Lakeland 100 - 2024 - 38:46

 

This was a much more positive Lakeland 100 than my previous one back in 2012. Last time, by Dalemain I was struggling with trench foot, blisters and early issues from what would later progress into a stress fracture in my right ankle. This time my feet held up really well until Kentmere.

Right foot post race - 2024 vs 2012

I didn’t have a good enough fueling plan, and struggled with low energy from Howtown. This became particularly problematic after Skelwith Bridge, when I seriously crashed.

I got to run the final 30 miles and finish with Nick, which was fantastic. I had a plan which had been working and believe I would have completed within the 40hrs cut off under my own steam, but it certainly would have been tighter. Alone, I think I would have stopped more, which may have given me more energy, or might simply have cost precious time. I met Nick after a slow queue around Haweswater. I had been feeling very sleepy, which was a big concern. Once we hooked up, I didn’t feel sleepy again; a combination of companionship, encouragement and Nick's solid pace.

Crossing the finish line with Nick was magical. Something I'll never forget.

 

Amazing Lakeland 50 - 2023 / 14:38

I've just had a brilliant Lakeland 50! This was my 4th time at this race and it's the fitst time everything played out really well.  Hopefully I can tap into these notes next time and repeat the experience.

The secrets were an enforced slow start due to crowds and a positive attitude. 

I was going for a Lakeland 100 qualification time of sub 16hrs and felt this was a bit of a stretch. I used the race prediction tool at https://climbers.net/race/Lakeland50-2011 to come up with estimates for 15:45. I figured it would be nice to build in a cushion but wasn't planning on religiously hitting these CP times. I laminated it and put it in an accessible pocket. My plan was to reference this at each CP and see whether I was up or down, just as a confidence boost. It would also allow me to prepare mentally how long it would take to reach the next CP. This worked really well. I'd do it again, not with a target time, but with a minimum time. 

I travelled up on the bus and met Mich and the kids at Dalemain. Felt super chilled at the start, not under any pressure at all. I lined up at the back of the pen and, with the new start wave system, crossed the start line at 11:43am, in wave 5 of 6. Alex joined me for the 4 mile lap of Dalemain.

Alex has been coming to the Lakeland weekend on and off since he was 4 years old, and since then has wanted to take part. Now aged 15, he got to experience the first few miles. We had such a lovely time, chatting away. It was all smiles and laughs and felt amazing. If only I could have taken him on to Howtown, but it was soon over and with hugs all round I left my family and headed off.

I soon fell into step with Tim and we stayed together until the top of the climb out of Pooley Bridge, when he pulled away. I was really enjoying sticking to a relaxed pace this early in the adventure and hit the long descent to Howtown feeling super positive - probably my favourite section of trail running anywhere. 

I soon caught up with Tim and Steve, who were chatting with Billy, an 'old face' from back in the day, and without thought, Billy and I drifted off ahead, chatting away about old times.

 Howtown CP: 10.5 miles, 2hrs 17mins (target 2:09)

I saw video footage of 45min queues to get into Howtown in 2021, but this year the queue was tony...just congestion, really. The temperature was perfect and, although I'd been drinking, I hadn't drunk lots, so didn’t bother filling my bladder. I had a couple of cups of water and walked out with a handful of sweets and custard cremes to eat on the climb. I spent about two and a half minutes in the Howtown checkpoint.

The climb up Fuesdale was really busy, with a queue all the way; the line stop-starting in the upper sections. There was a temptation to feel frustrated but I knew this enforced slowness would benefit me later and was doing me a favour. This was the case, and given the choice of starting in wave one, I think I would chose wave three or four in future. I'm sure I completed the course faster because of these early hold ups. 

I reached the top feeling great and walked for a while to shake out the legs. Everyone around continued to walk but after a few minutes I broke into a jog down Bampton Common, keeping my Poles out. I passed Jon Morehouse here and we exchanged a few words. I felt fantastic and was absolutely loving this. I kept smiling and reminding myself that you look forward to days like this and remember them forever awterwards, and here I was, actually living it, right now. Such a buzz.

I walked the steeper descets and really used my poles to support my weight. I was very much aware that I had not trained my quads enough for this and allowed the folk around me to zoom passed while I waited for the slope to shallow out. This was another tactic that I think really helped my body stay so strong all the way to the finish.

Poles away for the run around Haweswater, which soon turned into a walk, with long, slow queues. Again, it felt a little frustrating but I concentrated on the fact that I was conserving energy early that I would get back later. 

Mardale CP: 20 miles, 5hrs 2mins (target 05:07)

Into Spardale for a quick turn around. The CP was busy and, with me only recently returning to Spartan Tuesdays, I was a stranger to a lot of the Spartans in the CP. Tim C topped up my bladder and I  grabbed a couple of sandwiches to eat as I went. I was in the CP for about four minutes.

Sandwiches munched and the poles came back out for the climb up Gatesgarth (I kept them out for the rest of the race). I expected this to take 45mins but it actually only took 35. It was incredibly windy and raining quite heavily. Almost everyone around stopped to put on jackets but I was about the right temperature so stuck to t-shirt. My left quad started firing light warning shots of cramp so I eased back the pace a little and protected it.

Down the other side, I was feeling great. Again, I walked the steep sections, leaning heavily on my poles, and was feeling fantastic along the valley floor. After the climb out of Sadgill Farm, I hit the bleak section where I cried in 2011 and had such a huge smile on my face. I had never felt this fresh and happy at this point in the Lakeland 50. This was amazing!

Kentmere CP: 26 miles, 6hrs 50mins (target 07:19)

Into Kentmere about on schedule and I planned to sit down for the first time and eat some pasta, but a lady I'd been running with said "Oh, I couldn’t eat right now...that would be a bad idea". I realised she was right and although I was planning to eat, I didn't want solid food right now. The CP was very busy. I had two cups of water, a cup of cola then filled my cup with fruit smoothie and left, drinking the smoothie on the road around to the start of the Garburn Pass.

I took the climb steadily and enjoyed the descent. The climb out of Troutbeck was evil, as always, which brought us into Ambleside. The reception was incredible...the best yet and I did well up a couple of times at the number of people lining the streets, clapping, whooping and shouting 'Well Done'. I met Mich and the kids, with a huge smile on my face, feeling super-positive.

Ambleside CP: 33.6 miles, 8hrs 51mins (target 09:38)

It was a quick pit stop - filled my bladder for the second and final time, grabbed a sandwich and a handful of grapes (which tasted like the food of the Gods), then walked through the park with my family.

At this point everything was still very much in the green. My feet had been wet for a long time and felt tender, but there was no chaffing, muscle cramps or knee pain. I put on my headtorch, knowing I'd need it before Chapel Stile, and switched it on as we hit the lovely, rocky single track by the wall, before Skelwith Bridge. At Skelwith Bridge I also put on my jacket for the first time. There was a heavy rain shower, and although I was the right temperature, I was aware that I was heading into night and would probably need it on soon, so it would be nice to keep the rain off.

I slowed down a little here, and people were very slowly pulling ahead, but I didn't care one jot what others were doing and didn’t compare myself to them. My ultra shuffle was faster then my walk, so I shuffled away and paid no heed if folk passed me. 

Around Chapel Stile village I caught up with Jake. He'd dropped into a walk but was able to latch on and we ultra-shuffled together down the valley. It was fantastic to have company and I really loved running with Jake. As he said, "If you'd told me eight months ago we'd be running together at mile 40 of the Lakeland, I would not have believed you". He was bang on, and it was an indication of how far I’ve come in the last year.

Chapel Stile CP: 39.4 miles,  10hrs 19mins (target 11:23)

Into the CP, queued for the loo, then sat down with a bowl of meat stew, my first and only sit down in the race. This felt like a much needed rest and I was in the CP for 13 mins. 

Jake and I left together and headed down the Langdale valley. My feet were tender and I felt tired, but it was pushing midnight and we'd covered over 40 miles. I remembered to look behind and see the incredible sight of a string of headtorches down the valley.

The zig zags at the end of the valley were over before they started, then Jake and I got into (what felt like) a good pace and overtook a load of people on the superb trail around Blea Tarn. I expected Blea Moss to be a boggy hell, but the route was well marked with flags and was pretty solid.

Jake left me here and I stayed on my 'comfortable' ultra-plod. The climb at the end of the valley was hellish - went on for ever...I swear it was three times the length it was in the past! Then we were into Tilberthwaite.

Tilberthwaite CP:  45.7 miles, 12hrs 16mins (target 14:12)

I ate some melon and was about to leave when I was offered a cheese toastie; probably the most delicious thing I have ever eaten in my entire life. Threw some money in Jacob’s bucket and climbed Jacob's Ladder. I left Tilberthwaite around 1am, so guessed I could take it easy and still be in Coniston for 3. 

The climb was okay. I made a point of stopping at the head of the valley and admiring the string of torches coming up behind me. How many times in your life do you get to see something like this? Beautiful and well worth a few lost seconds.

I took the descent quite easily and broke into an ultra shuffle when I hit the metalled road. A supporter was walking ahead of me and my running pace was only very marginally faster than him.

I hit Coniston, turned right and who did I bump into but Josie and Alex! I was faster then expected and by chance, met up with Mich and the kids as they rushed to the finish line. This was wonderful, and I found a new wave of energy as we all ran in the final quarter of a mile through town together. A perfect way to finsh a perfect Lakeland 50.

I finished in 14:38. Beyond my wildest imagination of what I was capable of.

Lessons learned

• Go slow at the start. No, slower!
• Think positive thoughts. Throughout the day I would smile then think about how much better I felt than I had previously at this point.
• The schedule worked. Not as something to follow, but as something to stay ahead of. It made me feel good knowing I was up on time and definitely reduced anxiety.
• The run around the start with Alex was a colossal boost. I thought back to this many times throughout the day and every time it was like a shot of happiness.

Montane Lakeland 50

Having completed the Lakeland 50 in 2011 and the Lakeland 100 in 2012 I was returning to the 50 this year with my eyes fixed on a good time. Back in 2011 I had a very tough day, sapped by heat it was a fight from 10 miles and I finished in 13:25. This year, with much more experience under my belt I felt I could probably go sub 11 but would be disappointed with anything over12 hrs. I ended up battling with the heat, feeling ill from 10 miles and finishing in 13:15. Hmmmm, sounds familiar.

Well, of course I have a few excuses!

• I had a stomach bug the week before the race and wasn’t fully over it
• I don’t do well in the heat and conditions were tough this year

But ultimately what it comes down to is this.

• I thought I was capable of a sub 11 hrs Lakeland 50
• I wasn’t

I think I would have done much better at the end May, when my running was on top form, but since then my training has been so disrupted that an 11 hr target was simply unrealistic. I actually enjoyed most of the run at the time but on reflection I’m pretty crushed that yet again I have failed to perform when racing an ultra.

The Spartan Army pre-race start

On the start line the Spartans were clustered together at the front over on the right hand side of the starting pen, chatting and laughing. I wanted to be with them but felt I just needed a bit of space so I moved to the very left of the line and into my own bubble. It felt incredibly antisocial but I was trying to find my race head. Having helped organize the Lakeland 1 kids fun run this year my build up to this weekend had largely focused on the kids’ race. The weekend so far had seen me doing my marshalling duties, talking to the growing number of friends in the ultra running community, visiting the Spartan family zone and even squeezing in a few daddy duties with my own kids. Friday was just manic. So I found myself at the start of my main A race of the year feeling mentally unprepared. I needed these last few minutes alone to get ready for what was to come.

Standing right at the front (over on the right) with the quick boys

I had a plan to get to the first CP at Howtown (10 miles) around 1:45 so I knew I would have to put in some effort on the initial lap of the Dalemain estate to beat the crowds. It meant running beyond “comfortable” on the first few climbs but I felt I was holding back enough. Nick was ahead and Andy just behind and we were very much at the front of the field, running in space with no congestion at the stiles. When we hit the gravel track I decided Nick was going a fraction quicker than I wanted to so I feathered back and let him drift away.

Through Dalemain past cheering supporters then off to Pooley Bridge with more encouragement from Terry Gilpin, Tracy Dean and Bev Notton who were marshalling along the way. I was feeling fantastic at Pooley Bridge and was lifted further by a Spartan Flag waved by Niamh and Val Whittaker. Andy caught me on the climb and we walked over the top together, chatting away, admiring the views before starting the wonderful run down to Howtown.

I hit CP1 at 1:40 feeling great and 5 min up on where I wanted to be but then the wheels fell off. I got out my poles to find that the fastening mechanism was broken on one so I would have one and a half poles today. Then I went into the pocket of my rucksack to get some sweets and the zip broke. Feeling a little frustrated I checked my Garmin only to find it had accidentally stopped at the CP when I took off my bag to fill up on water. A mental triple whammy!

Anyway, I set off up the biggest climb of the day and immediately started to suffer. I felt sick with cold shakes and the quads started to cramp even before the climb got steep. The effect was so dramatic that I think the lingering stomach bug must have played a part. I quickly (and easily) threw away my time plan and went into self preservation mode. Having read an excellent article on the causes of cramp I wanted to be good to my central governor so I ate some salt sachets and slowed the pace to a stroll. The field was flooding past, including many Spartans, but I wasn’t at all concerned about that. I just took it easily and stopped quite a few times. It seemed about one in thirty people were struggling around me and at least one turned back to Howtown. Throughout the climb I was surprisingly positive and pragmatic.

I started feeling better once over the top but eased back into the running very gradually. I tried to treat my central governor by giving it some gummy bears and salt and walking for a while. I was able to build slowly to a run and felt better and better as I ran over Bampton Common.

A quick pause at the stream to poor water over my head and fill my bottle, re-passing Hackos along the way, then a quite enjoyable run around the lake. There were hold ups but I was expecting them this year so just went with the pace of whoever was in front of me.  I re-passed Paul C who made a comment about me coming back from the dead. I was feeling really pleased with how I’d looked after myself on the climb and got myself running again.

Into Mardale (20 miles in and 20mins down on plan) to the fantastic reception of the Spartan CP crew. In hindsight I should have stopped for ten minutes here and taken on some soup but instead I snatched a Pepsi and headed straight back out onto the trail.

I soon caught Nick who was weaving around like a drunkard. He mumbled almost incoherently that he had been sick and was feeling bad. I told him I thought he should go back and take a break at the CP and he told me he had been stopped there 15 mins. I stopped in my tracks, feeling very worried about my mate. If this is how he looks after a 15 min break he really should not be climbing up this mountain. To say he looked like crap is a huge understatement. He convinced me to carry on and I decided I would pull ahead but keep an eye on him. He actually tagged me and my worries ebbed when he passed me towards the top! For me this climb, and all others, were causing my quads to cramp and left me feeling weak. I slowly stumbled my way to the top.

I quite enjoyed the run down the valley but found the route after Sadgil Farm quite lonely. This bit of track always makes me feel quite sad during the race. No idea why. Jon and I hooked up just before the road section and basically ran into Kentmere together (26 miles).

The CP marshals were really on the ball as always and my bottles were filled as I sat with a group of Spartans and enjoyed a strawberry smoothie then it was back out onto the hill. John and Jetpack passed me as I struggled upwards. I ran okay down to Troutbeck, taking walks when the cramp got bad, but struggled out to Jenkins Woods. I was being passed a lot and felt quite demoralized. Then it started CHUCKING it down. The rain was bouncing but it was lovely and cool and I stayed in shorts and vest on the run into Ambleside. The rain meant I didn’t get the famed support as locals had scattered for shelter but there were shouts from the pubs and families were out around the CP itself (34 miles). I gave Mich and the kids a kiss and headed inside.

Bottles were filled by Mike and Annette Raffan while I sat next to Nick, who was still looking rough but much better than when I’d last seen him. I left him to his soup and headed back outside. The highlight of the race was running through the park with Mich, Val and a gaggle of Spartan kids. It was a scene straight out of Rocky 2, with children running next to me hurdling park benches while an 80s rock ballad thumped in the background. It was the first time I’ve not been able to keep pace with Alex and Josie and I had to ask them if we could walk for a bit. Embarrassing! 

Rocky II

I was feeling mentally strong and once I got over the climb out of Ambleside I had a very good run down to the wonderful checkpoint in Chapel Stile with its lights, fires and sofas all in a marquee in the middle of a sheep field. I saw this as a chance to make up ground on those ahead so dibbed and headed right out into the fading light. It was a mistake and I really should have taken ten minutes here to eat and rest. I left exhausted and barely ran another step to the finish.

So, the walk down the valley was tiring and as I hit the climb I was passed by a large group of runners, including Hackos. I eventually staggered to the top, where a remote-controlled UFO was zipping about, freaking out the 100 runners. I felt completely spent and had to sit on a rock for 5 minutes while I put on my headtorch and waterproof top and tried to get some energy.

On the walk past Blea Tarn I was looking up ahead when I stumbled on a rock and rolled my ankle. I screamed, painted the air blue with curses then sat on the ground panting while the pain subsided. At first I was seriously worried that I wouldn’t be able to walk but when I braved it to my feet I was able to hobble for a couple of minutes until the pain ebbed away then it didn’t bother me at all. I watched my footing more closely after that!

On the road section after Blea Moss I was starting to get very cold in the heavy rain. Last year there was very limited undercover space at the Tilberthwaite CP so I looked around for shelter and soon spotted a large tree off to the side of the road. It took me about 5 minutes to wrestle on my waterproof bottoms and gloves but I felt much better with the extra layers on.

Into Tilberthwaite feeling as weak as a kitten and I grab a seat while I drink Pepsi and eat orange slices. I’m just about to go when a lovely lady asks if I’d like a cuppa. Oooooooooo you know what, that would be perfect! One cup of sugary tea later and I’m stumbling up the steps.

I was progressing slowly when towards the top I was passed by Martin Loveless, who I ran with on sections of the 2011 L50 and on much of the 2012 L100. We hung together over the top and ran/walked all the way to the finish, dibbing together on the count of three. It was a great end to a tough day out in the hills.

And so after the race was over the self analysis started. I really love long runs out in the hills but all the ultras I’ve raced, with the possible exceptions of my first Sandstone Trail and my second Long Tour of Bradwell, have been disappointing. I’ve generally under-performed, dealing with cramp from an early stage and struggling on all the climbs. Why is that? Yes, my training was inconsistent and not specific enough this year (too little time in the mountains) but did all those people who floated effortlessly past me on each and every climb train better? Surely not! I’m left feeling disillusioned. I certainly need to address nutrition; I basically fueled myself on a handful of gummy bears and half a bar of Kendal mint cake. That’s not enough to keep yourself going on this monster.

As a result of this race I have made a sober, pragmatic decision not to apply for entry to the UTMB next year. I don’t want to enter another long race until I can commit to train properly for it. With three small children at home and a wife who will be training for the Lakeland 50 next year I just won’t have time to commit to the level of training I think would be needed to avoid a 70 mile death march in the Alps. Instead I’m going to take some time out and try to re-kindle my love of running with a few personal challenges. And yes, I will return to the Lakeland 50 one day. Hopefully third time lucky will see me put in a run I am happy with.

Footnote: This is a rather negative blog about a day that I largely enjoyed. I am extremely disappointed about my own performance on the day but it was great to be out in the hills, especially with so many mates. To say I am proud of the Spartans is a bit condescending and doesn’t actually encapsulate how I feel. It’s great to see not only the Spartan Runners having the satisfaction of completing this very tough event but also seeing how excited and supportive their families were. The whole weekend was brilliant. The run just went on a bit too long.

Norley Primary School Sports Day Dads Beanbag Race

Alex bouncing to third place in the sack race

I hadn't planned to enter the Dads race at the school sports day. I broke away from work to cheer Alex on and was intending to dart back as soon as his events were over. He competed in and enjoyed the 25 yard sprint, the egg and spoon race and the beanbag race. As I was about to head home I had a rush of guilt and decided I had to stay so Alex could cheer on his dad.

After the mums egg and spoon race came the big event. The bean bags were placed, the starter was ready and the finish line officials positioned themselves, poised eagle-eyed to count the finishers home. Meanwhile the dads strutted about the field, not wanting to get into position too soon or look each other in the eye.

I finally made my move to the start line only to discover that all the places had been taken. About seven of us would not be able to start. A decision was quickly made that there would be two heats and I had to decide which I should enter. Lined up in heat one were Wallman, an ex-professional footballer and a host of tasty looking lads. Hovering behind were a group of largely portly middle aged gents who looked like they hadn't done a step of exercise since leaving school. Well, I'm not going to fight to go into wave 1!

Wave one finishes and it's time to get on the blocks. You can cut the tension with a knife. In scenes reminiscent of London 2012 the crowds are jumping up and down cheering and dancing. Someone may have let off a smoke flare. We athletes are oblivious to all of this however, our entire being focused on that first small beanbag ten meters away.

Tooooooooooooooooooooot goes the starter's whistle and we are off. I'm not happy with my start, my shoes slipping slightly, but I nail the first bag and deposit it into my hoop on the start line in about second place. I'm out to bag two, only just catching it with my fingertips on the turn (careful Stevie!) and back to the start hoop in first place. Out to the final bag and I am already lapping the slower runners. I am comfortably in first place and feel I can stroll in from here.

As I drop my final bag into the hoop disaster strikes. Maybe it's my choice of footwear (I wasn't planning to race) or maybe I'm just thinking about leaping to glory over the finish line but as I turn my foot slips from under me and I am down on the ground. The crowd take a collective gasp then the stadium/school field falls silent. I scramble to my feet as one,  two, three dads pass me. My legs are pumping trying to make ground but I feel as though they have a mind of their own. There's obviously a technique to this sprinting business and I haven't got it. I pass two dads but one remains ahead. I ease back the cadence, desperately trying to regain control of my legs and it works. I feel the blast of pace and start chasing the leader down. But have I left it too late?

Ten meters to go and I almost have him. Yes, I am going to get him. But what's this? With a glance over his shoulder he sees I am gaining and starts to drift into my lane. Up comes an elbow then a shoulder then I'm being barged off the track, much to the delight of the crowds. We both dip for the line and the officials award a draw.

Lessons learned are to wear trail shoes, ensure you pick the right wave to run in and watch out for the rugby player in lane two. Great fun!

EnduranceLife CTS South Devon Ultra

It's not a race. You're not in racing shape so just treat this as a long, hilly training run. The goal is simply to enjoy the day, make it to the finish and collect 1 UTMB qualification point. That was the plan and it was one I was comfortable with...until about a week before the race when the devil on my shoulder started whispering. "Why not go out hard? What's the worst thing that can happen? If you blow up you blow up, you'll still finish". Then I got a message from Nick on the day before the race "Give it some beans Steve". YEAH! Let's go for it!!

The CTS South Devon event consists of four races: 10k, Half Marathon, Marathon (29 miles) Ultra (35 miles), the ultra following the marathon route then heading out again on the 10k loop. This year a major landslide a week before the race had closed part of the coastal path but EnduranceLife did a great job changing the course around, making it a little longer than usual but ensuring the race went ahead.

I got myself close to the front at the start and when the horn sounded I found myself racing across the beach in eighth place out of 120 starters. The first couple of miles had lots of short, steep climbs and I was racing up them, concerned about the burning quads but wanting to stay with the top ten. What am I thinking? I'm doing a full on hard hill-rep session and have 35 more miles to go. Is this really a good idea? (It turns out it wasn't but we'll come to that).

I eventually fall into step with a fit-looking guy I'd been chatting to pre-race. He's a PT in the Marines and is jogging along with a HR of 140. Mine must be up around 170 but I'm settling into a nice, brisk pace and thoroughly enjoying the rolercoaster singletrack of the South West Coastal trail  in good company. Sometimes we're right down next to the sea, other time we're several hundred feet up running within arms reach of perilous cliff edges. The views would probably be amazing but all eyes seem to be on the immediate ground in front. A trip here could prove to be pretty messy. We're in joint 12th and I'm happy with that. There's a big gap behind us but I can see a team of five working together. As the miles go by I can see that they are slowly but surely reeling us in.

At 16 miles we hit a CP and turn away from the coast to head inland. After a rollercoaster couple of miles inland we headed back to the coastal trail, moving against the flow of tail end Ultra runners and the early marathoners. I had been pulling away from Ben (I actually never found out his name but he looked like a Ben so that's what he became) on the descents and he pulled ahead on the climbs. As we turned away from the Coast again at 19 miles we had a long drag uphill. Ben pulled away and I marched up alone. My quads had been feeling tender for a few miles (due to the crazy hill reps at the start) and on this climb they finally started to cramp up. I was also dealing with sharp pain on the inside of my left knee and in my right groin. As I'm trying to get my head around this the group of five who have been chasing us down for 10 miles finally catch and pass me and in the space of a few seconds I fall from 13th to 18th.

I reach the top of the hill and consider trying to hold on to the five but bad stabs of cramp in the quads make me think otherwise. I'm into survival mode already and all thoughts of racing are tossed into the mud. I walk while I fish out some salt sachets I had picked up from Burger King on the way over. In normal circumstances eating neat salt would be pretty grim but here I greedily swallow it down and am licking the empty packet to get every grain. It's funny how something revolting tastes great when your body needs it. My legs still hurt but there is a noticeable improvement almost immediately and I'm able to break into a solid ultra-plod.

Where the coastal trail was stunning the inland sections are awful. Hills that go on forever, wading through ankle deep, thick, red clay-like mud with 10ft hedges on either side of the path blocking any views. It was mentally very tough and I felt pretty low from miles 20-27. The quads and calves were cramping and I was struggling with groin pain on the climbs and knee pain on the descents. I wasn't plummeting though the field as I had expected though. Two guys came past me around mile 25 and another two at 27, putting me in 22nd. At mile 27 we climbed out of the mud onto some duck boards winding through a nature reserve. It was interesting running with nice things to look at and I knew we would soon be back on the coastal path so felt good about that. I was enjoying the running and then overtook my first person in the race so far. My mood flipped and I felt super-positive again. The pain felt less, the running easier and the course better.

I head towards the start/finish area with a young lad in his first ultra. He's flapping about the cut off, which was only announced just before the start. I tell him we're at the front of the field and we really don't need to worry about cut offs. "Really", he says, "it's at 2:15". "What time is it now?" I ask. "2pm" he says. Wow, a lot of people are not going to make this cut off and will be pulled from this 36 mile race at the 30 mile mark. It seems more than a little unfair when I don't think a cut-off was announced before hand.

We run through the finish area and I tell the lad I'm going to try and hunt down the guy I can see ahead. He tells me he was working really hard to make the cut off and now he's spent. He's just going to cruise in. We wish each other luck and I pull ahead. I'm feeling completely on top of things as I head out to Start Point and although I never caught the guy in front I enjoyed hunting for him.

The second placed lady passed me with about two miles to go, dropping me back to 22nd. I glanced back crossing a big field with about a mile to go and saw someone gaining on me looking strong. Time to give it those beans Nick was talking about! I got my head down and really worked hard to the finish, doubling the gap between me and the guy behind and crossing the line in 7:05 in 22nd place.

Post race I've got very mixed emotions about this. On reflection I did quite well. I ran beyond my current level of fitness, got battered but then held on well to finish quite strong. My mad charge at the start was just crazy. I need to show more will power in future races: there's a difference between going out strong and destroying yourself. Next time my ego may have to allow people to overtake me early on if they are going faster than I know is sensible.

Regardless of how foolishly I started I'm still disappointed that things went wrong so early. I did not expect to be struggling at 16 miles. So, I need to loose the 5kg I put on over xmas, stretch regularly and strengthen the legs. My confidence has been knocked by this race but there's plenty time to get my stuff together before my target races of the Sandstone Trail in May and the Lakeland 50 in July.

My Runkeeper info for this race: http://runkeeper.com/user/stevemee/activity/149800789

Going from A to...?

I've been doing a lot of thinking about progression and goal setting lately and Alan's comment on my previous blog asking if his goals were too conservative made me think I should put my thoughts down here. I'm not totally sure where this is going so let's just start typing and see where we end up.

Weight

As I sit writing this I weigh around 77kg. My racing weight is 75kg but at 77 I feel pretty good. When Mich and I got married in 2003 I was 97kg (four stone heavier). Here's a photo from our big day...

Compare that to now (I'm the one in the middle)...

 

If you would have asked me on my wedding night what weight you thought I could eventually reach I would have wondered what you were doing in our hotel room on our wedding night. However, if you'd have asked me a day or two later I probably would have said I could loose 3-5kg. I certainly would not have thought I could ever be the shape I am now.

What's this got to do with running? Bear with me, there's a lesson about goal setting here that I'm hoping to reach.

Distance

I have always loved running, right back from when I was at school. But it always hurt. I used to suffer from agonizing knee pain which would flare up after three to four miles. My first race was the Liverpool 10k and my pre-race preparation consisted of downing two Ibuprofen, applying painkiller gel to my knees and saying a silent prayer to the running gods that the pain wouldn't be too bad. I had never run more than 4 miles before and when I completed it (in just under an hour) I felt like the King of the world. I didn't take my medal off all evening. On that same day Mich was running the Liverpool Half Marathon, a distance I was certain I would never be able to run. A marathon was just out of the question.

This is me completing the Lakeland 100.

So....?

So what am I trying to say? Well, natural ability does make a difference when it comes to finishing times; we can see that when we get to the elite level. But, I really don't believe that most people are running anywhere near their full potential. If you run a 2:05 half marathon this year it's easy to say you'll aim for sub 2 next year. But what if you are actually capable of 1:30? Are you limiting yourself in your physical and mental approach by setting goals which are just way too low? You may not be able to run that 1:30 next year but by aiming to improve only marginally you may never get there.

The record pace for our club 4 mile time trial is around 6min miles. I genuinely believe that most of the club are physically capable of achieving this pace over four miles with the right training but hardly any of those runners are looking at the record holder and thinking "yeah, I can do that". Now our work/life balance may mean we never reach our full potential but if we accept that this potential is way higher than we are currently running then it allows us to target big improvements somewhere between that top end potential and where we are now. 

I'm not a coach and I can't describe how to get from A to B. All I'm saying is that maybe you can open up your mind and consider that you could be aiming to go from A to C. Or maybe even to D.

Running through Hell

From the moment I hit submit on the entry form for the 2012 Hell Up North Hellrunner I had been dreading this race. I had a very definite game plan. One that would not be fun.

I have been entering Hellrunner off and on since it was first held in Delamere Forest around 2006. It's a fantastic mix of glorious trails with steep hill reps (the Hills of Hell) and chest deep freezing mud (the Bog of Doom). Back in that first year I was new to running, hadn't really done any trail running and was about 20kg heavier than I am now. It was a tough old day in the forest and I finished a broken man in around 500th place. The last time I entered was two years ago when I was racing my workmate, the super-competitive Barry. I managed to duck inside the top 100 on the Saturday event (and more importantly beat Baz!). This year I secretly wanted to go top 50.

So, how would I go about getting a top 50 place at Hellrunner? Simple! I would line up at the front of the field, beast myself over the hill at the start then hang on by my findernails for 10 miles. Now you can see why I wasn't looking forward to this!

The morning started really positively, with a nice walk in with Alan then a chat with a bunch of Spartans. We were taking just shy of 30 to this event (which is afterall on our turf) along with families so there was a great atmosphere.

Time to line up and I moved right to the front, just two rows back. After some taunting from the Devil Himself the airhorn sounded and off we stormed into the red smoke. The climb up Old Pale is familiar ground on our club's Tuesday sessions so it was really easy to gauge a hard-but-not-suicidal pace. As we approached the summit it seemed bizzar to be in Hellrunner and only have a hand full of people ahead of me. Even more bizzar was the thought that there were 2100 runners behind me.

I overtook a few people on the way up but was passed by maybe ten or twenty. Charlie and Kev were the only two Spartans ahead of me and as they are both superhuman I never expected to be able to challenge them. If another white shirt appeared I would tag them but apart from that I would stick to my own pace.

Over the top and we hit the descent; now it's time to pass everyone who went by me on the climb. I open my stride, add in some bounce and accelerate to fly through the field. Except everyone's going just as fast as I am. Remember you're at the front of the field this time Steve! I go tearing down the hill, shoulder to shoulder with another runner. We're both running out of control and each time we hit a corner we are trusting whoever has the inside line not to drift too far and wipe the other one out. Fun? I could sell tickets for this!

We hit the flat and loop back towards the start line for a pass through the supporters before heading into the forest. I am dying on my feet, just as I had planned. I guess that's good then! Nick pulls onto my shoulder and we run through the start area side by side. "Come on Steve...this is OUR forest". "Weeeeze.....yeah....gasp....".

We head out on fabulous single track trails, Nick generally setting the pace and me holding on. "Time to re-group" says Nick. Sounds good to me. It strikes me that it would be amazing to finish together...but that's still a long way away. We're holding our own and enjoying the running and I feel good enough to start taking turns in front. Just before we cross the road I pass a couple of people and find that Nick's no longer with me.

Through the Puddle of Peril without too much drama and as we hit the fire trails I put in some more effort and start moving past a few people. The plan was to be hanging on for dear life at this point, hating every step. But I am no longer sticking to the plan. I have a HUGE smile on my face; working hard but loving this race.

Hey, is that a Spartan Shirt ahead? Looks like Big Jase. I was certain he was behind me, I wonder where he overtook me? I pull up behind him as we hit the singletrack again and I have to laugh; I am working my ass off but J is just jogging along chatting to another runner about the High Peak 40. I jog along with them but I'm not talking...I don't have the spare breath for it. The trail opens up and I wish him the best and pull ahead. It turns out he'd got a little lost and had cut a corner. Once he realized he jogged back through the field to run in with Paul A. Getting lost in Sparta! Maybe it's time to revoke his club membership?

I continue drifting up the field with a silly grin on my face. Through the Hills of Hell with my legs intact and as we turn towards the finish I'm running in a bubble of about four runners, with the second placed lady just ahead. I know from previous years that we have some single track to go, then the Bog of Doom and then the finish. Actually, not this year! We turn a corner and are directed by a marshal into a lake.

The water is numbingly cold. I'm splashing along behind another guy when he suddenly disappears  I'm next and as the water hits my stomach it absolutely takes my breath away. We quickly realize that there is a ridge somewhere in the black, icy water and it's not a good idea to step off it. I pull ahead, aiming to get close to the lady in front. She's really handy: every time we reach a hole in the "path" she disappears under the water and reappears with a loud yelp. It's a perfect warning for me to watch my step. :-)

The water goes on forever and by the time we climb out my legs are totally numb and by feet feel like they have been replaced by house bricks. We cross the road again and I'm still in the same bubble of four runners. I try a couple of times to break away but they tag me and I get sucked back into the group. Beyond our quartet there's not another runner in sight, just empty trail. This is not Hellrunner as I know it! Where are  the crowds?

I run along with the group until we hit the final stretch of fire trail. I realize that I need to break away now or we'll be together right through the bog and that will mean hard work out-sprinting them at the finish. I put in a big effort and this time I sustain it. It hurts but I manage to pull a 20m gap and I feel the elastic break between us. I'm away!

I enter the bog right behind the second placed lady. I don't really notice the crowds, smoke and music; I'm just focused on getting a good line into the water and keeping my footing. I pass the lady and spend the entire Bog of Doom with people screaming "You're second girl!" at me. I manage to face plant in the water as I turn to acknowledge Neil and team. So many friendly Spartan faces shouting support. Brilliant!

Out of the bog and my legs are lead. As I start the lap of the finish field someone passes me and we have a battle up to the final corner when I put in a sprint to pull ahead. I cross the line in 1:46:17, in 38th place out of 2,113 runners.

I am absolutely delighted with everything about this race. I discovered that I can go out hard in a short race, re-group and still finish strong. Back when I ran that first Hellrunner and finished 500th I never, ever could have imagined that one day I would finish top 50. What a confidence boost! Now all I have to do is figure out how to go top 20 next year!