tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15480701792946127152024-03-08T10:03:10.130+00:00Fat to FitAverage but enthused runners collected thoughts on Kit Reviews, Race Reviews and general Running Stories.
This blog is to track my thoughts and share them with those who may be interested.
The intention being to support other runners in their own journey's, races and kit selections. Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-9103496519718770762017-08-12T09:33:00.001+01:002017-08-12T10:17:25.505+01:00Would you like chips with that?<p dir="ltr">So Friday was a big deal. Did anything notably life changing happen??? Not especially, but I am coming to the view that changing the little things is what makes the big difference. So in heading to Sussex for the weekend we loaded the crew. The kids were locked and loaded into their kindles and the dog settled in the back. We started the journey and were soon stuck on the A14 due to an accident. Knowing my propensity for snacking I had brought a sandwich for Zoe and I to share. From there we progressed to the M11. The M11 was SHUT!!! We were delayed by a further 60-90minutes.</p>
<p dir="ltr">With children stuck in the car we elected, at the point of gathering pace, to pull off into the service station. Service stations are evil. What is it with the crap food choices and propensity to serve everything with chips. I'm surprised there isn't a serving of chips offered up with a coffee. Trying to make a healthy choice in a culture that seems to enable the view that fast food has to be junk food and that junk food is a treat, becomes very difficult.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Looking around the service station it was evident the volume of people gorging on crap. Worse still is the compulsion to then buy over priced sweets and fizzy drinks. It's a habit that is normally a part of my decision making. Thinking about it the concept of junk as a treat has been in my mindset for years. Probably since going to the sweet shop as a kid.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So in the service station it felt like there were choices to be made. I elected for one of the only non-chip options and no sweets were purchased, save for the kids having a packet of Smarties each.</p>
<p dir="ltr">On the start of this journey I've realised it's important to not let the environment control my decisions. So when the question comes "Would you like chips with that?" The answer will firmly remain "No"... except maybe after an Ultra :)</p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-25091424989253267232017-08-10T18:01:00.000+01:002017-08-10T23:34:31.117+01:00Weight Gain - A turbulent struggle.<div dir="ltr">
It seems that we often use social media to present the positive. For many this is only a snap shot of the real world. For most who train hard in running and other events, there will be highs and lows. I'm sure this applies to the pro athletes as well as average Jo. Despite this we rarely hear about it. For the majority we want to be the best we can. Perhaps this is for health benefits over performance, but whatever the reason the results don't just happen; or at least we rarely reach our full potential. Yet when we see success of others there can be a false assertion that this came easy. It can feel somehow like it is owed to us. In the moments of disappointment we can then find ways to imply those with success must have had advantages or shortcuts that we don't have available to us.</div>
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So at the time of writing this I am probably the least fit I have been in several years and I am at my heaviest weight. How has this happened? Truth be told it has happened as a result of life. I have allowed work to overtake other matters and then in turn allowed all my weaknesses and addictions to overtake my resolve and addictions. Am I bitter about this? Do I seek to blame others or in some way justify it? At times this has without a doubt been the case. I have ignored the scales and decided to tell myself its a blip and one that will rectify itself. The weight creeps up and then it creeps down. On the way up I have blamed others and on the way down I have revelled in success and then taken my foot off the gas. Its a vicious cycle that is hard to be broken.</div>
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Presently I am back at my heaviest weight of 15st3 and a target weight of 12st feels like a long way off. I have struggled with my weight since University days. That's some 17 years of struggles. The lowest I have been is 13st2, just before the South Downs Way 100 in 2013. Since that time my weight has fluctuated between 15st and 14st6. Looking at this through an honest lense means accepting responsibility. I am prone to weight gain at times when I am busy or overwhelmed. My addiction to sugar is an unhelpful accomplice to fatigue. 700 calories in a 5 minute window become an almost too easy thing to do. From there weight gain becomes inevitable. </div>
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The discipline to resist the sugar is the same discipline required to get up early and train. It's one of the reasons why when in good training habits food choices are better. Being honest though I have then entered into the danger area of complacency around what I can eat. A common thought being, I went for a run so I can eat that. Truth being that the run is a further reason not to eat the junk. Why undermine the gains I am trying to make. Despite knowing all of this it remains all too easy to eat the junk. Then there is the guilt and this is followed with thoughts such as "oh well I will start again tomorrow." That is why I am writing this blog and it feels like an important one to write. Yes it is slightly self indulgent but making myself accountable with regular blog posts I hope will keep me honest and on point. I hope it will inspire others who read this to join the journey and be the best version of themselves they can be. It is not going to be easy. I will blog regularly and I am sure there will be moments when I am ranting about temptations. For now I am in the starting blocks and lets see where this journey goes. I hope others will feel motivated, inspired and share their journeys as well. </div>
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Presently my measurements are:</div>
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<div dir="ltr">Chest - 41<br>
Waist - 40<br>
Hips - 41<br>
L.thigh - 24<br>
L. Calf - 16.5<br>
R.thigh - 24<br>
R.calf - 16.5<br>
L.bicep - 14 <br>
R.bicep - 13.5<br>
Neck - 15.5<br></div>
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I am sharing these as part of my intention to hide behind no smoke and mirrors. Also weight can be deceiving, but to stop that level of excuse creeping in the measurements will tell all. If in a month I weigh the same, but am 2inches less in the waist then I would still be happy. The reality of course being that wont happen. I hope sharing this journey will also encourage others to take on their journeys.</div>
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So there we go. There is just under 10 weeks until the start of the A100. I wont be at peak weight or fitness by then, but it will be a great start in to 2018. Then I will look to beat all my PB's, starting with the Half Marathon and also SDW50. Maybe I'll get lucky enough as well with a Lakeland 100 entry. By 2019 I will be sustaining goal weight and at the third time of trying, taking down the Centurion Grandslam. These are my goals on my journey to be the best version of me. No more half arsed efforts at running races, no more grinding a finish with a lack of training.<br>
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On the plus side, being back in this condition means I can start the journey in earnest that I set out to achieve 5 years ago... Dan fat to fit. </div>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-35503400951071603782017-06-14T18:49:00.001+01:002017-07-24T20:02:25.385+01:00South Downs Way 100 - A painful wake up call.<p dir="ltr">It was 4am and the sun was beginning to rise on Housedean. Tired and with the seething pain of a migraine I was broken. Slumped in the chair I was done... No finish... No buckle... No grandslam take 2! Rewind this back 22 hours and we find ourselves on the start line of The South Downs Way 100. James Elson is going through his speech with his Debbie McGee (Nici Griffin) ably assisting. As part of the speech James announces that for some the race will not be their day and that's ok. Truth be told I was standing there thinking "never going to happen," "not me." I would not go as far as to say I assumed a finish would happen, but in my head I knew I could and convinced myself I would. I gave no sanction to the possibility of failure. Truth be told the DNF is the biggest point of this blog, more so than the review. It's a cracking race and an array of blogs will account for that. </p>
<p dir="ltr">With this DNF I have formulated a multitude of hypotheses behind the reason and each and everyone my responsibility, my fault, my DNF to own. I'm ok with that. This DNF was overdue, this DNF was a long time coming and this DNF was purposeful. Let me recount some of the race and explain why.</p>
<p dir="ltr">At the start of the race I had gravitated towards a slight complacency. I have run enough ultras now to know my mental fortitude is good. I know I can run through physical and emotional pain. Generally when I'm struggling I can find a reserve and press on. The caveat to this, sadly for me is that a need to devote myself to training and key sessions was substituted by the mind telling me I know I can finish. Talking with Zoe after the race we reflected on how at the last three 100s I've struggled. The exception to this being A100. Why??? A100 had a good training block. The rest has been inconsistent, some of this brought on by frantic workloads and advancements in my career, some and largely most of the missed runs were as a result of an inability to prioritise and to simply waste time. It could be called a loss of focus and many other things. The reality being that whatever reasoning is given, the miles were not in the legs. This was not the notorious "mojo" issue or something similar, I simply did not prepare properly and consequently asked too much of my body.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I set off on the SDW100 feeling pretty good. I was running within myself and cruised through the first couple of aid stations with no issues at all. It was getting warm and that was always going to be an issue for me. I was heating up to an uncomfortable level. I was clicking over to about 20 miles and started leaping frogging with a few runners. Dropping into Queen Elizabeth Park I was feeling ok and pace was not too far off where I wanted it to be. I got the boost of seeing my best mate, Sam Robson, doing his volunteer duties. He was there with his family who are, for all that matters, my family. A short period of time messing around with them and then topping up fluids and consuming calories and I was off. Shortly after I began to get some pain in my right hamstring. I found myself stopping and stretching repeatedly. This lasted until about mile 40. By this point it stopped hurting, everything loosened up and I was feeling really good. I ran for a bit with Jo, before pressing on. Approaching mile 50 I was very hot, but generally not too bad. I was not too far back on pace and was building a sufficient cushion on the cut offs, but my mind was leaning towards being overly comfortable with the gap I had, rather than pressing on. A call to Zoe and I could sense her frustration. She was trying to get through to the rational part of me, the part that should have been putting as much on the cut offs as absolutely possible. That woman would have been kicking my arse if she had been present and rightly so.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Out of the 54 mile aid station i was ok. There is a short sharp climb, but otherwise it's ok. Up this climb I was conscious of my weight and the fact I have still yet to crack the weight loss process. I leaned towards thoughts of "if you just left the fucking snacks alone." Something that is easier said than done. The light was starting to become strained by the time I got to mile 62. I was greeted wonderfully by Sarah Sawyer. I was feeling optimistic that things would be good from here, it would cool down and I would press on and before I knew it I would be in Eastbourne. Sarah let me know that lots of others were struggling in the heat. I had a renewed vigour that everyone was in the same position. As I climbed up the hill I was calm and measured in my approach. I was tired, but nothing beyond the norm. Then at mile 64 my world began to flip. A pounding sensation was growing in my head and the pressure behind my eyes was building. At Saddlescombe I hoped to regroup, but the desire and need to stop was growing fast. The treatment at this aid station has to be on par or above any aid station you will find at any event. I knew if I contemplated my journey here then my journey would be over, I would be too comfortable and I would not leave. I got up, thanked everyone and pressed on. A matter of 3/4 mile later I slumped on the hill and phoned Zoe. I could feel my head pounding and thought I was done. Wrestling with a possible 2nd grandslam DNF was emotionally traumatic. It took me to a dark place full of self resentment. I wanted to sob, I wanted to scream and fundamentally I wanted to blame everything else to avoid blaming me. So with that I told Zoe I was going to press on to Housedean. I hoped the headache would pass and I'd kick on from there. In truth I was turning the mirror and using this time to hope for a recovery, but also considering what needed to change if I was going to have longevity in the sport.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I am always touched by the kindness of strangers when sharing such adversity. I was pressing on up the hill and a father supported by his daughter came up from behind me. They offered to hook arms and March me up the hill. I explained that my legs were Good, but my head was shot. Within about 15 seconds the couple located some paracetamol. Now knowing I was likely to stop if the headache didn't clear I chose to take them. The placebo effect off the tablets saw me push on and for a tiny window start to feel better. The reality of the new 10mile gap to Housedean (Clayton Windmills being no more) meant in reality I was going to face 8 miles of bloody Hell and some very dark spaces with that. The placebo effect had not lasted long and I was loitering with the pain of the advancing migraine. I was caught by Jo and another gentleman she was running with. Jo was amazing and tried to distract me from the pain and I could feel her will to see me finish. Secretly she just wanted to see my children run round the track. It turns out my kids have a knack for making Jo sob during races. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Fundamentally though with about 4 miles to Housedean I had to let them press on. I was fully encroached by a migraine and the fatigue of this was now overwhelming. I was fairly sure the race was over for me. I went through ditchling beacon and stopped multiple times to try to regroup and to prevent the pain advancing... it didn't work. I made poor decisions, including down coffee from people's crew. </p>
<p dir="ltr">About 2 miles out from Housedean I was disorientated and for the first time in my life I began to hallucinate. I stopped dead in my tracks, absolutely convinced that a massive bull was standing in my way. I looked down and then back up. When I looked back up the bull was replaced by an overhanging bush. I swore at myself and pressed on down the hill. I was struggling emotionally. I did not want my kids to not have a buckle to take home. Zoe would later tell me, "as long as daddy is home in one piece they won't care one bit." She of course was absolutely right. Two further bouts of hallucination; one bull and a non-existent headtorch behind me and I was sure it was game over, I then fell asleep standing up and as I was jolted awake I had made my peace with it. I trundled into the Aid the station, still with over and hour on the cut off, but my race was over. I removed my race number and gave it to a member of the Aid station team. As I sat waiting for Zoe to collect me I was in a world of pain... not my legs, I had running left, but the migraine was leaving me with blindspots in my vision. My peripheral vision was limited and I knew I'd made the right call. As I sat pondering what might have been and the fact that today I would not be running onto the track, a new found resolute washed over me. I will get fitter and faster, I will come back and conquer the grandslam. I'm not sure the same resolution would have occurred if I'd finished the race. This DNF will enable me to become a better runner.</p>
<p dir="ltr">My only disappointment of the race was at Housedean. I proceeded to take out my emergency kit and get dressed. With 45 minutes until the Aid station closed I was surprised and disappointed to see it being dismantled around me. I was pretty soon left sitting on a chair, with no access to food or hot drinks and the shelter of the canopy was removed. I was invited to sit in a van to wait for my wife. I understand people were tired and wanted to get home, but i was disappointed by this action. I stood up and plonked myself by the wall and waited for Zoe. By the time Zoe arrived all aid station crew had gone. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Zoe drove me back to her parents. I was exhausted and in pain, but grateful she had come to get me. We swung by the track to collect my bag. A hug with Nici and a knowing look of disappointment from both of us. I will crack this grandslam at some point and the failed attempts will make it all the more sweet. I spoke briefly with a couple of other runners at the track and then headed home. I put my feet up and rested for a couple of hours before the kids woke up. Sure enough they ran in the room and were just happy to see me. Big hugs reminded me of what is most important. I can't top the moment my little girl wraps her arms around my neck and shouts "dadddyyyyy" it has and always outweigh the value of any medal. A large amount of the pain in my head was easing, but the overall headache remained for a few days.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So as I look back on this race I have to be honest and say that a migraine may seem like bad luck, but in truth it was deserved. I suspect it was my bodies way of expressing its physical exhaustion. I had been under trained and my sleep pattern had been shit for months. Work has been so busy that I've just lost focus. My body weight is too high and this all accumulated on race day to a DNF. You can't fake a 100 mile finish. Was I unlucky to get a migraine... possibly... did I deserve a DNF... absolutely!!!! So with that noted it's back to the drawing board. I have let training stay limited for a few weeks and to emotionally recover. Today is the 24th July 2017 and training starts in earnest for A100. What that really means and the challenges ahead, well that's for another blog. What I do know is that being honest about this DNF and the reasons behind it, will make me a better runner in the future. I figure you can hide from everyone, but yourself. Today I stand in front of the mirror and am happy that this is my starting line to my next challenge. Today I weigh 15st2lb and optimum race weight is around 12st. I'm not happy with this weight, but each day I will set goals and slowly it will come down. I will crack this battle I have with my weight. If i can succeed with this challenge then I know I can succeed at A100 and future races. Success or failure is on me. I have a great deal of runners to catch up. They have overtaken me in ability, purely through their dedication to training and all aspects of it. I admire each of these runners immensely; such commitment gets tested in various ways. So without remorse for past failings, or jealousy for their successes, I take on board all my lessons from previous runs and am going to now strive to be the best runner i can be. Hopefully along the way that will result in me being the best version of myself. </p>
<p dir="ltr">A massive thank you to all those who said hello on the way. It meant a great deal. I was surprised by how many people recognised me and have read the blog of what is essentially a rambling over weight runner. I am touched that I have inspired some of you and I hope this blog and journey will do the same for others. My moment of the weekend was being asked if I was "The Dan Park" suitably embarrassed that runner can remain nameless :) My response still stands "Dan will do." Hope to see you all at future races and I hope the documenting of this next journey can continue to inspire others. It's not easy this keeping fit lark. I have some ambitious plans for the future and I am sure some of you will all be involved along the way. <br>
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Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-5900472532733020122017-04-28T15:20:00.001+01:002017-04-28T15:45:33.300+01:00Here we go. TP100 is upon us.<p dir="ltr">Well this moment seems to have come around quick. I left the office still with a massive to do list and a variety of things I will need to do next week, but right now I don't care. I am on the train and making my way to a Premier Inn in Chiswick. It now feels like a race weekend. I realise in this moment how long it has been since I have had the chance to feel the nervous energy of a big race. I can't quite believe TP100 is already upon us.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So many people thought I was joking in the office when they asked what I was up to this weekend. Eventually I just stopped telling people; having grown tired of being asked what was wrong with me and being informed most people go to the pub for fun. Truth be told I love my job, but I've been flat out with my main role and my business. Ultras have always been a sanctuary for me and the build up to this one is no different. This race affords me a space to clear my mind and just enjoy my surrounding. I know it will be tough and I know I will be exhausted, but I also know it will rejuvenate me. To quote Faithless "this is my church. This is where I heal my hurt." </p>
<p dir="ltr">I am sat on the train and the removal of traffic stress is absolute bliss. Moments from my childhood (or maybe the reading of Harry Potter) always makes train rides feel like an adventure. An adventure within an adventure... that may be a theme for the weekend.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Leaving the family is always tough. I miss them whilst away and both the kids are growing in cheek and are full of life. I hope that my challenges and strength of character show them a lifestyle choice that will allow them to have the confidence and courage to chase their own dreams in life.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Big shouts of thanks to my wife. I could not do this without her support. She is awesome and I am very aware how fortunate I am with my family and the life I have. So when I am running they will be with me in spirit and then when I turn in to that field on Sunday, I know they will be there to conclude part 1 of this grandslam adventure; another example of an adventure within an adventure.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I have no real targets for the race other than to finish and be in one piece. A sub 24 would be lovely, but I will not be upset if it does not happen. I am hoping that the experiences and mental fortitude of GUCR last year, will enable me to press harder and endure longer. If it has then anything is possible tomorrow.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The bags are packed and I have realised, the more races I have done, how little I need to take with me. I ended up second guessing myself and almost adding more because I might need it.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Giant shout out to the running community and army of volunteers. I will thank you all at the weekend, but having been the other side of the line I know what a hard job you have and the support is invaluable. No offence to those sweeping, but I sincerely hope that, unlike 2015, I see none of you! </p>
<p dir="ltr">I have opted for road shoes. Hoka Clifton 3's to be precise and after much panic my petzl Nao is up and running. It's all fitted in my UD AK 3.0 pack (I am sure UD are building towards an affiliated runner where they can have an R2D2 pack). There is tonnes of room to spare. I find the single back pocket is not segmented enough and so I have split kit into dry bags. One with kit I only need if I DNF and the other for stuff I will only need if temperature drops significantly. </p>
<p dir="ltr">My final tip for runners and something I am carrying... sandwich bag. I have a habit of ramming food down my throat at aid stations and then the volume of food making me feel ill. I will be putting it in my sandwich bag and walking and eating as I leave the aid station. It saves time and means I don't force high volume calories in a short window.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So to the volunteers thanks. </p>
<p dir="ltr">To the experiences ultra runners, you know what to do, just don't get complacent.</p>
<p dir="ltr">To the 1st timers, relax, enjoy and get some sleep. The race will take care of it's self. Focus on the moment and take it one step at a time.</p>
<p dir="ltr">TP100 is flat, but hard. Set off too fast at your peril.</p>
<p dir="ltr">See you all in Richmond.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Grandslam Take 2 begins... Now!!</p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-7366131367005292142017-04-26T23:25:00.001+01:002017-04-26T23:49:20.443+01:00Grandslam Take 2 and basic advice.<div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
I can't quite believe that it is nearly 2 years ago that I first attempted the Centurion Grandslam. So near and yet so far. For those of you who regularly read my blog you will know just how close i came and how devastated I was at having to pull out of NDW at 76 miles. It wasn't long after that race before I had decided that I would be making another attempt at the Grandslam. The Grandslam feels like an itch that still needs to be scratched. I have pushed others to finishes and now I am pushing myself.</div>
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The plan for 2016 was all focused on GUCR. As I have recently blogged about this race you will be able to see just how much that took out of me. The demand of the training and the race itself left my mental fortitude some what depleted. I have spent a lot of time getting my focus back. 2016 was full of highs. Having had the privilege to sweep a lot of runners home to finishes at TP100 and A100 and attending to runners needs at NDW100 I enjoyed remaining part of the community. Of course GUCR remains my personal highlight. See others achieve dreams, and playing a small part in that, was a very close second.</div>
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My training has been up and down, but overall I'd rate it a solid 7/10. I am a different runner physically and mentally from 2015 and I can't wait to get back out there. Some how having a race looming seems to have reignited a spark that I had not even realised had gone out. The missing spark was the charge that was getting me up at 5am regularly in training for GUCR. The missing spark caused me to hit snooze one too many times in build up to this race. I am committed to a successful race at TP100; a finish that doesn't skirt with cut offs and I come away unscathed from will constitute such a success. Following on from this race I feel that business truly begins. My plan for recovery and training into SDW100 is challenging but purposeful. It is all with the focus of peaking for NDW100. There is a good period of time then until A100 where I hope to be in the position of running for a giant buckle.</div>
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I have weight to lose (My great nemesis) and for sure I can gain pace this way. I can get physically stronger as well. With that said I am ready for TP100 and there will be no excuses. Whatever the weather, whatever happens on the day I will remain focused and will press for a finish. I am not underestimating this race and I am ready to give 100% effort. Too many people underestimate this race, after all its flat and fast. The reality being of course that many people set out too fast and just don't manage a running plan; the result being a DNF.</div>
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The Grandslam is gruelling and I am ready for that. It makes you question your ability and I am ready for that. </div>
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For those running their first 100 and for those on their first effort at the Grandslam my advice is this... Enjoy it! Be prepared for pain and be prepared for this at early points. That is ok. Hurting at mile 30 does not mean you won't be feeling good at mile 60. A 100 miler is like the waves of a sea. You will go up and down and sometimes feel overwhelmed. Keep putting one foot in front of the other and you will get to the end. NEVER underestimate the value of running 10meters. If you can only run 10metres in every 20 then by the time you have done 10km you will have run 5km. My point being find your way, but never underestimate how much the little things add up over this distance. Address any niggles early as well. That tiny stone in your shoe that you don't want to lose 2 minutes taking out, well it's now a rock 10 miles later and has grated your foot. Be smart and be responsible. A death March for 14 hours is no fun!!! Trust me on that.</div>
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I'd also suggest strongly to pack your kit on Thursday. Have it all done and put to rest. Friday night needs to be about unwinding and letting the nervous energy keep contained. Sleep Thursday night and Friday night will pay dividends on Saturday. Hydration in build up to the race is also something not to overlook.</div>
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I guess the key thing to maintain is self belief. I am not special, but I do consider myself tough/stubborn. If I can finish then so can you. Just maintain that belief even in the darkest moments. Turn off notions of quitting. I didn't at NDW100 2015 and I got beat. If a volunteer spurs you out of an aid station they feel you are safe to go on. Trust them over yourself. They are usually right.</div>
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Don't underestimate the euphoria of the finish. It will always be worth the suffering.</div>
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For me I am so excited to get this started and embrace the weekend as a runner. This ultra running malarkey can be as lonely as it is sociable. I will be catching up with Phil Bradburn on Friday before he commences his grandslam journey as well. We will be at the Chiswick premier inn. If you are staying there and see us in the restaurant then come and say hello. I am rubbish with names so if you see me do come and say hello I love the festival feel to these race weekendS and am always happy to chat.</div>
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As part one of this four part saga begins I need to thank my family. I know Zoe kills me when I don't warn her that I'm mentioning her in my blogs, but all thanks and gratitude are well deserved. I can only do these things because of her. She never argues or complains. We do argue, but normally this is when she keeps me in line and reminds me I need to be committed to my training. I am minded to a point I made in my wedding speech 6 years ago... I am a better version of me, because of her. I am so proud of my wife and our little family. They ensure I remain focused and appreciate life. I love them more than I tell them and hopefully completing these races continues to show my children to set their own limitations... and then go and smash them. Their strength and determination always feeds into my race weekends. Knowing they will be at the finish is all the inspiration I need to get there. I seem to be watching my children grow up through the finish line photos by Stuart March. </div>
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If you have read my blogs then my alien from 2015 has survived and will be on the back of my pack, hopefully until the end. It's a good way to recognise me. Although in 2015 I think he was more popular than me.</div>
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This is going to be a heck of an adventure this year and one I get to share with so many people from the Centurion Running family, my friends and my family. Lets hope this first step goes smoothly.</div>
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I have two other blogs that will give an indication of what to expect. The first from 2015 and the seconds as sweeper in 2016. Good luck everyone.</div>
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Final advice.... stop checking the weather forecast ;)</div>
<br />Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-33889168921110513722017-04-19T14:51:00.000+01:002017-04-19T14:51:09.324+01:00Grand Union Canal Race 2016<div dir="ltr">
I remember for a very long time being told by so many this is the "best" ultra race on the UK calendar. In fairness many will still make this bold statement. Regardless of the validity of this statement it grabbed my attention and so I entered the race. This story, however, does not begin in 2016. It begins in 2014 with a DNS. I was under trained and ill prepared. Even I'm not foolish enough to try and blag 145 miles. Instead I supported a friend and ran the past 45 miles with him. Many reading this will see 45 miles as inconceivable, but having run further and subsequently finishing the GUCR, I can safely say the difference in the two distances is massive. If you can eat one slice of pizza you don't suddenly assert that you can eat three large pizza's... well not without vomiting, maybe passing out and possibly ending up in hospital. By this virtue very similar to the difference between running 45 and 145 miles.</div>
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Having been part of my friends experience I understood the buzz around this race and the desire of so many to complete it. During 2014 I shared many highs and lows with runners. There was a huge camaraderie and sense of a united front trying to slay a beast. 145 miles seemed impossible and in so being drew many to try. Those that fell urged others towards the finish. The course for the most part is also beautiful and develops an aura of a world separated from ordinary life. In 2014 I remember being delighted and very proud when my friend finished, but also very envious. This race was firmly logged on my bucket list.</div>
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So it came to be that 2015 I would try the Centurion Grandslam. I got close, but to no avail. Now under the watchful eyes of Edwina Sutton I changed my approach to running, not my love, just my approach. I was to be purposeful in my training and consistent. In entering the ballot for GUCR I hoped by virtue of having a crew that I would secure a place, but in my mind I readied myself for making other plans. Following the draw the results went live at about 1am. I was in and I could not resist a message to my crew. They were equally delighted. My focus now increased further and specific training was now in total dedication to running a flat 145 miles. </div>
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Week in and week out I stuck to plan. My love hate relationship with sugar meant my weight was not falling off, but everything else was going great. So the race got closer and plans became real. I was hitting personal checkpoints in my training and then BAM! I get a message from my crew. 2 out of 4 could not help out. No animosity as it was for health reasons and I would never want someone to jeopardise their health on my behalf. I was worried that i would not be able to source alternative crew. Bloody hell what it did next was energise everything. I became aware just how much people believe in me and supported me. So many who would have helped but were out of the country. It did not stop me rapidly sourcing crew.</div>
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My best friend Sam Robson pretty much dropped everything and at the risk of a disgruntled wife he sought her approval (Thanks Jen), was then on my car insurance and on the crew. Bryan Webster and my wife Zoe were already planned to be supporting at certain junctions of the race. I really needed one more person... in stepped David Barker. Now this is a man who ran A100 in under 16hours and then went and helped at the Reading Aid station. On this day he would be finishing work and then leaving Kent at 3am to get to the race start. He would then support until 4am and then look after his children whilst his wife went to her own race (thank you Sarah.) </div>
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So with a revised but in no way compromised crew I was ready for race weekend. Conditions looked favourable if potentially a little hot, but heck I was going to be running over 2 days, anything could happen. So on the Friday i packed my gear and got on a train to Birmingham. I could not get as way as early as i would have liked. It became a little bit of a rush to the premier inn and then registration. There was a buzz around town and i recognised a few runners all displaying the nervous energy. As i approached the Premier Inn i bumped in Tom Garrod. He was in fine form and clearly ready for the race. I always love catching up with Tom, he is an absolutely inspiration to anyone over coming adversity. The registration is without a doubt the most understated registration i have ever experienced. I collected my Hoodie, T-Shirt and canal key and my name was ticked. That was it i was registered and good to go. I made a vow that i would not put on the Hoodie or the T-Shirt until i completed this race. It felt like i had not earned them yet. I took the decision to head back to the Premier Inn, rather than join the crowd. I caught up with a couple of runners and then proceeded to bed. A quick chat with my running coach, a review of kit and a panic of whether i had anything and then lights out.</div>
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The alarm went and blurry eyed i woke up. It was 4:45am and the start of a very long period of time awake. My mind was clear and the training was done. Everything i could do to prepare had been done and could no longer improve my chances of completing this race. A call from Sam to check i was awake and the dawn of what i was about to undertake was washing over me in droves. I gathered my kit and covered my feet in anti-chafing powder, before getting dressed. Now i should at this point note that the powder is brilliant stuff, but slip and it may look like the aftermath of a party hosted by a Rock and Roll band. For future reference i will apply this stuff to my feet in the bath, in order to reduce such aftermath. So once again probably like a party hosted by a Rock and Roll band.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not what it looks like.</td></tr>
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Willing, ready and hopefully able i headed downstairs. Sam was patiently waiting for me and then the gloom of the rain was visible. Seriously all signs had pointed to no rain and already it was chucking it down. Forecasts were for this to progressively clear as the morning progressed. I put it to the back of my mind and decided that what would be would be. Nothing was going to stop me from crossing that finish line. I dont think i have ever been so determined to complete a challenge. If it was going to rain then so be it. The iron being, as this report will show, not long into the race i would have killed for it to rain just a little bit. </div>
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At the start line i was relieved to know that David had arrived and he and Sam would now be together to assist as my crew. The start was awash with nervous energy. I caught up with Rodrigo Freeman and Mark Haynes. Both were well prepared and ready to get going. After the race announcements, cautions and advisory's we were released upon the canal. Truth be told it was all very anti-climatic. Imagine the 100 metre start line of an olympic final, everyone crouched low in their blocks, the gun goes off and all bar one runner of eight stands up and begins a casual walk. Magnify these proportions to 150 runners and this was in effect how the start would have translated to an outsider. Inside though i was running to a plan. It was a case of slow and steady and leave enough running for the final 45 miles. Oh sure i will just take it steady for 100 miles and then run the last 45 miles. Bloody hell what was i thinking. Who considers this a normal way to spend a weekend. Well truth be told i saw nothing about this weekend as normal, but i did see this opportunity as a blessing, a peaceful one and something i would grab with both hands, until i reached Little Venice. i trudged along with Mark Haynes and watched Rodrigo disappear into the distance. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super excited to get going.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lazSummuPpM/WPa5jkdtAMI/AAAAAAAAMqc/JSAU6oOony0WQfKGnHLO3ce6gHtYICwFgCLcB/s1600/DSC_0598.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lazSummuPpM/WPa5jkdtAMI/AAAAAAAAMqc/JSAU6oOony0WQfKGnHLO3ce6gHtYICwFgCLcB/s320/DSC_0598.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There i am "whizzing" by.</td></tr>
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The rain was a distant memory and rapidly the world was heating up. I say world as nothing beyond the canal and the rhythmic pounding of my feet seemed to exist. I was becoming encapsulated by the melody i was creating on the tow path. I was losing any concern for the stresses of my daily life. I was focused, i was calm, i felt positively in control. I arrived at my first meeting point right on schedule. 10.7 miles completed in a little over 2 hours. I was feeling good as i took supplies from my crew. All was going smoothly, yes it was heating up, but everything was in working order. It seemed on the surface like it was going to be a lovely day of running. I even had the chance to laugh off an error when i realised my crew had passed me the spare bread i forgot to tell them about. Yum sandwiches with no filling. Well at least i made some ducks happy. Cruising in to mile 18.1 at 9:32am i was 4 minutes ahead of schedule and not feeling too bad. By this point it was hot though. I could sense the danger that the heat was going to be a problem. As i trundled away from my crew i was feeling warm and the naive optimism of "what could possibly go wrong" was being replaced by "you fucking idiot, its 145 miles of course it was going to be brutal." In any event i decided the best course of action was to ignore myself. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Collecting my bread with no filling.</td></tr>
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I had an opportunity to run a little with Ashley Hurd. He was keen to complete the race. I left him around mile 15 where he was supported by his wife. I did not see him after that and was sorry to hear he DNF'd. At about mile 18 i saw Phil Bradburn and would frequently see him along the course. Time was drifting a little for me. Nothing to panic about at this point. I was well under the cuts offs and not too far shy of my A race pace plan. With that said i was feeling increasingly worse. The heat was bloody appalling. I was left with indigestion and a sense that my body was slowly imploding. I was drinking regularly, but some how could not quench the first. I wanted to eat and project everything from my stomach in equal measure. Both options held little appeal and i was slowing as a result. A furiously hot day with the sun bouncing off the tow path causing increased intensity. At mile 30 i looked like shit, I felt like shit and my ever honest crew told me i was looking great.... lying bastards. I still had loads of running in my legs, but i could not muster the energy. I was not prepared to contemplate a DNF, but it felt like the body was failing my mind. At mile 34 on the verge of frying my body i saw a safe haven, a utopian vision of tranquility. I could not have asked for it to be better placed to save my race. Now truth be told it was a break in the hedge that created a space completely enclosed. Beautiful shade and a swing hanging from a tree. I was in no mood for a swing, but i did force some calories in and sit down and close my eyes for 10 minutes. Maybe i could cool down, hit reset and get moving. Well reset is about right. My body temperature dropped and as i stood up had a massive head rush. I felt nauseous, but was keen to get moving. One step... two step... and we were playing anything but "round and round the garden." I toppled to my knees and vomited violently into the canal. I have since been informed that a number or runners passed me and assumed i would be DNF'ing. The little voice in my head decided that i 'only' had 110 miles left to race so i may as well press on to the finish. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautifully scenic route</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot and feeling like utter trash.</td></tr>
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The next phase of the race was spent trying to ignore the heat and watching other runners also rationing their water. I seemed to struggle to compute a simple bloody lock on the canal tap. Thankfully a Canal Boat resident took pity on a sweaty salt ridden runner and showed me what i was doing run. He was very friendly and i think resisted patting me on the head and telling me it would be ok. I filled my water bottle and set back off. Approaching Braunston Locks i was anticipating seeing my crew. I knew they were due to appear and probably would just be relieved to see that i wasnt dead. It transpired to be a downhill stretch to my crew and at 44 miles there was my crew with fresh coffee. I sat down and took in the view. I was not feeling great, but was revising my targets. This race was about achieving and showing myself that the seemingly impossible could be done and reassuring myself that the only boundaries that apply to me as a runner are the ones i set myself. I was down, but far from out. I was over a 100 minutes down on my planned pace. Apparently vomiting in a canal and sitting on the side of a canal wondering what the fuck is going on takes up a lot of time. I knew i had stopped too much with my crew. I was wasting time, but i needed to get myself focused and this was the only way of keeping me in the race. On the plus side the stretch down to my crew saw the first of many running friends appear, Nick was full of encouragement. I am sincerely always touched by the running community and their happiness to give up time and support. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My crew worked tirelessly from start to finish.</td></tr>
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After a bloody good cup of coffee, thanks David, i felt a lot of better and was determined to get into a rhythm. I may have felt shit up until now, but i was NOT going to get myself timed out. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Could murder a cuppa."</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling like trash, but a cracking cup of coffee worked wonders.</td></tr>
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Now in this race whilst the cut offs are very generous the cut offs up until CP4 force you to keep a reasonable pace. I was finally in a good place. By this i mean i was resigned to feeling like crap and was able to turn my brain off to this. I ran safely and for decent periods of time. I was struck by the surprising beauty of the course. It was proving to be a very scenic route and the heat was reducing and my pace increasing. I was happy i could make it through the cut off at CP4 with plenty of time. I was trading places with a few runners. Glyn Raymen reminded me we needed to get a bloody move on or we would be timed out. Shit.... really... you mean i fell asleep in a bush, vomited in a canal and demonstrated my ineptitude to open a basic lock... all to get timed out. Bollocks to that. I picked up the pace. This was a liberating moment. I reminded myself no matter how bad i was feeling i could and would still run. I ran a few good miles, but Glyn and other runners were still panicking. I then asked them what time they thought the cut off was. "7pm" was the response i got. For those unfamiliar with the race the cut off was 7:30pm. The relief in that moment is hard to describe. I had grinded to this point and would come in to the checkpoint with plenty of time to spare. I saw my crew briefly, clambered over the lock at Buckby Top Lock and jogged down the steps. I was ok and fast realising that Mountain Dew was settling my stomach. Yep so the influx of the caffeinated ghost buster coloured bottled substance began. I continued the run to CP4 and came through there at 6:55pm. I was 35 minutes under the cut off and could now relax into the race. </div>
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There are not many races i can think of where 53 miles and 13 hours in i can comment that it was time to relax into the race. With that said i was relaxing and feeling in control. I had planned to arrive at mile 53 by 4:54pm. So yes i was 2 hours down, but heck i was in the fight and this fight was not going to be won by knockout. It was going all the way to the 12th round and i was going to need to win this fight on points. From this point you approach Blisworth Tunnel. It was a very pleasant evening and still light, although the sun was fading fast. Climbing up the hill i took a comfort break and in the process discovered a dropped digital camera. This was handed off to my crew and i believe successfully returned to its owner. It is worth noting that this section has a suprising bit of incline, but it doesnt last long and is definitely runnable. Do not be deceived into thinking you have to walk the hill.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The inspiring Tom Garrod in top form.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finding some rhythm in the heat.</td></tr>
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I was feeling ok, tired and fatigued from the heat of the day, but generally in good spirits. My next mental goal was Navigation Bridge. It felt like it would never appear and whilst not exactly half way it felt to me like this was my midway checkpoint. About 4 miles out i found myself running with Ian Shelley and Jay Close. I was very grateful as a couple of silly navigational errors could have caused me undue distress. They kept me on the straight and narrow and as we came up to the top the hill i stopped for a quick coffee. I then pressed on into the darkness and the descent down the road. Navigation Bridge was looming. In my haste i crossed a road and plodded down a hill. Something didn't seem right and after about 400 metres i checked my map and could only assume i should have turned left at the crossing. I saw a flash of light that appeared to be trying to attract my attention. I retraced my steps and at the junction i could see nobody. Maybe i had made the flash of light up and then there it was again, but slightly further down the road. I ran down after it, hoping that i would not becoming like that crazy dog chasing the ice cream van. As it was within about 50 metres of the runner i heard "thank fuck for that." It was Ian Shelley expressing relief. It turns out he had seen me drop down the hill and was worried i would not realise. We chatted for a bit and then he pointed me to the point in the village where you access the canal. I pressed on and it was apparent that Ian sadly was approaching the end of his race. I am for ever grateful that he appeared to instill his last amount of energy into motivating me to get to Little Venice. For this who will run the race remember to turn left at the cross roads and when you head down the hill you cross the road and there is a gate that lets you back on to the canal. </div>
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Running along the canal, in the dark, i was reflecting on what i was trying to do. I was knackered and nearly 18 hours into my race. Then from the darkness appeared the well lit bridge. I heard my name, well i thought it was my name. Oh that's pleasant i thought and then it became a scream and a cheer and a whoop and a holler. Finally i had made it and there was my crew, my friend Anne and her partner and my wife. Anne appeared drunk on the energy of watching all these running loons coming through for several hours. Zoe was genuinely concerned for me. I was cold and exhausted. I went to the car and slept for 10 minutes. BIG MISTAKE! i strongly advise anyone undertaking this race to resist sleeping in the night. I got bloody cold, bloody quick. I was not making sound judgements and failed to make a sensible decision to put on running tights. Yes i added layers, but the quickest act would have been to wear running tights. After a limited effort to eat something i took a few hugs and some swigs of Mountain Dew and pressed on. I now had running support with me and only 85 miles to go. Sounds so simple when written on paper. </div>
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At this point in the race my crew excelled. I could not have done this without them and my sincere thanks to them all. Bryan Webster joined us at about mile 80. It was good to see another friendly face. When i received no sarcastic banter i knew i must look like shit. Photographs and crew accounts would safely verify that i looked like garbage. David left us at this point to get himself home, huge thanks to David for nursing me through 80 miles. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep looking brilliant.</td></tr>
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We pressed on to mile 85 and what was CP 6. I could not keep my eyes open and i could barely put one leg in front of the other. I decided i needed another nap. Naomi Newton-Fisher was at this checkpoint. I was so tired i could barely must a hello, so apologies if i was in any way rude. I bolted for the car and reclined the seat. The plan was 15 minutes and then really make progress. With this plan in place Zoe came with me to have a power nap, in truth i think she was more worried that i may swallow my tongue. After somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes i sat bolt up right and was ready to crack on. I knew that if i didn't get moving it was game over. I caught Bryan on the hop, but he responded admirably and chased after me along the tow path. For the next few miles things were going ok, but i really needed a shit. Yep the glamour of ultras is the reason i got into these things. Any way after a couple of failed bush visits i decided it was pointless trying and just pressed on.</div>
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The sun was up now and we were in for another hot day. Oh good, i enjoyed this so much the day before. As if to test my legs, or take the piss Bryan and i approach a swan along the canal path. It was blocking our route and there was no alternative way to pass. So i picked up the pace and jumped pass the swan. The swan swore and hissed and darted its head towards me. Thankfully the swan missed and now it was Bryan's turn to get past. So he lined up and ran past.. and.... nothing... nope nothing. The swan gave him no notice. So remember people Swans are evil and pray on the weak. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beware of the killer Psycho Swan.</td></tr>
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Pressing on Bryan and i arrived at the 100 mile mark in around 27 hours. I got to use an actual toilet and felt significantly relieved. The joy was captured in a photo taken by Bryan. As we left the checkpoint Bryan and i discussed the fact that despite how bad i had been feeling i had still gone through the 100 mile mark in 27 hours. This moment and the rising of the sun gave me a sense of renewed vigour. I still had running left in my legs and felt able to press on. I reviewed the race to this point and realised there had been some seriously low moments, but i had overcome each and everyone. I was feeling better than i had felt at mile 30 and i was growing into the race. I had loved every moment of the race. Yes the near disasters were not pleasant in the moment, but the challenge of the race was why i entered. I did not go to Birmingham for an easy and unfulfilling experience.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes a poo can be this rewarding.</td></tr>
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So running along the canal on the Sunday it did not get as hot as the Saturday, but it was a beautiful day and i was enjoying my running. I was struggling to eat anything and probably pissing my crew off as i rejected all things i had requested. I believe at one point Bryan suggested to Zoe that she just reheat the last set of noodles as i would not bloody eat them any way. I can't say i blame him as well as it transpired he was right. I am not sure at what point it occurred but Sam and Bryan swapped out pacing duties. I was tired, but running with a smile and growing in confidence that i would get the finish. I was bettering my revised target times and sustaining pace. At about mile 110 i felt like i was in a Rocky movie as various running friends appeared to offer their support. Paul Radford was out and in good spirit. In addition Phil Gatsky appeared. I had first met Phil when i swept Thames Path 100 and bullied him to leave the mile 91 aid station. It was a welcome period of support and i believe i ran the next 5/6 miles straight with no walking break. With power of others around me and my further consumption of Mountain Dew i was feeling good. Phil ran with us for about 9/10 miles and it was a huge element of support. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beginning to feel better and get back in the game.</td></tr>
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The clock continued to click and it was apparent that i was going to be out running into a second night. Once i accepted this the rest of day was great. At Springwell lock i knew there was just 25 miles to go. Yep only a marathon to go. If it were not for the 125 miles in my legs then this would be a doddled. I pressed on and Bryan jumped back in as a pacer. My body felt tired but ok. This was with exception of my feet. Every step made my feet feel like they were being dipped in lava. I am sure i was walking barefoot on hot coals. I could not run, i could barely walk, but i wanted to get to the finish. We had considered whether Zoe would run with me or not. At this point it would be anything but running. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only a marathon to go. NB: I am not sponsored by Mountain Dew.</td></tr>
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As Bryan and i progressed along the tow path i started chanting "ow fuck, ow fuck, ow fuck fuck." For whatever reason this worked. Provided i continued to repeat the chant i was able to continue running pace. We ran past some highly diverse cultures. This included a barge bar and a man in a whacky top hat... oh the temptation to have a pint, but i would have passed out in the canal. Everyone was happy and engaged and even as the sun was setting the moods were lifting. I was on the look out for the famous left turn and the sign to Paddington. Honestly as i was chugging down more Mountain Dew i convinced myself that someone had moved the left hand turn. It was not there and i was convinced we must have missed it. Of course we had not and eventually the left turn appeared and so did more swans. These were more friendly than the previous swans and we passed without issue. Sadly this last section was littered with rubbish... sigh.. come on people.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The relief at the sight of the left hand turn. I promise i am not sponsored by Mountain Dew.</td></tr>
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At CP9 I briefly caught up with many runners i knew, both who were running and those who were crewing. I sat down briefly to compose myself. I took on some fluid and some more Mountain Dew (i may have been glowing green at this point.) I wanted the race to be done and so got up and pressed on. We decided Bryan would continue to run with me rather than switch Sam back in. Bryan and i were in momentum and he was now zoning out my swearing and recognised that my body was telling me to sleep when it should keep running. Bryan appropriately forced me to keep moving. He rewarded me with limited rest breaks at appropriate times, but in general there was little break. We caught up runners and for the first time in hours we were overtaking people. This felt good and aided the miles being ticked off.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A well earned rest break. Can you spot a theme in what kept me going.</td></tr>
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The sun was setting but our pace was improving. I could not believe the miles were ticking away so well. Then before i knew it we were at mile 139. Bloody hell 6 miles to go. We had sustained such a pace that we were there 30-45minutes faster than anticipated. I took on some more Mountain Dew and Zoe confirmed that she was going to run the last 10km with me. I was overwhelmed by this gesture. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A moment with my wife that i will treasure forever.</td></tr>
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My wife and i have shared some of the most incredible memories in life that no one else will ever share with me. We have shared a marriage proposal in Spain, entering into a marriage, Zoe has walked in the last 9 miles of SDW100 with me, she has given me two wonderful children and here we were about to share the most amazing moments of this race. I couldn't have wished for a better partner to finish this race with. Don't let this blog present our marriage as perfect, we argue, fight and disagree, but Zoe is my hero and the love of my life. I am who i am because of her and she inspires me to be a better parent and generally better person. I guess in that way we are a lot like the GUCR race. It is not always easy and there can be a lot swearing, but ultimately the journey is without a doubt worth the challenges. I prepared myself to walk in the final 6 miles. I knew Zoe had been training and was becoming capable as a runner, but my feet hurt. I held her hand and as we walked into the darkness i knew in that moment it was only about me and her. Yes there was a huge wealth of support and people i could not have achieved this race without and social media was bursting with encouragement, but in that very moment it was only about Zoe and i. The world was quiet and we pressed on. Zoe shared with me that she had been training up to 10km distance to run this last leg in. Oh come one Zoe with the emotional blackmail. Now i had to bloody run. So on we ran, and it was wonderful. We entered into banter and counted the miles down. I calculated that we could walk it in about 2 hours. Zoe's response was to tell me that we could or we could run and be finished in 70 minutes. Zoe was absolutely right and we ran. I entered into a facebook countdown. Zoe had found the Bryan balance of supporting me, whilst also ensuring i did not stop running. Mark Haynes had obviously found a second wind and passed me with about 3 miles to go. Zoe and i pressed on and the last 2 miles seemed to go on forever. I could have sworn that Little Venice would never appear. In that moment i did not want it to. I wanted this experience and the moment with the love of my life to last forever, it was a wonderful feeling. Then in the distance there was a flicker of a light. The light was dismissed by Zoe, but i became like a kid at Christmas... "Its a light a light... i can see the finish." It felt to me like a lighthouse shining its beacon. I could see the finish and knew the home straight was in my grasp. This whole journey had lasted for over 41 hours and in truth the real journey started months prior. I was happy, i was grateful and i was proud. As i crossed the line i felt so drained. Suddenly i had no more energy. There were other runners also sat, all looking broken, but all in their own state of reflective euphoria. </div>
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We left the finish after i received my doorstop medal. I could barely stand with it around my neck. Nonetheless we got up. After many hugs and congratulations it was time to get a taxi. I had contemplated walking the mile and a bit to the hotel. Thankfully both Zoe and Bryan exercised common sense and informed me they would like to be at the hotel in the next hour. We got to the hotel and as i was signing in nearly fell asleep on the reception desk. Thankfully there were lifts, the rooms were large and the bed comfortable. I flopped on the bed, fell into the shower and then back onto the bed. I was tired, but elated. I went to check my phone and respond to some comments. My phone went crazy with beeping and updates. I was falling asleep whilst holding my phone. I was shattered, but peaceful and was experiencing a sense of fulfillment. I had achieved a bucket list race with wonderful memories and vomiting in the canal seemed a life time ago.</div>
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In reflection this was such a good race. The diversity of cultures that i experienced on the canal was like no other i have experienced. It was so much fun and everyone was friendly and interacting. On the whole the race was beautiful, genuinely beautiful with diverse scenery. I loved the different sites, although no site tops that of the flashing finishing beacon and the bloody big medal. I can put in a better performance and i am sure i could go quicker (i will be back,) but no finish will have the magic of this first finish. GUCR 2016 was magical.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GUCR is beautiful.</td></tr>
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Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-60463782050740297112017-03-18T11:56:00.001+00:002017-03-19T08:54:47.428+00:00A blog on the run! Housedean to Eastbourne<p dir="ltr">All my blogs are generally written retrospectively. Today I thought I would put my thoughts down as I go. Having flogged my legs at the gym on Thursday I was concerned today they would be dead; I would get 1/2mile into my run and drop to the floor crying like a child who has been told they can't have any sweets. </p>
<p dir="ltr">My plan was to head out of Housedean and run the SDW into Eastbourne. Once there I will run to the Marina where my wife's parents live. Setting out on the run things felt great. I am wearing a weighted pack. Probably 2kg heavier than it needs to be. I am trying to follow an even effort level and not concern myself with pace. This definitely keeps the ego in check, but I'm finding the run that much more enjoyable. So as I tackled the climbs from housedean and on to the yellow brick road, I found myself in an uplifted mood. For the first time in forever it isn't mattering what my watch is saying. 10mm/11mm/14mm I do not care one ounce. </p>
<p dir="ltr">My normal preoccupation when running is time. How quick can it be done, can i press the pace a but more. Today is simply not about that. So as I ambled into southease I am now sat typing from the cafe. I'm am going to sip my coffee and enjoy the moment. Then I shall March up the "dreaded" climb and enjoy a run through into Alfriston. I may even stop there for cake. What ever I decide it's going to be fun.</p>
<p dir="ltr">My recent post is my lesson point. If we rush through everything we see nothing and in that absence I find there is a void that takes the enjoyment with it. So I'm going to enjoy the moment and I will get to Eastbourne in a good mood and probably ready for dinner :)<br><br><br></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Mlrfp2FdJHI/WM0jQoxxNTI/AAAAAAAALqc/6H4Ed8d7sMI/s1600/20170318_105426.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Mlrfp2FdJHI/WM0jQoxxNTI/AAAAAAAALqc/6H4Ed8d7sMI/s640/20170318_105426.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VSGOB-yZULI/WM0j8zrQagI/AAAAAAAALqs/7QHmU-kWo_M/s1600/1489838841775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VSGOB-yZULI/WM0j8zrQagI/AAAAAAAALqs/7QHmU-kWo_M/s640/1489838841775.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So it's all a bit too comfortable sitting drinking this coffee. Coats in the bag so hopefully won't need it when I get to the top of Southease. Watch says 6.5 miles and the centurion aid station list says it's 7.4. I always did like centurion. Right time to put the pack back on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3kVoMTdi7-s/WM0mIh-MrzI/AAAAAAAALq4/lQWgfkClR-M/s1600/1489839654193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3kVoMTdi7-s/WM0mIh-MrzI/AAAAAAAALq4/lQWgfkClR-M/s640/1489839654193.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So as I march up Southease I am reminding myself for future runs that the climb is not so bad. You can all mock me post SDW100 blog when I'm complaining. The wind is picking up and mist is setting In, but it remains a stunning reminder of why I love running. The cafe is a distant memory and I am hunting down the hikers. I fear this live blogging may be sending me a little crazy ;) see you all in Alfriston.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-D-ANhWYZNUU/WM0rA4l_9GI/AAAAAAAALrM/l0VUTwRW8GE/s1600/20170318_123804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-D-ANhWYZNUU/WM0rA4l_9GI/AAAAAAAALrM/l0VUTwRW8GE/s640/20170318_123804.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LJwcIm6XA88/WM0rDVlIhHI/AAAAAAAALrQ/pn_RG5OIjeo/s1600/20170318_123811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LJwcIm6XA88/WM0rDVlIhHI/AAAAAAAALrQ/pn_RG5OIjeo/s640/20170318_123811.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jnbZKkqqztU/WM0rE3ZWDLI/AAAAAAAALrU/WixCZa6CNmk/s1600/1489840914023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jnbZKkqqztU/WM0rE3ZWDLI/AAAAAAAALrU/WixCZa6CNmk/s640/1489840914023.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I have now arrived in alfriston. That last section went really well. The weather definitely turned as I hit the peak. The wind was swirling around my head and the noise engulfed all thoughts and any indication that anything else existed. In truth it was bliss. It's is only bettered by the the sounds as I am typing. The wind has died away and been replaced by the chirping of birds and the bleating of sheep. I have my first sign of the climb out of alfruston. With no pressure on time and pace I am looking forward to it. I think the South Downs may truly be my favourite location I have ever visited. The photos below show the mist that closed in and is a reminder to anyone running the downs, be it on their own or as part of a race, the weather changes from hill to hill. Go prepared. Oh and yes I did chase down more hikers. Next stop Jevington.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-i1vlQ_nwMSo/WM07nGB8NtI/AAAAAAAALrk/xDbl8vbQiGo/s1600/20170318_124819.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-i1vlQ_nwMSo/WM07nGB8NtI/AAAAAAAALrk/xDbl8vbQiGo/s640/20170318_124819.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KDwgtu94pGA/WM07o1DczmI/AAAAAAAALro/j-D8Giy1yoE/s1600/20170318_132621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KDwgtu94pGA/WM07o1DczmI/AAAAAAAALro/j-D8Giy1yoE/s640/20170318_132621.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9nBWAV2znAc/WM07qgfua2I/AAAAAAAALrs/yTqG8WhwWDk/s1600/20170318_125044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9nBWAV2znAc/WM07qgfua2I/AAAAAAAALrs/yTqG8WhwWDk/s640/20170318_125044.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-S4XAnJb-8nw/WM07s8fzjKI/AAAAAAAALrw/ILzpQOKIwkE/s1600/20170318_134327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-S4XAnJb-8nw/WM07s8fzjKI/AAAAAAAALrw/ILzpQOKIwkE/s640/20170318_134327.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In the spirit of this blog being "live" it seems fitting to capture the fact I nearly photobombed a wedding party. Coming through the village I thought I'd check in on the aid station of the centurion races, for a moment of reminicising. Turns out there was a wedding going on. Needless to say I didn't enter and I think I avoided the photo. Now the climb begins. During races this segment to Jevington seems to whizz by. I wonder if it will be the same today.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1pdHGhSnvhs/WM09pkYG6SI/AAAAAAAALr8/Z0wqyyPBLds/s1600/1489845613883.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1pdHGhSnvhs/WM09pkYG6SI/AAAAAAAALr8/Z0wqyyPBLds/s640/1489845613883.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So the climb out of Alfriston is done. It wasn't too bad. The below pictures will give an indication for those not familiar with Alfriston. If you are racing in a centurion event then the arc of the climb makes it feel like it goes on forever. One foot in front of the other and it's not so bad. Enjoy the photos. I need to turn off phone for a bit as battery dying.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-58KoR2WSypk/WM1EK1U4nvI/AAAAAAAALsM/ZPuBo201fLs/s1600/20170318_140324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-58KoR2WSypk/WM1EK1U4nvI/AAAAAAAALsM/ZPuBo201fLs/s640/20170318_140324.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wu9z7HbduJo/WM1EL2E_miI/AAAAAAAALsQ/Non4F-QdnHU/s1600/20170318_141017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wu9z7HbduJo/WM1EL2E_miI/AAAAAAAALsQ/Non4F-QdnHU/s640/20170318_141017.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FRxtrrLRoZE/WM1EM8B98CI/AAAAAAAALsU/_d7MOkpTDt4/s1600/20170318_141319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FRxtrrLRoZE/WM1EM8B98CI/AAAAAAAALsU/_d7MOkpTDt4/s640/20170318_141319.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XtdP12z1ib8/WM1ENyDsgTI/AAAAAAAALsY/AFRCCCMxtVs/s1600/20170318_141654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XtdP12z1ib8/WM1ENyDsgTI/AAAAAAAALsY/AFRCCCMxtVs/s640/20170318_141654.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just like that I'm in Jevington. I'm sure there is a time warp between here and Alfriston. Still during a race you will be glad of it. I'm stood by centurion final aid station. It's in the picture below. Sorry but for food you will have to climb the steps. Otherwise press on to Eastbourne. It's only a few miles. That is indeed my next stop. With only 6% battery I will have to finish this blog at the end of the run. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XknHeVIrFmg/WM4-kInaWNI/AAAAAAAALtA/mlS9geq5Tfk/s1600/1489848758605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XknHeVIrFmg/WM4-kInaWNI/AAAAAAAALtA/mlS9geq5Tfk/s640/1489848758605.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So Jevington flew by almost as swiftly as the climb out if Alfriston. At the top is where centurion races leave the downs. I decided to pursue the SDW and then run the promenade back to the harbour. This gave an unexpected opportunity to reminisce on moments from Beachy Head Marathon. The wind picked up as I ran through the golf course. I was holding hope the golfers teeing off were better than i am at swinging a bat. I'm relieved to say they were. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Climbing towards the seafront is an interesting experience. Lots of social people saying hello and enjoying a shared experience of trying not to be blown to Oz. Then i descended off the downs, along the start finish straight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sbcSZyPmIeE/WM5B6A8BHQI/AAAAAAAALtM/-TXYNO13rPE/s1600/20170318_154939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sbcSZyPmIeE/WM5B6A8BHQI/AAAAAAAALtM/-TXYNO13rPE/s640/20170318_154939.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thanks South Downs it was a great day. I trundle along the promenade back to the harbour. I noticed how few people smiled or said hello compared to whilst out on the Downs. This had been an excellent run. A confidence boost towards the upcoming 100milers and a great way to clear my head after a manic few weeks. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The finish was an opportunity to reflect and drink milkshake :) More importantly though the clarity gave me an appreciation of the life I have. I am super luck to have a beautiful a d healthy family and a fitness level that allows me to spend 6 hours out on the Downs. I needed an end of day reminder then checking in on my children after their bedtime story showed me that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy running everyone!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-y_Dnq1apzro/WM5DMXLbylI/AAAAAAAALtY/hKpBNGJ2kQA/s1600/20170318_205651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-y_Dnq1apzro/WM5DMXLbylI/AAAAAAAALtY/hKpBNGJ2kQA/s640/20170318_205651.jpg"> </a> </div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-15928022208198254252017-03-17T09:42:00.001+00:002017-03-17T09:42:14.582+00:00Hello.... it's been a while.<p dir="ltr">So with only about 6 weeks until the start of the grandslam I became very aware that's it's been a while since I have done any meaningful or consistent blogging. Why? The short answer is I have been bloody busy. The more complicated answer is that for a period I have lost focus. Not focus on running. This isn't another blog about mojo.</p>
<p dir="ltr">My focus just generally went. I became so busy that my mind was either overwhelmed by what I hadn't done or what I had yet to do. This was at work, at home and everything else in between. It started to feel a bit like I wasn't living, but with the horrible consequence that I still had lots to do. This in turn meant lots of projects being put on the backburner. Blogging being one of them.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I have 7 blogs half finished. This includes gucr from nearly a year ago. I will get that finished next. I have numerous private contracts on the go and a regular contract that takes up time. Two gorgeous children and a wife who also need quality time. The fact was things were piling up and paralysis setting in. Something had to change.</p>
<p dir="ltr">For me blogging has been a way to not only be accountable, but to stay connected and hopeful post things from time to time that others can relate to. In taking back control everything needed to become purposeful. If that was watching a tv show then that is what would be done. If it's writing a report then that is what would be done. Distraction needed to be parked and I need to act with more purpose. I have left several Facebook groups. Simply I realised I was putting more into them than I was getting out. The negative energy was without a doubt affecting my mental health and yet every time I turned to my mobile device I was looking at the notifications button. That dreaded button became some kind of indicator to my value for the day. What a shit thing to do. I am not and will not be defined by a Facebook thumb, a star? A heart or any other emoji that so global business deem appropriate to associate with popularity.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The only way I could turn things around was to be in control. Changes to tax law and other matters meant a review of finances and how to proceed moving forward, but it was also a time to review actions for the future. I have ended the use of a running coach. Eddie is great and I have learnt so much from her about running and what it means to me. I have learnt what works and what will achieve success. It's now time for me to plan and take ownership of my training in a more exclusive way. I can do this and I will do this. I have rejoiced the gym and been using this to mix my training up. It's a challenge to put my own plan together and stick to it, but the need for focus has been very needed.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I've realised when things are frantic sometimes a run has to take a back seat and at other times it is the essential thing to fix or put my day into perspective.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Generally the Twitter community are a great source of support, jokes etc, but largely because the group I communicate with all have similar interests. It does not have the same negative effect as Facebook where groups have a subject repeatedly bumped to the top by yet another comment. Topics in Facebook stagnate and drive me mad. Similarly the time wasted on mindless tapping of games has probably added up to more than I care to admit.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I'm determined to press on with my running and to limit time I give to stress and worry. I hope that by giving work a limited space I will also free up space for family time and more focus on them. </p>
<p dir="ltr">So from here I am going to press on with things that are helpful to me and enjoyable. This should result in more blogging and more efficient training, but generally a fitter and happier me. Hopefully that will also result in those around me feeling happier.</p>
<p dir="ltr">For all your runners doing a centurion 100 this year do come and say hello; even if we have never met before. Social media should be a conduit for human interaction and not a substitute. I love the ultra running community and catching up with people at races is half the fun. Hopefully you will be saying hello to a fitter, slimmer and happier me. All being well in October you will see me sporting a massive buckle to accompany a suitably sized grin.</p>
<p dir="ltr">More blogs to follow!</p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-59932211795953738182017-01-09T08:45:00.001+00:002017-01-09T08:47:34.336+00:002017 - One Week Down.<p dir="ltr">So with the first weeks training done, there is a long road to TP100. 110 days (at time of writing) until TP100. The biggest task being the need to be grandslam ready. There is no real room for progressive training beyond TP100. With recovery and taper there is perhaps a 2 to 3 week window for purposeful running. These periods are going to need to be about fine tuning. My view is that if you are chasing grandslam fitness beyond TP100 then you won't be finding it.</p>
<p dir="ltr">This first week has been great and with the second week just beginning, there is a long way to go. Strength work today and I think that is going to be key to success. The stronger I am then the better I will cope and the quicker I should recover. Beyond that a healthy diet (bye bye fast food and haribo) and plenty of rest. I currently get no where near enough sleep... must try harder.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So as week 2 begins the motivations high. Now to resist the office Christmas Junk food clear out.... salted caramel mince pie anyone?... seriously!</p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-7965769510769567012017-01-08T09:37:00.001+00:002017-01-08T09:39:33.838+00:002017 - The Road Ahead<p dir="ltr">So after the first week of 2017 is done I am minded to what the next few months will offer up. In reality it will be a lot of hard work and probably repeated tests of will power. I'm ready for that, but with every year there comes the unexpected. It will be those moments that need to be pushed through.</p>
<p dir="ltr">2016 feels like it was a bit of a rubbish year. Truth is that on reflection the first half was pretty epic. I used SDW50 as a training run and gained a 50mile PB. I went on to complete the GUCR in hot conditions and then from there training really slipped. I took a rest and lifted my foot of the gas. But certain behaviours that I told myself were because I was "recovering" fell in to being bad habits. I was eating rubbish food and flippantly consuming whatever sweet substances were available at work. My training became a case of incredibly hit and miss. I knew that whilst I was ticking of mileage, I was missing sessions and not giving strength work the full attention it needed. I began to drift back and settle my weight at the top of end of my too high average. I had not kicked in from GUCR. Training for and completing Grand Union Canal Race had shown me what a runner I had the potential to be. The reality of course being that to achieve those level you have to commit to training, to diet and transform your way of life in to a much healthier one. Where the Grand Union Canal was concerned I had certainly transformed my training, but even then my diet was poor. I had not started that race at a weight that would allow me to achieve a speedy time.</p>
<p dir="ltr">At the end of 2016 I came to realise that work was overtaking life. I was leaving for work at 7am and not returning until 7pm. I was sometimes not seeing my children at all during the day. Politics at work was taking over many of my thoughts and my team were becoming busier and busier, but with no personal benefit to them or my emotional and physical well being. I came to accept that this could not continue. It was time to make some changes. What came next I could not have hoped for much better. I got a possible contract in Huntingdon (15min from home.) This would cut my daily commute down by 2.5hours. It involved a pay cut, but as a family the improvement in quality of life was too good to resist. So I handed my notice in to my current contractor and have been mentally preparing for my new job. I shall be returning to an element of my job that I love and only 0.5mile from my gym; I will be able to resume a purposeful lunch time routine. Since starting this preparation I have been reflecting and realising the impact of long and hefty commutes. This year I had crashed my car due to fatigue and that was the start of me reviewing my position. I always thought the commute was a good way to wind down, the truth being it was winding me up and exhausting me. So as of 16th January I shall be undertaking a new contract and pushing my business forwards. Life is too short to unnecessarily lower ones quality of life. My whole family are excited for the new contract and my children are delighted that I won't be working "where all the traffic is." No more calls to family to say I'm stuck in traffic and will miss bedtime. No more work issues overtaking my time to train. Onwards and Upwards.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So with distractions being removed I have a number of blogs half finished that I shall crack on with. This includes GUCR and Beachy Head Marathon. I will finish them for personal posterity and they will I hope still be of interest to some.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Pressing on this year I have started the year weighing 14st13.1 and my target, through healthy eating and regular training, is 12st. I want to do everything I can to improve my health, well-being and my running in turn. This last week has been one of the most consistent training weeks I have had in months and probably best week since GUCR. I shall blog about more frequently about interesting moments in my training and progress. I am revisiting the Centurion Grandslam this year. After a narrow miss in 2015 (DNF at NDW100 at 75miles) I have had pleasure this year of sweeping final leg of TP100 and A100. Seeing other runners complete their lifetime goals was a huge privilege. I am glad I didn't finish Grandslam in 2015. I was scraping through races and I don't believe would have deserved a giant buckle. This year will be different. I will work my arse off and every finish will be deserved. So focus now turns to TP100 and a sub 24 attempt.... it's going to be a fun ride.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Happy New Year Everyone. </p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-55826305017429918952016-05-21T06:32:00.002+01:002016-05-21T06:41:24.707+01:00Aspire to Inspire. What can be gained from the Mark Vaz Farce.It seems of late the media storm around Mark Vaz has yet to finish running its course (pun intended.) Sadly Mark appears to have been very quiet on the subject. Aside from a few comments thrown into the abyss, that is social media. It appears he has no substantive comment to make. For reasons commented on in depth in my blog titled <a href="http://dan-fattofit.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/sex-lies-and-video-tape-do-ends-justify.html">“Sex, lies and video tape: do the ends justify the means?”</a> I think this is a sad error of judgement on Mark’s part. Given his audacious claims i perhaps should not be surprised at this further error in judgement.<br />
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Many people have questioned whether perhaps there are mental health issues contributing to this bizarre tale, whether it is a man who just got carried away or in some quarters whether he is just a bit of an arse. I don’t propose to offer a comment on that, but what i do find sad is that the charity suffers. They don’t suffer in status, after all anyone can set up a charity page and its not for the charity to check the legitimacy of the challenges the creator is proposing. Where they suffer in this case is that had Mark come forward with the evidence of his run then surely media coverage would be through the roof and no doubt in turn the charitable donations. I think had he come forward and apologised, but explained his reasoning then his donations may still have gone up. Despite some of the audacious counter claims of trolling and abuse, i believe that people are inherently good and would have paid credit to Mark's belated honesty. I also believe even if it impacted on donations, exposing his lies was the appropriate action to take.<br />
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This story has been “newsworthy” amongst the running community and by virtue of the definition of “newsworthy” it must be of sufficient interest to the public. Several years ago i completed a dissertation on the media and this very term. The research showed that generally “newsworthy” is also things that are out of the norm. Sadly in most cases this means the newspapers covering vast arrays of negative and often catastrophic incidents. The shock factor of such incidents generating a high profile response. The presentation of them in the press then only serves to perpetuate the fear or moral panic that such issues are on the rise and we should all fear for our lives. Often the reverse is actually true. I am not suggesting that we should all fear for our lives because of Mark Vaz, but we should not perceive his behaviour as common place. The day we as a society accepts actions like that of Mark Vaz as the norm would be the end of a society i would want any part of. As i have previously commented though when people inspire through lies and shortcuts the negative impact on those inspired can be great. This is why such behaviours should be discouraged. Knowing that Mark had the audacity, just prior to his 'run', to see a child and family involved with Make-A-Wish makes my blood boil. Invariably the parents will likely have followed his adventure and have been hoping to tell their son all about how he finished. I hope she didn’t have to explain to her son the reality. When we invest in people and their challenges and allow ourselves to be inspired then we also run the risk of being let down and disappointed. For people in vulnerable positions this disappointment can have massive ramifications. What stands true is that we all need to be aware of the greater sense of responsibility we have for the words that leave our lips or via our fingers on a keyboard.<br />
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There are so many astonishing and awe inspiring achievements going on in the world that we should be giving greater focus to. It is the courage of the human spirit and people investing time to achieve things others see as impossible that is of greater interest to me. For this reason i would have been much happier to see Mark’s story to have been true, or see him really try and fail, or just have finished in a much longer time. That indomitable spirit would promote far greater inspiration and a much better story to be told. It is a sorry story of the often insecure that they believe world records, course records and fastest known times are the only way to grab attention or inspire people. <br />
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I believe that the vast majority of the running community would want Mark to have genuinely smashed the record and be able to produce the evidence. Look at the positive response to Nicky Spinks and her double Bob Graham Round or the ongoing inspiration of the likes of Mimi Anderson. Ordinary people achieving extraordinary things. I am inspired by these people to continue to make my own positive influence on the world and to better myself and my capabilities. I am inspired by the likes of my wife who looks after my children full time and having suffered with SPD during pregnancy has embraced the challenge of running and is stretching her ability every day. She is inspiring our child and in turn inspiring me. That's the kind of real world inspiration that we should hold on to an seek to replicate. There will always be charlatans, but if we can all focus on inspiring others through positive actions then the charlatans will be seen for what they really are... a sorry minority.<br />
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So moving forward lets ensure we draw out the positives from those who achieve and dare to place themselves outside of their comfort zones. In my blog <a href="http://dan-fattofit.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/tp100-volunteers-perspective.html">TP100 - A volunteers perspective</a> i comment on the trials and tribulations of the back of the pack runners. Simply put you do not have to be winning or particularly fast to show the determination and indomitable spirit that inspires people. Had Mark remembered this then he could have reached and inspired so many more people. For the rest of us though it shows how the masses can have a far greater impact. In the facebook Ultra Running Community alone there are more than 10,000 members. I am sure a vast majority of them have an inspiring story to tell and one that is far more noteworthy than a man who foolishly thought he could drive a van from Lands End to John O’Groats and portray he ran it. Lets not let one man and his delusions detract from the credibility of people stretching their personal boundaries and raising money and awareness of good causes.<br />
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I often myself question when running long events whether to raise money for charity and in the beginning i would, but then started thinking every time i ran a race people might get a little bored about me asking for money. Mark’s story caused me to revisit these thoughts and to try and draw some good from an otherwise rubbish situation. I had been thinking about raising money for Make-A-Wish for some time. Having two young children of my own the concept of them being poorly or worse terminally ill makes me sick to my stomach. The courage such children show in the darkest of days absolutely deserves for their dreams to be rewarded. Such human courage inspires me and i figure if i, or someone else in the world, can then absorb this inspiration and go on to inspire others we can create a perpetual cycle of inspiration; each and every one of us using the inspiration of those around us to go on and do things that inspire and so on and so on. This will promote a positive attitude that has the potential to consume all media platforms in a far more positive way than the actions of Mark Vaz. Perhaps if the likes of Mark Vaz then see the positive reaction the “ordinary” person receives they will not feel the need to find a way to elevate themselves to a position of false superiority. <br />
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Lets promote a mantra of <b>“ordinary people achieving extraordinary things.”</b> Lets focus on those stories. Where issues of lies and deceipt appear then they should be exposed, but lets give them only the time and coverage necessary to do that. This will deter others from taking shortcuts to “fame.” It will also ensure they do not overshadow the positive actions of the majority.<br />
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In my bid to promote the positive i have decided that for my next race i will be raising money for Make-A-Wish. I will not raise money every time i run, but this race has been significant in my life and i think is significant enough for me to seek to raise money for a charity. I am running Grand Union Canal Race on the 28th May. For those that don’t know, this is a 145 mile foot race from Birmingham Gas Street all the way to Little Venice in London. I have been training for this race for the last 10 months. I have invested hours in my training and averaged about 50 miles per week or a total of around 2000 miles of running. I have loved the training, but it has been a challenge at times balancing this with family life (the way many, many others also do.) There will be highs and lows in this race and inevitably a great deal of suffering. No doubt there will be plenty of pictures to demonstrate my suffering. A few people have said to me that running 145 miles is impossible. The truth of course is that running 145 miles is not impossible and many people have run further and faster than i have. Many people will have completed the Grand Union Canal Race far faster than i will. For me though this is a mute point. The fact i can inspire those around me to improve their own lives and stretch their perceptions of what is possible i hope builds in to creating the perpetual cycle of inspiration i referred to earlier. If any children or parents involved with Make-A-Wish see my story and it inspires a child or family to stay strong and fight a little harder then my suffering will be a drop in the ocean. <br />
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If i can raise a small amount of money in addition to promoting the ethos of validating the good and dispensing with the negative then so much the better... “ordinary people achieving extraordinary things.”<br />
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If you would like to sponsor me, or more specifically donate to <a href="https://www.make-a-wish.org.uk/about-us" target="_blank">Make-A-Wish</a> then you can do so by <a href="https://www.justgiving.com/gucr-dan" target="_blank">clicking here</a>.<br />
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Perhaps we can raise some money for a good cause. If this comes out of doing something i love then great. The over riding message really from me is for us all to hold on to remembering that just because one person can so dramatically and publically lie and cheat doesn’t mean the majority of us do. We can all be part of a much bigger and positive picture and inspire each other along the way. Sponsorship for me would be a bonus, but promoting this ideal is the real message from this blog... ASPIRE TO INSPIRE!<br />
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I would love to see more blogs of people doing amazing things and stretching themselves. Reading these things will be a far more enjoyable use of my time than the ongoing saga’s of the likes of Mark Vaz and a far greater facilitator of change. Maybe you have your own story to tell that can inspire and maybe you have your own cause to raise money for and promote the awareness of. That is a far more enjoyable community to be part and a far greater message and example to set our children and others around us. At the time of hitting publish on this blog my little boy has just said "i want to be just like you daddy." When i asked why he said "you are big and strong and make us all happy." That is worth more to me than any course record (obtained honestly or otherwise) and the kind of inspiration we can all provide on a daily basis. If we remember this then the next time a Mark Vaz appears we can be sure to treat them for what they are... a single, sorry individual from within a vast community of genuinely good people.<br />
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Lets keep false idols and lies easily uncovered to a minimum; we will all be happier for it.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-40253603153173374662016-05-16T17:20:00.001+01:002016-05-16T17:20:42.067+01:00TP100 - A volunteers perspectiveVolunteering at the TP100.<br />
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The alarm went off at 1:30am and jumped out of bed with a spring in my step. Ok so lets not start this blog with a lie. The alarm went off i half opened my eyes, grunted, knock my phone off the side and then my wife pushed me out of the bed. With all that said once i was awake i was genuinely excited to make my way down towards Oxford. I had agreed to volunteer at the Thames Path 100 and was excited to be volunteering at Clifton Hampden Aid station (mile 85) and then to be sweeping the final 15 miles of the course. I have never swept a course before so there was some nerves there, but i knew that from my own experiences and battles i would be able to relate to the runners at the back of the pack. It would also be a good chance for me to stretch my legs with Grand Union Canal Race looming, plus a good recce before i revisit the Grandslam in 2017.<br />
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So after a quick coffee and ensuring i had all my kit i made my way out of the door a little after 2am. The beauty of this time of day is that the roads were quiet. It is always a strange concept to think that the runners had been going since 10am the previous days and for some the race was finished and yet for many there was a very very long way to go. Getting closer to Clifton Hampden the sleep demons took over and so i pulled over and got myself a very large cup of coffee. That was all i needed and rejuvenated and now properly awake i made my way on to Clifton Hampden. Upon my arrival the volunteer crew were in full swing. It was quite quiet when i arrived, but new that in the latter stages of the race there would be times where it resembled more a field hospital. It was cold outside and toasty warm inside; great for the volunteers, but bloody awful for the runners. Amongst the volunteers were Claire and Graham Smedley and Cat and Keith Simpson. It was a great opportunity to meet these people in person and not just from behind the mask of social media. Everyone else had already been going for hours, but still full of smiles. I found my way into their rythmn and we were off and running. Such is the community spirt that within minutes of being there i felt like i had been part of the crew for several hours. It wasn’t long before the first of many runners (arriving during my stint) walked through the door.<br />
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The spectrum of emotions on a 100 mile race is massive. We saw everyone of them at Clifton Hampden. Some runners charged in and charged out, happy but focused. We saw other runners struggling to stay positive, but willing to push on. We had injuries and we had people whose minds simply fell out of the game and they could not get back in it. Having ran the race in 2015 i remember arriving at this aid station cutting it close to the wire and in turning powering out the door. I now remember why. Runners who stayed too long became acutely aware of how much nicer it was to be warm and this in itself finished them off. It is always a huge priviledge to play a small part in other people’s races. The dedication and commitment needed to run a 100 miles is enormous and at mile 85 most people are approaching the need to draw on their reserves. One runner arrived at the aid station panicked he could not get home in under 24 hours. A previous 21hour 100 mile runner he had severely underestimated the challenge of a flat course and was running close to the wire. He could still have got under the time, but after 40 minutes walking up and down the hall he left the aid station only to return and then subsequently retire. After this there was a serious of runners who were spurred on by rounds of encouragement and positive vibes. I am very proud of the team and knowing we got several people back out the door who told us they were going to quit. They didnt and i later discovered that everyone who had said “i am done” and went on to leave our aid station did indeed get a buckle. This may have been more to do with the injection of caffeine we gave them, but hopefully our support also motivated them.<br />
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For me there were a couple of very special moments and one DNF that really got me. There was Steven who came into the station looking shattered and relatively unwell. We provided him a cup of coffee and he promptly fell asleep. After setting a timer on my phone i went to check on him and hand another cup of coffee to him. To my relief after he woke it appeared his head had got back in the game. He got up and left the aid station and powered on to the end. During my entire Saturday and then whilst at the aid station i had been tracking Mark Thornberry. I first met Mark at Beacons Ultra and have since ran along the Downs with him. Mark was in the grandslam, but had been struggling from the outset with knee and foot pain. Mark is a great guy with substantial determination, but i could see he was flagging. After a few hours between updates he trudged up the path to the aid station. I am sure he wont mind me saying that he looked a broken man. I could see that Mark’s mind was leaning towards a DNF. We set about a military operation that had been fine tuned with other runners. I sat Mark down, Claire got him a coffee and then we spoke about the issues. Mark told me he hurt and his feet were in bits. At this point the aid station was looking like a field hospital and it therefore seemed apt to get the “medi kit.” In this case some kinesio tape, padding and gauze. I removed Mark’s socks and expected to fined the feet falling of his ankles, but they were not too bad save for a couple of blisters. I think what had happened was Mark had bruised his feet. I taped up the blisters, covered his feet in padding, shoved his socks back on and basically told Mark to “sod off.” I didn’t want to see him again. The last reference being that i knew it would not be long before i would start sweeping the course. We went through a routine that was well established with other runners. I reminded Mark not to undervalue the short sections of running. 10 metres of running every 50 metres soon adds up. Mark ran out of the aid station looking determined. For all those who questioned their resolve and ability to finish let me tell you Mark finished. Mark has not been running Ultras all that long. Mark is in his mid 50’s. Being old is a state of mind and Mark’s attitude reminded me further of that on this day.<br />
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The drama was far from over. As we began to approach the cut off their were families crewing for wives, husbands, children, grandparents etc. A few times they told me that they did not think their runner could finish and what should they do. Mine and Graham’s response.... “LIE”. They will finish and even if there is a chance they don’t if you tell them your doubts then the DNF is likely to become inevitable. We had runners in great spirits, runners dead on their feet and one runner who looked like she was about to punch her pacer square in the face. Fatigue does strange things to people. The drama ramped up at about 7am when it looked like we were going to run out of coffee. An SOS call went out and thankfully as we counted down 4 cups left, 3 cups left.... 2 .... with literally one cup left coffee arrived at the aid station. Panic over we continued to support the runners. The sun was up and things were beginning to warm up. <br />
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Marc then arrived into the aid station with an enormous crew all determined for him to finish. His mind was gone and it seemed he had talked himself into a DNF. Claire and i tried to tag team and get him out the door. This had worked up to this point for no less than 7 or 8 runners, but not this time. He shared some deeply personal reasons for why he was running the race. These are not for me to share, but safe to say i know how much the DNF would hurt him the following day. Sat down for so long he perpetuated his own belief in not being able to finish as he siezed up. Marc’s friends came back into the hall to help him to the car. They had waited outside whilst we tried to convince him to carry on. Watching them carry their fallen friend out of the hall reminded me what i love about this sport. There is too much shit in this world, too much panic about our status and whether we are accepted, too much pressure of bills and survival rather than living. Well in the moments of a 100 mile race i find myself in a space where i feel most alive, the most free. As a volunteer watching these friends carry Marc to his car i felt that same sense of living and freedom. Humans are at their core inherently good and in challenges like this those characteristics rise to the top. Next time i am sure Marc’s friends will be lifting him onto their shoulders at the finish line.<br />
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With a matter of 20 minutes of so before the cut off Andy plodded up the path. He was with his wife and declared the infamous words “i’m done.” They were also met with the automatic response of “sod off.” I told him that he had to come into the hall and let us check he is ok first before we could take his number. This of course was a complete an utter lie. Both Claire and i could quickly see that Andy was far from done. We talked through the race and the fact he had “only” 15 miles to go. With discussions of the fact he was going to hurt tomorrow regardless and would he not rather this was with the sense of success and a buckle to show for it. A few minutes of pep talks and calculating the minutes per mile that were needed to average for a finish and we could see ... belief returning. I told him i would be sweeping and if i didnt think he could make it i wouldn’t let him go. After all if i got him there just after the cut off Nici Griffin and Natasha Fielden would kill me. I had guaged in this short moment that Andy just liked to be told how it was and his wife was clearly of the same mindset. So i decided to ask Andy a crucial question. He pepped himself to answer really seriously. The conversation went thus:<br />
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Dan: Does it hurt when you run<br />
Andy: Yes<br />
Dan: Does it hurt when you walk<br />
Andy: Yes<br />
Dan: Well fucking run then<br />
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At this point Andy burst into laughter and the dark cloud over his head evaporated, his words were “FUCK IT” and up he stood, went to change into cooler clothes and with 7 or 8 minutes left to cut off he was out the door. Andy had the perfect support from his wife who basically ranted postive thoughts at him and was no doubt far more instrumental in him carrying on than any of us at Clifton Hampden were. <br />
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So the time ticked down and i knew the second phase of my role was about to begin. I didnt think i would be as nervous as i was, but suddenly i felt a huge responsibility to the runnners and the race. I changed into my running kit and thanked my fellow aid station members and plodded along the route. It really was a glorious day and i was now feeling the priviledge of sweeping the final leg. I just hoped that those runners i had convinced could finish were not going to be found scattered along the path or dnf’d at a subsequent aid station. Stopping intermittently to remove tape and signs i was aware that the runners would have a little bit of time before i caught up to them. I was about 3 miles in when my bonus experience of the weekend occured. I stopped to take off a piece of tape from in a tree. Holding off from swearing about needing to climb through the stinging nettles as i saw a young child in ear shot. The child started asking me what i was doing. Keen to spread the word about our sport and the event i started to tell him all about the race. His father seemed genuinely interested and started asking all sorts of questions. He seemed very familiar, but i had only had 3 hours sleep. After a short conversation I politely said “you are Matthew Pinsent?” to which he politely said “i am.” I then did the very un-British thing of asking for a photograph and he kindly permitted. One of my sporting heroes and a British legend had just made my weekend. Of course at the end of the race when i recounted my chance meeting to Nici Griffin the response i got was “who?” Guess he should have won a 5th Olympic gold then he might have been more well known ;) Anyway i said goodbye and pressed on down the trail. <br />
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As i ran on along the trail i knew the last 15 miles are very runnable and i could see a runner in the distance. In my mind i thought it would be Andy I looked at my watch and did some calculations. Yep he was on track to finish, but it would be close. I got closer and quickly realised it was another runner and not Andy. Even better for him as he must have really sped up. I approached the runner who i later learnt was Garfield I asked him if he would like some company or whether he would like me to hang back. I was minded that a fresh running gently jogging next to you may be more disconcerting for some. He politely asked if i could hang back while he focused and so hang back i did. We plodded along the trail under glorious skies. I would keep an eye on my watch and the time that was ticking away, but Garfield kept a steady march on. I was very impressed by his relentless and consistent pace. I fell into a rythmn of hold back, stopping to collect some tape and/or rubbish (general public rubbish not runners) and then jog back to my holding distance. As we approached the mile 91 checkpoint i caught up to Garfield and told him what a great job he had done on pace and that at this rate he would make the finish. Simple maths is no ones strong point after 91 miles and so Garfield seemed assured of the gain he had made to the cut off time. <br />
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At the 91 mile checkpoint there was two runners contemplating dropping at mile 91. 91....91.... sod off!!! You dont have 9 miles left and flipping well drop; not without a very good reason and being tired is not a good reason. So Garfield marched out of the aid station a little bit before Chrissie had darted out of the aid station. Phil got to his feet in two minds. I told him that all he had to do was stick with me and we would get under the finish with time to spare. Phil agreed and on we plodded. I didn’t tell him at the time, but i was pretty nervous. I had encouraged him to get up and now was invested in his finish. We chatted a bit and Phil shared he had not finished a 100 miler before. I repeated that he would finish this one. Phil seemed less confident and truth be told at the pace we were moving we would finish in 28 hrs and 7 minutes. Simple maths is much easier with only 6 miles in your legs.<br />
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I decided to risk seriously pissing Phil off. I figured that he would thank me later even if he decided i was a dick. I started talking about not underestimating the importance of running even short distances and that when he wanted to start walking to just press a little more. We then also discussed walking with purpose. To Phil’s enormous credit he took this on board and his pace went up and he was moving with purpose. I kept drilling these thoughts home amongst our other conversations and the eta began to come down. We were on 28hours 3 minutes. Still not enough so i gave another push and suggested we chase downGarfield so that we could all run together. Phil pressed on and held some good running. We crossed over the lock and carried on towards the next checkpoint. With steady walk running the pace was still good... eta 28 hours 1 minute... Over the next mile Phil caught up to Garfield Who asked what pace he needed to be doing. I decided it was time for honest y and so i explained to them both they needed to keep pressing on.... eta 27hours 54 minutes... both were getting to a good place, but one bad mile and it could be blown. I knew that the next aid station was approaching and sure enough Mark who i had met last year, when i was the runner trying to avoid the cut offs, appeared. He was offering superb encouragement to the runners. I started prepping them to think about what they wanted from the aid station. They didnt have time to hang around a matter of 8 minutes and they would be timed out. Phil and Garfield were both getting that adrenalin kick that being so close to home brings. Both whizzed in and out of the aid station. I went to go with them and then the horror news that we were missing one runner... Chrissie. Damn it she had headed off just before us, but we had definitely not overtaken her. I tracked back through my mind and the only place she could have gone wrong was crossing over the river. As it later transpired she had gone straight on, rather than crossing the bridge, before realising her error. She arrived a matter of two minutes after the cut off time for the aid station. I was so impressed with the efforts of the centurion staff who tried to contact her on her phone. When we realised she was missing the military operation to locate her was intense. I could imagine Chrissie realising her error and trying to press on to get to the aid station. I am gutted for her that she could not make it and i am sure that she herself would have had that massive sense of frustration and blind panic. Sadly as well when an error occurs at that point the sweeper has removed the tape. I remember myself missing a turning in 2015 and only just getting back to a bridge before the sweeper removed the tape. I am sure Chrissie will be back to rectify the DNF.<br />
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Once the cut off time passed i pressed on down the trail. The lapse in time meant i had the chance to pick up the pace for about ¾ mile at 8minutes per mile. I could see that the rutted land of the previous year was in much better condition and i was pleased for the runners. Soon enough i could see the runners in the distance. They were being consistent and had built up some time again on the cut off. By my calculations they were on for a 27hr45min finish. Yep my 2015 finish time. I was nervous and excited for them and then very guilty for the stress i must have put my friends and family through the previous year... sorry. What was impressive was the support the runners were offering to each other to drive on over the last 4 miles.<br />
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I passed through the gate and caught them up. Phil and Garfield were now joined by Ian and they were pressing on. Phil and Garfield appeared to have replaced their self doubt with an all consumed sense of self belief. They pressed on with the walk run strategy. Sadly Ian was clearly grinding this out. I could see he was slowing, but he was too close at this point to be crossing the line behind schedule. So i started my “risk pissing him off tactic”, after all it had worked for Phil. At this point it was for the greater good. Ian was zoning out and in doing so slowing down. New calculation was a finish of 27hr 52. The pace was slowing and Ian’s head was dropping. I encouraged him to run where ever he could and Ian summoned up the energy to run, but with every run i could see him suffering a little more. 27hrs 56 would be our finish and i could not see a way to avoid this, but i knew that if Ian could just press for a little longer then he would have a safe finish. Come on Ian not too far to go. About 2.5 miles to go and we would be done. I reminded Ian he had come too far to time out. Estimated finish time had slipped to 28hrs 2mins. Shit i did not want to have to tell Ian this and then the question came, “how am i doing?” My response was not a lie, but i may not have been entirely honest in saying “Lets just be safe and press the pace a bit and expand our running.” Ian didn’t question me and i could see every running step was causing pain. I encouraged him to drink, but i think his brain was focused on one foot in front of the other. We were not too far now from the paved path. The sun was shining and plenty of people were out. Ian must have asked me four or five times how far to go. I knew we were close and in spite of his pain he was clawing time back. The clock would be close, but we would make it if Ian kept his walk run up. Then there was the bloody lovely bridge. I remember it well from my own Race and there in an act of deja vu was Drew. He told Ian just how close he was. It was a pleasure to see Ian’s family and they looked so relieved to see he would finish. I was tracking social media and could see Nici was counting down the runners left out on the field. Ian was the last one and knowing he would make it was a great feeling. Ian through his suffering got the honour of closing out the show. We had now grafted out the time and Ian could walk it in over the last few hundred metres. The clock ticked as we turned on to the grass. I stepped back and Ian broke in to a run to the finish and crossed with about 4 minutes to spare. A heroic effort and one i was chuffed to see. His spirit and determination will live with me for my own future races.<br />
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So that was the race finished. At the finish line i could see all the shattered but elated runners. Each and every one not regretting for a second the decision to get up and leave Clifton Hampden. Flipping heck was that really only 4 hours prior. It felt like days ago. I was about to catch up with Jon and Natasha Fielden and then i saw Andy, I had known him and his wife for a matter of 10 minutes of our lives and yet a hug seemed the only way to express our mutual joy for the guts he showed to stand up and be counted. Then through the crowd of runners i could see Mark. Such an emotional moment where he gave me a knowing look and just pointed. I pointed back at him and went over to share a hug, with a tear in my eye. I saw the pain this guy had been in and the challenge he had faced; A bloody heroic performance from Mark had seen him finish well under the cut off. I have every faith that this near miss will stand Mark in good stead for collecting his grandslam award. Wandering around the finish this was the first time i had been at the finish of a 100 miler and not been the one dead on my feet. I caught up with Phil and a few others who i had played a very small part in their days. I can say confidently that not a single one regretted carrying on and pressing to the finish. A firm reminder that even the darkest moments never last forever, but they make the triumph all the sweeter.<br />
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I absolutely loved the role i was given in this race and can say that to date this is the most fun i have had at a race. This includes the races where i have been running as a competitor. I looked forward to volunteering at the South Downs Way 100. The South Downs is the route i know the best and if i get the good fortune of sweeping again i would absolutely be thrilled to support runners in making it down “death gulley” and onto the infamous track. If you are running SDW100 and dont yet know what “Death Gulley” is well.... thats another adventure that waits to be told.<br />
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-57877389201736538702016-05-10T21:33:00.004+01:002016-05-10T21:33:58.860+01:00Sex, lies and video tape: do the ends justify the means?Sex, Lies and Video Tape: Is it ok to lie for the greater good?<br />
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I admit that until a couple of days ago i had never heard of Mark Vaz. Perhaps that is to my own discredit, but the fact of the matter is i did not know his name. I did not even know that he was attempting the astonishing feat of running from Lands End to John O’Groats. The added fact he was attempting to take on the course record means i am further surprised that i had not heard of him. This record has stood for 16 years and regarded as a record that would stand potentially for decades. <br />
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The UK Ultra Running community is really supportive and also likes to gossip; so it was unusual to hear this had happened completely under the radar of a vast number of experienced runners. In the time that has since unfolded it is seriously questionable that Marks audacious claim of 7 days 18hours and a few minutes is true. This record would have beat the previous record by some 31 hours. This would undoubtedly make Mark currently the best UK Ultra Runner and one of the best in the world. Highly unlikely someone that would not have been heard of before by a large cohort of the Ultra Running circuit would be capable of this. It would be the ultimate Rocky storyline. Sadly it appears that this questionable run is beginning to unravel before Mark’s eyes and there is no Rocky script to be played out on the big screen. It seems far closer to a Walter Mitty spin off.<br />
Gary Kiernan wrote an article for www.run247.com. In this article it highlights the questionable nature of the run and the improbability of the claims being staked. Richard from Beyond Marathon has also noted that the facts of the matter are Mark would have had to run 156 miles in a little over 24 hours having already ran 600 miles. This calculation is taken from Mark’s very own social media publications. Both Gary and Richard have welcomed the opportunity for Mark to prove his claims and from Gary’s perspective a right of reply on www.run247.com . For someone who wanted to promote the charity and inspire others he has gone remarkably silent. There has been no offer of explanations or evidence. The closest has been a picture of a garmin forerunner 305 and a facebook comment that he would provide the total distance of his run once he had added it all up. These facebook posts appear to have been subsequently deleted (or i am now blocked from viewing them.)I may be a jaded cynic, but if you plan such a feat and are doing it for charity then on both stages you publicise the shit out of it. You want the world and his wife to know what you are doing. The act of globalisation means that the world is now literally your stage if you want it to be. It seems to me that Mark over reached, wanting to be a player on a stage that he hadn’t even auditioned, let alone rehearsed for. Mark made a statement, a proclomation and it backfired. He started with stating he would break the record and complete it in 8.5 days and then smashed this further. At the point the mirror was turned on him the blackout has started. Calling those who question him trolls and seemingly indicating to provide evidence is more hassle than its worth appears to be very much out of character for someone who has been invested in promoting a charity and running over 830 miles. The whole affair does not add up. I can determine a logical outcome based on an assessment of the known facts. On this basis sadly Mark is lying and the his time is nothing but fictitious. We can skirt around this view point, but to do so is simply sitting on the fence and offers up ambivalence. Mark can correct this by offering a collation of evidence and then further backing this up by taking anyone of a number of race directors offers to run their events (after all if he can smash a 16 year old record his presence at races will be, i’m sure, in demand.) <br />
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With extreme records comes extreme scrutiny and Mark must have anticipated this. I suspect he probably thought it was an obscure record that only a small handful of people would ever hear he had claimed to beat. Deferring sending evidence of his other “achievements” to Guiness World Records further perpetuates the myth; after all on this basis his records have not yet been refuted, but... and this is key... neither have they been validated. I feel for those duped by Mark and i am sure it will be hard for them to realise the truth, but i believe it is important the truth does come out. Mark can remedy the situation in a second. I always tell my children to be honest and say sorry when they have done something that the should not have done. I never say there wont be consequences, but that i will respect them. In an odd sort of way the same applies to Mark. In the face of such vehement anger and disbelief if he comes forward and explains and apologises then i will respect that and hopefully we can support him to realise that offering up your best is more important than fabricating the unachievable. Conversely if he demonstrates the proof then wow... i mean seriously amazing stuff, but i repeat my very firm position that he did not achieve what he claims. His silence should not be accepted as “avoiding the trolls.” He has made a bold claim and now has a responsibilty to that claim. Interestingly that at the time of writing this he has further locked his facebook status. As early as Lunch time today many of his posts were public and this included a post showing the time of his alleged completion of LEJOG. As of now you can see none of these posts. Such a silence is more than defensive. It strikes of a manner of building walls around himself in the hope that people will almost ignore his claim and go away.<br />
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So the real purpose of my musings is this... Does it really matter that Mark has lied (my assertion), who really cares? My simple answer is Yes it matters and we should all care and it. When you set out to inspire others you set a chain of events into motion that you are responsible for. I dont really care that he had endorsements and provision of kit. At the end of the day anyone who has endorsed Mark will make their own determinations on this whole affair. Where my gripe comes is what message does he send to those he “inspires”? These ramblings are not directly to Mark in isolation, but to every cheat on the planet who thinks its ok and no one got hurt.Some may say that Make A Wish have received a large number of donations and so no one got hurt. In this case the end cannot justify the means. On their website Make A Wish state “We can’t grant wishes without people like you.” They go on on their website to say the following:<br />
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<i>We go above and beyond to grant very special wishes to very special children; their dreams made a reality at a time when they need it most.<br /><br />Because a child’s life shouldn’t be about illness, hospitals and diagnosis – it should be about wonder, joy and hope.<br />We’ve seen the effects a wish can have on a seriously ill child: from creating incredible memories, building confidence and bringing happiness, to providing respite from the daily struggles that come with a life-threatening condition. <br />We know what wishes can give, and this is the driving force behind why we continue to do what we do.</i><br />
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I love this sentiment and whole heartedly agree. As a parent the thought of losing my children makes my head spin and stomache churn. The courage children with life limiting illnesses show is way beyond enduring the pain or i may experience running. Yet strangely the battles of the ordinary provides inspiration to people to keep fighting. For children and their families the knowledge that others care enough to take on amazing feats, pushing themselve to their limits and showing the impossible can be achieved is often an inspiration to keep fighting their own demons and illnesses. If even one person is inspired by something i or others do and this gives them the energy to fight a little harder, or a little longer then i am overwhelmed and priviledged that we get to help in that way. The same sentiment applies to Mark and others who claim to inspire, but in reality cheat. The consequence to those invested in his journey, when they realise the only way it was achieved is in a shroud of deceipt, may be catastrophic. Their own self believe may extinguish and the desire to fight that little harder may be lost.<br />
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We as human beings must not underestimate the Butterfly effect of our actions. The action to promote awareness and inspire carries a responsibilty for the better or the worse. If we lose faith/hope then all of us lose something in our ability to dream and believe in achieving the impossible. The world for me would be a lot poorer for that loss of hope and belief. I for one want to put in the sweat and the graft and know that what ever end results i get are because i earnt them. I want to show my children and those around me that you get what you give. I want those around me to know i try to be the best i can be. I want to be inspired by my friends and in awe of their dedication. The end results are a side product and not particularly the key element that inspires. I think this is where people like Mark get confused and i hope i am correct in this assertion. Posting a finish time is not what impresses. For the Ultra Community a well documented effort of struggle and determination would have inspired us all that little bit more. Our jaws would have dropped if the time claimed was evidenced, but outcome regardless we would have stood united to applaud an amazing effort. It is the journey that would have impressed and not the destination. I think this is the point that Mark has lost. That and the fact no one runs the claimed paces in a bomber jacket.<br />
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The future of all sporting achievements rest for me in the tenents of Taekwondo: <br />
• Courtesy <br />
• Integrity <br />
• Perseverence<br />
• Self Control<br />
• Indomitable Spirit<br />
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Sadly in this recent controversy none of these qualities have been shown. I hope that in this particularly case the claim is so ludicrous and so quickly disputed that it will not impact on others faith in theirs and others ability to exercise these qualities. Yet we all know that if you are lied to enough times then distrust becomes ingrained. For the impressionable the act of cheating may be seen to yield rewards that validate the risk and for others it may simply dishearten them into ambivalence. A world full of ambivalent people void of passion and dedication would be a very bleak thing. <br />
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This world needs passion!!! We all need Goals and Heroes! Children need to believe those they see as heroes have superpowers. Children like those involved with Make A Wish need to believe that the impossible is possible. These emotions and beliefs are more important than a donation figure on a just giving page or personal charitable donations. When we lie, cheat and deceive (whatever the reason) we risk taking away the belief in ‘magic’ from people. That can never be a good thing and as such the end can never justify the means. For me therefore the greatest act of courage now would be for Mark to come forward and provide all evidence for scrutiny, or acknowledge and apologise for the lie he has professed. I believe he has lied (until i am convinced otherwise.) I would therefore suggest if he wants to inspire others the greatest act of bravery would be now not to hide away from social media, but to embrace it and tell the truth. I am sure in that act he would inspire more people than the proclomation of an unknown average runner taking down a 16 year old record believed by many to be largely untouchable. What ever happens the passion of the Ultra Running Community rallying round to ensure that the genuine record is not at risk and having the desire to promote integrity keeps my faith in humanity. <br />
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Step forward Mark as everyone deserves to know the truth. I urge others not to resort to mud slinging and remember what this is really about. Upholding our own integrity has to be also be ensured whilst seeking to challenge the ridiculous claims. If Mark comes forward then he can show children its ok to believe and that when you make a mistake its ok to say sorry.<br />
<br />Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-33549827938480550522015-11-09T08:13:00.000+00:002015-11-09T09:08:23.150+00:00Autumn 100<br />
As someone who blogs regularly about races it was a first for me not to write a blog after North Downs Way 100. Why didn’t I? In part because i DNF’d, but more specifically because i had nothing new to say on the subject. I was on for the Centurion Running Grandslam, the day had been relentlessly hot, I stumbled in the dark, turned my anke and DNF’d at 76 miles. Yes there is more substance to the day than that, but in essence that was my race. The DNF was the right call for me, but could it have been avoided? Totally! So rather than write a blog to justify the DNF and how i would learn from it, I wanted to actually reflect, get strong and then comment with substance.<br />
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So after NDW i looked closely at my running right through from training to racing. The stress points for me and my family, but further what was i doing wrong? You might consider the fact that I had already finished two 100 hundred milers this year an indication that I wasn’t really doing anything wrong but i knew better than this. I have always gone into races feeling ok or like can scrape through. Stubbornness can get you a long way... A really long way, but for me it was starting to taint my joy of running and in turn my motivation. It was time to try something new and for me that was a running coach.<br />
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Firstly let me be clear that I have always been highly sceptical of running coaches. On the way to South Downs Way 100 I had that very conversation with Bryan Webster about how expensive they are and not being sure i could justify the cost. I could not really see what they could input into my running that I could not offer myself. It seemed someone else was going to tell me to run. Well yes i could do that. Granted that is a slightly simplistic summary of my initial thoughts on coaching, but it gives you the idea. After NDW I was a little dejected, but more out of frustration with myself. I had not run enough in the build up to that race. It really was that simple. When push came to shove i was not strong enough. I decided to speak to a few people who I know that have used or use coaches and those who have not and would never. I had a pretty balanced analysis of the option.<br />
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Just before North Downs Way 100 I took the decision after speaking to a good friend of mine, Nici Griffin, to have an initial call with Edwina Sutton. I had been following Nici’s running journey and despite her own complaing ;) I was impressed with the support and plans that Eddie would create for her. I was really impressed with Eddie when I spoke to her, but still slightly undecided before NDW. I spoke with her again after the race and I was convinced.<br />
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After 5 minutes into my post NDW conversation with Eddie I was sold on the benefit of coaching and that this was something I should definitely try. Eddie was fab and reassured me that really it was just consistency that was the key. She was sympathetic about my DNF, but accepted my own acknowledgement and ownership of this without trying to massage my ego (dont have Eddie as your coach if you want your Ego massaging.) I felt reassured by Eddie and unpressurised: more importantly i felt motivated. There was still part of me that queried whether the novelty of coaching would be a fad, with that said it was something I had not tried before and i figured would be worth a shot.<br />
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Fast forward 8 weeks from the conversation and i find myself on the phone to Eddie the night before Autumn 100. This time I am talking to her well and truly as my running coahc. My training up until this point has been consistent for the 8 weeks. I had noted progress in myself and my attitude towards running. Further i felt more able to mentally dial into a run. I had a good understanding of what my comfortable pace felt like and what the messages from my brain were really telling me. It had been stressed to me by Eddie throughout that consistency is key. I have trained with that attitude and even with a 2 week holiday in Florida i had managed to run and more less to a plan during that time. I can confidently say that over 8 weeks i ran the most consistently i have ever run and put some really good sessions together. I had also had some really positive strength sessions and on the whole was feeling stronger. So there i was talking to Eddie about the goals for the race and how best to achieve them. I have to say i love Eddie for this. From a family perspective she is about a year or two on from me and so has a very real understanding of the demands of family life and the balance to be found. My wife i think has also noticed the difference as well. It means my training is realistic, challenging, progressive and consistent. I am no longer sitting on the sofa saying “i should have run” and then spending hours procrastinating over how far I will run later or the following day. The added bonus of Eddie as a coach is I can’t message her and say i haven’t trained without a good reason. You can picture the scene of me texting her and trying to come up with a good excuse, knowing that she has not long had her third child and is still training. I think I would rather make sure I got my run in.<br />
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So during my conversation with Eddie I was absolutely ready for the race and excited. I had no excuses (apart from jet lag) and felt able to give this race a good crack. In Eddie’s words the plan for this race were “to finish with a big cheesey grin.” In addition i was to eat 500 calories at every aid station and constantly ask myself how i was feeling and adapt wherever required. We agreed that pace was irrelavent and i was absolutelly not to look at pace on my watch. I confess to being one of those historically that can get consumed by minutes per mile. This one would be a challenge but i was prepared to go with it. The final point was all too crucial and that was to remember we do this for fun and enjoy it. I was touched by Eddie informing me that she had been looking into trying to come and run with me for a bit. She couldn’t make the logistics work, but with a young baby i fully appreciate even the consideration. I pointed Eddie in the direction of the Racedrone app that I woudl be using and mentally added her to my list of stalkers for the race.<br />
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With a start time of 10am this race has the perfect location for me. I was able to stay at my sister and brother in laws with the family. I got a good night sleep and on the morning of the race my wife drove me over to the start. Registration was its usual smooth Centurion process. Over the years the number or runners I know has grown massively and by the time I had my race number my wife had asked me if i knew every single runner in the room. Of course i didn’t but there times when it feels like this. After dropping of my bag I bid the wife farewell and started mentally preparing for the race. I had agreed to speak to a guy from Radio Five and where a GO Pro for Audio recording. His day had obviously started worse than mine as her forgot the GO Pro’s. In truth I was a little relieved as less worrying about swearing now. I had a chat with him about why I run these types of races and it had the added bonus of getting me even more excited about the race. I really love the 100 mile races and the adrenaline in the atmosphere. I made my way to the start and caught up with friends. Some were going for the Grandslam, others were going for super fast times, whilst others were aiming for their first 100 mile finish. The thing we all had in common was an enjoyment of getting to experience this together. The weather for the race was pretty much perfect. No forecast for rain and the ambient temperature was very pleasant for running in a t-shirt.<br />
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So I lined up at the start and knew i would see everyone again at least once. The beauty of this race and something that i think makes it very special is the fact it is four out and backs. This means you get to see the front runners coming back and also encourage runners that you may be ahead of. It was nearly time for the off and I had inadvertently found myself near the start of the race. As good as my training has been I am not yet a front runner. So after a catch up with Sam Robson I stood ready to get going knowing that this would be the only time David Barker would be behind me during the race. I spoke with Sam Clack from Radio Five again and happily agreed to chat to him later. I could see he was being absorbed by the atmosphere of the race and at this moment everyone in Goring was part of the affair. James Elson gave his speach and confirmed who the Race Directors were for this weekend. James had recently confirmed he would be running. There was some speculation as to whether he would be racing for the win or to experience his event. I maintained my view that if he was running he would have to be running to the best of his ability and thus going for the win.<br />
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The countdown to the start took place 10...9....8.....................3...2...1 and just like that a flurry of runnners were departing Goring for the very first time. I was absorbed in the atmosphere. Two or three runners said hello and I confess to needing a minute to remind myself of who they were. Paul shortly after introduced himself and we chatted for a bit. Friend old and new this was going to be a very special race. I could that the day was going to be great. Plodding along i felt my leg were moving well and I was in a good rythmn. Running alongside the canal it brought back memories of Thames Path 100 and how much more prepared i felt today. There was a brief moment where I felt it was a shame that it was not for the Grandslam, but I knew i needed to run this race for me. I looked ahead of me a few miles in to see Bryan Webster. I have known Bryan for a few years now and would consider him a good friend. He is normally much faster than me, but I thought it would be fun to share 20 to 30 minutes together, whilst I was feeling good. Of course he would dart off into the distance and finish 5 to 6 hours ahead of me. I think it is fair to say what happened over the rest of the race suprised us both. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uHwBbPYF5rU/VkBFl82LuPI/AAAAAAAABbc/-xg6Ojl2CXQ/s1600/IMAG2068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uHwBbPYF5rU/VkBFl82LuPI/AAAAAAAABbc/-xg6Ojl2CXQ/s320/IMAG2068.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perfect morning on the Thames Path</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Running through the first Aid station and onto the end of the first half of spur 1 the time seemed to be passing really quickly. Bryan and I were running well. We both stuck to our plans and occassionally he would disapppear and then I would catch him up. As I hit about mile 10 the lead runners came blaring past in the other direction. They all looked really comfortable, some in their own world and others giving a cursory “well done” or “keep it up.” This was all except for one, a certain James Elson. In about 8th at this point he screamed “looking great Dan, awesome effort.” He looked ridiculously comfortable, was chasing the win in his own race and yet still found that moment to briefly become engrossed in my race and not his. This is why i love Ultra Running and the Centurion Family. Soon after this I could see a mass of runnners and it suggested to me that the Aid station could not be far. Sure enough there was the Aid station and with a quick grab and run i left armed with food (remembering Eddie’s instruction of 500 calories) and a sense that i was in control. At this point Phil Hall was just ahead of me and seemed to be in a good run/walk strategy of his own. The running conditions were good, i was in a rhythm and had covered this part in a little over 2 hours. A real highlight as to why I was not looking at pace. Previously if i had been on this pace i would have slowed down and convinced myself it was too fast. In truth previously it would have been, but today it felt comfortable so i went with it. I was falling into a run for 15-20 minutes and then walk for 5. This gave me enough time to feel I had a break and also feel like I had a good chunk of running covered. The strategy was certainly eating into the distance.</span><br />
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Bryan had run ahead about 10 minutes before i hit the checkpoint and i assumed that he was long gone. It was to my surprise that i saw him again at about mile 14. He was approaching the road crossing and just ahead of him I saw Ashley Hurd dart across the road. I half expected the screach of tyres, the pause of Suunto’s and Garmin’s everywhere as we scraped him off the road. Thankfully it must have been my perspective as he had made it across the road fine and was running into the distance. Bryan and I started running again. After about another mile we chatted about training and plans. I noted I was just out to enjoy it and see what happened. We were both feeling good and Bryan acknowledged that i was obviously stronger than at NDW. I really felt it. Yes my legs could tell that at this point I had run 16 or so miles, but I felt like it was a sustainable pace that i could keep going for a good while yet and so I plodded on. I decided this was not a race where i was chasing times so i would take some pictures and send some tweets. It was turning into a bloody beautiful day. At about mile 20 Bryan was a little ahead of me. It seemed my run/walk strategy was working well and I was holding pace with him. This was at least 10 miles further than i would ever have imagined being in contact with Bryan. He was running with Ashley and so i plodded on. Eventually i overtook Phill Hall and gave him some encouraging abuse that i believe included a mild threat of violence if he DNF’d. As we approached a gate that would bring us back on to the bridge into Goring I was back running with Bryan. As surprised as i was he continued with a conversation we had left off about 40 minutes prior and we plodded into Goring together. It was about 4hrs 25 minutes into the race. To put this into context my previous PB for a marathon was 4hrs 35minutes. I definitely felt ok though. I had to run through a mental check to make sure i was not doing anything stupid. I text Zoe to confirm i was ok. I could tell she was a little worried that i was running too fast and that i would be blowing up later in the race. Bryan and i set off on the second leg on the ridgeway. With the woops and cheers of Natasha and Jon Fielden in my ears was feeling confident, but a little apprehensive of the hills that would be awaiting us. “Sod it” i thought. Its all part of the fun and i have nothing to lose.<br />
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Bryan had left just before me with the comment “catch me up.” There was no sarcasm in this comment, i think he genuinely expected that I would catch him up. As i left Goring Allan Rumbles and Chris Mills were in flow of conversation to which i heard “ask him go on” and “no i will ask him at the end”. I simply replied “whatever the question the answers yes.” As i ran off i heard Allan say “i should bloody hope so.” Both clearly on the wind up, but these moments of humour all add to the enjoyment of the day. So on to my first experience of the Ridgeway. It was not long before i was back running wiith Bryan. We made good time and were overtaking runners. I started to realise that a big difference between my running now and before is that i was running on some uphills. Those that know me well will know that i am not normally a fan of hills. Normally Bryan would shoot of into the sunset and this time on one occassion when i broke into a walk on a hill i heard Bryan say “thank fuck for that.” It was clear this was affective mutual support as we pulled each other along the Ridgeway at an efficient pace. Moving through the Aid stations we continued to run together, pull away from each other and soon run together again. Entering into the Aid station that would later be the 46 mile aid station i saw Graham Carter. We had a catch up and then just behind was Phil Hall. Another mild threat of violence if he DNF’d and on i carried. Not long after this James Elson came haring down the Ridgeway. Clearly he was in the lead and moving well. Armed ready with congratulations and encouragement i had no chance to furnish any of it as the shouts of “Legend, LEGEND, LEGEND!” Left James’ lips. I am sure as well that he meant it and that he lavished all other runners with the same encouragement; That or he was high on GU. Nevertheless it left me on a high and i powered along the route. <br />
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Bryan and i were running together again. We came past Richard Stewart down one of the hills. Bryan asked him how long until the aid station? The response was 5 minutes. Well i am sorry Rich but even James Elson would not have made it to that Aid Station in 5 minutes . In fact sod that he would not have made it there in 10 minutes. So it was 20 MINUTES later we arrived at the aid station. We got to the turning point... eventually ;) and made our way back to Goring as the light began to fade. Still feeling like there was running in the legs i was happy that as i moved through mile 40 the race was still enjoyable. I kept to the agreed plan i had made with Eddie and kept reassessing where i was at and ensuring i enjoyed myself. I found this section of the Ridgeway the toughest section of the race. Not because of the climb, but the twist and turns in the paths and the narrow trails. Even with that though i was feeling good and pushing forward.<br />
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By the time Bryan and i entered mile 46 it was dark and i was hungry. Bryan had been joking about getting a cheese and jam wrap. He had been, safe to say, a little perplexed at the choice of combination on the way out. So on the way back he jokingly asked for one from Graham Carter. As with all Centurion Crew Graham dutifullly obliged whilst also making me a jam wrap. I am still not clear to this day whether Bryan felt obliged to eat the Cheese and Jam wrap. I was grateful for my jam wrap. I find it a real struggle to eat bread whilst running, but wraps seemed to be going down a treat. Bryan and i ushered each other out of the aid station. Necking a couple of cups of coke on i went. I had a quick chat with Sam Clack from Radio 5 as he ran along with me through the church yard. I probably spouted a load of tripe to his questions, but he was clearly engrossed in the magic of the Centurion Race Weekend. We chatted for a few minutes in the dark. Sam thanked me and left me to get back to Goring. After some banta from Bryan about being a celebrity, he then piped up with a really pertinent question about Sam... “Did he have a torch?” my response was something along the line of “I aint going back to help him.” Thankfully i saw Sam later so i know he didnt trip on a gravestone.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MwaiYWf4LxQ/VkBF6e4-s1I/AAAAAAAABb0/5KyDeP9YibQ/s1600/IMAG2097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; font-family: sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MwaiYWf4LxQ/VkBF6e4-s1I/AAAAAAAABb0/5KyDeP9YibQ/s320/IMAG2097.jpg" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful sunset</td></tr>
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Approaching Goring i looked at my watch and realised the time still started with a 9. I turned to Bryan to converse on my surprise at the time. Training had obviously gone well, but given my 50 mile PB to date was 10hrs 45, at TP100 i had left the 50 mile point after over 13 hours, SDW 100 afer about 12 and NDW in around 13hours. So here i was approaching Goring as the elapsed time ticked just over 10hours. I phoned home to have a quick chat with the wife. The comment “what the bloody hell are you doing” was met with the reassurance that i felt fine and was not sprinting off. Given my year to date i could see why my wife had been concerned. Allan Rumbles was at Goring and why my back had turned ‘kindly’ brought me a plate of baked beans. As i sat prepping for the second trip on the Ridgeway i was very polite about the beans.... Ok no i wasn’t, but i was only rude to myself. I fucking hate beans... sorry Allan the plate of beans left behind were mine. With that said what was to come made the beans look delightful. I was ready to kill Bryan for the McDonalds that Jonny had left for him. Burger and Fries (BIG TICK), but then we entred “shit shake gate.” I am not sure if it had curdled or whether Jonny just pranked Bryan and wanted him to drink... well a cup of shit. The shake was very much not appetising and Bryan decided against the drink. So off we set back out on to the Ridgeway. I really enjoyed this section. It was hillier than any of the other spurs, but the terrain was very runnable and Bryan and i were working to an estimated time that we had said to Allan we would be back at Goring. The undulating terrain enjoyed its own mind games as we kept thinking about the fact we were going to be running back up those fricking hills.<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4bYI9PDbUek/VkBGBw0u-aI/AAAAAAAABb8/Nqr4u5BAd2E/s1600/IMAG2096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4bYI9PDbUek/VkBGBw0u-aI/AAAAAAAABb8/Nqr4u5BAd2E/s320/IMAG2096.jpg" width="181" /></a>The weather remained cool although the wind started to pick up. The aid stations out on this section were all out in the open and i was keen to get to the turnaround point and back off the Ridgeway. The final hill climb on the way back seemed to go on forever. I am left with little choice but to mention very little of that section as i think Bryan and i just called the climb evey expletive under the sun. Still we got to the final section of descent. Earlier in the day we had seen David Barker here and i remember thinking that it would be nice to get to run down. So Bryan and i picked up the pace and ran back into Goring. So 75 miles done in just over 16hours. As i got my bag and started to prep for the final spur i glanced to my right and realised it David Barker talking to me. What do you mean you are bloody finished. An epic run had seen him home in under 16 hours and even more impressive was James’ sub 15 hour run. Spurred on by their achievements i got myself ready to start the final spur. Bryan left Goring with Allan pacing him. I was given the instruction of “catch us up.” Sounds easy, but with 75 miles in your legs those three little words make for an interesting challenge. One that on this occasion would allude me.<br />
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On the final leg i was tired. I mean really tired. The jet lag was biting and biting hard. I could barely keep my eyes open. I honestly had not started this race with a goal target in mind, but severall comments on twitter had made sub 24 a real possibility. I felt this fading away fast as i struggled to stay awake. Plus i had forgotten how hilly this section of the Thames Path is. Even the trees may have blushed at some of my language. Anyway its a short stretch to the first aid station. As i arrived to the detour point on the path i made my way to the aid stations. Allan and Bryan were leaving. I was still within touching distance, but knew i was slowing. My legs felt ok, but i was really tired. So i necked a coffee and a couple of glasses of coke and powered out of the hall. I had to reassess what i was going to get out of this race. I needed to work out how i was going to continue enjoying this last section and finish in a manner that i was happy with. So i pushed on and in the darkness Sam Robson came flying past. I have known Sam for 15 years and so even in the darkness was able to discern it was him. Sam was going strong and was probably as surprised as i was that i was 80 odd miles into the race already. The next 8.5 miles of the race were the toughest. I knew this section and what was to come, but kept slowing to a cruel. I would have spells of clarity, feel awake and be able to power on at a good pace. Suddenly the fatigue would hit and i would be all over the place. I sat against a bulding and closed my eyes for two minutes. I rested against a tree for two minutes and on three occasions i rested my head on a gate for a minute. Yes all this time would really help me feel wide awake (sense the sarcasm). Then i would have a lucid period and question what the fuck i was doing. I mean all i really did in this spell was waste probably 15 to 20 minutes on the route to Reading. Worst still my mind warped back to Goring where i could visualise the bottle of Mountain Dew and can of Red Bull in my bag. How the bloody hell had i rushed out and left them behind. It gets better though as when i unpacked my bag a few days after the event i realised i had pro plus still in my pack. So the mind was knackered and i had forgotten about or left behind all my caffeine options. Bryan and Allan soon came past me. I was about 5 or 10 minutes out from the Aid station and so not that far behind at this point. The bridge i had been waiting for appeared and this meant the Aid Station was a matter of two minutes away. Sure enough there it was and success i had not fallen asleep and dropped into the canal. I took the decision at this point to have a 20 minute power nap. I could have drunk a heap of caffeine and hoped it sustained me, but i wanted to be enjoying this race and so chose a sleep. Overall sleep/jet lag i think had impacted on my race by around 45 minutes. <br />
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I set an Alarm and also expressed my intentions to David Barker(yes the same David who had finished the race in under 16 hours and was not helping at Reading.) so i knew he would wake me if my phone failed to. Just like those moments at home when you hit snooze and then the alarm speeds time up and goes off just seconds later. Well thats how it felt. I stood up and felt a bit more awake. I was still drowsy, but not to the level of passing out. I grabbed some food and a few cups of coke and departed down the stairs. The cheers as i left Reading was just what i needed. I bounded down the steps... ok i walked down them... and back onto the Thames Path and the last stretch home. I passed Phil Hall on my way back to Goring. Phil looked strong and i felt confident that with Jon Fielden pacing him i knew Phil would be finishing this race. So i plodded on. The race had got in my head a little and i slowed unnecessarily. It took me about the next hour to really pull my head back. It was my wife encouraging me to push on that snapped me out of it. I knew i had lost over an hour now through jet lag and being a bit of a fool. 24 hours was probably gone now, but Zoe was right press on and see what happens. For the first time in a while i ran and got back into a walk/run combo. My brain had not woken soon enough at Reading or i would have realised then that sub 24 was still a realistic goal. With that said the time was not the primary focus of this race. The timing element really sunk home. I was doing everything i had been advised to do and was still feeling like i had running left in my legs. My training had obviously proved more beneficial than i appreciated. I was supposed to be focused on adapting, enjoying and conquering. So i considerd where i was, checked my watch and revised my plan to sub 25hours.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tnGNZA-U6VY/VkBGLF91eMI/AAAAAAAABcE/-mFAazlvkL0/s1600/IMAG2088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a>On my way to my revised target i had run a little with Martin Bushell. He had ruled out 24 hours for himself but pressed on into the difference after a nice conversation about holidays and Disney. I later found out that Martin got unnervingly close to sub 24. Running through the fields the sun was back up and i was nearing the end. I knew i would be finishing and that helped ease things back. Then diving in front of me like a slightly strange photo bomber was Paul Ali. It was great to see him and he turned and ran with me for a little while. The catch up was a great distraction from the task at hand. Paul reminded me that no running was a waste, even if it was only 15 seconds. So i started running from a tree to a tree and then walking the same. This really improved my pace and sense of enjoying the finale of the race and my races for the year in general.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tnGNZA-U6VY/VkBGLF91eMI/AAAAAAAABcE/-mFAazlvkL0/s1600/IMAG2088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; font-family: sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tnGNZA-U6VY/VkBGLF91eMI/AAAAAAAABcE/-mFAazlvkL0/s320/IMAG2088.jpg" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birds of prey hovering</td></tr>
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As i was approaching the end a few people had passed me. I could see them in the distance and decided i would try to reel them in. I was still loving the race and the journey i had been on during this adventure. Sure i knew i was going to have “what ifs?” floating around my head after the race, but i had to consider everyone in context. I had kept to race plan and the actions i had agreed with Eddie. I was adapting and enjoying. I had run faster to this point than i sincerely thought i was ever capable of and for the first 75 miles kept pace with a good friend of mine who had this year become a far quicker more competent runner than i. Best of all that 75 miles had been some of the most fun i have had on the trails. With all that in mind nothing about this race was going to be a failure regardless of time. <br />
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There of course comes the catch. 25 hours was now in my head. I wanted a time starting with 24. This became my new motivation and on i went. Then it happened i started to recognise the pathway and knew i was approaching the last mile of the race. Dog walkers were cheering and other runners were encouraging me as i passed them. I had one parting obscenity for the climbs and then glanced at my watch..... 6 minutes to go! I saw the distinct overhanging tree that my brain had mentally logged as the start of the trail on the way out. Conversely this meant i was about to hit pavement. So i ran and promised myself i would not stop until the finish. Then i saw the bridge in the distance... 4 minutes to go. So i picked up the pace again. I could feel i had a sprint in me, but time it wrong and i would be blowing up before the finish line. I could hear my little boy in my mind. Before he starts running he will always shout “booster feet on.” So i picked my moment and “booster feet on.” I started to sprint and sprint hard... 2 minutes left. I veered right at the bridge and pegged it. I could see my sun in the distance on his uncle’s shoulders. Normally i would stop and take him to the finish, but... 1 minute left. I legged it past them and turned through the door and stopped my watch. YES! I did it. Well according to my watch i had. I was relieved when Natasha Fielden and Gemma Greenwood confirmed that i had finished the A100 in 24hours 59 minutes and 40 seconds. <br />
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After the finish i was so tired, but elated. A massive hug with Nici and then my family and i was done. At the end of the race Nici and Natasha both shared that there had been some conversations about me running. Nothing negative but just a realisation that i was choosing to run only 48 hours after landing from Florida. I was running despite no longer contending for the Grandslam. Bryan had earlier said to me that he possibly would not have run. It crossed my mind after NDW100 not to run this race, but i felt i needed the finish and i wanted to see where i was now at going into winter training. The race gave me back more than i could ever have anticipated. I am not talking about the Centurion organisation and the brilliance of their volunteers, as that goes without saying. This race somehow has been a huge factor in changing my thinking in relation to running. Before i would look at other people’s finishing times and think that their pace was just unattainable and only gifted runners could achieve such times. During this race i felt strong and i felt capable. I realised that this was off the back of 8 weeks of consistent training. I was then left wondering what i can achieve with a consistent few months of training. I now saw the quality times of the fastest runners as something to work towards rather than be frightened of. No more glass ceiling in my mind of what i (or anyone) could achieve.<br />
<br />
I spoke with James Elson at the end and he completely got why i felt the need to run and the outcomes justified that. So my finishing time was 2 hours 8 minutes off my 100 miler PB. It was also 2hrs 46min faster than any 100 miler i had done this year. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDgwCBzYf6k/VkBFygIjszI/AAAAAAAABbs/vgPGNHY3-2E/s1600/FB_IMG_1445279306425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDgwCBzYf6k/VkBFygIjszI/AAAAAAAABbs/vgPGNHY3-2E/s320/FB_IMG_1445279306425.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nope not tired... Not one bit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So my Race calendar was concluded for the year. I didn’t quite make the Centurion Grandslam. 376 miles out of 400 was my final total. Its easy to lose sight of the achievements made. This year i have set a PB and completed 3 out of 4 100 milers. I am now being trained by Eddie Sutton and am inspired to see what we can achieve by May next year. I attribute substantial amounts of my progress to Eddie’s plans. I have a coach who cares about my running and my enjoys seeing me improve. Being the best you can be is her mantra and i truly believe this. With her help i am finding the balance of family and dedicated training. So next I will be running GUCR in 2016 and revisiting the Centurion Grandslam in 2017. With consistency to my training who knows what will happen at these races? But, maybe... just maybe........<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ylZ7MfjtdnU/VkBFtuBI0aI/AAAAAAAABbk/aTtBPEXCTXQ/s1600/IMAG2101_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ylZ7MfjtdnU/VkBFtuBI0aI/AAAAAAAABbk/aTtBPEXCTXQ/s320/IMAG2101_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a bad years haul</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-90644715162573275752015-06-29T14:36:00.000+01:002015-06-29T15:15:40.920+01:00South Downs Way 100 - Grandslam Part 2.<span style="font-family: inherit;">So I survived the Thames Path 100. It's important to open up with this statement as I was worried after that race that my ankle was in bits. It's becoming very apparent that to complete the Grandslam there is a lot of self management required. The body needs to hold up as well as the mind. With this vehemently at the forefront if my mind I attended physio and got an exercise progranme for my ankle and had massage sessions to sort out my ankles. The issues appeared to flow all the way up into my hamstrings so I'm glad I appear to have got this addressed. I have followed instruction and increased my stretching and foam rolling. I feel this has paid of well. My legs feel less stiff and the ankles more stable. I'd put the effort in. I had not done any long runs between Thames Path 100 and South Downs Way 100, but it's only a 6 week window and I was keen to make recovery the priority.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Of all four races this year the South Downs Way was the one I was looking forward to. I love the route and everything about it.byte fact it finishes only 5 minutes away from the in laws is an added bonus. With the knowledge that I am comfortable with the route my excitement and anticipation escalated to an all time high. Never before have I been so excited and so on edge for a race day to arrive. The other runners and crews all seemed to be feeling the same sense of anticipation and the swell of excitement could be felt across social media. My Twitter feedback and Facebook all consumed by talks of kit, weather, pace plans, weather, nutrition, weather and then as it all settled down a few more conversations about the weather.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This year I had a host of friends running the route. My running family seems to be growing faster than the Brady Bunch and to this end it was probably inevitable that I would in some capacity know a chunk of the runners. This just made the build up all the more exciting and l knew from past experiences this was going to be like a travelling festival from checkpoint to checkpoint. With several friends running their first 100 miler in one way or another this weekend was going to be a big adventure full of joy, heartache and maybe a tiny bit of swearing.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The plan for the weekend was to stay in a local holiday in
just down the road from the start line. Bryan Webster (@UltraDHC) and I were
sharing a twin room and had planned to meet in Eastbourne and get the train to
the start. A plan that would work well and keep the weekend relatively stress
free. This plan was made even simpler when the wonderful Bev Navesey started
offering her wonderful assistance. It was a true example of what is so
wonderful about this community. Bev basically offered to pick Bryan and myself
up from our hotel room on race morning. Fantastic no walking or taxi required.
Then she offered to pick us up from train station and take us to registration
and then to our hotel and then do the morning collection for registration...
even better. Then she realised we were getting the train from Eastbourne and
suggested we shorten out journey and she would pick us up from Lewes. Honestly
the woman is a bloody legend. She had just single handedly catered to every
remaining need Bryan and I had. The only thing left for her to do would be to
offer to run the 100 miles. Bev fell very silent at this point... guess you can’t
have it all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So it was all sorted. Bryan and I met in Eastbourne and with
my children waving us goodbye at the train station (Finley had wanted to see us
get on “Thomas”) we were off to Lewes. Both of us were excited for the upcoming
race, but equally disappointed in ourselves that we hadn’t bought an extra
Subway. We arrived to Lewes and waited for Bev and Steve to arrive. We loaded all
our kit and drove back to Bev and Steve’s. Steve had forgotten his running
shoes, a piece of kit he seemed to think would be essential for the weekend. We
passed the time to Winchester with general chatter and learning lots of hidden
gems about Paul Navesey. Take it from me people don’t piss the boy off he could
kill Chuck Norris. Bryan was slightly fearful that his twitter banter may now
lead to a premature death. Apart from this though the journey was easy and
before we really knew it we were at out hotel. Bev dropped us off to settle in
and was to return later to ensure we were ready for an evening check in. I
really am grateful when I can arrive for a race early and relax. The stress of
having to rush around is not conducive to a positive start to a race. We were
able to ensure kit bags were packed and race kit laid out. Then we watched some
trash on TV. These including the quiz show “The Chase.” Bryan observantly
pointed out that the Quiz Pro looked like a “fat James Adams.” So after
broadcasting this to twitter we were off to check in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">At check in it was the start of a weekend of catching up
with friends and absorbing the race atmosphere. So many excited faces all
coming of the back of a taper and carb load made for an excitable atmosphere.
Chatting to Mark, Phil, Tony, Gary, and several others it was great to be part
of the gathering momentum towards a start. The registration was as seem less as
ever, although Bryan did prick himself on a safety pin from within the pot
(Health and safety report Nici?). A quick hello with Graham Carter (@GrahamCarterGC)
and it was clear he was like a little boy at Christmas who had just heard bells
and assumed Santa was on the roof. He looked ready and I had every confidence
that Graham would be making it to Eastbourne. So with registration done Bryan
manage to blag us a lift from Stew in what can only be described as a bloody
fast car. It saved Bev one journey and we were very grateful to our smooth
transition from destination to destination. After some food at the massively
over price hotel restaurant and a chat with Bryan and Mark it was time for bed.
The day had gone to plan and after a foam roll session (physio’s advice) and a
final kit check it was time for bed. Bryan and I had succeeded in being in bed
before 10pm and I was awake about 5 minutes before the 4:30am alarm. The other
7 alarms were not needed and it was race day. All the excitement and
preparation had built to this day. The recovery from TP100 and the training
before all of it was now focused on part 2 of the Grandslam. It would soon be
time to run to Eastbourne and keep myself in this Grandslam challenge. I had
taped my ankles, but it was an unknown how my Achilles would hold up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only way to find out would be to start
running. <o:p></o:p></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At the start I had the opportunity to catch up with some
more runners, including Sam Robson (@stupid_drummer) and Fi McNellis. Fi is
basically a bubbly ball of enthusiastic joy. Seeing her lifted the spirits and
a brief catch up with Nici and James and I was feeling ready. Sam looked
determined in the morning and I felt confident he may just be on for a good
race. My mind switched from other people’s races and I lined up at the start
with Ashley (@irunsalt), Graham Carter and Bryan Webster. The briefing was given
and we were off. All with our own game plans and feeling ready. A lap of the
sports field was the traditional start to this race. As we made our way round
the morning dew was glistening and everybody could be seen to be holding
themselves back like excitable puppies. As we exited the field it was time for
a final goodbye to many people who I would not see until the following day in
Eastbourne. Exiting the field I felt like we were leaving through the entrance
to a secret garden. For the next 30 hours the South Downs somehow belonged to
us and every moment and memory would forever be etched into the landscape,
somehow rendering us all in some small part immortal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love this race and the environment generated within it.
Somehow such races encapsulate everything that is good about the human spirit.
We run for hours on end to be greeted by people equally happy in their space
and mind to be topping up water bottles and catering to every runner like a
VIP. I have served on both sides of the table and I can assure you that both
are enjoyable and go for the soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">During the first leg I was instantly into a rhythm and
feeling good about myself and the day that lay ahead. It was relatively cool
with a nice bit of cloud over and all was seeming right with the world. I was
using Race Drone for the day (separate review to follow). This would use my
phone’s GPS and plot my position on a map every 15 minutes. This gave Zoe the
assurances that she required to know that I was alive and progressing from
checkpoint to checkpoint. Not needing to phone anybody to provide updates meant
I could focus on my race and nothing more than that. During the first leg I ran
for a bit with Bryan Webster and Ashley Hurd. I was comfortable with the pace,
but figured it was certainly a matter of time before Bryan would disappear into
the distant. Everyone was hitting their stride and the field was beginning to
spread out. I had set myself the weekend game plan of jogging the flats,
running the downhills and walking the uphills. If there was a downhill I would
run the entire stretch of it, but would hike the uphills. This way there would
be regular breaks, but a constant focus on making effective progress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After about 7 or 8 miles Bryan and Ashley disappeared off
into the distant. I knew that Bryan would do this but had not anticipated
Ashley steaming off. I think he runs about my pace and so it was a surprise,
but this was his race to run and I had my own agenda that was not going to be
swayed by that of others. Pretty much from this point in I would spend the rest
of the day interacting with various people and a core group of people who I
would leapfrog all the way to Eastbourne. The day was beginning to heat up. In
my head I had figured given it was mid-morning the day would not get much hotter.
Of course this was the distortion of having been awake since 4:30am. In reality
it was only about 7:30am and the heat that was soon to set upon us could not
have been envisaged. The humidity was soon to take a vice like grip on the
competitors and for much play a significant factor in curtailing their race
prematurely. Anyway for now I plodded on in bliss and ignorance.<o:p></o:p></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Arriving at the first check point everything felt good. The
only issue was that my Rock Tape had come loose on the sides of my legs. No
bother as the support element was around my ankles. I figured it was probably
human error that had led to the tape coming loose, but regardless it needed
dealing with. A quick enquiry with the Aid Station revealed there were no
scissors there, but they did have a massive knife. So picture the scene… I am
passed a large knife and crouch over a small mound of turf and proceed to rip
through the loose tape with the knife. To anyone coming round the bend it
probably looked like I was setting about early amputation of my lower limbs. I
can assure this was not the case and I felt really good. Natasha Fielden (aid
station extraordinaire) suggested I was “very Bear Gryhlls.” Now flattery will
get you everywhere, but at present I am very aware my physique means I probably
looked more like Ray Mears. So bounding out of the aid station, knife safely
returned to its owners, and on a mission I was munching my first of many
picnics. Watermelon at this point in the day was bloody amazing and went down
an absolute treat. Other foods were less easy, but I knew it was important to
get as many calories in as I could. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HGDi4_Fr7ZA/VZFGv4Har6I/AAAAAAAABMY/5ijcEdxw9KE/s1600/CR-SDW100-15-266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HGDi4_Fr7ZA/VZFGv4Har6I/AAAAAAAABMY/5ijcEdxw9KE/s400/CR-SDW100-15-266.jpg" width="400"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">With the day heating up and some good running already in the
legs I was feeling positive and it seemed very quickly it was time to descend
off the downs and into the second checkpoint, QECP, and the mark of 22 miles
into the race. I had stopped a little before this to rearrange my bag and
ensure that I had access to my music. It was a happy moment when I realised I
had sorted the settings so I could use the earphones to pause the music. It
meant I would not have to keep reaching into my bag when I didn’t want to
listen to music, or conversely when I wanted to turn it on for a 5 minute
blast. My bag was performing well and I was much happier having condensed my
kit into the more streamlined 5lt Slab, instead of my usual 12lt. It was
lighter and sat higher up on my back. All in all I was very happy and had very
little to complain about. So with this in mind I let the legs do all the work
and with the grip of gravity we plummeted in unbridled fashion down the hill
and into QECP. We passed a wealth of walkers. It was more like a sea of walkers
cascading up the hill. I can only liken it to some scene out of Lord of the
Rings where the Armies are marching as Frodo weaves discreetly between them.
Our group of some 260 runners were dwarfed by this army of hikers, but hey we
were faster and looked like we were having more fun. So after the sprint down
the hill it was a short jaunt through woodland and down into the checkpoint
where I was greeted by Natasha Fielden. No you have not scanned back to the top
of the article. Natasha was tasked with jumping from checkpoint to checkpoint.
She filled my soft flasks and after a quick chat I grabbed my second picnic and
marched out of the aid station stuffing my face. The heat of the day had risen
at this point and the humidity, more concerning, did not appear as if it was
going to have a cap on it today. We were in for a sweltering one and may be
something that simply had to be endured.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--n3hPb9fuEw/VZFGxkrdHII/AAAAAAAABMg/7INgm8odQNU/s1600/CR-SDW100-15-538.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--n3hPb9fuEw/VZFGxkrdHII/AAAAAAAABMg/7INgm8odQNU/s400/CR-SDW100-15-538.jpg" width="400"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The next Aid Station would see the runners pass through the
marathon distance. It was a good feeling and I was feeling like I had taken
little energy out of my legs and so far was holding on to my game plan. Runner’s
amnesia sets in a little here and detail to the next aid station is a little
blurred. I know that the running was good and I was feeling strong. Passing
through this checkpoint with minimal fuss was key and on I marched to Cocking.
I ran with a few runners on this stretch and it is possibly one of my favourite
stretches of the trail. There were some excellent running conditions with well-maintained
trails and for a large part it was downhill. This meant with my game plan in
mind I spent the majority of the last three miles, approaching the checkpoint,
running and running well. I chatted to a lady who was also attempting the
Grandslam (how many of us nutters are out there?) and had gone a little over
24hrs at Thames Path and was pushing for 24 hours today. I was right on the
cusp of the 24hour timescales, but felt it could be achievable, if the
conditions stayed as they were. The catch to this being that it was now bloody
hot. Come on light rain, cloud cover… something, but no! Beaming sunshine and a
ramped up humidity with a high pollen count. Oh well these things are set to
try us. So running up through the field I passed the support crews who were
basking in the sunshine. They did not seem to share my desire for some light
rain. The Aid station was welcome and I felt a strong need to start drinking my
Pepsi/water combination in my soft flask. I doused my cap in water and scoffed
some melon and pineapple (food of the running gods today.) Marching out of the
Aid Station I ate some mini scotch eggs and reached the first part of a long
drawn out climb. I stopped at the gate and did some proper stretching. I
loosened out my hamstring, calves, glutes and quads. It felt great and really
gave some increased mobility back to my legs. I quickly caught up with some
runners who had passed me whilst I was stretching. One gentleman thought about
dropping, but was on form now having let his mate run on at a faster pace. He
seemed much happier now he was following the important mantra of “run your own
race.” I am delighted that I would see him intermittently throughout the race
and in Eastbourne. I had told him that my aim was to get to Clayton Windmills
as for me this symbolised the point of the race where it felt like I was
running home and on familiar soil.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">With my head down I marched up the climbs and pressed on to
the next aid station in what were now very warm conditions. So as I entered
mile 42 I could see a lot of stricken bodies. Some looked like they were really
going to struggle to get moving again, whilst others looked like they were
about to rise to their feet and reject the Aid Station with all their might. As
I had finished grabbing food I saw Ashley Hurd. He looked in a pretty bad way
and as if he may be on the brink of dropping. Knowing that Ashley was one of
the remaining 34 Grandslam runners I encouraged him to get moving and put some
miles in his legs. As I moved along the paths I walked an uphill and Ashley
came running past. He seemed to have a little mojo back, but I was concerned in
this heat that he was choosing to run the hills. About 10 minutes later I saw
Ashley duck into a hedge and I then did not see him for the remainder of the
stretch, I did not think anything of it as I began to find my stride and opened
up some good running. Shortly before entering into mile 50 I ran with a girl who
I think said her name was Gemma. I can’t be sure as she talked so fast that we
rattled through more topics than I think my wife and I have covered in 4 years
of marriage ;) Mind you only in the world of Ultras could a lady go from
chatting about nothing in particular to the frequency of her urination and need
to poo. In the sunshine this conversation just made me smile. We talked about
running and the support of our partners. Both of us were hoping to be into 50
miles by around 11 hours. This gave plenty of time for a finish. I eased off as
we came down the descents onto the river. As we opened gates and headed towards
the bridge Gemma powered on. I was happy with my pace and confident I would get
to 50 miles in 11 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sunshine and
glorious atmosphere had spirits high, but the heat was taking its toll on the
body. Running past cars that were support crews for runners it was nice to get
some cheers and as tempting as the offer of a cold beer was I continued to
press on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nvJ7pjcVpzE/VZFG222aCWI/AAAAAAAABMw/IKiljJhIEUE/s1600/CR-SDW100-15-860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nvJ7pjcVpzE/VZFG222aCWI/AAAAAAAABMw/IKiljJhIEUE/s400/CR-SDW100-15-860.jpg" width="400"></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Coming into mile 50 there was some glorious motivational
signs. I didn’t hang around at this aid station for long. Getting there in
around 11 hours meant I had plenty of time to get to the finish. This was a
solid objective, but the temperature was still seeming to rise despite it being
5pm. So onwards I marched to mile 54 and the promise of a hot meal. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">At the 54 mile mark there is a less than delightful
diversion off of the SDW trail. I say less than delightful only because any
diversion away from your end goal is undesirable. The humour and effort of aid
stations crew never ceases to impress and so as I approached the aid station I
was dutifully directed to turn left by none other than Elvis. I was a little
disappointed that he didn’t have blue suede shoes on, but you can’t have everything.
Then as sure as night follows day I saw Karen Webber sat cheering the runners
in. She was in fine spirits and with the boost of a hug I asked after the new
addition to the family. As a proud aunt Karen beamed from ear to ear. The
conversation took place without my feet ceasing to approach the aid station.
Inside I made the necessary visit to the toilets. Held up by only one cubicle
functioning I took the opportunity to stretch and again this seemed to help a
lot. As I was getting my stuff ready to head back out Ash and Graham arrived
into the aid station. I chatted to them a bit. It seemed that Ash was
struggling and a further motivational “man up” was delivered, but in truth Ash
looked like his mind was lurching back towards his heavily pregnant wife at
home and getting his running shoes off. Graham on the other hand looked in
great form and positive spirits. He was prepping for the second half and the
serious test of his ability to finish. Looking at him it was clear he was going
to finish. I think you can often tell at around half way if someone is likely
to finish or not. Today Graham was clearly on a mission. So after a brief
discussion of the others who we knew running today, it became a list of
survivors and seemingly fallen comrades, I pushed on. I advised the guys to get
moving soon and that I was sure I would see them soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I pressed on out of the aid station. It was a little cooler
than before, but the humidity remained and it was clear that challenge was
unlikely to subside right through to the finish. Oh well suck it up and get on
with the job. A final farewell to the crew and a special nod to Elvis and I was
back on the trail. I munched on some food and spoke to my wife. All was well at
home and the children were happily getting ready of bed. They were all in
Eastbourne and would be there for my finish. I love the solitude and
tranquillity of mind that running long distances bring, but I also am greater
empowered to do this by the support of my wife and the knowledge that the
family are safe and well. Zoe reported back to me that Race Drone was working
perfectly. So much so in fact that she regaled me with tales of my own race, “I
notice that you keep passing two runners and then they pass you.” The app was
proficiently showing her the downhills where I was storming past and the
uphills where the gap was then closed. It appeared the app was creating an
almost matrix like code that Zoe could interpret and consequently visualise the
race. So I pressed on and confirmed I would call again around Alfriston. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">With the next aid station being Botolphs I was still making
positive progress. Yes I was battling the sleep demons, but otherwise I was in
good shape with plenty of running to be had in my legs. Around this point I
over took Steve Navesey. He was struggling a little and so had planned to ease
back. Now if you have not read his blog then you may be the only person in the
country that doesn’t know that Steve got no sleep the night before the race. I
believe his words to me went something along the lines of “fuck you Lenny
Henry… fuck your good night guarantee.” I was retold the story of Steve sending
a chair across the room. So despite fatigue Steve was pressing on and
maintaining forward momentum. I pressed on and at this point despite the tiredness
I could run and I could adhere to my race plan. This would all change, but not
quite yet. Well pretty soon after actually. I entered the Botolphs Aid station
where I think I received one of the most enthused welcomes from Sarah Sawyer.
Like so many I have spoken to her a bit on social media and so she knew I was
running. I grabbed some food for the climb out of Botolphs and marched on.
Seeing Bev Navesey walking down the hill she asked how I was. I told her I was
fine and that Steve was only a few minutes behind. Now the hill out of Botolphs
is the one where I had advised others in my previous blog (surviving the South
Downs Way 100) to put on your jacket as the wind can get up. The humidity was
so high that I elected to ignore this advice and press on. Up the top of this
climb the road stretches out on concrete for an absolute age before re-joining
trail. I elected to walk most of this to preserve my legs for later in the
race.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The aid stations get that much closer at this point in the
race and so before I knew it I was only a couple of miles away from<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the aid station. At this point fatigue was
hitting me. I just wanted to close my eyes and drift off and wake up in
Eastbourne. I was loving the race and the adventure, but a can of red bull
would have gone down a treat at this point. Plus I had elected to leave my
chocolate covered coffee beans at home. This was a mistake, but I have never
suffered with tiredness in this manner before and can only attribute it to the
humidity. Arriving at Saddlescombe farm it looked like a graveyard of runners.
The draw of the buffet appeared to have engulfed some runners and it was clear
that they were not leaving under any circumstances. Less thankfully, but an
equal benefit, was that my appetite had faded to nothing and I couldn’t bear
the thought of eating. Then I saw it… the most amazing site I had seen for the
last few hours… Watermelon and masses of it. I took about 5 pieces and marched
up the hill. Knowing I was close to my drop bag it felt futile to stop for too
long. The initial climb is annoying out of Saddlescombe, but the rest is pretty
steady, but seems to go on forever. Eventually I could see lights off in the
distance. I knew from Andrew Baille that the plan was to maintain the tradition
we had set at this aid station the previous year. I was far from disappointed.
The welcome I got at the top was spectacular. I was greeted with a conga line,
but resisted the invitation to join in and ignoring the famous words of Gollum
I followed the lights. I followed them down the hill and round the bend, in to
the car park and the rave station of Clayton Windmills. Here I was welcome by
Andrew and he ensured that all of my needs were catered for. I had my drop bag
in my hand before I had even got to a chair. I was sorry to hear that Darren
Chilcott had dropped as well. The race seemed to be stripping everything back
and leaving nothing to hide behind. I took a couple of bits out of my drop bag
and attempted a cup of coffee. At this point I just could not eat anything. I
knew this could be bad as I had chocolate covered pretzels in my bag and
couldn’t eat them. Now Nici Griffin had a pack of these bad boys off of me at
Endure 24 so she knows how good they are and the level of severity not eating
them must imply. I forced down some roasted potatoes with salt and pressed on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">From Clayton Windmills things became a struggle and a
battle. Now not with my legs, or my feet and in fact most of my body had
running left in it. The issue became that I started suffering with acid reflux
and I could not shift it. I went through a spell of not eating in order not to
suffer the feeling of reflux and then I would get near the red line of my tank
and so eat, but then suffer reflux for a couple of miles. This juggling act of
no energy vs reflux would continue right until I reached the track in
Eastbourne. Nothing I tried to eat would resolve and even the Kendall mint cake
that I had collected from my drop bag was not easing the stomach. So I sucked
on this for energy and minimised the reflux this way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The sleep demons really gripped me in this stretch and I was
going to need to do something to bring me out of it. I still felt like I could
run on and make some progress, but now was feeling like I needed to be sick,
but had nothing to expel. I supressed the feeling and pressed on, but this in
turn also increased my tiredness. At one point I was sure I saw a runner
alongside me, but then nothing. I don’t know if it was just mind drifting out
or whether it was a hallucination, but I was grateful for the aid stations
arrival. So I plonked myself in a chair, but I could not get any food in me. I
requested a coffee and hoped this would help. Steve Navesey arrived about 5
minutes after and looked tired (remember had no sleep the night before… in case
you didn’t already know), but he had a pacer and appeared in good spirits. I
put my head in my hands and tried to just have a couple of 5 minute power naps.
There was a fine balance here of staying long enough to right myself, but not
so long I could not stand up. The aid station crew were great and recognised I
needed to just sit and close my eyes. A few sips of coffee and yep the acid
reflux rose up again. So I decided to get angry with myself. Not a kind of
depressive angry, but an anger that would spark an alternative kind of stubborn
bastard fire in my belly. I would use this fire to drive me to my feet, switch
my mind off from the reflux and ultimately get me to the finish. Now a crew
member obviously had a few concerns and escorted me to the turn and then wished
me well. I knew getting out of that chair was a defining moment and I vowed not
to sit down again until the finish. This little stretch has special memories as
it is where I spent my first ever father’s day. It’s accounted in my 2013
SDW100 blog <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://dan-fattofit.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/south-downs-way-100-race-review.html" target="_blank">here.</a> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><u> </u></span></span>So I pressed on and out towards
Southease. At some point along this stretch Steve and his pacer passed me. With
the issues I was having my aim was to finish and set myself up for part 3 of
the Grandslam. The race today was not a single event for me and was one part of
a much greater project. I had to remember this and press on to Southease.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The moment came in which I arrived at Southease and was
politely pointed to climb over the bridge. I jokingly said to the crew “oh come
on that’s just mean.” They were just about the most apologetic pair, looking
horrified at asking runners with over 70 miles in their legs to climb two
flights of stairs and then descend them again almost immediately. I quickly
thanked them and clarified that I was joking with my previous statement. When
you’re tired sometimes the radar for tone and inferences drops out and so I
wanted them to be sure I held no grudge towards them. The safety element to
crossing at the bridge made perfect sense. I would not want heavily fatigued
runners crossing the railway track at the gate. I arrived into Southease and
the same old problem of not eating. I shovelled some crisps in my mouth but
could manage no more. As I was exiting the aid station Graham Carter arrived
looking well and moving ok. I said I would see him in a minute and pressed on.
I figured he would probably catch me and so I didn’t want either of us to be
held up. I was still tired and practically asleep on my feet, but I knew this
stretch like the back of my hand and was fairly confident that at this point I
could run in my sleep if I needed to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I pressed on up Southease feeling like some kind of
conquering hero ascending Everest. In reality of probably looked more like a drunken
hedgehog climbing a curb. Like with so many ultras though if you keep putting
one foot in front of the other the end fast approaches. So half way up the
climb out of Southease I was awestruck (not for the first or by far the last
time) by the beauty of the downs. Looking out across the route and the
magnitude of the task achieved so far. Many people would already be finished
and several were still behind me and yet I didn’t mind where I was. The reality
remained that in that moment the view was mine and mine alone. I drank in the
atmosphere and pressed on. It had become a pattern now that I would
continuously swap places with Shawn Timmons and of course at this point Graham
was striding up the mountain like the BFG. He had a massive grin on his face
and despite the fatigue of 84 miles he was clearly loving it. We got to the top
of the climb together and there was something poetic about the fact that one of
the first times I ran with Graham was this last stretch through to Eastbourne.
Being the gentleman that he is I was instructed to press on. I had running in
my legs, but I wanted to be asleep and my stomach was still reminding me that
the reflux had not gone. Sucking on Kendal mint cake was now like sucking on
pebbles and there was little solution, but to suck it up and press on. So press
on I did and I pulled away from Graham. I had the intention of opening up my
legs and seeing if I could at least kick on a bit and draw a course PB from the
race. I had a lightning bolt moment though and asked myself “why?” What would I
really achieve by pressing on? The 24 hour target had now gone. I reflected on
this and yes my first aim was sub 24, but I knew at this point in my training I
wanted it the same way I want a lap dance from Cheryl Cole…. Never going to
happen. So now my race was about the Grandslam and with running still in my
legs I wanted an injury free race and fast recovery time. That was the initial
thoughts for slowing and taking it steady. I am not sure what the passage of
time was for this thought process, but then I glanced over my shoulder and
about 400 metres back was Graham still plodding on and hanging on to my pace. I
eased off a little and ran with Graham having his company to enjoy a few miles
woke me up and made things that bit easier. We chatted about the race and the
reasons we run. Both of us share a common love of running and of this route. We
pressed on and occasionally stopped/stretched/complained and anything else we
needed to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Time passed quickly with Graham and pretty soon we were
running in to the next aid station. I picked up the pace a little and told
Graham to hang with me. He duly obliged and we pressed on into Alfriston. I
lost Graham on the descent down the rubble ground, but I was confident he would
be catching me again on the ascent. This course layout meant that for the flats
we could stick together. So for the first time in about 30 miles I gunned it
down the descent. It was exhilarating and I felt great. Knowing the course
meant I knew exactly where I was going and the run was care free. I had a
little flashback to 2013 when my wife met me at this point and ground out the
last 9 miles. The gesture has always stuck with me as that finish catapulted me
into my love of ultra running. Here I was now still moving well, but not
concerned with time. There was plenty in the bank and so no issues like with
Thames Path 100. Short of disasters this should be 2 of 4 races completed.
Somehow Alfriston always gets me to feeling like its nearly over. I think it is
the dip into the single mileage. I was pondering my love of running and the joy
of the freedom, the isolation and the solitude and yet one of the things I was
loving most about today was running with friends and knowing others were
waiting for me to arrive into aid stations. This race today had the freedom,
but also the camaraderie as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I entered the village chicane that is Alfriston and dropped
into the Aid station. I didn’t stay long as I knew the next climb was just
mean. So I used the facilities and had a quick catch up with Graham and then
pressed on. Graham was going to have a quick look at a letter from his son,
make himself comfortable and press on. I told him not to be too long and to
catch me up. There was no doubt that he would do this. So on I went and quickly
the climb arrived. So with thoughts of my family I found myself saying one of
my little boy’s favourite sayings “let's do this thing.” And up I marched. Sure
enough I toiled with the hill and about three quarters up I turned to see the
BFG churning up the mountain. We were side by side when we reached the top and
pressed on to Jevington. We spoke about race plans and Graham’s slight state of
shock that he was almost a finisher of a 100 mile race. I love the stretch
between Alfriston and Jevington as it always seems to be over quite quickly and
sure enough Graham and I ran down the hill and into the aid station. It was
wonderful to be greeted by Sarah and David Barker. The Aid Station was awash
with a plethora of treats and goodies. I felt like Charlie with the golden ticket,
but alas my stomach was still not happy so I declined, except for the
watermelon. I bloody love you water melon. The big hug from Sarah and the
upbeat encouragement from David made this one of my favourite aid stations of
the day. It is no mean feat to keep such an aid station fully stocked after a
large part of the field has passed through. Again I pressed on whilst Graham
used the facilities. I gave Zoe a quick call and told her always fine and that I
would be there soon. I plodded on to the Jevington climb. Now Graham was
obviously motivated and was with me for the start of the climb. We ground the
son of a bitch out together. Having Graham there reminded me what I can
actually do and so I hung onto his pace right to the top. I made him pause for
a picture at the top. This spot is still one of my favourite photographs from
any race. It shows how far you have come and at the top of the last climb
symbolises the beginning of the end. I wanted to ensure that Graham savoured
this experience as much as I was. For a while I had been running in black and
white and now things were resuming in colour. We ran on past the trig point and
a quick chat with Chris Mills and we were ready to get this thing done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Descending this narrow pathway we made the decision to walk.
Hitting the bottom I asked Graham if he was bothered about his time and he
confirmed he wasn’t and with that we agreed to take a stroll in the Sunday afternoon.
I liken it to the coffee after a good meal. We were savouring everything that
had gone before in order to ensure we could really soak up the achievements at
the end. Passing one gentleman, I now know as Tim Vincent, it was clear he was in a lot
of pain and holding himself up on walking poles. His determination though was exemplary
and many could take note of this. There was no way he would be quitting and
this inspiration will stay with me for races to come. The fact so many others
were later talking about his run shows how it is not just the front runners who
can influence the masses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Graham and I were now able to enjoy the warming day. There
was no pressure to our finish time and we caught up with another runner and
enjoyed the stroll, knowing that most drivers passing would have no clue that
these bunch of runners looking knackered had run from Winchester. As we crossed
the road I advised Graham to savour the moment. This I think is one of the few
times I have been more excited about someone else’s finish than my own. So we
were only about 50 metres from turning into the Athletics track car park. I was
about to see my family and run the track. I spurred Graham on and told him
there was no way anyone else was seeing us walking and so we started to run,
turning to Graham that was it we shared a smile knowing we had experienced
something special over the last 16 miles and I told him not to stop running
until he crossed that bloody finish line. We entered the track through the
gates. I stopped for my kids but not before shouting “you got this Graham go
and get that finish.” Graham pressed on and this moment was all his, the joy of
which you can see in his finish line photographs. For me races these days take
on a different message. I want to inspire my children and generate memories for
them that they can do the impossible. So different from my 2013 race were I opened
the taps and sprinted for the end. I stopped took my daughter in my arms and my
little boys hand (after a massive hug of course) and he said “we do some running
daddy?” I looked him straight in the eyes, smiled and said “come on then son.”
We were off jogging the track, the moment just placing icing on the cake.
Finley said “we are catching him daddy” referring to any gentleman in front of
us. I didn’t think he would appreciate being out run by a three year old and so
grasping Finley’s hand we carried on. I looked up to see Graham approaching the
final bend I cried out “go get it Graham” and hearing the cheers as he crossed
the line will stay with me for ever. Now my moment round the track did not last
long enough and so we approached the final straight. I looked at Finley and
said “on your marks”, he duly got in the ready position, “get set”, he raised
his bum, “GO” and he started running with all his might. There would be a Park
sprint special this year, but it wouldn’t be mine. We crossed the line in 28hrs
40 something, but to be honest that was irrelevant. I got to run a special race
with special friends and create a memory with my wife and children that will
last a life time. My small regret was not getting a photograph of Graham and I together
at the end, but once that adrenalin has gone you have to sit down. Special
thanks to James, Nici and the Centurion family, to support crews and Aid
stations, all who cheered, supported and spent more hours on the course than
most runners. You</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">all made this race experience the special experience that it
was.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So after crossing the line there were hugs with family.
Finley was presented with the buckle and told me “don’t worry daddy we can
share it”. Several hugs with other familiar people including Nici, Natasha and
Fi exuded the warmth of this running family. This was broken quickly by firm
instructions from Nici that I had to bloody finish the Grandslam now. I caught
up with James Elson and Drew Sheffield who were also very complimentary about
my finish and prospects of completing the Grandslam. This goal is so important
to me and I will happily see you all on the North Downs Way, but over the course of this race (pun intended) it became about so much
more. My running is about freedom, a chance for time alone, for peace and quiet, to reflect,
but what was apparent when all is said and done… Give me the Freedom to run and
I will always run home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-34414540485236749562015-06-04T11:13:00.000+01:002015-06-04T11:17:38.531+01:00Surviving the South Downs Way 100<div dir="ltr">
With the race ever looming and many people who are running it for the first time asking for advice, I thought I would give my few snippets to surviving the South Downs Way 100.</div>
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<b><u>Remember it's a long way</u></b></div>
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Sounds blindingly obvious, but its not. Easy to forget on 7 miles in when you are blasting the downhills and jumping cow shits like Killian Jornet that there is still 93 miles to go. You WILL pay for this later when you are falling on the downhills and tripping through cow shit. Chances are Killian Jornet you are not.</div>
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<b><u>Remember it's not that far.</u></b></div>
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So yes an immediate contradiction to point one, sounds about right with most ultra advice. In this.case the contradiction is true. This is part of the mental component to the 100 mile distance. Build the distance up too much in your mind and the race will become about nothing other than fear and trepidation. The consequence being as a result of the hesitation you will be slipping through cow shit from the beginning, panicking and generally not enjoying yourself. Set a comfortable pace, acknowledge you will slow down and set about enjoying each mile individually. This is a beautiful route. Don't get to the finish and realise you've run the whole thing with your head down.</div>
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<b><u>Be comfortable in your kit choices.</u></b></div>
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With nerves setting in don't start seconding guessing kit and buy something new because it might make you better. It won't and the uncertainty will probably cause problems. Utilise the kit you have trained with and know and love. That said if kit is broken or problematic then replace it, but replace it with what you know. </div>
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<b><u>Don't carry excess weight.</u></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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It's very easy to add a couple of kilos of weight you don't require and over a 100 miles that will add up. My physio shared the delightful news that when you jog, 15 times your weight goes through your legs with every stride. A couple of kilos becomes near on 65lbs extra force through your legs. Now I'm not suggesting you should under pack. Nerves will have you throwing everything and the kitchen sink into your back pack. Remember a sink is useless if not plumbed in. Think everything through and utilise drop bags to store stuff you need later in the race. This can assist considerably and just make it a little easier (note the word little).</div>
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<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
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<b><u>The descents and ascents will more or less even themselves out. </u></b></div>
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Make the most of the good running. There is plenty of it to be had on this route. Lots of the aid stations are in the valleys and can be jogged down into. This is always a great moral boost. You then leave the aid station normally to an uphill. Walk it and don't let the adrenaline have you running up it beyond your means. Equally don't fret the slog up the climbs. More often than not when you get to the top there will be a nice bit of runnable flat to enjoy.</div>
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<b><u>Love the aid stations but don't stay long.</u></b></div>
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Damn these centurion aid stations are epic. So epic it would be very easy to stay too long... DONT!!!! 14 Aid stations on the course. It's really helpful if utilised in the right manner. Remember though 5 minutes at each aid station would cost you 70 minutes!!! Imagine how gutted you would be timed out with 20 minutes to go and in touching distance of Eastbourne. My advice is grab what you want from the aid stations, say your thank you's and remember that hill you are walking up?! Now is the time to shovel food into your face whilst walking. Maybe consider one point where you will stay for a bit longer. Mile 54 being a good option, but every time you stop you also have to get going again and that will get harder and harder. Don't get stuck in the DNF chair. Get to Housedean and you will understand what I mean by this.</div>
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<b><u>Don't Fret the GPS.</u></b></div>
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It is quite common when I am running alongside people that I hear these words, "where's the aid station? My watch says it should be here." Remember GPS is inherently inaccurate. Just check strava after for the variation of overall distances. I promise Centurion have not tricked you and aid stations will always appear. Just enjoy the running and tick off aid stations as you pass through them.</div>
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<b><u>Don't get lost.</u></b></div>
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More specifically don't get lost beyond repair. Trust the maps, the signs and the tape. If you do take an errant turn then keep your eyes peeled for a sign or tape. If you see nothing for about 1/2 mile (unless a straight with no turn offs at all) turn back and double check. Even if you prove to be going the right way it's a small amount of time for a potentially very costly mistake. Plus the confidence you are going the correct way will probably result in faster running. During the race at any possible turning do a scan for signs and tape (especially at night). I've yet to be on a centurion event where at a turning there isn't an indicator of Which way to go.</div>
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<b><u>Go at your pace</u></b></div>
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This is such a friendly race that it is easy to get caught in conversations and friendships. I have made some friends out on the course. The danger is that you compromise your race pla. Invariably people feel good at different times. People also have different strengths and weaknesses. I am better descending than.ascending. I make these points because when you start running with others it's easy to compromise pace to run together and suddenly.you still feel bad later, but didn't optimise your pace when you were feeling good. Guess what that new friend has now run off where they are sticking to their plan. Turns out they were just having a low spell and are now off like a rocket. So absolutely make friends, chat etc, but just establish the culture that if one of you pulls away you will see the other later (even if that's a lie). This will enable you to.Keep.to.your race plan.and have fun.</div>
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<b><u>Get a good light source.</u></b></div>
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If you have not done much night running it can get pretty dark on the downs. A good torch will make things a whole lot easier. It will enable you to run with confidence, spot signs and tape, trip hazards etc. The dawn will be here before you know it and with the sunrise I guarantee a renewed sense of energy and determination.</div>
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<b><u>Don't get cold.</u></b></div>
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The downs can be brutal when the temperature drops and the sensation can be amplified if it's a warm day into a cold night. There is a point about 62 miles into the race before you climb back up onto the downs where it is always a good idea to get a layer and jacket on. The south downs has been described as having its own eco-climate. Not by me, but by the local paragliding club. I trust them where judging weather is concerned. Up on the top near the sea it can get very chilly and windy. Act to prevent rather than cure. It will be better in the long run.</div>
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<b><u>Bring a buff.</u></b></div>
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Even if the temperature doesn't drop it is likely at some point the wind will pick up. Having a buff to hand is a great way to keep the wind of your ears. It can make a significant difference. When you are being battered by the wind a little thing like this can be a huge morale boost and really improve a race.</div>
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<b><u>Bring suncream!!!</u></b></div>
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Don't be deceived. If the sun is shining then you will need cream. When the winds pick up it can feel cooler than it is. By the evening if you are burned you will be wishing you had put suncream on at the start, especially with the salty air lashing at your skin.</div>
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<b><u>The Jevington descent can be tricky.</u></b></div>
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So you have got to the top of jevington. The hard work is done and just about three miles to grind out. Don't lose focus the descent can be a little tricky , with narrow path and rubble it's easy to twist an ankle. A DNF at the bottom of Jevington would suck. On the plus side you should have seen the end of all the cow shit.</div>
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<b><u>The home stretch.</u></b></div>
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So you are off the South Downs Way and on the home stretch. Don't Sprint just yet though. The adrenaline might have you feeling like you are nearly there but it is still over two miles. Take it steady, pace it out and get ready for an epic finish.</div>
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Enjoy the monumentous track finish. There is something quite special about that final 400mtrs. However much you are hurting soak up the atmosphere, bury the pain and run that bloody thing. There is no feeling like that moment.</div>
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These are just a few of my views based on my own successes and mistakes. Hope they help and look forward to seeing you all at the race and in Eastbourne clasping a buckle. I'll be the man with a monster on my back :)</div>
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Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-47595789261116650532015-05-09T21:34:00.002+01:002015-05-09T21:50:44.528+01:00Thames Path 100 - Puzzle Piece 1<div dir="ltr">
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<u><strong> Thames Path 100 - The Grandslam Journey begins.</strong></u><br />
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It seems a very distant memory that moment I thought about running the Centurion Grandslam and an equally distant memory when Zoe agreed. Yet after several months of working training into normal life I found myself only moments away from starting my greatest running challenge to date. Training had gone reasonably well and there were no reasons to believe that I could not cross the finish line in Oxford. Besides for a race like this you have to believe you are going to finish or you are beaten before you've started. What I hadn't anticipated standing at the start line was just how much of an epic journey this race would prove to be.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All my bags are packed and i'm ready to go....</td></tr>
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I started a countdown clock to prevent any complacency and yet it still seemed like it went rapidly from 80 days to 30 days and then boom race day. I arrived the night before and stayed at a hotel with Sam Robson and our friend Nick. Nick was to be crewing Sam and so whilst they discussed meet up points I ran through in my mind the contents of drop bags and how I intended the race to play out. Having prepped my bags in advance there was very little left to do on that front. I instead thought about the race. My intention being to start off slow and try and keep an even pace throughout. There would be natural decrease in speed, but overall I wanted to see if slow and steady could win the race... Well not win, but... well you get the idea.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lucky monster made by my boy.</td></tr>
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On race day we headed to registration where it was as slick as ever an operation. The expectation on Centurion now is high and yet they seem to be able to get slicker. I love the 100 mile events they always seem to have a "Glastonbury for Runners" sense to them. A festival for runners spread over a weekend of pain and euphoria. Having run a few ultras I've got to know a lot of runners. Of course being rubbish with names I am them surprised to remind myself just how many people I know. At registration I caught up with many familiar faces. Drew Sheffield and James Adams were working on the pop up shop, whilst Gary Kiernan, Allan Rumbles and Matt Dunn were on kit check. Both Gary and Allan were pointing out that inevitably at some point we (the runners) were going to get very wet. Allan followed this up by very thoughtfully confirming he would think of us whilst having a pint. <br />
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With Kit Check done I lined up to get my race number. Granted I was initially in the wrong line until another friend David Barker said hello and directed me to the right line. We spoke about plans for the race. With David aiming for sub 17 this would likely be the only time I saw him over the weekend. I had the opportunity to meet Richard Stewart for the first time as well. He was looking ready to run a great time and again I didn't think i would see much of him over the race. A quick hug and hello with Nici and I had my race number. I swear that woman must cover more mileage than the runners over race weekend. I headed outside to dispatch my drop bags before the start. The slick registration process meant I had some more time to kill and so caught up with a few other runners. It was a great opportunity to catch up with Ultraboy (sorry I cant disclose his true identity) who I class as a good running friend since we shared a few hours on the SDW50 last year. After talking about are plans and build we both clearly had the same priority of making sure we finished. Everyone was in good spirits and you could feel the energy rising as the countdown to the start drew nearer and nearer. Wishing Sam Robson good luck I headed for the back of the pack. I didn't want to be drawn into a fast start only to burn out at mile 11. So some final catch ups with Bryan Webster, Rew Landells and Tim Lambert and we were ready.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to race.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Three Amigos.</td></tr>
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James Elson gave his final remarks to the runners. As ever he reminded us to keep safe and that at some point we were going to get wet. My personal favourite though was the warning to all those running through Reading in fluorescent that they would be shouted at and so to run quicker. With all the remarks completed the countdown began... 10.... 9...... 3.2.1... and we were off.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The calm before the storm.</td></tr>
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The race started fairly steady, following my intended pace plan. I was run walking from the outset. This was working well to preserve my Legs for as long as possible and so on I <span style="color: black;">trudged. I say trudged as I was struggling to find a rhythm. It was feeling like it could be a long day, but running this distance before has taught me that emotions change rapidly over 100 miles. Before I knew it I was in to the first aid station. I tried to take on plenty of food. As I was leaving a runner was dropping due to illness. At this point I was very much near the back of the pack. My pace suggested that I was doing just fine. I decided to trust that and either everyone else was going to have storming runs or I'd gain places later on in the race. And into the breach I continued. The weather was proving at this point to be pretty much perfect for running. I seemed to be heading out still at a good pace, but just not in a rhythm. Was it the monotony of the flat? The time of day? The fact it was mostly path or packed trail to this point? I wasn't sure but I told myself to "shut up and run" and then it happened... I looked up to see... Well nothing actually. There was no Thames Path sign, no acorn sign and no bloody ticker tape. I hunted around for a bit and to the outside world probably looked like the crazy guy not to be trusted. I searched around trees, gates and fences. FFS where did I go wrong there was NO obvious turning and NO way I could miss it. Despite this instinct I have learnt well enough now that in a Centurion race if you have not seen a path sign or tape then it is YOU who is at fault. With this in mind I began the galling task of retracing my steps. In doing so I bumped into another runner who had made the same mistake. Well at least I wasn't on my own in that error. We jogged back along the path and suddenly... A bridge, a fucking great big bridge, a bridge only the blind and me could miss. Worse still right by this bridge was a lovely Thames Path Sign and just out of the corner of my eye was the tape, whistling in the wind and beckoning me to the steps of the bridge. So Staines your park was beautiful, but I will never remember you for anything other than that blue bridge (or was it green). </span></div>
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I lost about 35/40min with this error and was kicking myself when as I crested the steps of the bridge I saw the sweeper below. He politely smiled and waved, but all I could think was "FUUUUCCCKK" and I took off like someone possessed. I didn't want to be caught by the sweeper and certainly not before the 2nd checkpoint. I overtook 2 runners and pressed on. Now of course this all sounds very dramatic , but the reality was I was well inside the cut offs. Yes I was near the back of the pack and that was why I saw the sweeper, but not because of pace. With the race being so flat I think people tend to set off at a rapid rate (this may account for some of the subsequent drop outs). Despite this I was determined not to see the sweeper again.</div>
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I shuffled on wondering if this was going to be one of those races where I spend the largest portion on my own and grind out a result. I still had not found a rhythm and it was frustrating. So it was with these thoughts that I was delighted to arrive at aid station 2. I received frankly an undeserved heroes welcome from Fi McNellis and Natasha Fielden. With a massive hug from Fi and shouts of "Dan the man there you are" I started to perk up in my mind set. I went and grabbed some coke from inside and saw Mark Thornberry who topped up my water bottles. He is always smiling and his positive attitude washed over me. I spoke to a couple of others. One showed me his Grandslam buckle. Two things:</div>
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1. It's bloody massive.</div>
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2. It reminded me that I am only in the first quarter of my challenge.<br />
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These thoughts put everything into perspective and I left the aid station with a handful of fruit and Natasha's cry of "see you in Oxford". </div>
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As I walked out of the aid station I thought about the enormity of what I am trying to achieve. Four 100 milers in 5 months. Today was more than just about today and I needed to preserve enough to be racing at SDW. It's no good dropping here over something stupid. No I needed to get on with the task and run. I phoned the wife and reassured her I was fine. I then got my head down and ran until i found some resemblance of a rhythm. In the build up to this rhythm I passed Tim Ellis who was out greeting runners. It's always nice to see friendly faces. My race really started to come together around the 30 mile mark. I was into my stride running every half mile and then walking 0.2 mile. It was getting me moving forward at a positive pace. The weather remained good and I was pressing on. I could feel my focus returning and my enjoyment of running had returned. I'd elected not to listen to any music and was enjoying the sounds of the birds and the rest of the wildlife. Oh and all the airplanes landing. I plodded through 30 miles and into 41 without too much event. Pace was good and I was feeling fine with my plan. The runners around me were not pulling away in spite of my walk run strategy. My enjoyment of the running also meant this all started to blur into one. I'm sure I caught up with Jon Fielden around this area as well, but this section of the race really had smudged in my mind. Save for one very comic moment... Running along the Thames Path I was into my full stride. I knew where I roughly was, but my focus was on crossing bridges and enjoying the view. As I crossed a bridge a family taking a stroll asked me if I was from the area. I said "no". They asked if I knew the way to Windsor. Now of course I bloody hope so given it was on my route. So I said yes and duly pointed them from where I had just come. I plodded on and so did they, until I paused about 5 minutes later. "Doh" I was running to and no from Windsor. So sorry to that family and I hope they didn't walk too far under my direction.</div>
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Towards the end of this first section about a mile or so from Cookham I met a lady coming back the other way. I immediately was flashing back to Staines and that blue or green bridge. I held firm in my confidence though that I had just seen a Thames Path sign. The lady (I didn't get her name) was panicking over getting lost. I plodded with her and passed on some reassuring words about following signs and tape and triple checking every crossing. The great strength of centurion is that if you have not seen a sign or tape for about a mile then you have probably gone wrong. Hopefully she finished as I didn't see her at all after 58.</div>
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Plodding out of mile 41 my right ankle was beginning to ache, but after this distance a slight ache is ok. Little did I know I would spend the rest of the race nursing my ankle, or more specifically my achilles. My focus was to get to 51 miles. I had a target time of 11:30, but nursing the ankle saw this drift back... And back. People I passed were now passing me and then I them. One lady (I forget her name) said I had made up time. I responded with "slow and steady" but I felt like my race was falling away. Up until this point I had been in control, even with the navigational error I felt I was managing my race. Running through fields It began to get dark. It became apparent that I would have to put my head torch on before half way. One of the couple's running only had one head torch on and as I passed they said "carry on we only have one working head torch between us". Not sure what happened for them, but I remember thinking that mandatory kit is two lights... What happened to your other three? I made the decision to walk the last 1.5 miles into Henley and rest my ankle. My mood was dropping and I was calculating my minutes per mile. I got myself into a better head space approaching Henley. My head torch is awesome. I'd set my battery on the petal nao to last 5hr30 and it was like I had a set of car headlights on my head. I have no idea what it would have been like on full power. It gave me confidence and as I came into Henley I ran into the aid station.</div>
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Embraced into a hug by Karen Webber and a quick catch up with James Adams lifted my mood. James told me that unfortunately Sam Robson had to drop. James went off to get my drop bag and out of the darkness came the moment that literally saved my race. My wife looking cute in her coat and hat. I chuckled at the contrast between her and me looking like a salty sweaty mess. Apparently I looked pretty good ( it's all relative I guess). I sat down and got changed into night/wet weather gear. I knew the forecast and elected to put on my waterproof trousers. How grateful I would be for this judgement call. After some hot food and a cup of coffee I was ready to go. I probably spent longer in this aid station than I intended, but it was essential. Big thanks to my brother in law for bringing my wife out to the aid station. I was feeling reenergised having chatted to them. My wife couldn't believe how bright my head torch was and decided (finally) that it was value for money :) As I left the aid station I looked around to see people starting to look broken. It may be a cliché, but this really was where the race began. Jeremy had arrived to sweep. He was early and I was under no pressure. I vowed not to see him again and left the aid station. So 13 hours down... 15 hours to get to the end.</div>
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Having seen my wife I left the aid station thinking about our children. I had my lucky sixspence in my bag. This was given to me for my first father's day by my boy. I had opened it at midnight on SDW100. This being one of my most treasured gifts I was determined to finish the race for the children. I want my children to grow up believing in magic and that nothing is impossible I hope these races are an example of that. Zoe and I had agreed not to drag the children to the finish, but nonetheless I would finish for them all. I had my monster still on my back and so with him for company we ploughed on into the night. <br />
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The rain came down in spells and it was clear my montane minimums jacket and trousers would do a cracking job. I was building momentum and ignoring the soreness of my ankle. I overtook a couple of runners and arrived at Reading. 58 miles done. Here there were a couple of runners looking broken. It seemed the drop rate was rising rapidly. Perhaps it was to do with the steps climbing into the aid station. For me this was a relief from the flat running and the muscles for climbing the stairs spoke to me like the neglected child. Keen to impress they bounded up the stairs. The welcome at Reading was a warm one and a chance to catch up with Paul Ali. He told me I was looking good. I'm sure this was a conspiracy between aid stations to perpetuate a lie. Susie Chan was going to have a selfie with monster (who was still in tact), but I forgot and was keen to get moving. Paul kindly threw me out of the aid station, reminding me to cross at the bridge. Just before the bridge I changed the battery in my torch. I didn't want anything to stop my momentum growing. The rain started coming down quite heavy as I negotiated my way out of Reading. My kit was doing a sterling job. I had taken my hat off to enjoy the rain. I only noticed just how bad the rain was when I ran my hand through my hair and it was soaked through, beyond this I was completely dry.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reading Aid Station</td></tr>
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By the time I arrived into 67 miles my ankle was struggling and I was having to be disciplined with a walk run strategy. I was growing in frustration, because all other parts of my body felt fine, but the mobility of my ankle was reducing. In and out of 67 I pressed on to 71 where I had a drop bag available. I took very little from it and pressed on. A runner asked to join me for a little. She was a little nervy of the upcoming section. I agreed and pressed on with my walk run strategy. The legs were getting heavier and I continued to do calculations in my head. I still had enough time to finish, but it was a lot closer than I would like. I had a grip on my plan, but it was potentially going to be close. By the 77.5 mile mark I was ok with exception of the ankle. A few more calculations and I knew I could still make it. The aid station crew were very encouraging and their positive comments had me racing out of the aid station. Then came the rain AGAIN, bloody rain. My kit was holding strong but footing at times was awkward. I was going slower than I would like and could feel my brain talking me out of a finish. It was ok though as the 85 mile aid station would be here soon... Wouldnt it??? The aid station seemed to take an age to arrive. My rational mind was failing me. As I arrived towards the diversion of the Thames Path to the aid station. </div>
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A smiley crew member directed me whilst clutching her umbrella. I'm pretty sure runners must now be looking like drowned rats. Both aid station 71 and 85 looked like they were hosting some of the walking dead. Drop outs were rising further, but I had no intention of being one of them. Inside the 85 mile aid station I was hoping they might tell me that it was actually further on. Of course the reality though was that 85 was 85. I was told I had 25 minutes to leave the aid station. I confirmed I wouldn't need that long and turned and burned out of the aid station in under two minutes. Retracing back out of the aid station I was tired and angry. I didn't believe that I had enough time to finish. Mental images of being timed out as the sweeper tapped me on the shoulder ran through my mind. Once back on the Thames Path I called the wife. Holding back tears of frustration I told her it was going to be close. Zoe told me I was 25 minutes up on the cut off and I knew she was doing her best to motivate without sounding worried. I knew my ankle was struggling and now my knee on my left leg was sore as I was compensating for my right ankle. Whatever way you look at it this was going to be tough. I was upset that my Grandslam was going to be over before it begun. I did everything I could to push on with a positive walk run. I was trying to build a margin in case the ankle gave out. Everything seemed bleak. As it stood I was going to finish about 5 minutes outside that cut off. Damn it if only I hadn't gone wrong in Staines.<br />
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Just as all seemed lost I reset my thinking and decided to push. Maybe the next aid station would be closer than my watch was telling me. My brain just convinced me to push on with a good walk run strategy. So I pressed and pressed as hard as I could. For every metre under target pace I had a shot. I was not giving up on the Grandslam without a bloody good fight. A roar was building inside me and I pressed. Then the wonderful moment. Based on my watch I was a mile away from Abingdon, but there it was Abingdon aid station. In a blink of an eye I had regained 15-20minutes on the cut offs. I had been struggling to take on food. As I filled a water bottle with Pepsi one aid station member advised to fill half with water. Wow!!! This was like rocket fuel. With positive cheers and encouragement I pressed on. This race was now about the last 9 miles. So I pushed into a walk run routine and all the time keeping my mileage under 18 minutes per mile. The gap was holding at 20 minutes from the cut off. Perhaps I could do this? Perhaps? I called my wife to tell her I was giving it everything I possibly could. She told me that the children were actually with her as Finley had insisted on coming to see Daddy. I told them I loved them and see them soon. My promise now was to finish in time for Finley. He wouldn't understand why Daddy didn't get a buckle if I had been timed out and would be devastated.</div>
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The terrain was irritating and difficult for my ankle. I was slowing, but trying to suck up the pain and press forward. I would not have this ripped from me now. It still felt beyond me, but heck I was not letting this slip through my fingers, I would not be timed out and so on I pressed.</div>
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Approaching the next aid station I passed Kevin who was struggling badly. Despite this he told me I was looking good and to go get my buckle. Aid station members were with Kevin and told me I had plenty of time and to go for it. So on I pressed with my battle for the finish. I loaded up with my "rocket fuel" and pressed on. I was advised this section is always further than you think. A strange thing happened at this point I convinced myself there was another aid station to go. As time slipped away I had it in my head there was over three miles to go. Then it happened.... A sign saying "Oxford 2 miles". You beauty maybe I could finally relax. I turned to a fellow runner (Liz), who was completing her first 100 miler and just checked with her pacer that we had been through the final aid station. We exchanged names, but I forgot hers I'm afraid as she really became my impromptu pacer as well and pressed me on to the end. </div>
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I crossed a bridge and joined the canal path to press for the finish with the clock still ticking. I was gaining places and yet somehow still was not sure I had it in the bag. At this point I approached a bridge and the sight of Drew Sheffield. Drew was exuberant with kudos and said "that bridge there is 0.8 miles to the finish and you have 30minutes." I swear that man has never been so beautiful. I pressed on and was given a reference point for how close I was to needing to turn into the finish straight. Every time I went to walk Liz's pacer shouted my name from behind me and told me to run, so I did. Then from over the crest of a small hill I saw the best sight so far... My wife. She looked relieved, delighted and a little surprised that I was so near to the finish. She told me Finley wanted to run with me and so ran back to tell him and others I was coming. And so with that I picked up the pace. I was not going to stop now. I turned into the field and there was the finish line. I picked up the pace for my usual Sprint, but this was no usual race. There he was my wonderful little boy. He saw me and shouted "daddy I run with you" with that he ran to me with open arms. So we held hands and ran the last 50 metres. The greatest 50 metres I have ever run. We crossed the line and I scooped him up for a hug. The one and only time I think when Nici didn't mind being the second hug. I hugged my wife and my daughter. The race was done. Nici gave my buckle to Finley to give to me and I was over the moon. The lion roar that I thought would come out across the line melted away to the awe of the event and the joy of seeing my family.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g1gYnoLhWt8/VU5XiuTorZI/AAAAAAAABIk/ExhrGyTRBnA/s1600/CR-TP100-2015-1206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="380" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g1gYnoLhWt8/VU5XiuTorZI/AAAAAAAABIk/ExhrGyTRBnA/s640/CR-TP100-2015-1206.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finley is simply my little hero and true inspiration.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GSQbUN08tfk/VU5YvY63OrI/AAAAAAAABJ0/TLAThQHpy9M/s1600/FB_IMG_1431197756612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="552" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GSQbUN08tfk/VU5YvY63OrI/AAAAAAAABJ0/TLAThQHpy9M/s640/FB_IMG_1431197756612.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure which of us had more fun.</td></tr>
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So it was done. An eventful race and an emotional one. Interestingly though throughout the race I felt in control of my plan and my running. The sore ankle and wrong turn probably cost me 150 minutes or so in total. The key today was to finish and on to the next race. I will be seeing a physio before SDW100 and looking at options such as taping my ankle. If I can prevent these issues then SDW100 should be a great race. This Grandslam is going to be even more epic than I first imagined. I may be an emotional wreck by the end, but get there I will. For me I think TP100 with its 28 hour cut off and terrain is harder than SDW. The pounding my joints took is not something that SDW tends to do... Famous last words.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9nS5MxjzvbA/VU5XhBOo8vI/AAAAAAAABIc/TNldazvZ-KQ/s1600/CR-TP100-2015-1208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="386" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9nS5MxjzvbA/VU5XhBOo8vI/AAAAAAAABIc/TNldazvZ-KQ/s640/CR-TP100-2015-1208.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Amazing little family. Moments like these are why I run.</td></tr>
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Finally I am touched by the responses I have had from the running community and I know from Zoe that she is far from the only one who was waiting for me to cross the line with anticipation. You are all an utter inspiration and thank you for your support. The Aid stations were great as ever and when it mattered set me up to kick on. I shall now be utilising "Rocket Fuel" from 50 miles onwards. To all the supportive strangers along the canal a massive thank you. To my wife and family a huge thank you. They were epic support throughout. Big kudos to Jon Fielden for his photograph and for the quality photographs produced by Stuart March. Some beautiful words post race from Natasha Fielden and the passion of Nici Griffin, James Elson, Drew Sheffield and many others has spurred me on to get this Grandslam. If I can do it anyone can.</div>
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So Grandslam part 1 done......</div>
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I just hope that family made it to Windsor!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monster made it. see you at SDW</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Achilles aftermath.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One down and four to go.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IFIC8CBiTFE/VU5X4bRVOBI/AAAAAAAABJI/m97x697uXrk/s1600/IMAG0697.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IFIC8CBiTFE/VU5X4bRVOBI/AAAAAAAABJI/m97x697uXrk/s400/IMAG0697.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love the new buckle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Monday recovery view</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Monday recovery view.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_haRAWGfxQA/VU5ZoXpX8BI/AAAAAAAABKA/NDJ4ihalHiA/s1600/Screenshot_2015-05-05-08-57-51_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="335" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_haRAWGfxQA/VU5ZoXpX8BI/AAAAAAAABKA/NDJ4ihalHiA/s400/Screenshot_2015-05-05-08-57-51_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Final thought for all those running or aspiring to run an Ultra.</td></tr>
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Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-88899120007352711712015-04-29T09:02:00.001+01:002015-04-29T09:03:08.015+01:00XBionic Soma Cap - A Review<p dir="ltr">It's no secret that I have been a fan of XBionic kit for a long time now. Yes it's expensive, but I have never had a bad bit of kit from them. As I am packing my bag for Thames Path 100 the sea of XBionic is apparent. Amongst that one piece of kit i expect may become a God send is the Soma Cap. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I have had this hat for over a year and a half. It's been worn in all conditions and franklys it's superb. I have never been a great fan of wearing hats. For me they I've get sodden with sweat, make my head too hot, don't keep the wind off my ears and many other issues. What i found myself doing on long runs was carrying three hat options. I would have my buffs, a cap and then a warm hat. I still carry buffs as frankly so Danny convenient, but the Soma Cap has dispensed with the need for multiple headwear options.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I cannot and frankly have no desire to go into the science debate that XBionic puts forward for its items. A scientist I am not! What I care about is how a product functions and whether it's right for me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The thing I first noticed with the Soma Cap is that it looked far too small. There was no way that this thing was going to fit on my head. It did though and very comfortably it has to be said. This is because the hat is super stretchyyyyyyyy. When on the head though it doesn't look stretched or distorted in any way. The added bonus of this is that it packs down really small, can be chucked in a pocket or scrunched up and shoved into that last bit of remaining space in the bag. For those concerned by such matters it weighs practically nothing as well.</p>
<p dir="ltr">When I've worn the hat over extended periods of time I have not been disappointed. It's incredibly comfortable, stops any sweat from getting in my eyes and at no point was the product soaked in sweat. It does a great job of keeping the wind off too. With the design being such that it covers the ears as well, the wind protection is a welcome addition. This has meant I have worn the hat on wet days... Or more precisely torrential rain, sunny but cold, bloody freezing days, mild days where it's windy but normally too warm for a hat and everything in between. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The hat is far from waterproof and not does it claim to be, but what it does do is dry bloody quickly. Consequently on long races I don't carry multiple hats. Nor do I worry about additional headwear in drop bags. The Soma Cap stays in my bag and accessible throughout races. It goes on and off as required, although I have previously forgotten I'm wearing it. During night runs I've found I'm not fully aware of how cold it has become until I take the hat off, so plus 1 for the insulation aspect as well. Further verification of this being that every year since I've run I have suffered with chillblains under my ears. Since wearing this hat I've had no I'll effects. Now of course other warm hats would probably achieve this benefit, but I had not found one that efficiently kept my head warm without over heating.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The product washes well and retains its shape. Mine has been washed several times and still looks like new.</p>
<p dir="ltr">It's only real limitation (in my opinion) would be no peak to keep the sun out and on extremely hot days you may not want the total coverage it offers. For me if it's sunny enough to not want a hat on that's when I revert to a buff and sunglasses. Let's face it how often does this scenario occur in the UK ;)</p>
<p dir="ltr">The price point of around £30 may put a lot of people off. For me the hat has proved excellent <font color ="#000000">value</font> and something I highly recommend. </p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-66000557462623338532015-04-21T16:20:00.001+01:002015-04-21T16:20:03.086+01:00Thames Path 100 fast approaching.<p dir="ltr">So with 10 days and a bit until race day the excitement is beginning to build. Having run 100's a 50 and been on a Aid station I can say I love every element of the Centurion Running experience. With beautiful sunshine only serving to ramp up my excitement.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I've not had a chance to recce the course, but between a map, course markings and the helpful pointers on the website I'm sure I will be ok. I've done a few races since my last 100 miler in 2013, but the 100 mile distance remains my favourite. I love the time outside and every aspect of such a race where after a little bit of running everything is about the moment you are in. I'm trying to be more organised this year not just with packing, but with knowing the checkpoints and target times. These targets are not to exude pressure, but rather to keep focus about running and nothing else. It's also to ensure I am disciplined and don't allow myself to set off too fast. This plan would result in a 23hr42 min finish. Let me be clear that this is massively optimistic, but in truth I genuinely don't know how fast I will go. I've trained reasonably well and I think I'm now a smarter runner than in 2013. I'm heavier than I'd like to be, but this is coming down. I guess we will just see how it goes on race day.</p>
<p dir="ltr">With the Grandslam in mind this race is to spring board me into the South Downs 100 where I hope to be nearer to goal weight. This year either way is about having some fun with my running family from which I have made some life long friends. It never ceases to amaze me how for such an isolated sport everyone, for the most part , are incredibly sociable.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So no doubt having said all this it will be torrential rain and unforecast snow blizzards on 3rd May. What ever happens I have no doubt all the runner will be in safe hands and enabled to have a great run. I've some amazing memories including my wife walking the last 9miles of SDW100 with me in 2013, openning my father's day gift at midnight on the SDW. For those of you who read my blogs, the lucky sixpence has fixed residency in my slab. I'm looking forward to generating a few more memories and looking back hopefully this will inspire my children to grow up to believe everything is possible with a bit of self belief and dedication.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So see you all at the race. Thanks for the encouragement on Twitter, in person etc. Will I finish in under 24 hours??? Anything is possible, will I have a whole lot of fun trying???? Absolutely!!!</p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-87180009383494056452015-03-24T19:02:00.001+00:002015-04-22T12:46:21.132+01:00Bingo: The Worlds Most Unfair Race<p dir="ltr">When James Adams announced his race concept I was intrigued. I used to love bingo as a child and marry it up with running what could go wrong??? The answer..... The sick twisted mind of James Adams. Now don't get me wrong I had a great time, but that man has a unique way of perverting the innocent. For those who ran in the race or know the concept you will understand my turn of phrase. For those of you who don't let me explain the race.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The race is made up of a repeated number of a 2.2 mile loop. How many loops? Well that is determined by blind stupid luck. Complete a loop and enter the pen. Here you go to your assigned ball bag. Pull a numbered bingo ball out of the bag and if it's one of your assigned numbers then BINGO it's crossed off and you carry on. Drawer your three allocated numbers and you're done. With 30 balls in the bag you could finish in any variant of 3-30 laps (6.6- 66miles). Add in a 10 hour cut off and its makes for a fun run. My particular favourite element was the race bibs. With your assigned numbers on the bib you would have the number struck out with black marker when drawn from the bag (more on this later).</p>
<p dir="ltr">The Bingo Race was announced with a date exactly 6 weeks from TP100. Seemed a great chance to benchmark my training.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I turned up on the morning of the race to a great atmosphere. A small field of idiots... Sorry... Runners were present and all seemingly prepped and ready for a fun day out. It was bloody cold, but no one was really arsed (marshalls excluded of course). I was a little concerned that a 2.2 mile lap would become tedious after 3 or 4  laps, but of course I'd be done after 5 or 6 right??? Right??????? Anyway regardless of lap total the race never became tedious at any point. I have to commend the route planning. It was a genuinely well thought out loop. There was some nice little climbs, you doubled back enough that you regularly saw other runners and The last mile pretty much always has the start/finish in sight. Aside from that the course was quite pretty as well.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The race started well a nice gentle jog to get familiar. I chatted to those a rounded me. There was a lot of banter around finishing 3 laps. I'd decided that I would hold a pace plan that matched my plans for Thames Path 100. 1 lap came and went... 2....3....4... Still no ball. By now the cursory glances at other people's race numbers to numbers crossed off had begun. On lap 6 I drew one of my three numbers. Good job as James Adams pointed out with a smile I was one of the last runners without a ball drawn. Ok now I felt part of the race so off we went. Well after a couple of jaffa cakes and a catch up with some familiar faces. Lap 7... 8...9...10... No ball drawn. I had begun to refer to the ball bag as the bag of disappointment. Still I was having a great day. James and his merry crew were providing suitable jokes and banter. Everyone was sharing laughs and the mood didn't drop at all throughout the day. The longer it went I think hysteria may have set in. 11... 12...13...14... No ball. Good fun? Yes? Was I going to dnf? Probably. Each lap I poked my head into gazebo just to confirm still no balls and grab a jaffa cake. Between Lindley Chambers, James Elson and James Adams I think they found it as amusing as myself. Tonight I would not be buying a lottery ticket.</p>
<p dir="ltr">As the field dwindled, with runners collecting their third ball and in turn a medal, the United front of the unfortunate few solidified. The knowing look of "here we go again" and then run a loop, brief moment of optimism and then carry on. As the light dwindled it was apparent that my chances were not in my favour... 3in30, 2in24, 2in18, 2in12... The odds improved but somehow it was clear to me that I'd be running until timed out.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So as I thought I came into my 19th loop and to my ball bag ready to draw out a ball. If it was one of my numbers I'd dash out on a final loop. No danger there then. So there it was. I ran as long as allowed and finished with one drawn ball. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I had a great day out and felt well prepped for TP100. I held a steady pace throughout and felt like I still had running in my legs. As experiments go this was a great race that I thoroughly enjoyed. My only critique would that on concluding my last lap everything was being packed up and I returned to start finish line in darkness. I'd been looking to grab a quick coffee before getting in the car as well. In fairness to James I don't know if there were tight time constraints to being on the land as a race. I would hope for future events that the start finish remains operational until last person crosses the line. With that said its a small critique for what for me was a cracking day out. I'd recommend future such events to anyone... Let's just hope your luck is better than mine. </p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-75730974924912891132015-03-02T12:53:00.001+00:002015-03-02T14:11:59.845+00:00Grandslam Training - The Weight Loss Demon<p dir="ltr">After a brutal run on the South Downs Way on Saturday I got to thinking how much easier and more enjoyable running is when you've lost weight. Granted being lighter won't reduce the wind speed or volume of rain, but it will lower the force running through my feet with every strike.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So weight loss is now a key factor of my training and not just a side thought. Nor is it something I'm now expecting to happen as a by product of my training. Like everything else in this challenge the weight loss will be hard learnt.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I need to remain thoughtful about all that I eat, drink and when and where I do this.</p>
<p dir="ltr">At the danger of this becoming a rant, although... it is my blog... So I'm going to rant.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Mcdonalds, McDonald's, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Pizza Hut. This little rhyme from school always concerned me. It is a sad indictment of society that Fast Food is a label for junk food and further that Fast Food is synonymous with convenience. As a result we have convenient junk food. If we replace convenient with lazy we are probably closer to the true term for such restaurants... Lazy Junk Food.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I am as culpable as anyone for grabbing a quick McDonald's or Burger King. My frustration has grown from the way the choice is thrust upon me. I spend a lot of time on the road and service stations are the worst. You have to make a considerable concerted effort to not succumb to the plethora of advertising and high calorie junk food. You are then left with an over priced waitrose or whsmith in which you then spend 30 minutes trying to find a suitable lunch. I wonder how many people have headed back out on the road after a sugar fuelled lunch or dinner, only to experience a sugar crash and realise they needed more rest before resuming that journey.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Of course all that is discussed is within my control so I will be using service stations as rest stops and preparing my lunch and snacks at home. The cost and calorie saving is incredible and over the course of the year the money alone makes sense. Factor in the benefits to weight loss and once again preparation becomes the important mantra. If I prepare my food I won't be tempted and I will in turn have more success.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So this week I will be training hard whilst running smart and in turn eating smart. All of course under the umbrella of proper preparation. Nobody said the Grandslam would be easy.</p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-10756677927730038592015-02-24T09:29:00.001+00:002015-02-26T15:15:42.992+00:00Grandslam Training - Training Smart and Running Smarter.<p dir="ltr">The clock still ticks and the TP100 looms. With 65 days to go that's a solid reality check if anyone needed one. In last two weeks I have been getting nervous. I guess it's more anticipation. I have run ultras since end of 2011, but with focus since 2013. More specifically I have only recently started training smart, with a view to really seeing what I can achieve. This has had the effect of truly reviving my love of running. I'm talking about that feeling you get when you stop thinking about the fact you are running. I also now understand the nerves of the well trained runner. I am fully invested in my efforts. On race day there will be no where to hide, no excuses and what I get will be what I deserve. That's an exhilarating sense of control, but also a responsibility that emits its own pressure.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So training last week was non existent due to poorly children and having a lot of work on and my nephew come visit. Historically this would have slid me on the rails, but the previous week of 97km and gym work has kept me positive. The combination of these polar opposite weeks seems to have jump started my system. I'm now feeling more upbeat and productive, both at home, at work and with my running.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Previously I would have run without purpose. Probably clocking up 20 miles per week on average. I am now training smarter and trying to ensure every session has a purpose. If I find something I don't like I explore that. Do I not like it because it disinterests me or because I can't do it. If it's the latter then I make it part of my training and smash it's door down. Then I start enjoying it. Once I reach this point I move to another door. This means my training has the balance between enjoyable and brutal.</p>
<p dir="ltr">My dirty secrets are that I've grown very fond of the treadmill as part of my training and also Strava for logging my efforts. The treadmill means I can give sessions detailed focus. An example being my hill sessions with a steady constant pace and every two minutes increasing the incline by 1%. I got to 10% before my legs had enough. I can plan and repeat such sessions again. With strava I find for me it generates a sense of accountability. I work to hit goals and be able to measure the improvement and sense of well being.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Of course the training is about being ready for outdoor races and the challenges ahead. No indoor training replaces my love of running outside. My last long run I tried to be more disciplined and run smart. I wanted a slow long run. So I held back at about 11minutes per mile. I felt rubbish at start, but this was more psychological. It became a comfortable rythmn. With this pace I was enjoying the run and not blowing out the reserves. This was evident in the last two miles where I felt like I had loads left and comfortably ran a 9min19 mile. With these sort of runs I am able to load up the training.</p>
<p dir="ltr">A recent article by James Elson made a lot of sense to me. My training seems now to be very polarised between fast sessions and slow. This balance works well and has allowed me to crank up the quality miles in my legs.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Let's see what the next couple of weeks bring, but I'm definitely improving. With a long run on the downs looming this weekend I'm looking forward to it and can't wait. Training means I will start the running with slightly tired legs, but that's part of the training as well.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So training is going well. Now time to really focus on managing food and shifting the weight.<br><br></p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-27555988449852564462015-02-06T14:17:00.001+00:002015-02-06T14:18:03.525+00:00Grandslam Training: 85 days to go.<p dir="ltr">Since my last blog training has been limited. Work has been mental and with little time to engage with my family let alone train the volume has not been what I'd hoped. With that said I've still trained and what I've done has aided progress. </p>
<p dir="ltr">In 85 days I will be 4 hours in to the TP100. I know in myself with solid training I will be ready. Now is the time to really hold on to that countdown clock and not lose focus. It's plenty of time to train , but only if that is consistent. Now it's time to start introducing long runs (20+ miles) into the mix. My plans carry an average of 50 miles running per week </p>
<p dir="ltr">I have made some determined decisions this week. I have gone back to roots of my training. I know what works for me and that is blood sweat and tears. So that's what we will do. At the gym this week I put the trance music on full volume and went for it. With effort rates up I was moving faster and lifting heavier. I know this doesn't work for everyone, but the little sadistic voice in my head is quite happy to beat me up.</p>
<p dir="ltr">All this holds to the point I've reflected on. Getting caught up in gimmicks can detract from the process. I've been guilty of seeing things work for others and thinking "I'll do that instead." Looking back the reality is I wasn't training enough not that I was training badly. Similarly I stopped using gels. Why? Probably because someone told me of "better" options. This applies to other aspects of my running as well. So thinking less and running more I'm back to training the way I love. I shall try running using Gu gels again. Aside from anything they are readily available during the centurion running events. I am also running in a shoe I'm the most comfortable I have been in years. Sure my set up won't work for everyone, but it only needs to work for me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">As part of my resolve I made the traumatic decision that until TP100 I am abstaining from sweets and crisps. This is a big challenge as I have a massive sweet tooth. My food diaries show these as holding me back. I want to run well and be healthy. Let's see what the end to the week brings and with next week a high mileage week I will check back in to make sure I have not lost my sanity or am searching for a haribo gummi bear under the sofa.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Happy training everyone.<br>
</p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-47355856014517210672015-01-29T11:09:00.001+00:002015-01-29T20:25:42.395+00:00Choices are a matter of Opinion<p dir="ltr">I have seen many situation of late where people have become quite annoyed when opinions of one person do not replicate their own. This has occurred both at work, socially and perhaps more substantially within social media.</p>
<p dir="ltr">For my mind the importance centres around the freedom of choice. You may think I'm an idiot (you'd probably be right) and that is your choice. How I respond is also my choice. Now of course we live in a world governed by rules and regulations that whilst not restricting all choices do provide ramifications for every action. I resent equally being told something is definitively good for me as much as I do being told something is definitively bad for me. We have all seen the messages shared about Coke and what happens to a coin in coke and therefore it's really really bad and will cause you to DIE!!! The scaremongering and in some ways proclamations of purity made by denouncing all things "bad" I find highly irritating. I'm a good person AND I like haribo, I even dare to indulge in it when out for a run. On the basis of some people's choice my legs are going to fall off and by age 35 I will be lucky if I can remember my own name. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I raise these points slightly flippantly to allude to the importance of individuality and preferences based on being an individual.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I try to remember the importance of choice not just when offering advice in the guise of an opinion (be these personally or professionally), but also when observing other people's choices and suggestions for what i should do. I strive to make myself better, but this has to be in the context of me and not someone else. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Thousands of people run Ultra distance races each year. It stands to reason what works for one will not work for all. Let's all remember that both when seeking and giving advice. A handful of informed choices will, for me, always be better than a plethora of unclarified opinions reported as fact. Let's support each other with information in a manner that lets us all enjoy our running and tailor our efforts to our individual needs.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The above applies to businesses across life and particularly in sport and media. Some of my favourite businesses are those that really strive to customise the advice they provide and that's because they recognise I'm an individual. Watch tonight (if you have not before) the adverts on tv (cosmetic adverts are the best at it) and see how many in some way infer "this will make you amazing and sexy and generally awesome" only to have in the small print at the bottom of the advert 12 out of 79 people agree. Yes studies of 79 individuals are being used to determine pseudo facts for the nation. </p>
<p dir="ltr">With a niche market like Ultra running everyone is learning all the time, who can really say how your body will react to running 100 miles, let alone whether the cause is your shoe choice or the burrito you had at mile 5. We need to live and learn through experience and sensible advice that then is validated through personal trial and error not assume it worked for 3 people so is going to work for us.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The main causes for such "factual" discussions in running at the moment seems to be Hoka's, Garmin vs Suunto, Synthetic foods vs Natural and whether to do long back to back runs in training or not. I fail to see how I can tell you what works for you. I can provide an informed view through my experiences. I often seek others informed views and ultimately believe this is what most people seek when asking the questions. What I find unhelpful (in all areas of life) is when people, companies etc... say "I prefer Garmin", "I like Hoka", "I don't like Hoka". It's very easy to see how such comments serve quickly to muddy an already highly opinionated water. If it was a school essay or a mathematical equation I liken it to being given the answer without the working out. I'm sure most of us remember being told by a maths teacher that you get marked for your working out. I think when giving an opinion it's essential to give the reasoning otherwise how does one know we are even considering the same or similar equations. For example I love the comfort of Hoka's but have over time found that they are not providing enough support to my ankle. I could just say "I don't like Hoka as they don't provide supoort". That's it a storm of views now would flood in to support or contradict. What I could do is <font color="#000000">add</font> flesh to that discussion and explain I tore my ATFL in 2008 and since have a weakness in my left ankle that I've not rehabbed properly and thus find my leg over compensates etc etc. Suddenly a very different opinion forms. I believe this opinion provides better insight when others are making their choices. This example might reassure some that the shoe could be good for them, or for some might provide a reason to approach the use of the shoe with caution. </p>
<p dir="ltr">In large part the product or service is not relevant. What I believe is important is to remember that we all are different with different choices that work for us and that is ok. Sometimes in this world we see people talking about being "offended" and that's ok, but Stephen Fry makes a brilliant response to the issue of offence,</p><p dir="ltr"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 19px; text-indent: -30px;">"It's now very common to hear people say, 'I'm rather offended by that.' As if that gives them certain rights. It's actually nothing more... than a whine. 'I find that offensive.' It has no meaning; it has no purpose; it has no reason to be respected as a phrase. 'I am offended by that.' Well, so fucking what."</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: -30px;"><font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, serif"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> Whilst I think we should not intentionally set out to offend it is inevitable, particularly through social media that someone will take offence. The action of purposefully offending I think can fairly be seen at times as trolling. How we all respond to such expressions of opinion is our choice. I think there is a great power in not being baited, after all we all have a choice as to how much of our energy is consumed by responding to things that are irritating to us. If all things were approached with a little respect and good humour then all our frustrations would be minimal.</span></font></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: -30px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"> As an individual opinions are important, but confusing them with fact must be avoided. To get the best from your running personalise your choices based on experience and constructive opinion. The rest is just irrelevant to you, but don't assume it's irrelevant to others, it just might be the information they need, provided in the formats they need to better their own running.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: -30px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"> Ultimately we might like an opinion, we may disagree and we may even be offended. When it comes down to it we are accountable to ourselves and we may sometimes get offended. We can manage these differences better in society and in a growing Ultra community if before we speak we ask the question mentioned by Stephen Fry "so fucking what."</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: -30px;"><font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, serif"><span style="line-height: 19px;">W</span></font></p><p dir="ltr"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 19px; text-indent: -30px;"><br></span></p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1548070179294612715.post-5977198781993158432015-01-26T17:27:00.001+00:002015-01-26T22:37:06.122+00:00Grand slam Training: The Beginning<p dir="ltr"><b>95 days until Thames Path 100</b></p>
<p dir="ltr">If you have read my plans for 2015 then you will know that my target races are the four 100 mile races hosted by Centurion Running. These races have come to be affectionately known as the Grand slam when all are completed in a single calendar year. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I felt the need for a significant challenge and with the level of service provided by Centurion Running it felt like a good combination of madness and support.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Once entered into the races I have set about looking at the key goals prior to Thames Path. Whilst each race after is spread out to occur every 6 weeks in reality this leaves little time for much more than maintenance work when factoring recovery time and tapering.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The two main goals were firstly to lose weight. Currently at 207lbs I have 35lbs to lose. Prior to this blog I have lost over 7lbs so this should all go a long way to significant progress. The second goal was to run regularly.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I have found it amazing how easy it is to deceive oneself that you are running regularly when in fact you are doing anything but. I realise many people have a built in hatred of strava , but logging everything on there has revealed my previous failings. Training regularly the last two weeks I can really notice the distance and an understanding of why if you  train properly then tapering becomes essential.</p>
<p dir="ltr">My family are fully supportive of my plans for the year. So much so that Zoe bought me a foot analysis at profeet custom and custom insoles should I require them. An awesome present if ever there was one. I have heard amazing things about protest and so was excited to pay them a visit. How much it would make a difference remained to be seen. Prepping for the Grand slam I want to make sure I lay solid foundations in my training so that when things get tough (and they will) I will know I can overcome it and keep going strong.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Visiting Profeet turned out to be an amazing and highly beneficial experience. I honestly cannot recommend them highly enough. I booked my appointment for a Saturday. All was running smooth until I got to the tube. Bloody line works meant major delays and so I was 20 mins late. I still received a warm welcome and was told we may not get it all done in one visit if next appointment was on time. I respected this a lot. After all if someone was running late and it then ate into my appointment time I'd be annoyed. As it is the other person was either late or didn't show. Whatever I got the full hour. Zoe came along with her kindle and expected to be bored. She loved watching the process and didn't get her kindle out once.</p>
<p dir="ltr">It was very unusual to be in an environment where talking about running 100 miles was not met with the staff clarifying they had heard me correctly. What I got instead was a focused and specialised experience. Talking through past injuries and a thorough foot inspection already was proving insightful. It's fair to say I'd forgotten about an old ankle injury in so much as paying any attention to rehab. The video examination of my running showed just how much body was working to correct the weakness in my left ankle. I could see in slow motion the bend and over rotation of my ankle. After this I ran up and down on a small path, running over a sensor. The sensor pad  illustrated the pressure my foot exerts and the movement of my foot. What all this evidenced is exactly the weakness in my ankle. </p>
<p dir="ltr">After the assessment process we were able to talk about suitable shoes and exercises to offset the weaknesses. This was incredibly heloful. I decided to get some custom insoles. This involved a thorough process of heat moulding and then building the appropriate cushioning. You can watch the building process live. I was able to leave Profeet with my insoles some solid exercise and stretching advice and knowledge that I could come back in three months for a free review. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Overall it felt like Profeet really cared about helping me better my running. Since this time I've been focused on my running and addressing the areas identified in the assessment. I've had some aches in my ankle that I've not had in a while, but these only evidence that I'm not allowing myself now to compensate for the weakness. Running in the new insoles I finally appear to have cracked my issue with blisters on the end of my toes and the insoles seem to stop any foot slippage. I'm building solid foundations for the crack at the Grandslam.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The first couple of weeks of training have gone well and I'm getting excited about recce runs and the races in themselves. Two unknowns and two route I know quite well. This is going to be the biggest running challenge I've had, but done right will set me up for several bigger challenges in the future. This is going to be hard, it's going to be exhausting, but every but of it is going to be fun.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Let it begin...<br>
  </p>
Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874014995090142601noreply@blogger.com0