Running back to fitness

Its been a while since my last blog update, various reasons, one being I've been coming back from injury - mostly sucessfully too. Secondly, not many events to blog about till the last few weeks, not that I haven't been enjoying my running. I appreciate it more than ever. Thirdly, a change in my personal life in the last two months which had my emotions rollercoastering at first, but I think that I've evened out now and things are good. Never been quite so happy :¬)

The good - or bad - news is that I feel a blog coming on, not so much about one amazing adventure, but more of a summary of whats being making me tick and what is next.

After a run/walk program culminated in my leg still not feeling quite right following a run I visted the doctor several weeks back. His evaulation was almost "what is all the fuss about?" as he felt no swelling or bone damage. So I took him at his word and got out there again three months after the last long run - a day after which I could barely walk - and "went to town" with an 8m fartlek run with the club. It felt goo-ood I managed the distance, pace and I wasn't even that far behind club compatriots I'd measure my form against. Just some slight upper leg stiffness  the next day which faded quickly.

That was well over a month ago, getting on for two. I've been back into decent quality training since, anywhere between 3-5 runs per week and I'm starting to get close to a good 40 miles-per-week base - when weather permits. Some highs and lows then....

Return to distance - I built up over a few weeks with long runs initially breaking 10 with 12m steady paced in the wolds and then met up with a friend the next week to do a hard work 18 in the Wolds near Garrowby Hill.

Aching muscles - Between those two long runs I had to drop out of a club winter league handicap road race with a very sore hamstring. A reminder to be steady on the comeback.

Sunday Speed - Following a heady mix of day after an 18 mile Saturday run and a good dozen or so beers and spirits the night before I managed a Sunday afternoon course record on my little 4.3m XC loop. Better still as my previous best times were all set on bone dry summer trails, this day there was distinct muddying as winter approached.

Cross Country - Dretwon Woods, a trail-like course with woodland and proper hills. I was tired after pushing hard on the first ascent and descent, but held my pace and over 4 minutes faster than my previous best on this course three years ago (since shortened by about .2 mile). The next XC should have been Landale End in the North York Moors today, a really muddy, hilly beast of a trail course with stunning views from the tops and my favourite race in the XC calender. Alas, the dumping of snow forced cancellation.

The LDWA way - I hadn't expected to do the Wensleydale Wedge and if I had I thought I'd be just breaking myself back in with hopes to have a real blast at Rudolph's romp two weeks later. Loaded up with a good meal out the night before I had a great blast around, keeping to a good pace and even picking up late on to try and close out the 23.2m in 4 hours. Not quite to be with a final climb forcing a walk, but 4:02 and a 24 min improvement on last year made quite the happy bunny! Lovely course with a great early climb and descent from a high moor and then varied lower level trail running in the second half.

Snow problem - I don't let the snow get me down and have mostly run through it. Glad I did a good one at Wensleydale Wedge though as Rudolph's Romp has been postponed to next year and several other short races and training sessions have been cancelled too. On the date of Rudolph's Romp I eventually set off out at twilight, using the fluorescent glow of the snow to run through dark plantations and Welton dale headtorch-less for a tough 15 miler. RR would have been a killer this day!

Good reasons to make a regular return to the Regular Irregular - An enter on the day for me to this unusually named low-key event which tours the hills near Holmfirth. After the disappointment of RR cancellation this was a really nice day out. After the -5 to -10c common in the last two weeks it felt almost tropical, well above zero, sunny and only a slight cool breeze on tops. Three loops in different directions from start - of increasing difficulty but decreasing length. Although you needn't do all three or in that order it made sense to do it that way to me to rack up 23.6m and a fair whack of climb overall. Not as much snow there as here, but plenty of mud. Great thing was that with returning to the start after each loop, we got an indoor feed each time. After the first 11m+ I could tell it was a sunny enough day to dump some gear from my backpack and windjacket I was wearing. Especially as I was struggling to keep the pace of Mark who I was running with today He just had a waist pouch and seemingly rocket boots on. After the second loop (7m+) we dumped all kit but route desc as just 4m+ for last loop. A nice luxury to have and one I shouldn't get too used to.

Good, but these events have been quite hard work for the promising pace, don't think I'm up to speed/strength for next weeks 36m Tour of Helvellyn next week just yet. One for 2011.

Whatever happened to that Drunken Euphoria fella who used to blog?

I think he got injured...
Is he still?
Possibly, I heard he tried cycling and that injured him as well.
Unlucky..... anything else
Oh and I'm sure I heard he'd put on weight and now has Tesco home deliver him huge bags of tortilla chips which he gorges on washed down with sugary fizzy drinks.
Really!!
But I also heard somebody thought they saw him running at night, dressed in black, muttering and with a pronounced limp, probably drunk and running into things.
Oh I heard that too... and scrounging from bins?
Thats right.
Hope thats not true? shame.... he seemed alright really.
Maybe he's retired and found a good woman to settle down with?
That would be nice, but would that stop him running?
ehhhhh..... doubt it.
Lets hope he's getting back in training for another marvellous adventure.
Yeh.... Maybe the Coast to Coast and do you think he'd do the Lakeland 100 again?
Oh yes, and I'd bet he'd get round a lot faster next time too.
I'll be there, I'd better get training so I can beat him!

C2C - planning so far

I've mentioned it somewhere on here, possibly numerous times, but I plan to run the Coast to Coast next year. Following the challenging 190m Wainwright route of course - following from reading several excellent accounts in blog-land and hearing from former completors. The planning is underway and there's quite a lot to work out. First things first, my co-runner and I have commited to 5 days, so much so that we've started booking accomodation at appropriate intervals. We reckon this will be a challenging but not uncomfortable schedule, especially as the hilliest bits are at the start in the Lake Distict. Not to suggest that the Yorkshire Dales and, my oft bleak - more often stunning nemesis, the North York Moors are easy. So now we plan around the schedule.

Never being a fan of complication I'm toying with the idea of carrying the bare minimum of gear rather than using a sherpa company and only getting support on route in the form of places to eat and sleep. After doing the 180m section cycle of transpennine trail with a 10L pack. Which I had stuffed with bottle of energy drink, powdered energy drink I needed for second day, clean thin clothes for the evening and train journey back after second day, snack food to supplement food I'd buy on route, protective gear (waterproof, gloves, hat), navigation stuff and - the thankfully unused - spare innertube. Only thing I carried not in this bag was a small bumbag with puncture repair kit and phone and 2nd waterbottle on bike.

We've called the idea, "doing it caveman". Ok, thats a slight exaggeration, were not going to subsist off the land, catching rabbits, eating berries and grass. But, if we can confirm there are places on route to lunch substantially, then I plan to carry the minimum of food. Sure, this is 3 days longer than the TPT cycle, but I'll be using a 20L pack, and only plan on carrying extra's from that trip to the tune of a change of running gear, more food, more maps and numerous sachets of powdered energy drinks. Oh and I definately won't be needing an innertube!

Cardiovascular Purgatory

I felt pretty good to be out there completing that transpennine cycle. It was an interesting self-suffiency and lone endurance experiance. All part of the rich tapestry of what a well endurance-honed indivdual can do. However the achilles problem I mentioned has brought me back down to earth with a bump.

It took me a bout a week before I could manage any kind of endurance training after this. I tried a run midweek but the achilles was too sore and I bailed out after about 600metres. I passed my leisure time semi-constructively by upping the variety of my core, upper and lower body strength work. Things looked up when I managed a very flat soft trail run on the Saturday of about 2.2m. No massvie reaction from a hopefully recovering achilles or the stress fractured leg. I repeated this distance two days later and then four days later whithout major complaints. Then bizarrely after two days rest on the Friday the area of the stress fracture seemed to be feeling sore again?!

So I opted for a cycle today as the achilles was now the lesser of two evils and I fancied a longer and tougher cardio session, due to feeling - probably paranoically - I'd be starting to lose fitness with the limited distance running. So off, out I went, pretty nice day compared to some of late, for a nice trip into the wolds. Bouncing up and down hills between sea-level and a not-quite dizzying 550ft above - but on a bike at speed even a shallow climb feels harder work than the equivelent when running.

It was enjoyable and all going pretty well, but the achilles got more and more sore throughout. Towards 1hr45 out I was glad to be nearly back as it was now close to as bad as two weeks before. So a good hard session - which I then followed with some strength work in front of the Ryder Cup ("Go Europe!") - but at what cost?

That rules out cycling of any great distance and perhaps running also after the reaction from my tame return in the last week. Unfortunately my run of good training and eventing has made me impatient and I sorely miss the things I was able to do just two months ago. If this goes on I may have to do a deal with the devil and join a gym. I guess I've got to be patient and accept that I'm not the first person this has happened to, or by far the worst effected. But as the title suggests; I'm frustrated!

Transpennine Trial

Whilst out biking the Saturday before last - 11/09/2010 - one of the other running club cyclists mentioned he'd done the Transpennine Trail...... I didn't know it yet but this was the genesis of the idea. Later that Saturday I had a few drinks and te dexcision was made, my virtual entry form for this personal challenge posted. By Sunday whilst out for a leisurely bike a friend I put the idea out there. By doing this I'd effectively guarenteed I was going to do it. As I had a few days off next week, why not then?

I was quite excited about this, it would give me a chance to challenge myself, see the country and burn some adrenaline that I hadn't been able to of late due ton the leg problem. My original plan was to set off on my first day off, Thursday, from where the trail passes my door on the banks of the humber in Hessle - stay overnight at about halfway - then push on to Liverpool the next day and get the train back to Hull.

I know 'officially' the whole trail is Southport to Hornsea, about 35-40 miles further. But on this occasion I thought 215 miles may be a bit too far in two days, I only wanted to fork out for one overnight stay. Also, the trains from Liverpool to Hull are more regular than from Southport I'd guess. Lastly I suspected the Hornsea to Hull and through stretch may be too familiar to be interesting and as always I wanted to minimise travelling through built-up areas, associated traffic and pot-holed roads.

I guess that sounds like a lot of excuses but isn't 175 miles in two days enough? Most I'd done recently was two relatively easy cycles over the previous Saturday and Sunday adding up to under 50 miles. I also settled on Friday and Saturday as my challenge days as Thursdays weather forecast looked pretty windy and abysmal for a late summer day. I did have an added challenge over many attempting this sort of thing though. As Coast 2 Coasters and Transpenniner's will know, most people head West to East for assistance from the prevailing winds for these challenges. I was also doing this on my own and with unaided barring the overnight B&B rest stop.

It was great to have a challenge to sink my teeth into planning again. I booked my overnight accomodation in the Longdendale Valley are of the Peak District. I also booked a train back to Hull at 15:22 on Saturday - this turned out to have been ambitious. I even got a new front light for the bike - hoping not to need it - and a spare innertube - which I learned afterwards I couldn't have used! A learning process, but I did do plenty of things right.

The majestic Humber Bridge

After porridge and toast I dragged myself out of the house at about 9:30 on Friday. With just my 10L OMM Last Drop backpack, a small bumbag and two bottles of liquid, I was travelling pretty light, but hoped still to have adequate weather protection and food to last me. Anything more substantial I  hoped I could buy on-route. The first bit was a familiar 3m along the River Humber trail to the next village. Despite this familiarity its still a scenery highlight to me. Here I headed slightly inland before finding the deserted b-roads roads alongside the Humber before Howden. A good surface to ride on, but todays nemesis a constant wind from the north-west meant it was a moderate effort for a modest pace.

The end of the Ouse and start of the Humber from Blacktoft

Beyond Howden I started heading along further, quiet roads and just the odd, bobbly, trail to Selby. I'm not sure why the trail goes all the way north-west to Selby to then head south down to Doncaster. Maybe its the first suitable crossing of the Ouse, but this seems unlikely. Its not exactly a route highlight, but much worse was to come and some of the quiet villages proceeding gave me a cheery feeling as I passed though.

Heading southwards there were initially few settlements, but some great quiet roads which were fast now that the winds effect had been limited somewhat by my direction change. The highlights here were probably the bit which skirted the access road of a disused airfield and then a long straight section of fast trail alongside the New Junction canal where I overtook several narrow boats ;¬)

I started to suffer a bit along this section. Well over 60 miles in and I hadn't drunk an awful lot or ate more than modest snacks during brief stops. I needed to stop to buy some energy drink and get some food. I even made a small and rather stupid nav error which worried me. Passing through Bentley - another low-light - I had to make do with a lukewarm can of coke from an off-license. I pushed on, rueing not stopping at a small cafe about 10 miles earlier.

Viaduct over the River Don near Conisborough

I'd slowed down a bit and did further as I turned West along the river Don. I was greeted by the marvellous viaduct. I'd been considering stopping for food in Sprotborough but soon realised the route bypassed the town in the scenic Don valley on trails. The rest of the day turned out to be mostly trails - true to the name of this route. This had the upside of some great river valley and woodland views, but the downside of rough uphill trails as the gradual climb to the pennines began. Beyond 80m and I finally hit my first village for awhile, Harlington, and a shop. I feasted on a dry pasty washed down with a water bottle and filled my empty drinks bottle with cola (closest thing to an ebergy drink available - barring that Relentless muck).

I felt reinvigorated, just in time too as the landscape got more difficult through the Dearne Valley and then the Dove valley Trail - one of many old railway routes. I could get a good pace on some of the trails for awhile, but then would hit a momentum sapping rutted section. Also the constant 'bike gates' stopping me dead got pretty annoying for this tired cyclist.

About this time I was briefly panicked when I heard the noise of wind escaping and felt somthing spray my leg. My first thought was puncture... but I was still moving. My next though was that there was some hydraulic problem with disc brakes which caused air to escape. I don't even know if this can happen, but my brakes were still working so I discounted this. I quickly discovered the culprit, the water bottle nozzle had been blasted open by pressure created by the agitation of the fizzy drink within. This happened several times until I emptied the bottle a bit.

I then met my first character of the day as I closed on a runner making good pace on this gradually climbing section. As I closed on him at a bike gate I had to stop to get through. This guy in his combats and green t-shirt simply vaulted the low railing action-man style. It took me another minute or two to catch him again. I'd been in my windproof jacket all day due to the cold winds, but after this wooded and hard work section at the next road crossing I had to dismount and remove it and get some fluid down. I also phoned ahead to the B&B to say I was still on my way. Apparently a lot of people on their first day from Southport don't make it the 110 miles so this seemed polite.

At this point 'Barnsley Action-man' caught up with me. We had a quick chat, including a bit about him doing the Wainwright C2C with his brother when he was 60 (which I guess made this guy of simlar age though I wouldn't have guessed it). He was more a tough, lean broad chested, farm worker than skinny runner-type. He was off again up the next bit of hill trail before I had my jacket packed away. I passed him several miles later at the hilltop near Oxspring as I stopped at a junction to check my directions he waved to me from the pub, settled with pint in hand!

Winscar Reservoir from the Woodhead Pass

A big drop and 'bottom-cog' climb to Penistone on roads followed before rejoining the increasingly stoney and/or muddy trail path on the old railway route. At Dunford Bridge I was right up on the pennines and tackled a steep road uphill towards the height of this route near Woodhead pass at nearly 1500'. Considering the first 70 or so miles of the day were well below 100ft only gaining height on bridges or isolated undulations the last few miles has packed some punch - for a cycle trail at least.

The sun had now set and after some navigational uncertainty before the Woodhead Reservoir I finally found the correct path and faced the potentially tricky task of finding my B&B in the dark. I had lights, but had hoped not to use them. When I put the lights on I was glad I didn't have far to go as they were useless in lighting up the road ahead. I stopped at one remote house thinking that might be it, but after disturbing half-a-dozen or so large-sounding dogs I figured this wasn't it. The next remote house I came upon thankfully was my overnight stop. Greetings from the friendlier dogs here alerted the proprieter of The Old House - who was quickly out to help me get my bike put away and show me to my room, and shared kitchen and bathroom facilities.

After a shower and cup-o-tea I was raiding the kitchen cupboards for something to eat. Apparently lots of visitors shed weight here by dumping various packeted foods. Good for me, I'd anticipated being here a lot earlier and finding a pub near end of route. The male owner offered to bring me some food in from Tesco's - seems modern convenience was still just short drive away even here - but I said I was ok as didn't want to impose. A cup-o-soup, tin of beans and pack of crisps did for me, just enough to fuel a restful nights sleep.

So... day one.... My house, Hessle to Longdendale near the Rhodeswood Reservoir - 108 miles.

The great view from the B&B over Longdendale

Day two started with achey legs but a fantastic full english breakfast, good ingeadients well cooked. I also got to appreciate the views over the valley I hadn't seen the night before (pictured). I was off at about 9:10, painfully aware that unless I made good progress I'd miss my train.

Yesterday had proved the route was more difficult than I anticipated. This was due to the navigation element I'm not used to on bike - despite mostly excellent signage - and also how slow I'd been on the uphill trails beyond about 70 miles. Afterall this was a big step up in distance for me. A month ago a hard 40m cycle had given me an annoyingly achey back and I'd really destested the outing compared to trail running. Talk at the breakfast with other guests and owners had not been reassuring. mention of vandalised and re-pointed sites around Manchester and Liverpool and previous guests bad experiances of punctures on route from Southport due to broken glass and such. I'm sure had I been going the other way and been from that side I woulde have heard the same things about Hull ;¬)

I left the tranquility of Longdendale and my emotions rollercoastered early on. Much like the trail route, dropping pleasingly downhill only to then require a slow, low-gear climb nearly as far back up again. I felt the gods were against me at some points around here as the steepest downhills were invariably on very twisting turning, stoney or rutted trails where I couldn't let go. My sports hybrid is sturdier than most road bikes, but is no tourer or mountain bike. On the other hand there was some great scenery and super-smooth trail bits too. One highlight of this section was emerging from a twisty but immaculate trail path at the bottom of a green gorge before a tough climb into Broadbottom. Another was a huge path with a few miles of solid trail at Haughton Dale.

I stopped at another pleasent park, Reddish Vale, in the shadow of another impressive viaduct and decided it was time to ring up thetrainline.com and change my reservation. I would know way make the 15:20 train. The cheapskate part of me going for cheap afternoon tickets had come back to bite me as I had to pay double for the 17:20 train and only got £7.50 of original ticket price back. It took some time, getting number from enquiries, got my new train ticket, typed res number into phone as it was read out (I had no pen with me), got a new res number for bike reservation typed into phone and finally took a picture or two. I figure I'd still probably get to my destination with nearly an hour to spare. But the next section was to effect this likelihood.

More gratuitous viaduct photography at Reddish Vale

Heading through the park I almost immeadiately had to dismount to go up some steps. There were a few miles of quiet trail, but then I hit town, a traversal of Salford, which all and sundry who have done this trail or know about have mentioned as the worst bit. Lots of stopping and starting for lights, dismounting at bike gates, to cross road, micro navigation to follow the signs amongst a sensory assault of town centre street furtniture and traffic. I was so glad to get onto trail again along a riverbank.

Following a trail along old railway there was a diversion onto roads through East Didsbury. But trail service was resumed again on and off over the next few miles. Along the Mersey for bits, crossing under the M60 and passing several water parks, recrossing the M60 at Stretford as I headed out of town.

It was more like East and South Yorkshires riding yesterday now. Trail sections before quiet road sections and back on the flat. Then there was a long section of eastward trail along a very straight path, seemingly another of many ex-railways lines which were quite prevelent in Lancashire. I did struggle a bit on this section as my left achilles suddenly gave me several stabs of sharp pain. It had felt sore earlier, but this was a very big sign something wasn't right. I eventually passified it by adjusting my foot position on the pedal, slowing a bit and pushing on. This reduced the pain to the occasional stab, but the damage was already done and I just hoped I could still get to Liverpool in time after thisn further setback.

The long straight path extended westward for several miles through Heatley and Lymm, only intruupted by bike gates at road crossings. Eventually I was ejected out onto roads at Thelwall for a few miles of the Manchester Ship Canal and then back onto trails along the broadening Mersey and several wet and cold miles of rain along the quite bleak St Helens Canal path, much of it with Fiddler's Ferry power station blighting my horizon. Still it was reasonably fast, west-bound track which is what I needed in my sluggish state and with time ticking on.

Then followed a not unplesent spell along the River Mersey side path around Spike Island. A well maintained bit of trail before heading back inland and through Hale. During this time I did have one mishap on a dismounted section down a switchback staircase to lower down and cross a brook. I got too close to the metal fence and my bike handlebars wedged into it. In trying to unjam it the front fell off my new front light and disappeared following a several foot drop into undergrowth. The death knell of the only once used, but quite useless £16 LED light.

Through Hale and the rain of the last few hours was permeating my windproof top along the cold wind though to wet skin. I stopped and sheltered under a bus stop for a cereal bar to ready myself for one final push, through Liverpool. Then it was back on the bike, next stop was Speke, the edge of Liverpool proper by my estimation. My first taste of glass covered paths came on the grim underpass of the A561. The next few minutes cycling alongside this trunk road was grimmer still, wind in my face, getting sprayed by cars. I was glad to get away from this road, even if it was just for industrial estate paths between metal fences.

So getting onto the Liverpool Loop path was something of a joy. Liverpool should know it is lucky with these miles of tree-shrowded trails cutting though the outskirts looping a large part of the city, raised up above the city streets. Alas I was soon to leave this path and National route 62 - my host for most of the last few days - for good. My route now took me in to the city following National route 56 to within a short distance of Liverpool Lime Street. I just hoped the signs were of the frequency and standard of route 62 /TPT signs as I only had about an hour left. getting lost was not much of an option.

A bloody big hill was not a good start, I'd forgot how hilly Liverpool was, presuming it would be a flat port city like Hull. In a very low gear and with the occasional aggitation of a complaining right knee and left achilles as I stood up on my pedals I got up and followed 56 well as it wound through city streets. I passed along Penny lane without even realising. I guess I was expecting crowds of tourists, but actually got a quiet, leafy and well-to-do suburb.

Into Sefton park and i think my concentration lapsed as I took in my green surroundings. I made a left turn along the obvious wide path and pushed on through until I hit a road junction, but had no signs. Frustratingly I doubled back, time ticking, I couldn't afford to get lost much more and needed to get back on route quickly. I found a park map with "you are here" marking. I oriented my map to it and see that I should have pushed straight on through the park earier. Luckily i could push westward along a wide track here and hit the 56 again.... I hoped.

Luckily my nav skills hadn't let me down and I had the familiar, reasuring blue signs with red-boxed 56 on them, on leaving the park. I pushed through the next attractive park and along a quiet road cutting through the city. I contemplated stopping to take a picture of the marvellous Cathedral, but it was 16:55 and I needed to keep going, worrying I may get lost again. After som reckless driving along busy streets I arrived at the station without further navigational mishap at about 17:05.

The next 17 minutes were not without further challenge. After a tour of the station I located the unobvious prep-paid ticket machines and got my tickets without having to mess inputting the code I'd been given (which is nice). I know had time to grab some food quickly. Dilemna, huge queue at Burger King and I didn't have the time to lock up my bike and go into a shop. Then I noticed a little pasty stand with no queue - jackpot! I ordered a pasty and coffee before realising I didn't have enough cash left to pay for it. There followed a hundred yard, semi dash, weaving through crowds to the cashpoint and semi dash to the train (thankfully I'd made a not of platform number and location). One kind soul even assisted this muddy biker with pasty and hot drink in one hand, mud-strewn steel horse in other, to get his bike on the train.

It was a relief to be on, and even more relief to find a spot to store my bike. Even if I couldn't utilise my seat reservation. I had some banter with some Northern Irish football fans travelling to Manchester for a night out and stay before the United vs Liverpool match the next day. A forty minute wait for my connecting train at Manchester Picadilly also allowed me to get out of damp and muddy clothes which had been supplemented with a coffee stain on the previous train journey. I boarded the Hull train, found a seat near the bike rack and was thus afforded some relaxation and my first rest of the day being entertained by some girls on the way to a night out in Leeds.

I was back in the pub well before last orders, often struggling to keep awake despite a loud party going on. I slept well the next few nights with some great memories of this interesting introduction to long distance road and trail cycling. Final stats being 178m over nearly 18hours. That sounds very steady, but in reality it would have been more relaxing over another 2 or more hours and maybe a third day..... Oh and maybe with more training!

The alternative break

I suspect a few others who read this are similar in that they can't switch off for too long, or find reality a bit boring so seek to fill their time with excitement and challenge. Am I getting warm??

I've got a few days off towards the end of next week. My garden is a mess, my house and car need a clean and tidy, my upstairs toilet needs its flusher mending. These things may get done but guess what I'll be doing first.....?

;¬)

I will rebuild me!

"Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology..... better than he was before. Better, stronger, faster"

As the previous post suggests, I was getting some of the painful warning signs of a stress fracture around my lower shin. My physio all but confirmed so I've stopped running completly for the time being. There is more to life and endurance training than running after all.... there's a whole world of things to do out there surely?

The enduring charm of running is its simplicity and, if you don't waste money, its affordability. So that rules out expensive alternatives, I can't afford and won't entertain expense. Then there is simplicity. I've tried rock climbing, kite surfing, sailing and a few other active pursuits over the years. Fun as they were I've never stuck with them as the simplicity wasn't there - all the three above have a fair bit of kit that requires maintenence and lots of 'faffing' with ropes. I don't mind printing maps, drawing routes, packing a bag with food the day before a long run. But on the day I just want to turn up and go - and when I finish.... tired..... I just want to take my shoes off, eat, maybe have a pint.... and go.

So this brings me back to my usual fallback. Pre-mortgage I bought a fairly good sports-hybrid bike. So with the minimum of maintenence - pumped up tires, oiled chain, checked wheels weren't falling off - I've done a fair bit of cycling the last few weeks. This has included some thrilling mountain biking in the Afan forest in South Wales on a red route - scary and a great workout for the arms as well as legs, with all the twists and turns, rocks and tree roots to avoid. Since then I've been on road, racking up a few runs of 10-20m during the week and a 30's and a 40 the last three weekends. It was hard work in some of the strong winds of late, but since then I've actually started getting faster, which is motivating.

I'm not a religious man, but some signs, happenings and their timing seem to be more than just coincidence. My brother won a months free trial family gym membership in a pub charity raffle. Great timing for me! Though I'm not fan of gyms - with the vanity muscle-builders and the girls who walk on treadmills never breaking a sweat - I've been down three times in just over a week. I've done some rowing, stair climbing, cross trainer'ing and swimming.

So bike, swim, and use of technological fitness training machines is what I'll do to try and limit the fitness level deteriation. Despite a setback with the stress fracture - fall off a curb (not whilst drunk) and its hurting a bit again - I have faith that I will keep most of the fitness. I'm also thinking positively that I will expand my horizons and re-exercise some of those muscles that running may ignore, but that will benefit my running as part of a stronger all-round package. Whats the point in a minor setback defeating me I always aim to come back stronger and have from past injury lay-offs. Watch this space for a few PB's!!!!

The forgotten land of Blacktoft and Laxton

Several years ago I discovered a vast empty land. Almost cut off and bypassed from civilisation by the M62 in and out of Hull. Those who know a bit about East Yorks will know the A63 dual-carriageway leaves Hull, passes close to several large villages, becomes the M62 and then bolts on passed Goole towards junctions with the M18 - to go south - A1 - to go north or south - and further afield the M1 and Leeds...... I could go on.... but it would be dull!

So what lies around the barron stretch of M62 I'd zoom along at 69mph between the West Hull villages and Goole. Well north there are serveral small villages and the intetesting small hills and dry dales of the Wolds as well as the plain of York and York. South?...... the river Humber as per near Hull?..... not quite. Actually miles of land that makes the Netherlands look rather bumpy. Not a place I'd visit running, but ideal for my new forced CV workout on the bicycle.

On the past warm Sunday I made a break down the foreshore path to the next village out, moved inland and followed some steadily-busy roads, even taking in a small hill. Passed Brough I turned with the Transpennine trail down south to Ellerker, through the corner of sleepy Ellerker I then left the typical roads of the outskirts and ventured onto single track, potholed tarmac or loose gravel affairs. After a mile or so you cross the main train line out of Hull and hit Broomfleet. Unlike villages in the lakes, moors, dales, peaks which are quiet due to the hills that cut them off, this village is just quiet because it is part way down a couple of single track roads to nowhere. The M62 passes you by out of site and this is the biggest settlement in the area. There is a slightly different-era feel to this place and the pub looks distinctly shut.

The TP trail then detours down a loose stone path for several miles which eventually brings you out at the river Humber. Stunning vista's of the river towards the south bank on a sunny day?..... well, I couldn't confirm or deny. Reason being that this path and eventually several riverbank side roads run in the half-shadow of a tidal embankment, I told you this place was flat! and no doubt evidence of reclaimed land from river or marsh.

Beyond a crossing of a canal and the hamlet of Faxfleet where the Humber becomes the Trent at my side, comes the ride highlight for me - Blacktoft. If Brromfleet was another era, this is almost another world and smacks of a simpler way of life. Not really that much here but there is a good pub where you can sit down and look over the river Ouse towards the confluences with the Trent and Humber in quick sucession. This hamlet also gives its name to the the civil parish, the four local villages within make up a population of just just 321 at last census. The pub must be kept going by many a cyclist like myself and sunday driving, day-trippers. There is also a nature reserve if that floats your Kite.

On I push to Laxton where I head back. Next stop would be Howden, a small town, but thats far enough for today. Laxton is much like a combination of every nearly one-road hamlet I've passed through in the last 45 minutes - dominated by dated-looking farm architecture, many of the buildings look deserted, the pub looks shut and is up for let. I've done 21 miles and my back aches from this unaccustomed form of cardio-vascular exercise. The hardest thing out was cycling into the wind as I headed west on land with no natural geographical wind break. So now I fly along back through the hamlet trail I've just passed. Through Yokefleet, Blacktoft - that pub looks tempting..... another day though - Faxfleet, Broomfleet and back to the fringes of 21st century life. I arrive home having weaved my way back to Hull's outskirts and covered a quite pleasing 41 miles.

So my back ached, the scenery was flat and somehwat uninspiring for the most part, this should be everything I'd hate and never blog. But it was a nice, sunny, Sunday afternoon and I hope you've got something from this slightly different to the norm report as I did the ride. A good stretch of hard-pedalled, quiet road in an area that is enjoyable, just because it was different and probably wouldn't be in my trail/fell-running mode. Who wants to be a one-trick pony afterall?

Temporary setback

I'm getting more of it at work than from running, but I'm assured a stress fracture is actually related to overuse ;¬)

I finished LTOB with an aching right lower shin, very painful the following few days with a pronounced limp and need for Ibuprofen. The swelling and pain settled with a week without running, but a brief plod on Tuesday morning confirmed all was not still right. The physio is as sure as he can be without a CT scan that it is a stress fracture.

So its a break from impact exercise for me. Good job I have a bike ;¬)

Ultra Tour Mont Bradwell

Following my last entry I felt I was back - ready to resume long trail running. After 104 miles, 31 should be a doddle shouldn't it? Well the organisers have gone to great lengths to assure this is not the case and this was an exciting, varied and most of all HILLY course.

The initial climb, through the cement works, through Pin dale onto a rocky moor road and then down Cave dale (slippery when wet). Castleton intervenes for a mile of flat and some supporters on route (the only ones). The 2nd climb which goes upto Hollins Cross and straight down the other side is where the hard work starts.

A brief respite on the road to Edale, but then its up the zig-zag path to Ringing Roger, into low cloud and right onto the high moor on Kinder, the 'dib' being at the Druids stone. The emphasis on being a tough challenge is then further enforced with an initial scramble down heather and rock, before grassy paths which were slightly too steep for comfortable running on knee's that are suddenley exposed as not being quite as recovered as I though they were. Back across to the ridge of rock in the centre of the Hope valley and this time up Back Tor and to the summit of Lose Hill.

Already I was seeing myself suffering on descents withn inner knee niggles so I wasn't really letting go on grassy trail descents that are a million time kinder than the rock paths I gotsed to in the Lakes. The terrain so far was not unfamiliar to me from the excellent Hope Moors and Tors and a long run I ran in this area during easter. Making use of the classic steep climbs of the compact valley around Hope, the central ridge linking Mam Tor, Hollins Cross and Lose Hill and then the High Peak district area of Kinder to the north. Throw in the good quality runnable paths and this is an excellent adventure playground for short and long trail and fell runs that I don't visit enough.

Skirting Hope it was now new territory for me, rounding Win Hill through woods and then dropping to Ladybower reservoir (pic above) and the following an old railway line path towards Bamford and the toughest climb of the day from here up a steep hard track referred to in the route description as "the Escalator". There was then a bit of roadwork before the climb up onto Stanage Edge (left). We followed the boulder-strewn edge path for a good few miles. The sun had started to peak out and the wind up here was very slight comapared to the usual on this ridge. It was reasonably flat so we mostly ran this bit. And maintaining a run was starting to feel hard work. After much dodging of walkers and passing hundreds of rock climbers we arrived at the CP - tantalisingly close to an Ice Cream van.

From here we dropped into a small valley gradually downhill for a few miles of quite good, soft footing to Toads Mouth Bridge. Obscurely the dib control was down quite a steep bank actually hanging over the river - I wonder if anybody fell in?

The majority of the remaining miles were undulating rather than long climbs and descents. This took in more river valleys and quite a lot of forest which is always pleasent. After nearly 8 hours we appeared on a path heading down to Bradwell and the looming cement works. I was quite pleased to get thye picture, right, not only a view but some flying action in there too. This captures the outdoor pursuit nature of the area perfectly for me. Mark and I finally dragged into the cricket field in 8hrs and 6 minutes - also having covered 34 miles. As we didn't get lost very much I suspect the 31m advertised is way out! A pint and a pizzza later finished of the day nicely. Bodily I'm not quite intact writing this now though. The sore knees eased pretty quickly. But I have a slightly worrying swelling and pain on my right-lower shin. Impact bothers it as does pointing my toes out. A bit of rest and non impact exercise is on the cards for a week or so.

The BIG ONE - Ultra Tour Lake District (conclusion)

Howtown to Mardale Head - 8.6m, 2421ft asc, 2152 desc, 3h32m

The Mardale Head CP was like an asteroid field. With a few lumbering, comet-like 100'ers doing their best not to be struck by the fast moving, every second counts, from all directions, 50'ers, who even seemed to be talking in a fast pace language disimilar to what I thought was my own. But then these guys and gals would probably be in the top third of the field. Mark and I saught refuge behind the treat table and a few other 100'ers hid away from the frantic action in the millhouse. 

We moved off at our own steady pace treading the boggy fields on the way up to the next big climb to a pass at the highest point of the course. As we moved away from the gill, on the narrow path upwards the relentless stream of 50'ers tried to get past slowed a bit. Which was good as I was fed up of feeling obliged to run near the side of the path to let people through and keep looking back over my shoulder. I tried not to show my current grumpiness, but felt a bit justified in being so. Mark must have been feeling the same and we agreed to make no spectacular efforts to let people through. This was a big hill, we were doing people a favour in steadying them whilst they found a way past. Despite this Steve passed me about this point, still full of life and on the way to a good 50m time - he was gone in the blink of any eye.

I think this was the single longest climb, possibly taking us up a large chunk of that 2440ft. As far as a false summit near Gowk Hill. Moving on slowly across the wet moorland plateau the stream of 50'ers behind were now less reluctant to overtake. One last push up to the pass between Wether Hill and Red Crag, hardly a pass it was nearly as high as the peaks! On top we ran into low level cloud on the moorland. Rain droplets were distinctly chilling me more now then on the less exposed journey up. We ran for a while on this high plateau passing the highest point of our journey at near 2200ft. I was glad of the descent, a further chance to move at speed and downhill, a double warmth bonus as we moved closer to lake level. Dave and Charlie passed on a parallel path, but was gone before I got chance for a chat. I may have been a pace-match to the 50'ers around me on the ascent, but on flat and descent, freshness won out for most.

It was a slightly technical descent to the shore path of Haweswater. Despite the wet ground I was still able on the technical downhill paths I thrive on. Despite Hawesater being a reservoir the seemingly undisturbed and innaccesable nature of this valley made it a highlight for me on the recce. I remembered that warm day as I ambled on the often hard going shoreside path to the south of the lake that goes on, and on, and on.... The people around us now were more scarce and often had the yellow numbers of the 100 mile event. The 50'ers tend to overtake and be gone. You may notice I was slightly envious of this freshness on this section. Quite a long time later we approached the end of the lake and the weather turned, hard, lakeland style. Heavy rain was unleashed and despite being less than half a mile from the CP I didn't wait for then to pull out the waterproof smock. A long section, the growing tiredness being reflected in our first three hour plus time on this hard section.

Mardale Head to Kentmere - 5.9m, 1657ft asc, 1945 desc, 2h52m

The results show that 14 people dropped out at Mardale Head, only two of them from the 100. That may seem backwards, but thinking about it if I'd gone this far and wanted to pull out I might have my mind changed by the current downpour, at an outdoor CP, in a remote area where it could take hours to get a lift back from. Keep moving and warm if you still can. Maybe the inexperiance of some 50'ers led them to a premature decision? Just an opinion. I had some soup here - starting to appreciate how great hot soup and a roll is on a long run - and for the first time ever decided to don the waterproof trousers for the first time on an event.

The ascent after Howtown was long and high, but the ascent here felt harder work. So steep it had switchbacks up to Gatesgarth Pass. The higher we got the stronger the wind and the lashing with rain. Apart from my face I was completely waterproofed, but this was only a small mercy right now. Things didn't improve on the descent that followed. It was very steep and rocky at first, which was starting to really bother my feet again. Couple this with the fact my cheap, impulse purchase, "I'll probably never need use", waterproof trousers were too long and were getting under my feet when I ran. Eventually a smidgeon of ingenuity grasped me and I rolled them up at the elasticated waist-band, giving me sufficient 'ground clearence' while not quite garrotting my 'gentlemans bits'. I still wasn't breaking speed records though. After often setting the pace on downhills I wass now struggling to keep up with Mark on the punishing rocky path.

I was lifted for a moment when Claire passed. Nice to see another familiar face. She had not had it easy, falling twice and breaking her garmin.... gutted! The interlude was soon over though and Claire and her 3 girl team were gone. The section dragged on without highlight with just a slight lessening of the rain and wind at lower level. It was good to get to the Kentmere Institute and the third major food CP. It had been another slow going section. I was hoping for improvementy now as the trckiest sections were behind us.

Kentmere to Ambleside - 7.1m, 1594ft asc, 1936 desc, 3h23m

Kentmere was a-buzzin, tiring runners slumped on chairs all over, many taking opportunity to remove wet layers. The same pasta and rice pudding were on offer here as previous major foodpoints. However, this time there was delicious fruit smoothy as well... mmmmmm. A nice zing to it, a treat for the palate and I hoped maybe it could give my legs some zing too. I saw Claire for the second to last time on the run here. Nick also entered here not long after me and Mark. He seemed to be 'dibbing in' sometime in the 10mins behind us all the time up to this stage of the second half.

Mark and I headed out again, the gloom of the weather and low cloud now further emphasized by the hastening of darkness. To mimic the pattern of the last three second half stages we had a slow climb over an high pass to start with. Thankfully this one was shorter and less exposed than the previous two. A little ray of light entered my conciousness, "all downhill to Lakesrunner in Ambleside now, then just three short stages" - the highs and lows were coming thick and fast now. There was a long and pleasently less rocky than the previous stage descent  to Troutbeck next. And after Troutbeck, just one ascent and longer descent to Ambleside. Project Ambleside was going quite well. Even the rain had stopped.

Just before Troutbeck the headtorches were necessary again. My feet were hurting more and more now. It felt like the bandages - my saviours since Dalemain - were now rubbing against my soles at the front and the balls of my feet were also very sore on every impact. Ambleside would be my saviour, touch up my feet there and that'll see me through! Not much memory remains of the end of this section, one climb and some undulating farmland and very stoney and slippery woodlan descents (ouch, ouch, ouch). I kept dropping of the pace of Mark and the small group that we were with now. My energy levels were barely depleting, I was being limited by the stiff short strides I was taking to limit foot impact. We descended into a fairly sedate Ambleside, not many revellers walking about considering it was a Saturday night in summer - though it was now twenty to midnight. The 30-35 hour pace was slipping away fast! In fact I was ten minutes over 30 hours when I dibbed in.

Ambleside to Chapel Stile - 4.8m, 804ft asc, 659 desc, 2h43m

The shoes came off at Ambleside assuring a long stop. In the 30-40 minutes here I made what turned out to be very inneffectual repairs. Fortoying the bandage with more zinc oxide tape and putting on some padded plasters. I was also down to my last Ibuprofen, having only packed a mostly used pack containing three strong ones and forgetting the extras from my drop bag at Dalemain.

When we got off again I could tell instantly my repairs had brough no respite. It was a dagger through my heart! Hobbling painfully up the moor ascent I convinced Mark to push on ahead as he was noticably moving better than me and had nearly fallen asleep at the last CP whilst I dithered with my smashed 'plates of meat'. It wasn't fair to slow him further and he wouldn't have left me had I not asked. His torchligh soon disappeared over the brow of the hill.

The stony path off the moor was awful and I was moving in geological time until I could find smooth path again. Thankfully this section had very modest ascent and descent, mostly over at the start. I perked up a bit as I ran through parkland on the super smooth Cumbria Way footpath past Elter Water - the lake - and through Elterwater - the village. I maintained efforts of fast walk/slow jog along bits of this section. Another short woodland track and I was onto the road near Wainwrights in - very much closed for the night - and down the road to the CP at the school.

Chapel Stile to Tilberthwaite - 7.7m, 1319ft asc, 1096 desc, 4h16m

I caught up with Mark and Nick at the school, but let them get along while I fed and watered up. Just this longish section now and then the final section is just a compact if steep ascent and descent. Just got to get through this. I made ok, if slow progress up into Great Langdale. This would be a highlight by day, but tonight it was cloudy, or maybe foggy, at quite low level so even with headtorch I couldn't see that far. It was all going reasonably well along the muddy, and well wettened footpaths, I could walk ok up and on the flat, even if I couldn't run these bits now.

I navigated without issue and was glad to be at the zig-zag ascent up Side Pike pass. A high maybe?..... well if it was the lows were about to get pretty damn low. Past Blea Tarn, there is a rocky, stoney, muddy, rutted but by no means awful path compared to some I'd tackle. But I couldn't run down. Every footstep fired sparks of pain up my body, I tried to ignore it and push along, but this only worked for a few minutes. I was now truly a pedestrian and my ambitions were reevaulated to completion in the 40 hour cut off. It started to get light again and I stopped to remove my headtorch and eat. A group of 50'ers went passed me, I assured them I was ok and just taking a breather. I put my windjacket on, my enforced pace meant I was starting to cool down despite the warmish morning. I set off again a few minutes later, hoping maybe I could try and get into or near the group just passed.

Down a muddy bank - "ahhhh, soft ground" - and through some low vegetation into the little wet valley to thye road. I had brief hopes of catching 'the group' as they'd taken a long route around the wet parts of the valley. This had been near dry on recce day, but a lot of rain had fallen since then. Still my navigation was still doing me proud as I found a feint path that took me over some of the less soggy ground and over the streams at narrow points. The group we just diosappearing around the corner of the road as I got upto it. I'd lost them now, I couldn't run on the hard tarmac descent for very long or at any speed and I was soon lonely again, trudging up a rocky track over a low pass. The descent down to Tilberthwaite was a helping of pain to match the previous few descents and I was realy starting to let it get to me. A few 100'ers started to repass me, which didn't boost my morale.

Coming off the hill. I saw the CP van up ahead along a short tarmac drive to the farm. I'm not usually one for emotion, but I welled up. I was seriously thinking of giving up. I had 2 hours 50 minutes to do 3.5m, but I wasn't sure I even could, I could probably get up there, but the descent would be hideously painful. Approaching the CP I decided I would pull myself together and go on if I could get an Ibuprofen or something to numb the pain or at least offer the placebo effect.

Tilberthwaite to Coniston - 3.5m, 928ft asc, 1236 desc, 2h43m

My composure failed, as I opened my mouth to talk to the lone marshall I started to blub. As I left the CP I felt a bit of a wimp for this, but on the other hand it had been a massive challenge, I was suffering and I hadn't given up. The marshall had no pain pills, but Julia, who I knew from a recce, who had been in the group ahead got me two cocodamol from her friend and running partner who was, ironically, a pharmacist. I don't know if I would have given up there without these, I feel probably not.


I took the pills, had an eat and drink and started up the steep path up between the slate quarries and deep ravine. I'd loved this bit on the recce, it felt like a wonderful short fell race on fresher legs. A big climb, a breather over moorland and then the kind of technical descent I thrive on down. The descent being significantly bigger than the ascent it should be running nirvana. Not so today.... quite the opposite. The night is always darkest just before the dawn is a proverb I don't understand - technically its untrue - but maybe it relates more to struggle. Whatever, it epitomised this section for me. Not exactly like going through hell, but at the time it was deeply unpleasent.


Th cocodamol didn't seem to help much with the pain, if anything the seemed to contribute to oncoming drowsiness as I was getting near the top of the climb. I seemed to drift off and then awaken, try to push as my pace slacked to nothing at these times, but then drift again. I was pretty much asleep on my feet at times on the early partof the moor alongside Crook beck. When at one stage I figured I'd probably moved half a mile in thirty minutes on flat I knew action was needed. I pushed on, concentrating on a fast walk, get to the start of the descent in 30 minutes. It kind of worked, though I took a gel to sharpen up before the rough descent.


As I started to go down the feet were at their worst. I wan't even walking, literally picking my way down the early steep bit, stopping to lower myself down any bits where the path dropped a foot or two over rocks - which it did a lot. More runners from both length events passed me. I felt like I shouldn't be in this position, I'd probably outpaced these fine atheletes for 75 miles, but my fall hadn't been gracious. Still, many were very supportive, especially 50'ers, and I did my best to reciprocate, though it probably sounded like incomprehensible mumbling.


It seemed to take and age to get down the quarry path, one point I stopped and sat down, head in hands, hoping for inspiration and nearly fell asleep again. 1000ft descent can take an eterntity and its something I don't want to repeat. By the bottom I knew if I could have 30 minutes before the timeout I could get home, could I, I really hoped so. I'd hated the way I'd fallen apart, making the 40 hours was all I had left, timeout would be a bitter pill even if I finished the 104 miles!


Then Claire appeared, coming up the hill. She'd finished some three hours ago, had seen Mark come in and then decided to run up and find me. It was a massive assistance to have somebody to plod the final mile or so with. Having gone on about how hard it had been to her on as we talked on the way into Coniston I feel quite humbled in that she was running along with an undaignosed broken elbow! and probably had been since a fall last week. That is just super-tough.


Into Coniston, passed the pubs, not quite open yet, and down the road, into the school. I got a massive applause as I headed in. I felt unworthy, but attempted to show my appreciation of the support. 39hours 51minutes. I got weighed in, sat awhile, started to nod off, so decided to head for food, much as I wanted to sleep.


Epilogue


I borrowed Claires stick to walk across the field to the tent. I saw Steve on the way over, he'd had a good sleep and looked as fresh as if he'd been finished for days. I then attempted to have a guinness with Claire and Mark, but couldn't see it through. I need to sleep, but first had to drive my car back over the field as the bowels were kicking back into life. I'd have probably sh*t myself had I walked. Even walking over the gravel road from my parked car to the school was murder on my now unshoed feer. Upon returning to the tent I was out like a light for at least 3 hours and missed the presentation.


I was awake earlay afternoon and removed the bandages and put fresh socks on my feet. I know had huge blisters on the souls of my feet where the bandages were probably being rubbed by my socks. I felt a bit better for the sleep, a few cans of cider and my soft "walk around" trainers. Mark, Nick and I even managed a walk to Coniston for some good grub in a local pub. All washed down with some of the excellent local brews - Bluebird and one called Langdale (I think). Clinical disection of the event was performed between us - the summary being; mega tough but worth it.


I was up early the next day and got back in good time with a snooze break and strong coffee on route. Once home I washed my feet and got to work on the blisters, grazes, broken skin and the loss of a big toenail. The blisters were of suffiecient size that I had to bleed them. Had I jetted all the green-tinged gunk into a shot glass there would have been what looked like a generous shot of some exotic liquer. A week on and the plasters were mostly off, blisters healed or well on the way. I ran the following Saturday, a nice jog around Swinton estate from Masham. Slow, but pleasent on the country road. I was however almost stopped by a stabbing pain inside my right knee whch came on at about 3.5m and remained for the next 1.5m.


Thankfully, even this seems to have receeded and I managed a good hill session with the club yesterday, distinctly steadier than usual, but I finished in one - tired - piece.


Again? Right now I'm thinking I'd like to try and do the 50 and try and finish up the field next year. But I won't rule out the 100. I'm so glad I finished it, not the easiest 100 to start with and it gives me real confidence that I can now take on any physical challenge I set my mind to.

The BIG ONE - Ultra Tour Lake District (part 2)

Buttermere to Braithwaite - 8.6m, 2440ft asc, 2539 desc, 2h17m

This CP gave me the required pickup, it was suprisingly busy for the middle of the night in an event for about 150 people that lasted over 100m. There seemed to be at least 20 here - Buttermere's first rush hour. The warm mushroom soup and roll went down well as well as a few sweeter snacks. I thought for a moment Mark was having and adverse "gut" reaction to the event as he rushed outside following a hot drink. He was ok moments later, probably just drank a couple of hot drinks too fast and overloaded the stomach.

We rolled out of the village hall with a few others to be almost immeadiately called back as we missed the turn off into Ghyll Wood. We followed a small group on the single path forest track, just once having to climb after taking a low path we shouldn't have and getting to a dead-end near the beck. We emerged from the wood and ran along the bottom of a bracken clad hill right and a gill left. The group in front had pulled away a bit and once again missed the turning. Sensing it wouldn't be obvious I had GPS in hand to confirm the narrow left fork through foliage up the hill as I approached. The guys ahead were out of site and earshot but eventually realised their error and tracked back up a steep part of this hill. My navigation strategy was working out better than most, bouying me again.

I was moving well on the countouring narrow paths around Whiteless Breast (titter) and Bleak Rigg. I had a chat with another runner who had been following close. It turned out he knew this section of course well so I figured I'd try and keep close on the next few miles into the unknown. We were run-walking on a gradually upwards path on a mostly slight gradient with peaks to left and drop down bank into beck on right. Other groups joined us as we dropped down to cross several becks and gills. A bit of sub-contious safety in numbers bringing there pace along maybe. Up ahead when not blocked by the hill flank we could see a string of headtorch lights along the valley, climbing gradually higher on this great contouring path that I must revisit in day.

The path was very narrow and I think there were a few stumbles. I think Mark had more than average, he wasn't sure why as we were both moving along at good pace and not too much effort. I chatted to another guy who'd done all sorts of challenges and who seemed to have deemed this his last one... for a while, until a build-up of aches and issues could be sorted. I sure hope he completed it, a fitting peak after many years of adventuring.

The continuous accent eventually ran dry as we climbed out of the valley via Sail Pass (deja vu?) and then started to descend contouring around the other side. Initially steeply with a terrifying drop to the right to warn off any overexuberence. We down-dulated along awhile, but the stage highlights were mostly done now. The group we were in didn't believe me when I speculated that the settlement of lights ahead was probably Braithwaite. In truth, it did seem too soon after the slow progress I'd adjusted to on the previous stage. But then we descended onto road, a footpath and then the silent, centre of Braithwaite and our first major food stop - early breakfast. 33.9m - 9h41m

Braithwaite to Blencathra centre - 8.2m, 1548ft asc, 905 desc, 2h39m

Pasta with tomato sauce, rice pudding, coca-cola, hot drinks, cakes, sandwiches and pringles were all on offer here in the comfortable and well lit Church hall. After a good fill Mark and I were off into the warm night again. I'd felt pretty rough when I'd recce'd the route starting here on one of the hottest days of the summer not so long ago. I already felt better today, the smooth tarmac outa town a nice change and some "money in the (pace) bank". I could even turn my headtorch off along the well lit A66.

We then skirted Keswick before heading north-east up Spoony Green Lane, following good paths uphill through small woods on the "highway" up towards Skiddaw. The headtorches came off here as the sunlight appeared beyond Blencathra. We jinked right of the path up and rounded rough paths contouring Lonscale Fell. The next 3m or so horseshoed around between high peaks on a mid-level path high above a beck. It was quite novel to look across the valley andsee other runners several miles, initially ahead, then behind. We eventually rounded Blease Fell. 

We didn't run that much on this section, losing pace on other groups. I think I was now having a bad patch as my feet were already paining me on footfall. As we descended to  the Blencathra centre it was time my first loo-nnn-gg stop.

Blencathra centre to Dockray - 7.7m, 1440ft asc, 1027 desc, 2h24m

I filled my water bottle, topped up my energy drink and grabbed some food as was customary and necessary at these CPs. Then I began the slow process of removing my shoes and socks. It already didn't look good, sore and cracked soles and some blistering. During the week after the Wasdale race I'd noticed how my feet had dried and cracked up. Not sure why, I'd began attempts to soften and heal the skin in the week that followed. They seemed near ok before the event, but here at just over 40m in I suspected anything less than my less than 100% intact feet beforehand might exagerate and quicken any wear and tear and might be my downfall. I was going to have to earn this completion the hard way.

Plastered, padded and mummified in zinc oxide tape, my feet took me out of the door nearly 40 mins after arriving. I felt a bit guilty for delaying Mark and we'd been passed by several others including Britnick. Still better to take the time and play the long game. At least I wasn't like the poor, shivering withdrawal we left behind at the Centre. On paper a money in the bank section lay ahead, downhill and then lost of flat and very subtly undulating stuff pretty much to the end. In reality I'd learned from recceing that the long section of Moor road was the bleakest part of the entire route and may well be an ordeal for the suffering.

My feet felt slightly comfier in their new padding so we pushed on down the hill towards the old railway track. then along here we started catching people up with a sustained run. by the time of the the sections only hard climb up the boggy moor things were looking up with serveral overtakes inflating my confidence bubble again. The moor road turned out not to be hell as on the hot recce day, when I was running quite dehyrdrated. We pushed along, challenging ourselves to run most of the flat, all of the downhill and picking spots partially up the short ascents to run to before a walk break.

This worked and we soon came off the road, passed the wood and arrived at the CP in the Car Park. Allowing for nearly 40mins of time lost static at the start of the stage I was pretty pleased with knocking out nearly 8m in considerably less than 2 hours. Was the worst passed?

Dockray to Dalemain - 9.8m, 1168ft asc, 2040 desc, 2h56m

The longest section lay ahead and the fare on offer to the runners at the CP vehicle wasn't as tempting as the smell of the marshalls fry up, so we didn't hang around. There was quite a substantial downhill to start off with. Near 1m to Dockway village on road - ching, ching - then a steadier descent on woodland trail down to Aira Force and nearly Ullswater. But we turned west to contour around Gowbarrow Fell.

It was a bit of a trudge up, feeling like we'd gained the stages claimed 1168ft of climb in about 2m. But this was another highlight. The green and wooded banks Ullswater curling around beneath us to the right, Gowbarrow fell towering to our left, classic trail running! However, it couldn't quite take my mind off my feet, mostly forgotten during the previous, fast stage. Now reawakened to pain following the big descent. We came off the round-fell path and headed into the woods. A brief stop to nibble on some trail mix - how appropriate - perked me up for the final pull to Dalemain. I replied postively to a text from Claire which asked how our night had gone. There was now another descent through fields, then more ascent (how?) and we eventually had a rather long road section to progress along.

We were nearly run down by an inconsiderate farm worker who plowed past us in tractor at full speed on a very narrow road. He stopped up ahead and there was a slightly ugly scene that I will not dwell upon. Long story short I think the guy had got out of the wrong side of his bed. Through Dacre village and past the seemingly out of place Dacre Castle, it was now just a 2km road to our stop. I seemed to be working overly hard to run on these flat sections and was glad to get to the marquee at Dalemain. I needed a pick-me-up BAD. 59.7m - 17h39m - real time: 11:09

Dalemain to Howtown -  6.8m, 935ft asc, 827 desc, 2h43m

It was great to be greeted by Claire at this CP. With less than an hour until the start of the 50 mile event she selflessy looked after Mark and I and chatted for as long as possible before she went to line up. Pasta and tomato sauce was the order of the day, along with a few cups of cola and numerous other snacks I can't recall. the CP staff we great as ever, doing as much for us as they could. I even visited the medical team. the doc took a look at my feet and ordered I should be put down..... no not really! He did a proper job of wrapping my feet in a sticky padded bandaging that felt great combined with clean socks from my drop bag.

I also made an impromptu apperarence in a documentary about the event. Voicing my thoughts and experiances and showing off my battered feet (pre bandaging). In fact the film crew seemed most interested in peoples feet. Many feet on show had the pale, swollen look of feet that had spent a lot of time in damp and wet conditions. Back to the documentary, wonder if I'll make the final cut?

It was a long stop, nearly 50mins as we made tracks just before the 50 kicked off. Soon to join us following its 4m loop of the grounds. I munched on a ginsters steak slice from my drop bag as I walked away from the CP, culinary treat of the day I think.

After a few flat fields and a riverside path in a flat and most un-lake district area physically, we passed through Pooley Bridge. That was the last major civilisation for now, up the tarmac road and then a path up onto the moor. The long stop, foot aid and company of all the 50'ers had really picked me up - I think Mark too. We had a game of guess how long after the start the lead 50'ers will pass us? My guess of 70minutes was somewhat out even with the extra 4m they covered. The lead group of three bounded past us at real pace well within an hour.

This made for quite a fun and refreshing stage of the run. With fast 50'ers passing us regularly, often very supportive, even praiseworthy in their comments of the 100'ers despite the probable gulf in "class" between their pace and ours. I tried to be supportive back, but they didn't really need it at this stage. We were soon off the moor and turned off the path into Howtown. 66.4m - 20h23m * considering I was at 33.9m in 9hr41m the pace is still pretty good for a finish between 30 and 35 hours ;¬)


TBC.....

The BIG ONE - Ultra Tour Lake District

I started this little blogging journey to report my preperation for the Atlantic Coast Challenge nearly a year ago. Back then three trail marathons in three days seemed a massive challenge. Since the ACC I've surfed a wave of momentum which has brought me through a 50miler and the Fellsman and deposited me at the mercy of another awesome challenge. All in much less than 12 months, which seems fast, but maybe it was just the kick up the arse I needed after about ten years of running incorporating lots of road racing from 5k to marathons which was starting to feel a bit "same old....".

Moving along, following the reality check at the Wasdale race I basically spent the next 2 weeks trying to be as innactive as possible barring a short run every few days to keep the legs turning over. I also ate well, but not irresponsibly and drank plenty of non-dehydrating  fluids and a reduction in the dehyrdrating kind.

I perhaps had my least stressful organisation, packing and journey. I'd done a trial run with my backpack fully-loaded the week before and was happy with the weight and comfort. So the rest got packed fairly stress-lessly the day before. I had a good sleep the night before but still woke at 7:30 and took a leisurely breakfast and drive to Coniston. Arriving at just after midday I could now take a leisurely 5 hours to kit check, eat and prepare for the start.

Mark was already in the field of Coniston school and I was just in time to help complete putting up the tent. We were soon able to head up to the school and get our "weigh in" and kit check out of the way before the possibility of queues. I left the hall after a succesful kit check. Now with two tyvex strips on my right wrist, one with my weight printed on, another to strap the dibber on. I also had my Montane Lakeland 100 running top, waterproof map and roadbook. It all felt very organised and thought out. Exactly the reassurance you need before such a long event.

There was now plenty of time to take a leisurely lunch in Coniston with mark and Claire. Claire taunted me and Mark having a beer, as her event started tomorrow. But I was happy not to and enjoyed a healthy but filling jacket potato with cheese. I pointed out that we might look rather odd to others sat outside the pub. The three of us sat here with tags around our wrists with the dibber device may look like we were out on day release from the asylum.

The next few hours consisted of a few toilet visits, a bit more hydration and some last minute snacking to try and get as comfortable as possible before the start. There was also the compulsary briefing with a guest appearence by no less than Joss Naylor, fell-running legend.

Fast forward to just a few minutes to go before the start and the sun comes out for about the first time today and the heat is raised just a notch. I could do without this. but at least I know its now early evening and it won't last.

Coniston to Seathwaite - 6.4m, 2106ft asc, 1949 desc, 1h30m

5:30 and we were off, up the slight hill to the main road into Coniston. No question of walking this small slope. We then disturbed the traffic on the main road for a moment and gave the people outside the pubs something to talk about - "Thats the slowest race I've ever seen", "Whats with the backpacks?". We were soon off the main road and heading up the first real hill. I was sweating and walking halfway up this one due to the recently reappeared sun and the need to get rid of some excess heat via sweat quickly. It was then off roads altogether onto a trail and a half loop around the grand Old Man of Coniston with great views up on the right and down to the lake left.

The good path then steadily undulated for a few miles before the big climb of the stage over Walna Scar pass. It was a walker, but didn't last long and we soon topped out for a long descent. The descent was tricky as for most of the way down it was sufficiently steep to let go and not try and hold back, but on the other hand it was so early in a such a long event. We then hit a road to run down to the first CP in the village hall what seemed like no time at all.

Seathwaite to Boot - 6.7m, 1165ft asc, 1345 desc, 1h47m

On paper this could have been another 1:30 section. Little further than the last and a lot less climb. In reality, after some woodland trail running on a slightly boggy path we were running valley bottom trails, farmland and plantations - all of which were pretty boggy going with the recent rains.The plantation section took quite a while on very liquid footpaths and a slight upward gradient. A descent followed and a shock as I nearly ran over the body of a recently deceased sheep! My mind was telling me we were near the section end.

In reality the section dragged on quite a bit longer. Through a stream valley, around a farm on permissive paths before another woodland trail. The run into Boot was downhill on a track and then road. Its a shame the name of this place is likely to be blighted forever by recent events as it looks a cracking small village. A scattering of pubs with atmospheric beer gardens, the pleasent low, green valley backdrop. The unusual CP location at the corn mill on the north flank of Eskdale was like a trip back in time inside with dim lighting and bygone era decoration and tools scattered around. It was cooling a bit now as the light dimmed, but the end of day weather was a sign of the night to come.

Boot to Wasdale Head - 5.4m, 906ft asc, 817 desc, 1h24m

In planning I'd regarded this section and the previous as "money in the bank", not much climb and quite short. The last section hadn't quite panned out that way, at first this one didn't seem to be either. An initial uphil trudge led us onto Eskdale Moor, whish saw a low gradient climb on sometimes wet and technical path/trail so we didn't run much here. Onto the moor and it flattened out a bit. Quite a green grass, good going sort of moor comapaired to some of the tussocky swamps I've run. In the failing light mountains loomed in the distance. Despite the clear skies one or two were even shrowded in cloud..... yep, that would be Wasdale then.

A slight descent to the tarn and then some wet foot crossings stream crossings and boggy grass near the tarn head. We undulated slighty uphill before appearing in the gap between Illgill head and the foot-slopes of Scafell. Navigation suddenly became very easy as we descended the rocky path towards the NT campsite in the opposite direction of the start of the Wasdale race. Even in the near darkness the views of Wasdale's menacing peaks were as good as any we'd seen on the race day two weeks ago. The lack of wind and rain also saw the lake millpond-esque.

We had a good jog down the road through Wasdale head where the pub was seeing good trade from its captive audience of campers and the odd local (there can't be many). In a barn behind the pub the busy CP saw numerous people pulling out headtorches - myself included, filling water carriers and enjoying the extra-bonus of soup on offer from this CP. I was already appreciating any change I could get from sugary carbs that were making me nauseous.

Wasdale Head to Buttermere - 6.8m, 2437ft asc, 2306 desc, 2h43m

After the challenging climb of section 1 we'd had a comparitive lack of climb. This was our escalation. Two stages I hadn't recce'd that on paper looked to be the toughest back-to-back, it was also now dark. I felt quite good on the lower slope paths heading towards Black Sail pass, a bit of a buzz to have got to at least Wasdale without headtorch and in good time against my rough plan of 4mph Friday PM daytime sections. The same rough plan just required 3mph overnight. My only slight irritation was my headtorch pressing against my forehead giving me slight discomfort. I'd never noticed this previously as I'd only worn it in in more wintry conditions over a hat.

As we rounded Kirk Fell the only way was up and it was time for hard walking again. Ahead we could see lights gradually climbing the blackened hillside in a spread out pattern. So no issues with directions around here? But then after crossing the rampaging Gatherstone Beck the path seemed to disappear. The GPS track and slight recollection from descending here during our aborted Wasdale Fell race meant we headed up the steep grass bank, tempting as it was to follow a few people just ahead who kept low to the the beck assuming a steep climb later. Just as the calves started to moan the path crossed me and I shouted down to Mark. The aforementioned people just in front would rejoin the path near us 5-minutes or so later after a much longer ascent up the steep bank.

Much climbing later we found the reassuring broken metal gate at the top of Black Sail pass and moved onto the stoney zig-zag down the slope. The lights up ahead had now disappeared from view, probably somewhere on this descent obscurred from our view my ridges and undulations. After a brief detour we got our navigational heads on and tracked back to stick close to the on-off trail alongside the fast-falling waters of Sail beck. Though only about twenty miles in this kind of descent was feeling hard on the quads and knees as they were forced to break momentum skipping over large rocks that halted the flow of the trail.

Across the River Liza, passed the remote Black Sail hut YHA and it was up again. Seemingly our first double whammy of big climbs in a single stage. Through Scarth Gap at the top and we emerged onto whatbvthe raod book describes as "very rocky, rocky, cairned path". Any doubling of a word like rocky - or steep - in this book means not to be taken lightly. The descent went on for what felt like miles of picking our way through jagged, loose, large rocks contouring around High Crag down towards Buttermere. Again we navigated better than some as we saw lights well down below who had dropped too far too early and had to run a path along a river bank. We joined this large group at the true bottom of the descent. The relief was not exaggerated as we finally got to Buttermere Village hall CP via a forested lakeside path. I reckon this section would have been stunning in daylight and must revisit the past two valleys north of Wasdale.

TBC.....