Beachy Head - A marathon run

This was my first marathon. My goal was a sub 5 hours, I streaked across the line in ... 5:00
So, I have my line in the sand for next year ;)

Briefly, the day was perfect. Weather cool, pressure high, wind almost still at the beginning but gaining in force just in time to give us a boost over The Seven Sisters.

I'd set out intending to hit the half way at 2:15, I was about 5 minutes over but feeling good and secretly hoping to 'run' all the way.
Toward 18 miles there is a stepped rise, I started my bobbing run up but soon found a dreadful cramp start to take hold low down on my left quad - this was to stop me in my tracks while I massaged it and pleaded with it to let me continue. Once at the top I was able to run untroubled but it was to resurface on the second flight of steps and after on the steeper climbs of the Seven Sisters. The cramping was probably down to a number of things; in no particular order: low salt - despite 4 S-Caps, muscle fatigue (what do you think??) and being a bit shy of long run training.

All said, I had a great day. I pulled in in a time I would have expected and, unlike on other occasions where I push too far, no injuries save some discomfort in a ligament behind the knee.

There's some pics if anyone fancies a look. Yes, I know I look like I could have tried harder...tell that to my wife and boys who were there to witness my deathly slow final ascent - no man's children should ever have to endure that! - and witness my old man shuffle for the three successive days.

Image to come

CLICK HERE

Some more here:
http://gallery.sussexsportphotography.com/index.tlx?albumid=183410


Bib number 247 in search box.

I had a great time before, during and to a lesser extent, after this 'race'. I met up with my family in Eastbourne, forumites from my two online haunts. I finally ran a marathon after 'posturing' long enough.
One thing I intend doing, after being processed by this event, is to marshal an a race. It would be an opportunity to give something back to a sport I have benefitted from and to witness the mind-boggling array of humanity that a race of this distance lays bare.

Go run a marathon.

Beachy Head Marathon

I entered this event some 12 years or so back. I didn't train for it and, when the day arrived, I didn't run. I wasted a valuable place and pushed it to the back of my mind.
With my recent proven return to fitness I found myself, back in May this year, looking for an autumn goal. There was never any doubt: Beachy Head was calling me.
Well, here we are, 3 weeks away from my debut marathon. Training is going well: I'm running 6 times a week, I ran a 30 miler at the end of July, I've kept injuries at bay and have started to run with greater economy. All this gives me belief: I will finish and I expect to attack my goal of sub 5 hours. (Beachy Head being a very testing off road 26 miles or so.)
My plan is to get to the half way point in 2:15 leaving 2:45 to bring it all on home.
I'm really looking forward to this event. Don't expect too many pictures, I may have my hands full!

Trail Les Terrasses du lodèvois

http://traillesterrassesdulodevois.blogspot.com/


I hadn't anticipated this new event popping up on my doorstep; I'm compelled to take part even it's a mere 3 weeks before Beachy Head's Marathon.

It is a very big ask for me at 45km and 2000m ascent.

Well..it seems that some administrative difficulties caused this event to be postponed until next spring. At least I'll have a chance to get fit for it.

Run to the Hills: Clayton 30 Mile Downland Challenge.

Barely 24 hours have passed since I put my shoes on the first rung of the ultra running step ladder.

Barely 24 hours ago, as I approached the turn at 15 miles of an out and back trail, did I realise I would fulfill my ambition of finishing something I'd started.

The sun, its passively aggressive stance and limited shade, and the day's humidity would all play their part in a difficult day on the South Downs Way (SDW) in Sussex.


I, curiously, found myself more concerned with finishing The Beachy Head marathon later this year: it is a marathon after all... With little planning or specified training I found myself shoulder to shoulder with the other 100 plus souls looking for their own stories facing 30 miles (48km) at the height of Britain's summer.

My aim for the run is a sub 6 hour finish and not to get too sloppy so, hydration and nutrition are likely to play their part.

The route is to follow the SDW from Clayton east to Southease and return the same way.

The starter sends us away: a tough climb up to the escarpment confronts us which, given the humidity level soon has me losing my valuable fluid.



As usual (I think I can say that now...), I find comrades eager to join me for short stretches. Stories are exchanged, good lucks offered. I love this sport.

As for the run, I felt good through to 15 miles and remembered how a few short years back I'd been laid waste by the half marathon distance needing 24 hours bed rest with a bucket close by, just in case! Times have changed.



The day was hot at 25/26°C and clammy-close-sticky; I was eventually to suffer some despite S-Caps and gels. I'd opted for a litre back-pack seeing there were 3+ water stations - 12, 24, and 36km; as long as I arrived hydrated and drank well at each aid station I should be alright; I'd already ignored the urge to go lite after looking at the 500ml bottle-carrying competition. I can envy their water efficiency but have learned that my needs are greater than most runners and sensibly stuck to my pack.

From the off I was at the back of the field, running cautiously with a true goal of a finish. I estimate that there must be some who had gone off too quickly so I might run them down if I can hold it together. Where I got that confidence from is beyond me but I was confident and carried a little smile most of the way.

So, to the half way turn around. I whip off the hydration pack, drink a load, re-fill and head down the reverse trail. We're greeted to a 3km climb which I opt to run as I don't feel like losing my momentum. Over this stage of 12km I run down 12 positions to one loss; not bad! This point however is where I realise that although I'll finish it might not be pretty. There's another long climb at here back on to the escarpment, my core temperature had leapt up, the water I'd just taken on left my nauseated but I knew I needed to get an S-cap and gel in. I dropped to a march get the food in and waited it out. By the time I'd covered the steepest part I was starting to feel the ship right itself and was glad of the knowledge I'd heard so often from other distance runners - expect to have low periods: try to keep going, your mood and demeanor will improve. They did!

Once on the top of the hills again I found running suited me again, albeit slow. Around this time, 5h 20 I noted that I'd hit the marathon distance and afforded a grin: I was out there, in no-man's-land neither impressive or trying to impress just running.

I cared little for my lowly position. I was simply elated to be out beyond the marathon at last, to have passed a couple of low points without caving in, to have stayed sensible in regards to nutrition and hydration and to have got it about right.

The run in from Ditchling Beacon was a formality; mostly descent then a steep drop back into Clayton with a lap of the sports field to finish. My brother clapped me over the line unaware of the emotional impact of my effort. He didn't notice the tear trying to free itself from behind my eyes and probably mistook my silence, as the lump in my throat became too much, for fatigue.

I finished 92nd from 108 with a time of 6h 18m.

24 hours on I am happy to admit this meant a lot to me.

Opportunity knocks..

I'll be back in the UK in a wee while and it would appear there's a run with my name on it..

30 Mile Downland Challenge

27 July 2008

This run will be my longest to date. I intend taking it slow so as to 'enjoy' it.
It takes place along the South Downs Way from Clayton down toward Rodmell and back again. I've run this section before....long ago so there'll be few surprises other than my own limitations.

I will set the scene in case I stumble: I've had a bit of the old trouble for a couple of weeks - PF in the right foot - but it seems to be on the mend so...why not?

I'll get back after the run, hopefully with some pics and a story of moderate success!!

What to do.

Taking stock, a month or so now after The Trans Aubrac run, I am looking for my next event...
This needs to be a sensible 'target', by that I mean something testing vis-a-vis my training and not clearly impossible as with The UTA last month.
Well, I've long wanted to run the Beachy Head marathon (BHM) and even got as far as entering it some 10 years ago before crying off with an opportune cold. Maybe now is the time to have a go. The distance is certainly attainable; the challenge I've set is formidable: a sub 5 hour finish. I am going to be in a genuine challenge and running in my old home town: I'm already getting excited.

The application is in the post!

Disclaimer:
I don't discount running another event in the meantime...BHM is at the end of October and...the flesh is weak ;)

The Ultra Trans Aubrac

The day of my first ultra arrived!

The day got off to a good start. Alarms sounding at 2:30 am, I woke easily and headed downstairs for a coffee and a banana. We were soon in the car with a couple of hours ahead of us. I chatted tirelessly as Ruth listened. She still seemed sleepy; maybe she had less adrenalin on the go than me....

Our route in took us over the second stage of the run; it soon became apparent we were in trouble regarding the gun time. We hit snow, cloud and ice. We dropped to 20 mph progress and blew away any chance of a leisurely registration: it was to be mad!

We arrived with 5 minutes to go. I grabbed my bag and check I had all; Ruth pinned my number to it and, with the race already started I was off in 'hot' pursuit!! (Lesson learned!!!!!)

I was to start at the back and pretty much stay there throughout. The first 5k came and went. I recall holding back from trying to catch the rest; there were a few around me but we were well dropped in truth. I recall also having to pinch myself; I was here, in the dark, well equipped and running my first ultra. I was loving it. Further I had regular meets with Ruth along the route to look forward to.

The run was in 4 stages: 22.7km, 22.8km, 33.6km and 21.4km. 1500m ascent over the first two stages, 1500 over the last two.

Less than an hour into the run the sun came up, in huge contrast to the previous week's weather. A magnificent sign. The temperature was to climb from 2°C to 12°C or so. I have no complaints there. Things were set up for the realization of a dream!


The previous week of foul weather had left many parts muddy but on the whole, up to 15k, I was able to avoid the worst and hoped to find, as we climbed, less and less standing water. I have no idea why I believed that might be the case and after playing a fool, avoiding what I could in an effort to remain in my sanitized bubble, I found myself facing a track with no choices!! In I went...as I should have at the beginning. From here on I was to find streams, mud, slime to greet me on the ascents and descents as well as further on in the forest stages. Despite these difficulties I was running the downs and flats and adopting a pacey walk up the inclines. I felt good. I had the whole day to do this thing and I had good equipment and supplies.

The drop into Laguiole was particularly daunting but I 'popped' out at the end and slipped into Laguiole for a change of kit and some welcome snacks at the aid station. I'd gone by a couple of chaps over the last 5km and felt good to go as I headed out for the next stage of 22km!





A note to what I took regarding nutrition. I kept it simple: I had 2.5 litres of water in the back-pack, I had biscuits, gels and fruit paste bars. I took an S-cap on the hour for the first 3 hours.

Arrival: Laguiole

I'm not going to pretend that, as I left the aid station, with the climb to the highest point on the course that I was confident of finishing 100km. Perhaps this doubt would be significant.

The climb was of such a slope that I found it difficult judging when to walk and when to run. We would climb some 300m in the 5km or so and I was starting to feel the gravity of my task. Three weeks back I'd made 30km. That had been tough: I had no right being here.

We would soon hit the first forest section. I'd run this over and over in my head and expected shady, soft under foot, rolling terrain. Oh boy!! It was a quagmire; cut by streams and rivers, smeared with mud; glorious mud. And snow. I'm not complaining: the others managed the same crap. The others popped out the other side and vanished onto the next stage. I was to suffer.

ROAD CROSSING 35km

I met Ruth at a road crossing at about 35km. I'd re-taken the three back markers around me and feeling OK...she even said so herself...it must be true. I figured I'd been in a low and needed to consolidate. Slow down, get some nutrition and make the next aid station.

A couple of things happened here. One guy abandoned at that crossing as I came through, and, the next stage headed brought me simultaneously into steeper terrain, colder temps and snow under foot. In truth I was out further than I'd been before by about 8km and, seeing the conditions, I told myself along that stretch that I'd done enough for today. I knew at the outset that I should have targeted a more reasonable, achievable race but no, I needed to put my name to 'the big one'. We all know what a great leveller running is I am levelled today. The final 5 km into Aubrac, the second aid station, was something of a death march. I was pulling each leg through the cycle, not driving it; catching roots and rocks as I misjudged the raise.

I chugged into Aubrac, eventually, and gave Ruth and the organisers my decision and race number. Yeah, I felt bad. It was the right thing to do though. Mentally, and physically, I was on my knees here and I'd become aware of a couple of niggles from my past. The right achilles was feeling 'weird'. The icy water had taken away any loosening I'd managed around the tendon and seemed to have shortened its operation. Coupled with the extra demand in terms of movement I felt I would definitely be pushing my luck to try for the next stage of 33km. Bloody shame as it promised great scenery as it serpented through forest following the river Lot's valley side.

Sitting here, 3 days on, I feel a tad of regret; the true regret is that I tried to punch above my weight. The silver lining is that I managed a slow 5km tester today with only minor discomfort around the tendon. I reckon I got away with it. I reckon I ran 47km last weekend... some 15 further than I could do before... I reckon a DNF isn't going to play on my mind too long..

What do you reckon...?

On a more informative note. The winner finished this course with a magnificent time of just over 10 hours. I'd taken 8 hours to reach under half way. I have such admiration for the efforts these people put in to their racing and training.

Sssshhhh...nearly there!

Ok, you think I don't know..? Two days to go and not a peep out of me. Well, what do you expect; I am woefully under-trained for my perceived requirement, the weather has been atrocious this week with a mixture of heavy rain, snow and damp all times other!

On top of that I had a tooth break at the beginning of the week leaving zero option but to visit he who mustn't be mentioned. I needed treatment on four areas including the broken tooth and a trip to doctor to take the sand from my eyes having burined my head for too long in it!
The resultant infection left me sleepless and rattling with pain-killers and antibiotics: not the best preparation for the weekend.

It's now Thursday; the race is Saturday. I feel far removed from the fit, prepared, confident individual I'd hoped to be at this point in April: looking in the mirror, all I see is me.

So, me it will be that stands in the darkness, in the rain and in the cold with a 35m beam stuck to my forehead and 100km and 3000m ascent to overcome. From my position at the keyboard I can't see even 50k as 'do-able'; but still hold the dream of running into the finish area at Laissac some 20 hours after that 6am start.

A bientôt.

Johnny

A day at the races

Three different alarms were primed to alert me on this the day of the 30km trail know as The Verticausse.
The extra alarms weren't necessary after all but the clocks changing that night had rattled me some..
Breakfast passed without event and the usual required motions were despatched, I was armed with maps for the drive and had ample time: so far, so good.
The weather was cool, breezy but the rain was to hold off till the afternoon so I would dress to combat any chills which might catch me both on the tops of the hills and if my speed dropped off.

The race is a 30km loop with 1350 metres of ascent/descent; there are to be a handful over 100 doing this run and perhaps as many on a 13km inner loop.

I had indeed arrived in good time and filled it chatting with a variety of runners: one of which was a Mont Blanc Ultra finisher looking at today's run as a training outing - he wasn't alone!







As usual I found myself checking everyone else out; their trainers, hydration systems, physiques and preparations. As with the trail in Villeveyrac some 6 weeks back I had no sense of foreboding; I was quietly confident that the training this year would bring me in in a decent time and with something in reserve.



So, 9:30 arrives and we're off. I settle into a steady rhythm, as we leave the village the track becomes narrow and thus impossible to either pass or be passed. The track soon steepens and shows me what was in store for the rest of the course - there is to be little comfort in terms of flat or even faux-plat but I am confident and running well with a bunch of runners.



Not long after the first climb is done the trail offers a relatively flat plateau, I open up a little and start moving through the back runners, suddenly I am faced with a sign and a pair of race marshalls, this is where the 13km and 30km runners separate...I am the only 30k runner...I am actually in last position at this point with a handful of 30k'ers ahead some 300m. Still no concern; I am sure they all started too quick and I'd reel a few in as the distance passes...



The kms go by, we decend toward the one water refill point at 8km, I briefly catch the back markers only to see them disappear as I restock on fluids and a good handful of sultanas, I leave the village and face a climb I imagine needing safety ropes and special clothing!! I drop to a walk, there's nothing I can do about it. I can hear the others ahead but don't quite catch them.... finally I reach the top and profit from the short-lived rolling plateau. I should point out that my pace is down the toilet and any hope of finishing inside 4 hours are delusion. I hope for 4:30.



I have a problem at this point, despite being well hydrated at the start, despite refilling at the aid station, I am going to run out of meaningful fluid with at least 10K to go...I should say that I lose fluid better that most runners, as my post-race weigh-ins demonstrate.



Oh well, I decided to back off trying to run down the back markers, to settle down and enjoy the run in, all the time thinking of learning from the experience - easy said, but it was tough to keep things going.



Coming off the plateau you are treated to a most splendid sight: The Millau Viaduc, in all its majesty.




The course tumbles down the side of the valley through rock strewn rugged-rooted single track some 150m before climbing mercilessly once more. Suddenly, as I round a corner through some trees, I come accross the back marker; it seems he is in the same position as me. We exchange pleasantries and are to play cat and mouse to the finish.

With some 7km left I have little to offer, my heart is beating way up in the ionosphere and I'm out of water; I am still focused though and ready to see it through. It is now that I'm tested: as I approach a marshall at the base of the last ascent (20 min's climbing) I see another sign...this one, as before, splitting the 30km runners from the 13km runners..the marshall looks me in the eye and points out that if I feel unable to take on the last climb I could opt for the easy route home...I don't think I even gave it an instant of thought before assuring him that I was focused and would be safe. I set off not knowing whether the back marker would choose as I had.

I didn't have to wait long before he caught me as I ground on in death march mode; he'd found some energy and looked keen to get it done. I did the best I could to stay with him but struggled to keep any real pace. On reaching the top I found myself atop a cliff above the village. The descent would be my salvation. I went on to catch and pass 'David' .

I pulled in to the ghost town that was the finish line..there were still some volunteers around and some hardy souls to clap me home; it would be nearly 5 minutes before David would cross the line.

My time and target for next year: 5:03:16

Well, there it is, the not so good, the bad and the plain ugly.
I learned a number of things out there on the trail. Firstly is to be truly prepared in terms of hydration and nutrition; look at the worst scenario and plan for it. Second, it doesn't feel too bad to come in last. Thirdly, don't make decisions about forthcoming races until at least 3 days have passed!

A 'footnote': I ran in my Inov8 Roclite 315s and found them to be supportive, durable and light.
I had no issues which is a mini-miracle after months blighted training running up to this event.

A note on my hydration failure: even drinking in excess of 3 litres and munching on bread, gels and cake I lost 3 kilos on the run! That's about 7lbs.

Not long now...

Just under a month to go till the 100k; I am far from convinced that I should be doing this run with recent injury issues but as I write this I am 100% sure that I will be there...

I have started to look forward to it; after reading the route notes over and over again I have started to get a feel for it: I know it will read easier that it'll run.

Before this test I have a 30km run with 1350m of ascent. I hope, simply, to finish strong and ahead of at least a handfull of racers. This image from 2006.

http://www.verticausse.com/parcours.html

More mischief managed

I'd set the alarm for 5:30 but was awake ahead of it. All my kit was laid out the night before so I dressed quickly and headed for breakfast of porridge and coffee.

My family were coming too so as to kill two birds in one hit: we have relatives in the environs and, after seeing me off, they would visit with them till the end of the race.







It was an unexpectedly cold start at -3°c but with the sun rising I thought it may warm some. In fact it stayed around zero and I was glad of the layers I'd opted for, especially with my slow pace.



This was to be my first race in close to five years; I was really looking forward to being part of an event particularly one like this: local, friendly and directly befitting the local community.



I met a number of old friends and acquaintances and made more on the trail too.

Before the off there were refreshments to be had. I have never seen anything quite like what was on offer: this was truly a French paysan event in the heart of the terroir! Coffee, bread, foie gras, red wine and water...

Harbouring doubts about forefoot pain and overall fitness meant for a predictably slow start. Further, seeing this as something of a preparation for a longer trail I was to hold back until it clear I was out of danger before exiting the comfort zone.




The trail, after leaving the village was a mixture of wide earth compacted track, railway sleepers ( about 750m) and a good portion of narrow, technical, rock and stone strewn trail of variable ascent.

The terrain and pace was easy till 11 or 12k after that, for me, the run started. I'd been well hydrated at the start and kept topping up; I'd taken on some cake and chocolate at the aid station after 9k. From 12k I'd started to breath a little deeper and begun to work the climbs; I was pleased to feel the benefit of my training and found that despite being slow I was comfortable.




This really was valuable experience for the longer run in April and gives me confidence in my being able to continue my training to reach the start line for the 100k.




OK, to the business end of the run - the course was undulating for the most part, rarely steep, so I was able to run all but a very short, punchy climb. This will be different on a longer run - but not today!

I'd been running with a group on and off for about 5k and, realising I had it in me, I said 'au revoir' and pushed. Two things were evident. I'd been more cautious than necessary - hindsight is so cool, and I had better trail skills than the rest of the group. I am sure it was those skills rather than my reserves that opened the gaps in the last 10k. Some of these guys clearly hadn't trained on trails and it showed.

I pulled in 123rd from a field of 133 with a time of 3:06 (26.5km) The winner was under 2 hours - RESULTS. I expected being out more than 3 hours after looking at last year's results but am delighted to have run my first trail race, my first race in five years and to have had a taste of competition, comradery and some small amount of pain.











In conclusion, I had a strong finish, I recovered quickly after the race and even finishing well down the field I take a lot of positives into the next few month's training.

28km

That's the distance of my first trail race. In truth, I'm not fully prepared: lingering discomfort in my forefoot is likely to play a part in this run.

I am familiar with most of the course having lived there for three years and run most of the parts separately; this will, however, be my furthest run in 15 years and will be a great indicator of how my prep is going towards the longer trail in April.

Having looked at the times posted for 2007 I expect to be one of the last of the hundred or so runners; I'm trying not to think too much about how that is likely to feel. One might ask why do this run if there is little to be taken from it in terms of performance; for me, it's clear: I want to take part in a race; I want to see what effect spectators and other runners have on my 'strategy'; I want to put the constraints on myself which insist I turn up at a particular time, start running for a set distance and not stop till I've given my current best. This is a necessary discipline and I want a taste of it.

Wish me luck!