  Then Rotherham was moved from December to October. I asked what the reason was and apparently the organisers were spending too much time trying to find lost runners all over South Yorkshire once darkness had fallen (navigation on the course can be tricky in places).  I've run it once since, in its new place in the calendar, and it's still a good outing, but a bit less problematic and so a bit less "special", if you know what I mean.

But when one door closes another usually opens and the excuse to avoid Christmas shopping and such distractions is now provided brilliantly by the "Tour de Helvellyn", which does exactly what it says on the tin on the shortest Saturday of the year. 2012 was the 3rd running of the event. I had entered in 2010 but was unable to make the start on account the whole west side of the country, including the M6, being under a foot of snow. Last year, the roads were OK but the Lake District was still completely snow covered, up to a couple of feet on the higher parts of the course, and we were treated to temperatures which varied from zero to minus quite a lot. This year would be different; flood warnings seemed to be out for half the country and the Met Office forecast for the Lakes included continuous heavy rain, winds up to gale force, wind chill and poor visibility. Yes, the TdH generally has weather.

The course is 38 miles long and by my reckoning has about 6200ft of ascent. It starts from Askham and first crosses Askham Moor to Howtown. On the moor there are tracks easy to follow which don't go where you want to go, and tracks difficult to follow which do - this becomes significant later in the day. In a normal year all this ground is boggy. From Howtown, briefly up to the first unmanned checkpoint at Martindale Church, then up Boredale for the first warm-up climb to Boredale Hause and down the other side to a manned checkpoint in Patterdale at the 10 mile point, where the actual circumnavigation of Helvellyn begins. A bit of narrow road up Glenridding then a steady climb over rough ground to Sticks Pass, the highest point on the course at about 2400ft, then a long descent, at first gentle but with a final quad-sapping few hundred feet down to Stannah Footbridge just above Thirlmere. A bouldery track for a couple of miles to a manned checkpoint at Swirls Car Park, then forest trails with numerous small ascents and descents lead southward above the lake to Dunmail Raise. The route turns for home here, ascending alongside Raise Beck to the col above Grisedale Tarn at around 1900ft, then down the long bouldery Grisedale track back to the Patterdale checkpoint. All you have then is the final 10 miles home, retracing your tracks of earlier in the day to the finish back in Askham.

After a five o'clock alarm and a quiet drive up to the Lakes through continuous heavy rain, I arrived at Asham village hall, checked in, and chatted to one or two people that I knew. We were all unreasonably cheerful, knowing how wet we were going to get over the next few hours, but that's the nature of the game I suppose. An unusual feature of the TdH is that there is no massed start - you start any time you choose between 7am and 9am and everyone's elapsed time is calculated at the end. Figuring that it will be light before I have to make any directional decisions, I wander out into the rainy darkness at about 7.45am. After half a mile a runner in the gloom ahead holds a gate for me and it turns out to be John Vernon - "no mistaking that hat" is his comment  -  so we walk and jog across the moor together. I'm not out to push myself today, just a satisfying completion in good shape is the target; half a stone too heavy and with not much real running in the past few weeks, I'm unlikely to break any records anyway. When it feels tough I slow down, when it feels good I speed up, that will do for today. The ground across the moor is very wet, and difficult to get the best track even in daylight. Just beyond the Cockpit there's a shout from behind we're passed by Dave Troman; he's having a storming year which will continue today as he goes on to a 5th place finish. A mile or so before Howtown I decide I want to go a bit quicker so I wish John well and leave him to the rest of his day. He finishes OK, he always does.

The staggered start works well. I guess if you're a real competitor it might be frustrating not to know exactly where you are in the field, but for most runners it means you pass and are passed by a lot of people so there is plenty of contact. We hit a bit of mist and wind over Boredale Hause but soon warm up on the nice descent down to Patterdale, tricky enough to keep you thinking but not tortuous. A quick top up of water bottle at the checkpoint then it's into the real meat of the race. The ascent of Sticks Pass goes well for me, this year there is no snow and you can see where the path is, and the uphill effort keeps you warm. I guess the temperature is about 6 or 7 degrees in the valleys, dropping as you climb but with freezing level just above the tops. The rain and wind make it feel colder though, and in conditions like these you are always wet, however good you think your gear is - it just varies from warm and wet to cold and wet. The first part of the descent is probably the most unpleasant part of the course today; the track is a continuous stream, and while everyone's feet have been wet since the first mile or so out of Askham, up here it's cold and wet so your feet slowly start to go numb and there's the feeling that they're not completely connected to the rest of you. It's good to get down to the checkpoint above Thirlmere where things are much warmer. The marshals are doing an amazing job today; continuous rain in temperatures not much above freezing must be about the worst to stand around in, and apart from the porch at Patterdale all the checkpoints are outside.

The section through the forest above the lake is a pleasant interlude, we seem to be a bit protected from the rain and wind, and I'm taking things easy and enjoying the day. Just at the point where the route swings up Raise Beck there is a photographer, another stalwart contribution to the day. I turn up the hill but he warns me that other runners doing this have had difficulty getting across the beck, so I detour a few yards down hill to the bridge to be on the safe side. The track up the beck is bouldery and quite steep, most people will use a hand on the rocks here and there, but deep in the gulley it is sheltered and calm and again I enjoy the ascent. Then we're out onto the very boggy traverse around the north side of Grisedale Tarn so it's cold feet again. The long track down Grisedale is bouldery with occasional rocky steps so difficult to get a good rhythm going, but halfway down it improves and then it's a nice downhill run all the way to Patterdale.  There is a 4.30pm cutoff here but I arrive at 2.30 so plenty in hand. 

For the climb back up to Boredale Hause the rain starts to slacken off for the first time, and maybe even stops for a while, but by the time we're back to Howtown it's back and will stay with us until the finish. From around Thirlmere until now I've been passing and repassing another runner, exchanging the odd word or two. We haven't run together because he is running faster than me but walking more often so our overall progress is about the same. He has stopped to check his map just ahead of me and I tell him to just keep going straight on. I show him the easiest way through Howtown from the church because there is an option here and we chat a bit. It turns out he is Phil Humphries from Edinburgh, who will be doing his first West Highland Way next year. Once we get on to the track on the moor I tell Phil to go on, because I will still take it easily on the uphills even though they're not steep on this section.

Just before the Cockpit I have to get my torch out, then I plot what I hope is my best way across the moor. The deeper bits of bog which were avoidable in the daylight are now undistinguishable from any other ground so I get pretty muddy in this final couple of miles. It's fascinating to see lights converging on the top of the final track down to Askham from slightly different directions all over the moor. Then it's a quick jog down the track and into the finish, the warmth, the tea, the soup and the cake.

My time was 9hrs 32mins. An hour and a half quicker than last year but conditions underfoot were definitely easier, although the weather was probably a bit less pleasant overall. 87th place out of 147 starters and 128 finishers, well down the field but it doesn't matter for this one. The satisfaction comes from getting out there in whatever conditions you face on the day and getting round safely and in good order. A super event, I'll be back to see what weather  Lake District serves up next year.

One final comment. Having heard one or two people recommend Drymax socks, I bought a couple of pairs recently. They claim to look after your feet and prevent sore spots or blisters and I had tried them out but not yet in a race. The step of faith you have to make is to resist the temptation to put any grease or tape or anything else on your feet, just rely on the socks. On the TdH my feet were completely saturated for over 9 hours. The course covered surfaces including shallow mud, deep bog, continuous water, stoney trails, bouldery tracks and some road. At the end, my feet were as good as they were at the start. The socks seem to work.

Blogging, Latin and the Question of How Far to Run.

Normal health warnings apply  -  persistence maybe required.

I see from the witheringly comprehensive Google information system that this is my 100th blog post. Not exactly prolific for someone who started back in 2009, but I have neither the ability of the Paisley Super-blogger to make training sound interesting nor the sharp wit of the Pirate to make almost anything else a good read, so I generally hang around until I think I have something to say. Maybe I've said enough by now anyway, 100 might be a good point to sign off, but I would probably carry on jotting and rambling anyway  and then it's just a question of hitting the "publish" button, so I'll think on for a while; I'm something of a creature of habit. What is clear though is that blogging has changed a lot even in the short time that I've been in the game. While there are many more active bloggers these days giving a huge choice of tales, rants and other stuff to dip into, paradoxically the technology seems to have moved on to consign blogging to the "yesterday's technology" pile. As Andrew Neil might put it, those of us who have spent years coming to terms with the interweb in general now have to move on to the fleecebook.  An altogether more immediate and punchy medium, maybe not for the likes of we brought up to look before we leap, but I'll probably have to make the effort to sidle in and keep up a bit more.

I was in some company spanning the generations the other day and the conversation started with facebook then turned to communication in general, education, and the pace of change. The silver oldies of course believed that real education ceased somewhere around the early 70's while the movers and shakers dismissed the relevance of anything that happened before the dawn of the digital age. This is par for the course, but I was still able to raise a bit of mirth and incredulity by confessing that one of the entrance requirements I faced back in 1966 for my degree course in engineering was a GCE pass in Latin. The younger members of the group suggested that this was probably more relevant in my day when the Romans had not long left Britain, but had no sensible place in modern thinking. I'm still inclined to disagree; though I've long forgotten the exploits of Scipio, Pliny and all the rest I still remember enough to help me decipher the odd bit of modern language, both English and others. But many of us will appreciate a bit of cod Latin, the "alternative translations", close enough to sound about right while being completely wrong. My school motto Abeunt studia in mores could be properly translated as "study breeds character" but a more popular version among the students was "if you work too hard you die".  Later in my academic career I spent some time at Liverpool with an office facing the clock tower and its proclamation Fiat lux  - let there be light, or maybe even "wash your car". Sometimes you don't need an alternative, the original is expressive enough, such as Semper in excreta sumus,  profundum solum variat  -  I'll leave you to work that one out. And finally there are those that have no genuine translation but are a just a modern concoction for effect  -  one that has stuck with me over the years was a favourite of my dad's  - Nil carborundum illegitimi,  generally understood as "Don't let the bastards grind you down".

But on to running, which is what this blog says on the tin. Around this time, most runners' thoughts turn to formulating some sort of a programme for next year. How many and which races to run? When I first stumbled into ultra running  -  hard for me to believe that it was still only five years or so ago  -  the wisdom seemed to be that one big event a year was the safest plan, with maybe a couple of 40 or 50 milers taken gently to lead up to it. I know quite a few good performers who still think this is the way to go  -  make one race your focus and use everything else as preparation, otherwise you won't deliver your best performance. They're in good company, this is what the guru Tim Noakes has to say - "As a result of the damage caused by the ultramarathon, I would suggest that if you wish to specialise as an ultramarathon runner, you should race only once each year or perhaps, even better, only every second year at the ultramarathon distance. If you race more frequently, you will never achieve the fastest time of which your body is capable."

But we all know that there are lots of runners out there doing far more than this with apparently no ill effects. An event every two or three weeks is the norm for some, then upwards to extreme cases like Jon Steele who will complete 50 ultras during this year. Ah, you will say, but these guys are only achieving quantity by compromising on quality, none of their events will represent anywhere near their best possible performance. Maybe, but that begs the question what the individual wants out of the game anyway. If we simply enjoy the taking part, we may be quite happy not to worry about our potential  and just get the fun of participation many more times a year. A bonus of this approach is that we don't need to worry about "peaking" for one particular time  -  if we happen to catch a cold or turn an ankle that week, no problem, there are plenty of other events to enjoy.

We still don't have the whole story though. What about the guys who turn in a stream of top class performances every year?  Last year Jez Bragg broke existing records in the Highland Fling and the Fellsman, and came 4th in the Western States (probably the most competitive ultra in the world) in the space of two months. This year Terry Conway broke the West Highland Way and Lakeland 100 records within 5 weeks. No compromise on quality here. But is this just a question of elite runners with huge talent putting so much time into their training that they are now playing a different game from the rest of us, to which the Noakes' rule no longer applies? Well for sure ultra-running at the top is becoming more "professional" in terms of the time athletes are prepared to put into their preparation and the results are getting more like other more established sports. Mo Farah turns in a world class performance then comes back a few days later and does it again. The bike racers go out and ride for five or six hours at speeds averaging nearly 30 miles an hour, then do the same the next day, and the next for two or three weeks. No consideration here of one major effort a year being the limit. But does this changed mindset percolate down to those of us with much lower abilities and aspirations?

When I look back over my own short ultra running career, I can't really find a difference in performance between the years when I competed the most (seven ultras and two marathons) and the least (three ultras and two marathons). Generally I run in an event, feel pretty knackered at the finish then get back to normal quickly enough to start running again two or three days later and return to full activity in about a week. I can't see that it makes much of a difference then whether the next race is in three months time or three weeks. 

It seems to me that the only real thing that stops us running an ultra shortly after another one is some sort of physical damage  -  bad blisters, over-stiff or sore muscles, aching joints and so on. We may not like to accept it, but unless we had an unlucky episode in the last race - say a fall or a badly turned ankle  -  then this damage is likely to be the result of insufficient preparation for the event; not enough training  - or to put it a different way, our brain was capable of more than our body so we pushed into an area where more damage was done than on a training run. Maybe we were happy to do this anyway for a one-off result, but it was a choice not a necessity; more training would have got us to the same place without the pain.

I think the other barrier to competing more regularly is psychological. We feel we ought to be tired after covering fifty or a hundred miles, so our body obliges us by actually feeling tired and we take it easy until the feeling goes away. But in my experience, so long as there is no actual damage, if we believe we can go out and run again then we probably can. Before this year's Tor des Geants race I couldn't see how I could keep going for five or six days on less than three hours of sleep per night; but I knew a lot of other people had done just that in previous years, so I made sure that I prevented damage by looking after my joints and feet and assumed everything else would be OK. In the event, I found I was going more strongly on Day 5 than on Day 2. Again, back in 2010 the West Highland Way race came less than three weeks after a LDWA 100 mile event. I wanted to do both so I did, and my WHW time was a personal best (out of 4 finishes up to that point) by quite some margin. I don't attribute any bragging rights to these examples, they are just illustrations of what can happen when you say "no, I won't be tired, it will be OK."

There are limits of course. I'm sure I couldn't do a Jon Steele (an ultra every week) without seriously cutting down my speed aspirations, and I'm not prepared just yet to be satisfied as a collector of finishes. I'm sure I still have a PB or two waiting to be teased out. But I've come to the conclusion that next year an ultra or a marathon once a month is fine by me. I've already entered three 100 milers and three or four shorter ones, and I'm sure the year will fill up nicely before too long.

Nil carborundum illegitimi.