tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61028091178206660512024-02-22T03:21:07.946-08:00Chapters in RunningCaroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-19305007368626062652017-11-25T20:58:00.003-08:002017-11-25T23:36:45.918-08:00The North Face Endurance Challenge: a shortlived high and many lows4am in a freezing park in Sausalito, Marin County, 12 hours after stepping off a plane in San Francisco, two days after running a work event in Edinburgh, three days after falling so hard on pavement after the first frost that my knee ballooned purple. I hadn't run more than 3 hours in a single run since the UTMB, and had struggled with training motivation, fatigue and filling life so full of priorities that at times I was breathless with self-imposed pressures. My preparation for this race was far from ideal and I tempered my expectations. Start slow, expect the struggle and stay with it.<br />
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Blindingly bright floodlights filtered across the field, lighting registration tents and an aid station. Yup, really; this race has pro facilities before you even set off. Coffee, fruit, bagels and peanut butter together with supplies of Scratch labs energy drink (my new favourite electrolyte. Sorry Tailwind, it's just not working anymore). And for the first time I've seen in any race there seemed to be enough Portaloos provided for runners, something to write home about indeed. 600 anxious bodies huddled around huge patio heaters spread across the field, waiting for the 5am start and Dean Karnazes to appear for the motivational speech. The RD wasn't wrong when he warned it would be cooler pre-dawn in Marin than San Francisco. The colder we got, the harder I knew it would be to start sensibly slow. I'd been warned by coach Ryan Gelfi that starting paces are suicidal, so I wanted to stay away from the first hundred or so runners, at least. Dean appeared, sending us luck and strength on his local trails. Actually, I have no idea what he said, due to the buzz of nervous chatter on all sides.<br />
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Off we went. Leaving tarmac and light behind for darkness, a dusty trail and the first long climb of many, out of Sausalito. I've been coming to Northern California most years since 2010 and am head over heels in love with this state; the redwood forests, Sierra Nevada mountains, pacific coastline, unbelievable marine life and character of San Francisco, unique as cities go. I'd wanted to run on the Marin County trails for years, but was distracted by other challenges in the mountains. Here I was finally, with no shortage of passion for this place yet zero experience of what the trails were really like, where to push and where to ease back.<br />
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Ryan's course preview helped hugely, he gave me an account of what to expect from personal experience running the race several years back. So his words were fresh in mind, from the early miles until a milestone climb at mile 19, that the first four climbs were easiest and I shouldn't have a problem running them. I largely did, a snail's pace at times trying to run within a sustainable limit. As predicted, I was far from bursting with energy and strength, legs heavy and strength of mind wavering. The gradients were runnable, certainly more runnable than UTMB, but herein lay the pressure. Everyone running everything! No mental or physical breaks on the climbs, and when it came to the downhill sections that would otherwise provide the respite needed to recharge for another climb, my knee bothered me and I was fully focused on avoiding falls. If you like a level gradient in your ultra, don't sign up here. The course really has zero sustained flat ground, save a mile or two after the rolling Muir Woods section at mile 38 and before the finish in Crissy Field. What it does have is luxurious, butter-smooth trail over open, rolling hills, down dry and shady forest trails and dropping to white sand coves, with some of the best views of the San Francisco skyline I've seen. <br />
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On the climb out of Tennessee Valley, mile 13, I finally gave myself a hiking break. These climbs were starting to tear apart my morale already and I didn't feel much of the grit and confidence I had during UTMB. And then we hit the summit before the descent to Muir Beach, at mile 17. Simple beauty, almost too much to take in. It felt a crime to keep running and not savour the panoramic pacific seascape that stretched for miles ahead. I had stopped to take photos earlier, when the sun rose over the San Francisco skyline, and did so again. What the hell, I'm here to enjoy it and a few photo breaks aren't going to make or break my race or place, most probably.<br />
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Ryan had said that the climb up to the first pass through Cardiac aid station from mile 19-23 was the longest of the route, and I had this target to preserve and pace myself for. As it started, I reminded myself not to panic that it already felt a struggle. It takes a while to warm back into a climb and once you get going your body adapts and the inner metronome takes over soon enough. The narrow single track trail transitioned to an endless series of switchbacks up the mountain. If this was UTMB...I kept thinking. I'd be hiking hard, poles in hand, committed to a long climb and knowing exactly what was ahead. I suddenly felt the stark absence of poles, and realised what an unhelpful loop of thinking my comparisons to UTMB were. Back to the switchbacks, one by one. If I'm strong I should start passing other 50 milers here, Ryan had forecast. No sooner had I started on the switchbacks than a crowd of chatty runners appeared behind. Being a narrow section, passing was tough so a frustrating stop-start ensued to let them pass. I re-focused. The next set of switchbacks, keep a strong core, keep my head up into the climb. Another hoarde of runners approached, like a herd of charging buffalo. Am I crawling up this? I let them pass. Then yet another 10 or so women danced past, stride smooth and moving efficiently up the trail, as if it were a 10k race. I cast a sideways glance at the next guy passing and noticed his bib, blue for 50k. I'd totally forgotten about the 50k. Turns out it had started a few hours after us, bypassing the first loops of our course and passing through Tennessee at 3.5 miles. So they were just a few miles in, joining our course for several sections before we split. I felt better, but still had passed very few 50 mile runners. Onwards, and finally to the top of the four mile climb and start of a rocky, rooty, woodland descent to Stinson Beach. I found myself able to have more fun down here than I'd thought, passing a few women - including an incredibly noisy one who I am sure spurred speed in many a runner around that section - and a few guys, to reach Stinson and 27 miles.</div>
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After Stinson came the first of the much steeper, more technical second half climbs, with deep, slippery wooden stairs set into the hillside. And so began the power hiking. I had known this would come and enjoyed backing off the pedal and settling into a hike. I'd eaten fairly well so far and took the opportunity to take on another Torq gel. So far I'd had a Torq every hour, small bites of flapjacks, a few aid station salt-dipped potatoes and a few slices of banana (whilst wishing aids would just give out whole bananas, the blackening slices always less than appealing), as well as a lot of Scratch drink, still tasting great at mile 30.</div>
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Back at Cardiac, I ditched my Salomon gaiters, which kept popping off (despite seeing me through all the UTMB training, they now have a need to escape) and messed around with my drop bag to find some inviting fuel. Giles appeared re-applying sunscreen and I asked if he wanted to run together. I had a stark absence of chat but thought we could push the pace better together. Leaving Cardiac I was looking forward to what sounded like a beautiful 8 mile section through Muir Woods, which was advertised in San Francisco as a stunning place to experience the Marin headlands. The forest was cool and peaceful and I felt the rare fire of endurance for the next few miles. The sort where you feel your energy is boundless and you can pass runners again and again without emptying the tank. Unfortunately my tank was finite. By mile 34 I was struggling up short, sharp climbs again and feeling the fire retreat, despite eating and drinking well. Giles took the lead and I followed for a while, until we popped out next to a road for a mile, the reprieve of runnable flat terrain on tarmac and then on singletrack through thick vegetation. And then there we were back at Muir Beach, mile 39. A few seconds of refilling
and refuelling and onwards for another 3 mile section to the penultimate
aid. And a stinger of a steep climb from here, the one we'd cruised down much earlier as the backdrop of deep blue ocean opened up for the first time. It was a testing hike, with a few short sections of easier ground in between consistently steep rollercoaster hills. </div>
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When we reached Tennessee Valley aid for the second time at mile 40 I was not in great mental shape, having a sense of humour failure at my performance and time slipping by. I knew I could finish a 50 miler so was questioning what I have to prove and why I brought myself here. My right IT band was nagging and my quads toasted. I usually love the feeling of pushing on tired legs in the late stages of an ultra but couldn't seem to tap into that feeling no matter how hard I tried. I'd also miscalculated and thought we had 6 miles to run from here rather than 8. So sub 9.30 was no longer possible. The A goal of sub 9 had slipped out of grasp hours ago. The final major climb leaving Tennessee Valley is a smooth dirt track, and Ryan had said if I was able to
run this rather than hike I'd be doing brilliantly. A few short stints of jogging were possible but that was about it. A few guys passed and we kept leap frogging until the final aid station at Alta, where I still felt shocking but decided to push with all I had for the final 6 miles to reach and cross the Golden Gate bridge. </div>
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The trail to reach the bridge access point was nothing short of breathtaking. Winding single track with the towering curves of international orange framing the sky ahead, and the greenspace of San Francisco's Crissy Field and Golden Gate park beyond. On the bridge we were silenced by the roar of traffic and gentle upwards curve of the pavement. It ain't flat! At 1.7 miles long, I left the last of my energy there as we were directed towards the seafront bike trail for the final few miles to the finish in Crissy Field. I pushed hard until we reached the finish, crossed the line with Giles in 9 hours 42 minutes, 150th overall and 31st female, 10th in age category. </div>
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With perspective, my race reminds me of the Rules of Being Human (see below): "There are no mistakes, only lessons. Lessons are repeated until they are learned. Learning lessons does not end". Sometimes I feel I have gained mastery over my body and it can perform to my expectations. Sometimes it does not, and it's important to question why and learn from this. Negative thought patterns, IT band issues, general exhaustion do not have to be par for the course, and send me a clear message that to perform at my best this late in the year I needed to allow myself more space for training and preparation, both emotionally and physically. And maybe not fly out with less than a day to adapt to a new time zone. Somewhere between finishing UTMB and November I lost the love of climbing that summer training gave me. After such positive gains in strength from long training weekends in the alps I'd pushed my boundaries enough to enjoy and excel at long, demanding climbs by the time UTMB weekend rolled around. I didn't have the time or the training ground to recover and excel again for TNF. I'm taking away positives too; that it is in fact possible for me to get round a complicated loop course without taking a wrong turn (thanks to incredible course markings); run 50 miles without falling; and know without doubt what my body and mind needs over the next months.<br />
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Within half an hour of finishing TNF I was compulsively shaking and curled on the dirt next to an aid table, unable to stand for lightheadedness and waves of nausea. Giles took care of me, collecting drop bags and generally being superhero support despite having raced 50 miles hard himself. I'm pretty sure this is <a href="http://www.twooceansmarathon.org.za/news/medical-newsflash-post-exercise-postural-hypotension">postural hypotension</a>, and I've only ever had it after 100 mile races, West Highland Way and Western States. It's symptomatic enough that my body was working on overtime for this race. It may be connected only to pushing beyond comfort for the final few miles, blood pressure up and heart working overtime, before the sudden stop and no cool down whatsover. No doubt I'll now be aware of this in future races, and try to keep moving over the line to slow the pooling of blood in the legs and make every effort to claim that finish line beer!<br />
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A huge thanks goes to Ryan at <a href="http://trailsandtarmac.com/">Trails and Tarmac</a> for keeping me accountable all year long, it's been an adventure. To Giles for looking after me, sacrificing his own post-race treats. And to all the wonderful race staff whose cheer made a difference to some dark places.<br />
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<a href="https://results.chronotrack.com/event/results/event/event-34168">Full results here.</a><br />
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<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-89901907024728120782017-09-09T02:03:00.000-07:002017-09-09T02:04:25.650-07:00Stick-to-it-iveness: UTMB 2017<br />
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Trudging up a steep trail of mud and slick rock, head bowed against driving rain and hemmed in between male runners continually surging past towards the 2,500 metre Col du Bonhomme. I am always struggling here. And it's barely 25 miles into the race. Mental inventory: what's up with me?<br />
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Friday, 6.30pm. I had a strong start, edging into the first 150 runners after the elite pen, in a starting field of over 2,500. I'd learnt from 2015, any further back and I'd be walking out of Chamonix. We were a nervous, fidgeting crowd. Raw emotions and hopes. As Conquest of Paradise blasted out I felt calmer than I'd expected, stomach still, breath steady. Ready. We left Chamonix, eating into the 105 mile, 30,000 ft circle around Mont Blanc. Most of us wouldn't return until Sunday, and 850 of us would drop along the way.<br />
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As we headed along the flattest section of the trail to Les Houches, I kept a steady and measured pace. This year, no pushing on the short, sharp undulations, let others pass by. The spectator crowds blew me away. Despite a far from ideal forecast, people lined the streets many deep and late into the evening in Chamonix, Les Houches, St Gervais and Les Contamines to cushion our journey into the high mountains.<br />
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The first climb, a steep and rocky ski road up to Le Delevret, high above St Gervais, was smooth and I let what felt like 100 men pass by. I was fuelling early and often and felt strong until the deep mud up to Les Contamines began to steal my confidence and energy. People still passed me by the dozens and I longed for the peaceful later sections where egos and eagerness would have diminished, along with the constant scrape scrape of poles and sounds of human effort. Even 'allez, allez' began to grate, I needed some space and silence and perhaps the next climb would bring it.<br />
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Back on the climb to the Col du Bonhomme, the wind was whipping and rain began pounding, distorting the beams of headtorch light. I reminded myself - deal with every issue as it arises, and they will be temporary only. Physically I know I can do this. Up at the Col conditions were truly wild. I'm lucky to experience the UTMB in two years of opposing weather; in 2015 it was baking hot and today it was wintery and wild, much like Scotland. In 2015 by this point I'd already had 5 toilet stops with demoralising GI issues, this year I'd had none - so get on with it. It's just weather.<br />
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The technical ridgeline trail to the Refuge de la Croix du Bonhomme was especially hardcore; a few miles of suck-it-up wind chill and ankle-bending rock. Nobody stopped along these high points, it was a race of endurance to each descent. I stopped drinking and eating and felt the effects of this 5km later in the valley, Les Chapieux. I had problems to solve quickly in the aid station; my back, just 28 miles in, was badly chafed by the bottom of my pack. Perhaps my pre-race routine was not diligent enough. I didn't feel like eating and one of my gaiters kept popping off, meaning many quick stops. A few minutes of re-applying anti-chafe, forcing calories down and a toilet break and I was back on the short road section out of the tiny village, kept company by a friendly, chirpy Australian girl called Robyn, who ran an incredible debut to finish 10th.<br />
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Over the next few hours over the Col de la Seigne my mind and stomach fell apart temporarily. I can't explain why I wasn't eating properly, I know better. I began to feel nauseus and lacking. Yet more men came marching past and icy showers met us higher on the col. No hanging around here. I silently thanked the UTMB organisers for cutting the next technical climb to Pyramids Calcaires (which does seem an illogical detour off the TMB at any time). At Lac Combal I had a word with myself, I must fuel properly no matter how little I want to. So I ate well here, almond bars, soup and some Coke for the first time.<br />
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It wouldn't be long before the sun came up but the next few hours before dawn were bitterly cold on the 500m climb up to Arete de Mont Favre - one of the most breathtaking vistas on the course. Now just a 7km undulating then steep descent down into Courmayeur. The field was mercifully thinning and less men were charging by. 'Run mindful' mantras ran through my mind constantly as I passed technical sections of trail where in the past I've fallen or sprained an ankle. The descent was a joy this time around. Would Liz meet me in Courmayeur? I'd said I didn't need anyone but secretly hoped she would be there for ten minutes of human connection and a smooth transition. <br />
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And there, outside the sports centre, she was, cheering and positive. I had no idea where I was in the ladies field but reckoned nowhere near the top 30, yet Liz told me I was closing a gap to reaching it, and Sally McRae had left the aid ten minutes earlier. I ate well - pasta and rehydration salts - and re-stocked with gels and bars for the next long stage. In 2015 it was 11 hours from here until Champex Lac and my crew.<br />
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On a good day, I love the steady dry switchbacks up to Refuge Bertone, a halfway landmark from fun recce weekends, and enjoyed a laidback chat with a guy from Montana and then Amy Sproston. Amy had already passed me no fewer than four times in the last 20 miles, continually having to stop due to GI issues but running an inspirational pace with a smooth and strong gait in between. It was surreal being around world class runners and I felt detached, like I was in a different race. Towards the top of the climb I passed Sally McRae, who seemed to be battling some issues.<br />
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It was extremely cold up there on the ridge between Bertone and Bonatti, a favourite section of fairly runnable single track. Bonatti would be a milestone, where I'd said I'd text Liz and Giles an update. Now I had elites chasing me and was entering the thick of the race, just over halfway which I always feel is harder mentally than the latter sections. So far to go, hard to run the inclines, getting tough to stop and start constantly, fuel is entirely unappealing, runners starting to drop at checkpoints.<br />
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We ran out of Italy and into a storm. After Arnouvaz, thick clouds formed and a brutal wind picked up, throwing down hard showers of hail and, higher up, snow, just as I set foot on the Grand Col Ferret climb. I can't stand running in waterproofs but had no option but to stop and put on pretty much all my spare kit. It felt like a slow climb, with all of my focus taken on moving forward into the wind and not much left for eating and drinking. The col was beautiful, dusted with fresh snow and surrounded by a skyline of white peaks.<br />
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On the way down to La Peule I passed several women but still felt slow. Every time I took off my waterproof the rain would start again. At La Fouly I took care of myself properly knowing I would spiral if I didn't; salty crackers and cheese, soup and coke restored me a little. As I left I saw Sabrina Verjee, recent Lakeland 100 winner, just behind me. It was soon apparent that the route from La Fouly to Praz de Fort had also been changed, and instead of the riverside trail and narrow singletrack through the forest we were re-directed 7km along the main road. I loved it and ran well, the road was nothing short of a respite. As we finally left it to rejoin the trail at Praz de Fort I felt surprisingly upbeat, excited even. Just another few miles to the climb I'd grown to love up to Champex, and my crew. Sabrina caught me and it was refreshing to talk to her on the ascent, which was a mudbath. I felt almost deliriously positive but worried a crash may follow so forced a chocolate flapjack down. If in doubt, eat.<br />
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It was amazing to see Giles and Liz and in the warm madness of the huge marquee I attempted to change clothes, socks, deal with chafing, eat, drink and talk, a messy whirlwind. They'd brought an impressive savoury selection and quiche and rice salad tasted so good. I left in just under 20 minutes ahead of Sabrina and got into a good stride after the road climb out of the town. The miles to Plan De L'eau melted away and I knew I could take on the climb, the first of the final three. I knew it well now, its brutally steep rocky sections but the gentler switchback reprieves that came after. Up above on the ridge the brightness in the sky gave me a new confidence, reminding me that by this stage in 2015 I was running into the twilight. Next came more mud, technical rooty descent and being saved again and again by poles. From Champex to the finish last year took 12 hours, with this section to Trient taking 4. In the recce Jamie and I had taken 3 so I knew I could improve here and capitalise on how I was feeling. It felt amazing to run into Trient in 3 hours 11 minutes and this stoked the fire to finish as fast as I could. On the last mile into the aid I passed Magda Boulet and Amanda Basham although I didn't register who they were at the time.<br />
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12 minutes in the tent: potatoes, raclette, rehydration salts, painkillers - G & L had it all! Together with my iPod fired up for the first time I felt ready for the penultimate 900m climb up to Les Tseppes. Marching up the track to the start of the switchbacks, I could hear Magda, Amanda and KC Lickteig behind me, forming a team and chanting "two more climbs". They were upbeat and I let them pass, their pace was inspiring but I wanted my own space and to keep my own. I was comforted by comparing my state tonight to the state I was in here two years ago, when I'd tried unsuccessfully to snooze at the side of the trail. The descent finally came around, bringing with it deep pole and ankle-sucking mud and horizontal rain. Visibility was terrible and it was all I could do to stay on the trail with a very slow jogging pace. Grit flew everywhere and it was hard to fuel myself and keep focus so I just concentrated on small sections; the muddy mountain bike switchbacks; the rooty flatter section to the ski lifts marking the border back into France; the rocky few km's of ski road; the final technical rocky descent into Vallorcine. I arrived in 2.40, well below my 3 hour target, overjoyed but shaky and undernourished.<br />
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Giles was purveyor of the saltiest fries I've ever eaten - tasted amazing - and together with Liz worked to re-stock and refuel me for the final push, the re-routed section from Col des Montets through to Tre-le-Champs and up to Flegere. Sabrina was back and we worked together until the Col but as we started up the difficult ground I felt the first struggles of sleep deprivation and was weaving around the trail with many an involuntary thought popping into my head. I got music back on and tried to get into a steady stride. The normal race route to Flegere is a continuous climb but this new route had us climbing 300m before dropping almost to Argentiere and climbing another 500m from there. The less said about this section the better, it sapped all I had mentally and physically. Several folk became concerned on the descent that we were off route, that we'd followed OCC signage rather than UTMB. A group of us called race control and then Gavin, who'd run the CCC, and both confirmed we were on the right course. We'd wasted 20 minutes standing still and I was kicking myself for not being assertive and carrying on, as I'd never doubted the UTMB course markings before - they were nothing short of exceptional throughout.<br />
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I cracked on, burning through with a reserve energy I didn't know I had. An hour later we reached a long stony ski road and I knew we were close. Thick fog and neon course markings distorted my view and I felt like we were on another planet. Every time we saw a new light I was sure it was Flegere, and every time it was another course marking. We were now a pack of runners, talking in Spanish, English and French but working together. But here was Flegere finally, a ghostly tent on vast grey terrain. I was done stopping and starting so walking right through to start the descent.<br />
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My memory of the 8km down to Chamonix is of pure endurance section by section. After 3km of technical rooty, slippy trail comes La Floria, after which the technicality eases significantly. Then a runnable but rocky fire road and, eventually, the final 1.5km road loop through Chamonix to reach the finish line. I remember zoning back into my body with a jolt, feeling like I'd not been in my own head for minutes. How was my body still running on it's own? A strange and incredible autopilot had kicked in to seemingly save my last remaining energy.<br />
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In Chamonix I wanted to smile, laugh and cry but my internal zombie runner was now in charge. The spectator noise was deafening even at this unsociable hour of 2am, and soon I saw my lovely crowd; Giles, Liz, Lorna, Gavin, Damian, Louisa and Julie. The finish line was a confusing assault on the senses, which I crossed in 31.42, 189th overall, 20th female and 14th senior female.<br />
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I'll spare you the messy finish details but soon enough my old friend low blood pressure was back and I was dizzy, nauseus and completely out of it. I narrowly avoided sickness in the taxi home and found myself wiped down enough to crawl into bed. I'm eternally grateful to all those who were there for me: sent me words of encouragement before, during and after; were there through thick and thin in the race (Giles, Liz); pushed me around three punishing recce weekends (Jamie, Carrie); ran faster than me in the race and inspired me to follow; and peeled my sweaty clothes off in the men's toilet off a pub straight after the race, not taking no for an answer (Lorna!). Coach Ryan you have been a constant and responsive support through my training, helping me develop the tools to find another gear in this race, thank you. The reciprocal culture of the ultrarunning community is nothing short of special and forms bonds that are never forgotten. <br />
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More than once in the race I was reminded of a quote I have pinned to my office wall: <br />
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
"The three great essentials for achieving something worthwhile are hard work, stick-to-it-iveness and common sense" (Thomas Edison)</h4>
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Sometimes in life I feel I struggle with sticking to it but race experiences like this show me I can, in races and elsewhere. With a few days of perspective some of the things that helped me were:<br />
<ul>
<li>Sticking to the pacing plan, and letting the hoards of men pass by early on</li>
<li>Letting myself be inspired not threatened by the formidable elite women around me</li>
<li>Knowing all discomfort will be temporary and knowing myself well enough to remember I love the feeling of pushing hard on tired legs at the end of a race; always try to get to this stage</li>
<li>All of the steep and ruthless sections of trail are followed at some stage by kinder sections where I can breathe and recover - the relief and reprieve will always come.</li>
</ul>
The full results are <a href="http://www.utmb.livetrail.net/classement.php">here.</a><br />
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The I Run Far results article is <a href="http://www.irunfar.com/2017/09/2017-utmb-results.html">here.</a><br />
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A Scottish Athletics write-up is <a href="http://www.scottishathletics.org.uk/28700-2/">here.</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitptREEvhy3levKyAwUCv6UBA14gWohTIXWbjDl2oDvLVMy865TjsVnfWaKFCF4YPwO1gnrZzIZYwwmxPIELdCQVrlwn-CLnN9idju-_23-QQXAeL4FuPJQxLz9Daid7oYyrC02b2Ik8A/s1600/IMG_8421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitptREEvhy3levKyAwUCv6UBA14gWohTIXWbjDl2oDvLVMy865TjsVnfWaKFCF4YPwO1gnrZzIZYwwmxPIELdCQVrlwn-CLnN9idju-_23-QQXAeL4FuPJQxLz9Daid7oYyrC02b2Ik8A/s400/IMG_8421.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Essential kit</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-fEoJox0z3aO0OwRzbIUB2nfy01-r_1y8GsBnUmWKANJtZ5ORY1fCDvQtujlPdEPYtmNJD7Ng2mqFObdn9x8jj01wylc6kUcZXqPmXadzH6do-opljYXvt2erBQ2Kdn38wqq63F5L-hU/s1600/IMG_8434.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-fEoJox0z3aO0OwRzbIUB2nfy01-r_1y8GsBnUmWKANJtZ5ORY1fCDvQtujlPdEPYtmNJD7Ng2mqFObdn9x8jj01wylc6kUcZXqPmXadzH6do-opljYXvt2erBQ2Kdn38wqq63F5L-hU/s400/IMG_8434.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The start</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20Bbtn0jFY5YuZQD1QBqQpemDvL3jGv2m5plaaEAfeDxMzQihDiZwcXMPFZnl0rqwqPxiUli5t4LHzlUK6uDy78JbvXcdr-NtYIMUZywY-KL_zgEPbH62DsXhrk809Tc73VBugLmm6sI/s1600/IMG_8476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20Bbtn0jFY5YuZQD1QBqQpemDvL3jGv2m5plaaEAfeDxMzQihDiZwcXMPFZnl0rqwqPxiUli5t4LHzlUK6uDy78JbvXcdr-NtYIMUZywY-KL_zgEPbH62DsXhrk809Tc73VBugLmm6sI/s400/IMG_8476.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh clothes and support at Champex Lac<br />
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Reaching Trient</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVlphGhSdiZypgtC5dsCFGbpAnMRTGHUnvRI6xGvgQLjBjOkETC7yx6pgTZVjwHm4hln8EJRlHNuw0VILVFW5MLTRi7n47h6LcLx9QsLYdyj92RH2XVmZxUR4D2LrDRgJE_zNiItT84c/s1600/IMG_8475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVlphGhSdiZypgtC5dsCFGbpAnMRTGHUnvRI6xGvgQLjBjOkETC7yx6pgTZVjwHm4hln8EJRlHNuw0VILVFW5MLTRi7n47h6LcLx9QsLYdyj92RH2XVmZxUR4D2LrDRgJE_zNiItT84c/s400/IMG_8475.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Food choices at Trient</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My only photo from the race, high above the Swiss valley en route to Trient<br />
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Chamonix from Flegere (taken pre-race)</div>
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Congratulations fellow gilet-wearers :-)<br />
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Some of our team, recovery hike to La Jonction<br />
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Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-20227624683208145432016-12-19T13:28:00.004-08:002016-12-20T02:33:12.460-08:00My Winter West Highland WayI learnt a few important things during the West Highland Way run this weekend which I won't forget soon. These may make more sense after reading what unfolded throughout.<br />
<ul>
<li>My friends, family and running community are nothing short of amazing, and accepting help is ok sometimes. THANK YOU to all those who kept me going and to every single donor. You were all part of this and it was through and through a team event.</li>
<li>No matter how much you want such challenges to run smoothly, no matter how much running experience you have, they seldom do and you just have to accept the difficulties. Don't give in because of perfectionism. I'm reminded of a quote from The Rules of Being Human "A lesson is repeated until learned. It is presented to you in various forms until you learn it".</li>
</ul>
<b>Why this?</b><br />
I'd had the idea to run a midwinter West Highland Way earlier this year, and it crystalised after I started working for Link Community Development and visited Ethiopia, seeing the struggles that children go through to access a decent education. I realised I hadn't raised money through my running for a few years and it all seemed to fit together for this winter, whilst Ethiopia was still fresh in my mind to talk to people about. The lovely Murdo McEwan said I might be the first woman to complete this, and whilst I hadn't been aware of this we thought it would be a good hook to raise the profile of Link's work. I wasn't concerned about following the 'rules' of midwinter West Highland Way attempts - I just wanted to cover the miles as close to midwinter as I could - but running north to south seemed a great idea to change things up from always racing south to north, plus finishing in the central belt closer to everyone's homes was an attractive proposition.<br />
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<b>The plan</b><br />
1) Run north to south, starting 9pm on Friday in Fort William<br />
2) Definitely a supported run: two crews for the day: Giles, Jamie and several of our Trustees Alasdair and Mark through the night, switching to my Dad, Julie and Liz from Tyndrum/Beinglas. Support runners and amazing cheerleaders Lorna, Carol, Dawn, Matt, Gavin for the final miles from Balmaha.<br />
3) Strategy: stay present, no pace pressure, no racing, take things section by section. When feeling rough, eat and drink. <br />
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<b>The start</b><br />
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I didn't expect this to be the hardest part. Jamie was kindly running with me for the night section, and we set off from Lochaber Leisure Centre - the finish line of the West Highland Way Race - just after 9pm. We felt great - fresh legs, a bright moon, very light rain but mild temps and lots to discuss. We hiked/jogged the few miles up above Fort William, with Ben Nevis looming to our left beneath a starry night sky. The West Highland Way follows the fire road to a left turn onto rolling single track trail, 7 miles total from Fort William to Lundavra. I'd known about this section of the trail being closed for forestry works but wanted to see if we could get through - failing this we could still climb back up to the fire road and take the diversion (the signs indicated following the road 7.5km would take us to Lundavra). Around 1.5 miles down the trail we came up against a heap of felled trees but this looked passable to trail beyond. Clambering over, we were faced with ankle-deep mud with the original trail becoming unrecognisable, into a network of mud tracks created for forestry vehicles. After following what we thought would be the main track through to Lundavra for another 10 minutes or so, this ended at a muddy drop, with no trail in sight. We were so close to the road but there was no way through. In darkness and with no idea where the trail was, we decided the best plan was to retreat back to the fireroad for the diversion - demoralising though backtracking 1.5 miles at this stage was.<br />
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We managed to cut up to the fire road and ran back along this to check diversion signs at the trail turning once again - with no phone signal and the very unclear forestry map on the signage we thought we'd try follow the fire road back up the way we'd just run, surely this was the 7.5km indicated in the forestry signage (returning to Fort William and along the B road would be well over 10km). We ran along the fire road for a second time, another mile or so, but yet again this ended in a dead end, a steep drop down to the river - with no trail or other road in sight and no sensible option rather than to return back to Fort William. Still no phone signal and a sense of dread rising inside. We were stressed and haemorraging time - this could end the run.<br />
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Thankfully, halfway down the hill back to town we found a few signal bars and got through to Giles, who had been waiting in Lundavra for nearly 3 hours now (this split was scheduled to take 1.5 hours). He drove to Braveheart car park at the bottom of the hill and met us. We had no options to make this a 'clean' run now - we'd now run nearly 12.5 miles and to follow the B road would take us up to a crazy 19 miles for what should have been just 7 miles, making the 95 mile plan into a 107 mile run and putting the entire thing at risk. I didn't want to callit a night and restart in the morning as this would mess logistics up for crew and be extremely difficult mentally. So given the extra miles we'd already covered we jumped in the car and drove to Lundavra, restarting the run from there, 1 hour 40 minutes behind schedule. I struggled with the stress of this for a while, and got pretty cold in the meantime from all the hanging about discussing what to do - but after a few miles Jamie and I got back into our stride across the rocky Larig Mor. It ended up a strong and steady section give or take one fall in which I managed to rip my lovely new all weather tights. We reached Kinlochleven in 1.34, making up a little time.<br />
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<b>Kinlochleven to Tyndrum</b><br />
A quick stop for a falafel sandwich and on we went, hiking the climb out of the village. It was chilly up towards the Devil's Staircase, with a cold wind picking up. But nothing compared to the winter weather we could have had - it didn't drop below freezing at all and the moon helped light the trail. My favourite part of the West Highland Way, this was special to run at night, and descending the Devil wasn't as dicey as I'd imagined. Down to Altnafeadh and a quick drink and bite of pasta from Giles before a steady few miles up to Glencoe ski centre. I felt strong again and wondered how much more time I could make up. I didn't ever think I'd be struggling to make a sub-24 hour run but the morning's mishaps had seriously put that into question. Section by section, stay present, I remind myself.<br />
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Jamie stopped with Giles at Glencoe, having given me fantastic company for most of the night. I left here after more pasta, to experience Rannoch Moor at night and on my own for the very first time. I still felt good, watch reading over 30 miles in, glad I was on this section when still relatively fresh - the boulders and their shadows could easily take on human forms to a tired mind. The coldest section for sure, there was a vicious headwind at points and I allowed myself a few 30 second hike breaks before spotting Giles running up towards me from Victoria Bridge. A quick sock and shoe change (Stance socks - absolutely worth the money!) and off again down the road to Inveroran. Jamie joined again for a slog up Jelly Baby Hill and we'd just been chatting about Murdo when we found a plastic wallet full of jelly babies and lovely wishes. He'd been here on schedule just a few hours earlier! Amazing kindness from the King of JBH.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGSmddqA8UwGALoU-yfxeYamgrdLBJyIEE0cAKu4j5Uq6r0CMtEZVRBzcy3O7QVNtymynf8YJcqlMFLqXd9Bl6mZAEP13j5XfdOpUOiDUPRKtaOjnAIdP7URqxfreMEsJFg2VtGmsL74/s1600/15542076_396288644046228_7677082123002300518_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGSmddqA8UwGALoU-yfxeYamgrdLBJyIEE0cAKu4j5Uq6r0CMtEZVRBzcy3O7QVNtymynf8YJcqlMFLqXd9Bl6mZAEP13j5XfdOpUOiDUPRKtaOjnAIdP7URqxfreMEsJFg2VtGmsL74/s400/15542076_396288644046228_7677082123002300518_n.jpg" width="300" /></a>Bridge of Orchy was a good milestone, one of our Trustees Mark Beaumont (not that one) was due to join on his MTB to cycle with me over to Tyndrum. Quick eats and bottle change and off we went. A little headwind again and a lot of standing water on this section but it unfolded fairly smoothly.<br />
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Down into Tyndrum - and hello to Murdo, who popped up in person, then my lovely Dad, Giles and Jamie. Mark sent me on my way with a shot of his home ground Ethiopian coffee (really mastering the middle class running nutrition today) and I had a few spoons of oats and was able to take off my headtorch for the first time - absolute joy! Then off solo to Auchtertyre. I have to say this was one of the highlights - a bruised red and purple winter sky dominating the landscape ahead, and enjoying the beautiful single track trail next to the river for a few miles.<br />
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<b>Into the south</b><br />
Into Auchtertyre I stopped for another 5 minutes for more oats - ready for a long section of rolling hills to Beinglas Farm, and another milestone where I'd see Julie and Liz for the first time and have running company until the finish. Murdo joined me to hike up the first major hill, then I soaked up the solitude and some iPod time until Jamie met me a mile or so before Carmyle Cottage. The Crianlarich hills and a windy coo poo alley had my quads complaining, and by Carmyle I had a few more spoons of oats and some of the most incredible tasting ginger beer, which became coke replacement for the day.<br />
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Giles ran with me for 4 miles until Beinglas, and pepped me up by reading out messages on Facebook in funny accents, and stopping to film at the most unflattering angles possible. We had a giggle and hiked the little hills to reach Beinglas campsite - stocking up point. I wouldn't see any crew for 14 tough miles around the Loch Lomond shore and through the remote Inversnaid. My triathlete friend Liz joined me for the section - her first run on the West Highland Way after crewing for me in the summer, and on probably the most technical terrain - doing a cracking job of chatting now and again and setting the pace. Her chat of starting pro triathlete training of 3 sessions a day actually made me glad to just be running!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQXbyk9qU_0Y6E4wRbMpQiDPHcvAj7sRd04R7Dv_Ai0E53t3l3EcvbX-vY5pHkxIi-FOxLWodCW5_iNtPu4-xBT_E5iybe3bE61iF-GsAwnomapDzQ8RXL6eCAsEQASoGImVAOV2vVig/s1600/Carmyle+Cottage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQXbyk9qU_0Y6E4wRbMpQiDPHcvAj7sRd04R7Dv_Ai0E53t3l3EcvbX-vY5pHkxIi-FOxLWodCW5_iNtPu4-xBT_E5iybe3bE61iF-GsAwnomapDzQ8RXL6eCAsEQASoGImVAOV2vVig/s320/Carmyle+Cottage.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMFvPkUxcJsFBEjwK1XD4t_dxpUcY9OeV76FCBwoZIJRugJU5lC9m4ZP0hDUcmLUAOpWwXnIkVub20cJyA9qf9fSX2Rjoarx3gdZn-Xhcam-igT6Vyvy-QxrHmcJyjvqADSUa5DQYfVQ/s1600/Beinglas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMFvPkUxcJsFBEjwK1XD4t_dxpUcY9OeV76FCBwoZIJRugJU5lC9m4ZP0hDUcmLUAOpWwXnIkVub20cJyA9qf9fSX2Rjoarx3gdZn-Xhcam-igT6Vyvy-QxrHmcJyjvqADSUa5DQYfVQ/s200/Beinglas.jpg" width="150" /></a>More mental calculus - if I can manage Beinglas to Inversnaid in under 2 hours, then same again to Rowardennan then I can bank a little more time. We reached Inversnaid Hotel in around 1.45 and stopped for 5 minutes for flapjack and water before heading up the rollercoaster trail to Rowardennan. Quite a bit of walking here but still reached the car park and Dad/Julie by 14.40 - 3 hours 30 minutes after leaving Beinglas. A little time in bank, I found a spot for a total clothes/shoe change (something I never ususally do in races) and was presented with the most delicious-tasting veggie burger Dad got from the hotel. I didn't realise how hungry I was and wolfed half of it down before heading out with Julie, for her turn to support run - and first West Highland Way experience also. Things were starting to hurt and a marathon to go didn't seem insubstantial. Just a few miles down the trail and John and Katrina Kynaston appear with a few cheers, turning to run with us back to Balmaha - and all of a sudden we had a little team on the go which helped the time and miles melt away. I was surprised at how messy my quads felt, really tight on the downhills. The lack of formal training and less mileage since CCC and UROC was showing.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to Murdo McEwan for pic</td></tr>
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Balmaha - any ultra runner will know the feeling of anticipating arrival to a checkpoint for so long, just to arrive and feel there is still so far to go. I'd felt better at this stage in races where I was running a lot faster. Despite trying to run in the moment, the mental calculus of trying to finish sub 24 after such a rocky start was exhausting. Giles had messaged me at one point to say I should aim to finish before 10pm and not 9pm, given how the extra mileage would balance out the sub-24. On one hand I wanted it to be a 'clean' sub-24 for the sake of Link's profile and an achievement not to be repeated, but on the other I didn't want to care about time at all.<br />
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Running into the carpark, we were met by the incredible cheer of Dawn, Lorna, Carol, Dad, Liz and Giles, all set with another veggie burger and ginger beer. Another few bites (still so good, one plus for this stage in the run!) and off with lovely Dawn up and over Conic Hill. I've barely run this direction so forgot how steep it was from the Balmaha side. Those deep steps. My quads did not like, and I had zero chat for Dawn but that fortunately didn't phase her cheeriness. Near the top, I stopped suddenly, sensing a massive shape centre trail ahead, and Dawn very nearly ran into the rear end of a large highland cow. It followed her instruction to get off the trail and only later did she say how terrified she is of them - amazing effort.<br />
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After a caffeine gel I regained some chat and the few miles down and over the forestry track to Drymen forest carpark seemed more bearable (though I was still having flashbacks to forestry nightmares of last night!). It was absolutely amazing here - a peaceful forest with barn owls calling, a special place to be in the dark and reminding me of Mum and her love of owls. My primary school friend Judy appeared with her family along with all the others from Balmaha. Yet more ginger beer and another gel for the road. Next I would run with Lorna, a scary prospect as she had goals for me.<br />
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We left Drymen round 7pm. Over the field and onto the rollercoaster road out of the village, we walked the hills and ran the flats and downs, although she tried a few tricks such as "this is actually flat, the hill you can see is way in the distance" - I wasn't convinced.We had 6 miles together, and a few miles in Gavin and Matt appeared from nowhere - another lovely surprise which helped my chat and pace a little.<br />
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<b>The end </b><br />
We reach the Beech Tree and a small crowd of happy faces. I can't stop or think about what I need, as my feet and quads are in bits, I'm feeling emotional and I know I won't make sub 24 and Milngavie by 9pm, although by this point my watch has gone crazy with the detouring and is registering over 100 miles. A swig of ginger beer and off again, this time with Carol Martin, who does an amazing job in picking up from Lorna's mantel and keeping my mind occupied with chat. 2 miles to the end of the flat cycle path, then a right turn back on to the trail and gentle uphill to Carbeth. Then just 4 miles to go. Giles, Jamie, Dawn and the lovely 'fluffies', Jamie's dogs, appear again. I had to stop for a few tears with Giles to get some of this out before the finish. Pirate (one fluffy) manages to make us giggle by trying to lead the way and turn right back to their cottage instead of straight onto Milngavie. Probably wondering what the hell the humans were up to.<br />
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A few more miles of real discomfort in the feet and quads and we were there - to the most incredible welcoming committee in the town centre. We all ran from the bridge to the railway tunnel together, and it was over. The time was 9.35pm (thanks Helen and John! And no thanks to Suunto, which died three miles back!), so a time of 24 hours 35 minutes for a run distance of around 101 miles. See here for <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/806505377">the confusing data</a> (if anyone into data wants to try work out my actual time please go ahead, my post-run brain is barely working).<br />
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<a href="https://youtu.be/9SjSw59jlnU"><b>Finish video</b></a><br />
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A haze of group hugs, a few more tears and prosecco and pizza appeared from nowhere (thanks Lorna and Kate). Unfortunately, as I'd anticipated, within a few minutes I had the dizziness and sickness I'd had after June's race and had to retreat behind the car where I felt like passing out. Not the most social of finishes, but I hope everyone there knew I wanted it to be otherwise. Giles bundles me in the car and let's just say it was lucky Andy donated some sick bags for the drive to my brother and sister in law's in Bridge of Weir. <br />
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So I mentioned learning: perhaps reccying forestry works should be part of that :-) It was certainly an adventure. Doing something like this - although you wonder again and again why you put yourself up for such a battering - certainly gives you an appreciation of everything after the event. Especially people and what matters. Thank you again to all those who've given and been part of this, either in person or from a distance. So far our team has raised over £3,400 for Link's work in Africa to benefit children, especially girls, in the most remote communities who cannot access education or opportunities as we can - <a href="http://www.lcdinternational.org/">read more about it here</a>.<br />
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<b>If you haven't donated or can pass the <a href="http://www.virginmoneygiving.com/carolinemckay">Virgin Money Giving link</a> on, please do. Perhaps we can make £4,000 by Christmas.</b></div>
<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-84107472378999711332016-08-18T11:10:00.001-07:002016-08-18T13:12:41.389-07:00Climbing Mont Blanc: Trois Monts routeOk, not running but I wanted to capture our day yesterday climbing Mont Blanc. An entirely new experience from throwing on shoes and running, and challenging mentally and physically in so many more ways than I imagined.<br>
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An experienced mountaineer and trained international mountain leader, this would be Giles' fourth 4,000 metre Alps peak in two weeks and 30th overall, and he'd climbed Mont Blanc a decade before. So even though I've just learnt how to use crampons, ice axes etc., I felt safe.<br>
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We decided on the Three Monts route up - which would climb 1,450m to the summit at 4,809m - and to descend via the Gouter route, or the 'normal' route people take up the mountain. The Three Monts is more technical and some books give it a harder grade, but the huts for a Gouter ascent were full and we thought given the fine forecast it would be do-able. Plus passing Mont Maudit would give the opportunity for Giles to climb a 4,000 he hadn't yet (the Three Monts traverses past the summits of Mont Blanc du Tacul and Mont Maudit en route to Mont Blanc). Some thorough forecast checking in the days earlier showed Tuesday and Wednesday with clear skies, warm temps and almost wind-free at high altitude, just 10km p/h predicted for the summit, before a break and rain on Thursday. <br>
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So Tuesday afternoon we caught the Aiguille du Midi telepherique, roasting in full mountain gear sardined in with hoardes of tourists from a 28 degree Chamonix. Heading out of the viewing station at the top through the ice tunnel and onto the east ridge of the Midi was sobering. A steep descent onto a ridge just a few feet wide with super steep drops hundreds of metres either side, and slushy late-afternoon conditions made for tentative progress down to the Col du Midi where we made our way to the Cosmiques hut for the night - just in time before snow clouds descended on the mountain for a few hours.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cosmiques arête down to the refuge</td></tr>
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The view across the Mont Blanc massif was incredible. The Bossons glacier sprawling in front of us, the Aiguilles du Midi, Chamonix a few km below and most relevant, the steep slopes of Mont Blanc du Tacul illustrating what the first section of the climb would entail. Quite honestly, I couldn't imagine climbing this - it looked so steep and fraught with crevasses. For an hour and a half as we ate dinner with a hundred gnarly-looking mountaineers (I did not feel one of them!) I watched two parties of climbers descend Tacul; slow, exhausted steps down the serac-laden route trying to reach the refuge before night fall. I was both fearful and excited for the unknown and what lay ahead.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First climb up to the shoulder of Mont Blanc du Tacul (4248m)</td></tr>
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What better way for Giles to fully enjoy his birthday than get up at 12.40am for breakfast and climb a mountain! Most climbers start at 1.30am - 2am, aiming to summit by 9am and safely descend before snow melt causes more risks of rock fall. Neither of us had slept in the crammed, snore-fest of a bunk room, but I felt fine considering - full of adrenaline - and we forced down some muesli and tea before gearing up and heading out into the snow to join a long line of headtorches up to the Tacul ascent. There were some pretty steep, calf-burning sections as well as more sustainable zig-zag lines, but on the whole it wasn't as challenging to hike up than it had looked from the hut window. When you're right there on it, you don't see the crevassed terrain in the same perspective, and the crevasse crossings had wide bridges and felt safe. It felt tough but the kind of tough that also feels amazing - how could it not when you're surrounded by the beauty of the Mont Blanc massif shrouded in moonlight, and Chamonix glistening 3 km's below us. Overtaking other groups was at times challenging - at least 200 people would try to summit today - but we had to be patient and I had to remind myself constantly that a sustainable pace was all that was needed, we were not racing anyone.<br>
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We reached the top - the shoulder of Mont Tacul - in just less than two hours, ahead of schedule, and had a brief respite of slight downhill to Col Maudit before another steep climb up to the second Col du Mont Maudit (yes, confusing), stopping en route to insert hand warmers into gloves and don buffs to protect our faces. It started with the zig-zags criss crossing across the crevassed glacier but after another hour we reached a queue of climbers. Here was an imposing wall of icy snow and teams were lining up to clip onto a fixed line, with some taking out two ice axes for safety. Our hands and feet were getting cold hanging around at the base, but we had to wait for people to make their way up. As our turn came, we clipped in and started the climb steadily. I was as safe as I could be, attached to the line, roped to Giles and an ice axe, but I tangibly felt the open space behind me as I edged up. Giles waited ahead at a rocky outcrop and as I climbed I realised with panic that not one but both crampons were coming loose. We thought we'd been careful to work out the bindings but I'd hired warmer high altitude boots and combined with the steep climbing this must have affected the fitting. Imagining my crampons tumbling 1000 feet below I was even more careful with my footing and securing the axe in place before moving, and reaching the outcrop we refixed them for the final pitch ahead. Giles moved to reach the top of the col and belay me up, but our progress was hampered by another party and their guide climbing over our rope and racing to the top.<br>
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At the top we were very cold and I was shaking with the adrenaline of the ice climb. Ahead lay a narrow and icy ridge path just a foot wide, above snow cliffs dropping off to the right; it was a dramatic, exhilarating hike leading up to the next col, Col de la Brenva. Around us the sky was now lightening and the shadowy mountain skyline waking up with a dusky pink alpenglow. I'd thought we'd take in some tea and refuel here but we couldn't even face stopping to put on our down jackets, with windchill the temp must have been -15 to -20 and we were quickly realising the wind was much stronger than forecast, whipping and whistling fiercely across the col. We headed forwards as swiftly as altitude would allow to try and escape it on the next climb to Mur de la Cote, the penultimate ascent before the final summit ascent.</div>
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But there was barely a respite on the climb, one switchback we'd be head first into blasting bitter wind and the return would be a steeper gradient - tough ground for tired legs and gasping lungs. I knew Giles was cold and we needed to get our down on and get some fuel in so when we spotted a rock with other climbers crouching behind we took our chance and stopped there for 5 minutes. A quick layering up, some warm hut tea and a few bites of spinach tart and back we went into the wind.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final ascent to summit</td></tr>
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By this point we could clearly see the summit, smooth yet steeply rounded and shrouded in alpenglow, but we had a further 325 metres of hard climbing to reach it. Switchback by switchback with hardly a word said. At this point I was just trying to keep a sustainable rhythm, and attempting to work out the best way to keep my face covered yet still be able to breathe as deeply as I needed to - a tricky balance! It was almost impossible to appreciate the scenery around us whilst ascending in the wind but as we approached the summit I couldn't stop the lump in my throat and pure relief that we'd made it in the time we needed to. It was 8.20am - the climb had taken us 6 hours 20 minutes from the hut. If we kept strong we could descend in 5 hours via Gouter and make one of the late afternoon trams back to the valley.</div>
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Standing on the highest point in Western Europe was surreal, with coloured cloud banks and mountains stretching all around and below. A couple were sitting down on one of the south slopes out of the worst of the wind so we followed suit and had a quick break before taking off for the descent to Gouter, first towards the west via the Bosses ridge. Another dramatic, beautiful ridge winding for hundreds of metres ahead, similar to the Midi east ridge. We dropped down over the Petite Bosse then the Grand Bosse crossing into the Italian side of the ridge, exposed but easy ground. I'd naively thought that the 'normal' route wouldn't have many or any technical sections but we soon found ourselves in yet another queue of people at a tricky set of snow steps above a gaping hole into a crevasse. We were growing colder as we waited in the bitterly wind and I can see why queues like this can make for dangerous climbing - and as well as the cold there's pressure to down climb the section fast to let others through. Giles roped me down and I clung to a step above the crevasse, with a narrow snow bridge to jump down to over the crevasse, one of those situations where the longer you think about it the harder it becomes. A few minutes later I was down and the guides behind us had it mastered in seconds by facing forwards and jumping without the axe - but I don't think this strategy would have ended well for clumsy me!<br>
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Safely through and with shaky legs, we were back on firmer ground, a steady ridge past the Vallot emergency shelter across to the Col du Dome, before traversing around the Dome du Gouter. At 10.30am we reached the Gouter refuge, an impressive, space-age building set into the rockface of the Aiguile du Gouter. A little spaced out ourselves, we refuelled on a 10 Euro slice of quiche (French huts aint too cheap these days), coffee and hot chocolate. We couldn't let ourselves rest too long - we still had around 3 hours of descending on tired quads and sleep deprived brains.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gouter refuge: great coffee and quiche but you pay for it!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beautiful Aiguille de Bionnassay ridge </td></tr>
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Next came a technical, via ferrata-style descent down the rocky ridge next to the Grand Couloir. There was no snow to be seen so we packed the crampons, ropes and axes away and used the fixed support lines down the rocks. This drop of 600 metres took around an hour and a half, with the distinctive echoes of rocks trickling down the couloir reminding us on several occasions of the danger of the section below us. We'd have to cross directly through the bottom of this couloir - one of the infamous sections of Mont Blanc where over 70 people have lost their lives through rock fall or avalanche over the past two decades. There is almost constant rock fall here through the summer months, and especially in the afternoons, when snow melt higher up in the gully unsettles loose rocks which set off chain reactions down the long, steep face.<br>
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At the bottom we waited for other groups to clear the crossing before studying the ground above for movement and listening for rocks. One by one we crossed, half running, half hiking. It takes a matter of minutes to reach safer ground and we celebrated by breaking out the walking poles and sliding over a snowy field - the last of the day - to pass the Tete Rousse hut (another point people start the climb from) and another rocky but more hikable hour of descent to the tiny Rognes refuge. We were trying to find the Nid D'Aigle station - the highest stop for the small train from St. Gervais - and thought the Rognes refuge was it, but something was telling me the descent wouldn't end this easily and sure enough some walkers told us the station was yet another hour down rocky terrain. We found some energy and hiked down in under 40 minutes to sneakily catch the 3.20 train as it was edging into the platform. Those poor tourists who found themselves next to us, dehydrated, depleted and seriously stinky from 11 hours of hard work.</div>
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I felt battered and shattered last night but a new person today - grateful for ten hours of sleep, being back in the valley and deserving of some real R&R before the CCC. Taper time indeed.<br>
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I have no idea how Kilian Jornet speed climbs this mountain - there is no straightforward hiking route either up or down and it surely is not a mountain for any ability much less than his to go fast and light. We used every piece of clothing and most equipment in our heavy bags on what was set to be a perfect summer's forecast! Yet overall it was one special day that will stay with me for a long time. Happy birthday Giles! :-)</div>
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Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-47258311196513815382016-06-20T15:15:00.000-07:002016-06-21T00:46:31.285-07:00West Highland Way Race 2016<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>"Running is how I renew my soul. I come back a new woman, a better mother, a better wife and a better friend. It gives me confidence, makes me realize how endless the possibilities are, and what can be achieved, even when I’m so tired and feel like I can’t go another step there always is another step, another hill that can be climbed." </em><br />
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<em>Terry Toffelmire, thanks to Sally McCrae for this quote from her site</em><br />
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Like so many other ultra runners, there were many times in the second half of the West Highland Way Race where I questioned why we do this. What am I doing to my body? I just want to be sitting with my feet in that river instead of hiking this hill. I want to rest at the top of the Devil's Staircase like the walkers I can see, rather than starting to run again as soon as I reach the top.<br />
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Training had been good. Through May and June, since the Highland Fling, I'd focused on hills and climbed over 42,000 feet. I felt great physically, although more than ready to taper and rest. I'd run a decent Fling, a hard fought 8.54 finish not without one or two mistakes. I felt strong and ready to test my strength and endurance in trying for a sub-20 hour West Highland Way, but I'd always maintained a healthy respect for the 96 mile route after my first attempt at it in 2012.<br />
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Pre-race I was excited, just to be out there on the trail all day from start to finish in what were promising to be beautiful conditions. This forecast was such a relief to see. My 2012 race featured pouring rain for over 20 hours, macerated feet, an amateur endurance level and an Achilles injury, and I dragged myself over the line in 26 hours 45.<br />
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<strong>Some highlights, some struggles</strong><strong><br /></strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>The start, 1am in Milngavie (credit: Phil McCloy)</em></td></tr>
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The first few sections were a beautiful joy to run. I was enjoying running steady and easy, and talking to people along the way. The night sky was so bright with a near-full moon that we hardly needed head torches. Even a fall four miles in whilst chatting to Lorna didn't phase me too much, fortunately I managed a roll into long grass and came off lightly.<br />
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Approaching Conic Hill the moon's reflection was cast across Loch Lomond and it was spectacular. I hoped Julie and Liz - my morning crew - were enjoying the views in Balmaha and not being eaten alive by midges. After a fast-hike up the hill I came down to the CP in 3:03 and it was great to see them there - oats, coffee and encouragement - and I got to ditch the headtorch and head forwards for a fresh day ahead.<br />
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Rowardennan at 27 miles came along in good time, 1 hour 28, a section run so many times but today to be enjoyed and not raced. I was feeling good still. But just as soon as Lorna and I had been talking about the midges not being bad so far we were hit by clouds of them. Only a few minutes in the CP were bearable to wolf down a few bites, replace fluids and take supplies for the next 14 mile stretch to Beinglas, which would be without support (the next CP Inversnaid is too remote for crew access).<br />
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Then 14 miles of MIDGE TORTURE - out in volume I'd never seen before due to the absence of any wind and the still cloudy early morning conditions. Black swathes of them hitting the eyes, nose, mouth, legs constantly, from the moment we left Rowardennan to Beinglas, only easing a little as we approached the checkpoint. My cap was pointless in staving them off and every few minutes I had to try remove them from my eyes as couldn't see properly. Ahead, Lorna had grabbed some bracken and I followed suit, trying to bat the clouds away. The Adventure Show were filming this year's race and I'm glad they weren't here for this part, although I'm sure it'd be entertaining.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those creatures (courtesy of Monument Photos)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beinglas farm with Julie</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">By Beinglas I was praying the midge-fest was over (it was) and after a quick hike through with pasta and pesto I decided I needed music to see me through this tough section - still under halfway with 9 miles of tricky undulations to the next CP at Auchtertyre. I'd planned to only put the iPod on after halfway but I needed something to lift me up from the difficult miles before, and it worked. Ahead I was excited to see Julie & Liz again at the Crianlarich deer fence and also couldn't wait to see Giles and Fraser (crew for the second half) for the first time. The rollercoaster hills rolled by and after 9 hours 22 of running I'd reached half way at Auchtertyre, greeted by Giles full of beans and positivity at the gate. A brief few minutes of being weighed and re-stocked before heading onwards for Tyndrum and the northern half.</span></div>
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After seeing Giles and Fraser again at Brodies in Tyndrum for a dose of sunscreen and Coke, I set off over the most runnable (trail) section of the route. I usually love this section (especially in the Devil O' The Highlands when you're fresh as a daisy) as it's such a reprieve from the earlier undulations but with the dramatic glens and highland hills unfolding for the first time before you. But it was getting hard and it was getting hot - I began to think how exposed the entire trail ahead was - Rannoch Moor, the Devil's Staircase, the Larig Mor - and how there were no clouds in the sky. Hotter than forecast, apparently it reached 24c yet I'd been expecting highs of 17. Focus on the 7 miles to Bridge of Orchy alone, I reminded myself, you CAN do this. <br />
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Lorna was running a fierce race, with such tenacity in the second half. I could see her just two minutes ahead of me leaving Tyndrum but this would be the last time, she reached Fort William in 18 hours 23 - a stunning run!<br />
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A minute at Bridge of Orchy was spent refilling water and being force fed almond butter by Giles - this got me out of the CP fast. I was not eating well and instructed to think about what I most want to eat at Glencoe. Giles & Fraser were amazing - as proactive and intuitive as a crew could possibly be. From Glencoe to the finish they rallied to source the widest array of foods that might tempt me into eating - a different selections of gels, ice creams, savoury food I might fancy ranging from veggie burger and chips, dips and hummus, soup to cous cous, and coffees. From this I barely handled a couple of chips and a few bites of ice lolly before just coke, ginger beer and a couple of gels over the final 25 miles. When I think about the time spent cooking and preparing as much variety as possible the week before - everything from sweet potato to veggie haggis pies, pasta and pesto to all varieties of flapjack, dried fruit, nuts, bakewells etc. it seems ridiculously wasteful. I guess sometimes in heat, I can't eat. Liquid nutrition strategies needed.<br />
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After the boost of seeing Murdo after Bridge of Orchy and one little red jelly baby to give me fire to the finish, I ran strong over Rannoch Moor, jogging the uphills until the final big slog into Glencoe when I'd drained both soft flasks and hit a real energy wall. I was slipping a little behind schedule and wondering how I'd restore my energy for the final 25 when I was so thirsty but couldn't eat.<br />
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By Altnafeadh I felt bloated and over hydrated, things weren't feeling right at all and I constantly had a raging thirst no matter how much I drank. Giles gave me an anti nausea tablet and sent me on my way, telling me to fast hike the Devil's Staircase. The heat was getting to me and I just wanted to stop in one of the streams but wasn't sure I'd get up again. Despite how I felt I managed the hike in 30 minutes and forced the running again, negotiating the technical descent until the welcome fire road down into Kinlochleven.<br />
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I felt more bloated and sick than ever, on the scales I was 2.5 kg up from Auchtertyre despite not eating, but I was determined not to have a repeat of 2012 when I stopped here in the medical room due to low blood pressure for 45 minutes. I had to keep moving. Giles walked me out to the foot of the 1000ft climb and not for the first time I desperately wanted him to be able to run with me but the new rule of no support runners for those running sub 21 hours put paid to that. <br />
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I know we seem to forget the pain and discomfort of long races pretty fast, but I won't forget this section for a while. My stomach was in bits and it took all my effort to keep moving steady. Up on the Larig Mor it took a while to get running again but when I did I found I could sustain an even 11-12 minute mile pace for most of the undulating miles, it was cooling down and the mountains were stunning. And like all the struggles, it passed - fuelled by Fanta from Jeff at the wilderness response team base - and before long I could see Giles' waving arms again and hear the tones of Cyndi Lauper blasting out from Lundavra. A hug from Gayle Tait and all the friendly faces helped and I knew I still had a decent chance of a sub 20 hour finish, unless I imploded on the final 7 miles.<br />
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It's a tough 3 miles of short, sharp ups before the long descent into Fort William. I just had to run all these and then I could hurt myself on the down and it wouldn't matter anymore. At Braveheart carpark, the whole crew were back and I surprised them by being 7 minutes up on schedule, sub 20 was achievable after a final mile along the road to the Leisure Centre.<br />
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<strong>Finish</strong><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcivcEzv_hal-ftMBCdEbZA3F6bvi-CWehdL4xT3bEywp5runskgEFY6DED4aGaIJkAL2g_TVQ6zHoYKr1d9wQgiYLfz3-7pdSU9u61c7w2wG-oHnX6Pne-OvpOMhwaC2INNxuhSMc_ZQ/s1600/IMG_5710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcivcEzv_hal-ftMBCdEbZA3F6bvi-CWehdL4xT3bEywp5runskgEFY6DED4aGaIJkAL2g_TVQ6zHoYKr1d9wQgiYLfz3-7pdSU9u61c7w2wG-oHnX6Pne-OvpOMhwaC2INNxuhSMc_ZQ/s400/IMG_5710.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fort William finish line</td></tr>
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I crossed the line in 19 hrs 34 minutes, 16th position overall and fourth lady behind Lorna. Then sickness! I'd wondered if I'd get the same post-exertional low blood pressure as in the 2012 race and it was back with a vengeance, perhaps worse due to the heat and stomach issues - I'd held off being sick for over 20 miles.<br />
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Delighted to have run this time in spite of what my body was doing. I've struggled again and again in the past with pacing and this time I succeeded in running steady in the first half, moving from 30th position at Balmaha, 19 miles, to 16th position at the finish. And although I'm disappointed not to have been able to enjoy and savour the entire trail as I'd hoped, this has been another adventure that I'll always remember with my crew.</div>
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And on the plus side, I didn't experience any hallucinations this time round, and not much sleepiness to speak of at all. My body and muscles are recovering fast and well, although the stomach is taking a little while to catch up. But does anyone ever run a race like this with a perfect day and no issue? Perhaps not, or perhaps we should keep trying to find out. But for now I'm going to be happy with the way this race played out for all its struggles, and enjoy the achievement :-)</div>
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I'm amazed and proud at the women's achievements this year. The standard was superb, with the top 3 ladies running under 19 hours and in the top 10 overall, led by Lizzie Wraith in 17.42. And not forgetting overall winner James Stewart with an incredible run of 15.15. <a href="http://live5.sportident.co.uk/home/multistage/stage/results.html?multistageid=956db948-a5b1-41e6-b51b-9d4409a7d476&multistageclass=off&mobile=false">Full results here.</a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lovely crew</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prize giving<br />
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<em>**Thanks to Ian and all who organised/supported this special race. And another enormous thanks to my crew - Julie, Liz, Giles and Fraser - without whom my finish would not have been possible, and more than that - not as memorable or with as many laughs </em></div>
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<em>(ok not so much during but before and after) **</em></div>
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Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-82487718276487555692016-01-13T13:30:00.000-08:002016-01-13T13:40:44.560-08:00A Texan trail experience<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm often reminded that the things I anticipate being tough before a race don't end up being the toughest things - never more true for me than at the Bandera 100k. A rugged old trail full of surprises (well, on the first loop anyway).<br />
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Although still keen to follow my less racing is more strategy for 2016, admittedly I did sign up pretty last minute for Bandera after seeing the date fitted nicely with a US ski touring trip to California - just a hop, skip and three state jump away. For these reasons:</div>
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<li><b>I've always wanted to run a trail 100k, having never run that race distance and being totally put off the fast road loop versions - I'm not going there!</b></li>
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<b>Bandera is a Western States golden ticket race, meaning the first two guys & girls gain automatic entry to the 2016 race. It's also a USATF 100k Trail Championship so a stacked field of runners</b></div>
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<b>I've never been to Texas - a chance to discover its trails and a change from mountains! </b></div>
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Pre-race I was a strange mix of super chilled after a couple of weeks of being outdoors everyday and apprehensive due to minimal distance run training and a nasty sickness bug I had for days in Tahoe, which had subsided but left me not feeling quite myself. So all in all in holiday-mode, not race-mode.<br />
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The 100k was a double loop of a 50k route around Texas Hill Country State Park, outside the tiny town Bandera (dubbed 'Cowboy Capital of the World'; yup horses have right of way on these trails):</div>
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The first five miles were a slap in the face - or rather the legs - with large Sotol cacti, also known as Prickly Pear, fringing narrow sections of trail. To either side were wall to wall fields of these plants - with sharp, serrated edges snaking every which way - so there was no sneaking around them.<br />
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Glancing down at my bleeding legs at the first aid station, Nachos (with no nachos, sadly) I wondered if I had the mentality to keep ripping them to shreds for 57 more miles - was the cacti really this bad for the entire route? Race Director Chris McWatters' words were ringing in my ears; "you won't feel it at the time but the after-race shower will hurt". I was feeling it five miles in!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cassie Scallon on the Three Sisters with the Sotol awaiting (photo: David Hanenburg)</td></tr>
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And it was certainly rocky, for many miles on a par with the Larig Mor section of the West Highland Way with more short, sharp ups and downs, on which I rolled that UTMB ankle no less than four times in the first loop. <br />
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The next section was not so bad; some short field sections, beautiful smoother trail and no Sotol. And a bluebird day, no clouds in the sky and 18ish c with a cool breeze - just about perfect if you forgive the wind and midday heat. Afterwards came a very gentle but miles long incline before we hit an out/back section from Crossroads aid station, which led us up the Three Sisters - another three sharp but baby climbs, which again were covered in cacti, this led to a lot of staring at the ground so I wasn't appreciating any scenery at this point. My legs felt sluggish and slow but after the Sisters the trail was really runnable, just two more short climbs of a few hundred metres - including Boyle's Bump right before the lodge at the start/finish line - and mercifully no more cacti until the second loop began again. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back to basecamp at the 50k mark</td></tr>
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I saw Giles at the 50k mark, he'd just finished the 50k race minutes earlier in a really strong 11th place, 5.10 time. A real boost. Some refilling, nutrition and back out for the next loop. I wanted to run it in under six hours. The first tough section predictably felt longer, harder and spikier but it helped knowing what was around the corner and as each aid was pretty much exactly 5 miles apart it was easy to mentally break it down and take it step by step without feeling the larger distance.<br />
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On that note - what aid stations! Small yet perfectly formed, stocking Tailwind, gels of all sorts of variety, peanut-butter filled pretzels (oh yes), all sorts of fruit, Mountain Dew, Saltsticks, Coke etc. and face wipes. How amazing it is to wash your face through a race. Admittedly maybe I shouldn't have spent time on this. I got some quizzical looks when I said how hot I was finding it, I guess for the locals helping out it was a winter's day.</div>
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I felt far stronger for the last 20 miles than I had for the entire first loop, fired by finally letting myself turn on some music and take some caffeine gels. Alicia Hudelson and Liza Howard had passed me early on in the first loop and then I passed another girl (Katie Graff I think) before passing a handful of men in the second loop. I didn't think any other ladies were nearby but didn't really know and was enjoying pushing hard to regain some time. Giles surprised me at Crossroads, an amazing boost. I gritted my teeth for the final cactus assault of the day up the Three Sisters, which passed quickly enough. Then again at Last Chance, the final aid, he was there - dressed to run again for the final five miles (pacers were permitted from 50k in but I had no idea he'd want to run again). Company for the last section was magic, especially as the last three miles brought darkness on one of the rockiest sections of trail, calling for total focus for a sub 11.30 time. I hope he wasn't expecting a lot of chat, mine had gone missing in action. We crossed the line in 11.28 and the lovely race people thrust a pair of horns in my hands before I promptly collapsed into a camp chair to gather myself. <br />
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It was some trip, worth it for the Vitamin D and Texan horn trophy alone (a key rack, how very practical!). Turned out this was for first 30-39 female (the first five ladies were overall championship trophy winners). <br />
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Jim Walmsley - 25 years old! - won in a course-record shattering time under 8 hours, and Cassie Scallon broke the ladies course record in 9.19, followed by Janessa Taylor, Michele Yates, Liza Howard and Alicia Hudelson. These ladies have inspired me!<br />
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One day I might go back. With full body cover.<br />
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<a href="http://edsresults.com/bandera16/index.php?search_type=race_results&event=100K&gender=F&results_per_page=400">Ladies results</a><br />
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<a href="http://edsresults.com/bandera16/index.php?search_type=race_results&event=100K&gender=M&results_per_page=400">Men's results</a><br />
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<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-22551175977189562942015-09-04T07:54:00.003-07:002015-09-04T15:33:36.319-07:00UTMB 2015: two sunsets and a sunrise<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh901DVgcKzKPxUSW8Tv9SLuqU4tpy6RP75T_yfmNzV-M3MKVGaioUtKu_6b1ClRjE4I5bKUX1J-gZXCTeaBAARMmO_8Ox86rJ9xBSdE8Fdj9s0l20uU0hBxAtd8_C5tFSEJDQYp1Geqy0/s1600/utmb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh901DVgcKzKPxUSW8Tv9SLuqU4tpy6RP75T_yfmNzV-M3MKVGaioUtKu_6b1ClRjE4I5bKUX1J-gZXCTeaBAARMmO_8Ox86rJ9xBSdE8Fdj9s0l20uU0hBxAtd8_C5tFSEJDQYp1Geqy0/s320/utmb.jpg" width="320"></a><strong>Ultra Trail Du Mont Blanc</strong><br>
<ul style="border-image: none;">
<li>Circumnavigation of the Trail Du Mont Blanc, anti-clockwise from Chamonix, through Italy and Switzerland and back into France</li>
<li>170km/105 miles</li>
<li>10,000 metres/32,800 feet</li>
<li>Time limit 46 hours 30 mins</li>
</ul>
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<strong>Pre-race</strong></div>
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This is what I've trained for all year, since January brought the news I'd been successful in the lottery. But bizarrely, despite the fact I knew this would be the most challenging race I've attempted, and my usual pre-race panics, I wasn't too nervous in the days before. I'd reccied the route several weeks before with Richard and Carrie and had trained hard on hills and endurance for months. </div>
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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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bIQsXSUN668Ld4aaMM3NVdxLKP5a_La10q9wHJGzY-HFAMoy0CyG73dGJqjU5DuKGsOtSX-AmirS9HqhPHMMc3d0ONc7fLfTQADfmmI36L0GOfwwI3kkb5WRH9IK4A0wu5Tq84TjI6U/s1600/utmb+kit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bIQsXSUN668Ld4aaMM3NVdxLKP5a_La10q9wHJGzY-HFAMoy0CyG73dGJqjU5DuKGsOtSX-AmirS9HqhPHMMc3d0ONc7fLfTQADfmmI36L0GOfwwI3kkb5WRH9IK4A0wu5Tq84TjI6U/s200/utmb+kit.jpg" width="200"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kit checked, re-checked</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I even caught 9 hours sleep the night before, unheard of for me before a big race. Maybe something to do with being somewhere new with so much going on, and in the sun all day. A big group of us had been in Chamonix all week, with plenty (perhaps too much) time to prepare and obsess about kit and final race strategies. This involved last minute purchase of the 12L Salomon s-lab pack when we were advised by the organisers to heed the heatwave forecast and carry 2 litres of water rather than the required 1 litre (my 3l pack only just squeezed in the essential kit and water) and temp-tattooing ourselves with the course profile, which for the UTMB meant a part one and part two on each forearm (thank you Carol for your expert tattooing). I felt ready and truly excited about getting out there and trying to run to my potential on a course I'd seen, that was brutal and beautiful in equal measure. So I was completely mentally unprepared for what was to come so early on in the race, thinking the mental and physical battles would arise much later.<br>
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<table align="center" 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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKEm4d0FH0keBmzx7DM_feSmWBUAgaRjEYIzZ6F14apFJVfzVGq0FEvagNUT3svrd_mtwdVkN1hGUkJQYnIdRIJmlsfxhxVlZ83zBnsIa3QlLoVmqsOKaPjFMOg5rtZ4229OaYk6VBwk/s1600/tattoos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKEm4d0FH0keBmzx7DM_feSmWBUAgaRjEYIzZ6F14apFJVfzVGq0FEvagNUT3svrd_mtwdVkN1hGUkJQYnIdRIJmlsfxhxVlZ83zBnsIa3QlLoVmqsOKaPjFMOg5rtZ4229OaYk6VBwk/s320/tattoos.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the race route tattoos, which lasted all of two hours</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was hot and we knew it would remain hot, with the mountain forecast expecting 34 degrees all weekend. I tried to stay out of the sun all day Friday ahead of the 6pm start but it even the shade was stifling. After a leisurely lie-in and re-pack of kit, I met Dad and Hazel, who'd come out to support me, for an even more leisurely late lunch. All the sitting around was getting to me and I just wanted to get going so we headed to the start to meet the Scotland crew and Matt Williamson, who was also racing.<br>
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<strong>The start</strong><br>
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<a href="data:image/png;base64,iVBORw0KGgoAAAANSUhEUgAAAf0AAAH+CAYAAACWWNcmAAAAAXNSR0IArs4c6QAAAARnQU1BAACxjwv8YQUAAAAJcEhZcwAACxMAAAsTAQCanBgAAP+lSURBVHhe7P0HtKxZdtcJ7vDeX+/vfd6meekrM6uyjFSSSiWLEAJJCDHNNAJ107N6ZqCbxnWvNcOaARamBTRIyCOVLKJUqqosb9JUmue9ud6Gu+F9zO9/4j1JuFn0aopumvyyou59cSO+75i99/+/99lnH8+Qy9673rveu9673rveu967/k9/eR/+fO9673rveu9673rveu/6P/n1Hui/d713vXe9d713vXf9Z3K58P6nXv2n1u7WLV8smtcbsn7fbH1jxzw+Px8ZmNdnlptImac/MD88YTgc2GAwsB98t2r+3fzoTu9d/1GuxrFF+2czA4uEw9bvNCwcDlgqFbNILMBfPdbpdtzcDPpDC4fCFovEzTs0C/iD5vX4LJvOWiwWY477tpbftO2dbWs0mu7eXi9zy3fDkbAFgz6Lx6Pcr+Ve/a6Z3xe0wZBndDrW6w2sPxian/tqgSgQCFi11rRWq2mNZtP6bQ+tGSI7HtoXt1Q6yfd9fN9rg57XSqWKFfKH1m71bOj1WA+Z6vV6tNFrfu5l7jld2uSjTWqbjzYFbXx83CrVih0eHrq2DgZ983Fft0rlQT4DPu4hqe27v7fafQtGUhZNDizJOKUzSWtWzTbX963X4vvdtkVCtHXYd88b9AOWyaRsaXHeLjxxxoIBLy8PbTfr0r5arUY7uWcoZCHGKDBsWKvRYC561m13bXZqxeKJHGNm1jKfXbt72yrNmu2X8+anH7pXJArX9taYmwBjHLZwIMzz/ebzBq1Rb1utWndzFubZA40N/ciXS9ZhvPsDD2PhN08gaqF4wuLM58179+1BsW4db8AYbhv26EenbdbrWI6xX16Ys1I+b7VS0Rq0v0/7zeO3XnfAc9W3ADPFmKHf+rf02w26e5eX3kOeNM7+gH805siKz0/7aJv7PCM+cO3ry2KYx6N26sXvzrXgb/0e8uJ1c6j76L1SsWQB7MypEzMWCZr5mIdYMMoYe6xWr9thrWJ9/t6lyR1eGvMQctBqNvge77VaFvTTJvrURUgjyLaHZ5bKh66v4VDQybva60eGarW6VZCdeCxusWjEyVuIzwT8AasFushL28mNj/eDvBeLRGhPmO97uF/dukys2uvxh63n433GRLqkKxqNWpvvS0b8tElXGD1tSD4G0sseupBkLBkjXo1GnTkOoMuhkW7wXp8+6B6xaMwOkYM+Y+/1h6x4SD/DMeQuavcebNHOLp9Fvpttxng4Gm+1i2eq/Yw291Wbwm7MpR6NeoMxGlqjI32hjzLszJkufU/zz1/cvzWvHn71hYbWQY486P4Q2UskopaIBi0V7iPrYxYOeuxgbx/9ZywYr1Ai4Np1yPgHgmAJExdAeSQrfmS/3WnyXPQg7Lchf/Nhk/zIs1rgVJh+DHmvSr/ypap1hhFsSh9ZYPz4ezIZw2Y0LI1tCvqGzHvHEuiQT78Puq6v7lnoktrLwDMOfmwHMoS9HHoi/J6il0nbyVdtdmHeYtzzcHPVwsxfPI6d4udBsWCBUMDJVK/XsnqdtrRqNj8/jR6Gba/cpx01bNiB7e/uWJg+PprLIB30DFqMiblnZ2enkcEUnUPP+jHb3S7Q3qAb81qjzHPMDis7Fgp7rFphzpkf2YVcJmFNjBXDZlVkFrC2WDhokQh2hz5ikegfz0U+I8hpq910+hamDV3smmRJuhBPjNmzH/izmlZ3OdD/W//gx23nYM2qGH+fL4LCQAAKPJwPVFG6VCZqE9NpaxxWLIjR9jgtHtrfuz1m3gfr7kbvXf9xrvoTZ+2PdN+wDMZjchzDFQsxyT5ANeLAVq8ORiOAochlctYERCIIRRAhW5hbdCRARqqB0Xzr7iUrFIpWrVadwU4mEHiMcQhh7/WbNjE5hjwI7JrWbvYwdhFnNOqAeweQa2OFe32Mc63B9zGKzQ5GBpKBoLWrQyd4kWgII591hlVkoVA4xEgc2v5eEaXBWBnK6RMa8juGdUg7AgGsP39ptSS4AnU/fYw6g5tIJDCKA2fAZFi7MkjSHuTRg5XyA5QydHpukz6WKxiC8Dj6VuQ9H8AftVbNa/s7BevUAMVMxMYYu363iTGLWDo0wXgF7KPf8kF7/NwRa9XLKGoTsB5yv6YDDA/GUv0MhjCywxaAWrBKuca4D2xm+pTlxuZtfGrJdqstu3TrmhUbh/blN79ikWHaknEIWrRv2ZyXPhQBn6CNpXIQjxiGPwTYB6xYKEBGGpYLNyySTpsP631vY9MOMX7Fw4bVeE50fMG6/ohtFkp2bX3Lyn1AHCDyMgZeKXwL4tBp2Zkj8zYJidm4d8dK2xsOcMKAZhfi1WX+PJj5AN9T0K/ThrgwrxpLTOhDMNccQfjoswBOcyEA1ZsChh5ESJ/RnOvSfLXdnGg+RkbcAyiJ/EkGZmambGlp0TY3NzBSEEqeKeA9f3bKJrAzqVjEor4oMtZx4Nn39K0MOPawO+0u7Rp2HZkdQCByuYzVKxXu0WKeMOjD3kh2u13GtsZ9fch7lP75HRAJVFuQhDr3TaVSrh/qg34X4tQBMpEW12bkUH3W91MAcAKS0G62IHZtnhEC9GljL+CIaJfnaRxEPKVLegncw+GIA309cz+/5Zyn48eOWYDnNumTyGKOzwUACQ1f4eCA8e+4sXSATn8LAr6Bz7qA1WG1bdV611YhrD7Itoh3E3D0+WizI1jMDW6ZB/LLTGDseSBjot9DgHL1sGZ1dLTnjY1mWCBPX0UU1X8GA4Ch75pbSFQUuev7WpYZS9vY+BztD9iZU8dsZXHKihuXrdcsWxyg2ljfRJ4nESG/1QfSlRCkvsTY8H3GnKZBYrBBgFsXAA2AYj4v1BCbEeCeHjkCjjdBQCEOPsZtN1+22w+Q+SZ63PEC+vQBYBPhaNYrFsVeoDqWTkLKon7mWIyB9qP/qUwaEIY4tofWgjg16yXa0GM8GIOqxxaWztnxUy+hW7OWyKZtr7Rvzf3LViiWHclKpMftALso0tJG54MiLejD+oM7Nj2JrqYmbBjK2MbGA3vw4J6VIdOHxUPkJYBuhWx7exv7zFidOYZdjqK/OCsTM47INulPudzAjjTtyLGT1mhVIRsB5nkLmerZ5sa2s7NeT9sy6Zg1qiXIUcvayLeHQQqgD8HAAFIAUfT2LQH599JmyZ/ka3xsjHb7IZQ1pnQkz7nxRfuRn/h1DbC7fH+V68qtLzCoZTw8GsgkHBwUbGfvwHlU09OTNDyBgsr7YPZ6MuZimX37zsOEeWB0713/8a4O7PpfhvKWZk7SqQgGyIeS4tWi3JpgedwysN1uz4Fso9GCbY6YYAzDVcd72tjctLX1NTuo5J1hklcRAVT19wHKL0+uDWuMYoBHF6wfUBh56iNGLu/QC5FwL1j1oI8hgxgEg2pT1IawVXnEzUYb5di2O7dWbW11x3Z3BPbyCvGQUILhAGaOovYRcnlCAmxFGGKxsFPgIIQmgkfsQ6ll8EVAOnxfjRhFASTsHjyAhE1NTzjjGYC4JFMJZ+SbAGV/iFfG9/oYtSaGW6RFRHlhYdKef/4shnjOFhemAF48RoxEGiPy7IWz1q7sWb9RNFQfgrBv3VrRPJ2a+SAB7WrRKsVdxrOGYtYc8SmUalaq9G1sah5vamDbB0VbOXHMSodlu3bjivXbUYzUJF7tGUslMxhWlLOGwe4DDHVsFu1sN+Ul1e348qJlAtwb5ZVCy6jnxmcsnsw5L3+j1LCrq1t2e3vfDgHwIe+Zoi7opk8TJK8aYz8N4B/m9620t0P7y5bACxhLJy0GcAYYtyGf6yMrPV59nuM8PAGIgEgeCwPq43Nh5kBRFP0txD0E+ppfRSFEGEUN5OHrdzrkvK0A5EmeT0RzmogB0lkHKC5SUykjJ3ihyFHXeenYF+QrCPlpdeRstDH2mruB8zTVJW7uPHyBqKIAHgEEAOMHXOrMq7y8dDJpOWRhnD7mUmkAljlFDvQSoEoXEnwmxE8vxjwIsPlpZ4e+tzCuPvogL18RD5ERecOKAgQhon0aobZ6IREB9KXR6jE2PDOdcl57oZh3bRNpECE9ZN4V3dCY+vGIJZcpnt2mDw3an4jF7NjRI8hkA4DFeDPWIuxuHNDLMkTSS/9yk9O2lz+01bUt29rdZ9xFrhgX+qNnGYAmYGcSmAUAlfnya24VvYIQaW4FrH0IuohCDxvOxNM3aTXkRkSR2UPdXKSlD2nMZZJ25vQJO3ps3p588rwdg6wcWV6wZ5563I4uz1oqwlwAplHsTxjvU09WxHAXz1ftly2Rc9jptCUqztPuMb5qk+RBBFAeqoiKHAa1aagxh1R6sWGazxIkpYauy8b4FQ2jnTXkRtEykXCfdbBdkAZvDyI4clbaEN2OdMCD9HcH2BoIsOaV8QiFA5bLTtvZcxcsmZ7kOdzTzzhBSjvdLRubzlkyl0L2DpmjumWS2EvIS4tnernnEAKQRp4T9CXMM/c379oUoH766KKF6XMdp9jPHGYgHXJGZufnuLfR5qqLagwY+6CLBkB+56YB+7CzDTu7e8hxlLajwvwcn5qBdBzgPIzZ0pEV2wWLt7b33Ly3pafohHRNTnofZRE3bytKiXwGIKRSlXYX8shYRuM4SR2PPf2+H+Ld0eVA/+K1T8MiC06RtrZ2bHtnF+ULOKM/DTN3jL7fsXQi7ZShw4OlhB9/D/T/o19dgO3Nhb7NzOYQ6EOArI2B0Zzg6fBfr4dwSqclGPwi5VPIP4BHsofxLxZLlsc46eXH4AUwKiGUT16c5rmGl6L7iDXKA5Lw9gFW2RaFayVw8goF7vJMB3iYg74PA9ewne2SVSttWGzb8rtlPNaq89haAFmviyEFPntdj/PUu215VL4RgMBwB942oD1ms3OTGDwvIOPHe0jY8ePLduLkEQAvTluHCDBeX2u0lNFXX62LIvlsDK9PHsThYckZFxkiF9KDWJgnymc1KIAEbRBzDwZ7dvbsgk1M+KxUwFOBVb/z1jXburdlj589YkdWZm" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/s-7m4if4q2s/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/s-7m4if4q2s?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5uZnTabWHwTgqwH05yYPgFvjix3b7xyGO0Ezqjy8slusGRR8iuOJptSSIOYi7mSrY4F527MnFjyAcuXJjoiw7ug3T-dkZl7irdeCfreEotCG9lZc5I7EYLd26t1L1X1ZoUBkoGlqjyKg/s1600/utmb+start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5uZnTabWHwTgqwH05yYPgFvjix3b7xyGO0Ezqjy8slusGRR8iuOJptSSIOYi7mSrY4F527MnFjyAcuXJjoiw7ug3T-dkZl7irdeCfreEotCG9lZc5I7EYLd26t1L1X1ZoUBkoGlqjyKg/s320/utmb+start.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our starting position amid the thousands.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This would be a real race of firsts - the first time I'd experienced real stomach issues in a race, the first time I'd run into two nights, the first time I'd curled up on the side of a trail and the first time for weird after-effects like a bruised head from so much torch-wearing. It was also the first time I'd spent an hour an a half waiting at the start line in order to gain a good position, nicely behind the elites but in front of the hundreds at the middle and back of the pack. Matt and I sat in a shaded spot, trying to avoid being trampled on by runners and their friends dangerously wielding Go Pro's and poles right left and centre. The first time in an ultra this huge, surrounded by 2,300 nervous faces and thousands of supporters, organisers, media everywhere. I glanced up at the packed balconies of the apartments around the start and noticed an eagle. An eagle? No sooner had we saw it than it had been released and swooped right overhead, carrying a camera, to thousands of cheers. <span style="text-align: center;">The announcers talked of having courage, of keeping going when your body wanted to give up, of using your mind and then your soul. Then came the iconic music, Conquest of Paradise by Vangelis, and we were off. Well, off for a walk. I was quickly regretting the decision not to start further up the field as we walked for most of the way out of Chamonix onto the Les Houches trail due to congestion. All the cheers and support along the way were just incredible</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px; text-align: center;">.</span></div>
<strong><br></strong>
<strong>Chamonix - Refuge Croix de Bonhomme</strong><br>
<i>Cumulative distance 44km</i><br>
<i>Runtime 6hrs 52mins</i><br>
<i><br></i>
Day one in my racing mind, given this had been the first day of our<br>
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZkxemrwACIlD6byoBnB25ASw860oiZNqxQLu5wsVwCie2TFa2BVgGFbioS7FHSgaptrJ5yI5p53d39THcj_taH0Nubhzv5Y_zX_88JQK5KU7FDA-hiHLuri1MmFGzuuvpOcdU_zFOrg/s1600/utmb+start+matt+and+c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZkxemrwACIlD6byoBnB25ASw860oiZNqxQLu5wsVwCie2TFa2BVgGFbioS7FHSgaptrJ5yI5p53d39THcj_taH0Nubhzv5Y_zX_88JQK5KU7FDA-hiHLuri1MmFGzuuvpOcdU_zFOrg/s320/utmb+start+matt+and+c.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt and I about to assume position</td></tr>
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four day recce; the first major section to tackle and put behind me. And I felt terrible from a few km's in. I expected to feel fresh and energetic on the first section, a flat-ish 8km trail to Les Houches, but instead by the time we reached the town my stomach was cramping and face felt burning hot. Soon after Les Houches came the first climb, 700m up to the small timing station of Le Delevret and the Col de Voza. Glancing behind me as we reached the top of the climb and the ski lift station, I was taken with the beauty of the shining line of headtorches snaking down the hill, and the setting sun overhead. But as we began the steep switchbacks 900m down into the first town of St Gervais, I didn't feel well at all, with the downhill impact making me feel sick, and I knew I had to stop soon. In fact, over the next two hours I stopped four times and was losing time on my planned splits. I began to accept there was nothing I could do about this, if I was developing some kind of bug or it was food poisoning from lunch then that was that, it wasn't my day and there was no way I could run with this for 100 miles. I thought I'd stick it out until darkness fell though, to see if it would clear up and I could eat (I hadn't eaten anything yet).<br>
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After Les Contamines though (4:02, 15 mins off target) it was dark and in a few miles we reached the start of the climb up to La Balme and eventually the Col du Bonhomme, an incredibly long, slow climb that in the recce had become tortuous due to heat, lack of shade and our first day at elevation. I started to feel more in control on the climb, and was awash with relief - maybe this would go and I'd have a chance of continuing. I knew what to expect now, and there would be no sun to contend with. At the La Balme aid station, I could eat well - noodle soup (exactly what I needed) and cups of coke which energised me for the final climb up to the Col and the landmark of the refuge that we'd stayed at on the recce - my favourite refuge of that trip, with a cosy feel, stunning vistas for relaxing outside and great beer. But I had to get those dangerous thoughts out of my head!<br>
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<b>Refuge Croix du Bonhomme - Refuge Bertone</b><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kVF6jJ5_H7R7M-GyVjw6vZOeAvwX8GLq7Q_cdAP8kpcnedVTppe_c79_2Xgcm0tb-XiC2VWh_t2NuhZBFSULsuWSNanMhN4xw9bLco5IqmZgKAyh5It_PalZRxZYlHtT1NxAnHJjUu8/s1600/bon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kVF6jJ5_H7R7M-GyVjw6vZOeAvwX8GLq7Q_cdAP8kpcnedVTppe_c79_2Xgcm0tb-XiC2VWh_t2NuhZBFSULsuWSNanMhN4xw9bLco5IqmZgKAyh5It_PalZRxZYlHtT1NxAnHJjUu8/s320/bon.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Croix du Bonhomme (taken during recce)</td></tr>
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<i>Cumulative distance 84km</i><br>
<i>Runtime 15hrs 04mins</i><br>
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Onwards - straight through the timing point and headfirst into the steep 5km downhill into the tiny village of Les Chapieux, exactly 50km into the race. There was a decent aid station here and I needed to eat, I wasn't fuelling as I'd promised myself I would. I discovered some Overstim banana and date energy bars, and had more soup, more coke - to become my only staples for the day. I was looking forward to the road section that led gently uphill for several miles outside of the village and up to the next climb up to the Col de la Seigne, the transition point into Italy. My stomach had settled, it was cooler (although not nearly as cool as I'd hoped the night would get) and I could walk/run this section comfortably as a welcome break from technical trail. On the climb I spotted my first fellow no-pole runner, a very rare sight. I was beginning to question my decision by this point. I'd run the entire recce without poles but over 90% of UTMB runners use them and after the stomach issues I'd begun to question my stubbornness and the need for them should something unexpected start to affect me.<br>
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I'd hoped there might be a water station or coke at the summit (2507m) but sadly not. 'Welcome to Italy' shouted the volunteers and we were sent down the trail for a short downhill section before the second (and new for this year) climb up to the Col de Pyramides, that Richard, Carrie and I had missed out of our recce in error. And no wonder, it was hardly a trail at all, but a boggy hill climb up and a slippy, technical boulder field descent that never seemed to end. I really needed water by this point but it took over an hour an a half to get down to Lac Combal and the next major aid station. I'd been chatting to a nice English guy called Chris about UK races but<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rich and I at Mont Favre on the recce</td></tr>
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began to find it a bit of a struggle to talk constantly as we were negotiating boulder after boulder. In the aid station I sat for five minutes and had a mental check, downing yet more noodle soup (extra salt, cold water for quick drinking), coke and a few pieces of cheese. A rare runnable few miles of flat path came next, to reach the 500m climb to Arete de Mont Favre, another memorable break stop from our recce where we sat and admired stunning afternoon light across Mont Favre and down towards Courmayeur, In fact this had been the last time I'd felt fresh in the recce, right before I sprained my ankle on the descent - after which I was running on very few cylinders for two days!</div>
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The dawn was coming and I was looking forward to losing the head torch. Then, no sooner had we left the summit than I slipped on a large slab, left foot sliding beneath me and knee scraping off the ground, tweaking the sprained ankle at the same time. Same descent, another fall! It threw me but I knew it wasn't nearly as bad as the recce. My knee was bleeding down into my shoe though which was off putting. I took the rest of the descent easy, delicately negotiating the steps that had tripped me last time and following behind another female runner who eventually let me past. Courmayeur was a metropolis of an aid station, in the town's sports centre, and I picked up my only drop bag here. Hundreds of runners were properly stopping, sitting at tables with their support, eating pasta, changing clothes. I refilled and grabbed a small plate of pasta to take into the medical tent, where a lovely volunteer cleaned and bandaged my knee and dealt with a blister. I told myself time stopping here was an investment. It was a maze to escape and not clear where to give your drop bag back but a kind supporter took it for me after I'd jogged two circuits of the centre frantically asking people who didn't speak English.<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Into the second half/second arm</td></tr>
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I prepared myself for what was a brutal climb on the recce, 800m up to what had been our rest point for day two, Refuge Bertone - it had been hot, we'd been running over eight hours and my ankle was huge. And today, I'd been running for over 15 hours, with the sun up and temperature swiftly rising against a deep blue sky, no clouds in sight. I didn't have poles but I had playlists and had planned to let myself listen to music for the first time around halfway so distracted myself with this. Reaching the refuge, I sat for two minutes, forcing down more water and coke.<br>
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<b>Refuge Bertone - Champex-Lac</b><br>
<i>Cumulative distance 125km</i><br>
<i>Runtime 22hr 54mins</i><br>
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Into 'day three'. Crossing this boundary was a mental boost. From Bertone, a beautiful, gently undulating stretch of trail came next, 8k to Refuge Bonatti - straight through the middle of the giants of the Mont Blanc massif, overlooking the Val Ferret. But there was limited shade and I made the mistake of calculating how many hours of sunlight we had to run through. It was smokin' hot and oppressive. A long line of us were leapfrogging right along this stretch, running at different times and struggling at different times. A sharp 100m climb up to Bonatti sapped enough strength that I needed to sit again and thankfully there was shade in which to refill. Again some soup, again some coke and I tried to eat some Chia Charge. A few more miles along the trail came the steep single track descent into Arnuva, which a more substantial aid station awaited us. Running along the river out of Arnuva was torture, I was tempted to dive in and stay there but settled for a cap soak. The heat was stifling, how on earth would I make it 800m up the shadeless climb to Grand Col Ferret? I hope there'd be a water/coke stop halfway up, at Refuge Elena, where we'd stopped for a break on the recce but there wasn't. There was a water butt in the middle of a field though so we could re-fill and re-soak here. It was a long climb, little by little, and I was passed again and again by multiple men with poles. At the summit, we crossed into Switzerland. I sat on a rock, head in hands, and steeled myself for what would be a quad-crushing 930m descent into an airless La Fouly, it was so tough to get the quads moving but a few minutes into each descent they would ease off slightly and become more bearable.<br>
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From La Fouly, a picture-postcard little Swiss hamlet, I was playing the calculation game for arrival into Champex-Lac, I knew it was 14km from here, via another 900m of climbing in the sun, and wondered if I could make it by 16:30, an hour off schedule but still a reasonable time given the conditions we were running in. In La Fouly I lay on a bench and close my eyes but quickly forced myself up. This wasn't a good strategy. Instead, a young volunteer stuck my head under a cold hose and I grabbed more coke, soup and got out of there. The 8k into the small hillside town of Praz de Fort was fairly uneventful and I spent most of the time wondering how I could possibly run a marathon and 3,000m after Champex - always a mistake in ultra running to think that far ahead, but I'd almost resigned myself to stopping. The climb from Praz de Fort was made all the harder for thinking there'd be aid in the town - there wasn't, and I hadn't re-filled water at the last water butt. The kindest runner at the side of the road gave me his, he'd just dropped from the race and was awaiting his lift. I tried to get him moving but he was done.<br>
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Finally, the top of the climb into Champex came, and I saw Fiona, Karl Zeiner's girlfriend and support. It was great to see a friendly face. Soon after, I heard Daddy McKay's shouts, it was good to see him after nearly 23 hours on the road and he was so excited to see me. He had a whole array of treats ready, which would normally look appealing. Fresh figs and blueberries? No, can't do it. Bars? Nope, but will stuff yet more in my pack not to be eaten. Water? Hmm. Energy drink? Coffee? Hell no. Chips and salt? Yes! They went down so well, although soon after came the familiar stomach cramps I'd had earlier on. I told Dad I didn't think I could go on but no agreement came. I resorted to peeling off my clothes to change my shorts and top - another first in a race but it felt so good - and Dad fuelled me up, dressed and taped my feet (I'm so sorry Dad), changed my shoes and socks and sent me right back out onto the trail.<br>
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<b>Champex-Lac - Chamonix</b><br>
<i>Cumulative distance 170km</i><br>
<i>Runtime 34hrs 50mins</i><br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My only race pic - sun setting on the second day above Trient</td></tr>
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The final 'day' was finally here, with its final countdown of three major climbs totalling nearly 3,000m and a similar level of descent. This was the hardest day of the recce for many reasons but I knew as I'd made it through Champex (where the majority of DNF's happen) that I would do my best to make it to Chamonix, no matter how long it took. It felt good to be chipping away at the distance. As soon as I left the aid I felt uplifted by seeing Dad and taking the time to properly re-fuel. I also started getting lovely, supportive text messages from Carol, Richard, Lorna, Keziah and Dawn after texting Carol at Champex (by supportive I mean 'Don't you DARE drop'). So I could run strong here and passed four or five men until the ascent started again, up to the high alpine pass of Bovine, with its noisy cowbells and relentlessly climbing path. This soon drained the life out of my legs but I spotted a fabulous little branch which I started using as a stick. Pas de baton? asked the French. I didn't care what it looked like - this was helping. I was suddenly in a long string of runners and we faced the most incredible setting sun against the mountain panorama. I even took a photo, my only attempt throughout the race. Up at La Giete there was a timing station and a few runner bodies sleeping under blankets. I began to feel incredibly tired on the descent into Trient, my eyes weren't focusing and my thoughts weren't my own, with random country names running through my head in French. Etats Uni, Royaume Uni. Wonder if the American ladies had finished? Where were the Brits? Were they still out here too? I was talking to the mad commentator in my head and began to feel like I was two people - a new level of sleep deprivation. There were a few ankle twists and a fall, grazing the other knee. Lots of swearing.</div>
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The descent into Trient (141km) was nasty - rocky, rooty, dark and longer than I remember from the recce. Runners behind me were throwing my head torch beam off which was constantly disorientating. Dad was there again, we both knew I'd slowed significantly but I was still chipping away and his cheering and hugs gave me another boost. I stopped for 20 minutes here, eating some soup, coke, the usual.<br>
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Next came *the absolute worst* climb on two counts: I'd lost my stick so it was my slowest. I was half asleep and hallucinating. I decided half way up the climb to a) find a new stick and b) curl up on the side of the trail for a ten minute sleep. This was inadvisable though because I couldn't find a cosy spot far enough from the trail (steep drops or hill either side) so even when I lay down with torch off, several runners spotted me and approached with 'Ca Va's?' shining their headtorches down on me. I kept thinking I was past Vallorcine and realising I was still above Trient approaching Catogne, the penultimate climb and not the final. Switching my alarm off, I got up again and brushed the spiders and dust away to edge on up towards the summit. At Catogne there was coke and 5km down into Vallorcine.<br>
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Another difficult, technical descent which I was barely running down, despite sensing another few female runners around me. I managed to overtake one on the final grassy down into the aid station - and despite being past midnight the cheers, cowbells and support here was just spectacular with people lining the street into the building. Once again my Dad was here, with a huge hug and encouraging words about the final stage, 90% behind me. This didn't sound like enough! I sat for 9 minutes here and promptly felt sick and lightheaded. Up again, I warned Dad I would be a while and to go get some sleep (I later found out my lovely friends took him back to our chalet for a quick sleep on the sofa) and set off along the trail that Richard and I had jogged along on the final home stretch of our recce (it had taken us 3 hours from Vallorcine to Chamonix, it would take me 4.5). In the dark I didn't recognise much until I reached 4k in and the shadow of La Tete aux Vents, the final mountain. The support through the car park beneath was pretty special and I finally forced down the Gu gel I'd been clutching since Vallorcine.<br>
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What to say about the endless 900m climb up to La Tete aux Vents, the windy peak. Yes it was breezy, a welcome change to a still-stifling temperature. I hadn't used any of my extra layers throughout the entire race. I found a third stick after discarding the last one on the descent into Vallorcine and set a steady pace, timing sections of 20 minutes on my watch and telling myself after three I'd nearly be there or at least approaching the gentler uphill section after the steep switchbacks. Looking back down was incredible, yet another string of hundreds of headtorches winding back to Vallorcine. Near the peak, cries of 'regardez'. I looked up and an Ibex stood a metre above on a rocky outcrop, looking down on us all as if we were crazy. After I passed by it jumped on to the trail and headed downhill. I dread to think the shock the runners behind would have got coming face to face with it but it was beautiful.<br>
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After the peak came an undulating and technical 4k section over to the iconic ski station of La Flegere and the final timing point and aid station. It was far less runnable than I remember, with boulders, loose stones and steep sections but I was on autopilot by now and by the time I reached La Flegere I ran straight through and down to one of the steepest descents of the race - slipping and sliding down to reach a fire road then trail for the final 8k to Chamonix. Again, far more technical than I recall for the first 4k before a more runnable, smoother path through La Florier and down into the town. I thought the tarmac would never come and when it did I realised a sub 35 hour finish was still a possibility. I was running hard for this entire section and passed eight people, reaching my highest speed since 75k into the race.<br>
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Soon I was alongside the river and Gavin was there, testing if I could still string a sentence together. The home straight was just a joy, and Keziah thrust the Scotland flag at me to take over the line, crossing in 34 hours and 50 minutes. I had no idea of position throughout and was sure I'd dropped tens of places by struggling on the final climbs (its easy to lose track when people stop for long periods in the aid stations) but I ended up 288th overall, 23rd female overall and 13th senior female.<br>
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It was amazing to hear about other finishes, Matt had made it in an incredible 30 hours and Lorna had finished the CCC in a fantastic time of 18 hours the day earlier. I couldn't have been better taken care of out there and at the finish, and the whole experience - however much I struggled throughout - will remain a positive memory. I'm so relieved to have a UTMB finish after working hard for it this year. Thank you to Daddy McKay, Donnie for your coaching and all my friends in Chamonix as well as back home - what a journey and what a community :-)<br>
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<a href="http://utmb.livetrail.net/coureur.php">My full results, including finish video</a><br>
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Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-3533477894833012472015-08-05T04:44:00.001-07:002015-08-05T05:01:09.421-07:00A devil of a race<strong>A few race stats:</strong> <br />
<ul>
<li>42 miles from Tyndrum - Fort William</li>
<li>6,000 feet ascent</li>
<li>Part of the Triple Crown of West Highland Way ultras along with HOKA Highland Fling and West Highland Way Race</li>
<li>New Race Director: the amazing & superhuman Johnny Fling</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tyndrum start: fresh legs & all to play for</td></tr>
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I entered late after getting my race dates mixed up. Mrs Impulsive strikes again. For some reason thought the Devil was scheduled a week later so three weeks out and too close to UTMB. Its debatable whether racing four weeks out is even advisable but I've been feeling strong lately and thought I'd give it a go with proviso I wouldn't push through anything too painful or damaging. As it was, the race would be the tame option for that weekend given the weekend training ascent Donnie has been giving me in these peak weeks leading up to UTMB.<br />
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Having run the race in 2013 in 7.12 I suspected I'd be more hill fit and consistent this year than back then (in retrospect I was also still recovering from Western States four weeks before, a few weeks later I developed a fibula stress fracture = a lesson). Privately my hopes were high for a sub 7 finish - although knew also than Johnny's addition of a new hill finish to the route might derail this. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Friday conditions north of Tyndrum</td></tr>
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Conditions helping the merry Devil crew set up in Fort William on Friday were APOCALYPTIC. Talking driving, persistent torrential rain. 15 degrees colder than London. And a first foray into marquee erection - some fun team work, I think Alan Sugar would have been impressed.<br />
Weather standards having been pushed as low as they could go, I was pretty happy with the overcast showery conditions Saturday morning brought. No need for a waterproof to start. I also managed one of the best pre-race sleeps I've had, a solid six hours (standard these days). <br />
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<strong>Tyndrum to Bridge of Orchy (7 miles, 47:47)</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>Everything felt good, if taking 20 mins or so to warm into the race and pace properly. I was trying to keep a steady pace but as usual probably set off a little fast, although I could see the bobbing Salomon red of the race winners for all of two minutes. The miles absolutely sped by to Bridge of Orchy and I spent the time organising a mental checklist in my head of what I needed to do before and after each CP to make smooth transitions.</li>
</ul>
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<strong>Bridge of Orchy to Glencoe (10.8 miles, 1hr38)</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>Legs & body - felt strong, didn't have to work too hard on the hill out of Bridge of Orchy and loved the downhill. Ahead of me, Ivor pointed out a stunning rainbow and I gave myself a stern talking to for not having noticed it for staring at my feet - which to be fair was the safer plan in order to run fast down through the loose stones and streams to the road. I did see the darkening clouds beyond and wonder what lay ahead over Rannoch Moor, which I don't think I've ever run in good weather.</li>
<li>State of mind - fair to middling! Felt positive running through the checkpoint but very soon after I started to feel the niggle of chafing on my legs, with the under-shorts of the running skirt I was wearing rolling around all over the place. 7 miles in - seriously? I've worn this one so much that it did have a few holes, but I'm not one to throw things out easy. I was totally kicking myself for not having thought it through properly though with today's wet conditions, which can make these things so much worse. Over the next 8 miles it became a constant fixture in my mind and I couldn't do anything about the continual friction. I began asking the guys in front if they had Vaseline, but no, then I began promising myself I'd find some at Glencoe. That or swap shorts with someone.</li>
<li>Learnings - 1) Rannoch Moor is a slippy nightmare underfoot when its raining and yes - it always rains on Rannoch Moor 2) Always carry Vaseline 3) A Buff can do a lot but it doesn't really work threaded through shorts to prevent chafing.</li>
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<strong>Glencoe to Kinlochleven (10.5 miles, 1hr46)</strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summit of Devil's Staircase: thanks Fiona & Pauline :-)</td></tr>
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<ul>
<li>There was no Vaseline at Glencoe. But lots of friendly WHW family faces, in fact it was rather like the who's who of Scottish ultra racing at that checkpoint. I hung out for a few minutes to track some down with Sean the medic extraordinaire and he did his best to hunt but I needed to get going. </li>
<li>Leaving the CP physically I felt great still and able to run strong and hard. Seeing Lorna and Noanie at the bottom of the road was another little high. Dipping into the bushes outside Glencoe to see if I could stick compeed on my thighs whilst being attacked by swarms of midges everywhere was not so much. The compeed stayed on for all of five minutes.</li>
<li>The Devil's Staircase came and I discovered that uphills are to be treasured as they don't bother the chafing. I love running hills at the moment anyway and have been doing many a weekend of reps on the Devil, Kinlochleven and Ben Lomond so tried to run as much as possible but ran out of steam after a while and hiked hands-on-knees. A guy I passed advised me I should be racing the men as well as the women and that I should try catch the guy in red, four men ahead. It was a nice idea but didn't quite happen. I did pass three guys on the Staircase though before spotting a couple of spectacularly dressed people at the top - Fiona Rennie and Pauline Walker. Great to see and gave me quite the lift before the niggling pain returned to say hello for the miles of rocky downhill to midge-infested Kinlochleven.</li>
</ul>
<strong><br /></strong>
<strong>Kinlochleven to Lundavra (7 miles, 1hr 23)</strong><br />
<div>
</div>
<ul>
<li>Well the kind folks at KLL found me some Vaseline and Bodyglide (thanks Matt and lady I don't know the name of!) and this was reassuring for a short while but it was too late and made little difference. I was actually wondering whether this would affect me finishing, I felt like it was slowing me down from my potential. Like the other checkpoints, I grabbed supplies for en route and ate fairly well (coconut & chia flapjack, banana, juice) before heading for the final of the three major hills of the race.</li>
<li>I enjoyed the climb and fast-hiked/jogged as I could manage up onto Lairig Mor. Memories from the recent West Highland Way Race and support running with Jamie Aarons up here flooded my mind and I channeled her strength. After the steep climb, the gentle uphill undulations seemed to go on for an age but I was willing them to continue as it didn't hurt as much. </li>
<li>There were heaps of walkers out, colourful waterproof backpacks bobbing ahead and I dodged them with the puddles to some lovely supportive cheers. I was five minutes slower than I hoped to reach the small CP of Lundavra but told myself I could still manage a sub-7. It was back on in my head - close enough to grit the teeth and just ignore the layer of skin I was missing. After a quick fix of coke and hello's with the marshalls I set off for the final section.</li>
</ul>
<strong><br /></strong>
<strong>Lundavra to Fort William (7 miles, 1hr 08)</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>Remind me to never live in FW, wettest place in the UK by many accounts. A microclimate of monsoon. The heavens opened on this section but it didn't really matter now. Having recently run the short sharp hills out of the CP into (what used to be more of) a forest and beyond I knew what to expect and counted them down one by one. Some I was good to run and some not. I had no idea where second lady was, no one at any of the CP's had known, so for all I knew she was minutes behind, I couldn't slow down now.</li>
<li>But soon came the winding single track uphill that wound up at the fire road, sooner than I thought, and I glanced at my watch. 6.12. With what I calculated as 7k to go - I was going to have to push this. I ran as hard as I could down the 5k road of downhill, ticking the k's off one by one, to a soundtrack of Moderat and Royskopp. </li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finish in the fields: 6:45, 1st lady &12th overall</td></tr>
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<li>I knew John had changed the finish from a mile flat on road to a mile of climb/sharp downhill so the finish could be in playing fields of the leisure centre, a great improvement with heaps of space for spectators and finish tents. A slow mile and I was so surprised to look once again at the watch upon seeing the finish line from high above and see that I may be able to still aim for a 6.45. And I made it, crossing the line across the flooded fields in exactly that time, most of the pain forgotten - especially when presented with John and family's incredible veggie chilli and a cup of tea. Although I lasted all of two minutes in the shower. Seriously - no pain like it since the post-Western States shower! </li>
</ul>
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<br />
I love this race. Like many, after running longer races it feels like a dream to be able to push more through this course, and the trail is just so beautiful in whatever the conditions throw at us. We may have low standards for weather but the Devil leaves you incredibly high standards for all-round trail beauty and superb and seamless race directing, not to mention the Scottish trail community. Thank you to every one of the marshals and support and coach Donnie for all the support and pushing me. Congrats to Donnie and Casey Morgan for their joint first finish!<br />
<br />
<br />
Lessons learnt though, you think you've got it sorted after a few years of ultra racing but you can still get it wrong. Never take the small stuff, preparation and kit testing for granted. That said, I couldn't have wished for a better result and still shocked to have run the second fastest female time in the race's history (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/download/870437099677901/devils_pbs_07-15v1.xls">Devil finisher PB spreadsheet here</a>, thanks John Kynaston).<br />
<strong><br /></strong>
<strong>Men's overall winners</strong><br />
Joint first: Donnie Campbell and Casey Morgan 5:28<br />
Third: Kevin O' Donoghue 5:46<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>Women's overall winners</strong><br />
First: Caroline McKay 6:45<br />
Second: Nicola Adams-Hendry 7:27<br />
Third: Lynne Allen 7:36<br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.devilothehighlandsfootrace.co.uk/#!about2/cz90">Full results are here</a><br />
<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-12928274060650263772015-06-03T11:42:00.001-07:002015-06-03T12:50:55.037-07:0017 hours of Skye TrailAfter a six month blogging hiatus, I decided the Skye trail ultra is one adventure I want a record of, and others might too given its the first year its been held. Skye is one of three races I'm focusing on for 2015; a new less-is-more strategy for me to change things up from racing too much.<br>
<br>
I'd signed up after reading about the difficulty and elevation of the trail. Advertised at 69 miles (but closer to 74, and only if you go the right way!) and just under 4,500 metres of ascent, it would be quality mileage ahead of UTMB this August. Fitness levels were on the whole good going into it, albeit a few minor niggles which I'd seemed to iron out. I'd had a strong Fling and felt great to the end of Loch Katrine marathon where I ran a PB. But other forms of preparation - those helpful things called sleep, rest and relaxation - didn't feature in my world over the last month or so. A case of everything happening at once, back to back weekends away and change in job with 5am wake-ups every day for weeks.<br>
<br>
The fabulous Jamie Aarons and I drove up to Skye a few weeks before the race to recce the first and most difficult part including the Trotternish ridge and had the best and the worst of conditions; 8 hours of ridge to Portree in stunning sunshine on the Saturday followed by 3 hours in howling winds and torrential rains from Portree to Sligachan on the Sunday. The weekend also featured car camping, hours of hitchhiking back north in the pouring rain (eternally grateful to the Australian tourists who took pity on us and turned around to squeeze us in to their super-packed car), broken windscreen wipers and a mad French hitchhiker who told us he'd been 'hijacking' cars all the way from the north - but that's another post in itself!<br>
<br>
After the recce I'd asked Jeff if he'd consider changing the logistics of registration to it having to be in the south of the island (Broadford) after midnight on the day of the race - with start time at 5am in the north (Duntulm) - and was very grateful when he offered earlier registration options for the afternoon so we could then go stay up north and get a night's sleep before the start. I think a night without sleep before even starting the ridge would not have made for a happy race for me and I ended up getting over 5 hours on Friday - probably a record for me pre-ultra. Matt, Dawn and I stayed in Staffin and lovely Dawn ferried us to the start in the middle of nowhere (sorry Duntulm) where we gathered shivering in the midsummer early morning. Freezing! And much breezier than forecast! But the ridge ahead was free of cloud and the rain was holding off so I was happy. If it had been Friday's conditions I'm not sure I would have started, having seen what was to come on the ridge.<br>
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<strong>Duntulm - Portree (26ish miles, 2,447 metres ascent)</strong><br>
<strong></strong><br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trotternish ridge, taken during recce </td></tr>
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The route sets off a mile or so along an undulating single track road to reach a sharp right turn up to a track and over into the first trail-less section, a few km's of ankle-eating bog and heather. I knew what to expect and for the first in many occasions over the next 7 hours was so thankful we'd recced. I ran with Matt and Ross but as we ascended up to Sror Vourlin, the first steep section of ridge, I held no illusions about staying with them. Mark Hartree was behind me and took the lower traverse, therefore skipping ahead of me as I ran across the ridge. I then proceeded to go the wrong way - as Jamie and I did in the recce - as I just couldn't see the god damned low path we were meant to take past the Quirang. Cursing myself and seeing that several guys had followed me up there I just gritted my teeth and made headway across the top and down the slip-sliding descent - sliding sideways into bog and to the only road crossing on the ridge until Portree, where Jeff, Fiona and Pauline had set up a water stop. I think this is the only ultra I've been given water in a china tea mug and it was awesome.<br>
<br>
After this came miles of up-down-up-down, featuring steep climbs up a few Grahams and other wee hills (Biode Buidhe, Beinn Edra, Sgurr a Mhadaigh Ruaidh, Hartaval, The Storr, Ben Dearg and A Chorra Beinn). Again, these climbs were expected and seemed to pass so much quicker than in the recce. Sadly there were no picnics on the peaks as Jamie and I enjoyed in the sparkling sunshine that day.<br>
<br>
The sections on the ridge tops between the hills were in parts blissful - although cloudy there were still beautiful views with the ridge stretching miles ahead, and Lewis, Harris and the Uists to the right. But it sure was windy. Some of the route looks far more runnable on map than it actually is, as even on the flats/downhills you sink deep into bog and have to jump between clumps of heather to get across.<br>
<br>
When we approached A Chorra Beinn I felt in much better shape than I had on the recce - having tackled it shortly after the Fling and struggled with energy at points. I knew we had to traverse around it and told Mark Caldwell as much, who was running close by. Despite this we saw a few guys right up ahead scrambling up the crags of the peak, it looked super steep and I didn't fancy it at all so stuck to the traverse. After this you have to head back up high to meet the ridge again and a few bog dives were to follow as my legs grew tired of the constant battle through it. Shortly after came the crazy boggy few miles descent into Portree, I was glad to have Mark there for some chat and distraction through this and was delighted we were on for six hours approaching the town, when during recce it had taken 8.<br>
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<strong>Portree - Sligachan (12 miles, 370 metres ascent)</strong><br>
After a few minutes refuelling at the CP, which was manned by Jeff, Fiona Rennie and Pauline Walker and based at the south end of Portree at Aros Heritage Centre, I set off along the few miles of waterlogged coastal estuary to reach the longest road section of the course. 10k until another 5k of gnarly coastal trail to Sligachan. I normally hate tarmac but here it was bliss. No bog scrambling, no ankle twisting and some gentle inclines to break up the monotony. But here I felt the first tweaks of my IT band on the downhills and had the sinking feeling that I was only 30 miles in and it was early to be having this type of pain. It was unlikely to get any better and I was beginning to significantly favour my right side - would I have to pull out later on? It had bothered my a few weeks back in the Pentlands when I'd cut a run short and having rested for a good few days I'd hoped it'd cleared up.<br>
<br>
Soon I was back on the 5k coastal trail skipping over stones and streams and seeing Sligachan sparkling at the other side of the bay - when Jamie and I had run this last time it was grim, high winds, torrential rain and much like running up a river, so anything was better and I knew not to expect a fast section.<br>
<br>
Sligachan CP at the hotel was a peaceful stop, just with one marshal to greet me. I ate well here again - nuts, banana, Dawn's amazing flapjacks - and forced myself along for the section I had never been on and was most looking forward to. <br>
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<strong>Sligachan - Elgol (12 miles, 570 metres ascent)</strong><br>
<strong></strong><br>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkOQZFFOsoDapAfp22dJB2-oIX-S1B9NmqhI8IedeaoT-M62C-tckdhAi7ervnMN4F-Onjj6jDbuFGKknZ34aJLf_SVn0DrDPl4Z2tYxZN3UzvSsbKK1ylHN-vBU4Jf2zRIetx-6RBKw/s1600/Cuillins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkOQZFFOsoDapAfp22dJB2-oIX-S1B9NmqhI8IedeaoT-M62C-tckdhAi7ervnMN4F-Onjj6jDbuFGKknZ34aJLf_SVn0DrDPl4Z2tYxZN3UzvSsbKK1ylHN-vBU4Jf2zRIetx-6RBKw/s320/Cuillins.jpg" width="320"></a>In Jamie's words the first section, around 8 miles to Camusanary, was "beautiful and runnable, but basically like running through a river with stones of various sizes underneath. You're going through the valley of cuillins, going somewhere only your feet can take you. Pretty special". And it was. Gorgeous single track, surrounded on all sides by imposing, dramatic mountains. By now mid afternoon, the sun made an unexpected appearance and it was all of a sudden pretty warm. I could see the bobbing red top of Carnethy's Mark Hartree and I was sure I could catch him...he seemed to be slowing. But before long my ITB was nagging at me badly and it was me who was steadying my pace and all consumed with it mentally. <br>
<br>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAfnws-jo92EL8vlkcDbICCfHCWWRL1I0ieAsf_J_WG1d3lUqmrVnNlxo_913ohBjcUol1DIYkFWhyphenhyphenWmu6RLv1PrHKbMdl6B-cAzzdck5cWhpoYsxisIDy8OVhCEYtmCU3tSwiJNHnMU/s1600/Cuillins2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAfnws-jo92EL8vlkcDbICCfHCWWRL1I0ieAsf_J_WG1d3lUqmrVnNlxo_913ohBjcUol1DIYkFWhyphenhyphenWmu6RLv1PrHKbMdl6B-cAzzdck5cWhpoYsxisIDy8OVhCEYtmCU3tSwiJNHnMU/s320/Cuillins2.jpg" width="320"></a>I reached the cottage at Camusanary and knew I had to take the left hand fork of the trail, where it soon led up and away from the shore. Unfortunately in a few hundred metres there was another junction, with one wide well-trodden trail winding up into the hills and another faint path carrying on around the coast. I took the wide one for half a km or so before realising it wasn't right, the path led right away from the coast, not just above it like the correct one was meant to. If this weren't enough I stepped in a boggy puddle so deep that it splashed right over my head, covering myself in rank water and losing my soft flasks in the process. Fishing them out I headed uphill to the crazily narrow path, which was barely joggable due to steep drop offs, boulders and overhanging trees and undergrowth. I was losing time here and constantly re-working targets in my head. I met a couple of lovely walkers heading towards me who shouted that Elgol was a km away - thank the lord - and soon I dropped out onto a steep road descent down to the bay where the CP was. For once I let myself sit down in the camp chair and breath. I think this was Lois Simpson's cunning plan to lure runners into staying longer and giving her some chat - she had been on her own for an age and was so cheery, it was great to chat after running in solitude for 12 miles and knowing I had over 22 still to go on my own. I re-fuelled well again and pulled myself up to start along the road. <br>
<br>
<strong>Elgol - Broadford (23 miles, 1077 metres ascent)</strong><br>
I suddenly realised my ITB had gone silent and thanked my body. Again, this section was one I hadn't recced and was curious about as I knew it had a decent level of ascent and seemed a very long split to negotiate and navigate when at my most tired of the day. But I loved the first four miles, a few undulating on the road before hitting a rough forestry track past cool woods and fields, then a long climb on road again. I was still running the road climbs, much preferable than stopping and starting. The first tricky section was also the first I'd seen marked with signage, a left turn off the road past Kirkibost to a faint path leading up the side of forestry. After a mile or so what path there was next to the forest was entirely blocked by felled trees. One I could squeeze under only to become trapped in between several more which were completely impassable. Having had the signage point us this way I wondered if Jeff knew these trees were down and where we were supposed to go - I decided against heading the wrong direction into thick forestry and instead clambered up the tall deer fence to the right, before having to clamber back over it further down the line to search for the trail again. It kept petering out and I could only hope - backed up by the map - that I was heading in the right general direction, reassured a few miles later when I ended up back on a defined track winding gently downhill to the road across the bay from Torrin. Soon I could see Mark ahead again stopped at an extra water station Jeff had organised, manned by John Munro. Before I could reach it he'd set off again, I'm sure my presence was helping his pace and he was trying to avoid being chicked. John gave good pointers on the route ahead, re-filled my water and I grabbed another flapjack and banana. Just over a half marathon to go. <br>
<br>
Another few miles into the small village of Torrin and a long, slow climb on the road up to a right turn after the quarry, after taking too early a right turn and having to ask a farmer I discovered the correct turn was actually signposted for the race too. This road led a mile down to another stretch of coastal path and a final 8 miles to Broadford, varying between track, trail, beach and final climb across a hillside.<br>
<br>
From the road, 3 miles took me to Suisnish and a farm where the path played another disappearing act - after a few minutes of faffing about up and down a field I spotted a fairly obvious path over a fence at the top of the hill and with a sigh of relief got going again. This beautiful single track rose above some dramatic beaches, rock formations and waterfalls and reminded me of the coastal trail from Pennyghael to Carsaig on Mull. Another few miles and I'd reached the ruined village of Boreig, and here I knew there was significant climb before reaching 'the best 7k of your day' as Jamie had put it, into Broadford. Not a soul around here, just an audience of sheep and their lambs lining the trail and racing away. Traversing around Boreig I took what I thought was the right path up a hill but the path quickly became rocky and scrambly and I found I was completing a circle of this hill - with dismay I saw a few hundred feet below what looked like a wider path running next to the river, which I should have been closer to. Down I scrambled, through the most razor blade heather I'd experienced all day. My legs were shredded and by the time I finished I looked like I'd had a few bloody falls.<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt and I at finish (he'd been there a while!)</td></tr>
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<br>
The 7k didn't disappoint, it was special - either flattish or downhill, like the Larig Mor but easier to run on. It was after 9 and the sun was setting across Broadford bay ahead. I knew my multiple detours had taken away my chances of finishing in the 16 hour bracket but I covered the section in 35 mins and my legs felt strong. I finished in Broadford in 17:00 on the nose, first girl and sixth overall. And met by Helen, Fiona, Pauline, Matt and Dawn - what a amazing welcoming committee they were! I was delighted for Matt, who won in an impressive 13:56, with Ross Christie second in 14:50 and James Killingbeck and Bryan Grant joint third 16:05. Annie Garcia was second lady in 23:39 and Angela Bronn third 23:55. I'm still amazed by the selfless support given by Jeff and all the marshals, they were up for the entire weekend with no sleep whatsoever and were cheerful right to the end - I know which I'd find harder. Thank you guys :-)<br>
<strong></strong><br>
<strong>Tips for the race</strong> if you fancy it in the future....recce recce recce...get sleep before...soak up the solitude...look up and all around you, its one special island (a close second to Mull of course!)<br>
<br>
And Mark Hartree....until next time!<br>
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Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-15463452744687037032014-09-05T16:04:00.000-07:002014-09-05T16:06:35.071-07:00Tahoe Rim Trail 50Having been out of action for the third time in the last year with an injury, I've been sulking too much to want to write about running, but now it comes to it its amazing to remember the miles of the Tahoe Rim Trail, which was an all round incredible running experience.<br />
<br />
I flew to the States a week early, heading to Boulder first with the aim of acclimatising then over to Reno four days out from the race. What a town. Framed by the foothills of the Rockies and the beautiful trail heaven of Chataqua Park and the Flatirons, Boulder is a free-thinking haven for outdoorsies, with cycle trails and pedestrianised centre dissimilar to many other American towns. On my first trail run, after a blissful five miles,<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">trail rash</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvkq13gLE4xdFg4N5VWgcqWnE9mDoCP0TUARVJZqwJtCyh6eYHLW2pGmtoLUhnKQ4H1YnHqdlKozivd4FAPtVGYEtgkR1EClSEFhj96uRAJ3mnWjhPr5-eyaiBsMa3X3HPBWpy4xM2kg/s1600/IMG_2385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvkq13gLE4xdFg4N5VWgcqWnE9mDoCP0TUARVJZqwJtCyh6eYHLW2pGmtoLUhnKQ4H1YnHqdlKozivd4FAPtVGYEtgkR1EClSEFhj96uRAJ3mnWjhPr5-eyaiBsMa3X3HPBWpy4xM2kg/s1600/IMG_2385.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">trail elbow</td></tr>
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I hit the deck hard downhill, managing a seemingly impossible scraping of the shoulder, elbow and knee. I thought I'd broken my arm given the bump and bruise that emerged, but reckoned if I could still move it without a lot of pain it must be fine. I was more worried about running the TRT in five days time with a skinless shoulder.<br />
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By Friday though it was beginning to heal up and after a few days of fun scoping of the trail with Rick and Dan I was good to go for the start on Saturday. I'd covered up with a dressing and was now more worried about the occasional pain and pulling right in the top of my left quad/groin, which I'd had for a few weeks but which hadn't been bad enough to stop running - actually thought it was a yoga-inflicted niggle. It had started bothering me more in taper week but all I could do was take the race as it came.<br />
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The TRT is run mostly on alpine forest trails in the Carson Spur of the Sierra Nevada mountains, above the 'Big Blue' Lake Tahoe and a few other lakes. Total elevation gain is just under 9,000ft, with the highest point at 9,200ft and the lowest just under 6,800. Even though the Tahoe Rim Trail itself is a long distance 165 mile trail around the lake, the race course is a series of out and backs for logistical reasons - starting and finishing at Spooner Lake in the north east of Lake Tahoe.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_roioTiRCJiSs_Np82E77r-RlpSyBtJZN_OypHtCJ-H-bMk9iOQsVTjsBSic7lHe9KYogpSDcNMmUmwfuddKUVADfjHQDarZ39CEE4n1Ga_TTrejZeRDO0zr6G_1c5j_TrzZTje9Hv4k/s1600/100_1049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_roioTiRCJiSs_Np82E77r-RlpSyBtJZN_OypHtCJ-H-bMk9iOQsVTjsBSic7lHe9KYogpSDcNMmUmwfuddKUVADfjHQDarZ39CEE4n1Ga_TTrejZeRDO0zr6G_1c5j_TrzZTje9Hv4k/s1600/100_1049.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Hundreds of us set off from Spooner at 6am, for a gentle mile or two until we reached the Marlette Lake Trail which climbs 1500ft through conifer and aspen groves to reach the Tahoe Rim. My sole aims were to run, breathe steady and NOT FALL. Or fall on my left side. The views of Marlette Lake just after sunrise were absolutely spectacular, I wished I'd brought a camera as couldn't stop thinking to myself that I'd never capture that moment again. Soon came the Hobart aid station which I'd read was pretty legendary and it didn't disappoint, with a smoothie bar and a juggler on stilts. I didn't stop and got chatting to a lovely 50k runner - should I be running with the 50k's?- who I disovered was Dan's friend he'd told me about, aiming to place in the 50k. Nope I should not be running with her. I didn't feel like I was pushing but began to hang back.<br />
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The next five mile section brought some beautiful single-track trail with panoramic views. I was in a chain gang of runners, mostly guys, one of whom took a bad fall but seemed ok. It was good to have company and pacing. Then into Tunnel Creek - a decent sized a/s that we would come to three times due to the out/back nature of the course. It was great to see Dan and Rick there and I swiftly re-fuelled on something I <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc6sRTNDmjwEZWkdQlMrJPWTH4M6WzJZtkn98rF1844hB6_QLCJtD71i8DSpS3wkqvik7L15n4_nGJ0Q2n1sqA3Xm6i2G2OSRCIvl1tstYz40zRhy9ShbtI-ATlNFYuyw42Ea701NL_2k/s1600/100_1055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc6sRTNDmjwEZWkdQlMrJPWTH4M6WzJZtkn98rF1844hB6_QLCJtD71i8DSpS3wkqvik7L15n4_nGJ0Q2n1sqA3Xm6i2G2OSRCIvl1tstYz40zRhy9ShbtI-ATlNFYuyw42Ea701NL_2k/s1600/100_1055.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tahoe</td></tr>
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can't remember (generally Lara bars/fruit/water/electrolyte/coke throughout race) and headed down for the notorious 6-mile Red House loop. It kicks off with a couple of mile/1,000 ft downhill on sandy trails into the airless depths, another aid station, then back up for the slippy, sandy climb that folk call the 'glimpse of hell' of the course (although I'd seriously contend this now knowing what was to come!).<br />
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After passing through Tunnel Creek again came a rolling 6-mile section along the TRT. I hadn't been on these sections before as it is so remote to reach and didn't expect it to be quite so rolling,but the trail landscape was again stunning, soft single-track bordered by alpine wildflowers. A small water stop was ahead 3 miles and I reminded myself that I had to fill up properly here, for the next would be 8 miles away in the heat of midday. I had an idea that I was in fifth lady position since Rick shouted the place through Tunnel Creek but the only 50 mile runners I saw for most of the <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9z6pe_9DExCacU-XojP5yMwA_PzvK8k18peqdwhwLOP7i9kWvQdavvIXWB_xvsAruIr4rbq6WHAdzD9uZIizLvueEqeV_wCb3C7_selU6CvpoKgYXHWhAWHy6BokQTMPg7nDj9BghEQc/s1600/100_1059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9z6pe_9DExCacU-XojP5yMwA_PzvK8k18peqdwhwLOP7i9kWvQdavvIXWB_xvsAruIr4rbq6WHAdzD9uZIizLvueEqeV_wCb3C7_selU6CvpoKgYXHWhAWHy6BokQTMPg7nDj9BghEQc/s1600/100_1059.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tunnel Creek</td></tr>
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race were guys, I got chatting to a few and passed a long string of 100 milers. The 100 had started an hour before us and I was constantly amazed at the pace of the runners, particularly the guy who ended up winning - Bob Shebest - in sub 18 hours, an incredible feat at elevation and on such a course (they run the 50 course twice). <br />
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Diamond Peak a/s was a target for me with a plan to reach it in 6 hours. At 30 miles and at the foot of the toughest climb in the race I wanted to be in good condition there. A couple of miles before though I must have lost focus and tripped over a stump, slamming down on the trail, yup - right shoulder first. More annoyed with myself than anything, I kept expecting it to get messy and bleed through the dressing but it didn't happen. I took a dip in a creek at the bottom of the descent to get rid of the trail dust over the skint knees and ran into Diamond Creek. Brilliant again to see Dan & Rick and by this time predictably I wasn't too excited about solid food, instead filling up on coke and taking a bar for the climb.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2y5JsjL48XFn795D0xCRzsBxwOnLfbQADgsnX-Cfy4RhojWA-8pgFcA8alNkluGFS6pFxG55a3aIu7rYnZH7cfkeiG5HnijihTGTNMLTYw-lWWtJgLrXZ4adXMTcWvdZCDwSLOyZHds/s1600/IMG_2361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2y5JsjL48XFn795D0xCRzsBxwOnLfbQADgsnX-Cfy4RhojWA-8pgFcA8alNkluGFS6pFxG55a3aIu7rYnZH7cfkeiG5HnijihTGTNMLTYw-lWWtJgLrXZ4adXMTcWvdZCDwSLOyZHds/s1600/IMG_2361.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a>It was something else. 1,700 feet directly up a sandy pathed ski run in less than two miles. No switchbacks, no shade. It seemed longer than when Dan and I had ventured <br />
up there earlier in the week (when I'd refused to stop and fast hike all the way up, much to Dan's frustration!). It was so steep there wasn't even a chance of fast hiking and I couldn't work out if the struggle was about altitude, fatigue or heat but I had to pause a couple of times on the climb. Chatting to a few 100 milers all I could think was how they had to take this on twice, the next time at 80 miles in.<br />
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I'd originally been registered for the 100 and have now developed huge respect for anyone who takes this race on, it is one hell of a 100. I'd say tougher in many respects than Western States, despite the fact temps can be cooler.<br />
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The climb shook me a bit and I lost time. At the peak we took a right on the trail to connect again with the trail back in the other direction to Tunnel Creek. I couldn't believe how much I was drinking and worried it was too much - I'd emptied two bottles in two miles up the climb and was still thirsty - plus no toilet stops for the entire race - probably not healthy. I managed to get a bit of pace back slowly and reached Tunnel Creek feeling revived but craving coke.<br />
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I struggle to remember the penultimate section back to Hobart circus, just that drinking a smoothie AND coke is not a good combination, and my muddled brain remembering that climb Snow Valley Peak, the highest point of the course, was still to come. I'd hoped I'd be able to run this climb but it just wasn't going to happen so I hiked as hard as I could handle, reaching the beautiful plateau-like summit and a/s run by the boy scout troop. The views were outstandig up here but I was watching the clock by now and keen to get off the summit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpjPqLpd-h2TvlPLFhvXfaEHJ0g_hoopb8CmcBngl3Oz-sjcVs9nHPiz-dLY2RPC6M8DJt8UK9RR0BFNunylCtFflvkTytJLxs_mSLmbFsTY7DZs4SueYF5ZOrdB0tJgC__OHyl1VxUM/s1600/100_1074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpjPqLpd-h2TvlPLFhvXfaEHJ0g_hoopb8CmcBngl3Oz-sjcVs9nHPiz-dLY2RPC6M8DJt8UK9RR0BFNunylCtFflvkTytJLxs_mSLmbFsTY7DZs4SueYF5ZOrdB0tJgC__OHyl1VxUM/s1600/100_1074.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finishing straight</td></tr>
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The home straight: I didn't care about hammering the quads on the 5 mile descent back down to Spooner, although the pain in the top of the muscle was now constantly nagging. I was really hurting after a few miles but I spotted another female runner ahead and tried to focus on leg turnover and form to see if I could maintain speed and catch her. I didn't think she was a 50 miler but found out she was after finishing (she finished a few <br />
seconds ahead of me so I was kicking myself). The downhill seemed like it would never end but eventually we reached level ground and the final (abandoned) aid station, which the kind volunteers had left stocked. By this point the sky was darkening and I sensed the thunder was close - I'd been in Colorado/Nevada for seven days so far and there hadn't been one afternoon without electrical storms, generally starting around 2pm. But I was already back on the final two mile flat around Spooner Lake, and could hear the buzz of the finishing straight for the 50 and the (separate) 50 mile aid station for the 100. I was able to push hard for the last stretch and finished in 10.57 to be met by a couple of volunteers in hot pink micro tutus and fishnets. I was told I was fifth lady but found later it was seventh lady overall and fifth in age group. Happy to squeeze in the top ten and not without a battle with the leg.<br />
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Literally no more than 20 minutes after and a monster thunderstorm hit. The finishing area was transformed into an apocalytpic scene with rivers careering past the tents, children crying, drop bags being soaked, lighning and hail. It continued for an age and all we could think about were the 50 milers still out there and worse still, the 100 milers out there without shelter with over 50 miles to go after being absolutely drenched. It turned out that the Snow Valley Peak a/s had to be shut down due to lightning danger and runners had to shelter with volunteers for an hour or so.<br />
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Without a doubt, TRT was one of my all time race highs - tendinitis issue aside - for the pure fun and beauty of the trails out there. One special race. Maybe one day I'll try the 100 but it will have to be an injury-free, brave day.<br />
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Thank you to Dan and Rick for all your support before and on the day! I'll be back :-)<br />
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<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-46908384559759354732014-04-03T11:45:00.001-07:002014-04-03T11:45:55.627-07:00Three strikes and out<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A friend in the ultra running community told me this week "your ability to tackle the lows as well as the highs is the measure of your worth as a human being". This is good to remember when you are thrown into dealing with injury rather than achieving all of the running ambitions you've planned for the year.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The good news of late is that the fibula stress fracture has healed up nicely. It behaved during a 15 m </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVEqbl6CkER1oznvM_VRz7h6dm_sUw5U44y0dbHTUkeCyQEbcpTaxCaNq4vWjgVAnAQg3vvnRYd8It-4AqesAaWl7h7Uj_-mpF8VzPYlRQMIYq0W9IhmGUGeVybeNxAVKBfWB_stT6ZI/s1600/WHW+run+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVEqbl6CkER1oznvM_VRz7h6dm_sUw5U44y0dbHTUkeCyQEbcpTaxCaNq4vWjgVAnAQg3vvnRYd8It-4AqesAaWl7h7Uj_-mpF8VzPYlRQMIYq0W9IhmGUGeVybeNxAVKBfWB_stT6ZI/s1600/WHW+run+2014.jpg" height="306" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Bumped into this colourful crew on Saturday</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">ile out and back run from Balmaha on Saturday, my longest run since January. In fact I felt no pain with it over the entire weekend. Being back on a trail felt amazing!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The bad news is that my older soft tissue problems are back. I'm not sure they really went away but took a back seat to the fracture. They withstood Saturday's longer run in the sense they didn't stop me running but I can feel them pretty much constantly now, even walking. It's mainly pain and tightness in my right hamstring, an issue that I ignored last year (putting it down to normal post race and training niggles) before it culminated in an IT band injury and stopped me running properly at Glenmore/River Ayr Way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The most ugly of news is that five miles into Sunday's 'recovery' run, where I took myself off for a fartlek trail run, I had sudden pain all over the middle of my back, like a spasm of all the muscles around my upper spine. This was new. I tried to continue running but couldn't, walking back to Tyndrum was hard enough. A bit of drama and quite a few tears later I got home to Edinburgh. I've since seen my osteopath who thinks it might be inflammation or sprain of a facet joint in my thoracic (upper) spine vertebra, with muscles around it spasming. I'd just last week been told by a biomechanical specialist that my QL muscle in left upper back was in spasm, but weirdly until Sunday hadn't had any pain there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I'm determined to get to the root of all the injuries but I've had a few opinions over the months and it's </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">fair to say I've been confused. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have confidence in
each expert but their approaches sometimes conflict<b>. </b>Last a</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">utumn, my physio Guy Van Herp decided the hamstring/ITB problems were due to an SI joint in my pelvis jamming yet un-jamming it didn't seem to improve things, although the ITB
inflammation improved after rest from running. Then my</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: small;">osteopath said the issues were being caused by weak glut muscles, outlining the need to work on strengthening (pilates), TRX etc. She also advised transitioning to minimalist footwear. Then in January when I stepped up the marathon training, the hamstring flared and the fibula pain started. When Guy's stress fracture tests pointed to a fibula fracture, I rested from weight-bearing for six weeks (pool running, cycling and Bikram yoga'ing like a demon).</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Most recently, I saw Nigel McHollan, a Biomechanical Specialist<span style="font-size: small;"> based in Gullane (one of only five in the UK). He tells me my right <span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1396425823763_10988">glut muscles are overused/not firing in correct sequence,
increasing strain on the hamstring. The l</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1396425823763_10998">eft QL muscle in my back is also in spasm and l</span><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1396425823763_10998">eft foot isn't functioning properly</span>: the arch is dropping and I have a growth on my navicular bone, possibly related to ligament damage years ago.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> Either the foot or QL issue are at the heart of the issues down my right side (referred pain) so his treatment is isolating which one it is. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So the body is in great shape! Is it any wonder I'm super paranoid every time I run a few miles. But saying that,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> I'm hopeful that we're at least en route to finding the cause of everything.</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In any case, the only way forward has been to take away any pressure of racing. Without doing so, I really won't have recovery as the sole priority. I'd already changed race plans in February when I was offered a place in the Scotland team for the Anglo Celtic Plate 100k championship, which I was hopeful of taking on in early May. It's obviously now not an option - the Brighton marathon is out of the question this Sunday what with the back pain, and without being able to finish a marathon I probably shouldn't be comtemplating a race twice as long and punishing: co-codomol is not an acceptable fuel to get me through my first 100k. The Tahoe Rim Trail in July is a wait and see job, if anything it
will be the 50 mile distance which I've dropped down to from the 100, but part of me wants to wait and run it in another year where I know I can perform at my peak. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So for now I'll be following advice from another friend - stay positive - as well as that of the right experts, and take each day as it comes with no pressure. Might even formulate a No-Training plan involving copius amounts of pilates, bikram and core work. Hey maybe I'll be biomechanical expert myself at the end of
it all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">**Whilst I am not running Brighton anymore, I'm still trying to raise more for the wonderful work of Marine Conservation Society across Scotland. <a href="http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserPage.action?userUrl=marathonandmore&faId=413789&isTeam=false">Please throw a few in the pot if you can!</a>**</span> </span><br />
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Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-71307027082131643012014-02-06T11:16:00.002-08:002014-02-06T11:19:37.200-08:00Fibula failFibula stress reaction, possible stress fracture, 10 days of total rest: not words I wanted to hear today.<br />
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After what has been a positive January back into running and marathon training proper for Brighton in April, February has brought issues...some familiar, some not so. The hamstring hasn't been perfect, every run over 13 or so miles has brought the familiar nagging pain back and the sciatic nerve pain through my back. I think the remedial core/strengthening work I'm doing a few times a week is bringing improvement but to be honest its hard to tell. I guess if you ignore an issue for as long as I did with the hamstring (which then turned into an IT band problem) then recovery is equally slow. Then earlier this week a completely new sensation reared its head - a very localised pain deep in my lower outer right leg that throbbed during both running and walking. I debated whether to still go along to the newly-joined Portobello RC for a hill reps session last night and decided to go with it to gauge how it felt. I felt it throughout but it was do-able. Then today just walking a few miles to work was a struggle.<br />
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My physio, Guy Van Herp at Meadowbank, thinks its a stress reaction of the fibula, which apparently is one of the most common sites for a stress fracture for ultra runners due to consistent overloading. Having never had any fractures or breaks before, its all new. He thinks it'll be a combination of stepping up the mileage on the road rather than trail for Brighton (albeit gradually) and minimalist footwear - those lovely Altras. I tried selling a good case to him that they are super cushioned and I'd broken them in gradually - don't want to be ANOTHER of those people who injure themselves going minimalist - but he doesn't think gradual enough. I'd love to trace a trail right back to the heart of the problem but sadly the human body doesn't often let us do that. Probably also a classic case of not taking as long completely out of training as I should have last year with injury no. 1.<br />
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It's a game of patience now: wait 10 days with no loading weight on leg at all, see physio again and take it from there. I may or may not have to take further weeks completely off training after. Brighton may or may not be out. I don't want to start any race if I'm not 100% healthy.<br />
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Apparently there's ample opportunity to maintain fitness and even speed (of sorts): game plan hatched for the next few weeks involves Bikram yoga, back to the dreaded pool, intervals on the stationary bike.
Bizarrely, I asked physio if a weekend of downhill skiing would be
allowed, thinking he'd laugh me out the office, but he said yes - if the
boot is high enough and I don't have pain when moving. We'll see!<br />
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Gutted to have to leave Porty RC after two sessions but hoping to be back soon. Their interval sessions are the perfect example of quality over quantity.<br />
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<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-15828368495559556292014-01-02T12:13:00.001-08:002014-01-05T13:08:46.957-08:00New Year, New RacesIt's a shiny new year, Happy 2014 everyone. A world of opportunity for new running experiences and putting into practice what we learnt in 2013. I still feel so fortunate to have experienced Western States last year, as well as see real improvement in my Highland Fling performance and place first lady in the Devil O' The Highlands, before everything went downhill fast as I struggled with the injury at Glenmore and River Ayr Way - a sure sign that I took on too much throughout the year.<br />
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I've just been fun running over the last few months: no training plan but back into the hills, lots of core and strengthening work (following physio orders), and a bit of dreaming about future plans.The hamstring isn't perfect but I've had no IT band pain since September - and the ongoing hamstring niggles are only a positive thing as they keep reminding me to maintain the balance with cross training, core and massage, and not fall back into a routine of just desk work and running.<br />
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New Year's Day morning I found out I had entry into the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 miler out in Lake Tahoe (California/Nevada states) in July, their lottery took place on the stroke of midnight US time with 275 gaining entry to the 100 miler, 200 to the 50 miler and 125 to the 50k distances. It will be a key focus for me and I'm massively excited to get back out there and run those beautiful trails.<br />
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<b>2014 Plans</b><br />
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<b>Brighton Marathon</b></div>
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I wanted a spring marathon to have as a target for regaining some speed over the winter months, to feed into trail races later in the year. Brighton is poker straight and flat, with the route having being flattened further for 2014 to attract more marathon superstars. I'm running for Marine Conservation Society.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLoqO4oaqZrUc9otgmyus-RL6_fdbYRdB_ciU9_Jp3cOGkghyphenhyphenjJ1Y9gfazzLKFSgrMixFfxe_GIDhh721sccpOk5QZL01vBfWiB4VK4hxKPt8Re7nu0zge8ipDP9YwHm3J3dAar_FonOY/s1600/BM+new+course+map+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLoqO4oaqZrUc9otgmyus-RL6_fdbYRdB_ciU9_Jp3cOGkghyphenhyphenjJ1Y9gfazzLKFSgrMixFfxe_GIDhh721sccpOk5QZL01vBfWiB4VK4hxKPt8Re7nu0zge8ipDP9YwHm3J3dAar_FonOY/s400/BM+new+course+map+2014.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The marathon route </td></tr>
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<b>Hoka Highland Fling</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE85iOSv52ZlUdZWqFZX-qBRaozL08qPBHeibNUoA_os8t4mvMaWtFl416UJ97iKXgHHgGlbf5ScK8w5d-FcjaPnIo4dnomMDTGTlkqDJLaFqZqG4T-f5MqbBlIkEwoeO8zeJOo1U-1Xk/s1600/Highland+Fling+x+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE85iOSv52ZlUdZWqFZX-qBRaozL08qPBHeibNUoA_os8t4mvMaWtFl416UJ97iKXgHHgGlbf5ScK8w5d-FcjaPnIo4dnomMDTGTlkqDJLaFqZqG4T-f5MqbBlIkEwoeO8zeJOo1U-1Xk/s400/Highland+Fling+x+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I love the Fling. The sun always seems to shine (hope this doesn't jinx the 2014 race), its a great distance and it was one of my first ultras - ample reason to give a fourth outing a shot! And hopefully I've come on from running in Newton road shoes and blowing up at Beinglas, but you can never take a race like this for granted.<br />
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<b>Transvulcania....but not the big one</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMr_M13C_Xcw2T6iSCOV4KoVakgYyOcIv5A3HqoFqMr-PFAhh4hTyVu9XHNLvou5m8pvJFBCZyWs8l2ooyvUUu8dJ-CvMtqDLdFP1TDf-fWHKObLuJQwMqgHya-Wv0kz3-_ByJ9qq-byM/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMr_M13C_Xcw2T6iSCOV4KoVakgYyOcIv5A3HqoFqMr-PFAhh4hTyVu9XHNLvou5m8pvJFBCZyWs8l2ooyvUUu8dJ-CvMtqDLdFP1TDf-fWHKObLuJQwMqgHya-Wv0kz3-_ByJ9qq-byM/s320/images.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I signed up for a week's holiday in La Palma with the idea of some sun and trails (not much persuasion needed) as well as to cheer on the growing group of folk from Scotland running the Transvulcania ultra - an 80k mountain race up and down one big daddy of a volcano. However I found myself registering for the much shorter marathon distance race as a 'fun' run, which by all accounts still includes the same volcano climb as the big daddy. Eek. <br />
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<b>Tahoe Rim Trail 100</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rim Trail during a training run in June 2013</td></tr>
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I spent time up in Lake Tahoe in 2010 at a friend's family cabin, then last year in training for the Western States. The Rim Trail is absolutely stunning and also deceptive - composed of mostly soft, single track forest trails at average elevation of over 9,000 feet, with significant climbs and some beautiful snow fields. The 100 mile course is a repeat of the 50 mile race distance, which is a series of out and backs and loops. It has over 17,000 feet of elevation gain, a quad-busting 20,000 ft of downhill, and a 50% DNF rate. The trails can be pretty steep, including a 2 mile stretch with 1,700 ft of climb. I remember folk at Western States telling me about the race, that it can be tougher than WS. This makes me fearful but also motivates me to work hard, which can only a good thing, can't it?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The elevation profile of the 50 mile race <br />
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<b>Glenmore 12 </b></div>
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I got my first taste of the fabulous Glenmore 24 last year when I ran the 12 hour option. I loved everything about the race apart from my struggles running it, with the IT band/hamstring pain plaguing me for most of the 12 hours. It's a special race - top notch race organisation by Bill & Mike, beautiful loch-side setting of Glenmore forest in the Cairngorms, a four-mile loop course on rolling trails (passing the camp ground and support each time) and one big social for the entirety. I really want to give it another shot this year, hopefully on better form, not over-raced or injured.</div>
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Happy training & racing folks :-)<br />
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<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-42567273506362017522013-09-20T13:27:00.001-07:002013-09-22T13:12:59.655-07:00A Happy Devil & A Glenmore Struggle<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It's been a while since I've had the time or energy to report on any of the three ultras I've run since Western States (well, two and a half...more on that later) and I had to remind myself why I decided to blog in the first place, back in 2010. To have a record of my races in all their gritty glory, to help me gain perspective, learn and keep on moving forward. And hopefully improve. Despite writing this feeling slightly broken from a mixture of injury, stonking cold and bout of cockle-induced food poisoning, I am hoping this theory will be true and I'll be able to bounce back stronger next year after taking stock of all I've learnt this year and some much-needed R & R. So here's a recap of my final races of 2013... </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Devil o' the Highlands</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>43 miles from Tyndrum to Fort William along the West Highland Way</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Saturday 3rd August</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A less than ideal sleep was had the night before. I managed to mess up the booking at Strathfillan Wigwams, which had me and lovely support Lizzie and James in a super compact hut. Cosy times! We're all seasoned campers and not averse to roughing it, but I told them I'd booked a lodge so they were expecting a bit more. Oops! This combined with slight worries over not having covered much distance after the Western States and whether I'd be fully recovered didn't make for the soundest night's sleep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But 4am came and I snuck out the hut to torrential rain and dark, low cloud stretching as far as I could see. Not a surprise due to the usual pre-race obsessive forecast checking, but still didn't make for a feeling of positive anticipation. Headfirst into the ritual: wash, dress, tape feet (yes, this is what I do post-Western States), prep race belt, force feed myself greek yoghurt & fruit and wake sleeping crew. It feels like a repeat of the 2012 West Highland Way weather-wise but we try to be cheerful and head to registration at the Green Welly in Tyndrum, where Liz made me down a shot of beetroot juice. After registering and chatting to a few folk, we stupidly all huddle underneath the few bits of shelter at the start line in order to stay dry, before we run for 43 miles in the rain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The first miles were fantastic, my legs felt fresh and I felt like running. As soon as we started, the rain didn't bother me and I ran along chatting to a few boys, including Davie Gow who later found out he'd run the Devil with a stress fracture. First race fail was the conservative race plan I'd given Lizzie & James, which had me running through the first checkpoint at Bridge of Orchy (6.75 miles) in a little over an hour, but I found myself, as ususal, hurtling off without feeling like I was hurtling and passing through in around 53 minutes. Nope, I'm not conservative. And no crew to be seen. Fortunately a lovely guy I'd met the night before at the wigwams who was supporting his wife gave me a water refill and I didn't need anything else. The Devil is the first race I think I've ever done with no water available at checkpoints.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The lack of crew at BoO threw me for a few miles as I ran/fast-hiked the hill out, but only because I wondered if they'd stay at BoO too long wondering if I'd fallen or something had happened in the first miles. But by the road section after Inveroran I got chatting to some more dudes (sorry, names escape me) and forgot all about it. This section of over 10 miles passed surprisingly fast - I think because the last time I ran it I was slightly broken on day two of a long back to back with Fionna, Lorna, Davie and Bob - and despite wet & windy conditions and terrible visibility over Rannoch Moor it really was a lot of fun this time, and I felt so surprisingly fresh.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Running the long gentle descent towards the Glencoe checkpoint I spotted with relief the distinctive waterproofs of Liz & James. It was the swift and smooth transition I'd hoped for as I didn't want to stop for more than a minute at each cp. They handed me a fresh handheld with sweet potato zipped into the pocket and I was off down the hill to the A82. On my own on the trail again, I took the chance to nip not too far into the bracken for a she wee. And I'm very sorry to the guy who at that minute came trotting over the hill - at that moment I was wishing the cloud cover was lower than low.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3p-ynYWcos_ymCqt22ZdLbaFGFT_7TqGfPGSx3Lv6oxC_LQmd4CggirPsUyw12P23p5FffaUBSrIu7t4xhVg0BM2cBRexHP82Rif-o1qCzD3qdILdx_FaIr325H0MA66o45hnPI9xNg/s1600/DoTH+2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3p-ynYWcos_ymCqt22ZdLbaFGFT_7TqGfPGSx3Lv6oxC_LQmd4CggirPsUyw12P23p5FffaUBSrIu7t4xhVg0BM2cBRexHP82Rif-o1qCzD3qdILdx_FaIr325H0MA66o45hnPI9xNg/s320/DoTH+2013.jpg" width="239"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Into Lundavra avec nosebleed</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Onwards to the 3 or so miles of trail before the Devil's Staircase and the wind was truly howling down the trail now. Up until then it had largely been behind us but now we were running fully into it and it was taking my breath away and massively affecting speed. The Devil was a joy, had a much-needed walking break and took down a potato and I think a gel on the hike up. The conditions up there were horrendous but two souls cheering at the top despite screaming winds astonished me - Fiona Rennie and Pauline Walker. They put a smile on my face ready for the wild descent, which was so much fun. Miles later came the fire road down into Kinlochleven, which I hadn't run in ages and it dragged a bit. I was conscious of time, and by the time I reached the village I was 10 minutes behind schedule.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I again clocked Liz & James who thrust a replacement bottle at me with some hill snacks packed in there for good measure, to eat on the final big climb out of KL. I asked them if they knew where the next female was behind me but noone knew - I'd known I was first lady since Bridge of Orchy and was keeping decent pace but wanted an idea of placings.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Up into the hike feeling good and mentally ready for the Larig Mor. The last time I'd run it had been during the 2012 West Highland Way Race and I was broken, seeing imaginary ski lifts all around me and cursing the loose rocks and streams to a long-suffering Gregg. It was amazing how fast it passed this time. I jumped at one point hearing a chirpy female voice behind me but it was just Paul Foster with his female support runner friend. We chatted about Western States a bit and kept overtaking each other. In fact I'm pretty sure they were using me as a rabbit to chase down.</span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5hCf57Q0y-R-9dvvS7lZihdo1dFl4hbDLWsz5B7hA44aow-Z85LTzueJbNaPJmuz-uCtIGM-ENf7k2_wDODn2VXDT4CuXVgIc4wpXlu2wDfJGw6pKvYPBafvj7vCe3Y0kGxiKbNbvX9I/s1600/Devil+trophies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5hCf57Q0y-R-9dvvS7lZihdo1dFl4hbDLWsz5B7hA44aow-Z85LTzueJbNaPJmuz-uCtIGM-ENf7k2_wDODn2VXDT4CuXVgIc4wpXlu2wDfJGw6pKvYPBafvj7vCe3Y0kGxiKbNbvX9I/s320/Devil+trophies.jpg" width="320"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">shiny devils</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Onto Lundavra and I wasn't sure the crew would be there but there they were, sheltering from the driving rain. It had long since stopped bothering me and I was loving being out in the wild elements and dramatic scenery, surrounded by Munros on all sides. A mile or so before the CP I'd developed a random nose bleed, so ran up to the guys asking for tissues and Lorna & Johnny Fling sprung to the rescue with some. Lorna also told me the second place female was within ten minutes of me, which served to put a rocket where it needed to be. I set off for the humps and bumps up into the forest before the descent to Fort William, running all of them steadily. By the descent I was feeling great despite the familiar ache of the right hamstring and glute, and hammered down into Braveheart car park, spotting the point Gregg and I went wrong during the WHW Race. Then came the road section, less than a mile up to finish at the roundabout in Fort William. I'd known for a while my sub 7 target was well out of reach but I'd settle for sub 7 15 in the conditions, so ran as hard as I could to reach the rather sudden pavement finish in 7.14, where James, Liz, Lorna and John stood in the rain. Delighted. 11 minutes later Gail Tait crossed the line in second then came Noanie in 7 33. Overall winner was John McLaughlin with a time of 6.02. Overall results <b><a href="http://www.devilothehighlandsfootrace.co.uk/">here.</a></b></span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrReVLzN65zXyRQYMRJk5d4GggEVZqjl3kwCORVMPx4OqrXcZTRd6tfwSfQmGvsMKUGqSWC4Hqw4artQ3r5ec6pEc_QcBGJZKS4uHffD3vLmlJ8NnZ0Pj5_fWt5JgwACrUJQdBzz9t3Uw/s1600/Energy+balls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrReVLzN65zXyRQYMRJk5d4GggEVZqjl3kwCORVMPx4OqrXcZTRd6tfwSfQmGvsMKUGqSWC4Hqw4artQ3r5ec6pEc_QcBGJZKS4uHffD3vLmlJ8NnZ0Pj5_fWt5JgwACrUJQdBzz9t3Uw/s200/Energy+balls.jpg" width="200"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">energy balls</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">During the race I fuelled mainly on natural energy sources - roast sweet potatoes, energy balls (made from dates, nuts, and coconut) and I think there was a cheeky carbolicious Stoats bar in there somewhere- it all worked really well for me on the day. I felt positive throughout and enjoyed every section, despite the wind & rain. Well, I think I did - it was a while ago now, race amnesia may have kicked in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Glenmore 24</b></span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Saturday 6th September, 12 and 24 hour race options on a 4 mile loop around Glenmore Forest in the Cairngorms</i></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My physio, Guy Van Herp, gave me the green card the week before Glenmore. I'd been to him following two long runs after the Devil, during which I'd experienced sudden knee pain, both times having to stop (can't stand stopping even for traffic lights so this was new). By the time I saw him I'd had a week off running and couldn't feel any pain in the knee anymore, so after a spot of lasering and manipulating my SI joint he said I should be fine.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Glenmore is a bit of a unique and special race. I knew this even before I'd run it, and had been meaning to since it began in 2011. There is a 12 and a 24 hour option, with the lion's share of runners taking on the 24. It is a loop race, with a 4 mile trail around Glenmore forest and Loch Morlich shaping the route. Runners pass their camping and support area every 4 miles (the Hayfield) and another half way drinks station on the other side of the loop.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Co-organiser Mike of Bill and Mike fame (BaM) had only recently given me a spot from the waiting list for the 12 and that was fine with me, what with the recent issues and summer miles in the body. I didn't have support for this one, as James was off foraging for his dinner with friends in the wilds of Perthshire and friends were all away so I rocked up in a truly ridiculous hire car that only a total girl would drive. Once again the weather had been atrocious on the drive up on Saturday morning - torrential downpours and high winds on the A9 - and negotiating the roads in the little red tin can of a car was interesting but took my mind off running 12 hours in this weather. Hold on, didn't I say I would never complain about gruesome Scottish weather again after Western States?</span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixZJDelszr30SxuAcYBklvgFtot-Jd1RBwzq2j26uhsPAgJF6kJwabIv8HhAoDF_nsWfYYxIbKyU_FPW_Ul-V4JgxxJfEJQ7ev92cXRJNck_Cz6O862AwjlC1-CdkzTyVT6ZKyGXq7JrA/s1600/self+support+Glenmore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixZJDelszr30SxuAcYBklvgFtot-Jd1RBwzq2j26uhsPAgJF6kJwabIv8HhAoDF_nsWfYYxIbKyU_FPW_Ul-V4JgxxJfEJQ7ev92cXRJNck_Cz6O862AwjlC1-CdkzTyVT6ZKyGXq7JrA/s320/self+support+Glenmore.jpg" width="320"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Support crew</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">There was already a cracking vibe in the Hayfield - familiar smiling faces, banter and Ada with her cattle prod for keeping runners under control (seriously). I set up my tent on my own - first time in 2 years - then laid out a box of race supplies, nutrition etc in front of the tent ready for re-fuelling each time I passed on each four mile lap. Extremely handy for self-support. Then lo and behold, the sun emerged and the clouds cleared to leave brilliant blue skies ready for the midday start. After an entertaining race briefing by Bill and Andrew Murray (little did I know the advice on painkillers would become very relevant to me) we assembled ourselves loosely around the start and set off into the sun. </span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicQ1UIeSDkJlordKpZAk-23SkZ44E16U0TWoCpniE4QW8dqpXhycKeEgjGGwc7bvjyW-Ils9Zl00QMWtetm0RbVUUX7l2Umzms7Z-em2OE-VI5SefO6rBs3z7v-SWIa8_mBj5bhYNUUyw/s1600/Glenmore+start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicQ1UIeSDkJlordKpZAk-23SkZ44E16U0TWoCpniE4QW8dqpXhycKeEgjGGwc7bvjyW-Ils9Zl00QMWtetm0RbVUUX7l2Umzms7Z-em2OE-VI5SefO6rBs3z7v-SWIa8_mBj5bhYNUUyw/s400/Glenmore+start.jpg" width="400"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Go. Thanks to BaM for pic.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Round for the first lap: short, sharp uphill on the grass, gorgeous wooded trail to the Loch, flat paths around the Loch, up a few gentle rises to the half-way checkpoint (excellent tunes!), up a longer gentle rise then down and round some trails back to the Hayfield. I need to do this 16 times for the minimum mileage I'd be happy with. I really want to do it 18 times. Simple, right?</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Johnny Fling and I ran much of the first few laps together and it just felt like a training run. Except we were probably running a bit faster. He was feeling great, racing me for a 10k best it seemed and flying past on all the downhills. It was so sunny, the trail was beautiful and my knee felt good, all my excuses for flying off at a similar rate. We had some good chats, and passed through the Hayfield to complete the first four mile lap in just over 30 minutes. Oh dear. I dropped back and ended up trailing close behind Johnny Downhill for a few more laps, whilst chatting to a few others at various points too, including the picture of radiance Antonia, who was literally bouncing up the trail. We had a nice catch up until we reached the Hayfield again and our respective support points - her cheering Scott and my plastic box. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Lap 5 came and went, followed by a sinking feeling from some familiar sharp pains around the outer right knee and the mental downer that came with it. I ran on my own as felt I needed to focus and think about what to do.</span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1amUsyxP8GAGEbevySYEYGNqWSd4N1I6j6eQrbeQj9nIwvZC4spU6rVQ7IdXIO1ByGzepWpJ-bk4Nbubalw-LSPZh6fVSjleeZ_6CEE8UALWOoRsWftv3xCQD23-8unhDbYIjfa8sZrc/s1600/Loch+Morlich+Glenmore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1amUsyxP8GAGEbevySYEYGNqWSd4N1I6j6eQrbeQj9nIwvZC4spU6rVQ7IdXIO1ByGzepWpJ-bk4Nbubalw-LSPZh6fVSjleeZ_6CEE8UALWOoRsWftv3xCQD23-8unhDbYIjfa8sZrc/s320/Loch+Morlich+Glenmore.jpg" width="213"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The beautiful Loch Morlich (thanks BaM)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Lap 8 (mile 32) and I was now in real pain - across the knee, down the hamstring, deep in the glute and up my back, all connected. The main downhill on the course was really hurting and my form was blown to pieces as I was putting a lot of weight on the other leg. I decided to stop in the physio tent (thank goodness for this creation!) and had a mini meltdown as I hobbled in with a lump in my throat, pretty sure I was going to have to DNF this amazing race when I wasn't even halfway through. The physio, from Active Health in Edinburgh - whose name escapes me, sorry - took a look and agreed it was the ITB problem and that my hamstring was in spasm too. She spent 15 minutes or so getting right in there and stripping out the tough bits. Andrew Murray gave me some paracetamol and they both surprised me by telling me to get back out there and try another lap after taking in some calories. I'd been concerned about doing more damage but when they told me this wouldn't really happen with the ITB it gave me the kick I needed to suck it up and get back out there. In two minutes I was back on the trail, with dramatic improvement. The leg felt looser with hardly any pressure around the knee.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I looped around for 3 or so more laps, feeling so much better and hoping it would last. The addition of the i-Shuffle helped massively to put me in a better place, 80's classics were the theme to Glenmore. Mentioning no names. After mile 44 things began to get blurry again and the pain came back with a vengeance. I took more paracetamol but it didn't seem to make any difference. It was getting dark too, and I held off on the headtorch for as long as possible, wanting to run in the evening light. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I was also having stomach problems for one of the first times in a race and was wondering if I'd taken in too many calories, or too much sugar for my system. I'd certainly had more than usual in races - sweet potatoes but also quite a few gels and Clif Builder bars.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Bob Steel ran my final lap with me and it was great to catch up about his UTMB experience and have my mind taken off the dud leg. I think he might have told me to man up, but stuck with me the whole way round even though he was running a relay and could have gone a lot faster. I'd already decided this was my last big lap and I didn't want to do any mini ones.</span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEvv9iokRXFYXq9bYoVtbvyI4wrQLM8Gk5GJZYSsrxQg7iBNogRvUJW6DfU5JEzdTy5TkbU2ynbvTTT17U5l5M8uoiQuvUSsKmYV7bBWCPiw7IJYZ73vcmKt88LjgTF08PGe7f_Ywrc4/s1600/Glenmore+finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEvv9iokRXFYXq9bYoVtbvyI4wrQLM8Gk5GJZYSsrxQg7iBNogRvUJW6DfU5JEzdTy5TkbU2ynbvTTT17U5l5M8uoiQuvUSsKmYV7bBWCPiw7IJYZ73vcmKt88LjgTF08PGe7f_Ywrc4/s320/Glenmore+finish.jpg" width="320"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Wincing through the wee loops</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But back to Hayfield and the mini-laps were starting - runners without enough time to start another 4 mile would now run around on a 0.2 mile stretch of undulating grass until the 12 hour whistle was blown. I decided in the grand scheme of things it was only another 40 minutes. I tried to start it against the grain but BaM called me back and set me right. I don't know how many laps I did but it felt like about 15 and I was physically and mentally done by this point, with every downhill jarring my knee. Lorna and a heap of others were cheering us round on every lap which was lovely. Meanwhile, the brave crew of 24 hour runners were heading out on more big laps. I couldn't imagine anything more terrible at this point and think I needed to be told to man up again. We were doing the sprint option after all. With a few minutes to go we were all given our own special tent peg with our race number taped onto it, to plug into the ground wherever we were when time was up, so BaM could measure our additional distance. I ended up slap bang right outside my tent. Done.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Grand plans of staying up over some beers didn't really happen, I managed a seat and a laugh with the others for half an hour instead. With a Yop. Then a night wrapped up three times like a sausage in a damp duvet I thought would be cosy (James never lets me take it on our joint camping trips) and I got up to see the 24'ers still plugging away. Amazing. Sadly I had to get back to Edinburgh to hand back the tin-car but found out placings first and learnt of Antonia's impressive mileage, winning with 75 miles clocked. My mileage was 0.1 beneath 67 (third female), with Melanie Sinclair coming second female with 68 miles. <b><a href="http://glenmore24.com/results/2013-12-hour-race">Full results here.</a></b></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So it was a tough one. I don't wish I hadn't stopped in the physio tent - yes, I might have been able to squeeze in another lap and increase the mileage but on the other hand I know that the pain wouldn't have temporarily improved and my brain would have been telling me running through it was wrong. Both the physio and Andrew Murray played a big role in helping me finished so huge thanks to them :-)</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I really want to go back and run Glenmore when I am 100% healthy and feeling good. The forest, the camping, the party, the people, it's a special one that I checked out of far too early this year. Thanks so much BaM, what an amazing weekend you've created. And massive respect and well done to all the other 12 and especially 24 hour runners and selfless, cheerful supporters and marshalls. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>River Ayr Way 2013</b></span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Saturday 14th September, reverse course of 41.2 miles from Ayr to Glenbuck</i></span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyPpcJ8gQHTiLmaAGx_teLMYwI43FVKt5mQF7al5hkZtjvXBDDzqL3TDrIBrs8fJyLQ4Zo0whuhvjGOy-6e7ppCXJqrOXWOHxOrSsEhH8wEagMmU8C-AwpxO32UaqftBiQ-RbexFrPIhM/s1600/RAW+start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyPpcJ8gQHTiLmaAGx_teLMYwI43FVKt5mQF7al5hkZtjvXBDDzqL3TDrIBrs8fJyLQ4Zo0whuhvjGOy-6e7ppCXJqrOXWOHxOrSsEhH8wEagMmU8C-AwpxO32UaqftBiQ-RbexFrPIhM/s400/RAW+start.jpg" width="300"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">RAW start</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I'd regsitered for RAW, or WAR, given 2013 would see the first reverse running of the course, several months ago, and given the potential for more SUMS points (RAW was the final SUMS race so the last chance to increase score) I thought even despite the obvious onset of injury I may as well give it a crack. Sometimes injury pain can mysteriously disappear. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But not this one...we set off from the centre of Ayr against a backdrop of clear blue skies and the sparkling River Ayr and from the second mile I could feel my knee throbbing. As the miles ticked by down the trail and road sections things got worse until I was pulling all kinds of faces on the downhills, which were just gentle slopes. I'd slowed considerably by the first checkpoint at mile 9 and a mile or so past there Kathy Henly passed me and I decided I'd try hang in there until the next major checkpoint at mile 19 then drop. Despite pain up what felt like my entire leg and terrible, unbalanced form, I was struggling to accept I'd have to DNF for the first time. What would it feel like not reaching the finish of a race? Feeling like I'd failed? Like this could happen again if I let it happen this time? I let these thoughts in for a short while then had a stern chat with myself. It's just a race. There are far more important things going on all around us all of the time and it'd be pure ego to focus on the failure for any longer than several minutes.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I stopped running a few miles ahead of the mile 19 checkpoint and took a stroll in the sun. Soon as I stopped I felt relieved and really enjoyed just walking up the trail in the bright sunshine, stretching the leg off and chatting to the folk passing me, including Kirsty Burnett who would come second lady, Carrie Craig who would finish third and Robert Osfield who helped me with his metabolic efficiency research for the Western States and finished a brilliant race in seventh place. A few guys even walked with me for a short while which was lovely, and when I reached the checkpoint I dropped and hung out with the marshalls for a while at a few different points. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anneke put on a great race again, and the route was even prettier than I remember from 2011, especially in the autumn sunshine. Like Glenmore, I'm keen to get back and run the race when fit and healthy to do so.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>SUMS</b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviX7eKsK490h3epXc4v2cRjuAXqDrCl-VIPGga4A0_h_ysyGy2XsS0dkDepeRjfLYAPYKRKRcvAsosGwSGO1eCxASMY5wMKMqlzNpKbWtYi-6je7INY0Sygz3qDbRVodYZECVhOFCgCY/s1600/SUMS+Results.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviX7eKsK490h3epXc4v2cRjuAXqDrCl-VIPGga4A0_h_ysyGy2XsS0dkDepeRjfLYAPYKRKRcvAsosGwSGO1eCxASMY5wMKMqlzNpKbWtYi-6je7INY0Sygz3qDbRVodYZECVhOFCgCY/s320/SUMS+Results.jpg" width="320"></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Scottish Ultra Marathon Series was reinvented this year, with the premise being that runners have to run a minimum of three of the thirteen eligible Scottish ultra to compete and if they run more than three their best three scores will count. My results from the<a href="http://chaptersinrunning.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/a-fling-with-friends.html"> Highland Fling</a>, the Devil and Glenmore counted as my three and I placed second overall female behind Rosie Bell and ahead of Kathy Henly (winner of River Ayr this year). The pretty little crystal glass is working the mantlepiece next to my 2011 SUMS decanter, though I have a feeling James is soon going to relegate some of these to the spare room with all the Mull half marathon bling. <a href="http://scottishultramarathonseries.org/">Full SUMS results here.</a></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Plans</b></span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rest. Yoga. Core work. Physio and osteopath. That's about it for this year until I feel this injury is truly healed. I'm not messing about trying to run here and there with just more days off in between.<b> </b>I also have some mental strengthening to do for when I am in pain. I feel I can cope well with that exhausted, end of race pain - if you can call it that - and I actually enjoy it up to a point when I feel race-fit, but when it comes to staying positive through injury pain that's another thing altogether. Admittedly it isn't sensible to run or race at all with an injury, even on the miles that I felt slightly better it was hard to shake the negative mindset and stop counting the miles down to the end of the race. I'm not racing again until 2014 but looking forward to the change. And working on the race plan for next year :-)</span></span></div>
Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-43559980415696977222013-07-18T07:17:00.000-07:002013-07-18T07:17:04.669-07:00Western States in PhotosThanks so much to Dan, Facchino Photography and Tonya Richards for this collection of photos from Western States - a permanent reminder of my race experience and all the people involved. They sure bring back all the highs, lows, heat, pain, stunning surroundings and support that made race day everything it was.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-race abode: Dan & Kathy's holiday trailer in the beautiful setting of Truckee</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-BobLlaFJ-f5Fojt1Usgtra0CGgzlHIsc5vFuTNxKPtPAJzTT78XtbHKmv480nh1g6onBEGiOB9jINDZLAhWgANNgEiz-N2tcAypgMYHIhimU6wzMHVAvpvPntacBx9RnZabOgpxVrM/s1600/7186_552479891483408_41505480_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-BobLlaFJ-f5Fojt1Usgtra0CGgzlHIsc5vFuTNxKPtPAJzTT78XtbHKmv480nh1g6onBEGiOB9jINDZLAhWgANNgEiz-N2tcAypgMYHIhimU6wzMHVAvpvPntacBx9RnZabOgpxVrM/s400/7186_552479891483408_41505480_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thursday: Western States Veteran's Panel - Gordy Ainsleigh the founder second from right</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqjh0XK071GEkC9j5czO-caz49Rm6R6BR0Ev6KzAYD63FVOmceDggKEPg2wqJPg3P4zQ0FsImWyR4yDXBbHdwY7ZxiVB7xShuR75hvZe6Bn7QLErz-CT5gyLL2ZFNeNY5lquf_QisFKs/s1600/600474_552481091483288_589364745_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqjh0XK071GEkC9j5czO-caz49Rm6R6BR0Ev6KzAYD63FVOmceDggKEPg2wqJPg3P4zQ0FsImWyR4yDXBbHdwY7ZxiVB7xShuR75hvZe6Bn7QLErz-CT5gyLL2ZFNeNY5lquf_QisFKs/s400/600474_552481091483288_589364745_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Race Briefing on Friday: 2012 Top 10/Elite Men</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhArGuBOVOFU0OAYAQ8qdz1mmyuDTBAIeio7UjXq4Ttp0dzEqU3Z3qASm3CYCgqNOT_mhUERvCKB6PmrnxKJ9iJdeRVJICrKDZlR_2ZfTscDWjjaBkDpaw7E4da9iqgx25-tAt_cHa5MJc/s1600/993598_552480858149978_290959585_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhArGuBOVOFU0OAYAQ8qdz1mmyuDTBAIeio7UjXq4Ttp0dzEqU3Z3qASm3CYCgqNOT_mhUERvCKB6PmrnxKJ9iJdeRVJICrKDZlR_2ZfTscDWjjaBkDpaw7E4da9iqgx25-tAt_cHa5MJc/s400/993598_552480858149978_290959585_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012 Top 10 Women</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnaeTG9Lj5h5dDBMmdGIAVSRYUmmZjmyXtNnO4ykFWVuhYMsQfsJdB26Qr7vbtMTdb49oPU0kDYDXgZ6kJdn5BrntTnY2SZ-YKR33vqgOjvFxOESBLo3EZcZ5FYFDNIH0pdU1NyFfnsFc/s1600/1044665_552481211483276_757402000_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnaeTG9Lj5h5dDBMmdGIAVSRYUmmZjmyXtNnO4ykFWVuhYMsQfsJdB26Qr7vbtMTdb49oPU0kDYDXgZ6kJdn5BrntTnY2SZ-YKR33vqgOjvFxOESBLo3EZcZ5FYFDNIH0pdU1NyFfnsFc/s400/1044665_552481211483276_757402000_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to start at Squaw: these clothes will never be this white again</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitqVzjCo1W61KINKIuIGmVpuOv_si_lrl9jKNCmxhXpcWdYJMtfjUK_TAdk3aFAopppUjb9o68emk7MNyTGCbDwFfEZs3cJFWN8m_txipR9tSem9h0wBUmtNtfmZY2JfymxhWRRdgpC6c/s1600/IMG_0876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitqVzjCo1W61KINKIuIGmVpuOv_si_lrl9jKNCmxhXpcWdYJMtfjUK_TAdk3aFAopppUjb9o68emk7MNyTGCbDwFfEZs3cJFWN8m_txipR9tSem9h0wBUmtNtfmZY2JfymxhWRRdgpC6c/s640/IMG_0876.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start of the climb up to Emigrant Pass (taken Thursday)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQ3BALOKb8hZj5xMDVq40AXCsU34BTC8y3zwNpnKHh1Wi7Gg6tQPou6Bhy02aq7HllcJ1HAkFnhijJ6SLhsPhyphenhyphen7HpKFt2ihoR30z0D_SUcmB4SiBGsMaad1ikRPqABD3d1RglwvaAHW8/s1600/1011181_552481248149939_2056423182_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQ3BALOKb8hZj5xMDVq40AXCsU34BTC8y3zwNpnKHh1Wi7Gg6tQPou6Bhy02aq7HllcJ1HAkFnhijJ6SLhsPhyphenhyphen7HpKFt2ihoR30z0D_SUcmB4SiBGsMaad1ikRPqABD3d1RglwvaAHW8/s400/1011181_552481248149939_2056423182_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some fast dudes at the front. Probably about to run up Emigrant Pass!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiilgPVl2d7cXGMoU_sQdFIJN9Tg6-DgaV4j3cDgXuwSjoaRloYG0lalJCT6zYO_PxZburxSvcY9O0xMtxXW79NhIb3KLAVXDO8aj1MUn1AYl9xBnzhLGoEzTrVlbX-a5eON6rLTVBJqo/s1600/116489-01-210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiilgPVl2d7cXGMoU_sQdFIJN9Tg6-DgaV4j3cDgXuwSjoaRloYG0lalJCT6zYO_PxZburxSvcY9O0xMtxXW79NhIb3KLAVXDO8aj1MUn1AYl9xBnzhLGoEzTrVlbX-a5eON6rLTVBJqo/s400/116489-01-210.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cresting the Escarpment at 3.5 miles in, 8.700 ft<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwL_fBGT0fO3PH0iRcRiIh6jybsgXqPDb4R1v6lEZfkzszU_j_a1XM27C2Z01xCFACd85QyaOXIyRRaJopoMhgb1cdSeyMk5aHfQWNHiaHjj441YxtWo8G4MMfRZjjzXzYsuTrD8-C26c/s1600/IMG_0882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwL_fBGT0fO3PH0iRcRiIh6jybsgXqPDb4R1v6lEZfkzszU_j_a1XM27C2Z01xCFACd85QyaOXIyRRaJopoMhgb1cdSeyMk5aHfQWNHiaHjj441YxtWo8G4MMfRZjjzXzYsuTrD8-C26c/s400/IMG_0882.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
View from Emigrant Pass (taken Thursday)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGW_GrZuRdEIou5nXM-vdf1PMlnJz5pHkUAija8cuBpyMniYazUziIdKBuKdhLiCb4GVr8CXAgYmg_V_fPqF-ZSAuszlYdO07Yb2VgAmbNZ4pQoEuii4pWb_kyi-lM-egyNbGwqxe1RQ/s1600/116489-02-147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGW_GrZuRdEIou5nXM-vdf1PMlnJz5pHkUAija8cuBpyMniYazUziIdKBuKdhLiCb4GVr8CXAgYmg_V_fPqF-ZSAuszlYdO07Yb2VgAmbNZ4pQoEuii4pWb_kyi-lM-egyNbGwqxe1RQ/s400/116489-02-147.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Around or nearby Lyon Star Ridge (I think) after 10 miles</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPOGDfkb9LuUJLBzz1AFjK_R8oQb06JfDpI6KBZSnLC_hJKDT4Z_Vp4t8Cqv-Sm4lR2FgmBfpcjeiEHw4TzbWAUrzKeHQqKQt-EDXUmQKtwOB2rHi2hytu5Vc1aIjYIgytYUxN2NdNcs/s1600/116489-03-335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPOGDfkb9LuUJLBzz1AFjK_R8oQb06JfDpI6KBZSnLC_hJKDT4Z_Vp4t8Cqv-Sm4lR2FgmBfpcjeiEHw4TzbWAUrzKeHQqKQt-EDXUmQKtwOB2rHi2hytu5Vc1aIjYIgytYUxN2NdNcs/s400/116489-03-335.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The heat is turned on: heading down from Duncan Canyon ahead of the climb to Robinson Flat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mp31uShmlJ_jUnGXQ8_H-RjaZzEo4J85KA2-KsT5c_7TsTiBpzDC0MYYIdCdyyCFPuxdQyakWzEyHjqHn5GE_CBz7MOcNct0L-W-KFSZYdaJXVjlC49ocN4C7I8mVt8mWWloGARJRXo/s1600/116489-03-337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mp31uShmlJ_jUnGXQ8_H-RjaZzEo4J85KA2-KsT5c_7TsTiBpzDC0MYYIdCdyyCFPuxdQyakWzEyHjqHn5GE_CBz7MOcNct0L-W-KFSZYdaJXVjlC49ocN4C7I8mVt8mWWloGARJRXo/s400/116489-03-337.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the creek crossings: hard not to just dive in and stay there</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMUd4qyAVLfwulcrx2_qnuLhI6Kw5OQ4yCiPOmgMd25y6DF5bqBDV6YpgmwFp7Xc4pOGO_5-5vXiNTXempgZULDV81jOS2gVVQGA5UCC7uNqUIcWYjUGxbTp2BX257yFUkTPy_w8yVaVA/s1600/1048257_10151665838698808_318302685_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMUd4qyAVLfwulcrx2_qnuLhI6Kw5OQ4yCiPOmgMd25y6DF5bqBDV6YpgmwFp7Xc4pOGO_5-5vXiNTXempgZULDV81jOS2gVVQGA5UCC7uNqUIcWYjUGxbTp2BX257yFUkTPy_w8yVaVA/s400/1048257_10151665838698808_318302685_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Being doused by one of the incredible volunteers (Duncan Canyon I think)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbFCLOYN9pDJ2nhBiq0SbuIPyx5GjlB9itam8ZeLSPnVYnJqeqoTX1pOj6oweNvFONF5DFeewE0LKyzAb6BIB5GvHWzIWHZ8HrpML9X4Tc5GFvne7BtQnjpxAApE95dns0eRVLszghQc/s1600/DSC04068-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbFCLOYN9pDJ2nhBiq0SbuIPyx5GjlB9itam8ZeLSPnVYnJqeqoTX1pOj6oweNvFONF5DFeewE0LKyzAb6BIB5GvHWzIWHZ8HrpML9X4Tc5GFvne7BtQnjpxAApE95dns0eRVLszghQc/s400/DSC04068-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Encouraging crowds of vols, crews, supporters at Michigan Bluff, 55 miles</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHluGGltNc3Ghjmmcnc9GUVjI0J-sps5IaHfakItnQ_L-sZUpZj0N7tATb5YyDow6av9PHLxHTdnFEUJSKwYY7cgtkesFqebe7dQIL3CfhEAGmcvTPddJnK_dbjxMC4QsxvpseyIYD0Q/s1600/1044770_552484514816279_2049220430_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHluGGltNc3Ghjmmcnc9GUVjI0J-sps5IaHfakItnQ_L-sZUpZj0N7tATb5YyDow6av9PHLxHTdnFEUJSKwYY7cgtkesFqebe7dQIL3CfhEAGmcvTPddJnK_dbjxMC4QsxvpseyIYD0Q/s400/1044770_552484514816279_2049220430_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running into Michigan Bluff aid station, after the toasting 110 degree canyons<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crew extraordinaire Dan with Ellie Greenwood at Michigan Bluff<br />
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Crew wheels <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my incredible pacers/support Tera and Erik at Foresthill. 6pm and still roasting.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob Krar (second place) coming through Foresthill</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike Morton (third place) coming through Foresthill</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My other pacer Marc (Green Gate to Highway 49) - was he saying how far I still had to go?!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At last! At the Rucky Chucky River Crossing (mile 78) - one of the highlights of my entire race. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out and into a 2 mile climb to Green Gate</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No Hands Bridge, mile 96: NOT taken on race day, when it was all lit up in the dark!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The finish line in Auburn just before 4am. Dazed and confused.</td></tr>
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<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-74922884100332038272013-07-01T17:49:00.001-07:002013-07-04T17:05:57.944-07:00Western States: Surviving the Sauna<div>As per my last post, I was delighted when the day of the 'Big Dance' finally came around, after so many months of preparation, not to mention 10 nervous, forecast-checking days in California/Nevada beforehand. It was so much more than I expected in many ways: the huge level of support and kindness shown by those involved with the race, the scale of the ascent and descent, the pain and discomfort, the importance of crew and pacers in reaching goals. Oh and the heat. More a life experience than just an ultra marathon.</div><div><br>
</div><div>After the few days of cool temps and rain in the week before, the heat was turned back on before race day, with a heat wave forecast for inland California for the weekend of around 102 Fahrenheit (around 38 Celsius). Dan - my main crew, who lives in Reno - had offered up his holiday trailer in Truckee, 20 mins from Squaw Valley, so we stayed there after registration and an exciting race briefing on Friday, which was full of ultra stars. RD Craig Thornley presented the male and female favourites for the top ten then preceded to give a very specific weather forecast, with the stellar advice for every runner to throw their split goals away and aim to adjust them not only by 10 or 15 minutes but by a good couple of hours. The day before we'd been to a WS veterans panel and ultra legend Ann Trason - who won WS 14 times and held the female record for 20 years until Ellie Greenwood broke it last year - gave similar advice, to 'respect the heat'. </div><div><br>
</div><div>Predicably I hardly slept the night before, but reassured myself that I'd had a solid ten days of early nights and good 8 hour sleeps behind me - rock & roll I know. We had a timing issue in the morning due to watches and alarms not being in sync so ended up being in a bit of a stress to get to the bib pick up for 4.15am, but we made it and the atmosphere and electricity at the start was incredible. Lots of hollering and whooping, motivational music and spectators and crews lining the steep trail 3.5 miles up to Emigrant Pass. </div><div><br>
</div><div>The start took my breath away, literally. We'd hiked up the pass a few days earlier and I'd been relieved to feel no effects of altitude at all. But the race was a different story. Not sure if it was the results of adrenalin, nerves or tiredness but I could feel a tightness and slight wheeze as we neared the summit at 8,700 feet and for some miles after. Most of the climb was too steep to run but I fast-hiked/ran the gentler parts. From Emigrant Pass came a large section of the trail I had never seen and from the elevation chart it looked like this would be a steady, largely runnable section to just before Robinson Flat at mile 29, but there were far more climbs than I expected. </div><div><br>
</div><div>I was in a longish chain of male runners for what seemed like miles and was keen to get some of my own space, so passed a few whilst trying to keep my heart rate steady. I was determined to stick to my goal mantras to not ever let my heart rate or exertion level climb too much, to run my own race and to constantly remind myself that it is the mind that controls my body, not the other way round - where the mind goes the body will follow. The first goal would prove to be impossible with the heat and climbs.</div><div><br>
</div><div>The oven was switched on earlier than expected, not helped by some exposed areas from Lion's to Red Star Ridge (miles 10.5-16) and surprisingly I found this early section really tough as my body was adapting to the conditions. Coming into Duncan Canyon at 23 miles was a boost, as the aid station was really lively and I had an ice sponge down by cheering volunteers, the first of very many to come.<br>
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I'd read detailed course descriptions obsessively, including AJW's and Craig Thornley's, but I seemed to forget how major the climb up to Robinson Flat was, 4 miles in total. With the heat increasing by the hour and knowing I still had the major canyons to come, this was tough. I hiked as fast I could and reached Robinson (29 miles) by 6.12, 8 mins ahead of 24hr pace. There was a lot going on there, and another lovely boost to see Rick Moyer, who I'd run with the w/e before. He was waiting for his runner Anna to come through. I was weighed and met Dan, already I didn't want the savoury food planned but took half an avocado turkey wrap, changed from Buff to cap for ice storing, picked up an iced neckerchief and set off for the mile climb out.</div><div><br>
</div><div>Next came the canyons, or so I thought. After the climb we began a steady descent into Miller's Defeat aid station at mile 34 and the trail turned out to be very runnable for 16 or so miles from Robinson. The heat was radiating but I felt good and energetic, with the neckerchief really making a difference (thanks Dan). At Dusty Corners aid station I got creative with ice on the suggestion of the vollies - down the back, bra, in the cap. I was also taking s caps every hour and forcing down the odd potato with salt and piece of banana at each aid station. I ran into Last Chance station at 43 miles in 8hrs 47, 8 mins ahead of 24 hr pace, although I wasn't checking goal splits at the time as didn't want to get too obsessed. It was pointless as to a large degree the level of shade was guiding pace. I saw lots of runners stopping to walk as they entered exposed and baking ground. Last Chance is named for its stunning views of Screwauger canyon and is also the starting point for the descent into the first major canyon, Deadwood, which comes before the notoriously steep 2 mile Devil's Thumb climb up the other side. After refuelling for what would be a 1hr 20 min 4 miles, I set off on the first real quad thrashing descent of the day. Reaching the creek in the airless depths helped with cooling down for a moment, but the grade of the climb up to DT aid station was still punishing, and sapped my strength. A guy and girl appeared behind power hiking super strong and chatting about doing the Grand Slam, so I left them pass and tried to get into a rhythm. I was incredibly thirsty all of a sudden and drained a lot of water. Murdo McEwan had told me he had a friend working the DT station above so that was nice to look forward to, and when I arrived he was brilliant fun, telling me he was related to the McKay's and moving me swiftly through the pit stop of being weighed, watered, iced and sunscreened. I can't remember if it was DT or another aid station but a some point I was told I'd lost 8 pounds and asked not for the first time if i was peeing. They said I would need to drink and eat much more in order not to be stopped by the next medical team until I gained again. </div><div><br>
</div><div>Eldorado Canyon came next, with a 5 mile downhill thought to be the best in the course, and a longer ascent than DT but gentler gradient. The descent was the hottest of the entire race, literally like running into a hairdryer, and I was wholly uncomfortable for the first time in the race. The aid station at the bottom, with its buckets of ice, was simply an oasis and respect to all the volunteers who stuck it out there for hours. I felt stronger hiking out than I had at DT though and passed a few folk, including an English man living in America wearing a tutu. It was definitely too early for hallucinations. He assured me Badwater was hotter than this and I silently swore (not for the first time either) never to consider that race. </div><div><br>
</div><div>Michigan Bluff at 55.7 miles arrived in 12.16, 4 minutes ahead of silver buckle pace (again, had no idea it was this close). The atmosphere was fantastic despite the heat there, with big groups of people sat outside their houses with picnics and beers, cheering and whooping. My weight was back up again and I stopped just for a few minutes with Dan to decide whether to get my now blistered feet patched up here. We decided on Foresthill and I grabbed a chia bar and banana and moved out fast to tackle the next and final canyon, Volcano. Tutu man and I kept swapping position until I finally passed him for good on the road climb before the descent. Once again it was baking and by the climb out and up to Bath Road my energy was dwindling. After a refill and sprite I cracked on, just 2 miles on the road to get to Foresthill and mile 62.</div><div><br>
</div><div>Running into Foresthill I felt strong and excited to meet my pacers, the Dubes, and pass the turning point into the more runnable section of the race. What can I say about the Dubes - I knew I was lucky to have them help me out when I mentioned them to a few people before the race and was met with big smiles and recognition, they are really well known and loved in the Californian running community. Plus, with 10 WS finishes between them they are extremely well versed with the WS trail and pacing.</div><div><br>
</div><div>The plan was Erik would pace me until Green Gate, then his brother Marc would take over, with Tera running with me from Highway 49 to the finish. Erik first took me to Brad Payton, who I'd run with in Auburn last weekend - he's an ex-firefighter and was on medical and foot care duties at FH. He patched me up and I gritted my teeth for the first few painful steps of running, after Dan and Tera had refuelled me and walked us out the station.</div><div><br>
</div><div>We started the famously runnable section 16 miles 'downhill' to the river, which was broken up by 3 aid stations, Cal 1, 2 and 3. I felt relatively strong and determined to prove to myself I was in good running condition for this crucial section. It was great to chat to Erik who did a thorough job of briefing me on all that was coming up. </div><div><br>
</div><div>But soon I hit a low, between Cal 2-3. With still 30 miles to go I was struggling to deal with the fact it hadn't cooled off. On hot days in Europe, it cools after sun down and you need sleeves! Here, I needed the river! It was still in the mid 80's f/30 c and I felt like I couldn't get my core body temp under control, with my head glowing and claustrophobic. The aid stations helped, and I continued with the ice rituals. I also began taking Gu Roctane caffeine gel to help my energy levels, as I couldn't eat much else.</div><div><br>
</div><div>Reaching the Rucky Chucky river crossing at mile 78 was incredible, I couldnt wait to get in. There were aid stations on both sides and a guide line manned by 20 or so volunteers in wetsuits. It was dark and head torch time by now, and the entire area was beautifully lit by glow sticks and night lights. the vollies seemed worried we'd find it hard to wade waist deep but I would have dived in if theyd let me. It was over all too soon and Erik had us moving through fast to tackle the 2 mile climb up to Green Gate, mile 80, which we reached in 18.07, 13 minutes ahead of 24 hour pace. Thank you Erik!</div><div><br>
</div><div>We couldn't find Marc at GG and it turned out there'd been a slight mix up with timings. With a quick 'come on, lets do this!' Erik got back on the trail with me. My brain was getting fuzzy though, as when a runner came up behind me I stopped to let him pass and didn't even realise it was Marc, who had arrived after all. They swapped and Erik headed back. I'd like to say I got chatting to Marc but pretty soon I was feeling sick again, and I was getting blurry, double vision as I had in the last stages of the West Highland Way race. We ran/hiked until Auburn Lake Trails, where I hit a new low, sitting down for a minute with medical volunteers asking me questions. I couldn't focus on their faces properly and didn't know what would make me feel better. They asked was I peeing? Was I eating? It didnt help my confusion that the aid station was decorated with Merry Christmas signs and lights (I'd read about its Christmas-in-June theme but forgotten about this in my fog). Marc pointed out the vision issues were probably due to glycogen depletion, perhaps the onset of hypoglycemia, and he was totally right. I had another caffeine gel, a few bites of quesadilla and some coke and we set off again for the 4.7 miles to Brown's Bar. I don't have much memory of this section but I ran when I could, taking a few minutes walk here and there. Brown's Bar was even wilder than Auburn Lake Trails and is known for its parties, beer and loud music. We heard it a mile before we saw it and didn't stop long, just a quick refill, coke and out. I will need to get back there one day to join the party!</div><div><br>
</div><div>I was surprised to discover we were still on 24 hour target en route to Highway 49, at mile 93.5, in fact 15 or so minutes ahead of plan. 6.7 miles sounds so close now, but I still wasn't convinced I would make it. I never considered DNF'ing but the soles and sides of both feet were becoming agony with every step, I could feel large, new blisters and the loose stones on the descents were torturous.</div><div><br>
</div><div>At Highway 49 Tera couldn't be there so Erik swapped with Marc to run with me again to the finish. There was a climb then a few miles of trail I'd run previously with Rick, but it was so different in the dark. Erik tried to make me take another gel and I should have, to give me energy for the Robie climb, but I couldnt. The miles up to No Hands Bridge were just gritting my feet against the foot pain, but when we reached the bridge it was so beautiful, lit up with fairy lights. We had an hour or so to make it up the steep climb up Robie point and another mile and a bit on road, including a steep climb. I felt like even in training the Robie climb had taken a while and I had zero energy for it. But it turned out shorter than I remember at around 20 minutes, leaving a safety net to get to the track. People say its all downhill from Robie and the top of the road climb into the High School, but it all seemed uphill to me! </div><div><br>
</div><div>Marc joined us and then all of a sudden I was on the Placer High track, with 300 metres to go. I crossed in 23 hrs 39 mins. It was brilliant to see everyone on the other side, but nothing sunk in. I needed to get my feet seen to and predictably, as in the West Highland Way, as soon as I sat down in the podiatry tent, I felt sick and ready to pass out. They switched me to the medical tent, in between people on IV's, and took my blood pressure which was low but not too low. You'll be glad to know we didn't get any photos of the feet, but they were certainly a picture.</div><div><br>
</div><div>I performed some dry heaving following by some real sickness later on and after a while I passed out for 2 hours on the cot Dan had set up for me in the camping area, awoken by the blazing 90 f sun and no shade. I heard the announcer shout out for fellow Brit and Team Buff UK athlete Stuart Blofeld and then Ultra 168's Marcus Warner coming into finish. It was great to hear Stuart finish, he'd passed me early on in a blaze of cheering and positivity, and had struggled with foot problems in the last miles. I was amazed at the strength and dedication of the runners coming in later and later, having to run into a second day of roasting heat. Sunday was hotter still, at 107 f in Auburn, and sitting out with hundreds of others the award ceremony would prove to be an endurance challenge in itself.</div><div><br>
</div><div>When Erik told me I had finished 17th female I was surprised, I thought I had drifted into the 20's or 30's. He also filled me in on the top performances, an incredible run by Tim Olsen of 15.17, showing he could win in the second hottest year ever as well as a freak cool year, and an equally amazing run by Pam Smith of 18.37 who just last year had finished in 28 hours - a PB by 10 hours!</div><div><br>
</div><div>The Western States further confirmed one thing. Completing races like this isn't just about running long; they introduce me to inspirational new people, help me see special places, build mental fortitude for other areas of life - and generally make me one very happy girl. I also think that when you are pushing so hard that you need encouragement (from crew/pacers) with the very basic of human needs - water, sustenance, movement - this fosters a lot of goodwill and connections to other people, which for a sport that is essentially very solitary is quite amazing.</div><div><br>
</div><div>Thank you so much to my wonderful crew and pacers as well as the hundreds of volunteers and organisers involved, who played such a huge role in getting me to the finish line in sub 24 without blowing up. Thank you also to all my lovely friends and family at home who followed and supported so closely from afar, as well as Buff UK, Likeys and ultra-runner.com for their sponsorship of my kit.</div><div><br>
</div><div>You'll all be glad to know my peeing is back to normal, and my feet are definitely on the mend. I have vowed to take care of my body through R & R until getting home and back into training for the next ultra, the Devil O' the Highlands. I'm also keen to work out where the bad blister problems originated from, as in other races this year I've managed to avoid them and I am certain I could have run faster in the last 20 miles if wasn't for this. Perhaps just the extent of the heat or perhaps I need to start taping my feet before long races. </div><div><br>
</div><div>Another post coming soon with more photographic evidence :-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-t_SlhQHIECNweDqPeKwbjJAzkopfuhgku7rT66_uHQPZIngJw6qMB3d8ulonCgZpuP8oE6DJn8JSYtprwt5TfYJXElNFeIa1E1SsXVr7jNWxX9dWFxmMfEu-Jxm63uposz76KmWlN_8/s640/blogger-image-1756495172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-t_SlhQHIECNweDqPeKwbjJAzkopfuhgku7rT66_uHQPZIngJw6qMB3d8ulonCgZpuP8oE6DJn8JSYtprwt5TfYJXElNFeIa1E1SsXVr7jNWxX9dWFxmMfEu-Jxm63uposz76KmWlN_8/s640/blogger-image-1756495172.jpg"></a></div>Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-57034879410610145722013-06-23T21:35:00.001-07:002013-06-23T21:38:13.371-07:00Final Thoughts & Sunshine KitI get up, sit in the sun, think about the impending race, run on the trail, think more about the race, walk on the trail, rest and repeat...don't get me wrong, I am loving this schedule but it's like groundhog day waiting for the Western States. <br />
<br />
Northern California is one of the most incredible places I've visited. It has it all: high country and mountain ranges, stunning Pacific coastline, blue as blue skies, wildlife, pine-scented trails, fresh local produce. It is a joy to have some relaxed time out here ahead of Saturday. <br />
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I've been out on 3 trail runs along the WS course so far, covering c40 miles total and around 30 of the course, including the Michigan Bluff to Foresthill area and Green Gate to the finish in Auburn, mostly during midday to late afternoon when the day is at its hottest. Temps have reached early 90's Fahrenheit with a cool 70 today and even a rain shower. The heat is hard on the sections with no cover, making steady, conserved running and drinking all the more important. I've been fortunate to have some local runners show me around, and we also covered the last canyon of the course, Volcano Canyon, after Michigan Bluff. The canyons are different to how I imagined (i.e. not smaller versions of the Grand Canyon!). They have more tree cover with the Volcano climbs and descent being partly on a road. <br />
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Tomorrow I drive over the state line to Nevada to stay with my crew Dan and do some easy hiking and a recce drive from the Squaw Valley end (just an hour away from Reno). <br />
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The race starts on 5am Saturday (1pm UK time) and I can be tracked through www.ultralive.net/ws100 using name or bib number 83. Think it will really help with motivation knowing this tracking system is in place. <br />
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I've also made final decisions on kit after trail testing. So the sunshine kit will be:<br />
*Men's Brooks Cascadia in yet a half size bigger than normal. Needed for my boat feet after heat swelling, and so comfy!<br />
* Injinji Run OW socks, tried and v trusted <br />
* A couple of Buffs to alternate, for the chilly Squaw start and then for much-needed creek-dousing<br />
*UltrAspire Kinetic double bottle pack: no bounce, light but with two large 26 ounce bottles. Thanks to ultra-runner.com.<br />
*Accessories: sun cream by the bucket load, Sudo cream and Tiger balm. Oh and a really bad tan line which starts at the ankle, heads to the upper arm and is completed by some bizarre looking arm patches from long window-down highway journeys. <br />
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Huge congratulations to everyone who ran the West Highland Way Race yesterday, it's been inspirational following you all.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<b>Hills of Edinburgh</b><br />
First weekend back into it was actually a sneaky getaway in Paris, which featured a few leisurely runs around Luxemburg Gardens to test the ankle - in which I was regularly overtaken by groups of fit-looking pensioners - but training that was not. I got back with the programme in Edinburgh a few days later with some hill repeats, specifically a couple of predictably-painful sessions from the lawns of Holyrood Palace up the steepest paths to the top of Arthur's Seat to trash the quads running back down - repetitive but effective. I then ran another 7 Hills of Edinburgh route where I managed to go off piste and get lost in some residential streets, after running that same route, hmm 10 times? Note to self to <b>stay present</b> in all training runs and particularly races. Towards the end of these sessions, which lasted not longer than 3 hours, the foot had started to complain - but thankfully now 4 weeks later I've had no more pain at all.<br />
<br />
<b>West Highland Way</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loch Lomond from the top of Conic Hill - stunning day</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saturday spent in the bluebells :-)</td></tr>
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The late May bank holiday weekend offered an excellent opportunity for my longest back-to-back effort, which I really felt I needed both mentally and physically for the Western States, after not feeling my back-to-backs for the West Highland Way last year were specific enough. It was great to be joined by a few folk for the two day run - Fionna, David, Lorna and Bob, then Noanie and Kirsty for the second day. We ran 72 miles in total over the weekend, starting in Milngavie on Saturday and running to Beinglas in what felt like blistering heat (but was probably 20 degrees...), a bonus for the heat training but not so good in terms of picking up some comedy sunburn. Least they'll be able to spot the Scot at the States. I was pretty tired from a bad night's sleep the night before but on the whole the day went great, helped along considerably by regular coke and crisps breaks in our need for salt and sugar. Yes, the wholefoods, low carb training fuel plan went out the <br />
window in the heat - but again this was a great learning experience for the WS. Salty snacks will be king. After Inversnaid we were all getting a bit fatigued and looking forward to finishing - Fionna had kindly parked at the Drovers Inn to ferry us back to Tyndrum after, but few miles short of Beinglas I fell flat on my face on one of the wooden board walks and split my knee. After a quick dip in a burn to clean it up we kept moving and picked up the pace to arrive at the Drovers for some much-needed food...a recurring theme of the weekend.<br />
<br />
Sunday we ran 30 miles from Tyndrum to Ba Bridge on Rannoch Moor and back, rather than running to Fort William, which I felt would be overkill in terms of mileage. I was tired and a bit irritated with my knee, which was slightly messy. But after dressing it up we got underway and after 5km or so got into the stride. Then water from the bladder of my UltrAspire pack started pouring down my back and I had this mechanical for about half an hour before I decided to ditch the water completely. Partly my fault for forgetting the correct fastening for it but I couldn't be doing with the leakage so managed by refilling a bottle of water from the Bridge of Orchy Hotel for the reat of the day. For WS I will definitely be using a double bottle pack.<br />
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Running in a group kept things lively and resulted in a
faster pace than I'd have run alone, hills in particular! There weren't many over the entire weekend that we didn't
run, including the one just after Bridge of Orchy, Murdo's Mount. Trying to keep
up with hill running demons Bob and Fionna was brilliant and fair
enough I might not be running <i>those</i> steep canyons in the actual
race but I could literally feel the benefits of conditioning afterwards, despite the fact my legs remained pretty trashed running up any incline for over a
week. The sun also shone beautifully all day on Saturday and the West Highland Way was just spectactular, alive with bluebells and birds (mainly spotted by Lorna!)<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Glenshee and the Cateran Trail</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the summit of Mount Blair</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The heathered legs look - staying away from dresses for now</td></tr>
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The weekend after I stayed with friends up in Glenshee, Highland Perthshire, in a cosy little yurt on an ecocamp farm. I wanted to get a last, shorter back-to-back in to continue with my leg trashing mission before the taper. Fionna kindly drove up to be my partner in crime again (and make me run more hills). On Saturday I'd hoped for about 25 hilly miles but it ended up just 16. A lesson learnt that its not all about mileage but running off feel sometimes - and I felt absolutely exhausted. Legs had nothing left to give. Hard efforts from the weekend before combined with a VO2max re-test during the week which saw me running to exhaustion on the treadmill had just about finished me off. <b> </b>Still, we headed up Mount Blair right opposite the campsite, one of the largest non-Munros in the area, and ran most of the hill before a fast-hike to summit. We ran down the other side and back up to the summit again before picking up the path back down the same way towards the camp. No longer were the words 'This is a fantastic path to run' were out of my mouth than I was faceplanting into the dirt and cracked the same knee wound open once again, this time complete with a heap fo dirt inside the wound. Yuck. I took poor Fionna down behind me too, who also had a bit of a scrape. After a quick clean up we decided to head straight back to camp to sort it properly before heading to the Cateran Trail as planned. Soon we realised the path we'd taken was not the same route we'd ascended with and next followed a half-hour skin-scratching hike through knee deep heather, finding ourselves completely disorientated before ending up in a farming field, too near to cows for comfort but back near where we started out. Phew - maps next time then!<br />
<b></b><br />
Later on with knee strapped up we bagged another 10 or so miles on the nearby Cateran Trail, heading backwards along the race route from the Spittal to tackle the long hill. I had even less energy and power than the morning and it was bloody hard work. A total of 16 miles that took 3.5 hours, but a good, tough-it-out adventure, and great to run on the Cateran Trail at last.<br />
<b><br /></b>
The last few weeks have felt like treading a very fine line between training at my peak to make sure I am ready to run 100 miles but without getting injured, overtrained or too fatigued - an interesting learning curve in what I can push to in terms of weekly training.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvNnyIYmVGlv3IhgjuK-pgkpJ3IyvbPyjq5U823bHwkX7wb0ncSU47C1uJS4iaRh1893tB-D9ra3KIBjy4niZqaE7E82Ufgx7mofAOKzgR3Lv4sxm1X9uNq9_KQK-1yH34K7J5UYdO40/s1600/BUFF+full+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvNnyIYmVGlv3IhgjuK-pgkpJ3IyvbPyjq5U823bHwkX7wb0ncSU47C1uJS4iaRh1893tB-D9ra3KIBjy4niZqaE7E82Ufgx7mofAOKzgR3Lv4sxm1X9uNq9_KQK-1yH34K7J5UYdO40/s200/BUFF+full+logo.jpg" width="200" /></a>So the taper begins at the end of next week, after two final long sessions in the heat chamber, and between now and 19th I'll be on a manic mission to sort out the rest of the logistics for the trip, the race and the 10 days after that I'll be in Chicago and New York for work. Lets just hope I can still walk when I have to go into meetings!<br />
<b><br /></b>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FTHGtftYTB35Kq912CNrzEvSoSQiOklBEoEXXV-pSXOufKH1BdL1P5fyUgE8eqImv7vfUeJerH2F6ThgOPeAaHo3wxNtA7_yZS_Ezuj7nM9J0XijHNhUjujlaH04OdMvqLjng0cQN9A/s1600/Likeys+Logo+Small-1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FTHGtftYTB35Kq912CNrzEvSoSQiOklBEoEXXV-pSXOufKH1BdL1P5fyUgE8eqImv7vfUeJerH2F6ThgOPeAaHo3wxNtA7_yZS_Ezuj7nM9J0XijHNhUjujlaH04OdMvqLjng0cQN9A/s1600/Likeys+Logo+Small-1.gif" /></a>A final huge thank you to <b><a href="http://www.likeys.com/">Likeys</a></b> for sponsoring some of my sunshine kit for the States, and also to <b><a href="http://www.buffwear.co.uk/">Buff UK</a></b>, who have provided some clothing and a fabulous selection of Buffs for my year of racing. I will be excitedly greeting Mr Postie this week :-)<b> </b><br />
<br />
<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-36204546128328740622013-04-28T12:57:00.003-07:002013-04-28T13:30:57.144-07:00A Fling with FriendsIn a bid to write up a race experience whilst still fresh in my mind, here is my account of the 2013 Hoka Highand Fling. A 53 mile ultra along the southern half of the West Highland Way trail, from Milngavie in Glasgow up to Tyndrum in Stirlingshire, the Highland Fling has grown into one of the UK's largest ultras, with nearly 600 starters this year. Competition was heightened due to the race again being the UK and Scottish Trail Championships, and it was nice to see a<b> <a href="http://www.irunfar.com/2013/04/2013-highland-fling-preview.html">preview article </a></b>last week on US site iRunFar. This was my third Fling, and a brilliant experince in many ways, though it has left a bit of a colourful reminder on my body.<br />
<br />
<b>Pre-race prep</b><br />
It was less than ideal due to same affliction I had pre-West Highland Way Race, an inability to sleep! I had a late night and bad sleep on Thursday, then an even worse night in Glasgow on Friday - when the alarm went off at 4am I felt like I hadn't slept at all. So on Saturday morning stress levels, tiredness and adrenaline were already taking over, making me wonder if I could put in a good race.<br />
<br />
<b>The Start</b><br />
After a struggle of a breakfast I left for Milngavie and the easiest registration ever - "pop this timing chip round your ankle" - and caught up with some folk. 6am swung around soon enough and we were off. I didn't feel great and right from the get go my stomach felt sensitive - I've never really suffered from sickness or stomach problems during races so I put it down to lack of sleep and nerves. So I took it steady, following the rough plan to ease into the race and reach the first checkpoint - Drymen,12 miles - conservatively.<br />
<br />
<b>Drymen - Balmaha</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First view of Loch Lomond</td></tr>
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After running with Bob Steel for a wee while, I ran through Drymen in 1:45. Here the route had been diverted due to forestry work so it was a novelty to head left through the village and up a long gentle incline to meet the forestry track. From here, we had our first glimpse of Loch Lomond, which was sparkling against a deep blue sky - just beautiful. It felt very cool as well, with just a light wind - idyllic running weather. The climb up Conic was another novelty, I hadn't been there since the path improvements had been finished, and the steep decsent was more runnable. I was surprised by the sheer number of guys <i>running</i>
past me up the hill, breathing heavily, and made a mental note to check
whether I saw them again later down the trail - sure enough I did. <br />
<br />
<b>Balmaha -Rowardennan</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSt723UiHWMFarVxlCUjMzrqqO6CvX5qHKLQreASa3gHbvDzNK-copjISKtS1I_MTSMUjkQtfzdTs5VL8xtF09ix5axrC9jfIlnQ7V3zNPrQpGHYbQgCIUMyHEKQmou3lFiRE2RJMmbCU/s1600/Highland+Fling+x+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSt723UiHWMFarVxlCUjMzrqqO6CvX5qHKLQreASa3gHbvDzNK-copjISKtS1I_MTSMUjkQtfzdTs5VL8xtF09ix5axrC9jfIlnQ7V3zNPrQpGHYbQgCIUMyHEKQmou3lFiRE2RJMmbCU/s320/Highland+Fling+x+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the summit of Conic Hill</td></tr>
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After the descent came Balmaha at 19.8 miles, which I reached in around 3 hours, 15 minutes ahead of schedule. Largely uneventful bar a bit of a faff with the UltrAspire hydration pack - normally easy to refill unless in a total rush - I passed through in a few minutes, taking a bit of food with me en route and stopping for a quick hello with friend Andy Cole and his mates who were supporting Jonny Muir.<br />
<br />
The stretch to Rowardennan is the leg which I've probably run the most in training, and it's pretty runnable. I was relieved to feel my stomach had calmed down and I'd settled into my own race. As well as basking in the fact we didn't have to deal with clouds of evil midges on this stretch as we did during the WHW Race last year. Fionna Cameron popped up behind me in this section and we ran into Rowardennan together. I didn't plan to fuel much here so pretty much headed straight through, and we ran/hiked the rolling hills that come next. Knowing well what to expect, I now welcome this part of the race after struggling the first year I ran it. Think I felt alright here but was keen to keep to a steady pace and run my own race above all, so didn't try and keep up with Fionna as the miles went on. She was looking incredibly strong, and went on to finish in second female position - just 30 seconds off Tracy Dean.<br />
<br />
The miles seemed to be melting away and I kept focus on my form. Bob Steel and I were still leap frogging and he kept me good company for a quite a while throughout these mid sections.<br />
<br />
<b>Inversnaid - Beinglas </b><br />
I love the Inversnaid checkpoint for memories of being on the Inversnaid nature reserve when I worked for RSPB, and of friends who've met me there in the past races. My split was around 5:42 for Inversnaid and I'd planned on 6 hours so re-calculated my aim to get to Beinglas shortly after 1pm, to give me a safe amount of time to comfortably reach Tyndrum by 9:45. Once again the marshalls at Inversnaid were amazing, delivering drop bags to us within seconds and taking control of the troublesome refills. I grabbed a few bites and pocketed the rest to eat en route. Next came the tricky lochside section, which I tried to welcome. Then out of the blue came quite a heavy shower - and I experienced something Bob and I had just been talking about re his upcoming Transvulcania race, the suncream in the eyes situation. It stung like hell for a wee while but cleared soon enough. It was fairly muddy and slippy around the big scrambly rocks but the section felt so much more achievable than before - you just can't expect to run it all. Then we bumped into The Aussie Dude Keith Hughes - a fantastic boost. He'd set out with friends at midnight to walk the Fling route, and after all our lunchtime runs together I knew he'd be somewhere between Inversnaid and Beinglas.<br />
<br />
I can't remember exactly where it happened but at some point through this mid section I decided to miss the bottom step of a stile and landed too hard on my left foot. After rolling it several times recently in training it was weakened and I felt a pain up the side. However, after being able to shake the ankle rolls off before I hoped this would be the same. But approaching Beinglas it was hurting with every step. Not terrible pain but just a dull, constant ache in the same place.<br />
<br />
<b>Beinglas - Tyndrum</b><br />
I ran into the checkpoint at 7:12 (1:12pm) and wanted to pass through in two minutes. I'd been drinking a lot but was super thirsty so filled the pack up again, downed half a coke and headed out, with a friendly relay runner from Harmeny and a few guys for company. Normally I don't need to pee at all during races (probably not healthy, I know) but by this point for the second time I was frantically searching for a bush and at last found one, which involved climbing another hill back to the trail. My left ankle was still throbbing with each step I took but I instinctively reckoned it would manage a steady jog to the finish. Smaller footsteps and focusing on form helped, as did keeping occupied through chatting to others.<br />
<br />
Again, the miles passed quickly and soon enough we were at coo poo corner. As ever the ascents felt punishing and the coo poo even more so, but it's only a couple of miles and we reached the Crianlarich hills in no time. But this time I was glad to see the hills as the foot hurt less when walking, and it was a chance to take on a few calories as the stomach was now grumbling incessantly. The forest was shaded and cool, a welcome reprieve from the open areas of the track.<br />
<br />
I was re-calculating my target regularly, reckoning if I could get down the hill and to the A82 crossing to Auchtertyre by 9 hours I'd have a chance of running 9:30 or thereabouts. On hitting the road the foot was much more painful though, tarmac was not my friend. The trail after Auchtertyre was softer and it was here Bob appeared behind me again, running really strong. I lost my patience with hiking the wee hills and decided just to crack on and run the last miles as fast as I could. Soon enough I was met by the reassuring sounds of the piper and the finish signs - it had been re-routed from the usual place and was now situated up to the left. I crossed the line in 9:36 (although was told it was 9:34!), totally delighted to take exactly one hour from my PB, which I ran in 2011.<br />
<br />
The porta-showers at the finish were a nice touch and it was amazing to get clean and warm up - though on trying to walk after cooling off I realised the foot was extremely painful and as I feared, a purple bruise was spreading along the side. Instantly worring about Western States in 9 weeks, I saw Adrian then Sean, who was manning the medical tent, who were both so helpful. Sean sat me down with an ice pack and I vetoed the original plan of staying with Matt Moroz & friends in the hobbit hole in favour of getting back to Edinburgh.<br />
<br />
First came the prize giving, featuring these fast men & ladies:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydcFIY5EPXfJoPa-6S6ugOOHGw96nw9ZB6MZHkf2LQLMBbOrfTQfFnEdlFdT-tlH-QkLiCysFA3L7gfBLaVekbJ8_Erczvun3VuQACXyXYBVfywy1Yp4uoedwXGxpjL04-zu9QhjwTDc/s1600/Highland+Fling+x+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydcFIY5EPXfJoPa-6S6ugOOHGw96nw9ZB6MZHkf2LQLMBbOrfTQfFnEdlFdT-tlH-QkLiCysFA3L7gfBLaVekbJ8_Erczvun3VuQACXyXYBVfywy1Yp4uoedwXGxpjL04-zu9QhjwTDc/s320/Highland+Fling+x+5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scottish Trail Championships presentation</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
1st male - Lee Kemp, 7:02 (new course record)<br />
2nd male - Ricky Lightfoot, 7:09 (also breaking course record)<br />
3rd male - Matt Williamson, 7:21<br />
<br />
1st female - Tracy Dean, 9:12<br />
2nd female - Fionna Cameron, 9:13<br />
3rd female - Sandra Bowers, 9:17<br />
<br />
There were also presentations for the UK and Scottish Trail Championship and I was over the moon to find I was third Scottish female over the line, after Fionna and Sandra. The full results can be <b><a href="http://www.zen31010.zen.co.uk/highlandflingrace/FlingGunChipResult.xls">viewed here.</a></b><br />
<br />
<b>Race Day Nutrition</b><br />
For those interested, following recent metabolic testing and experiments into low carb, my nutrition for the day looked like this:<br />
<ul>
<li>Oats and natural yoghurt for breakfast with strong black coffee with a bottle of water</li>
<li>After Drymen - 1 x 9bar</li>
<li>Balmaha - 1 x smoothie (yoghurt, milk, nut butter, berries, protein powder) and banana</li>
<li>Rowardennan - 1 x Build protein bar</li>
<li>Inversnaid - 1 x potato scone with nut butter and 1 x small smoothie</li>
<li>Beinglas - 2 x potato scone with nut butter and 1 x small bottle coke, few pieces of fudge (half of all this eaten en route to Tyndrum)</li>
<li>Post-race nutrition was terrible due to lack of time to get anything proper before lift back to Edinburgh, but John Duncan's Mum's delicious soup saved me. So soup, roll, few oatcakes and beer were the post-race meal :-)</li>
</ul>
<b>Learnings</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Running the Fling whilst knowing more about how my metabolism works - with all the data/findings from recent metabolic testing in my mind - made a huge difference. I knew I didn't have to re-fuel as much as I've thought I had to in previous races, which gave me a confidence boost throughout.</li>
<li>Discplined pacing is so important - something I've known for a while and haven't quite been able to put into practice in racing - and I felt that knowledge click into place in this Fling.</li>
<li>Running a race several times before (or training lots on the actual route) is invaluable in helping you to know what to expect; when you can push and when you should run conservatively. When you are 'welcoming' a hill, it doesn't seem as tough to me - almost an enjoyable break.</li>
<li>I need to learn to chill before races. Maybe I should start meditating.</li>
<li>Don't get ahead of yourself in trying to bypass the steps on stiles.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNdkq3ADxYa8stBBsTlFUj0kG1ZGcyuRS_SiJl_JW5dvvHI7uQJLBjDRRXvBK2FHwuzLcgrpspuF9zHY7VUK8XBjGrzxtqJIYuo28Iyn1e4WMz9nhrtjetUWOUcNvb6S5GpdVU4Uk1WTw/s1600/Highland+Fling++Foot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNdkq3ADxYa8stBBsTlFUj0kG1ZGcyuRS_SiJl_JW5dvvHI7uQJLBjDRRXvBK2FHwuzLcgrpspuF9zHY7VUK8XBjGrzxtqJIYuo28Iyn1e4WMz9nhrtjetUWOUcNvb6S5GpdVU4Uk1WTw/s200/Highland+Fling++Foot.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The foot, one day on</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Thankfully the doctor thinks the ankle, despite some impressive bruising, is just soft tissue damage and should heal up in a couple of weeks. I am taking it very easy this week and will see how it goes, hoping to get back to Western States training by the end of next week.<br />
<br />
John Duncan and his 80-strong team put on a truly incredible race, with happy, helpful marshalls in all the places we needed them, and a slick new finish area. The Fling is probably the best value for money race I've ever run - and hope to keep running :-) Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-46317729864825902242013-04-09T12:59:00.000-07:002013-04-09T13:03:36.505-07:00Quest to become a metabolically efficient fat burning machine!Not being at all a 'techie', I was slightly apprehensive when lovely researcher Lesley, who manages the Napier Uni climatic training chamber I've been using, suggested that in addition to my heat training programme, I take metabolic efficiency tests, including VO2max, in Feb and May to help monitor training.<br />
<br />
Metabolic efficiency is basically used to describe the use of
oxygen relative to a physical effort. From a nutrition
perspective, being metabolically efficient means being able to burn more fat and conserve limited carbohydrate stores. The skinny on VO2max - which embarrasingly I didn't know too much about, apart from the fact Kilian Jornet has a ridiculously high one - is that it's an important measure in performance capability in middle to long distance running. It is the highest rate at which oxygen is taken up and used during exercise, with the volume expressed relative to body weight.<br />
<br />
The results of the first test would aim to inform and aid my training
plan, for example by suggesting heart rates to train in for different
sessions, therefore improving my aerobic base. The second would aim to
demonstrate any improvement in my aerobic capacity (hopefully!). The
real aim of improving aerobic base is to improve ability to perform
maximally during my races, and help me recover quicker.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>So in the session Lesley tested a variety of things to determine my efficiency:</b></div>
<br />
<b>1. Resting Metabolic Rate</b><br />
She took an initial assessment of baseline info such as body mass, weight, blood pressure and heart rate which would be used to monitor any changes that occur with my training. For this I had to abstain from food for 4hrs beforehand - probably good for the weight measurement! I had to lie for 10 minutes resting in a supine position - again difficult as I'm a massive fidget - after which Lesley recorded data for 10 minutes.<br />
<br />
<b>My Results </b><br />
Resting Heart Rate of <b>39</b><br />
Resting Blood Pressure of <b>105/69</b><br />
Daily Resting Energy Expenditure of <b>1988</b><br />
<br />
<b>2. Ramp Aerobic Power Test (VO2max)</b><br />
The treadmill test - eek! This is descibed to me as '<i>a multi-stage incremental test to determine peak heart rate and VO2 responses to a range of running speeds, until volitional exhaustion'</i>. All I could think of was the footage of Sir Chris Hoy after the Olympics talking about his training to exhaustion which was usually accompanied by throwing up next to the bike. Not that I am comparing myself to Chris Hoy.<br />
<br />
The test would consist of running at a certain pace for 3 minute blocks before moving up to the next speed with no recovery in between, until I could no longer run. So Lesley started me out on the treadmill, hooked up to an oxygen mask and heart rate monitor to record everything, at 11km per hour. This was ok, my steady/recovery gym treadmill pace in interval sessions. She then increased by 1km per hour every 3 minutes with gradient set at 1%. By the end of the 13km per hr block I was working hard. By the end of 14km per hour I was wondering what would happen if I fell off the treadmill and ripped the mask connections out the computer. By 15km per hour I knew that this would be my last 3 minute block, but as Lesley had pointed out before that you have a better test and higher score if you try your best to reach the end of a certain block, I tried hard to do so and just made it. So 15 minutes in all and to the end of the 15km per hour block.<br />
<br />
During this my running economy (RE) was also measured. This is a measurement of how efficiently you use oxygen at a given running pace. Improving RE means you are using a smaller amount of oxygen to run at a given speed (i.e. using a lower % of VO2max at any given pace).<br />
<br />
<b>My Results</b><br />
VO2max: 52.1<br />
Peak Heart Rate (bpm): 168<br />
RE at 12km per hr: 201<br />
VO2 at 12km per hr: 40.2<br />
RE at 15km per hr: 208<br />
VO2 at 15km per hr: 52.1<br />
Total time of test: 15:00<br />
<br />
Lesley told me a 2008 research study reported a VO2 max of 49.1 in a group of female ultra runners (mixed abilities) so I was pleased to be higher than this but obviously this can be very much improved on. For info, here are the VO2max scores across a range of other sports:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZi8l_RcOtQ9DnqH5h-W4Q-gRzEKKfkYbhH8zy7y0N3wxr8WfvM8vx9L1tVvWw_ZfBQEoAMl0eOJHo8a8w9-wG2x29w5ildDKpdjzQooxRhEPUP9VXAoB3zVeb8tq48Qrx610b4-hNELY/s1600/vo2max_athletes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZi8l_RcOtQ9DnqH5h-W4Q-gRzEKKfkYbhH8zy7y0N3wxr8WfvM8vx9L1tVvWw_ZfBQEoAMl0eOJHo8a8w9-wG2x29w5ildDKpdjzQooxRhEPUP9VXAoB3zVeb8tq48Qrx610b4-hNELY/s640/vo2max_athletes.jpg" width="402" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>My best Running Economy (RE) </b>score occurred at 12km per hr, which is my PB marathon pace (3hrs 26 mins). So my aim should really be to increase towards this running pace in all my longer events. Hmm not sure about the Western States though!<br />
<br />
Lesley is also hoping to see my heart rate lower throughout training and before June, again indicating I becoming more efficient and not having to work as hard at the various workloads. She has given me some specific heart rates to train in for the next few months to help this.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Living the Low Carb Lifestyle</b><br />
I think pretty much any and every runner exposed to the media/Internet in recent months will be aware of the craze sweeping the world for paleo and low carb diets and lifestyles and I've been reading and listening to a heap of sources which have focused on the benefits of these dietary approaches for long distance running. So I don't want to bang on about it too much as quite frankly I'm not an expert - but the whole concept of this dietary change is closely related to metabolic efficiency.<br />
<br />
The aim for the runner of adopting such a nutritional approach is to train the body to burn more fat when running. Unless trained through diet or perhaps fasted training, typically a runner will burn more carbohydrates than fat unless running VERY slow and the idea is to encourage the body to tap into the huge store of fat and at higher speeds. The experts say that any person, no matter if they have low body fat to begin with, has a store of <b>30,000 - 40,000</b> calories in fat, but only <b>2,000</b> calories of carbohydrate, which is stored as glycogen in the muscles and liver, and fat is a much more efficient macronutrient for the body to use in the first place. Saying all that, the body doesn't just ever use one or the other, it uses a combination, but if trained through diet or many years of endurance sports, it can end up using much more fat that carbs at a whole host of speeds.<br />
<br />
After immersing myself in all of this for months I agree to some degree with a recent interview comment by Matt Fitzgerald (author of Racing Weight), saying he doesn't know many elite athletes who are religiously following paleo - as their (mostly) squeaky clean diets are already very low in refined carbohydrates, high in wholefoods, fruits and vegetables and most importantly, very controlled in volume.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A recent sushi fest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But saying this, after personally experimenting with eating lower carb and higher 'good' fats - I'm talking olive and cold pressed oils, nut butters, olives, nuts and seeds, yoghurt, coconut etc - I have truly seen a difference in my energy levels in terms of escaping the peak/trough of a high carb diet, which I think can essentially encourage you to eat more than you need. It can take quite a bit of planning ahead (chia muffins are sometimes not on my to do list late on a Friday night after work and before a long back to back at the weekend) but when I've been disciplined about low carb fuelling I have really noticed a difference in energy and performance when out there training for hours.<br />
<br />
And in any case there are a LOT of other benefits to this type of eating, not least lowering the body's insulin dependency and long-term risk factors for a number of diseases prevalent in the western world.<br />
<br />
When trying to improve in ultra running, indulging in that old sea of yellow carbs is just not worth it.<br />
<br />
<b>My Fat Oxidisation and RER Test</b><br />
So, connected to the above, Lesley also tested how my body currently burns fat by doing an RER test. This is the <b>Respiratory Exchange Ratio</b> response to the incremental tests on the treadmill. RER shows the body's use
of carbohydrate or fat as the main fuel source. When resting levels
of RER equal 0.7 this indicates fat metabolism is happening and whilst when RER values
are greater than 1 this indicates a switch to carbohydrate as the main fuel source. <br />
<br />
In my test, my RER reached 1 at <b>15km per hour</b>, which amazingly showed that for all speeds under 15km per hour (i.e. obviously ALL of my training!) my metabolism is using predominantly fat already, and only switches to using carbs as the main fuel source at 15km per hr. This made me feel slighly foolish for having focused on paleo/low carb for training purposes for so long (despite the fact I feel its a super healthy diet anyway) as my body is already doing what I have been trying to train it to do. Lesley reckoned this would be largely as a result of 4 or 5 years of running, duathlon etc.<br />
<br />
So I would seriously recommend getting metabolic testing if you are interested in this type of stuff, I found the whole process completely enlightening. <b><a href="http://www.napier.ac.uk/fhlss/SLSSS/Staff/Pages/Lesley-Ingram.aspx">Check out Napier University if so.</a></b><br />
<br />
Slightly nervous about the May VO2max re-test already - no pressure to improve after all this talk of training plans and improvement!<br />
<br />Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-11796541205657392142013-04-04T14:41:00.002-07:002013-04-04T14:43:34.933-07:00Ultrarunning World Article: Western States Training Diary<div style="text-align: left;">
Our Scottish weather may be taking some time to catch up, but spring is officially here! And with the change in clocks comes a three month countdown until the biggie. My March training has been all about heat and hills - <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://ultrarunningworld.co.uk/california-calling-spring-training-diary-heat-and-hills/">here is the latest training diary</a></span></b> </span>I've written for <b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://ultrarunningworld.co.uk/">ultrarunningworld.co.uk</a></span></b>. </div>
Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-59604105094209274442013-03-15T05:56:00.000-07:002013-03-15T05:56:19.792-07:00Week in Review...<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWs6IBc8InDczUHhnq72xdFAHyzG9eFSq2k4WSDkyBr3UYKCm8O3I1ZvqWzc3qOoMsB3NrDlVFjO99p6oFh_32-3EaTj1RRovngeLWUFsLLW0GUGpQHH0Jh0EQdwxGSbQz12GtcNnPI8/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWs6IBc8InDczUHhnq72xdFAHyzG9eFSq2k4WSDkyBr3UYKCm8O3I1ZvqWzc3qOoMsB3NrDlVFjO99p6oFh_32-3EaTj1RRovngeLWUFsLLW0GUGpQHH0Jh0EQdwxGSbQz12GtcNnPI8/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning on Calton</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<strong><u>Sickness and Snow</u></strong><br />
It's been a strange week - sickness, snow, stress at work. Last weekend I wasn't capable of training at all after developing some kind of noro virus like lurgy. I had to cancel my first heat training session at Napier (it wouldn't have been pretty) then a group run in the Pentlands. <br />
<br />
This week I'm relieved to be back on track, and managed 3 days of hilly morning and afternoon runs, albeit plodding pretty slowly. Its official, I'm obsessed with running up Calton Hill as the sun rises and sets.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The treads</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZjfMPIpQXQuxVB0PiXnCb613eaSfE89O35Q5YmydvWuxnOB7r7Mwlf8eerDa1escG8sKtSsUT-7RvLG0p0c4jJwddgnoMScOKq_BUUi-GGr94awDkiVIOqXkyOh9EWVkA0N6BoV5Ya7E/s1600/norraspikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>After the first day of snowfall, running on the soft powder was so much fun, using the snow treads my friend Andy Cole gave me - they are amazing, once you get over breaking your fingernails trying to stretch them round your trainers. Basically snow tyres for feet. Once the snow began to melt into a slush they just ended up cutting through and clicking down hard on the pavement though, so it was time to take them off. The looks from passers by due to the sheer noise coming from my feet was too much!<br />
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<strong><u>Speyside Way</u></strong><br />
We are heading up to the beautiful Cairngorms later on to stay with friends and I'm planning a day long run tomorrow on the Speyside Way, with maybe a bit of hill walking thrown in on Sunday.<br />
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Later on this year in August, I am signed up to run the 36-mile <a href="http://www.speysidewayrace.co.uk/"><strong>Speyside Way Race</strong></a>, so it will be good to scope and re-familiarise with part of the trail for this. I had a brilliant experience there in 2011 and was registered last year but had to defer due to the post-West Highland Way achilles injury. Lets hope I make it there this year after the Western States!<br />
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<strong><u>UltrAspire Surge Review</u></strong><br />
I also recently wrote another gear review for UltrAspire, this time for the Surge hydration pack, my first foray into hydration packs and most definitely a positive one. See the review on <a href="http://ultrarunningworld.co.uk/the-ultraspire-surge-hydration-vest-review-by-caroline-mckay/"><strong>the Ultrarunning World site.</strong></a><br />
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Next week I try again - Thursday brings the first Napier session and speed intervals will resume!</div>
Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-73070763774165665792013-03-07T15:39:00.000-08:002013-03-07T15:48:47.608-08:00If Carlsberg did Ultras...After all the obsessive planning and scheduling involved in Western States training, I reverted to impulsive form a couple of weeks back when Mark Cooper mentioned he was due to run the Endurance Life Northumbria Ultra soon, one of their Coastal Trail Series. I took a look at their website, which to a backdrop of stunning images of sandy beaches and sunshine read '98% full'. Too tempting. Having nothing on that weekend apart from a 30 mile training run - this race would end up being 34 miles - I signed up there and then. I'd never been to Northumbria - not counting East Coast Mainline - so wanted to explore there anyway.<br />
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It all serendipitously came together when my friend Julie decided to join me to explore Holy Island and the general surrounds. She even managed to get us a cottage for the whole weekend, courtesy of her kind friend from the area, so we headed down to the little fishing village called Craster on Friday night to settle in. We arrived to a night sky awash with stars and a house already cosy with the coal fire left on for us. Happy Friday indeed.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Bamburgh Castle Registration</td></tr>
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And so the next morning we drove the 13 miles back up the coast to race registration in Bamburgh. And what a registration location - without a doubt the most stunning one I've seen to date - Bamburgh Castle, which was bathed in glowing morning light from the sun which had just risen. I had all of 10 minutes to register, grab my timing chip and do some general faffing and photo taking before hopping on the bus that would take us out to the start, inland in a town called Alnwick. It was great to catch up with Mark and his friend Tony Holland on the bus and hear about their plans for the year...Tony is taking on the West Highland Way Race and the Lakeland too - exciting stuff.<br />
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After a pretty comprehensive briefing from Endurance Life, including words on respect for the environment and a challenge to pick up at least one piece of litter, we set off across a series of fields and paths. After a wrong turn for 100 metres or so taken by <b>the entire field</b> of around 70, we got back on track that would take us 6 or 7 miles out to the coast. The rest of the course was brilliantly well marked with the consistent branding of Endurance Life and getting on to the coastal path at Alnmouth was just lovely, with the expanse of blue sky and sea all around us and soft sandy paths weaving through the dune system. I hit the first check point at 6.7 miles in 1.02 hrs and stopped only to tear my jacket off and stuff it into my hydration pack - the UltrAspire Surge, which I have completely fallen for. Its so lightweight I hardly notice it and has zero bounce and fantastic little fuel pockets.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reaching the coastal path for the first time at Alnmouth</td></tr>
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The route travelled up the coastal path for 20 miles, threading through little villages and towns - first Boulmer then Howick, Craster, Beadnell, Newton, Seahouses and Bamburgh. As per the typical Endurance Life event there were a number of races being held, a 10k, half marathon, marathon and the ultra. The marathon was setting off from where we did shortly after, and later on the fastest runners would begin to overtake us.<br />
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At around mile 12 the Norwegian girl who'd been behind me caught up and we chatted for a while before she sped off. I had to remind myself more than once to run my own race and of my promise to Julie that this would be a training run only.<br />
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I tried to keep my pace steady and didn't stop at any of the other checkpoints apart from the check the timing chip in and grab a handful of sweets:<br />
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<b>CP2: Howick - 12.7 miles 1.51 hrs</b><br />
<b>CP3: Newton - 18.7 miles 2: 51 hrs</b><br />
<b>CP4: Seahouses - 24.6 miles 3.46 hrs</b><br />
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I was just enjoying the peace, soaking up the sun and scenery, and was on my own for much of the remainder, apart from around mile 20 when I passed Tony. He was struggling with gastro problems, mentioning a 65 mile treadmill run he'd done for charity last weekend might have been too much! I also ran past a few other guys when we made it down onto the beach at Beadnell. One was one of the 'Vegan Runners' crew and mentioned I was moving into sixth place overall. The beach sections between paths were free and so much fun, apart from the seemingly endless final beach section into Bamburgh, where the marathon runners started passing us and heading up to the castle for the finish. Us ultra runners had to veer right round the castle instead for the final 8 mile loop, north around the paths and roads of Bamburgh to return to the same beach section and finish. Just as we started the final section I was passed again by another girl - who turned out to be the sister of the Norwegian girl in second place. Then all of a sudden Julie appears cheering in the dunes - a welcome support and encourgement not to slow and lose focus.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me plodding up the final hill to the castle</td></tr>
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I found some energy from a Trek bar and pushed on, overtaking the girl again once we were round the side of the castle and heading up a hilly road. I thought she would follow in suit but she stayed back. I headed into another field section, where for the only time during the race the signage seemed to disappear. I did a few 180's until I spotted signage on the main road over the wall and promptly hopped over to get back on track. The tarmac went on and on - and every time I expected the signage to turn us logically back toward the castle we were sent off in the opposite direction, with the sun now beating down on us unrelentingly. Finally, after another field section the beach appeared again, and all of a sudden I was running the same stretch down towards the castle - a bit groundhog day but not exactly uninspiring scenery to be stuck with!<br />
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After the final cheeky little hill up to the castle finish line I was done, in 5.31. And pretty dehydrated given I hadn't refilled my hydration pack for the entire race. I was only over the finish line for 2 seconds when the Endurance Life team handed me a print out of my splits - who needs a Garmin! We were all confused about placing - the team included - as the first Norwegian girl had done a disappearing act and the second wasn't in yet either, so it turned out I'd come second female, and third overall, despite my print out stating eighth overall. The ladies came in 10 minutes after and it transpired the first had not taken the final turn off up the hill to the castle finish and continued running along the beach. Quite a few of the guys running had also decided to call it a day for one reason or another at marathon distance, which the organisers had spelled out would be possible and a finishing time still given. Chris Jackson won in 5.05 with Lizzie Wraith close at his heels, first female and second overall in 5.07. There ended up being 4 ladies in the top 5.<br />
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<b><a href="http://www.endurancelife.com/results.asp?title=CTS%20Northumberland%202013,%2002.03.13&results=2013_cts13_northumberland.htm">Race Results</a></b><br />
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So what else can I say - spectacular route, professional and seamless race directing, brilliantly marked course, sunshine, seascapes and later in the weekend, sticky toffee pudding. Julie and I even managed a lovely recovery run the next day alond the Craster section of the route, to soak up more of the scenery and surroundings whilst we could. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beach at Bamburgh</td></tr>
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The only slight (but barely there) negative would be the focus Endurance Life placed on essential kit all runners <b>had to carry - </b>for the ultra this included foil blanket, first aid kit, whistle, jacket etc, all of which would be spot checked and were available to buy at their shop at registration if runners didn't have them. I can understand this for a true wilderness trail race but I'm not sure it was warranted for the coastal path, which led us through villages/towns every few miles.<br />
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And now the rain has returned but at least I have the first heat training session at Napier to look forward to tomorrow. Happy running days.Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-42764852273625637172013-03-01T06:27:00.002-08:002013-03-01T06:27:56.845-08:00Western States Training PlanFrom the moment I found out I'd been drawn in the Western States lottery, I knew I had to make the most of the opportunity by committing myself wholeheartedly to the most specific training plan possible - try to train to my peak without getting injured. I don't normally struggle with motivation in actually getting out the door to train, but my track record with using the training plans I've spent time writing is not brilliant. After all, aren't plans meant to be useless, but planning essential? I've spent hours writing detailed plans and sticking to them for a few weeks but then opting instead for running to feel and balancing mileage and type of session out in my head very roughly based on what I have done already. If I want to run the best race I can in June, I have to take a more disciplined approach and ensure I get the required specificity into every training session. I guess its transferable to work in a way - would you spend weeks/months working on activities or projects without keeping to or continually referencing a plan or strategy? Answer should probably be no.<br />
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To get me into the disciplined state of mind that my winter certainly lacked, I gave up alcohol in early January - something I seriously regretted this week after a decent dose of stress at work! Nevertheless, it is amazing how quickly you adapt and accept and it already feels more than worth it. <br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Its fair to say I overdosed on Western States race reports, blogs, participant info and podcasts to help build the bare principles of my training plan for the Big Dance on 29th June. I even read Dean Karnazes Ultramarathon Man again - a different experience the second time round! The recent film <span id="goog_1754364561"></span><span id="goog_1754364562"></span><a href="http://www.journeyfilm.com/servlet/the-53/Unbreakable-DVD--dsh--PreSale/Detail"><strong>Unbreakable</strong></a> on Western States was by far worth the pricey download for pure inspiration about taking on the race - it follows the battle for first place in 2010 that took place between Geoff Roes, Killian Jornet and Anton Krupicka. Incredible to see a film about running that is so gripping! </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roes and Krupicka running the Western States</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I digress....stellar training and race prep advice also came from Adrian Stott, who knows a thing or two about endurance tra</span>ining, and generous others like Ellie Greenwood and Lizzie Hawker, who Adrian put me in touch with. Tim Lambert has been a great source of info and advice on the actual race and logistics - he crewed Jez Bragg at the Western States last year and may be heading out to California again himself this year. By far the best specific training advice blog I read was <a href="http://sharmanian.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/how-to-train-forwestern-states-100.html"><strong>Ian Sharman's</strong></a> - who has run the Western States several times, consistently finishing top 10.<br />
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So here is the finished plan for June - I may tweak a few sessions here and there as I go along but in general I'm determined to stick to this balance of specific sessions, the main priority elements being:<b> </b></div>
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<li><b>1-2 weekends per month of long back-to-back runs</b> on difficult, hilly trails like the West Highland Way, or in the Pentland Hills.<b> </b></li>
<li><b>1-2 x interval speed training sessions</b> per week of 1 hour each <b> </b></li>
<li><b>2 x tempo runs per week</b> of 1-2 hours each<b> </b></li>
<li><b>Strength/core workouts</b> using suspension belt </li>
<li><b>Training in a specialist heat & altitude chamber </b>at Napier Uni’s Sports Science School for 1-2 hours (March - June)</li>
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As you can see I'll be training 60-70 miles per week. My main concern is staying healthy and recovering well after each session, especially the long back to backs and downhills. Super high mileage of 100+ is not for me - I know my body and dont want to take the risk of not recovering properly/fatiguing ahead of June, meaning my peak fitness will have passed and I won't be as fresh as possible by the time I'm on the start line.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The finish line I will be visualising (but not with this finish time!)</td></tr>
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Obviously without the luxury of being nearby to the actual Western States trail it is tough to train with totally specificity. I am hoping that flying out 10 days prior will help more with my body acclimatising to the heat as well as give ample time to familiarise with the course - hikes in the midday heat will be the agenda! I'll be doing this from either end, staying in Auburn for a long weekend then Truckee (near the start at Squaw Valley, Lake Tahoe) for the week before.</div>
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I've also recently had my VO2 max and metabolic efficiency tested at Napier, the results of which have really helped inform my plan in terms of training in the right heart rate zones and increasing fat utilisation - an absolutely fascinating experience to go through and one that is worthy of a post all on its own, at the risk of boring folk with too many stats from the report.</div>
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And after all this talk of planning - last week I impulsively signed up to run the <a href="http://www.endurancelife.com/event-new.asp?series=70&location=176"><strong>Northumbria Ultra</strong></a> this Saturday! Mark Cooper is running and I was persuaded by it only being 98% full, so I blame it all on him. The route heads from Alnwick to the coast and along what looks like a beautiful dune system up to Bamburgh, before a final loop around the town to the finish. It has to be a training run so I will be practising my displine with that! Happy weekends to all :-)</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></span></span>Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102809117820666051.post-10689578498559571432013-02-17T07:45:00.000-08:002013-02-17T07:45:17.610-08:00UltrAspire Molecular Belt System ReviewThose who know me will know I am not one to be that interested in technical intricacies or specification of kit - one of the things I love about ultra running is its simplicity. But over the past 3 years of running ultras I have trialled and errored and learnt the hard way how important the practical parts of racing are. If you have an ill-fitting race belt or hydration pack you will be travelling a long way with the niggles.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Box of goodies</td></tr>
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On talking to the European distributor of ultra gear company UltrAspire about the Western States, they kindly sent me a box of gear goodies to see me through training and racing with a view to doing a few reviews along the way. I'd been admiring their lightweight race packs for a while, some of which are co-designed by Krissy Moehl, eilte American ultra runner and one-time UTMB
champion. Started by Bryce Thatcher, who also started Ultimate Direction before designing for Nathan, it is a relatively new company which, as the name indicates, is targeted specifically at the ultra running community.<br />
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The MBS<br />
I tried the Molecular Belt System (MBS) out on recent training runs and during the Thames Trot 50 ultra earlier this month. Its such a personal preference but lightweight race belts have always been my gear comfort zone and having always run with belts rather than packs the MBS would have been my natural first choice of all UltrAspire's products.<br />
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Components<br />
The main design concept of the MBS is
interesting: that you can choose any one of a possible eight 'core' pieces and
attach it to one of a possible five belt connectors. These are all
interchangeable, so you can decide which combinations of the two components fit your running and racing best. The core pieces mainly consist of bottle options, designed to sit around the back of the waist. They include the Fusion (two small 0.24 litre bottles), the Synapse (one larger 0.6 litre bottle, in a bottle pocket with a large capacity zipper for gels etc) or the Nerve (large 0.6 litre bottle in a more lightweight bottle pocket). There are also other core pieces which act like additional connctors for minimalism or extra pocket space, I guess for those who are running shorter or have have lots of support.<br />
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The connector options are essentially the waist belt parts, designed to fit around the front of the waist. They include the Atom (waist belt with small mesh pouch), the Cell (with larger mesh pouch), the Peptide (minimalist belt with just a elastic cord for holding gels and a tiny mesh pocket for electrolyte pills or other small essentials) and the Neutron (pouch designed specifically for a gel bottle).<br />
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See the full range of core and connector pieces <a href="http://www.ultraspire.net/products/">here</a> or watch the intro video on the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hH6t3Jwe-Ro&feature=youtu.be">MBS</a>.<br />
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I chose the Nerve as my core and the Cell as my connecter:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDPyv_Dk03VsPZ3sOaBMdbO5f9MgKTAboFYSlqA-kpyVf3pfbW_emTJfNidDat6RInqB4q8hdwMrlEwpHhj-4KL9hIDVVil6IcXPklbVuN-Sl4YtR437DGTBjY1T38XpPy4e5jlOEOd4/s1600/UA302BK-NERVE-BLACK-183135839-PRINT-500x500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDPyv_Dk03VsPZ3sOaBMdbO5f9MgKTAboFYSlqA-kpyVf3pfbW_emTJfNidDat6RInqB4q8hdwMrlEwpHhj-4KL9hIDVVil6IcXPklbVuN-Sl4YtR437DGTBjY1T38XpPy4e5jlOEOd4/s320/UA302BK-NERVE-BLACK-183135839-PRINT-500x500.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Nerve</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGAB5gQ96Ap8RbuSmwZAA_qCMMJxXqekthTY4Hs4h-BGTgNTGlIAYtw8mRdNpqK-B4Vvye3jlCKZfINITy84HJ4gcodAmktNZRvTvbzXHj1D6T8a_eqanJ5SrZVCYC3LNOfEdMmejKeu8/s1600/ultraspire_cell_mbs_connector_belt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGAB5gQ96Ap8RbuSmwZAA_qCMMJxXqekthTY4Hs4h-BGTgNTGlIAYtw8mRdNpqK-B4Vvye3jlCKZfINITy84HJ4gcodAmktNZRvTvbzXHj1D6T8a_eqanJ5SrZVCYC3LNOfEdMmejKeu8/s1600/ultraspire_cell_mbs_connector_belt.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cell</td></tr>
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With Western States training/long runs in mind I need a belt that will hold a decent volume of water (for the UK not in the US where you'd probably need to run with two large bottles in the summer) as well as nutrition and essentials like phone, keys, money etc.<br />
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What I like is the sheer number of options the different components give, depending on your need for nutrition capacity, water, extra pockets etc. The Cell pouch is a lot larger than the standard pouches on race belts, and I could get my iPhone, keys and a couple of gels in there. If you weren't carrying a huge phone then you'd most likely be able to squeeze 9 or 10 gel packs in. There is a handy inner pocket inside the pouch, offering security for cash cards, keys etc.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjXVd4TuhLtxmeiDNxT4D5vF63YZW4AT1UDRqVqY5cxDAnL8HZIUyNsETs8yxGmECmuLlZxYRUSwRiB9whZiebbYkLc48AxOpdAPe3TRsuaqDZIet7wZa2VE2ta2uSEPdhxDw90_x3I8/s1600/Fusion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjXVd4TuhLtxmeiDNxT4D5vF63YZW4AT1UDRqVqY5cxDAnL8HZIUyNsETs8yxGmECmuLlZxYRUSwRiB9whZiebbYkLc48AxOpdAPe3TRsuaqDZIet7wZa2VE2ta2uSEPdhxDw90_x3I8/s1600/Fusion.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or the Fusion core</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DSXAWQgT0KD6LZfzCYN0PyRZIFXT9-CeOlrBBtpEUQ1wmklCZ42IqQH-nf9HEYyx-OCTcM52qyGVj592_pn3yy96vlFKBoRuhtqklhPUI4B0cRZGjCDC3oJjx8Nl22j30LSchNa2OaY/s1600/Electron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DSXAWQgT0KD6LZfzCYN0PyRZIFXT9-CeOlrBBtpEUQ1wmklCZ42IqQH-nf9HEYyx-OCTcM52qyGVj592_pn3yy96vlFKBoRuhtqklhPUI4B0cRZGjCDC3oJjx8Nl22j30LSchNa2OaY/s1600/Electron.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other options: the Electron connector</td></tr>
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I ordered a small and at first thought this was going to be too tight, but the belt actually naturally fits higher around the waist than other belts I am used to, and in this position I've found it extremely comfortable - almost barely there. In the Thames Trot I found that I had to be careful when refilling/replacing the bottle and re-stocking the pouch at aid stations, as its important to get the bottle/belt back into the correct position - when replaced correctly it almost moulds to your shape but incorrectly it can jar.<br />
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I don't really like the weight of carrying a full bottle - something I am trying to get used to for Western States - so at the Thames Trot I just half filled my bottle and drank a lot at each check point. This probably added to my feeling of the belt being barely there. Thankfully wasn't any chaffage either - in my experience this can surprise you out of the blue at races even when wearing gear you haven't chaffed with in the past (after the West Highland Way last year I ended up with quite severe belly button issues!).<br />
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The bottle top was pretty easy to screw on and off and there doesn't seem to be any leakage when running with a full bottle, as I've found with so many other bottles (Nathan being an example). There's a handy wee finger loop on the side of the bottle too, and with the Nerve core there is also an elastic cord on the side of the bottle pocket which you could fasten a waterproof or other clothing item into if need be.<br />
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So my verdict on the MBS is entirely positive when worn for the right type of run or race. Though I have to say after spouting my preference for race belts this last few days I've been trying out the 'Surge' hydration vest. I think I am a convert! But I'll leave that to another post to avoid being disloyal to the MBS...Caroline Mckayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04705902932577578049noreply@blogger.com0