Lakeland 100 2013

Kamikazes, Ninjas and the 85-Mile Elastic Band

Kamikaze:

‘A person or thing that behaves in a wildly reckless or destructive manner.’

Idiot:
‘An utterly foolish or senseless person.’

Last year’s attempt at the Lakeland 100 had been a respectable example of conservative pacing resulting in 17^th place. Complete lack of prior route knowledge had caused me to lose a huge amount of time but I had still managed to work my way up the field throughout the entire race by maintaining a constant pace. I’d learnt a huge amount from the race and I was determined to return and be more competitive.

Or so I thought...

This year I had a cunning plan. I would start faster to seed myself with better runners and hold the pace for as long as possible. Ideally I would survive all the way to the finish but the obvious unknown was judging exactly how hard to work and be able to maintain the pace for 105 miles. I didn’t have a target finishing time but had set myself the goal of a top 10 finish. Amazing how simple it is on paper.

Stage 1: Coniston  to Seathwaite (7.0 miles)
2012: 1:29       
2013: 1:07       

Three, two, one...(Photo Sportsunday).

Race day weather was perfect: sunny with a light breeze and the temperature in the mid 20s. The forecast was for a clear night and a few light showers with sunshine and humidity the following day.  At 6pm we all eagerly lined up at the start and after a rendition of Nessun Dorma we began our circumnavigation of the Lake District. I immediately found myself near the front as we wound our way through Coniston towards the slate mines. Within a couple of minutes we began the first of many climbs and I realised I was further up the field than I had originally planned, something which would have considerable consequences the following day. The field had already split and I could only see two runners ahead, Stuart Mills and Ken Sutor.

I was climbing with two others and I realised one of them was Terry Conway, last year’s winner and course record holder. It was quickly clear I had two options: ease back and be sensible or take a massive gamble and risk complete physical meltdown later in the race. The pace seemed relatively comfortable so I stayed with them – that decision would be the most important one I made during the event!

Gatecrashing big school! (Photo Sportsunday).

We made good progress during the first half of the stage (predominantly uphill) and then I predictably lost ground to them in the second part of the stage (predominantly downhill). By the time I approached CP1 the other two were leaving so the plan was to check in and leave as quickly as possible. I didn’t know it at the time but I’d reached CP1 in 1:07, 22 minutes faster than 2012.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 1: 1/10

Stage 2: Seathwaite to Boot (14.0 miles)
2012:   1:30
2013:   1:16

Losing time on the downhills was something I expected to happen but the problem was I wasn’t familiar with the route during the early stages. I hadn’t recce’d anything before Buttermere as a) I couldn’t get to the relevant recce weekend and, b) I was expecting to have more people around me that early in the race.  I soon became unsure of where I was and lost some time consulting the map, something I had really wanted to avoid after the time wasting the previous year. I was rushing (which is never a good idea when navigating) but managed to catch a glimpse of the others several times a few hundred metres ahead. Things were going well until I reached a farm at Grassgaurds.

One of us is working too hard (Photo Sportsunday).

I followed the obvious route through a farm but after crossing a stream realised there were no wet footprints on the track. I scanned my surroundings hoping to see the others in the distance but there was no one anywhere. I swore a lot (which always makes me feel better) and retraced my steps through the farm as I knew there was a pair of runners not far behind. I soon ran into them and they guided me back on course. Not only had I been caught but I realised these weren’t the same pair that had been following me so I’d been caught by another two as well. Arse and double arse.

The rest of the stage was fairly uneventful. The marshes which had been knee deep last year were much dryer due to the recent heatwave and the going underfoot was good. The leaders were nowhere in sight but we gradually caught the two in front and soon arrived at CP2 in Boot.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 2: 1/10

Stage 3: Boot to Wasdale Head (19.4 miles)

2012:   1:10
2012:   0:57

Positions changed occasionally but I knew I was maintaining my position in the top 10. I was now almost always running with Darron Howarth who I’d bumped into at the farm during Stage 2. The pace was clearly slower than I’d being running at the start but it felt right and I was fairly confident I’d be able to maintain it for the remainder of the race.

Debating the wisdom of starting so quickly (Photo Sportsunday).

The sky was still clear and we could see for miles. Peaks surrounded us in every direction and we had a clear view of Kirk Fell which hid the first significant climb of the event: Black Sail Pass. As we dropped towards Wasdale Head I was feeling surprisingly warm considering the light was fading. We checked in, chatted to the volunteers, refilled our bottles, grabbed a few snacks and continued as quickly as possible.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 3: 2/10

Stage 4: Wasdale Head to Buttermere (26.3 miles)
2012:   1:58
2013:   1:48

Last year I switched my head torch on during the climb up Black Sail Pass but I was clearly ahead of last year’s schedule as we still had perfect visibility. We were now joined by a tall chap called Steve and gradually made our way up the climb. The lower slopes gradually became steeper until I was pressing on my thighs with my hands, taking it one step at a time.  Conversation ceased as we all found our own rhythm and eventually the gradient plateaued as we began the treacherous descent down the other side. The path was strewn with sharp boulders, loose rocks and shale. There didn’t seem to a single level part and I began to lose ground on the other two, something which would reoccur throughout the race.

The road book and map.

After passing the YHA I re-joined the others and we made our way up Haystacks. It’s deceivingly innocuous on a map but felt like Black Sail Pass’s little brother. By the time we reached the top visibility was low so we finally switched our head torches on. Someone in the group pointed out it was almost 10:30pm! What goes up comes down and we were soon negotiating our way down a very uncivilised descent which thankfully became easier towards Buttermere. During this time we were passed by a couple of fast-descending runners and we then all made our way together towards CP 4.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 4: 3/10

Stage 5: Buttermere to Braithwaite (32.8 miles)
2012:   2:05
2013:   1:36

By now it was completely dark but as the sky was still clear we still make out the silhouettes of the fells against the sky. The temperature hadn’t noticeably dropped and we were still running in our short sleeved tops.

The evening was perfect - clear sky with a light breeze.

Stage 5 consisted of two halves: a climb up to Scar Crags contouring up the valley, and a straight, fast drop into Braithwaite. The climb from Buttermere isn’t steep (until the end) but it seems to go on forever. Our group largely remained together during the climb but once over the top we began to split and a couple of quick descenders began to catch us. After a brief climb through Barrow Door (which caused some navigation issues last year) we began the long run down to Braithwaite. A couple more runners passed me during this descent including the first female, Lizzie Wraith. By the time I entered CP 5 there were a handful of people there busy refuelling, eating, clearing debris from shoes, stretching and administering their kit.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 5: 4/10

Stage 6: Braithwaite to Blencathra Centre (41.3 miles)
2012:   2:08
2013:   1:46

I was beginning to feel the effects of the early pace by now but was still confident I could continue at the pace we were holding as long as I stayed adequately hydrated and fuelled. The group had now split and I left CP 5 alone to run the flat road section towards Keswick. We were now in the early hours of the morning and this is always the time when the body feels the most tired. I often feel very sleepy when I’m racing at this time of night and last year I’d struggled during the same stage.

As I approached Keswick I gradually caught someone called Lee who I would eventually spend the rest of the race with. We made our way towards the climb around Latrigg and re-joined Darron who’d had a very fast turnaround at the checkpoint in Braithwaite. A few of the others shot ahead into the darkness but we let them go and maintained our previous pace. After the initial climb the course levelled off slightly as we pushed on towards the remote checkpoint near Skiddaw. Once we checked in with our dibbers we began the gradual descent towards CP6 at the Blencathra Centre. The path was initially quite difficult underfoot but it soon became very easy to make good time. The volunteers at every checkpoint were all very helpful and I was able to collect some food while someone filled my bottle for me.

During ultras I don’t have a specific nutrition plan as taste and appetite fluctuate in random ways you can’t plan for. I aimed to eat as much savory food as possible as it has a higher salt content and doesn’t become sickly like most sweet foods. Because I’d run around the previous year with unnecessary food in my bag I planned to utilise the wide variety of food available at the check points instead. I had a small food bag which I filled with snacks, ran while I ate them and then stuck the empty bag into the top of my calf guard until the next checkpoint. Quite clever I thought. Because of the warm weather I also used a salt sachet in every bottle to help me absorb the fluids.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 6: 5/10

Stage 7: Blencathra Centre to Dockray (49.0 miles)
2012:   1:51
2013:   1:45

Before the race I’d considered CP6 to be a key point in the race. The night section was effectively over and the hardest parts of the course (in terms of topography and navigation) had been successfully completed. All three of us were predictably fatigued as we’d run consistently through the night over difficult terrain, but spirits were high as we pushed on towards Dockray. After a short section on a disused railway line we began to climb up to the Old Coach Road which would then take us straight to the next checkpoint.

I was still climbing well and often at the front of the group so this section was ideal for my strengths, i.e. no descents! When I needed to piss I did it as I ran or walked which seemed to gain respect from my running partners. Lee always stopped when he needed to go and then had to work to catch us up, and regularly complimented me on my ‘Ninja piss’.

The Old Coach Road never seems to end but eventually we reached the checkpoint in the car park at High Row. The marshals told us we were still in the top 10 and apparently there were one or two quite close ahead. I knew Lizzie had pulled ahead and was fairly sure who the others were (by sight if not by name). We also heard Terry Conway had pulled out which was a surprise as he’d been running with ridiculous ease when I’d had my fifteen minutes of fame earlier in the race.

I stocked up as usual and declined the offer of a chair as I didn’t want to stiffen up or switch off. Once I’d filled my bottle with tea I let the other two know I was leaving and walked off while eating.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 7: 6/10

Stage 8: Dockray to Dalemain (59.1 miles)
2012:   2:24
2013:   2:09

By now the sun was rising so the headtorch was removed. I began running down towards Aira Force and was surprised the others were nowhere in sight. Soon enough they reappeared and we began running together again. Apart from the usual fatigue, soreness and pain which would be expected after running 50 miles I was feeling strong and enjoying the whole experience. Even though I had no way of comparing my progress to last year’s race I knew I was ahead by a considerable way and was really motivated to continue pushing as hard as possible.

The shade at Aira Force was a welcome relief.

The sky was mostly clear and the temperature was already in the 20s by the time we contoured our way along the north slopes of Ullswater and we began dousing ourselves in water whenever we crossed streams. After negotiating the crags around Gowbarrow Fell we reached one of the quickest parts of the course. Although Stage 7 is the longest stage (10.1 miles) it’s relatively quick as the second part is predominantly downhill with a few miles along tarmac roads. We made good progress and morale was high as we approached CP 8. Dalemain was over halfway (59 miles) and reaching it was huge psychological boost for all of us.

All competitors had the option of accessing a drop bag at Dalemain. This meant clothes could be changed and we could restock with food and personal items. I used the time to sit down for the first time and sort my feet out. They weren’t causing me trouble but a hot spot can quickly turn into a blister which can then become crippling in a short space of time. I cleared the debris out of me shoes, cleaned my feet with baby wipes, reapplied Vaseline and then put a clean pair of socks on. If I had a second pair of Cascadias I would have changed them as well.

While I was fumbling around I was waited on by some very helpful people and ate and drank as much as I could while I was there. By the time I was leaving the others were also ready so we left together. I now had a cap and Oakleys to combat the sun but the rest of my clothing remained unchanged.

Leaving Dalemain as the lip began to tremble (Photo Sportsunday).

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 8: 7/10

Stage 9: Dalemain to Howtown (66.2 miles)
2012:   2:03
2013:   1:39

We progressed as the sun became warmer, Lee occasionally stopping while I continued to thrill everyone with my amazing ‘Ninja piss’. We passed through Pooley Bridge which was unusually deserted, a far cry from the footfall it would experience later in the day as the visitors descended on the shops and eateries.

After a long gradual climb and equally long and gradual descent we approached the checkpoint at Howtown. As I stood filling my bag with snacks it was the first time my legs had felt wobbly during the race. I wasn’t too worried but it was the first time I’d felt as if I was in a bit too deep. We’d covered 66 miles but still had a respectable distance to cover so I put extra salt in my drink and started walking back onto the course.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 9: 8/10

Stage 10: Howtown to Mardale Head (75.6 miles)
2012:   2:39
2013:   2:32

From Howtown the only way is up. The lower slopes through the valley were fairly shallow so we were able to run but the gradient soon increased and we were back into Black Sail Pass mode: one foot in front of the other, short steps and pushing down on the quads. After reaching the first plateau I could see Lizzie in the distance reaching the top of Wether Hill. The only other person visible was behind us in the valley and we all appeared to be equally spaced apart. It was on this climb that I started to struggle for the first time. Whereas I’d often been at the front pushing the pace in the first 50 miles I was finding it increasingly hard to maintain contact with Lee and Darron.

We eventually reached the summit, had a brief walk and chat (mainly to compare how bad we all felt) and then began the long run along the tops. The path gradually took us down towards Haweswater and was one of the most enjoyable parts of the course. The legs were suffering but the route is over spongy grass which was a very welcome relief after the terrain we’d covered over the previous 70 miles. I was surprised to see we’d almost caught Lizzie and she seemed to be having a bad patch. By the time we began the steeper drop towards the lake three became four. There was very little breeze and Haweswater  Haweswater was like a mirror – not a single ripple. We ran down the steeper slopes towards it and I had a brief chat with Lizzie (''I’m in a whole world of pain!'' ''So am I!''). We then turned right to run along the lakeside path. The map suggests it is flat but the path constantly rose and fell with some technical sections to negotiate as well. I began to lose contact with Lee and Darran and realised I was entering my own bad patch. Even though I’d slowed considerably I somehow managed to drop Lizzie who must have been feeling even  worse than me. 

Things were unraveling by the time I got to Hawaeswater.

As I progressed along the side of Haweswater I realised things were beginning to unravel. There were two possible outcomes: a) if I slowed down, rested at the next checkpoint and consumed more calories I would recover and have a great race, or b) I was fucked. The temperature had risen and I used every opportunity to soak myself in the streams. By the time I eventually reached Mardale Head Lee and Darron had already left. I’d also been overtaken by the runner who had been trailing us as we climbed out of Howtown - he was flying and I actually wondered if he was one of the 50 mile runners at first. I couldn’t believe how fresh and fast he looked.

At the checkpoint I sat down for the first time since Dalemain and ate as much as I could. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty and the heat wasn’t bothering me at all, but I forced myself to do the sensible thing and hoped it would be enough to bring me back into the race.

I’d had a similar experience at a Triple Ironman two years previously. During the second night the accumulation of fatigue and lack of sleep had forced me to grind to a halt and rest. I lost the lead and actually thought I was going to have to walk the last 40 miles. It was only when I ate some hot food at breakfast that my legs returned and I ran the remaining miles feeling better than ever. (You can read that story of daring and heroism here: 

http://enduranceprojekt.blogspot.co.uk/2011/10/after-finishing-5th-at-double-enduroman.html?utm_source=BP_recent)

Lizzie soon arrived having made some ground up on me in the last couple of miles, and after a couple of minutes we left the checkpoint together, both keen to catch the two in front.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 10: 9/10

Stage 11: Mardale Head to Kentmere (82.1 miles)
2012:   1:56
2013:   1:48

Once we left Mardale Head we began a substantial climb which I found noticeably harder than any of the previous climbs. It still felt like we were moving at a decent pace but we were clearly not making any ground on the runners ahead of us. We occasionally chatted but I was more focussed on getting through my dark patch. Once we reached the top we saw someone walking in front of us. I hadn’t seen him before and wasn’t sure at first if he was a competitor or not. I later realised it was Ken Sutor who had been the race leader during the earlier stages of the race. He had also studied at the Runashardandfastforaslongaspossible School of Running and was actually walking slower than me, some achievement considering I was hardly moving.

The descent after the climb from Mardale Head.

We exchanged whimpers as I passed and I refocused on catching Lizzie who had pulled ahead slightly. The next checkpoint was at Kentmere which involved a run into the valley and the scaling of a few walls, something I managed to look very difficult. We arrived at the church together and by now the legs had graduated from wobbling to buckling. I remembered we were offered fresh smoothies the previous year and it had been a real highlight of the race. After hours of sandwiches, cakes, biscuits and crisps it was great to have something fresh and natural. I drank two smoothies and took a couple of sandwiches with me as we left to begin the slog up Garburn Pass.

The Nick Selfdestructometer score after Stage 10: 10/10

Stage 11: Kentmere to Ambleside (89.4 miles)
2012:   1:56
2013:   1:48

Many of the climbs in the second half of the race were very similar: not very long but steep with paths covered in loose rocks. It was hard to gain any purchase underfoot and we found ourselves increasingly slipping as we climbed. It felt like we were taking one step forward and two steps back for much of the time.

My pace was becoming noticeably slower as Lizzie began to pull away again. I didn’t want to consciously slow any more so I tried to maintain the best pace I could. The resurgence I’d had at the Triple Ironman wasn’t happening despite all my efforts and I repeatedly came to a halt during the second part of the climb. By the time I reached the top Lizzie had disappeared. I took stock of the situation, continued to walk for a couple of minutes while I rehydrated and then began to run.

Or rather I didn’t. I managed around ten steps and came to a halt. I tried again and the same thing happened. After a few more attempts I realised I was going to have to walk if I was to continue. The walking pace had also deteriorated so I was spending as much time walking sideways as I was forwards. I was now in the same situation Ken Sutor had been in when I’d passed him during the previous stage.  My head was fine, I wasn’t hot and I didn’t feel lightheaded – the elastic band had finally snapped and my legs had simply died on me.

The long-awaited recovery had failed to materialise and I’d been constantly deteriorating for the last 25 miles. It was becoming apparent I was either going to have to slowly walk/shuffle/stagger for 20 miles to the finish or accept defeat and pull out. I came to race the event to my best ability and had nothing to prove to myself by limping back to Coniston. I was more than happy with what I had achieved up to that point so after 85 miles my race was over.

The problem was I was still 4 miles away from Ambleside. Luckily it was mostly downhill and the weather was perfect. The forecasted rain hadn’t appeared and under different circumstances it would have been a very enjoyable stroll in the country.

Despite my withdrawal I still maintained my top 10 place for a considerable time and I only remember 2-3 people passing me during this period. The contrasting nature of our circumstances couldn’t have been more different and they all looked depressingly strong as they ran past.

The long walk into Ambleside...

Once in Ambleside I shuffled along the main road to save time and was offered a lift by one of the other competitor’s wives.

''Are you in the Lakeland 100?''

''I was ''
''Do you want a lift?''
''Yes please!''

I remember trying to answer her questions and not making a huge amount of sense but I was extremely grateful to get to the checkpoint a bit quicker.

I felt a charlatan as I entered the checkpoint as I received a very enthusiastic reception from the marshals and spectators gathered around the entrance. I quickly indicated I wanted to withdraw and after a couple of people asked me to confirm my decision my dibber was finally removed from my wrist.

The aid station crew couldn’t have been more helpful but I really didn’t need anything except a way back to Coniston. I wasn’t thirsty (and still had some drink in my bottle) and only ate because the spread looked nice and I knew it was the sensible thing to do.

The options for getting back to Coniston were limited: get a taxi or wait for the broom wagon at 2am the following morning. I’d never been in the same situation before and had never considered alternative ways of getting to the finish of any race. The taxi was clearly the most attractive option but John Kynaston came to the rescue as he was driving back to continue marshalling duties in Coniston. So that was it. On a sunny afternoon with around 15 miles to the finish I was wrestling myself into a car experiencing my first ever DNF.

Reflection

This can only end one way...!

Starting so quickly was a gamble and I knew it. I wanted to maintain a decent pace for as long as possible and then dig in to the finish, and I think this would have been the right strategy if I’d held back slightly during the first couple of stages. I was in the top 10 during the entire race and maintained this for around an hour after I withdrew so my pace was considerably quicker than last year. The splits for the last two stages where I really deteriorated were still faster than the times from last year so it’s clear my training had been effective leading up to this year’s race.

My course knowledge was much better than last year (i.e I'd seen the course!) but there were still some places that were unfamiliar on the day. I plan to run the course as much as possible next year as I’m convinced course knowledge is paramount to be competitive in this event.

And of the others I’d run with during the race? Darron eventually finished 5th, Lee was 7^th and Lizzie was first lady and an amazing 8th overall. Well done chaps! Can’t wait for next year.

Race details here: http://www.lakeland100.com/

Race photos (courtesy of Sportsunday) here: http://www.sportsunday.co.uk/lakeland-100


Kit Review

Skins A400 sleeves.

Because the weather was consistently good I didn't need to use any waterproofs or spare layers. The Skins sleeves were perfect for the cooler temperature at night and the calf sleeves were perfectly cool and breathable during the warmer hours.

Salomon shorts.

I used the Salomon Exo Wings Twinskin short as they had been comfortable in training and were less traumatic to members of the public than Lycra shorts. I always smother myself with Vasaline and you'll be relieved to hear I didn't experience any serious chaffing.

Brooks Cascadia.

As ever I relied on Brooks Cascadia as they don't eat my feet and are ideal for courses which cover a wide variety of surfaces. I'm still not sure whether I can use a half-size smaller as there seems to be slightly too much lateral foot movement when I'm on uneven ground. I'll probably experiment with the next pair.

All Brooks, Salomon and Skins items were provided by Royles: www.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