The Bolton Abbey Ultra Marathon, 32 miles

Wow! What a day, filled with great people, great running, great weather and great places!

Was really looking forward to this race. Feel like have had a few good ultras now, and feeling a bit more confident about The 100 Training Plan actually going to plan, rather than dramatically off course, which it tends to do sometimes. Also, the event is organised by 'It's Grim Up North' which appeals to a northern person. Woke up at 4 am, which is a bit early, even for a race day, but it's a bit like having to get up early to go on holiday, it's totally different to having to get up early to go to work. Lovely drive over the border to Yorkshire, while the sun rose and painted the sky a riot of colours. The start of a spectacular day!

Had a little moment in the car park where I temporarily lost my car keys, which got the heart rate up a bit, but found them again, and Andrew celebrated by eating a banana.

Met one of my heros today. I follow 'Ben's Bowel Movements' blog which is written by Ben, who has terminal bowel cancer. Instead of letting cancer dictate things, he shows it who's boss. He started by running 6 marathons in 6 months to raise money for charity, but didn't stop there, and he has now run 21 marathons/ ultras! His blog/ Facebook page are incredibly uplifting, and whenever I read it and Ben's thoughts, I always feel enormously positive about everything, and like I just want to get out there and take charge of my life and conquer the world. So it was brilliant to see Ben and his lovely family today, and meet a true legend! Thanks Ben for being so inspiring, it was an honor for Andrew and me to meet you and your family, and looking forward to seeing you at some more crazy races soon! Very excited to get a picture, and thanks to Louise for taking it!

 Ben has a fundraising page check it out if you can, as he is a brilliant bloke raising money for fantastic causes!

The route was beautiful. I spent many happy days running/ cycling around this area while I was living in Leeds, but I had forgotten how much I love Bolton Abbey! The route was 4 laps up and down the valley, so plenty of time to take in the views. And plenty of hills to climb to get the views from. Plenty. Holy moly it was hilly. I found the route really tough, but a good tough, like the burning in my legs was a good burning, like I was working hard.

The organisation of the race was a bit haphazard, and we ended up going the wrong way (did an extra hill, like there wasn't enough already) at one point (and met Ben, who was going the right way). But it was the first time the race had been run (run - ha ha!), and let's face it the first time we do anything, unexpected occurrences pop up all over the place. It was a great race, and I hope the organisers learn from it, and that the race becomes a firm fixture in the race calendar. 

The only downside to the day was that I got 4 blisters from my new shoes, and after only about 5 miles. Cannot stand blisters. But I decided this was maybe a good opportunity to get to grips with discomfort. As I am training for 100 miles, but the furthest I've done is 50 (which only seems to be half as far) I am quite prepared that the last 50 are going to be quite (entirely) uncomfortable. I tried out lots of different strategies to deal with the blisters - ignoring them (didn't work, at all), internalizing the pain, complaining about it, making the pain into an 'orb' in the front of my mind (this is what Andrew does), or thinking of that saying that pain is weakness leaving your body. I really doubt that whoever came came up with that one had ever had blisters. If you're squeamish in any way, skip to the next paragraph, but when I finally took my shoes off when I got to the car, stone the crows! My feet were full of blood filled blisters! I burst them when I was home and clean, which approximately 50% of runners will be horrified by, and the other 50% will completely agree that this is the best strategy. I have no idea if it's the right thing to do or not, but they were so painful that that was the only option I felt like, so I did it, and now they feel much better. If any one has any suggestions to deal with blisters (or, ideally, eliminate them totally), feel free to shout your opinions on here. 

Being a lapped course, we passed the marshals several times. The most friendliest marshal in the world was stationed by a gate by Bolton Abbey, and each time we ran past he threw a Usain Bolt style BOLT pose or chucked us a high five. To keep up this level of enthusiasm for well over 6 hours, in the freezing cold is truly a feat. For the full mile before we got to him I debated whether it would be a bolt or a high five, which was a brilliant distraction, because the mile before that was through a cow field and up a steep hill, and was my least favourite of the whole race. Thanks Bolt!  

Also a great bonus at the end was meeting up with Dave, Kath and Becky from my old running club Chapel Allerton Runners! I hadn't quite made the connection in my mind that going back over to that neck of the woods to do a running event I would be quite likely to bump into some familiar faces. Was brilliant to see them and catch up on almost 2 years news, and great to hear that the club is growing and doing well, as more people discover the joys of running and the great friends to be made through it. Good to see you guys, miss you, and hope to see you again soon!

Did it in 6 hours 26 minutes, and my watch read 33 miles, which means we got a whole extra mile for free. Also got a free pen in the goody bag, which was well worth running that far for, I'm always on the look out for a free pen. Also got a bookmark, which is a first, and a good amount of chocolate. 

Fortified by a large coffee (which I had been thinking about since mile 4), we pulled ourselves away from the friendly cocoon of the Bolton Abbey running community, and headed home, to begin the long and arduous task of replacing 2600 calories. Tough work, but some one has to do it.

Scared of the dark

Time for night training! Was totally looking forward to this all day on Saturday, so was a bit gutted to find it my toughest run in a long time (well, in at least two weeks). Total stinker of a run. My legs had as much energy in them as an empty sugar bowl, and my feet were as light as a sack of spuds. 

Apart from feeling pants, it was an excellent run. Down the canal to the Thames, left to Greenwich, under the foot tunnel, turn right and all along the south of the river to Tower Bridge, over Tower Bridge, back along the river to Limehouse and back up the canal.

Great to practice running in the dark. Along the canal was pretty dark. Especially dark, because my head torch didn't work. 

The world looks very different in the dark. Swans look like ghosts gliding through the water. Branches look like bony hands reaching out to strangle you. Bushes look like spectres in capes crouching in the dark waiting to pounce. And that was in London, where let's face it, it's not exactly dark, or even close, what with the millions of lights casting a warm glow all about the place. What's it going to be like in the middle of Dorset, in the middle of nowhere, in the pitch dark, at 1am? What type of ghouls will be lurking there??? Now (3 months beofre an overnight race) is probably not a good time to face the fact that I hate the dark. I can't even go to the loo in the night without switching on all the lights. Clearly, psychologically I need to man up, and focus on the actual pressing concerns of running in the dark, i.e. falling off a Dorset cliff/ tripping over an unseen root and breaking an ankle/ taking a wrong turn and doing 100 miles + 1 (or, quite probably, more).

I have to switch the light off and go to bed in a minute, so to take my mind off what might be lurking in the darkness (I always panic that my dressing gown is an actual person), here are some photos from the run....

A sportsman in his place:

Canary Wharf across the river:

New flashing trainers (thanks The Childs' family!):

Tower Bridge at night:

Good night
Sleep tight
Don't let the bed bugs bite.....

The Punchbowl Marathon

Bit late this one, still on a high from last weekends running! Am trying some long 'back-to-back' runs in my quest for 100 mile success. So had a long weekend off, totally dedicated to the cause = best weekend ever! Friday had a whole days running along my favourite ever route. From the house down to the River Thames at London Bridge, along to Putney, then on to Kew and Richmond, up and a lap of Richmond Park, and back along the river to Putney. 36.5 miles altogether. Had a little mishap at the start, as I had forgotten to bring the seal bit of the water reservoir for my camlebak, so tried out some improvised seals using hair-bobbles and clips, and soaked my bag and it's contents (twice) in the process. Tip: if you've forgotten your seal, don't bother with the camelbak, however annoyed you are feeling at your bad memory, and just take a bottle. 

Once I finally got started, it was a great run. Highlights included it not raining, a small furry dog trying to eat my sandwich when I was having a little break for some food in Richmond Park, and listening to 4 solid hours of Agatha Christie 'Death in the Clouds' on my new audio book app (I am so addicted to this stuff it's unreal).

Adjusted the 'back-to-back' approach slightly and had Saturday off to go to my god-daughter's 2nd birthday party - Happy Birthday Josie, you little legend you!!! A lovely day with great friends, who always restore feelings of well being - big thanks to The Childs family for having us! Also got an amazing gift - lights to tie to my trainers which light up each time your feet hit the ground (see next post to see them in action)!

Afterwards, Andrew and I drove to Aldershot to get some rest (and a square meal of giant Yorkshire puddings with sausages) before the Punchbowl Marathon the next day. The Punchbowl Marathon is a long-standing staple on the LDWA calendar, and one I have wanted to do for almost 3 years, after being recommended it by a guy I met while running another marathon. It's either 20 or 30 miles (we did 30) around the Surrey countryside. It was a sunny day and a beautiful route, and was 5 million times better than our last race two weeks ago.

Great practice at map/direction reading (hardly got lost, that's a first), chilled out running, and great scenery. Three awesome checkpoints, where a veritable feast was on offer. Checkpoint 2 had an entire table full of sandwiches of all possible combinations of fillings. I also re-discovered fig rolls, which I was completely obsessed with when I was little, but haven't had for years. Good times! We finished in 6 hours and 33 minutes, and were instantly rewarded with a ginormous plate of beans on toast, rice pudding with fruit, and hot coffee. 

Before going back into the village hall to finish, everyone had to take off trainers/ walking boots. On returning outside after stuffing ourselves to replace our lost calories, it was a pretty tough task to identify the right shoes. Mine are purple and green usually, but by the end, everyone's were the same colour - a fetching shade of mud. 

On the pus side, this was my first proper outing in trail shoes, and oh my goodness, why have I never had any of these before?! I was sceptical to be honest, when people kept saying I should get some, I mean, a trainer's a trainer, right? No! These are magic! No falling over, slipping, sliding, or wet feet! Yes, they are actually waterproof! I think these will genuinely change my running life, love them!

Back on track.....

After the Wilmot Wander disaster, last weeks running got off to a shaky start. Or, not really a start as such, as nothing happened running wise until Thursday, after which it turned into a tremendous weeks running. The most exciting thing being, that Andrew doesn't seem to have knackered in his ankle! And he can run on it for 4 miles! 

Took a long weekend off and went to London with my Mum. Woke up early on first day off and hot footed it down to Victoria Park, for my most heart lifting 7 mile run in weeks. It was light, for a start. It didn't rain. There was a manageable amount of mud. My legs felt springy (ish), bright (but not too cold) air filled my lungs, I was in one of my favourite places, and there were loads of other people out and about. It was so good that I repeated this twice more over the weekend, and like a true addict, finally felt like I'd got my fix.

We also went to Kew Gardens, and to brighten the February mood, here are some nice snaps. There is an Orchid Festival on right now, celebrating Brazil and the Olympics this year (can you believe, it's the Olympics again, already!). The glass house was so warm wandering around inside, as the wind was rattling the glass panes up above. The sky outside was slate grey, but this was drowned out by the riotous bright colours of the flowers inside. I was considering moving in, but then I walked past the mangrove display, and fancied I saw the beady eyes of a croc following me, so I pushed open the door against the battering wind, and returned to England.

Once outside, we did a version of a Top Gear challenge, where we raced home by different transport methods. My Mum walked part of the way, and then bravely tackled London transport by herself for the rest of the trip. I ran home 16.5 miles all the way along the Thames to Andrew's house. I love this route more than any other. I used to run here all the time, and it was so good to be back. I also saw Miranda Hart, which is the first celebrity spotting I have sighted on a run (other than at the London Marathon, which doesn't count, because you don't have to look very hard, and I saw Boris Johnson once while I was cycling but that technically doesn't count either I suppose, as I wasn't running). Results of the Challenge: close, but I scraped a narrow victory of 10 whole minutes. Hurrah!

I have been much fortified by the weekend. Sometimes I feel like depression is like a shadow. I'm always aware that it's close by, but sometimes it's a very dark shadow and it almost feels like it has a physical presence all around me, and no matter which way I turn I can't get rid of it, even if I turn to face the 'sun' by doing all the things I know helps make things brighter. Other times it fades so that it's hardly there at all, just a faint image behind me that I don't even notice if I'm not looking for it. And I guess having faint shadows is alright; we all have emotions, as we're human, and it's natural and good for us to feel both highs and lows, at the right times. I guess I know my problem comes when the shadow becomes something more solid, it hangs around for ages, even when I shouldn't be feeling low, and gets in the way of me living life to the full. The shadow has faded a lot lately for sure, and I am determined to do everything I can to keep it that way as much as I can. 

The Body Bus

The unthinkable has happened. I have clocked a DNF for a race. Sad, sad times.

Let me tell you the story of The Wilmot Wander .

The weekend's running started well, with a great Preston Parkrun with my Dad and Andrew, followed by a leisurely coffee and part of a scone. However, I couldn't shake a bad feeling about the next day's ultra-marathon. I had been struggling a bit with a low mood again for a couple of days, which had knocked me, as I was really starting to feel much better, and I was simultaneously feeling down, but also annoyed that I was feeling down, both at the same time.

So my frame of mind was already sort of negative, but I'll be honest and admit that a lot of my foreboding about the race had also to do with the weather. I love running, but gales and storms cause me to re-assess this feeling. The weather forecast was bad, and I wasn't looking forward to being out in it. All day. 

Still, whenever I think this, it is quickly followed by an image of Sir Ranulph Fiennes looking at me in disgust, and shouting "there is no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing" (for those not in the know of popular running quotes, this is a keeper). Chastised, I put on a base-layer, two waterproofs, thermal gloves, hat, and stepped out into the night (it was actually 7.30 am by this point, but the night sounds more dramatic, which is helpful for the scene I am setting, and anyway it was sort of still dark).

Andrew and I set off at 8.26 am from the 27th Derby Scout Group HQ (everyone was released at two minute intervals), and immediately on entering the first park were barely able to keep upright in the mud, we had to stop and discuss the directions at the very first corner, and the rain and wind hit us square in the face. In hindsight, I should have turned around at that point and headed straight back to the Scout Hut, had a hot cup of coffee and a biscuit, cleaned the mud off my trainers, and said that I would be back to try again next year. But I kept hearing Sir Fiennes's voice, so I didn't do that. A couple of miles later we were out into the countryside climbing through a gate, when Andrew slipped and went over on his ankle. He thought at the time that he had hurt it, but in the true spirit of endurance sports, opted to ignore it, confident it was all in the mind and the pain would disappear. For the next few miles he managed OK and it seemed to have settled, but then it started to get more painful. Finally, at about 13 miles, suddenly something just gave way in his ankle, and he could barely put weight on it. Those were a tricky few miles that followed, where Andrew battled on, and we limped slowly on through the fields, Andrew feeling pain shoot up his leg every time his ankle slipped in the mud. Meanwhile our body temperatures dropped to -10, the mood dropped lower, and the mud got deeper. 

Finally we made it to the next checkpoint, at 17 miles, where we threw in the (by now very wet) towel, and the lovely people manning the checkpoint cleared Andrew a seat in the boot of the car, made us steaming hot cups of coffee and called in the Body Bus from HQ. I thought the Body Bus was a common term, but my Dad looked at me blankly when I told him this story, prompting me to elaborate that this is the vehicle that the organizers have organised to drive around the course picking up participants who have expired on route. I've never been in one before, and have held it in fear, but I have to say, gutted as I was not to complete the race, it was really a very pleasant experience. I was expecting to be thrown in the back of a pick up, with a load of other injured and delirious people, so I was surprised when a brand new, personalized number plated, leather seated Merc turned up. OK, so the organizers found a roll of bin bags in the boot of the car, and ensured that our muddy selves were neatly wrapped up in them before we were allowed in said car, but these are all the experiences that go to making up a true and fond memory. And we had a nice chat with another runner who had also had to retire, also via a mud related injury.

I was sad not to get a nice orange certificate at the end, and another notch on my 100 marathon quest, but you win some you loose some, and that's that. Plus, the only thing that ultimately matters is your and the other participants safety and health during these endeavors, and let's face it, what good would a certificate be, compared to Andrew being safely back at Scout HQ, hot soup and bread in hand, frozen peas on ankle, and the whole experience fading swiftly into the recesses of memory? 

Altogether, the race was a bit of a disaster, and could be seen as a set-back on my 100 mile training program. There were of course some things to be learned. I reeeallllyy need to get some trail shoes. I also need some properly waterproof gloves, as mine were great for 10 miles, but as it was raining so much eventually the rain got through, and I have problems with my hands when they get cold, getting very painful and pretty useless, which makes reading a map/ drinking/ opening bars/ keeping cheerful tricky, which would be a disaster if I was on my own. I also really hate mud. I am used to being muddy, it goes with winter running in the north west of England (and summer running too to be honest), but  I can say that this was easily the most muddy I have ever been. I am coming round to the idea that perhaps trail running in the middle of winter may not be for me. Perhaps my running calendar should follow more of a autumn/winter, spring/summer pattern, like fashion does. Road races in the winter, trails in the summer (with different shoes, of course, to fir in with the fashion theme).

There are some positives though. I wasn't tired at any point, I felt I could have finished, had no stomach trouble, got most of the map reading right (ish), and got some (more) character building training in. I also tried out my new camelbak, and loved it. Not having to hold a bottle is quality! We also saw Bill (the 71 year old 100 marathon record holder who is training for the Marathon de Sables, who I first met at another race in December), and it was great to see him - a legend and a genuinely lovely bloke! So, good times were had too.

I hope not to see you on the Body Bus anytime soon. 

Take care all.