Sunday 10 September 2017

A lap of Mont Blanc

Well, this was it. All the training so far this year, all the many hours on a treadmill, the 2,000+ km of running, the 60,000+ metres of ascent led to here. And here I was, standing far too far from the start line at the Place du Triangle de l'Armitie.

The journey to get there hadn't been without its ups and downs (both metaphorically and physically), but I was here and I was feeling fit and ready to go. The weather had been pretty rubbish and, with snow and extremely low temperatures forecast, the organisers made a last minute change to the course – we would no longer go over the random boulder field just inside Italy and we were due to make a “direct ascent” from Col des Montets missing out the Tete aux Vents

From the start I was pushing reasonably hard to get ahead of the crowds before the first climb after Les Houches. I caught and passed Caroline McKay as we ran into Les Houches, before I settled into a steady but strong rhythm going up and over the first climb to Saint Gervais.
Feeling good, the crowds here buoyed me on, with countless high 5's as it appeared the whole town had lined the streets; and after a quick stop for a bowl of salty noodle soup (the first of very many) I was on my way again.
 
On the climb out of Les Houches
Les Contamines came and went, with the realisation that I'd just passed Sally McRae and Amy Sproston (2 of the very elite women's field) - so I thought I must have been doing OK. 

Then the climb up to Col de Croix du Bonhomme which always seems to be a low point for me, this time being no different; but the reasoning for that is always the same - fuel. 
I was trialling a new sports drink ("Maurten", if you're interested) which is particularly hard to dissolve as it's so concentrated. The 2 bottles that I'd pre-mixed in Chamonix from the start had gone, but now part way up this second climb I realised that I'd spent the last couple of hours drinking only water and the fuel was just a gloopy sticky lump at the bottom of my soft flask.
And it was here that the wheels began to fall off; not even 50km into 170. I'd been unknowingly digging ever deeper into my energy reserves to maintain my pace, and in a 100 miler that's unsustainable. Arriving at Les Chapieux I was bang on my target time, crossing the Col de la Seine (the next checkpoint just 10km and 1,000m away) I was 15 minutes down.

It was cold coming over the Col, really cold. But I was still one of the few runners in shorts, as that’s how I prefer to run. At the Lac Combal aid station runners were coming in shivering and, just as I was leaving, the medics rushed to the assistance of someone who had collapsed and was in a particularly bad way.

One relatively small climb and I was on the steep technical descent down into Courmayeur, where I was hopeful that the organisers buses had managed to successfully transport Keziah. I was particularly careful on the descent but still managed to kick a root which sent me flying headfirst towards a sheer drop! Careful Rich, there’s a long way to go yet.
Through the melee of suporters, picking up my drop bag I was elated to see that Keziah had indeed made it. I grabbed some pasta and set about changing into warmer, drier clothes; I dumped the Maurten and swapped it for some bags of Mountain Fuel that I had as backup. Keziah went to rinse the congealed lump of sports drink out of my soft flasks; she commented that it must’ve been really cold out there having found the only sink in the gents toilets, not sure what that meant…
Despite it being 7am, I thought a quick 10 minute power nap was in order so I found a quiet corner and closed my eyes. Seemingly almost immediately Keziah said it was time to go, so I hauled on my race pack again and off I went.
 
Trotting through the streets of Courmayeur
In spite of the extended stop at Courmayeur, I had no energy climbing up to Rifugio Bertone; the damage that I’d done to myself from running the first half under-fuelled was irreparable, so I knew from here on in any times were out of the window and I was just battling to finish.
By Rifugio Bonatti a storm had rolled up the valley, bringing an icy wind and snow. The waterproof trousers and jacket (a rather lovely birthday present from K’s parents) were on – and much needed.
With more and more time slipping away, I was starting to get seriously cold and my head went too; leaving me contemplating a DNF at the Arnouvaz checkpoint. The only reason I didn’t pull out here was the lack of phone signal, and I knew that Keziah would kill me if I dropped out without at least discussing it with her.
At this point the organisers weren't allowing anyone to leave the checkpoint unless they were wearing everything they had with them. I put on everything item of clothing I had, including the emergency rubber gloves (don't ask), and there was nothing left for it but to head off into the clouds and climb through the snow storm into Switzerland. The trail down to La Fouly is normally great fun – 15km of steady descent – but this time I was hating it. I was cold, wet, miserable and I’d had enough.
As soon as I had service on my phone, I texted Keziah to say that I was pulling the plug and getting the bus back to Chamonix. She replied straight away that she was waiting at Champex (the next checkpoint after La Fouly) and that we should talk about it there – I checked my spreadsheet and that was at least 4 hours away with the speed that I was running, there was no way I was going to make that.
 
Feeling the cold on the climb up Grand Col Ferret
Whilst I sat shivering in La Fouly, trying to warm myself up with bowls of noodles, cheese, biscuits and any other food I could force inside me; Keziah negotiated the organiser’s buses again and met me in La Fouly… I may have had a 30 minute snooze while I was waiting too. My coach, Donnie Campbell, and the outstanding Dave Murdoch both called me for much needed pep talks; not sure who told them I was struggling though……
So, buoyed by seeing Keziah and another change of clothes, I set off down the hill towards Champex. My UTMB was still on.

The rest of the race passed in a bit of a blur, with the headtorch coming out for the start of the second night just after Champex. The climbs became a familiar pattern of unzipping various layers as I got too warm, before promptly zipping them all back up again for the decents.
I was able to press on, making reasonable progress now, and finishing times started creeping back into my head. I figured out that I could probably still finish in around 36 hours, which I worked out would be 6:30am on Sunday; so I took the conscious decision then to back the pace right off and take my time through the checkpoints. I’d finished 2015’s TDS in the middle of the night, and decided that with all of the negative from this race that I wanted a daylight finish and the rapturous welcome back into Chamonix that the UTMB is famous for.

The UTMB had one more final sting in the tail waiting for me though. The “direct ascent” from Col des Montets to La Flegere, was nothing such. I left Vallorcine with enough food and water for a 700m climb; what we actually had was a 500m climb, then a 300m crazily technical descent (pretty much all the way down to Argentiere) and then another 500m climb to the ski station. I ran out of food and water on the final climb, nearly having a massive sense of humour failure, but trusting in the reflective flags marking the course towards Chamonix. I’d started hallucinating by this point too, seeing people and animals coming towards us, and I don’t know how many times I ‘saw’ La Flegere but it was just shapes in the trees. That's not happened to me before, it was interesting to say the least.

On the last descent I got a bit of speed up, overtaking about 20 people. Regardless of the rest of the race I was going to have a strong finish.
I hit the outskirts of Chamonix and could hear the cheers of the crowds, the announcer on the PA system. Everyone cheering and waving me in; it was brilliant. Karen and George spotted me just before the final short loop to the finish straight, before I managed to spot Keziah nearly jumping over the barriers to give me a sweaty hug.
I trotted under the finishing arch 39 hours and 41 minutes after I’d started under it, punching the air with the relief that I’d done it – and I had another gilet to add to my fledgling collection.
From 2537 starters, 849 didn't finish. But I did, in 710th, and I couldn't have been happier.
 
Having dreamed about this since 2014, I'm a UTMB finisher!
The gilet will be coveted, as my 2015 TDS one is still – but it will be more of a reminder of the journey it took to get there.

So what did I learn from all of this:
Don’t try anything new on race day – I’d used the Maurten drink in training, mixing it at home, but hadn’t practiced using it whilst refilling bottles on the fly. Doing some research, I think the high mineral content in the Chamonix region water may have stopped it dissolving too. I’ll keep trying with it, as when it works it really does work, but will have to look into maybe having some pre-mixed in drop bags around courses (and have some trusty Mountain Fuel in reserve!).
If you don’t respect a 100-miler, it’ll kick your ass – I’d cockily said at the start that I was planning on finishing on Saturday (given the delayed start, this would’ve been 29 ½ hours). I’m confident that I could run the UTMB in under 30 hours; but maybe I should’ve focussed more on taking it steadily through the race, staying more in the moment, rather than worrying about finishing times before I’d even started.
If in doubt, EAT! – if you’re lacking energy, eat. If you’re feeling tired, eat. If you’re feeling down, eat. If you’re feeling sick, eat. If you’re in any doubt, eat! You’d think I’d know this by now, but fuelling is still the weakest part of my running; ultras can be as much of an eating competition as they are a test of endurance.
When things don’t go to plan (and they won’t), don’t give up – Less than a third of the way in when things started to go wrong, I knew I still had a finish in me. It was always going to be tough and I’m so glad that I was stubborn enough to carry on when I wanted to DNF. I’m also eternally grateful to Keziah for not giving up on me (and for snitching on me to Donnie and Dave, prompting their phone calls…).

So what’s the plan for the rest of the year?
Some rest. Getting back into a little bit of mountain biking (a week in Spain and then a 24 hour endurance race). And then one more race to end the year.
After that, it’ll be an extended rest while the plans for 2018 are formulated, concocted and agreed… watch this space.

Friday 7 July 2017

West Highland Way and 2017 so far

So, despite promising myself that I'd keep this blog; I've failed spectacularly.
I'm going to blame being busy at work and moving house... the plus point being that we've managed to buy a lovely new grown ups house with trails from the door. All we need now is for some grown ups!

So, 2017 seems to be going pretty well so far. I'd hoped to run the Highland Fling in April to make up for my disappointment with my time last year, but I was offshore for the race so had to chose something else.
The Kielder 80k seemed to fit the bill. It was a great event run by High Terrain Events, with some seriously tough terrain and a field of some very talented runners.
I managed to hold on for 3rd place finishing in 8h20m, which I was pretty pleased with.
3rd Place at the Kielder 80k
I was fairly broken by the end of it though, mostly due to not fuelling properly during the race.
I have issues with my nose (I can barely breath through it), which makes chewing on the move difficult; as a result I quite often just don't eat. I try quite a lot of different things while I'm on my long runs, but I'm yet to find something that really works for me.
And I knew I needed to get my fuel right if I was to have any chance of doing well in my next event... the West Highland Way Race.

I'd been targeting this race ever since I crewed for someone in my first season of ultra running in 2015. I wanted one of the prized goblets for myself.

Keziah and I drove down to Glasgow on the Friday morning before the West Highland Way, having booked a B&B near the start line to allow me to get a few hours sleep. 
11pm came and it was time to head to Milngavie for registration. It was good to catch up with a few familiar faces, but I was conscious that I was going to be on my feet for a long time to come so made my excuses before sloping off back to car for another last minute snooze.

By the time the pre-race brief came I was still feeling remarkably relaxed - subdued even. Sean warned us there would be weather (and boy, was there some weather to come!), then I made my way to front of the mass of runners and waited for 1am and the start of the race.

Before I knew it we were off and heading into the darkness of Mugdock Park. I was making a concerted effort to keep the pace easy in these early sections, aware that pushing too early would mean blowing up further down the line.
(Thanks to Debbie Martin-Consani for the pacing guidance - not that she knows she did anything! I stole and tweaked her Fling times, as she's renowned for her superb pacing skills)

Drymen came and went, just about bang on schedule, with Keziah and Kirsty throwing a fresh water bottle and some food at me. Then the short climb up and over Conic hill already had me catching and overtaking people - and I still felt like I was taking it fairly easily. I was feeling pretty good at this point and happy with how the race was going.

The checkpoint at Balmaha was buzzing when I got to it. I spotted Keziah in the crowds and refreshed my food and water supplies, downing a lukewarm cup of coffee as I walked through the carpark (my diva demands - sorry race notes - had asked for the coffee like this, so I could drink it quickly).
The next section of the WHW is one of my least favourite. I'm not sure why, as it's a really pretty bit of trail tracking along the shore of Loch Lomond, but it seems to consist of lots of pointless climbs just to descend again straight away. Anyway, I was still feeling good and actually enjoyed the section - catching a few more runners before gliding into the next checkpoint at Rowardennan.
Onwards uneventfully to Inversnaid where the superstar that is Ruth Howie was waiting with my dropbag. This section takes in the new "Low Route" which is massive improvement over the old fireroad "High Route". A sweaty hug from Ruth (I was sweaty, not Ruth!), then a quick wipe down with an antiseptic wipe from one of the first aiders (I'd tripped on a root earlier), and I was on my way again.

Approaching the bothy at the end of the Loch, I started having thoughts that my Salomon Sense 6's might not have enough grip as the trail was starting to become muddier. 
Just as I was about to pull my phone out to text Keziah and ask for my S-Lab Soft Grounds; BANG! Down I went; slipping in some mud and landing heavily on a rock on my left knee.
I tried to jump straight back up, but I couldn't. I could tell that I'd hurt myself and took a few moments on the ground before wobbling back to my feet. My knee started stiffening straight away, I knew there and then that any hopes of a finish were fading let alone the fast time that I hoped for.
Hobbling into Beinglas Farm, I switched shoes and took on some more food. I was still able to run in short bursts at this point, but I was putting more pressure on my right leg to take the strain off the injured left.
More and more people were overtaking me at this point, as the running became slower and I walked more, including the first lady who came flying past me on the rollercoaster section north of Crianlarich. A few positive words of encouragement passed in either direction before heading into Auchtertyre.
This was the last check point that the wonderful Keziah and Kirsty were seeing me at, before passing over support duties to the marvelous Ali and Jonny.

By this point, I could tell I was moving much slower - by now both knees were sore, one from the fall and one from being forced to compensate - and I had a choice to make. The easy choice would be to accept that the race wasn't going to plan and drop out; the difficult choice was to keep going to Fort William.
Go hard, or go home - I wasn't going home just yet!

When I eventually made it to Jelly Baby Hill, there was almost no running. Murdo (what a star waiting out in that weather!) asked whether I was going to finish before he permitted me my jelly baby; I said I was, picked a red one and I headed off towards Rannoch Moor.

By now, the weather that Sean had mentioned had closed in. I wasn't dressed for the speed I was running (I'll normally run in short shorts, even in the snow); but the 50mph winds and horizontal rain meant I was nigh on hypothermic by the time I reached Glencoe.
Thoughts of a DNF started to enter my mind but I had the presence of mind to head straight for the cafe for a warm up. Gavin Bussey was there at the front of the queue and called across to see if I wanted a hot drink... between him, Ali and Jonny I soon had a down jacket, some hot coffee and a cheese toastie working their warming magic on me. The race team must've been a little concerned about me too, as Lorna McMillan who was marshalling came up to the cafe to check on me and to make sure I had someone with me if I was going to carry on.

The next sections passed in a bit of a blur. Jonny accompanying me to Kinlochleven and the Ali until the end.
The Lairig Mor was almost unbearable, with a strong headwind and my pace being reduced to a shuffle; my right knee was now giving out due the extra pressure put on it by trying to save my injured left knee. Darkness fell as we left Lundavra and I was in a pretty bad way; Ali trying to forcefeed me banana while all I wanted to do was curl up on the side of trail and sleep.
On the Lairig Mor - looking happy, but just wishing that it would all end
After a seemingly endless descent, Braveheart carpark appeared with Keziah, Kirsty and Jonny all waiting to walk it in to the finish with me (well, they walked, I was more of a stagger-hobble by then). And finally the Leisure Centre arrived and I fell through the finish arch 24 hours and 44 minutes after leaving Milngavie.

I collapsed into a chair and almost immediately fell asleep mid-sentence... I was totally spent.

I got my goblet, but was obviously well away from my sub 18 hour target - but the race will be there for years to come, I'll be back.
You may think that this report sounds negative, but all in it was a great experience; I'm immensely proud of myself for carrying on, when the easy thing to do would've been to quit. And regardless of any of that I wouldn't have finished anything without the unbelievable support of Keziah, Kirsty, Ali and Jonny.
The dream team
2 weeks later, as I sit writing this, the swelling has gone down and my knees look just about normal. I'm back offshore on the treadmill, easing myself back into it - just one more big training block to go before UTMB!

Sunday 12 February 2017

The First Test of the Season

Nearly time for my first race of the season. I'm not counting the Aonach Mor Uphill, as that was just an underprepared snot-fest... a bit of fun, if you will.

Just under 2 weeks until the Glentress Trail marathon. I'm really looking forward to this event for a number of reasons.
Firstly, it's being put on by the lovely folk at High Terrain events (https://www.highterrainevents.co.uk/) so it's sure to be a friendly, well organised event.
Secondly, I've mountain biked countless times around Glentress and I think it will be a great place to run (especially with much of the race route being on MTB trails).
And thirdly, it'll be good to test how my fitness is progressing after my winter break. I had a great season last year, so it was important to take some time away from training, but I've come back in 2017 raring to go. There were some good runs while I've been home, and I've been hitting the gym and treadmill really hard whilst I've been offshore... so I guess we'll just have to see what happens!

Monday 9 January 2017

It's been a while (aka looking back on 2016 and planning for 2017)

So, it's been a while... I promised myself that when I started this blog it would be a diary for myself of my adventures in running; if anyone else cares to read it, I'm more than happy for them to share the experiences with me - but it's primarily a repository for my own memory.

Many things happened in 2016 that meant I didn't commit the time to keeping the diary... the biggest change being me starting a new job. I now work on an offshore oil platform in the North Sea; working 2 weeks offshore and then having 3 weeks leave.
This led to me being definitely less than efficient in my training, as I've never run on a treadmill before. I ran a few interval sessions but without any real purpose.
Offshore life takes its toll on training

This lack of training, along with skipping too many of my long runs whilst onshore (due to various other reasons), resulted in me towing the line at the 2016 Highland Fling completely under prepared.
I set off at a reasonable clip, and felt OK; however by Beinglas the wheels had completely fallen off and I ended up with a long hobble/run/walk to the finish in Tyndrum - managing a disappointing but still fairly decent time of 9h46m.
At the finish, I chatted to Donnie Campbell who had just broken the course record and subsequently become the 2016 British Trail Champion - a seed had been sown. The following week I had another chat with Donnie and decided that we'd work together to see what we could get out of my running.

Fast forward to July and August (via many hours on a treadmill and lots of single legged squats!) where I managed 9th place at the Scafell Pike Marathon and then my first ever podium (2nd place) at the Devil of the Highlands. The Devil had been one of my best performances in 2015, but under Donnie's guidance I'd managed some silverware along with a 20 minute PB.
Things were falling into place!
2nd place at the Devil - and a 20 min PB

After being unsuccessful in the UTMB ballot, my "A" race for 2016 was Lizzie Hawker's brand new Ultra Tour Monte Rosa. The race itself was to be a test of my new found fitness and a chance to explore somewhere new. My performance in that race is probably due a post all of its own, but I had to pull out at around 50km (having sat in the top 10) due to cramping and a lack of fuel.

Wanting to put the disappointment of UTMR firmly behind me, I signed up for the Wooler Trail Marathon as a season finale in November. This looked to be a great new race, with a strong field and, again, a chance to explore somewhere new. Despite the freezing conditions and feeling like I had no strength on the climbs, I managed to pull off another 2nd place - I also finished 10 minutes faster than on Scafell Pike, even though the course felt tougher.
Another 2nd place, this time at Wooler

So 2016, a year of highs and lows... once I'd found a training system that works for me while I'm offshore.
The early bird catches some hill reps!

Planning for 2017 will be along more of the same lines. Some long stuff mixed in with some really long stuff; I'm hoping to do my first 100 miler this year.
This years races will be (or will hopefully be...!):

  • Started the year with a reasonable performance in the Aonach Mor Uphill Race on New Year's day
  • Glentress Trail Marathon
  • Selkirk Trail Ultra Marahon (only just an 'ultra' at 45km!)
  • I was fortunate in the West Highland Way Race ballot, so that's currently the 'A' race performance wise
  • I'm also hopeful of a UTMB place this year, so that would be the 100 mile box ticked
I may try and fit a 100km race in too around April/May to help me build up towards West Highland Way.

So, a big (and exciting) year ahead. I'm hoping to get to explore some more new places, and expand my horizons as part of my running.
One thing for sure though, is that I'll make a more determined effort to record it all here.
Watch this space!