Hindsight.

It was a great start to the year. Decent base miles collected through the worst part of the winter, then moving into more structured, hard training in late February and early March. Smashing out the miles like never before. 180km+ weeks, speedwork, track sessions, tempo sessions, double days, back to back long runs. I was tired… very tired… but I’ve never felt as fit in my whole life. It seemed that every time I laced up my trainers I’d get another PB or bag a few more Strava CRs, fresh legs be damned. I was treading a fine line, I knew that. But I’d made my pact with the Devil - I wanted to run 100 miles in 12 hours at Crawley and nothing short of everything I had was going to be good enough to achieve that.

Running to the local track, smashing out 3 hour sessions, setting new marathon PBs along the way, rounds of applause from random people in the stands wondering what the hell I was doing when I finally stopped running round and round and round and round… and then that tightness, painful tightness across my groin as I started the run home. Not right, surely… but a few miles later it had loosened up again. Maybe it’s ok? Except that it wasn’t, not on these hard, long tempo runs. Not really on these hilly runs either. Easy runs seem ok though… And then a virus, wiping me out completely for a few weeks just before Crawley - not great timing but at least it’ll give my groin time to fix up…?

Crawley comes and goes. Not 100 miles, but close, painfully close. The niggle in my groin being subsumed into the effort and drowned out by the shouting from every other part of my body during the course of the race. But afterwards… not so good. Still, five weeks until GUCR. Plenty of time.

Except it’s not, not when you’re body is recovering from 100 miles of additional wear and tear. Hands over ears, not listening, maybe it’ll go away. My plantar fasciitis was once fixed by a 55km training run (true story). Maybe 145 miles is just what my groin needs.

GUCR comes and goes. But this time the screaming from the other bits of me isn’t quite managing to drown out the pain in my groin. It makes me grumpy. I run protectively of it, messing up my gait and inflicting new stresses on other unsuspecting parts of my body. I in turn inflict the worst of my grumpiness on a poor unsuspecting Sarah, doing her best to pull me along to the finish. I’m pleased with my time, but for once I didn’t love the process.

Afterwards… well, 145 miles is not kind on your body at the best of times. And it seems that it wasn’t the magical cure for a dodgy groin after all. Sitting up unaided is hard. Sneezing nearly cuts me in half unless I curl myself into a little ball first. And the pain seems to have migrated down into my left leg now too. A few abortive attempts at getting back to running. Not happening.

Peaks and troughs. Good days, bad days, days not thinking about it and days of utter, wall crawling frustration. Second, third opinions, little consensus. Kettlebells are my new best friend, and I’m enjoying balancing out my body a little - I’m finally developing a small semblance of upper body strength to compliment the strength of my overworked legs. Silver linings.

And then the bike. From abject ambivalence of anything bike-related, to begrudging enjoyment, to something more, much more. It’s not running… but I’m slowly coming to understand that it’s not supposed to be. Miles of beautiful English countryside, miles I’d never have seen otherwise, different miles to those I’d cover on my own two feet. Not better, not worse, just different. A new skill to learn, revelling in being at the start of something, in being 1134th position on a Strava segment instead of up there at the top. Humbling. Restorative. A new challenge. Again, balancing out my body, working muscles that have been neglected for years. And a chance to suffer again, in a good way, in a positive way, working the lungs and head and heart nice and hard in a way I’ve not felt for a good few months. It’s not running… but I realise now that it doesn’t need to be.

My race calendar is empty, upcoming races scrubbed out with a heavy heart. This season is over, I know that. But hopefully this will be a time I look back on as a positive one, one in which I learned new things and built a better, stronger body and a wiser mind. Only time will tell.

—

This is not intended to be a cautionary tale, except perhaps as one for my own future self. Everyone is on their own journey. To get the very best out of yourself as an athlete you have to skirt the very fine line between peak fitness and injury or illness. You can read as many articles as you like about the dangers of overtraining, the importance of rest and recovery, but you won’t learn about yourself and your own personal limits from a book or a blog. Personal experience, trial and error - these trump everything else as learning tools. Hindsight is the only lens we have that can really help us to see past the generics and get a peek into the specifics of our own body, our own responses to stress and fatigue and training load. The important thing is to find those lines, be aware and accepting when you’ve crossed them, and find ways to avoid making the same mistakes again.

The frustration might leak out once in a while, but I deep down I know that 2016 will see me come back with a wiser, more experienced head on my shoulders and a body that’s ready to do battle with the trails and roads and tracks once again. I can’t wait.

Grand Union Canal Race 2015

When I was first getting into ultras about two and a half years ago I was trawling the internet for any ultra running-related reading material when I stumbled across James Adams’ blog. At the time I’d never met or even heard of James but I spent a good few hours reading some of the epic race reports on his site. One of those, and the one which really stuck in my mind at the time, was his report from the 2008 Grand Union Canal race. At the time I couldn’t even get my head around running 100 miles (let alone 145!) and the tale of his emotional ups and downs over the course of his journey from Birmingham to London, running through day and night and back into the day again, left me feeling like this was a scale of challenge that would likely forever be beyond me.

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But it’s funny how quickly your perspective can change. I’m a completely different runner now to the runner I was when I first read that report, and just over a week ago I found myself on the GUCR start line not only looking to complete the race but with an ambition to be the first person to run the route in under 24 hours. I’d never run more than 100 miles but my (perhaps naive) assumption was that with a 100 mile PB of 12:04 I should be able to go through the 100 mile point of this race in  around 15 hours and I should feel quite comfortable. That would leave me with 9 hours to run 45 miles, which unless the wheels really came off seemed perfectly reasonable. I knew that there were a few other good runners in the race this year, most notably Dan Lawson who recently competed for Team GB at the World 24 hour Champs and who I had once met very briefly when I said hello to him in the middle of his epic 7 day, 521 mile treadmill challenge. But my main focus before the race was really on getting under 24 hours - with the Pat Robbins’ course record set at 25 hours 37 mins I figured that if I could run sub 24 then I’d probably win the race pretty handily anyway.

How wrong I was. 22 hours and 42 minutes later I crossed the finish line at Little Venice, nearly three hours under Pat’s old course record but very firmly in second place to Dan, who had been sitting in his chair for a good 25 minutes by the time I got there.

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We’d run much of the first 50 miles together, leapfrogging past each other as we each met our respective crews at different points along the way, until I’d stopped for a pee in the bushes, shouting to Dan to let him know I was stopping and that I’d ‘catch him up later’. I never did. Instead he opened up a lead on me over the next 20 miles or so that remained pretty constant for the rest of the race, despite my best efforts to keep moving as fast as I could whilst simultaneously willing him to slow down.

It was a bit of an odd race for me, and one which was very different to my experiences in the last three 100 milers I’d run. In those races I’d had my fair share of low points, but I’d also had long stretches of feeling inspired, really loving the running and the experience of covering such an epic distance on foot. Even in Crawley, running round a track for 12 hours (and pushing myself so hard that I nearly collapsed) I had real moments of exhilaration and stretches where I was feeling good and strong and generally in control of matters. But right from the start of GUCR I just felt a bit flat - not bad, just not as full of energy as I’d expected to feel. And a no point in the race did I really feel good - I seemed to lack the inspiration and excitement that I’d become accustomed to feeling in previous races. I had expected to get to 100 miles feeling pretty solid (considering I was aiming to hit that mark about 3 hours slower than my 100 mile PB) but by the time I go there I’d been feeling pretty rough since mile 70, with frequent ‘behind-the-bush’ stops and a stomach that just wasn’t really playing ball. I bounced back a bit for a little while, but I just seemed to be unable to find my ‘flow’, that special place where you can occasionally find yourself when everything just melts away and you can truly immerse yourself in the joy of just moving through the landscape, progressing along your personal journey with fluidity and enjoyment. My previous three races had felt like creative acts - like painting a picture when inspiration takes over and the brush moves effortlessly over the canvas. But this felt more like doing a job - like knocking out a replica picture to earn a few quid, harder not because of the extra effort needed but rather because the inspiration factor was lacking.

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I’m not sure why this was the case. Maybe because it was my first time at this distance, maybe because I was worried about my groin (which I’d tweaked prior to Crawley and which was still giving me a bit of gip) or maybe it was just one of those days. But what I do know is that I had the best crew on the planet that day - Sarah, my Dad, Drew, Claire and Tim - and without them the race would have been very different indeed. Before the race Drew had said to me that the last 45 miles is really all about your crew and ‘buddy runners’ (no ‘pacers’ allowed at GUCR), and I now know what he means! Obviously you can do this race un-crewed or with a minimal crew, but for a race of this distance having a knowledgeable and experienced group of people like I did really makes all the difference when it comes to posting a fast time. They ran with me, encouraged me, fetched me McDonald’s chips multiple times when it was all my stomach could handle, kept me amused, took my mind off the pain and the feeling of general flatness, helped me not miss the crucial bridge crossings and all in all made it possible for me to get to that finish line in a time that I’m still incredibly happy with.

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And that is the funny thing - I am very happy with the outcome and I really don’t want to sound too negative about my day out there on the canal. I’d love to have won, naturally, but Dan’s superior strength and experience over that distance meant he very deservingly took the top spot on the day. I’m extremely pleased to have gone not just sub-24 but sub-23, but the process was just not quite as fulfilling as in other races because I just didn’t feel the ‘x-factor’ was there with me that day. In some ways that is actually quite exciting and has helped to give me confidence that even when I’m not feeling amazing I can still grind out a result that I’m pleased with. And I’m pretty sure if I can find that inspiration (and get the right conditions - we were fortunate to have had really great weather for racing) I can go faster than I did on that course. And yes that does mean that I’m planning on coming back for another crack at it some day!

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But for now it’s time to back off the miles for a bit, get into the gym and generally put my body back together again. For a number of reasons Sarah and I have now decided not to do the Lakeland 100 (we were running as a mixed pair), so my next race will likely be Run Rabbit Run 100 in the US in September. I’m hopefully attending a conference for work in Portland the week before so it would seem rude to pass up an opportunity to skip over to Colorado and run a gnarly mountain race a few days afterwards. And I have to say I’m really looking forward to getting out of my comfort zone and getting taken back to school by some of the big boys of US ultra trail racing. So between now and then I’ll be leaving behind the flat road running that I’ve been doing and hitting the trails of the South Downs with a vengeance again. I can’t wait.

Lastly, without sounding too cheesy, I really do want to thank my crew for their tireless efforts over the weekend. Drew’s canal knowledge and advice was invaluable, Claire and Tim kept me moving and distracted through some pretty rough patches, poor Sarah got the worst of my moaning and downright rudeness and Dad once again did a great job of ferrying everyone around, racking up the miles throughout the day and night while Mum was at home doing a cracking job of looking after the kids. And last but not least, a huge thanks to Dawn for lending us her Body Rehab van as a crew vehicle - it really made the whole thing much more enjoyable for my crew and as everyone knows, a happy crew means a happy runner. Thank you!

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View the GPS route and splits on Strava

99.6 miles at the Crawley 12 hour race

At the end of last year I went up to Profeet in Fulham to support Paul on his (successful) attempt to break the treadmill 50km world record. After he finished, a group of us went over to the pub across the road to grab some food. Over lunch I mentioned that I was considering doing the Crawley 12 hour race instead of the South Downs Way 50 as it might be a more specific tune-up race for my main early-season focus, GUCR. At that point Robbie turned to me and said that the only reason he would run a 12hr track race would be if it was to try and hit the magic 100 mile distance. 100 miles in 12 hours - those sounded like pretty ridiculous numbers. But then again, having recently run the Berlin 100 in 13:06 maybe I could get somewhere in the same ballpark if it was on a more controlled environment like a track? Hmmm…

A few months later and I’m standing on the Crawley K2 track awaiting the start of the 12 hour event. Somehow that little seed that was sown in my mind has turned this race from a tune-up for GUCR into an full blown ‘A’ race for me. I have no idea how close I can get to 100 miles in the allotted twelve hours but I’ve made the decision to go out at a pace that will at least give me a fighting chance of getting there - if of course I can maintain it for the duration.

My build up to this race has been a funny mix. I’ve hit some of the biggest and best training weeks I’ve ever had and I’ve been running times in training that (although far from spectacular in the grand scheme of things) I’d have only dreamed of a few years ago. But then, after my last scheduled ‘big week’ of mileage I suddenly found myself completely wiped out by a respiratory infection. I was in bed for the whole of Easter and had been plagued with a chesty cough and zero energy ever since then. The last week before the race had seen me drinking litres of ginger tea and praying to the gods of the track that my legs - which felt like wooden blocks every time I tried to run - would come good on the day. But thankfully by the time race morning came around my breathing seemed to have sorted itself out - my confidence had taken a bit of a knock but physically I knew I couldn’t have lost that much fitness in the preceding weeks.

***

The hooter sounds to start the race and I slip into the front in lane one, getting straight up to speed. My plan is to run 4:20 mins/km (about 1:44 mins per lap) for as long as I possibly can, hopefully past the 50 mile mark. That will then give me a little wiggle room to allow for me slowing down a touch in the second half. To hit 100 miles in the 12 hours I will need to average 4:27 min/km. I’m pretty sure that a few of the others on the track are thinking that I am going to blow up horribly at some point, going out at this speed. I’ve no idea whether they will be proved right or not - whilst it’s not a fast pace for shorter distances I have never tried to run at that pace for anything much past a marathon. But hey, a track race is a pretty ‘safe’ environment to give it a go. If I blow up spectacularly I can just stop and walk away at any point and the only knock will be to my confidence… and of course my pride.

I’ve never done a race on a track before - not even a shorter ‘proper’ track race like a 5000m or so. But I have done a few long (~3 hour) training sessions on my local track so it’s not a completely alien environment to me. I say hi to a few people as I overtake them but this early on in the race people mostly seem focused on warming up the bodies and minds. A long time to go yet.

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Sarah is (once again) crewing for me, although today she is doing double duty - she’s also my lap recorder for the day. Not a trivial task to have to keep a constant eye on the clock and write down lap times every minute and a bit for twelve hours. I give her a wave and a smile every time I pass. The funny thing is that today will probably be the longest block of time I have seen of her in weeks - in between work and training and kids and everything else we are often like two ships passing in the night during most of the week.

I stop for a quick pee on the grass off the back side of the track, losing a minute or so but there is nothing to be done - my timing plan has to account for a few pit stops. What is really worrying me however is my stomach. I’ve only been running for an hour or so but it’s already feeling pretty uncomfortable and whilst I’ve been taking on some liquid calories in the form of UCAN I can tell that today is going to be one of those where it’s a struggle to eat properly. Another hour and a bit passes. legs feel fine so far but I’m really starting to feel a little sick and I have a heavy, churning feeling in my stomach. I make the decision to sacrifice a little time in exchange for a run to the toilet, it’s a gamble but I need to try and sort out my guts before things get any worse or I’ll be in for a very long day indeed.

Back on the track and I’m feeling a little better, enough to start getting a few more calories in via a mix of UCAN, boiled new potatoes and Nakd fruit & nut bars. I’m ticking off the laps - my watch is showing 4:20 min/km pace on the dot but I know that the GPS isn’t measuring an accurate 400m per lap so the pace is probably just a touch slower than that. No matter. I hit 100 laps in 2:57, just before the start of the 6 hour race, pretty much on target and with my legs still feeling pretty comfortable even if my stomach still isn’t great.

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The 6 hour race starting sees a few familiar faces joining the track - a friend Dan (Skrobak) is doing it, and despite setting a massive PB of 2:43 at last week’s Brighton Marathon he’s aiming for 50 miles or so in the six hours. On fresh legs he’d easily run that; the bonus for me is that for him to hit that target he’ll need to be running at about the same pace as I am, which means I may have some company for the time he’s on the track. I also spot and say hello to Travis Wilcox (who has run the Berlin 100 a few times now, including last year when I did it), and Helen James who I’ve never met but who I know by reputation from her Team GB running exploits.

Although the track is busier now it’s nice to get some more motivation from the fresh faces on the track, and it’s great to see Dan and congratulate him on his great run at Brighton. We form a mini train of two and start clicking off the laps, I’m perhaps pushing a bit harder than I should at this point to keep up with his fresh legs but we are still hitting about the right pace and it’s very nice to have some company. I’m trying to get some calories down me but my stomach is feeling worse and worse as I do so. Sarah knows it and is looking a little worried as I go past her repeatedly, asking if there is anything she can do - but right now it’s out of either of our hands really, I just have to wait and hope that it passes. But I’m starting to feel really sick, four and a half hours is really too early to start vomiting and still stand much chance of finishing the race although it’s exactly what I feel I need to do right now. But I fight the urge, stop trying to take in any more calories and hope that things will settle down.

More laps tick by, some with Dan, some alone when our slight differences in pace have naturally caused us to drift apart. My legs are feeling a little fatigued now but no more than I’d expect from five plus hours on my feet, and my stomach seems to finally be settling down a little. I decide that I’m going to switch onto Coke for my calories - earlier than I normally would but it’s the best chance I have of keeping my energy up with the least possible stomach impact. Dan seems to be dropping off the pace a little, undoubtably still a little fatigued from his previous week’s efforts and I find myself running alone again for the most part. Fellow Centurion team members Paul and Eddie have turned up and (even though there is none of the singing I was promised) it’s great to see some friendly faces. It also means that they can pass me bottles while Sarah continues on with her lap recording. Nice for her to have some company too I’m sure.

The wind has been steadily picking up over the last few hours and on the exposed Crawley track it’s definitely making it hard to keep my pace up around the half of the lap where it’s in my face. My splits are still looking reasonable however, I’m probably hitting about a 1:46 average and just before 6 hours I reach the 50 mile mark. So far so good… 

My watch clicks over to 6 hours and it’s time to change direction. I’ve been looking forward to this. I finish my lap, run around Pam Storey (the organiser of the event) who is standing on the track, and head back the other way, passing a handful of runners who were behind me on the turnaround lap. Suddenly it’s a whole new world - everything is the wrong way round. The parts of the track that had a nice tailwind are now the dreaded slog sides where I’m battling to keep my pace up, I’m picking up bottles with my left hand not my right… all very strange. The other thing that is strange is my watch; suddenly the pace reading it is giving me is all over the place. I’m moving quicker than Dan at this point and when I next go past him he mentions that his watch is doing the same, somehow it seems that the direction change has caused some issue with the GPS signal because it’s not giving me a reliable read-out at all. In most races I wouldn’t care much about this; I normally run to feel and pay very little attention to checking my pace while I’m running. But this race is different, I need to keep up a very specific speed and after having run for 6+ hours already it’s hard to rely on your natural pace estimation, as it is likely feeling much harder than normal to run at the pace I need to maintain. I run blindly for a while, hoping that my watch will sort itself out, but it doesn’t and I’m starting to get flustered just at the time in the race when it’s most important to stay calm and collected.

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By this point more of the Centurion crew have arrived, James, Drew and Claire are all there helping Sarah with the lap recording and cheering me on. Drew very kindly lends me his watch which I strap on, only to find that it’s in mins/mile rather than the mins/km that I’m used to. I ask my (now pretty large!) support crew what my pace should be in these unfamiliar units in order to keep me on-pace for a sub-12 hour 100 miles. But I’m still in a bit of a flap and don’t pay proper attention, and end up running for a good chunk of time unwittingly at too slow a pace. After a while James points out to me that my previous ten laps or so have been averaging around 1:50-1:52 per lap. That is far too slow and I know it, and I curse myself for losing my focus and leaking precious time.

I’m quickly finding that racing a timed event, on a track and with a specific, extremely ambitious mileage target like this is absolutely brutal. There is nowhere to hide - it’s just you and your splits, which are getting harder and harder to hit with every extra lap in your legs. You can’t lose focus, you can’t let your mind wander, you just need to keep in that zone, and with every lap you are having to push that little bit harder to maintain your pace. Every lap you drop one second means a lap you need to make one second up. It’s utterly relentless, and as I go round and round I have the curious feeling of everything external to me slipping away. It’s me, my watch and the track. Nothing else matters. Time has pretty much ceased to have any meaning and I find that I almost don’t care about how many hours I have left. All that matters is keeping my pace up, checking my watch, getting my split times from my crew. Relentless.

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Sarah and the Centurion posse are doing a great job of feeling me information, Coke and support. James keeps me updated on my lap times as I go through the 10 hour mark, and hits me with the bad news that with my current splits I’m not going to make it. I need to find another 2 seconds per lap, he says. I tell him that there is no way in hell I can find 2 seconds per lap, but my next 8 laps are magically all two seconds faster. I’m hurting pretty badly now, my body is screaming at me to stop but somehow I’m still feeling in control. The sickness is long gone and now it is a pure test of focus, self belief and seeing if my body can hold together while I push it way beyond anywhere I’ve pushed it before. My splits start to drift again and again James tells me what I need to do to pull it back. I’m really losing track of time at this point but I go through the 140km mark in about 10:26 and I think to myself that all I need to do now is run a 1:34 half marathon and I’ll have it in the bag. I ran a 1:19 half in a training run a week or so ago so 1:34 should be easy, but my legs have 140km in them and I know that it’s going to be tight, really tight, maybe too tight.

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More laps, pushing as hard as I can… James updates me again, tells me that at my current pace I’m going to miss my target by about 300 meters. I grit my teeth and dig deep, deeper than I’ve ever dug before. I’m not going to let this slip away from me now. I’m speeding up, I’m shedding seconds of my lap times but I can literally feel the toll the increased speed is taking on my body, pulling me apart with every step. I’m totally red-lining it but now with less than an hour to go it’s all or nothing, this right here is the line that separates nearly great from the really great and I’m damned if I’m going down without a fight when I’ve come this far already today. It’s still tight, too tight in fact but maybe if I can just cling on and run myself into the ground in the last 20 minutes I can make up those seconds - or is it minutes now? - that I need.

Sarah is doing a great job of running alongside me for a few meters each lap, keeping me updated and giving me motivation but I find I can barely acknowledge her presence, I’m lost so deep within myself trying to find the focus needed to hit those damn lap times. The other 12 hour runners on the track are fantastic, giving me the inside lane when I come past and cheering me on with their kind words of support even though I can barely grunt back replies.

I’m pushing, pushing, pushing. Everything hurts but somehow I still have a overall feeling of being in control of the situation. Sarah tells me that even if I don’t make the 100 miles in the 12 hours, the race officials have very kindly agreed to keep the clock running in order to give me an official 100 mile time. A part of me feels like telling her not to worry, I’m not going to need it, I’m not going to let this slip away. But I don’t. Instead I just push, those splits that have become my nemesis chipping away at me, breaking me down, but so close now…

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Then suddenly, everything changes. I’m not sure quite what has happened but it’s like a light switch being flipped in my head. The feeling of being in control has gone, completely and utterly. I’m in a place I’ve never been before, the pain is the same but my head is suddenly foggy, and my field of vision seems different somehow. I feel a little cross-eyed to be honest. Less than fifteen minutes to go but I’m slowing down and there is nothing I can do about it - this is not the final 15 mins of power I was planning just a few laps earlier. Instead I feel myself completely shutting down, I’m starting to get sleepy even though I’m still running and I’m suddenly worried that I may not even make to the end of the race on my feet. Sarah is worried too, she can see it in my face and by the way I’m struggling to actually talk to her. It’s gone and there is nothing I can do to get it back, my splits fall away and with it any chance of hitting my 100 mile target. I don’t even care right now to be honest. i’m just doing my best to keep running. I get given a marker to mark where I finish when the 12 hours is up, and when the hooter blows I’m vaguely aware of placing it down on the floor before carrying on, another few laps with my head closing down on me and then I’m done, finally done, 100 miles in 12 hours, 4 minutes and a handful of seconds. 

My legs nearly collapse on me but Sarah and one of the Centurion crew grab me and help me over to James’ van where Ed, a paramedic gives me a quick check over. I’m fine, although I feel very spaced out and my legs are completely refusing to support my own body weight. It really is amazing how one second you can be running and then next totally unable to walk. Then we head over to the announcers box, up some stairs that I can barely get up even with two people supporting me and I find a chair to slump into to await the prize-giving.

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***

In the end, I ran 99.6 miles (160.2km) in 12 hours, and crawled my way to 12:04 for 100 miles. I took just over an hour off my 100 mile PB, I broke the course record by 9.6 miles and my 100 mile time apparently puts me in 4th place on the all-time GB list. I should be very pleased, and indeed in many ways I am. I’m pretty sure that there is no way I could have extracted anything more from myself in those final few hours, but missing my target by 0.4 miles is also incredibly painful, and in the days since the event I keep finding myself wondering about where I could have made up that distance. Why I couldn’t have found it on the day? Do I just lack that extra 0.4% of grit, determination and guts needed to really push through when the going gets tough? Or was I truly up against my hard physical limit on the day? It’s so hard to know. Maybe if it was less windy, maybe if I hadn’t had the virus before the race, maybe if my watch hadn’t lost it’s GPS signal, maybe if I hadn’t felt so sick at the start, maybe maybe maybe…

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter. Every race throws something different at you and you can only play the cards that you get dealt. I certainly didn’t have a bad hand, the weather was beautiful and sunny and all things considered it was a great day to try and hit an ambitious target. I had a fantastic day, I ran a 100 mile time that I would have not have believed even remotely possible for me a year ago, and in doing so I’ve learnt a lot about how much further you can push your body and mind than you would ever, ever believe.

But… it does mean that I’m going to have to go back to the track and try again some time. I wasn’t planning on another track race necessarily, but to miss out on a target by such a fine margin demands a second bite at the cherry. I’m both scared and excited just thinking about it. But first I need to get my mind and body back into working order for GUCR in just five weeks time, a race I’m really looking forward to, and hopefully 145 miles of canal will make a nice change from endless loops of a track!

[Photo credits Dan, Sarah and Eddie - thanks!]

In search of an uncomfortable 2015

When I was originally thinking about what I’d like my 2015 season to look like, the first thing that sprung to mind was all the epic mountain and trail races I’d like to do. UTMB, Tor de Geants, Western States, far too many to name. Like most ultra runners I’ve got a bucket list of races at the back of my mind that I’d love to do and for me personally most of them involve mountains, rugged trails and beautiful scenery. Who doesn’t want more of that?

So… my first two ‘A’ races of 2015 will be: 1) running 12 hours around a 400m running track in Crawley in April, and then 2) a little 145 mile jaunt along the Grand Union Canal from Birmingham to London in May. Oh and I also seem to have volunteered myself to run 80km on a treadmill (in the name of science) next Sunday. Wait, what?

Ok, so admittedly not what I first had in mind when I was thinking of all the adventures I’d get up to in 2015. But when I thought more about what I wanted from the year, I realised that most of all I wanted to experiment a bit, find out what suits me and what doesn’t, and generally poke around a bit at the edges of my comfort zone. I know without doubt that I love running a long way on trails and in the mountains, and I’m starting to get an idea of my competitiveness at distances up to 100 miles. But am I any good at running round in circles on a track for a long time? Will I be proportionally slower or faster at distances over 100 miles? And can I honestly run 80km on a treadmill without wanting to shoot myself in the face after about five hours? I’ve no idea, but I’ve decided that I’m going to dedicate a bit of time this year to finding out. If it turns out I hate running round a track or really long races, then at least I know and I can go back to the trails knowing that I’ve at least given it a shot.

Then in July, to make up for all the trails that I won’t have run, Sarah and I are going to do the Lakeland 100 as a mixed pair, which should make a nice change from all that flat running I’ll have done. We are very unlikely to have recce’d much (or any!) of the course come race day so we’re treating it as a fun adventure out in the hills together rather than a race as such.

And after that… not quite sure yet. The Tooting Bec 24hr race has piqued my interest but I think I’ll see how I get on for 12 hours first before committing to even more time going round in circles on a track. I’d also love to run the Spartathalon sometime (and I think that would fall pretty neatly into anyone’s definition of 'uncomfortable’) but cost- and time-wise I don’t think it’s practical for this year. So I’ll see how the start of the year goes (and how I recover from GUCR and the Lakeland 100) and then if all is well find something - probably a 100 miler or so - to enter later on in the season.

I’m definitely getting itchy feet after not having raced since last August so I’m really looking forward to getting the season’s racing underway. Unfortunately a persistent hamstring problem has meant that I haven’t been able to do any proper speed work since well before Christmas, but on the flip side it’s meant fitting in many more aerobic base miles which is probably no bad thing for the races I’ve got in the calendar. I’m looking forward to seeing how things pan out for sure. 

Ultimate Direction Fastpack 20 - review

I’ve always had a bit of a bee in my bonnet about 20L packs. Before I had ever even heard of ultra running I somehow managed to get round a couple of Mountain Marathons carrying a classic 20(ish) litre OMM pack, and for the last few years all of my run commuting has been done first with a Terra Nova Laser 20, then a Haglofs Gram Comp 25 and more recently with a Montane Ultra Tour 22. Sarah and I also both had a Montane 22 on our backs when we did the UTMB route over five days this summer.

Whilst I’ve liked different things about all these bags, I’ve stumbled into some pretty significant shortcomings with all of them over the time that I’ve used them. Mostly comfort and fit-related (especially on multi-day trips), but also plenty of other little gripes like the lack of pockets/storage options on a lot of the bags.

So when I first heard about the Ultimate Direction Fastpack 20 my ears certainly pricked up. It seemed like both comfort and plenty of storage were high on UD’s priority list when designing the bag and when I got the chance to give the bag a proper test/review I jumped at it.

I’ve had about three weeks to test the pack now, and although I’ve not had the opportunity to take it out on any really long or multi-day trips I’ve been using it as my commute bag since I got it, and have taken it on a couple of longish (and in some cases rather wet!) runs too. And right now I have to say that - whilst it’s not 100% perfect - I can’t imagine going back to any of my previous bags. The fit, pockets and general care and attention that have gone into the construction of the bag mean that for me it is definitely a cut above all the other ‘classic’ design 20l bags that I’ve tried in the past. 

For those of you who like geeking out on the details, I’ve gathered a few pros and cons about some of what I see as the main selling points of the bag.

Vest-style fit

The most noticeable differentiation point between this bag and the others in it’s class is the racing-vest style fit. Like pretty much every other ultra runner I’m a total convert to this style of pack, and it makes complete sense to me to see it moving out to the larger sizes of packs too. It’s considerably more comfortable and also gives you much more options when it comes to up-front storage (but more on that later!).

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When doing the 5-day UTMB tour last summer Sarah and I both ended up with very sore, bruised collarbones from the narrow, unpadded straps of the Montane Ultra Tour bouncing up and down across our shoulders. The Fastpack’s straps are broader but more importantly the multiple adjustment points offered by a vest-style system means that you can really get a good fit to your body, making it feel a lot more solid and snug. There are two straps across the chest, both of which can slide up and down as needed and one pull-down strap at the bottom of each 'half’ of the vest that allows you to clamp everything down across your body. The plastic clips used on the chest straps (and for the roll-top compartment closure) seem a little on the flimsy side, but have caused me no problems so I guess I can’t complain.

Another nice touch related to the vest fit is what Ultimate Direction call their ’InfiKnit’ construction - this basically means the fabric on the inside of the straps wraps seamlessly round to merge with the part of the pack that sits against your back. As seams are the enemy of every longer-distance runner this is a little touch that has the potential to be a massive bonus if you are wearing the pack for a long time and have had issues with strap chaffing before.

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When wearing the pack it seems to sit higher up on my back than most of the packs I’m used to, but this is no bad thing as it keeps it from rubbing on my lower back and doesn’t feel off-balance at all. I’ve not tested it with a lot of heavy gear in it but when full or half-full of lighter stuff it had very little bounce which is great. 

My only slight concern about the vest-fit is the sizing - I’m not exactly a big guy and despite having the pack in the smaller of the two available sizes (S/M and M/L) the pack was only just able to cinch down tight enough when there wasn’t much gear in it. I can imagine that if you are very slight you may find that it’s hard to get it tight enough on you if you are running with a half empty pack. However for the other 98% of the population there is no doubt in my mind that this is a far superior system to the conventional shoulder straps/waist belt/chest strap combination.

Storage galore

All my previous bags of this size have had one big main pocket, two side 'bottle’ pockets and - if I was lucky - a couple of little pockets on the 'belt’ part of the strap system. Thankfully the Fastpack (partly as a side effect of having a vest-style fit) improves on this situation, offering a bunch of varied pockets which can be co-opted for various uses. The pack has the following storage options:

  • Large (15-22L), roll-top main compartment - Nice and roomy and and water-resistant - despite getting quite wet on a run once or twice the contents of this seem to have stayed dry so far. The roll-top closure is pretty standard on bags of this size but the clever z-style cinch straps on the side do a good job of both compressing down the contents and also squashing it all front-to-back. My only slight complaint about the roll-top (and which is a nice, subtle feature of y Montane Ultra Tour pack) is that the clips on either side of the roll-top are both ’female’ clips and not one male, one female as they are on the Montane. With one of each on either side it means that if you have really overfilled your pack you can clip them to each other rather than being forced to try and clip them down to the side straps. A minor gripe however!
  • Back outer stretchy mesh pocket - useful for wedging in a jacket or any clothing that you need quick access to and don’t want to put in the roll-top main compartment. Can fit quite a bit in here but is obviously exposed to the elements.
  • Stretchy mesh side pockets - easy enough to get to and big enough to hold extra items of clothing or bigger bottles etc, these are pretty handy but with no drawstring closure system or similar you need to be a little careful with what you put in here if you bend over with the pack on!
  • Waterproof zip pocket with key strap - this is tucked away on the side of the bag and is pretty easy to miss if you don’t know it’s there. However it’s one of my favourite little touches on this bag and is something I’ve wished all my other previous bags have had. Perfect for keeping a wallet and keys safe and dry and out of harms way.
  • Expandable front pocket (top righthand side of vest front) - this is a kind of weird hybrid pocket with a vertical zip that you can open to expand the volume to fit a bottle into. With no way to close up the top of this I’ve not really found a use for it so far (although you can probably fit a good few gels/bars in it if you want) as I’m worried about stuff falling out if I bend over. Definitely good to have an option for front-bottle holding though and I may find it more useful once I get out on some longer runs with it.
  • Drawstring front pocket (top lefthand side of vest front) - this is a pretty large, stretch-mesh pocket which is big enough to hold a 500ml or so bottle but also great for phone or food etc as the elastic drawstring means you can close the top right up.
  • Little velcro pocket (bottom righthand side of vest front) - small, velcro-closure, not much else to say!
  • Little zip pocket (bottom lefthand side of vest front) - as above but with a zip closure which I have a lot more faith in than velcro!

So all-in-all lots of great options that offer plenty of flexibility - it happily copes with all my commute junk as well as (I’m sure) all the little bits of gear and food you’d need to bring on a proper multi-day trip.

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Other features

The pack is intended to cope with a proper bit of adventuring (as opposed to my tame wanders over the local hills and my commute to work) and as such is well equipped with little details like a daisy-chain cord running down either side of the back of the pack and trekking pole (or ice-axe) attachment points. I’ve not had any use of these so far but they seem well thought-out and robust.

The back of the pack features a removable, stiff back-pad. When in place I found this added a lot to the comfort and gave a nice feeling of 'structured-ness’ to the bag which I’ve not had in my previous packs and which I liked a lot. There is also an inner water-bladder sleeve at the back with a velcro attachment point and a hole to feed a drinking hose through if that is your hydration preference - although like all bags that have this without any external access to the bladder it’s not going to be easy to refill it if you have a bag full of stuff without a lot of fiddling around and (likely) unpacking. 

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In summary…

As touched on above, the fit and storage options of the pack make it - for me - a clear winner over other similar sized packs that I’ve tried.  It’s comfortable, lightweight and has loads of flexibility when it comes to stashing all those little bits that you don’t want to wedge into the main compartment. It makes a great commute bag and whilst it doesn’t have a 'bulletproof’ feeling I’m sure it would have no problem standing up to some long tough days on the trails. Hopefully I’ll get some of those in soon and can update this review to confirm!

The Ultimate Direction Fastpack 20 is available now from the Ultramarathon Running Store.

Joining the Centurion Ultra Team

It’s been a bit of a whirlwind year this year so far.

Last year, my first of racing ultras, started with a bang with a win in my first ever race, the SDW50. However it seemed to go a little bit downhill from there, and ended up finishing with a thoroughly unspectacular and unenjoyable slog around the Beachy Head marathon.

This year… well it has been quite different. After a slow start at the Thames Trot in February it has just kept on getting better, culminating with me achieving times that I would never have even dreamed about over the 100 mile distance, surprising myself as much as anyone along the way.

And although my nemesis, Beachy Head, is still ahead of me, this year has already had the proverbial icing added to it after being asked to join the top-notch band of ultra runners that is the Centurion Running Ultra Team. Of course I have accepted - although when Centurion head-honcho James first asked me I was both incredibly flattered and at the same time slightly scared - so far every race I’ve run with a Centurion team member entered in it has resulted in me being squarely beaten by them, and being part of a team of such obviously talented and hard working runners is not something I would have ever even considered within the realm of possibility even just a few months ago.

However, this is an opportunity I intend to grasp with both hands and whilst I am still a little humbled by the quality of the runners (and the depth of their combined experience) that I suddenly find myself sharing a team with I certainly intend to do my best to do the famous yellow t-shirt proud. Without doubt it has given me some major motivation to get out there and smash myself in training and hopefully make 2015 an even better year (if possible!) than this one.

And maybe, if I’m really lucky, I’ll even have a bit of a better day out at Beachy Head before the year is out too…

Berlin 100 - race report

Despite having read a couple of lukewarm reports from the 2013 edition of the Berlin 100 ‘Mauerweglauf’ I had signed up to this race quite early on in the year for a couple of reasons. Firstly, Sarah’s parents live in Berlin and in the summer she normally takes the kids over there for a month or so to see them; as this coincided with when the race was to take place we thought it would make a nice trip to go over there, run the race and then take a week off relaxing with the whole family in the suburbs of Berlin. Secondly, one of my main aims for 2014 had been to run a sub-16 hour 100 miler, and having decided not to run the Thames Path 100 earlier in the year this had seemed to be a good fallback option, thanks to it being predominantly flat with a mix of tarmac and easy dirt trail underfoot. As it turned out I achieved my goal of sub-16 earlier than planned at the SDW100 where I surprised myself by running 14:03 - so Berlin became suddenly more about trying to shave off those pesky 3 minutes to get a 100 mile PB that started with a 13!

The complaints that I had read about the race largely centered around the fact that the long pre-race briefing starts at 7pm the evening before the race, and that when you finish you are not given your medal (and buckle, if you go sub-24); instead there is an award ceremony on Sunday at 2pm, a couple of hours after the race cutoff time, when everyone is called up individually to receive their hard-earned silverware. Neither of these are particularly a problem if you are a resident in Berlin or are staying at the 'official’ race hotel, but for those looking to do a quick weekend trip to run the race the timing of these could make things difficult. However I had plenty of time scheduled around the race (and had managed to get a pretty cheap Airbnb apartment close to the start/race briefing) so these issues didn’t concern me too much.

The race itself was set up in memory of all the people who died trying to escape from East Berlin into West Berlin during the time when the city was carved in two by the infamous Berlin Wall. The route follows what is now known as the 'Mauerweg’ - the path that the wall used to trace through the center of Berlin and then all around the western perimeter of the city. And the historical aspect of this race is not just there to be used as a selling point for the race organisers - they really are passionate about it and each edition of the race is dedicated to another person who died trying to cross the border. The historical and cultural side of this event did really make it feel quite different from the races which I had done before, and the organisers’ passion for it definitely shone through, I thought.

So, on to the race itself. The rough plan was to set off at about 4:45min/km pace, providing that felt comfortable on the day, and then slow down as little as possible, aiming for no slower than about 5:15min/km towards the end. By my rough guesstimate (and taking quick aid station stops into account) this would get me in just under 14 hours, my primary aim for the day. However I was very conscious of the fact that I had a really great day in the SDW100, and I was not at all sure that I would ever be able to run anything like that time again! So I promised myself that I would ignore the other people in the race, try to go on feel and just see how things shook out later on in the day.

I knew that a very fast Japanese runner, Tsutomu Nagata, had been invited over to run the race, and with a 6:44 100km PB he was definitely the pre-race favourite. However, I knew he had blown up in his first 100 mile race earlier in the year after setting off at a crazy pace, which gave me hope - 100 miles is very different from 100km and it’s not necessarily the fastest person on paper who will win, there are a lot of things that have to go right on the day and so much of it is about how you manage yourself both effort and nutrition-wise over the course of the whole race. I felt like (more by luck than by judgement!) I got the 'self-management’ bit pretty spot on at SDW100 and I was determined to look after myself as best I could from the start, as I knew that would be the only way I could contend with Tsutomu. The previous winner and course record holder Peter Flock was also running and I was sure that there would be a few other speedy people in the lineup, so it was not going to be a day for taking it easy!

At 6am on the dot the race started and I went off with Tsutomu and another German chap (whose name I have forgotten!), with a couple of Italians running close behind us. The first 10km or so of the race are right through the center of Berlin and we had all been warned repeatedly that crossing a road at a pedestrian red light would result in instant disqualification. There was a cyclist who was to ride at the front of the race for the whole day so flaunting this rule was not really an option if you were up at the sharp end! My little daughters were extremely concerned about this (possibly due to my general indifference to traffic lights when walking around Brighton) and made me promise them repeatedly that I wouldn’t break the rule and get disqualified. This made the first part of the race a bit stop-start, I was mostly running in third place and kept catching up with the lead two runners at lights which was fine by me, but when I got caught at a frustratingly slow light that they had made it through I suddenly found myself out of visual contact with them. Initially I was concerned because the presence of the bike meant that it was impossible for the leaders to get lost, and without him I would have to be responsible for staying on the correct path myself. However the course markings, which had been laboriously explained and documented in the pre-race briefing were actually really excellent and I didn’t have to worry at all. So I just settled into running at a pace that felt comfortable, just ahead of the two Italian runners, and chugged along towards the outskirts of the city. A nice touch was that the course was routed right through the middle of an exhibition centre all about the Berlin Wall - slightly surreal running though it during a race but underlined the commitment of the organisers to make this more than just a race.

The next 70km or so passed pretty uneventfully, I generally didn’t stop at the plethora of aid stations (there was one pretty much every 6-7km or so!) as I was meeting Sarah about every 20km for water bottle refills and food top-ups, and at some point I caught up and gradually overtook the then-second placed runner. I went through the marathon mark in about 3:14 and noticed that my pace was a bit quicker than I had planned, but I was feeling good and didn’t feel like I was pushing myself too hard. I was quite a bit up on my projected times at about 60km and I think that Sarah was a little worried that I might blow up later, but everything felt in control and I was eating and drinking well so I wasn’t too worried. Tsutomu had set off at sub-12 hour pace and had a gap of more than 10 minutes on me at one point, but by about 65km that gap had shrunk to about 3 minutes. I wasn’t speeding up so he must have been slowing down which was definitely an good motivator to try and keep my pace solid as I ran through the leafy woods around the south of Berlin.

After trailing behind him for a few kilometers I decided to make my move as we came into an aid station, dashing in and out just to register my timing chip but not picking up any food or water. In By this point we had caused a bit of a scramble to get the aid stations open in time as we were running significantly under the course record splits. Sarah had spoken to the organiser on the phone who had told her that because of the traffic lights he didn’t think anyone would run under 15 hours on the course, something that I was skeptical about when there is a 6:44 100km runner in the house! But all credit to the organisers because as the race went on they managed to get everything open and set up in plenty of time for us to come through.

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I noticed that Tsutomu was looking ropey and asked him if he was ok, to which I got a pretty vigorous shake of the head in reply. He was suffering from stomach problems which would only get worse over the next section of the race, and after about 10 minutes where he was running close behind me for a little bit I noticed that he had dropped away from me and I was now clear away at the front of the race. I found out later that Tsutomu had rallied a couple of times and had put in a couple of quick sections behind me, but each time had been stopped short by his stomach problems again. Fair play to him for still finishing however - no-one would have thought any the less of him for dropping, especially when his stated goal was to win the race, but he battled through to the end which I respect a lot.

I met my extended crew of my daughters and Sarah’s parents for the first time at just after 90km, took a quick pit-stop and a second to find out about the position of any other runners close behind me and ran out of the aid station feeling pretty good. I’d set a new 50 mile PB of 6:10 but still felt in control and wasn’t hurting too much yet. However, within in about 5 mins of leaving the aid station I suddenly started feeling sick and felt myself slip into a really big mental dip, much worse than anything I had had at the SDW100. I couldn’t get anything into my stomach over the next 10km or so and lots of dark thoughts about having gone out too hard after all started going through my mind. However I knew that I had pushed through an even lower point in the NDW100 last year and so I did my best to keep my pace up and just trust that I’d eventually get through it. Slowly the nausea began to back off and although I couldn’t face eating anything I wasn’t feeling sick anymore, and by the time I got to my next crew meet location I was definitely on the up again. With solid food off the cards I turned to the ultrarunner’s best friend, Coke, and resigned myself to doing the last 60km of the race on a strictly liquid diet.

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By the time I got the aid station at 38km to go, where Sarah was going to be pacing me from, I was definitely feeling much better and was really looking forward to running with her. I was about half an hour up on the Italian runner (Marco Bonfliglio) who was now running in second place, and I knew I was making time on him not losing it… so barring any massive blow up or injury I knew that the win was pretty certain. I had been aware for a little while that a sub-13 hour time was potentially on the cards, but I also knew that my pace was slowing and I was very wary of pushing too hard at this point, especially as I knew my stomach was not in a particularly strong place.

The aforementioned cyclist who rode ahead of the first runner was a really nice touch by the organisers and was a great help, allowing me to pretty much totally switch off and just concentrate on moving efficiently. He didn’t speak much English and my German is pretty ropey but I got quite attached to him by the end! So Sarah and I just followed his lead, stopping occasionally at red lights (which made it very hard to get going again) but generally just focussing on getting the job done. By the time we got to about 10km to go I knew that sub-13 was not going to happen, I just didn’t have enough in my legs but I was pretty sure we’d make it in under 13:10 which was still way ahead of anything I’d been expecting.

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The last bit is really all a bit of a blur, but we seemed to pop out in the center of Berlin quite suddenly, and after an very painful last 2km I suddenly found myself on the running track at the stadium for the final loop round and over the finish line. I ended up with a time of 13:06:52, which was about 2 hours 45 mins off the old course record and nearly an hour under my 100 mile PB that I set at the SDW100 just two months earlier. It was all a bit hard to take in to be honest but it was great to have Sadie and Josie, Sarah and her parents there at the finish line to share it with me. And thanks to the live video feed from the stadium (another nice touch) my parents were actually able to watch me finish in real time from back in the UK, which is really quite cool.

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The trip to the award ceremony the next day was a slow one, and whilst the ceremony itself was pretty long (and held in a very warm room) I did really appreciate the spirit in which it was undertaken. Every runner got their time read out, clapped up on stage and picked up their medal (and for some, their buckle) and it was really nice that it was not just about the runners at the sharp end of the race. I was totally humbled by everyone’s reaction when I went up to collect my trophy and other bits and pieces - to be honest I didn’t really know how to respond so I did the only thing I could think of and I just stood there on stage grinning like an idiot.

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One hundred miles of flat, predominantly tarmac path is defintely not the type of race I’d choose to race too often. However I’m obviously very pleased with the time I ran and I really thought that the whole event had a good vibe and was very well organised. So if you are looking for a relatively easy 100 miler with a bit of history surrounding it (and if you don’t mind the traffic lights!) I’d definitely recommend this as one to consider.

Summary video of the race on Haupstadsport.tv

GPS route and splits on Strava

A visit to Profeet

Last Tuesday I went on a visit to Profeet, a specialist sports footwear and orthotics shop in Fulham, London. I’d been aware of Profeet for some time, as if you ever mention any shoe or foot pain-related gripe on Twitter at least a couple of people will instantly pipe up and tell you to go and see them. It’s pretty safe to say that they have a very loyal customer base which I think is always a very good sign!

I was making the trip up from Brighton for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I needed a pair of shoes for my next race, the Berlin 100, a very flat race featuring a mix of road and trail underfoot. I loved running in my Nike Terra Kigers during the SDW100 but they are quite minimal and my feet have been fairly sore since, so I wanted something a bit more substantial for this next race. And secondly, Richard (who many will know by his Twitter handle @ukrunrambles) who is the run manager at Profeet had recently asked if I might be interested in becoming an Ambassador for them, so I wanted to go over there and check out exactly what they do.

As many people will know, Profeet is not your standard in-and-out running shoe shop. They specialise in proper biomechanical gait analysis, foot examinations and finding the right shoe to fit your personal needs, and will even create custom moulded insoles for you if needed to ensure the best possible fit.

When I got there and after a bit of a chat about my past history of foot-related problems I was given a full foot examination (felt a bit bad for the chap as my feet are still not in a great state post-SDW100 but he didn’t seem to mind!) and then we jumped on the treadmill for a bit of gait analysis.

Going through the slow-mo video of me running was pretty interesting I have to say - my right foot is prone to collapsing inwards and watching it happen on the video and being able to deconstruct the full movement was really quite cool. After spending all last year basically just running and not doing anything else I’ve tried this year to have a bit more of a focus on identifying weaknesses around my body (flimsy glutes, for instance) and working to improve them in them in a structured way. So to get a deeper insight into my stride mechanics together with some recommendations for exercises that will help to improve it was great.

We also then did a pressure-mat analysis of how my feet actually land on the ground and looked at how all that tied in with the things we’d seen in the gait analysis videos.

And then I finally got to trying on some shoes! After trying on a fair few pairs and jumping on and off the treadmill I decided on some Brooks - not a brand I’ve tried before but they felt nice and roomy and I’m definitely looking forward to giving them a proper test out on the trails before Berlin.

All in all a great visit, and having been thoroughly impressed with the service there I’m excited and honoured to be acting as an Ambassador for them going forwards. I guess now I just need to actually do my homework and sort out the crookedness in my stride…

South Downs Way 100 2014

Two years ago, Sarah and I decided to finally do something we had been talking about for ages and run from our house in Brighton to my parent’s house in Westbourne (near Chichester) via the South Downs Way. Prior to the actual running of it we did a few recce’s of bits of the route, and one of these we decided to do on the same day of a crazy race we’d heard about, the Centurion Running SDW100.

The run to my parent’s house was to be our first-ever foray into running ultra distances. We’d run a reasonable amount (albeit sporadically) over the years, but nothing beyond 26.2 miles. The thought of covering 45 miles to my parent’s house seemed utterly daunting at that point - we had to buy three OS maps to just cover the whole route! - and so the thought that there was a race going on covering over twice that distance just seemed insane.

On the day of our recce we ran westwards, hoping to still be on the Downs when the race leaders came past so we could see how people looked about halfway into a 100 mile race. And sure enough, on the top of the Downs between Washington and Amberley we crossed paths with the race leader who I later found out to be Ryan Brown. He looked unreasonably fresh for someone who had just run 50 miles or so, more than double the distance we were aiming to cover on our recce. We soon came across more runners (one of which I later found out must have been Sam Robson although all these now familiar ultra names and faces were unknown to us then!) before we dropped down to Amberley from where we were getting the train home.

Since that day I’ve very badly wanted to run the whole length of the beautiful South Downs Way national trail. And so it’s impossible to overstate how surreal it felt when last Saturday, two years after that recce, I ran past the point where we had passed Ryan - and this time I was leading the 2014 edition of the very same race.

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Prior to race day I had felt incredibly calm about running what would be my second 100 mile event. My run at the North Downs Way 100 last year had not quite gone to plan, with early GI distress causing 70 miles of vomiting and dehydration, but I felt like I’d learnt a lot from that race and had a plan in place to hopefully make sure that I wasn’t going to repeat the experience this time round. I also know at least the second 50 miles of the SDW like the back of my hand - I train on it every week, have run the SDW50 twice and I could probably do every step of it blindfolded. So I felt very relaxed about the whole event, even after Centurion Race Director James tried to throw a spanner in my zen by naming me as his tip for the win in his customary pre-race preview.

My parents and Sarah were going to be crewing me on the day, and I’d spent a long time planning the whole race beforehand (for those who are interested in that sort of thing you can have a look at my race plan spreadsheet here) so that they would know where and roughly when to meet me. Putting together the plan, figuring out where my crew should be, estimating aid station arrival times (calculated using a logarithmic decay in pace, fancy but probably totally useless) and so on really helped me get my mind into the race before it began. However I didn’t intend to actually try and hit any of my aid station splits - my plan was simply to set off at just under 5min/km pace, try and keep that up as best as possible over the faster (I believe) first 50 miles of the course, and then just try to slow down as little as possible over the last, hillier 50 miles.

I knew that there was going to be some tough, speedy people doing the race and I swore to myself that whatever happened I was going to ignore everyone at the start and just run my own race - something I’ve not been too good at doing in the past. So at 6:00am Saturday morning when the hooter went off to start the race and Stuart Mills went absolutely flying off into the distance I didn’t let it bother me and just concentrated on sticking to my plan, knocking out some comfortable miles and hoping that he’d come back to me later on in the race.

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[All race pics courtesy of Pete Aylward unless noted otherwise]

Right from the start, my legs felt good. I knew I was fit for the race after having an unexpectedly good day at the Three Forts Challenge in May but I’d been having a few knee issues and in fact had taken the week before the race off running entirely in a last ditch attempt to resolve the problem. I’d strapped it up with tape the day before and it didn’t seem to be giving me any bother in the first few miles so I put it out of my mind and just concentrated on enjoying running in the beautiful scenery. I was so happy to finally be running the route and the miles just seemed to be sliding by quite effortlessly. The only slight issue I had in the early section of the race was that for some reason (perhaps because my feet got quite wet in the puddles from the previous night’s thunderstorm) the insoles in my Nike Terra Kigers kept on working their way up and out of the back of the shoe by my achilles. I stopped to take my shoes off and put them back in once but the second time I just pulled them out and ran with them in my hand until I could give them to Sarah at the next aid station.

Stuart had 10 minutes on me already at the first checkpoint, but I really didn’t care - I’d promised myself that I was not going to even think about ‘racing’ until at least the last 30 miles and so put out all thoughts of who was in front and behind me and just concentrated on myself, focusing on running the best I could at each particular moment and ignoring everything else. Previously in races I’ve been prone to stressing myself with thoughts of who is around me but I’m slowly coming to realise that this is just totally counterproductive - you can only run as well as you can and if you are doing that then there is no point tying yourself in knots worrying about other people. In the SDW50 this year I saw Rick Ashton coming up the climb out of Alfriston behind me, panicked a bit and pushed too hard up the hill which led to me cramping up massively and effectively putting myself on a platter for him to come cruising past me. This was to be a long race and any sort of behaviour like that would make it even longer for me, so instead I just concentrated on pushing when I felt good and backing off when I didn’t, and generally just keeping things simple.

Now I did a lot of puking at the NDW100 2013, and my theory was that this was because of three things: Minor early dehydration (due to me stubbornly refusing to fill up the bladder in my pack at the first few aid stations to 'save time’), trying to eat mostly gels as opposed to 'real’ food and eating citrus fruit (and orange) from my crew - the straw that broke the camel’s back I think. So for this race I decided to run with bottles in an Inov-8 race vest so I could quickly refill them and keep an eye on water levels; eat real food (using a couple of recipes from the excellent Feedzone Portables book) and bars with no gels unless I really needed one and no coke/sugary drinks until halfway or later; and not touch any citrus fruits!

As it turned out this strategy seemed to work perfectly for me, my stomach felt rock-solid all day and I didn’t experience any of the seesawing energy levels that you get when slamming gels or other very high-sugar products into your system. It was really a huge relief to realise that I wasn’t going to spend every single 100 mile race throwing up into the bushes - something which I was genuinely afraid of after my experience last year.

With my stomach holding together nicely I was just quietly working through the miles when just before the Cocking aid station I spotted a runner in the distance. Squinting a bit I thought it looked like Stuart which gave me a bit of a shock as I’d not expected to be catching him up for some time yet, if ever! At the pace I was running at I realised that I’d soon be coming past him which was not actually a thought that I relished - on a good day Stuart can beat absolutely anyone on the Downs (and has done many times), and the thought of him behind me, potentially hunting me down later on was not one I enjoyed. But I was still moving at a comfortable pace and so it was just something I thought I’d have to deal with later. Pulling up alongside him I think I gave him a bit of a shock, but we ran down into the Cocking aid station together a mile or so further on. At Cocking my crew quickly sorted me out with full water bottles and some food (despite me taking them bit by surprise too!) and I managed to get back onto the trail before Stuart did. I tried to capitalise on this slight advantage by chugging as quickly as I could up the hill out of the CP, hoping to put at least a little clear air between myself and him.

From then on I just got my head down and kept on doing what I had been doing: always running 'within’ myself, eating and drinking as much as I could without pushing my stomach too far and generally trying to enjoy having the special opportunity to cover so much distance on such an iconic national trail. 

I went through the 50 mile mark at about 6hrs 40mins or thereabouts, and when I stopped to quickly swap bottles and pick up food from my crew at Washington I remarked that I didn’t know if that was incredibly encouraging or if it meant I would totally blow up later on in the race! But I still felt good and left the aid station with my friend James Box’s words “it’s your manor now mate” echoing in my ears. I knew that getting onto home turf would be a great mental boost for me and so it proved to be, letting me concentrate on myself and not worry at all about navigation or what hill was round the next corner. I also knew that I was going to pick up Sarah as my pacer just before Clayton Windmills and that was something I was really looking forward to as well. Despite the poor state I was in at the end of the NDW100 I really enjoyed her company then and was looking forward to spending a little time with her, especially as I was in much better shape this time round!

Obviously when you are out in the lead your thoughts occasionally turn to winning the race, thinking about the finish and so on. But every time this happened I gave myself a stern talking to (often out loud!), telling myself that unless I concentrated on the here and the now there would be no win. At the Three Forts Challenge just a few weeks earlier I let my mind wander to the win and stopped concentrating on the trail, with the result that I ended up seriously stacking it on a fast chalky/flinty downhill, smashing myself up and then had to basically just watch (the then-second placed runner) Robin as he cruised past me and took the win. I didn’t want a repeat of that so gave myself a mental slapping every time I stopped thinking about only what I was doing at that particular moment.

I picked up Sarah at Pyecombe Golf Club, said goodbye to the kids who were going back home with my Mum and together we pressed on to the Jack and Jill windmills and then onwards again towards Housedean Farm and Southease. I was genuinely amazed to find that my legs still seemed to have plenty of running in them going up the hills, and although I had little dips in how good I was feeling (only natural after 70-odd miles I guess) for the most part I was very mentally steady, which was very exciting and I’m sure fed back into how I was feeling, creating a good positive feedback loop in my head.

On getting to Southease we found out from my Dad that the second placed runner behind us was now Richard La Cock, and he left the last aid station about 50 minutes after us. I knew that it was about 27km from Southease to the finish, and that provided I didn’t majorly crash and burn I could afford to just relax and enjoy the last section running with Sarah. So we pushed on up the climb out of Southease, not stressing and just trying to keep everything as comfortable as is possible after 11 and a bit hours of running. By the time we got to Alfriston a few rather large blisters on my feet had burst and were starting to give me some grief, my quads had also decided to make their complaints known but I knew there was only a couple of climbs left before the beautiful sight of the trig point after Jevington that signals that it’s just a few miles to the finish. When we got there we took it very easy down the 'chute’ that leads from the SDW to the road - this was another place that I’d gone over face first at the end of the SDW50 2012 and I didn’t want to repeat that either - but soon we were down on the roads of Eastbourne and into the final section.

At this point Sarah and I were both having a bit of tough time figuring out what time I’d be finishing in. We initially (correctly) thought that it was looking to be around the 14 hour mark, but this was so far beyond my comprehension that I was sure our maths was wrong. We had swapped watches when the battery on the one I was using had run out, and I was convinced that the time on the other one must have been an hour out, as I’ve been abroad in Copenhagen for a fair bit recently and so I thought it must still be running on Danish time. Which would make the finish time 15 hours, something that sounded much more likely to me.

I pushed on through Eastbourne as fast as my now-cramping legs would take me, and soon arrived at that most beautiful of sights, the athletics track that means you only have 400m left to run. A quick high-five to Drew Sheffield on the way round and suddenly it was all over. The first thing I asked RD James was whether my time was 14 or 15 hours and was totally blown away to realise that we had actually been right all along. What I considered my stretch 'A’ goal for the race was 15:30 so to have come through the finish in 14:03:54 (around 1hr 40mins off of the old course record) was just unbelievable to me.

Sometimes everything just comes together, sometimes you just get those special days where nothing goes wrong, your body treats you like you are actually in charge of it for a change and you manage to extract out of yourself far more than you ever thought possible. I’ve no idea whether I can ever or will ever run that sort of time over a 100 miles again but to be honest I don’t really care - it really was such a fantastic day and I’m just fortunate to have had it all come good for me on the day of the race I most wanted to run and win.

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My crew of my parents, kids and Sarah were awesome and I’m very lucky to have had them there helping me out. And the Centurion team and volunteers were once again flawless, even when they had to open aid stations early as I was running a bit ahead of schedule. Many thanks to you all!

I’ll finish with a quick mention of Richard La Cock who ran an awesome 15:11 for second place (also smashing the old course record in the process) and the legendary Dave Ross, who just two weeks after running a crazy fast time Comrades also dipped under the 16hr mark for third place. Dave is also apparently running the Picnic Marathon this weekend… the man is a machine, serious respect due.

View the Strava GPS route and splits of the race here

National 100k and the Three Forts Challenge - race reports

So the weekend of 3rd/4th May was all set to be a bit of a hectic one with Sarah running the National 100k race on Saturday and me running the Three Forts Challenge on the Sunday morning. Neither of us really had any expectations of times/positions but we both ended up having pretty good days out, and with second places in our respective races it was definitely a tired but happy Perkins household by the time bank holiday Monday rolled around.

National 100k (Saturday)

Sarah really wanted to get a race longer than 50 miles under her belt this year and after a bit of hunting around the only one that was reasonably close (and at a time that would just about fit in with our schedule of other races) was the National 100k. Very different from the usual trail races that we do, this was to be 48 laps of a 2.1km road loop at a cycling venue called Cyclopark near Gravesend. So on Friday evening we packed the kids into a hire car, drove over to Kent, picked up Sarah’s race number, ate a bit of food at a Beefeater (which lived up to its reviews of “very average but the best you can do in Gravesend”) and then located the delightful Premier Inn that we were staying in.

Sarah’s plan for the race was to start off at about 5:00 min/km pace and hold onto that for as long as she could. Having never run anywhere near this distance on the road and never more than 80km on trails she really had no idea of what to expect. She’d also not run a huge amount since the SDW50 a month before and wasn’t feeling at her sharpest. But the primary aim was just to do the distance and hopefully not fall apart too much at the end.

The Cyclopark venue turned out to be pretty cool - the 2.1km road loop enclosed a BMX track and skatepark, there was a cafe right by the course and (importantly for me as I was in charge of distracting the kids all day!) a pretty good playground too. As the race was to include the National 100km Championships as well as the yearly Anglo Celtic Plate competition there were all the English, Welsh and Scottish teams milling around in their kit, and as we over to the course carrying kids and bags and other paraphernalia Sarah remarked that she felt a little out of place here! I basically told her to put a sock in it and not to worry about all that and just to concentrate on running her own race on her own terms, which is what she does best.

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At 8am the race started and myself and the kids settled into our crewing role, punctuated with trips to the cafe for breakfast and the playground for distraction. Knowing that Sarah would be round again every 10ish minutes made timing our excursions pretty easy and the first few laps passed pretty uneventfully, with Sarah hitting her 5:00 min/km pace pretty much spot on - a trend which would continue for the rest of the day. After a couple of hours the plan was that I take the kids swimming (to stave off their boredom a bit), and when we got back at about 1pm I found that the lovely volunteers at the ‘open’ race aid table (the less swanky version of the national teams feed stations) had thoroughly taken Sarah under their wing and were providing her with great support and had generally been looking after her while we were away. Sarah was still knocking out the metronomic 5min/km pace despite having eaten only a couple of slices of melon in the previous 5 hours, and although was complaining a little of feeling slightly nauseous she was looking strong and very calm and composed.

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And that was pretty much how it went until the end of the race - she just didn’t slow down while others faded slowly around her, and with about 14km to go a lady from UK Athletics came over and asked if Sarah had a target time in mind and if she knew that the qualifying time for the GB team was 8hrs 25mins. Neither of us had any clue about that of course and so I told Sarah on her next time round, and also let her know that I thought she had moved up into 3rd or 4th place overall. Obviously this was all a very nice surprise but she didn’t let it go to her head and just kept on knocking out the steady laps.

With a few laps to go she had moved into second place and by the time her last lap came around she had closed a ~5 minute gap between her and Jen Salter, who was in first place, down to a 1:30min gap. I let her know when she came past and she started putting her foot down a bit, and in the end finished less than 30 seconds behind her - at one point she was sprinting down the last straight and I though she might catch Jen up but it was not to be. If the race was one lap longer the race would really have been on!

But finishing in 2nd place in a race that included all the national teams and running 4 minutes under the 100km qualifying time (in her first 100km race) has got to be a pretty damn good day out by anyone’s standards. Sarah’s amazing ability to just pick a pace and stick to it, never significantly slowing down, is really something quite special and I’m sure she could have even gone faster had she had any real idea of what to expect of herself. I was definitely a very proud husband at the end of the day!

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After a quick massage (for Sarah, not for me sadly) and a little ceremony to pick up her trophy we all jumped back in the car to head back to Brighton before we needed to return the hire car. A long day and pretty successfully knackered out the kids but all in all a really fun day out.

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Sarah’s race splits and GPX on Strava

Three Forts Challenge (Sunday)

So after all the excitement of Saturday it was my turn to race on Sunday morning, at the Three Forts Challenge - a pretty tough hilly 44km race that I’ve done a couple of years in a row now.

Sarah and the girls were originally going to come along but we decided that it would be all a bit much to pack the girls into the car again so I decided just to take the train there and back instead. To be honest I was feeling really quite knackered after the last couple of days and so was thinking I’d be better off just using this as a fast training run rather than a full on race; so not having my supporters at the finish wasn’t really a big deal. And I ended up bumping into the excellent Dan Skrobak on the train (who was doing the race as well) and so had someone to chat to on the way there and back anyway which was great.

I lined up at the start near the front after saying hello to Paul Sargent, (who beat me in last year’s Three Forts and with whom I’d run a bit at the start of this year’s SDW50) and a couple of minutes later we were off. The first bit is a narrow path that is the start of both the SDW50 and this race, so I know it pretty well now. Paul set off at the front and I slotted in behind him, thinking I’d get up this narrow bit and then probably drop back a bit and not push myself too hard.

But running is a funny old game. After a couple of guys went past myself and Paul on the first climb, I realised that I wasn't actually feeling that tired - I was just expecting to feel tired. But in fact my legs felt pretty sprightly, and I didn’t even think that I was really working that hard, which surprised me as we were running at quite a good pace up the first section. Paul didn’t seem too interested in pushing it to keep up with the two chaps that had come past us, so I made a snap decision to throw the 'training run’ idea out the window, move past him and try and latch onto the guys in front.

As it turned out, I’ve never before run a race where I felt so strong, calm, and in control. I overtook the two lead guys on the road section of the climb up to Truleigh Hill and just revelled in powering over the out and back section of hills between Truleigh and Devils Dyke that I know so well. I stretched the gap between myself and the chap in second place slightly while flying on the downhill back to Botolphs, and just couldn’t believe how good I felt. I’ve really never felt so in the zone in a race before, and I was loving it!

I maintained the gap of probably a minute or more over second place all the way to Chanctonbury Ring, feeling strong all the way. He seemed to be gaining on me slightly on the uphills, but I felt I was pulling away from him on the downhills, and I knew that the vast majority of the last 10km from that point on was fast, chalky downhill so I was feeling pretty confident of maintaing my position. I checked my watch and noticed that if I could run a sub 40 min last 10km I’d come in under 3 hours; around a 35min 10km would see me coming pretty close to (or even maybe under) the course record. Now a 35min 10k at the end of a 44km race sounds ridiculous, but actually on this long downhill section with only a few smallish hills I didn’t think it would be totally impossible, so I nailed a caffeine gel and set off like a bat out of hell.

About five minutes later I was still feeling strong, fast and generally in control of everything when I managed to catch my toe on a rock whilst charging downhill and went absolutely flying. I pulled a full-on superman down the steep chalky-gravel hill, tearing up my arms, hand, knees and ribs nicely in the process and knocking the wind out of me totally. I rolled over onto my back and looked at the sky, trying to assess if I’d broken anything. A very nice lady doing the half marathon asked me if I was ok; I thought about it for a couple of seconds, determined I was still alive and then told her I was fine, threw myself back onto my feet and set off again.

Well the massive adrenaline rush lasted all of about 5 seconds and then I totally crashed. Suddenly I felt like all the life had been kicked out of me, the knee that had taken the brunt of the fall stiffened up and all motivation to carry on racing just washed out of me. I’m really amazed how I could go from one extreme of feeling untouchable to feeling utterly broken in just a few seconds, and really shows how much of a mental game running and racing is.

I was pretty powerless to do anything as the chap behind me came cruising past. He very kindly offered to run with me to the finish and asked me if I wanted a gel or anything, both of which I declined - he’d never backed off as I tried to push the pace throughout the race and thoroughly deserved to run his own race into the finish. All I could do was try and gut out the last sections, cursing myself all the way for being such a clod-footed idiot.

Despite the fall I still ended up going sub-3 hours (2:59:44 to be exact) for the 44km which I was really incredibly happy with. I ran a new (unofficial, of course) marathon PB of 2:53:02 along the way - my first sub 3 hour marathon effort in fact - and which I would never have expected on such a hilly course. Not bagging the first place that I was pretty sure was mine is of course gutting but nothing will take away from how strong I was feeling and how in control I felt of my own body. It’s given me great confidence that I’m still getting quicker and that I haven’t yet come near to plumbing the depths of what I can extract out of myself.

Just need to concentrate a bit more on staying on my feet and not being such a muppet next time I guess :-)

It turns out the guy who beat me was Robin Houghton, a Winchester runner who has previously placed 4th at the Lakeland 100 and who has run UTMB before. He is also running the SDW100 in June, and I have a sneaky feeling he’s going to be pretty hard to beat on that course with his speed and his experience of hilly/mountain 100 milers!

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GPS route and splits on Strava here