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

Malvern Hills 52 Mile Ultra 2013

Deliverance, Doppelgangers and Demoralising Detours

By May last year I’d completed two 100 mile events and went on to have a satisfactory year in subsequent ultras, including the Lakeland 100, Hell on the Humber 12 hour and the Self Transcendence 24 hour. However, my feeling at the end of the season had been that I should have raced less over longer distances and improved my speed over shorter distances with more recovery between events.

With that in mind the only event I’d entered in 2013 before the Lakeland 100 was the Malvern Hills Ultra 52 mile event. I was using it in exactly the same way a marathon runner would target a half marathon a few weeks before his main event. The faster you can run half the distance, the faster you should be able to run the full distance so the principle was the same. Training had also reflected this as I’d done much less long runs but had increased the amount I spent running at faster speeds.

Race morning began with a very early start, and it was straight to breakfast. A quick recce of the area the previous evening had revealed a McDonalds about a mile away which opened at 5:30am. After a quick feast on a double sausage and egg muffin meal (large of course), porridge and pancakes it was a short drive to the race venue.

Double yum.

Race registration was relaxed even by ultrarunning standards. It was also very grand as the event was based at Holt Castle, a 13^th century building hidden from the surrounding roads. There were several route options up to miles up to 82 miles and relay teams were also running as well, so there were loads of people milling around, chatting and making last minute preparations. The only person I recognised was Daryl Carter who had won the same event the previous year. I’d previously met him at the Double Enduroman in Lanzarote a couple of years earlier where he’d been flying until stomach issues had forced his retirement.

At 7am we all made our way to the start and set off. The course was basically out-and-back from Holt Castle heading southwards, then joining the Worcestershire Way and eventually reaching the Malvern Hills. At the halfway point we were to turn around and retrace our steps back to Holt Castle. The route appeared to be approximately 30% road and 70% trail with the hillier parts at the southern end of the course. The early miles were mainly on road and fairly flat so I made good progress as the field gradually strung out.

Course profile.

The weather forecast was for a warm and sunny day but for the first few miles it was grey and drizzly, although an ideal temperature for running. It felt great to be racing again, and I was really looking forward to the race unfolding. As there was still the odd person visible ahead navigation wasn’t an issue for the early miles and I relaxed and enjoyed the simplicity of the event.

The only thing to remember in the early miles was to mark my dibber at the unmanned checkpoints. There were four of them on the parts of the course where short cuts were possible and we had been told that missing one would add ten minutes onto our finishing times.

One of the unmanned checkpoints (Photo Summit Fever).

We soon reached CP1, one of five manned checkpoints along the route. There was a great selection of food and drink available which was a bonus as I was running with very little on me and was relying on using the nutrition from the aid stations. I’d lost a considerable amount of time at the Lakeland 100 aid stations and was trialling a new routine to speed the process up for future races. Instead of using the usual hydration bladder I was experimenting with water bottles on the front of a hydration vest. This negated the need to remove a backpack to fiddle around to access the bladder when refilling was required. I also had a waterproof plastic bag secured at the top of one of my calf guards. Once I’d partially filled a water bottle I would fill the bag with a few snacks and continue running, eating as I moved. It went smoothly and in a very short time I was on my way to CP2.

Running on a flatter road section (Photo Summit Fever).

The terrain was similar to the first leg but we soon began to hit more trails as we eventually joined the Worcestershire Way. There were now small signs to follow but it wasn’t fool proof. I’d found myself running with another couple of runners and there were a few instances of arriving at a junction or split in the trail with no signs visible anywhere. We had a few Chinese parliaments while we debated the options and it was a runner with the route programmed onto his Garmin who we decided was the most trustworthy. I had photocopied and laminated route cards which were clear enough to see most features but as they were in black and white it was hard to distinguish the finer details which obviously caused problems with micro-navigation. Just because we were moving south didn’t necessarily mean we were on the right path.

Route cards: colour versions would have been a better option.

I eventually realised one of the competitors I was running with was also called Nick Thomas. We were similar ages, skinny, both triathletes and also racing the Lakeland 100 so no doubt we were causing some race organisers a considerable amount of confusion.

The terrain gradually became more challenging as we began to hit steep climbs and quad-busting descents. They were a mixture of scenic trails through woods and roads linking the off-road sections and the increase in difficulty had completely split the field. My routine was to run every section unless it was quicker to walk: Nick Thomas #2 chose to run even the steepest climbs but I saw little point if I was walking at exactly the same pace.

We eventually reached CP2 and repeated the same routine as CP1. The sun was now shining so I drank a few cups of water at the aid station so I wouldn’t have to carry as much with me. I picked some random sweets and chocolates to fill my bag and that was me done. The other two runners were equally quick and within about a minute or two we were on our way again.

The weather improved as the day progressed.

During the next few miles I occasionally caught a glimpse of the Malvern Hills when we were on the higher ground, each time getting slightly closer (and bigger). By now I was only running with Nick Thomas #2, the other runner having dropped back during a hillier section. We eventually reached the lower slopes of North Hill and caught a group of four runners who had obviously slowed down. Again it was unclear whether they were solo or relay runners, but we all had a very brief chat before the climbing began.

From a distance the hills had looked very remote and almost volcanic but the northern slopes were disappointingly built up and suburban. We spent the first half of the climb walking up steps and winding our way up the hill on road before making a left turn onto the hills proper. We were now above the built up area so the surrounding countryside increasingly came into view and as we were more exposed the wind became more noticeable.

The clouds began to clear and the sun eventually emerged (Photo Summit Fever).

We dropped the other runners but ended up running back into one of them on North Hill as we’d taken an unnecessary trip to the summit: something which happens when you confuse north with south. Two became three and we ran together to the third unmanned checkpoint on North Hill. Runner number three turned out to be part of the RAF ultrarunning team and was completing the event with a number of teammates. Once we were on the higher ground the route became undulating as opposed to hilly so we made good progress as we ran south along the ridge.

The steepest climb came as we approached Summer Hill and I thought the terrain and features were very reminiscent of the Brecon Beacons. Once we reached the summit we were rewarded with a fantastic view to our left. Visibility was very good so we could see for miles and below us we were almost looking directly down on Great Malvern – it was like looking at Google Earth. After checking in at the fourth unmanned checkpoint on the summit we began the gradual descent down to CP3 at Little Malvern. It was along this stretch that we saw Daryl on his way back and then saw a second then third runner. I knew we were in the top ten but wasn’t sure exactly how many runners were ahead. We eventually descended below the treeline and soon arrived at CP3, the halfway point of the race.

There were a few relay runners there waiting for their teammates and one or two solo runners having a break, one appearing to be have problems with his feet. Both Nick Thomas #2 and I were determined to continue with the fast turnarounds so we repeated the previous drill and were quickly on our way. I didn’t check my watch as the time was irrelevant on such a challenging course, but I felt good and was confident I could maintain the same pace on the return leg.

The weather was perfect for a day on the trails.

Running downhill inevitably means running uphill at some point and we immediately became climbing northwards. By now the weather was perfect and as it was now mid-morning the hills were getting busier with groups of walkers and ice cream lickers, some of whom insisted on walking five abreast so nobody could get past. We began seeing more runners coming towards us as they approached the turnaround, some looking in good spirits and others appearing that they might have set off too fast.

Running the course in reverse was predictably familiar but as we descended from the ridge line back through the residential area it became apparent that we’d followed a completely different route. We’d ended up at the correct junction but from a different direction. It was positive in the sense that we were going the right way but also highlighted that much of the course was very familiar and it would be even easier to make mistakes as we returned through the trickier sections later on.

During the approach to CP4 I began to drop Nick Thomas #2. Whether it was I was having a sudden surge of energy or because he was slowing I wasn’t sure but I was keen to make good progress when I felt good. I had a quick chat with the volunteers, drank four cups of Coke, grabbed a few treats and was off. The climbs were predictably short and steep but there were regular landmarks I remembered from earlier in the day. Much of the route was now along wooded trails and as there was seemingly nobody anywhere near me it felt like I was on one of my solo training runs. I never get lonely training alone and felt completely at peace and very lucky being able to run for miles on end on a fantastic summer’s day.

The peace didn’t last for long however. The first problem I encountered was at the top of a steep climb to Ankerdine. The photocopied map wasn’t clear and I found myself running along a road I gradually realised I didn’t remember. My shadow on the road indicated I was still running in the right direction but I wasn’t convinced. I stopped to check the map a couple of times, but there were no road signs and nobody around to ask. I eventually decided to retrace my steps and came across a series of ramshackle buildings set back from the road at the end of a dirt track. I ran down the track and saw two haggard, dishevelled and bearded men who looked like they’d never ventured beyond the end of the dirt track. It was like running into the movie Deliverance and I expected to hear the twangs of a banjo being played at any second. They were actually very helpful and soon established that I was on the right road but again, I’d somehow arrived there via a different route.

I continued along the same road again and before long it became familiar. After a brief diversion through a farm as I left the Worcestershire Way, I reached the final check point in Martley. I was feeling more tired now and the ladies at the aid station seemed slightly concerned as my legs had a slight wobble as I checked in. They fussed over me as I finished a couple of Cokes and helpfully topped my water bottle up before sending me on my way. 

The jacket wasn't required on the way back to Holt Castle (Photo Summit Fever).

It was now mid-afternoon and the temperature was now at the warmest it had been all day. I felt good as I began the final stretch and was buoyed by the fact that the route was simple to navigate and relatively flat for the final few miles. The positive attitude began to fade several minutes later as I began to get a (too) familiar feeling. The farm buildings on my left weren’t on the route map so there was something clearly wrong. There was an obvious reason for this and that was that I’d missed a right turn and was continuing northwards. I didn’t want to believe it but knew I had to establish my exact location. I called in at the first farm but there was no reply (or they had a look at the visitor and decided not to answer) so I continued to the next one. I knocked on the kitchen door and immediately a woman appeared who amazingly opened the door to me. I don’t think she was expecting any visitors, and especially not someone clad in Lycra and caked in dried sweat and dribble.

She quickly confirmed my suspicion: I’d missed the turning and now had to continue for half a mile before turning right and eventually rejoining the route. I was annoyed but the release of adrenaline increased my pace as I tried to minimise the damage done - I knew I was in the top five and really didn’t want to lose any places before the finish. It’s amazing how a small drama can switch the mind and body back on in an instant.

As I eventually rejoined the course I looked right to see a group of four runners heading towards me, not far behind. There were around four miles to go and they were looking strong (possibly because they’d seen me) so I increased my pace slightly and pushed on, hoping I’d drop them. They gradually came within a few metres of me as we entered the final woods but after a hard surge up a climb two of them quickly dropped back. As the remaining two caught me I realised they were relay runners so I calmed down. As long as I maintained the best pace I could I would hold my position as I couldn’t see anyone ahead and there was no chance I would be caught by anyone behind. We took turns to push the pace and after a bizarre detour through someone’s back garden found ourselves running towards Holt Castle. After a few more surges and an agonising last mile I finally turned into the castle grounds, crossed the finish line and finally found the nearest patch of grass to collapse on. Daryl was standing there looking annoyingly fresh and high-spirited and clearly took pity on the heap in front of him, kindly bringing me a drink.

Sitting down at last!

The hospitality I’d enjoyed throughout the race continued as we were provided with hot food and numerous snacks and drinks at the finish. There was a very friendly and relaxed atmosphere as relay teams and families sat around the grounds under the sun all reliving the day’s adventure, and each remaining finisher was welcomed in turn back to the finish.

Reflection

I ended up finishing fifth which means I didn’t get passed during my detour after the last check point. If I’d gone the right way I might have gained a place or two but that’s irrelevant speculation. The aim of the race was to act as an early season leg stretch to give me an indication of where my training was heading. I ran consistently throughout and finished strongly, and the next day I was walking down the stairs as normal. The longest run I’d done in preparation had been 3.5 hours but at a faster pace than normal and the indications were that the shift to higher intensity/lower volume was paying off. The real test will be whether it produces the results at the Lakeland 100.

Race details here: http://www.ultrarunningltd.co.uk/malvern-hills-ultra

Race photos (courtesy of Summit Fever) here:

http://www.ultrarunningltd.co.uk/galleries?album=all&gallery=13

Kit Review

I‘ve continued to depend on the Brooks Cascadia 8 as it’s the most suitable shoe for my requirements. I didn’t experience and joint pain during or after the event and didn’t get a single blister throughout the event.

As the weather forecast predicted light rain in the morning and a sunny afternoon I chose the Salomon Fast Wing jacket as it’s very lightweight and breathable. Once the rain abated I removed it and relied on my Skins arm warmers which were then removed as the temperature rose in the afternoon. Arm warmers are very popular with cyclists for their versitility and I'm surprised more runners don't use them, especially during longer events.

Salomon Fast Wing jacket.

Skins A400 Active Sleeves.

To spare the general public the trauma of seeing me in Lycra shorts I wore the Salomon Exo Wings Twinskin shorts which have a thin outer short over the compression short. They were tight fitting which helps prevent chaffing and were very comfortable and breathable.

Salomon Exo Wings Twinskin shorts.

When the sun shines there’s only one brand of sunglasses I’ll wear: Oakley Radars are the most practical and comfortable glasses I’ve ever worn and a worthy replacement for the older (and previously awesome) M Frames.

Oakley Radars: the daddy.

  All Brooks, Oakley and Salomon  products were provided by Royles: www.royles.biz

Hell on the Humber 12hr 2012

A Hard Day’s Night on the Costa Del Humber
 

The last time I found myself sweating in hot humidity at 2am I was in Kaileua-Kona, Hawaii, so it was the last thing I expected as I spent a night in August running out and back across the Humber Bridge in Hull. I had brought the usual array of waterproofs and thermals as I do to any event but was instead there I was wearing a short-sleeved top and pouring water over my head as I became encrusted with electrolyte deposits.

The format for HOTH was simple. Start at the visitors’ centre on the North end of the bridge and run two miles to the other side of the Humber, turn around a cone and return to the start/finish and repeat as many times as possible for 12 hours. Unlike the Lakeland 100 three weeks previously there were no navigational factors to take into account and the entire route was relatively level. The event relied on nothing more than physical effort and mental determination, so the fittest and most focussed person would win.
 

The support crews' camping area.
 

The race began at 7pm so the competitors and their support crews spent the afternoon pitching tents and setting out tables and chairs under a canopy of trees. With the still, humid air and friendly atmosphere the area felt more like a campsite in France than a car park in Hull.
 

Race briefing from Karl.
 

Once everyone was settled we had a short race briefing from Karl and then we were off. We set off beginning with a short climb which took us from the visitors’ centre up to the Humber Bridge footpath. I wasn’t at all concerned with my position for the first few hours so disassociated myself from what everyone else was doing settled into a relaxing pace. The temperature was perfect and there was a slight breeze as we returned from the Southern turn point, a far cry from the horizontal rain I had prepared myself for in the build up to the event. The sky was virtually cloudless as the race progressed into the evening and we were treated to the almost surreal sight of a vivid red sunset to the West.
 

Hull as you've never seen it!

 

For the first couple of laps the bridge appeared flat, but I gradually realised there were slight variations in incline which would become more apparent as the race progressed. Once we’d climbed from the visitors’ centre the bridge steadily continued to climb at a very slight gradient towards the first support tower where the bridge then levelled off. After reaching the Southern support tower it dropped again but continued beyond the bridge until the turn point. It was therefore slightly downhill to the turn point and therefore uphill back to the start/finish.

I was using the event as final preparation for the Sri Chinmoy 24hr track race in September. My pre-race aim was simple: I wanted to run 70+ miles which would mean I’d be on course to achieve 200km at the track race and give me the qualifying standard for the 2013 Spartathlon. As I had completed three 100 mile events in the previous five months I was confident of running the vast majority of the race with short walks introduced in the last 6 hours. To run 72 miles I had to complete 18 laps (36 crossings), so I intended to run continuously for 9 laps and then walk for 1 mile (in accordance with Prof Tim Noakes’ recommendations). 

After the continuous concentration required at the Lakeland 100 it was liberating to not have to watch my footing or consult a map on a regular basis. Many people prefer constantly changing scenery but I’m just as happy switching off and almost disappearing into myself as I run. I rarely wear a watch so simply ran at a pace I thought I could maintain throughout the race and concentrated on maintaining a high cadence with light foot strike. I was also continually resetting my posture as it’s very easy to develop a slumped position throughout an ultra especially as the hip flexors gradually stiffen.
 

I usually compete alone but for this event had talked Joe – a work colleague – to join me based on the premise that it would be great fun. For the first few laps we greeted each other with a hearty wave but approaching half way the waves were becoming smaller and less enthusiastic.
 

Camp Tosspot.

  

I was taking a drink every lap from Camp Tosspot, our personal aid station we’d established at the finish and used gels and cereal bars when I felt like it. I’d also added a salt sachet into every bottle as I have problems absorbing energy drinks at their normal concentration, and in hindsight would have added a second sachet as I was sweating so much.

The finish area developed into a psychological highlight as the race progressed. Music could be heard from the PA system towards the end of every lap and the whole area was populated with people sat around in groups on camp chairs, some dozing, some chatting and drinking beer. It almost had a continental feel to it and I kept having to remind myself where I was.
 

Costa Del Humber (Photo Toro CSC).

 

As the sunset eventually gave way to nightfall we continued running in the dark under the lights from the road which ran parallel to us. Occasionally bemused motorists would sound the horn as they passed but generally the whole experience was very peaceful and I was loving the simplicity of the event.

By the time I reached the end of lap 9 I was getting slightly fatigued but I decided to complete ten laps before stopping. I didn’t intend to sit down unless I had to attend to my feet so I took some extra food (including a handful of crisps for the salt content) and set off to complete lap 10.

Prof Noakes advocates walking at least 1 mile at appropriate times during ultras as anything shorter doesn’t provide enough recovery to be of any real benefit. In a hilly race you have periods of walking dictated to you at regular intervals but it takes a lot of patience to walk that far on a flat course, something I’d learnt in my first serious ultra at the Sri Chinmoy 24hr track race the previous September.

Joe’s cheery waves had by now ceased altogether and I was now greeted with a half-hearted nod, and we both pushed on with our respective races. The weather was still uncharacteristically warm and humid but I loved it. I was still wearing my short-sleeved Skins top and never felt the need to put move clothes on at any point in the race.
 

Nosferatu on EPO (Photo Toro CSC).

 

We’d been offered a midnight pizza delivery at registration and I was initially very keen on the idea. Usually - especially during night sections in a 100 mile event - hot salty food is the best thing imaginable but I had a feeling it would be the last thing I wanted in a comparably short race. At the end of lap 10 people were sat around eating the pizzas and I knew I’d made the right decision: a handful of biscuits, crisps or a gel every lap was giving me enough energy without causing me to feel stuffed or bloated.

By the start of lap 11 I was ready for a walk. My legs were beginning to stiffen and I could feel my hamstrings beginning to cramp, most likely due to the excessive sweat loss. I took a handful of food and a bottle with me and walked to the halfway point on the bridge, occasionally stopping to stretch my hamstrings as I went.

It can be frustrating walking while others are running but during an event of this nature everyone has periods when they need to back off. I was confident that I would make any lost time up in the second half so used the time to eat and drink and generally relax. The bridge was also becoming quieter as the 6 hour runners had finished and some of the 12 hour runners were taking breaks.

I eventually broke into a jog and after a few awkward steps began to loosen up and felt much better than I had for the previous few laps. I re-focussed on the same points again: stride rate, posture, relaxation and everything began to fall into place.   

I wasn’t aware of my position at any time in the first half of the race but had a feeling by now I was relatively high up in the field. Some of the fast starters were now walking and I’d begun to lap people. After a quick sock change and an emotional reunion with Joe at Camp Tosspot I began lap 12.

I immediately began to catch a runner who I’d seen consistently tapping out the miles since we’d started. I passed him and he eventually re-caught me so we began to run together. His name was John Nicholson and we soon established he was a full lap in front of me. Amazingly it was his first ultramarathon and he had not walked a step during the race. He was also going through a dodgy patch but after a few minutes we were both feeling much stronger and pushed on at a reasonable pace.

John was wearing a GPS and knew his split for every mile. I normally avoid any data until after the finish but I began to find it very useful as something to focus on, possibly as it was giving my brain something to finally think about. It transpired we were running the ‘downhill’ miles averaging around 9:35 min/mile and the ‘uphill’ miles in around 10:25 min/mile. As we ticked the laps off we became surprisingly consistent and were clearly benefitting from running with each other. With the pacing data we were also able to calculate how many miles we were likely to complete by the end of the 12 hours.

Digging in for the last few hours (Photo Toro CSC). 

As the sun began to appear to the East I knew every step of the course. The once seemingly flat and featureless bridge had now developed into a massively varied course packed with numerous landmarks within well defined sections. I now noticed how the gradient of the support cables changed at different points, where the ground echoed in certain places and where the best places were to place my bottle between sips. As these places varied throughout the race it became a game of epic proportions as I guessed where I had previously left the bottle. I even had the dilemma of whether to turn clockwise or anti-clockwise around the cones at the turnarounds, something which demanded increasingly more consideration as the race progressed!

Assuming there were no dramas in the last couple of hours I was on course to complete 72 miles, four miles behind John. As runners were to be stopped close to 7am if they didn’t realistically have enough time to complete a final lap before the 12 hour deadline, I was pushing as hard as possible to give myself enough time to be allowed to continue. John was still determined to run as he didn’t think he would be able to resume running but I was walking the climb out of the visitors’ centre every lap without being dropped. Different tactics work for different people.

Laps 16 and 17 were the hardest effort of the race and although we were both beginning to feel the consequences of the relentless pacing I felt very positive and focussed. More surprisingly, despite the growing fatigue my legs feeling 100% stronger than they had on lap 11.

I’d slightly pulled away from John (although he was still a lap ahead) and caught Joe towards the end of lap 17. I was now running as hard as possible and determined to reach 72 miles. Joe was finishing his race at the end of the lap and we both had a hearty man-to-man chat as we neared the finish area.
 

By the end I was very familier with this view...

I got to the finish and was asked if I was continuing. ‘’Yes please’’ was the answer and off I went to run my final lap. As I’d given so much to make the cut off for the final lap I was now suddenly running with very heavy legs. There was nobody close behind me so I knew I wouldn’t now be caught. I still wasn’t sure what position I was in but based on the 2011 results I was hopeful I’d be in the top three which I’d have been more than happy with. My pace was now gradually slowing as the effort of the previous few laps was beginning to catch up with me, and it was a huge relief to make the final turn at the Southern end of the course.

The final crossing of the Humber was uneventful and it was simply a case of driving on and ignoring the protests from my legs. By now there were very few people still running as they hadn’t made the previous lap in time to continue. I was happy to see the last of the bridge but the event had been a great experience and I’d not been bored once despite the repetitive nature of the course.

Two miles out and back: the Humber Bridge in all its glory.

I eventually reached the Northern side of the river and dropped down towards the finish for the last time. I crossed the line in second place with several minutes to spare, and finally let myself switch off for the first time in twelve hours. John finished a few minutes later having completed 76 miles, an amazing achievement for his first foray into the world of ultras.

After sinking into my camp chair at Camp Tosspot and spending a few minutes discussing the relative merits and drawbacks of racing ultramarathons with Joe, we eventually limped over to the cafe to receive our complimentary bacon rolls and a coffee. Result.
 

Swollen and painful but worth every minute.

Reflection

Karl and his team ran a very friendly event with a keen sense of humour. The course is repetitive and this suits some people more than others, but I thoroughly enjoyed the race from start to finish and liked the predictability and familiarity of each lap.

As I’d completed three 100 mile events in a relatively short space of time before HOTH I wasn’t sure if my legs would rebel at some point during the race. The fact I felt good for most of the race and finished strongly was a confidence booster for the 24hr track race (my main aim for this season) five weeks later. My average pace was around 9:55 min/mile which - although not outstanding - makes the Spartathlon qualification standard of 200km a very realistic prospect.

Race details here: http://www.torocsc.com/index.php/features/runevents/hell-on-the-humber/event-information

Kit Review

Skins A400 short sleeve top. 
 

I had brought the usual array of clothing for every weather eventuality but never had to change any clothes except my socks at the end of lap 11. I was entirely clothed in Skins A400 compression wear for three reasons. It’s very breathable, the calf guards seem to prevent calf strains during races and the shorts don’t cause any chaffing. I find loose running shorts lead to unnecessary rubbing, especially in hot weather.
 

Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12
 

I ran in my usual Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12 to provide the necessary support but also brought my Saucony Hurricane 14 which I planned to change into if I began suffering from blisters. As the sock change (and liberal re-application of Vaseline) seemed to prevent anything more than a couple of hot spots developing I didn’t change shoes.

The socks were the same as I have used for all my events this year: Gore Essential socks which are very effective at wicking sweat away from the foot and also provide extra cushioning (and reduced friction) under the foot.
 

All Brooks, Gore and Skins items were provided by Royles: www.royles.biz