Stability Through Motion

My first race over marathon distance, though not really a race, was the Downland Challenge in July this year. A tiny event running 30 miles out and back from Clayton (near the Jack and Jill windmills on the South Downs Way) and Rodmell, further east on the SDW.

Since I’d already run 28 miles with no significant damage a couple of weeks earlier, I was hopeful this would go well, although I knew the South Downs were a tougher proposition than the Ridgeway. Much much hillock-ier, lots of up and lots of down and hardly any flat. What I didn’t bargain for was the heat - 28 or 29 degrees most the day, and cloudless. Ugh.

I might have made it round in the heat, it’s difficult to say because I’d made the mistake of tying my shoelaces too tight earlier in the day and walking round in my running shoes. By mile one I was already noticing the effect and stopped to re-tie the laces. Too late ! The damage was done. By mile 20 I was hobbling down the hills, the very bits I was most looking forward to at that stage, nice freewheeling breezy downhill stretches were agony to me.

TOP TIP: check your laces before you set out on a run - loosen them around the bridge of your foot, especially if it’s a hot day or a long run.

So, I made the sensible decision to pull out at the last available checkpoint, 7 miles from the end. A nice guy in a truck gave me a lift back to the start where I refuelled and chatted. I wasn’t the only DNF (Did Not Finish) by any means, many suffering from the heat alone, but I was really annoyed that something so simple as lacing could trip me up (hah hah!). The same shoes with the same lacing had never given problems before, but I guess the heat just made my feet swell. A week without running at all followed, but I’m now convinced that, lacing aside, hot July runs in the middle of the day are not a good idea for me.

I run because I love it, to reach that floaty feeling you get sometimes, that you could just drift along for hours with a small pack on your back, admiring the scenery. OK, sometimes I run too to feel the adrenalin rush, and speed past people when I can. But I don’t run so I can suffer draining heat, cramps, pain, blisters, excessive sweating etc.

To get back to the point, this means I will never ever ever run the Marathon des Sables. You can hold me to that. It’s just a pointless exercise in will and determination over pain and chafing.

. . . I’ll be running 40 miles this September to celebrate an appropriate birthday.

The High Peak 40 race is on September 20th this year, in Buxton. This will be the furthest I’ve ever run in a day, and probably the furthest I will run until I’m 50. This madness is inspired by the great fun I had at Swaledale, running on tracks and through fields in beautiful countryside. It may hurt the quads but it’s a lot more enjoyable than running on dual carriageways in Antwerp! Next year, the plan will be to return to road marathons, and get my times down further, but for now it’s ultra madness.

I’ll be seeing a lot of local footpaths in the coming two months, as I increase my long runs up to 33 miles.

Of course, for some purists, a race isn’t officially an ultra unless it’s 50 miles or over (so twice the marathon distance). But as this route is largely off-road and has 5,000ft of climbing, I think we can be forgiven for calling it an ultra. After all, no one outside the small band of loonie runners even knows or cares how far a marathon is, so who’s counting!

Simply fantastic! 24 miles in 4:01. I got lost, about 2 miles from the end, or I would have made it in 3:50 or so. Perfect blustry weather, not wet underfoot, views were out of this world, and all finished off with a pint of Black Sheep at the end, watching runners then walkers coming in for an hour. What an experience!

Antwerp Marathon: 26.2 miles (42k)

3 hours 13 mins 2 seconds

I travelled through some zones of despair I hadn’t seen before on Sunday. It crept up to 21 degrees C with no shade for long stretches - quite nasty, though I know that’s not really hot.

First half was fine and dandy, keeping ahead of the 3:15 pacers and their bright blue balloons, and on course for my optimum time of 3:10. Forgot my handy pace band though so was a little bit lost for some of  the time, and too tempted to chase people - a very stupid mistake. Then after a long lonely seemingly endless section of dual carriageway I was started to slow.

All of sudden, at 26 or 27k I heard the pounding of a pack of runners on my tail, glanced round and it was the pacing group - minus balloons. What a horrible moment, I really thought they’d just pass me and that would be that. I could console myself that I’d still make it to the end with a PB, but I think I would have lost so much spirit if I had let them past that I gritted my teeth and stayed in front of them until 38k.

By that point, several of the pack had fallen by the wayside and we were passing runners all the time. The pacer was level with me shouting encouragement in Dutch. He translated one of his phrases to me as

“Everybody feels pain now, so we must make the pain pass quicker”

True but highly annoying words - and he then sped up for the last 3k - by this time my quads were in agony, something I’ve never had before. Our fastest kms were right at the end. Even after the Snowdonia marathon and the infamous descent to the end, my quads were fine.

Post-race I had the traditional relaxing limp around town for hours desperately looking for UNsweetened water, lunch, and general moseying around town. I still can’t remember a thing about Antwerp though, so I’ll have to return another day to do some sight-seeing.

Not sure quite what the reasons for my pain this time were - quite possibly I didn’t take enough water and fuel on board. I was reluctant to drink more because if I’d stopped for a pee, I just know I would never have caught the pacing group up again.

Next goals (there’s always another one) - a 10k race in Oxford in May - nice and short, but again trying to break my PB and dip under 40 minutes, which should be realistic, then an off-road and hilly marathon in Swaledale in mid-June.

Port Meadow loop in the morning for a change, and I remembered my cameraphone. The Nokia N95 is just that little bit bigger and heavier, hence I don’t carry it around so much on runs. The result is I’ve haven’t taken so many photos.

Just a reminder, I’m in taper mode. This means my last long run over 15 miles is done and dusted (18 on Sunday), and the mileage per week drops now for the final two weeks before the big race on April 20th.

It’s a scary time - I feel a bit knackered, so it’s come just at the right time, but doing less running means you end up feeling less confident about your ability to keep going at speed for 26.2 miles. Little niggles emerge too to prey on your mind - stiff calves, sprained ankles. You start being extra careful just getting out of the shower
in case of some domestic accident. After all that’s where most accidents happen. You wonder whether you should eat more food, or less, since you’ll be doing less exercise. You start to worry about forgetting your trainers on the day, or where will you pee during the race, or what if you don’t reach registration in Antwerp in time since you’re relying on others to get you there. Ah, the joy of tapering.

I am really really looking forward to 1.15pm on Sunday 20th April when I should be just beyond the finish line.

The single finch(?) has quietened, and now we get the full dawn chorus - really wonderful at 6am.

Nervous days beginning - last long run done and dusted last Friday, 23 miles at 6am before work in the strong wind and rain. Just three more weeks now. Finally got round to mapping the route - and it’s pretty much dead flat, so the only thing that could go against me is the weather.

This is the bird that wakes me up every morning

Rhayader 20 mile race: 2h40m

That was harder than it should have been. Spent the race trying to recalibrate the garmin footpod, which meant I could see neither the time nor my pace/speed. As a result took it faster than I should have, but not fast enough to count as a race - kind of caught in limbo. Still, it’s a wonderful course through the Elan valley, winding around the reservoirs in this deserted part of the world. Two more long runs now before the big day.