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.