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 I’ve been through a fair few pairs of shoes and even more miles. There are probably only half a dozen pairs of running shoes that I haven’t gotten on with – most of them Salomon. On my own personal journey to foot comfort nirvana I’ve passed through Merrell, Vibram FiveFingers, Brooks, Pearl Izumi, Inov8, Adidas, Hoka, Asics and even a couple of pairs of Skora. I’ve worn them all and more in an effort to find the shoe that would serve me best.

Perhaps my search is now over as I’ve just discoverd the Altra Lone Peak 2.0

My interest in Altra has been relatively long standing, @borleyrose has been banging on about them since we first started chatting via Twitter but the combination of Hoka and Inov8 were serving me very well and I saw no reason to move away from a decent rotation of trail shoes. However, her enthusiasm for them did ensure that if I ever saw them in a shop and was in the market for new kicks then I’d try them on.

Then it happened, I was at the London Marathon Expo and I had visited the Hoka stand and they weren’t very helpful at all. When I asked if they had anything in a 9.5 that was a wider fit and suitable for the trail the man who a talking to me brought me out a pair of their new ‘Speedgoat’. Not only was he simply wanting to show off his new model but the speedboat is designed for the exceptionally narrow footed runner – he hadn’t listened and I was finally pissed off with Hoka. Luckily as I stepped away from the stand and looked left there in big bold letters were Altra.

Olympus, Lone Peak, Superior – they had them all.

‘Excuse me, do you have the Lone Peak in a 9.5’ I asked. The gentleman couldn’t have been nicer and he had me try the 9.5 but when he said I should consider the 10 I felt a little foolish.

‘Take them for a spin’ he urged – I did.

I bounded round the exhibition hall of Excel like nobody’s business with the Lone Peak feeling light and fresh on my feet. Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy went my feet as they pounded and spun around the various stands. I slowed, looked down at my feet and then bounded headlong back to the Altra stand. I told the chaps running the stand that they were possibly the most comfortable show I has ever tried, and I really wasn’t lying but at £110 they’re expensive and I’ve been trying to cut back on the amount of shoes I’m using at any one time.

‘I need to think about these, by the way do they come in any colors?’ I asked simply as I wasn’t keen on the rather muted black option. The reply was that ‘they come in yellow too’. But they didn’t have those in stock.

What was in my mind now was a shoe for the Thames Path 100, but that race was now only a week away from my trying the Altra on. I immediately left the exhibition centre, jumped on a train and opened up every bit of research I could find on the LP2.0 and viewed the excellent Ginger Runners glowing blog post about them – view it here. I then started looking for the yellow version of the shoe.

By the following morning I had (thanks to Twitter) sourced what I expected was the last pair of Altra Lone Peak 2.0 size 10 UK in yellow and the Ultra Runner Store (www.ultra-runner.com). They guys there were amazing and managed to get me the shoes by the Monday after the London Marathon – excellent service and I look forward to using them again.

But that’s how I came to the shoe, what about the shoe? Now for reviewing purposes I normally wear a pair for about fifteen runs and the total distance for that can be anywhere between say 100km and 200km but the Lone Peak have only done 3 runs but one of them was the awesome Thames Path 100 therefore I’ve put in around 180km on these and in the interest of avoiding bias I paid for them with my own money.

What Altra Say?

The Lone Peak 2.0™ was inspired by one of the most rocky, rugged mountains in the Wasatch Range and was designed to tackle the gnarly terrain of the Wasatch 100. The FootShape™ toe box allows your toes to relax and spread out naturally for more comfort and stability in uphill and downhill trail conditions. Sandwiched StoneGuard™ technology offers protection from rocks and other trail debris while the carbon rubber TrailClaw™ outsole combines unique uphill and downhill lug traction for every trail condition. Quick-dry, abrasion-resistant mesh on the upper allows you to plow through puddles, debris or whatever nature throws at you.

Technical Specs

Weight: 10.9 oz.

Cushioning: Moderate

Ideal Uses: Trail Running, Hiking, Fastpacking, Trail Racing

Designed To Improve: Running Form, Toe Splay, Stability, Traction, Comfort, Trail Protection

Platform: Zero Drop™ Platform, FootShape™ Toe Box

Stack Height: 26 mm

Midsole: Dual Layer EVA with A-Bound™ Top Layer

Outsole: Sticky Rubber TrailClaw™

Insole: 5 mm Contour Footbed

Upper: Quick-Dry Trail Mesh, Minimal Seams

Other Features: Sandwiched StoneGuard™ Rock Protection, Trail Rudder, GaiterTrap™ Technology

https://www.altrarunning.com/men/lone-peak-20

Altra are perfectly designed for that slightly wider footed runner and the design of being more foot shaped does indeed allow your foot room to breathe, room to land on impact, promote better form and give rider stability. I found that out of the box I instinctively knew that the Altra were going to be move with me and not against me.

Quality?

Upper: the upper claims to be a quick drying mesh and I was lucky enough to give them a thorough testing in both long wet grass and the rain of the TP100. The first thing you notice is that the upper stays dry and when it does finally get wet then it offers up a reasonably swift drying. However, if you put your foot through a river then the Lone Peak isn’t the quickest to drain and compared to say the Race Ultra 270 or even the Challenger ATR you’ll feel like you’re carrying the river away with you – at least for a few minutes. However, that’s a very minor negative and actually the upper feels light and not once did my feet feel like they were confined in a big fabric prison.

Durability and quality: this seems to be a bit of a bone of contention with some people suggesting that the LP2.0 start to disintegrate within 250km – well I’ll have hit 250km within half a dozen runs and to be honest they look pretty damn fine to me, the lugs look in good condition with almost no wear, the upper appears in one piece and strong and there is a whole feel to these shoes that Altra have listened to runners concerns. 

Cushioning: As a lover of most of Inov8’s range of footwear I know what it’s like to have your feet feel the ground below you. The Trailroc, the Roclite, the Race Ultra 290 and the truly awesome Race Ultra 270 know it’s important to have some contact with the ground, to know that you’re doing the right thing with the terrain. The Lone Peak are different, they claim to be of moderate cushioning, zero drop but with a 26mm stack height and a rock plate + lateral stone guard. What does this mean for you? Basically it means that you can feel the ground, you can connect with terrain but not so much that you’re going to take a battering in your feet over the distance. Over the TP100 I got to more than 70 miles before problems kicked in and that was less to do with the shoe and more to do with my own stupidity. 

It’s a weird sensation feeling the impact but not being affected by it, when you run in Hoka you don’t really feel the ground below you and when you run in Inov8 you feel pretty well connected to the ground – this is balance between the two. I’ve seen reviews describe the LP2.0 as a ‘limousine for your feet’ and this to me seems like a very good description.

Outsole?

The Lugs offer forward, back grooves intended for up and down the hills which are dense and deep enough for anything but thick claggy mud. The Lone Peak 2.0 aren’t the natural friend of mud or the UK ultra scene because we are always guaranteed mud somewhere on the route. These Altra were clearly built for dry, hard packed trail but the outsole on the LP2.0 goes some way to addressing the concerns of the European ultra marathoner that they are looking at the best ways to find a shoe to fit our conditions. Equally to note though with these are that the lugs are shallow enough to make going road to trail a possibility but deep enough that thy can force their way through the mud.

I did find that the outsole didn’t kick clear of mud very easily but this just required me to thrust my leg forward every few kilometres and flick it clean.

There’s something also about the beauty of the outsole, having already established that the outsole appears to be durable I’d like to give mention to the fact that the outsole is also tremendously beautiful, the foot shape as you lift your legs up gets shown to everyone behind you and that’s ankle talking point – you can also spot other Altra users a mile off. The big patches of yellow on my LP2.0 made for some exciting looking photographs (thanks Stuart March Photography for making them look awesome in my TP100 pictures).

Looks?

When I first put them on they looked more like clown shoes than any of my Hoka, they are wide, they are long and there does appear to be a huge amount of fabric encasing your foot. In the black and red I’m a little bit ‘meh’ about them – too safe but in the yellow they just look awesome and once they are on you don’t notice the clown shoe nature of them. These are a good looking pair of shoes and infact it was partly me admiring my new Altra in shop windows as I ran through Soho recently that was the cause of my newly broken finger (long story).

Weight?

The Ginger Runner and I disagree on this one, he says that the LP2.0 is too heavy, has too much fabric on the heel – could be lighter. I say that the nominal amount of additional weight gives you nothing but pleasure, my heel felt comforted over the 100 mile distance and my feet barely noticed that I had shoes on – I’ll admit they don’t feel like you’re wearing a pair of FiveFingers but then nothing does. The LP2.0 feel soft and light on your feet and I never felt fatigued in them. That said all of the latest generation of cushioned running footwear is so much lighter than it used to be and this is very much down to the manufacturers taking care with right balance of the right materials.

Sizing?

Half size up I’d suggest, however, I’d really suggesting going to a shop and trying them.

Price?

I paid, with postage, £103.50, which is a nominal saving on their RRP. What you can clearly say is that Altra (the whole range) is a but pricey but saying that it’s inline with its chief competitors like the Cascadia, the Mafate Speed, Challenger ATR and the various options from Inov8 and the like. I’ll be honest I don’t want to pay over £100 for every pair of running shoes I own but these were an investment in my feet and my running. I’d advise waiting until they come into a sale to buy Altra – but I fear you’d be waiting a long time.

Extras?

The gaiter trap is awesome with a small piece of protected Velcro to tie in your dirty girl gaiters is very much appreciated and actually made my gaiters much more effective in keeping crap away from my foot. The tail rudder I’m not so sure about but it served no harmful purpose and perhaps I’ll find a use for it when I hit some slightly more serious hills. The lateral stone guard and the rock plate give nice solid protection and yet are thin enough to still let you feel the ground – ultimately these are a finely crafted shoe.

Value for money?

£100? Are they value for money? Yes I believe so. Altra have a product with enough differentiation to make them standalone in a very crowded marketplace. They aren’t an alternative to Hoka or Inov8, they are a uniquely crafted piece of footwear that deserve to be considered as such.

Problems?

For some fitting may well be a problem as they are very wide fitting shoes but this is going to be a personal preference thing, this though leads me to the main problem with Altra and that is getting hold of them to try. It took me nearly 3 months to find a pair I could try on without visiting an online store and then it was the actual Altra representatives at the London Marathon. Come on Altra improve your supplier/retailer network.

Conclusions

Really good shoe with the caveat that they aren’t for everyone and if you can ‘try before you buy’. I’m an Altra convert and they have won a little place in my heart and will replace Hoka in my shoe rotation, and actually these bad boys might even make the grade for the CCC in August and replace the Inov8s I had earmarks for that race.

Good work Altra, looking forward to trying your other shoes.

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‘I’m wishing I’d taken a dump before we left’ I said
‘You’ve got all of natures own glorious toilet here mate’ came the reply from the ever practical Mick.

I’m not a bear I thought – I’m not shitting in the woods.

I shan’t be reviewing the Vigo Runners Valentine Trail this year as you can read last years report here but I will draw up a list of points as to why this is a race you all need to add to your running CV.

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1. The starting gun is a cannon
2. It’s a small local race that attracts runners from far and wide
3. The first trail section is, narrow, wet, muddy and filled with opportunity to cover yourself in crap
4. There are technical sections
5. The downhills are ‘fuck me’ fast
6. The uphills are knee grinders
7. This is the perfect race for your Inov8 Roclite
8. The medal was both a bottle opener and the shape of a cock
9. This is one of the friendliest, craziest races I’ve ever competed in
10. This will once again compete for my race of the year – it is that good!

Now before I go I’d like to draw attention that this year I made the mistake of going out onto the trail without having completed my need for a number 2! Yes it’s true I had already been twice that morning but clearly something was afoot and more appropriately, amiss. At mile 2 I clenched my buttocks and by mile 8 I knew I was in serious trouble. I think I might have stopped running and waddled home had it not been for the fact the quicker I got back the quicker I could get to a loo. Thankfully I pressed hard for my finish and even harder for the loo. I’d made it – but there was no doubt in my mind that my toilet need had affected both my running and my time. Hohum.

The lesson, fellow runners, make sure you’ve had your number 2 before you set off. Or don’t attend a race with my running buddy Mick, as every time we rock up to the same race I get a case of the galloping trots! Mick, have you been putting laxative in my tea? Bastard.

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I was sat alone in the large chamber of Lime Street Station when I decided I would actually review the WNWA96, I was tired and hungry and in need of being in my bed, I was done.

Before I start and before you read this there are a number of things I should say, the first I am going to get peoples names wrong, I am going to get some of the finer details wrong but this is an event like no other and so I’m going to tell it in the best way I can.

It was about 11.45am at Bluewater in Kent, my partner had wanted to return a few bit of a maternity wear to a shop because they hadn’t fitted and I had tagged along so that I could offer the opportunity to eat a dirty burrito. I figured what better way to carb load, I even had the mild salsa to avoid any serious complications in the ‘Paula Radcliffe’ department.

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I trundled home and started to get changed, everything seemed to be going well and laid my kit in front of me before applying lashings of wholesome Vaseline to almost the entire of my body. I clipped my Hoka to the side of my bag and headed off to the train station. As we sat outside the station saying goodbye it felt very different from all the other events I do, infact there was a sense of dread about this one and the tension in my face was visible. I kissed each one of my home team, The GingaNinja, UltraBaby, UltraHound and of course Thunderpad and waved them goodbye.

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I decided I would record the event in photographic terms, uploading them across various social media outlets, but the first would be Instagram and I would update on my progress in the event through blogging, Twitter and Facebook updates. I began snapping away on my rather uneventful journey to Sheffield and after a couple of trains, some short walks, a coach journey, tram ride and taxi hop plus a solid 8 hours in transit I arrived at Hillsborough.

I strolled down to the small car park where, in the glare of the lights, I could see the first of many friendly faces I would come across during my journey – Glen from Scoff Events. As I got down the stairs I said hello and he grabbed me a cup of coffee, what a guy. We chatted a little while and it all became clear that we had already met at the Great London Swim where he, myself and my dad had laughed and joked about life and stuff and now he was here making sure that we were all 100% fed and watered.

Feeling cheery therefore – although a little cold – I sat down in the car park and started to set myself up, compression sleeves on, buffs on compeed on my feet, Hoka on, water bottles filled, food compartmentalised, Suunto ready, iPod loaded. As I was doing this more and more people turned up including one of the event co-ordinators Cherie Brewster and they all set about the business of doing the things necessary to get us on our way. There was a nice air of relaxed panic about the place as people who clearly knew their places and hat to do worked hard to ensure that everything went off at the right time and in the right place and much of that is down to both Cherie and Steve Kelly whom we had the utmost faith that they would get it right on the day.

By the time 11.15 arrived the party was ready to hit full swing and I had the pleasure of meeting lots of lovely people. Gordon, on holiday in the Peak District had come over to support us. Owen, one of the walkers who had come on over from Houston – awesome. Nasher, gentleman, legend, poet and musician. Multiple Paul’s, a Debi, Brian, Des and of course Jimmy, the event mascot.

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As time was ticking on we were all called over to the memorial at Hillsborough and here would be a reading of the family names and Brian Nash would read a specially composed poem about his feelings on the tragedy. There was a sombre silence as the words echoed around the memorial. Brian read his poem with a beauty and sincerity that brought many to tears – including myself and as I saw my dad again I could see him ready to break down, it was here that I realised that no matter what else this was an event about community and the value of retaining your dignity and humanity.

Anyway, we returned to the general fits of giggles and laughs that would become the hallmark of the event, this was scousers on tour, yes it was nearly 1am and yes we hadn’t started yet and yes it was in memory of those who were lost in the tragedy, those who had survived and those who had supported everyone through the years but that didn’t mean we had to be downbeat – this was a celebration of the human spirit.

And so at 1am in the cold of Sheffield we set off. The organisers had prepared a couple of support cars with medics and supplies such as water, there was also a sweeper bus that was intended to keep us on our toes for the journey. Unfortunately there were only four copies of the maps to be distributed between most of the walkers, which on the whole was fine but meant for safety purposes it was better to have a photographic copy of your route. However, the support vehicles were never very far away and they helped to guide us – something I would be very grateful of at around 100km in.

The group quickly dispersed into several pockets – the first of which had me at the front of it. I was joined by two chaps, Ian and Brian – both of whom were survivors of the tragedy and talked a little about the feelings they had and why they were so determined to do this walk. Their stories were remarkable and their pace incredible, especially given their relative ages combined with the incredibly hilly start we had it was a stunningly fast pace we were pumping out. We reached the top of the first hill in great time and slowly but surely I could see that Ian was dropping back a little, I checked over my shoulder to ensure he was okay and with that seemed to be a wave of his hand Brian and I pressed on ahead – safe in the knowledge that there were another 30 odd walkers just behind us.

I kept about 50 metres ahead of Brian for a little while as the darkness was all consuming and I needed to focus on my own walk, but I had broken up the lack of light with my own entertainment which was belting out Elton John and Glee songs at the top of my voice, there is nothing like the sound of ‘Don’t go breaking my heart’ with hardly a soul in sight – something quite liberating. Anyway at about the 20km marker Brian finally caught me up as I was keen to take a photograph of the sign for ‘Penistone’ – how true that sometimes the ten year old inside never quite grows out of knob humour.

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It was probably now about 3am and together Brian and I set off at a fair old pace with the agreed intent of finishing it – the whole distance. For a little while I was feeling the effects of running through the night and at one point felt as though I was actually asleep standing up but then I sa the first signs of day break and we came through a little village and up onto another hill and we were greeted by the best sight of the night – Liz! Liz was the photographer who had been tracking our progress and ensuring we didn’t come unstuck for quite some miles and as she snapped at us I threw her a few of the UltraBoy moves and grabbed my own snapshot memento before moving onwards and sadly upwards!

The next few miles passed without incident and as passed by a place called Thunder Bridge Lane even I couldn’t help but feel buoyed by a renewed sense of vigour. This was of course all helped by the arrival of some chocolate croissants and the support vehicles giving us the clear thumbs up as they were sweeping some of the other walkers to the 24 mile point. Brian and I descended into Huddersfield in a great mood and in a great time – we were still under 6hrs and even with a diversion and getting a bit lost finding the Huddersfield Town stadium we made it inside 6hrs 20mins – not too shabby.

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Both Brian and I had spent most of the first 24miles thinking about Bacon sandwiches and thankfully upon arrival there was a tray full of the stuff provided by Glen and Scoff – and scoff it down I did along with about a litre of hit delicious coffee and even more delicious fresh orange juice. This was a significant break with about 90 minutes left for everyone to play catchup and I used this as an opportunity to change from my ridiculously uncomfortable thunder crackers to something more pleasant and also add another tub of Vaseline to my nether regions.

The guys at Huddersfield Town were amazing and the grounds people who helped direct us in and the chaps in the sports centre were very accommodating and I can’t thank them enough.

I also at this point decided to change shoes and mvdd from my Hoka Rapa Nui Tarmac into my classic and much travelled Hoka Stinson Evo. There was something warming about putting on an old friend who has completed thee ultra marathons with you. I used the rest of my time to chat with some of the other walkers who had by now warmed up and were feeling a little more lively, albeit with a few more blisters. I met many lovely people including Tony and Owen and Des (one of the drivers) and also the outstanding Eric who had a lovely ‘feet on the ground’ mentality to the whole thing and declared he was amazed he had managed 12 miles in his Adidas Samba! There was also the coordination of the news reporting and some filming took place but all in all it was well organised here and this helped settle nerves.

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It was then that we saw legend and all round hero Stevie Kelly come trundling round the corner and despite rumours that he was struggling he looked in remarkably good shape and when both Eric and I went over to join him there was nothing but good cheer as the first 24miles were done. There was a lot of truth in the phrase that ‘theres life in the old dog yet’ and he was living, breathing and hiking proof of it.

Anyway with everybody fed, watered and greased up it was time to go and a small group of us left Huddersfield and after some minor navigation challenges through the streets of the town both Brian and I once again headed the group and hit the hills with as much might as we could muster. It was a vertical climb, certainly as tough as anything that the SDW50 had thrown at me and probably a bit worse but my pace was strong and as we reached the top of the hill and crossed the motorway I was feeling in control of my own situation and knew I had the 96 in me. Then disaster started to strike

Bang.

I tripped and fell – my thigh straight into one of the motorway barriers – sharp shooting pains erupted down my right leg. I quickly thrust my hand down my running tights and checked for blood but it was okay, it was just going to hurt like nobodies business later.

We ploughed on at pace, Brian looked strong and for a while he certainly took the lead in keeping spirits high and maintaining the gusto with which we had started. What I knew was that I had to put this to the back of my mind and soldier on for a little while until the pain had subsided and before we reached the next checkpoint I was back in control and admiring the now beautiful scenery between Huddersfield and Oldham.

Our composure was fully gained and our tenacity growing as well as our confidence as we arrived at the next checkpoint – sadly there was no support vehicles and no supporters, curious. Suddenly the medical guys (Ian and Andy) rocked up and advised us that the bus had developed a problem and there would be no hand over of walkers. Within a minute or two my dad came thundering in and advised us that we should keep going and that some of the other walkers would do the next leg and more would join as soon as the bulk transporter was operational again.

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For the first time I felt a weight of expectation on my shoulders – that we, Brian and I would just continue, so with a map photographed and a straight run to Oldham ahead we picked up the pace, waved a cheery hello to the other walkers who had managed to reach this stage and then flew onwards into the highly exposed and therefore windy hills. Brian had made the unwise decision to strip himself of his bag and extra clothing at Huddersfield and therefore was feeling more exposed than he needed to. We stopped briefly while I layered us both up with additional clothing and buffs to keep things like necks and heads warm. All of this proved sufficient for us to progress in the cool morning sun and by what would be considered lunchtime things were looking pretty rosy, the bus had passed us and the walkers were back on the road.

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I, of course, being of a competitive nature on hearing that the walkers had been given a half hour head start proclaimed that ‘we’ll have them Brian’ and so from the second of this stages mini checkpoints we hit new speeds in our stride and launched ourselves towards the heart of Oldham. As we came across the hospital I saw the other walkers in the distance and called back to Brian ‘I can see them, lets take them!’ and so we began to run beyond them, giving them an enormous smile as we passed by. I was then in full stretch and I used the opportunity to widen my stride further and give me legs some release from the walking, this paid dividends as I hurtled into Oldham Athletics ground to be greeted by the grinning face of Desy the bus driver. Oldham was a bit of turning point for people I think, firstly there was a major stop – physiotherapist, hot food, rest, sleep for some and secondly it was a bit of a dawning for some that the road was coming to an end and that they needed to conserve their energy for supporting those that were going to continue walking or to save their energies for later on the route when it would be more important to have a visible presence.

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Both Cheri Brewster and Steve Kelly showed optimal skills in the division of labours – for my mind Steve (or Dad as I usually call him) organised the human element, people and Cheri dealt with the logistics, this provided, for those that wanted it, the respite needed for the upcoming assault on the final 50 miles. The other big plus was that Oldham Athletic were simply amazing – the show of support they offered was unbelievable with both space and time afforded to this posse of Liverpool fans all making their way home – there was even a cake baked and most were hugely grateful to the two physiotherapists who gave excellent support to aching muscles and relief from blisters. Some bothered with sleep on the terraces, others chatted, I took time to get to know some of the people and discussed many things including impending fatherhood, the art of breaking down time, the relative greatness of Shanks compared to Fergie and lots of other exciting topics. For me personally the break was too long because my long suffering muscles were unable to rest, if I had sat down I know that would have finished me off and so I was required to continue my standing throughout and by the time we were all ready for the off I was really ready.

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Before we departed though there was a little bit of time for interviews with local radio – including myself – which felt very strange, it seemed that my attempt on the entire distance had not gone unnoticed and I felt rather uncomfortable in the limelight – even if only briefly. However, I was keen to do my bit and so answered as honestly as I could the questions. The thing I found hardest was the question, ‘What would your uncle Mike think about this?’ The true answer was that I had no idea what he’d think, so I went we the only sensible answer which was that ‘he’d think we were all mad, then join us for the last half a mile’. I was also tired when I was interviewed and my emotions were sitting on the surface and I found this hard.

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Anyway … we were off again … lots of us were off … ace.

This time I set off with Brian again and this time joined by Ian (what a guy!) – the Eithad our destination. Once again I took control of the directions and hit the full pelt button, stopping only twice. The first stop was to buy two bottles of Lucozade Sport as I really needed isotonic fluids and the second was to roar with laughter as Chelsea were beaten by Sunderland. That second stop seemed to give us a helluva lift and the walkers as a whole seemed visibly stronger. I found myself making to a little jig and telling our lovely medics that I was made of fairy dust. We pressed on to the outer ring of the stadium and started to make our way round. I waved my companions goodbye as I set off into the distance and around the far side of the stadium, running to the checkpoints was now becoming obligatory.

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Waiting in the car park was the bus, the walkers and some sandwiches. Yum. I took the opportunity to refresh my water bottles and have a quick chat with my dad who was walking some of the next stage and then I kicked on knowing that time was very much of the essence. As I wandered out of Manchester City’s ground I could see what a behemoth it was and every bit as impressive as I had heard, what was going to be more impressive though was how the event was to turn on its head for me.

I was still pretty much with Brian but he was now starting to flag, the soaking he had taken in the first 24 miles looked like it as taking its toll and our latest comrade in arms was keen to push on but was unsure of the way. I had no choice but to mention to the medical team that I was a little concerned about Brian and they simply asked me to keep an eye on him and flag it if anything serious was going to happen – I suppose my main concern was hypothermia – despite my best efforts to get him warmed up, Brian looked cold and I recognised the face he was pulling because I had been pulling it the night before. However, Brian continued, as did the rest of us and then at 99.8km I was called over to the medical wagon.

‘You’re out of time’

The words echoed hard in my head and I looked at the map.

‘We can give you 10 minutes to get to the next checkpoint – it’s 1.9miles’

‘The others?’

‘If they can make it, if not they’ll need to be swept up’

I turned, handed the map to Brian, and then ran like I’ve never run before. After 100km of travelling along some challenging hills I was pumping out 6 minute miles and every time Andy and Ian would catch me in the support vehicle I’d hammer home another burst of speed. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t think straight all I knew was that I needed to keep moving. I was hurtling beyond passers by, who at this time of night on a Saturday would be considering their social engagement option rather than being worried about my thundering body. The chaps in the support vehicle pulled up and called me back as the GPS had gotten them lost, they told me to start breathing and even as they did they started looking for a direction and suddenly they said

‘down there’

Once more into the breach and with with heart bursting in my chest I flew up the hill towards Bury football ground – passing my waiting dad – who would have to swiftly follow as I hurled myself face first onto the bus. I started looking for a change of shoes – goodbye Hoka and into my Inov8 Trailroc. As I was sat on the floor of the bus there was the sound of cheers and applause and much back slapping but I hadn’t achieved anything yet and I’d lost my hiking buddy. I called out for a couple of bottles of water and my dad passed them to me along with my much needed paper towel to dry the sweat from my feet.

I was still in the event and still on for the 96, but I was five minutes behind the other walkers and so with a rod of lightning jammed between my arse cheeks I hit the road again – roars of well wishing greeting my triumphant exit. In the distance I could hear that a medic was being sent to join me to which I could only respond with, ‘if he can keep up’. I bolted down a one way street and then down to the main road, I was being and feeling awesome and in the distance I saw other support vehicle and so slowed down a little bit – engaging in a little bit of a jig as I met up with Paul and a group of walking legends. I’d made it.

We set off at a respectable pace and where soon joined by ultra running legend Earle Jackson, who only a few days previously had completed the 96 mile Anfield to Hillsborough run. He rocked up without a care in the universe and simply started walking – Earle has the benefit of being one of those guys that is simply amazing and his calm and dignity shone through. And so the group ambled through the roads between Bury and Bolton, the problem was that despite a reasonable pace the timings seemed to be against us, I spoke once again to the medics and was told we were once again on the cusp – I urged the other walkers to go a little faster but it seemed we already had our foot to the floor.

I started to run. The medical wagon rolled along side me. Earle rocked up too. In my head I heard the sound of Brian, my dad everyone else who had shared a cheery smile with me this day and it was willing me on as I banged out each step downhill and then every step up the hill to the waiting bus.

Here Earle and I were greeted by more whoops but this time it was urgent – the two walkers on the road were 30 minutes ahead of us. I started to strip down, goodbye warm clothing, goodbye Ultimate Directions PB vest – I was going to run it, but I needed a pacer and support and that turned up in the form of Earle, who stripped down and said ‘don’t worry I can run in my hiking boots’.

And off we went and considering our exhaustion and injury status we went pretty well. Bolton was ablaze with the echo of our thundering hooves and as we entered the road to Horwich I knew we were going to make it. Earle had out me back on time and in fact Earle had put the walk back on time. After about 25 minutes of exhausting running we finally caught up to Cheri and Tony and although we stopped and started to hike again we needed to move at a swifter pace than the others because of our lack of clothing, water or anything actually useful. We therefore bid the others goodbye and set off to reach the wonderful Reebok stadium with more than 20 minutes to spare before the next break.

At Bolton we were allowed to use the wonderful facilities of the hotel and apparently even grab a shower, I saw people brushing teeth and catching their breath, lying down and catching up on sleep. I managed a brief toilet stop and had a gigantic bacon sandwich along with enough coffee to sink a battleship but time was pressing.

I reloaded my running vest, put my warmer clothing back on and layered up to try and avoid bringing my race to an early conclusion in exactly the same way Brian had. I greeted as many people as I could, passing on my congratulations to them because there was so much awesomeness going on that it was hard to keep up. I met some of the new walkers who had joined at Bolton and think I was suitably weird but I’m not sure that mattered now.

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What I saw though now though was that some of the steel had been eroded from the walkers, everyone looked exhausted, but nobody looked ready to give in. As I stood on the bus packing my bits I saw the lovely Paul who had both of his feet on ice and advised me that he’d be back walking for the final few miles, I saw my Dad who was having his feet strapped up and offered me a thumbs up both as a confirmation he was fine and a need to get reassurance about my own health. Nobody was ready to get off this adventure yet.

I don’t remember much about the journey to Wigan other than I may have answered the question, ‘how do you feel?’ with the one word response ‘shit’. I do recall singing ‘row, row, row your boat’ once again and telling Sarah and Tara that I might cry unicorn tears and I may have been mistakenly pairing different people up – well adversity does bring people together 🙂

Wigan arrived and I came across a double yolker of a problem ‘Paula Radcliffe’ time and I had serious sweat rash in my arse crack – awesome. My dad found a McDonalds and I swiftly headed over to it as the walkers moved on, here I was able to have a moments comfort as well as jammed a very tightly packed square of soft toilet tissue between my are cheeks and use that as a buffer – genius. I left McDonalds, purchasing some orange juice as a thank you for the use of the facilities and then set off. The problem was that I’d been cut adrift from the other walkers and so needed to run the hill out of Wigan. Here I caught up with my dad and then several other walkers but the hills out of Wigan and onto the East Lancs Road were epic and I was really struggling, it was here that my Dad and I finally had a bit of a catchup, he helped me over the hills and more importantly down the hills which were actually the much more difficult thing. Of all the moments that I needed help this was the most important and while I am hugely grateful to Brian and Earle for their huge individual efforts in getting me to those hills, the irony is not lost on me that it was father who guided me over that final very difficult section.

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Well I say final…

We hit the East Lancs Road and I think all the walkers were in various states of dilapidation but were continuing to plod on. Again though we were pressed with the threat of being swept up, with more than 2hrs before we were due to reach the Showcase Cinema we were being ordered to what I had now dubbed ‘the fun bus’ (mainly because Des kept making me laugh). I spoke to my dad and asked if he was capable of at least running to the bus and he said that he was – probably about 2 miles away at this point.

In my head I was playing the William Tell overture and I felt like I was the Lone Ranger upon my horse and slowly but surely the sight of Dad and lad started to draw other people into a gentle jog. It started to feel like Rocky as we collected more and more of the walkers – we were now the sweeper vehicle, but instead of draining hope we were filling people with renewed energy. I could see the support vehicles and the supporters ahead and my feet took over – blasting their way through the next few hundred metres – awesome. I ran past the bus, knowing that I was likely to be pulled but my dad caught me up and told me to head off, it was here that I was also told that the support vehicles would not be able to stay with me.

‘That’s fine’ was my answer as I turned on my heel and headed out to cheers from the crowd. I ran for a little while and then made a call to my OH, I needed to hear her voice and tell me that it as all okay and for a few minutes we stood either end of a phone crying to each other. She thankfully knew me well enough to tell me that there were only a few miles to go and that I was awesome. She also reminded me that when I am telling the story of the legend of UltraBoy to UltraBaby this will be the story that it won’t believe. It was a long call, probably 10 minutes and in that time I could see the bus had stopped and so I started a gentle jog again and as I got there the bus left and a support vehicle remained but what was also there was the most amazing sight I have ever come across.

Sue.

Sue, her sister and her niece were all there, I’ve only ever met Sue but each of them set about me with hugs and cuddles like we were lifelong friends. I couldn’t appreciate you guys any more – I soooooo needed you at that point. My medical support was now back as well and I stopped to chat to him

‘Your dad said I’ve got to stay with you’

‘What if I run across the field? Seriously go and get some ice cream’

He just laughed but together we pushed on and before 10am, with about 40 minutes left before the official leaving time I had made it to the cinema. Photographs, hugs, love, there was a massive outpouring both from and to me. Some people though I think thought that was it for me and it really wasn’t and I started out for Goodison Park.

My feet was sore, so very sore, my hips were destroyed, my ankles a mess, my head annihilated and I couldn’t focus. I slipped behind the group, I could no longer keep up and then something amazing happened, some of the walkers – I’ll never know who – left a breadcrumb trail of human beings all telling me it wasn’t much further, telling me I could do it and when I came across the fourth or fifth I said ‘I need to catch up’

‘No you don’t’ she replied, ‘you’ll get there whatever speed you go’

I however, decided the speed was going to be ‘fast’ and so I ran into Goodison Park and collapsed onto the ground. The group was there a little while and I avoided the photographs as I felt as though I had hogged enough of the centre stage and I just wanted to concentrate on the last mile or so. Goodison brought with huge positive feeling and an enormous swelling of pride from the city. It was here, more than ever, that you could see the immense respect that Liverpool had for the 96 and equally, the survivors. At this point I chatted with a number of the hikers, most notably Ian and Andy the medics and then Brian Nash who had read the poem at the beginning of our epic journey. It had seemed the wrong time to speak to him just after the reading in Sheffield but I wanted while I had the opportunity at Goodison to tell him how moving and how human his words had been to me. He gazed down at me on the floor and there was a moment where I thought we might both burst into tears but thankfully the moment was punctured by the guys from 96 footballs who are preparing an exhibition in honour of the 96 (details can be found at the link below).

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Anyway our time at Goodison Park was short and we quickly moved on towards Anfield, the home of Liverpool fans the world over. The final leg was passing through Stanley Park, the barrier between the two great football giants and here I again slowed down but this time it was for the purpose of being interviewed, I’m not even sure I was making any sense but I did my best and then plodded on until I met up with a young lady called Terri-Anne (or Nish I think she may have called herself). Feeling rather positive that I was actually now going to make it I suggested that she could help me up the hill by having a little race and so after more than 160km I gave a 100metre sprint up the hill to lick Terri-Anne – poor girl! But I simply couldn’t let her win.

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Anfield for me came and went, it was all about the celebration of the lives of the 96, the effort of the walkers and the legacy for the survivors. For me it was over, I walked over to the memorial, said ‘Hello’ to Michael and then disappeared into the crowd – waiting until the ceremonies were over. There was a huge amount of congratulations, hundreds of people all wanting to say thank you but for me that wasn’t the point – the point was I was saying thank you on behalf of those who couldn’t.

It was an unforgettable experience and there was so much to take from it, lots of positives and so few negatives.

A few notes and an opportunity to say thank you.
Thanks should go to Cherie Brewster for her organisation prior to the event and during, her commitment to both the walkers and the event was unwavering and I am sure all the walkers will of been happy to have someone like this ensuring they were safe and secure.

Earle Jackson will have my eternal thanks for his pacing of me for two rather hilly and significant sections, his contribution to this walk and the campaign as a whole will long be remembered.

I have nothing but wonderfully kind words for the Arriva guys, Des and Ian (if I’ve got your names wrong I apologise). These two chaps were amazingly chipper for almost the entire time and you can’t put into words how hard it is to keep your concentration over the time when you aren’t constantly focused – they also worked tirelessly to ensure that there was some transport for the journey, well done guys.

The photographer, Liz, who I only saw for the first half a day really but she provided stunning cover for Brian and I as we fought through much of the first 24 miles. She offered a winning smile and a regular thumbs up.

Then there are the walkers, some of whom I feel deserve a special mention for having kept me on the road. Debi and Paul – awesome, Paul with his ice packed feet – awesome. Both of the Ians – awesome. Poor Tara and Sarah for having to put up with my stupid unicorn tears – awesome and then of course there was Brian – 100km of awesome walking, he was and is a true gentleman and legend and also offered the best fun of the night when his hearing aid started going bonkers on the bus and the guys couldn’t figure out what it was. But ultimately all of the walkers made a huge impression on me, more than I can ever truly express in words and even if I haven’t mentioned you by name I will carry you in my heart and my memory for the rest of my life

All of the support vehicles crews were 100% amazing – these guys who crawled alongside us where pushing their bodies to the limits as much as the rest of us but I’d like to pay special tribute to Ian and Andy. These two guys had the measure of me, they could see my trigger points and whenever I was flagging they came along and gave me a kick up the arse. If I could take only one thing away from this experience then I would take a wonderful pair of friendships with the two guys who made this all possible for me personally.

The football grounds deserve huge thanks – especially Oldham Athletic though who opened up their ground and provided space for physiotherapists and food. All the grounds though proved very much that football is about community.

Of course, there was also Scoff Events (do look them up) who provided the food and ongoing good cheer. Glen and his team were amazing and his bacon sandwiches are ace, and his chilli, and his burgers… and his coffee… in fact everything he did turned to deliciousness

And a final thank you – to Stephen Kelly. Well done dad, you done good.

On other bits
Generally the event was well run and the best thing that my dad and Cherie did was get in professionals to help them – with the greatest of respect to both of them they aren’t professional event co-ordinators and they both have a daily lives to lead, so the addition of people like Scoff, the football grounds, Arriva and Home2Office meant that they could focus on the important things like the route and how it would translate as a celebration of the people who have supported the campaigns and the people over the last 25 years.

The route itself was hard and 96 miles (actually closer to about 101 miles) of tarmac was hard going even for an experienced ultra runner like myself and while the hills were all manageable there were a lot of them – even at the end and the timings offered little respite which was manly because of Everton’s game against Manchester United on the Sunday. i believe, in hindsight, it would have been better to have reduced some of the rest times and started a little earlier and that way I am confident more would have completed the entire distance. However, this is very much in hindsight and the event was an enormous success and we should pay tribute to all those who played a part.

And Finally
As a tribute to the memory of those who died and those who have survived as well as those who have campaigned this was a success beyond all measure – it has touched hearts and minds all over the world. As a symbolic gesture I can see how the 96 miles we have completed is nothing compared to the 25 year journey in honour of the 96 that the campaigners have endured.

I write this now having walked the entire distance and having learnt so much about myself and the tragedy, I am humbled by the people who surrounded me last weekend, humbled by the survivors, campaigners and supporters and I am honoured to have walked a tiny part of this road with you and for you. Thank you.

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Given that this is a running blog (and often a racing blog) you’d think that a posting about the Tough15 in Greenwich would mainly be about my racing but let me set my stall out immediately and tell you that you would be incorrect. This is the story of one mans journey to get to a race because 2 minutes can be the difference between a medal and not a medal.

I live in deepest darkest Kent but the journey up to Greenwich is actually not too bad and so I had signed up to the Tough15 race around the park – three laps of what I thought would be ambling round having a few laughs. I awoke on Saturday morning at about 6am and drifted into the warmth of the shower, layered up my nether regions with vaseline and threw on my favourite Ronhill top and teamed it with my Inov8 245 and a pair of old Nike shorts. I’d also decided to run with my Salomon hydration belt to ensure that the expected days higher temperatures didn’t catch me out.

I left bang on time and jumped on my train, just a short hop from my house and this is where the problems started, while the train was on time it was delayed outside the station I needed to change at – only for 2 minutes but I only had 2 minutes to spare. Anxious I stood glaring out of the window – watching my next train in the distance bellowing out to the passengers that its door where closing. Inside my head I could hear the muffled scream of a man who was watching his race day dreams fade into obscurity.

Poo.

My train started moving again and we finally pulled into the station just in time for me to watch as my ride drifted slowly away.

Double Poo.

Hand on phone, I immediately tweeted my situation because thats what people do who need immediate feedback and support and also a plan and while there was a lot of sympathy for my plight there wasn’t a plan in sight and then I had an idea. I opened the National Rail app on my phone and started checking times for the various routes I could take and saw that I could drift into London and grab a return journey that should put me into Blackheath for about 9.05, then platform to registration line needed to be covered in less than 15 minutes – it was only about a mile or so, but it was uphill, it was just moments before a race and I really needed a toilet stop and not the kind you can have at the side of a building in Blackheath.

From here the trains ran to time but my anxiety was growing and the thought of not hitting the start line was annoying me as this would pretty much be my finally preparation before the SDW50 and although not perhaps the distance I was looking for it would give me the medal that helps with the mental side of things and also offers the race experience which I find invaluable before an ultra.

At 9.04 I hit the platform at Blackheath station, and when I say hit I mean hit. I pelted out of the station and straight up the hill across Blackheath, beyond the church and straight over towards the wrong entrance to Greenwich Park and so I thundered down the road as quickly as my fat thighs would carry me and hurtled up to the registration desk. I’d made it and with a few minutes to spare – though I was now a sweaty, dishevelled mess and the lady who handed me my number looked at me quizzically – perhaps wondering if I had already done a 15km that morning. I chose to ignore her quizzical stare and instead slapped onto my Inov8 the timing chip and the number to my chest – I was ready

And so to the race (at long last I hear you cry).

I’ve run a couple of The Fix Events and they have always been pretty well organised as this was no exception. The start line was clearly marked, the registration line was clear and the numerous toilets were located just far enough from the start line to ensure they didn’t intrude on the main waiting to run area. There was an excellent lady manning the PA and her enthusiasm amongst a surprisingly muted crowd was much appreciated and she kept going throughout the event.

I took my customary place at the back of the field and listened to the runners chatting, being on my own for the race today meant that I simply waited for the race to begin. Funnily I wasn’t really feeling the desire to run and even as the race started I saw no great desire to push off at a great pace. My lack of enthusiasm though may well of been of benefit as the start was pretty slow – partly due to the human traffic on the course and partly because I wasn’t yet feeling it. We all turned into the first corner and suddenly things started to open up a bit and I hit the afterburner to get myself some space and once found I drifted back down a gear.

As we started down the first major hill I saw a chap go past me and he was pushing a Mountain Buggy Swift – a lovely little buggy seemingly perfectly suited to running with your child – I chased him down and we had a lovely little chat about the practicality of using one of these and he gave it a glowing recommendation. It turned out he wasn’t running the race but was there as support to his partner and so I was glad I realised I wasn’t to follow him as he went off the course.

The course then proved just how tough it was as the route started bending in and out of the hills, the turns meant that pace was knocked right back as you span round them and the hills challenged your knees. The final hill on the route was a real bitch too and in my Inov8 on the tarmac meant I could feel it, however, pressing onwards was never a problem and I felt rather sprightly as I picked up some water at the 5km mark and the start of the second lap. The second lap was when the heat of the day started to get to me and I once again (after the Sidcup 10) realised I was wearing one layer too many, but it was too late now. The second lap also meant that we had lost about a lot of the runners who were doing the 5km race and had now finished, I was therefore able to push on with a bit more space and I was finally finding my stride by about kilometre 8. The tough final hill came back around at kilometre 9 and I pushed through it once again, rather enjoying the experience this time and then swiftly into the third lap. The third lap was much the same as the first 2 but again with less and less people to overtake or be overtaken by. At kilometre 11 I briefly stepped off the course to kick the football back to some young kids who had blasted the ball as far from the pitch as was possible to and then at kilometre 14 as I endured the final hill I asked a girl for a bit of a push and she obliged a few feet against my sweaty back – what a sport! I of course thanked her with all my might and then pushed on for a reasonably fast finish.

Crossing the line was a nice experience and I really enjoyed it – this wasn’t a race I was bothered about my performance in but in truth I was quite happy with the way the race panned out. I didn’t push myself too hard, I enjoyed the hills. There was a good medal for the race, the cost was reasonable (£21), the course was challenging and despite three laps was never boring. The atmosphere while not over the top was certainly pleasant and I would highly recommend the race if you were looking for a last minute warm up to the London Marathon or any of the other April marathons. The other great thing about this one was that it was a Saturday race – this means that my Sunday is free for a bit of a swim or cycle, perhaps both. If you decide to do this next year, enjoy it!

Happy running chaps

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3hrs sleep
Carried weighty 12kg OMM 25litre running bag
Wearing my Inov8 Trailroc 245
Strode purposefully out of my workplace
Kicked open power of Suunto Ambit 2 GPS
Started running
Hit full stride by the time left Regent’s Park
Jumped across traffic lights into Marylebone
Burnt down towards Edgware Road
Turn of pace to avoid old people
Sprinted out toward Lancaster Gate
Waved in an annoyed fashion at tourists in Kensington
Troubled a hill as darted towards Kensington High Street
Doffed Snowdonia Buff towards the Albert Hall
Pressed afterburner as crossed Hyde Park Corner
Lurched heavily towards Victoria
Stopped for traffic
Thundered along Victoria Street
Thanked commuter for getting the fuck out the way
Saw traffic gap, took it
Ran past Run and Become, scanned shoes in window
Looked to Suunto, 9.91km
Continued looking to Suunto, pace rising
Nearly hit man as stopping
Finished outside Scotland Yard
Virtual 10km complete in 51minutes
Hips sore
Back sore
Ordered Trailroc 235s
Acedemundo (see Fonzie / Happy Days)

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As regular readers will know I’m something of a Hoka One One convert, I started wearing them last year when I was looking to replace a couple of pairs of shoes and reduce the blistering problem I suffer with during ultra marathons. I love them but I can’t live in them, they aren’t the kind of runners you throw on when you need to put the bins out or when you need to run to the shop to get a pint of milk. If ever a shoe was designed for ‘proper’ running it is the Hoka.

So with that in mind I’d been considering Inov8 for some time. I’d already tried on a pair a few months back but hadn’t fallen in love with them and so had decided against it but when Snow and Rock had a bit of sale on Invo8 shoes and in particular the ones I was considering I was more inclined to take a punt.

What they say
Let’s talk about the shoe itself or rather what the manufacturer has to say

The Inov8 Men’s Trailroc 245 is great for everything from training to racing, packing the perfect combination of performance, cushioning and underfoot protection. The Meta-Shank™ midsole provides targeted metatarsal impact protection whilst the anatomic fit allows you toes to spread for a more natural feel. Reinforced in all the right places for extra support, the Trailroc™ has an innovative outsole that utilises three, sticky rubber compounds for the ideal combination of hardness, durability and grip, so that you can easily adapt; however the ground beneath you changes.

Anatomic fit
Synthetic, TPU upper
Mesh Lining
6mm Footbed
EVA injected midsole
3mm Differential
Meta-Shank™ midsole
TRI-C™ compound

It’s fair to say I’m often dubious about shoes when they sound too technical and the Trailroc with their anatomical fit, meta-shank midsole and TRI-C compound make my ears prick with caution but there is something to be said for a lot of this. The 6mm footbed is a blessing on trails as it really offers just that hint of support you want as you are running and yet manages to give enough connection with the surface you are running on for it to feel very real.

The TRI-C compound is also quite a nice little touch in that they’ve broken down the sole into three distinctive areas with differing degrees of flexibility and strength in the rubber so that your foot gets the best protection and movement for the ground it’s covering. This is where they really come into their own and actually running through wet or sticky trail simply ‘feels’. You know where you are because the rubber is working with you rather than simply absorbing the impact as with say the Hoka One One.

Upper
The mesh on the upper is lightweight and very breathable and even in wet conditions will bounce back pretty readily. Obviously they are in no way waterproof but they drain well and with the right socks, offer lasting protection against the elements. The concern with the upper is that it won’t last a million years but then if you will insist on running in a pair of slippers you’ve got to expect that they’ll wear a little easier than some of their hardcore cousins.

Fitting
I found the Trailroc came up a little small in the fitting and so rather than use my usual size 9 I went with the 9.5 – I did this for several reasons, the first is that I wanted to wear thicker socks with them (Drymax) and I wanted to give my feet a little more room than usual. The nice wide toe box of the Trailroc 245 is a very good fit for a runner with wider feet like myself. My toes never feel too locked in to the shoe but they always feel secure thanks to an excellent lacing system and loopholes in exactly the places that you want them.

Visual
Aesthetically the shoe is very nice, it’s not quite Salomon Lab Ultra nice but they aren’t far off and I always feel like a fashion icon of running when I find myself choosing my Trailroc to hit the ground in. The thing they have over the SLab Ultra are that in my case they fit properly.

Comfort
Once of the nice things about the Trailroc 245 though is that I find them very comfortable on the tarmac as well – I mean I’m not going to run a marathon in them but when I’m crossing London in an evening or hitting the road for my Virtual 10km races then these are ideal. They don’t suffer with some of the dull ache you get with other trail shoes that you might accidentally wear on tarmac – bonus.

Overall
So technically they appear a great shoe, you really can’t fault them but is my experience of them equally as good. I’ve now run about 80 miles in the shoes and feel that is enough to get a fair understanding of how I feel about them

Experience
As most people who read my blog will be aware I enjoy racing and I feel that every shoe I own should run at least one race. This happens to be quite difficult when you own dozens of pairs of running shoes but with the Inov8 I was keen to get them into a race as soon as possible and my wish was granted with the Valentines Challenge in Vigo.

The conditions were incredibly heavy going (as you can read in my earlier blog posting here) because of  all the rain and storms that the UK had suffered from over the months of December and January. I was wearing the Trailroc for only the second time and the first on trail and so I was filled with slight nerves about their performance. However, I need not have worried – the shoes chomped through most of the mud, skipped through puddles and waded happily through flooding. Yes, they were a bit lethargic through the top layer wet mud but then I think almost any shoe would have been – perhaps a super aggressive grip shoe would have fared better but then in the drier rockier sections the three rubber outsole worked its magic as I skipped over the difficult terrain with both enough protection and lubrication on my feet. Each soaking my feet took eventually dried out and the combination of shoe and sock was a magical one. Even as I was finishing the race covered in every kind of mud imaginable the shoes never let me down and even trudged to a reasonably fast finish.

Subsequent runs have been equally impressive but as with all barefoot or minimal shoes I find that when I run tired that my form slips and this then makes them less comfortable – but that is a problem with the runner and not so much with the shoe. Would I think of these for an ultra marathon such as SDW50 in a few weeks time? I suppose the honest is ‘possibly’. They will certainly be my back up shoe but they won’t yet make it to being my first port of call – the Hoka are simply too good for that. However, when I’m looking at kit for the Race to the Stones these will definitely be being considered because of the lower profile, lighter weight, ventilation and all round comfort.

Score
Great shoe 9/10 – dropping a point only because they couldn’t cure me of my Hoka addiction.

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This weekend saw a number of runners tackle the challenge of the Brighton Half marathon and even one of the runners I’ve had the pleasure to meet take on the Midnight Challenge. I was barred from the Midnight Challenge by my ever loving partner who reminded me that she wasn’t going to attend nor offer me any help with this one as she wanted a quiet weekend. The compromise was that I would be allowed to take part in the Valentines Run in Vigo, a very small village in Kent. Hosted by Vigo Rugby Club I had no doubt that we would get a professional race but had no idea that we would get such a well organised and delightful race experience. Let me explain how the day went…

At about 7.30am I woke up still singing ‘everything is awesome’ the very catchy little ditty housed near the start of the Lego Movie. My head was still a little bit leaden and my chest was still on fire from all the crappy gunk that I was trying to exhume but I hopped into the shower and simply pretended to my now also ManFlu ridden OH that it was ‘race on’.

I picked some sensible kit, long OMM flash leggings, my Ronhill VIzion LS top and my new Inov8 Trailroc, I’d coupled these with the Drymax socks I’d bought for C2C earlier in the year. The one addition I was glad I added was my Salomon race belt, I wasn’t sure how much water would be out on the course and this seemed like a sensible precaution out on the trail.

Vigo itself was about a 25 minute drive from us and so about 9.30 with the hounds packed in the car and the sun beating down above us, we headed out. Upon arrival we parked up on a slightly wet and muddy overspill car park but nothing that the car couldn’t handle although the local cadets were having to massage many a vehicle onto the mud.

I headed on into the race HQ or the bar as it’s normally known and spoke to a lovely lady who gave me my number. Given that I was a low number and had only registered a couple of weeks back I suspected that most of the entries would be taken on the day and in fact the race desk was very busy taking runners details.

I hung around the race start, chatted to some of the volunteers and some of the runners – introduced Indigo to the bustling nature of pre race, my baby springer spaniel was much in demand for cuddles and love. And then about 10.25 we all headed outside for the start.

We filed into a kind of pen just on the outside of the rugby field and as the starting approached the cannon fired off a round signalling the start – you wouldn’t have got that at the Brighton Half marathon!

The first section was to run around the sticky field of the rugby club and it was dense and hard going and I remember that by the time I got to the wooded section only a few hundred metres into the race my legs already felt heavy and my chest was on fire.

Regardless I crossed the log barred entry and started my run through the woods with their heavily pitted and watered tracks, with a desire to run reasonably steadily I lumbered from one side of the track to the next, trying not to get caught up in the overtaking through the puddles and focus instead on keeping my balance on the slippery ground.

The first few miles ran really quite well but I was going particularly fast and then the first of the major downhills came and I could feel my body urging me forward. However, the ground was rocky and uneven with large long clumps of thick wet mud to get through and my mind was telling me to be sensible. Thankfully body and heart won out and I was decided to give my Inov8 something to test themselves on and so we hurtled down the hill, bouncing between the rocks and I noted that despite being a reasonably minimalist shoe I felt very little trouble as went down, though I did feel suitable connected to the trail and therefore the Trailroc really where earning their spurs!

The course for the next couple of miles remained reasonably uphill, not in the ‘here’s a big hill, now climb it’ those I can deal with pretty easily, no, this was the kind of hill work that required a bit of tenacity and personality. I paced myself up most of it, going slowly but steadily and managing to take in some breathtaking Kent scenery.

At the half point there was a much needed water stop – located handily at the top of hill which was manned by a couple of lovely people handing out water and jelly babies. Having my own supply meant that I thought it best to leave the water for some of the runners behind me but used the opportunity to take on board my own fluid. I did take a jelly baby though and this yumminess pushed me up to the top of the next section and through onto the downhill where once again I pushed myself harder and chatted to a guy I’d met in the car park. It was a brief chat but in the few seconds we spoke he managed to curdle my blood with a tale of the last hill. Bloody hell as my only thought.

A shore while later I met Brendan who was struggling pretty badly and so we stayed together for the remainder of the race, I still felt pretty good, despite the ManFlu and knew that this chap needed a bit of push. I urged him to pull his finger out for the run up towards the hill and then we clambered slowly to the top. The hill as the photographs below show was a bit of a beast and required mental toughness to complete. I continued to support Brendan as best I could and had a bit of a joke or three with the girls at the top of the hill. I suggested Brendan catch his breath and then we headed out, the finish was in sight! well nearly. As we hit the track back to the rugby club we were ushered around the field once more. I had managed t claw back a place or two against people who had overtaken me earlier and it called back to Brendan that his goal was now not the finish line but overtaking me. However, I knew I probably had more in the tank than he did and so with a final push I crossed the line. Brendan came in a few seconds later looking tired but pleased as punch, he had given it his all. And if you read this, well done, you were brilliant.

I picked up my medal, my decent goody back (still wrapped foil blanket, mars bar, love hearts and a £5 Sweatshop voucher) and headed away with my loving Spaniels who had managed to get as filthy as their daddy.

This was a great race and highly recommended – especially if you like hills (nearly 1200ft of ascent and descent) and mud, lots of mud.

See you next year.

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