Hardmoors 110 - When the wheel came off

Preamble -

It seems a little arrogant to expect everything to always go to plan. We can prepare, we can train, we can anticipate, but over a 100+ miles to expect all the pieces to perfectly fall into place is a little naive and I really should know better...

The Hardmoors 110 was an obvious race choice for me, with a reasonable locality and the lucrative UTMB points I seem to have been chasing forever now. After a long winter of training but no racing I certainly felt rested and even restless in some respects. I'd been plagued with 6 months’ worth of achilles tendonitis and sciatic issues, which fortunately I'd been able to get on top of with some last minute acupuncture sessions. The only downside is I'd maybe not quite nailed the training I was hoping for coming into this year’s big races. I was looking for some big mileage weeks and lots of vertical days in the hills. Luckily, despite my hampering injuries, I was able to get some quality sessions in on a local gem of a route called the Kinder Dozen. It's essentially 12 ascents from varying directions of the Kinder 'mastiff'. Over about 20 odd miles it has over 10,000ft of ascent on seriously rugged terrain meaning great opportunities for strength and endurance benefits. Despite this I would have felt better prepared combining this with some long outright 'running' days on faster terrain. Still I'd take what I'd got and approached the race with a positive mind-set ready to face the challenges ahead.

If I'm perfectly honest, I felt quite confident going into this race of achieving a good result. Looking at previous times I believed a podium or better could be a likely outcome if things went to plan. This may sound arrogant, but it's not meant to, rather it’s my personal ambition and drive to achieve for self-fulfilment. The caveat being this brings a self-imposed pressure that can be a burden if you allow it. Still I was determined to get out there and enjoy the route - not least because I hadn't reccied an inch of the course, so it would be a voyage of discovery throughout. One of the greatest joys I have in these long days out is seeing fantastic new places, indeed this is one of the reasons I started out in this sport some 4 years ago.

The Race -

The race is 110 miles in length with about 18,000ft of ascent gain. The route starts at Filey Brigg, running up the coast to Saltburn (53 miles), before heading inland over the magnificent North Yorks countryside taking in Roseberry Topping and the 3 Sisters before finishing in Helmsley. My plan was simple, go out at a manageable pace so I'd have plenty in the tank for the second half and through the night fell.

Hanging out with Dennis Potton (the peoples hero!)

After getting all of zero hours sleep, I got out of bed at just gone 6am keen to get kitted up and ready for the start. Emma and the kids soon followed and after porridge with chia seeds for brekky we headed out to Filey Brigg. Out on the Brigg (an impressive outcrop on the coastline) it was cool but with clear skies and a strong rising sun it promised to be fair weather through the day. This was a blessing considering the snow we'd just had in the days running up to the event. It was great to have the opportunity to bump into some Twitter friends who I hadn't met in person before - Kate, Joe, Dennis, Nigel and some others through the day. I've said it before but need to reiterate what a fantastic community our sport has.

The start with Ste Lord to my right

At a slightly late 8:20am and after Jon Steele's comedy briefing the race finally got underway. A guy called Paul Nelson flew off at the front with a young lad who was doing the relay. I was happy to settle in the next group running what felt an easy pace, with Ste Lord (won the Hardmoors 55 earlier this yr) and Jason Millward (a promising ultra runner being coached by Jayson Cavill). We chatted amiably about the day ahead and I remarked on the joys of racing on a coastline for the first time. The views over the cliffside down to the ocean were breathtaking. The sea rolled gently in to the beaches as the sun slowly warmed the frigid morning air. The coastal paths were basically rutted fields that were now dried and well trodden. Meaning it was a little awkward underfoot as every foot step meant your ankles were landing at a different angle. I can't say this bothered me at that stage though as my usual trail and fell runs are similarly non-uniform in their footing. However I was acutely aware that this may take its toll over the next 50 or so miles. About 10-15 minutes in I found myself naturally bridging the gap to Paul Nelson and the relay runner, but not quite catching, I was more than content to be patient in that respect. However this meant I'd moved ahead of Ste and Jason, which wasn't really my intention so early on. As the coastal path dropped into some woodland I found myself isolated for a short while. It was then I realised how problematic it may be to navigate for 110 miles without having reccied an inch of the course. The woodland trail meandered, with off shoots threatening to veer me off route at every corner and risk me getting lost at such an early juncture. I climbed the first steep steps of the day up onto a road in what I assumed to be Osgodby and hopefully the first aid station. Unfortunately it was nowhere to be seen, so after meandering up the road I stood and waited for those behind to catch up so I could ask directions. I didn’t let this rankle me as I was feeling pretty great and looking forward to the adventures ahead. What it did though was highlight to me the potential pitfalls of not learning a route prior to racing on it.

So it was onwards to Cayton Bay at about 8 miles. Here I ascended a steep grassy climb to a marshal who was checking people had not short-cutted along an easier and presumably shorter line. No sooner had I ‘summited’, the marshal directed me straight back down some steep steps that took me below the cliffsides. The land below was super slick in places which made me question my shoe choice of Salomon Sense Ultras, whereas I had some Salomon Soft Grounds on standby with my crew so I had options should it become an issue.

Happy running in the sunshine

I hit the Holbeck Hill aid station and saw that my wife, kids and parents were there waiting to cheer me on. This was a great lift and as I paused momentarily to grab a fresh soft bottle with Tailwind in, both Ste and Jason caught up and ran straight through. I followed in earnest and got back into the group. With Paul Nelson still running off unseen in the distance, it seemed a sound tactic to run along with these 2 in the chasing group. Although it’s fair to say the pace was still nice and easy, just ticking off the miles around 8min/miles I’d guess. My plan was falling nicely into place, I was nailing a fairly conservative start, which those that know me are well aware I’m pretty poor at that level of discipline.

Over the next few miles the scenery remained largely unchanged but I got the opportunity to have a nice chat with some of my fellow competitors. This is something I always try to get engage in, afterall running for around 20 hours in isolation can prove to be a pretty lonely experience. Whereas a bit of company can help the hours pass much quicker, and I’m a firm believer that sharing in the suffering can make it seem much easier and even a little trivial under the circumstances. As we went along our little group grew as some caught us from behind. There was maybe 6 or 7 of us now in this chasing group. Added to the group were Neil Ridsdale (I think the course record holder?), Kevin Perry and Jamie Lawler, amongst others. We happily pushed along together on the cliff tops moving into Scarborough. I had a great chat about ultras with a guy called Adam, although his full name eludes me, I hope he finished though!

Running through Scarborough itself was a fantastic experience, bringing back memories of my youth and my skateboarding days where I’d while away the days with friends leaping down stairs etc. The architecture around the old Spa and the comedy bling of the centre with the flashy amusements all served to add to the typical British seafront character. The seafront was also beneficial on the crew front with my family leap frogging along in the car to cheer as I passed. After a good 3 – 4 mile section of road it was nice to escape the town though and get back onto the cliff top paths. I found I was climbing easily and actually slowing to allow the group to catch up. I was clearly enjoying the company and in no particular rush to really start racing for some time.

After what seemed a long and fairly uneventful 22 miles, past Crookness and towards the aid at Ravenscar, I saw a familiar figure appear up ahead on the grassy trail. My wife, Emma had run out to meet me for a short distance to the next aid. As always this was a huge lift, and having the opportunity to share my ‘sport’ with my family is amazing. To run alongside Emma and chat about my experience so far was great to get myself into the zone and even a little pumped. We climbed up the road into Ravenscar and saw Paul (the leader) coming down from the aid, which in this instance was an out and back. This also got me fired up so I entered into the melee of the village hall with the intention of moving on quickly. I checked in with the marshals, grabbed another fresh Tailwind and immediately left the aid. I’m not one to waste time in aid stations, particularly so early in a race. Just an extra minute or two can add up over a race with 10 or more aids over its duration.

On leaving the aid I dropped back down the through village, giving me the opportunity to see how close some of the other runners were behind. I think this unintentionally upped my pace a bit being conscious of how close together the front runners still were. Neil Ridsdale latched onto the back of me and even went in front to push hard down a long descent. I dropped in behind him and enjoyed opening the legs after what felt like a long period of time running at a steady trot. As it levelled out we ran together for a while, but after a short climb I looked back and Neil had vanished. I don’t know whether he went for a comfort break or just dropped right off the pace, but it left me to press on by myself back in second. I then proceeded to get lost again, but a kindly walker directed me back onto the Cleveland Way route. I really enjoyed parts of this section, which constantly changed elevation on steep steps. I’d neglected to train specifically on steps, but found my hill training kept me in good stead. I seem to remember that Jason caught me along this section but we separated before the village of Robin Hoods Bay.

As I dropped into Robin Hoods Bay I bumped into Paul Burgum running the Hardmoors 160 (a sister race running at the same time). We said our hellos, I congratulated him on his gargantuan efforts and moved on. I soon bumped in Paul Nelson (still the leader) and we ran up the steep ascent through the town together. As we hit the aid I took a minute to refuel and Paul set off in front again.

Running through Robin Hoods Bay with Paul Nelson

I soon set off in pursuit and over the next couple of miles I was happy to shadow about 50 metres behind Paul along the rolling cliff top path. The effort felt manageable and I was confident that Paul was slowly running out of steam after his aggressive start. The Cleveland Way was packed with walkers along here so I found myself picking my around them and occasionally getting held up to pass on the narrow single track. Soon enough I caught Paul and overtook him to take the lead. I was pleased at about 30 odd miles in to be leading but felt it may be a bit early to push on so I kept the pace ‘easy breezy’. It was great to see the Abbey in Whitby and I really felt I was starting to eat into the route, particularly the seafront section – which in all honesty was wearing thin with me now. I ran across the car park to find the famous 199 steps down into the town, but under the advice of a member of the public I took the wrong route and descended a slope, which ran parallel to them. After about 200 metres downhill I realised my error and turned to begrudgingly climb back up the slope. I saw Paul some 100 metres up who’d followed me so I pointed him back up. I caught him back up and we got back onto the right route and ran down into the town together. Annoyingly at the bottom, I saw where the slope I’d originally descended joined the same road anyway. Still, I don’t like to think I’d have gained any advantage so pleased I’d rerouted the correct way. As we ran through the village Jason joined us and we formed a group of three leading the race. We ran past a couple of runners in the town, one of whom I only realised afterwards was John Kynaston. Shame as it would have been nice to say hi properly, he’s a great personality in the ultra-running community who I’ve been fortunate enough to meet at a couple of times at races.

Whitby Abbey

We ran through the Whalebone Arch in Whitby and along the long seafront towards Sandsend. It was on this stretch that Paul seemingly blew up. He said he was okay just suffering a bit so me and Jason pushed on.

And so it would be, me and Jason running together for some time after that. It was really nice to talk training, races and other topics. You can meet some lifelong friends during ultras after sharing such a personal adventure, and it's good to say Jason’s a top bloke who I expect to go well at UTMB this year. Incidentally Jason also ran the White Rose Ultra 100 last year the same as me but we didn't get to meet there. To his credit he’d done some great prep with a new coach and was running really strong.

After seeing Shelli Gordon on route to winning the 160 in a dominant fashion, we wished her well and ran on along an annoying soft sandy section. This reminded me why I’d never choose to run in the desert, such as the Marathon De Sables, not least because I think I’d be poor at multi-stage racing. We saw Ste Lord about 300 metres back as we crested the cliff tops having climbed back up.

Running into Sansend

The run through Sandsend (36 miles) was uneventful, although seeing my Dad cheering me on again was fantastic. As we hit up the aid station I grabbed a banana as I had the first signs of low energy. I’d been doing a Tailwind per hour but think I should maybe have upped the intake as I’d probably been sweating with the warm day.

Fuelling with a banana as I left Sandsend Aid

After a short detour round some eroded headland we descended into a steep rocky gulley towards Runswick Bay. I remembered from the race instructions that this was the place where runners may be held due to the tide so I was pleased to see the beach was fully exposed still allowing us to pass. Unfortunately the narrow gulley was backed up with people traffic meaning me and Jason had to climb down the rocks at the side and into the running water to access the beach. Once onto the beach it was pleasantly packed and for a few hundred metres a pleasure to run on with very low impact on the joints.

As we hit Runswick village, as usual we were faced with a steep incline. Jason took the opportunity to take a comfort break in a public loo so I told him I’d wait up by the aid station. Some steep switchbacks and I hit the aid where my family were waiting. I took a second to sit on the back of our Jeep and take on some fuel although I seemed to be struggling a little to eat. I waited all of about five minutes for Jason to arrive, when Jamie came running in behind looking pretty good. We took this as a kick up the butt as we might have must have eased off the pace some for him to catch us. We pushed on towards the last seafront aid, which galvanised my enthusiasm as after 41 miles I was tired of the cliff top paths and steps. I live and train in the hills and wanted to get back to my natural habitat.

Runswick Checkpoint and happy to see the Garratt family

Saltburn came round soon enough at 53 miles, and I happily ran all that section with Jason, confirming our team up would last a little longer. This aid proved to be a bit more frenetic, with me treating it as an opportunity to swap into Salomon Slab Ultra Soft Grounds ready for the expected muddy conditions. Due to this delay 3 other runners came into the aid while I got ready. Ste Lord, literally arrived and left immediately, yet due to the Runswick Bay arrangements, Jason was more than adamant he wanted to wait for me. The other two runners were Kevin and Jamie (from the earlier group). As we left we were told we could take a series of steps or a long steadier road. We elected for the steps, only to get to the top and see Kevin and Jamie appear from up the road way, which was clearly shorter! Oh well, we turned into a park and ran together for about half a mile. Someway into the park Kevin needed to stop and sort his shoes, so with Jamie waiting we dropped them and moved on back in joint second place.

The next section oddly ran through a housing estate before eventually going back offroad and into some horrendously muddy woodland. It was here that I started to admit to myself I was due a serious low patch. I didn’t even want to drink the Tailwind, which had worked so well during the White Rose where I’d secured first male. Food was out of the question as my stomach refused to take anything in. With my energy rapidly dipping I knew I was in trouble, yet even when I insisted Jason move on by himself he refused to break the ties saying he needed to move steady as well.

It might be pertinent to mention 4 weeks prior to this race I‘d done a 2 week exclusion diet, entirely removing carbs and glycogen from my diet. I was widely questioned regarding this decision so close to a race. However, I wrongly assumed that two weeks back on carbs ad sugars I’d be able to revert my body back to normal. If I’m honest with myself, I’d had a lot of stomach ache and strange movements. The reason for the diet was to highlight any health issues from carb intolerance, which of itself was successful as it relieved some problems I’ve had long term. So in that respect I see this as a huge step forward in the long game as regards my performance, clearly at the cost of my short term carb tolerance during this race by causing some gastric issues.

The view of the surrounding countryside from Roseberry Topping

We got onto some more open tracks that steadily climbed up through some felled woodland. It was along here that while Jason was clearly suffering he stopped at the side of the trail to eject the contents of his stomach. We repeated the scenario where I insisted on waiting while he got himself together. Yet all of a sudden he was done and we ran on. I could tell something was different, Jason was moving better and looked fresh. Sure enough very shortly he was just dropping me on the climbs as I only felt weaker with every step. As Jason disappeared into the horizon, I took a leaf out of his book, stepped to the side of the trail, where my stomach didn’t need much prompting to project its entire contents out into the dirt. Unfortuantely I didn’t quite get the same rejuvenation that Jason had experienced and only felt weaker. Every step was an effort, every turn or summit looked insurmountable and the remaining 50 something miles of this race seemed an impossible destination I’d never reach. Staring down the eyes of my first DNF filled me with dread. This is what 100 milers are about though, overcoming what might feel like preposterous odds. When finishing looks unattainable, it’s the simple act of reassessing our goals and just taking another step. It’s almost becoming a cliché in the ultra world, but the act of accepting our situation and taking that next step serves to bolster our resolve and conviction to reach the finish line. Life is about achieving goals, whatever they might be. My goal with this race may have been a little too position orientated, which on paper looked a likely outcome. The reality is what looks good on paper doesn’t always go to plan. This was one of those moments, and I had a similar epithany at the Lakeland 50 in 2014. Suddenly any time or positional goals went out the window and it becomes an act of survivial. The finish line was the only motivator now – and you could be sure unless they pulled me from the race or I died, I was going to get there... With the pressure of racing temporarily lifted I felt a little better straight away, certainly from a mental aspect the positivity gave me a real boost.

The magnificent Roseberry Topping

My good mood was aided by the sight of Roseberry Topping. A beautiful 'little' geographical feature that rises straight out of the ground in isolation. It was to be a short out and back section with a descent to its base, a quick run to the summit and back up to where I started, before then continuing on the Cleveland Way. Although a random detour, it made perfect sense in the aesthetic sense of ticking of this fantastic little peak. It was reminiscent of a mini-mountain that just begged to be climbed. I cruised down the hill excited to trot up to the summit to take in the views. Unfortunately my low energy meant I had to fast hike the switch back ascent rather than what I'd have preferred. Still it was a blessing I was still moving and even enjoying myself. On the ascent I initially saw Jason coming down and we passed pleasantries which was nice. Then Emma and Fin (a family friend) appeared. They finished the ascent with me, where I took a seat to try and put some calories in. I remarked that my race was seemingly over but I was determined to finish. My crew kept me positive and I moved on. As I left the summit in to retrace my steps I saw Kevin and Jamie reaching the top. I knew they wouldn't be too far behind now so I cracked on towards Kildale where I'd be picking up a pacer.

Ascending Roseberry and laughing at my total lack of energy

It was at the top of the climb back onto the Cleveland Way that Kevin and Jamie caught me. I was able to tag on the back and follow them for a mile or so, but the nausea refused to abate. As we descended off the tops down towards a forest they started to gap me but I just couldn't muster any real concern at that point. It was only when we started to climb again that I could see Jamie was dropping off the pace a little. Still as we ran deeper into the forest they both disappeared which made me a little concerned about navigation here as it could get tricky in places.

Just when I was starting to feel sorry for myself and I could shake off my ill mood - I saw Mark Richardson ahead. I couldn't have seen anything better at that moment to raise my spirits! Mark had come out to pace me, and although I expected to see him at Kildale, he's run a bit further out to meet me. I couldn't tell him soon enough what trouble I was in, but in true quality pacer fashion he allayed my fears and we cracked on. It really was like a second wind to be running with a friend and I was ready to get some decent miles under my belt.

Mark and me #selfies

We eventually ran down a tarmac road that took us into Kildale and eventually into the hall at 68 miles. I had a cup of tea and sat down while I sorted my kit out. Kevin and Jamie were both there too, and surprisingly Ste as well. I guess we all ride out our highs and lows at various points. As I was getting cold I put on my Salomon Slab light jacket here. I could see Mark was keen to get me moving again so I left my tea and we got back out on the road.

Leaving Kildale with Kevin and Jamie in pursuit

What followed was a steady climb on the road for about 2 or 3 miles. We were swapping places with Kevin and Jamie all the way up here, who were seemingly splitting up now having run a long way together. On the way up to the moors it was Jamie who eventually broke first and quickly disappeared behind us. But it was Kevin who came past looking strong as we hit the moorland. The steady climbing continued, which was all highly runnable, but I was really struggling in places to keep any sort of cadence up. I took the occasional sip of Tail Wind but even that was struggling to stay down.

Due to our diminished pace, I started to get really cold up here and I was keen to self clip at Blowarth crossing (75 miles) and start descending. Once we'd passed through Mark explained the next section to me as the steep rocky ascents over the Three Sisters, as they are lovingly known. I was excited for this part too, just to change up the muscle recruitment with some more fast hiking. Mark left me on here in the night, but the trail was fairly easy to follow along here. I felt painfully slow over the climbs - I need to do the Hardmoors 55 one day, as these 3 climbs along with Roseberry Topping are begging to be run. Still I was accepting to my situation and tried in vain to push the pace up the technical ascents.

I was on the third climb, the effort required after 80 odd miles without food was crushing. I was feeling supremely sorry for my plight. I was only getting colder with the bitter night air penetrating through to my bones. It was then I did something inextricable and against my better nature; I stopped. Not only that I stopped and first sat, then laid down on a rock. I couldn't then, and on reflection now, I don't quite know why I did it, other than to say it just felt the right thing to do. So there I was 80 miles in a race, laid down with my eyes closed wondering if I'd ever bother to get back up. At least I was on the route so someone would find me eventually....

Opening my eyes I was greeted with a view that literally took my breath away. I've seen the stars before, I've even seen the sky when there looks to be thousands of stars when light pollution is minimal. But what I saw here was something entirely different, what I could only describe as millions of stars, almost too many crammed into every millimetre of the panoramic night sky that lay before me. To say I felt fortunate to be alive and experiencing this moment would be like selling the moment your children are born as just an okay experience. I'm sure the pain and suffering to get to this place amplified my emotions, but that doesn't take away from the memory I'll hold from that moment. It added perspective to the race aspirations that had unfortunately slipped through my fingers. I sat up and scanned the horizon, I could see at least two head torches in pursuit. Happy with my five minutes of peace, I got up and decided I better get down to the small matter of tackling the last 30 miles.

I didn't hang around at Lord Stones, I was back in race mode, or rather damage limitation. So it was back to climbing up through the woods. I got to the Scarth Moor self clip (at a tv tower) but couldn't find the clip. Someone was rapidly gaining on me here so I was annoyed to be losing time. Eventually I found the clip in some deep grass a few metres from the clip point?? So clipped up and hooked it back on the fence where it was meant to be. I blasted on actually feeling a bit of energy, probably due to the adrenaline of being chased more than anything.

I hit the village of Osmotherley in pretty good shape and set off down the long hill to find the village hall. Unfortunately I couldn't locate it and was surprised there were no signs to signify its location. After running about a quarter of a mile all the way back up I checked the route description, only to realise the aid was another mile or so out of the village! To say I was destroyed yet again by this realisation is probably an understatement, but still got to keep things into perspective, I hadn't been caught yet.

As I got back on route and left the village I was starting to enjoy the cat and mouse of racing again. 100 milers really are just wars of attrition, trying to muster those last dregs of energy and stay efficient where you can. Getting lost yet again in a field of all places! I could see head torches catching along the trails. And as I dropped down through a wood on some nice smooth trail, Paul Nelson came barrelling past me. It actually took me by surprise, his recovery from a fast start was amazing, and I really didn't have an answer at that point. This put me down in 5th, but with two chasing lights about 200 metres back, I wasn't going to let anyone else past now. A steady climb up to Square Corner and the next aid, I took a minute to get some warm clothes on. The Salomon GTX Shell active jacket would be plenty to hold my core warm. I even donned some Salomon Bonatti WP pants to keep my legs cosy. The temperatures were dropping well into minus figures and I needed to look after myself. What followed was another long climb, which must have gone on for a couple of miles before a gentle descent that really got me running well again. I was keen to build a buffer to the two head torches behind and hold my placing.

The next drama came at 97 miles at High Paradise Farm where the third and last self clip was located. I ran the length of the farm, but yet again I couldn't find it! After about 10 minutes wasted I took the decision to leave and explain to the organisers I'd genuinely tried to find it. (It turned out some other runners had the same issue).

Charging 'hard' near the end

The final section was a matter of survival, moving 'fast' where I could and trying to sneak in the last bits of energy when my stomach allowed. The last big climb over Sutton Bank held it's own joy in the form of a sunrise. Always renewed by the sight of the sun, I used it to push the last few miles till I hit Dialstone Farm. Mark was again waiting for me here to bring me home. Despite the lift, he broke my spirits a little by informing me it was 9 miles to go and not the 8 I thought. You'd think a mile wouldn't matter after the distance I'd covered but every step was an effort now. That said, the final few miles rolled by much easier with Mark at my side. He chatted away amiably, kindly distracting me from the suffering.

More pacer Selfies as we turn the last bend in Helmsley

The highlight of this last section was an early morning view of Rievaulx Abbey surrounded by mist. And then a sign stating Helmsley and the finish were a meagre 2.25 miles away. Can't help but make reference points in running, and this exact distance is a lap of Morehall Reservoir where I live. Easy right? Well sort of, but it was enough to get me pumped to finish this thing.

My face on seeing the kids at the finish

A couple more little climbs and we were rolling down the grassy descent into Helmsley. I couldn't help but smile at reaching this place, I reflected on my journey and how much I'd 'enjoyed' it. As we ran up the gentle incline towards Helmsley Sports I saw Emma and the kids cheering us on. I stopped momentarily to thank Mark and fist pump to celebrate. It was into the finish to check in with a total time of 22:51 and 5th place.

  

Reflection

It's always great to plan and aspire to certain goals, the danger is when we fall short. Even now a week later I'm grateful for the experience and the learning to be had, but I'm still slightly rankled by how things unfolded. I'd gone into the race hoping for at least a podium and to finish in sub 21 hours. Maybe if things went really well to break 20 hours. From my time and the relative distance and elevation at White Rose Ultra, I was certainly capable of such a result, but alas things just didn't pan out like that for me. Still I've got to take from the experience of dragging myself round a tough course having experienced such lows.

On a positive note, I've got my UTMB points now so I'm good to enter that next year all being well. I've also had some great strengthening and conditioning in the run up to my A race at Lakeland 100. Any other year, my time would have been podium or better, so in retrospect I suppose I didn't perform too badly, just a missed opportunity. Maybe it'll be one I have to revisit to tick the box.

Most of all I'm just grateful to have the health to be able to run these events, we're all fortunate to be able to move in the mountains and enjoy these outdoor spaces.

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Mr Brightside - an essay on positivity and performance

Life is filled with challenges and struggles, which by design is the very thing that defines our experience. However, it's all too often the 'easy path' in life that people of this sedentary generation choose to pursue. We find ourselves living in a culture that thrives on ease of existence, inventions constantly being produced that serve to alleviate any effort that life might throw at us. And in doing so we appear to be nurturing a society with an aversion to any and all hardships. Unfortunately, asa result people are missing the joys discovered in overcoming the seemingly difficult. I question whether this joy is what draws people to running in general, and possibly to a greater degree, ultra running. Motivation can wane when the weather is inclement or energy levels are low due to a busy lifestyle – yet I seldom, if ever hear anyone after running say they regretted the act. Rather to the contrary, it fills us with a sense of purpose and achievement. It’s clearly at a primal level that our bodies thrive on this energetic movement, thus releasing endorphins that create what is ultimately an addictive and satisfying ‘past time’.

Ultra-runners often possess certain character traits like tenacity, dedication, even borderline obsession at times. It’s often this level of motivation that needs to be reined in to avoid injury or illness from over-training. In my experience, ultra running is a parallel of life itself. Suffering challenges and hardships ultimately bringing joy and satisfaction when overcome. And as in life, it’s accepting this truth that prevents us from the procrastination of trying to avoid pain. But these aren’t the only ingredients as such that leads to success at all levels. Success being a highly individual benchmark, be it competing for position in a race, beating a personal best or even completion of a new distance.

I once read an article that struck a chord with me regarding attitude. The author in question argued that performance in ultra-running (or any other walk of life) could be affected to a great degree by the level of positivity or accordingly negativity. Positivity is of course often a personal trait, be it affected by nature or nurture. But whatever a person’s outlook, if harnessed and controlled I believe the difference in performance can be astronomical. Take the self-fulfilling prophecy theory – if you think you will fail, more often than not you will, and likewise if you strongly believe in success then often that is the outcome.

'Whether you think you can, or you think you can't--you're right’ Henry Ford


So how can we influence this positivity to improve performance? Again, it’s a hugely personal thing which you’ll need to explore and experiment for yourself. For some it’s nailing their nutrition; that food item that just gives them the physical and mental boost to push on when effort levels are high. For others it might be a piece of equipment or clothing that fills them with that confidence; sliding on some new Salomon S-Lab Sense Ultras, the very same shoes that Kilian Jornet utilises to such great success. It might be the company you keep in a race, some work well in isolation, while others thrive in a more social environment – psychologically sharing the ‘misery’.

For me, positivity means staying happy and in the right frame of mind. Particularly during longer ultras, there will be low patches, and it’s how I manage these that often means the difference between relative success or failure. I’ve learnt to embrace the pain and suffering as part of the process, and where possible consider what’s still going well. It might be my legs hurt, but I’m still nailing my nutrition. It could be the environment I find myself in. There’s a reason I choose mountain ultras over road running in big city marathons, which is the inspiration I draw from experiencing those beautiful places surrounded by nature. That’s not to say I don’t find myself in dark places of the mind which I have to consciously dig myself out of. But it could be that this positivity is one of my better traits that keep me progressing in my chosen pastime. I’m a positive person, and I believe this often shines through, not just in racing but day to day. I try to steer clear of negative people, because it can be contagious, and I firmly believe life is too short for negativity.

 

In my lowest moments I‘ve taken to smiling in the physical sense. And it’s amazing how this physical act is inextricably linked to the psychological mechanism that makes us happy and positive. Equally seeing the joy of others can change your mind set and wellbeing for the better. I take no greater boost in races than seeing my family along the route. The excitement of my children sharing in my adventure is always a huge lift.

The point I’m trying to convey is about keeping perspective of what it is we’re doing and what we’re trying to achieve. We aren’t necessarily out to change the world, but we can make it a little bit of a better place to be. With lows come even greater highs if you have the stamina to endure. Enjoy your time on the trails, we are truly privileged to be out there running in nature. Running after all taps into our deepest primal instincts, which with it brings a satisfaction seldom matched elsewhere in our lives. The warmth of the sunshine on our skin, an incredible vista, the release of endorphins from physical effort, all these experiences continue to provide the joy and motivation to pursue what we love. Happiness it transpires isn't necessarily just manifested from a series of events in our lives, its also an ongoing state of mind we can influence with our self imposed positivity.

Remember, smiles are contagious, keep spreading the news.

Thanks for reading, keep enjoying the trails.

The need for Speed

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I emerge from the warmth of my house, a bright winter sun greeting me with open arms. The first few steps expose the tightness in my achilles, but it soon works loose as I descend out of our picturesque, rural hamlet onto the side of the reservoir. A cooling breeze funnels down the valley, hemmed in by high and steep hillsides. I reach the base of the dam and begin climbing towards the upper reservoir. It’s merely a warm up to the main event, todays vertical hill repetitions. A necessary evil when trying to replicate the profile of a mountain ultra. I prepare myself for the brutal gradient that beckons. As it kicks up through the woodland my stride shortens, my cadence remains fast. I concentrate on form, upright back, light on my toes. The mud is thick from weeks of incessant British rain. The path weaves up through the trees creating some short switchbacks allowing temporary respite from the impossibly steep incline. My legs begin to feel the strain, lactic acid builds first in my calves, then seeping up into my quadriceps. My chest heaves to suck in enough oxygen to sustain the pace, barely able to keep up the effort required to summit the hill. All the while my shoes grip into the mud which threatens to give and rob me of the power my body works so hard to generate. The soles, with shark like teeth bite deep with every step, eating up the countryside like an enraged predator. My feet locked into place so they are at one with the shoe, giving me the confidence to push ever upwards to my goal. A short, damp rocky section offers a change in the terrain that gives a much-enhanced return from the effort, allowing me to push harder and faster transmitting my power into the hard ground – right when my mind is telling me I need to ease off, I shrug off negative thoughts, my only focus on my defined destination. Finally I can see the top, I emerge from the vertical woodland environment into the sunshine. Fields of sheep surround me, a stunning vista below with a view across the entire valley floor, yet I don’t take the time to admire the view as my designated finishing stile awaits. The last 20 metres ease off in gradient, allowing me to up the pace into what now feels like a sprint to tag the end, mission completed. I double over momentarily trying to catch my breath. The lactic draining rapidly from my legs leaving only a satisfying burning sensation as I recover. I look down into the valley below, 400 feet of ascent gained in a short but harsh climb. I ease back down the hill, allowing my legs and body to gain momentum, before I start the barrelling, uncontrolled joy of a fast, well-earned descent. One repetition done, nine more to go…

This sort of session has become a staple of my workout repertoire since participating in mountain ultras. The confidence gained from this sort of training session is unparalleled, especially late in a race when fatigue seems all consuming, just knowing you can keep pushing upwards. This particular session was the first time I had tested the new Salomon Speed ‘in anger’. The terrain seemed best suited to push all aspects of the shoe; steep, wet and slick. All the types of conditions that this shoe is designed for.

The Salomon Speed is a continuation of sorts from the Salomon Fellcross range. Less an evolution though and more a revolution this time around. The theme of the shoe remains the same - to tackle the typical challenges presented by the muddy English countryside with our rather damp weather system. And in that respect it still champions the same relentless grip when the ground is soft and wet – utilising deep, arrow shaped lugs that cut into the ground to create a solid base to transfer power.  But, (and for me it’s a big ‘but’) this time around two key features have been vastly improved on;

1. 
   Grip on wet rock is always a trade off when shoes are heavily lugged. However the compound used in the Salomon Speed are completely new in order to address this issue. And I’m pleased to report excellent results in my tests. I’ve tried them on some of the notoriously - slippy when wet - flagged paths in the Peak District, specifically where they feature on any descents. On this terrain I’m yet to feel them lose grip even when charging downhill. This is a game changer for me because it’s in this area I feel I need the confidence from a shoe to allow me to push on.

2. The second area of improvement, and I accept it’s a personal preference this one, is in respect of fit. The Fellcross was a, deliberately narrow racing shoe with a toe box that allowed little room for wiggle. Again, I reiterate this isn’t a criticism of the old shoe, just an observation from someone who likes a little space to splay my toes. This time around, the upper is less stiff and roomier. I’d liken it to the Salomon S-Lab Sense Ultra range in this respect, which I feel is a similar fit and feel. I just feel it’s a little more forgiving now and I’d be happy to do ultra-distances in the Speed with no concern over comfort issues.
   
   
   
   

The Speed demonstrates how Salomon respond to user feedback and constantly work to improve their products for the end user. But equally the best features are retained as you’d expect. The much-lauded Endofit technology keeps the foot locked into the shoe. The seamless tongue is more substantial than the Sense range, presumably to help keep dirt out. And much in the same vein, the upper is manufactured to keep the foot protected from the sort of elements you’re likely to throw at the Speed. The drop of the shoe is a nice 4mm, which enhances proprioception for when technical terrain demands it.

Durability is, as always with the Salomon range at a premium. I've put a pair of Speeds through the mill throughout the winter months. With many hours spent ankle deep in the Peak Districts notoriously acidic peat, some level of erosion in the shoe materials is to be expected. Yet a quick spin in a cold wash cycle and they are still coming out looking brand new, with no signs of wear in the upper. Equally, although I try and avoid it where possible, I've probably got around 50 or so road miles accumulated in the Speeds, and the outsole is showing no obvious signs of wear. Which is fairly remarkable considering the new grippier and likely softer compound.

I like to think of my running shoes as a butcher would his tools, where they have a specialist knife for different tasks. In this guise, the Speed is a very sharp knife for a specific task where in my opinion it excels. If you are running in the fells then look no further than the Salomon Speeds, they will not let you down.

Salomon GTX Active Shell

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Activities in the hills and mountains require conditioning, respect and preparation. Part of this ongoing learning is constantly seeking to find solutions that meets all the demands these endeavours bring. But finding a single solution is often impossible when trying to balance optimum performance and safety.  My own preference is one of minimalism, an ideology oft championed in this era of mountain trail running. And while minimalism brings advantages to the table as we can undoubtedly move faster and lighter, but to what detriment?

Clearly the first and most important consideration is that of safety.  As passionate as we can be, this is an activity for fun and fulfilment after all – albeit one that carries an inherent and manageable risk. And this is the point of managing risks in a sensible and responsible way that keeps both ourselves and others from harms way.

This brings me to the crux of the matter.  In our constant pursuit of speed and performance what is sacrificed? I often despair when I see talk on social media of going light on mandatory kit for mountain ultras. Individuals either completely omitting items or in some cases going as light as humanely possible. I‘m not here to preach from a pedestal, merely to share the experience of my own short-comings and the subsequent learning.

The best way to demonstrate my own learning whilst wearing an insufficient jacket for the prevailing conditions, is to reminisce a specific point of learning;

I’ve been berated numerous times by a good friend and mountain expert in the past for my blasé attitude regarding certain safety equipment. And it was during a recce for the Lakeland 100 earlier this year I had my reality check. It was a typical Lake District day, a relentless sheet of rain cascading into the hillsides, feeding the streams and rivers, manifesting into raging torrents. Dark clouds clung to the mountain tops with a tenacious grip. Despite the incessant weather me and my two running companions, Mark and Stu plied ourselves from the warmth of the car into the bitter and windy conditions. It may have been deceiving in that it was in fact early May and I expected some level of heat in the atmosphere. Of course moving quickly in most conditions allows the body to keep warm and stave off hypothermia. Which is fine until things go south and movement is limited or even ceases entirely. Although I was only wearing shorts, t-shirt and a feather weight waterproof jacket, I’d packed some waterproof over trousers and a spare dry long sleeved top. Confidence, or indeed arrogance held me to believe this would be more than sufficient. After all it was only late spring in the Lakes - it’s not like we were high in the Alps…

Some twenty miles in to our recce, we were sodden through to the bone, Stu had rolled his ankle to add to his injury woes of an ongoing dodgy knee. Yet still I marvelled at the astonishingly beautiful route. Even in such inclement conditions, the Lakes can shine through with its majesty. I can’t say I was particularly suffering at this point. We had been moving relatively well and at low altitude, although wet I felt warm enough in my flyweight jacket I’d often relied upon with its meagre insulating properties. However as we began ascending Black Sail Pass my situation evolved for the worse. With Stu’s injury and the ever steepening ascent we slowed to a crawl. The wind was driving rain horizontally in my face, battering my body and sapping me of all my heat. My jacket was unable to fend off the howling icy wind which penetrated through to my already damp clothes underneath.  I was rapidly losing heat from my core and shivering uncontrollably. I resorted to an improvised fartlek session up the mountainside, sprinting between large rocks for shelter from the wind. I could almost laugh at the hilarity of my plight, yet the impending sense of danger that pervaded me prevented this outlet.

As we crested the top of the pass and descended into the next valley, I informed my running party of my plight. Luckily as we descended I could see the lights on at the Black Sail YHA which sits at the top of the Ennerdale Valley. This proved more than fortunate as we could get out of the weather and finally get warm and dry. It was the spare, dry long sleeve top and water proof trousers that saved me that day and the lesson was consolidated. But what was prevalent was how my waterproof jacket had fallen short of the mark in keeping me warm and dry in such conditions.

The jacket was fit for a purpose, and moving at a ‘race pace’ it has served me well in the past. Yet I’d found a situation which exposed its weakness, despite the advantages of being super light-weight with great breathability. It would be unfair to name the brand and model of the said jacket as under certain circumstances it has proved more than competent. And this brings me to my point, our ancillary items for our mountain sports need to be relevant to the specific activity or type of session we are engaging in.

My search for a waterproof jacket that would tick these boxes started and ended with the Salomon GTX Active Shell. Admittedly, a premium item but justified in its merits. Manufactured from GORETEX, the materials achieve impressive levels of breathability despite 100% waterproof properties. As regards weight the jacket comes in at 240 grams which throws it nicely in the very light, but not necessarily ‘fly-away’ category. This is fine because it still packs down into a small stuff sack (included) that is compact enough to fit in modern race vests. It also has glued seams meaning the waterproof properties are optimal and it’ll easily pass any kit check I’ve experienced.

Be under no illusions the GTX is made with the sole intention of keeping the runner warm and dry, but with the breathability of GORETEX ACTIVE to aid when things speed up. And this brings me full circle to specificity, there are certainly jackets that drop down into the (admittedly impressive) 150g range – but I don’t believe that’s the intention of the GTX. For me the GTX fits most situations where I need to have a contingency to keep warm and dry. If I want something lighter for shorter and warmer 
conditions, I can opt for other jackets such as the Salomon S-Lab Light (70g!) or the Salomon S-Lab Hybrid. But that’s not where I see the GTX fitting into the range. I’ve run in warm and humid but damp conditions and found it fine, although some underarm zips or venting to aid cooling might be nice. But again this flies in the face of the purpose of the jacket and that’s 100% waterproofing without compromise. As previously mentioned no single solution exists for every situation, BUT the GTX is the nearest I’ve yet experienced.

Functionality aside the GTX is a stylish item, one which I’d admit I often wear to keep dry on a casual trip out with family or friends. The fit is excellent, with a nice cut that promotes movement whilst running without looking loose in places. The sleeves are cut slightly long to allow the user to pull them over the hands a little when things get chilly. There's a small chest pocket that can be useful on for holding a couple of gels or even a pair of gloves. Another useful and well thought out feature is the ‘Skin fit’ hood which has an elasticated, vented mesh inside that stretches across your forehead. This effectively keeps the hood comfortably in place whilst running, even during high winds.

If you venture into the mountains I’d highly recommend the Salomon GTX. It’ll give you the confidence that you’re well protected should the weather ever take a turn for the worse. Be under no illusions though, this is a premium product, but one that'll reward your investment with comfort, style and performance unparalleled in my opinion.

White Rose 100 - Keeping the Focus

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My season closer was again to be at the White Rose Ultra in the Colne Valley. A beautiful hilly location providing some great views and fun trails. The driver this year was motivated by the insanity that is accumulating UTMB points. After the disappointment that my Lakeland 100 run wouldn't be providing any points, I was left with the daunting prospect of running three 100 milers next year (I was entered for the Lakeland again as my A race for 2016 so I'd need 2 more for enough points). However I'm determined to exercise some restraint as regards the number of 100 milers I race in any given year, due mainly to the ever prevalent danger of over training syndrome. The warning signs for me being a 12 week virus exacerbated by a crushed immune system. So having entered the White Rose 60 miler this year it seemed 'wise' to upgrade to the 100 mile option to bag those elusive 4 UTMB points and take some pressure off of next years schedule.

In approaching a second 100 miler of the year I felt much less pressure to perform. I wanted a good result to take into the long winter months, but I also knew I was tired from my experience at the Ladybower 50 post Lakeland. As it turned out the week rolling into the race my cold finally lifted and my energy levels improved. The 100 mile route starts at midnight on Halloween and commences with an extra 10 mile loop before pushing onto three larger thirty mile loops. I'm accustomed to running looped courses, although I'm aware they can be tough mentally. Overall there was to be around 14'000ft of ascent over the route, which suited me fine as late on in races I can pick up places on the climbs where others often start walking more.


The day leading up to the race I tried to stay rested, but with a poor sleep the night before and a failed attempt at a snooze in the afternoon it wasn't the best prep. Equally my parental responsibilities meant  I was out trick or treating with my two younglings. Then we packed the car and set out for the hour drive to Golcar near Huddersfield. My wife dropped me at the race HQ at about 10pm, wished me well then took the kids home for some much needed sleep. I found myself sat in a chilly room full of anxious runners waiting about for the start of the race. I took the time to get some food in and some caffeine and chat to some of the other runners. With about an hour to spare my friend Chris Baynham-Hughes turned up. A well known face in the ultra-running community with his affiliations to the UK Skyrunning series and an impressive win at the Marmot 12hour this year. I caught up with Chris having not seen him since August when we'd met up for some adventures in Chamonix.


With about 10 minutes to spare we all filtered outside to the start line. I'd started to get quite chilly during the waiting time so had donned my Salomon GTX Active Shell to stave off the cold. I knew I would get quite warm when we started though so I stripped back the layers to just an S-Lab tee and an S-Lab Light Jacket. The weather was cool and foggy which held some moisture in the air. I mentioned to Chris about moving to the front of the pack to start, but he remarked that we should set off near the back to keep our pace in check. This seemed a sound strategy and with my lack of discipline in such matters I was keen to play along, so we lined up pretty much at the back of about a 100 runners. However this ended up being short-lived as Chris merely charged through the entire field up the 200 or so metre cobbled path before we hit some road. I chuckled at Chris' apparent impatience and eagerness at the start of an ultra that was comparable to my own 'shortcomings'.


And so it was, me and Chris ran out in front as the road pulled slightly uphill. I took a glance over my shoulder and saw the field were already 20 or 30 metres back. A brief conversation and we agreed to ease back a little to keep the effort levels low. This 10 mile loop was unknown territory for us both so nav was a little tricky in places. There appeared to be 3 or 4 marshals with vehicles that were leapfrogging to various points to direct the entire field.  This was great in principle but the race was spreading out already so we found the marshals driving past us shouting directions from their cars. The comedy of the situation was amusing us, but equally frustrating at times as we had to stop and wait for other runners who could point us in the right direction. The highlights of this 10 mile loop were a section along the canal and a climb into a muddy, foggy field with no clue as to where we were supposed to get out - cue the other runners catching us again! Annoying in most other scenarios but I was just enjoying myself so much chatting to Chris about running and politics. As we neared the end of the loop we discussed aid station tactics and agreed to pretty much run straight through the HQ. So as we ran in, quick water refill and out. The HQ sits at the bottom of a steep cobbled road on an industrial estate and as we ascended back out for our first 30 mile loop we saw 3rd place coming the other way. So we pushed on and put some pace in up the next steep climb to try and create a cushion.


The race turned into an exciting game of cat and mouse. It was easy to pin point other runners as we were all on head torches, so as anyone appeared to try and bridge the gap to me and Chris we just pushed on until we apparently broke them. This worked well till the sight of head torches behind us became less and less and further away. Despite this early charge I felt we were conservative on most of the bigger climbs, easing back where necessary to respect the distance. The 'bog of doom' was our first encounter with this suitably muddy section and I wasn't keen on drenching my feet this early on like I did at Lakeland. We managed to skirt the worst of it with only my toes getting wet really. I spent the next 10 or so miles reminiscing of my 60 mile race from last year. There's some really nice sections of single track that climb and fall with some quality gradients.


Typically of me, 20 odd miles into the race I had a small lull in energy levels. Luckily the steady pace we were moving at wasn't causing a major issue so I just soldiered on glad of the company with Chris. What was becoming a concern however was a nerve pain running down through my left calf. Typical of any taper, on the last few days before the race my back had started hurting quite badly on the right side. My experience earlier in the year with this is that the pain had then manifested as sciatic pain down my right calf. Oddly at this point in the race my right side felt fine, yet the left calf was coming out in sympathy with an agonising nerve type pain. One of the upsides of a race of this length is that most problems can be overcome or merely drift away and forgotten due to the sheer amount of time elapsed by the end. I don't mention these issues in my blog to serve as an excuse, far from it. I think in recording my experiences, both the ups and downs, I can gain the necessary learning to improve. It's through self assessment and reflection that I can grow as a person and an athlete.


Later down the trail we got stuck into some fast and fun muddy sections of descent and some pleasant rocky climbs that served to distract from the intersecting road sections. A highlight of this course for me is the ascent up to Wessenden Head. A valley that steadily keeps climbing, the trail hugging the side of the hill in a meandering single track. I really felt I was getting into my groove here so held what felt a comfortable pace pushing towards the 'summit'. Looking back at that point we couldn't see anyone in sight which is where I think we took our foot off the gas a bit, which wasn't helped as I think Chris was hitting a bad patch here. The last little sting in the ascent of the valley and the gradient kicks again, it was here Chris told me to just run on as he was suffering. I was torn with what to do here, hang on to the great company and ride out his bad patch together or push on. I looked down into the valley below and could see a head torch maybe half a mile back which made my decision for me - I trotted up to the aid station at the top where I took my time filling my bottles up. I looked back to see if Chris had caught up, but in his absence I knew the decision was made to push the pace and get on with the race.


That was a pivotal moment in the race really. Me and Chris had discussed this very scenario prior and also during the race. It was inconceivable that we'd be able to run an entire 100 miles without suffering lows. And my learning from the Lakeland 100 was exactly that, in running in groups you only end up running to everyones weaknesses. Equally I'm sure if I'd have waited for Chris, some miles down the road I would have ended up slowing him down somewhere.


And so here I was in the lead in a 100 mile ultra, feeling comfortable on the whole and moving relatively well. As I pressed on across the next section of moorland I glanced back and saw a couple of torch lights pursuing but it was difficult to gauge the distance back to them. The crushing reality that I would need to keep putting in this effort for another 65 or so miles weighed heavily. But I was also getting a taste of what was required to win one of these events. And with that taste came the hunger. I'd already planned that as I hit the Headquarters again I would grab what I needed and run straight through. I didn't want to dangle the metaphorical carrot to any would be pursuers. As I arrived at HQ the marshals were busy signing people in for the impending 30 and 60 mile race starting over an hour later. I shouted my number to be registered but initially I just received blank looks as I don't think they were expecting anyone just yet. I got my tick, filled my water and pressed on.

Happy and cruising

The adrenaline boost from running up front kept me from throttling off too much when I felt tired. With the sun now fully up the daybreak had given me renewed energy and I powered up the hills, danced the descents and kept my cadence high on the flats. Things were nicely going to plan.


My nutrition plan for the race had been ambitious - a friend, Conrad Wild had recommended a product called Tailwind. A product that has almost comedically received huge hype on social media in the ultra running community. Essentially a powered drinks additive with carbs and electrolytes combined. Hardly revolutionary, yet numerous people were singing it's praises even over 100 mile races. A product of clever marketing or a genuinely great solution to running nutrition? Well although a huge gamble I was going to find out. I'd carried enough for the first 12 hours of running and my wife & kids/crew would be arriving later and be able to stock me up if necessary. It turned out that throughout the entire race other than a sausage roll and a banana, I fuelled entirely on Tailwind. I was pleasantly surprised by this revelation - I never felt sick or suffered any real sugar lows or cramps. I can think of at least two previous races that were hampered due to being unable to eat with stomach issues - hopefully I've found my solution!


As the second large loop progressed I expected to start seeing 30 and 60 milers come past, but was surprised to literally not see anyone for hours. The next 20 miles were pretty uneventful, my pain in my left calf had eased to be replaced by what I can only describe as a tear in my right lower calf (soleus). It's an old injury that sometimes flares up post ultras, not normally during. Running on the flat the pain was more than manageable, it was ascending where I had to lift on to my toes as stretching the calf was agonising. It didn't feel like a race-ending injury, more something to be managed and nursed accordingly. Despite this I felt I was moving at a good clip and keeping the field off my back.

Coming into the aid with cowbells in full effect

As the race continued I felt myself naturally slip into that transcendent state where the mind empties completely. It's meditative and you almost get the sense that you could run forever. It's so hard to explain this phenomena and one needs to experience it to fully understand the sensation. It's apparent that running solo on such a long journey is what can manifest this state. Moments of joy, with movement the only concern of the body - breathing, perspiring, light legs bounding across the land, fully self aware. It's this focus that if maintained allows us to run distances that many think inconceivable. I would argue that almost anyone could achieve the same with the right motivation and conditioning. I'm certainly not superhuman, but I am determined. When pain reaches a certain zenith, you have to be confident it can't get any worse. Then it's just a matter of the body and the nervous system adapting to that stimuli and continuing to move on. From here on out it was just a matter a keeping the focus...

Running up to Wessenden Head

As I ran along a sweeping ridge line looking down at the stunning countryside below the tranquility was broken by the beautiful sound of my children screaming encouragement. At first I contemplate whether it's an hallucination before Ava and Cam barrel into me at full speed. My greatest joy at that moment is to see the excitement in their faces when I inform them I'm currently leading. My wife Emma arrives and I take the time to walk along with them all for a minute to regale my overnight adventures. As we hit the top of the road leading down to the base of Wessenden I see our Jeep parked up so I take the time to sit down on the bumper and sort my feet out. I'm content to sit with my family, wanting to share my experience with them. Unfortunately I'd lost focus, I took too much time enjoying the company I'd clearly longed for over the last few hours. It was then female runner appeared on the horizon, moving well. I recognise her from the start as a female Raidlight athlete from Norway called Irene Kinnegim, a veteran of many ultras and Ironman events. I know she will be impressive over this distance and spare no time in making things easy for her.


I jumped up and charged down the hill towards Wessenden, adrenaline pushing me on in the moment. As we hit the climb and the adrenaline wore off a little I tried to return to an easy effort to push on up to Wessenden Head. Unfortunately I just didn't have the energy at that time, my legs suddenly feeling leaden from the 65 miles of pounding they'd received. And here came the crux of the race for me. I looked back at Irene and saw how well she was moving and knew then it wasn't if but when she would pass me. Although competitive, I love that our community in ultra running is so friendly so I took the time to pass pleasantries with Irene. I complimented her on her pace before committing the cardinal sin of asking how far back third place was. The answer was a comforting 'oh, long way back' but I'm sure it would have given her the incentive to move ahead knowing I was concerned about who was behind me rather than first. But I guess it's how these things play out sometimes. I was fairly happy to let my body come round before trying to mount a counter attack. So my main aim was to keep in touch with her and see if I could turn things around. First thing was to get some calories in with the Tailwind, which over the next 30 minutes or so turned my low around.


It was on this climb I was also passed by first place in the 30 miler, Matty Brennan. After a quick chat and an update that Chris (Baynham-Hughes) was in third and still moving well despite a problem with his back, Matty moved on ahead up the climb. It occurred to me then that in my last 100 miler at the Lakeland, Matty had come charging past then too running to an impressive 2nd in the 50 miler.


After a little sulk about losing the top spot I had a word with myself and soldiered on with a purpose. I got my head back in the right place and regained my focus. I even started truly enjoying myself again out in the hills doing what I love. As the end of the final lap approached I reflected on my day so far, fairly pleased with the current outcomes. Yet my ambitions weren't yet extinguished so I  fuelled up and headed straight back out into the hills. I think part of what I truly got right during this race was to avoid hanging around at the aid stations at all. I was literally grabbing water and moving on. The accumulative time I wasted in aid stations during the Lakeland 100 is quite astonishing, something I will remedy next year when I return.


The last 30 mile loop entailed some decent running which fills me with confidence as regards my improving endurance over this distance. At about 80 miles in I passed the first of several 100 milers who were a full lap behind. I took the time to chat to each one and both congratulate their efforts and will them to keep moving and finish the event. The thought of being out for a second night would have filled me with dread so fair play to any of them that managed to get round the full 100 miles. One of these guys commented I was first male as I passed. This wasn't something I'd even considered, I enjoy racing and like most I want to win. I suppose there are two categories in ultras and I guess I was on course to win one of them at least. A hollow victory in my mind but all the same it gave me a boost to hold on when things felt tough.


I had run the first 80 miles in the Salomon S-Lab Sense Ultra which had served me amazingly. They were grippy enough for the slick sections of trail, comfortable on the rocks and more than sufficient on the roads. That's not to say the sheer amount of pounding over the miles hadn't taken it's toll. I took the opportunity to change into some Salomon S-Lab X-Series. A road/trail hybrid shoe that just gave me a little extra cushioning late on when I needed it.


The end of the race started to pan out for me about 85 miles in as two guys running together caught me. I'd seen they were slowly closing me down over the last 10 miles or so, but the way they were moving led me to suspect they were probably 60 milers on their second lap. Sure enough when they caught me, just before the ridge line where I'd seen Emma and the kids earlier, they confirmed they were leading the 60 mile race. Both called John, one of them kindly commented on how well I was moving for the distance I'd covered. With this confidence boost I took the opportunity to run along with these guys and spent the next 3 or 4 miles tagging along, thankful for the conversation.


It was only as we climbed Wessenden for the final time the two Johns started to drop me. This wasn't all bad though as I got to enjoy the view of the sun dropping in a gorgeous blend of red and yellows, illuminating the sky in a vista worth framing. These moments make the pain and suffering seem worthwhile. To feel truly alive, exercising outdoors as a dichotomy to a society that continues to destroy the need for fulfilling movement in a generation of Apple worshipers. As a comical hypocrisy to that statement I took a minute to pull out my iPhone and take some pictures to capture the view...

Wessenden again as the sun sets

As the darkness descended, the last 10 miles were punctuated by a pair of headlamps pursuing me through the blackness. This incentive pushed me ever harder to the finish line. Rationally I knew it was unlikely to be another 100 miler, but equally in my tired state I couldn't be sure, neither did I want to get caught napping again. I was even still holding out hope I might catch Irene for an exciting race to the finish. As it turned out I wasn't to catch Irene, she ran a better race than me both pacing and clearly in her strength as a runner. With more experience and conditioning the better runner won. So with my 2nd place (1st male..) to hang on to I ran. And I felt I was running hard. The pair of lights haunting me every step of the way.





And as the final miles ticked off painfully slowly I could sense the finish. Digging deep I charged into the finish with no sight of the chasing lights anymore. I checked in to finish and my Suunto Ambit 3 had recorded a time of 18hours 58minutes for 1st male and 2nd overall.

At the finish before I've checked in

Prior to the race if I'd have been offered a sub20 and a podium I'd have been more than happy - so to fein any disappointment is disingenuous of me. My progress continues at a pleasing rate. Third place came in over an hour later so my fear was unfounded in the end, but that's not to say the thought didn't help me sneak under that sub19 time.


A few minutes after I finished, Matt and Richard Wilson came in for joint 3rd in the 60 mile race (the two chasing head lamps), and they were shortly followed by Debbie Martin-Consani who took 5th overall, 1st female and CR! Under normal circumstances this would have been business as usual for Debbie, but not for the fact she'd been hit by a car mid-race!! Hard as nails, that's all I have to say on the matter. Debbie had jokingly set the challenge before the race that I wasn't to let her catch me, so I must thank her for that extra incentive not to ease off late in the race.


A mention should also go out to Chris, who despite a crippling back problem he'd developed the week before held on for an impressive 5th place in the 100.

Quality nutrition post race

I also want to extend huge thanks and love to my amazing crew in Emma, the kids and the Garratt family. And also thanks to Salomon and Suunto for the ongoing support and having faith in me.

The crew sat waiting in Hank the Jeep