OMG Orrell 12hr Ultra 2013

Impressive Toilets and the Search for the World’s Ugliest Woman

A wise man once told me the world’s ugliest women can be found in Wigan. As I wasn’t qualified to affirm or refute this statement it was with understandable trepidation I travelled to compete in The Orrell OMG 12hr Ultra on December 29^th.

The event was a relatively late inclusion in the race calendar and was an unusual date to hold a 12hr race.  However it suited me perfectly and gave many people an ideal excuse to escape their families for an entire day during the Christmas period. Although the event was at the arse end of 2013 I approached it the first event of 2014 and was motivated primarily by the prospect of racing the Spartathlon in September. I’d already reached the qualifying standard so my acceptance was dependent on entering fast enough once registration went live.

The Robin Hood: nice toilets. 

The race format was very simple: the route was a 1.19 mile anti-clockwise circuit around the roads of Orrell and the idea was to cover as many laps as possible in 12 hours, starting at 9am. The only time I’d previously completed a 12 hour race was at the 2012 Hell on the Humber night race which had consisted of numerous out-and-backs across the Humber Bridge. I ran 72 miles in that event so was determined to go further but didn’t really know what shape I was in. After a lacklustre performance at the Sri Chinmoy 24hr track race in September I’d done lower mileage but had completed most sessions on flat routes at a faster pace. Fartlek and progression runs had been my staple training program for the previous two months so I felt relatively fresh and relaxed.

Getting ready (Photo Orrell OMG).

After a quick course briefing at the Robin Hood pub HQ (which mainly involved the need to keep turning left) all runners were ready for the off, some keen and others clearly not so keen. The event was designed to help Team True Spirit raise funds for injured servicemen and there was a distinct military feel to the event – some of the injured servicemen were competing and it makes you appreciate having two fully functioning legs that some mad, bearded fucker hasn’t blown off.

Topography for each lap (Photo Orrell OMG).

We set off and immediately there was a predictable variety of pacing strategies being used. As there was also a relay event running in tandem it was impossible to know who was doing what so I spent the first few laps relaxing and enjoying the simple fact I was racing. The route was deceptively undulating. The first half was predominantly downhill and there was then a subtle climb around the back of the course until it descended back to the finish. Once we returned to the Robin Hood we entered the car park via the timing mats, passed the aid station and then continued back onto the course for another lap. The route appeared fairly boring on paper but compared to a 24hr track race it was like running naked through a fairground on acid.

I had no pacing strategy, wasn’t using heart rate and didn’t have any idea how many laps I had done. I find that during ultras the best thing is to switch off all distraction and become as relaxed and focused as possible. Because I can feel superhuman one minute and close to tears the next it’s usually more productive (and easier) if I run as I feel at the time.

Aid station in Robin Hood car park (Photo Orrell OMG).

During the first couple of hours I began lapping a few people and was also passed a few times myself. The aid station was filled with everything I needed but as I felt good I ate and drank almost nothing during this time. I’d done all my long training runs without breakfast, didn’t take any nutrition or fluids and consequently I wasn’t remotely hungry or thirsty at any point during the race.

The forecast had been for a bright, dry day with light winds. I previously had visions of us trudging away though ice and slush in howling winds so I think everyone was relieved when the sun made an appearance. The conditions were perfect and the only part of the course which felt remotely cold was near the finish as we climbed into a slight headwind. The cold weather was playing havoc with my bladder and I found myself visiting the Robin Hood toilets every few laps during the first few hours. The pub was temptingly warm and cosy and I can highly recommend the toilets: very clean, warm and well presented. 

Onwards and upwards (Photo Orrell OMG).

It makes sense to mentally separate events into several sections and the Orrell OMG was no exception. I had a very simple plan which evolved slightly during the first couple of hours:

• For the first 1-6 hrs I was going to snack and drink as appropriate, switch my mind off, stay relaxed and tick off the laps as consistently as possible

• During hours 6-10 I was to maintain the consistency and begin using caffeine

• For the final 10-12 hrs the plan was to maintain all off the above, switch the brain on, concentrate and be prepared to suffer

To break up the monotony I also planned a couple of morale boosters during the last few hours:

• At 10.5 hrs I was going to order a pint of real ale from the Robin Hood

• At 11 hrs I had a pair of lightweight shoes to change into

The morale boosters might appear trivial or pointless but it’s surprising how looking forward to an apparently simple occasion can make several hours pass much faster.

As we entered the middle third of the race I began to be more aware of how I felt which is always an ominous development. I expect to have good and bad patches in any race and it’s not uncommon to spend several hours struggling, only to feel stronger than ever in the last quarter of a race. It’s usually more psychological than physical - you’ve covered a long way and you’re not even half way into the race - but I was hoping I would have covered more miles before having to deal with it. There was a brief distraction from the discomfort as runners from the shorter events joined us. There was a 10k, half marathon and marathon starting at various times and I was quite envious as the 10k runners completed their event in the apparent blink of an eye, to then disappear into the warm pub for a Sunday lunch.

As the morning progressed people began emerging from their houses but seemed thankfully indifferent to what we were doing. New runners joined the course as relay team members swapped places, some jogging while others flew past. Many runners seemed to know each other and the event was becoming a very sociable day. I was happily doing my own thing, sticking to my plan and had absolutely no idea how well I was doing.

Map of the course: arrow indicates the Robin Hood (Photo Orrell OMG).

The undulating nature of the course was proving to be very advantageous as it constantly provided a subtle change in muscle recruitment. I find running long distances on the flat harder to maintain than if I’m constantly climbing and descending and the frequent change in gradient was something I really appreciated throughout the event.

At halfway I began using Coke and opened a can of Relentless. I was now in the routine of running three laps and then having a drink, picking a handful of food and then continuing to run as I ate. I’d brought my own supplies so – combined with the nutrition at the aid station - had the choice of gels, cake, chocolate, crisps and fruit salad.

The middle third of the race continued without any drama until I began to feel a hotspot under the ball of my right foot which, considering I’d covered my feet in Vasaline before the event, was a very unwelcome surprise. I usually find hotspots develop into blisters very quickly and the subsequent miles become exponentially harder as a result. To delay the inevitable I stopped for the first time in the race, re-applied the Vasaline and changed socks.

The course became busier as the day progressed. People I’d seen leaving the house in the morning were returning home and we seemed to be trapped in our own time zone as real life passed us by. The only person who seemed remotely interested in us was a dishevelled old man who seemed blissfully confused and happy to talk to anyone at all.

As we entered the final third of the race I began to feel stronger and less aware of the fatigue I was feeling, possibly due to the caffeine and definitely because I knew the majority of the race had been cracked. Another bonus was that for some inexplicable reason the hotspot had settled down so previous thoughts of walking had disappeared and I was now completely focussed on running as hard as I could for the remaining four hours. I still didn’t know my position but was aware that I was gaining places as the miles passed - many people were by now walking and those who were passing me were clearly relay runners.

As darkness arrived we donned our high-viz vests and continued our journey under the streetlights. The temperature had dropped slightly so I added another layer and the routine of running three laps and then fuelling continued without incident. My pace was consistent, I felt great and seemed to be gaining more energy the further I ran. Visits to the toilet were becoming progressively more enjoyable as they provided a brief sanctuary from the cold. The problem was that it was full of people looking very warm and comfortable, all tucking into hot food with a pint of beer.

 The show goes on under the street lights (Photo Orrell OMG).

My first morale booster was scheduled for 10.5hrs into the race and the laps flew by as beer o’clock approached. The aid station volunteers had been very helpful all day so I gave them a fiver, completed another lap and returned to a pint and a half of real ale waiting for me. Whatever anyone ever recommends you to hydrate with is all lies. Nothing refreshes you physically or mentally as effectively as a good beer. Everything immediately felt easier and I stopped for a few gulps every couple of laps for the remainder of the race.

As the race approached the last hour there seemed to be increasingly fewer people on the course. Many people had pulled out but most appeared to have stayed to watch friends still running and the finish area was increasingly lively compared to the rest of the course. My foot was still sore but I’d still somehow managed to avoid blisters developing. The plan was to still swap shoes for the final hour so I stopped for the second time to change into a pair of Saucony Kinvara. They were noticeably lighter but within a minute of running the hotspot suddenly filled with fluid and burst. Hurty feet always guarantee a certain amount of unrelenting misery but as I had less than an hour to run the endorphins, caffeine and alcohol were successfully managing to numb the pain.

It was around this time I first realised where I was in the race. “You’re in second, he’s only just in front”. I didn’t know who it was at first but eventually realised it was Chris Collins, a runner who’d blasted the early miles and I’d previously assumed was a relay runner. He must have slowed considerably later in the race, only to recover to run strongly again in the final hours. I ran the last few laps as quickly as possible to reel Chris in but never saw him at all in the distance. My legs felt surprisingly strong and for the first time during an ultra I felt it was my leg speed and running efficiency which was holding me back rather than fatigue.

Time for a sit down: with Paul at the finish (Photo Orrell OMG).

As I approached 9pm I completed a lap with a few minutes to spare which meant I could continue around once more, the pace being irrelevant for the final lap.  I relaxed and enjoyed my final run around the streets of Orrell, and passed the bewildered old man for the very last time.

Race details here: http://theorrellomg.co.uk/
Team True Spirit details here: http://www.truespirit.org.uk/

Reflection

I’d felt very strong in the final hours of the race and was pleased with the way my body had reacted during and after the event. I eventually covered 80 miles which a PB and was particularly satisfying, especially when the time of year was taken into consideration. I’d taken on fewer calories than expected so the sessions during the previous months designed to improve fat burning efficiency had clearly been effective.

More importantly I ever saw any particularly ugly women during my 12 hours in Wigan, and the ones involved in the race all seemed very nice. Runcorn, on the other hand, is a very different story…

Recovery drinks my arse: what everyone should eat after an ultra...

Kit Review

Saucony Mirage.

Changing to a lighter shoe was a good idea and the Saucony Mirage is a great lightweight shoe that still offers medial support. The 4mm heel drop allows for a smooth, rolling foot strike and for shorter events it would be ideal.

Because it has a relatively firm, responsive midsole it was very unforgiving on hotspots after eleven hours of running so in hindsight I would have used a Brooks Pure Cadence which is softer underfoot.

Salomon Exo Motion baselayer.

As the weather was cold(ish) but dry I used a very basic layering system. I wanted all skin covered and all materials had to be warm against the skin. I didn’t need anything too warm or waterproof. The Salomon long-sleeved Exo Motion top is a fantastic baselayer which is unbelievably stretchy and well fitting. Because it has a woollen feel it doesn’t feel cold against the skin like many other items with a higher Lycra content and was perfect for a December event.

Salomon Fast Wing Vest.

I wore a Salomon Fast Wing gillet as a windproof layer on my torso and it was just thick enough to prevent me feeling any wind chill during the race. If it was any windier I might have used something with a Windstopper front panel.

Salomon Momentum tights.

To avoid having cold, Lycra fabric on my legs I chose my Salomon Momentum II tights. They’re relatively thin and light but have a brushed internal surface which felt warm from the outset. They would be slightly too warm for a spring/autumn event but were perfect for running in December. 

All Salomon and Saucony products were supplied by Royles: royles.biz

Sri Chinmoy Self Transcendence 24hr Race 2013

Colonial Upstarts, Bonsai Trees and a Strange Man Punching a Tree

As this was my third year at the Sri Chinmoy Self Transcendence 24 hour race, I decided it was to be a boy’s road trip packed with ultrarunning-related japes and hilarity. Carla - my previous support - had conveniently arranged a hen do in Barcelona that weekend and everyone else in the western world was apparently busy. I was therefore reliant on a crack team of two 24 hour virgins to provide the entertainment: Chris, an Ironman athlete dreaming of past Kona glories, and Dan, a strange troll-like creature who I’d somehow convinced to enter the event.

 

It's Friday night, it's a road trip, let's crank it up to 11!

 

The plan was to travel down with Chris - and his daughter, Arabella - on Friday evening and meet up with Dan on race morning. Amazingly, Chris had managed to dress himself properly and was unusually ready on time, and after a surprisingly small amount of faffing the road trip began. As everyone knows the most important element of any road trip is a  rocking soundtrack, the sort of thing Jeremy Clarkson would listen to. Unfortunately I have great taste in music and Chris doesn’t so a middle ground couldn’t be agreed on. We consequently travelled to London listening to Radio 4.

 

The next morning after fuelling our bodies with a wholesome and nutritious McDonalds breakfast, we travelled to the race venue at Tooting Bec track. We picked Dan up en-route managing to take a few wrong turns, nearly causing a pile up and promptly losing him just outside the track, all within ten minutes.

Pre-race flex off: who needs calf muscles anyway?

 

The venue was instantly familiar except it resembled a building site along the back straight. We chose a pitch at the far end and this was to be our home for the next couple of days. Once I’d registered, set up my support area and Chris had erected the tent Dan eventually arrived. How the man gets himself to work every morning I’ll never know.

 

The relaxed atmosphere before an ultra is something I’ve grown to really enjoy over the last couple of years. Chris was struggling to adjust as he was used to the adrenaline and testosterone fuelled nature of a transition area before the start of an Ironman. I’ve found I don’t need that intensity or stress anymore and relish the change of environment.

Ladies, form an orderly queue...

 

In between incomprehensible monologues, Alan Partridge quotes and obsessive texting, Dan somehow managed to get himself ready with the help of his assistant, Lynne. We were sharing the same table and chairs and it was soon apparent I didn’t have as much food or drink with me as usual. Because the food provided by the organisers is so comprehensive and varied I found I took most of my supplies home with me the previous two years.

 

The weather was perfect and spirits were high as we lined up to start at midday. My race plan was very simple and there was a tier system of goals:

Gold: run 135+ miles

Silver: beat my previous distance of 127 miles

Bronze: achieve the Spartathlon standard of 200km (124 miles)

 Chris realises what he's missing.

Hours 1-4 (Clockwise)

After blowing up at the Lakeland 100 I was conscious of not repeating the gamble. I was also aware that I needed to reach 100 miles well under 18 hours to have any chance of reaching 135 miles. I decided to run the first hour and then follow a routine of running 7 laps and walking 1 lap for as long as possible. This was one extra lap of running than the previous year.

 

I didn’t want to get distracted by splits and measurements as there was a long way to go and energy levels can fluctuate wildly during an ultra. Dan was chirpy and continuing to talk shite, and Chris insulted us every time we passed him so things were looking good.

 

As usual I was being lapped from the start but I wasn’t remotely bothered. I knew several people would withdraw or self-destruct later in the race so I remained relaxed and ticked the early hours by. Chris soon left to visit the zoo and after around two hours Dan’s Alan Partridge quotes had virtually ceased. The novelty of the event had worn off and we were all resigned to the reality that we would be running around the same track for a whole day and night with very little to look forward to.

 

Hours 5-8 (Anti clockwise)

After a week of poor weather it was a huge relief to have such perfect conditions forecasted. The day was slightly overcast with a light breeze but I was happily running with short sleeves and a gillet.

Picnic table - spot the Moshlings!

 

The early hours were fairly uneventful. There were still several people lapping me at a decent pace and most people were engaged in conversation as they ran. There were some strong Scottish runners competing and they’d brought an energetic group of supporters with them which was a welcome distraction.

 

During quieter times I found myself focussing on anything different and exciting outside the venue. I became a master at this the previous year but soon realised that this year there was very few little activity around us apart from the occasional siren as an emergency vehicle sped past.

 

Every four hours we were to change direction. My plan was to alternate my shoes at this time throughout the race to provide some variety and hopefully prevent injury and blistering. I switched from my Saucony Omni to Adrenaline GTS and the difference couldn’t have been more stark: the Adrenalines felt really hard underfoot and I was in two minds whether to change straight back. I’m very conscious of hot spots developing as they soon become blisters – until people experience them they can’t appreciate how crippling they become.

 

I went through the first marathon in under 4:15 which was quite a conservative pace. It felt very comfortable and I was still conscious of pacing the event sensibly. I was halfway down the field which was slightly better than previous years and as the hours passed I began to creep my way up the leaderboard.

 

Excitement was eventually provided as I heard some noise in the trees adjacent to the back straight. At first I couldn’t work out what was happening but after a few laps I realised what the noise was - a man was in the middle of the wood repeatedly and enthusiastically punching a tree.

Awesome lapcounters working through the night (Photo Run and Become). 

 

As the light began to fade the floodlights were switch on and I had the first of several hot meals. I only ate small amounts but wanted to avoid sweets and cakes as much as possible. The volunteers were as helpful as always and any request was happily answered. Chris eventually returned from the zoo to resume the insults and he’d also brought some beers with him which put a brief spring in my step. By now Dan wasn’t providing any entertainment whatsoever and had disappointingly transformed into Mr Seriousultrarunner. 

 

Hours 9-12 (Clockwise)

As darkness fell some supporters left and the place became noticeably quieter. We’d also lost a couple of runners through retirement and Treepunchingman had also gone home (or gone to find some different trees to hit). I changed back to my Omnis and couldn’t believe how softer they felt underfoot. The weather was still perfect – spectators were wrapping up but the temperature was ideal for running. I’d brought loads of clothing options with me in case it rained but all I needed was my arm warmers.

The 24hr buffet (Photo Run and Become).

 

One or two people were paying the price for starting too fast and one runner was throwing up so violently I could hear him from the other side of the track. Amazingly, after emptying his stomach he continued running as if nothing had happened.

 

Scotsman Marco Consani was flying around with great consistency as were the two lead women. I’d raced Helen James a couple of times before but didn’t know Fiona Cameron, also from Scotland. She was on schedule for an outstanding performance but the race was still in the early stages.

There were a few spare seats left for spectators (Photo Run and Become).

 

As it approaches midnight the body inevitably begins to tire as it expects you to be sleeping. There’s also the fact that you’ve still not reached half way and the finish seems a long, long way away. Despite this for some reason I started to feel stronger and decided to increase my running to 8 laps run, 1 lap walk. 

 

Chris stayed up to insult me for a final couple of hours while sitting there drinking beer. Sometimes he gave me the finger, sometimes two fingers and occasionally had the creativity to use a combination of the two. He eventually disappered into the tent mumbling that he'd had enough of  watching skinny old men shuffling around a track.

 

The runner with the vomiting issues was still running well despite more violent episodes. It was proper vomiting too, the type that takes your breath away and makes your eyeballs stick out.  If I’m sick I think I’m going to die and need to lie down in a dark room - how he was able to continue is beyond me.

 

During the evening a familiar race appeared. I’d raced Chris Ette at the Lanzarote Double Enduroman a couple of years earlier and then duelled with him at the UK Triple Enduroman a few months later. He’d eventually won and I was second. He’d come to watch the race for a few hours and seemed to know the Scottish contingent – the world of ultra-endurance sport is a very small one!

 

 

Perfect running conditions during the night (Photo Run and Become).

 

Hours 13-16 (Anti clockwise)

The halfway point is always a positive time in a race, and after 12 hours it’s particularly welcome. I was maintaining the 8/1 ratio and managed to gain several places during the early hours, entering the top ten overall.

 

There were more people walking by now and several people appeared to have injury/motivation/happiness issues as the fatigue increased. Most supporters had retired to bed and runners were largely reliant on the volunteers.  The conditions were still ideal and at times there was a full moon so I was still using some electrolyte drink with the occasional sweet tea. The hot snacks kept arriving and the 24 hour buffet saw no signs of slowing down.

 

My feet still felt ok but I made the point to stop and change my socks and reapply Vaseline to my feet. Losing five minutes could prevent losing considerably more time later on and I was prone to blistering beneath the balls of both feet.

Leader board in the early hours (Photo Run and Become).

 

Hours 17-20 (Clockwise)

I continued to feel strong as dawn approached but the two lead women were still in front which was unusual. Fiona and Helen were still several miles ahead and didn’t appear to be slowing. Helen’s tactic had been the same the previous year and had resulted in her slowing during the later stages. She was obviously stronger this year and I wasn’t making and progress on either of them.

 

Dan was beginning to have problems with his hip and was also suffering from Facebook withdrawal symptoms. Spirits were lifted when breakfast arrived and then Chris surfaced from his tent so the insults duly recommenced for the final few hours.

 

I eventually reached 100 miles in 18:06 which was quite a blow. It was quicker than previous years and I was running well but realised it was impossible to reach my goal in the remaining hours. On a positive note I’d gained another couple of places which was some consolation, but my motivation had taken a huge hit. I still had six hours of running left knowing I’d failed my objective.

 

Hugh Pinner – who I’d raced with the previous two years – was having stomach issues and we found ourselves walking together. He mentioned that the race was also the English Ultra Champs and that there was a good chance I was in contention. I remembered reading about it in the pre-race information but hadn’t given it any more thought. He kindly went to make some enquiries and established I was in third place as the others ahead of me were either female, Irish or Scottish. I was steadily catching the two ahead so I now had another reason to keep the pressure on myself.

Who's idea was this? Dan holds back the tears.
 

 

By now most people were finding it difficult and this is when the event really begins to test people. Track racing is completely raw with no fluff or distraction. There are no hills to crest, lakes to pass or pretty villages to pass though. It’s 24 hours of monotony with nothing to take your mind away from the increasing discomfort and pain.

 

I reduced my running back to running 7 laps and walking a lap and hoped I’d be able to maintain it to the finish. With around five hours to go I was up to fourth overall and was leading the English competition. This was because others were slowing (or stopping for breaks) whereas I was maintaining a consistent – if unimpressive - pace. 7 laps became 6 laps and I eventually settled on 4 laps and then a walk.

Holding on to fourth with hurty legs (Photo Run and Become).

 

Around this time I made a pact with myself that I wouldn’t do another ultra again. The pain was entirely self-inflicted and completely unnecessary. I was actually planning what I’d do with my newly aquired free time – I went through a series of crap sports and hobbies and even decided to buy a bonsai tree at one point.  

 

Dan had seen the physio who’d recommended he withdraw but he was running well, only interrupting his progress by repeatedly stopping to satisfy his Crackberry habit. I wanted him to put the phone down and get back on the track so tried my best to encourage him;

“Dan, start running!”

“Fuck off. Unlike you I’ve got friends!”

 

Hours 21-24 (Anti clockwise)

By now I wasn’t in the most positive place I’ve ever been. I’d failed my objective and wasn’t sure if I’d even achieve the Spartathlon standard of 200km. A couple of times I actually sat down for a minute which is something I almost never do unless I’m tending to my feet. Dan, Chris and I briefly discussed the merits of what we were doing and I was struggling to think of any positives. It was mental weakness, nothing else. Chris even stopped taking the piss for a few minutes so I must have looked bad. 

"So there's this place near me which sells bonsai trees..."

I was eventually kicked back into focus when I realised a couple of Englishmen were gradually catching me, and unless I strapped a pair of balls on I would go home with nothing. I stepped up the pace to make the best of the situation and began to get my legs back. I was prepared to try anything to make the last couple of hours as pain free as possible – I’d had an impressive amount of Ibuprofen up to that point so thought I’d try a beer. It would either go horribly wrong or make me invincible, only time would tell. I felt like a Yates' Wine Lodge regular sat there all smelly and dishevelled drinking Peroni at 10am but it was surprisingly enjoyable and went down very well.

 

I’m not sure if the Peroni had any effect other than boosting morale but I started running more consistently. I was aware of who the others were and where we all were relative to each other. I knew when they were walking or running and I was counting how many times I was being lapped. Because I was 2-3 miles in front I knew that I they would have to lap me 10-12 times per hour to pass me. Unless I imploded this was impossible so I just had to keep going. I passed 200km with around 30 minutes to go (as I had the previous year) so beating 127 miles was possible if I pushed as hard as possible.

 

Both the lead women had slowed and I had almost caught Helen but it was too late. The rest of the field were split between people finishing strongly and those  resigned to walking.  The runner who had spent an impossible amount of time vomiting during the race was having one last heave for the road, and I’m surprised if he had any stomach lining left by the end.

 Immediately after finishing. Never again etc etc.

Chris helpfully pointed out it wasn’t a race-walking event and the last few laps were a blur as I dragged myself around the track as many times as possible before the finishing horn sounded. I didn’t know exactly how far I’d run and didn’t want to know. I gave it everything until the horn signalled everyone to stop and then immediately collapsed onto the grass. Afterwards Chris said it looked like all the competitors had been simultaneously shot by snipers.

Reflection
 

Expecting to be rumbled at the English Champs presentation (Photo Run and Become).

I eventually covered 127 miles, exactly the same distance as 2012. My major objective wasn’t achieved so my performance was insufficient. Winning the England Athletics Ultra Champs was a happy surprise but I knew some of the strongest runners were in Athens preparing for the Spartahlon. Still, it’s nice to win and I’m not giving the medal back.

 

I should have reached 100 miles in a faster time and I was left with too much to do in the last few hours. I was also slower in the last 27 miles than the previous year and this was due to lack of mental focus and positivity after reaching 100 miles behind schedule. I was also able to walk, talk and function after the race which has never happened before – another indicator that I hadn’t given it 100%. This race is more mental than physical and I’d been rightly exposed.

 

Both the Scottish winners had achieved the British team standard for 24 hours which was awesome, and Marco achieved the third fastest ever Scottish distance behind the legendary Don Ritchie. Geoff Oliver also covered 94 miles breaking the world 80+ yrs world record. He also broke every intermediate world record except 100km en route. Top bombing.

 

Shankara and her team had provided yet another flawless and friendly race and it couldn’t happen without the lap counters and aid station volunteers.

 

The next morning after an uncomfortable night’s sleep I was predictably incapacitated and still in a huge amount of discomfort. I was also surprisingly excited about entering Spartathlon 2014 and the retirement plans I’d made during the race seemed a very long time ago. Bollocks to normal life and bollocks to bonsai trees.

Race details here: http://run.runandbecome.com/london-running-news/self-transcendence-24hr-race-2013/

Race results here: http://run.runandbecome.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/24-Hour-Results-2013.pdf

England Athletics report here: http://www.englandathletics.org/news.asp?itemid=12118&itemTitle=Thomas+And+James+take+England+Athletics+Ultra+Distance+Championships&section=42&sectionTitle=England+Athletics+News

Kit Review

Skins A400 shorts.

Because the weather was so consistent I didn’t change clothes during the event. I used Skins A400 compression shorts as they’re very comfortable and great at preventing chaffing. I can’t get away with loose shorts for long distances and I've used these shorts several times without any problems.

 

The A400 calf guards are tried and tested from previous events and also acted as an insulating layer during the night.

Salomon Fast Wing Vest

The Salomon Fast Wing Vest is light and very breathable and I used it to reduce the effects of wind chill from the breeze. I didn’t overheat during the day and it was perfect as a light insulating layer during the night.

 

Saucony Omnis.

I’m now a convert to the Saucony Omnis. I previously used the Hurricane but the cheaper Omni felt just as cushioned and comfortable. The 8mm heel and slight rocker in the midsole allows for a very smooth, rolling foot strike and they were very comfortable, even towards the end of the race.

 

 

All Salomon, Saucony and Skins products were supplied by Royles: royles.biz