2011 Hilly Hundred Relay

Last weekend saw the Evesham Vale Running Club's (unlikelly) attempt to retain our Hilly Hundred "B-Race" trophy.  The Hilly Hundred is a 10x~10mile relay race around the Northern Cotswolds.  Unlike 2010, we managed to get enough volunteers to field two teams.  The "A" team's goal was to achieve a credible top-5 challenge, and the "B" team's goal was to run hard and enjoy the fun of a really enjoyable event.

After the 2010 event, Nic and I decided we would give our team's captain a break and organize the club's entry.  As a bonus, Robert Hale (the captain for the previous two years) was freed up to race in the B team.  Well, I call it a bonus, because he had claimed that it looked like fun.  So, with Nic acting as crew chief for the A team, and Mitch - the club's most experienced ultra man - crewing the B team, we gathered in Stratford-upon-Avon at 4:45AM for the start of a long day.

4:59AM, and raring to go!

It felt quite surreal getting to the line for the 5AM start, knowing I wouldn't be taking the baton until a little after noon.  The race was about to start, and I didn't even have my running shoes on!  It just didn't feel quite right.

The morning was dry (heavy rain stopped at around 3AM), cool, and fairly calm, although by 6:00, the wind became pretty fierce.  We cheered the runners out of Stratford and drove down the course, stopping periodically to encourage our runners.  After most hand-overs, we returned to drop the finisher to the start of their leg where their car was parked.  Then, Nic zipped along the country lanes to catch the next runner so we could cheer them on and do it all over again.  We didn't manage to catch up to everyone before they finished, but Nic certainly enjoyed the challenge!

Early sunshine over the lavender fields at Snowshill

As my leg approached, we took a break from crewing, spelled by the Day family (the two sisters ran in succession, supported by their parents).  It was great to have a break from the car to get warmed up and ready to run.  By the time I started, we were 60 miles into the race, about 6 minutes ahead of the host club, and well in the lead of those teams starting at 5:00.  Because there are two starts for the B-Race (5:00 & 6:00), we had no idea how we were doing against the later starters.  But, I knew that we would be fighting for third or fourth overall unless something dramatic happened again this year.  So, ignoring the comfort of the lead, I ran at what seemed an unsustainable effort level compared to the past few months of racing. 

What is it about competition that makes a slow trail runner want to take the baton on the run?

I tried to keep my heart rate at around 165 (below 90%).  But, I felt I was going too slowly, so went with by "feel" and kept it at around 170, until I took off the strap at 7 miles and passed it to Nic - I was breathing too hard to put up with the constriction.  I finished my leg barely able to stand, as had all the others, and was happy that I'd left everything on the road. 

Luckily, there were some bollards at the end to help keep me upright!

 
While Nic popped off to buy some chocolate, I took what felt like hours to take off my shoes and put on some warm clothes.  Then we popped back out onto the course to continue our duties as crew and cheerleaders.

The sun came out in force to warm things up, which was very convenient as I ducked behind a hedge to put on my compression tights - not really the sort of activity to be done on the main road!  Nic put the top down on the car and we continued to shout encouragement, provide drinks, and generally keep our runners buoyed up as the fatigue set in. 

A sunny day in paradise - if you're not running into the wind!

Our final racer crossed the line in second, having been caught in the end by the A-Race winners from Kenilworth AC (who set out 2 hours after us!).  Amazingly, he finished exactly on the estimated finish time of 17:30.  All of the runners who had either exceeded or trailed the guestimate I made to help everyone get to their leg on time had somehow balanced out within less than 60 seconds over the 12.5 hours.  We then began the agonizing wait to see how many B-Race teams from the 6AM start finished before 18:30.  If it was fewer than three, we would have our "podium" place. 

All the while, I was getting updates of our B team, who were struggling a bit with the conditions.  Because they would be taking more time anyway, more of the runners were having to face the ever-increasing wind and sunshine.  Although they were a little behind schedule, they were managing very well.  Only Robert managed to miss a turn (there were also a few lost runners from other teams, so we may stop making fun of him by January).

The wait for the other teams to finish was a lot of fun.  The atmosphere at the finish line, as more competitors arrived to cheer in their runner, was lively and excited.  We made sure that our hosts had good takings from the bar, and I checked and rechecked until 18:30 to see where things lay. 

In the end, the A team came in a very respectable third, and the B team finished without serious incident and with a few smiles amongst the grimaces of pain.  I vowed never to be in charge of getting 20 runners through this race again.  It was an exhausting day.  The problem is that I spent most of the day full of pride and admiration in all of the competitors - and it's a pretty tough feeling to beat.  It was one of the most enjoyable days out I've had in a long time.  So, I'm fairly certain that my vow won't last for very long at all.

Endurancelife CTS Final - "The Edge"

At last, the final marathon of my eight-month challenge has come and gone.  Endurancelife called their final race of the series "The Edge".  Did it takes us to the edge of a cliff, the edge of our wits, or perhaps just the edge of reason?  I'm not sure, but it certainly took me to the edge of my limits.

The location for this grand final was the Flete Estate in South Devon.  The estate takes in the entire Erme Estuary, and is an all-round beautiful area.  It's also quite hilly (no surprise, really).  Not big, long, eye-watering hills.  Just short, very steep, break your rhythm and leave you a bit wobbly hills.  When we arrived at race HQ on Friday to set up our tent, James Heraty from Endurancelife greeted us with, "I've only got two words for you: Beacon Hill!".  Of course, the route map was being held back in surprise until race day, so I had no idea what to expect.  Once the tent was up, though, we pulled out the OS map and found it.  It looked manageable at 100m of climb, except that it was in less than 200m of distance.  Still, it was only one hill, and short enough to grunt your way up.

With the knowledge that James's famous hill was nothing worse than some of my normal training runs (turns out it was a bit tougher than that), I waited impatiently for the unveiling of the route.  We went for a short walk, found the finish route straight up the hill from the Erme, and sat to watch our fellow campers put up their tents.  Our new tent-neighbour Lucy provided a bit of entertainment with an enormous tent by arriving just as the rain started.  Eventually, a few of us realized that she was never going to put it up with the increasing deluge and helped to make it as water-tight as possible (turns out we failed and she had to bail out parts of it in the morning).

Following a wet Friday night's camping, Saturday dawned sunny-ish and warm and great for trail racing.  Due to the tides, we had a late start.  For the first time in a while, I had a leisurely start to race day.  With plenty of time due to the late start and overnight within 100m of the start, I was feeling relatively chilled.  Finally, the route map was revealed, and I saw the maximum height of 350m and relaxed.  As CTS races go, this one was going to be reasonably flat.

Off and running for the last time this series.

A downhill start got things off at a good pace, and I was ticking along very nicely.  I knew my heart rate was too high, and tried to ease back to let it drop.  But, with little rolling hills to keep the rate up, it was a few miles before I managed to keep consistently in the mid-to-low 150s.

Nice scenery to help the early miles tick over.

A nice jaunt along the beach to help get the blood moving.

Beacon Hill turned out to be steeper than I'd expected, but a fast hike got it out of the way without too much fuss.  Of course, when I tried to run again at the top, my legs were like jelly - perhaps I hiked up it a bit too fast!

Is that Beacon Hill?

Here comes Beacon Hill

See, it's not that big!

At this stage, I realized from chatting with the runners around me that I might be in for a tough race.  With a smaller field than usual, I had fewer slower runners in front of me to block me on the narrow bits and help me keep from going out too fast.  At 5 miles, I was running with the women's leaders.  I normally come in a bit behind the 3rd woman, but I was up with the winner of the last race.  Still, with the steep downhills from 5-9 miles, I managed to keep in touch even though I was consciously easing back away from such exhalted company.  I know my place (and pace), and it should have been further back in the field!

Hmm. Those ladies are a bit too fast for me.  How'd that happen?

Efford House in the backdrop at the checkpoint

From 9-14 miles the course was essentially flat through the Estate's woodland paths.  I tried to get some pictures of the rhododendrons and bluebells, but only got green blur as I passed.  I gently eased back away from the sharp end of the race and made a serious effort to allow some recovery before the hilly second half came upon me.  The effort wasn't enough.  At 14 miles, I trudged up the hill from the estuary and woodlands and just kept feeling less energetic with each step.  All of the niggles I'd picked up in Sussex and Exmoor started to show up.  I could tell that the legs were willing, but not at a particularly challenging pace.  By 15 miles, at the course high point, I had to have a long walk to eat and wait for the energy to rebuild.

At least when you're walking you can take pictures of the pretty flowers...

Some downhills helped get my legs moving again until we reached the beach at Bigbury-on-Sea.  With the tides out, we were able to run the beach around the point instead of up and over it.

I wasn't particularly relishing more sandy beach after the early races, but the sand was generally firm and good for running.  I started to feel a bit more energetic again and got back down to 8-minute miling along the beach. 

Hurrah, firm sand and fast (or less slow) running!

Then came the nasty five miles of short-sharp hills to the finish.  Each hill was only 70-100m high, but they were on 1:4 to 1:8 gradients - not what you need to climb after 21 miles.  Fortunately, the downhills were similarly graded, so I was able to keep up a reasonable average pace.

Now that is a hill.  The path zig-zags up it, because it's just too steep for a straight-on assault.

Eventually, I got to the "One mile to go!" sign (lying by about .7 miles) and knew there was only the river crossing and short hill up from the bank left between me and a well-earned beer.  The river crossing was energizing - the tide was out, so the water that remained was only about a foot deep, and a few steps wide in three or four channels.  Splashing through the cold, clear water felt wonderful on my tired feet.  Then I climbed up the road and prepared for one last push to the finish.  Then the marshal said "turn right".  At some point between the start and reaching this point, the course had been re-routed off this little section of road and back up the path we started on - that nice long downhill start.  With an extra half mile of technical trail before the interminable hill to the finish (well, that's how it felt, in spite of being entirely runnable without 27 miles in the legs), my remaining energy dropped away like a stone and I plodded away until the final trot to the line.

All in all, the race itself was very hard.  I spent the last half of it feeling like I was dragging myself along, even though I was keeping on roughly the same average speed as the previous race.  My poor pace control at the start meant I suffered for longer than usual - entirely my own fault.  But, as long as there were hills around, I knew I wasn't going to struggle any more than anyone else - a strange comfort.  It was probably one more marathon than was sensible, so now it's time to relax and recover.

The CTS series was a fantastic challenge, and I hope I can get my head around it as a whole event.  Having made it to the end, I'm actually tired enough to have found myself happy today that I've got a 9-day no-run period in my training schedule.  It's been a while since I last looked at a rest period with anything other than frustration, so I guess I'd better enjoy it!

Support crew Nic, who did 4 of the halfs this series.  Thank you!

How much training is really necessary?

I was having a short chat on tonight's club run that got me thinking - how much training is really necessary to enjoy running a marathon?  From the short review of those around, it's not that much at all.

For my first marathon, I had a pretty solid training schedule for the first few months.  I don't have a log of it, but I'm pretty sure I was out 4-5 days per week, with long runs into the high teens.  Then I pulled a muscle walking into town and was out for a few months, strapped up my leg, and ran it anyway.  More than just a little stupid, but before the injury I figure I was clocking 30-40 miles per week.  (The scar tissue is still a bit of a problem now, due to the moronic need to complete the race)

The second time around, I was very conscious of the pain of the first time.  So, I picked up a Runner's World plan and was up to 40-50 miles per week, enjoyed the race (still the only marathon I've ever run all the way), and was forced to promise never to run another marathon again because I was spending so much time and energy in training.

In the past 12 months, I've run 9 marathons - 1 road and 8 trail, with less training than I ever thought possible.  Most of the success is down to reading that 1) 3 days per week is enough if you plan well; 2) making good use of recovery aids like massage, targeted nutrition, and compression; and 3) plenty of good luck. 

I remember a teacher from High School constantly pushed us to "work smarter, not harder", and have taken that concept on board in the past two years. Primarily, I've done this because I only get away with all of my running fun because I allow social activities and family time to interact with my training schedule.  The early forays into marathon training were more about running and sleeping than about fitting running into my life.  But, a secondary reason to spend less time on the run is that I just kept injuring myself.  The more time I spent running, the more frequently I seemed to need to spend waiting for something to heal.

So, what's my weekly schedule like?  1 long run, 1 medium run, 1 short run.  If I'm not preparing for a road marathon, then all of the long runs are on the trails.  If I've got a fast time in my sights, then half of them are on the road.  The other two are either tempo or the occasional long reps (away from races), social (most Monday nights), or  psychological refreshment (run whatever pace, anywhere, but just get out).  Most weekdays, I spend 15-20 minutes doing some core work and general body-weight strengthening.  That's it.  I like to think that the other 4 days are scheduled as "recovery".

Stats-wise, that equates to an average weekly mileage of fewer than 25 since January 2010. Over that time, only 1 in 4 weeks has been 30+ miles, and only 1 week over 40.  I regularly preach that recovery is a key part of training, but hadn't quite realized how much I had taken it to heart.  It will be interesting to see what I can do to squeeze in some extra miles once I've finished the constant cycle of marathon, recover, rebuild.

Endurancelife CTS Exmoor Marathon

They said it would be hard.  All of the reviews talked about the hills.  All of the people I'd met who'd run it before cursed the big hill at the start.  Nothing could have prepared me for a race this tough - except for the six races that came before.

I spent quite a few hours thinking about how this would go.

Since the return from Sussex, I'd spent most of my time feeling pretty good about Exmoor, unless I happened to be looking at the course profile.  This race would carry on to the West of last year's Seaview 17 course.  I know the area a little already, and know it is hilly and has very changeable weather.  So, I packed one of everything, added some extra food to the pack in case it turned into a long, slow hike, and headed for Devon.

Race prep had gone pretty well, except for the week off before-hand to let some muscle strains ease off.  A very tight hamstring was almost certainly the result of trying out some new shoes the week after Sussex.  The shoes feel fast, secure, and generally wonderful.  Unfortunately, I felt so great that I probably over-egged the run and then compounded the niggles by racing at Peopleton the following weekend.  But, with 5 days' recovery, loads of carbs in the days before, and some Kinesio taping from Sara, I was ready to go.  Nic was taking this race off, so was able to enjoy a walk along some of the course with her camera.  The best pics are generally hers.

Happy and cool at the start.

The race starts in the Heddon Valley. After a nice half-mile warm-up by the stream, the course goes UP.
  Steep climbing, occasional stairs, and lots of panting make up the first mile of climbing.  I thought I was taking it easy, but the air was so heavy that sweat just started to drip down my face.  So, I kept not hurrying along and enjoyed the camaraderie of the back of the pack.

That's the first climb - but we don't take the direct route, we take 3 miles to get there...

Back in the pack, we're in no hurry.

After what felt like hours, but was only about 10 minutes, the course levelled off a little into gentle undulations along the coastal face of the hills.  The views down to the sea were nice, but the path was narrow enough that it wasn't really worth the risk to take them in.

Don't look down!

On those occasions when I did look around, I noticed that the gorse bushes were in fine colour.  I like gorse in flower, in part because it reminds me of running in Edinburgh in the '90s when I was a student.  So, it was a pleasant diversion to see such vibrant yellow on a grey morning.

Eventually, we topped out on Holdstone Down, passing through the low cloud that hovered for the first 10 miles or so.  At 4.2 miles, that was the last time I saw the pack.  From the top of the hill, the course took an enjoyable three-mile descent back to the stream.  Some of the downhill was fast and technical, some was just free-flowing and comfortable.  Either way, by the time I headed up the other side of the valley, the pack had turned into a long, broken line.

The low cloud hugging the hilltops early in the day.

For the next few miles, the trails and roads passed comfortably.  The clouds stayed low, keeping things cool and muggy, while I experienced something very new to my trail running.  I kept finding that I was able to run up nearly all of the hills!  I wasn't running quickly, for sure, but it was much faster than walking.  By not having to stop to hike too often, the miles just seemed to slip away.

Lee Abbey

Before I knew it, I was nearing the half way point around Lee Abbey.  Lee Bay and the renovated Abbey complex nestle into a plush green landscape.  I enjoyed trying to take pictures as I ran along a good path.  The views were quite pleasant until I rounded a corner and could see what some trees had been obscuring - a slight turn to the right.

After I stopped admiring the Abbey and its grounds, I realized we were about to head UP!

So much for the sensation of covering the hills at a reasonable pace!  I put my head down, my hands above my knees, and used just about every muscle to push my way up the path.

Those two specs at the top are runners.

Now Lee Abbey and Lee Bay look very picturesque, indeed!

During the climb, I occasionally had the chance to hold up the camera to take in the increasingly impressive view.  After all, I wasn't moving quickly enough to worry about falling over.  Lynton's famous goats provided some amusement.  They looked on, unimpressed, while I looked back envious of their climbing skills.

Goats sunning on the rocks

The big black goat decided to eat a tree while I hiked past.

Finally, at the top of The Valley of Rocks, we turned down the hill towards Lynton.  The sun finally dispersed the clouds.  Once again, the terrain changed from steep to manageable.

The mist and low cloud burned off at about half way.

Gorse in full bloom looks great and smells of coconut tanning lotion.

The course took us down the back lanes of Lynton, which are lined with quaint country cottages.  It seemed like quite a nice town, if rather steeply set - I only saw flashes of colour on the way down.  From Lynton, we followed the Two Moors Way towards the third checkpoint at 17 miles.  I started to wonder how much water I had left in my pack.  The plan was to carry a bit less than usual and refill at 17 miles, because the warm weather would have required a rather heavy 2 litres.

The checkpoint came after a nice long descent, and I arrived feeling good and still unsure about how much water I had left.  As I punched in, I realized that quite a few other runners must have had the same plan.  There was a small wait to refill water bladders, and the queue included a couple of people I normally finish near.  I quickly weighed up my options, realized that I was running comparatively faster than in any other race of the series, downed a cup of water, and shot off down the trail.  I figured that the next checkpoint was 7 miles away, and I could, at need, run the rest of the route without more water, so I would refill at 24 and try to gain my best finish placing on what is rated as the most difficult course.  A bit mad, I know, but this revised plan gave me a boost and, for the first time all series, I treated the remaining course as a race.

Oh, yeah, Countisbury is on a really steep and nasty hill!

Then came Countisbury Hill.  I'd managed to forget about this blight on the course map!  In truth, the climb up to Countisbury is visually impressive.  When you're in the mood to race, though, it's a real killer.  For the final time on the day, I stomped up a hill with a forward lean to avoid falling backwards.  The hill is only 3/4 of a mile long, but is unpleasantly steep.  The climb took me straight back to the painful memories of the climb out of Portlock in the Seaview 17.

Half-way up!

The Blue Bull Inn - now I've joined up to July's course.

Nearing the top of the hill, we briefly joined the road and staggered past the Blue Bull.  This time, unlike last year, I could at least see the pub from the other side of the street.  It would have been a fabulous day to sit out with a pint, but there were still nine miles of racing ahead.  So, I trudged on until we reached the top and then worked back up to a run.  It wasn't long before the 1.5 mile descent to the course's low point at Lynmouth.

What goes up goes quickly down!

The descent to Lynmouth took in some spectacular views as well as some very narrow and technical paths.  Having decided to aim for a good placing, I kept my eyes on the trail and tried to maintain a good pace.  The mind was willing, and the legs didn't seem to mind too much, but the water began to run out.  Alas, it happened about 20 minutes earlier than I expected - the result of the long, hot climb up to Countisbury.

Full sun makes for some great views

As usual at 21-22 miles, I began to struggle.  In comparison to some other events, like Pembrokeshire, this was more of a curb than a wall.  I knew that, if I could get to the final check point with any energy left, I would be able to keep it together until the finish.  Luckily, I managed to sync in with one of the early starters, and we egged each other on up the hills and chased each other down them.  At the check point, I was able to quickly refill my bladder - no queues this time - and carry on into the final miles.

I was so focused I didn't even see the waterfall - luckily Nic was paying more attention!

Because I'd been getting regularly disoriented in the previous races, I carried a picture of the course profile to remind myself of the final miles.  I confirmed that I only had a couple of small climbs left before the long downhill finish.  So, I pushed as hard as I could up the hills (still pretty slow by this point), knowing it was nearly over.

Nic's favourite view of the day.

A final look around before dropping to the finish.

The long downhill was a joy, with a few early starters kindly moving aside as I ran as fast as the trails and my legs would allow.  It opened onto a nice wide trail for the final half mile, with a small stinger of a hill just a few hundred yards from the line.  That little hill kicked me back into a fast hike for a few yards, until I gathered enough energy to run full pelt to its mini-peak and down into the finish. 

A big smile and fast finish to end the 7x Challenge!

The rush of a final "sprint" felt great, but once I crossed the line I staggered through the de-registration tent and sprawled out on a grassy bank.  I finished the race, and the 7x Challenge, with a flourish, and felt every one of the 192 race miles in my legs.  The Exmoor event is rated as the toughest in the series, and I agree that it was a very difficult course.  But, with the training and experience for the previous six races behind me, I ran my fourth-fastest pace of the seven.

A few medals to add to the collection!

The Endurancelife Coastal Trail Series has a final.  To qualify, one has to either complete the 7x Challenge, finish one of the races in the top 20%, or get a lucky lottery place based on completing one of the races.  When I entered this year, I had a pipe dream (or maybe wine-induced hallucination) that I might be able to qualify in all 3 ways.  I was pretty sure I could survive all seven races, and assumed that seven entries into the lottery would give me a good chance, but that qualifying by speed would require a lot of people to fail to show up.  In the end, that final sprint finish gave me the placing I needed by less than a minute.  So, that little pipe dream has come true.