Dos and Don'ts

Nine weeks have now passed since the TDS run around Mont Blanc and it feels like a lifetime. I am still not running properly. I have done a few small runs recently, but it feels as if I'm doing nothing. I am desperate to get out and run 10 miles, 15 miles, 20 miles and more, but I'm still injured from the run in the Alps. I have never been out of action for so long before and it is starting to do my head in. 

The ongoing issue is knee pain. I have days when it feels as if it is getting better, but then I have the odd day of pain, especially when walking down stairs or the smallest of hills. As a result I have written off the rest of this year, which means I will not be hitting my original target of 26 long runs of marathon distance or more. I am eight runs short of my target. 

Over the last few weeks I have been contemplating what advice I would give someone who is about to run their first ultra marathon. The following is a basic list of dos and don'ts that should be useful guidance regardless of what event you plan to run.

Do

Practise eating on the run before the big day. Running an ultra means eating more than just energy gels, so practise eating the sort of food that might be handed out during  the event. This could be cake, chocolate bars, fruit, sausage rolls, cheese sandwiches, pretzels, noodle soup or any local delicacies. Try to find out in advance what food will be laid on and then eat something that is at least a close substitute.

Eat early on, especially on very long runs. You're likely to go into energy deficit regardless, but eating early on will help minimise this as well as getting your stomach familiar with the art of digestion on the run.

Eat a big breakfast. This goes hand-in-hand with the above advise. You're going to be burning a lot of calories, so get plenty of calories in before you start. I think that just about covers the topic of eating.

Test all your kit before the run. If you need to carry a backpack with a lot of gear then get used to it on a training run. If you know you will need to run at night then do a training run at night so you can get use to running with a head torch.

Do your research and train for the right conditions. Long flat runs can be just as testing as long hilly runs. Don't train in the hills if your ultra run is going to be flat, and vice versa. I realise that a big part of my failure to complete the TDS was due to not training to run downhill. Seems such a basic error in hindsight. Also, if your ultra run is likely to be hot then get use to running in heat. If necessary wear extra clothing on your training runs to make yourself sweat more.

Drink plenty and often. It is better to need to stop for a pee then to make yourself dehydrated. I got seriously dehydrated on the North Downs Way 50 and running became seriously uncomfortable. The problem was rectified once I got to the next aid station, but it could have been avoided in the first place.

Keep going forward. If you have a stomach problem don't curl up in a ball and hope it goes away. Slow down to a walk and keep plodding on. The problem might subside whilst you walk. 

Look after your feet. Carry vaseline, surgical tape and blister patches. If you start to feel a rub on your feet than address it. A dollop of vaseline might be enough, or wrap it in surgical tape. If it has already developed into a blister then get a blister patch on it and wrap it in surgical tape as an extra measure.

Believe in yourself. Part of the reason for running an ultra is for the challenge. There will be hard times when you will need to dig deep and focus on just keep on going forward. Have faith that the training will get you to the finish. If you are struggling up a big hill look forward to the downhill section that will almost certainly follow.

Be prepared for the worst. The one thing out of your control is the weather. Make sure you have the right kit for the worst weather imaginable. Also have enough food reserves either with you or with your support crew (depending on the event) so if an aid station has either run out or doesn't have the food you want then you can be self sufficient, at least to some extent.

Keep your spirits up, smile, chat to fellow runners and thank the volunteers. Maintaining a sunny outlook in tough conditions will make the experience more enjoyable for you and everyone around you. Even if they do suspect you're on drugs.

Enjoy the view. Don't run with your head down looking at the path just six feet ahead of you (unless you're on a technical descent). You've probably chosen to run an event in a beautiful part of the world which you might never have visited before and may never visit again. So make sure you take in the scenery.

Don't

Don't go off too fast. Settle into a pace that feels comfortable. Ask yourself if your starting pace will at least get you to the halfway point in comfort. If the answer is no then slow down.

Don't waste energy running up hills. All but the very elite ultra runners run up hills. If you really think you can challenge Kilian Jornet, then go for it. But if your main goal is just to finish then take it easy on the climbs.

Don't run past a runner who looks like they are in difficulty. Find out if there is anything wrong. Offer them some of your food and water if this is what they need. Otherwise just give them some friendly encouragement. At some point you might need someone to help you out. And if they are in serious trouble alert the next aid station.

Don't run in new socks. This pretty much goes for not trying any new gear on the day, but trying new socks is the really big no, NO.

Don't continue if injured. This is going to be largely down to your personal goals and what you plan to do next and where you are in the race. If you twist an ankle 5 miles from the finish of a 100 mile ultra then there is going to be a very big temptation to carry on. My advice would be slow down and ask yourself if it is really worth making the injury worse by carrying on. If you've told yourself that this was going to be your one and only ultra, and the injury won't stop you from doing your job, then you might decide to plough on. But if you have another event already in your diary then why risk throwing that away as well?

Finally, don't litter. Leave only footprints.

The Recovery

It's been three and a half weeks since my 70km effort in the TDS and I'm still feeling the effects. My knees have not been feeling great since the event. At least my back is now fine. I've been seeing an osteopath for the last three weeks and I'm slowly on the mend. The conclusion reached during his initial assessment was that my pelvis wasn't moving as well as it should, my spine was slightly out of alignment and parts of my erector spinae muscle needed releasing. We jointly concluded that running with sticks affected the normal running rotation in my pelvis and spine, which is what caused my back to seize up and what then contributed to my knee pain. This is a very simplified summary of the diagnosis.

My initial two osteopath appointments focused on freeing up my back and pelvis, with me then doing lots of stretching homework for my hips. In my last appointment we focused on my knees, and I was amazed at how different they felt after the appointment. At the start of the session my knees creaked like an old rusty hinge on a heavy door. By the time I was done they were almost silent. Then I drove home and called Ruth to come listen to my usually creaky old knees and was disappointed to discover they were creaky again. Hopefully my ongoing homework will slowly reverse this.

I've done a few smallish runs over the last few weeks. I generally feel ok when I am running. There's an initial 5 minutes of discomfort at the start of the run which then disappears once my muscles have warmed up. The problem then arises the next day when my knees feel as if they stiffen up. If I spend any more than 30 minutes sitting down my knees complain like mad when I get up. If I spend large amounts of time on my feet I seem to be ok. Unfortunately, not even personal trainers can spend all day standing up.

I have had my doubts as to whether I now can finish my 26 long run challenge, or even if I should continue. I have decided to include my 12 hour night run as one of the events. Initially I said it wouldn't count as I wanted all my runs to be events that would be recognised by the 100 marathon club. However, with my knees now complaining and the fact that I did run 61.3 miles during that one night run I've decided to include it. That means my total now stands at 18 runs made up of:

• 6 marathons
• 3 one day ultras of 50k, 35 miles and 50 miles.
• 3 x two day ultra runs of between 30 miles and 38 miles each day (6 runs in total)
• 1 x 12 hour run
• 1 x 24 hour run
• TDS run around Mont Blanc (70km completed out of 119km).

I am suppose to be running in the Ely Monster Marathon next Sunday. It is still my intention to give it a go, but I will be paying close attention to how I'm feeling and I expect my time to be very slow.

Now I'm off to focus on the latest exercises prescribed by my osteopath, Dan Rollins.

TDS Race Report

The TDS ultra marathon started in Courmayer, Italy, at 7am on Wednesday 27^th August.  This meant getting on a bus in Chamonix at 5.15am for the trip through the Mont Blanc tunnel from France to Italy. Before going into details of the race itself I’m going to mention the registration process, in case anyone reading this is tempted to try the event.

The information available prior to race day was very detailed in some respects and then somewhat vague in others. Registration for the event took place on Tuesday inside a large sports centre in Chamonix. I knew from people who had completed some of the runs before that registration would involve a kit check, but I never received an email telling me so and I couldn’t find any information on the website to confirm this. I decided to turn up in my race kit and with my backpack filled with all the compulsory items that I needed to carry anyway. Others weren’t quite so prepared and were turned away after almost an hour of queuing to go and fetch items of kit for inspection.

Waiting for race registration to begin.

I got to the sports centre about 30 minutes before the doors were due to open for registration to find a long queue had already formed, which snaked around inside the building’s entrance hall. When the doors opened there was a chaos of pushing and shoving as some people tried to jump the queue. There was a lot of hissing and tutting amongst those who were incensed by those cheating the system, but the wrong doers got away with their misdemeanours. I was typically British and stood my ground in the queue. Shortly afterwards I spotted Annabelle, a runner I’ve met at a few marathons and ultras in the UK over the previous year. She was with her partner Richard who I had also met at the Pilgrim Challenge in February. Annabelle was also running the TDS, whilst Richard was on supporting duties. I was quite happy to allow them to jump the queue and join Ruth and me for some company whilst we stood in line. Richard had also run the UTMB twice before so it was useful having someone to hand who knew the system.

Once inside the registration process was fairly slick. First we had to check our running number (6334) and go to a desk where we were handed a form containing a long list of all the items we needed to carry. Five items had been randomly selected from this list. We then had to collect an airport security type plastic tray and place these five items into the tray. The items on my list requiring inspection were the foil blanket, two working torches both with spare batteries, waterproof jacket with hood, whistle and mobile phone. I noticed that some people had been caught out by the need to have their spare food reserve checked. This was the one thing I hadn’t packed, if this had been one of my items I would have been legging it back to the apartment to pick up my malt loaf and energy gels. It was also possible that if the person inspecting my kit didn’t think anything was up to scratch then I would have to go off to buy a new piece of kit and then return to have it re-checked. Fortunately, everything was in order.

Once the kit had been checked we then had to collect our race number and timing chip, which had to be signed for. After this we collected two drop bags; one to bring items back from Courmayer to Chamonix and one to be filled with any spare clothing and food that we wanted at Cormet de Roselend at 67kms. We also had to collect our T-shirts and a bus ticket for the early morning bus journey to Courmayer. The whole process took less than two hours, including the time spent queuing at the start.

I then spent the afternoon unpacking and repacking by backpack to make sure that I did have everything that was required plus any extra items I thought I should have. We then met Annabelle and Richard for an afternoon beer to try and settle the nerves.

Kit checklist: 

waterproof coat with hood, 

bottles to carry at least 1 litre of water and a mug, 

windproof and waterproof gloves, 

warm hat and a cap (not shown), 

food reserve (for me gels and malt loaf (not shown)),

two working head torches and spare batteries for both, 

foil blanket, 

some money in case of emergencies, 

bandage and scissors, 

passport, 

mobile phone, 

waterproof trousers (not shown). 

I also chose to take a buff, small tub of vaseline, surgical tape and some plasters.

Walking poles were highly recommended, which I chose to use.

I didn’t really get any sleep Tuesday night but I was feeling up for the challenge when I got up at 4am Wednesday morning. We made our way through the dark pre-dawn streets of Chamonix to the buses that would take us through the Mont Blanc tunnel to Courmayer. There was absolute silence on the journey.

When we arrived in Courmayer we were deposited in a street close to a sports stadium without any instructions about what to do next, another example of the lack of competitor information. A few people started walking towards the sports stadium and everyone else followed. We entered the stadium and found more runners who had been transported on earlier buses sitting around on the floor looking listless and half asleep. Ruth had come with me as my number one supporter and she suggested I find some space on the floor with everyone else whilst she looked around. When she came back she told me that there was no sign of anyone official but she had at least located the toilets.

Trying to stay calm and relaxed before the start.

 

Between killing time and queuing for the toilets I bumped into Annabelle and Richard, and was relieved to have someone familiar to talk too. Then whilst Ruth was off visiting the loo everyone suddenly seemed to get up and exit the building without any prior announcement. By the time Ruth got back from powdering her nose the building was practically disserted. Annabelle was starting to get a bit anxious and had also gone on ahead of me. Ruth and I then followed the tail end of the crowd towards the centre of Courmayer and the start line, where I found myself almost at the very back of the race start.

Almost time to go.

When the race finally got going at 7am I found myself doing a lot of slow jogging and walking for the first kilometre as we wound our way through the narrow streets in the centre of town. We were soon on wider streets so I had the opportunity to do some overtaking. Then we were suddenly going up and after a very short period of time I had to stop to peel off a couple of layers of clothing, during which time I was overtaken by a vast number of people I had just passed.

Course profile.

The first 12.5km was then spent mostly walking up a steep incline from 1220m to 2445m. We were on a fairly wide track that allowed the throng of runners to walk roughly 4 people abreast, but there was very little opportunity to overtake so I had to just settle for going at the same pace as the pack. Pretty much everyone was using walking poles in the very tight confines of a pack of some 1600 runners. This meant that I periodically got jabbed in my Achilles by someone’s walking pole from behind, but I in return occasionally accidental jabbed the person ahead of me.

Once we reached the top of the climb it felt as if we were already deep into the mountains. We had amazing views all around, with the snow capped peaks of the Mont Blanc massif to our right. The path got much narrower towards the top and then as soon as we’d reached the Arête du Mont-Favre we found ourselves plummeting down a steep rocky trail. We had the opportunity to do some running at last! I stuck to the rock strewn trail like most people whilst others who had either been more frustrated by the slow pace to now, or had suicidal tendencies, took the more direct route down the mountain. On the trail the row of runners ahead of me would periodically come to a complete and sudden stand still as, no doubt, someone ahead braked to avoid colliding with a rock, or something, resulting in a ricochet of braking behind them.  Once at the bottom of the descent we got to run on a wide, flat track that led to the first feed station at Lac Combal.

The food on offer included noodle soup, a selection of cheese and cold meat, bread, cake and fruit. In truth there could have been other things available but the food tent was so packed it was hard to see exactly what was spread out on the table. I stood in a short line for the noodle soup and immediately got elbowed out of the way by less patient runners. “So it’s going to be like that”, I thought and decided to follow the example being set by others and barged my way through to collect a bowl of soup and some bread. I ate my food, had my water bottles re-filled and continued on my way.

What followed was another slow climb from 1970m to just over 2600m. This time the path was only wide enough for a single file of runners. There was a steep drop to one side and a wall of mountain on the other. The top of the climb was the highest point on the course. According to my GPS watch this was kilometre 21.5, which I reached after 3 hours and 45 minutes. The other way to put that is that it was the slowest half marathon of my life by a massive margin.

The next 9kms was all downhill as we dropped to 1780m. We were running alongside a deep ravine to our right, which we’d cross at a small bridge somewhere way below. As we dropped into the valley the landscape softened as we temporarily lost sight of the high mountains. At first it felt great to be running downhill, but the effect on my quads after 5 or 6k was starting to be quite punishing. The final section of descent suddenly steepened dramatically and led straight into a very boggy field. By the time I’d crossed the field I was covered in mud to just above my knees.

So with wet trainers I started the third climb of the day to the second feed station at 2200m. On paper the climb doesn’t look too bad, but it was certainly feeling like hard work. We briefly dropped into a small depression around a pretty mountain lake before the final slog up to the checkpoint at Col du Petit Saint Bernard, where Ruth and Richard were waiting. Annabelle had already been through the checkpoint about 30 minutes ahead of me.

Runners approaching the final climb to the checkpoint.

Me on the last little push to the 2nd feed station.

Noodle soup.

I once again filled up with noodle soup, bread, cheese, meat and a slice of cake before continuing on my way to Bourg Saint Maurice.

And I'm off for the 15km to Bourg Saint Maurice.

The next 15km to the third feed station was all downhill. Given that I can usually run 10km on the flat in less than 40 minutes you could perhaps assume that it should be possible for me to run 15km downhill in less than an hour. Ruth was worried that I’d get to the next checkpoint before the bus. Luckily for her there was a bus departure almost straight after I’d left the checkpoint. I initially made good progress on the descent, but the more the path dropped the steeper it became. My legs were screaming in agony after about 40 minutes of descent and I had to slow to a walk to give them a break. As the path got closer to the valley floor I had to do short bursts of very slow running followed by a walk. It seemed ridiculous to be walking downhill, but it was the best I could do.

Once we’d reached the bottom of the descent I thought the checkpoint was going to be really close. I hadn’t realised that there was first a small village to run through before reaching Bourg Saint Maurice. As I exited the village I was very confused and wondered if I’d missed the checkpoint. If there hadn’t been more runners ahead of me I would have been convinced that I’d taken a wrong turn. I decided to keep going and to follow everyone else. We eventually reached the outskirts of Bourg Saint Maurice and it was a relief to realise that I hadn’t actually missed the checkpoint.

Arriving in Bourg Saint Maurice.

I met Ruth at the feed station and this time she was allowed to come in with me to offer any help I needed. I wasn’t sure what help Ruth could have provided, but I noticed that other runners were being delivered food parcels by their wives, husbands, friends and partners. Ruth also found that she reached the checkpoint with plenty of time to spare, given that it had actually taken me almost 1 hour and 40 minutes to run the 15km downhill section! Richard and Ruth had both narrowly missed seeing Annabelle who was extending her lead over me. At this point I had been on the move for about 8 hours and had covered 51km. The hardest section of the course now lay between me and the fourth feed station at Cormet de Roselend.

I left the checkpoint to find that the route turned upwards at a very steep gradient. We would be climbing from a height of 840m to Passeur Pralognan at 2560m, with a steep little descent to encounter on the way. I tried not to think about the climb too much. My aim was to switch off and plough on at a steady pace and focus on small goals. The first goal was to just clear the tree line. My expectation was that the tree line would be just a little below 2000m. I breathed a sigh of relief once I was out of the woods, so to speak, and checked the altitude on my watch, which alarmingly told me I was only at about 1400m, so I still had over a 1000m to go.

I could see a building that looked like a fort a very short distance ahead, so I focused on that. I then focused on what was obviously going to be a false peak where I momentarily stopped to admire the view and to get my breath back before looking ahead for my next target. As I was standing still I was passed by several runners going the wrong way. They had clearly had enough of the climb and were heading back to Bourg Saint Maurice to abandon the race.

My next target on the climb was another building. This was yet another fort and the location of a water station to fill up bottles as well as an intermediate time checkpoint. This made me realise that I was really thirsty and that I had hardly drunk anything on the climb so far. So I made sure I had a really good drink before carrying on. I was now just below 2000m and had been climbing for about 2 hours. In total I had been on the move for just over 10 hours. I tried to convince myself that I was near the top of the climb and that it had to level out at some point. I ploughed on.

We continued to go up and up, then after another hour I finally reached a downhill section. At this point I stopped to eat some malt loaf and sat down on a rock for a brief rest. As soon as I stopped a few others joined me. I pulled my phone out and decided to take a couple of photos of the amazing landscape, the only photos I’d taken all day. The fact that I was using my phone to take photos makes me think that perhaps I was already starting to think about abandoning the race.

Enjoying a little sit down. We'd come up from the right and were heading down to the left.

That's roughly the direction we were heading. 

After my brief sit down I started on the descent. I thought I must be at the Col de la Forclaz and had reached the short descent that is shown on the course profile, but I was mistaken. The descent I was on didn’t even register on the profile and after a brief bit of painful downhill running I was going up again and finally reached the Col 30 minutes later.

The initial descent from the Col was quite tricky and slow going, at least for my knackered legs. In fact I found the whole of the descent to be tricky and slow going. We dropped down to an altitude of 2230m and then had the final steep climb to 2560m. One short section required the use of hands and feet, which meant my walking poles were an inconvenience all of a sudden.

I was starting to make my descent to Cormet de Roselend at 7.30pm. The next feed station was just 4km away and it was mostly all downhill. The only problem was that the downhill in question was almost a grade one scramble. I have to confess that I don’t really have any idea of what a grade one scramble would be like, but my imagination and tired body told me that I was on one. The descent was tricky enough for there to be ropes fixed to the side of the mountain. I don’t know if the ropes were permanent or just put in place by the organisers of the race for our benefit. I was glad they were there. If they hadn’t been my progress would have been even slower. As it was it took me almost an hour to make the 590m descent. Once at the bottom Cormet de Roselend lay just 2km away on a fairly level path. My quads and knees were feeling well and truly trashed by this point. I tried to run but it was too painful. I walked the last 2km to the checkpoint and by the time I got there I had convinced myself that the sensible thing to do was to abandon the race.

Annabelle arrives at Cormet de Roselend almost 2 hours ahead of me, with Richard alongside.

By the time I got to Cormet de Roselend the sun was going down.

I met Ruth and told her of my decision. She wasn’t allowed to join me inside the checkpoint, where my drop bag was waiting. Before committing myself to abandoning I collected my bag and tried to have something to eat. I didn’t really fancy any more noodle soup, so I tried to eat a small piece of cake which made me gag. This was the only time that I struggled to get any food down. I considered sitting down but knew that it would then be really hard to get back up. Without thinking about it too much more I took myself off to the small tent for those wishing to abandon. A couple of other runners were also there ahead of me. When it was my time I was asked if I wished to withdraw, to which I said, “Yes”. I was then asked if I was sure. “Yes”, I said. Then without further discussion my barcode was cut off my race number and that was that. The only thing to do now was put on some warmer clothes, meet Ruth outside the checkpoint compound and get on a bus for the 2 hour journey to Chamonix.

I am now at peace with my decision to quit. I’m convinced it was the right thing to do. My legs were in pain for several days and then my back was painful until last Thursday, just over a week after the event. I have since had a sports massage with Mike Power at Cambridge Sports Massage which did help immensely. I also made the decision to see Daniel Rollins an osteopath I know through Ruth’s connections. He found lots of kinks in my spine and pelvis which he gently worked on and has given me lots of advice to help get me back into running shape. I am feeling highly motivated to follow his advice to the letter.

Yesterday (Sunday) I went for a very gentle 11 mile run with a few of the Sweaty Betties. It was great to be running with the girls at a leisurely conversational pace, but I feel that this shortish run was perhaps a little too much for me at this stage. My legs felt quite stiff for the whole day afterwards, although not so bad this morning.

Right now I am finding it painful to do squats and lunges. This doesn’t bode well given I’ll be teaching beginner kettlebell classes from next week. I’m hoping I will be much improved by next weekend.

Reflections On TDS

I am now home from Chamonix where I had a fantastic two week holiday but, unfortunately, I was unsuccessful in completing the 119km TDS ultra run (Sur les Traces des Ducs de Savoie). I can not convey how disappointed I am in not completing this event.  It had been the race that I was most looking forward to. However, there are a lot of positives to be taken from the experience, and my disappointment has made me even more determined to go back and finish next year. I will try to write about the event itself in a few days, first I am going to focus on why I failed to complete the run and what I have learnt.

First of all my failure was partly down to completely underestimating how hard the TDS would be. Because I had finished the 80km Swiss Mountainman last year I thought I had a very good idea of what running 119km around Mont Blanc would be like.  I was so wrong. The Mountainman was probably about 60% runnable, where as I’d say the TDS was only about 30 to 40% runnable, and that level of difference is huge. The TDS is described as being wilder and more technical than the 100km CCC and 168km UTMB, the other two main events during the UTMB week. What that means is lots of paths that are difficult enough to walk on, let alone run. At times we were climbing and descending on paths which required use of hands as well as feet. On one steep section of descent we needed to use ropes to climb down (more on that later).

I also hadn’t trained enough for downhill running. In hindsight this seems like such a basic error. When I was training for the Mountainman I spent weekends in the Peak District and a long weekend in the Lakes where I trained hard at slogging up hills and running down. I knew that those weekends had been really valuable last year, but I didn’t get round to repeating those training runs this time around. This was partly due to the fact that my weekends have been so busy on taking part in other events. I had two weekends in my diary when I’d planned to go to the Peak District but because I’d been away from home so often I scrapped those weekends and did my training around Cambridge instead. Because I wasn’t training on Peak District hills I did some runs dragging a tire behind me. This had helped to prepare me for the uphill slogs but it did nothing to help me for the descents. Before halfway we had two really long downhill sections. The first long descent went downhill for 9km and dropped a total of 830m. We reached this descent after 21kms and it provided the first real opportunity to do some running, which was a relief at first but towards the end my quads were starting to feel trashed by such a long downhill run. The next long descent came after 39km and dropped 1360m over the next 14km. This descent started as a gradual decline but then got steeper and steeper as it neared the valley floor. If my quads had been complaining before, they were in agony by the bottom of this descent. I’ve never needed to take walking breaks on a downhill run before. Where can you train for that level of downhill running in Britain?

So why hadn’t I trained to run downhill this year. There are two reasons. One is because of my fairly ambitious target of running 26 marathons or ultra marathons, which has meant many weekends away from home running, but not necessarily doing the right sort of running. The other reason is one I mentioned previously in that I underestimated how hard the TDS would be. I had casually assumed that I could run all those other events and just slip in the TDS as another event during the year. I now realise that the TDS requires more respect and I should have been doing more targeted training. The Thunder Run had helped prepare me for staying on my feet for a long period of time, but it is such a soft event by comparison. The North Downs Way had been a great event to do earlier on, but I should have followed this with another tough and perhaps more mountainous event, i.e. The Welsh 3000s Sky Race. This is now noted for next year.

The reasons above set out why I think I failed with the benefit of hindsight and from analysing my performance in the cold light of day. There is also a part of me that still thinks I could have perhaps finished, but perhaps a broken man. Part of me believes that maybe I should have sat down, had something to eat and given myself a talking to, and that maybe, just maybe I could have pressed on to the next checkpoint. However, at the point that I abandoned I do also know that I was in a lot of pain.

I had just spent 5 hours 30 minutes travelling 16kms. The previous checkpoint was at Bourg Saint Maurice at an elevation of 840m. Over the next 16kms we had to first ascend 1530m over a distance of 10kms, then we descended a short 140m over 2.5kms followed by another 330m ascent over a short 1.5kms. This was then followed by a steep 540m descent over 2kms. That last descent averages out at a gradient of 1 in 3.7, but the top of the descent was probably steeper than 1 in 1 and was the section that required ropes. I came very close to falling off the side of the mountain at this point and it was only my grasp of the rope that prevented me from plummeting to a serious injury or worse. Once over the roped section the gradient levelled out slightly for the next third of the descent and levelled out even more over the last third. By the time I reached the checkpoint my knees felt trashed, I was slightly shaken by my near fall, and I was knackered. I looked at the profile for the remaining 50kms and took in how much descent was required. I wasn’t so put off by the remaining 2500m of ascent, but I seriously couldn’t imagine doing any more descents. My head had been filling up with negative thoughts anyway, as I wasn’t progressing as quickly as I thought I should be, but with my knees in agony from the last descent I came to the decision to pull out of the event.

Ruth was waiting for me at the checkpoint, and I guess having the opportunity to get on a bus back to Chamonix with her was also appealing. When we got on the bus and sat down my legs still throbbed with pain. I couldn’t get comfortable. Sitting with my knees bent to 90^o was painful. Having my legs stretched out in the aisle of the bus was painful. The most comfortable position was to lay out flat with my legs up on the opposite seats across the aisle of the bus. We had to wait a good 45 minutes before the bus departed for Chamonix. As we waited several more runners got on the bus, which was a small comfort, at least I wasn’t alone, but a part of me also hoped the bus wouldn’t get too full as I selfishly wanted to hold on to the three seats I was taking up.

I am still in pain today, four days after the event. My knees still hurt a small amount, but my worst pain now is in my back, which I’m sure is connected to the run in some way but probably not helped by carrying a heavy backpack around on the journey home yesterday. On the whole I do feel I made the right decision in abandoning the race, but that still doesn’t deflect my disappointment. My level of regret only makes me realise how much I want to go back and complete the event. So I am determined to train better and give it another go next year.

I did say there are plenty of positives I can take away from the event. One is that it got me to run and trek through some very beautiful and demanding terrain in the Italian and French Alps. If it hadn’t been for the TDS I would never have visited that particular corner of this amazing planet that we live on, and now I will have a second go at trekking and running through that environment. It has also been the hardest event that I have ever taken part in. I still have ambitions to complete the full 168km UTMB, and the 67kms I managed to complete this time has given me greater respect for the region, for the all the races in the UTMB week and for all those who do complete each of the races. I will also make sure that in future I will treat each ultra event I enter with the level of respect they deserve. I never want to fail at an event again, so I will make sure I do not over look any aspect of the required training. Not completing an ultra marathon has been a new experience, as has dealing with the disappointment. I believe I will be able to draw from the experience to give me strength and greater determination in future.

Chamonix, I will be back!

View of Mont Blanc

Can I Taper Now?

Confession time.  I've been struggling with motivation this weekend.  I had intended doing two back-to-back long runs, but it hasn't happened.

On Saturday morning I awoke without the benefit of an alarm clock, which seemed utter bliss.  I actually lay in bed and contemplated having a lazy day.  But I knew the weather forecast for Sunday was awful with ex-hurricane Bertha hitting our shores.  So with this in mind I forced myself out of the door with a 21 mile run in mind.  I packed my Salomon running backpack with two bottles of water and a few slices of malt loaf, along with items that definitely wouldn't be needed just to add some bulk.

Once I was out the door and running all felt fine in the world and I was so glad I hadn't succumb to the lure of a lazy day on the sofa.  Because I'd been so tardy in the morning it was 10am by the time I'd set off and it was starting to get warm.  I was heading off towards the Roman Road bridleway that heads all the way to Linton village, 10.5 miles from home.

As I ran along the Roman Road I rapidly gained ground on two elderly ladies running ahead of me.  I always have a dilemma as to whether I should call out or not when approaching someone from behind on a footpath.  On this occasion I decided to shout out, "I'm just passing on your right."  But in doing so the two ladies jumped and latched onto each other like Shaggy and Scooby.

Just in case you don't know what I mean!

I stopped and apologised, at which point they started laughing and told me they were fine. I asked if they would prefer that I had warned them of my approach or just run by without saying anything. "My dear, I'd rather you'd just carried on past us like the wind," one told me.  So I decided that this is what I'd do next time.

I reached my halfway point at the Linton Water tower, ate two slices of malt loaf and set about running back towards Cambridge. I was slightly concerned that I didn't have enough water with me and I started to question why I hadn't also filled my water bladder.  There was nothing I could do about it now, I'd have to just make do with what I had.

As I was running back along the Roman Road I spotted two female runners ahead of me. Time to try the silent overtaking approach, I thought.  I quickly gained ground on them and as they were running in single file there was plenty of space for me to pass them. I decided to speed up a little so I could pass nice and quickly, and perhaps to also show off, which can't be ruled out. As I drew alongside the tale runner she jumped in the air and shouted, "Oh, gosh!".  Then a fraction of a second later the front runner of the two also jumped and shouted, "Oh, gosh!".  I haven't cleaned up their exclamations for your benefit, that is exactly what they both shouted.  I apologised and continued on my way with my dilemma unresolved.  I guess I will either have to try loud coughs from some distance away or start singing whilst I run.

About 5 miles from home I had almost drained both water bottles. I saved the last two mouthfuls for when I'd really need them. Problem was I could tell I needed them right now. My pace was really dropping and I could tell that I was starting to feel a little dehydrated. I spent a lot of time walking and jogging over the next couple of miles, but once I was only two miles from home I gave myself a little talking to and picked up the pace so I could get home as quick as possible and towards the lure of some cold water. As so as I got home I gulped down two glasses of water, which is not recommended but it tasted and felt so good.

My 21 mile run had taken exactly 2 hours 50 minutes, not bad on an undulating trail run on a warm day and with a lack of fluid. Afterwards my legs felt trashed for the rest of the day. I couldn't believe I'd only run 21 miles, what was going on? Perhaps it was the dehydration, perhaps it is just the cumulative effect of all the long runs I've done recently, but with just 2.5 weeks to go until TDS it wasn't doing my confidence much good. 

I decided to put any ideas of another long run on Sunday on hold and see how I felt in the morning. Ruth and I spent Saturday evening in a pub with some friends. Every time I got up from the table I was reminded of the mileage in my legs. I really did feel like an old man.

We woke this morning expecting there to be chaos all around as ex-hurricane Bertha stormed into town, but it seemed much calmer than expected. My legs were feeling a little better so I started to contemplate maybe just running 16 miles. Then as I was preparing breakfast the rain started to lash down and the wind picked up. With the weather looking threatening my legs started to feel like a rest day was in order. So no running has taken place today. I'll go in the morning instead. Perhaps!

Making Mountains Out Of Mole Hills

With just a few weeks to go until the 112km TDS run around Mont Blanc I need to put the finishing touches to my training. Over the last few weeks I've been heading out to Magog Down just south of Cambridge and running around a very small hilly circuit. Someone had suggested to me some time ago that running whilst towing a tyre was a good way to train for a hilly race when you don't have access to hilly terrain. So this is what I've been doing.

On Saturday morning I first went to Cambridge parkrun to act as a volunteer marshal. I probably get as much enjoyment out of being a marshal at parkrun as I do running it. I also feel as if I'm doing my bit for the running community. After all, almost all the runs I do rely on volunteers and without them there would be no races to attend, so it's good to put something back.

Immediately after parkrun I headed over to Magog Down. Ruth came with me so that she could get out for some fresh air and to take some photos of the nutter with a tyre. I usually start with a 2km warm-up run, which takes about 10 minutes. After that I attach myself to the tyre using a dog harness and clipping it onto a ring that I attached to the tyre. Then I start my slow runs around what is roughly an 800m loop that goes up and over a hill close to the car park. I'm not so interested in the distance, my aim is to keep on going for roughly one hour in total. As each lap passes by it gets harder and harder to run up the hill. By the third and fourth lap I run up for a bit, then walk a bit, and so on. By lap seven it is pretty much a case of walking most of the way up. The tyre towing is a very good way to make a small hill feel like a big hill. The effort does feel like plodding up a steep mountainside, so I'm hoping it is strengthening up my legs and helping to prepare me for all the climbs in TDS. As the hour mark approaches I unclip myself and run a lap without the tyre, which feels so easy by comparison. 

Tyre towing to make a small hill feel like a big hill.

On Sunday I met up with a group of running friends at 8am at Magog Down once again (Jamshid, Paul, Mike, John, Lynne & Hattie) and we headed off for a 12 mile run along the Roman Road. It was great to be out with other people for a sociable Sunday run. I haven't had this opportunity for what seems like months. When we got back to the car park I once again hooked myself up to my tyre to run a few more hilly laps with slightly tired legs. This time the second lap seemed like a killer, so I called it a day at that point.

Next weekend my aim is to do two back-to-back long runs. Then it will be taper time.

Adidas 24 Hour Thunder Run

The goals are starting to get a little more ambitious now. My next event will be the 112km TDS race from Courmayer in Italy to Chamonix, France. This is what I view as being my toughest run of the year. It's not so much the distance that will be the killer as the 7,150m of total ascent. There is a 31 hour cut off time for completing the event, which in itself is an indication of how tough the event is. I'm expecting to complete it in around 24 hours, and because of this I viewed the 24 hour Adidas Thunder Run as being a major stepping stone in my preparation for the TDS.

I ran the Thunder Run in 2013 and completed 110km in total. Last year I drew up a list of objectives, which included not getting injured and to run at least 100km.

I ran the Thunder Run again last weekend and drew up a similar list of objectives, which were:

- To have fun (which I believe must always be the primary objective for anything we do).
- To not get injured.
- To avoid stopping for sleep if at all possible.
- To run between 120km and 160km. 

I was really hoping to run 160km, i.e. 16 laps of the 10km course, but 120km would also represent the furthest I'd ever run in a single event. Having run the event before I knew that stopping for food would result in long delays. Last year there was just one food tent and at certain times there were long queues for food. Most people were happy for solo runners to jump the queue, but this couldn't be guaranteed.

Maybe I should explain that most people taking part in the Thunder Run compete in relay teams of anything between two and eight people per team. In total 7,600 people took part last weekend, and just 150 of those were running as solo runners, or "nutters" as most people call them. I was one of those nutters.

To speed up my access to food I decided to be self sufficient to a certain extent. So I loaded a cool box Friday morning with:

- 4 bottles of Lucozade sport.
- 1 litre of coconut water, which is a natural electrolyte drink.
- 3 cheese sandwich bread rolls.
- 1 fruit cake.
- 1 Soreen malt loaf.
- 1 Soreen banana loaf.

I also had a few Shot Bloc energy gels with me and electrolyte tablets. Despite taking some food with me I still expected to stop at the food tent for some rest and re-fuelling.

Get my food supplies ready Friday morning.

Several friends from Cambridge were taking part as an eight person relay team: Anne, Jo, Viona, Jason, Chris, Faried, Nils and Paul. The three girls are all members of the Sweaty Betty running club that I coach. I also travelled down with Gaz, who was part of my eight man Channel Row event two years ago (as was Jason) and who was also running solo. On Friday night we had a relaxing and fun time sat around the camp site sharing stories and carbo loading.

I also knew several Cambridge runners who were running in a number of other teams, and Nigel, another solo runner. So all in all it was going to be a fairly sociable weekend as well as a running challenge.

The girls preparing food for the barbie.

Solo runners' guide to carbo loading - Gaz has cake, I have beer.

I had a fairly restless night on Friday but I tried to stay in my tent to get as much rest as possible Saturday morning. At about 9am I finally got up and went for breakfast number 1 - a bacon and egg roll. This was followed by porridge at about 10.30am. Then it was just a case of killing time before the start at 12 noon.

Jason, Jo, Anne, Nils, Gaz, Chris, Viona, Paul, me and Faried

Apart from posing for a series of group photos such as the one above, I spent most of the morning lying under the shade of a tree. The last hour dragged on and I couldn't wait to get started. When it was finally time to line up I slumped off to the very back of the start line with Nigel. 

And there off...
(photo by Richard Youell)

Gaz looking like a Ninja in his headband. The arrow points to me.
Yellow numbers indicate solo runners.
(photo by Richard Youell)

I had no set strategy for the 24 hours ahead. I knew I wanted to keep going for the first 50km without a significant break. I also wanted to run the entire first lap. This was impossible as everyone is reduced to a walk up the first hill due to the volume of people, but from there on I ran up ever hill for the first lap, and most of the second lap.

Queuing to go up the first hill through the woods.

 

It was really hot by mid day on Saturday and I decided to run with as little as possible. This meant just a run belt with one water bottle, my camera and an emergency energy gel. I got round my first three laps in about 54 minutes each time. After the third lap I ditched my camera and picked up some malt loaf from the cool box just inside my tent. Solo runners have their own camping spot right by the start/finish line so it doesn't take up too much time going back to the tent, but the process of collecting food from my tent still added about 5 minutes to each lap.

It was always great to see friends on the run. Jo on her first lap out.

Chris just about to overtake me on my fourth lap, with Richard just behind in the red T-shirt.

After my fourth lap I decided to fill my water bottle with Lucozade, and to have a brief break back at camp of about 15 minutes.  I then ran my fifth lap to complete the first 50k in just over 5 hours, so I was very happy with how my progress was going. 

I can also confirm that objective 1 was so far being achieved. I was really enjoying the run. I felt way better than I did the previous weekend in the Chilterns. I was running with a big smile on my face, which hadn't gone unnoticed by spectators and other runners. Some of the spectators commented that I was looking way to happy for a solo runner, some asked what drugs I was on. My smile got me noticed and meant that I got lots of encouragement from the crowd, who I waved at and high fived as I ran around. I also found that running with a smile helped to reinforce the fact that I was running for fun. It also took my mind off how much I was hurting.

Around the course there were a few small groups of kids with water pistols trying to keep the runners cool. I got to know one small group of five kids very well. Every time I passed I would stop in front of them and shout, "Come on, get me! Give me more!". Or something to that affect. By my third lap they were looking out for me and would jump up and down with joy on my approach. After my fourth lap they started shouting,"Here comes our favourite customer." And this then continued for the whole of the Saturday. Sadly, I didn't see them on Sunday, so I guess their parents had other plans for them.

One group of relay runners, who had camped alongside the run route, were collecting the names of all the solo runners as we passed. They kept their own long list of our names next to our run numbers. One person on lookout would shout out, "Runner number 4 approaching", (my number). Then another crew member would check their list and as I ran past they would then shout out, "Well done Alan, you're looking fantastic." Towards the end of the run this particular group commented on how good I was looking and I felt that I was getting a bigger reaction from them than other solo runners. Perhaps that was just in my head, but it certainly helped me feel good.

That's another lap completed.

After lap 5 I was feeling really hot,so I lay under a tree in the solo camping area for 30 minutes to cool down. Gaz was already lying in the shade having had the same idea. After 30 minutes I pressed on but was still finding it to be really hot so at the end of lap 6 I headed to the food tent for tea and cake, I think it was about 6:20 at this stage.  

I then headed out for lap 7 just before 7pm, it was slightly cooler by now, but I realised that I hadn't eaten any proper food since breakfast, so I decided I'd have a proper break at the end of the lap. So with 70km covered I decided to stop for roughly an hour and to eat a steak baguette, which was washed down with a can of coke.

During my dinner break I got talking to a few other runners in the food tent who were all in awe of the solo runners. This is one of the great things about the Thunder Run. When you take part in most ultra marathons you are running with other ultra marathon runners, and we never consider each other to be odd or super human. However, at the Thunder Run most of the 7,600 runners taking part are in teams of 5 to 8 and they tend to view the solo runners as amazing athletes, either that or completely bonkers. The truth is we just have a little more will power and the ability to put up with pain and to keep on going when our legs are screaming at us to stop. That's the only secret, the ability to endure pain. 

Water and sponges at about halfway. The volunteers did a great
job at keeping us hydrated and cool.

I got lap 8 in just before it started to get dark. Parts of the forested sections were already getting quite dark in the late afternoon light. So after 80km I headed back to the tent and picked up my running back pack, which had in it two head torches, jacket and a long sleeve top, just in case.

It wasn't long before the head torch went on. The laps were starting to get slower. Lap 9 took a little under 1 hour 15 minutes, and lap 10 took 1 hour 20 minutes.  I had covered 100km in just over 13 hours, with plenty of stops. 

At this stage I decided to stop for another steak baguette. I then decided to go to my tent for a 30 minute rest. I lay on top of my sleeping bag in my running kit and slowly got colder. It wasn't long before I got inside my bag to get warm, and the cozy warmth of my bag seduced me into extending my 30 minute break, which became two hours before I knew it. I was very tempted to spend the whole night in my sleeping bag, but I really wanted to be out running through the dawn, so I forced myself to get up.

Runners in the night.
(photo by Jason Evans)

I had a complete change of clothing and headed back to the trails. I was initially really cold so I had three layers of clothing on: a T-shirt, long sleeve top and jacket. The jacket came off on the walk up the second hill, and the long sleeve top soon followed.

I completed the next two laps without a stop. Sun rise happened on my 12th lap, my favourite time of day. I had another break of about 40 minutes for more tea and cake after lap 12. I then completed the next 3 laps in one go. My final lap took 1 hour 8 minutes, which I think is pretty impressive after 150km on a reasonably hilly course, and with some twisty sections through woods with plenty of exposed tree roots.

This was me towards the end of either lap 14 or 15. Looks like I had already started celebrating.

I was just starting to feel a twinge or two in my right knee on the last lap. I finished my 15th lap just before 11am. In theory I could have gone for another lap to hit 160km, but I reminded myself of my second objective; to not get injured. I decided that this objective should outweigh any distance goals, so on those grounds I called it a day.

It wasn't long after I'd stopped that I met up with Gaz, then Jo and Jason, and soon after that Viona and Chris and the rest of the Cambridge team. Chris and Viona kindly got me a drink whilst Jason went off to hand in my timing chip and to collect my medal. I was feeling absolutely exhausted and in pain. Whilst I was making a feeble attempt to do some stretching Jason rounded us up for a final group photo with our medals.

Thunder Runners and support crew of one.

After the photo shoot I headed back to my tent for a lie down. It was roasting in my tent, but despite that I slept through the award ceremony and woke two hours later to discover that the site was practically deserted. Gary was also snoozing in his tent, but at about 2.30pm we decided it was time to pack up and to head to Tamworth to check in to the Travelodge. 

Tamworth was just a short drive away, and we found the hotel without any problems. I still hadn't had anything to eat since finishing the run, so we order a snack to be delivered to our room. The microwaved cheese and bacon muffin might well have been the worst thing I've ever eaten, but the calories it supplied were very welcome. We then had another sleep before heading out for an evening meal. 

I can't recommend Tamworth for a Sunday night out. I doubt it's up to much any other day of the week, but on this particular Sunday it seemed like a fairly bleak place. Walking through the city centre I felt as if I'd been transported back to the 1960s. Most of the pubs looked uninspiring and there was a distinct lack of restaurants. We ended up in an Italian restaurant by default rather than judgement, as it was the only half decent place open. The large calzone pizza went down very nicely, though.

The next morning I was surprised at how good I felt. Of course my legs were a little stiff, but they weren't in any way as bad as I had expected. The drive home was relatively straight forward and pain free. And once I was home I spent most of the afternoon sat in front of the TV catching up on the final stages of the Tour de France and some of the Commonwealth Games.

And that is now run number 16 of the year completed.