Malvern Midsummer Top 10

I went to Malvern once, on a course of some descrition, I saw precisely bugger all of the hills due to them being encased in thick, thick fog. So I was well up for a marathon over the Malvern Hills, what better way to see them than run over and around them!

Trouble was two weeks before, whilst out on my Sunday long run, my flipping IT band goes at mile 12 or so! Cursing I think about what I’m doing, and stride out a bit, correcting my foot strike, over coming the immediate problem and finishing the run. Unfortunately the damage is done.

Thinking back I know exactly what went wrong, I was lazy! Okay so it was my Grandmas 80^th, Happy Birthday Grandma, and we had had a late night and a couple of beers, so hauling my ass out of bed the next day for a 20 miler before the drive back South was less than appealing! That combined with a very flat, coastal route along the Mersey Side Coast Path, lulled me into a lazy lollop, and injury ensued! Still a couple of unscheduled days off, which drove me bonkers, and I was okay, or at least able to run.

The next problem hits a week before. Every year I forget I have asthma, and every year I remember when the hayfever season comes around and I find myself trying to breath through a straw! And I’m not talking those nice big Maccy D’s straws, I’m talking capri sun straws, great for stabbing capri sun but utterly useless as a straw! It’s then a mad dash to find an inhaler, which is usually down the back of the bed with about two puffs left, the first of which is dust and dog hair!

So the day before the Midsummer Malvern I’m not 100% to say the least, and there’s no map just a road book, odds are looking good that I’ll get lost, then have an asthma attack and die of hypoxia! Still should be a good day, might even manage a pb.

Arriving at the campsite the day before I change my mind about a pb, the hills look mighty tall, I couldn’t see that last time I was here, damn the British weather. Which was actually being rather kind today, so I set about lolling on the grass in the sun, perfect race prep me thinks!

It piddles down all knight, and I can’t work out whether my tent is leaking or the reason my sleeping bag appears to be wet is that I’m a sweaty git, deciding it’s neither and most likely condensation, and even if it was leaking I can do nothing about it, I nod off.

Whilst looking for a parking spot I manage to upset a cyclist by stopping in the middle of the road whilst trying to figure out where to go. He then shows his displeasure by over taking me, and promptly falling off in spectacular fashion, apparently being taken out by absolutely nothing! Poor old sod. Managed to find a parking spot pretty close to the start, so all’s good, for me anyway.

After registering I set about for pre-race ablutions, entering the cubicle I’m stopped in my tracks by the smallest toilette I’ve ever seen! Honestly it was about six inches high! This made things awkward to say the least.

0900 came and off we went, starting with a big ascent. Once up, it’s not too bad, theres a series of undulations and I get into the swing of things, I tab along with a guy that I later find out lives in Aus, runs 100 mile ultras and is just out for a bit of exercise before lunch with the inlaws! As it happens this turns out to be a good moove, he sets a pace that, normally I’d think was beyond me, but I keep going. At about half way there is a group of four of us and we’ve stopped overtaking people.

I have a bit of a bonk at mile 17 or so and the other three press on slightly. I catch up to one guy and tab along with him until cramp stops him in his footsteps, feeling a little bad I carry on, then the hills start with avengance! I catch up with the Aussie and the last 7 miles are quad killers, if you’re not blasting uphill you’re getting hammered going down, a cheeky little end to an enjoyable race.

I managed a time of 4:51 ranked 4^th out of 200ish runners, my first top ten, better, my first top 5. Okay so it was a joint 4^th but who cares, and admittedly the guy that won did a sub 4, but there’s always one weirdo that wins, one day that will be me!

 

My first proper fell run, good times. I must admit I was a little apprehensive about this one, and for good reason, check out the contours on this beauty!

Not to worry, I get to do 3 of my most favourite things, camping, running and being amongst mountains and big hills!

Unfortunately I manage to fail spectacularly at the first hurdle. Now when you go camping there are a few essentials that any moron would bring with them, a tent for example, some tent poles and perhaps even some tent pegs, these are all generally considered essential items of kit for a successful camping trip. I didn’t manage to forget the tent, which would have been silly; I did however manage to leave all the tent pegs at home! If memory serves, I think I last used them as pegs for my purse nets, whilst out ferreting.

Fortunately I had a surplus of cutlery, a few spoons and knives later, coupled with the spare tyre for the guy ropes and the tent was looking superb, mc guiver eat your heart out.

Race day arrives, I pay my £8 quid to the campsite, and toddle of to find the start.

You can always tell who the fast people are at these things, they just look fast, like a long dog or race horse you can see they have some miles in them. I pick one chap that looks like a seasoned fell runner and think it would be good to beat him.

At the briefing we get the usual stuff about the way marks, checkpoints and warnings of weather being hot. The organizer then goes on to explain that we will be running near a stream so if needs be we can drop down to it and get a drink, I’m hardy but I’m not hardy enough to risk liver fluke, and looking around I don’t think any one else is either!

We start with a lap of the school field to spread out the pack before we got onto the fells, then its all stop. The first 5-6 miles is up, and up in a big way, we all walk. After 6 or 7 miles I start to feel good and on a down hill section I stride out a bit, overtaking one gentleman I look up and where there were people, there are none. Confused I slow and ask the chap I’d just passed “where did they go?”, yep we were lost, after a brief conflab and consultation of the map we decide to go to the edge and look down, sure enough there were runners, about 500 feet straight down! Only one thing for it, make like a mountain goat and go straight over the edge.

Getting to the half way checkpoint I re fill my water pack and plod on. Rather typically there’s a cameraman waiting at the top of a large incline, after a series of large inclines to snap me at my best! Catching up with the target in front, I decide to tab along with him for a bit, thinking this would mean we won’t get lost as I’m not navigating. This turned out to be a misjudgement of my new running partner’s navigation ability, after jumping/falling over a fence and wading through a brooke we find the right path and are joined by another chap.

Somehow we find out that we are ranking 10^th, 11^th and 12^th, thinking how nice it would be to finish in the top 10 we all stride out a bit, the older chap, satisfied that neither of us are over 50, and his vet position is likely top 3, is happy enough with any ranking, so we all decide to come in together and let the clock sort things out.

Then half a mile from the finish disaster strikes, these two bods, apparently getting beneficially lost pop up in front of us. We all exchange pleasantries and they storm on, once out of ear shot we all have a little grumble, then quickly get over it. Well two of us do, the other chap being slightly ahead of us, gets all excited and speaking in hushed tones tells us they’ve gone the wrong way. Not really the attitude I feel, if people go wrong you tell them, not just watch them and snigger, glad you’ve gained an extra place or two. Any how they didn’t go wrong so no harm done.

Finishing my first proper fell run, quads, calfs and everything in between burning, in a time of 4:53:58, 13^th out of 137 very pleased.

 

For more info and to sponsor me check out my website: https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home

Jurassic Coast - Day 3

Nothing really matters. Having had a significantly better nights sleep, though still awake for the majority trying to work out whether I was burning up or freezing, I really didn't care about anything. I only had one more marathon to do, and there was no Portland, or Weymouth to run through, the view would be spectacular all the way round and provided I made it to CP3 I would finish, actually provided I made it to the start I would finish! After all whats one more marathon in the great scheme of things, I'd just run two, and was still standing. Admittedly running was going to be difficult, but that bridge we would cross when we came to it.

Not even bothering with a shower, I hocked up a lump of flem the size of a small horse that was preventing me from talking, then set off for breakfast. Good news, porridge was hot. Whilst eating the briefing for group one was taking place and I learnt, among other things, that a large portion of the coast path was in the sea and we would have to make a minor detour, adding a few miles onto our route, on the bright side the last couple of miles was along a nudist beach, and we were assured the cold weather would bring them out, so like I said spectacular views!

Piling onto the minibuses for the ride back to Lulworth, things seemed rather quieter than they did on Fri, apparently everyone else was as broken as I was.

On arrival I threw my dry bag into the bus for the end and after a little more fiddling, things would happen slower today, I dibbed in and set off at a hobbly, walky wobble, after a few hundred meters we hit a huge hill, fine by me, means I can walk. Taking time to admire the view I start to notice that a few of the runners aren't caked in mud, in fact some seem to have a positive spring in their step, I then realise that these must be one day-ers and still fresh and keen for the onslaught still to come. Feeling a slight air of superiority, I think to myself, "yeh lets see you look that sprightly after two days of this!".

Now this would be a good point to explain why the pictures stopped, I could have taken some wonderful pictures, massive great hills with little strings of runners meandering up them like little hi-vis ants foraging for food. But, rather like pushing a car, once I got going to stop would be fatal, and all I had the energy to do was think how wonderful a picture it would have made then get my head down and grind on up the picturesque, massive, bloody awful thing!

Passing through the military firing range, and I shout out "Tanks there are tanks!", delighted at the sight of big metal machines, plugged into my I-Pod and generally not really with it I forget there are other people around that couldn't care less about tanks. Looking at me like I'm a bit odd, the girl in front gradually loses speed to get away from the tank loving weirdo. Not at all bothered I try and work out the best way to come back here and have a proper nosey about, or more to the point how to convince Kath it's worthwhile going up the massive hill to get here, perhaps there are some birds knocking around as well, that would work.

Time loses all meaning when you run, and no more so than this day, it took me two hours to get to CP1, I didn't really care though I was rather enjoying myself, not even the horrifying thought that taking two hours between each check point would mean I'd be out for eight hours bothered me much. A strange sense of acceptance, I would finish and it would take a while, and that was that.

The eating at check points had become ridiculous, I stuffed my face with anything and everything, pizza, cheese and pickle sandwiches, fig roles, jaffa cakes, chocolate coated honeycomb and snickers all washed down with a brew. Then off I went again at my funny walky, hobbly, shuffle.

The diversion came and went, as did CP2. I felt for the staff at CP2, they were at probably the most exposed spot possible, wind ripping through the Gatorade bottles.

Arriving at CP3, we're informed of a brand new diversion, not sure it added significantly to the journey mind. I also see Max at CP3, and we tag through Swanage together, this time I really can't keep up his pace and we soon split.

Still no dark times as yet, but getting to the top of Bowleys Down, I think that was what it was called any way, the wind cuts into me like a knife, and for the first time I am flipping freezing whilst running. Normally you warm up to a comfortable working temperature whatever the inclement weather conditions, but this was bad, whether it was because of the previous two days sapping my energy, or my snail like pace, I was seriously cold.

Coming to the end of Bowleys Down and I could see the finish, or nearly the finish any way, I was going to make it whatever!
Dropping down onto the beach for the final leg I get as close to the water as possible to find firm ground, the goings good but the wind is fearsome, and in your face.

This beach seems to go on for miles, like the false peak effect when climbing a mountain the finish just never appeared, and to top it off we had to cross a bloody great river and get wet feet 500 yards or so from the end. But I did it, it wasn't quick, and it certainly wasn't pretty, but it was done, three marathons in three days, oh and my first ultra, day three was just over 30 miles thanks to the diversions!

Sitting on the mini bus I had a strange moment, I'd just been running for three days, it had been my world, every waking moment, and some sleeping had been devoted to getting from here to there, or getting ready to get from here to there, or recovering from getting from there to here, and now it was over, what was I going to do? A strange sense of elation and loss.

My time for day three 7:49:27 65th out of 154. Happy!

Overall time for the three days 19:34:57 39th out of 126. Oh so Happy!

I'd like to give a massive big up to the Votwo events team, not that they'll see this but hey ho, I was incredibly well looked after before, during and after the event and would highly recommend this event to anyone, whilst siting on the bus at the end of day three, one of the team even took an order for soup and brews meaning we didn't have to get up, absolute hero. I'll see you in Oct for the Atlantic Coast Challenge.

I'd also like to thank Max and Sacha for looking after me and generally giving me guidance throughout this event, much appreciated thank you.

This event was a massive learning curve on my road to MDS, it was as different from running a marathon as running a 5k is from a full marathon, I suppose I just dipped my toe into ultra running, I loved it!

For more info and to sponsor me check out my website: https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home

Jurassic Coast Challenge - Day 2

Buzzing after Day One I struggled to sleep, I couldn't work out whether I was hot or cold, apparently something to do with my liver working over time. When I do wake up I feel absolutely awful! Head hurts, feel a bit sick, massive flemmy cough, generally just don't want to be anywhere doing anything!

For this reason I opt to go with the later runners group, to give me some time to get my head sorted. Going down to HQ for kit check I'm not a happy bunny! Getting a number two scrawled over the number one from yesterday I can't face breakfast and head back to the van. I manage an emergency pot of porridge I brought with me, and a brew and start to feel a little more positive. Getting myself together I head down for the briefing, less wind today only 20 odd MPH. No minibus ride, we start from HQ. I sling my dry kit on the minibus for the end, dib in and set off.

The first half of the day is around Portland, as it happens a vaguely interesting place, that apparently has a reputation for being a bit odd. CP1 is at the light house, I stuff a bit of pizza down my neck and head on. By this point I'm struggling big time, the words "I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here" keep looping in my head, every now the then I need to cough up a ball of flem the size of a small dog, which does nothing for the burning, tearing ripping sensation in my throat/chest!

CP2 and I'm questioning how the hell I'm going to finish this. It doesn't help that CP2 is back at HQ and the van is 5 minutes walk away! Spotting Max, my van mate, I hobble over with a new find on my long runs, a cup of tea. I find him also struggling and I take solace in the fact that I'm not the only one having a bad day. After another brew and some H2Pro electrolyte drink, I set off with Max. The next leg is through Weymouth, if it weren't for Max this would have been a lot harder, as it was I just got my head down and trudged along beside, having to do no navigation through the streets of Weymouth. Setting a blistering pace of about 10-11 min/mile, trust me by now that was like light speed, we pounded through Weymouth and out the other side, back onto the mud. Which for me was a relief, the relentless pounding of tarmac and monotony of streets did nothing for the loop in my head of "I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here".

Once back on the muddy stuff I slow and Max disappears into the distance. By CP3 I'm done, I get myself a brew and adopt the famous peeing in the street Paula Radcliffe look, in a vein attempt to stretch out my calves, which are by now so tight you could play a tune off them. The CP staff look at me worried and check if I'm carrying on or not, I reply rather foolishly with "yes, I'm just not sure how yet". Knowing full well how far I've got I ask how much further to go, not feeling at all reassured by someone else telling me its only 12 k or so to go, I set off at a hobble. Spotting a finger post saying 6 miles to Lulworth, bizarrely does the trick and I start to feel a bit more positive. The next 6 miles is known as the roller coaster, and it is up and down somewhat, still at least it's prettier than the last 20 miles!

A bizarre thing happens towards the end, I develop a new style of walking, apparently it's known as fell walking, a bit like normal walking just really giving it some. This pays me in good stead and a mile or so from the finish I set my sights on number 29, the loop of "I don't want to be here" is replaced with "I'm guna get you 29". Putting my newly discovered technique into operation I gain on a long uphill section, overtaking him just before the brow I see steps, not just any steps, steps going down hill, with a Votwo flag at the bottom, finishing with a flourish I actually run down them at an astonishing pace, even for fresh legs I'd have been pleased with it!

Crossing the line I find Max and Sacha recently finished, forgot to mention but Sacha really struggled on Day 1 and was questioning Day 2, so to finish was great. All now on a high we piled on the bus and headed for home. I did however still have a nagging thought in my head, how the hell was I going to do tomorrow?

Back at the van and I was starting to feel cold, fortunately we had two showers, one being an en-suite, which apparently worked. Looking forward to not having to play silly buggers with the shower I was bitterly disappointed when this too was cold. That was it, me at my lowest. I went to bed and called Kath my girlfriend for, at the very least, a hug down the phone!

After a touch more moping and feeling sorry for myself we eventually got the shower working and I was a happy man once again, and to top it off roast dinner for tea.

That night I went to bed early feeling positively ill, to put it politely.

My time for day two 6:26:36 61st out of 197. Poorly!


For more info and to sponsor me check out my website: https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home

Jurassic Coast Challenge - Day 1

So it begins! Predictably,  I can't sleep and am up early. I have a moment with the shower in which I call it many four letter words, and get out still with shampoo in my hair!

Good news, it looks like the rain has stopped, still a touch windy though. We all head off for breakfast, kit check and registration together. I get my number, 202, and my "dibber", the chip attached to my wrist for timing, and get all my compulsory kit checked a number one scrawled on my hand denoting a satisfactory kit check.

Then it's time for breakfast, the choice of options is good, but the porridge is cold. Still, I struggle to get it down, then back to the van for pre-race ablutions, last minute supplement mixing and general faffing! Back at HQ for the briefing we're told the worst of the wet weather has blown through last night with just a few wintery showers expected, but the wind is gusting up to 45mph, wouldn't be so bad if it was on our backs!

We all pile onto the minibuses for the 50 minute drive to Charmouth. We were told at the briefing that it would be a pretty low key start, basically the driver would open the minibus doors and say "that way" and we'd be off. This they were not joking about, the bus stopped, doors opened and bodies in High Vis and compression clothing bursted in all directions, some to find the nearest tree to remedy the last minute panicked hydration, some to find the dibber and get going, others just running because, well that's what they do, utter chaos!

Dumping my dry bag in the minibus for the finish, I dibbed in and set off. At last, all apprehension and worry melts away, and I'm even running down hill, bliss!

A stile, and confusion reigns, actually confusion reigns for the next mile or two, everywhere you look there's a little string of runners trying to find where the hell the coast path is, I tell you its not marked like my old South Downs Way! It soon becomes apparent that becoming lost is all part of the fun, sometimes it's even beneficial.

Going up golden cap, I find myself in front, or at least I can't see anyone to follow, having not been in this situation before I tentatively carry on, with frequent looks over my shoulder to check other runners are following, not because it means I'm going the right way but at least I'll be lost with others.

Check Point 1 appears rather quickly and I'm the first one there! I have a quick mouthful of Gatorade and carry on. By this point there is a small group of 3-4 of us that tab along together, occasionally stopping to check the map and take a consensus on the best way to go.

CP2 comes and goes and our merry band continue forward. The odd thing was that I ate at CP2, I normally avoid eating anything while running, accept energy gels or chews perhaps, but the look of a cheese and pickle sandwich was too much to bear and I scoff one at every CP.

The run up to CP3 was muddy, contract farmers ploughing up the headlands didn't help, but it was nothing compared to the mud after! Sticky, sucking, clawing, slippery, slithery stuff, it was awful! By this point our merry band had dissipated into 3, and then we got lost. Actually I got lost, others just followed, the coast path stopped, all paths stopped and we were in a flipping campsite! We marched on through and, coming to a road we were joined by another chap that had seen us and followed. After a quick perusal of the map we figured out where we were, and how to get back to the coast path, which meant a bit of road running, which was nice.

Once back on the coast path our little group began to string out and the chap who got lost with us, who turned out to be called Rick, and I pulled away from the others. After several miles of mud, the finish was in site, and we were first back. Feeling rather chuffed I went in search of a brew, a minor disaster the geny had gone down and there was no hot water! The day was saved however, with the offer of soup.

Back at the van the shower even decided to play ball and I was able to wash Dorset off my legs! Apparently last year people were suffering heat stroke and sun burn, this year hypothermia and trench foot were more common!

All in all a brilliant day, I genuinely enjoyed every second of Day One. I think back and I'm sure it was sunny, flowers out, birds singing as I skipped merrily through the Dorset countryside, not gale force winds and wind chills in the minus figures!

My time  5:18:54 24th out of 195. Happy!

For more info and to sponsor me check out my website: https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home

The Jurassic Coast - Pre Start

Right. My first multi day event, over three days I'm going to double the number of marathons I've done, and do it on some of Dorset's most impressive coastline!

The Jurassic Coast Challenge consists of three marathons in three consecutive days, over the Jurassic coast, bizarrely.

Arriving on Thurs night, to check into my luxury villa, or massive posh caravan, or even grotty tin pot caravan depending on your point of view, I went for the massive posh option, despite what it said on the side.



Everything in it's place, even the miniature heroes!

Believe it or not I'm massively organized in  my own little way, especially on things like this, I enjoy fiddling and getting ready and putting every thing in its place, so I set about organizing my little room and the kit I would need. Which to be honest was a bit of an unknown I felt I had brought a colossal amount of stuff for only three days, not sure what to actually take with me on the run I just went for small and light, partly because it makes sense if I'm carrying it, but mainly because my bag was really small and I was too tight to buy a larger one!



After an hour or so of fiddling, the couple I would be sharing the luxury villa with turned up, and I had apparently brought the bare minimum of kit. They had boxes and bags and tubs and all sorts, as it turned out Max was a seasoned runner having done this event several times and Sacha was a seasoned martial at these events. The perfect people for a novice like me to be sharing with, very friendly and full of help and advice.

After a little more fiddling and organising we set off to HQ for tea, lasagna. I don't normally eat pasta so this was a bit of a treat. Walking back to the van the thought occurred to me that I might need a little more food than was being offered, fortunately I had brought emergency rations, which I scoffed before my shower.

Yes the shower left a lot to be desired and lost the big posh caravan some brownie points. Hot water would only be produced from the shower after the sink tap was on for a while, then turned off, even then it would only last for a few minutes, then you'd have jump out and turn the tap on again and wait, then jump back in!

After a less than pleasant shower out came the powders, and potions and supplements, if any one were to peer in the window it would appear a Colombian drug lord was having a party.
After a frenzied mixing of sports drinks, electrolytes and various products with 'Power' and 'Energy' in the title, we sit down to watch the telly. As it happens Sacha is also going to do all three days for the first time. It's always nice to have someone as apprehensive as you on things like this.

Sitting in bed that night as the van rocked from side to side in gale force winds and rain drummed mercilessly on the aluminium roof, I did have a brief flash of questioning disbelief at what I had signed up for, the thought didn't last long mind!


For more info and to sponsor me check out my website: https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home

My first sub four

The Steyning Stinger, sounds fearsome don't you think? Consisting of 4 "stings" or big hills, over the South Downs, probably not the place for a PB, but this time I really had been training my behind off, and was genuinely looking forward to it.

Not the typical proceedings on the day, no timing chip and no start time. Both of which actually turned out to be really nice. You can turn up any when you like after 0730 I think, sign in get your race number and go, brilliant system and a brilliant race.

Feeling good, and walking up to the start line Metallica comes on through the ipod, I must admit I did develop a little bit of a swagger, as a tingle goes down my back there was nowhere else I'd rather be!

The strategy I've developed is to slot in behind someone and tag along with them until they end up to fast for me, or some one faster comes along and it's a more comfortable pace. This time after a mile or so a chap in a woolly bobble hat jogs past, thinking it a strange attire for a run I slot in behind him at a fast, but comfortable pace. Feeling confident and enjoying a bendy downhill bit, I find myself in the middle of a bog! Suddenly panicking that my choice of road shoe was a big mistake I slip and slide my way to a stile, fortunately this marks the end of the wet stuff and the rest of the race is firm under foot.

I lose bobble hat man at mile 8 or so, I was fiddling around trying to open my packet of shot blocks with hands that are good for nothing other than chilling a beer, and when I looked up again he was nowhere to be seen. As it turns out bobble hat man came in 10th, yes I did do a little bit of competitor stalking.  Lesson learnt, open energy stuff before a race while hands still work, gels the exception of course, things may get a little sticky!

Getting to the checkpoint at Cissbury Ring, mile 16 perhaps, and all is well, in fact I'm having a rather good time. I shovel in a couple of chunks of Mars bar and scoot off down the hill, half a mile later there's no-one in front and no-one behind, I'll just give it a few hundred yards then it'll open up and I'll be able to see some other runners I think to myself. It opens up and not a sausage to be seen! Looking over my left shoulder, and up hill, I see a body in running gear going the other way, whoops back we go, still a minor detour never hurt anyone.

"I can see a downhill bit!"

After completing the loop of Cissbury I'm yet to be engulfed by the dark side, wishing I was anywhere else but pounding round this course for mile after mile, if you run you've been there and you know. Another loop around Steep down and the corners start to grey out, I can feel it coming, mile 21 and darkness! Whether this was one of the stings or just an incidental hill on the run but it nearly defeated me. It wasn't steep, but it went on, and on and on, beaten into a weird shuffly run I saw a bloody camera man in the distance! Brilliant get me at my best why don't you, putting on a brave face I look for inspiration into the distance, and there it is, runners going downhill, that's all I need, happy face is back!


The happy face remains and come the last mile or two we're up to 7min/mile and positively enjoying oneself. A fantastic race, not only due to my cracking time, but because of the scenery and fantastic organisation from Steyning AC, recommend this race highly, and you get breakfast at the end!

As for my time, 3:52:40 28th out of 208 runners, happy Tom!

For more info and to sponsor me check out my website: https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home

Time for a bit of guidance

It's simple really isn't it, you train to run ultras by getting up and running miles and miles and miles, don't you?

Well yes I guess so, but lets be honest how many of us actually know how many miles to run, at what pace, what HR, what other areas we should be giving some time to, what not to eat and generally how the heck we get the very best performance we can from ourselves.

So the plan was to get a professional on it, find out how fit I am and get a plan on paper, this hopefully would hit two aims with one rock; the first being to give me an idea of exactly how much work I should be doing and some of the other areas I should be putting time into, like core work, and the second, I'm a lazy sod and easily distracted, so having a bit of paper with it all spelled out on gives me just one thing to do, everything on that bit of paper!

Now I know there are hundreds of trainers and get fit bods out there, but I thought it made a little sense to speak to someone with some MDS experience, and you'd be hard pushed to find any one with more MDS experiance than Rory Coleman, having run it 9 times. Cheap it was not, but the sponsors will pay, when I get some, and I suppose you can't put a price on advice, the bit that did stick in my throat somewhat was my lttle car being classed as a van on the Severn bridge and having to pay £12 quid for the priviledge! - but again sponsors are needed.

We started with a little mental preperation and warm up, then on to the VO2 max test. My only experiance was what I has seen on telly where peoplen seem to pass out on treadmills with what looked like respirators stuck in their gobs, so I was looking forward to this bit!

I'm not sure how we did it but I ran my arse off for a while and at the end I went white the room span an equation was done and I was aparently fairly fit, which was good, I should be running sub 3hrs marathons according to the result, so stepping up is certainly in order!

After this we went for a brew and wrote up a 12 week plan, and had a nosey about on ther tinterweb for some races to enter, Jurasic Coastal here I come.

All in all a very positive and usefull little adventure. I now have a nice wee plan that, although initially scary, puts ones mind at rest, having everything written down in front of you allows you to tackle one day at a time, whilst still planning for the big days to come. Sounds odd but it helps to take it one day at a time, and still being aware that come week eight I will be running three marathons back to back.

Now is certainly the time for hard work, every step I take now is one less to take in the desert.

For more info and to sponsor me check out my website: https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home

When things don't work out

The second marathon on my road to MDS could be summed up in three words, crash and burn!

This was the one, a sub four hour, nice and flat, a little urban admitedly but I thought I'd be going so fast I wouldn't notice the view! I was entered into the Portsmouth Coastal Marathon on the 23rd Dec, what else are you going to be doing? Fantastic value for money, very well organised and run, the route goes out from Pompey around the coast to Hayling island and back along the same route.

Compared to my first marathon, the aim of which was only ever to finish. An aim incidentally that will never be adopted for any race again, although the primary aim is always to fininsh, it makes things drag, and I enjoy it more if I know there's nothing left in the tank at the end.

Any way off topic there, compared to my first marathon I did a fair bit of training for this one, admitedly still not enough. I worked out the pace I needed to maintain, had a strategy of sports gels and chewy shot things to be consumed at set miles throughout the race, and my training runs were coming in on time, I was feeling confident.

Race day arrived, and the first mistake of the day. I set out from home in what I thought was plenty of time, got there with ages to spare, then realised you had to pay for the car park! After buying a banana with a £10 note I stood at the parking meter, "Hmmm, shall I pay for an optimistic 5 or 6 hours?" I thought. Plumping for the sensible option of 6 I jammed in a load of quids and set off for the obligatory pre race poo. Now this was a lesson I learnt very early on in my running career, always have a poo before you run. If you think it's uncomfortable needing to go in an every day situation then try running whilst clenched, most uncomfortable!
Unfortunately everyone else also has to relieve themselves before they run, and with only 3 toilettes there was a que as long as the ladies and a smell like....well rather unpleasant!

In a slight flutter, getting back to the car, ripping of clothes, plugging in ipods, turning on Garmins and wildly jabbing safety pins into me, my shirt and my race number I set of for the line, I must have been the last one across it!

Lesson learnt, arrive earlier than you think you need!

Still we were under way and feeling good, one advantage to starting at the back is breezing past the slowbees! The first leg went well, seeing the lead runner at about mile 12 for me and I suppose 14 or so for him, I'll be honest the guy chasing in second place looked in better nick than this chap. At mile 13 and the turn point my knee started to feel a little funny, but no real discomfort so we kept grinding on, I found splashing through the enormouse puddles helped.

Mile 17 water stop, I slow to grab a quick drink and as I set of again escrutiating agony in my left knee! I make it about 200 painful yards and have to stop, what's going on this isn't part of the plan?! I try again and no luck, hobbling back to the check point a marshall notices I have been through once and asks what's wrong. Feeling like a proper knob I say my knee hurts, I sit down on a bench, and feeling like an even bigger knob get wrapped up in tin foil while someone sprays stuff on my knee and does something with their hands. Whatever they did it seemed to help, and after some time I hobbled off, and eventually was able to run again. The next water station at about 21 I think and it all happens again! I manage a funny hobbly walky run wich puts pressure on my other leg, which as a result cramps up. This pretty much continues to the end of the race. Finishing in 5.03, not great really.

Still, on the bright side it didn't drag, just felt like a run rather than a chor, and I've discovered a good marathon undie, that doesn't rub important areas raw, every cloud hey!

For more info check out my website https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home