Cold Comfort

Never attempt a marathon if suffering from an illness is the generally held, and wise, view.  However, when you tend to spend your free time with folk who grind them out day in, day out, no matter what their health issues it's easy to forget the impact of being in less than top condition.  This is my excuse for deciding to start the tough Beachy Head marathon despite having a scratchy throat and the vague cloggy-headed feeling of an impending cold.  That and the fact that I'd had to pull out after four miles last year.  Oh, and that it would be my fiftieth of the calendar year which would put me ahead of clubmate Martin's best ever year's total in our unofficial private competition...

A month off long runs and a few fast paced efforts in the meantime had my legs feeling pretty good at the start line.  Despite the  hilly terrain it all felt fine up until mile 18 and I was convinced that I would finish well under five hours, even daring to think about a charge for 4:45.  At this point I met up with Paul, veteran of over 300 marathons including several Beachy Heads, he mentioned that it always seemed like sub-5 was possible at this point but that the remainder of the course was very tough indeed.  He was absolutely correct!

It was during this final phase of continual sharp ascents and descents that my cold began to tell.  During the uphill hikes my head started to spin and chest ache, I was slowing to barely moving in order to allay the light-headedness, and then on the downhill jogs my legs seemed unwilling to pick my feet up off the floor which meant I was stumbling and staggering all over the place.  But I got through it, accepted the sub-5 was gone and jogged through to finish in 5:07, faster than I would have expected a month or so ago but well over what I feel was achievable on the day had all been well.

And that's it for this mammoth year of endurance running, now for a bit of rest and then to commence a proper training plan aiming for a substantial PB in March of next year.  It's been a bit of a slog for most of the year but there have been a number of achievements which I don't ever expect to repeat;

• 100th marathon/ultra (obviously - I can only reach 100 once!)
• 50 marathon/ultras in a calendar year
• 53 marathon/ultras in a 52 week period
• 7 marathons in 7 days

My long term aims now are to eventually get my marathon PB below 3:30 and to ease my way into the world of 100 mile events with a view to completing the Centurion Grand Slam , possibly in 2017.


24th October 2015  Beachy Head   5:07:41    #101

#100

With the concern about getting through #98 and #99 unscathed, #100 sort of crept up on me a bit.  The day was as good as I could have hoped; sunny but not too hot, Samphire Hoe looked fantastic, a strange other-world at the foot of the white cliffs, accessed via a tunnel which gives it a Narnia-esque feel.  It was by my favourite marathon organisation., SVN, and my glamourous assistant Mandy was there with me, her support of everything I do in running is a constant for which I am very grateful.

The run itself was almost irrelevant, I coasted to mid-way then put in some effort to record another negative split, another standard day of marathon completion.  I did consider slowing up in the final mile to try to exactly repeat the time from my very first marathon but concluded that this would be daft.  I was then presented with my medal, tee-shirt some certificates to go with the cards that several friends had written for me.  Glen had gone to the trouble of getting an alternative tee-shirt prepared referencing the Anti-Nowhere League's notorious song 'So What', the shirt has an ANL symbol with the wording 'I have run 100 marathons... So What?'.  I was sharing 100 Marathon Club official presentation day with Karen and so after all formalities the various cakes and Prosecco were available to all.

Reaching the milestone hasn't really meant a great deal to me of itself, it is something that I have ticked off along with other tick boxes on the way; doubles, quads, 52 in 52 weeks, 7 in 7 days and so on.  In some ways it feels like a burden lifted as I can now get on with running properly again, doing some faster, shorter stuff, getting my PB down and getting more into ultras, I'm pleased to have done it but looking forward rather than back.

23rd September 2015  The Tolkein Run  (26.9 miles)  5:02:41  #100

Nervous Nineties

Daftly I'd ended up with no leeway and so with my official 100th marathon booked, I had to race through the nineties with nothing going wrong.  The Bad Cow double was hot and humid on day one and rainy on day two.  I really didn't fancy them so soon after my Irish adventure but I had a schedule to stick to...

Cakeathon was another rainy day and I seemed to have nothing in my legs but the schedule was the schedule...

And then, with ridiculous stupidity I somehow thought it would be great if numbers 96 to 99 were a pair of two marathons in under 24 hours, never having attempted that feat previously, and with the first of each pair taking part partially in darkness.  With my terrible night vision and an over-riding necessity to avoid injury.  This was when the nineties did indeed become nervous!  There really so many things that could go wrong, particularly with my car chugging on beyond the 150,000 mile point.  However, I got them done.  The dark runs were tough, Kent Coastal was hot and had a lot of concrete, Bath Two Tunnels was novel, the mile long second tunnel on both loops being a cool experience in both senses.

So...  I adhered to the daft schedule, injuries were avoided and the 99th marathon completed.  It was a relief more than anything.

22nd August 2015  Bad Cow day 1          4:47:03  #93
23rd August 2015  Bad Cow day 2           5:05:58  #94
31st August 2015  Cakeathon                  5:19:43  #95
5th September 2015  Black Hugin            4:53:35  #96
6th September 2015  Kent Coastal           4:54:33  #97
19th September 2015  Thames Trail          5:18:23  #98
20th September 2015  Bath Two Tunnels   5:11:11  #99

A trip around the Inishowen Peninsula

This trip was a mini adventure undertaken on my own as Mandy was unfortunately unable to travel.  A coach journey pausing at Heathrow got me to Stansted Airport where I had assumed I would enjoy a comfy night's sleep on a bench before catching my early morning flight, however, there was no space to be found in more conventional locations so I wedged myself onto a wide window sill behind some cash machines...

and had just began to drift off when I was nudged back to full consciousness by an official who moved me on.  What sort of place has this country become when a man en route to some overseas marathons cannot grab some sleep behind a couple of airport cash machines? Hell in a handcart and all that.  A couple of hours wandering around and the gates had opened allowing me to charge through and claim a proper padded bench to kip upon.  Luxury!

My lack of sleep became apparent during the short flight; I remember seat-belting myself in to ensure I would be completely safe in the event of a crash, a brief glimpse of a cloudy shoreline through half-opened eyes and then the bump as we landed.  One of the most trouble-free flights I've ever enjoyed.

After a few misunderstandings with the strongly Ulster accented car hire assistant during which I thought he asked how my journey had been but in reality I seemed to agree to fully comprehensive insurance, which I didn't want, however once that was sorted I set off for the border in my smart black Fiesta, fully prepared for the armed control point and intensive questioning regarding my intentions.  Well, to be honest I had checked whether there was still anything like that in place and so was prepared for the unencumbered drive into the Republic.

My digs at the Tullyarvan Mill Hostel were basic but exactly what I required and at about £80 for five nights I was never going to complain about anything anyway.  After a walk into Buncrana town I set off across the boggy interior of the peninsula to Redcastle for the race briefing and to collect the required accoutrements, namely race number, dibbing chip and daily instruction cards which were satisfyingly exhaustive.  Harold, the genial and exceedingly helpful organiser held a brief talk covering the shuttle bus details and start times; 7am for those expecting to take over 6 hours, 8am for 5-6 hours and 9am for the speedy guys.  It was explained that there were some stern hills and so to add half an hour the expected flat time.

I wasn't planning on doing anything more than jogging round and so got myself back to the Redcastle Hotel by 8am the following morning for the medium paced group.  After catching up with a number of familiar faces from the UK circuit we queued up to have our dibber necklaces cleared then reset and of we trundled into the pleasant Irish morning.  The first 10 miles took us along the north-western shore of Lough Foyle past craggy coastline interspersed with small deserted beaches to the Shrove lighthouse where the route took us left and onto the first real climb of the day before doubling back so that our route to the lighthouse was now to our left as we climbed to the midway point enjoying evermore expansive views of the Lough and Northern Ireland across the water.

Dominating the scene for the last few miles, initially to our left and then as we switched back, on our right was the rounded mass of The Warren, a mountain rising above the town of Greencastle, and as we passed the halfway point the route turned ominously and headed directly up its testing slopes.  Three miles of effort later we descended to the north-eastern coast of Inishowen and to views even more spectacular than prior to the climb.

Kinnego Bay

Finish for day one was in the town of Culdaff where we were served a hot meal in one of the pubs.  After a leisurely discussion of the many sights of the day, the shuttle bus was boarded to take us back to Redcastle Hotel. A contented drive back across the beautifully bleak inner peninsula, a relaxed stroll into Buncrana for supplies during which I noted the peaty waters of Crana River resembled a flow of ale.  It almost made me jump off the wagon!

Flowing ale

Day two necessitated a drive back out to Culdaff for a short bus trip to the start, about three miles north of the town.

Today's route took us to the northernmost tip of the island of Ireland at Malin Head, famous for its weather station; the shipping forecast mantra 'Rockall, Malin, Hebrides', which has wormed its way into collective consciousness now has added vibrancy for me having run headlong into what seemed gale force rain lashing in from the wild Atlantic waters of sea area Malin .  This was bleak, beautiful awe-inspiring stuff.

Gale warnings for sea areas Rockall, Malin, Hebrides

Once the route turned back after a loop of the headland the going was much easier and I finished back in Culdaff in just under five hours feeling strong, although a delay in the dibbing system gave me a time a little over five hours, about 15 minutes faster than the previous day and again with a negative split.  It was during the welcome warming post-run meal that a plan formulated; 15 minutes faster each day and all with a negative split?  That sounded like a nice challenge to myself!

Day three started back in Culdaff and finished directly outside the hostel at which I was staying so the obvious thing to do was get the coach to the start and run back 'home'.  This meant running with the faster people but also meant that I could pass the first half in the company of good friends Rosie and John which was a very nice change to the reasonably lonely first two days.  However at halfway I had issues of negative splits and a 15 minutes to address so I pushed on a little quicker on my own.  There was a potential thwarting of my plans ahead in the shape of the Mamore Pass.  After a relatively flat first half, I was faced with maintaining a decent time over this forbidding mountain pass

Photos never seems to adequately convey steepness!

The photo really does not do justice to the zig-zagging steepness of this climb, however, going straight down the other side was equally tough on the legs, but with time on my mind I went for it feeling slightly out of control.  My thumping feet disturbed one of the ragged sheep grazing at the side of the road and he bolted along the road ahead of me, soon picking up a startled companion, then another, until it seemed as if I was pursuing a frightened mini-flock down the road.  At the bottom of the hill a lone marshal was operating a water station and her eyes grew wide as the out-of-control flock thundered toward her.  Her scream caused them to veer sharply right onto a small track where they gathered, eyeing me accusingly.  I was starting to worry that I'd be chasing my woolly pacers all the way to the finish line.  Having given up on my human sheepdog trial attempt I got my head down and put in some effort over some testing undulations, managing to record a speedy (for me) final full mile of 8:32 to achieve the negative split desired.

The final day, took us from Buncrana via Muff back to Redcastle and required a sub 4:30 to keep my goal on track.  It also meant driving from the start to the finish, getting a bus back to the start, running to the finish and then later driving back again.  The Muff marathon really did involve several hours of shuttling back and forth for me.  As the flattest of the days I was able to cruise to halfway and then accelerated in the heat to finish in 4:26 and claim a fourth negative split.  The medals for each day were able to be fixed together to form a single mega-medal which even incorporated an outline of the Inishowen Peninsula and approximate maps of the four routes.  Genius!

The Mega-medal!

There followed a really nice meal at the hotel after which trophies were presented and Harold tempted us all back for a repeat next year with talk of a generous 'early-bird' price, which in Sterling 'equated to nothing' he assured us Brits!  This was a fantastic four days, brilliantly organised but in a relaxed and friendly manner.  Despite the remoteness of some of the routes you never felt left on your own as marshals constantly drove back and forth checking on runners and giving out water.  And the views; just beautiful! I think I will be taking advantage of Harold's offer...





13th August 2015  Kinnego Bay      5:14:46  #89
14th August 2015  Malin Head        5:00:30  #90
15th August 2015  Mamore Pass    4:46:13  #91
16th August 2015  Muff                   4:26:19  #92

Complacent

Endurance running has a way of keeping you honest.  You get out what you put in.  Train diligently and you run well.  Take short cuts and you will be found out.  Having completed two 50 mile events and three of around 50K so far this year I had lost the fear of shortish ultras but, it seems, also the respect for the distance.  Mistakes made at this one were that I failed to fuel properly, set off too quickly and approached it thinking I knew it all having completed both the marathon and ultra distances in previous years.  It well and truly gave me the mauling I deserved. 

Mistake one; fueling.  I had a larger breakfast than normal prior to this sort of event.  This laid heavily on my stomach and resulted in reasonably severe stomach ache about two hours after the start.  I didn't take any food or gels to eat during the event.  I always eat regularly in the early hours of an ultra and it pays dividends for me in the second half.  During this one I relied on the sugar-rush effect of a sports drink, an attempt to replicate what happened in my previous event.  It failed to have any effect on this occasion.

Mistake two; pace.  I start ultras at the back and slowly.  I am happy to let the vast majority disappear over the hills and far away.  I then gradually increase effort and my sensible start rewards me with relatively fresh legs which enable me to finish strongly.  Here I started mid pack with a series of ten minute miles on a hot day and hilly course.  I am just not good enough to do that at the moment.

Mistake three; arrogance.  I knew the course quite well.  I knew how to approach it, when to run, when to ease off, which sections I would enjoy and those I would not. I also knew I would finish in under six hours as I knew everything.  I deserved to be taught a lesson. 

With ten miles left, my legs had well and truly 'gone', even fast walking was more than they could achieve and I was reduced to regularly sitting on benches to recover sufficiently for a further half mile shuffle.  Any attempt to actually run resulted in a light-headed, swimmy feeling and I had to stop, stooped with hands on knees in order to recover.

So completely was I put in my place that an oddly positioned '2 km to go' sign within 400 metres of the finish, whether placed there as a joke or mischievously I don't know, completely flummoxed me and I once again slumped onto a bench.  A friendly passer-by asked if I was okay and pointed out that the end was almost, literally, in sight.  I staggered through the final few metres completely unable to muster anything resembling a run.  A sobering end to several hours of misery and, hopefully, some important lessons learned.


9th August 2015   Salisbury 5-4-3-2-1 50k    7:10:34  #88

Help me make it through the night

Three twelve-hour timed events in eight days; what could possibly go wrong?  I was looking forward to these challenges as a test as to whether I had the mental focus to keep trudging out the miles come what may, a decent step towards longer ultras planned for next year.  I had even privately blamed my dnf at Caldecotte the previous week on lacking focus as these were more important events.  Best laid plans and all that...

Though I started conservatively on the first day at Ranscombe my slow pace soon felt tougher than it should have done.  It was warm and hilly but even so my cautious start should have felt like cruising, instead my legs felt heavy and rests became a necessary part of each lap.  By the time I had completed marathon distance I was dizzy and nauseous, telling myself that I needed to get through phases such as this I pushed on for another lap but was starting to feel as if I may not get round another one and so stopped at that point.  After half an hour laying in the shade I felt a little better but knew the correct decision had been made.

By the time I was more aware of what was happening Mandy had completed her fifth lap and several people were encouraging her to get another two done to reach marathon distance for the first time.  I heard a friend say that he would accompany her for the final lap and so I decided to go round with her for the sixth.  Completion of the full distance after seven weeks with no training whatsoever was a great triumph of determination. particularly as she finds running so challenging.  I was very proud if a little guilty that supporting me in my hobby has lead to her being drawn into a netherworld in which running a marathon or more a week is considered perfectly normal.  Sorry love...

On the Sunday morning I awoke feeling dreadful.  I realised how bad things were when I fell asleep during the process of putting my socks on.  After a couple of further attempts to get moving the lure of the duvet proved too strong and I slipped back into slumber feeling no need to justify yet another in my rapidly growing dns and dnf count.

Endure 12/50 commenced at 7pm, went through the night to finish at 7am, and if successfully completed would be the first time I had carried on throughout the hours of darkness.  The event took place at Beale Park, only a couple of miles from home, and consisted of five mile laps, mainly on flat trail and including a scenic stretch alongside the Thames.  It was a relaxed, sociable environment and being so close to home there were a lot of friends involved, which was excellent.

I started in my preferred 'ultra' mode of Very Slow Indeed, jogging round comfortably and aware that putting off the effects of fatigue for as long as possible was likely to pay dividends later.  I ran with my club mate and friendly rival Pete for a while before he pushed on with me calling after that I would catch up with him at 35 miles.

Despite my controlled start the familiar heavy legs soon made their presence felt and by the ten mile point weariness was already a worrying factor with hamstring and glute pain also preying on my mind.  I walked back to my car, grabbed some grapes to supplement the two Clif bars I had already consumed, took a couple of ibuprofen, donned a head torch and set off into the gloaming.

My night vision is poor.  I once drove my car into a ditch thinking the inky blackness was some lovely fresh tarmac.  This combined with my fatigue contributed to a marked slowing in my already snailish progress.  Despite caution in the dark I just could not distinguish the humps from the hollows and eventually, inevitably, took a tumble.  At that point I resolved that it would be safer to just hike through the darkness, avoid the possibility injury through tripping, and see how things were when the light returned.

My walking pace is good, a legacy, I always like to think, of keeping up with my mum as a small boy whilst she paced it around Maidstone market seeking out bargains.  However, even given the darkness, I was disappointed with only being able to knock out 17 minute miles.  By the time I completed my fifth lap, meaning I needed one more to 'count' for 100 Marathon Club purposes, I wasn't even sure I would get that far.  I repaired once more to my car, gathered together some grapes, energy drinks and gels to leave in the solo runners' support tent (which I had only just discovered, conveniently located right beside the start/finish!) and headed out again, after, bizarrely, joining the toilet queue for a few seconds before realising that I didn't even require use of the facilities.  At this stage I calculated that if I got lap six completed, I could rest up and maybe get another two done in the morning to record a total of 40 miles for the event, with which I would have to be satisfied.

One of the enjoyable and uplifting elements of this undertaking was the supportive, friendly attitude of the marshals spread regularly throughout the course, their spirits didn't seem to wain throughout the twelve hours which was a great boost.  My favourite part of the course was the VW camper van parked in a field just as the course reached the river on each lap.  Prior to dark it was pounding out dance tunes which brought a smile to my face every time I approached.  After dark the volume was understandably reduced but the ultraviolet lighting gave the scene a trippy, surreal feel.  Added to this a glowing, blue, ghostly bar was plentifully stocked with vodka shots and Lucozade Sports drink.  I haven't used this drink for a few years now as I found it too sickly sweet.  However, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of an ultramarathon, feeling knackered, a bit miserable, sorry for myself and having decided (once again) that I wasn't suited to endurance running, I took one and glugged it down in one go.  

Not long afterwards the sugar-rush hit me and I felt much better.  Immediately I was loving the novelty of being out by the darkly powerful river during the nighttime and pushed on with renewed vigour.  On the next lap I felt the urge to start running again on the non-trail sections and was striding through the trail parts a far faster rate, unable to resist breaking regularly into a canter.  I topped up my sugar on the next two laps and felt unstoppable. Even early morning rain didn't dampen my revived enthusiasm.  Mental calculation revealed that I would now be able to complete ten laps within the twelve hours and therefore be entitled to get another one done thereafter.  

During the tenth lap I was full of the joys of 50 mile running and passed Pete at 47 miles, twelve  miles after the point I had jokingly told him I would catch up .  My mile splits on this circuit were 10:32, 10:35, 9:51, 10:48 and 9:50 and I am certain I could have continued at this sort of rate but I realised that I would achieve a PB if I stopped at that point.  I know some runners quite legitimately claim shorter distance PBs recorded during the course of longer races but personally I don't and so decided to stop simply in order to record an official time for my own purposes.

This was a night full of learning.  I definitely need a better head torch, my current two, although very serviceable for the cheap price, do not pass muster with my weak night-vision on unfamiliar trails.  More importantly I have often heard that no matter how bad things seem they can always improve and although I had experienced this to a lesser degree previously, this experience really drove it home.  At ten miles I was in pain and heavy legged; at 25 I was uncertain that I would complete another lap; at 45 I was on top of the world and running freely feeling that nothing could stop me.  It was fantastic!  I am aware of the role that sugar played in this turn around and will look to see how I might use this more judiciously over these longer events.

I love a stat or two and so it is always a pleasure when events provide split information for me to analyse, ponder and play with.  My lap times were; 53:10, 55:35, 1:12:51, 1:23:12, 1:26:55, 1:30:02, 1:08:21, 1:07:41, 1:05:27, 50:22.  Laps three and six include the excursions back to the car and so are slightly longer than they otherwise would have been if I had used the solo runners' support tent from the start.  These figures show that I was faster over the second 25 miles than the first by about ten minutes; 5:51:43 compared with 5:41:53.  I'm not certain that this is the best method over a 50 mile race but I certainly enjoyed doing it that way.  I'm not sure whether I'm happier about the negative split or the fact that my last lap was the fastest of the night but one thing I am sure about is that my most enjoyable two runs so far this year have both been 50 milers.

11th July 2015 Ranscombe Challenge  30.4 miles  7:02:20   #86
12th July 2015 Ranscombe Challenge          dns
18th July 2015 Endure 12/50                50 miles   11:33:36  #87
26th July 2015 Snowdonia Trail                    dns

Just getting it done

Since NDW50 I've been completing one or two marathons a week with no real concern about time, just getting them done and enjoying things as much as possible despite the understandable deadness in my legs.

Shindig in the Shire was a beautiful stroll around the Shropshire Hills with one very testing climb on each of the two laps.  I ran a great deal of this with all-round endurance machine Kate and was very satisfied with a sub six hour finish given the previous week's efforts.

Kent Roadrunner is a course on which I never seem to perform well, I approached this with my fail-safe run nine minutes walk one minute strategy but even that didn't assist my weary legs and I ended up basically just walking the final eight miles.

Viking Coastal double was definitely a weekend of two halves.  There were quite a few from my running club attending and it's always nice to have a bit of friendly rivalry to add some interest.  Day one was terrible for me, the legs just did not want to work properly and I was beset with stomach problems which necessitated a visit to public conveniences at the halfway point, all of which contributed to me finishing last of six in the Reading Roadrunners sub-race.  On Day two I reverted to the trusted nine/one strategy and had my determined head on.  There were two goals; first placed Reading Roadrunner and with a quicker time than yesterday's 'winner', Pete, who had finished in about 4:30.  I reached halfway in 2:15 and then put in some effort to achieve both goals with a 2:07 second half, and in the process recorded my fastest time of the year.

Holly Challenge is a quirky event starting at Race Director Denzil's house and involving 32 laps of the undulating, uneven circular trail upon which his home is situated.  In addition to the tricky underfoot conditions it rained consistently and there were many large puddles one of which covered the width of the trail.  Combined with this I was beset with some knee and lower back issues which all served to make this a real grind, but a pleasing one to complete.

The hills and technical trails of Trail Marathon Wales were never going to allow anything other than a plod round in my current condition but the scenery proved a lovely distraction, as ever, and I got another one completed.

The Barrow Challenge offers half, full and ultra marathons over the course of ten days, I was 'only' doing the marathons on days three and four.  The courses are self-navigated following printed instructions over a mixture of road and trail.  An early navigation error cost me a bonus mile on day one and the familiar leg weariness made it more of a slog than I would normally hope.  After the race I drove up to spend a lovely few hours with my daughter in Nottingham, before heading back to my hotel at Braintree for the night.  Next morning I set my satnav expecting a journey time of about half an hour but was surprised to find it was double that.  Some slightly faster driving than I was expecting for got me to the venue with about 20 minutes to spare and it was then more of the same, apart from the getting lost bit. The journey home gave me a driving distance of 550 miles for the weekend to go with the two marathons.   It was only when recording the official results in my spreadsheet that I noticed my last three marathon finishes were all within eleven seconds of each other.  Consistent if not much else!

Next up was a 30 mile ultra with Enigma running featuring eight laps of Caldecotte Lake, a course with which I have grown a little over-familiar following my travails at Quadzilla and Week at the Knees earlier this year.  An added interest was the presence of Commonwealth Games marathon runner and British 100k record holder Steve Way at the race to prove fitness for the British ultra team after an injury.  I hadn't focused on this event at all, turning up having forgotten a couple of provisions and not really fueled properly.  The lack of focus told very early and during the third lap I knew I had had enough.  I could have trudged round in the heat to finish in something well over six hours but just could not be bothered.  The only thing that made me think twice was that my mum had come to see me run for the first time since my very first marathon in 2002 but I knew she would much rather me stop than push myself when it didn't really feel like something I wanted to do. So I pulled out with no guilt whatsoever, sat in the shade and had chat with mum, Mandy and two of my most admired endurance running friends Ellen (recovering from the 250 mile Thames Ring race) and Traviss (veteran of something like 35 100 mile races).  These are two of the people who are inspiring me to go further once my 100 marathons are done and dusted.

 
23rd May 2015   Shindig in the Shire          5:51:31  #78
30th May 2015   Kent Roadrunner              5:22:17  #79
6th June 2015    Viking Coastal                 5:04:26  #80
7th June 2015    Viking Coastal                 4:22:09  #81
13th June 2015  Holly Challenge                5:14:30  #82
20th June 2015  Trail Marathon Wales        5:46:48  #83
27th June 2015  Great Barrow Challenge     5:46:37  #84
28th June 2015  Great Barrow Challenge     5:46:45  #85
5th July 2015      Enigma Ultra                           dnf

NDW50

My lead up to this event had left me low in confidence; the previous two marathons had been far harder than they should have been and the nature of this run, 50 miles of tough trail with 5600 feet of elevation gain, was not to be taken lightly.  My plan was simply to focus on the next aid station and its cut-off time, I was fairly sure that I wouldn't make it through the full 50 miles but was quite relaxed about pulling out if I felt I was damaging myself or a time-out was looming threateningly, it wouldn't be a big deal.  Considering that I was pretty much a bag of nerves before the start, I settled into the run very quickly, and by the first aid station the doubts were already fading.  

I had been very happy to let the majority of the field pull away from me after the early congestion.  I hadn't recced the course at all but it was so well marked by the awesome Centurion Running team that it was only necessary to keep my wits about me.  My initial aim was to reach the first aid station comfortably ahead of cut-off and feeling as fresh as possible.  This was achieved going through with about 20 minutes to spare.  From the race photos it seems there were only three of the 232 starters behind me at this point, although I didn't think I was quite that far back.  Seeing a couple of friends, Adrian and Fiona, volunteering at the station added to my growing feeling of well-being.  Over the next four miles I really began to enjoy myself.  Pace was easy, the weather sunny without being too hot, the route was beautiful and I was loving the tranquility of being in my own bubble.  

First meet up with Mandy, my brilliant 'crew' for the day, was soon after the ten mile point.  I was feeling great, grabbed a handful of grapes and toddled onwards.  The next stage took me up to the strangely isolated St Martha-on-the-Hill church, redolent of a horror movie location had the weather not been so glorious.  The views across the Surrey Hills to the south were stunning, an early visual treat on a day which was to be full of such sensory delights.

Between here and the second aid station, just before the 15 mile point, I began to catch and overtake the odd runner and continued to feel as if I had hardly started my running.  I was now 50 minutes ahead of cut-off so was able to take on some Coke and water in a relaxed way and was just heading off when I heard Mandy calling me.  She had experienced some difficulty getting parked and had almost missed me.   We had expected this to happen at some point and so the prospect hadn't worried me but it was still good to reassure her that I was fine and again take a handful of grapes with me, it really did feel like they were giving me a boost.

Shortly afterwards I caught up with Rachel, a far more experienced ultra runner than I am, she was having a tough time but in her usual way was getting it done without complaint.  I still felt very strong and so after a while pushed on.  I was starting to catch more and more runners and was very pleased with how good I was still feeling.  I met with Mandy again shortly after 21 miles, grabbed a little more food and marched on to the familiar territory of the Denbies Wine Estate which I knew from the Bacchus Marathon.  

I arrived at aid station three over an hour ahead of cut-off in 4:57, official timing here shows that I had moved up 205th position.  I had been advised that as long as this 24 mile point was reached by five hours then you only had to keep moving to finish in time.  Tomatoes, nuts and oranges were the fuel of choice from this station and I headed out across the Box Hill Stepping Stones...

making very sure of my footing before taking on the infamous and strenuous ascent of Box Hill itself.  Strangely I still felt great after the climb.  Everything was going much better than I had hoped.  Mandy and I managed to miss each other at the top of the hill but I carried on unperturbed, still overtaking fellow competitors regularly.  By the time I reached the 31 mile aid station, greeted by Adrian (again), I was up to 187th place but for the first time starting to feel a little weary.  Vegan cake, Coke, electrolyte drink and the old favourite grapes from Mandy were taken and I continued after a longer than normal break.

Within a few minutes I started to feel better and began to move more fluidly, again catching fellow runners regularly.  During this phase I started to get a little confused about how many miles I had covered, at one point being certain I had passed 33 miles when I was still half a mile short of that distance.  On playing around with the watch settings I noticed that battery life was down to 10% and was quite pleased to stop the timing so that the mileage confusion ceased preying on my mind.  Immediately I was far happier just being able to see the actual time. 

I next met Mandy at 34 miles, she had purchased a bottle of Coke which seemed to be exactly what I needed at the time, I sat on the back of the car for a brief rest whilst I swigged half of it, took the last of the grapes and headed out to the hills once again.  Five minutes later I made my only major navigational error, following the main path rather than forking left onto what seemed a minor trail, completely missing the very clear marking.  I was hugely grateful to the following runner (from checking event photos I think possibly called Gary) for shouting after me and ensuring that it only cost an extra minute or so.

At about the 4pm, around 36 miles into the run, a view unfolded around me that will live with me for a long time.  I was trotting along a relatively nondescript track when the vista opened up on both sides, lit by brilliant sunshine through clear spring air.  To my left the skyline of central London, the majestic Shard sharply dominating its urban patch, to my right the bucolic beauty of the High Weald; a truly breathtaking moment in which I felt at one with the universe in supreme contented isolation.  Then I realised that the blister on top of my big toe had burst.

By the next aid station at 38 miles I was well over two hours ahead of cut-off, feeling on top of everything and had moved up to 187th position.  A few words with volunteering friends Paul and Fiona (again) and I was quickly through the station running as well as any time up to that point.  I met up with Mandy again a couple of miles further on, took a swig of Coke and was soon off again, pretty much enjoying every single step.  I was already thinking in terms of this being one of the best running experiences of my life.

I soon recognised parts of the next section from the Vanguard Way Marathon and so knew another tough climb was due.  The legs just started to feel a little more heavy at this point and I slowed significantly with the dual intent of conserving energy and avoiding any trips on the uneven surface.  The climb up to the Botley Hill aid station was a toughie but I managed it without drama despite, bizarrely, being overtaken by a police horse huffing, slipping and staggering up the steep incline.  I wittily called to the WPC on board the beast that she was cheating which was probably the funniest thing she had ever heard.  Or maybe not.  The aid station was situated right at the top of this climb which was great for a quick rest and recovery before I commenced the final seven mile section.  

I was still able to run pretty well on the downhills but I found it difficult to stop trying to calculate how far I was through the final section, I just wanted to stay in the moment.  It was on a relatively easy part of the course that I had my only fall of the day.  My ankle went over and I tumbled straight into a thick patch of stinging nettles.  It was a strange feeling laying there on my back with the nettles all around knowing that whatever I did it was going to hurt.  A quick assessment established that my best bet was probably to roll straight out, which I did, sustaining quite a lot of stings to my right hand and leg.  I was soon up and off again, more amused by the incident than anything which says something about how relaxed I was still feeling.

I guessed that I was probably within three miles of finishing and the fall made me a little cautious but I was more than happy to proceed at a good hiking pace.  A little while later after a succession of gates and seemingly identical fields a glance behind made me aware that I was being caught by several runners.  One soon overtook me moving well and on entering the next field the finish gantry came into sight.  I resolved not to concede any further position so jogged on at a reasonable pace.  We were soon out of the fields and onto the road for the last half mile or so.  I increased the pace as much as I could but occasional glances back confirmed that I was still being caught.  A sharp left turn and I saw that the the final part of the course was uphill. I slowed to a walk to regain some energy, the clapping which had greeted me as I rounded the corner, broke out again very quickly.  I really was still being caught.  With that realisation I broke into the fastest run I was able to muster, turned left into the grounds of Knockholt Village Hall, up the vicious tiny rise immediately before the gantry and finished over an hour ahead of the cut-off and 16 seconds ahead of the next runner.  It really was worth 'sprinting' at the end of 50 miles for the sake of maintaining the sought after 161st finisher position.  Oh yes.  Definitely.

Mandy was on had to place the medal around my neck, a lovely touch, and I lowered myself to the ground in order to recover from my final push, reflecting on how stupid it was to finish like a lunatic, although to observers I was no doubt only trundling along.  Nici, one of the main organisers, advised me that as I now had a qualifying time I ought to enter one of the Centurion 100 mile races.  At the time I knew there was no way I ever wanted to go beyond 50 miles...

After a stagger to the Village Hall, during which emotion overcame me and I had to sit on a handy bench to weep for a few seconds, I collected myself and then my finishers T-shirt and headed to the car.  My calf muscles were rippling as if independently alive and occasionally they would cramp quite spectacularly but this calmed down and by the time we arrived home I was tired but physically fine.  Maybe I could get through another 50 miles on top of that, I began to think to myself, I would probably have felt fine if I'd taken the last part more easily...

This was in complete contrast to my only previous attempt at 50+ miles almost three years ago,  during which I felt worse than on any run before or since.  The NDW50 2015 has now officially been rated as my most enjoyable run ever, I just loved the whole experience of managing myself through the wonderful, challenging course.  I now know that the focus of my future running is going to be the ultra distances and I am feeling very excited about what will follow reaching 100 marathons, hopefully later this year.

16th May 2015  North Downs Way 50 miles    11:50:17   #77

A tale of two trails

Two trail marathons through beautiful springtime countryside with many similarities but some marked differences.  Neolithic is a point to point race commencing the the ancient stone circle of Avebury, across Salisbury Plain to Stonehenge whereas Bewl water is two laps of the largest body of water in Southern England.

Both of these were booked as hopefully pleasant ways of racking up the numbers on my way to 100 Marathon Club full membership.  Both were to be taken easily rather than raced.  Both served to reinforce that an easy marathon is by no means an easy thing to achieve.  The stand out memory of the first was the thunder storm which swept across the course on the exposed plain, being absolutely drenched by the horizontal rain but soon drying off as the sun came out again.  Over 1000 walkers started the same course two hours before the runners, this meant a lot of dodging around them on rutted trails which tired my legs.  Towards the end I ran out of energy drastically and finished feeling quite dizzy.

Over the next few days I didn't feel well and this impacted the Bewl Water run as a mid-race dash to the toilets added time and distance making the second lap pretty much a wobbly legged walk around.  It was hillier than I had expected which again tired me significantly.  The best that could be said was that I got it done!  

These two 'easy' marathons were supposed to be gentle lead ins to the next big event on my calendar, the North Downs Way 50 miler, but actually only served to increase my already high anxiety.

3rd May 2015  Neolithic Marathon       4:57:41   #75
9th May 2015  Bewl Water Marathon    5:43:28   #76

Back in the saddle

It was probably not the brightest of ideas to attempt the hilly Compton 40 miler as first event after the 7 in 7, my legs duly all but packed up during the first of the two loops and I quite literally staggered to the half way point, at times barely able to move forward during the final miles, recording an official 20 mile finish in 4:31:13.  Subsequently I developed a cold and having spent the Saturday before my next event coughing and sneezing, feeling generally achy and lethargic, I took the decision not to start the highly regarded Brighton Marathon.  It was strange reading social media reports of many personal best performances later in the day; part pleasure for the deserved rewards being enjoyed by many friends, part envy at not being able to enjoy the same feelings myself.  I knew that taking on so many marathons this year would adversely affect my running, and I also know that recovery from the punishment endured by my body in the last few months would take time, but jealousy at others was getting me impatient.

The events since Week at the Knees had shaken my confidence and I turned up at Ashford genuinely uncertain as to whether I had the wherewithal to complete marathon distance.  The first half mile was enough to confirm that my legs still had not recovered sufficiently and the entire event became a grind.  Once the half-marathoners finished it became a very lonely experience.  About four miles into the second loop I became increasingly suspicious that I was in last place.  I could see no runners ahead or behind and had quite a mental battle convincing myself that it was worth continuing.  I have enough experience to have a good idea of pace without looking at my watch and my sole focus became keeping a rate which I thought would get me round in under five hours.  I passed one runner obviously having a worse time than myself and on the short out and back section noticed another also behind me so was able to use keeping ahead of those two as another incentive to keep moving.  This was a day on which completion in any time was victory and it was to a degree gratifying to finish in under five hours but I was still being hit very hard physically.

A mini road trip to Kent with clubmates Martin and Julia followed.  I decided to revert to a previously successful run for nine minutes, walk for one minute strategy to see if that helped me get through a potentially difficult three events in four days which were on the agenda.  At St George's Day Marathon last year I eased to a 4:01 finish in relative comfort and so approached this flat out and back course with a slightly elevated confidence than I had been enjoying recently.  A very easy first half in which I stuck rigidly to my plan ensured that I was able to run strongly in the later stages and pick off runners to finish in better shape than for quite some time and with a negative split.  The Wonderland Caucus Race, a fancy-dressed, surreal experience at the foot of the white cliffs of Dover followed.  This was a six hour event but I decided from the start that seven laps totalling 26.95 miles would be sufficient.  Again I started cautiously and despite struggling to get my legs working properly in the first three laps I finished strongly with a second negative split in two days.  A bit of friendly rivalry out on the course certainly helped to focus my competitiveness and the decision to plug in to my music at the start of lap four was a huge boost, putting a smile on my face and getting me singing out loud in exuberance.  I had quite a physical dip at the end but know how to handle this and was able to prevent myself getting too cold.

And so to Hamburg, my favourite road marathon.  I ran this entire event with Kaz who has 160+ marathon finishes under her belt, including three ten in tens!  A very determined endurance runner!  I said from the start that I was going to be following my nine/one strategy and she was happy to do the same.  My legs again took about five miles before they felt as if they were moving without restriction but by halfway I was feeling great.  Kaz mentioned that she had never negatively split a marathon and so I resolved that today would be the day she would.  I felt on top of the world, playing to the crowd with fist pumps and high/low fives and just could not get the smile off of my face.  We tried to step up the pace to achieve the neg split but Kaz did not have enough recent training to keep up the late pace and so we eased down a little and cruised to the finish in about a one minute positive split.  It didn't bother me to miss out on the third negative split in four days, I was just happy to finally be recovering from my slump and anyway it was great to run the whole thing with Kaz, a very different experience for me as a normally very solitary runner.

Finally I have started to feel like my running legs are returning but am aware that I need to be cautious about getting too carried away.  I am quietly confident about completing the four marathons booked in for May, the more concerning obstacle is the 50 miler half way through the month, but, what will be will be, I'll start it with no expectation and just see how it goes.

 4th April 2015  Compton 40                               dnf
12th April 2015  Brighton                                   dns
19th April 2015  Ashford & District                4:56:26  #71
23rd April 2015  St Georges Day                  4:47:51  #72
24th April 2015  Wonderland Caucus Race   5:12:05  #73
26th April 2015  Hamburg                            4:32:18  #74

Week at the Knees

Seven marathons in seven days was never going to be without its challenges and I was realistic enough to know that completing the full event without significant injury was the only real objective I should have in mind.  The format was simple enough; a marathon at one of three lakeside venues in Milton Keynes each day for a week.  I felt it was slightly ominous that only one of the sixteen survivors of the inaugural event was returning for the second year but anything which served to increase my caution about the undertaking was welcome.

The venue for the first three days was Willen Lake, a course I hadn't run previously, the first morning dawned cool and misty without much breeze.  I set off cautiously, walking up all inclines, with the aim of completing the initial run feeling as fresh as possible.  Getting to know a new course meant that there was something to occupy my mind as there was quite a bit of variation.  I still felt reasonably good on the last of the seven laps and eased to the finish in just under five hours.  After the race I commenced what was to become my routine for the week.  Back to the hotel room for a bath, walk up to the local Pizza Express, enjoy the same meal in the same seat each day and then back to the hotel for rest and to take on more calories.

Day two felt a little easier and I was able to run with less caution but still took it steadily up the hillier sections to complete ten minutes quicker than the previous day.  Day three was again misty but warmed up significantly and I pushed my pace towards the end to complete in my quickest time for almost seven months.  By now I was thinking in terms of completing each day in under five hours and was fairly optimistic despite increasing niggles from knees, hip flexors and an ankle.  In retrospect my quick pace at the end of day three was an error and I should have been holding back at this stage.

Day four moved to Caldecotte Lake, a venue at which I never seem to run well, however a cautious approach paid off and I was able to finish in exactly 4:45:00.  There was a small hint of the distress the next few days held for me at mid-race.  Without warning I suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable, before I was able to do anything I sobbed with anguish and had a few seconds loss of emotional control before composing myself. It was something that took me by surprise but possibly points to how much it was all taking out of me.  That evening after my normal post-race routine I began to get concerned about the state of my legs.  Both knees were feeling weak and painful, particularly on any lateral movement, my right ankle was experiencing a sporadic stabbing pain with no particular trigger and my hip flexors were so tight that movement after any rest was barely more than a shuffle.

Day five was a lovely day, cool and bright apart from the brief eclipse very early in proceedings, and was at Furzton Lake, my favourite of the venues.  Despite all this I commenced this run virtually convinced that my knees would not be able to take the punishment today, let alone another two days.  The format here was seventeen laps and within three laps I had decided that enough was enough.  There was no point inflicting long-term damage on myself.  As I came to the start/finish aid station I was certain I was going to stop, have a day or two off and then see if I could get going again.  For some reason, though, I didn't stop and ploughed straight on without saying anything.  This pattern repeated itself for several laps, convincing myself to stop and then ignoring my decision.  Once I had completed ten laps I realised that it would be better to get the thing completed that day and then re-assess.  The realisation that I was going to have to keep going for another couple of hours was tough and made me feel quite miserable, but I managed to reach the finish line without any further issues.  

Rather than stay over on the Friday night I had decided to travel home and then come back with Mandy for the final two days.  That night I was quite deflated.  I really didn't think I had it within myself mentally or physically to complete the full event.  I went to bed more or less convinced that I would give day six a miss, particularly when I saw that the weather forecast for Caldecotte was cold and windy.  I just didn't have enough strength to contemplate a repeat of the Quadzilla discomfort of earlier this year.  On waking I decided that I should get kitted up, travel up and see how I felt.  

The answer was that I did not want to get out of the car into the horrible weather and run a marathon.  But as I saw my fellow seven in seven competitors making their way to the start I joined them.  The shared suffering somehow lifted me.  These were people that knew what I was going through.  You could see the understanding in their eyes.  There were people here suffering more than I was; Donna with her chest infection, Laurence almost crippled with shin splints, Ed, having completed a double the previous weekend, now on his eighth in eight days.  There were at least two runners older than myself who seemed to be coping.  I had no excuse not to start.

This was the toughest marathon I have ever endured.  Throughout I was certain I would have to stop.  Every joint below my waist seemed to be hurting to some degree.  I was constantly struggling emotionally, feeling almost on the edge of completely losing control.  A two mile stretch at some point around half way was particularly bleak; every major low point of my life seemed to be vying to dominate my thought processes.  I felt hopelessly alone in the world.  Coupled with the emotional and physical distress, the long, steady ascent in the last mile of each lap, up which I was having to walk, seemed almost insurmountable.  Directly into the cold, relentless wind it seemed designed to blast away any remaining resolve.  

I had always thought that keeping a positive mental attitude is what propels you through the tough times, consciously replacing negative thoughts with positive.  This was the day that I discovered a different facet beyond the positive which had more to do with continuing when I could find no positives whatsoever and all I wanted to do was give up.  Strangely it didn't feel particularly strong to realise this and continue, in fact it felt weak and egotistical not to stop.  All part of the mental process at the time I suppose. I did keep going to finish in well over five hours but it didn't feel like much of an achievement at the time, I was just relieved it was over.

That evening I knew that barring any major drama I would complete all seven days.  I arranged a leg massage with Vixx which helped a great deal; there were one or two areas which really benefited from the loosening up.  My statistician side kicked in and I worked out that although the previous two days finish times had both been well over five hours I still had a chance to average under five for all seven days as long as I had anything approaching a reasonable final run.  With my legs feeling so much more flexible the final day became a case of keeping things sensible and cruising to the finish.

Even writing this almost a week after the conclusion of events it feels difficult to throw any light upon lessons learned.  Continuing when body and mind felt on the edge of giving up doesn't feel like the success I would have expected.  More, as I mentioned, it feels a bit like having given in to ego, avoidance of shame, rather than any kind of heroic triumph.  Maybe that is a lesson; these things are everyday and prosaic, rather than the stuff of myth and legend, you just get it done or you don't and nothing much really changes either way.  I'm not a better person for having completed the challenge, nor would I have been a worse person for failing.

16th March 2015  Week at the Knees day 1  4:59:06  #64
17th March 2015  Week at the Knees day 2  4:49:44  #65
18th March 2015  Week at the Knees day 3  4:43:04  #66
19th March 2015  Week at the Knees day 4  4:45:00  #67
20th March 2015  Week at the Knees day 5  5:09:36  #68
21st March 2015  Week at the Knees day 6  5:27:31  #69
22nd March 2015 Week at the Knees day 7  4:51:26  #70

       Average for the seven days 4:57:55

Catching Up

With my marathon running stepping up a gear in terms of frequency if not pace I find I am getting behind with keeping this record up to date, this entry will therefore a brief summary of my significant runs between Quadzilla and Week at the Knees.

The English National Cross Country Champioships took place on the iconic Parliament Hill Fields course at Hampstead Heath in London.  The beauty of this event is that, as long as you are an official running club member, anyone can take part.  So in the senior men's event you have elite runners at the sharp end and then, 2000 or so places behind, old slowies like myself plodding round.  The course always seems to be an absolute mud-fest, which combined with some testing hills, makes for a tough run.  My own target in this kind of event is always quite simple; don't be last!  Having no more ambition than this allows me to take things quite steadily and enjoy the atmosphere as much as possible, though I do find it impossible to keep all competitiveness completely under control!

I was able to achieve my objective with over 100 places to spare, finishing 1886th out 2005 competitors completing the 12k event.

The following day we were at Pegwell Bay in Kent for the six hour Hugin Challenge, a 3.28 mile loop which was to be completed as many times as wished/possible within the time limit.  Many runners decided to stop once the marathon distance had been completed but my objective was to plod on for as long as I was able.  I was feeling a bit heavy legged after the muddy hills of the previous day and had a slight knee niggle caused by all the slipping about during the cross country so I was pleased to keep going and get to almost 30 miles before being timed out.  My favourite part of the day, though, was Mandy completing her first ever 20 mile run, even continuing after her official finish to make up the full distance!

A week later it was more muddy hills for multiple marathoner Anna's first event as a race director, the Mill Hill Marathon, established in order to raise funds for a local hospice in north London.  This was always going to be a relaxed affair which was just as well as the course was very hard consisting of four and a bit loops with a lot of deep mud and three significant climbs on each full loop.  I travelled with three club mates, all very experienced marathoners if not the speediest and our finishing times ranging from 5:41 to just under 7 hours attest to the nature of the course.  My legs were just about done by the finish of this one and I was secretly pleased to be first Reading Roadrunner home ahead of my old friendly running rival Pete, but don't tell anyone that, I wouldn't want him to think I was always trying to beat him or anything!

Next up was the Groundhog Track marathon, the event at which I set my PB last year.  105.5 laps of a standard running track.  Stupidly I thought that I might be in for a decent run at this event, the positive associations of last year overriding the reality of my much slower running currently.  I set out to run nine minute miles for as long as I could in the hope of getting under 4:15 even with some slower miles at the end.  My data shows that I was only seven seconds slower than my PB run at the 14 mile point.  Thereafter it all went very badly and it was a struggle to finish, particularly as my electronic lap counter started to malfunction and friends I was running with started pulling ahead in terms of official laps completed despite lapping at the same rate as myself: the wonders of modern technology!  It made little difference as any chance of a good time had long gone and this sort of development is good for mental toughness training.  I think!

22nd February 2015  The Hugin 6 hour Challenge  29.7 miles  5:53:50  #61
1st March 2015  Mill Hill Marathon    5:41:55  #62
7th March 2015  Groundhog Track Marathon   4:56:04  #63

Quadzilla II

My second Quadzilla did not go to plan at all.  Despite recent evidence that I wasn't in good shape at the moment I still believed I could beat last year's cumulative time of 18:12:35 and had the idea that a sub 4:30 was possible on all four days.  However I was brought firmly back down to earth within a minute of the start of day one.  My travel up to the event was without the drama of last year I arrived relaxed and in plenty of time.  The only troubling thing on my mind was that my quadriceps were still sore after an attempt at a medium paced tempo run at Newbury parkrun on the previous Saturday.

Any confidence I had about the four days took a hit as I pulled up the blind to reveal the snowy lakeside scene on the morning of day one...

and I was immediately concerned about staying warm enough.  We gathered for the official photo and then proceeded to the start line. As soon as we began moving I knew I was in trouble; my legs were stiff and did just not want to run.  I slowed down in order to let them ease into their work gradually but the dead feeling would just not pass.  Well within the first hour I knew this was going to be a five hour struggle and so it proved, the misery only exacerbated by my slowly freezing fingers.  By the time I finished my digits were lifeless lumps of flesh, all but useless.  Unzipping a pocket to remove and use my room key took several frustrating, painful minutes.

I had hoped that day two would reflect last year's experience when things seemed to grow ever easier with each passing day.  No such luck this time.  The snow of the first day had gone but in its place a biting, icy wind cut through clothing and chilled to the bone.  I took more care of my fingers, warming them in my armpits frequently to ensure there was no repeat of yesterday's painful thawing to follow.  This was another miserable day on which the best that could be said is that I kept going and did finish.  Eventually.

Day three was the best of the four, despite almost being reduced to tears when it started to rain minutes before I was due to venture outside for the run.  Luckily the drizzle soon relented and the feared soaking did not materialise.  In the last three laps I somehow managed something resembling running and actually caught and passed fellow runners to register my only sub five hour finish of the event.  The final day was the toughest of the lot despite an improvement in temperature and Mandy joining me to provide a much needed boost to my positivity.  The stiff, dead-legged feeling returned with a vengeance and for a while I thought that a sub six hour run was beyond me but I managed to find some mental resolve and focus on churning out sub 15 minute miles.

Quadzilla is a brilliant event, the support of the organisers, fellow runners and their supporters is an uplifting and wonderful thing.  I was lulled into thinking it was easy after breezing through the final three-quarters of it last year but that complacency certainly bit back at me this time.  Looking back it is clear I wasn't at the same level this year.  December was badly hit by illness and a lot of hard-slogged miles in January have definitely taken toll.  If I am to get through the demanding schedule I have set for myself in 2015 I need to be a lot brighter about my training, managing running fatigue through cross-training and being far more aware of tiredness levels.  I quite easily forget that I am in my fifties now and cannot just get through by determination alone, though that IS what got me through these four days I now think that I was perilously close to injury which could have thwarted my plans in a major way.  More brain and less brawn is required, and for the moment, any thought of achieving certain times is to be avoided in favour of just getting them done.  It's going to take a lot to get me to book a marathon in the winter months from now on!

5th February 2015  Quadzilla Day 1    5:09:46   #57
6th February 2015  Quadzilla Day 2    5:16:46   #58
7th February 2015  Quadzilla Day 3    4:54:50   #59
8th February 2015  Quadzilla Day 4    5:35:57   #60
    

Wind Chill

So, another weekend, another couple of Traviss and Rachel's excellent Saxons, Vikings and Normans events.  This couple seem on the face of it to be friendly, supportive and genuine people but there is a dark side.  In reality they are peddling wares to hopeless addicts and know just what makes a multiple marathoner tick; brilliant medals, is that why you run?  Have a look at these precious beauties, these chunky, colourful, collectible works of art.  Or is it perhaps the reward of the goody bag at the finish line?  Here we are then; chocolate, biscuits, crisps, beer, cider, go ahead, don't feel guilty, you've earned it!  What's that you say?  You're a teetotal vegan?  No problem, we'll make sure you get a suitably tailored bag of plenty.  What about a fantastic, laid-back atmosphere in which all participants offer support and encouragement?  Comes as standard.  And if that wasn't enough they come up with the SVN club.  A league table of runners based on mileage completed at their events.  In truth the medals and goody bags aren't an incentive for me, I would still run marathons without them being on offer. The atmosphere, although brilliant to experience, isn't what keeps me coming back.  Part of me wants these things to be be really tough and I take a perverse delight in the isolation of the inner battle that I find necessary.  A league table, though, is something I just cannot resist.  They have located my weakness and got their hook well and truly embedded.

On the agenda for this weekend was another couple of marathons consisting of four out-and-backs on each day.  In common with Martello a couple of weeks ago the out sections were into the wind, which meant the return portions were much easier, however, the difference was that it was so much colder.  We stood huddled for the pre-race brief as the vicious, relentless north Kent wind cut through our many layers of clothing, driving chill into the bones.  It was a relief to get under way and as I settled into the run I reckoned that I would be able to keep a reasonable pace for the first three 'laps' and then grit my teeth to hang on for a decent time.  When I ran this course last June I managed to register a 3:59 and I had secret hopes of getting close to that time on both days.  In common with everyone involved I was finding running into the teeth of the wind very tough, the cold draining my resolve.  On the third time out the right side of my face was going numb, I had my hat pulled down and my buff pulled up leaving only my eyes exposed but just couldn't stop feeling ever colder.  Half way to the turn around point in the shadow of Reculver Castle I slowed to a walk as I just couldn't make myself keep going.  I felt like a complete failure. The self-doubt which used to plague me during marathons returned with a vengeance.  I hadn't encountered this for almost a year and it was tough to cope with.

Slowing to a walk just meant that the misery of the cold grew ever more intense and combined with my mental deterioration just moving forward became a battle of will power.  The fact that I was genuinely hoping for a good time increased my feeling of uselessness, every walked step just made a greater mockery of my hopes.  I turned for the last leg on my last legs as Paul came charging in to finish in 3:27 recording a personal best despite the conditions.  The final leg took over 90 minutes and I had to put in a bit of effort to finish under the five hour mark, an hour and three seconds slower than last time I ran the course.  The best that could be said was that at least I did finish!

This was Greg's 100th marathon and celebrations were planned for that evening at a pub next to my hotel.  I fully intended to go along to offer congratulations but I got into such a negative mindset about my running, and more, that going out seemed impossible.  Instead I sat in on my own feeling sorry for myself.  I kept telling myself that it really didn't matter, it was a tough day and I had done well to finish in the circumstances, all of which is true, but I couldn't get away from the feeling of failure.  The prospect of doing it all again the next day was not something I was feeling at all enthusiastic about.

Day two was still cold but the wind speed had dropped.  However even a slightly less cold repeat of yesterday's experience was not in the least bit appealing.  Everyone was in the same boat though, and there was a feeling of camaraderie forged through shared suffering, although the hangover from my evening of doubts did have me feeling a little peripheral to proceedings.  This was entirely down to my own negative internal machinations and tends to be something of a default position for me at such times.  During the first leg I chatted with Melanie who seemed as disappointed with her running as I was with mine, we had both run ultra distances the previous week, her 45 miles trumping me by over 10 miles, and agreed that we were under-estimating how much that had taken out of us.  This was another tough run but luckily my own toughness level was slightly higher and my resolve to beat yesterday's time kept me focused.  As progress was made this became a target of sub 4:50 and in the last mile I decided that I could get a 4:45:xx if I really pushed and somehow I mustered something resembling a sprint over the final section to register 4:45:54.

Whilst it was disappointing to be so much slower than I had hoped, on reflection these were testing weather conditions, I had run four marathons and one muddy, hilly ultra in a sixteen day period and I am still gaining fitness after the tribulations of Autumn.  The mental difficulties were initially due to expectations getting too high too soon but it was good to be tested in such a way and still get the second run completed when it was just about the last thing I wanted to do that morning.  In conclusion I probably gained a fair bit both mentally and physically in getting through the weekend.  I also gained a few places in that SVN league table... 

24th January 2015  Viking Coastal day one  4:59:08  #55
25th January 2015  Viking Coastal day two  4:45:54   #56