........who you haven't had contact with in a while, my blog has been there at the back of my mind - neglected, ignored but not outrightly abandoned.
Life is being incredibly kind to me. I won't gush with the details, suffice to say I have distractions other than running right now for which running has almost become the forgotten victim.
I'm slacking, it's true. The holidays don't help but next week I'll be back with renewed vigour and a race plan for next year to shake things up yet again and no that does NOT include Smokies. Hmm, controversial.....
Friday, 29 October 2010
Friday, 17 September 2010
moving through space at a million miles an hour...
It's been a busy couple of months with life getting in the way of not only blogging but running too. Never saw that coming! I've not been a total slacker I must point out. The week following the Clyde Stride was the Tour of Fife. Okay so I didn't have the best of tours this year but it was fun all the same (I'm not sure that's what I said at the time however). The week after that we did a recce of the Ochil 2000s route which was much tougher than I imagined and confirmed my decision not to enter the actual race, with the following week being some unfinished business with the Fling route (report below) which was quite possibly one of the best most epic days out ever and one that will stay with me for a long time to come.
And it didn't stop there. We headed up to Blairgowrie theweek after that to run part of the Cateran Trail. We only covered about 12 miles but it was a hard session and I managed just about to keep up on the return journey to Blair. And there it kinda did stop. I've done very little else in the last few weeks and with a meagre 10 miles covered a couple of weeks ago things were not looking particularly good for both the RAW race and Loch Ness Marathon. My naive attempt to play catch-up was put into action last week with double sessions, 2 long runs and 2 races on the Saturday. Mistake, it only led to lurgy. RAW was looking unlikely earlier this week but with a bit of gentle persuasion (i.e. absolutely none whatsoever) I'm in. Apparently fortune favours the bold, or brave, or stupid even....
Anyway, on to the Fling.....
Highland Fling Route Friday 13th August 2010
Perhaps a tad optimistic to attempt this on Friday 13th but I'm not superstitious so I don't care! My original plan of a solo venture leaving Milngavie at 6am hoping to reach Tyndrum at 8.20pm for the bus home was soon abandoned in favour of a bit of company and a well executed plan to leave a car at Tyndrum. Cracking idea that one...
An 8am start turned into a 9.15am start as Colin faffed and faffed a bit more. We were loaded up with grub, water and cash as we headed off into the tunnel.
Milngavie - Balmaha
It's always hard to admit you're struggling so early into a run but I was. I enforced the walk the hills and eat often rules and spend more time shuffling that actually running. A dodgy tummy didn't help (apologies campers at Gartness.....) but we reached Drymen without incident and headed off towards Conic Hill. It was a stunning day: the sun was out, it was perhaps a little warm but we laughed and joked all the way making the time pass with amazing ease. We breezed by a group of walkers who had set up camp on the foot of Conic Hill for a much-needed picnic before attempting the final push to the summit. It was definitely worth the climb - the views were amazing. At the top we stopped to take a few photos of the views where I inadvertently head-butted Colin as he attempted to take a photograph of me.
The descent was littered with walkers with poles so we made our way down without delay (note to self - don't attempt to follow a hill-runner down Conic Hill) soon arriving in Balmaha amid tourist chaos. I suggested a drink of juice in the Oak Tree Inn so Colin had a pint and soon thereafter we entered the twilight zone of time.
Balmaha - Rowardenen
I always forget how tough this section is but the stunning weather and great company were making relatively light work of it, or at least that's how I remember it now. And that's about all I remember.
Rowardenen - Inversnaid
This particular section marked a rollercoaster of emotion for me with memories of the actual Fling flooding back. This back then was the make or break section. Today I was going to make it. It was easy this time and a demon that has been well and truly exorcised. As we were running low on food (my fault for making us eat it all early on....) we planned to stop at Inversnaid for chips and coke. Despite being hotel dinner time, it appeared that making us a plate of chips was too much effort so we settled for a panini. They even warmed them up for us!! It tasted good though, anything would have right then and we spent probably too much time enjoying the break before hauling our asses off and out again.
Inversnaid - Bein Glas
We were well fuelled and hyper as we attempted a spot of rock hopping. It was easier than it should have been but we were having a blast. After the bothy we caught up with a young guy pushing his bike uphill. Poor lad was really struggling but we breezed by laughing at the irony. We then caught his mate who was waiting for him and laughed again as he complained at having been on a bike since 9am. Aw bless!! They never did catch us up. We were flying along towards Bein Glas but once we reached there we ground to an abrupt stop.
Being Glas - Tyndrum
It was getting tough. We were getting tired. We walked much of the section between Bein Glas and Derrydarroch and didn't quite pay enough attention at how quickly darkness was creeping up on us. By the time we traipsed across the coo pat path and entered Ewich Forest, it was pitch black and only one of us had a headtorch - um, me by the way! And therein the struggle really began. Initially it was funny. That didn't last. The headtorch was as bright as the glow from a candle and didn't lend itself to sharing. It was essentially the blind leading the blinder through the torturous journey to the roadside, a journey fraught with terror, humour and trust. By the time we reached the roadside we had already decided to try and call a taxi from wherever we could to get us up the road to Tyndrum but with no mobile signal that was out of the question. To continue using the poor light from the headtorch was out of the question so we were left with little option but to try and hitch a lift. When that failed the only option was to begin the walk up the road to Tyndrum. By sheer luck and incredible good fortune shortly after we began the walk a mini bus with a family heading to Oban stopped and took us the rest of the way. We laughed, they laughed, the relief was immense. And when we arrived at Tyndrum, the car was waiting like a knight in shining armour ready to transport us home. We even had the keys!!
And it didn't stop there. We headed up to Blairgowrie theweek after that to run part of the Cateran Trail. We only covered about 12 miles but it was a hard session and I managed just about to keep up on the return journey to Blair. And there it kinda did stop. I've done very little else in the last few weeks and with a meagre 10 miles covered a couple of weeks ago things were not looking particularly good for both the RAW race and Loch Ness Marathon. My naive attempt to play catch-up was put into action last week with double sessions, 2 long runs and 2 races on the Saturday. Mistake, it only led to lurgy. RAW was looking unlikely earlier this week but with a bit of gentle persuasion (i.e. absolutely none whatsoever) I'm in. Apparently fortune favours the bold, or brave, or stupid even....
Anyway, on to the Fling.....
Highland Fling Route Friday 13th August 2010
Perhaps a tad optimistic to attempt this on Friday 13th but I'm not superstitious so I don't care! My original plan of a solo venture leaving Milngavie at 6am hoping to reach Tyndrum at 8.20pm for the bus home was soon abandoned in favour of a bit of company and a well executed plan to leave a car at Tyndrum. Cracking idea that one...
An 8am start turned into a 9.15am start as Colin faffed and faffed a bit more. We were loaded up with grub, water and cash as we headed off into the tunnel.
Milngavie - Balmaha
It's always hard to admit you're struggling so early into a run but I was. I enforced the walk the hills and eat often rules and spend more time shuffling that actually running. A dodgy tummy didn't help (apologies campers at Gartness.....) but we reached Drymen without incident and headed off towards Conic Hill. It was a stunning day: the sun was out, it was perhaps a little warm but we laughed and joked all the way making the time pass with amazing ease. We breezed by a group of walkers who had set up camp on the foot of Conic Hill for a much-needed picnic before attempting the final push to the summit. It was definitely worth the climb - the views were amazing. At the top we stopped to take a few photos of the views where I inadvertently head-butted Colin as he attempted to take a photograph of me.
The descent was littered with walkers with poles so we made our way down without delay (note to self - don't attempt to follow a hill-runner down Conic Hill) soon arriving in Balmaha amid tourist chaos. I suggested a drink of juice in the Oak Tree Inn so Colin had a pint and soon thereafter we entered the twilight zone of time.
Balmaha - Rowardenen
I always forget how tough this section is but the stunning weather and great company were making relatively light work of it, or at least that's how I remember it now. And that's about all I remember.
Rowardenen - Inversnaid
This particular section marked a rollercoaster of emotion for me with memories of the actual Fling flooding back. This back then was the make or break section. Today I was going to make it. It was easy this time and a demon that has been well and truly exorcised. As we were running low on food (my fault for making us eat it all early on....) we planned to stop at Inversnaid for chips and coke. Despite being hotel dinner time, it appeared that making us a plate of chips was too much effort so we settled for a panini. They even warmed them up for us!! It tasted good though, anything would have right then and we spent probably too much time enjoying the break before hauling our asses off and out again.
Inversnaid - Bein Glas
We were well fuelled and hyper as we attempted a spot of rock hopping. It was easier than it should have been but we were having a blast. After the bothy we caught up with a young guy pushing his bike uphill. Poor lad was really struggling but we breezed by laughing at the irony. We then caught his mate who was waiting for him and laughed again as he complained at having been on a bike since 9am. Aw bless!! They never did catch us up. We were flying along towards Bein Glas but once we reached there we ground to an abrupt stop.
Being Glas - Tyndrum
It was getting tough. We were getting tired. We walked much of the section between Bein Glas and Derrydarroch and didn't quite pay enough attention at how quickly darkness was creeping up on us. By the time we traipsed across the coo pat path and entered Ewich Forest, it was pitch black and only one of us had a headtorch - um, me by the way! And therein the struggle really began. Initially it was funny. That didn't last. The headtorch was as bright as the glow from a candle and didn't lend itself to sharing. It was essentially the blind leading the blinder through the torturous journey to the roadside, a journey fraught with terror, humour and trust. By the time we reached the roadside we had already decided to try and call a taxi from wherever we could to get us up the road to Tyndrum but with no mobile signal that was out of the question. To continue using the poor light from the headtorch was out of the question so we were left with little option but to try and hitch a lift. When that failed the only option was to begin the walk up the road to Tyndrum. By sheer luck and incredible good fortune shortly after we began the walk a mini bus with a family heading to Oban stopped and took us the rest of the way. We laughed, they laughed, the relief was immense. And when we arrived at Tyndrum, the car was waiting like a knight in shining armour ready to transport us home. We even had the keys!!
Monday, 19 July 2010
Clyde Stride Ultra 17 July 2010
The Start
The race brief has started, but I'm in the queue in Morrisons at Partick Station bursting for a pee. It can't wait.
Gail and I arrived about an hour or so before, successfully off-loading drop-bags and saying a few hellos. I see Debs and shout "I'M A WARRIOR" (see previous blog post) as she gets my number. I wander over and stand alongside Dave Waterman and ask why he's wearing jeans. He looks at me in a "who the fuck are you?" kinda way before explaining that he's helping Mrs Mac first and is about to get changed, which is just as well as we both have unfinished ultra business to attend to. (I am left wondering just how long it took??) Sharon and I are in matching outfits which is pretty funny and just goes to show there's nothing in the clothing!
matching outfits and matching haircuts. 75% of these people actually ran...
Photo by Debbie Martin Consani
Section 2
I'm feeling pretty good here and, thanks to a packet of Pom Bear crisps, the queasiness has gone. As the trail thins out I leave Mark behind and get on with the business of running. I catch a few folk up and we all stupidly follow someone else the wrong way around nowheresville until an old biddy who doesn't even know what street she lives in points us in the right direction. Right... We're soon back on track having done a huge circle but I'm pissed off. I'm really really pissed off actually. All the folk who were well behind me are now in front and I'm seething as I struggle on towards Strathclyde Park. I'm not cheered by the woman I catch who wants to chat and use me as pacemaker, stopping when I stop, running when I run (I keep testing this to make sure I'm not making it up). I'm still grumpy and not in the slightest bit chatty so I force the pace on a bit and leave her and soon catch up with another girl. She's impressed I'm doing this after only running 4 years so I like running with her! We're both convinced though that we've missed the checkpoint. We've not, it's just across the motorway, at which point the girl's either had enough of the race or my company and attempts a suicide dash across with her eyes closed while I scream "WATCH THE CAR" and she wakes up. Me too... I'm surprised to see Mark already there but he's not doing so well. He's puked a couple of times. I offer sympathy but little else, I really have to go. Sorry mate...
Section 3
The woman who wants to chat runs alongside me again at the Loch but I'm really not in the mood and while today's objective is "all about the finish" I'd quite like to do it at least before the last train to Partick leaves, otherwise it's a hell of a long walk from Lanark home on my own. So off I go and suddenly I spring to life. 22 miles in and I've warmed up. The bottle of coke and caffeine laced paracetamol I took at the checkpoint probably helped. I follow Tim for a few minutes further along the path but soon pass by. He's not so happy. I catch up with and pass a few others then run the next couple of miles with Ellen and Alyson enjoying their chat. They're pretty confident I'll finish.
Section 4
We arrive at the checkpoint and I don't hang around. I want to keep moving. I grab my coke and crisps and munch on the go. I arrive at the undulations and am surprised to catch a few folk up here. Probably because I batter my way down the hills but also partly because passing folk is a huge psychological boost. I spend the next few miles trying to maintain a decent steady pace in an attempt to put as much ground as possible between me and those I've passed. It seems to have worked as I'm running in total isolation now. I like! I catch up with more folk who are struggling with either fatigue or injury and I'm energized by their suffering. I even pass on some advice on the best way to be sick when your body won't give it up (it can only be the bulimic approach, as adopted by yours truly at the Cateran Ultra).
I meet a couple who ask about the race and assure me that the finish isn't far off. They're a couple of lying bastards. My useless piece of crap garmin has now died and I guess that the finish must only be about 3 miles away. No, it's at least 5 and from this point I start to really struggle. My insides are churning, the coke isn't helping and my pace is all but standstill. I find the section back onto the walkway a struggle as it zigzags its way down before eventually reaching steps built for giants that go all the way up to the moon. I see New Lanark village and think we can't be far off. I run along with a guy who's also struggling a bit. The cheering we heard soon fades and I realise this is the loop that takes us round to the finish. We can't be far. The boardwalk section is runnable but my insides are struggling with the motion so I run/walk and sigh a heavy sigh as Ellen breezes past. I'm done, I can't catch her. But the cheering gets louder again and there it is, the crowds of folk and the finish. I fling myself along towards the finish punching the air in sheer delight and fall right into Sandra's arms nearly ripping her head off in the process (sorry missus). I'm then the grateful recipient of the biggest hug in the world from Lee who's chuffed to bits I've finished. Me too!!
The race brief has started, but I'm in the queue in Morrisons at Partick Station bursting for a pee. It can't wait.
Gail and I arrived about an hour or so before, successfully off-loading drop-bags and saying a few hellos. I see Debs and shout "I'M A WARRIOR" (see previous blog post) as she gets my number. I wander over and stand alongside Dave Waterman and ask why he's wearing jeans. He looks at me in a "who the fuck are you?" kinda way before explaining that he's helping Mrs Mac first and is about to get changed, which is just as well as we both have unfinished ultra business to attend to. (I am left wondering just how long it took??) Sharon and I are in matching outfits which is pretty funny and just goes to show there's nothing in the clothing!
matching outfits and matching haircuts. 75% of these people actually ran...
Photo by Debbie Martin Consani
Section 1
Being the miserable bugger I am, I'm quite partial to running alone, yet Mark and I start together and while it isn't planned I'm happy enough with company for now. We're definitely going too fast though, anything from 8mm to 10mm and I soon develop a stitch. Nuun juice sorts me out and we meander along following the diversion and passing a few folk before losing time figuring out where the guy we were following went. Turns out he went along the Clyde. We do too and I enjoy this section and the more sensible pace we've now adopted. We get to the first checkpoint and Mrs Mac gives me a ticking off for going out too quick while I nervously confess that I'm already feeling a bit queasy. I gasp in disbelief that Dave is there still sporting (I use the term loosely...) his jeans. Rumour has it he had a blouse on under his jacket too!Section 2
I'm feeling pretty good here and, thanks to a packet of Pom Bear crisps, the queasiness has gone. As the trail thins out I leave Mark behind and get on with the business of running. I catch a few folk up and we all stupidly follow someone else the wrong way around nowheresville until an old biddy who doesn't even know what street she lives in points us in the right direction. Right... We're soon back on track having done a huge circle but I'm pissed off. I'm really really pissed off actually. All the folk who were well behind me are now in front and I'm seething as I struggle on towards Strathclyde Park. I'm not cheered by the woman I catch who wants to chat and use me as pacemaker, stopping when I stop, running when I run (I keep testing this to make sure I'm not making it up). I'm still grumpy and not in the slightest bit chatty so I force the pace on a bit and leave her and soon catch up with another girl. She's impressed I'm doing this after only running 4 years so I like running with her! We're both convinced though that we've missed the checkpoint. We've not, it's just across the motorway, at which point the girl's either had enough of the race or my company and attempts a suicide dash across with her eyes closed while I scream "WATCH THE CAR" and she wakes up. Me too... I'm surprised to see Mark already there but he's not doing so well. He's puked a couple of times. I offer sympathy but little else, I really have to go. Sorry mate...
Section 3
The woman who wants to chat runs alongside me again at the Loch but I'm really not in the mood and while today's objective is "all about the finish" I'd quite like to do it at least before the last train to Partick leaves, otherwise it's a hell of a long walk from Lanark home on my own. So off I go and suddenly I spring to life. 22 miles in and I've warmed up. The bottle of coke and caffeine laced paracetamol I took at the checkpoint probably helped. I follow Tim for a few minutes further along the path but soon pass by. He's not so happy. I catch up with and pass a few others then run the next couple of miles with Ellen and Alyson enjoying their chat. They're pretty confident I'll finish.
Section 4
We arrive at the checkpoint and I don't hang around. I want to keep moving. I grab my coke and crisps and munch on the go. I arrive at the undulations and am surprised to catch a few folk up here. Probably because I batter my way down the hills but also partly because passing folk is a huge psychological boost. I spend the next few miles trying to maintain a decent steady pace in an attempt to put as much ground as possible between me and those I've passed. It seems to have worked as I'm running in total isolation now. I like! I catch up with more folk who are struggling with either fatigue or injury and I'm energized by their suffering. I even pass on some advice on the best way to be sick when your body won't give it up (it can only be the bulimic approach, as adopted by yours truly at the Cateran Ultra).
I meet a couple who ask about the race and assure me that the finish isn't far off. They're a couple of lying bastards. My useless piece of crap garmin has now died and I guess that the finish must only be about 3 miles away. No, it's at least 5 and from this point I start to really struggle. My insides are churning, the coke isn't helping and my pace is all but standstill. I find the section back onto the walkway a struggle as it zigzags its way down before eventually reaching steps built for giants that go all the way up to the moon. I see New Lanark village and think we can't be far off. I run along with a guy who's also struggling a bit. The cheering we heard soon fades and I realise this is the loop that takes us round to the finish. We can't be far. The boardwalk section is runnable but my insides are struggling with the motion so I run/walk and sigh a heavy sigh as Ellen breezes past. I'm done, I can't catch her. But the cheering gets louder again and there it is, the crowds of folk and the finish. I fling myself along towards the finish punching the air in sheer delight and fall right into Sandra's arms nearly ripping her head off in the process (sorry missus). I'm then the grateful recipient of the biggest hug in the world from Lee who's chuffed to bits I've finished. Me too!!
guess who's happy to finish?? [Photo by David Hall]
Post-race
I hug everyone. I'm really chuffed, even more so to get under 8 hours which was pretty much the target. Gail and Richie have both done well but have had a bit of a wait (um, sorry....) and we've missed the last bus up to the train so Murdo gives us a lift (thanks Murdo!!) the train arrives and the journey back is easy!
As for the eating thing, it's still something I have to perfect. Coke works a treat so I'll be sticking with that. Nuun was good but then I lost the tablets which were in my bag all along and made do with just water. Ginger snaps gave me heartburn, pork pies were tolerable (okay so I only ate about quarter of 1) the custard I didn't even look at and the teddy bear crisps were not only tasty but made me smile so they can stay.
So, where to now???
Friday, 16 July 2010
It's all about the finish....
Clyde Stride 17 July 2010
It's lucky this race hasn't been held before, otherwise I'd have spent the week poring over previous results and coming up with all kinds of ridiculous schedules to meet some fantastical time I'm unlikely to run.
So here we are then with just 18 hours to the start and I'm ready. I'm ignoring all the rules. I'm running in shoes I've not run a long run in, I'm wearing a new pair of shorts that may or may not cause a degree of chaffing, I'm planning to eat food I've never consumed in a long run before (mini pork pies - Tim's suggestion, ginger nut biscuits - Debs, Nuun juice - Kate and others, custard - why not?) and I'm wearing a Garmin. Why? It's nothing to do with rebellion or even any deliberate act of indifference, I just figured that the normal rules haven't worked so far so why the hell not.
And my mantra - it's all about the finish, it's all about the finish, it's all about the finish (repeat for 40 miles......). Watch this space.....
It's lucky this race hasn't been held before, otherwise I'd have spent the week poring over previous results and coming up with all kinds of ridiculous schedules to meet some fantastical time I'm unlikely to run.
So here we are then with just 18 hours to the start and I'm ready. I'm ignoring all the rules. I'm running in shoes I've not run a long run in, I'm wearing a new pair of shorts that may or may not cause a degree of chaffing, I'm planning to eat food I've never consumed in a long run before (mini pork pies - Tim's suggestion, ginger nut biscuits - Debs, Nuun juice - Kate and others, custard - why not?) and I'm wearing a Garmin. Why? It's nothing to do with rebellion or even any deliberate act of indifference, I just figured that the normal rules haven't worked so far so why the hell not.
And my mantra - it's all about the finish, it's all about the finish, it's all about the finish (repeat for 40 miles......). Watch this space.....
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
June - woeful...
It's not been the best of months. Not just for running but for life too. What can possibly be worse than your ex being in a smug new relationship while living under the same roof as you? Then again, it's a situation of my own making so just desserts I guess.
Running? Aye running's fecking great eh? Run run and run some more that way you have less time to dwell on everything else. So, other than mope and indulge in self-pity I have done.....
Strathallan 5 Road Race - disaster, couldn't pace myself at all and struggled round most of it!
Beveridge Park 5k - disaster, couldn't pace myself at all and struggled round most of it!!
7 Hills of Edinburgh - disaster, had just arrived back from doing WHW support and was barely conscious...
Dundee Half Marathon - disaster, couldn't pace myself at all and struggled round most of it. Actually gave up and walked half of it as I couldn't be arsed.....
All coming together nicely then eh? Clyde Stride is gonna be a breeze, or maybe that's a weather prediction...
Running? Aye running's fecking great eh? Run run and run some more that way you have less time to dwell on everything else. So, other than mope and indulge in self-pity I have done.....
Strathallan 5 Road Race - disaster, couldn't pace myself at all and struggled round most of it!
Beveridge Park 5k - disaster, couldn't pace myself at all and struggled round most of it!!
7 Hills of Edinburgh - disaster, had just arrived back from doing WHW support and was barely conscious...
Dundee Half Marathon - disaster, couldn't pace myself at all and struggled round most of it. Actually gave up and walked half of it as I couldn't be arsed.....
All coming together nicely then eh? Clyde Stride is gonna be a breeze, or maybe that's a weather prediction...
Sunday, 6 June 2010
Picky Bugger - Reinventing the wheel...
What started out as a blog about food, has turned into something rather more contemplative. To be perfectly frank I've lost focus and it's taken a while for me to reach that conclusion.
I began 2010 with one goal and one race entry - the Highland Fling. Following the failure of that I randomly entered every race available in a misguided attempt to redeem myself. What has followed has been a serious of disasters and training runs that would make even Scott Jurek weep (well maybe not...). Having discussed my recent lack of success with other far more experienced runners, it's clear what's happening.
Moving on to the issue of nutrition, there lies a problem. I'm notoriously fussy. Planning what to eat on an ultra is therefore as much a challenge as the race itself. I've listened to and read shedloads of advice but I'm not really much further forward. I can't stomach gels, I hate ginger, I detest milkshake type stuff, I dislike honey and complan etc. makes me boak. I have just 6 weeks to fix this...
I began 2010 with one goal and one race entry - the Highland Fling. Following the failure of that I randomly entered every race available in a misguided attempt to redeem myself. What has followed has been a serious of disasters and training runs that would make even Scott Jurek weep (well maybe not...). Having discussed my recent lack of success with other far more experienced runners, it's clear what's happening.
- I'm not an experienced runner. I've been in this game about 4 years and I'm trying to tackle much too soon. There's an assumption that by ultra training I've completed countless half and full marathons. Wrong. I've done 3 halfs and 1 marathon. As I say, not very experienced.
- I'm expecting too much of myself. I'm expecting to run well at shorter races just because I've done a lot of miles. Nope! I have to decide what my main goal is and concentrate on that. I can't expect to perform well at everything, particularly when a 5 mile road race comes 2 days after a 28mile training run!
- I don't have much reserve. At under 7 stone there's not much of me. I really need to sort out eating in both long training runs and races.
Moving on to the issue of nutrition, there lies a problem. I'm notoriously fussy. Planning what to eat on an ultra is therefore as much a challenge as the race itself. I've listened to and read shedloads of advice but I'm not really much further forward. I can't stomach gels, I hate ginger, I detest milkshake type stuff, I dislike honey and complan etc. makes me boak. I have just 6 weeks to fix this...
dying a death at the Strathallan 5 Road Race
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
Learning the hard way....
Cateran Trail Ultra - 55miles 15th May 2010
Maybe the first signs of trouble came after I hurled the veggie burger I had in the hotel. I put it down to the journey - even as the driver, the road to Spittal of Glenshee makes me boak. By morning I felt fine though and managed a couple of bits of toast and 3 cups of tea.
I started the race conservatively but I wasn't quite ready yet to start walking the inclines so I ran them, picking folk off in the process. At the first drop-bag point (Dalnagair) I was already ahead of my best-case schedule by 10 minutes. I enjoyed half a banana and a slug of coke before making my way to Kirkton of Glenisla. By the time I arrived there I was 15minutes ahead and feeling fantastic. I ate half my crisp roll and enjoyed another large slug of coke. It was all going so well....
I struggled on towards Den of Alyth. The rubbery tasting water from my camelbak was making me feel ill so I had already stopped drinking it and at Den of Alyth I texted Sue, the best support crew you could wish for, to bring me a bottle of decent stuff at Blairgowrie. I knocked back about 300ml of coke and another half banana and made my way towards Blairgowrie now 13mins behind schedule but feeling okay.
I must have sprouted wings en-route to Blairgowrie. I know I battered my way down the downhills, not caring how trashed my quads might feel the next day. I met Sue who had tea and choccy digestives waiting - fantastic! I had 3 cups, 1 biscuit and about a third of a muller rice. I was surprised to see that by now I was about 5 minutes ahead again and after 31miles feeling good.
The route to Bridge of Cally was the only familiar thing about this race, having done it in the relay at last year's 23miler, other than the vomit that came shortly thereafter. I struggled along and felt queasy when I arrived at the checkpoint now 6mins behind. I bit a banana, sniffed at the rest of the contents of my drop bag and stropped on. By now I was finding running difficult but walking was tolerable. I met Sue up the track who insisted I chew on some crystalised ginger, whether I liked it or not! It was a distraction if nothing else but I was soon gagging and retching and with no visible results it was time for the bulimic approach which worked a treat. Sue left, I felt great, briefly, but it didn't last. From that point everything that hit my stomach promptly reappeared.
I got slower and slower with everyone now going past me and when I reached a fence about 80ft high (seriously) with no clear signs of how to get over it, I succumbed a rock to contemplate my next move. It was obvious really, I was in no position to continue. I texted Sue, who was waiting at Enochdhu, to meet me at Kirkmichael where I was bailing out - again.
Sophie with her dodgy knee and on-board pharmacy caught me up and she kindly walked with me until Sue arrived just outside Kirkmichael where the decision was made more or less for me that I wasn't going any further, having now gone 5 hours without fluid.
I only made Sue stop once so I could puke at the roadside on the journey back to the Spittal where, rather annoyingly, after a lie down, a shower and a bite to eat I felt just fine. At 9pm I contemplated getting someone to drive me down to Kirkmichael so I could finish, I still had 3 hours until the cut-off after all, but we schemed a plan instead to run the final section in the morning.
Sunday
I woke at 5am ravenous - a good sign! At breakfast I consumed more than I'd usually eat in a whole day and at 10am Angus drove me, Karen and George to Kirkmichael to run back to Spittal of Glenshee. It was a glorious morning, I had a fabulous time, great gossip and the final pelt down towards the hotel marked my finish, albeit 12 hours late. As an incredibly generous gesture by the wonderful Karen I was even awarded my race memento. Handy having the RD as a personal friend!!
Analysis
So what went wrong? Retrospectively it's obvious (isn't it always....). I didn't eat or drink nearly enough early on. Why? I was in a race, I didn't have time to eat. I had a target in mind and a schedule to follow and nothing was going to get in my way. Except it did, and it's a lesson I've learned the hard way.
Slapped wrists, onwards yet again......
*WARNING - THIS BLOG ENTRY CONTAINS EVERY
KNOWN WORD FOR VOMIT*
Maybe the first signs of trouble came after I hurled the veggie burger I had in the hotel. I put it down to the journey - even as the driver, the road to Spittal of Glenshee makes me boak. By morning I felt fine though and managed a couple of bits of toast and 3 cups of tea.
I started the race conservatively but I wasn't quite ready yet to start walking the inclines so I ran them, picking folk off in the process. At the first drop-bag point (Dalnagair) I was already ahead of my best-case schedule by 10 minutes. I enjoyed half a banana and a slug of coke before making my way to Kirkton of Glenisla. By the time I arrived there I was 15minutes ahead and feeling fantastic. I ate half my crisp roll and enjoyed another large slug of coke. It was all going so well....
I must have sprouted wings en-route to Blairgowrie. I know I battered my way down the downhills, not caring how trashed my quads might feel the next day. I met Sue who had tea and choccy digestives waiting - fantastic! I had 3 cups, 1 biscuit and about a third of a muller rice. I was surprised to see that by now I was about 5 minutes ahead again and after 31miles feeling good.
The route to Bridge of Cally was the only familiar thing about this race, having done it in the relay at last year's 23miler, other than the vomit that came shortly thereafter. I struggled along and felt queasy when I arrived at the checkpoint now 6mins behind. I bit a banana, sniffed at the rest of the contents of my drop bag and stropped on. By now I was finding running difficult but walking was tolerable. I met Sue up the track who insisted I chew on some crystalised ginger, whether I liked it or not! It was a distraction if nothing else but I was soon gagging and retching and with no visible results it was time for the bulimic approach which worked a treat. Sue left, I felt great, briefly, but it didn't last. From that point everything that hit my stomach promptly reappeared.
I got slower and slower with everyone now going past me and when I reached a fence about 80ft high (seriously) with no clear signs of how to get over it, I succumbed a rock to contemplate my next move. It was obvious really, I was in no position to continue. I texted Sue, who was waiting at Enochdhu, to meet me at Kirkmichael where I was bailing out - again.
I only made Sue stop once so I could puke at the roadside on the journey back to the Spittal where, rather annoyingly, after a lie down, a shower and a bite to eat I felt just fine. At 9pm I contemplated getting someone to drive me down to Kirkmichael so I could finish, I still had 3 hours until the cut-off after all, but we schemed a plan instead to run the final section in the morning.
Sunday
I woke at 5am ravenous - a good sign! At breakfast I consumed more than I'd usually eat in a whole day and at 10am Angus drove me, Karen and George to Kirkmichael to run back to Spittal of Glenshee. It was a glorious morning, I had a fabulous time, great gossip and the final pelt down towards the hotel marked my finish, albeit 12 hours late. As an incredibly generous gesture by the wonderful Karen I was even awarded my race memento. Handy having the RD as a personal friend!!
Analysis
So what went wrong? Retrospectively it's obvious (isn't it always....). I didn't eat or drink nearly enough early on. Why? I was in a race, I didn't have time to eat. I had a target in mind and a schedule to follow and nothing was going to get in my way. Except it did, and it's a lesson I've learned the hard way.
Slapped wrists, onwards yet again......
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
Chumbawamba
You know the one, I get knocked down but I get up again.... So I did and I have. Not without a fight though. Post Fling was tough, much much tougher than I was letting on. I spent days hiding and moping and pretending I was feeling better than I actually was. Truth is I was ill all week but shhhh, don't tell anyone.
Then I got a message from Mrs RD of the Cateran Trail Ultra suggesting I swap my role as marshall for a place (at a price....) and ping, off I hop into frantic organisation mode again.
And so it was on the Tuesday, in a bid to scrape myself off the floor, I resumed training at the club much to the horror of those there. Why why why they asked? Why why not I said. Um, because you still look like death. Even after a pep talk from El Presidente, in which I agreed to take it easy all week doing nothing more strenuous than a brisk stroll, there I was on the Thursday lining up at the start for the Kinross 10k. I still had the shakes but there were cakes after and I was almost starting to feel human again.
All things considered it wasn't a bad race, in fact, I did okay coming within a couple of seconds of my PB. Hmm, imagine what I could do healthy..... I deluded myself just 36hours later that running strongly on the Thursday night meant I could bag a 5k PB at the Parkrun on the Saturday. Mistake. After a mere 1k running through treacle I pulled out with heavy legs and canny-be-arsedness. Gosh, 2 DNFs in a week.
On Sunday night I belted round 7.2miles along the unlit road and through the dark spooky woods to Limekilns to collect my car from the previous evening's piss-up. On Monday I really belted round 11miles after planning a week of training like a demon and then blasted through another 5 on Tuesday night. But now I'm strapped up tighter than a nun's chastity belt as my calf has twanged yet again. It's my own fault, I never got any pre-Fling niggles so the niggle gods have got their revenge.
Never mind though, a couple of days of obsessive icing, massaging and stretching and it'll be just fine for the Cateran Ultra. Yeah??
Then I got a message from Mrs RD of the Cateran Trail Ultra suggesting I swap my role as marshall for a place (at a price....) and ping, off I hop into frantic organisation mode again.
And so it was on the Tuesday, in a bid to scrape myself off the floor, I resumed training at the club much to the horror of those there. Why why why they asked? Why why not I said. Um, because you still look like death. Even after a pep talk from El Presidente, in which I agreed to take it easy all week doing nothing more strenuous than a brisk stroll, there I was on the Thursday lining up at the start for the Kinross 10k. I still had the shakes but there were cakes after and I was almost starting to feel human again.
going so fast at Kinross 10k I'm all a blur...
All things considered it wasn't a bad race, in fact, I did okay coming within a couple of seconds of my PB. Hmm, imagine what I could do healthy..... I deluded myself just 36hours later that running strongly on the Thursday night meant I could bag a 5k PB at the Parkrun on the Saturday. Mistake. After a mere 1k running through treacle I pulled out with heavy legs and canny-be-arsedness. Gosh, 2 DNFs in a week.
On Sunday night I belted round 7.2miles along the unlit road and through the dark spooky woods to Limekilns to collect my car from the previous evening's piss-up. On Monday I really belted round 11miles after planning a week of training like a demon and then blasted through another 5 on Tuesday night. But now I'm strapped up tighter than a nun's chastity belt as my calf has twanged yet again. It's my own fault, I never got any pre-Fling niggles so the niggle gods have got their revenge.
Never mind though, a couple of days of obsessive icing, massaging and stretching and it'll be just fine for the Cateran Ultra. Yeah??
Sunday, 25 April 2010
Highland Fling 24 April 2010
How NOT to run an ultra.....
Put the waves of nausea the day before and immediately prior to the race down to nerves. Arrive at the start of the race on an empty stomach and pray to whoever may be listening that a piece of banana will keep you right til Balmaha. Search for good bush cover for 10 miles and convince yourself that after a trip there you'll be fine. Repeat this at every (frequent) visit. Persuade yourself 20miles in at Balmaha that a fingernail piece of tattie and a slug of coke is plenty fuelling to get to Rowardenen 7 miles away. Ignore the fact that you've already puked and continue to put it all down to nerves.
Convince yourself as you approach Rowardenen that it's the jacket tied around your waist that's causing all the problems and plan to ditch it at the next checkpoint. At said checkpoint ignore the fact that everyone thinks you look like death and after enjoying a real toilet stop and ditching the jacket, soldier on having consumed 2 mini cheddars and a fruit pastill. Promptly hurl them back up once you get out of view, that way they won't haul your ass back and pull you out of the race.
Battle with yourself continually throughout the next section that as long as you can keep running, despite now puking every 2 minutes, you can still finish. Continue this train of thought when even running downhill becomes impossible and particularly when the walk becomes a shuffle. Arrive at Inversnaid and hope that once you open your drop bag everything will be fine. When it's not, inform the marshall that you're not a quitter but seriously ill and seeth too lifeless to knock his teeth out while he very loudly shouts to another marshall "we have a quitter".
Spend the next 2.5 hours debating your decision and contemplate withdrawing your withdrawal and carrying on to Bein Glas for purely logistical reasons before the sweeper arrives and it's no longer an option. Endure the car journey from hell to the finish, forcing the driver to stop every few miles for a puke break. Arrive at the finish a crumpled heap and watch in envy as everyone else celebrates.
Congratulations, you now know how NOT to run an ultra. To do it properly, you'll have to read someone else's blog.
Put the waves of nausea the day before and immediately prior to the race down to nerves. Arrive at the start of the race on an empty stomach and pray to whoever may be listening that a piece of banana will keep you right til Balmaha. Search for good bush cover for 10 miles and convince yourself that after a trip there you'll be fine. Repeat this at every (frequent) visit. Persuade yourself 20miles in at Balmaha that a fingernail piece of tattie and a slug of coke is plenty fuelling to get to Rowardenen 7 miles away. Ignore the fact that you've already puked and continue to put it all down to nerves.
Convince yourself as you approach Rowardenen that it's the jacket tied around your waist that's causing all the problems and plan to ditch it at the next checkpoint. At said checkpoint ignore the fact that everyone thinks you look like death and after enjoying a real toilet stop and ditching the jacket, soldier on having consumed 2 mini cheddars and a fruit pastill. Promptly hurl them back up once you get out of view, that way they won't haul your ass back and pull you out of the race.
Battle with yourself continually throughout the next section that as long as you can keep running, despite now puking every 2 minutes, you can still finish. Continue this train of thought when even running downhill becomes impossible and particularly when the walk becomes a shuffle. Arrive at Inversnaid and hope that once you open your drop bag everything will be fine. When it's not, inform the marshall that you're not a quitter but seriously ill and seeth too lifeless to knock his teeth out while he very loudly shouts to another marshall "we have a quitter".
Spend the next 2.5 hours debating your decision and contemplate withdrawing your withdrawal and carrying on to Bein Glas for purely logistical reasons before the sweeper arrives and it's no longer an option. Endure the car journey from hell to the finish, forcing the driver to stop every few miles for a puke break. Arrive at the finish a crumpled heap and watch in envy as everyone else celebrates.
Congratulations, you now know how NOT to run an ultra. To do it properly, you'll have to read someone else's blog.
these guys were creeping me out
Saturday, 17 April 2010
Obsessing, Tapering and Number Crunching
I'm tapering. It sucks. I have far too much time on my hands and I don't like it. But it's part of the process so I have to do it. I thought that if I belted round a parkrun today it would make me feet better. It didn't. It only whet my appetite further. On a plus note, however, talking with David has made me feel almost sane. He's going through exactly the same emotions as I am.
Currently then I'm analysing previous years' results, reading every race report and blog I can and preparing list upon list upon list. I can recite the splits needed to finish in the various target times (which will not be repeated aloud) of best case, worse case and that'll do case.
I've done the training, I think. I've almost covered more miles this year than the whole of 2008 and it's only mid April. I've done several biggies - a 24, 33, 24, 22, 42, 27 a fair few 18-20s and oodles of everything else. I hope it's enough, not too little and not too much.
I'm terrified. I'm excited. I just want to get on with it. I'm like a kid at Christmas wishing my life away just to get to that day. I'm grumpy, moody, and contemplative, more so than usual.
But all good flings come to those who wait they say. I hope they're right.
Currently then I'm analysing previous years' results, reading every race report and blog I can and preparing list upon list upon list. I can recite the splits needed to finish in the various target times (which will not be repeated aloud) of best case, worse case and that'll do case.
I've done the training, I think. I've almost covered more miles this year than the whole of 2008 and it's only mid April. I've done several biggies - a 24, 33, 24, 22, 42, 27 a fair few 18-20s and oodles of everything else. I hope it's enough, not too little and not too much.
I'm terrified. I'm excited. I just want to get on with it. I'm like a kid at Christmas wishing my life away just to get to that day. I'm grumpy, moody, and contemplative, more so than usual.
But all good flings come to those who wait they say. I hope they're right.
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
The Long Way Round
Balmaha-Drymen(ish)-Balmana Sunday 4 April 2010
I've done it. I've completed the last piece of the puzzle that is the Highland Fling route. Well, almost.....
It was a toss-up between Conic Hill and Norman's Law hill race on Sunday and even though Norman's Law came highly recommended, I wasn't sure I was in the right frame of mind for a race. And so it was a meander up Conic Hill starting from Balmaha with the intention of going out past Drymen a couple of miles to complete the section I did first but got lost at the end and find that missing link. By 10am I had reached the top of Conic Hill and briefly contempleted Norman's Law too but that would still leave me with a feeling of imcompleteness.
So onwards it was to Drymen where every bugger was out with their trekking poles. I think they're standard issue on coach trips. I hate the things. I don't see the point of them on something like that. It's like those folk training to walk a 5k with a full back-up crew while carrying a litre bottle of water. Why???? Sorry, I digress. A couple of nutters heading to Tyndrum passed by and I was glad to be seen running! At the end of the forest I stopped to check the various maps confident I knew where I was and where I was going, promptly turning left uphill on exit. Wrong.... I eventually turned around and headed down towards Drymen and failing to spot any further posts or signage I carred on through Drymen and out on the (A811) looking for my missing link. I didn't find it.
Having done 11 or so miles already and only really planning 16 for the day, I concluded I was lost again and turned around back to Drymen. I successfully found my way back to the forest, decidedly pissed off that I still had a bit missing. I had a great run through the forest and met Debs at the bottom of Conic Hill pausing for a few minutes chat. I started the climb up Conic and spotted another runner coming up behind me. She was storming up the hill while I was walking (wuss) so I let her get on with it. Towards the descent I could see she wasn't too far ahead so I blasted my way down through the mud, snow, slush and stones to catch up. It was working. I was definitely stronger on the downhill and confident I'd catch up. I nearly did but come the bottom of the hill and into the forest she was off like a rocket. I was pumped up by now and pelted past more walkers hoping to catch up in the car park. I never did, but it had been great fun and my own mini race.
But again something was missing. That tiny section of about a mile or so that I just cannot get. I more or less found it in the car afterwards, but it's just not the same. I think I feel another trip coming on.....
I've done it. I've completed the last piece of the puzzle that is the Highland Fling route. Well, almost.....
It was a toss-up between Conic Hill and Norman's Law hill race on Sunday and even though Norman's Law came highly recommended, I wasn't sure I was in the right frame of mind for a race. And so it was a meander up Conic Hill starting from Balmaha with the intention of going out past Drymen a couple of miles to complete the section I did first but got lost at the end and find that missing link. By 10am I had reached the top of Conic Hill and briefly contempleted Norman's Law too but that would still leave me with a feeling of imcompleteness.
So onwards it was to Drymen where every bugger was out with their trekking poles. I think they're standard issue on coach trips. I hate the things. I don't see the point of them on something like that. It's like those folk training to walk a 5k with a full back-up crew while carrying a litre bottle of water. Why???? Sorry, I digress. A couple of nutters heading to Tyndrum passed by and I was glad to be seen running! At the end of the forest I stopped to check the various maps confident I knew where I was and where I was going, promptly turning left uphill on exit. Wrong.... I eventually turned around and headed down towards Drymen and failing to spot any further posts or signage I carred on through Drymen and out on the (A811) looking for my missing link. I didn't find it.
Having done 11 or so miles already and only really planning 16 for the day, I concluded I was lost again and turned around back to Drymen. I successfully found my way back to the forest, decidedly pissed off that I still had a bit missing. I had a great run through the forest and met Debs at the bottom of Conic Hill pausing for a few minutes chat. I started the climb up Conic and spotted another runner coming up behind me. She was storming up the hill while I was walking (wuss) so I let her get on with it. Towards the descent I could see she wasn't too far ahead so I blasted my way down through the mud, snow, slush and stones to catch up. It was working. I was definitely stronger on the downhill and confident I'd catch up. I nearly did but come the bottom of the hill and into the forest she was off like a rocket. I was pumped up by now and pelted past more walkers hoping to catch up in the car park. I never did, but it had been great fun and my own mini race.
But again something was missing. That tiny section of about a mile or so that I just cannot get. I more or less found it in the car afterwards, but it's just not the same. I think I feel another trip coming on.....
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
A New Hero?
Tyndrum - Inversnaid - Tyndrum Sunday 28 March 2010
I met a group of 3 guys at Inversnaid on Sunday who were walking the West Highland Way. We had arrived there at the same time: me from Tyndrum and them from Balmaha. I obliged by taking a few photos of them and paused for a welcome chat in what had sometimes been a lonely 5 hours. So impressed were they by my efforts that day they have dubbed me their new hero, their previous hero being Eddie Izzard. I don't know about that but it lifted my spirits.
It was perhaps not the best day for a long run on the WHW with the clocks going forward, David unable to make it at the last minute and the absence of my waterproof trousers (I sacrificed the space in my bag for food) but for the day's purposes I was going on GMT, BST can wait til later. Fortunately the Green Welly was operating on BST and I was able to buy some waterproof trousers. The weather had said fair - it lied.
I set off looking, not like an athelete, but rather, like I had borrowed my granda's old fishing gear. Someone ought to sex up waterproof running clobber. It was a bad start which wasn't going to get better when I went the wrong way. I crossed the railway and headed through the forest. Well I didn't see the sign so I thought I'd make up my own route. At least it brought me back onto the correct path after a 4 mile meander and by now I was well on my way towards Auchtertyre. I even know where that is!
I take ultra training seriously (no I do...). I train with the very best in ultra running and listen carefully to everything they say. They say to walk the hills so I do so without guilt. When climbing up Ewich Forest I'm glad these "rules" are in place. It's a trek. 2 smiling girls pass coming downhill - I'm jealous. I finally reach the top and head towards Crainlarich. From here to the road it's a mud bath with many a cow pat disguised as stones. Nice!
I passed through Bein Glas, found out what the crack yer heid tunnel was, and reached the edge of Loch Lomond in what seemed like record time. I fantasised about stopping at Inversnaid with a cup of tea and glass of coke, clearly underestimating how long it would take to negotiate my way round the rocks and gnarly trees. Inversnaid was beginning to look like a mirage. I arrived eventually but 10 minutes behind schedule. Well I had done an extra 4 miles! I got the coke but there was no time for tea. I ditched my granda's fishing breeks since the rain had been off a while and set off looking every bit the athelete pumped full of caffeine, sugar and banter. By the time I got to the Bothy it was teeming down. Back on with the breeks and by now I was glad to see the back of the loch. I headed towards Bein Glas where I stopped in a sheltered spot for some soggy-free grub. My useless garmin had by now run of off puff (lightweight) so it was on with the real watch so at least I knew the time of day if nothing else.
I was feeling good heading back towards Crainlarich despite various livestock issues along the way but as I slogged my way back through the cow crap and mud I came across about a hundred cows who had congregated on the path to terrorise me. It worked. Trying not to be outdone, I tricked them by climbing over the wall to bypass them. It was only pissing me off though as I trudged through bogs and clamboured back over the wall leaving me with more moss on my gloves than in a hanging basket. I was now in a pretty foul mood and heading towards my new nemisis, Ewich Forest. I climbed and climbed and struggled on resorting to music, with Guy Garvey helping through a rough patch, before finally reaching the road. It was becoming rather harder work that in should have been from here despite knowing Auchtertyre wasn't far away. I was out of food (well I had some mouldy tasting oatcakes left) and down at heart.
I passed through Auchtertyre and crossed the road to the community woodland, finding the actual real way back to Tyndrum. Ah, so that's where the By The Way is. I hadn't been able to run at all the last couple of miles because I was feeling so sick. I could keep a good pace walking but my stomach couldn't handle running. And even though it only took me an extra 5 minutes coming back the way (I blame the cows....) I felt as though I'd been out forever. Not because my feet or my legs were sore, but because I was absolutely ravenous. I shuffled around in the car to change before heading off to the Real Food Cafe for probably the most deserved fish & chips, tea and coke of anyone in there, maybe, before beginning the lonely dark journey home. Job done, down but not out.
Notes:
1. Today's food was 1.5l watery juice, can of coke, lots of water slurps from waterfalls, piece of ginger cake, piece of fruit cake, 1 apple, wee tub boiled tatties, single twix, single time out bar. Not nearly enough! Oh and 4 paracetamol (with caffeine of course).
2. Road shoes all the way today seemed to do the trick. Think I'll be wearing these come race day as my feet survived better than when I've used trail shoes.
I met a group of 3 guys at Inversnaid on Sunday who were walking the West Highland Way. We had arrived there at the same time: me from Tyndrum and them from Balmaha. I obliged by taking a few photos of them and paused for a welcome chat in what had sometimes been a lonely 5 hours. So impressed were they by my efforts that day they have dubbed me their new hero, their previous hero being Eddie Izzard. I don't know about that but it lifted my spirits.
It was perhaps not the best day for a long run on the WHW with the clocks going forward, David unable to make it at the last minute and the absence of my waterproof trousers (I sacrificed the space in my bag for food) but for the day's purposes I was going on GMT, BST can wait til later. Fortunately the Green Welly was operating on BST and I was able to buy some waterproof trousers. The weather had said fair - it lied.
I set off looking, not like an athelete, but rather, like I had borrowed my granda's old fishing gear. Someone ought to sex up waterproof running clobber. It was a bad start which wasn't going to get better when I went the wrong way. I crossed the railway and headed through the forest. Well I didn't see the sign so I thought I'd make up my own route. At least it brought me back onto the correct path after a 4 mile meander and by now I was well on my way towards Auchtertyre. I even know where that is!
I take ultra training seriously (no I do...). I train with the very best in ultra running and listen carefully to everything they say. They say to walk the hills so I do so without guilt. When climbing up Ewich Forest I'm glad these "rules" are in place. It's a trek. 2 smiling girls pass coming downhill - I'm jealous. I finally reach the top and head towards Crainlarich. From here to the road it's a mud bath with many a cow pat disguised as stones. Nice!
I passed through Bein Glas, found out what the crack yer heid tunnel was, and reached the edge of Loch Lomond in what seemed like record time. I fantasised about stopping at Inversnaid with a cup of tea and glass of coke, clearly underestimating how long it would take to negotiate my way round the rocks and gnarly trees. Inversnaid was beginning to look like a mirage. I arrived eventually but 10 minutes behind schedule. Well I had done an extra 4 miles! I got the coke but there was no time for tea. I ditched my granda's fishing breeks since the rain had been off a while and set off looking every bit the athelete pumped full of caffeine, sugar and banter. By the time I got to the Bothy it was teeming down. Back on with the breeks and by now I was glad to see the back of the loch. I headed towards Bein Glas where I stopped in a sheltered spot for some soggy-free grub. My useless garmin had by now run of off puff (lightweight) so it was on with the real watch so at least I knew the time of day if nothing else.
I was feeling good heading back towards Crainlarich despite various livestock issues along the way but as I slogged my way back through the cow crap and mud I came across about a hundred cows who had congregated on the path to terrorise me. It worked. Trying not to be outdone, I tricked them by climbing over the wall to bypass them. It was only pissing me off though as I trudged through bogs and clamboured back over the wall leaving me with more moss on my gloves than in a hanging basket. I was now in a pretty foul mood and heading towards my new nemisis, Ewich Forest. I climbed and climbed and struggled on resorting to music, with Guy Garvey helping through a rough patch, before finally reaching the road. It was becoming rather harder work that in should have been from here despite knowing Auchtertyre wasn't far away. I was out of food (well I had some mouldy tasting oatcakes left) and down at heart.
I passed through Auchtertyre and crossed the road to the community woodland, finding the actual real way back to Tyndrum. Ah, so that's where the By The Way is. I hadn't been able to run at all the last couple of miles because I was feeling so sick. I could keep a good pace walking but my stomach couldn't handle running. And even though it only took me an extra 5 minutes coming back the way (I blame the cows....) I felt as though I'd been out forever. Not because my feet or my legs were sore, but because I was absolutely ravenous. I shuffled around in the car to change before heading off to the Real Food Cafe for probably the most deserved fish & chips, tea and coke of anyone in there, maybe, before beginning the lonely dark journey home. Job done, down but not out.
Notes:
1. Today's food was 1.5l watery juice, can of coke, lots of water slurps from waterfalls, piece of ginger cake, piece of fruit cake, 1 apple, wee tub boiled tatties, single twix, single time out bar. Not nearly enough! Oh and 4 paracetamol (with caffeine of course).
2. Road shoes all the way today seemed to do the trick. Think I'll be wearing these come race day as my feet survived better than when I've used trail shoes.
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
An Idiot's Guide to Ultra Training........Part 2
At last, here it is, the eagerly anticipated follow-up to Part 1 coaches up and down the land have been waiting for....
So what's new in the Guide? Well for starters, it has occured to me that as a person who struggles to get up in the morning quite why I have opted for an ultra starting at 6am is beyond me. To prove that this is something I can overcome with a few early sessions on Sunday I got up at 6am to run part of the Lomonds Regional Park route. I was armed with maps, compass, usual food and drink and with a bellyful of toast and weetabix I made my way to Lochore Meadows, today's starting point. It was a disaster. I got lost. Enough said....
Other than that, it's been a successful few weeks. Lots of long runs, lots of short runs, the odd tempo run, though not necessarily at tempo pace, and an interval session or 2 again not at the intended pace. I've had a few sessions now on the Fling route (okay 2 but another planned for this coming weekend) and a few long road runs. These are hard because I've been feeling the pressure to keep the pace up more on the road than on the trails. Why? Who knows. I had a great afternoon up the snowy Lomonds and kept up the hill stuff on what's available nearby. I still can't climb a hill however and, as Sunday again proved, my sense of direction is staggeringly bad.
I've been partaking in the odd bit of cross training too. This is totally random and unscheduled of course and consists of cycling when Victor the Bus isn't quite feeling up to it (poor old bugger's heading to the scrapyard) and walking lots when my legs are feeling particularly trashed (e.g. after Carnethy). I've also been hopping. I thought it might be a good ankle strengthening exercise. Whether or not it is is irrelevant, it's such fun. 20 hops one side, swap to the other, repeat until you drop. Easy. You can do it standing still, up and down a room, there are no rules. See? This is useful stuff.
Is it all working? Well so far so good. I survived, even enjoyed, Carnethy, I had a great race and PB at Smokies and I've been enjoyng the picnic pace of the biggies. The dramatic weight loss appears to have settled but surely less weight = more speed?!
And that about sums up the latest instalment and with a mere 4 and a bit weeks to go until the big day, after this weekends biggest, longest ever training run it will be a simple case of maintenance. I may even indulge in a pre-race massage. Now that's something even real athletes do...
So what's new in the Guide? Well for starters, it has occured to me that as a person who struggles to get up in the morning quite why I have opted for an ultra starting at 6am is beyond me. To prove that this is something I can overcome with a few early sessions on Sunday I got up at 6am to run part of the Lomonds Regional Park route. I was armed with maps, compass, usual food and drink and with a bellyful of toast and weetabix I made my way to Lochore Meadows, today's starting point. It was a disaster. I got lost. Enough said....
Other than that, it's been a successful few weeks. Lots of long runs, lots of short runs, the odd tempo run, though not necessarily at tempo pace, and an interval session or 2 again not at the intended pace. I've had a few sessions now on the Fling route (okay 2 but another planned for this coming weekend) and a few long road runs. These are hard because I've been feeling the pressure to keep the pace up more on the road than on the trails. Why? Who knows. I had a great afternoon up the snowy Lomonds and kept up the hill stuff on what's available nearby. I still can't climb a hill however and, as Sunday again proved, my sense of direction is staggeringly bad.
I've been partaking in the odd bit of cross training too. This is totally random and unscheduled of course and consists of cycling when Victor the Bus isn't quite feeling up to it (poor old bugger's heading to the scrapyard) and walking lots when my legs are feeling particularly trashed (e.g. after Carnethy). I've also been hopping. I thought it might be a good ankle strengthening exercise. Whether or not it is is irrelevant, it's such fun. 20 hops one side, swap to the other, repeat until you drop. Easy. You can do it standing still, up and down a room, there are no rules. See? This is useful stuff.
Is it all working? Well so far so good. I survived, even enjoyed, Carnethy, I had a great race and PB at Smokies and I've been enjoyng the picnic pace of the biggies. The dramatic weight loss appears to have settled but surely less weight = more speed?!
And that about sums up the latest instalment and with a mere 4 and a bit weeks to go until the big day, after this weekends biggest, longest ever training run it will be a simple case of maintenance. I may even indulge in a pre-race massage. Now that's something even real athletes do...
Sunday, 7 March 2010
A Simple Plan....
...but perhaps a flawed one from the outset.
Smokies 10 Road Race 7 March 2010
Today's plan was to run the Smokies 10 in Arbroath, hop in the car and at breakneck speed head to Scotlandwell for the Bishop Hill race. Simple really until you factor in the timing. Fab did it last year. IzzieB and I planned to do it this year. Problem is I don't run half as fast as either of them. IzzieB and I journeyed together for obvious logistical reasons, timing our journey from the Kinross area to Arbroath. We guesstimated an hour, plus about 15 to get to Scotlandwell. It was gonna be tight....
Even though I was looking like a total prat in my new lang soaks, after a decent warm-up I was feeling pretty good. The plan was take it easy in the first few miles, belt around the last few. So I belted round the first 2 then dragged my ass up the hills round the next 2. Despite this and the undulations (highlighted by little home-made signs by the roadside, a great touch) I was feeling pretty good.
The miles came and went with alarming speed and having passed someone I know at half way, I was determined to keep up the pace. I hung on to the back of Kirsty, trying to pass on numerous occasions but she was clearly feeling strong at the same time I was so that was that.
I pulled out my fastest mile between 6-7 miles in. From where I don't know but it wasn't something I was able to maintain for long. The last couple of miles came and went in the blink of an eye and approaching the finish I could see the clock was on 1.21. I thought if I shift it I can be under 82mins so I did and I was. Official time 81:32 - a PB by 10 minutes. I can't believe I ran that fast and I'm absolutely chuffed to bits.
But it wasn't over yet. I grabbed my goody bag, stopped briefly to chat then dashed off to the car expecting to find IzzyB pedal to the metal raring to go. Nope. I dashed around the grounds of the leisure centre looking for her but no joy. When we finally found one another it was 12:35. We had agreed that the absolute latest we could lea
ve was 12.30. So we went back into the hall and stuffed ourselves silly with cake. I guess next year I'll just have to run even faster.....
Smokies 10 Road Race 7 March 2010
Today's plan was to run the Smokies 10 in Arbroath, hop in the car and at breakneck speed head to Scotlandwell for the Bishop Hill race. Simple really until you factor in the timing. Fab did it last year. IzzieB and I planned to do it this year. Problem is I don't run half as fast as either of them. IzzieB and I journeyed together for obvious logistical reasons, timing our journey from the Kinross area to Arbroath. We guesstimated an hour, plus about 15 to get to Scotlandwell. It was gonna be tight....
Even though I was looking like a total prat in my new lang soaks, after a decent warm-up I was feeling pretty good. The plan was take it easy in the first few miles, belt around the last few. So I belted round the first 2 then dragged my ass up the hills round the next 2. Despite this and the undulations (highlighted by little home-made signs by the roadside, a great touch) I was feeling pretty good.
The miles came and went with alarming speed and having passed someone I know at half way, I was determined to keep up the pace. I hung on to the back of Kirsty, trying to pass on numerous occasions but she was clearly feeling strong at the same time I was so that was that.
I pulled out my fastest mile between 6-7 miles in. From where I don't know but it wasn't something I was able to maintain for long. The last couple of miles came and went in the blink of an eye and approaching the finish I could see the clock was on 1.21. I thought if I shift it I can be under 82mins so I did and I was. Official time 81:32 - a PB by 10 minutes. I can't believe I ran that fast and I'm absolutely chuffed to bits.
But it wasn't over yet. I grabbed my goody bag, stopped briefly to chat then dashed off to the car expecting to find IzzyB pedal to the metal raring to go. Nope. I dashed around the grounds of the leisure centre looking for her but no joy. When we finally found one another it was 12:35. We had agreed that the absolute latest we could lea
ve was 12.30. So we went back into the hall and stuffed ourselves silly with cake. I guess next year I'll just have to run even faster.....
Saturday, 27 February 2010
From Balmaha to Inversnaid and beyond....
My "schedule" has decided it's long run time again so it's off to Balmaha to run to Inversnaid and back. I had initially planned Drymen-Rowardenen and back but following snow this week I didn't fancy going up Conic Hill and after reading Debbie's blog I'm glad I changed my plans.
The whiteout from the window at 7am wasn't reassuring. Ah bugger it I thought, worst case scenario I waste a few quid in fuel.
I arrived at Balmaha in perfect conditions. What was all the fuss about?? Snow? Not here! I got myself organised and set off walking, reminding myself that this was an exercise in time rather than distance, but within a few minutes I was trotting along feeling good.
On my last venture on the WHW it was like Princes St on a Saturday afternoon but today it looked like I had the place to myself. I was definitely going to enjoy this.
During the climb up Craigie Fort I was worried how much of my route would be like this but after the climb down running through the woodland was fabulous. I continued on towards Rowardenen then people! Damn, I was enjoying the solitude. Still, they were only walking and I soon lost then. I caught up with some old biddies who were out walking. They were impressed that I had caught them as they had passed me in the car as I ran through Balmaha (they started at Rowardenen). I said I was going to Inversnaid. They thought that was a long walk. I said I was running. When I said I was coming back to Balmaha they said that was a really long walk. I ran away.
Further along and Alan, a fellow first-time flinger who was also doing same section as me today but considerably faster, caught me up. After a brief chat I let him go on ahead. This section was fantastic and I was finding running easy. As I was heading down into Inversnaid, I met Alan again who decided to run on with me another 20mins past Inversnaid (I wasn't shirking on the 8 hours.) We met 3 ladies who had been going to Crainlarich but were advised against it! Good plan!! Last spotted heading for soup.....
After 20minutes of scrambling among the rocks and getting nowhere fast, we headed back but a couple of miles in despite how runable the section was, I was shocked to see we were doing 9min mile pace. Oh no no no . This was too fast for me. I had already missed 2 fuel breaks and while Alan's fuelling consisted of a slurp of water and a piece of malt loaf from his pocket, mine was a more casual rumage through my rucksack to see what looked appealing, a look about for a photo opportunity, an excuse to walk a few minutes, send random text messages. I let him go.....
A few folk, mostly schmoosing couples, the odd dog, were walking but that was it. Still all mine. In the more challenging uphill sections I kept myself entertained by DJing in my head. It's a rare talent and what a soundtrack! It's a mix of the Throwing Muses, Elbow, Bon Iver, Housemartins, Midlake, Miike Snow, Velvet Underground and the Archers and Pink Panther themes. Pah, who needs ipods.
I met a group of 4 guys at Rowardenen who had heard about this "lone female" from the WHW forum. They were just setting out for Crainlarich. I assured them that conditions towards Inversnaid were fine but didn't fancy their chances further north! They looked like they knew what they were doing tho.
I had a wee dip as I approached Cashel (which I always thought was in Ireland.....) and decided it was time for some more paracetamol. My feet were really aching. My trail shoes have never been out this long and because no training run would be complete without me getting lost, I missed a post and ended up doubling back on myself before realising I was heading north. Once I figured this out and get back on track I start storming along. Oh yes, the painkillers have taken effect.
I stayed on the road too long and had to climb the gate at Milarrochy Bay. Cross training? Balmaha though seems to be a lot further away on the way back and the climb up Craigie Fort takes the life out of me. The Archers/Bon Iver remix provided a welcome distraction and before long Balmaha was in sight. The sun over the Loch Lomond was low and breaking through the clouds between the trees providing another photo opportunity but before I became too complacent I broke into a run along the road then up the hill to the car park to see that I was 20 minutes ahead of schedule. I momentarily contemplated running on then thought that perhaps 33 miles was enough for one day!!
Notes:
The whiteout from the window at 7am wasn't reassuring. Ah bugger it I thought, worst case scenario I waste a few quid in fuel.
I arrived at Balmaha in perfect conditions. What was all the fuss about?? Snow? Not here! I got myself organised and set off walking, reminding myself that this was an exercise in time rather than distance, but within a few minutes I was trotting along feeling good.
On my last venture on the WHW it was like Princes St on a Saturday afternoon but today it looked like I had the place to myself. I was definitely going to enjoy this.
During the climb up Craigie Fort I was worried how much of my route would be like this but after the climb down running through the woodland was fabulous. I continued on towards Rowardenen then people! Damn, I was enjoying the solitude. Still, they were only walking and I soon lost then. I caught up with some old biddies who were out walking. They were impressed that I had caught them as they had passed me in the car as I ran through Balmaha (they started at Rowardenen). I said I was going to Inversnaid. They thought that was a long walk. I said I was running. When I said I was coming back to Balmaha they said that was a really long walk. I ran away.
Further along and Alan, a fellow first-time flinger who was also doing same section as me today but considerably faster, caught me up. After a brief chat I let him go on ahead. This section was fantastic and I was finding running easy. As I was heading down into Inversnaid, I met Alan again who decided to run on with me another 20mins past Inversnaid (I wasn't shirking on the 8 hours.) We met 3 ladies who had been going to Crainlarich but were advised against it! Good plan!! Last spotted heading for soup.....
After 20minutes of scrambling among the rocks and getting nowhere fast, we headed back but a couple of miles in despite how runable the section was, I was shocked to see we were doing 9min mile pace. Oh no no no . This was too fast for me. I had already missed 2 fuel breaks and while Alan's fuelling consisted of a slurp of water and a piece of malt loaf from his pocket, mine was a more casual rumage through my rucksack to see what looked appealing, a look about for a photo opportunity, an excuse to walk a few minutes, send random text messages. I let him go.....
A few folk, mostly schmoosing couples, the odd dog, were walking but that was it. Still all mine. In the more challenging uphill sections I kept myself entertained by DJing in my head. It's a rare talent and what a soundtrack! It's a mix of the Throwing Muses, Elbow, Bon Iver, Housemartins, Midlake, Miike Snow, Velvet Underground and the Archers and Pink Panther themes. Pah, who needs ipods.
I met a group of 4 guys at Rowardenen who had heard about this "lone female" from the WHW forum. They were just setting out for Crainlarich. I assured them that conditions towards Inversnaid were fine but didn't fancy their chances further north! They looked like they knew what they were doing tho.
I had a wee dip as I approached Cashel (which I always thought was in Ireland.....) and decided it was time for some more paracetamol. My feet were really aching. My trail shoes have never been out this long and because no training run would be complete without me getting lost, I missed a post and ended up doubling back on myself before realising I was heading north. Once I figured this out and get back on track I start storming along. Oh yes, the painkillers have taken effect.
I stayed on the road too long and had to climb the gate at Milarrochy Bay. Cross training? Balmaha though seems to be a lot further away on the way back and the climb up Craigie Fort takes the life out of me. The Archers/Bon Iver remix provided a welcome distraction and before long Balmaha was in sight. The sun over the Loch Lomond was low and breaking through the clouds between the trees providing another photo opportunity but before I became too complacent I broke into a run along the road then up the hill to the car park to see that I was 20 minutes ahead of schedule. I momentarily contemplated running on then thought that perhaps 33 miles was enough for one day!!
Notes:
- I am pleased to report that my imaginary running stalker(s) have made a reappearance (oxymoron??) They tend to follow me on training runs making sure I keep moving and giving me a kick up the backside when I start flagging.
- Today I consumed 1 double decker, half a boost bar, 1 raisin tracker bar (boak....), 1 banana, 1 pkt mini cheddars, 1.5l watery juice and 4 caffeine enriched paracetamol.
- Running on hardcore sucks.
- My sense of direction also sucks.
- I'm far too entertained in my own company. I should get out more :o)
Saturday, 20 February 2010
I only want to be left to my own ways
*WARNING* THIS BLOG ENTRY CONTAINS EXTREME WHINGEING. PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!
Phew, what a week! Some things that I have learned or become aware of this week are as follows:
- I don't take kindly to criticism. Okay so I didn't win Carnethy. I wasn't last either. Does that make me a bad person? Does that give anyone the right to criticise my efforts? I'm out there giving it a go and enjoying myself which is a damn sight more than a lot of people. So when somone had a go through the week about how crap I ran, how slow I was and told everyone I was a crap runner, I didn't take it very well. In fact, the following day I was very very annoyed. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind a bit of playful banter; what I draw the line at is personal attacks, regardless of how innocent their intention may be. This incident later led to a serious falling out at training on Thursday and frankly at the moment if we didn't cross paths again I'd be happy. I'll get over it though.....
- Hill running takes more out of me than I ever thought it would. I have really struggled this week. Sunday was bad, Monday worse although I did manage a painfully slow 5 miles. Tuesday I was able to run a decent-ish tempo run but Wednesday was a non starter. Thursday wasn't too bad but it was only about 4 miles, while Friday's planned 15-20 miler turned into a pitiful 9 and every one of those was hard going. I struggled out of bed at 7am on Saturday morning in an attempt to redeem myself and although it was marginally better, it was still a hard going 10 miles. Still, I'm hoping that running on trashed tired legs is good Fling training??
- Some of the kids at Boys Brigade are seriously unfit and overweight!! I took a group of BBs out on Thursday after training. Oh dear.... These are kids aged 11-16 and some of them could hardly do a brisk walk let alone a slow jog. I certainly had my work cut out!! Interestingly, I haven't been invited back....
- Lack of sleep is not good for your general well-being. Aren't the winter olympics useful in the wee small hours though?! Next week I'm going to attempt to chill out and sleep more. Yeah, easy peasy....
- I have some very good friends.... ...who looked after me after Thursday's meltdown and joined me in a breakaway training run.
- I need new jeans - these ones are hinging off me! Who needs weight watchers eh?!
So there we go, not even a race to report.....
Saturday, 13 February 2010
Perfect weather to fly.....
Carnethy 5 - 6 miles, 2500 ft
Fabienne recommended I do this race. She suggested it would be ideal training for the Fling. So I joined the online queue and got my entry in asap, confident that this was exactly the kind of run that would make my fling training. I bragged about my entry amid stifled sniggers and felt smug that I'd secured an entry while others were on the lengthy waiting list.
I had a conversation with Scott shortly thereafter and he, having done both races last year, laughed that hill running wasn't strictly necessary for the fling and that even he found Carnethy brutal. Oh....
At the start line I was across between hyper and nauseous. I 'joked' to spectators that they could have my number and soon we were off. I was suitably dosed up with paracetamol to assist both my lingering cold and calf pull, both of which have hampered my training all week, but not terribly optimistic about the outcome.
Be under no illusion, this is a tough race. The first climb is hard going wh
ile the vicious climb up Carnethy tests even the hardiest fell runners. I managed both successfully, albeit slowly, feeling strong in the sections inbetween. And just when I thought my legs couldn't take any more, along came the final sharp descent down. I bounded down the heather, hopped aboard my imaginery snowboard and glided down the scree, and sat on my backside and slid down the snow. The end in sight, I wasn't about to give up the places I had pulled back on the downhill and belted along the boggy grass to the finish line lungs bursting but full of joy.
It was a glorious day for running in the hills which perhaps helped my enjoyment and I'm told the scenery was good too. That I wouldn't know, I was too busy looking at my feet. But as I sit here some 30 hours later with every ounce of my body aching, I ask myself would I do it again? As soon as my legs recover, just try and stop me.....
Fabienne recommended I do this race. She suggested it would be ideal training for the Fling. So I joined the online queue and got my entry in asap, confident that this was exactly the kind of run that would make my fling training. I bragged about my entry amid stifled sniggers and felt smug that I'd secured an entry while others were on the lengthy waiting list.
I had a conversation with Scott shortly thereafter and he, having done both races last year, laughed that hill running wasn't strictly necessary for the fling and that even he found Carnethy brutal. Oh....
At the start line I was across between hyper and nauseous. I 'joked' to spectators that they could have my number and soon we were off. I was suitably dosed up with paracetamol to assist both my lingering cold and calf pull, both of which have hampered my training all week, but not terribly optimistic about the outcome.
Be under no illusion, this is a tough race. The first climb is hard going wh
ile the vicious climb up Carnethy tests even the hardiest fell runners. I managed both successfully, albeit slowly, feeling strong in the sections inbetween. And just when I thought my legs couldn't take any more, along came the final sharp descent down. I bounded down the heather, hopped aboard my imaginery snowboard and glided down the scree, and sat on my backside and slid down the snow. The end in sight, I wasn't about to give up the places I had pulled back on the downhill and belted along the boggy grass to the finish line lungs bursting but full of joy.It was a glorious day for running in the hills which perhaps helped my enjoyment and I'm told the scenery was good too. That I wouldn't know, I was too busy looking at my feet. But as I sit here some 30 hours later with every ounce of my body aching, I ask myself would I do it again? As soon as my legs recover, just try and stop me.....
Saturday, 23 January 2010
I haven't been myself of late....
Scottish Vets Road Relays Strathclyde Park
Forgive my crudeness, but I've had a bastard of a week. High mileage and the ever-increasing stress in my personal life probably contributed to the total meltdown I suffered on Thursday. This in turn almost led to a massive pile-up which was, thankfully, narrowly averted. *WARNING* too much time on your own thinking can seriously affect your health....
So when the desperate plea for a stand-in runner came through for the Scottish Vets Road Relays I responded with a resounding YES!!! Why? Well a variety of reasons really. Firstly, I could use the excuse of running on Sunday to not run on Saturday. I'm pretty whacked truth be told although the suitcases under my eyes are handy for carrying the shopping home. Secondly, while creating more and more elaborate reasons to avoid people, maybe company is what I need? Thirdly, it's been a while since I did a proper speed session and I could probably use one.
...... I haven't slept for several days
Actually weeks. I just can't switch off. My heid's buzzing 24 hours a day just now. I wake up at inconvenient times and that's me. Last night was no different. Struggling out of bed at 8am I knew today would be hard work. I wasn't wrong. Listening to Guy Garvey singing "in despair or incoherent nothing inbetween" was perhaps not the best pre-race music but when I arrived and saw an array of smiling familiar faces my mood soon changed.
We congregated in the cafe, distributed race numbers and before long 11am arrived. Luckily I was on leg 2. After a brief warmup I spied Gail in the distance and then I was off. As usual I set off too quickly, my first mile being around 7.20 followed by an 8! I found it hard going but after spending weeks running on snow, sand, trails and mud I found the road to my liking, passing over to Maryann running leg 3 having run the 3.8miles in 28:43. Aye, that'll do.
Forgive my crudeness, but I've had a bastard of a week. High mileage and the ever-increasing stress in my personal life probably contributed to the total meltdown I suffered on Thursday. This in turn almost led to a massive pile-up which was, thankfully, narrowly averted. *WARNING* too much time on your own thinking can seriously affect your health....
So when the desperate plea for a stand-in runner came through for the Scottish Vets Road Relays I responded with a resounding YES!!! Why? Well a variety of reasons really. Firstly, I could use the excuse of running on Sunday to not run on Saturday. I'm pretty whacked truth be told although the suitcases under my eyes are handy for carrying the shopping home. Secondly, while creating more and more elaborate reasons to avoid people, maybe company is what I need? Thirdly, it's been a while since I did a proper speed session and I could probably use one.
...... I haven't slept for several days
Actually weeks. I just can't switch off. My heid's buzzing 24 hours a day just now. I wake up at inconvenient times and that's me. Last night was no different. Struggling out of bed at 8am I knew today would be hard work. I wasn't wrong. Listening to Guy Garvey singing "in despair or incoherent nothing inbetween" was perhaps not the best pre-race music but when I arrived and saw an array of smiling familiar faces my mood soon changed.
We congregated in the cafe, distributed race numbers and before long 11am arrived. Luckily I was on leg 2. After a brief warmup I spied Gail in the distance and then I was off. As usual I set off too quickly, my first mile being around 7.20 followed by an 8! I found it hard going but after spending weeks running on snow, sand, trails and mud I found the road to my liking, passing over to Maryann running leg 3 having run the 3.8miles in 28:43. Aye, that'll do.
Monday, 11 January 2010
An Idiot's Guide to Ultra Training........Part 1
I'm training for an ultra, my first. The ultra in question is the Highland Fling. Being the dedicated athlete that I am (choke, cough....) in true "top athlete" style, I devised myself a training programme. You could argue that any well-intended top athlete get themselves a coach but nah, not me I'm a dedicated self-motivated individual who doesn't like to follow the conventional rules. However, in typical idiot style, I've done nothing more with the schedule than ignore the reminders it keeps emailing me. It's a trick I learned while marathon training last year, eventually giving my schedule the dubious title of "make it up as you go along". Genius eh? It was a tactic similarly adopted at pre-marathon races. Never mind sensible pacing, the idot's guide schedule said just leg it and try and keep it going. See? Who needs a coach?
So the schedule is in the virtual bin and yet again I've opted for the make-it-up-as-you-go-along version. Thus far it entails missing out on WHW training days, pulling out of the Devil's Burden and indulging in stress by the bucket load. There are elements of sensibleness pencilled in for purely entertainment value, however, namely Carnethy 5 (yes, I'm deluded) and for the sake of tradition, good cakes and Smokies fishcakes it's back to Arbroath for the Smokies 10.
Currently then, weather permitting (I'm joking...) it's a case of run what you can, when you can and at no particular speed. It's run when you don't want to but know you should and run twice a day whenever possible, which isn't often I have to admit.
Budding coaches beware, this is the DIY schedule of the future.
So the schedule is in the virtual bin and yet again I've opted for the make-it-up-as-you-go-along version. Thus far it entails missing out on WHW training days, pulling out of the Devil's Burden and indulging in stress by the bucket load. There are elements of sensibleness pencilled in for purely entertainment value, however, namely Carnethy 5 (yes, I'm deluded) and for the sake of tradition, good cakes and Smokies fishcakes it's back to Arbroath for the Smokies 10.
Currently then, weather permitting (I'm joking...) it's a case of run what you can, when you can and at no particular speed. It's run when you don't want to but know you should and run twice a day whenever possible, which isn't often I have to admit.
Budding coaches beware, this is the DIY schedule of the future.
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