Having enjoyed a really nice break
from training following the Spartathlon last October and then with the season going
well from November, I wasn’t surprised by my good performance at Country to
Capital in January. Three weeks later I also got a personal best, with 7hr 40 in
the very muddy 50-miles Thames Trot, and remarkably, all done without any speed
training. So with this behind me, I had in mind that one of my next goals was
to go sub 19hrs at Thames Path 100.
Soon after the Thames Trot, I
suffered a calf strain which prevented me from running consistently for a
number of weeks. I have hardly suffered from injuries, so it was very frustrating
for me to say the least, however after a few weeks of cycling, swimming and
sessions with my therapist, my calf finally improved. During this time, I also
started to question my desire to compete in endurance events, I was suffering from
low self-esteem, lacking confidence, and not really sure how to move on from
that, all in all I felt emotionally drained.
Talking to others about my
problem really helped, it is great to know people care about you. One of the best
pieces of advice I got was to have a blood test and talk to the GP, which I did.
When the results came, everything was normal except that my iron levels were on
the low end of normal, which I determined was probably not ideal for an endurance
athlete! I haven’t had a follow up test yet but have increased my red meat
intake to see if this helps.
In February I have started having
guitar lessons and am simply in love with it all. Although I can only play (badly)
a handful of songs, I just can’t get enough of playing. It is just so
therapeutic and fun playing and singing and having my girls to help me. My only
regret being that I did not start learning years ago. I have also discovered that
it is ok to enjoy doing other things asides from exercising excessively!
Well, with a calf strain, lacking
in confidence, potentially with low levels of iron and a new found love for
playing guitar, ultra-running was no longer my top priority. Don’t get me
wrong, I still love running and that will never change, but at the time I
lacked the desire to train consistently and be able to complete.
As the weeks went by I slowly felt
better, a bit more positive and able to run more often…
The 105-mile Recce – As some
of you may know I have a place for the Thames Ring 250-miler in two months’
time, which without a doubt will be a monster challenge. As part of my
preparations for it, I arranged to run from where I live in Leighton Buzzard to
Oxford via the Grand Union and Oxford canals with two friends. We decided to
start on a Monday morning at the end of March, with the aim of getting there
the next day. Despite not being in the right frame of mind for this, I didn’t want
to put it off and disrupt my friend’s preparations, especially as they were
travelling from far.
We set off with a walk/run
strategy, just as we intend to do during the Thames Ring, without any problems
we ticked off the miles by making jokes and discussing racing strategies, etc.
We made it to 50 miles in just over 9 hours without looking at our watches too
much. We found a lovely village in Northamptonshire where we had our first
proper break and we took the opportunity to stock up on fluid and food at a
small shop, as we were unsupported and it would be unlikely that we would find
another opportunity to do this again at night.
We moved on and by 70 miles I
could feel tightness returning in my calf and my mood soon derailed, we weren’t
talking much then and I started to hate every second of the run. Again I began
questioning my desire to compete, I was telling myself that I had nothing to
prove and perhaps I’ve just had enough
of ultra-running, and I started to make plans to write to the race directors
withdrawing my future race entries. Why was I so stupid to want to swap my warm
bed next to my lovely wife to run silly distances in the English countryside? I
told Martin my calf was a problem and I didn’t want to become a liability to
the group and that I might have to stop in Banbury.
It took another hour or so to get
there; as we entered Banbury it was obvious that there wasn’t anything there.
First I thought that it would be a long wait at a train station, or a very expensive
taxi home, I also thought that if I was going to retire from ultra-running I
should at least finish on a high by completing this ‘training’ run.
Martin gave me no sympathy and
said it was 100% my decision to not carry on. I decided that I would keep going
simply because I didn’t want to finish my ‘career’ with this memory. We carried
on not talking much, paying attention to the route and moaning how shit the
Oxford canal underfoot conditions were.
At the break of dawn I started hallucinating
a bit which was actually good fun, mistaking posts for people and several kept times
where I kept seeing an imaginary blonde running between Dave and Martin. As we got closer to Oxford we were all frustrated
by how far apart the bridges were but eventually we made it to Oxford in roughly
23hrs30min and immediately google-mapped the nearest pub for a well-deserved
pint and a fry up.
Half asleep on the taxi journey
back to Leighton Buzzard, I started enjoying all those lovely feelings and had
a big smile on my face- ultra runner’s high at its best.
I bounced back very quickly from
that run both emotionally and physically, the following week I was running well
again without any calf problems and any ideas of quitting ultra-running were quashed
and I began feeling like my normal self again. I was now very much looking
forward to the Thames Path 100 and Thames Ring 250.
Thames Path 100 – the race is a
point to point trail ultra, starting in Richmond and finishing in Oxford
following the beautiful Thames Path. The weather looked perfect for running,
dry and cool, no excuses. I also knew the course like the back of my hand
having completed it twice in the past. I felt in good shape and wanted to improve
my current personal best of 19h14, although I didn’t feel under pressure to do
this bearing in mind my issues during the last few weeks. My plan was to get to
25miles in 4 hours, halfway in 8:30 then see what I had left.
I went to work on Friday with a blocked
nose but kept telling myself it was hayfever. I got to the hotel in Richmond,
had a lovely bath, my pre-race meal and slept like a log until 6am, I woke up
with a blocked nose but told myself again that it was hayfever and it would dry
up as soon as I started running.
3-2-1…We were off. The first 15
miles went like a breeze, sticking to my plan and feeling good. By the time I
got to the aid station at mile 22 I had been suffering from cold sweats and I
felt horrible, with my legs slowly turning to jelly in the process. I walked as
I left the aid station, my buddy Ilsuk caught up with me and I tried running
with him but I felt truly awful. I finally accepted it wasn’t hayfever and that
I must be coming down with something. I thought about walking back to the aid
station, as it was so close and handing in my number, admitting that sometimes
it just isn’t your day. Instead I decided to walk to the next one and see
whether my luck would turn. Once I got into a rhythm walking was fine and I was
averaging 3.5miles/hour. I was worried that if I couldn’t finish 100-miles I
would be going in to the Thames Ring 250 with my confidence bruised and conversely,
I was also worried that trying to finish this race with a cold would be a silly
idea. Every time I tried to run I would overheat and my legs would turn to
jelly, so I reverted back to walking, with my brain changing what it wanted to
do every 5 minutes, ‘DNF now, go home’, ‘finish this you wimp’. I did this
until the aid station at mile 44, and as the sun started going down I tried to
run and it felt ok and I had a really good spell of running until mile 49. By
then it was dark and I was shivering and I had really had enough. Henley-on-Thames at
51 miles was my next big check point, it was still early enough for my wife to
pick me up and I wasn’t sure it would be sensible to keep going feeling so
rubbish, what would the rest of the night be like?
Arriving in Henley I checked in, and
went to see the paramedic straightaway, he said I must have something brewing
inside me and that there was no shame in only covering 50miles but never told
me I should stop, he said it was my call in the end of the day.
I went back to the food area, got
a small bowl of Bolognese and some Coke and spotted my friend Glyn. ‘Glyn, I’m going to sit down and decide what I
want to do, I feel rubbish’, Glyn replied with some solid advice, that nothing
would change by sitting down, that I should put all my layers on, finish the
pasta and grind a finish.
Reading Aid station was only 7
miles away and I could always find a hotel for the night there so I marched on
wearing everything I had, with Glyn giving me some much needed moral support
and walking me out of Henley. I phoned Anna and said I would carry on trying
and she insisted I take some Ibuprofen which I hate, but I followed the orders.
I then caught up with Paul Commons and we decided to carry on together. Once at
Sonning Lock, two miles from Reading we both felt better and ran a bit to the
aid station. Was my luck starting to change?
We didn’t spend long there and took
advantage of the new found mojo to run quite a bit to Whitchurch Aid station at
67 miles. On the approach to Whitchurch we caught up with Paul’s friend Louise
who was ready to quit and Glen Keegan who was looking after her.
We all left the aid station
together and walked all the way to Streatley, a mere four miles away. Nothing
was going to stop us now, we had plenty of time to walk the rest of the race
and earn our buckles. The boys were moving well once we left the aid station
and Louise stayed with a pacer. We ran a lot which was really uplifting, our
chats were great, the banter was even better and time was passing by quickly, we
were looking forward to the sunrise.
Once we left the aid station at
mile 85 we knew we had it in the bag. Paul’s pacer Jools joined us, becoming
our ‘gate bitch’, his watch was still working and told us we were moving fast,
we ran lots and lots, overtaking a lot of people in the process. At 8am I rang
Anna and told her to get to Oxford quickly, as I was dreaming of running the
last few hundred metres with the girls, as they had never seen me finish
100-miles.
The boys went on to finish with a
personal best, Louise finished the race too which was great to see and although
I finished a few hours later (25h07) than anticipated, I had a big smile on my
face. The hard races are the ones that count, right? I was absolutely delighted
to finish this race, and despite feeling pretty rubbish with the flu for the
last week, my mojo is definitely back and I am looking forward to the Thames
Ring 250.
We, endurance athletes put our
heart and soul in to pursuing our goals, we sacrifice a lot of things in the
process and have to juggle everything else in our lives for this obsession. It
is no wonder that from time to time we feel the pressure like I did. I read somewhere
that running is something we love to do, not something we must do, from the
moment it becomes a chore then something is wrong. My advice is that if you are
suffering like I was, to talk to your friends, you will be surprised by how
common this is.
By the way I don’t play guitar
naked! J Not
yet anyway!
