Looking back through the recent posts (what recent posts??), it's pretty clear I've not run much since August. To get an idea of what I've been up to, imagine my non-existent posts entitled "Ouch, Cross-country hurts this year!" and "How to injure yourself while out shopping for paint." The rebuild since December has been long and tortuous, but last week I passed my self-imposed fitness test and can happily declare that I'm back to running properly again. The test, as it happens, was to run the Moray Coastal Trail that I'd attempted last June (see the post for the first attempt to learn how not to prepare for a long run).
Showing posts with label ultramarathon training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ultramarathon training. Show all posts
Monday, 25 April 2016
Tuesday, 23 June 2015
The Moray Coastal Trail - Attempt 1 of ???: How not to prepare for a long run.
I've enjoyed a reasonable amount of time on parts of the Moray Coastal Trail over the past few years. The sections around Lossiemouth are some of Nic's favourite beach runs in the country. On our last visit to the area, I discovered that it's a temptingly short/long 45ish miles, and hatched a plan to find a way to get out and run the whole thing.
Plans, as one often hears, have a way of going awry.
Plans, as one often hears, have a way of going awry.
Thursday, 5 February 2015
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!
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).
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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)
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
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. |
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| 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. |
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| Raven Lake looking good in the sun on Nic's run |
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| 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. |
 |
| 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
Wednesday, 30 July 2014
Thunder Run 2014: Trail training at its most fun
We all enter races for different reasons: to get a PB, to run somewhere new, to test our mettle, because a friend tricked us into it after a few too many drinks (and then somehow found a reason not to run...), for a hard training run, or sometimes just for a bit of fun. The Cotswold Running trip to Catton Park for the 2014 Thunder Run was certainly designed to be fun, but it also gave an opportunity for some of our regular volunteers to get involved in a long and exhausting run with friends.
We arrived on Friday evening, hoping to enjoy a relaxed evening of camping and scope out the scene. As it was Friday, the M42 was particularly stationary, so instead we arrived, put up the tent, got everything unloaded, and promptly put our feet up. The camp site was vast, so wandering around and catching up with people suddenly looked an exhausting venture compared to eating dinner and "planning" our race. I attempted an early-ish night by hitting the hay at 11:30, but sleep wasn't on the cards. Camping can be relaxing, but with several hundred people within easy earshot, sleep can be hard to come by even with earplugs. Still, 4 hours sleep is better than none.
The race-morning mood was a bit of a mixed bag. I had the first leg, so was quite focused on when/what to eat that would stay down on a very hot 10K run. In total contrast, Mitch was not running until his graveyard shift, so was trying to keep from going stir crazy. In between, everyone was somewhere between gearing up and enjoying a relaxed morning with family & friends.
The morning started warm and sunny, and made its way quickly to very hot (~28-30C). Given my problems lately with overheating, I was particularly curious (i.e. concerned, worried, nervous, bricking it just a bit) about how I would cope racing hard in the heat. I knew it would only be for around 50 minutes, but such trivialities don't really come into it when you've suddenly found yourself doing badly at something you did quite well until recently. I made sure to get properly hot & sweaty in my warm-up, so that sudden exhaustion that comes when you start exercising in the heat was out of the way before the race. I arrived at the start line already drenched and ready to race.
Eventually, the race started and I was off and running. Amazingly, the vast majority of runners actually lined up roughly according to their expected time for the 10K lap. I had guestimated my lap would take 50 minutes, but was planning to run on feel at something harder than 1/2 marathon effort but slightly easier than if I'd only been doing one 10K that day. I found myself steadily working through the crowd and maintaining a fairly consistent pace of just under 5 minutes per KM.
The Thunder Run route is a bit hilly, but it's also very twisty-turny. In some places, I'm sure we ran a mile to move 50 metres along the campsite. The woody sections have plenty of trip hazards to keep you on your toes (or face), and the occasional tight turn to find a tree in the middle of your path certainly make for added excitement.
The atmosphere as we wound our way in and out of the campsite was electric, and it took a lot of concentration to avoid just blasting off with excitement. I did occasionally have the chance for a brief chat with other runners, including Steve from our neighbouring club in Pershore.
The early afternoon sun burned hot, and I'm pretty sure the medical crew had plenty of heat-related illness to deal with. After my first lap, I felt pretty wrecked, and it took about half an hour before people stopped looking at me like I might fall out of my chair at any time. After a good stretch, a tasty light lunch, and plenty of fluids, though, I felt pretty good and enjoyed my turns as support crew & childminder. Jill took the second lap, and paced it a bit closer to a full 10K effort, which resulted in an excellent first lap time (50'), but over an hour of everyone giving her that same concerned look. After that, everyone else wound it back in a bit to avoid being the first in the team to properly pass out.
My race plan continued, with my 4x10K reps concept working much better than I'd expected, with less than a minute difference in the first 3 times. After my 3rd (finishing at 1am), I neglected my post-lap refuelling in order to crawl into my sleeping bag, which seemed so inviting. I felt the difference on my morning lap, and started to bonk a bit, which meant I dropped a couple of minutes when I couldn't really speed up through the final 5K as I had in the other laps. I learned a lot about areas of my post-run recovery that I could improve on in my normal training weeks (like, actually pay attention to it like I did once upon a time).
For the others, the result was equally useful. Jill and Caroline did their first ever nighttime trail racing. Linzi got in some good tired-legs effort with a blast in her final lap. Nic reconnected with racing (as opposed to running in an event), Rohan and Paul did one lap more than they had previously, and Mitch found out that he's still a bit tired after Endure 24 (duh!).
Most importantly, though, we also had a lot of fun. The kids went home as tired as their parents, having had a weekend of camping, playing, cheering, and generally being a delightful distraction from aching muscles and blisters. Caroline's husband, Andy, got in some running, and Charmaine seemed to spend most of the weekend walking with camera in hand (you can see her pictures here). Next year, hopefully we'll be able to get a few more from EVRC to come out and make up some club teams.
We arrived on Friday evening, hoping to enjoy a relaxed evening of camping and scope out the scene. As it was Friday, the M42 was particularly stationary, so instead we arrived, put up the tent, got everything unloaded, and promptly put our feet up. The camp site was vast, so wandering around and catching up with people suddenly looked an exhausting venture compared to eating dinner and "planning" our race. I attempted an early-ish night by hitting the hay at 11:30, but sleep wasn't on the cards. Camping can be relaxing, but with several hundred people within easy earshot, sleep can be hard to come by even with earplugs. Still, 4 hours sleep is better than none.
The race-morning mood was a bit of a mixed bag. I had the first leg, so was quite focused on when/what to eat that would stay down on a very hot 10K run. In total contrast, Mitch was not running until his graveyard shift, so was trying to keep from going stir crazy. In between, everyone was somewhere between gearing up and enjoying a relaxed morning with family & friends.
 |
| Team Revolution: Jill, Mitch, Nic, Kurt, Linzi, Rohan, Caroline, Paul |
Eventually, the race started and I was off and running. Amazingly, the vast majority of runners actually lined up roughly according to their expected time for the 10K lap. I had guestimated my lap would take 50 minutes, but was planning to run on feel at something harder than 1/2 marathon effort but slightly easier than if I'd only been doing one 10K that day. I found myself steadily working through the crowd and maintaining a fairly consistent pace of just under 5 minutes per KM.
The Thunder Run route is a bit hilly, but it's also very twisty-turny. In some places, I'm sure we ran a mile to move 50 metres along the campsite. The woody sections have plenty of trip hazards to keep you on your toes (or face), and the occasional tight turn to find a tree in the middle of your path certainly make for added excitement.
The atmosphere as we wound our way in and out of the campsite was electric, and it took a lot of concentration to avoid just blasting off with excitement. I did occasionally have the chance for a brief chat with other runners, including Steve from our neighbouring club in Pershore.
The early afternoon sun burned hot, and I'm pretty sure the medical crew had plenty of heat-related illness to deal with. After my first lap, I felt pretty wrecked, and it took about half an hour before people stopped looking at me like I might fall out of my chair at any time. After a good stretch, a tasty light lunch, and plenty of fluids, though, I felt pretty good and enjoyed my turns as support crew & childminder. Jill took the second lap, and paced it a bit closer to a full 10K effort, which resulted in an excellent first lap time (50'), but over an hour of everyone giving her that same concerned look. After that, everyone else wound it back in a bit to avoid being the first in the team to properly pass out.
My race plan continued, with my 4x10K reps concept working much better than I'd expected, with less than a minute difference in the first 3 times. After my 3rd (finishing at 1am), I neglected my post-lap refuelling in order to crawl into my sleeping bag, which seemed so inviting. I felt the difference on my morning lap, and started to bonk a bit, which meant I dropped a couple of minutes when I couldn't really speed up through the final 5K as I had in the other laps. I learned a lot about areas of my post-run recovery that I could improve on in my normal training weeks (like, actually pay attention to it like I did once upon a time).
For the others, the result was equally useful. Jill and Caroline did their first ever nighttime trail racing. Linzi got in some good tired-legs effort with a blast in her final lap. Nic reconnected with racing (as opposed to running in an event), Rohan and Paul did one lap more than they had previously, and Mitch found out that he's still a bit tired after Endure 24 (duh!).
Most importantly, though, we also had a lot of fun. The kids went home as tired as their parents, having had a weekend of camping, playing, cheering, and generally being a delightful distraction from aching muscles and blisters. Caroline's husband, Andy, got in some running, and Charmaine seemed to spend most of the weekend walking with camera in hand (you can see her pictures here). Next year, hopefully we'll be able to get a few more from EVRC to come out and make up some club teams.
Sunday, 6 April 2014
Dress for Success
As a runner who enjoys most types of racing, I often wonder what sits behind the decisions so many of us make when selecting our training and racing attire. Go to a fell race in pretty much any weather, and you'll find at least half the field wearing the minimum to protect their decency, next to some runners who are set for an expedition to the poles. Generally, the difference is easily explained by the expected amount of heat generated on the ups and just how much/little will be lost on the downs.
At trail ultras, on the other hand, the motto seems to be "more is more". It struck me last year, looking through all the snaps of the Cotswold Way Century, that the runners looked pretty hot early on (it was a warm day). On closer inspection, I noticed most of them were wearing several layers. The correlation seemed pretty obvious. So, I've been keeping an eye out to see whether it was a one-off or part of a wider trend.
My trip to the Eco-Trail de Paris might have been a little skewed, since it often acts as a last kit test for the MdS, but again, on a warm day relative to the season, there were a lot of extra layers on. Considering the heat impact a standard pack has, or the even larger influence of many of the current design of race vests, I get the feeling a lot of runners are dressing for the pre-race standing about, rather than for running.
If I take this picture of my third trail marathon as an example, you can see I'm sweating heavily, and don't have much option left with the top I'm wearing other than to remove it. It was about 5C out, and my Montane shirt was great pre-race, with a t-shirt on top (hanging soggiily at my waist only 7mi in). I could have stripped off, put on my t-shirt, and carried on. The problem, though, was that as soon as I got around the corner, I'd be facing a headwind, shuffling across Chesil Beach, and my temp would drop like a stone. These hot/cold kind of days make it very difficult, because the trail conditions don't always encourage consistent effort. Sometimes, you just can't run hard enough to stay warm.
I'd suggest that over-clothing is usually the result of a previous under-clothing event. My first trail marathon was in early May. Sunshine, blue skies, beautiful views? Not in England, my friends. Rain, more rain, then some driving wind and a bit more rain. By the end of the race, I was wearing my vest (newbie error), waterproof, and spare windproof gilet. Oh, and I was freezing. Turned out to be about 4 degrees on the hills.
So, back to the prevalence of over-dressing at trail ultras. What possesses us to wear layers we won't need until dark at the start of a long race? Is it down to fear of being cold? Perhaps the inability to find further space in the pack for that extra windproof (it works on airplanes, so why not at races)?
After Rocky Raccoon, I decided to stop wearing my compression calf-guards. Having had calf and ankle issues consistently through the past 6 years, I'd become psychologically reliant on the idea that they'd hold me together. At Rocky, though, I realized that mostly they were keeping my legs warm on a day when I wanted to cool down.
At the ETP, I couldn't see the front-runners, but I definitely didn't see a lot of skin on show around me. Socks up to the knees, shorts down to the knees, longish short sleeves, long sleeves, long-sleeved compression tops, full tights, windbreakers - anything and everything that could possibly keep the heat from escaping seemed to be on show.
Why did I choose a vest for the ETP? The temperature was due to be around 20C, and we've not seen a lot of that in northern Europe this year, plus it was going to be sunny, and there's not usually a lot of wind in the trees to help keep one cool. Was I worried about losing a lot of skin? Not really. The 24 miles I'd done in a similar vest 8 weeks ago was very comfortable from that angle. I did have to make some adjustments because of the heavier pack, and would have preferred the protection of a t-shirt, but not enough to put on the long-sleeve top I had in the pack for the cool of the night. Even when the weather cooled, I was happier to use the opportunity to run faster and generate more heat than I'd have been to keep the slower pace in the warmer top, even with a little less rubbing on my shoulder.
I often think that pace judgement is one of the hardest part of endurance running. Sometimes, when I look around a bit, I see that dressing for the temperature around your body, and not the one in your mind, is often a key factor in how the race will go. Soon, we'll all be sporting our skimpy summer gear on our mid-week runs, enjoying the feeling of sun on skin. Then, come the long run on the weekend, I wonder just how many will adopt the "more is more" method and wonder why it all felt so slow and difficult. Maybe, if you're worried about getting cold or chaffing, pop a spare shirt in the pack to ease your mind, and let all that skin do what it was designed to do in the first place?
At trail ultras, on the other hand, the motto seems to be "more is more". It struck me last year, looking through all the snaps of the Cotswold Way Century, that the runners looked pretty hot early on (it was a warm day). On closer inspection, I noticed most of them were wearing several layers. The correlation seemed pretty obvious. So, I've been keeping an eye out to see whether it was a one-off or part of a wider trend.
 |
| I hope a lot of these guys are prepping for the MDS! Not a lot of skin, plenty of layering, and the start is in 5 minutes. |
 |
| How many of these runners know it's one of the warmest days of the year so far? |
 |
| Looked cold, but I was burning up, with far too much clothing on. Doh! |
 |
| May 2, 2010 - one of the coldest runs of my life. |
So, back to the prevalence of over-dressing at trail ultras. What possesses us to wear layers we won't need until dark at the start of a long race? Is it down to fear of being cold? Perhaps the inability to find further space in the pack for that extra windproof (it works on airplanes, so why not at races)?
 |
| Another hot day, but plenty of extra layers here, too. |
At the ETP, I couldn't see the front-runners, but I definitely didn't see a lot of skin on show around me. Socks up to the knees, shorts down to the knees, longish short sleeves, long sleeves, long-sleeved compression tops, full tights, windbreakers - anything and everything that could possibly keep the heat from escaping seemed to be on show.
Why did I choose a vest for the ETP? The temperature was due to be around 20C, and we've not seen a lot of that in northern Europe this year, plus it was going to be sunny, and there's not usually a lot of wind in the trees to help keep one cool. Was I worried about losing a lot of skin? Not really. The 24 miles I'd done in a similar vest 8 weeks ago was very comfortable from that angle. I did have to make some adjustments because of the heavier pack, and would have preferred the protection of a t-shirt, but not enough to put on the long-sleeve top I had in the pack for the cool of the night. Even when the weather cooled, I was happier to use the opportunity to run faster and generate more heat than I'd have been to keep the slower pace in the warmer top, even with a little less rubbing on my shoulder.
I often think that pace judgement is one of the hardest part of endurance running. Sometimes, when I look around a bit, I see that dressing for the temperature around your body, and not the one in your mind, is often a key factor in how the race will go. Soon, we'll all be sporting our skimpy summer gear on our mid-week runs, enjoying the feeling of sun on skin. Then, come the long run on the weekend, I wonder just how many will adopt the "more is more" method and wonder why it all felt so slow and difficult. Maybe, if you're worried about getting cold or chaffing, pop a spare shirt in the pack to ease your mind, and let all that skin do what it was designed to do in the first place?
Friday, 14 March 2014
Running Diaries - you keep one, but do you use it?
Judging by the volume of Facebook and Twitter chat, most runners do keep (and share) records of their runs. Whether it's Strave, Runkeeper, Garmin Connect, vast home-made spreadsheets (yes, that's me), a blog, or good old handwriting, we keep a log of anything from number of miles run to the number of jellybabies consumed. It's a great way to give ourselves a pat on the back, a little gold star, just for going out and doing what we want to.
But how many of us actually use the running diary for anything other than annoying our non-running friends & families or for ammo in the "I kicked your butt on that segment last Tuesday" conversations with our running buddies? When was the last time you went back and actually analyzed your diary for something more subtle than "how fast did I do my 800m reps last month?"
What brings this to mind? Well, this week I managed to complete a (not very) whopping 42.5 training miles, including some good trail runs and a full speed session. It's the first good quality week I've had in ages, and I wanted to know just how long "ages" really was.
So, I dragged out the spreadsheet and hunted for weekly mileage over 40 that didn't actually include an ultra. After all, weekly mileage that's 90-100% on one day doesn't really count as a quality week. A quality day, yes, but that's only 1/7th of a week.
Having exhausted the rather short 2014 diary, I changed to the 2013 page and was pleased to see a couple of 40+ weeks in December, one in November, and then ... May. OK, so I knew the second half of the year was patchy, so I wasn't expecting much. But, it got me thinking: was it just a figment of my imagination that I was quite happily doing 35-45 miles per week before I made a mess of my ankle over the Summer?
The training diary trawl continued, not looking for specific totals, but trends; little (or big) stretches of the consistency that turns running into training, patterns of good and bad. To say I was a little amazed at what I found would be a gross understatement. I was shocked to learn that before my little blip in December, which ended with a total bonk 32mi into a 45mi training run, I hadn't logged 2 40+ mi weeks in a row for a year. Consistency? Not here... I knew 2013 had been a bit unplanned, but the erratic up & down was, on reflection, quite easy to spot. I think I may need a weekly mileage graph on this year's sheet (if in doubt, add more graphs...).
I then started to ask myself a new question: if I had such a crap training year (and I did, let's be honest), how did I manage to pull off the races I did? Dig deeper, look at 2012, and there's the answer. It would seem that the first half of 2013 was built on the laurels of 2012. One third of my 2012 weeks had 40+ miles. I got through the next 6 months based on that foundation.
I'm not going to further bore you with the rest of what I found on that trawl. I will, however, say that it's helped to build a picture of what I've done right before, and how I can build on that for the next year.
So, next time you're looking at your latest Strava segment stats, or posting that picture of your Garmin on Facebook, take a step back and look at the bigger picture. You might see more than you expected.
But how many of us actually use the running diary for anything other than annoying our non-running friends & families or for ammo in the "I kicked your butt on that segment last Tuesday" conversations with our running buddies? When was the last time you went back and actually analyzed your diary for something more subtle than "how fast did I do my 800m reps last month?"
What brings this to mind? Well, this week I managed to complete a (not very) whopping 42.5 training miles, including some good trail runs and a full speed session. It's the first good quality week I've had in ages, and I wanted to know just how long "ages" really was.
So, I dragged out the spreadsheet and hunted for weekly mileage over 40 that didn't actually include an ultra. After all, weekly mileage that's 90-100% on one day doesn't really count as a quality week. A quality day, yes, but that's only 1/7th of a week.
Having exhausted the rather short 2014 diary, I changed to the 2013 page and was pleased to see a couple of 40+ weeks in December, one in November, and then ... May. OK, so I knew the second half of the year was patchy, so I wasn't expecting much. But, it got me thinking: was it just a figment of my imagination that I was quite happily doing 35-45 miles per week before I made a mess of my ankle over the Summer?
The training diary trawl continued, not looking for specific totals, but trends; little (or big) stretches of the consistency that turns running into training, patterns of good and bad. To say I was a little amazed at what I found would be a gross understatement. I was shocked to learn that before my little blip in December, which ended with a total bonk 32mi into a 45mi training run, I hadn't logged 2 40+ mi weeks in a row for a year. Consistency? Not here... I knew 2013 had been a bit unplanned, but the erratic up & down was, on reflection, quite easy to spot. I think I may need a weekly mileage graph on this year's sheet (if in doubt, add more graphs...).
I then started to ask myself a new question: if I had such a crap training year (and I did, let's be honest), how did I manage to pull off the races I did? Dig deeper, look at 2012, and there's the answer. It would seem that the first half of 2013 was built on the laurels of 2012. One third of my 2012 weeks had 40+ miles. I got through the next 6 months based on that foundation.
I'm not going to further bore you with the rest of what I found on that trawl. I will, however, say that it's helped to build a picture of what I've done right before, and how I can build on that for the next year.
So, next time you're looking at your latest Strava segment stats, or posting that picture of your Garmin on Facebook, take a step back and look at the bigger picture. You might see more than you expected.
Wednesday, 9 October 2013
The Long Trail to Recovery
Joy, it's another post about his darned feet, you say? Well, only in as much as they're in good enough shape to let me get back into some proper running. I may soon even be able to do a bit of racing, albeit at a reduced pace.
After losing most of July, August, and September to a combination of foot issues (hurrah, mostly trauma-induced, rather than just too much running!), it looks like I am back on the trail to recovery. Just in time, too - there's a rather tasty 100-miler in February that's got my name on it, and I need to get some training in.
When restarting training after a long layoff, it's easy to do too much and re-injure yourself. So, I've been breaking in gently, until last week. We had been planning some R&R after the Cotswold Way Century, and after weighing up all the options, learning some new trails in the Peaks and Northumberland sounded ideal. We looked for some races, but there were none that suited, so it became a chance to explore and enjoy the great footpaths on our own.
Day 1 was a relaxing 10mi around Edale, taking in the boggy joys of Kinder Scout and the southern end of the Pennine Way. Although a bit chilly and breezy at the start, we got a sunny day to take in some excellent ghyll scrambling and the occasional chance for a bit of actual running. It was a great way to test out my foot and ankle strength, as we weren't on particularly forgiving trails.
The route included some spectacular views in all directions. This was my first time to the peaks, and I can understand why the area is so well regarded. I wouldn't say the climbs were longer than what we normally get to run on, but we were certainly spoiled for choice!
I'm used to running in an area heavily populated by waymarkers, so it was good to get some experience running in what's best described as a sparsely marked area.. I can't say there's much scope for following an actual footpath on Kinder Scout. Had we not encountered a local out for a hike, I imagine we would have taken quite some time to get across the bogs attempting to follow the bearing shown on the OS map. He kindly pointed us about 10 metres to the left where a streambed offered firm footing and a quick way through the bog.
Because the goal of the day was to get to know somewhere new, the pace was pretty relaxed, with quite a few picture stops. The green, yet rugged landscape on a bright day caused repeated deep-breath-and-smile stops. It was simply stunning.
I was curious about what we'd find when we finally joined the Pennine Way, at Kinder Downfall. The National Trails that I'm familiar with are pretty well marked (SW Coast Path, Cotswold Way). This section of the Pennine Way, not so much. There weren't a large number of options, so as long as we headed in the right direction and were on something vaguely trampled, I was confident we would be fine. Off the tops, the signs began to reappear, so we could be certain of the final few miles back to Edale. As we approached the ankle-breaker of a staircase at Jacob's Ladder, we met with several of the runners racing the Edale Skyline (~20mi). With 15mi under their soles, they were looking tired and ready for the pub at the end. When we arrived ourselves, it was a veritable runners' haven.
Day 2 was scheduled as a slightly more "runnable" day out, with 10mi near Ladybower Resevoir. Once again, the day was dry, if a bit cooler. The run along above the resevoir was very pretty, and quite a joy to run. Once we got up to Derwent Edge, though, the vast expanse of heather and random rock formations made for a rather spectacular run. On greyish days, pictures of rock and heather (and the occasional picture-hungry red grouse) don't really say much. If you've not been in the area before, and you have a chance to go - get out there. Our jogs from one cool set of rocks to the next was a real joy.
The plan for Days 3&4 was to rest and do a bit of walking around Durham for a day and then get back on the trails. Still time on feet, but a chance to recover a bit and let the shoes dry before taking on another 10 miler along Hadrian's Wall. In weather terms, it might have been better to risk the feet and do the 3 days in a row. We had rather fine weather for our walking tour, and then had a proper Northumbrian day of wind and rain on slippery rock for our trip along the wall that is meant to be keeping my in-laws at bay.
It wasn't a great day for pictures, although there were some excellent views when the sun briefly pushed through the driving drizzle. Originally, we were going to take a circular route including some of the local moorland, but with a combination of starting from the wrong point (navigation error) and tired legs, we decided not to go bog-slogging in the rain and enjoyed an out-and-back that included some very slippery steps. It's great to use rock to keep the path from significantly eroding, but since they were almost like ice in the rain, it was a high-concentration effort.
We had planned for a bit of running in Scotland for the next day, but in the end, decided that the opportunity to undo all the good healing was a bit too strong, and cut the running part of our break. Still, 30mi over 4 days without any significant aches and pains lead me to believe that I will actually be able to do some proper training in the next few months so I'm ultra-fit for 2014.
After losing most of July, August, and September to a combination of foot issues (hurrah, mostly trauma-induced, rather than just too much running!), it looks like I am back on the trail to recovery. Just in time, too - there's a rather tasty 100-miler in February that's got my name on it, and I need to get some training in.
When restarting training after a long layoff, it's easy to do too much and re-injure yourself. So, I've been breaking in gently, until last week. We had been planning some R&R after the Cotswold Way Century, and after weighing up all the options, learning some new trails in the Peaks and Northumberland sounded ideal. We looked for some races, but there were none that suited, so it became a chance to explore and enjoy the great footpaths on our own.
Day 1 was a relaxing 10mi around Edale, taking in the boggy joys of Kinder Scout and the southern end of the Pennine Way. Although a bit chilly and breezy at the start, we got a sunny day to take in some excellent ghyll scrambling and the occasional chance for a bit of actual running. It was a great way to test out my foot and ankle strength, as we weren't on particularly forgiving trails.
 |
| A few rocks here and there denote the path up. |
 |
| A sunny look over Kinder Downfall |
The route included some spectacular views in all directions. This was my first time to the peaks, and I can understand why the area is so well regarded. I wouldn't say the climbs were longer than what we normally get to run on, but we were certainly spoiled for choice!
I'm used to running in an area heavily populated by waymarkers, so it was good to get some experience running in what's best described as a sparsely marked area.. I can't say there's much scope for following an actual footpath on Kinder Scout. Had we not encountered a local out for a hike, I imagine we would have taken quite some time to get across the bogs attempting to follow the bearing shown on the OS map. He kindly pointed us about 10 metres to the left where a streambed offered firm footing and a quick way through the bog.
 |
| A few nice rock formations added to the stoppage time. |
I was curious about what we'd find when we finally joined the Pennine Way, at Kinder Downfall. The National Trails that I'm familiar with are pretty well marked (SW Coast Path, Cotswold Way). This section of the Pennine Way, not so much. There weren't a large number of options, so as long as we headed in the right direction and were on something vaguely trampled, I was confident we would be fine. Off the tops, the signs began to reappear, so we could be certain of the final few miles back to Edale. As we approached the ankle-breaker of a staircase at Jacob's Ladder, we met with several of the runners racing the Edale Skyline (~20mi). With 15mi under their soles, they were looking tired and ready for the pub at the end. When we arrived ourselves, it was a veritable runners' haven.
 |
| Day 1 finished - at the southern end of the Pennine Way |
Day 2 was scheduled as a slightly more "runnable" day out, with 10mi near Ladybower Resevoir. Once again, the day was dry, if a bit cooler. The run along above the resevoir was very pretty, and quite a joy to run. Once we got up to Derwent Edge, though, the vast expanse of heather and random rock formations made for a rather spectacular run. On greyish days, pictures of rock and heather (and the occasional picture-hungry red grouse) don't really say much. If you've not been in the area before, and you have a chance to go - get out there. Our jogs from one cool set of rocks to the next was a real joy.
 |
| Look: Rocks & heather! |
 |
| Salt Cellar, I believe. |
 |
| The Wheel Stones, with a rather tiny Kurt in front. |
 |
| Hey look - there's actually a bit of wall! |
We had planned for a bit of running in Scotland for the next day, but in the end, decided that the opportunity to undo all the good healing was a bit too strong, and cut the running part of our break. Still, 30mi over 4 days without any significant aches and pains lead me to believe that I will actually be able to do some proper training in the next few months so I'm ultra-fit for 2014.
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