The Highland Fling - my race along the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond

The Highland Fling is, among other things, a traditional dance performed more or less on the spot while trying  not to injure oneself on some sort of sharp weaponry (mostly the weaponry thing is left out of official competitions these days).  It's a fascinating dance to watch, and I'll admit that it requires a bit more fleetness of foot than I am likely to muster anytime soon.  The uncharitable might describe it as "prancing around trying not to cut your feet off".  It is also a 53 mile ultramarathon run along the lower portion of Scotland's West Highland Way.  For those who only ever read these to look at the pictures, they're at the bottom after all the waffle.

I put the Fling on my race calendar not long after finishing the River Ayr Way challenge last year.  I really liked the fun and relaxed atmosphere of the Scottish ultra scene, and it's kind of like a local race, in a roundabout sort of way.  With the start only an hour and a bit from Nic's parents (who are super crew!), it means that with a little organisation we can mix business and pleasure.

On Thursday evening, I picked up Nic and we headed up the dreaded motorway.  Long drives always make a mess of my hamstrings, so I was keen to get the extra recovery day to loosen up.  After a bit of family time, and a trip to town to get a WHW map to replace the one I left at home (doh! #1), we headed to Milngavie (pronounce nothing like "Milngavie") to check in to the race and the motel du jour.

Registration was slick, leaving us plenty of time for the pre-race meal (a pint of rather fine beer and the perfect nutrient mix of haggis, neeps and tatties).  I was shockingly relaxed, given my normal pre-race stress-bunny tendencies.  I knew I had everything sorted out and was ready to run.  Unlike before last month's Exmoor Ultra, I was out cold by 10pm and was somewhat startled by the 4:45 alarm.

As I rubbed my eyes, I suddenly realised my contact lenses were sitting in my toiletry kit, back in Prestwick (wasn't going to shower, so why take the bag?).  Big "Doh!"  I've only done one trail run in my specs since I face-planted on my way down a hill a few years ago, partly due to the lack of vision under the line of the lenses, and partly because I was an idiot.  So, I didn't really enjoy waking up to the knowledge that I'd be in specs again (thankfully, with slightly larger lenses than the offending pair) and am still somewhat of an idiot. Still, I wasn't going to change either of those facts, so had to resolve to take downhills and tricky ground with a bit more care than usual and just get on with things.

The race start was the usual milling about.  Nic kindly dragged herself out of bed at stupid o'clock to walk down to the start with me.  The 1km walk was a great loosener, and was then followed by standing about for half an hour while I checked out the wide variety of shoes that would be on the route.  As I'd suspected there would be, there was a wide range of both road and trail shoes on display.  I would be in my Roclite 295s, sacrificing a bit of responsiveness for protection against the rocks.

RD John Duncan gave a very quick safety briefing (pretty much "If you don't have a foil blanket, get one at registration.  Have fun!"), and we lined up in our pens.  A trail race with pace pens!  It was a bit of a novelty to be in a trail race big enough for pens, but it seemed like most people used them appropriately because I didn't feel any bunching as we set off.  I chose the 11-12hr pen, since my target was "somewhere between 10 and 12 hours".  I'd learned from RAW in September, and decided to set off at a fairly relaxed jog.

It wasn't long before we found countryside, and the sun began to poke out over the hills.  All of the slow running I've been doing lately paid off as I trotted along at between 9 and 10 minute miles, depending on the direction of the gentle gradients.  With a few exceptions, the first 13 miles weren't taxing enough to justify much walking, so I happily ran my first 1/2 marathon of the day in 2 hours.  Plan A, when I entered, was to get to 40 in 8 hours and then get to the end in however long it took.  Knowing that the route would get tougher after 13, I felt on track for Plan A but had no idea how things would pan out.

The second quarter introduced a few hills at last.  The walk up Conic Hill was a welcome change. The WHW wardens had been busy in recent weeks, transforming what I'd been told used to be a wretched bog into a firm footpath.  I took the opportunity of the walking breaks to take off my base layer, with the sun giving us a nice warm morning.  Following Conic Hill, the route kept its gently undulating feel, slowing my pace now that there were some hills that needed walking.  As we approached half way, I was starting to flag a bit.  The combination of a fairly poor training winter and a busy March meant I would be running the last 30 miles on tired legs.

I completed the 1st of the day's 2 marathons in just under 4.5 hours before taking a short break at the next checkpoint. Most of the check points in this race are at visitor centers, which have the added bonus of actual plumbing.  Comfort restored, I got stuck into my 2nd marathon with renewed enthusiasm.  At around 34 miles, I encountered the section of the WHW my friend Roy had warned me about. It's basically a rocky scramble with a few roughly runnable sections.  The front of the pack can speed-scramble this with the dexterity of a mountain goat.  I was more like a 3-legged elephant on valium as I made my way across the slippery boulders.  I lost 15-20 places as the lighter of foot disappeared into the distance.  By this stage, the relay teams started to pass by regularly, adding to the number of times I stood aside to avoid blocking the path.  As I continued to scramble my way through, I kept thinking of prancing about trying not to shred my feet and decided this section was indeed reminiscent of the Highland Fling.  Although it felt like forever, the vile stuff only lasted for a few miles, giving way to the more standard rocky path that allowed some running at last.  This 3rd quarter took me a shade over 3 hours, allowing me to somehow hit my Plan A time at 40mi.

As I refilled my water at the final check point, the volunteer told me the rest of the route was "undulating" with that glint in the eye that means "hilly".  I'd studied the profile a bit before the race, and was expecting a few hills in the final quarter.  What I wasn't expecting was the marvelous combined effect of a caffeinated gel, a handful of jelly snakes, and a couple of pieces of Maggie's famous tablet (aka Rocket Fuel).  Before I knew what had happened, I went from dragging my sorry butt along the trail to a slightly faster jog/shuffle.

Hyped up on sugar and caffeine, I decided to race the final miles.  I had lost a lot of places on the scramble, and was pretty aggrieved.  I picked up a few at the check point while others dawdled, but as I ran, I started to see familiar shirts in the distance, coming back to me. Chasing, I could see where the next "target" had started to walk a hill or restarted running.  So, I focused on running a few extra metres before the walk and restarting a few metres earlier.  One by one I was able to reel in runners, using each as motivation to push that little bit harder than I really felt comfortable with.  To keep cool, I kept dipping my hat into little rivulets of run-off.  The final 12 miles took around 2.5 hours, with the final hills much smaller than I'd anticipated.

The finish was fantastic.  Nic and her parents were about half a mile out, cheering me on.  Nic decided to run the final bit in with me, which was both lovely and slightly disheartening as she found it rather easy to keep up - I tried to sprint away as she goaded me that she would "chick" me, but almost lost my lunch and decided that a sociable run in would do nicely.  With the piper playing and encouraging us to the last little twist, I ran into the funnel of noise that made up the final 20 metres and crossed the line arms aloft in 10:44 and change and a top quarter finish to complete an excellent run on a perfect spring day.

Off to a chilly start on a crisp morning

Clear blue skies were the order of the day!

Early morning sun poking over the hills

More sunshine!

Sometimes, this is a run through forest. This year, we had views of the Loch

The Bonnie Bonnie banks of Loch Lomond!

Conic Hill - with some very nice new paths!

Views from Conic Hill

More views from Conic Hill

Loch Lomond from Conic Hill

Loch Lomond is quite long, you know.

Did I mention we ran along Loch Lomond?

Hey, look!  I think that's Loch Lomond

A couple of trees near some water.

It's still there.  Are you singing the song?  I had it in my head for about 3 hours.

Mountains in the distance

Nearly at the end of the loch

Gently undulating trails as we leave the waterside behind

Snow-capped mountains in the distance.

Downhill and into the farm with shin-deep s**t.  Gotta love cattle.

Is that a kilt I see before me?  That'll be Rab Lee who I passed before he pipped me in the final mile.

Ben More in the distance

View of Ben More from the final hill.

Flat!

Ben More and Stob Binnein

Still running with half a mile to go.

Happy to have run it, happy to finish!

Shoe Review: Saucony Kinvara 3

The main players in the running shoe world have now joined the “natural running” movement en masse.  Of course, “natural running” means different things to different people, but I take the general view that it means the shoe doesn’t cause me to change my gait compared to when I run barefoot on the beach.  For the past year, I have happily raced distances ranging from 1 to 41 miles in shoes with between 4mm and 9mm drop.  However, I encountered some issues with build quality with my preferred brand, so decided to try a few different manufacturers, to see what the main-stream companies now have to offer.

My local running shop, Run Stuff, typically stocks Asics, Brooks, and Saucony road shoes, so I decided to check out something from one of their ranges.  I know Asics well, having spent 2 years with my DS-Racers.  They’re good shoes, but I got tired of the weight-saving ventilation holes in the sole providing an opportunity for even the smallest puddle to give me wet feet.  I know Saucony from my control-shoe days when I was coming back from various injuries that had left me without much form or lower leg strength, and knew the fit to be comfortable.  So, I took some new Kinvara 3 shoes out for a spin.  Here’s what I’ve found so far.

The Kinvara 3 looks fast.

Overview

The shoes are light, comfortable, and fairly rigid.  At 231g per shoe in UK9.5, these are an ideal weight for endurance training on the road.  You don’t really feel them as added weight, and they have enough structure to cope with the training mileage.

The Kinvaras don’t mess about with a load of heavy materials on the upper.  The plastic support structure is heat-molded onto the fabric mesh upper “sock”, with very little extra material around the toe box.  This means that they are snug around the forefoot, so I’m not expecting to see any blisters caused by my feet slipping around.

The EVA cushion/sole is quite rigid, which is taking some getting used to.  I’m used to road shoes that allow me a lot of flexibility, so this is a bit different.  With a 4mm drop, I can quite happily vary from mid-foot to heel strike depending on the conditions, and the foot strike is generally comfortable.  The sole rigidity doesn’t seem to get in the way of me comfortably running up or down steep hills, but I’m not sure it’s a necessary property of the shoe.  I’d prefer a bit more flex.

It’s pretty hard to judge a shoe from just training runs, so I dropped my test pair straight into a hilly 10K race to see how they’d hold up.  They survived without irritating me, so I’ve been happy to take them out regularly, since.   They’re an adequate alternative to an Asics DS-Racer or an Inov-8 Road-X 233.  After a couple of miles, I’ve found them comfortable and unobtrusive, which I would say is an ideal combination in a running shoe.

Fit

Initially I found the initial fit a bit tight around the ball of my foot, but that eased off quickly after a few miles of wear and getting the lacing tension right.  The laces are simple, traditional, flat laces.  Why manufacturers have to mess about with round laces is beyond me – they untie themselves so easily.  No such problems here.   They have stayed put on all my runs so far.

The heel on the Kinvara 3 is a bit of a bone of contention.  I’ve seen/heard reviews from fans of the Kinvara 2, complaining about the heel box on the Kinvara 3.  The Achilles notch on the Kinvara 3 is a little high and narrow, so for shorter runners or those with a history of Achilles injuries that have left the tendons a bit lumpy, these may well cause you some discomfort – especially with short socks.  For me, I find the internal pads on the side of the heel and the cutout to be quite comfortable.  I’ve had plenty of shoes that have such padding all the way around, which either irritates the end of my Achilles or gets torn out in the first 100 miles by my rather bony heels.  So, having this feature seems like a winner.

Small pads fit just above the sides of the heel to hold the foot steady

Achilles notch is slightly higher than the Brooks Green Silence

Achilles notch is a bit higher than the Road-X 233 as well, but the Kinvara heel box is more comfortable

As a tall runner with a narrow Achilles, I can say these shoes fit fine and don’t cause me any irritation at all.  But, I know others have found the opposite.  So, try before you buy.

Outsole

 You can see from the picture above and various of my other shoe reviews that I’m not normally a wearer of “cushioned” shoe.  Having been doing far too many miles in fell shoes this winter, I thought I would enjoy the extra comfort in the cushioned ride.  It has been nice to step on the occasional rock and not feel it, I will admit.  It’s also a nice change from the Road-X, and to a lesser degree, the DS-Racer, to have some triangular lugs on the forefoot to help when I take the odd muddy trail or encounter the ubiquitous playing-field finish line.  The outsole performs well in sticky mud, and doesn’t collect much as you go along.  When the going gets slippery, though, the Kinvara’s behave as any road shoe would and go where the mud leads them.

Strangely, the lugs under the big toe don’t have re-inforced contact pads.  I’m not sure about the design behind this, since I’ve never really pushed off from the center line of my foot (after all, the big toe is connected to the big muscles).  But, so far, I’ve not noticed any lack of power transfer as a result.

The sole is a bit higher than all of my other shoes, and that is presenting a few problems.  The first couple of times I ran in the Kinvaras with tired legs, I noted that I kept turning my ankle over.  Since I’m normally in shoes with half the height and a rigidity, I tend to take uneven pavements without any real problems.  But, with the hard, high outsole, the shoe seems to push me over a bit when I catch a rock or crack.  When the legs are fine, I don’t notice so much.  But on tired legs, it’s hard to get the offending foot off the ground quickly, so the ankle gets turned – a bit more than it would on a lower shoe.

So, while I get some cushion for tired feet from the outsole, it is requiring a bit of retraining to get used to it.

Overall

As a shoe, I’d say the Kinvara 3 is a good light-weight all-rounder.  The rigid mid-sole isn’t really my cup of tea. If you’re used to something a bit heavier, or more “controlling”, I expect you will love the feather-light freedom as you race down the road.  With the low drop, take your time easing into it if you have been in a more standard 10-13mm drop shoe.  Otherwise, your Achilles will complain pretty loudly.  If you are used to a bit more of a minimalist shoe, you might want to head for the Fastwitch instead, to get that flexible “racing flat” feel. 

The Adventure Hub Exmoor Ultra

What can be better than running along the coastal trail from Minehead to Lynmouth?  Why surely only turning around and running back again?  That's the theory, anyway. This race has been on my radar for a few months, but the March schedule was a bit busy, so it was only loosely penciled onto the race diary.  During February, the weekend came free, so I entered together with my friend Mitch and started to promptly panic that my Winter ultra training was fairly pants.  I had a duff toe, a ropey hamstring (especially following the Threshold 10K), and not nearly enough miles in the legs.  Compared to 2012, I was woefully ill-prepared for this race.  With such great background, I did the only sensible thing and had a bit of a rest before the race to give my body a chance to sort itself out.

The day started early, with the alarm going off at 3:30.  I woke to the sound of the test match commentary I'd been listening to while trying to get my legs to stop twitching so I could get to sleep.  Why, oh why, does my body want to start running the night before the race?  I made up my tortilla-based menu for the day - breakfast of scrambled eggs in a tortilla, pre-race snack of peanut butter and banana in a tortilla, mid-race snacks of hummus in tortillas.  If there'd been more leftover tortillas from dinner a few nights earlier, I'm sure I'd have found a use for them.  Aside from being light on the stomach, they're a great way to carry a nice filling without taking up much space.

Mitch picked me up at 4:30 and we talked our way through the 2 1/2 hour drive down to Minehead, arriving in plenty of time to register, eat, etc. Thankfully, we don't need our jaws much in an ultra, because I expect they would have been a bit tired by the time we arrived.

The forecast was for fog, followed by thunderstorms, followed by rain, and I'm pretty sure I saw a plague of locusts tacked on as well.  The race started at 8 with a few drops of drizzle, which quickly gave way to glorious sunshine.  The first 4.5 miles are basically uphill out of Minehead, so I had ample opportunity to take off my jacket during one of the hiking sections.  It was glorious to feel the sun on my skin, and I tried to run as much as I could with the goal of getting as far as possible before the weather turned.  I enjoyed a few miles of chatting with Ted, a fellow American enjoying the UK life and ultra scene.  I always seem to find a bit of an international collection at events in the south, and this was no different.  American, French, and Irish voices made for an eclectic mix. The stop at the first check point was brief, enough time to drink a cup of water and give my number.  I was running self-sufficient, other than water, in part to avoid losing time in the friendly comforts of the check points.

By the time we dropped down the rather steep Bossington Hill and made our way to the pebbly beach at Porlock, it was sunny, warm, and beautiful.  I took a few pictures on the run to prove that we'd had some sun.

Perfect dog-walking weather

The Sunken Forest as the tide headed out

Leaving Porlock Weir, the route climbs for another few miles before flattening out and then presenting another big downhill just after the second check point.  At this stage, I'd realized the basic pattern: 5mi up, 5mi down/flat, repeat.  So, I did my best along the rough single track over the next few miles to make good use of the terrain.  I knew there was at least one more big hill before the long downhill to the turnaround point, and wanted to get there as quickly as I could sensibly manage.

In truth, I was struggling to run with any cohesion.  My legs were getting close to the furthest they had run in a while, and I didn't feel I had full control over where they were going.  I'm also not that keen on steep cliffs combined with wet rock (strange, for a trail runner, really).  The combination meant I felt the need to take a bit of extra care.  As a result, I wasted a fair bit of time gingerly picking my way along track that I would normally jog along without too much concern. On the plus side, I'd been able to eat regularly and felt quite happy with how things were going.  After all, there'd only been a few small showers and I was almost to my favourite downhill section of the Endurancelife CTS Exmoor Ultra, where I would surely be able to have a good run into the halfway point.

Of course, at this point, the weather turned and I had the chance to enjoy a heavy shower followed by a long hike up the final hill with a sleet shower blowing into my face.  Thank goodness for a good waterproof jacket.  As I slogged it up the hill, eating my final hummus wrap of the day and looking at the herd of Exmoor ponies, I wished I had reached this point before the storm.  It would have been nice to take a picture of the young foal with its dam, and I expect the views would have been quite pleasant.  Instead, the camera stayed in the dry pouch and I just kept trudging up the hill.

At last, I prepared to run down the final, long hill to the turnaround.  I had approximately 2km of steady track to enjoy.  Or, after all of the overnight rain, 2km of slippery single track to pick my way along.  The front runners were flying past at an amazing rate on their return journey, which meant lots of "keep going" and "well done" as we wished each other well on our respective challenges.  Those at the front had a race on, with the front few fairly close together.

I reached the turnaround in 4:23, expecting to slow down by around an hour on the way back.  The sun had come back out, so I could take off my sodden gloves and prep my bag for the return journey.  More TORQ bars and gels came out of the main pocket and went into the convenient front pouches and I pulled out some dry gloves and buffs and headed back to Minehead.  On the way out, I got a hug from Sharon Walton, who had been slowly reeling me in for a while.  Sharon ran the Naunton 19, and it's not always possible to have as good a chat with runners as I'd like when on the other side of the fence.  But, when we met before the race it was like meeting an old friend.  She and her husband Tim were very encouraging.  Sharon and I passed each other regularly on the way back.  It would have been great to run together, but I couldn't stay with her on the run, while making up lost ground on the uphill hikes.

Somehow, the way back seemed much harder than the way out.  The reality of it, though, is that the first 10 miles is actually the most runnable section, so the middle 20 are a real struggle.  I knew, once I got to the penultimate check point, that I would be able to get in somewhere near 10 hours if I just kept running.  Easier said than done, but I kept my check point visits short and kept going.  Yes, there was more sleet, and some rather festive snow for a mile or two, but that wasn't such a big deal.  It was, after all, better than heavy rain.

My biggest concern as I headed down to Porlock was strangely my hands.  The windproof/waterproof gloves weren't as waterproof as they needed to be, and I lost feeling in a few fingers.  Once the snow stopped, I wrung the gloves out and put them in a pocket, using spare buffs as make-shift mittens until my fingers returned to normal.  Once again, the sun came out to help take the chill off and the 10km shuffle home was on in earnest.

A nice coastal rainbow (if you look closely) as the snow stopped

At the top of Bossington Hill, I knew it was a clean run to the end and did my best to carry on at as fast a jog as I could manage.  The mist began to roll in and I tried to up the pace a bit to at least finish before sunset - I didn't want to have to dig the headtorch out of my bag.  I finally reached the end at 10:06, the longest I've ever raced for both in time (by nearly 3 hours) and distance (by nearly 2 miles).  My quads were shot, my achilles were ready to disown me, and I was pretty happy about the whole experience.  I'd wanted to go faster, but I couldn't, so that's just the way it goes.  The race was good, I had no real problems, I never got lost - in other words, it was a success.

Since the race, I have been double-checking that next month's Highland Fling isn't due to be this hard (it's not), because frankly, I think another 11 miles like that would have turned a good day into a world of hurt.

Garmin's interpretation of the Exmoor Ultra

Threshold Winter Series 10K

At last, a race report for 2013!  Usually, by now I would have raced 3 or 4 times in the year.  But, with two weekends of our own races, the usual post-Christmas chest cold, and my 40th birthday party, the first race of the year has only just happened.

On Sunday, I headed out of sunny Evesham to the delights of foggy Ilmington for a delightfully hilly road 10K put on by some friends at Threshold Events.  The race starts from the local sports club and heads gently down hill before a sharp left opens up a 2km+ ascent to the local TV transmitters.  It's a nice little climb to around 260m that left a few of the faster starters cracking back into a walk.  Luckily, it's followed quickly by a descent down the other side, including a 14% gradient for a bit.  Great, if you're on soft ground.  On the road, it's not quite so much fun.  All the knots that Sara had knocked out of me earlier in the week are now back with a vengeance as a result of that little 2km speed session.  Once down the hill, the route gently undulates around the village and surrounding roads before finishing in the playing fields.  It was the 5th of a series, and the route is challenging enough to make me consider doing the series in future.

So, how did it go?  Well, I felt tight in my warm up, so decided to take it steady from the start and try to run on effort.  I checked my watch once early on to make sure I wasn't going too quickly, and then when the hill came time ceased to have meaning.  Since I've never run the route, I have no reference point anyway, so the watch was just for recording the run.  The uphill wasn't too hard - I made use of the Autumn training and stuck to an effort level that was hard but sustainable, slowly picking up ground on those in front as the hill wore on.  About mid-way through the downhill, I eased off the brakes and opened a big gap behind and closed a couple up ahead, picking up in the region of 10 places.  Then, for the last 3K it was just a matter of not slowing down too much as my left leg found new types of discomfort.  In the end, I finished in 20th less than a minute off my 10K PB.  I guess I need to find a slightly flatter 10K sometime in the next 6 months to get that PB down a bit!