2015 Rocky Raccoon 100 - Running Happy

The great thing about running long is that no matter what you plan for, or how well you think you know your body, the course, the weather, or your gear, something unexpected always turns up to make you think.  At this year's Rocky Raccoon 100, I got to enjoy a lot of my plans going right, and a few going ever so awry.  The key word there is "enjoy," and in spite of my newly super-sized big toes, I really did enjoy pretty much every minute of my race.

To say that this year's event has been a key goal ever since last year's disappointing DNF would be an understatement.  Most of my gear reviewing has been based around fixing weaknesses identified last year.  The races I have run have had little to do with this year's attempt, but the many races I chose not to run were almost all about making sure I had the legs to go the distance.  What can I say?  That DNF hurt a lot, and I wasn't in the mood to let it happen again.


So, what went right?  The pre-race build up was the first thing I got right.  The goal was to arrive in Huntsville in a positive frame of mind.  The next improvement on last year was to have my own food for the entire race, so the aid stations were top-up and back-up, rather than the mainstay of my nutrition.  I geared my choices early on to things that I would want to eat even when not feeling hungry, because I've found that I feel hungry about 5 minutes before I bonk.  The final plan that worked out better than 2014 was to use a very light bottle belt instead of a race vest - I'd tested the Ultimate Direction Scott Jurek Endure Belt repeatedly and knew it would do the job and give me the chance to dissipate heat more efficiently than a vest would.  With those pieces in place, together with a better training block in the Fall, I started and ran the whole race with no concern about whether I'd finish, and with a lot of confidence that a PB was completely achievable.

However, something always goes wrong in an ultra - you're out there too long for it not to.  I had some particularly exciting lighting problems, and did a bit of a number on my big toes with a few of the roots along the way.  But, because I felt positive throughout, I never really got down about the problems - I just set about finding solutions or carried on regardless.  I think a lot of that positivity was helped by calorie-loading early on and maintaining a manageable pace - so I didn't have a major energy dip until quite close to the end.

Overall, I ran happy - and running happy makes everything else that much easier to put into perspective.  For the details & pics, keep reading!

Pre-race

The plan was to relax and catch up with family while we took an extra couple of days to acclimate to the local weather.  Since Nic is doing the 50 (one week after the 100), and had the joy of a winter cold in mid-January, the plan also included a few good runs on local trails in Austin & Round Rock to make sure we were building up to the race well.

Great weather for the build-up runs - Lady Bird Lake looking beautiful in the warm sun.

Taking my EVRC club vest out for a spin in 20C temps - High Summer in January!!

It's always important to include recovery and enjoyment into any training schedule, and the fine weather in the week before race day certainly encouraged some relaxing time outdoors.

Sunshine and warmth begets the occasional afternoon libation.

If you've never been here, you've missed out on some of the most amazing donuts in the land.  Eat more than one, though, and you may have to take up ultras to keep the weight off.

All told, the week leading up to the race was perfect.  We arrived on Friday in Huntsville with me excited and ready to run, and Nic delighted to take a few hours recce-ing the 50 route alone (ie without me yapping incessantly).

Raven Lake looking good in the sun on Nic's run

Nic capturing the evening light on the boardwalk.

While Nic enjoyed some well-earned peace, I meandered over to packet pickup, enjoyed the race briefing, and caught up with some fellow runners.  I managed to catch up with Stephen Rodgers, who was kilted up for the event, and we reminisced over the 2014 humidity trial (he passed the test, finishing in the freezing rain after the sweltering Saturday).  I also had the joy of meeting Tony Nguyen, who takes running happy to a whole new level of big smiles and super enthusiasm.  I dropped my DamNation drop-bag, started panicking over where I'd packed my rain jackets (eventually found in time for the final sort-out), and then picked up Nic for an early dinner.

Like so many of the runners, we were up at stupid-o'clock (3:45am) to allow plenty of time to get through the queues into Huntsville State Park.  While I got set up at Dogwood, Nic headed off to the Nature Center station, which would be her base with Dad for the day.  Pre-race, I caught up with Brits Chris Mills and James Elson.  James would be shooting for a high placing, while Chris and I were both aiming for sub-24.  Time flew quickly, and before I had time to get properly nervous, we were off and running.

Wrapped up in the chilly wee hours.

I set myself towards the back half of the 367-strong field, knowing that a gentle walk-jog for the first 5km would be a good way to ease through the early (dark) miles without blowing a lot of energy and hopefully without catching too many roots. I was looking for a 3:50-4:00 first lap, with plenty of food and drink along the way.  Nic was supplying me with rather tasty BLT wraps for the first few hours, and I looked forward to each of my snack-break uphills.  With yummy snacks, easy running, and friendly faces around, I thoroughly enjoyed my 20mi warm-up.  That first lap went pretty much perfectly (3:52).  By starting in the back, I was constantly passing people rather than running with them.  While not the most sociable way to spend the morning, it meant that I could exchange pleasantries but avoided accidentally tapping into someone else's pace - a mistake I made repeatedly in 2014.  It also gave me the opportunity to play a little chatty leapfrog with Brandon Holloway (25:50) and Roy Pirrung (26:44) as our run/walk strategies overlapped.

Feeling fresh after the first lap

Much like the first lap, the second was full of gentle running, eating (now with a couple of hummus wraps thrown into the mix), walking up hills, and a bit of chit-chat with runners as we passed and re-passed with our various run/walk strategies.  Nic and Dad continued to look after me like pros at the 3 accessible aid stations.  Nic and I had already agreed that her job was to be bossy, and my job was to do what I was told - never easy, but it worked beautifully on the day.  The roots started to get a bit bigger and easier to trip over, and the hills seemed slightly longer and steeper than on lap one, but I was still in a happy place, bimbling along through the peaceful woods.  By now, the out-and-back segments were a bit trickier, since runners were running in both directions on the narrow trail.  It was a chance to exchange encouraging words (leading to me thinking of them as the "Good job!" sections) and also see how others were getting on.  By the time I'd reached 30 miles, I started to feel a hot spot on my right heel, so stopped and patched it before it became a problem.  Messing about with the sock, I noticed a stinging feeling on my big toe, so had a look, and sure enough found some blisters starting up.  I hadn't felt anything at all, so counted myself lucky, applied a couple of blister plasters, and got moving again.  The few minutes lost tipped me a little outside schedule for the lap (4:01), but it was time very well spent.  The heat started to get a bit much, so I reverted to my youth and bared my pasty torso on the run for the first time in decades, and felt much better for all the extra air.

Picture? I was topless, and the glare was just too much for the camera.

The goal for lap 3 was to avoid over-heating and over-working, so that I'd still have something in the tank for the final 40.  Really, it's best not to think too hard in the middle section about things like "next time I'm here, it's only 40 miles left to go!".  So, I kept concentrating on the time it would take to the next aid station, whether I was eating enough, drinking enough, or getting my feet high enough.  Food and drink were fine.  My feet, however, were not always getting over the roots, and I started to kick the whatsit out of my big toes.  Plenty of times I just glanced off the little hazards, but every so often I would catch one flush on the big toe and feel a sharp pain shoot through my whole foot.  I guess the upside was that I was still moving fast enough to hit the roots hard.  Somehow (probably due to reasonable training and plenty of early calories), I maintained a cheery mood and shrugged off the blows as "well, who needs toenails anyway?".  In about a week, I expect I'll be looking at my nail-less toes and wishing I had done a better job of getting my feet up.  I finished the lap in good time for Nic and Dad to get me set up for the night before they headed off for some well-earned rest (4:39).  The heat was slowing me down, but not taking a long-term toll like it had the year before.

Still topless - apparently people were turned to stone by the sight.

Lap 4 took the race into proper problem-solving mode.  It was dark by the time I left Dogwood for the penultimate time, and I forgot to pick up my spare batteries.  I knew the dark laps would be slower than the light ones, if only because I'd be tired and having to take a bit more care on the roots.  Early in the loop, I had a brief chance to chat with Scott Dunlap (new PR of 17:06, age-group win) - a big boost for me since he was a big inspiration for me to set up on my own.  At DamNation, before heading out for 10km of dark single-track, a volunteer asked if I had my spare batteries.  I thought briefly and realized that they were still at Dogwood.  Hoping that my new LED Lenser SEO7R would still have plenty of charge on it from the morning, I set off into the darkness.  A mile later, the light switched to low power.  Compound errors:  I hadn't really learned to use the SEO functionality or the battery-saving function, and had been running fairly high-powered to make sure I didn't catch too many roots.  So, I walked up the hill in very dim light, hoping that a passing runner might have spare AAA batteries I could use.  After a few AA carriers, Ace Gallegos offered me his spare light - which was back at DamNation.  Ace was shooting for a 22hr finish and was motoring through a painful ITB, so I stuck to him like glue.  I kept my light on the lowest power and widest angle to give some ambient light, and Ace had his spot on quite bright, picking out the major trip hazards.  Every now and then, I missed one with the eyes and found it with the toes, and I hit the ground at least twice on that section (I was more focused on sticking to Ace than anything else, so I really don't know how many times I tripped, fell, or turned an ankle).  We got back to the aid station still in good time for a 22hr, and Ace very kindly sorted me out with a light before taking some time to work on his leg.  I finished the lap with an opportunity to grab a 22hr, and ample time to get the sub-24.  After sorting out my light with fresh batteries, returning Ace's with some fresh batteries, and grabbing my backup H7R for some secondary lighting, I grabbed my lap-5 gels and set out aiming for a 4am finish.

Lap 5 was a tale of two halves.  With the SEO7R on my head providing a mid-power wide angle, and my H7R on high-power spot focus any time I was running, I was able to keep moving at a pretty good pace.  Nature Center came and went, with my pace near enough to 14min/mi.  DamNation arrived in similar fashion.   I was starting to properly tire by the time I got to the half way point, but was still looking at a 4:00-4:15 finish time, if I could maintain my effort level.  I knew the second half of the loop was potentially faster, but I also had 90 miles in my legs and was definitely feeling it.  The final visit to DamNation came at around 1:50, and I'd been working hard on that loop to keep the potential for that 4am finish.  Once I got off the Dam Road and back onto the single track, though, the effort of staying on plan A+ bit back, and I knew it was time for a longish walk.  I also realised I needed to put in some new batteries to keep the bright light (maybe next time I'll get some new ones instead of picking up a few 2-year old ones.  Thus far, I'd managed to avoid walking on the flats for anything other than comfort break, aid station, or some of the really rooty sections where a 10s walk is better than a face-plant.  Now, I knew I was bonking a bit, so I put on a fastish walk, popped my last 2 gels, aiming for 30-40 minutes of walking.  I figured the difference between 2 20-minute miles and 2 15-minute miles was pretty irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.  The 22hr finish was gone, so the next goal was a PB (previous 23:17, on a much easier course).  After 20 minutes, I was on some good running track and got back to running - I couldn't bring myself to miss out on flat fire road.  It wasn't fast, and it wasn't pretty, but it was kind of like running.  My lights started dimming a bit (or possibly it was my brain), so I got a bit paranoid that I was going to end up in the dark again and started to push harder on the easy footing and eased off on the trippy bits.  I dropped nearly 40 minutes over that last 8 miles, but ended with a strong run on the nice, flat final straight to cheers from Nic and Dad, who'd crawled out of bed at way-too-early to see me finish.

Hurrah - finished with time for a nap before breakfast!

We enjoyed the euphoria of the finish (22:41), and headed to the car, and just about then the happy fell away as my battered toes started to say hello.  Sunday was a bit rough, but it was all made better by a little anesthetic in the evening.

Ice treatment made everything better!

Gear:

Salomon Fellraisers  (Run Stuff)
Injinji Performance 2.0 Trail Socks (ULTRAmarathonRunningStore)
Dirty Girl Gaiters (UMRS)
Ancient Brooks shorts
Cotswold Running Singlet (Run Stuff)
2x Cotswold Running Short-sleeved T-Shirts (Run Stuff)
dhb Arm Warmers
Cotswold Running Buff
Ultimate Direction Scott Jurek Endure Belt (UMRS)
LED Lenser H7R and SEO7R head torches (UMRS)

Food (as best as I remember):

4.5 BLT wraps (2 rashers of bacon, a bit of mayo, lettuce, tomato in a small tortilla)
2 hummus wraps
9 Oreo cookies
3 TORQ pineapple & ginger energy bars
1 large Clif Chocolate Mint Builders Bars
~5 small Clif Chocolate Mint Builders Bars
~15 Hammer salt tablets
4 TORQ Energy gels
4 TORQ Energy caffeinated gels
4 Gu isotonic tablets

Race Volunteers: you ran well because they made it happen

I haven't written any race reports for a while, and I started to wonder if it was because I was tired of blogging, or didn't enjoy the races, or just because I needed a vacation to empty my head enough to process what has actually been a pretty busy summer racing schedule.  In the end, I've realized that it's because as much fun/effort as the past few races have been, I'd come away from the race thinking as much about the race as about my running in it.  I'd spent a lot of time over the month trying to get to grips with what really makes me come home raving about a great event.  The answer: the volunteers.

We all know volunteers make races happen, but how many runners actually show that appreciation during a race?  Race Directors choose the course, set the wheels in motion, and try to steer things in the right direction.  Volunteers do pretty much all the hard work of getting aid stations up, pointing gormless runners in the right direction (yes, I've been both the pointer and the pointee - we all have our witless moments), having water, sweets, crisps, and goodness knows what else spilt all over them.  In nearly all cases, they do it with a smile or a look of incredulous awe, depending on just how crazy your event is.  In nearly all cases, they do it because helping someone achieve their goals is at least as enjoyable as achieving that goal yourself.

Just a small part of our medal collection: it takes more than good running to have a good race.

Here are just a few thoughts about volunteers and volunteering based on my June races.

Last month, I had the chance to return to one of my favourite local races, the Cleeve Cloud Cuckoo.  This year, it was 5.5mi of driving rain, cloud, and generally miserable weather.  I mostly had an absolute ball, and was quite thankful I was running.  It's daft enough to go out and race in that, but how crazy do you have to be to simply stand still?  Volunteering takes stamina and a warped sense of humour sometimes.

Ten days later, I headed out for another hard training run at Humph's Hilly Half, in Bourton-on-the-Water.  It was a glorious evening for racing, and perfect for volunteering.  When you sign up to help out, you hope for balmy weather, some nice sunshine, and beautiful surroundings like we had on the day.  On my way around the gently undulating course, I enjoyed a few low-fives with the younger volunteers, made one lad's day by stooping down to take water from him instead of his mum, and managed to knock over about 6 cups trying to get 1 off the table, rather than the bottles that were being handed out (I only needed a sip).  I was all smiles for the first two stations, and mortified when I cleverly tried to grab the final cup (to avoid knocking any over) and missed with superb malcoordination.  Still, all handled with friendly conversation and a smile.  Even when you're running hard, it's not much effort to grunt or gasp "thanks" or "sorry", or give a smile or a thumbs up as you pass.  That little bit of interaction lets the volunteers know they aren't taken for granted, and it generally gives the runner a boost, too.

A few days later, it was time for our club's annual fell race, the Bredon Bash.  It's a simple one-hill course. Run a bit, cross a field, run up the hill, run along the top, retrace your steps to the finish.  It's my turn to do a bit of payback, so I was stationed on top of the hill, encouraging everyone up to the turnaround point and then back down.  Since it's a pretty small local field, I knew about half the runners already, so I had a jovial time cheering, cajoling, and just occasionally shouting good-hearted abuse to help them on their way.  Having a friendly face on the route cheering you on is great. Apparently, though, when it's your coach it might not always seem like fun at the time, as you try to look great even though you really just want to decorate your shoes with your lunch.

The next weekend, I headed up and down Cleeve Hill again, in the Cheltenham Circular Challenge.  I rather arrogantly entered the ultra (48mi), deciding that it was just silly to go for the marathon when I could do an extra 22.  After all, it's only another lap of up & down the hill plus a flat 10K and a flat 5K.  As it turned out, it was also incredibly warm, and I got more than a bit stupid as I got tired. I enjoyed chatting with volunteers, they enjoyed encouraging me on, and we had lots of pleasant interactions (the joys of a lapped route) as I kept passing them.  Unfortunately, what I didn't have, until I'd gotten particularly dim, was an experienced ultra runner looking at me and telling me to stop, have some crisps, and cool down for 10 minutes.  After 39mi, Nic was waiting for me (having done the marathon, and looking quite happy and relaxed).  She asked me questions about what I wanted, shook her head in despair when I refused any sensible intervention and insisted on carrying on, and ended up having a fairly pathetic wreck of a husband for a few hours after I DNF'd. We've now adjusted my personal crew instructions - when I've been going for more than 20 miles, don't ask me questions, tell me what to do.  Otherwise, I'll probably insist everything is perfect and refuse all sensible support.  Friendly volunteers are amazing and will carry you through most races.  Bossy ones will get you to the end of an ultra.

Then came the big event of the summer: Endure24.  Nic and I spent so long trying to decide if we wanted to enter as a pair, enter as solos, or not enter at all, that we ended up defaulting to the 3rd option when the race filled up.  In reality, we didn't really mind, because it meant we would be happily crewing our friend Mitch as he attempted to win it and wipe last year's agony out of his mind.  Another friend, Matt, had sneakily entered so we crewed him as well.  We sat and cheered or clapped as runners passed again and again on their 5mi laps.  We dolled out drinks, food, encouragement, and instructions for hours on end.  When it got dark, I tried to cheer or clap less loudly.  To all those trying to sleep nearby, sorry about that, as it seems I wasn't as successful as I'd thought at keeping the noise down.  I couldn't accept just sitting and watching and not encouraging, so after setting Mitch on his laps, I tried to walk around a bit to keep from having all those trying to get some rest come out and throttle me. Encouraging is addictive.

In the end, Mitch did win the race.  He set a new course record. Once it was over, we all hugged and congratulated him and rumour has it I might even have shed a tear or two.  He was elated, we were overjoyed for him, his wife and daughter were full of emotion (and probably relief!), and all of that happiness could not have happened without a small army of people willing to sit in the woods for hours at a time, watching mud-covered runners pass by lap, after lap, after lap.  Nobody achieves a race goal on their own.

If you're not in the habit of somehow thanking marshals during the race with a nod, smile, cheery word, wave, or some other friendly gesture, change your habit.  Give them something back to help them continue to enjoy helping you.  If you haven't volunteered at a race, look at all those medals and t-shirts you've collected.  Then get in touch with a local running club or race director and find out how you can help someone else achieve something special.  Helping someone surpass their own expectations will certainly give you some tools to use when it's your turn to push past your known limits.  I guarantee you'll gain something from helping out, and if you help at a race or distance you'd like to step up to, you'll learn a lot as well.

Snowdonia Marathon - Marathoneryri - a once-in-a-lifetime race?

This weekend, Nic and I joined our friends Roy and Chris for a relaxing run around Llanberis and surrounding villages, at the Snowdonia Marathon.  The story of why we were there goes back just over a year, to my failed attempt at a PB in the 2011 Abingdon Marathon.  And once we got there, we enjoyed what can only be described in a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Cast your mind back to October 2011, when I was disappointed that my body, while clearly in the best condition it ever had been in, failed me for a second year as I attempted to break 3:20.  I knew I needed to put a lot more focus on my core strength and add more long, fast running to my schedule.  Then, I had to write a few "for fun" races off my schedule while I recovered the minor niggles.  It's safe to say that I wasn't in the best frame of mind for scheduling a fast road marathon for the third straight year.

If we fast-forward slightly to January 1st, 2012, when I came back from a slightly "merry" 5k jog to clear the fog, I had a text from Roy notifying me that entries had opened, and would be closing very quickly indeed.  So, with both Nic and me still somewhat judgement-impaired from bringing in the New Year, we decided it would be a great first road marathon for Nic.  I decided that I'd had enough tilting at the 3:20 windmill and would enjoy doing a road race somewhere "just for the fun of it".

Then, the magical racing year that has been 2012 happened.  As part of my ultra preparation, I had increased the core work, added a 4th run to my standard running schedule, and was enjoying the benefits of consistent training.  By the end of August, every race I had run was either a course best (trail) or personal best (1mi, 1.3mi, 5km, 1/2mara). So, I started to look at 2011 Marathoneryri times from runners I know and compare against that 3:32 from Amsterdam to see if there was any chance of keeping my streak alive with another road PB.  I concluded that it would be tight, but possible, and put a little more work into finding a sustainable uphill running effort for the final hill of the race.  The idea of cracking my PB, set on a pancake-flat course, among the hills of Snowdonia struck me as the sort of convoluted achievement that I particularly enjoy.  After all, a PB is always nice, but setting it with an extra 2500ft of ascent is so much better!

Along comes race day, and everything is set - after a few flakes of snow overnight, the sun came up to bring that rarest of beasts, a cold, bright, and dry day.  Everyone was amazed - it was the first clear day the race had seen in many years.  The previous 4 had all been held in truly wretched conditions.  After my warm up (yes, even for a marathon!), I made a quick trip to the car to dig out the sunglasses to deal with that funny thing showing between the clouds.

What's that bright thing behind the mountain?

Heading to the start line - sunnies at Snowdonia?!?

It's only a road marathon - how hard can it be?
Nic was in charge of the camera today.

The race, in all, was an exercise in guesswork - there were no sections of the course where I could judge whether my pace would get me the time I wanted, because it's such an undulating route.  I started the first half mile slowly (8:30mm) and just kept an easy effort going to the bottom of the first hill.  As the road went down, the pace got faster, and when we hit the hill just after two miles, I just kept the rpms high and spun up like I would on a bike.  I removed my Buff, pushed up my sleeves, and unzipped my top and just kept ticking along.  Just after 4.6 miles, it was time for the downhill.  Barring a few interruptions to climb up some very small hills, that downhill lasted a good 8.5 miles.

Most road races don't boast views like this!

Totally unable to tell if I was running fast enough or too fast based on pace, I went for the logic of "if I'm hot, it's too fast".  I tried to keep my effort level just high enough to feel warm, using my sleeves, zip, Buff, and gloves to manage the changing effects of the sun and wind.  At half way, I was on 3:20 pace, which I knew was an unrealistic expectation because the second half has more ascent than the first half.  So, I mentally allowed myself a net 5-minute loss for the final hill, did my best not to lose too much on the steady drag from 13-15 miles (I lost 2 minutes), and kept repeating the mantra "every minute not lost is a minute off your PB!" for the 10km in between.  This is the bit where Nic got bored of running on the road, so I'm glad to have had a goal to help me keep focus.

Snowdon off in the distance

The climb at Waunfawr hurt, as expected.  Hamstrings and calves started to rebel, and eventually I was pushed to a speed-walk to use some different muscles and try to stretch out the screaming ones. The run-walk strategy got me up the hill and I finally got to enjoy the final descent into Llanberis, although I got a gentle reminder that the legs have to be as ready as the head when I clipped a rock on the trail and spent a few seconds on the ground.

Just a short burst down to Llanberis and it's all over!

With a mad sprint down the mountain for 1.3 miles, I clawed back enough of the walking time to finish in 163rd with 3:31:16 - 70 seconds faster than I'd run on the flat roads of the Dutch capitol.  Twisted, for sure, but also evidence that two years of (mostly) consistent marathon and ultra racing are really paying off.  A personal best on a course with 2500ft of climbing, a sunny day at the Snowdonia Marathon - it's a combination that will almost certainly never happen again.

2012 Hilly 100 Relay

Given almost two weeks to reflect on the race, one would hope that I'd have developed some deep insight into this year's instalment of one of my favourite events.  Alas, perhaps not....

The day, once again, started oh-so-very-early.  After 2011's fun, we decided that the race is easiest to manage if someone is following the baton, with a small band of dedicated family members and club runners acting as transport for the runners.  As a result, we needed to be at the start before 5:00.  Having made my final substitution of an injured runner the day before, I was a little twitchy when the alarm went off at 3:50.  By 4:30, I'd confirmed that the first 2 runners were in position and headed to the start line with super-crew-chief Nic relieved that I wouldn't have to stand in for the first leg.  My leg wasn't until the afternoon, to give me time to re-jig runners if needed, but I was happy to avoid the need for any last-minute shuffling.

The early birds ready for the start

When I sent in the entry form, I still didn't have a clear picture of the team.  April is marathon season, and people have a tendency to drop out with injuries and insufficient recovery.  With the list of ~15 runners, I knew at least a few wouldn't make it to the start - but I didn't know which ones.  Therefore, I entered the team in the earliest start time to make sure we finished well in advance of the 18:00 target deadline.  By the time the participant list had nearly solidified (3 days before the race), it was clear that we had a chance of a podium finish.

Any event that lasts for 13 hours will have its little incidents.  This year's Hilly was no different.  My leg 3 runner nearly missed the baton change by parking up about half a mile down the wrong road - we recovered her just in time.  The leg 4-5 transition point was perfectly placed to attract the attention (and wrath) of a local farmer who really didn't appreciate a load of runners parking in the drive to his farm.  A change in transition points confused the team captain (me) and resulted in a poor estimation, which had the leg 6 runner handing over to said team captain a bit behind schedule.  Add to that a great run by the leg 6 runner from Kenilworth, and I had my first 1-on-1 race in quite a long time (honours even - after a big effort to close the gap, he struggled to hold on in the final 5km and I regained our buffer).  Finally, 13 hours after the start, we confirmed that EVRC had successfully defended our 2011 B-race 3rd place (as well as defending our title as 1st mixed team).

Amazingly, we had knocked 39 minutes off last year's time.  I think we might just start at 6am next year - I look forward to the extra sleep!

While we were stopped to cheer on our runners, Nic took the opportunity to capture some of the sights that make this race such a joy.

Warming up - it took a long time to get the legs moving after all that "passenger-time".

Local asparagus - you can't beat it in season!

Red Kite Challenge and Ras y Diafol - a foray into proper fell racing

This weekend is a three-day one, due to the national holiday celebrating the first floods of the year (or possibly May Day, if you don't live near a river).  To celebrate the extra recovery time available, it is customary to put on stupidly difficult races.  In 2010, I ran my first trail marathon (Three Forts Challenge).  In 2011, I completed my final Endurancelife Coastal Trail Series marathon of the year at the inaugural Endurancelife Festival.  I can confidently say that the latter was the more difficult course.  I had planned to head back to Sussex to have another go at the Three Forts, but then I saw some of the other races available on the weekend.  Plan A was Malvern Ultra due to the lack of travel required.  However, once Nic was successfully putting away the training miles, we changed plans and set our sights on the Welsh Hills.  For this change of plans, I blame my good friend Roy.

Roy and I have been training together for a few years now.  If ever I want to find a new route, I ask Roy along.  We're a similar pace, like similar trails, and are equally good at finding "scenic" options to the path we're meant to be following.  He has been singing the praises of the Red Kite & Ras y Diafol (Devil's Race) for a year or two, and when Nic suggested that she get to choose a race for once, we decided to give it a shot.  On paper, the weekend shouldn't be too hard: 11 miles on Saturday, 17 miles on Sunday, ~5000ft of ascent combined.  It should be no more difficult than this year's CTS courses, so why not have a nice weekend running in the hills?  Day one takes place from the Red Kite visitor centre (great viewing of these amazing birds), and day two is just a few miles away.  Add to the fun that friends Roy, Chris, Ned, and Sheila were all running both days, and what could be more relaxing?

And then, of course, one pins on the race number and all thoughts of a relaxed and scenic run go out the window.  They are replaced by thoughts like "It's only 11 miles" and "race today and then worry about tomorrow when it comes".  Having tried to race last month's Exmoor ultra and come slightly unstuck, I decided to listen to the speed demon on my shoulder rather than the armchair angel.

Nic's picture from the Red Kite Challenge.

The Red Kite Challenge also happens to be the Welsh trail running championships, so the field is pretty handy.  A couple of local international-class runners turn up to have a wee sprint while the rest of us grind it out in their wake.

The race starts with a gentle run around the lake and then throws in a few modest climbs of between 100ft and 400ft, before giving us an amazing two-mile, 900ft descent.  I'm pretty sure this was the first time I had ever put two sub-6 miles into a race (I haven't even done that in a 5K!), and that was taking the hill with a fair amount of control to save something for the inevitable uphill.  It was an amazing feeling to be moving that quickly for an extended period.

Eventually, the down ended and we went straight back up out of the valley - another 800ft in a little under two miles of fast hiking with occasional runnable bits.  Upon reaching the top, my climbing muscles were in rebellion, but the race was over half-way finished.  The final five miles were gently undulating (little rolling 100-200ft ups and downs), which certainly kept the heart rate high as I tried to keep from losing too many places to the more practised fell runners.  A final sprint got me to the line in a reasonable time, but with not much energy left.  I was even too tired to eat any of the delicious-looking fruitcake on offer at the finish.

Nic finishing strong on Day 1
 (courtesy of Alastair Tye / www.fellrunningpictures.co.uk)

Once everyone had finished, we made for the tea shop and I joined the queue.  They must have run out of tea, because eventually we gave up on the lack of progress and headed back out onto the balcony to watch the kites and wait for the award ceremony.  Chris and Roy showed their experience by bringing a huge Thermos of hot water and sharing out some very warming coffee - saviours!

With prizes for the open race, Welsh race, and age groups, the prize-giving lasted for quite some time.  But, I'm glad we stayed because Nic picked up an age-group silver medal for her sterling effort!  Ned, Sheila, and Chris picked up age-group bronzes, and Roy and I won the opportunity to buy drinks in the pub later in the evening.

Day two was a bit more of a relaxed affair.  Only a fraction of the field come out to do the combined event, and a few people turn out just to do the longer run.  The plan on Saturday morning was to just take this as a recovery run, but once again the number got pinned to the chest and sense got left in the kit bag.  However, I had a pack on this time, so at least had the chance to take a few pictures on the run.

I'm sure that's the only hill we didn't run up!

The course starts fairly gently, with a short downhill and a steady uphill.  We were joined by some enthusiastic horses for a short time (somewhere just out of the picture).  Just before mile three, we began what seemed like a fairly innocuous climb and then turned into mountain-goat territory.  At this point, I started a game of hill leapfrog with Sheila that lasted nearly nine miles.  She would leave me for dust on the ups and I would catch her and try to gain some margin on the downs.

The challenge of the day was the two-mile, 1000ft climb up to nearly half-way.  As I dragged myself up the switchbacks, Roy caught up for a brief chat and Sheila pulled well clear.  I managed not to lose too many places with my relatively slow pace, but it was a huge effort to keep any pace at all.

At last, the long uphill was finished.

The hill finally ended with a short section through a wind farm.  It was amazing to pass so close to the majestic, near-silent drone of the blades as they slowly rotated.  From there, we had nearly three miles of descent broken by the occasional sharp hill during which to "recover".  I eventually caught up to Sheila again, just in time to ruin it all with yet another uphill section.  From 12.5 miles, it's essentially down hill to the finish.  Unfortunately, I slightly missed a step and jarred my right leg on some stairs.  By the time I reached 14 miles and the end of a long steep road, my right calf was objecting to the point of full cramp.  I'd been taking salt tablets to avoid cramp since I was dripping with sweat for much of the race, but obviously the calf didn't enjoy having to take up the slack for the muscles that suffered from the earlier misstep.  So, with a few stops to massage and stretch, I started to lose time properly.

The silly leg did ease up enough to get back up to a reasonable jog, but not before Roy caught me.  I could see the joy on his face from catching me at last, and wished him well (something encouraging like "carry on, because I'm going to try to catch you!").  It was the kick up the backside I needed to get back into a proper run.  It didn't feel great, but it also didn't feel like getting worse.

Although I struggled any time the ground was particularly rough, I could focus on chasing Roy.  I started to see more runners that I'd long-since passed lining up in the distance behind me, and that gave me even more encouragement to "man-up" and move faster.  That, for me, is one of the key differences between racing a run and just running it for the experience.  When I'm racing, finishing position matters.  When I'm running just against myself and the course, then the watch and the view are the arbiters of success.  I knew as we came into the last mile that I couldn't catch Roy (I'm sure he'd have died before letting go of the few hundred metres margin he built up).  But I also knew that I could keep the line of runners where they were - behind me.

As the line approached, I was 2nd in a loose group of three.  The runner behind me sprinted for the line with an energy that I certainly did not possess.  When the man in front didn't respond to his charge, I decided to give it a go and slowly ramped up into an ugly sprint.  This time, he responded - obviously he saw the state of me and decided he just couldn't lose to such a wreck.  We shouted each other to the finish in an epic battle against our rebellious legs.

It's all fun and games at the end of a great run. (courtesy of Alastair Tye)

It's laughable to watch two grown men struggle for the line in the middle of a race that was over so long ago that the winner had already showered, but at the time it seems like a good idea.  We finished in the same time, and I got the position on alphabetic ordering, but the photo shows he may have been a bit ahead.

Roy also had a sprint finish, just a few seconds earlier (courtesy of Alastair Tye)

The double-race weekend was tough, but was also a lot of fun.  It's great to share the race experience with friends, and two-day events double the pleasure.  Chris and Sheila picked up awards for the Ras y Diafol, and all three ladies won their age categories for the combined events.  I won a very fine bar of chocolate for completing both events, which was rather welcome on Monday afternoon when the munchies hit.  There are, as I said, a lot of great events on the May Day holiday weekend.  I think the others may take a back seat for a few years, because I have already pencilled a return to Wales for next year!

Chris and Ras y Diofl running partner Idris receive  Chris's age-group win award.
(courtesy of Alastair Tye)

Sheila and Ned with multiple awards, including Ras y Diafol 2nd lady
(courtesy of Alastair Tye)

Hampton Ferry Charity Race - the pain that is a 5K

Around this time each year, some of our local runners put on a small race along the banks of the Avon in aid of Diabetes UK.  This year, I was actually both home and fit and so had the opportunity to join in the fun.  Nearly 20 EVRC runners took part, so it was a very sociable, if nervy, atmosphere as many muttered about how much it hurts to race a 5K.  My last 5K was in 2010, so I wasn't quite sure how it would go.  Add in the fatigue of last week's ultra, and my race would be a bit of a lottery.

I don't really have space for a 5K in my ultra training, so I decided to put in a nice long warm-up and then top up after the race to at least get 10 in for the day.  At least I started off as loose as my body felt likely to get.  The goal was to start off aiming for sub-19 and find out how long I could hold on.  The start was quite quick as we tried to cross a field and hit the trail in line to avoid a bottleneck.  I finished the first mile dead on pace at 6:06 and knew I wouldn't be holding it much longer.  I managed to keep going at 6:21 pace for the rest of the race, until the obligatory sprint finish.  The brain kept asking for faster, but the body just wasn't moving efficiently enough to increase the speed.  My lungs felt set to burst, and my abs felt like someone was standing on me.  Within a minute or so of finishing, I felt human, but like I'd been beaten.

Only when I'd cooled down a bit after the race did I remember that I still had another four miles to run.  Since home was only a mile and a half away, I added some warm layers and headed off in the opposite direction to begin my long, very slow cool-down.  It wasn't pretty, but it was good training to put in some miles on a very tired body.  In the end, my 19:35 gave me a new PB by 14 seconds, which is pretty satisfying considering that I'd just completed my longest ever run just a week ago.

The Blackminster Half "Scorpion Run"- and an "accidental" PB

My friend Linzi and her husband decided at some point last year that they would organize a race in aid of local charities.  As it happened I didn't have a race planned, so I decided that the best way to support would be to take part.  Falling three weeks after the first trail marathon of the year and two weeks before the first ultra, I figured it would be a great chance at a speed session to keep the "go far, go slow" mentality at bay.  In light of recent improved performances, I briefly thought about trying to break the 90-minute goal that's been toying with me for the past few years.  Luckily, Nic reminded me that I'm naturally an idiot and should probably not have two focus races in the same month (who's the coach, now?).  The weekend before I kept to my training plan and put in my toughest back-to-back (23.5 & 10) so far.  With those sessions, the exhaustion-laced mid-week runs, a light head cold, and feeling totally wrecked the day before, I was pretty circumspect about how the race could pan out.

EVRC turned out in numbers for this excellent local race

On Sunday, I woke up feeling pretty reasonable.  The cold was shifting and the sun was shining (well, once it rose high enough).  I'd settled on a half-way house of a race plan to run as a goal-marathon-pace session, and then speed up in the second half if I felt OK.  When people asked what I had planned, I kept saying "I'll go with 7:15s and then see how it goes", or "1:35ish".  I'm not sure I believed it, but it was the sensible approach.  My strategy was to only show the lap time on my watch, and concentrate on keeping each lap effort in the right zone.  When Race Director Colin (Mr. Linzi) called all runners planning for sub-1:30, about 10 people headed for the line.  So, when I lined up behind them, I was unnaturally close to the starting line.  But, I kept in my head "7:15 for the first mile".

Sunny, yes, but not quite warm enough for  standing around in a vest

Then, of course, the horn sounds and off we go.  I saw 6:45 on the lap time after a few hundred yards and immediately eased off a bit.  I didn't really want to knock myself out after 8 miles, and I also didn't want to overcook any of my club-mates who had said they'd try to hold my announced pace with me.  The first mile included some nice gentle downward slopes, so I ended up with a 6:52 - just a bit faster than planned!  With deceptive gentle upward slopes for the next four miles, I eased back a bit but was still running sub 7:10.  It certainly helped to have plenty of friends and club-mates along the route cheering us all on.  The Day family mobile cheering service was especially appreciated - for a while, every half mile or so Roger and Maz were stopped by their bikes cheering us on.

The course started to ease back "downhill" (well, it's all pretty flat, really), but I was now in the "windy" section of the course.  Luckily, race day was calm for the breezy aerodrome area.  I tried to tuck in behind the only nearby runner for some shelter, but he was struggling.  So, I pressed on at a steady pace and he clung in behind me.  As we eased up yet another gentle slope, I kept the effort consistent and my drafting partner retook the lead.  This time, I stayed tucked in and kept there for about half a mile before he tired again and finally dropped off the pace.

Around the village of Marcliff, club-mate Ben had enough of my steady-effort method and pulled away up a hill to the cheers of his family.  We were approaching 8 miles, and I was nearly content to let him go.  I wasn't about to ruin my race plan by running someone else's race with another 5 miles to go.  He was obviously feeling pretty good, and I still had no idea how I was feeling.  Nothing hurt too much, but I wasn't exactly "in the groove".

We carried on through a nice flat section for a couple of miles before we approached the advertised "sting in the tail" - a short, sharp up followed by a steep down and then another short ascent.  It's the sort of topography that makes you look up and notice, but is perfectly manageable when you're used to the hilly trails.  I knew as this section came closer, if I could see Ben, then I could catch him on the steep descent.  Sure enough, half-way down I flew past Ben, gave him a thumbs-up of encouragement (I fully expected to see him again soon), and carried on down the hill.

Finally, with only two miles to go, I allowed myself to "race".  I pushed up the pace to make sure that Ben would have a struggle to catch me.  I was happy if he did pull out all the stops and beat me, but I saw no reason to make it easy!  At last, I felt like I was really running strong.  On the final section of the "sting", Nic was enjoying her official photographer role, sitting in the sun taking pictures.  She shouted encouragement as I smiled for the camera. 

Still smiling with just over a mile to go.

Once at the top of this last little hill, it was a little over half a mile down the hill and along the road to the finish.  I had no idea how far back Ben was, but I knew he was close enough from the encouragement he was receiving.  I had plenty of strength left, and just kept pushing the speed up all the way to the finish line.  On the final approach around the school field, I saw the clock and realized I had a good PB on the way and sprinted for all I was worth to burn off those few extra seconds.  I planted both feet on the chip mat to be sure the time was registered and gave Linzi a big hug of thanks for the great race.  I'm not sure she appreciated the sweaty embrace, but I hope the sentiment was well received!

A Run of Two Halves

Today was scheduled to be a real strain of a day - with the Not the Roman IX 12km road race followed by an easy trail half to get home.  The sun shone bright, the day was calm, cold, and crisp.  We got out early to have plenty of time for picking up chips & numbers, with a lift to the race from fellow EVRC runner Adam.  Planning to have a fairly quick race, Nic and I set out for a steady warm-up with 30 minutes to go before the start.

The race started fairly steadily, as I eased through the many runners who kindly started far too close to the front for their pace.  The first two miles are essentially flat with a few nice wobbles to keep it interesting.  Then comes the 1.5 mile steady climb, where those who overcooked the start generally pay for their mistake.  Two and a half miles of mostly downhill give plenty of time to pick up time.  Today, I enjoyed the speed, but seem to have aggravated my hip.  No problem during the race, but it certainly wasn't going to make for an easy jog home.  The final 2km are basically one-up-one-down.  Another chance to pick up places as legs began to tire. At about 1km to go, I realised that I had a small chance to break 50 minutes, so pushed a little harder than I'd planned.  After all, I'd be a bit annoyed if I didn't at least give it a shot in the final stages.  In the end, I was a few seconds too slow, but the finish was exhilarating from the effort.  It turns out that this was the fastest average pace I'd ever managed in anything over 5km.  It felt pretty fluid, so I'm over the moon with the result.

Once Nic had finished, Adam and I retrieved the kit from the car, including birthday cake (this race is the closest to my birthday, so it's nice to celebrate with friends).  Luckily, this year I avoided the sing-song and we dug straight into Nic's chocolate cake - delicious!

A quick change into dry tops and trail shoes and Nic and I started walking back home.  Once we felt a bit looser, we eased into a slow jog.  My hip didn't really feel like loosening up, so I decided to enjoy the sunshine and hope for the best.  The trail south from Stratford-upon-Avon covers some excellent scenery, and was generally quite good to run on.  But, after 9 miles, as we sat to change into road shoes in the hope of getting home faster (due to my dodgy hip - is it the ageing?), I decided to call it a day.  I'd been limping for miles, and I decided that at best, I was only going to end up properly injured with a series of marathons & ultras on the way.  Luckily, our fabulous neighbour Mark had arrived home just in time to come and rescue us.

Certainly, a run of two halves - first a surprising course PB for me (and a huge course PB for Nic).  Then, the body gave up the ghost before we finished our long, slow "cool-down".  Given the surprise of the morning, I think I'll just try to forget about the afternoon and carry on!

Weekend Doubles (including WAAA XC Championships)

Over the Christmas holidays, I realised that my ambitions and my schedule were at odds.  I've been happily running marathons on three training runs per week for around 18 months.  Last year, as usual, I had more two-run weeks than four-run weeks.  This year, though, I've got into my head that I want to do some trail ultras, starting with around 34 miles and working up to 100+.  Preparing for that on three runs a week just won't do - the weekday runs would take too long and would rather get in the way of staying awake at work.   So, I've bitten the proverbial bullet and will be interrupting my traditional Saturday long sleep and adding in a fourth run.  Standard fare for many, but a step I've been trying to avoid in an effort to keep some non-running down-time in my life.  We'll see how it goes.

This week, I got to put the theory to the test during a standard working week - no more holidays to provide extra recovery time.  Saturday, I did at least get the late wake-up, because the local county cross country championships weren't until the afternoon.  So, I woke up around sunrise (way too late in the morning at this time of year!), mooched about the house catching up on a few things, and then headed out for the afternoon of fun.  Last year, the race was tough and hilly.  The year before, the race was flat, icy, and horrible.  In both cases, I came away with a mildly injured right ankle/calf/Achilles combination.  So, this year, the goal was to enjoy racing and come home fit!

I'd like to say the race was really exciting and interesting.  But, from the back half of the pack, it was just a case of running hard, passing where possible, and trying not to fall into the canal where the course takes a sharp dip into a 90-degree turn (or a filthy swim!).  There was a nice, short hill to keep us on our toes.  A bit of mud here and there added to the challenge.  In the end, I managed to keep a very similar pace to last week's Festive Five, which is very pleasing.

At the front end of the field, of course, there was a bit more nip and tuck.  The EVRC Ladies definitely showed up, placing three in the top 10 and winning a team 2nd place.  The faster part of the Men's team put a consistent group in the high teens and 20s, giving them a 4th place.  From the pictures, and they certainly looked both fast and exhausted!  Then, I spent my evening feeling a bit rough from the effort and the cold air while planning the Sunday trail run with super crew chief Nicola, as she trains for her first (and second, and third) trail marathon(s).

Sunday, we decided to take in a part of the Cotswold Way that we've not been on before, from Cleeve Hill to Seven Springs.  I'd looked at the map a few times and decided it was a pretty easy route - one good long downhill and two really tough uphills to keep us company.  The nice thing about choosing a route based on the criteria of "I'd like to learn about that bit of trail" and "that's the right sort of distance" means that you don't always think through the ramifications.  So, it wasn't until I was speeding down the hill towards Dowdeswell Resevoir, that I realised we would have to get back up the beast on the way back.  Still, hills are great fun and there was no reason to worry just because I hadn't planned on a particularly tough day.  In the end, we put in nearly 16 miles and 2500ft of climb.

Theory tested, and it seems like a good way forward in the short term, I'd rather have a run-free day on the weekend.  We'll have to see how it all pans out over the next few weeks.

2011 - The Breakthrough Year

I started 2011 with high hopes.  My endurance was good, I had five tough trail marathons left in my Endurance life 7x Challenge, and nothing hurt too much.  The goal was to complete that series, hopefully pick up another marathon as a "bonus" for completing the challenge, throw in another in July to keep the legs ticking over, and then head into the Autumn on song for another PB on the road.  So, how did it go?

2011 Training:  Plenty planned, but to what end?

The first race of January was my annual tilt at the local cross country county championships (survival, rather than victory, is my goal!).  Once again, I had a lot of fun, and once again, I tweaked my calves.  It wasn't really a surprise, given that I don't do nearly enough speed work.  But, with a bit of rest, some good work by Sara to break up the knots and tape me back together, I duly headed off to Anglesey for marathon number 3.  I didn't have much fun, but I completed it. With the combination of the calf issues and recovery from Anglesey, I averaged a paltry 20 miles per week for January.

I also, for the first time in many years, had decided to keep an eye on my weight.  Once upon a time, I'd weigh myself to see if I had managed to put on a few pounds so that people stopped looking at me like some sort of underfed alley cat.  At Anglesey, I realised that the waistband of my Skins was folding over due to the pressure from the remains of Christmas and New Year revelry.  Ah, how times and metabolism change.  So, I weighed in at 11 stone (154lbs) and cut back on the beer (except for marathon recovery, of course!).

February took me to South Devon for marathon number 4.  The day shone bright and I had an absolutely wonderful race.  The joy of having a good race is that it usually takes less time to recover from than a bad race.  So, even with the planned recovery, I managed to nudge the weekly mileage up to 25.  I also managed to leave seven pounds on the trails.

March was planned as the tough month of the year, with marathons 5 and 6 with only one off weekend in between.  Pembrokeshire was fast, but exhausting.  Sussex was exhilarating until I had to tackle Beachy Head, and also rather tiring.  With two big races, much of the month was geared towards recovery and repair, so I dropped back to a weekly average of 20 miles.  Another couple of pounds melted away, and the Skins finally started to fit properly around the midriff.

In April, I only had one race planned, so I started to look at the upcoming calendar and realised I needed to re-introduce speed sessions to be prepared for the post-marathon season.  So, I headed out to the local race at Peopleton and picked up a small PB for that course.  Then, it was down to Exmoor for marathon number 7 - expected to be the toughest of the series.  By this time, the tape on my legs was more placebo than requirement, but I was taking even more recovery time.  I averaged only 17 miles per week and the weight finally stabilised at 144lbs (gross!).   But, the recovery of low/no mileage seemed to work.  Exmoor was an amazing race in a fantastic setting.  By the time we got home from the race, it was marked in the calendar for 2012.

May brought "The Edge," Endurancelife's bonus race for series completion and fast finishing.  The course was reasonable, I went off far too quickly, but the series of speakers in the evening was truly inspiring.  The mad ideas that have been going through my head ever since are slowly turning into a long-term plan for foolishness.   May also brought the annual club team relay at The Hilly Hundred.  As the team organisers, Nic and I bombed about the countryside delivering and cheering the runners.  I enjoyed my leg, albeit somewhat more slowly than I had in 2009.  Again, weekly mileage was low, but mostly because real life took its chance to get in the way of some good running.

June's schedule rapidly filled up with some short local races, as I tried to get some speed into my legs.  A couple of hilly midweek dashes and another hilly relay later, combined with some hot weather training during a trip home to Texas, and I was back to 25 miles per week.  The weight was still steady (a great result considering a trip to the US!), and I was looking forward to my first experience of running in the Lake District.

I started July with a rather warm Coniston Marathon, and followed it up with some great hiking in the Appalachians.  No running in the mountains this year, on account of the amount of falling down I did the previous year.  We headed to the Atlantic coast for a week of R&R and beach running, which just managed to keep the excellent Atlantic seafood from taking hold.

August was due to be another big month.  Not having any big racing planned, and with a hole in my schedule until the October PB attempt, I mentally slipped and added a solo ultra into the schedule.  The attempt to hit nearly 50 miles turned into 50km as I repeatedly lost my trail and eventually was so hacked off by the combination of weak mind and tiring body that I bailed out at the earliest of my potential finishing points.

September slipped by without much notice.  I was finally managing regular speed sessions.  My race-paced runs were actually going better than planned.  Weekly mileage was still hanging out in the mid-20s.  October's PB attempt at Abingdon was looking pretty feasible.

Of course, there's always one last speed session required to tune up for a big race, so I popped over to Stourport for their 10K the first Sunday in October, and got to within a few seconds of my PB - completely unexpected and a most welcome mental boost for the trip to Abingdon a couple of weeks later.  Then, just a few days before the big day, a business trip that involved 90 minutes of traffic and a stiff clutch resulted in nasty cramp in the glutes with 5 miles to go after 21 miles of staying dead on schedule.

The PB didn't happen, my butt is still not fully recovered, and November was a bit of a write-off.  The various fell runs I had pencilled into the training plan got rubbed out, and training is still a bit hit-or-miss, depending on which days the glutes decided to go on strike.  Sara steadily put me back together, and I joined some fellow club members in Shropshire for the Mortimer Forest 10.  It was a blast to get back into the mud and hills as Winter approached.

As a bonus, my running clubmates kindly recognized my inability to say no to a race in our annual awards ceremony.

A lot going on, but to what end?  With the loss of November and the extra recovery between marathons, not to mention a bit more travel time than usual, 2011 will actually have fewer running miles than 2010.  But, what miles!  Most of my running has been in the Cotswolds or racing other stunning trails around the UK.  Of course, 2011 was unusually dry, so I actually got to see where I was going - let's not fool ourselves into thinking it will be the same every year.  As a result of all this fun, Nic's signed herself up for a few Endurancelife marathons, which gives me the ideal excuse to bump myself up to the ultras.  If that goes well, then I may just get that chance to run the complete Cotswold Way this Summer.  2011 seemed incredibly ambitious when I planned it, but it looks like it's main purpose was to whet my appetite for 2012.