#Race – The GingaNinja and the battle of the @Great_Swim in the East #GreatEastSwim
The GingaNinja races a lot less than I do – not difficult given even on a quiet year I’ll still race twenty times – but this weekend was one of those rare occasions where the GingaNinja was giving it welly and I was spectating.
The Great Swim Series are an excellent, well organised and inclusive set of races. Just the kind of Open Water swimming experience you’d want as a beginner or even an experienced athlete and this event marked the Ginger ones third Great swim.
We rolled up Saturday morning to Alton Water to face the grey and murky clouds but the atmosphere was as usual, jovial and mirth filled – it had that hugely positive sporting buzz that you only get from people really achieving something. We wandered around the farmers market, ate delicious onion bhajis and dipped down to the waterside to catch up on the action.
Swimmers of all shapes, sizes and speeds were dunking themselves into the cool water of the reservoir and thundering into the headwind. In my view was a sea of little pink swim caps and flailing arms looking to pass by the 600 metre point where the swimmers would then have the wind behind them. This looked like it was going to be a difficult swim.
The GingaNinja, UltraBaby and I drifted over to the small but pleasant children’s playground and bounced around on the slide and monkey bars for a bit, this had the bonus of giving the GN the distraction to go and get her wetsuit on.
Now suited it was acclimatisation and warm up time and despite the GN being a little nervous from a lack of training time recently it all looked like it was going to go smoothly. UB and I waved our athlete away as she went to complete the slightly silly warm up exercises and then we watched as the horn was blown and the swimmers ran into Alton Water.
The GN would say that the first 600 metres were a battle to keep on course and make forward motion while the last 1000 metres were a battle to the finish.
UltraBaby and I did out best to hide from the wind and rain but (at least in my case) this was pretty pointless and I accepted wave after wave of wet passing straight through my clothes. Moist to the skin we went over to the finish line about 20 minutes after the start, listening to the excellent entertainment laid on by the event and we waited, joining in with the cheering of swimmers home.
We missed first swimmer in – 19 minutes 5 seconds but lots followed soon after. An older chap from the 12.30pm wave who hadn’t done any exercise in a decade since last year rolled in from his mile at just before 2.30pm – he was exhausted but elated. His wasn’t the only exceptional story of endurance over speed and several new to open water swimmers came home slowly but determined.
In the distance I could see the distinctive googles of the GN. I raised the lens of my camera and waited. I watched the water bobbing in all different directions and I could see her battling the conditions but with a final huge effort she flew under the finish line and onto the timing area. She had, of course, done it and done it well. Both UltraBaby and I beamed with pride!
Elated at completion though wishing she has gone faster the GN now turns her swim attention to the Great London Swim in July but her weekend of adventure was far from over – there was the Amba City of London Mile to complete first.
If you’re looking for a well organised and value for money swimming event then this series should be considered – you can easily see where your money goes, Tshirt, medal, organisation, facilities, safety crews, locations.
Between us the GN and I have completed 6 of these in 3 of the 5 locations (Manchester, Lake District, Scotland, London and Suffolk) I’m confident we’ll go and complete the others at some point in the future, because we hold these events in such high regard.
So if you fancy a safe and fun Open Water adventure then try this. Excellent.
Protected: #UltraBaby and the EU Referendum – help me save her future #EURemain
What would you do? #Run #Ultra
I’m signed up to the Leeds – Liverpool Canal 130 but several problems have arisen and I’m facing a choice about whether to run or not.
Ready? Training hasn’t been going as well as I would have liked and despite some excellent sections of training this year there hasn’t been enough of it.
I can blag 50 miles, I can even blag 100 miles – I’ve done it before – but I’m not sure I can blag 130 miles and I’m not sure I should. The LLCR130 was my opportunity to prove I can respect the distance and run well but life has simply gotten in the way.
Life: It’s been a busy year and a bit of an emotional rollercoaster if truth be told with one thing and another and this has had an tremendous impact on the overall amount of quality of running I’ve been able to commit to. Now while my body is in a constant state of reasonable shape I’m simply not fit enough for the 130 currently.
Could I get fit enough in the couple of months remaining? Probably.
Skye: However, the Isle of Skye gave my feet a real battering and unusually they aren’t healing very quickly. Running is currently painful and anything over about 7km brings memories of stones cutting into my feet. I’m not able to return to more sensible training yet despite it being 2 weeks after the event.
Blues: This is all compounded by the fact I’ve got a serious dose of the post race blues, I can’t seem to quite get my mind back in shape – preferring instead to focus on the Tesco offer of 4 Topics or Snickers for just a single pound coin! I can hear my inner runner completely fucked off at me but he’s being kept at bay in favour of chocolatey goodness.
Disagreement: Perhaps the killer things though are to do with the LLCR130 itself, after a serious disagreement with someone who would have probably provided aid and/or race support/places to stay/transport/etc the LLCR130 has become a logistical nightmare. Originally it was going to be quite a simple affair but now just a few weeks away it really feels like the challenges of the pre race and post race arrangements would be more testing than the run itself. I suppose I’m unconvinced that this is the best preparation for a race of this magnitude. Would I be better leaving this until 2017 when I can arrange the logistics to suit my needs rather than being reliant on other people? In an incredible gesture of support the always awesome Joe offered pacing and I’m incredibly grateful for that but think it might not be quite enough with all the other issues that have built up around this.
Priorities: Some of the running I’ve done this year has involved hills, climbing, mud, adventure. The LLCR feels like it would be a test of my capacity to endure but would miss out on all the things I love about running like scrambling up and down hills and getting filthy from knave to chops! With Haria Extreme as my year end ultra I feel like I should be competing in races that at the very least offer me the opportunity to prepare for this and also excite me. LLCR130 is a race I really want to do but I’m heavily conflicted because it simply doesn’t sit well inside the rest of the choices for this year.
So what do I do? If I go I’d give it my all and if I don’t I have a replacement race that I think would be more supportive of my year aims and less likely to DNF. The LLCR130 isn’t likely to disappear anytime soon and I wonder if I’d be better tailoring my running to focus on this race rather than as I have done this year which was focus on the Skye Trail Ultra and Haria Extreme. However, if I fail to race this then I won’t have run a hundred mile race this year and my thoughts of the 200 mile ultra across the Pennines would then surely be put back by another year. It’s a complex decision…
… so I’d appreciate your thoughts but as you can probably tell I feel like pulling out of the LLCR might be the right course of action.
Littering: it’s a lack of respect for running and trails #Litter #UKRunChat #Run
I hate littering and I hate the people that do it even more.
Having done a lot of racing over numerous distances I’ve seen quite a lot of littering and for me it’s one of the factors that ruins a race, in the endurance arena you tend to see it less thankfully but I wonder what other people’s opinions are?
In the last year I’ve seen three specific instances of rubbish being thrown onto the ground by a runner, twice I failed to act as the runner was too far ahead of me and also someone I had once considered a friend (and felt uncomfortable mentioning it) but in third occasion I was running near enough to complain to the runner and request they pick up their rubbish and carry it to the nearest bin.
There was a difference in the rubbish being thrown away too, the first two occasions it was the same runner and she threw onto different courses banana skins, biodegradable but still, in my opinion, rubbish and should have been carried to the next CP and deposited there. As one of these instances was under race conditions she should probably have been disqualified but given it was a first ultra I didn’t want to ruin her day, but races have rules for a reason, no littering in my opinion is there to show respect for your environment and the route.
Did I pick it up though on her behalf? If I didn’t have such an aversion (to the point of phobia) to the smell and texture of banana I would have picked it up myself but I didn’t and nor do I generally stop racing to clear up running little. Does this complaining about littering therefore make me a hypocrite? I’m not sure.
Then there was the second offender who simply threw to the floor a Clif Shot Bloks plastic wrapper. I pulled ahead as I was looking after the back end of the event and reminded him of his responsibility, he duly turned around and picked up the offending item without complaint. However, had he taken offence it would have made the following 19 hours of running a little uncomfortable.
Rubbish on the trail is something I look out for as I believe it’s inexcusable. Mostly our trails are clear of rubbish especially on events – being a middle of the pack runner and never going that quickly means I get to see the trail in all its glory and on glorious trails you notice if someone has been causing mess.
Races such as the Green Man, Skye Trail Ultra, Ranscombe and many others are beautifully clear and the runners respect the route but there are races such as the UTMB ones, my experience of the CCC for example, was that litter on the course was rife and while the organisers do their best to ensure that during and post race the trails are cleared it is sad to me that some, small minority, don’t give these beautiful routes the respect they deserve.
As I’ve pointed out, in the endurance arena, the problem is significantly less than in the shorter distance races where roads can become strewn with gel wrappers becoming really quite sticky (thinking of you mile 16 Liverpool marathon 2012) and of course there’s the original running litter – the empty bottle.
I’ve witnessed runners depositing their half drunk bottles of water deep into the nearest bush rather than in a bin or by the roadside near the checkpoint – this makes the job of the volunteers/marshals that much harder when clearing away race debris.
So why do it? And what’s the solution?
Most races already have an immediate DQ for littering but it does still happen – I’d be interested to know if anyone has ever been disqualified for littering. Perhaps runners need to take more responsibility on the trail for both themselves and other runners, being willing to draw attention to someone else’s misdemeanour – but that’s not an easy thing to do as I know from experience. So is there a different solution, perhaps better education about the effect of litter, more eyes on the route?
So have you ever seen a runner littering either in training or an event and did you say something? Would you say something? And do you have a solution to those that do litter above and beyond the DQ?
@jeremycorbyn can you help my daughter?#EUremain #VoteIn @UKLabour
I’m writing to you on behalf of my daughter, UltraBaby, she’s not even two years old and I’m worried for her. I’m worried about a United Kingdom not in Europe, I’m worried about the consequences of the actions of the people of our nation in just a few days time and ultimately I’m worried about the future. So I’m writing to you because I want her to be involved in a United Kingdom that is an integral part of a culturally and economically rich Europe.
Is that too much to ask?
Therefore I’m imploring you to do two things for my daughter and for those who can’t or won’t vote across the UK.
- I need you, without caveats, to get behind Europe and our position in it and rally sleeping labour supporters.
- I need you to get on a platform with the Prime Minister and rally the whole damn country. If Clement Attlee could share a stage with Josef Stalin and Harry Truman you can do it with David Cameron.
Help my daughter remain European Mr Corbyn, because she isn’t being given a choice in this decision and I believe she deserves the best possible future and the best possible future doesn’t include leaving the EU.
Thank you in advance for anything you can do to truly help.
Is ‘Gordon Alive?’ The real reason I went to the Isle of Skye #FlashGordon
You know Ming’s law Barin, outside his own Kingdom the hunter becomes the hunted.
I went to the Isle of Skye for two reasons really, the first I’ve discussed in my review of the Skye Trail Ultra which you can read here the second is perhaps the more important – Flash Gordon.
I swear by the great God Arbour I’ll not kill you unless you beg me too.
After I returned to my accommodation post Skye Trail Ultra I crawled up the stairs and went to sleep, disturbed only by one of the staff who thought the room would be empty and wanted to change the sheets, what she discovered was the remains of an ultra runner.
Sorry Munson you had your chance.
Anyway around 2pm after a few hours rest I started the process of cleaning myself up and preparing for my next adventure. I was going to head to the airfield on the Isle of Skye where the 1980 classic cult film Flash Gordon was part filmed.
My feet were sore but I had pierced most of the blisters, sealed them up, put thin socks over them and was wearing my most supportive Hoka (as all my Altra needed drying out). I packed a bag with GoPro and some lucozade and unfurled my cheat sticks which were the only thing that was going to make this 4.5 mile journey to the airfield possible.
This Ming’s a psycho
I moved gingerly through Broadford, taking in things I hadn’t seen before and admiring the bay, which on a bright late afternoon in May was delightful. I hadn’t realised how hilly the route would be but thankfully with my poles I was able to offset the pain in my feet. I’ll be honest I stopped a few times but this was more to check I was on the right route rather than for rest. I took the road via Lower Breckish which meant I came off the main road and could continue to admire the lovely scenery of Skye and about an hour or so after setting out from Broadford in the distance I could see the end of a runway.
If I had my time over, maybe I’d do it differently but I can’t help a man who’s dead!
Bugger, I was at the wrong end of it. Hmm. I decided that fortune had favoured the foolish or perhaps the adventurous and so dropped down closer to the coast, passing a small cemetery and parking for those wanting to get onto the beach. I now left the road to crash through the undergrowth once more. There was a stream that also needed crossing and so I carefully wound up my poles and leaped across the stones, much as I had during the race and clambered up the embankment. Here I was greeted by the barbed wire fencing and while I’m not normally noted for trespassing I vaulted over the fencing, Prince Barin style onto the airfield.
Forget it Ming, Dales with me!
The next half hour was spent shooting video calling out ‘Gordon’s Alive!!’ and ‘Flash, Flash, I love you but we’ve only got 14 hours to save the Earth’, many pictures were taken (see examples) and I felt a deep sense of satisfaction that is completed the two things I came to Skye for.
Flash Gordon to Vultan … Flying blind on a hawk man rocket cycle!
I may not be Flash Gordon, I’m not even a Zarkov or Bero but this visit let me connect to one of my favourite films of all time. Thank you Skye and thank you to the cast and crew of Flash Gordon.
#Review: is the Skye the limit? #SkyeTrailUltra #Running #Scotland
‘Have you got any Haggis left?’ I inquired. It was 9 minutes after midnight and the lady responded by saying ‘we’ve stopped serving’. Looking crestfallen the chef responded in a thick Scots accent ‘aye’. Five minutes later I was chowing down on a tasty tray of Haggis, neeps & tatties – this was when my adventure to The Isle of Skye truly began.
- Distance: 74 miles
- Ascent: +4500 metres
- Location: Isle of Skye
- Runners: 14
- Terrain: Mixed, boggy, rocky, tough
- Race Director: Might be Santa
- Tough Rating: 4/5
A week earlier I’d had a bad day of running at the Hillsborough to Anfield Run where the implications and costs have proved incredibly high and I wasn’t even sure if I was going to make it to Skye. A recurrence of injury and the arse end of my chest infection made it all seem highly unlikely. However, intensive work on my glutes and hamstring had helped to ease the problem and my chest infection was more a gloopy mess than anything serious. I heaved a sigh of relief as I slung my giant filled Macpac rucksack on my back and departed to Euston on Thursday evening.
I’d chosen the Caledonian Sleeper journey for travel for a number of reasons but the most important one was that I wanted to experience the overnight train and watch Scotland go by in a hazy blur and it was delightful, I caught up on some movies, read a book, wrote my blog piece about the EU Referendum and chatted to other passengers. At about 2am I finally drifted off to sleep in the comfort of my chair (standard class is still pretty good) and found myself dreaming of hills.
I opened my eyes about 5.30am and saw we had crossed the border, I was in Scotland – all I could see were hills and green, it was lush and fresh. The problem was I felt travel sick, my head exploded and I rushed to the toilet to try and puke my guts up but one toilet was broken and the other was blocked. My cosy journey was turning into a nightmare, I got a cup of sweet tea from the food carriage and sat back down, began breathing deeply and tried to stay calm. Eventually arriving into Inverness I had 25 minutes before my bus arrived and so I stormed around the city seeking headache tablets and more water. With both in hand I boarded and say at the back, curling up into a ball concerned that my race might be over before it started.
Despite everything I held myself together and tried to enjoy the latter part of the bus trip as we crossed the Skye Bridge from Kyle and as I hit Broadford my mood further improved and the fresh air gave me just what I needed. I stood motionless outside on the high street, taking in my surroundings and then gingerly walked up to my accommodation – I had arrived.
At about 3pm I attended the early race briefing and met Chris, Kevin, Emma, Barry, John and Allison as well as the man of the hour, Race Director Jeff Smith, who if you described him would be somewhere between Father Christmas and Billy Connolly, he had a good calming presence about him and it was a delight to have him go through the map with us, give us hints and of course do kit check.
The eclectic group of runners were a mix of English, Scots and French and there was a nice atmosphere despite there only being a handful of us.
I left the briefing, continuing to chat briefly with Chris one of the other highly experienced runners – which gave me some concern as I felt, despite nearly 30 ultras under my belt, perhaps I didn’t have the right kind of experience for this.
Back to my room, final kit and drop bag checks, shower and then sleep – in a few hours time we would be off.
At 2am I ran down to the village hall desperate to avoid the heavy rain – although my drop bags were waterproof my kit wasn’t and I didn’t want to get to the start line wet, I suspected there would be enough of that later. But just a few minutes later I rolled in to see Barry, John, Chris and Allison as well as Paul and Owen, everyone was looking a little sheepish but Jeff kept us all jolly with a cup of tea and those delicious Scottish tones!
By 2.45am, with a 3am depart to the north of the island for the start line it was clear not everyone was going to turn up. 30 runners entered, 10 had already had to pull out and a further half a dozen didn’t make it to the start line for whatever reason – there would be only – 14 starters. Yet this didn’t create any sense of missing out, infact it made it all quite cosy and there was chatter on the way to start and we watched as the day gently broke around us. We had arrived at the start of something special.
Out of the fun bus we all ambled around, taking in our new surroundings while Jeff prepared the final last bits. It was all very casual, well oiled but casual and it felt like you were amongst friends and so when we lined up to begin there was no real mad rush to the front. Yes, we had Paul and Owen who set an early pace but once they were gone to battle it out for the win the rest of us settled into our stride and prepared to face the oncoming trail storm!
The first section was a nice piece of uphill gravel track which gave a false impression of the next 73 and a bit miles. Once we had lost this we entered the wilderness and faced off against the boggy, mostly unmarked trail.
People took moderately different paths to begin the ascent up the Trotternish ridge, some choosing a lower path and others a more fulsome climb, I was somewhere in the middle – keen to make the ascent but more keen to stay on track. It was heavy going and already my feet were sodden and the Altra Olympus although reasonable were not built for this and I realised my Lone Peaks would have served me better. However, I made swift progress and battered my way to the top and soon bounded into a run. I pulled out the GoPro to grab some footage and quickly made my way down a fast descent. The Olympus picked up the trail nicely and I was feeling very positive that this was going to be fun.
Then the sucker punch came…
I was busy admiring the scenery rather than being focused on the course and I tripped, breaking the selfie stick and cutting open my leg. I pulled out my arm warmers to stop the bleeding and wipe away the most of the dirt and hurled myself forward. The trouble was I could feel my knee – 4 miles in and I was broken already, all my early bluster seemed just that now – bluster!
Regardless I began chasing Kevin down who was a little in front of me and overtook Chris who had stopped for refreshment, while continuing to delight in the scenery around me. These were the photographic opportunities as well as a good chance to thrash any knee injury out by putting a bit of pace together.
My aim was to hit Quiraing as quickly as I could and although not fast I was making decent time. Kevin remained just ahead of me and in the distance I could see the glint of a camera lense and the deep red of a pair of Race Ultra 290 – it was The Big G or The Boss who had come out to photograph Skye and the event. I thundered toward him and plonked myself down, exclaiming that, ‘bloody hell its hard’. We chatted for a minute but out of the corner of my eye I saw other runners and so put a bit of a spurt on where Jeff, the RD was waiting with some water. I hadn’t really consumed any of the 1.5litre bladder I was carrying but had emptied my 125ml soft bottle so filled this as I knew the real CP was over 20 miles away. With all the energy I could muster I ploughed onwards and importantly upwards (please feel free to correct me if I get names or hills wrong) past Biodha Buidhe and Bein Edra. Both with impressively destructive climbs and equally impressive descents – it was during these sections that I finally started to look around, as much for respite as for the views but I allowed myself time to take it all in and take in the enormity of the task ahead. It was here that I properly met Neil – one of two chaps who would define the way my race would go.
He caught me about an hour after leaving the first mini checkpoint and we ran together for the next few hours – I discovered this was a second crack at it for Neil and he was a seasoned ultra runner with a good humour and a varied repertoire of conversation. Between us we pushed through the uphills and the downhills despite my trepidation, especially on the descents as I was terrified of slipping over an edge or worse but his calming influence was much appreciated. When we reached the bottom of the Storr climb we found a small stream and filled out now heavily depleted water supply and I took this as a first opportunity to change my socks, dry my feet and look at what was happening between my toes.
It was all a bit funky with my feet and I knew I didn’t have the capacity to deal with at the bottom of a hill but the next CP couldn’t be that far. We made the ascent up the hill where The Big G awaited us with his camera and we stopped briefly to say hello but then it was back to it. Neil and I used the downhill to gain some much needed momentum but also once again freshened up in the streams. Moving forward was still feeling pretty good and although my knee was troubling me I felt I had a handle on it.
Another mile fell and then another and we arrived at the final ascent of the ridge.
I could feel my insides doing cartwheels and my legs turned to jelly, my head had turned to mush. I couldn’t think and I was spinning out of control. I had just enough about me to urge Neil on and when he was out of sight I collapsed into a heap. I held my head quietly for a few minutes and tried to focus, I started playing out Star Trek VI in my head as I often do when I need a distraction. Within a few minutes Kevin caught me and asked how I was, I told him I was feeling a bit crap but I’d be alright, I said the same to John as he passed me but as Allison approached I picked myself up and started moving again. For me this ‘final’ hill was harsh, it was steep and it was a scramble. I needed to stop every 20ft, my head still spinning but I knew I needed to at least get to Portree so I could either DNF or sort myself. After about 20 minutes I made it to the top and hurling off my bag I proceeded to vomit all over the grass. I lay there for a while, unable to move but the griping of my stomach was continuing and I found myself in need of a different type of evacuation. Let’s put it this way my arse could have put out the flames in a burning house I evacuated that much liquid shit. I thankfully had all the requirements to resolve the situation in cleanliness terms but I needed to lie down again. It was race over.
If I’d have had signal is have called mountain rescue but I didn’t so I picked myself up and headed onward – regularly checking my GPS to ensure I was going the right way. What I hadn’t realised was that my GPS had stopped working and I was off course, I’d been travelling around 90 minutes through rough ground and places I shouldn’t have been before I found some houses. I followed the road for a while but realised I had no idea where this would end up so I found a field of tall heather and harsh plant life that I could cross, another 40 minutes passed before I finally managed to make it to the road to Portree. By then my legs were sliced to bits and my arms whipped – I’d had enough, the sweepers would easily have gotten past me and the other runners would be ahead – I would surely be timed out.
With some trepidation I approached the checkpoint, I was pretty downbeat. ‘Hi, number 37… no sweepers haven’t been through yet… there’s runners behind you… you aren’t being timed out.
‘I’ve had heather jammed right up my arsehole for the last two hours’ I exclaimed, making light of the fact I looked like death. I was offered a giant pot of Vaseline – but I didn’t fancy the double dip possibility.
I was there for about 20 minutes, change of shoes, socks, dry feet, call the GingaNinja, fix Suunto, take painkillers, learn how to read map, load lucozade into main pack, fill water, change food. I now had a chance, if I could keep my feet dry I might just make it. The guys at the CP were so amazing and supportive and offered a bit of tough love when they felt I was getting comfy.
I set off at a decent pace, fast walking and light jogging, I wanted my feet to recover a little. I also ate a good sized portion of chicken, chocolate and lucozade – all of this combined to continue my recovery and by a mile or three in I was good to go. True another runner burst past me but I wasn’t interested in his race I was interested in mine. The road section allowed me some respite and when I finally got the harder trails again I was ready to commit to them. Here despite the water I kept my feet dry – using the rocks, however small, to ensure I arrived at CP2 with dry feet.
This was fun running now, I was enjoying myself again, leaping across waterfalls and bouncing down trails – all my strength had returned, though my feet remained an issue and had taken the brunt of the punishment and there was nothing I could do about that.
Into the campsite before CP2, another fording or three of rivers, a cheery hello with a German family and then I was greeted by my name being chanted from the volunteers! Dear god I couldn’t help it but I put in a turn of speed and thundered up towards them rushing across the road to collect my much needed nutrition (yazoo chocolate milkshake) and more dry socks for later in the day.
Just a few minutes in the checkpoint but long enough to tell a few jokes and meet the sweeper who had caught me in the last few metres of the second leg. I was advised he was there more as an aid to getting home rather than the man who’d time me out.
I’ll talk about Andy more later but for now let’s say he was a diamond geezer.
I set off to CP3 feeling pretty okay but with the knowledge that this section was noted for being wet. I’d made the bold prediction just prior to leaving that if my feet took another soaking then I really would DNF but instead I pushed on as fast as I could over the heavily stoned trail and through the Cuillins – I was passing through as the sun was starting to dip and all around I could see the majesty of the island dancing before my eyes. I leapt across the various waters, being mindful not to get too wet and always on the lookout ahead for a more sensible route but always with half an eye on the fantastic views.
Eventually Andy caught up to me again this time when I needed to stop and dress a gigantic blister that needed immediate attention. This particular toe has become a bit of a challenge in recent races, especially where moisture is an issue but a single large compeed sealed it up and I was soon on the move again. A couple more miles of moist track soon became damp bog, passing the bothy towards the south of the island and approaching my next proper cry.
Andy asked how I was with cliff edges. I explained that I was petrified of them and a vertigo sufferer, I didn’t mention that multiple bouts of labyrinthitis had left me with poor balance in situations like that also. We put on head torches and began assaulting the cliff edge – higher we climbed and I could feel the exposure to my right, hear the saline of water beckoning me towards my doom like a Siren calling out to a sailor. I moved as swiftly as I could, tears dripping down my face and Andy a little farther ahead. I’d been told this would be a few miles but that it might take as much as 90 minutes. Andy proved his diamond geezer status by being straight up – he helped by preparing me mentally and never saying ‘it’ll be over soon’ – I learnt quickly to trust him. Eventually we descended down and moved onwards then back up towards Elgol but the route had thinned out and we arrived into the CP to be greeted by the brilliant Karen. Here there was a little shelter, some food, Irn Bru and tea.
‘Two teas please, one with sugar, one without, oooo is that Irn Bru and is THAT a mister Kipling individual wrapped strawberry milkshake cake???’ I changed my socks here for the ones in my race best as I’d foolishly decided against a drop bag here.
My new companion Andy was making haste with clothing and footwear changes and all in all this was a proper stop – 20 minutes probably but it was needed. Here I ran into Barry again, this time thankfully not in his tiny shorts, his race had come to a premature end unfortunately. Had I been a gambling man I’d have said he was good for the win here but a niggle meant he’d taken the safer approach to ensure his was race fit for events in June (check out his events at www.highfellevents.com – these look fun). John and Allison also were at this CP and I got to say hello, how’re you doing, etc and they both looked strong and in good form – this was pleasing to see. To my mind they were well on course to a very respectable finish. Sadly though, the runner (Andy I think) who had stormed past me between CP1 and 2 had blown up and had nothing left, he looked in pain and was pretty miserable. However, he like Barry had clearly taken the sensible decision – I felt I still had this within me, just and I’m not one for common sense.
Andy and I set off in good cheer, having thanked Karen as we left, chatting a little here and there as we went – the next section was a fairly simple 8 miles and thankfully also uneventful save for seeing the sun start to come up and we could discard our headtorches. It was a consistent pace here and we simply watched our surroundings drift from our view, but what surroundings. I’ve been lucky enough to see the sunrise on spectacular views in places like Iceland, Ethiopia and Thailand but this was amongst the most amazing places to find the sun warm your face with its first glow. We felt better, we felt warmer and we soon found John and Allison and together we trudged to the final CP.
The guys were well prepared for us, the kettle was already on and I sat down to change my socks for a final time. Boom! I was going to make it! I could sense it, for the first time in over 60 miles I knew I had it in me despite everything that happened.
The four of us set off together though John and Allison clearly had more in the tank than I and so trundled in ahead. Andy warned that the next section was incredibly rocky, hilly and troubling. He was right.
After a short road section we rejoined the Skye Trail to find that the rocks cut through us like a hot knife through butter. Every step was sending shooting pain from my feet up to my neck. I was in agony, I was desperate to stop but the others were making slow but steady progress. We climbed and climbed for what felt an age, even the views out to sea could not soothe me now and my head was starting to fail me. I could hear myself saying ‘I just need to hold on, just hold on, 10 more miles’ we stopped at a gate to both regroup and discover than Andy’s right foot had exploded underneath – blood or pus we assumed. The four of us looked pretty broken but ultra runners have that weird tendency to say ‘fuck it, let’s do this’ and this was the point we were at. From here we followed the coastal path from Blaven to Broadford, this was a good path and if you were out doing a nice 10 mile run this would be awesome. You could move swiftly on the up and down, over rocks, jumping streams, taking in the smell of freshness all around – but we were slow, methodically placing our feet, trying to minimise damage.
I was frustrated for much of this because my body felt good but my feet offered me nothing and this was playing out as a battle in my head and as we trudged up the final trail ascent I wanted to simply stop and DNF. Andy took the tough love approach ‘well you’ll have to tell Jeff, he’s in Broadford’. Despite the fact I’d given up on myself Andy hadn’t and I tried to hold it together, I pressed on and on and we finally reached the ‘Marble Line’ a white marble gravel track. Andy had promised this would be easier going but the fine dust cut straight my Lone Peaks and caused nothing but excruciating pain.
I urged him to go on ahead – I would make it from here whatever happened but he told me ‘it was more than his jobs worth to leave a runner behind’. I groaned a lot over the last couple of miles as the sun beat down on me and I’m confident Andy could quite cheerfully have throttled me – I would have throttled me. But then I saw the final sign ‘Skye trail ultra’ in big black letters on a little yellow sign.
Less than a mile
I hobbled down to Broadford and Andy urged me to cross the line running. I advised I didn’t have it in me but when all was said and done I couldn’t crawl across the line and I insisted Andy run with me. To be honest it was all a blur, but I picked my feet up and gave what I imagine was my best Linford Christie. The crowd of supporters, runners and volunteers howled with encouragement as I threw myself across the finish and collapsed to the floor. Jeff seeming a little concerned I might be about to die but thanks to the care of my fellow competitors and a little tenacity from me I’d made it.
Have you ever been to the Isle of Skye? If yes then go back, if not then get up there. The route is everything you want from a race, it’s hard, exposed, unforgiving and unrelenting but it pays you back with views that so few people will actually ever see. It’s off the beaten track and it encourages you to think about your environment.
The Harvey’s Map is invaluable but Skye has clear natural markers that you can use to navigate but still it’s not a route to underestimate. That’s not to say that improvements couldn’t be made but if the race route didn’t change you wouldn’t be too worried, it is exceptional.
The Race Director
Jeff Smith is a man with a passion for the outdoors and that shows. His casual style hides his organised side but it’s this casual side that kept his event from feeling forced. Jeff is a dude and a dude who knows how to put on an event! My only complaint was that he shouldn’t have apologised at all for the number of runners, he should be incredibly proud of his achievements. He has produced an event that any race director would be proud of and I hope it grows bigger in the coming runnings.
Top notch – from the runners side it was all seamless – organised, early registration, easy transport to the start line, well drilled drop bag system and volunteers who couldn’t have done any more. It wasn’t slick that would suggest corporate nastiness, it was just knowledgable. It felt like it was organised and managed by runners and outdoors people – basically people who knew what they were talking about.
The first 26 mile section is too far without checkpoints – I understand you can’t have people with drop bags on the hills but this was hard. Even the water stop at 10km while welcome wasn’t enough and if someone went missing here you might struggle to narrow their location.
However, that being said, nobody died and that first section was a mighty and worthwhile challenge. As for the CPs themselves they were brilliant, the volunteers as I’ve said were tremendous. It seemed odd at first to not offer food but actually loading your own drop bags for each CP made sense – I had exactly what I wanted. Often at other events I ignore the food because it’s not what I want – the drop bag system worked well. I can imagine this might be more troubling if you’ve got an event with hundreds or thousands of people though.
I won’t remember all your names but I will remember what you did for me. Thank you guys. There’s also a special mention to The Big G (my boss) who came out to photograph the runners, we were all incredibly grateful for this support and I especially was because seeing a face I recognised was invaluable in those early stages. Thanks fella (in joke).
I’ve run alongside some truly great people over the last three years of ultra running and every single one of my fellow competitors was brilliant. But for me personally it’s Neil and Andy who I owe my finish to, thanks guys.
I paid what I thought would be a heavy injury price for completing the Skye Trail Ultra but there was an upside – my glutes didn’t fire and my hamstring held up. Yes I was sick, had a serious case of the galloping trots, sliced my legs apart and destroyed my toes and feet but when all is said and done I did a near 10 mile hike later on the day I finished. Effectively I was fine and once my feet stop burning and the skin heals I’ll be back to running (hopefully on Saturday, less than a week after the race).
The one bit of pain that won’t heal quickly is the cut in the old undercarriage. I did it when trying to get to Portree and some thorny thistle like crap ripped into my nuts. There’s a nasty cut from my bollocks heading backwards and so there’ll be no running until that’s healed and yes it hurts when I sit and it hurts when I walk – it just hurts! Hopefully this will heal quickly too, but we’ll see (with a complex combination of mirrors i might add).
Beanie, medal, trophy, sweeties, alcoholic ginger beer. Jobsagudun.
4/5 – given the distance, the elevation, warmth, midges, conditions underfoot I consider this a bit of a ball buster. If you gave it an inch it would take a yard or worse your leg. We had it pretty lucky with the weather but in more wintery or low visibility conditions this would surely be considered even tougher. Do not underestimate what is being asked of you, it might only be 74 miles but they are hard, worthwhile miles.
There are things I’d consider to make this an even better experience, the most important would be some minor adjustments to the route if possible – not to fundamentally change it but perhaps to make coming down off the ridge a little easier and descent into Portree more obvious, this would also potentially offer an earlier CP which we would all have been grateful for. Other than that only the trail route to Blaven might get looked at given the opportunity for debris on the trail.
In terms of organisation and everything else it was top notch and communication was good although I was required to re-activate my Facebook account to ensure I didn’t miss anything.
As a final point I think it would be great if the local community were more involved – local businesses, local people – everyone I told about it was fascinated and the community spirit on Skye appears incredibly strong – I think the race could easily harness this just as other events like Celtman do.
Would I do it again!?
I’ll be back, the course chewed me up and spat me out. On the scoresheet it reads UltraBoyRuns 0 – 1 Skye Trail Ultra. I’m unlikely to be back next year given my desire to do new things each year but assuming there is a 2018 I’d consider myself almost certain to be on the start line again. It takes courage or blind stupidity to complete this but if you do enter you won’t regret it, I know lots of you are thinking – dear god this poor sod has a terrible time with all his issues but believe me this race made me nothing but happy and I’m glad that Andy stopped from just sitting down in a field and crying myself into my bivvy bag 🙂
It’s the hardest, most insane race I’ve had the pleasure of doing. It tested fitness, stamina and tenacity. At no point did it say to me you can just call this one in – it demanded respect, it desired my attention.
This event turned me inside out, it made me sick, it made me bleed and it made me cry but it gave me the best memories of running I’ll ever have I think – and that’s high praise. The Skye Trail Ultra joins the SainteLyon at the top of my list of favourite races.
If you’re looking for the challenge of a lifetime, if you’re sick of running on roads, if you fancy getting properly lost inside yourself then this is the race for you. It’s got a little something for everyone and you’ll love it.
The race director might not blow the trumpet of this race but I will. So get your kit on, Skye awaits you but let me assure you with this one – the Skye might just be the limit.
Find out more at www.skyetrailultra.co.uk or search ‘skye trail ultra’ on Facebook (or you could just click the links!
A full gallery of photographs will be added shortly
My excuses: but I’ll still be taking part in the ‘Run for the 96’ join me? #jft96 #run
I’m getting in my excuses early for the terrible state of my running over the next 10 days … but I’m still going to be running.
- I’m an old fart
- I’m a grumpy old fart
- I’m a grumpy anti-social old fart
- I’ve currently got a chest infection and can hardly breathe
- I haven’t been able to train very much for the last four weeks because of illness and injury from my last race
- I’ve got a hamstring that burns every time I run
- I’ve got glutes that cause shooting pains right up my back whenever I run
- I’m racing in the 74 mile, Skye Trail Ultra – across big hills – in time 10 days time
- I’m running in the 78 mile Hillsborough to Anfield Run in 4 days time
- I’ll be taking part in the 5km ‘Run for the 96’ in 5 days time on Sunday 22nd May at Stanley Park between Goodison Park and Anfield – the homes of football in Liverpool.
What’s my point I hear you cry? Well I was getting to that, if I can do this then surely you can come help me do the 5km.
Go on you know you want to!
Online entries for the Run for the 96 close on Friday or you can enter in person at BTR until Saturday morning. Find out more here and you can enter here
See you on Sunday, you bring the crutches I’ll bring the tears, blisters and manky feet.
Ten reasons why should you complete the ‘Run for the 96?’ 5km #jft96 #run #5km
It’s been a couple of weeks since the verdict at the Hillsborough inquest was announced and it was a momentous moment for the families. Certainly it is a moment worth celebrating as we hope they are entering the final stages of achieving recognition for the innocent and accountability for the guilty.
It seems fitting that Liverpool has been gathering in various guises since to celebrate the verdict and the running community will be paying its tribute too when it gets together next week for the ‘Run for the 96’. It’s a wonderful 5km route through Stanley Park and its surrounds and it’d be awesome to see you there.
But why should you think about getting involved? Well I have a few good reasons;
- The verdict from the inquests deserves to be celebrated
- This event is part of the positive lasting legacy of the 96 victims of the Hillsborough tragedy
- It’s an opportunity for the community to come together not just in memory of the 96 but for those who have campaigned to say thank you
- Getting a bit of exercise on a Sunday morning never did anyone any harm
- Liverpool fans might be celebrating the winning of their first European title in a decade and want to share the love
- Liverpool fans might be commiserating the loss of their first European title in a decade and want to share their pain
- I’m going to need a great big crowd to help cheer me home after completing 80 miles in hours before the ‘Run for the 96’
- The medal is awesome
- The T-Shirt is awesome
- You get to witness UltraBoy beat his own father across the line Dick Dastardly style
So join in on Sunday 22nd May 2016 for a 5km that promises to have laughter and tears aplenty in the heart of Stanley Park, Liverpool. You don’t need to be a football fan, an elite athlete or even wear a shell suit – this is one event that really is all inclusive.
Find out more here and you can sign up here and I’ll look forward to running alongside you next weekend.
Photograph copyright: Liverpool Echo
Make the ‘Run for the 96’ a carnival atmosphere #TheTruth #jft96 #LFC #EFC #Finally
I’m not going to discuss the outcome of the Hillsborough inquest yesterday as others will offer more insightful and useful commentary than I. However, what seems to have come from it is an enormous outpouring of relief and thanks.
And it is the thanks I wish to address in my latest blog post.
When Dom Williams wanted to create a living legacy to the 96 I doubt even he would have thought how much of a celebration of life the ‘Run for the 96’ could become. This year after the verdict in Warrington the ‘Run for the 96’ should be like a carnival, celebrating a result that is richly deserved – and if you can please do join in.
Undoubtedly it will act as a memorial to the 96 victims, a tribute to those who fought for the truth but didn’t live to see it brought into daylight, a reminder of those who fought and supported through all the years and a doffing of the cap to everyone in a city brought together by such a tragic event.
But this is more than a reminder it’s a celebration, a thank you and it will be made all the more poignant if you’re there.
A special request to Everton Supporters. I realise you’ve had a rough season chaps and I know you were looking forward to going to Wembley for the F.A. Cup final but it wasn’t to be – however, let’s look on the bright side – you’re now free to join in with the ‘Run for the 96’. If you can’t celebrate lifting the cup why not help celebrate this momentous moment.
The support the families have received from the blue half of the city has never failed and my own father a life-long ‘blue nose’ would be delighted if you’d help him help make a sea of toffee blue amongst all the red.
A personal request from one runner to another. I’d love to see you all on the start line of the Run for the 96 on May 22nd. I suspect it will be an emotional occasion and everyone should be able to share in this hugely positive community event. So, bring yourself, bring supporters, bring me a 99 with a flake (just kidding about the ice-cream) but help make it a day to remember and ensure this sporting tribute lives long in the memory.
You can find out more here and enter the ‘Run for the 96’ here
What does 24hrs in the life of a runner look like and why? #UKRunChat #RunningLife
As I was stretching my calves yesterday within minutes of arriving home I realised for the first time in the near 5 years I’ve been running just how much time my favourite distraction takes up in my day.
And I began to wonder ‘is this normal?’
I started to look for research but most of it centres around what runners think about when they’re running. I’m interested in knowing if it’s healthy that I spend most of my day salivating at the prospect of running and looking through run related things.
My Daily Breakdown Let’s assume I get up around 5.30am and conclude my day around midnight – that’s a minimum of 18.5hrs per day to put running into.
So I wake up, showered, cup of tea, perhaps a yoghurt for breakfast and straight into my running kit. Place last few items of stuff into OMM 25 classic running bag. Spend at least a few minutes deciding which running shoes will cause me the least amount of aches on my RunCommute. I then begin the stretching that I need to do to make sure my glutes and calves don’t start firing the moment I leave the house and then at exactly 6.29am I leave the house for a couple of miles of running to the train station.
I usually arrive with seconds to spare, grab my seat and immediately reach for my phone to begin writing running blog posts, reading running blog posts or tweeting about running. That journey is about an hour and I usually get something out in the time, my only challenge being WordPress refusing to upload my photographs and a loss of signal as I enter Charing Cross.
As I leave Charing Cross I usually hit the afterburner and allow myself around 20-30 minutes of running through the backstreets of London, grabbing a snap or three of interesting buildings, sculptures or installations. Post run/pre work shower later I’m then usually hitting Instagram, replying to blog responses, etc – by 9am I’ve already done a reasonable amount of run related activities.
I’m lucky in my working life that my boss is also a runner and an extreme triathlete, this means much of the conversation during the day is about races, running, cycling and the Barkley. We supply each other with links to things such as stupid distance runs and ridiculously difficult OW swims.
If I ever got a lunch break then I’d be unlikely to run during it but I would (and on rare occasions do) go walking for an hour, this I feel helps keep my legs active despite having a sedentary desk job. However, when 5.30pm arrives I do my best to get out, get changed and hit the pavement – time and distance vary depending on running needs but I can be out for anything from 30 minutes to about 4 hours.
Once I arrive at a commuter train in the evening my time is usually spent doing one of a few things a) as tonight, blogging b) looking up races c) looking up kit d) looking up reviews for races or kit.
I might, if the fancy takes me, go for a bit more running (sometimes swimming) once I’m home but if not then it’s straight into foam rolling, stretching and preparing my running kit for the following day and so the cycle sets in again.
By the end of the day, if I’ve got either any energy or time left I’ll sometimes process race and running photographs for some slightly more creative, run related, projects I’ve been been working on but it amazes me how much of each and every day is spent revolving it’s way around my running endeavours.
It should be tiresome and dull, there shouldn’t be that much to blog about, there shouldn’t be that many races to look up or routes to run – but there is.
Do other aspects of my life suffer?
This I suppose is the real reason to ask the question. As a runner with a young family and a full time job both of these have been known to play second fiddle to my love of sport. However, I’ve never neglected either in favour of running, I think I’ve developed the art of multitasking and time management. I’ve let less important things slide in my life, things like peripheral friendships, days of hardcore nightclubbing, alcohol and working all the hours because these things were not improving either my life or aiding in the fulfilment of my running dreams. Obviously nothing’s perfect and sometimes I do misjudge the balance but I’ve come to understand how my own life works and I’m a better person for it.
Does running influence decision making?
Without a doubt running and the dominance of it in my life has a serious impact on decisions. The GingaNinja made certain choices about her new job because I wanted to ensure enough weekends were left free for me to be able to commit to racing. Running has been known to dictate holiday destinations, food choices and many other things. However, to me this doesn’t feel like a sacrifice, this feels like making the work/life balance right for me and the people around me.
However, I remember discovering the GingaNinja was pregnant. She told me from the shower cubicle and saying ‘Have you entered the CCC (2014)? Because you might want to rethink it as we’re probably having a baby that week’ – that’s the only time I’ve cancelled an entry and credit to the GingaNinja she provided a bloody good reason.
So does running dominate my life?
Yes probably, however, I’m happy about the impact it has and I’ve developed it in such a way that it doesn’t negatively impact everything else, in my opinion it improves the rest of my life – but then I would say that. The benefits of life that is dominated by running are too numerous to list but my physical and mental wellbeing are infinitely better for it.
How about your running life? Do you spend most of your day in run related thoughts and activities?
An act of vandalism to health & wellbeing #StokeGiffordParishCouncil #Parkrun
As I ran to the train station this morning for the first part of my RunCommute I thought about all the damage I was doing to the grass verges and pavements I ran on. Those same verges and pavements I run on every day, the ones that are run on by lots of my local community every day, the ones that help keep me and my local community fit and my thought led me to wonder what the hell Stoke Gifford Parish Council are on about.
I’m sure you know by now that Stoke Gifford Parish Council want to ‘tax’ runners for running at Little Stoke Parkrun – yep that’s right – we might already pay for the upkeep of our roads, parks, etc by the taxes we pay but this parish council think we should dig deep once again to take part in a community, volunteer led initiative.
I don’t want to lambast the council too much because that’s not going to help but I thought I’d tell you about my Parkrun experience and why I believe it’s important that it remains free.
Sadly I don’t Parkrun every week because of the amount of racing I do but I do it a reasonable amount, especially with my daughter, who loves the early morning get together and seeing people congregate around a love of community running.
She has no siblings so Parkrun is a great way for her to meet other babies while I get to do some running with her. I’m trying to encourage both her participation with and her understanding of people and the diversity and the positive energy that emanates from Parkrun is an easy win. I don’t go to Parkrun to annoy other park users, I don’t go to get a PB, I don’t even go on the off chance there’s a bit of cake or chocolate floating round as a reward for running 5km, I go because it’s good and I go because it’s free running with new and interesting people.
Is Parkrun free?
Parkrun isn’t really free – to the individual there’s the cost of transport, possibly accommodation, the cost of running kit, the cost of tea and cake afterwards – all worthwhile though. On my last visit to a Bristol based Parkrun I stayed in the city for the weekend and ate out, went to the zoo, did touristy things, perhaps I should have saved my money and put it elsewhere? I’m not the only one who does this – just look at Parkrunner and ultrarunner extraordinaire @abradypus who has racked up this weekend 250 Parkruns – I’m sure she’s kept the entire British economy going on her outlay!
There are so many benefits to doing and having a free Parkrun, these are some of my favourites;
- Parkrun helps brings to life (sometimes underused) green spaces
- Parkrun is a community event drawing on people from all ages and backgrounds – important when as a country we need to build bridges in community not divisions
- Parkrun gets people who might not normally exercise, exercising
- Parkrun allows you to run with your child (something very important to a buggy running parent like myself)
- Parkrun draws in tourism and these people can and do contribute to the local economy
- Parkrun is good PR for any council
- Parkrun will perhaps be the lasting legacy of the Olympics, I wonder how many of our greatest athletes have started here, will start here or have been to Parkrun – imagine if Kelly Holmes had rolled up to Little Stoke – would you have charged her to run?
- Parkrun as an initiative does more to help the nation remain healthy both physically and mentally than any other
So if there’s so many benefits what the heck are the council on about? Let’s look at the response from Stoke Gifford Parish Council.
Why should Parkrun UK contribute towards Little Stoke Park Maintenance?
- Parkrun are an organised group with paid directors and staff and attract over 300 runners using the park & facilities each week.
- There is no limit to the number of runners that use the park.
- They are sponsored by national companies.
- They monopolise the park paths and car park between 0830 & 1030 each Saturday and Sunday.
- They use the parks toilets and washing facilities.
- They use Council storage space.
- A large number of runners are from outside the Parish of Stoke Gifford and come from all across South Gloucestershire, Bristol and further afield to use the facilities in this area (which are financed by Stoke Gifford Council tax payers).
- Little Stoke car park is too small for their parking use.
- Complaints have been received from local residents relating to pavement & grass verge parking, park users and hall hirers regarding a number of incidents involving runners over the last three years.
The response from Parkrun is well worth a read but I’ve got some responses, not as fact and figure filled but still …
The the bit from the council that gets me the most is the ‘runners from outside the area’. I’ve run at Little Stoke and Ashton Gate in Bristol but I live in Kent and I’m from Liverpool – I travel a reasonable amount and where I lay my hat, well that’s my home. So which Parkrun should I go to? Come on Stoke Gifford Parish Council perhaps you can advise me? Am I supposed to stay at home and not go to events all over the country? Hmm.
I was amused by ‘they use the toilets’ – well yes I do and I’ll be honest you don’t want me leaving my case of GI distress all over your park do you Stoke Gifford Parish Council?
As for complaints I’m curious about this – as a runner I’ve been subject to unwarranted verbal abuse, being pushed into the road and other unpleasantness. However, I’ve never bothered to complain in any meaningful way – maybe some people are complainers and some of us just get on with life.
Then there’s monopoly – there were about 250 people in my train carriage today – we monopolised that, however, stood on the small concourse area we didn’t. I’m not sure 300 runners have the volume to monopolise an entire park.
The council are overreacting and blowing a half hour run out of all proportion.
…it’s true runners use the park, it’s true it’s an organised event, your car park probably is too small but maybe rather than complain about the car park size you could promote car pooling, cycling and running to the event itself more vigorously. I’m not convinced that your arguments are good enough to warrant discrimination against this free running event.
The Bigger Picture
Then there’s the bigger picture and this is what it’s all about really. Parkrun gets people up and about – inspires them to fitness, keeps them off NHS waiting lists, make them feel good, therefore keeping them out of the shrinks office and off the happy pills. If it disappears it’s sad to say but people will suffer.
I met an older retired lady at Ashton Gate Parkrun last year who told she had met many wonderful people since she joined Parkrun after her husband passed away. That she looked forward to her Saturday morning jaunt and catch up with people she would not have met in her normal day to day life. I wonder – will any of the six councillors go round to this lady and keep her company when her council too decides that they’d rather runners paid?
The funny thing is I’ve met lots of people like this – with stories to tell – about how Parkrun, a free, community event made life better.
Don’t ruin this for the people of your Parish and ultimately anywhere a Parkrun runs.
I’ll be writing to the individual councillors over the next few days if only to ensure that my voice is heard and to express my dismay at this act of vandalism to the health and wellbeing of the people you claim you want to support.
You have an opportunity to back down, to consider the corner you’ve backed yourself into and realise you’re wrong. Stoke Gifford Parish Council do something positive today and reverse this decision.
How goes it UltraBoy? Hillsborough to Anfield Run & The Run for the 96 #jft96 #JoinIn #Running
In a few weeks time a hardy group of runners will aim to get from Sheffield to Liverpool in memory of the 96 victims of the Hillsborough tragedy. As many of my regular readers will know I’ll be joining the team for The Hillsborough to Anfield run this year on what marks a significant milestone in the families quest for the truth over what really happened on April 15th 1989.
There were a number of important things for me to consider when I decided to join in with the H2A guys.
Can I do it? Well the distance isn’t a problem really and nor is the route itself – the amount of road running is of mild concern but training has been steady if unspectacular and other than my ITB firing up to crucify me this weekend I had a good Ranscombe Challenge/Ramble. The Isle of Skye race the weekend after poses more of a problem in terms of capability but as long as the H2A doesn’t go out all guns blazing I should be fine.
Training is being ramped up even now and normally after a weekend of 40 odd miles I’d have a few days off but this time I’m straight back into it and intending to stay ‘into it’. This is one I don’t want to come away from disappointed in my own performance.
Should I do it? This was a very big consideration for me for several reasons, but one reason sat at the forefront of my thinking.
As well as being one of the runners, he has been prominent in the search for the truth regarding the tragedy. He has carried the weight of the brother he lost for 27 years and through some of the most difficult times, however, he continues to show a tenacity and humility that few could argue with and is a beacon of inspiration to anyone who has faced adversity.
It was therefore with trepidation that I approached the event as I wouldn’t want to be a Johnny-come-lately. However, the opportunity to support my dad as he attempts to go further than ever before seemed the right kind of symbolism and the right kind of message about the positive nature of our relationship and how from tragedy positive things can happen – plus who better than his ultra running off-spring to make sure he gets to Anfield.
What’s in it for you UltraBoy? That’s a very good question and the answer is simple – running is something I can do, sometimes I’m even okay at it. I’m not so good at all the other things that the families, survivors and victims needed but I can run and if this helps draw a light not just to this injustice but all injustices, if it reminds people of the power and value of community then the running I and the team do will be worth it and that’s what’s in it for me.
Why do it so long after the tragedy? 27 years is a long time to wait for the truth but with the Hillsborough inquests drawing to a close and the verdict hopefully due soon it seems like this run will be a little like a full stop, an opportunity to say thank you, an opportunity to – in some cases – say goodbye.
For example, this will be the final year of a major memorial at Liverpool FC’s stadium and while there will be many legacies left over from the tragedy I hope the families can live out the rest of their lives in peace and with a sense of justice having finally been reached. They’ve earned some peace via the hardest route.
The run though seems like the right tribute at the right time, not just those who died on the day but those who didn’t make it to this point – family, friends, supporters and more.
What about the ‘Run for the 96?’ If I make it to Anfield I’ll be having a crack at the 5km run in Stanley Park. This is one of the brilliant legacies to come out of the ashes of the tragedy – bringing people together, engaging the community, reminding everyone that something like Hillsborough should never be allowed to happen again and getting them fit and running
If you can join in then please do so – I really would love to see you all there in a sea of blue and red. As an old Liverpool fan who lives far from the city I’d urge football fans, running fans and everyone else to lace up their trainers or slip on your flip flops and join me and everyone else for 5km in Liverpool on May 22nd.
And while I’m told it’s not a race I’ll be happy to give anyone who fancies it a bit of a 100 metre sprint even with a possible 78 miles in my legs and no sleep, now that surely is a challenge nobody can resist! Ha!
You can enter the Run for the 96 here. See you there.
Race: A challenge and a Ramble – I love a day at Ranscombe #Run
Love is an overused word in today’s society but when you talk about a SVN event ‘Love’ is the only word that even comes close to describing it and Ranscombe brings with it a special kind of love.
In the shadow of the SDW50 this lovely pair of events take place on the Ranscombe Farm Reserve in the sometimes sunny, often rainy Kent countryside. I’ve reviewed this challenge event before – which you can read about here – so I shan’t bore you with a blow by blow account of the route but I will add a few new bits below;
My opinions have hardly changed on this glorious event except to say that it has gotten even better with the addition of fruit and savoury snacks at the very generous aid station.
With regard to the two (one mildly and one very) different routes Ranscombe should be an event that we all put on our trail running calendars as the trail was challenging, beautiful and a pleasure. Rachel, Traviss and the support crew should be warmly applauded for the care and effort that go into making the Ranscombe experience so wonderful.
The only thing left to mention is my own running! So how did that go? On the Saturday I attacked the course for much of the first 15 miles, running (slowly) most of the hills and banging out the downhills. Even as the ground became increasingly cut up I managed to hold my nerve as I’d picked the excellent Hoka Tor Speed for the job and they responded well to all but the sloppiest of the mud. The addition of a trip to the Darnley Mausoleum was a delight and the final field had been replaced with a run through the Bluebell Woods. I was having a delightful time.
For the second 15 miles I clung on a bit, chatting to Claire, Claire, Lorraine, Elaine, Nick and I think Adam (though I missed his partner Claire, who i’d spoken to via this blog earlier in the week). Apologies to any of the Claire’s who are a Clare or other variation 😀. I even managed a dirty sprint finish which always makes me feel better. Saturday was a good day and I’d really enjoyed myself and felt genuinely energised.
I went shopping post race and later home in a surprisingly good mood – my legs had held up well, I hadn’t over eaten and I was well hydrated. I knew I’d need to stretch and foam roller but that’s par for the course when you’ve run 31 miles one day and aim to do the same the next.
I therefore rolled up to Rachel’s Ranscombe Challenge on Sunday morning feeling very chipper and said hello to the ever awesome Gary and Karen, who I’d previously met on a couple of Centurion jaunts. The smile was moderately wiped from my face though when I saw a sweating and tired looking Traviss roll up after course marking duty.
It seemed that the brand spanking new 5.25 mile lap was going to be a killer. It seemed that SVN wanted to make sure we all got value for money on the course we ran! Guys you need not have bothered I’d have been happy with something flat 🙂
I’d decided to wear calf compression for the Sunday in the belief that they’d hold me together but as we set off I could feel pain in my left leg which I considered a poor sign. Regardless I ambled along at a reasonable pace, taking it easy through the rolling woodland and even more rolling hills. The route was a brilliant mixture of hills, mud and honest trail, the problem was that I was hobbling at less than 2 miles in. In my head I told myself to keep going and as I meandered up the hills towards the end of lap one I was conscious of every step I was taking.
However, at the aid station I ran into mister awesome himself – Greg. A hundred marathon club member and all round good egg and I motored through the first couple of miles of the course with him and chatted delightfully for a while. However nothing could mask the pain I was in and as we drew up to the flat I bade him farewell.
I made my way gingerly down the hills and slowly uphill – pain shooting up and down my leg. I was never going to make it another 15 miles and I knew it – all I’d be doing would be running races further into the year and that seemed counter productive. Therefore, I made the decision to call it quits. I phoned the GingaNinja and asked her to evacuate me and crawled back to the checkpoint.
I couldn’t have been any more deflated in finishing lap 2, this was worse than my failure at the Winter100 or the CCC and I was grateful for the kind words of Rachel, Dee and Jan who are always awesome. I’m still pretty deflated now as I write this on my way to work.
Of course I received my medal for a paltry 11 miles and I should have been overjoyed as the medal is a thing of beauty but I feel a little bit hollow about how badly I did.
The consolations are that I suspect it was the calf compression guards causing the issue on my ITB – so although it helped on my destroyed right leg it ruined my left leg – something to experiment with.
The course was amazing and I hope this becomes a permanent Ranscombe route as I’d like to get out there and run it again. The medals, especially for the Sunday were spectacular and as I’ve mentioned earlier the improvements of the aid station snacks to include savoury have elevated these events to heights I didn’t think possible!
My thanks to everyone involved and well done to all the participants – you all did exceptionally well. And I promise I’ll be back later in the year to take on Ranscombe again.
UltraBoyRuns seeks ‘Racy April’ (big rolling hills and lots of personality a must) #Ranscombe
Sounds like an advert I’d put in a lonely hearts column – looking for a racy lady named April, big ‘hills’ and personality to match? I think I’d probably get some exciting responses. Thankfully it’s not a dating advert but something I was looking for in April and that was a challenging race to help condition me for a manic May.
What did I find? Well I’ll be doing the Ranscombe Double. The ‘Challenge’ event on the Saturday is a 4.4 mile undulating 8hr timed run while Sunday brings the ‘Ramble’ another 8hr event but a hillier 5.25 mile route. Both will be trail, both will be muddy and by the looks of things both will be like I’m hoping ‘Racy April’ is, moist.
I’ve run Ranscombe three times with SVN events and it never fails to impress and I’ll be chowing down on as much deliciousness as I can stuff into my cake hole.
The aim is a minimum of a marathon on each day but ideally 30 miles per day would set me up nicely for the Hillsborough to Anfield Run and Skye Ultra Trail in May (both over 70 miles). But after feeling pain in my right leg post last weekends hilly 14 mile buggy run I’ll take whatever distance I can manage and not push too hard for fear of further damage.
So good luck chaps for anyone else running this weekend and have fun.
More than another 80 mile ultra, this one is important #Hillsborough2AnfieldRun
It’s nearly 2 years since I completed the WNWA96 (read about it here), a walking event that for me turned into a running ultra distance event. As some of you will remember it was a very special event as it was organised by my dad and it was with a great sense of pride that I completed the entire distance despite looking like I might pass out at the end.
I recall being sat outside Anfield, the home of Liverpool F.C. at the end of the journey silently recalling what had taken place and watching the joy on the faces of those who took part. Importantly though I listened to the moving tributes being given to those who had lost their lives all those years ago – it was an incredibly emotional experience for everyone there.
Since the WNWA96 I’ve completed a load of ultras, a few marathons, had a brush or three with serious injury and gained a daughter. For the families of the victims they have had the long running inquest into the events of April 1989, which as I write, is in the summing up stages and therefore hopefully drawing to its conclusion. Given all this it seemed the right time to get involved again – at an event where I can hopefully make a difference. Now perhaps it’s just good fortune or serendipity but an opportunity has arisen for me to get involved.
I’ve been aware for some time of Dom Williams, an ultra runner (excellent finish at the RoF to prove it), the kind of ultra runner you’d want to be and the man behind the Hillsborough to Anfield Run in memory of the 96 people who so tragically lost their lives in 1989 as well as the Run for the 96 5km run.
A conversation between us arose out of my blog post concerning the Run for the 96 (read about it here and then enter here). We eventually discussed whether it would be possible for me to run some or all of the Hillsborough to Anfield 79 mile route as part of the team that will be attempting it. However, because I am racing the Skye Ultra Trail a week after the H2A Run I said I’d love to do it another year but that 2016 was unlikely. I also had family joining me in Liverpool that weekend which made it all the more difficult and so I knew it wasn’t to be
What a difference a couple of weeks make
That was a couple of weeks ago and I was looking for a way to say ‘yes I’m in’ because this was an event I felt I wanted to do. I was especially keen as I knew that my dad was involved once again and running with him is always quite a special experience. Thankfully, it seemed destiny had a place on that team for me when the GingaNinja said ‘I can’t get up to Liverpool that weekend’ I now had a little more flexibility in timings.
But what about the race the week after?
Ah, well I figure its going to be great training for the Leeds to Liverpool Canal Run 130 in August and sometimes when amazing opportunities present themselves you just have to do them.
And so I spoke with Dom over the Easter weekend and suddenly I find myself ‘in’. The team will run around 79 miles from Sheffield to Liverpool with the aim for the whole team to arrive in time to take part in the Run for the 96 5km at Stanley Park (the ground that lies between Goodison Park and Anfield). So, a little over 80 miles in around 21hrs, it’s far from a walk in the park but its very achievable.
I’ll be writing about my progress periodically and I’d appreciate your support whether you’re on Facebook, Twitter or I know you in real life. If you can make it then I’d love to see you at the 5km run on Sunday 22 May or simply come and wave the team in when it arrives into Liverpool. Events like this are all about community, the community of the runners, the community of the supporters and the community of the families that have fought for more than a quarter of a century for the truth they deserve.
This is is a special event, take a look at the Hillsborough to Anfield Run here, I hope you’ll find it as inspiring as I do.
Finished with a fast Finnish #FinlandAdventures
Why would you ever consider going to Finland? Well having recently returned from there I can tell you that it’s a properly awesome place – I was there for a ball breaking activity trip with a hunt for the Aurora Borealis thrown in for good measure. 2016 is going to be another year of adventuring and this put me in a very good frame of mind for those adventures.
If you head to northern Finland you’ll discover a few things, the first is snow, the second is the lack of people and third is some of the most beautiful land in the whole world. Three things I can wholeheartedly appreciate.
Now, given that this is mainly a blog about running you’ll be unsurprised to learn that in my relatively short jaunt there I squeezed in (with the family) quite a lot of running, a decent amount of hiking, some excellent cross-country skiing, mining, sledging, snowmobiling* and reindeer riding* – there was also a tremendous amount of eating with the highlight surely being the reindeer, berry and chilli sauce pizza. I doubt my words can really do justice to how spectacular a country Finland is and in particular Phya-Luosto where I stayed so below are some pictures from the experience.
What I will say is that although Finland is a relatively expensive country it’s a country where you get value for money. Every activity I engaged in felt like you were getting more than you had paid for and I like that – a lot.
It’s also a stunning place to go running / snow-shoeing in – a trail runners nirvana one might say. I chose not to go for the snow shoes as it was quite late in the season and I felt my Hoka Tor Speed were good enough for most Finnish trails and this proved the case even though I spent most of my time ‘off piste’ looking for deep trails in the middle of nowhere. I haven’t had this much fun running for years and I loved the fact that despite the chill in the air you could actually run in short sleeves if you chose to, it really wasn’t that cold and the lack of moisture in the air meant conditions were just perfect – I could have run there all day every day.
The bonus of course was that the northern lights came out to play on our final night there and so it was a trip that started brilliantly and finished on a huge high. So, if you, like me, enjoy your adventures and enjoy trying new things then northern Finland might be the right place for you.
Check it out.
*I just attended other people doing these activities, I was on parenting duty.
Review: The Green Man Ultra and the free all body mud scrub #GMU
I remember as I lay on the pavement just after the car hit me thinking that ‘The Green Man Ultra might be a DNS’ but roll back towards the middle of February and I was thinking ‘The Green Man Ultra is probably going to be a DNS because of this horrid chest infection’. To complete the tale of woe UltraBaby decided she would choose the night before the race to stay awake all night and keep both the GingaNinja and I up.
So rather miserably on Saturday 5th March at about 5.30am I got up and got ready for The Green Man Ultra. To say I wasn’t ready is an understatement.
I rocked up with rather grumpy GingerNinja and even grumpier UltraBaby to the awesome starting facilities at Ashton Gate – not far from where the Parkrun kicks off from.
Then came the first positive of the day, as I was collecting my number a familiar, yet new face came beaming towards me – @knocker73 – awesome. After a number of near misses over the years we finally got to meet and what an awesome, humble and tremendous young chap he is. The start line was filled with lots of familiar faces, many of them from Twitter and I managed to say hola to lots of them – especially once I’d found the ever brilliant Roz Glover. But there were also those I missed like @razzledazzlemark (another day buddy).
It was a cold and crisp morning but it was also bright and there had that hint of moisture in the air – lots of the runners had chosen to go out in waterproofs but as is normal for me I chose my standard combo of Ronhill and lovely Eco Green top from the Snowdonia Marathon. I’d chosen my Ronhill shorts too but this was a practical issue as the pockets on the outside would allow me to safely stow my GoPro and run without fear of loss. Having checked conditions with some of the local runners it was suggested that it was going to be a mud bath – I looked down at my Altra Lone Peak 2.0 and I feared for my safety.
Regardless of kit issues the briefing was over and we were off. I started, as has become my custom, at the back of the field and gently wandered through the field picking up my pace to stay just behind Ira Rainey (the 10hr timekeeper) – I figured if my body was okay I’d probably run something like about 9hrs and I’d push on past him once I’d figured the route out.
Conditions though were muddy and the hundreds of runners going through prior to me had cut it up nicely so it was as much mud sliding as it was running and each of the ‘hundreds’ of stiles meant that by the time you’d gotten into your stride there was another gate to clamber over or get through. However, after the first few steady ascents and descents I had relaxed into the race and found myself warming to the possibility of running a decent time. The trouble was that I could feel the niggle of the previous weeks car crash and by mile 3 it was a raging burning sensation through my groin, my right leg and lower back.
The pain was preventing me eating much as well and so at about mile 5, as I ran into a lovely gentleman called James, I started to chow down on food and drink to see if that would get my mind off the more problematic things. It worked while I was eating but nothing more.
The good news though was that Bristol and North Somerset are replete with beautiful scenery and as I looked up I could see nothing but fantastic views of our fantastic countryside. This was why I was here today.
Pulling in to CP1 I stopped for 2 or 3 minutes, watched Ira Rainey leave the checkpoint with his band of merry runners and then quickly followed. By now I realised I was slowing so my aims had to change and so I focused on staying ahead of the 11 hour pacer.
Through gritted teeth now I ran harder between CP1 and 2 than I had the first section but I was slower, my effort wasn’t being rewarded with results but pushing on I stayed ahead of the pacer. Here though it turned sweet and sour, firstly I could see Roz in the distance and so I put a spurt on to see if I could make CP2 before she did and then I came across ‘real mud’. I’d seen the previous pair of runners clamber across on a metal fence like a pair of monkeys but I felt with the right combination of pace and effort it was runnable.
How wrong can you be? My Clarkson-esque ‘more power’ gave rise to a defining moment in the race.
Slop! Slop! Fart! Fart! My feet became stuck but my body continued its progress forward and I was sent straight into the muddy abyss. Thankfully my Lone Peaks stayed on my feet and the dirty girl gaiters kept me locked in but I was covered from head to toe in crap. I wiped myself clean with all the buffs I had and then used what areas of my clothes that remained clean to wipe the rest off me. I climbed over to the fence and fought my way through the bog.
I don’t know if Roz was laughing at me, but if she was I hope she enjoyed it because had I seen me do that – well let’s say I’d have been amused. We ran together for the next 20 minutes too which was lovely as I often only see her at race starts and finishes or as she’s going past me. But Roz as ever looked every inch the legend she is and powered on to CP2 a little ahead of me. By the way, as an aside if Roz ever mentions ‘Dickslam’ or ‘Cockslam’ rest assured she’s talking about races and not knackering your knacker projectile launcher.
I pulled into CP2 – ate delicious jam sandwiches (no crust) and then promptly left heading straight to CP3. Alone now I was contemplating the DNF or my preferred RTC (refuse to continue), I was in agony but I faced the mental demons and reminded myself I was here to collect a medal and so I pushed on.
About 6 miles in to CP3 the 11 hour pacer finally caught me and so I used this as an opportunity to find my time bearings – how close to the right pace was he going, etc. He thought he was around 5 minutes ahead of time and he had a significant group with him – I stayed roughly with them for the next hour but eventually as we hit Tarmac my body failed and I slowed letting them go past – I was going to be timed out. All this way, all this pain, all for nothing.
‘Pain, time, effort, illness, sleeplessness and I will finish because I’m more than halfway there’ I told myself and then something happened that would change the course of my race and her name was Elaine.
Elaine. A very youthful forty-something (be rude to give an exact age) ultra running lady who was having a mentally challenging time. It’s fair to say, having lost the 11 hour pacer, she looked like her race was over. However, Elaine gave me the opportunity to focus on problems that weren’t my own and we chatted for a little while. Within a few moments I had warmed enormously to Elaine and we ground out the distance to CP3 where we both had support waiting for us. She had the awesome Gary, husband and supporter extraordinaire and I had the GingaNinja, UltraBaby and the Continental Trio.
I gulped down milkshake, said Adios to the support and threw on a waterproof after being hail stoned. Grabbing my running buddy, Elaine we set off. We’d agreed that we would aid one another for the remainder of the race, effectively we’d pace each other to the finish knowing that time was now against us.
She was calm, understated and brilliant and I was upbeat, frantic and woefully inadequate but it was a good mix of temperaments. It was when I found myself feeling leaden and she turned and said to me, ‘anyone’d think you’d been hit by a car!’ that I realised I was going to make it and in the best of company.
We pulled apart the next section in good time and that was because (I hope) that we were inspiring one another to go that bit faster and that bit harder. Suddenly inclines and mud seemed a little less difficult and we covered a wide range of topics in conversations as the miles drifted away. I won’t say that the journey to CP4 was easy but it was a more balanced effort. It was all just coming together and the problems that had plagued me earlier in the day, while still there, seemed less significant. I hope the same can be said for my partner.
Tim. It was here that we met ‘Tim’. I know that lots of you will have met him, he was just a guy with a car, by a church, handing out goodies just when we needed them – he’d done the race the year before and we appreciated him taking the time to sit in the cold and wait for the exhausted runners to give them food and drink (and in our case a hug). I had lots of fizzy haribo. Yum.
Once we had passed Tim we started to focus on the final jaunt to mile 39. It was the grind now but actually good humour was holding it all together and nothing highlights that as much as our enclounter with a group of youths …
The VCR Tape Gang. We passed by a group of youths on the road, nothing unusual about that you might say, however, they had been unfurling the contents of old VHS tapes and I couldn’t help but advise them that ‘VHS has had its day, it’s old technology’. This was greeted by a torrent of abuse suggesting that we hurry up and the like. Having had my fun with them and a bit of a laugh I concluded the discourse with the following statement ‘I’m related to Jimmy Saville you know!’
It raised a titter in the running ranks and our young friends promptly left to get on with it.
At CP4 there was just time for a weewee stop for one of us – I’d drained the lizard just beyond CP3 so used the opportunity to give a progress update to the GingaNinja and suggested that we were about 10km and at current pace we’d be done in about 80 minutes. CP4 also gave me an opportunity to chat to a first time ultra widow and her family, we had a few gentle laughs about being stuck in the cold and waiting around for runners that might never appear. Her partner was several miles behind us and as I left I wished her and her runner well knowing that he was rapidly running out of time.
We pushed on uphill and back through the mud, only stopping for an enforced ‘headtorch breakout’. Fully lit we pushed on, watching the map, watching the Suunto and most importantly, watching the clock. Onwards through to Bristol and we could finally see things we knew (well things I knew) and the Tarmac hills felt heavy under my feet – the pounds of mud that caked my Altra was now starting to become strewn across the city, I could taste the finish line.
The GingaNinja passed us in the car and waved us on – we were nearly there. Entering the final uphills, each step started to feel like a winning step and the night became illuminated as we crossed the Clifton Suspension Bridge – a truly magnificent sight.
A little further and Elaine egged us onwards, I egged us onwards and we reached the summit of Ashton Gate and into the deer park. Boom!
There was no time for messing around – we had momentum and we hurled our bruised and battered bodies to the fore. Through the final gate and in the distance we could see the small group of people lining the way. We grasped each other’s hands and began our ‘fast’ finish – the GingaNinja and Gary (Elaine’s excellent other half) waiting to congratulate us.
Over the line! I was delirious.
I felt like dying, every pain that I’d held back simply coursed through my veins, I was suitably broken. But I’d made it and the Green Man Ultra was beaten, even if it was, in my case, a narrow points victory.
The Route. What can you say? It’s undulating, there’s a few steep bits, there’s mud (up to your eyeballs in my case) and there was some stunning scenery to admire. The Green Man is a pretty route – a shame about the amount of gates and stiles you need to get through but these are a very minor distraction to a great course. You should do this just for the course.
Marshals/Volunteers/Support. As with all ultra races the support tends to be checkpoint based and this was no different and it was universally excellent. Everything from the casual ease of the registration through to the handing out of jam sandwiches, medals and certificates this was one slick operation. A mention must go to the people on the course too – Tim, with his unofficial checkpoint, the cowbellers with the pretzels and the family at the park with jelly beans – they all made me smile. There was also the genuine and heartfelt congratulations from the Bristolians as ultra runners invaded their city. This was a good old knees up. For me though I’d like to say a big thank you to Ian, the 11 hour Timelord who put up with my wittering about getting extra time for far too long. So thanks you everyone you made this a very friendly experience.
Value for money? Always a bone of contention for me. Do you get your money’s worth? Let’s break it down; entry to the race with a stunning course to run, a bespoke medal, bespoke T-Shirt, included race photography, certificate, food on the course, hot food afterwards, showers, good change and toilet facilities and all the usual gubbins! Yep this was a value for money ultra.
Elaine. If you know her, if you’ve met her, if you see her then always pass on my good wishes and thanks. She’s a tremendous runner with a great future in the sport and for me personally she was the perfect antidote to day I was having. I’ll always be incredibly grateful to her as her spirit was so incredibly strong. If you read this young lady – recover well and start your preparations for the next one soon!
Kit? I chose mostly the right kit and the altra LP2.0 despite being slip slide actually help up amazingly well and combined with my drymax socks kept my feet in good condition. The Ronhill shorts with the gel pockets also worked a treat as a secure location for my GoPro and extendable reach stick – so lots of steady footage shot of the race and me running it. The thing I got wrong was good and I’ll need to assess that for next time – the sweet and fruit options were fine but my savoury choices made me choke and that’s not what you want.
UltraBoyRuns? Don’t run an ultra on no training (chest infection), no sleep (naughty UltraBaby) or having just survived being hit by a car mere days earlier. I was foolish to think about starting but I wouldn’t have missed it. I finished bloodied, bruised and injured and in a rubbish time but eventually all that fades and what’s left is I ran the 45 miles.
Conclusions? The Green Man is fun, friendly, beautiful, intimate, tough and brilliant. It has something for everyone and I highly recommend you add this to your race calendars – it’s one I’d go back to. Don’t let the fact it’s a shorter distance ultra put you off, the mud makes this a challenge, the route is a challenge and the time of year is a challenge. Give this a go, you won’t regret it.
Name: The Green Man Ultra Organisers: Ultrarunning Ltd Location: Bristol Distance: 45 miles approximately Course: Muddy, undulating, runnable
Why enter ‘The Run for the 96?’ #Liverpool #UKRunChat
How often do you enter a 5km race anymore? Probably not very often – even at the start of my racing career 5km was never a chosen race distance. It’s probably because it has been purloined by those cheeky types at Parkrun. However, today I entered my first 5km race in about 3 years and I can give you 96 reasons why you should consider joining me.
In April 1989 the Hillsborough football tragedy led to the death of 96 Liverpool football fans and decimated the lives of many, many others. Now nearly 27 years later – what we all hope are the final days of the inquest into what happened on that terrible day.
When I saw the inaugural running of the event last year I felt the need to return home (with UltraBaby) to take part in the run named in honour of those that died – The Run for the 96. Sadly life conspired against me taking part but in its second running I am all signed up and raring to go.
As regular readers may remember I took part in the WNWA96 event organised by my dad a couple of years ago to say thank you for the support the families have been given and to remember those who had been lost over the 25 years since the tragedy occurred. This event though is a little different in that it’s for anyone and a great way to earn a cracking medal while doing a bit of exercise.
My dad, whose brother was killed at Hillsborough, will be involved in the ‘Run for the 96’ event and I’m looking forward to taking part because if, as we hope, the inquests finally provide the closure necessary for the families, then this run will be a fitting tribute to my uncle and to those who have fought so long. Plus, for me the bonus is that I’ll get to cross the finish line as part of three generations of my family – that’s always very special.
If you’d like to take a look at the event click on the link here and consider joining me on May 22nd (I’ll be the one cracking out the distance while pushing a baby and probably trying to keep up with a Spaniel). Let’s not forget 5km is a distance any idiot can do and that must be true because my Dad is doing it.
See you there.
Image copyright Liverpool Echo
Entries closing 01.03.16 Skye Ultra Trail – Quick Enter! #UKUltraChat #Scotland
There’s less than a week left to enter the Skye Ultra Trail. You might be thinking I have some vested interest in you running it, well you’re wrong – if you run it that’s more competition for my finishing position and to the amount of cake I get to eat – but I still want you to come along and race it. It’s not a big race, it’s small and intimate and all the better for it I reckon.
Here’s why I decided I wanted to race it and I think these reasons will prove more than adequate to have you reaching for your debit card to join in…
- It’s a small, intimate looking race.
- It’s in a remote location (Isle of Skye) on a little island off the Scottish coast.
- It has unbelievable scenery.
- If, like me, you’re English you can take advantage of the United Kingdom staying together and say thanks in person to the lovely Scottish people for staying the union.
- You can eat Haggis Melts until you explode at Cafe Sia in Broadford.
- The Isle of Skye has the, now disused, airfield seen at the beginning of Flash Gordon – you can go and re-create a famous scene from a classic film (I know I will be), or you can admire where Prometheus was shot further north on the island.
- You get to run in a 74 mile race from the top of the island to the bottom.
- You’ll be supporting a small beautifully formed race and help ensure it returns year after year after year.
- You get to meet me and see me cry my way through some of the UK’s finest trails.
- This is the best thing you’ll ever do with the late May Bank Holiday weekend.
So don’t delay, Jeff, the Race Director is closing the entries so he can, presumably, sensibly prepare for the people he knows he has. You don’t want to miss out on this!
I’d recommend viewing the Sage Clegg hike on the Isle of Skye to get a feel about the race you could be running – the video is here – see you there hopefully.
Enter here or search ‘Skye Ultra Trail’ on Facebook – you won’t regret it.
Photo. Rob Van de Berg
Two Questions: The Green Man Ultra #GMU #GreenMan #UKUltraChat
1. With the Green Man Ultra less than two weeks away am I going to need a beard? I somehow feel this is a beardy kind of race.
2. Given I can’t shake my chest infection would I be better off simply DNS-ing rather than risk putting myself through it and making myself more sick? I have a habit or running when I shouldn’t of course.
My story of CountrytoCapital, yet not exactly my story: @gobeyondsport
I don’t gravitate towards people very often and I’m not easily impressed but EmLa is one of those people who gets right under your skin and you can’t help but be amazed by her.
Let me explain what happened.
It was about a year ago and EmLa had finished reading Ira Rainey’s excellent ultra running book ‘Fat Man to Green Man’ and I may have suggested that in her was a bonafide ultrarunner, I may have then given her a gentle prod for Country to Capital when entries came-a-calling and I may have persuaded her to rock up in the middle of Autumn to come eventing at her first (but hopefully not last) SVN run – the Ranscombe Challenge. But as EmLa says if she hadn’t wanted to do these things then nothing on earth could have motivated her to do it. However, her signing up to this was in the fury of the preparation for climbing Kilimanjaro (yes I shit you not this girl is a real adventurer) and so she was on a roll and I had no doubt she was going to become the latest member of the ultra marathon community.
And so to January 16th and about 7.35am. In the pub I bobbed down to the registration and who is there looking larger than life and a bit nervous but my partner for the day – EmLa.
We chatted for a bit, I introduced the ever awesome Totkat and we both met Ira Rainey and Mary from the excellent ahealthiermoo blog (check it out here), UltraBaby and the GingaNinja were also on hand for deflection of nerves and the creation of chaos. A near perfect race morning then!
But time was moving on, we did final kit checks, stripped down a bit to the right level of clothing and then joined the assorted runners outside. Here EmLa and I ran into the ever awesome and genuinely brilliant Naomi Newton Fisher – it seemed we were all starting at the back! Anyway, the start line began to move and EmLa and I drifted forward slowly. With the GingaNinja on the opposite of the road taking videos and photographs at least one of us took the opportunity to wave goodbye (it wasn’t me).
We headed down through Wendover and through the first bits of Tarmac until we hit the trails and EmLa held a solid pace. We chatted a bit but you could tell that focus was needed on the running. We had agreed that I’d do most of the talking and more importantly that if she started to consider the ‘RTC’ (refuse to continue) I was to give her tough love (a punch in the face was my preferred tough love). This meant sadly I had to listen to the sound of my own voice but it did mean I got to tell crap stories to someone new. Now the first section of Country to Capital has a few stiles in it and therefore rhythm can be difficult to find but this allowed both of us to find our feet and judge the terrain. Being a cold, crisp day meant that everything was a little icier than I had expected but there was still water in the ground and mud everywhere! Still this made for near perfect trail conditions and we continued to make steady progress and despite the challenges of the terrain I pushed EmLa a little harder than she had expected.
We also had the good fortune to meet lots of lovely runners between CP1 and CP2 and as the trails were eaten up under pounding of our shoes I was buoyed by how strong EmLa looked. For me it was more challenging as my hamstrings and glutes (which had been rumble rolled and stretched that morning) were already sending shooting pains up my leg, but at only 3 miles in I felt that it was best to try and shake it off.
One of the big mistakes I made at my first ultra was not eating and drinking enough and so I made sure I was eating and drinking regularly, now while I couldn’t force her, I suggested that my run buddy did much the same and so it seemed at least one of us (me) was very much banqueting their way round the course (pepperoni pizza, Mexican cheese parcels and BBQ chicken, Reece’s Cups and kinder Bon Bons!). It’s a rare thing to feel genuinely cheery at the start of an ultra, I mean yes you can feel positive and ready but genuinely cheery is a rarity (for me at least) and yet I found as I was grinding up and down the course I couldn’t help but have a bit of a spring in my step. I put this down to the fact that I needed to remain relatively upbeat for if/when EmLa had a bit of meltdown but I was perhaps also just happy to be back running after a Christmas of rest.
With very few people in sight EmLa and I had the course to ourselves and we proceeded at what I considered a sensible pace of just under 5 mph, this meant that we rolled into the checkpoint in pretty good time. I did my customary sprint down the hill into the checkpoint and gave kisses to the GingerNinja and grabbed as much of the delicious cake as I could manage. EmLa who was just behind me looked in good shape and perhaps a little shocked both at the reasonable pace we had adopted and the realisation of what she had let herself in for. We were stopped a little longer than I anticipated but with cake in our bellies we set off again – and here I made my first mistake. I started to head down Amersham Road rather than Red Lion Street … thankfully my mistake was minor and we corrected after less than 100 metres but I noticed that my running buddy seemed to have had the wind knocked out of her sails. Hmmm.
We discussed the tough love scenario before the start of the race and I’d asked if she would prefer the arm round the shoulder or the kick up the arse. Given that she said ‘kick up the arse’ that is what I went with mostly but her confession that she was finding it hard and feeling a bit sick was no great surprise. I slowed the pace down a little bit but insisted that we press on, to her credit, she did just that and without moaning about it.
This section was a 10 mile section and would probably be the most draining on the legs – the ground was in a number of places hard going and despite all our efforts this was going to be a challenge. For much of the second section it was a fight between EmLa and her mental strength – we slowed to walking for a bit so we could chat – and eat pizza. It didn’t take much to remind her why she was here, how amazing she was and what she had waiting for, it didn’t take much to get her going again and after some coaxing I had a hero back on side. By the time we crossed the flooded road (by taking the little side road) I felt as though she would be okay once we were past the next checkpoint and I was right.
We bounded up to CP2 and said hello once again to @ahealthiermoo (who looks nothing like a cow) and used this as a toilet stop as there was a delightful village pub awaiting us. I took the opportunity to dislodge the giant shit I needed and EmLa dislodged a giant fart – delightful. Waiting for us once again was UltraBaby and this time we all had cuddles and high-fives but they wouldn’t be there for CP3.
However, getting past CP2 and back onto the trail was seemingly enough to give EmLa the boost she needed to get into the required headspace. We picked up the pace again to alleviate some of the loss we had incurred during the last section and I knew that we soon be on the canal path and once there we were home and dry – you don’t DNF on the canal path (unless you’re badly injured). As we came to the canal I stopped briefly and turned around and shouted back – ‘we’ve made it’ because we had.
The journey was now about halfway complete and it seemed appropriate that we could talk about targets for the day, catching the runners in front of us and staying ahead of the clock. EmLa was in a much revitalised mood and therefore I decided we would go live and we hit the ‘Periscope’ button for Twitter. As I’m sure you’re aware I very rarely appear on my own Twitter feed (or even in this blog until quite recently when I added the gallery feature), but it seemed like an appropriate time to introduce myself and my running partner and keep Twitter up-to-date with our rather handsome progress.
We broke down the canal path bit by bit and our progress was steady – each of the bridges we bounced over and now all that remained was to stay consistent. As I watched the clock for a little while I realised that it was very possible that we could come in under 10 hours if we pushed a little harder.
Checkpoint 3 though was our next stop and in the distance on our approach I could see lots of runners congregated – this was our chance to claw back a few places. We stopped and launched into the collection of food (the only, very welcome savoury food stop) and soon after I insisted that we left. However, there was time for one little bit of fun. On the bridge past CP3 there was a couple having their wedding photography taken and EmLa and I asked if we could join in.
The newlyweds eagerly agreed and we passed on our congratulations. 9 years and 2 children that poor girl had waited for her man to lead her down the aisle – but she made a very nice bride and a good sport for playing along.
For a while we pushed on with a walk-run strategy that was a bit haphazard but it had the benefit of letting EmLa and I chat some more and chew the fat on topics that covered most of the regular chat topics. We should probably have run out of things to say but that never really happened and because we weren’t in each others pockets for the race and respected each others space we could enjoy (at least from my perspective) each others company.
As we turned on the canal to the final stretch and CP4, 5 and the finish it became apparent even to EmLa that she was going to make it and you could sense the elation in the knowledge that friends were waiting for her only a few miles away (probably with coke, crisps and pizza) but this section of the canal was probably our slowest of the entire race – it felt heavy and leaden. My glutes were now on fire and the lack of vaseline in my arse crack was now ripping the skin from inside me – it was going to a painful last 12 miles.
However, we arrived to CP4 and I raced ahead so that I could advise Patrick, Sam and Lucy that she was nearly there and quell any fears that EmLa was anything other than doing brilliantly. It was a strange experience that the supporters who had come out for my partner greeted me so warmly, I was (and I should apologise to them) in my own focused world of trying to get to the finish. The nuisance here was that we lost a little bit of momentum in that we stayed too long at CP4 but the benefit was that the few minutes respite meant that we launched ourselves with new found energy along the route to CP5.
I organised our run-walk into something more sensible rather than the haphazard running it had been and I’d advised the cheering crew to get to the next CP quickly as I expected swift progress -and it was. Armed with head torches and a few Cadbury’s Roses we thundered along, catching up to a few more of the runners who thought they had long seen the last of us. We had the bit between our teeth now and I knew EmLa was giving it everything despite pain in her hips – the title of ‘ultrarunner’ was not going to be earned easily.
We powered into the final checkpoint, looking round for friendly faces and were greeted at the canal with more kisses and cuddles than one man can handle. With the finish in sight though I insisted we push on – I had 10 hours in sight and EmLa was giving it everything. For the final 5 miles or so she really did give everything she had, even when we came to the slopes for the bridges she pushed harder than she had for several hours. From a few metres ahead I ushered her on, words of stern encouragement – reminding her that her parents awaited her at the finish line. It was now a race against the clock to beat the 10 hours.
Bridge after bridge we ran under and I could feel the minutes seeping away from us. EmLa was now slowing, the last 12 miles had been grueling and despite her calls to send me on to the finish there was no way I was going to do anything other than finish this as we had started it – together. In her voice for the first time I heard tears – it was strange because she had been so incredibly strong throughout the day but the finish line in front of her incredibly proud parents was a thought, I suspect, she had kept at bay for 42 miles. On the flip side I was having a great time as I pressed home for a lovely finish to a delighted ‘crowd’. On the bridge above the finish I could see EmLa’s mum crying out to her and it was a sight to behold – it reminded me of my first finish when the GingaNinja ran over and walked the final few feet to the finish line.
One last push and ‘BOOM’ EmLa became an ULTRARUNNER. (just over 10hrs)
Country to Capital remains a well organised classic, as a year starter there are surely few better. You know its a good race when James Elson of Centurion Running rocks up (and wins) at your event. Its friendly, its fun, its hard and its a mental challenger. There is nothing I would change about this race its perfect as it is and my one gripe about the 2013 year – toilet A in the mens shitter (if you were there then you know what I mean) was not an issue. I’ll run Country to Capital again because of the reasons above, but also because it has brilliant marshals, because it has a nice medal and because this year the long sleeved shirt they gave away was really ace.
As for EmLa?
I owe her a giant thank you for putting up with me and letting me be part of her first ultra marathon, it was a true honour to be part of her journey and something that I will never, ever forget. She may not realise it but there is a very natural ultrarunner in EmLa and I’m hoping she has unleashed it.
Well done Emma – you did brilliantly and we all await details of your next challenge.
2015: The good, the bad and the really, really ugly #Runchat
My year of running: I remember January arriving and I’d been allowed a single solitary run in the previous 3 months. My physiotherapist seemed to believe that I needed a complete rest from running but by January as I was climbing the walls she told I should start running again – remembering that I had to take it easy.
I neglected to mention my race list for 2015 but that didn’t stop her asking. I explained that 2015 was less manic than my previous race years but still pretty hectic. I explained to her I’d build up sensibly and I would actually do some training – and I did.
During 2015 I put in more than 2,000 training and racing miles but 2015 was about more than covering a decent amount of distance – it was about completing new challenges and recovering from injury all while being new to parenthood.
My first few races were build ups to the SDW50 and ultimately the CCC but I returned to racing with the Vigo 10 which is perhaps my favourite non ultra race and it’s relatively local so when I was looking to return to racing this seemed a no-brainer. I was painfully slow as I trudged round the course and climbed the final ‘knee wobbler’ hill but I did complete it and I really enjoyed it – it was great to be back. I came away from the race thinking that I was cured of my injury woes and I could have kissed my physiotherapist I was so grateful.
Obviously it didn’t all go to plan – not by a long stretch, I followed Vigo up with the Brands Hatch half and this was a full on nightmare. My leg started to break down within about 7km and although I held on until 14km I knew I was going to have to hobble back to the finish line and this was very much what I did. It was a grim day and I was staring down the barrel of the gun again but my physiotherapist took a slightly more realistic approach and explained that setbacks do happen. Additional work revealed lots of physical problems that could do with correcting and we were able to identify that tarmac and hills are the main things that bring on ‘The Attack of the Glutes’. And with a prevention strategy and further work I progressed nicely through the year. Yes, its true that I was in agony for the SDW50 but in the run up to that both days of the Ranscombe Challenge had gone exceptionally well.
I also managed to go to my final Centurion Running event for a while and complete the Thames Path 100 therefore getting the monkey off my back regarding my failure at the Winter 100 when all my injuries did finally gang up on me and leave me in a bad way. The winning of a Centurion buckle has been something I’ve been looking for a while now and I’m glad its done because it will let me focus on other things in 2016.
Post TP100 I took a bit of time out and did the Medway 10km with my dad, Bewl 15, the Great London Swim with no training whatsoever and the Westminster Mile with UltraBaby (running an 8 minute mile with a baby strapped to my chest). I banged out a slow Marathon at the Kent Roadrunner again as its my local marathon and I always enjoy the medal if not the course and its always a nice affair as there are usually lots of runners I know there – my sprint finish against Traviss Wilcox was a delight. I also had the pleasure of meeting Jools and Kat – along with a proper introduction to Ed Catmur at the inaugral Twilight Ultra in Ilford, this was supposed to be the final warm up for what would be my first proper foreign race…
I suppose 2015 had always been about France and my double trip to race on the French trails, in December it would be the SainteLyon but first up was my dismal showing at the CCC. I wasn’t quite up to it, it was much too hot for me, it just went badly and I fell during the race and came away from it feeling like I did after the Brands Hatch Half Marathon. However, despite my complete deflation I decided to get straight back on the horse and upon returning to the United Kingdom entered the Saltmarsh 75. With a month to recover from my exploits in France I rested perhaps a bit too much but I rolled up to the Essex saltmarshes and gave it some welly. I’d been incredibly lucky to discover that ultra runner extraordinaire Ian Brazier would be competing in the same race and that provided a real boost as Ian is the the kind of hardcore runner who inspires with his effortless charm. So thank you Mister B!
The end of the year was working out much better than the start of it!
Into the home stretch of the year and I added the Ranscombe Challenge for the third time in a year with Jools, Kat and (I finally met) the awesome Emma (mk1) finally. A very happy marathon distance was covered and I’m looking forward to next years ultra in her company. There was also time to have to pull out of both the Tolkien and Hugin Challenges but replace those with the Thames Meander over in Kingston-upon-Thames where I felt very fortunate to meet Emma (mk2) and run into several old friends from my London Social Runners Meetup Group.
As November wore on I grew in confidence for the Virtual Runner UK Poppy Challenge which encouraged me to add more and more distance to my November total and there was the best finish in the universe to November when UltraBaby joined me for her fourth race of 2015 at the Greenwich Movember 10km and we bullied our way round the course to being the fastest buggy runners – even if I did nearly flip the buggy as we raced over the finish line.
However, it was December that brought the highlight of the year and the SainteLyon which was an awe inspiring race through the French hills from St Etienne and Lyon.
In review: If that’s (SainteLyon) the last race of the year then this was a properly awesome 9 months of running. I’m hoping that I might be able to go the entire year in 2016 without any injury breaks. It’s fair to say that my injuries have not cleared up completely but I am at least managing them and I’m now actively avoiding races that I know will set them off.
2015 was a great year of racing, true I didn’t race nearly as much as I did in the previous years but I think that was very much in response to my body telling me to pick the races I do more carefully and know my own limits.
My original aims for 2015?
- Get a Centurion buckle
- Run at one of the UTMB races
- Race with my daughter
- Cross the line of a hundred mile race with the GingaNinja and UltraBaby
- Race with my dad
- Successfully recover from injury
- Complete 5 ultra marathons
- Complete 1 marathon
- Enjoy running
- Engage with more of the running community
How did it finish up?
- Well I did earn my Centurion buckle (just the one, I’m no Bryan, Dan or Louise).
- I did race at the CCC but this ended up being my DNF of 2015.
- I raced four times with UltraBaby and had a great time at each event.
- I crossed the TP100 line with my family and it was an awesome feeling.
- I raced with my dad at the Medway 10km which was one of my favourite races of the year.
- Injury was a little more complex, I’m still in recovery and that may never change, however, I now have a management strategy and I take a more considered view of the races I’m doing.
- I completed 7 ultra marathons in 2015.
- I completed 3 marathons in 2015.
- For almost every second I was out on the road or the trail I had a great time and never once felt like I didn’t want to be running (well maybe during Brands Hatch, that was depressing).
- I had the honour to reconnect with lots of great runners I’ve previously met but also had the opportunity to meet and run with lots of new and exciting runners.
Below is my full race list for 2015
- Vigo 10
- Brands Hatch Half
- Ranscombe Challenge Day 1
- Ranscombe Challenge Day 2
- Virtual Runner March 10km
- Darent Valley 10k
- Thames Path 100
- Medway 10k
- Bewl 15
- Great London Swim
- Westminster Mile
- Kent Roadrunner Marathon
- Twilight Ultra
- Virtual Runner June 10k
- Ranscombe Challenge Day 1
- Saltmarsh Day 1
- Saltmarsh Day 2
- Poppy Challenge
- Thames Meander Marathon
- Greenwich Movember 10k
The future: Now the focus is on my plans for 2016 – I’m already booked in for Country to Capital (with EmLa) then I’m going to try and defer my place for TransGC to 2017 in favour of The Green Man Ultra over in Bristol before I step things up a gear with the second running of the Skye Ultra Trail in May.
I suppose though that next year is all about my entry to the Leeds – Liverpool Canal 130 (if I get a place), this will be my toughest challenge to date and will be the furthest I have ever run. If I don’t get a place though I will finally go and run The Ridgeway with the TRA. Sadly I won’t have room for my regular marathon next year either (Kent Roadrunner) and I’m a little sad about this but you can’t keep doing the same race over and over again.
For the end of the year I’ll be looking at the ultra distance for the Haria Extreme in Lanzarote and if time allows I’d love to go back to Lyon and rerun the SainteLyon but that might have to wait until 2017!
What about you? So how about everyone else’s 2015? Did it go well? Did you avoid injury? Did you achieve thousands of PBs or did you focus all your energies into Parkruns? What plans do you have for 2016? What races should I consider adding to my calendar?