Sunday 17 August 2014

Lakeland 50

The British Trail Championships at the Lakeland 50 loomed large on my schedule. With nearly 11,000ft of elevation spread over 50 miles this was to be my toughest ultra to date, and thats without any weather intervention to spice things up...


                                                               Start line for the 50

After the Highland Fling I thought it important to step up my hill training so as not to get caught short with the elevation in the Lake District. Amongst runs in the fells, longer and flatter tempo efforts and kicks over 'cardiac hill' into the next valley near my house I supplemented this training with some hill repeats on a brand new trail near the house. Getting upto 10 miles with 2500ft of ascent I felt this training would adequately prepare me for the race.

As well as training, this race brought new challenges where kit was concerned. After a couple of races where I'd lost both my big toenails from my Salomon Slab Ultras I thought it would be a worthwhile gamble to revert back to more minimal footwear in the New Balance MT110's. So a fresh pair in size 10 was purchased and on the day proved to be a great choice and I didn't suffer underfoot at all (or lose any toenails!). In addition to footwear the race rules dictated a huge amount of equipment was to be carried.  On reflection now it would have been a good idea to have road tested carrying the extra weight, but I survived and the Salomon Hydro 12 pack I purchased proved to be a revelation. The soft flasks were great all day, plenty of room for kit and a great fit. I'd go as far as to say I pretty much forgot it was there. The only sticking point was after the race I noticed both my collar bones were bleeding where the pack had rubbed me raw. A bit of KT tape would fix that next time though.

Packed and ready to go, I dragged my family out to Coniston where the school field there had been allocated as a campsite for the weekend. We were lucky grabbing one of the last pitches on the 'site'. We quickly went to the start area, initially for the start of the Lakeland 100 (I have to be honest and say I was a little jealous these guys and girls were setting off on such an epic journey). Immediately after it was time for the lakeland 1 for the kids. This was a wonderful addition to the weekend, giving the kids a chance to get involved. Both Ava and Cam did great running the 1 mile out and back with me and Em. They both managed to run the whole course without stopping to walk. Tent set up I went for my weigh in and kit check. Everything finalised I cooked up some chicken on our shitty little bucket BBQ which produces the heat equivalent of a warm fart. After nearly an hour we ate what turned out to be undercooked and slightly raw chicken! I feared this may come back and firmly bite me on the arse...

The following morning my tummy was ok but a little delicate. It was the rising heat that was potentially the biggest obstacle of the day. Jumping on the bus to Dalemain for the start I managed to bump into Mark Richardson (the guy I ran part of the Ennerdale 50k) and his friend Stuart Percival. I also met another guy on the bus called James Turner. So the four of us chatted on the long journey, which gave me opportunity to get into Mark's ribs for info on the course. When we arrived at Dalemain I had my now obligatory last minute 'download' in the toilets before gathering on the grass with the other guys and Emma with the kids.


                                                              Prepping kit at Dalemain


                                                Should've considered chaffing at this point!


                                                From left to right - James, Mark, Stuart, me


                    Stu, Mark and me - worth noting me and Stu are looking at the 100 next year


                                                                    Ready for the off

We were then corralled into a starting pen where we checked in our dibbers before lining up under the starting arch. It was good to see the likes of Marcus Scotney and Stuart Mills lining up alongside me at the start. On the shout of go we were away, the initial loop a four mile lap of the Dalemain estate. The terrain here entailed clumpy grass with a steady rise for maybe the first couple of miles before dropping back down to near where we started. Already the heat was noticeable at 11:30 in the middle of the day and was forecast to only get warmer. Equally worrying was the leaden feeling in my legs, maybe nerves or a result of over training on the run up to this race?? But maybe worse was a knot in my abdomen, signifying an upset tummy. This would prove to be the theme of the day for me. I tried to settle down and proceeded to run and chat away with James for the next 10k or so. We progressed through Pooley Bridge before we hit the start of the first significant climb. The incline here was enough, but with my training should have been runnable (douche grade??).  Instead I told James to crack on while I backed off and tried to sort my stomach issues out. Unfortunately as the heat rose and my inability to really eat continued I only felt weaker. As we rose up onto the moorland I just tried to maintain a steady rhythm and not lose too much time so early on. I must have ended up down to about 30th place or so by now so I wasn't keen on losing anymore ground before Howtown.

The Howtown aid station was a welcome sight, it was on a short downhill out and back section where I nearly followed a runner who'd already been into the aid and was continuing! Into the aid I completely dowsed my head in water and took to getting plenty of water in before continuing. In the theme of a day where it didn't yet feel like anything was going well, as I left the aid a wasp lodged itself under the shoulder strap of my pack and promptly stung the crap out of me. Feeling rather sorry for myself I soldiered on only feeling mildly better for the cooling at the aid.



I proceeded into the valley and significant climb of Fusedale Beck which rises all the way up to High Kop (the highest point of the course). I was keen to get this beast out of the way so I could maintain a reasonable pace. Sadly, not feeling on my game and the valley acting as a pressure cooker for the heat it was a slog from start to finish. I was conscious of preserving water here as it would be easy to drink both my soft bottles within the first mile. It was this climb where once again I was reminded that although I'm a competent climber as a runner, when the gradient gets to a steeper walking incline people were passing  me frequently. Something to work on!! Eventually the top did arrive and assisting a fellow runner called Andrew (one of the guys I would continue to see throughout the day) by pointing out his dropped Lucozade bottle, it's fair to say I might have saved his day.



The following descent went relatively well under the circumstances. Only one person passed but it seems the hip exercises I've been doing have paid off as I didn't feel any IT band pain (as I did at the Highland Fling) and this continued through the day.  Unfortunately, as I descended towards Hawesmere res the temperatures once again climbed with little to no breeze to offer respite. The trail skirting the edge of the water was technical and engaging which helped although I really started to feel off with the heat. Stumbling into the aid at Mardale Head I did something I can't ever recall doing in an ultra - I sat down. I'd topped up the water bottles and grabbed a couple of flat cokes and a water. Sitting under the gazebo out of the sun helped, but only momentarily as the coke hit my stomach it came back up to say hello. Heaving my guts up in such stunning surroundings was a strange dichotomy. I love this shit, but good Lord it was hard today! Having given up all my fluids and salts, I grabbed another coke and water combo before trudging off straight up the next incline. The intimidating twisting climb of Gatesgarth Path, reminiscent of some imposing climb to Mount Doom in Lord of the Rings. I resigned myself to walking every step of the ascent to sort my stomach out, although in reality I don't think I had much choice the way my body was responding to the heat. It was on this ascent that a guy called Jon paced past me fully armed with walking poles. It crossed my mind at this point I was being a snob where poles were concerned and certainly looking to the 100 miler they could have their place. Suffice to say I later caught and passed Jon when the terrain returned to more runnable conditions.



The descent off the top felt pretty good, my MT110's were holding up well and my feet weren't suffering at all. Technical and rocky, I allowed myself to 'fall' down the mountain side passing the clunky Hoka wearing runners who were struggling with the uneven footing. Feeling strong and vindicated I had a fairly good couple of miles before finally reaching Kentmere Village Hall which served as the third aid.

I entered the Hall and again grabbed a coke and sat down. A fellow runner sat down and declared he wasn't moving till he started to sweat again. It was then I was aware that I also had stopped sweating in the last few miles signifying dehydration. So plenty of fluids and a smoothy which seemed like a good idea, were all taken onboard. Unfortunately I wandered outside armed with the knowledge I was again going to chuck all into the bushes. A kindly member of the aid staff wandered out and got me some more fluids. She then refused to leave me while I consumed the liquids and set off feeling rather sorry for myself. As my stomach settled though I started to pick up a bit of a rhythm and made some running progress up the next incline. I passed a runner sat eating a banana, he later commented at the finish that after seeing me heave my guts up he'd thought I would have dropped. I think it was around this section somewhere I had a chat with myself and resorted to a plan B for the day. Racing was clearly out of the window with all the time lost at the aids and finishing did seem unlikely under the circumstances. However with just finishing as the goal, the self applied pressure was immediately lifted. This caused two affects, a realistic pace and eating strategy could be adopted, and secondly I really started to enjoy the moment.

                                             
                                                 Grabbing Cam in Ambleside - family time

So feeling a little better I moved on a little quicker with some real confidence that I could recover something from the day. As I dropped into Ambleside I was sure this would be the aid where I'd get to see Emma and the kids which is always a lift.  That in itself would have been enough to lift my spirits but the crowds in Ambleside came as a surprise. Shoppers, motorists and pub dwellers all erupted into applause as I passed, really helping me pick up the pace. The first site of the family was a great lift and I grabbed Cam who then ran down to the aid station entrance with me. It was nice to share my plight with Emma, a problem shared and all that. I think I ate a bit of a sandwich here and had some more coke. Unfortunately as before I couldn't sit in the aid all day so off I went with the comforting knowledge that I only had 16 miles or so to the finish. A quick pep talk from Emma telling me to get my fast legs going helped pick up the pace as I left. My mindset was slowly returning to racing, maybe not so much the other runners, but I was looking at hitting something semi-respectable as a time goal.

Out of the town and the next climb allowed me to take some more scalps. However over the climb I managed to tag along with a guy called Tom who had recce'd and nailed on the nav. After a painfully flat section that begged to be run at a decent click for the next 3 miles I ended up picking up a small group of runners on the next climb. After passing the group one of them tagged onto me, a guy called Nicholas. He was also good with navigation and had a Garmin GPS handheld to supplement my Suunto. And with a compulsory dibber it allayed my fears of missing it and DQ'ing.

With good company the next few miles ticked by quite nicely, especially after the dibber where hitting Chapel Style aid station it was pointed out that we only had about 10k to run! So another quick sit down, but this time with a cup of sweet tea I got up and set off. My mindset being that although I was racing those around me I was also looking after my body. What I found quite profound was how little pain I had in my legs at this point, but looking at the pace I'd been resigned to early on I'm not surprised. On reflection I can't remember whether the dibber or Chapel Style came first??? Something I'll check on later and edit this blog - devils in the details!

The next section was a climb up towards Tiberthwaite aid where the last climb and descent faced me. A section regarded as hell with some 'killer steps' on the way up. On the climb to the aid though the rain started, but after a day in blistering heat it was a welcome respite for a time. but in only a vest I needed to be careful to maintain my core temperature. At the aid the darkness also descended rapidly. I'd had aspirations of finishing in daylight, but with 3.5 miles to go this was a reflection of how the day had gone. I dug out my head lamp and batteries, sweet tea on the go and a handful of Doritos as finally my body wanted to eat something substantial. A lady in the aid took it upon herself to order everyone to put on their water proofs as she wouldn't allow us to leave without them on. So I grabbed my jacket, but the left the leggings off - I've run in -13 degrees in shorts before, a little rain on a summers evening wasn't about to force me to up the leg wear.

Out onto the surprisingly short stairs where I could get in my last section of racing for the day. The ascent went well, marching and running interspersed, but all with a purpose picking off more runners as I climbed. As I neared the top a young lad named Matt asked if he could tag along as his nav was poor. Ironically so is mine but the Suunto Ambit was doing its job in grand fashion. So as a pair we headed to the summit chasing headlights along the way. Someway to the top Matt pointed out we might sneak under 11 hours if we pushed it. Well this was motivation enough for me, 10 hours something sounds better than 11 hours something everyday of the week! So it was the most satisfactory section of the day was us racing the clock. The descent was interesting with technical terrain in the dark, but nothing was slowing me at this point, even Matt repeatedly sliding onto his arse.

So the push continued through a storm on a mountain!

What a day, from stifling temperatures to driving rain over the tops in the pitch black. I guess this is part of why I signed up to these sorts of races. It's about a journey, its an adventure and it's overcoming adversity. That's where the satisfaction will come from, knitting memories that will last me to the end of this wonderful life. I've learnt through running to truly appreciate the moment in life, to never take anything for granted. Every day on this planet is a gift - I've got everything to be happy about and cherish each and every second as it passes. If I can instil any lessons in my children, this will be it, to be present and appreciate what you have.

But journey aside I'd made a deal with myself to sub 11 this chuffing race and as we dropped into Coniston down a fast double track where we really got the legs spinning. The lights from the town piercing into the night gave the promise of warmth and my family awaiting my return to the campsite. As we turned the last corner to return to civilisation a spectator cheered us into the town. Questioned how long to the finish he replied "about 3 minutes". Matt's watch check gave us 2 to sub 11. Bugger - time for a last sprint... In usual fashion for my finishes I stretched out the legs, responding well with an influx of adrenaline. I shouted to Matt to run and told him to take the next left after the garage so he could get home. But as I left him the finish came into sight and Emma and the kids were once again a wonderful sight. As always the emotions flowed strong but I almost forgot to dib in. But this revealed a time of 10:59:12 - I'll take that under the circumstances. My next thoughts were Matt, and as he came round the corner and dibbed in I told him we'd done it. More proud of him than myself at that point. From there after a hug with the wife I made my way into the main hall for my medal and a solid meal.


                                                           Finish line with Ava and Cam


                                                          In the hall for tea and medals

Lessons learnt? I think first it's fair to say although I got 51st place in the British Championships I expected a better time, and certainly on an A day would have taken at least an hour off, probably more. So lessons aside I need to reflect on what I did achieve. On a day where a DNF was a serious prospect I found I could draw from a resource that kept me on my feet and moving forward. The cliche 'relentless forward progress' rings true here. It's nice to achieve the position, but I must be thankful for the journey and the personal battle throughout. I'm not naive to the fact that position feeds the ego, and come Ladybower 50 I will be looking for another top 5, hopefully a bit higher, but I must accept what hand I'm dealt on the day. It's the challenge that counts, not the victory. Each race is a battle, but the ongoing quest to improve is the war. I will endeavour to practice patience as my performance and experience improves in the following years.

Oh and I must eat better the day before - muppet.

Link below to video of the race

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_bkR7KnWds