Running Round in Circles

One of my now very occasional contributions to this blog.

The beginning

On 20th March I ran up Latrigg before dinner, an exercise that I've indulged in dozens if not hundreds of times over the past five years or so. I lingered on the top and looked at the view over Keswick and towards the hills beyond and wondered how long it would be before I was here again. Although we had quite a major job on at our place in Keswick we had already decided to move back to Chester for the duration of what was going to come. Two days later we were home and a day after that the "lockdown" began.

Living

I'm sure it's different for everyone but I think Jan and I don't have anything to complain about. We've been retired well over a decade now and are used to spending time with each other. I went to the supermarket for the first couple of weeks but as we are in a notional "vulnerable" group we were able to get a more or less weekly delivery after that so shopping is reduced to very occasional visits to the village shop for anything we forget or run out of. I haven't driven a car for over three weeks now except to run an engine up to temperature and move tyres to a different place on the perimeter; I'm not sure that's really necessary these days but the engineer in me still won't let go. We've slipped into an easy existence, enjoying the simple things and getting round to a lot of jobs we should have done years ago. The beautiful weather has helped of course, the somewhat dreaded clearing of over thirty years worth of accumulated junk from the loft will have to wait for the rainy times which will inevitably come eventually. Plenty of activity on line in the evenings with friends or family. The weeks seem to have flown by so far.

I've cut down the amount of both mainstream news and social media that I absorb. Though there are inspiring stories in both, I just got a bit fed up with the continual search for blame and the number of press experts and armchair critics telling everyone what has been done wrong and how exactly we should be living our lives. It seems to me that we are where we are, everyone is doing their best, some heroically so, very few have anything other than the best motives. More encouragement and less criticism would be good. 

I wasn't sure what to do about exercise. Jan has never cared for going out alone so I resolved that we would go for a walk four times a week. The footpaths around our village are all on agricultural land with gates and stiles and occasional narrow chicane sections, and our canal towpath is also narrow, so we have resorted in general to the lanes, now almost completely free from traffic except the odd tractor or delivery van. We haven't got bored with them yet and our outings normally cover three or four miles. We meet people in the village and within maybe a half mile perimeter but once beyond it's remarkably quiet. I feel for the city dwellers forced to pick their way carefully through crowded parks. Folk around us all seem well tuned in and some sort of local etiquette is evolving on generally  who crosses to the other side of the road and when in most situations. We thought about driving the twenty minutes in either direction which would get us to the countryside we are more used to exercising in but so far have chosen not to. We're far from bored yet, and the word is that most of the car parks that access places such as the Sandstone Trail and the Clwyds are closed anyway.

Running

For my three days running I have again stuck to the local lanes. Not a new experience but one I haven't really engaged in for some years now, dealing with (a) asphalt, and (b) flat (a local run round here rarely adds up to more that two or three hundred feet of ascent, even if you work at it). But I'm conscious that unless I keep up some sort of diligent activity, when we do get to some degree of release from the current situation there is a real chance that I may not be able to pick up running meaningfully again at all. Easy to start again from scratch when you're fifty, less likely when heading towards the mid seventies.

The outings I have settled on and pursued for the last three or four weeks now are two steady runs on Monday and Friday at just within aerobic pace (MAF if you like but not as strictly controlled). Monday is normally twelve miles and Friday gradually inching up depending how I feel, last week's was something over fifteen, but I'll peg this one back a bit every fourth week for recovery. For the past two or three years I haven't done any faster stuff other than a fairly regular Saturday morning Parkrun, so on Wednesday's I've gone back to a session that I used to do in the past, a six mile loop into which I build a gradually increasing pyramid of intervals at a bit faster than 5k pace. So far I'm up to  3,4,4,3 (all in minutes, with a 3 minute jog between each); plenty of scope for improvement here! 

I pondered about how to deal with the lack of hills. I admire those who have the patience and bloody-mindedness to make continuous repetitive ascents of their house staircase, but it's not for me, I have too low a boredom threshold. In the end I went back to a device that I last used when I lived in the flatness of the Netherlands nearly twenty years ago. I had thrown it away, so I built another  -  an 8" high step. There are still some step videos around on the net if you look around a bit, I settled on one that I had used in the past which gives a 45 minute mostly aerobic workout with 620 feet of climb (I had to watch it through with counter in hand to establish that figure!). So I do that on two of my "non-running" days. On a third, I set a quiet metronome to establish a rhythm, find a good TV programme to watch and simply step up and down for a while. At current pace I can generate a thousand feet an hour, so last week's session was an hour and a half for fifteen hundred feet.

So with three running days totalling 30-35 miles and three step days which added to the modest height gains on the runs get into the 3000-3500ft area, I'm hoping that's enough to keep me somewhere near in shape. I do miss the hills though, and I've had to buy a new pair of road shoes - the first shoes I've bought that weren't on a substantial discount for many years, justified on the grounds that no cash is currently going on petrol!

What happens next?

There is a lot of speculation now about "when the lockdown is released" but looked at logically I can't see that we are in any different place now in terms of actually combatting the Corona virus than when this all began. We have bought time and prevented the fatalities from being higher, but risk of infection spread are exactly the same. The game won't change until

(a) Sufficient numbers of the population have had the virus to significantly lower the risk of others catching it. This isn't going to happen anytime soon; the current measures, for all the right reasons, are actually preventing this.

(b) A vaccine becomes available, effective and in large quantities. Consensus of informed opinion seems to be that this won't happen this year.

(c) Drugs are discovered that can reduce the fatalities arising from serious infection to "acceptable" levels. Information on this one is sparse, but the fact that no-one seems to be championing it at present  suggests that even if feasible it is some way off.

Without one one of these, it seems to me that any form of easing of restrictions will still involve social distancing rules, maybe in addition to use of masks, etc when the various knowledgeable authorities can agree on effectiveness and in what situations.

So I'm afraid a return to the world as we knew it is some way off.

The future of events.

I'm sure any active runner will by now have had their plans for this year completely disrupted. I was fortunate to complete two races, the Brecon to Cardiff and the Millenium Way, and am prepared to believe that they may be the only ones I will be able to look back on for the year.

Events I was due to run already confirmed as cancelled or postponed are Hardmoors 55 (March), Highland Fling (April) and Lakeland 100 (July).  I have several others up to the end of August which I think will inevitably go the same way.

I'm going to stray into the area of prediction now which is of course dangerous, but sometimes our own ideas are all we have to work on to allow us to plan what we will do until whatever happens happens. Here is how I think things MAY shake out:

1. In a few weeks time I think the restrictions on what we can do will be eased. The economy will have to get back into some sort of increased activity, but there will be rigid social distancing attached. So I think our license to travel to and enjoy the outdoors will be returned. But it will be policed and if abused will be removed again.

2. It is a real step up from allowing people to enjoy an area while distancing themselves from others, to staging events whose purpose is to bring people together to achieve a common goal.

3. However, the style of event and overall numbers involved may have some bearing. Events like the Lakeland 50/100 which involves many hundreds of people camping in close proximity, travelling on packed buses to a mass start then occupying trails which will be crowded for several hours afterwards will not be feasible until social distancing measures are finished, next year at the earliest. But you could maybe see lower-key races involving much lower numbers in low population areas being more possible.

4. Even if some styles of event are deemed possible, they will face the following difficulties:

(i) Sorting out what measures are necessary to make them acceptably safe, and getting those agreed with stakeholders will take some time, so I can't see anything going ahead until the autumn at the very earliest.

(ii) Insurance for the organisers may be impossible.  They will not be able to guarantee that the duty of care measures they put in place will prevent infection. Whether this will be got round by some sort of specific disclaimer I wouldn't speculate.

(iii) Organisers will face two competing lobbies of opinion. One group will argue that such events are beneficial to the health of the competitors and the economy of the local area, the other group that it is irresponsible to risk increased infection rates ("putting lives at risk") by staging events that bring people together. You can see this debate becoming more public than is normal in ultra-running circles.

Faced with these, it would be understandable for potential organisers to stay out of the game until things become more certain (if they can survive that long, remember that while some organisations are competent and committed groups of amateurs, for others it is their livelihood at stake).

Personally, I have mentally written off the rest of 2020, and if anything does happen later in the year it will be a welcome bonus.

Until then I think we just have to stay as fit as we can and recognise that at times there are more important things than going out to play in the hills.

Keep safe while you're running in circles.

Looking Backward and Forward

This is a very occasional blog these days, but I thought it would be useful (for me at least) to look back over what happened in 2019, see what can be learned from it and so try to plan an interesting and motivating 2020.

2019 Diary

My main focus for 2019 was the Hardmoors Grand Slam, which didn't work out for me for a number of reasons. I kicked off well enough with the Hardmoors 30 on New Year's Day, 31 miles and 3300ft of ascent which I completed in 6:36:10.  Next in the series was the Hardmoors 55 towards the end of March. This was 52 miles and 7200ft for this year only, billed as the "Hardmoors 50" to celebrate 50 years since the inauguration of the Cleveland Way, with a (very slightly) shorter course but a double ascent of Roseberry topping to increase the fun. The race has gained a reputation for a bit of tasty weather over the past few years, 2019 being no exception with continuous high winds and heavy rain for the first 10 hours or so. I waddled my way steadily to the finish in 15:42:12.

The Hardmoors 110 was my first problem in the series. This is a race I had never tried before because the date clashes with a timeshare we enjoy. I probably underestimated it because it would have presented no problems to me a few years ago, and this led me to make what I think was a crucial mistake in not bothering to enlist a support crew. There are only two inside checkpoints where you can get warm, have some hot food and "regroup" a bit. These are at around 30 miles and 70 miles. I think not being able to have a bit of a warm and a cup of tea occasionally, combined with having to carry a much heavier bag as an unsupported runner, contributed significantly to my running out of steam as bad weather hit the race in the later stages and I stopped at around 80 miles.

The Hardmoors 60 (62 miles and 7200ft) presented no problems and on a fine day in September I completed it in 15:54:07 which was 45 minutes longer than my last finish in this event in 2015, quite encouraging as I was four years older. But I didn't start the final race of the Grand Slam, the Hardmoors 80 in November; a cold had been threatening all the previous week and on the morning of the race as I drove to Filey to get the bus to the start it came out in a big way, so I cried off and snivelled my way home. So out of the five races, only 3 complete, a rather poor effort.

The other events I entered during the year followed a similar up and down sort of pattern. The week after the Hardmoors 30, during which I felt absolutely fine, I tackled the 108 mile Spine Challenger. It started OK but arriving at the first checkpoint at 45 miles my heart rate was way over what I expected. A couple of hours sleep and some food seemed to make no difference. I could (and maybe should) have just ignored it and carried on, but I was unnerved enough to call it a day. My pulse returned to normal gradually over the next 24 hours or so; I never found out what was wrong.

In early April I ran the Manchester Marathon. I wasn't sure that I still had sub four hours in the locker so was pleased to finish in 3:54:41. My son John was also running and we agreed that if we got well inside our "good for age" targets we would both apply for London in 2020. Mine wasn't too hard to beat, being 5 hours (!!), but John only squeezed inside his 3 hour limit by about three minutes. I didn't think that would be quick enough to get him into London so I didn't bother to apply. He was more confident and got a place! He's going for sub 3:50 and as he will be 40 by then and his good for age for age gets slower, I think he's safe to run London for a few years yet. I must go and do my third at some time; it's a great event but all the faff to get to the start does put me off somewhat.

I carried this relatively good form into the Highland Fling (53 miles 6300ft) at the end of April. I hadn't done the race for a year or two and had forgotten what a great event it still is, in spite of the huge numbers these days. We had unusually wet weather and my time of 11:29:48 was the second worst of my 9 completions, but I still felt it was at least a step in the right direction among all the rather pedestrian performances that characterised most of the year. John came along too after getting into ultras via the White Rose 30 and Chester 50, and managed a pretty respectable 9:27:03 (since then he's felt that ultra training takes him away from his young family too much so has given it a rest for a short while).

In June I ran the GB Ultras Pennine Barrier (50 miles and 8500ft), which involved the Yorkshire 3 peaks but starting and finishing at Malham. On a warm day I didn't really hurry and finished comfortably in 13:55:52.

July saw another failure. Not quite sure what I did wrong but was unable to get round the Lakeland 100 this time, stopping at Kentmere about 82 miles in, Then at the end of August I entered the new Peak 33 (35 miles and 5000ft) starting and finishing in Castleton, getting home in 7:50:45. After the Hardmoors 60 the Lakes in A Day (50 miles and 13100ft) enticed me back for the fourth time; in relatively benign conditions for October I finished in 18:31:20, which was a result but still nearly two hours slower than my previous worst time for the event. Finally in early November I entered the Cornish Marathon, which although entirely on asphalt still had a fair bit of uphill (2600ft); I was pleased enough to finish in 4:12:51.

So for the year 2 marathons and 11 ultras entered, 2 marathons and 7ultras completed, 3 DNF's and one DNS. A pretty mixed bag and overall a bit disappointing.

Two other little projects I had on for 2019 didn't work out either. At the start of the year I decided to walk all the Wainwrights during the year. First some essential maintenance work back in Chester then other distractions put me behind schedule and I eventually lost heart, completing only 175 of the 214 tops. Finally for the second year running I failed to "run the year", that is to cover 2019 miles in 2019. Again I was nicely 40 miles or so ahead of the game until I was unable to start the Hardmoors 80, which simultaneously used the buffer and put me behind, and I never recovered from that.

On a more positive note, thanks to finding a knee expert who was able to help me run at a faster pace without needing several days recovery each time, I got interested in Park Runs and completed 20 or so during the year. I got PB's at both my local course and overall (at a rather flatter venue) in the early Autumn.  I managed to get up to 79.1% on the "age graded" results, giving a clear target for next year!

My totals for the year were 1934 miles run and 274,600 ft ascended.

Learning from the Year

My comfortable running pace has slowed noticeably over the past two or three years. Some of this may be due to age, but I suspect a lot has resulted from ineffective training. I have done a lot more hills and a lot fewer "running" miles, basically because as a day out I find it more fun. But I think that I have been kidding myself that I am considering a day out in the Lakeland fells, walking the ups steadily and jogging the downs to have a training benefit equivalent to two or three hours trail running at a respectable pace; and this clearly isn't the case. I have tended to go with the idea that jogging the downhills and easy flat sections and walking the rest is good enough to complete the events that I'm targetting, and again this is proving false. Making better decisions may have seen me finish the events I failed, but I'm sure that a bit more base pace "in the bank" would have made the projects a lot more secure from the outset.

So my main theme for the first half of 2020 will to be to get out much more on the roads, towpaths and runnable trails both near Chester and in the Lakes, to get a much more solid base of moving in the 9-12 minute mile range rather than covering most of the ground at little more than walking pace.

I will still target a fair number of events, running a proportion of them as enjoyable supported training as normal, but will select them more to support a "running" year, particularly for the first six months or so. I'll walk some hills for fun but not count them as part of the training effort.

I'll be a bit less concerned about overall "miles per week" and just let them come as a result of a build up of quality outings rather than any particular target.

And finally, so that I make sure of good quality sessions rather than just going out for slow speed ambles when feeling tired, for the first couple of months I will restrict running to every other day, apart from the odd very short outing (eg Park Runs). To make this easier I will base the more detailed programme on a 14 day cycle rather than a weekly one (this is much easier if you are retired!) I'll have a rough plan for about a month ahead and finesse the details as I go depending on progress, how I feel and external influences.

Recent Developments

I haven't had a brilliant start to 2020. The cold that prevented me from starting the Hardmoors 80 back in November continued all through the Christmas and New Year period. Every time I thought I was through it and started some gentle exercise, it seemed to restart again. I felt I was finally through it by the end of the first week of the New Year, though I still had a bit of a cough. I was due to attempt the Spine Challenger race on the 11th, so I went along to the doctor as a precaution just to check that my chest was finally clear. He said it wasn't and sent me along for a chest X-ray, which effectively put paid to the event for me. I get the results next week; I don't believe there is a real problem and have started running gently again, but I think it means I have to take a bit of time to work up to decent effort and mileage again. And all the inactivity has resulted in my putting on just over a stone, another issue to be addressed.

Race Plans for 2020

The first race I have planned is the Brecon to Cardiff on 9 February. It's an event I've done before, a pretty straightforward 44 miles with about 2000ft of easy ascent on good runnable tracks all the way. Whether I will have recovered sufficient health by then I don't know, but if I have I'll go regardless of how unfit I will be. I had intended it to be a long slow jog (in 2018 it took me eight and a half hours), but if necessary I'll jog and walk it to get a longish day on the feet.

On 1 March I've entered the Millenium Way Ultra (organised by Beyond Marathon), 41 miles across the Midlands from Burton on Trent to Newport (Shropshire). It's mainly along waterways and disused rail lines so has almost no ascent. I'm really hoping I've been able to put in enough work by then to run this one.

Two old favourites next, the Hardmoors 55 (my eighth) in March and the Highland Fling (tenth) at the end of April. I'll hope to do more this year than just beat the cutoff on the former, and if I can improve on last year's effort in the Fling even slightly I'll be well pleased.

Apart from those in our local mountain regions (Snowdonia, Lakes) where "rounds" have an obvious appeal in visiting a lot of fine territory in a small area, I really prefer my events to be "journeys" from one place to another rather than just artificial circuits, or even worse out-and-back courses, so it's a bit of a departure for me to take on a circular, relatively flat 100 miler. But that is exactly what I'm doing at the end of May with the Chester 100 (Gb Ultras, 100 miles and 5800 ft ascent); two reasons, first it is my local big race, the course passing less than a mile from my house, and second it is a long time since I completed a long race at a reasonable pace, and I want to see how well I can do at this as preparation for my big race of the year in August.

After this I'll take a bit of a break, take stock, and see how I've shaped up over the first five months of the year.

I've always been involved in the Lakeland races at the end of July but the 100 has given me a tough time for the past two years so this year I decided to enter the Lakeland 50.  I originally intended to make it a focus race and see how fast I could complete it; I didn't expect to come close to the sub ten hours (just) I got in 2012, but I thought I might have a tilt at breaking 12. But things happen and plans have to change, so this year I hope it will see me having a comfortable and enjoyable (but probably fairly lengthy) day out,.

This is because I hadn't decided what my main race for the year would be, but I eventually settled on the GB Ultras "Race Across Scotland" which follows the Southern Uplands Way (215 miles and 25,500 ft elevation). In August it's likely to be wet and midgy, but it travels a lot of fairly remote country and looks like a good adventure. I've also enjoyed races of similar length and height gain (Offa's Dyke, Northern Traverse) and they seem to suit my approach so I'm really looking forward to it. The race is just two weeks after the Lakeland 50.

I hadn't planned anything else for the rest of the year except for another favourite, Lakes in a Day in October, which I hope will be my fifth finish on this particular course. John's also entered this one so it will be interesting to see what he thinks of his first real mountain ultra. I will wait and see how I feel after the summer before deciding on a full plan for the remainder of the year.

Finally, a new race has appeared which is just too good to miss. Mike Jones (Apex Running) has been working away for three years now building up his race series in Snowdonia. The 50 and 100 are gaining a reputation for being every bit as good (though significantly tougher) than their Lakeland 50 and 100 equivalents (I ran the 50 in 2018 and was really impressed). Last year he added a Skyrunning event later in the year and this year the 100 and 50 will also have a 30 mile version to introduce runners to the area who might find the 50 a bit sharp. But the one that really fires my imagination in the new "Race Across Snowdonia". This is a journey from Abergwyngregyn (Aber Falls) on the north coast to Aberdyfi (Aberdovey) in the south. Two 40 mile days, each with around 11,500 ft of ascent,  and an overnight camp in the middle, showcasing much of the best that the region has to offer. A sort of super "Lakes in a Day" for Snowdonia (only being Snowdonia you can't do it on a day!). I think this has the potential to become a really popular event, two days offering everything you get from say two days on the Dragon's Back but over a weekend and at a fraction of the cost. The only problem for me is that it comes in July, just a week before the Lakeland 50 and in an already crowded bit of my year, but a shot at the inaugural running just had to be fitted in.

So that's about it for now. I'm really enthusiastic about the prospects for 2020, and once I can shake off whatever this current bug is, I'll get stuck in.

The Low Down on Deadwater

I offered to publish some tips for runners at the "gentlemens" end of the field (as opposed to the "players", if you're old enough to get the reference), in other words those for whom getting to the finish is the prime objective rather than trying to take away John Parkin's title.

I should start by saying that this is a really great event. I completed it in 2018 and would do it again but at my stage of the game (I'll be 72 in August) there are too many other things to do before Father Time closes in; I've signed up for this year's Race Across Scotland which is only a week or two earlier and attempting the two doesn't really seem sensible. I'm hoping to make Deadwater in some sort of support capacity all being well.

So how does a runner of more modest abilities make it to the end of this 235 mile monster?

Well, I think a bit of planning and a determination to make good decisions on the day(s) will pay off more than that extra ten or twenty miles a week you may (or may not) be contemplating. Let's start off with the obvious one, kit.

KIT

Deadwater is (I think) unique in UK ultras in that you have to carry absolutely everything you are going to need, except water, right from the start (there's actually a food concession but we'll come to that later). That means that unless you're going to have a torrid time going at Spine-like speeds (which won't get you through the long day anyway) you really need to work at keeping everything light.

Richard's recommendation was to aim for a pack weight of 5kg. I found that I couldn't manage this and still take everything I felt was necessary for a reasonably comfortable trip (and over 6 days and nights you really want this to be fun, or why bother going?) I went out a couple of times before the event, once for just over 30 miles, with 6kg, and found that I could manage that OK for my style of running (run the downs and occasional flats, walk everything else.) Anything lighter would be a bonus. 

I took an OMM 1.0 sleeping bag with a silk liner, together these were less than 500g and would have been quite warm enough if the weather had been normal for August. We had some nights when the temperatures were around freezing so I needed all my clothes as well to stay warm.

I used a 4ft x 18in piece of 5mm close cell mat, which weighed almost nothing and was absolutely fine for insulation. All the fancy inflatable mats weigh more than this. I also took an inflatable pillow, which Richard said was not worthwhile but I found helped me get much better sleep.

I carried or wore at various times

- OMM Kamleika smock

- Montane Minimus rain pants

- long sleeved Helly Hansen lifa vest

- Icebreaker Merino vest

- extra light Ron Hill Fleece

- Rab Neutrino puffy smock

- Ron Hill tights

- Underarmour pants (2x)

- lightweight fleece beanie

- foldable baseball cap

- thin merino gloves

- Salomon waterproof shell mitts

Of these the only thing I would change if going again would be to take a Bryne long sleeve vest instead of the Icebreaker  -  warmer, lighter and much easier to keep dry. The best bit of clothing kit I took was the puffy smock for its absolute versatility; can be used to keep warm around camp, to beef up the warmth of a thin sleeping bag and as a great backup layer for a bleak day on the hills. The key with all your clothing is that it needs to be good for everything, running, relaxing around camp and sleeping, because you can't afford to carry separate stuff for different activities.

I also had a bit of hardware, mug, spoon, etc. My headtorch was an old Black Diamond model about equivalent in weight and power to a Petzl Tikka. If you run fast enough to need a brighter torch than this then you will finish each stage in daylight and will not use one at all; so anything other than a lightweight torch is overkill. My back up which (just) had enough brightness to get me down to the next CP when my main torch failed (see later) was a Petzl eLite.

All packed in a OMM 20L Adventure sack. I used a 30L drybag inside it as a liner to keep everything dry.

I took 2 identical pairs of  shoes, Skechers GoRun Ultra2. These are not available these days; if I went again I would probably take Hokas - Challengers for the hilly days and Stinsons for the flatter ones (1, 5 and 6). There is very little technical rocky ground on the course so unless you're travelling fast the main concern will be to go for comfort to keep your feet in good shape. There is a certainty of some (and a potential for a lot more) wet ground on days 2, 3 and 4. I took 3 pairs of Drymax socks (one on, one in the pack and one in the shoe drop bag).

I used a very old pair of Gipron collapsible poles. 350g and very sturdy, invaluable when you have knees like mine. These days I have updated to Mountain King Trailblazer carbons, which do roughly the same job.

I used an old Suunto Ambit 2 watch set to "Trek" mode which meant it was only charged once during the week. I used it for gauging distances to the next CP and for an occasional location ping to check the GR of where I was, and of course for telling the time of day.

I took a non-smart phone with a Manx Telecom simcard which works on all available networks. It did not need charging during the week.

I took my eTrex 30 GPS  with a rough plot of the course installed. I find its real value is in the map background enabling you to navigate when it's too difficult to open (or see) a map. I used it a few times, but not much overall.

FOOD

This occupied all the competitors thoughts quite a bit both before and during the event. You have to carry everything except water, but you are allowed a resupply drop bag at the end of Day 3. This means that when your pack is at its heaviest you are carrying 2 Breakfasts, 2 Evening Meals and enough hill food for 3 days running.

The mandatory minimum food requirement in the rules is 2000 calories a day, but the word was that this would be pretty painful so most of us aimed for 3000, which is what I took. I ended Day 6 with nothing left at all.

For main meals I took the freeze dried stuff as did almost everyone else. My typical evening was Soup (100cals) Main course (800) and pudding (500) plus tea and coffee with sugar (100).

For breakfast I used 2 x cereal bars (400) plus tea/coffee (100). Others took another main course for breakfast but I don't eat much in the morning normally so it wouldn't have worked for me.

This totalled 2000 cals per day. While running I ate at least another 1000 calories. I don't get on with technical stuff (gels, etc) over long periods, except Shotbloks. So as well as these I just took normal confectionery - Mars and Snickers bars, Dairy Milk chocolate, Haribos, nuts and raisins, ginger biscuits, etc. I drank just water because the stuff I use for shorter events (Mountain Fuel) is not really weight efficient enough for a long race, Water was carried in two 500ml bottles of the type found in the kids section at Sainsburys. I had a spare 1 litre capacity in a rolled up platypus at the bottom of my sack which I never used.

Because you have your resupply at the end of Day 3 everyone took a "treat meal" for that evening because you don't have to carry it. As it turned out I didn't finish that day until around midnight, so although the meal itself and the extra chocolate were worth it, I fell asleep before enjoying the two cans of G&T I had brought. The support crew enjoyed them the next day though.

It really is worth at least tasting every item you are going to take with you, because there are no other options for 6 days and 235 miles! (although a certain amount of trading does go on between competitors).

I can't stress enough how important it is to take food that (a) you can eat, and (b) has the best calorie to weight ratio you can find. This will be a big topic of discussion on the Facebook forum in the run-up to the event!

STRATEGY

It's a long way, but it has easy and hard days. To maximise your chance of a finish the key is to make sure the easy days are easy and you don't use energy unnecessarily. Once you have finished for the day on the shorter days (1, 2 and 5) all you are going to do is hang around until bed-time, so it makes sense to chill out, slow down and use a bit less energy. Day 1 is short and almost all on good tracks, with no steep climbs. Take it easy. Day 2 is a bit longer but the first two thirds are again gentle and on good tracks, with just one climb (over Cross Fell) right at the end. Day 3 again is pretty gentle until nearly half way, but from there to the end (once you start up Wild Boar Fell) it's pretty testing both physically and navigationally if the weather is not great  -  and it's 46 miles. This will probably leave you pretty knackered starting Day 4 "the Long One" at 60 miles, but if you tough this one out steadily you'll make the finish. As Richard said in the morning briefing at the start of Day 5 "Well you've got it cracked now, just a couple of 30 mile fun runs to finish!" There are no cut-offs, the only rule is you have to be present on the start line at 8am for each day's stage. This was modified to 7am at the start of Day 4 and 9am at the start of Day 5 to give runners a chance of some sleep after the long stage  -  or in my case allowed me to take just under 25 hours on Day 4 and still stay in the race. Day 5 "Canal Hell" is aptly named, many of us found it the hardest day of all, 30 miles on hard-packed or asphalt towpaths when you're already tired, but there is plenty of time so just take it steady and soak it up. Once it's done, so long as you've looked after yourself, Day 6 is the easiest of the lot and great fun because you know it's all going to stop at teatime!

You have to look after your feet. The race medics were wonderful but they can't work miracles. What works for me in "summer" races is a liberal coating of Sudocrem and Drymax socks (the sock makers say don't do this but it works for me), and that lasts me the day. I got wet feet every day (even on the "dry underfoot" days we seemed to hit fields with wet or dewy grass first thing in the morning) so if they hadn't dried out naturally by the end of the days play I dried my socks off in my sleeping bag overnight (sounds unpleasant but not too bad and it works). I finished the event with no significant blisters. You definitely need to work out what works for you, as this can make or break your fun (or even your race).

You need to manage the state of your clothes, because you don't have any spares. Drying is possible at some of the overnight camps but certainly not easy, and if you're drying stuff you're not wearing it. If you get a bit of bad weather you will get wet inside your waterproofs if only from sweat; it's then really important that if it stops raining to get the waterproofs off as soon as possible (even if it feels a bit chilly) to start the drying process. I found in general that the best way to dry your wet clothes (apart from waterproofs) is to keep wearing them.

I found it very helpful not to bother about times at all. I just concentrated on making sure I was feeling OK and let the forward progress take care of itself. It's a great varied course and easy to enjoy. Even on the long day, when I was delayed for a couple of hours by incompetence, I didn't fret about the overall timing taking the view that all you can do is all you can do, and it's either good enough or not.

MISTAKES

I made two serious mistakes, either of which could have stopped my participation in the event, but the organisation were generous enough to let me get away with them.

(1) Coming down off Wild Boar Fell I needed to take a bearing in the mist, only to find that my compass had gone. It was in an open pocket on my pack, tethered by a lanyard and a small carabiner, which had obviously worked open. Having both a watch and a GPS each with a compass I was OK on the ground, but a compass is part of the mandatory kit. I confessed to Richard who happened to be manning the next CP. His view was "well if you survived over there without one you'll probably be OK" and allowed me to carry on. Ever since I have made sure that the compass is secured by a knot at both ends.

(2) As day turned to night towards the end of the long day I put on my torch to find the batteries fading. I was a bit surprised as I had only used them until about midnight the night before and that particular torch usually lasted the whole of a summer night. But I had a spare set that would last the night so I changed them and carried on. Less than three hours later these too started to fade rapidly. I inched my way painfully slowly to the next CP using my back up which dimly illuminated about 3 feet ahead at most. I said to Andy who was running the CP that I would have to drop out as I had no batteries left. No worries, he said, I have batteries; so I was on my way. What happened was that I had in general moved from alkaline to lithium batteries sometime earlier, but had not checked that they were compatible with the torch I took on Deadwater, which was one of my smaller, older ones to save weight. They weren't.

These are just two examples that if you don't prepare everything thoroughly then there is no-where to hide on an event like this.

Stay (more or less) in control and you'll have a great, rewarding time. Richard's team will look after you and you'll finish, even if only a little, a bit different from when you started. 

Pennine Barrier 50

The end of June has always meant the West Highland Way race for me, but after getting my tenth goblet last year I decided to take a year off. With the need to have a back-up crew it's probably the most expensive race in my calendar each year and I'm also starting to feel guilty about press-ganging my family into action for more sleep deprived and midge-infested weekends in Scotland. It will always have a pull for me though, and I'm sure I'll be back. Reading the reports of this year's race has already had me half wishing that I had gone. But I made the decision and looked around for a nice event that didn't drain my physical or financial resources too much but would still be good for the last long day out before the Lakeland 100 a month later.

I had done the GB Ultras Snowdonia 50 last autumn so knew that their organisation was pretty good and their Pennine Barrier 50 seemed to meet my requirements almost spot on. I had always wanted to run the Yorshire Three Peaks course but had somehow never got around to it; the Pennine Barrier completes this 26 mile loop but makes it into a nice-looking 50 miler by adding an approach and return from Malham village.

I hadn't really thought what to do about accommodation until fairly late on, so by the time that I decided a relaxing weekend staying in the vicinity for both Friday and Saturday nights would be best, everything in Malham was full. I booked a room at the Falcon in Arncliffe which was a nice half-hour drive away over the moors, later finding out that the pub had been used as the original "Woolpack" in the Emmerdale TV soap show. All the race registration procedures could be done on the Friday evening at the event base at Malham showground just south of the village, which meant that on the Saturday all I had to do was tumble out of bed and drive over to Malham for the 6am start.

It was clear even at this time that it was going to be a beautiful day, so the compulsory waterproof top was buried at the bottom of the pack and stayed there, it was a tee-shirt outing from start to finish. Most runners were liberally applying sunscreen before the start which seemed a wise move. There was a concurrent 100 mile event which would take our 50 mile loop back to Malham then go onto a second different loop. The 50 or so entrants for this were set off at the stroke of 6am, followed by the 200 or so taking on the 50 a couple of minutes later.

My mountain ultra policy of "run the downhills, walk the rest" was not going to work on this one because although the total climb involved was fairly substantial at just over 9,000ft, it was mostly concentrated in a few obvious climbs with a lot of gently undulating ground in between. I decided that I had to jog all the flattish bits or I would likely be out for the maximum time of 18 hours. Around 14 hours seemed a more sensible target as it would allow me to finish in daylight and get back to Arncliffe for a couple of beers to round off the day, so I joined the joggers, still near the back of the pack, as we wound northwards through Malham then along the track to Malham Cove.  The procession up the cove steps seemed to go a lot slower than I would have walked on my own but it gave an early breather. Once clear of the limestone pavement and the little rocky valley above though, the field started to spread out on the fairly even ground of the Pennine Way and each of us could settle into our own pace.

There was a short, artificial out and back just before the tarn to make sure the course topped the official 50 miles, then nice easy jogging around the tarn, still following the Pennine Way northwards to the foot of Fountains Fell, where I dropped into a steady walk to the summit. I had been over Fountains several times before in my Pennine meanderings but never in clear weather, so it was a treat to see the fine views developing as we went over the top. The descent seemed far easier than I remembered and we were soon at the first checkpoint down in Silverdale Road at nearly 12 miles in. The weather was getting warm now, even still well before 9am, so regular water top-ups were necessary.

Off up Pen y Ghent now, steady walking up the easy track. Just before the final steep section a track directly up from Horton in Ribblesdale comes in from the left (often used as the "escape route" on the Spine if conditions on Pen y Ghent summit are problematic), and this is the point where we joined the Three Peaks "loop". Unfortunately, it was where we also joined several hundred walkers out to complete the loop on what was the longest Saturday of the year. Everyone has their own right to be on the hills of course, so we shouldn't complain about others taking their own advantage of the fine weather and beautiful countryside. It was easy enough to pass them and I got to where the "walking field" thinned out substantially about 12 or 13 miles further on. A short rocky staircase led to the top of Pen y Ghent then a wide easy track down the other side permitted faster movement once again. I had always followed this track back down to Horton, so when we reached the crossroads where the direct route to Whernside leaves it, I was onto new ground for the first time.

A few gently undulating miles on an easy-to-jog track led to the next checkpoint at the base of the famous Ribble Head Viaduct. Walkers and runners alike were starting to show the effects of heat by now, but these are conditions that I'm quite happy with, I would much rather be hot than cold. After a handful of sweets and biscuits and a fresh water top-up I was soon away on the ascent of Whernside. This is a long, gently ascending track pretty well all the way to the summit. I'm sure on a round of the Three Peaks alone I would try to run at least part of it, but today it was a welcome rest from jogging and I cruised up at a steady walking pace. The GB Ultras team seemed to have marshals on every summit as well as all the checkpoints, so it was nice to get a bit of encouragement from them on reaching the top, especially as Whernside summit is approximately halfway around the course and from here on the walking contingent really started to thin out. The descent from Whenside was mostly gentle with a short steeper section in the middle, and I was then down in the valley bottom with the rather steep looking face of the next peak, Ingleborough, dead ahead.

I had marked the course on the mandatory OS map but I was using a race vest for the first time ever (making progress into the modern world maybe but only because I won it in a competition!) and hadn't really worked out the best place to stow a map so it wasn't very accessible. It didn't seem to matter because the "Three Peaks" course is waymarked on almost every gatepost and stile you pass so I was just following those. I knew there was a checkpoint before the ascent of Ingleborough but it was soon becoming clear that I was heading up the fell out of the valley again without having passed it. I stopped and looked around and saw runners approaching me from a different direction, so I back-tracked to where they had come from and found the checkpoint tucked away up a road slightly off the "Three Peaks" route. The price of not paying attention, but it had cost me no more than a half mile or so and I wasn't going to let it spoil my day.

Suitably refuelled I set off up Ingleborough, which in spite of its fierce appearance was mainly an easy-angled ascent with just two or three hundred feet of steep ground somewhere in the middle. The view from the top was simply stunning, across the Dales to the east and right over Lancashire to the sea in the west, and with five of the seven significant climbs on the course now done, a great place to reach. The descent from here down to Horton was long but very gentle and I managed something of a jog all the way down, to another checkpoint on the sportsfield in the village. The field had really thinned out by now so I had to get the map out to be sure of the right exit from the village and onto the track up Pen y Ghent. The compulsory map was an OS Outdoor Leisure 1:25000, a huge sheet printed on both sides. Of course the bit I wanted required the map to be completely unfolded then refolded on the other side to get at it. The day had been really free-flowing up to that point and I rather resented the few minutes that this exercise took. I knew I might need the map again right at the end of the course so I made sure I re-folded it appropriately for quick access to this before I finally put it away.

It was quite a pull back up to the gate just below the rocky bit of Pen y Ghent but it went steadily enough and at that point the "Three Peaks Circuit" was complete, with just the final eleven miles or so back to Malham to do. I caught a couple of runners as I jogged down the easy track to the final checkpoint, which was the same as the first one back in Silverdale Road. One more climb then downhill all the way to the finish. I find that however much I try to conceal it, my brain knows when I'm on the last major climb of an event so contrives to make it feel tough; I had enjoyed all the climbs up until now but it wasn't going to let me have a whole day out without exacting a bit of pain to pay for the trip. On the way up I overtook one runner who had almost stopped, but could make no headway chasing four others that I saw ahead, and by the time I got to the top they were out of sight. Ah well, easy now and I settled into a steady jog on the beautifully angled (for descending) path down the other side, enjoying the views and the fine and still warm evening. I got back to within a hundred yards or so the four ahead as we passed Tennant Gill farm but then I could see they had missed the turn to the left that the Pennine Way takes. I shouted and waved but no reaction, then after a while they realised their mistake when I was parallel with them but a couple of hundred yards to the left, so they started to back-track. I carried on jogging from here and never saw them again. Not having to save anything for more hills I kept up a steady jog all the way past the tarn and across the easy ground on the other side to as far as the start of the rocky valley before the Cove. I caught another group here and stayed with them a while.

The homeward route left the outward one at the top of the Cove. Instead of crossing back over the limestone pavement and down the steps we went leftwards and slightly uphill to pick up the Dales High Way heading for Gordale Bridge. One of the other guys had pushed on faster but I seemed to be leaving the others so was on my own again for a bit. At Goredale Bridge we crossed the road to find a really pleasant runnable track leading down to and past Janet's Foss; even at approaching 8pm there were still bathers in the pool underneath the waterfall there.

I thought I might just get back to the finish before 8pm because it only looked about a mile from here, and it seemed I had cracked it easily when I saw the flags and cars on the showground appear not too far ahead. What I realised a few moments later though was that they were on the other side of the river, and to reach them required a sidestep of a few hundred yards to reach the bridge in Malham village, then back out again. Looking at the watch I made a more determined effort for a few minutes and eventually made it to the finish line in 13:55:52 for 102nd place, job done.

It was a fine day out and as a last long training day before the Lakeland, just about perfect. I had got round in the time I set myself without ever feeling particularly pressed, and the weather and consequent views were special. This is one I might do again.

At the top of the rocky valley above Malham Cove on the outward leg

A Reason for Trying

This isn't a race report or anything technically interesting. It's just a bit of musing. Mainly articulated for me I suppose but writing things down is sometimes necessary to understand one's feelings a bit better. And I needed to do it  with a clear head but soon enough after the events that prompted them for the thoughts to be still real in my mind and not just one of a collection of favourably massaged memories.

Early yesterday morning I pulled out of the Hardmoors 110 race at the Clay Bank checkpoint, which comes after about 80 miles. It wasn't a decision, it was an inevitability by that stage. After a good 53 mile run up the coast from Filey to Saltburn I was right on my planned schedule. I had created a 2 hour buffer over the cut-off time and was good to go on the section of the course I knew best, the remaining half to Helmsley. Yet over the next 15 miles things went wrong. I got progressively more tired and found the final uphill of the the stage to Captain Cook's monument, absolutely draining. Worse, I had slowed so badly that I got to Kildale , the only place on the last 90 miles of the course where you can get inside and regroup a bit, an hour and a half late. I had planned that if I arrived at this point needing some R&R then there would be plenty of time for a good recovery, but I had barely half an hour. I slept for maybe 15 minutes, had some pizza and a few cups of tea, then got out on the course again. On the long but fairly gentle climb back up onto the moors I was continually falling asleep though by now it was daylight. In spite of eating a steady stream of haribos and ginger biscuits I couldn't get going at anything better than a slow walk. Runners caught and passed me at regular intervals. By the time I got to Bloworth Crossing, a lonely but strangely captivating spot and a real landmark on this particular course, the writing was on the wall. At this pace I wasn't going to reach the next cut-off point in time and I couldn't find any way to speed up. I shambled the remaining miles down to civilisation at Clay Bank and called it a day. The remaining runner on the course and the sweeper arrived soon afterwards.

My initial reaction was that this event was now too big for me. I should stay away from 100-milers these days and stick to the 50's that I know I can finish. Time and tide, and all that. But I thought back to a reflective post by a friend, Ian, a few weeks ago, and I hope he'll forgive me for quoting a passage of it here. 

" I’m left a bit frustrated that my performances overall are getting worse and I’m finding it harder to do these events. I trained well for this one but found it a tough slog at many points, especially hiking up the big hills which took me a bit by surprise. Biological and running age is definitely catching up with me, and I can’t do the times or performances I used to be able to do. That I suppose is inevitable, but still frustrating. I’m 53 now, and have been doing a lot of endurance running for almost 30 years. Of course I am going to be slower, my head tells me. My heart doesn’t though, and still expects me to go out there and perform the way I did 20 years ago."

For me the numbers are different but the sentiments are exactly the same. My overwhelming reaction to my recent Hardmoors experience was frustration at an event which 10 or even 5 years ago I could have completed without question.

We have to re-adjust our sights. But how far?

Ian went on to explore this a bit but I think has not yet come to a conclusion. If we lower the bar far enough so that we can always succeed, is there any satisfaction in that beyond a few nice days out in the country. On the other side, if failures to complete our chosen project become too frequent does the frustration of what might have been a few years ago become just too much to make the activity worthwhile? 

Why anyway do we choose to indulge in such a time consuming, frequently painful and occasionally disappointing game as long distance running? Well let's leave aside for now the health benefits of physical exercise and the social and aesthetic rewards of travelling through the countryside with like-minded people, and we are left with what you get out of participating in organised events. Would any of us carry on if there were no races? Well maybe, but then it would be an entirely different activity. So what do we get out of competing? 

Sometimes I will go to an event, run as well as I can without getting too stressed, finish somewhere in the middle of the pack and go home feeling that I've had a great day out. It's fun and rewarding but somehow not memorable, a bit like skiing on the piste or mountain biking a prepared trail.  It's good for the bread and butter, but sometimes you need more to provide the jam. At whatever level we take it, for most people this is a sport, and that means we need to be seriously challenged, by others, by ourselves, or by the course.

We can compete against others, to win the race, to be on the podium, to win our age group. We can try produce our best possible time, maybe do better than we did on the same course last year, to get the satisfaction of improvement and the approval of our friends. And for many ultra runners, this defines their game. It's a conventional athletic activity albeit in maybe an unusual overall environment. But I wrote a piece on my former blog "Running Late" back in March 2012 entitled "The Toughest Race in the World" in which I tried to tease out exactly what makes a race "tough". I came to the conclusion that while one course may be intrinsically more difficult than another in terms of length, height gain, ground underfoot, navigational requirements and so on, the factor that eventually defines just how hard an event is to complete is the time that its Race Director sets as the maximum allowable. To take an obvious example, the Tour du Mont Blanc trail is completed by thousands of "ordinary" people every year; most of them take between 10 and 14 days for the circuit. Now run a race round the same course with a maximum time allowance of 46 hours and half of the trained ultra-runners who set out won't make the finish.

And here I think, for those of us with modest and/or declining abilities, is the key.  We can enjoy events which we know we can finish, but we will get our best rewards from those which we know at the outset are near our limit, and for which the outcome is in doubt.

I thought again about my Hardmoors 110 experience. Was failure inevitable from the start, which was my initial reaction after pulling out, or could I have done things differently to tip the odds a bit more my way?  If I had slowed down closer to the cut-offs over the first half would I maybe not have been hit by the overwhelming tiredness later ? If I had chosen to go with a support crew, would the extra flexibility with food, gear, the ability to sit in a warm car for a few minutes occasionally and to have carried a significantly lighter pack for most of the way have made a difference? I don't know, but there's enough doubt there to suggest to me that this year, this event was not unarguably beyond me but in the balance, and that's a tantalising thought. A challenge right on the limit.

But although the satisfaction of a successful finish is huge when attempting something you know is at your boundaries, there will inevitably be more DNF's.  I can live with that. I grew up in the West Midlands Engineering culture of "the bloke who never made a mistake never made anything". I would never criticize the runners who proudly claim that they've never had a DNF, but can't help feeling that they might be missing out somewhere along the line.  

My next two events are the GB Ultras "Pennine Barrier" 50 in four weeks time, then the Lakeland 100 five weeks after that. The former is a race I have never run in an interesting area that I only really half know. Barring accidents I'm expecting to complete and thoroughly enjoy it, unspectacularly but within the time allowed. The Lakeland however is an event that I have started six times and finished three. The last completion was three years ago and I'm becoming increasingly aware that a week off 71 is significantly different from a week off 68. So is the outcome in doubt? Absolutely. Will this prevent my starting and giving it my best? Not a chance.

You miss 100% of the shots you don't take.