Bad Boys

Is it wrong to be excited about owning a new pair of running shoes?  Back in the days when I only ever bought road running shoes I wouldn't give them a second thought.  However, I've just bought a pair of Salomon Speedcross shoes and I believe they might just be my most treasured possession.  They fit like a glove, are super comfy, have amazing grip in the mud and even feel pretty good on the road.  They also have a funky speed locking lace system which should be easy to undo with freezing cold hands and there's a pocket in the tongue to stow away the excess lace.  If they weren't muddy already after just one run I might even consider putting them on the mantle piece (except I don't have one!).  I'm hoping I have now found the perfect shoes for the 24 hour Thunder Run in July and the Swiss Mountain Ultra in August.

Here's a photo of my new bad boy running shoes.

My precious..

North Downs Way 50

Yesterday’s run was, not surprisingly, the hardest run of my life.  I spoke to a few other runners and felt like a complete novice.  Several had either run the 100km CCC or the 168km UTMB around Mont Blanc, there were several veterans of 100 mile races on the North and South Downs, as well as others who had run the 56 miles from London to Brighton.  This was my first 50 mile run and I was a little unsure about how to pace it.  My strategy was to simply focus on getting from one checkpoint to the next, to walk as soon as I felt my heart rate was a little high, take in plenty of food and fluid on the run and to expect to be running from between 8 to 9 hours.

This would be my first very long run with a backpack, so a good test of equipment.  I opted to run in my Innov8 trail shoes, even though they have minimal cushioning.  This was also primarily as a test of footwear.  Ruth was to meet me at mile 31 with two pairs of shoes so I could change if I needed to.

If you have never visited the North Downs then I would highly recommend it.  The run itself was stunning, even if it was tough.  The first 24 miles was a fairly undulating run through some very nice countryside.  I managed to take a few photos over the first half of the run.  I spent some time running and chatting to a few other runners, including the top three women who were amongst the top 15 overall and looking very comfortable at this stage.  Unfortunately, the third lady had to pull out at mile 31 with an injury.  This was a fate that thwarted several very experienced runners.

I made just one navigational error.  Just before reaching the 3^rd checkpoint at mile 24 I took a slight detour, which added three quarters of a mile to my run.  This took me from about 6^th place overall to 20^th.  I managed to regain a few places by the time I reached the third checkpoint.  From here we crossed a stream via some stepping stones and then had an incredibly steep climb up Box Hill via an uneven staircase.

The climb of Box Hill was a taster of how the rest of the run would be.  There were then another four or five challenging climbs over the final half of the run.  Some of the climbs were so steep that it would have been impossible to run up them even with fresh legs.  By the time I reached the top of each climb, which was always done at a walk, my legs were so wobbly that it was impossible to start running again, even if there was an immediate downhill.

One thing I learnt about my kit is that a rucksack and water bladder is perhaps not the best thing for a long run, especially if you are concerned about time.  The alternative is to have a smaller backpack with two water bottle attachments on the front of the arm straps.  The problem with a bladder is that you have no idea of how much liquid you have left, and it also takes longer to fill up at each checkpoint.  I also made another big mistake with my backpack bladder.  When I met Ruth at the fourth checkpoint at mile 31 I asked her to give me some electrolyte powder, which I mixed with water.  However, I clearly hadn’t spent enough time shaking the bladder to mix the water and powder.  A couple of miles beyond the checkpoint I tried to take a drink, but nothing came through.  I had to stop, pull the bladder out of my backpack and inspect it.  I found a big lump of undissolved electrolyte powder around the opening of the drinking hose inside the bladder, acting as a plug and preventing any fluid from getting through.  There were also some clumps of powder within the hose.  I spent a couple of minutes trying to break up the clump of powder and shake the bladder around.  I then ran and did a combination of blowing into the straw and sucking hard to try and loosen the clumps within the hose. 

If I had used a backpack with two water bottle attachments instead I believe I could have kept up with a few of the other front runners who managed to get through each checkpoint quicker than me.  However, saying that my goal was simply to complete the distance.

A few times over the last 20 miles I found myself running in a bit of a trance.  There were times when I’d suddenly realise I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings.  Not taking in the views was one thing, but missing direction signs was a more serious concern.  At one point I came round when I was running on a tarmac road, just a few minutes previously I could remember running on a dirt track, but I had no memory of the junction between the two.  Had I turned off the dirt track onto the road? If so, had I paid attention to any direction signs or was I going the wrong way?  Just as I started to fear that I might be going the wrong way again I came across a reassuring North Downs Way finger post.  Phew!  I told myself to pay more attention.  But I had a few other moments like this.

At another point I crossed a style.  Beyond the style there were three paths leading in different directions.  I turned left and ran on a few paces.  I then had no idea why I had made the choice to turn left.  Had I seen a North Downs Way arrow?  I ran back to the style and crossed it again.  Sure enough on the other side there was a finger post pointing to the left for the North Downs Way.  Clearly I had taken in the information but hadn’t formed any memory of it.

When I reached the 5^th checkpoint at mile 38 I would have gladly stopped.  My GPS watch had run out of battery life just before the checkpoint, so from here on I was effectively running without any pace information, not that it would have made any difference to how I was running.  There was just one other checkpoint to reach between here and the finish.

Another steep climb followed the 5^th checkpoint followed by a steep staircase going down a hillside.  Those who have run a marathon will know how challenging it can be to walk down a flight of stairs after running 26 miles.  Going down stairs after about 40 miles of running was hell.

I remember that making progress over the last 20 miles taking the form of four distinctly different ways of running/walking.  Any slight decline was to be welcomed as it was the only way of running without any real pain and to also make really good progress.  Flat terrain or a very slight incline could be run but only with real focus and determination, whilst always looking forward to a steeper incline to act as a natural break from running.  Steep inclines, therefore, were welcomed as they provided a much needed break from running, even if walking up them was still hard work.  Any steep downhill was agony.  I felt I had to at least attempt to run down steep hills, but all the time my quads screamed with pain, and I was also filled with fear of having a serious fall.

I reached the final checkpoint at mile 43 at exactly 3pm.  It had taken me 7 hours to reach this point and I had just 7 miles to go.  Those 7 miles would take me 1 hour and 17 minutes.  I knew at this point that I was in 10^th place, which I hoped to maintain.  With about 3 miles to go I could see a long way behind me and couldn’t see any other runners.  I carried on feeling fairly confident I would finish in 10^th, which I liked the sound of. 

On the approach to the finish at the village of Knockholt Pound the organisers had put out a ‘2k to go’ sign on a gate, the only distance marker on the entire route.  As I passed through the gate I looked behind me and could see a runner approaching.  He wasn’t wearing a number on his front, so I assumed he wasn’t doing the NDW50.  However, a few runners had opted to put their numbers on their backpacks instead of on any clothing, even though this was against race regulations.  Not wanting to take a chance I decided to pick up my pace.  I was amazed to find some extra speed in my legs after running for just over 48 miles.  I reached the village, turned onto the main through road and then into the field behind the village hall for a final uphill run to the finish arch, which I covered at what felt like a sprint.  There was very little fan fair at the finish.  Ruth was there to take a photo, but I was too exhausted to do any posing or to give her a hug.  I was absolutely done in, but very pleased to have finished my first 50 mile run in 10^th place out of 200 starters and in a time of 8 hours 17 minutes.

I managed to complete the run in my Innov8 trail shoes, but any rocky downhill section felt like agony to my feet.  On a positive note, all my toe nails are intact and I have just one sizeable blister, so not bad for 50 miles.  I am, however, walking around like a very old man today.

The big learning experience from this run is my need to do way more hill training.  I had completely under estimated the hills on the North Downs Way.  We had climbed a total of 1750m and each major climb wrecked my legs.  In August I will be running the same distance in the Swiss Alps, but with a total of 5000m of climbs!  I need to get to the Lake District for a few training weekends between now and then.  I am also now very concerned about how I will cope with running for three times the time in the 24 hour Thunder Run in August.

Ready for 50 miles

200 runners at the start in Farnham

Enjoying the first few undulating miles.

The boat owner with bacon sandwiches and jelly babies at mile 10.
First lady just crossing the bridge.

Second lady just behind me. 

Second checkpoint on St Martha's Hill at mile 12.5.

The North Downs Way is a mix of exposed south facing slopes...

...and shady forest trails.  Second lady again.  Just before I went  wrong at  mile 20.

The stepping stones just before Box Hill (not my picture).

The relentless stairs on the climb of Box Hill at the half way point.

Typical view from the NDW.

Re-fueling at the 4th checkpoint - mile 31.

What civilised people do at the weekend, whilst the uncivilised run 50 miles.

Hell at mile 40.

At the finish, smiling but feeling utterly done in.

The leader board.  I'm in 10th place.  First two ladies are 5th and 8th overall.
The first man was in a league of his own.  Both the male and female course records
were smashed.  The previous men's record was 7:22:48 and the ladies' 9:20:07.

Row and Run

The day after tomorrow I will be facing my first real test of the year – the North Downs Way 50.  That’s 50 miles, not kilometres.  I’ve never run so far in a single day before and I’m currently feeling a mix of excitement and fear.  It’s exciting to be taking on a new challenge, and on the whole I feel fairly confident that I will complete the distance.  However, there is still an underlying fear of failure.  There is also a fear that I could pick up an injury that may well wipe out the rest of my year.  If I don’t complete the NDW50 how will I cope with the 24 hour Thunder Run, or the 50 miles running in the Swiss Alps in August? 

I am also worried that I still haven’t quite found the right kit.  I have two running jackets that are suppose to be waterproof, but I know neither will survive the wet if it rains for a significant portion of the 8 to 9 hours I think it will take me to cover 50 miles.  Why, oh why haven’t I bought a better running coat already?  I also know that I haven’t quite found the right shoes for me.  My Inno8 trail shoes will crucify my feet over 50 miles if the trails are firm, as they have minimal cushioning.  My Brooks trail shoes are good on a mix of trail and road and would make an ideal choice, except I always end up with blisters after about 10 to 15 miles.  That leaves me with running in my new road shoes, which will be great if the trails aren’t wet.  Decisions, decisions.

Since the Neolithic marathon I have done very little running.  Last Friday I found myself testing my fitness in an unexpected way.  I have been training a group of eight women to row the Channel.  They will also be taking on their challenge next week.  Last Friday they had their last 4 hour training row at Hayling Island.  I had intend to go along to video them from the support boat so we could then make last minute corrections after watching the video footage.  But on the day one of the girls was ill, so the remaining crew members asked if I would take her place in the boat.  I gladly jumped in and took up my oar.  I rowed the Channel last October and it felt great to be back in the boat and rowing out to sea.  After about 4 hours of rowing I realised that there is a reason why you do specific training for a particular event.  I might be marathon fit, but I am not rowing fit.  I have never felt so exhausted after 4 hours of exercise before.  By 9pm I was well and truly ready for bed.

About to go for a paddle

The girls rowing hard

Because I was down south with the girls last Friday I spent the weekend visiting my mum in Winchester.  This meant I had the opportunity to run somewhere different on Saturday morning.  St Catherine’s Hill, which overlooks Winchester, looked very appealing.  The Hill was an Iron Age hill fort with a defensive ditch worked into its upper slope.  I covered a total of 8 miles running up and down and around the Hill, trying to get as much hill training as possible.  Once again I managed to wipe myself out and I realised I’d need to do a lot more hill training before going to Switzerland in the summer.

I’ve only run twice since the weekend of about 5 and 8 miles.  There’s not much to report on, except for almost being mauled by an unruly dog on one run.  If dog owners know their dogs have a tendency to run and jump at runners why, oh why, don’t they put them on a lead?  I would have been seriously annoyed if I’d either been tripped or bitten by a dog just days before my 50 mile run.  The most annoying thing is that the dog owners in question never seem apologetic, as if it isn’t their fault.

I didn’t take my camera with me for the run up and around St Catherine’s Hill, so here are few shots appropriated from Google images.

The approach to St Catherine's Hill - you can just about see the defensive ditch near the top

The two paths that follow the ditch around the hill.

A view of Winchester from the hill

A view of Winchester Cathedral and the River Itchen

Neolithic Marathon

The Neolithic marathon served as a great reminder of why I run.  Of course those of us who regularly exercise hard do so for many reasons, which must surely include not having to worry about what we eat, feeling good about yourself, acting as a kind of insurance against ill health in old age and wanting to look good naked!  The reason that I run is that it can be very sociable, and at the same time a deeply personal activity.  It helps me feel connected to my surroundings and to experience the changing of the seasons more closely than most people ever do.  I enjoy the physical challenge of pushing my body to the limits.  And I enjoy using running as a way to explore new locations, or familiar locations in a different way.  The Neolithic marathon ticked all those boxes.

I spent Saturday afternoon and evening with my mum and sister in Winchester.  On the Sunday morning I had a 45 minute drive to get to Stonehenge, from where I jumped on a bus to be transported to the start of the race at Avebury.  Stonehenge is, of course, a world famous Neolithic monument.  Avebury stone circle is often overlooked for it’s more famous near neighbour, but for me it is equally impressive.  It is a much bigger monument, but it lacks the regular cut stones and horizontal lintels that you get at Stonehenge. 

A small section of Avebury circle, which is now crossed by two roads.

In the 14^th century a village grew within the confines of the circle and villagers started to remove several stones.  The site was saved from further damage when the archaeologist, John Aubrey, started to investigate the monument in the 17^th century.  I’ve visited the site several times in the past, but I still enjoyed having the opportunity to wonder around the circle once more just before the start of the marathon.

Avebury village crossing part of the circle, with markers showing the location of missing stones.

Approximately 300 runners lined up in Avebury High Street at 10.30am on Sunday morning to tackle the marathon.  My intention was to take things easy, with the view that this would be a training run for the North Downs Way 50 miler in two weeks time.  My goal was to finish in a little under 4 hours.  I stood roughly in the middle of the pack at the start, hoping this would slow me down.  Once we were underway I found the first half mile to be more congested than London.  At one point I got elbowed in the ribs by a runner just ahead of me, then I was shoved in the back as I tried to slow down to avoid a second jab from the guy ahead of me.  I was feeling too hemmed in so I upped my pace just to find a less congested spot.

Getting ready at the start in Avebury

Once I had increased my pace I found it hard to settle back down into a slower run.  From that point onwards I overtook a steady stream of runners for about the next 10 miles.  The route turned out to be hillier than I had expected.  The first hill came at mile 2 and continued to climb for the next 2 miles.  This was then followed by a 2 mile stretch of down hill running.  Miles 6 to 11 were mostly flat and on road.  Every time I caught up with a runner I tried to slow down to their pace and have a conversation, but I found it impossible to keep to the slower pace, so I’d soon leave them behind.

On the first climb of the day, which went up for 2 miles.

Near the top of the first climb, with the field very spread out by now.

We reached the next major hill at mile 11.  I overtook many walkers on this hill, who had all set off from the start much earlier than the runners.  The hill proved to be quite a challenge, so I would walk a little and then run a little until reaching a very welcome water station at the top and 12 miles from the start.  We were now on the main track that crossed Salisbury Plain, a wide chalky, gravel path that continued for the next 10 miles.  We had very expansive views to either side of us that almost resembled the African Serengeti.  Just after leaving the water station I stopped to take a photo of an approaching runner.  As he passed he offered to take my photo.  With the photo taken we started running and found we ran at the same pace.  I found out that his name was Matt, he lived locally, and has run this marathon seven times before. 

The start of the Salisbury Plain section - mile 12 to 22.

Matt and I spent the next 10 miles chatting, which made the miles seem to whizz past.  The remainder of the run was reasonably undulating, with the odd short, steep climb.  I would have walked up some of the climbs if Matt hadn’t been running with me.  I think we both encouraged each other to keep running without really realising it.

Matt on one of the shorter climbs

We overtook a steady stream of walkers, some who had started in Avebury and some who had started from the halfway point.  We also overtook the occasional runner, who had clearly set off too hard.

Matt ended up running ahead of me when we reached the water station at mile 22.  I slowed to digest some Shot Bloks sports gels and to drink enough water to rinse them down.   I slowly caught up with him over the next 3 miles or so, and we then crossed the line together in joint fourth place.

Another runner reaches the finish

Tired runners rest whilst medals lie in wait for those still out running

This run had everything for me.  Testing terrain, nice scenery, the chance to strike up a brief friendship with a fellow runner, and very well organised with plenty of water stations (every 2 to 3 miles).  It had the added bonus of starting and finishing at two points of interest, and once we’d collected our medals we were entitled to free entry to visit Stonehenge.  Bonus!

Visiting The Stones after running 26.2 miles,...

...with just a few other tourists.

And So It Begins...

This Sunday, just two weeks since running London marathon, I will be running my third marathon of the year.  From here on I should be running at least one marathon a month, or an ultra marathon, until the end of the year.  Right now I am feeling a little apprehensive.  

My mind keeps dwelling on the very real possibility of developing some sort of debilitating injury.  Ever since London marathon my calf muscles have felt like lumps of rock.  I might be exaggerating slightly. On some days they have felt fine, typically after two or three days of rest.  Then a shortish run sets them back again.  For example, last night I went for an 8 mile run.  For the first six miles I was feeling great.  With one mile to go I started to feel a little bit of discomfort, then when I reached my front door my calf muscles were so locked I found it impossible to stretch them.  I even tried stretching my calves by standing on the edge of a step and letting my heels drop down, but it was too painful.  I then resorted to the trusted old foam roller, which was excruciatingly painful, but did seem to help a little.  I berated myself for running 8 miles rather than just 6.  If I'd stuck to 6 I would have been fine.  Also, why did I run 2 miles at a sub 6 minute mile pace?  What an idiot!  Thankfully, I have a sports massage booked for tomorrow.  Hopefully, that will sort me out and help me complete the Neolithic Marathon.

I keep reminding myself that this weekend's marathon is just a training run.  I aim to run it super slow.  I will also take my camera along and try to take several photos.  It should certainly be a scenic run, starting from Avebury stone circle and finishing at Stonehenge.  All I need to do is get to the finish in one piece and without my calves cramping.  Then just two weeks later, on 18 May, I will be running the North Downs Way 50.  My first 50 mile run in a single day.

The start and finish point of this weekend's marathon.
Just in case you've never seen Avebury Henge or Stonehenge before.

I should also mention what I did last weekend.  For the record I did no running.  I was on some forced rest because instead I attended a weekend training course in London.  The course was actually four half-day Franklin method workshops.  The Franklin method is something that the general public are probably completely unaware of.  It's a form of exercise that uses imagery and movement.  It was developed by Eric Franklin who was a frustrated dancer fed up of living with a painful back and painful knees and hearing doctors say he should stop dancing.  He developed his own method of exercising and found it helped alleviate his pain so he could carry on dancing.  So we now have the Franklin method, which joins the ranks of exercise philosophies such as Pilates and Feldenkrais, etc.

I attended the course on the recommendation of Ruth.  But as the weekend drew nearer Ruth started to express doubts as to whether or not I would get anything from it.  This made me wonder what I had let myself in for.  I don't think I got much out of the first half day session, which was all about feet, because I felt like a fish out of water, and I don't think I full engaged in the process.  The way the exercise sessions were structured was so very different to what I'm used to.  I also felt a little uncomfortable about being one of only two men with about 25 women.  I don't know why this should have bothered me given that I regularly coach an all female running club.  I guess I felt different being one of the students rather than the person in charge.

So each half day focused on just one body part.  After feet we focused on the spine in the afternoon.  We did a series of exercises designed to improve mobility and reduce pain in people who regularly suffer with back pain.  But the student is also encouraged to imagine in their mind what the spine is doing, the teacher uses props and diagrams to help this.

On Sunday morning we focused on the abdominal muscles.  We were encouraged to lay our hands on the rectus abdominus, or the internal or external obliques, with our fingers pointing in the direction of the muscle fibres.  As you exercised we'd move our hands to help visualise what the muscles were doing.  For the abdominal muscles this was done as a kind of warm-up before moving on to more intense exercises.  The visualisation process is supposed to help with the movement of the exercise.  I know it sounds a little far out, but it did seem to work.  I had much greater awareness of what each muscle was doing.

Then on Sunday afternoon we did a whole session on breathing.  I was expecting to find this session the most tedious of the four.  Far from it.  After doing a number of visualisation exercises I felt that I was completely aware of my lungs and how they interacted with my ribs, my diaphragm, the scalenus muscles and the abdominals.  I felt that I could breath more freely and deeply and had greater efficiency of breathing.  It felt great.  I left wanting to explore the Franklin method in more depth.  The series of workshops were only supposed to be a taster into the Franklin method.  It doesn't give me enough knowledge to teach it to others.  In order to do that I need to sign up for a series of week long courses.  I'm hoping they will publish dates soon for when it will be taught in the U.K. so I can see if it is feasible for me to attend.