Races – Page 9 – Run With Dai

SVP100 2018

Published on August 12, 2018 by runwithdai5 Comments

3 amigos — Running with company – Ged and Chris

Same Place, Different Race

Last year I ran the Stour Valley Path 100km (SVP100). I found it tough going. This year I went back for more. There was a slight twist this time round – I already knew other runners and I’m far more experienced (where as the SVP100 2017 was my 2^nd Ultra, the SVP100 2018 was my 5^th of the year!). I Met Chris on the course last time out and we were both going back and we’d been in touch about running it together from the start. I also knew Ged (when we met at Race to the Tower) and had talked him into joining us (he was way too easily convinced!).

Ged

Chris

Prep wise, I knew I was ready after a few months of Ultras and that the distance was a given. But I remember the course being tough and my mind has jumped forward to The CCC in just 3 weeks time. I didn’t want to get injured!

Much of the day had blurred into a few memories. The three of us started together and ran 13 hours together to the finish line together. Naturally there was a hell of a lot of chat and laughter as well as silence and the low points. Over the course of 100km you pass many sites and trees (and along the SVP route also churches and bridges!!) and it becomes difficult to process them apart. So I thought, as this is the first time I’ve completed the same event twice, I’d revisit and compare the memories from last year to this….

Why I ran the course

(2017) Post RTTS I had the craving, I’d sampled something I liked and I wanted more. I wanted it soon. I started looking and I found this local(ish) 100km and didn’t hesitate to sign-up. Race day just 3 weeks away.

(2018) I enjoyed last year, I want to work towards a black t-shirt (as I’m a simpleton!) and as part of my 12 month challenge the race slotted nicely into the month of August without too much hassle or cost.

The Organisation

(2017) The SVP100 had under 100 competitors – that said, the amount of effort and input to organise such an event is still mammoth undertaking. There is no doubt a greater reliance on support and volunteers to make the event go to plan (which a number of local running teams support). The team did a great job with information, route planning, training guides and support throughout the day.

(2018) Somethings had changed, there were close to the limit of 200 entries this year. In addition, for the first time there was the SVP50. This meant that there was a single starting wave for the SVP100 and far more runners (and grouped together along the course). Despite all this, the organisation remained slick and ran perfectly. Without the volunteer’s enthusiasm and support this wouldn’t be possible!

We arrived at the start to an immediate count down to begin. This was the attempted pre-race group photo!

My Race:

(2017) There was pretty much no training for this one. I was counting on the fitness I’d built over the past few months and the fact that I’d continued running since RTTS.

(2018) Again there was no specific training, although over the year I’ve run further, fast, harder than ever before and had already completed 9 races ( 5 marathons and 4 ultras), so I was in great shape. More importantly, I’m more experienced and wiser to the challenge of ultra running.

(2017) Once again I met a fellow runner, Andy, on the train out to the starting point. Andy and I set off together, both with the intention of making a certain train we’d booked back to London later that evening.

(2018) Whilst Andy wasn’t here this time, I was already setting out to Run with Chris and Ged. More people, more fun. I’d still booked a train home, although I was more calculated this time with a 13 hour target and enough time to wash and eat afterwards!

(2017) I started out with a little niggle in my right knee felt from a run the week before. Whilst I felt comfortable starting the race, within 10 miles I could feel some discomfort as a result of the hard ground and grooves from tractor ruts (there was plenty of ankle rolling this day!).

(2018) I was ready for the terrain this year. Having been through it before I knew what to expect. The scorching summer was going to make the ground very hard and challenging, but two days of rain before the day was a blessing! Limited ankle rolling this year as I’m now more accustomed to my foot placement when running!

(2017) As the miles ticked by, Andy powered on, I was now out on my own, head down, miles to go until the next checkpoint. This race was a real learning curve for me. There were long, lonely stretches where I went almost whole check points without seeing other runners.

(2018) this time, whilst the miles ticked down, there was no loneliness. The company was ever present and besides running with Chris and Ged the course was constantly peppered with runners. Through the early single track paths, to the gradual scattering of the field, after halfway through the course, on leaving Sudbury we ran into (literally into) a large group of runners from the SVP50. This added to the vibe and atmosphere and gave us all plenty of opportunity to chat away the miles and take out mind off the run.

(2017) It dawned on me that I entered the SVP100 with preconceptions. Incorrect expectations even. I had the mind set of “I did the RTTS in 11 and a half hours, I’ll beat that time here”. Wrong. Different race, different place. No two are the same as I was about to find out. I realised that the course was flatter (I think) than the RTTS so without noticing I’d spent more time running and less time walking and recovering. I’d exerted myself more and thus tired sooner.

(2018) No preconceptions this year. I knew the race was tough. I knew the challenge it would bring. I did however learn once again that it is probably tougher than I think. It is a very very flat course with minimal elevation gain (just c 2,000ft) over the 100km. Whilst that means there are few hills to force you to walk, rest and eat, it also means you are for long stretches running and using the same muscle groups. The fatigue is more noticeable!

(2017) I also didn’t adapt as I ran. One example that came back to hurt me after the race was when I felt some discomfort in my back, something had shifted in my pack and instead of stopping and addressing it, I decided to continue to the next checkpoint to sort it out, some 7 miles later. Mistake, I was in agony for days afterwards and it was only two months later on a holiday that a friend (qualified physio) noticed the lump in my back and massaged it out!

(2018) History almost repeated itself here. Once again I felt something in my back. My hydration system was causing me hassle (sometime after the 4^th Checkpoint). This was the first time I’d experienced it. Whilst I was too stubborn to address it straightaway, I did eventually sort it out before it was too late. I decided to drink all the water and remove the bladder. There was some discomfort as a result from the content of the bag but I’m not expecting any lasting pain this time round!

(2017) Later in the day I met Chris shortly after the half way checkpoint. We ended up sticking together for the rest of the course, both tiring and relying on each other to get through what was left.

(2018) Well you know what happened here! I met him before the start and crossed the line with him! Impressively Chris received his 5 Star black t-shirt this day!

(2017) Come the final check point the sun was setting and the temperature dropping. we’d slowed to a hobble and decided that we were both happy to walk the final 4 miles (it was probably faster than we were running at this point).

(2018) The final checkpoint was a little demon for me. I didn’t want a repeat of last year. I wanted to know how we went wrong and to run it in the day light. We reached the checkpoint with the sky starting to darken. An attentive Pierre refilled my bottles, received a sweaty hug and sent us off on our way. The last five miles were covered in day light, with what felt like a strong pace and desire to get to the finish. There were no wrong turns this year but I still couldn’t understand how we ended up going so wrong last year!

(2017) Eventually we reached the finish to a great welcome from the volunteers still working through the night.

(2018) The finish didn’t feel like an “eventually” thing this year but an “inevitable”. We started together, and we finished together. We came in just under 13hrs, a target I had in my mind before we set off. This couldn’t have gone any more to plan!

fbf8987c-d890-4525-a757-9de67b489512 — Start Together, Finish Together

On reflection, 2018 was more enjoyable than 2017. Not because of the faster time, the better feel of the run, but because of the company. It is so corny to say it, but it makes a difference. I enjoy running, but I’m not competing with anyone (the winner popped a sub 9hr time!!!). The achievement is the completion and the journey you take to get there. It is such an amazing thing to share with someone and I enjoyed every moment of the day spent with Chris and Ged. It was challenging, it was tough, but together we got through it. At different points in the day we all felt great and we all felt low (I hit a particular dark place just before we reached 30miles), but the camaraderie of each other dragged us out of those holes each time.

Besides those two, there were a plethora of familiar faces around the course. From Matthew (the race Director), Mark Parry (whom we ran with shortly after checkpoint two before I vanished into the distance), Steve Skinner who came bounding past with a smile on his face later in the race, Clair on the SVP50 who was fighting her own battles and wining, Pierre the bearded wonder manning the final checkpoint, Lenny who popped up in a field with his camera at hand to snap some race photos and also James Poole who I got to meet for the first time – whom casually popped out a 50km after smashing the NDW100 last week and then preceded to appear at every single checkpoint supporting through the 25+ Advent Runners out on the course! (not to mention those familiar faces of Coren, Dan and Sophie who I didn’t get to see on the day).

The memories of last year came flooding through thick and fast as I recalled the wrong turns we took, where something happened, where I met chris and so on. The corn field I remembered so vividly was missing though, nothing but a waste land of spikey bastard foliage this year. A shame. Chris was determined not to get us lost this year and expertly navigated us through the course with the occasional subtle acceptance of “off course” before we strayed too far in the wrong direction.

The one concern I took away was the amount of chaffing and discomfort I experienced in this race. My inner thighs, my waist, my nipples, my watch rubbing on my wrist and the awkwardness of my bladder in my pack all raised concerns in my mind. They were dealt with, but I don’t understand why these all caused me hassle that I’ve mostly never experienced before. A slight concern I need to think about before the CCC!

Towards the end of the race, as the comments of “not far to go2 and “Last mile” were muttered by passers-by, I knew we could stil achieve that sub 13hr. It was meaningless really and second to us all finishing together. But the determination we all pulled out to step up and rise to the challenge was incredible. Crossing the line together was the finishing touch to the achievement and personal victories!

My final thoughts, the SVP100 is tough. Very tough. You get 4 UTMB qualifying points from this race and they are very much earnt! You run endlessly, the terrain is hard and uneven (not rocky, ridgeway uneven, but dried mud uneven) and your legs take a pounding. I definitely ache more after this event than many of the others I do. Don’t under estimate the Stour Valley Path!

Kit I wore:

Salomon Slab Ultras
Montane Via Fang Zip / Wild Trail Runners T-shirt
Montane Razor 15 Pack
Inov 8 All Terrain Cap
Puma Split 5″ shorts

Race to the King 2018

Published on June 24, 2018June 24, 2018 by runwithdai3 Comments

Yesterday I ran the Race to the King trail run, part of the Threshold Trail Series. I’m getting straight on the blogging for this one as I’m finding that not only do I very quickly forget most of the run (probably through exhaustion) but that I’m needing to beat the runners-low which will inevitably kick in soon (more on that in a separate post to come).

The day started off with a super-early 4:30am alarm and I did not respond well. I was not interested in waking up and running all day, not yet anyway. What annoyed me most was, the first thing I could feel as I woke was that I’d developed a cold sore. Yep, I’m a carrier. I hate these bastards. They come out of nowhere. Always overnight and the make you feel disgusting and grim. It put me in a bad mood to start. Alas, I had a job to do. A couple of trains and a bus later and I’m pulling up to the starting village in Gaston Farm.

I was initially due to be in the first wave at 8am, but due to the summer train times and and a revised shuttle service, I was moved to the second wave at 8:15. I knew what to expect and was ready to go, all I needed was to fill my water bottles and bladder, drop my bag off and get that nervous piss out. The bus dropped me off at 7:55 and I was ready by 8:05. To my luck the first wave was just setting off, so I tagged on in at the back and as I did I saw some familiar faces. There was Tom and Derrick who I’ve met a few times, Elisa who I’ve also crossed paths with from time to time but never managed to say more than a passing hello to and to new faces in Anneka and Kelly (who welcomed me to the gang with a huge hug!). We were off.

The route immediately led us through a gate into the wideness of the South Downs. It was early, sunny and hot. It was going to be a long day. And I’d forgotten my sunglasses and, in my haste to start I hadn’t lubed up either. A runner’s error! I had a brief moment to chat to the guys over the first two miles as we thread pretty much single file along the paths before hitting the first of many hills to come. It was long, but not steep so I kept on plodding upwards. Before I’d realised I’d pulled away from the rest of the group and hadn’t said my goodbyes nor wished them happy paths. Doh. Onward I continued.

In my head I had a goal. Two weeks previously I finished the Race to the Tower Race to the Tower 2018 in 10 hours and 40 mins. This was a similar distance race but slightly hillier route, so I thought I might be able to run this one in under 10 hours through less longer walks, less time at pit stops and a slightly faster start. So I kept going. I soon got chatting to a guy called Jack who was with a group of others and he too was looking for a similar time to finish. Our time running together didn’t last long though as he found some supporters waiting to cheer him on. Together though we did run a section of the route that was trails through forest paths, the type of course I’m really growing to love. The shade, the variety, the colours of the trees and the sun breaking through. I love it. Apart from all the flies! There were alot of flies out on the South Downs yesterday!

The first two checkpoints came and went fairly quickly. With them they brought another two climbs, one of which was quickly following a short down hill stretch just after the 10 mile mark. Then, 5 miles later we encountered what I dubbed the ‘foot fucker’. There was a steep down hill followed by an immediate climb back up, both about 300ft of elevation. The down hill was steep and the ground was rocky and loose. I’m not sure how big stones need to be classified as ‘rocks’ but these were hefty. They would hurt if you were to kick them. Add this to the general un-evenness of the ground and the gravity and momentum of the run and it was quite frightening. The speed you are running with increases, you are looking down at your footings, simultaneously trying to plot your path down whilst grimacing at each rock that pierces your sole and each bashing your toes take as they crush forward in your shoes. There were a few unhappy faces at this point. And it continues as you power back up the incline.

Towards the top of the climb there were a lot of spectators sitting down, enjoying the views with the picnics. Cheering on the runners as they climbed slowly to the top. One of them was more devious than the rest. I man sitting in a camping chair at the top slowly pulled out his large camera to reveal himself as one the official course photographers. There was laughter from the crowd as I called him a bastard and started playing up for his pleasure. He was probably the most hated man on the South Downs that day.

What the Camera shows on Social Media

The reality behind it

The next few miles saw some undulating paths through a varied terrain before a short climb through the forest to Winchester Hill and an amazing view. The checkpoint just after the summit was the 23 mile mark. The Basecamp. Halfway (almost) there. A bit of a mental bashing to be at the basecamp but not quite being halfway to the finish. 30 Miles to go is not quite a distance you can break down in one chunk like saying “just a marathon to go”. It doesn’t work that way. As per the Race to the Tower I didn’t stop for the cooked food. Chowing down on Chocolate and Watermelon (not something I normally eat!) and changing my T-shirt before I was off again.

The checkpoints were, for a short time, now closer together than before. With less than 6 miles to the next stop it was easier to compartmentalise the run into smaller chunks. and the next part, winding through Queen Elizabeth Country park was fairly easy going. Refreshed from the basecamp stop the route was fairly down hill and continued along the lowest elevation of the course until pit stop 4. But what goes down must go back up and before hitting the checkpoint there was another large climb to come. Tactically I’d been consistent on the course, eating on all the ups to ensure I kept fuelled along the way.

Arriving at the pit stop I continued to do what I’d done at all of the others. Besides using the toilet when I could and knocking back a few cups of Coke, I took out my “food bag” and proceeded to fill it with goods that caught my attention. That’s right. This time I brought a bag to collect food as I ran!! I know. It doesn’t make sense. But I’m a greedy bastard. It was the forth checkpoint and my bag was now full. and I still had about 20 miles to run! The other thing to note at this pit stop was that I was chaffing! Damn, I’d come to regret not lubing up with the Bodyglide in my haste to start. Right between the legs I had two lovely red-raw patches of glory. Great. Lube on, too little too late.

Plodding onward the rest of the course has become a blur to my memory. What I do recall is as I caught up with other runners, to my surprise there were very few who wanted to chat, never mind even acknowledge my “hellos”. This was disappointing as I’ve always found the camaraderie on the trails to be great. Who were chatty though were the people met along the route. Everyone is always so happy in cheering you on and commenting on the run. What I’ve found great is the response to these interactions. In particular the question of “am I winning?” always goes down a treat and generates some laughter. That and ‘play-acting’ and running funny in response to their comments. You have to have some fun along the way, no matter how much it hurts!

There was another guy of note. Who’ll I’ll always remember as the ‘spray-mist guy’. he was everywhere. I must have seen him about 5 or 6 times along the later part of the course. Including once as he appeared from a pub garden with the shout “alright mate?! want some more?!”. I had a good laugh with him each time. He’d rocked up with a garden water pump and was willing spraying each and every runner who wanted a quick cool down. Whoever you are, thank you. For the spray and for the entertainment and support!

I blasted through Pit stop 5, only stopping to ram some more food into my bag! and I was soon approaching Pit stop 6, which would be about 10 miles from the end. This pit stop was supposedly only water and hydration as it was only 3 miles to the final pit stop. But what a welcome they were rolling out for the runners. They could see me approaching in the distance and the cowbells and cheering began in earnest. By the time I reached them there was great noise from the volunteers and to my surprise a range of goods on offer, alas, my bag was stuffed! I did stop though and filled my bladder. My thoughts were I’d refill my bottles at the last check point and what was let in my bladder would be my reserve water just in case. I also realised leading up to it that I had a stone in my shoe that would need removing. Foot fixed I carried on. A few hundred meters down the road though I had to stop again as somehow I seemed to have introduced more stones into my shoe than I’d taken out. For a short time afterwards I ran with a chap called Matt who’d set out quite fast and was now feeling it a little. We soon parted and the final Pit stop loomed ahead.

RTTK4 As I arrived there was yet again a strong welcome from the team at the pit stop. It helped being the only one there at the time. They filled my bottles as I noshed down some orange slices and checked the football scores they’d conveniently drawn up on the chalkboard. I probably spent too long at the checkpoint chatting but I felt good. and I was off again. The last section….

Throughout the run I’d been keeping an eye on my average pace. I was trying to run an average of 11 min miles and I was pretty much bang on. It’s quite tough over such a long distance to run this way as, with each period of walking, you have to run faster than the average for a much longer duration to keep on track. And those hills and pit stops very quickly pull the average down! I then made the mistake (not really but often feels wrong to do it) of switching the screens on my Garmin and seeing what the time was and how long I’d bee running. I had about 63 minutes left to get a sub 10 hour time. There were around (probably just under) 7 miles to go. It would be tight. At the average pace I wouldn’t make it, but I knew the last section was predominantly downhill. All I needed to do was keep moving. Keep running. I was going for it.

There were a few small hills that needed walking and one biggish one that played on my mind as it felt like I was walking for a long time. I kept going though. The running at this point became a process. The fun was gone. I was chasing times again. I don’t like it when I get competitive like this, I forget why I run. The enjoyment I get from it. It gets hard. Throughout this stretch though I passed quite a few other runners. Each one becoming a target in the distance that I chased down and passed (including Rachel who wen’t on to finish as third female, amazing!). There were markers for 2 miles to go and final mile. Each time I calculated the time, I was doing this. without hills or walking I’d come in well under 10 hours. Before I knew it I’d entered the town of Winchester and was running around the roads surrounding the Cathedral. Rounding the corner the Winchester Cathedral towered over me. Camera in my face I acted like a dick again. Bounding down the stairs and over the finish line. 9 hours 49mins on the clock. A big smile on my face.

Race to the Tower 2018

Published on June 11, 2018 by runwithdai4 Comments

Cotswolds Way

Last year I ran the Race To The Stones as my first real trail event. As I look back, I loved it. Besides the trail and the day and event itself, I loved how well Threshold Trail Series had organised it. Besides the stones they organise a Race to the Tower and Race to the King trail series. So I signed up to the other two (ok ok I also wanted the ‘free’ hoody!).

I’ll ignore the training for this run as, like the last few months my training has all been unstructured and just involved running when I feel like it, no pressure. Just running. A lot of running. What I will mention though is the logistics. Threshold Trail Series put on a number of shuttle bus services for their events, however for the Race to the Tower, the services weren’t what I expected. In short, I couldn’t easily get to the start and, once finished, there was no transport to the nearest train station. So to my annoyance I had to book accommodation nearby the night before and (being a tommy-tight-pants) predict my finish time and book a train (an taxi to the station) at the end.

The night before the race I stayed a few miles away in the village of Stonehouse. A picturesque little place on the Cotswolds Way. The room was in a characteristic looking pub. That should have been my first learning! Don’t book a bed in the only pub in the village the night before an ultra. The local Friday night ‘Sparta’ wannabes were out in their numbers. This was Stonehouse. Not Sparta. No matter how many times they screamed the quote from the movie ‘300’ the joke never got old. And I never got to sleep…

I woke early on the morning, had my breakfast and jumped in the taxi to the start. I collected my gear (Hoody and Tshirt for doing more than one of the series) and I was good to go. The race director was hyping up the first wave, we had our briefing and instructions, given insight into the 160 gates/stiles and landmarks awaiting us on the run. Then we were off.

Single filing through he first few gates I soon spotted Ged. Someone I’d been chatting to on Instagram. We said hello and started chatted as we ran. The short story of a long story is that we ended up running 33 miles together! That’s a good 6 or so hours of running and chatting so you can imagine we covered a lot of topics along our journey. For me this is the perfect example of the community of running on the trails. You meet people and get to know them, sharing everything along the way. You don’t get that road running!

The first section of the course was, I felt, fairly flat with a few lil’ hills. All very runnable I thought. Within what felt like no time at all we were at checkpoint one, it was about 5 miles in to the course. Ged’s family had come up with him but weren’t at the checkpoint as expected. As he was joking that they were probably still asleep and now in his bad books, across a golf course his kids came bounding. Sweaty hugs dished out, we carried on and were soon welcomed with more of a hill. I challenged the hills. They didn’t seem all that big to me. It would be something I’d repeat over and over. “Call these hills?!”. Checkpoint two also soon came about and the first very much anticipated dose of flat coke. You just can’t fault it on an ultra! As expected, the volunteers at each checkpoint were awesome and upbeat. Threshold really do such a great job. I new this, I knew the checkpoints would be stacked not only with enthusiasm, but with treats and goodies everywhere. And I was taking advantage, I was collecting an unnecessary amount of food at each checkpoint. I knew I’d do this. I can’t resist being a greedy bastard.

With each subsequent climb we were treated to amazing views of the Cotswolds. Having someone to chat to makes such a difference and we both felt strong as we happily ran between the inclines and hiked to the view points. Such a good time we were having that we were physically having to remind each other to eat and drink. Checkpoint three came and went and the heat of the day increased as we approached midday. It was getting very hot and very very sweaty. The heat wasn’t helped by the humidity of running through so many ‘forest’ paths. I hadn’t realised that the course would be this diverse and was loving running amongst the trees. Except, I kept rolling my left ankle. After the first few times it started to get very annoying. This was the downside of tree roots and the uneven-rocky path. It was beginning to frustrate me and I started to verbalise it as it did actually hurt each time. My mind was soon distracted though as Basecamp was approaching and the oportunity for a slightly longer rest.

We opted to avoid the full base-camp experience, and instead of going to the full on food court and pasta and taco buffet just to grab some food from the ‘run-through’ pitstop set up for the non-stop runners. Whilst Ged spent time with his family, I stocked-up (overloaded my bag more like) on the free food and changed my T-shirt from my Evossi Elevate to WTR Salomon agile. I’d always planned to do this for a bit of a mental boost. I love the Elevate. It’s so functional. But with the heat, the thinner Agile T would be much quicker drying. Something I’d welcome in this heat.

Re-fuelled we ploughed on and I soon rolled my ankle again. Ged suggested getting it strapped. A wise idea. At the next check point (number 5, beautifully contained within a barn!!) I asked the medic for assistance. Knowing strapping wouldn’t stop me rolling it, it would give me the pseudo-effect needed. My mind would be a little more at ease feeling the tape on the ankle. James happily obliged, strapped me up and gave me some sun cream also! Back out we went.

We’d overheard that the elevation of the second marathon was a bit different to the first, and it was true. There were less inclines in the second half, but the four hills we needed to climb were bigger. A good 500ft elevation on each. With one done, as we hit mile 33, I was feeling good and kept running. Me and Ged said our goodbyes and I continued onwards. As the miles ticked down, I realised I needed a Paula. Yep, a Radcliffe. It was the focus I needed to keep running. I knew there would be a pit stop within the next 4 miles or so so I didn’t stop. But neither did my gut. It was getting touch and go when the Checkpoint 6 popped into sight. Running through the gate I was heading straight for the portaloo!!

What a weight lifted. Literally. Is stocked up on water, Reloaded the isotonics, stashed yet Suns Out even more free food and was back on it. Now alone, my thoughts started wandering into competition mode. With the acceptance that the course was now less undulating, more flats between the hills, I wanted to run. So I did. As long as I felt good I set out with the intention to run between the hills. I also had one eye on finishing with enough time to relax before my taxi was due. I also wanted a shower badly. The amount of sweat was, well, stinky.

I felt strong though and passed a lot of runners. Chatting to many before carrying on my way. Before I knew it there was just a half marathon to run. A very doable chunk. It all becomes a blur at this point, but I do remember the amazing tree. The Purple one and the desolate looking one behind it. What a sight! The trees on this route were something else.

Trees

Pit stop 7 came about and with it came the best flat coke. The best. I don’t think it could have been flatter nor warmer. I couldn’t get enough. I think I had five cups. A chat with the girls holding the fort (huge shouts to the girl, whose name I forget, who came down from Scotland to volunteer!!). I was surprised, but chuffed, to see a sign saying 5 miles to go. It felt like there should be longer left to overcome. This last stretch was all down hill then flat before the final mile all uphill to the tower. So really I had about 4 miles to run! This realisation was a massive boost. I set off passing more runners along the paths before rocking up in the town of Broadway. The locals were all out in good support (in fairness everyone encountered throughout the day was brilliant!) and I shared a few laughs with those enjoying a some drinks on the high street as I played up to their cheers. I’ve always got some energy to interact with people along the way. It just puts a smile on your face!

Field of Sheep I entered the final fields, the final hills. Sheep everywhere. Only one way to go. Up. Straight up. And up I went. There was one more person in front of me someway up the hill. I soon caught up with them though as they stopped for a rest. Checking they were ok and good to finish, I carried on. Rising up through the last gate to be welcomed by claps and cheering, the cowbells ringing and the locals cheering me on for the last few hundred feet. round the last turn and into the finishing zone. I was done. A double marathon and over 7,000ft of elevation gain complete. it was time for shit food and a baby-wipe shower.

Job done. To the tower I ran.

Finisher

Looking back at the splits, I positioned 64th on the first 26 miles and 16th on the second half. A good indication of how much stronger I ran the later part. To say I’m happy with that is an understatement!.

Helsinki City Marathon

Published on May 21, 2018 by runwithdai4 Comments

Sunset

This must be the furthest I’ve travelled for such a short period of time just to go for a run. I arrived into Helsinki at midnight on a Friday, ran the marathon the next day and flew back out on Sunday. My thoughts were that by running the marathon I’d get to see a fair bit of the city to know where I’ll come back too!

The story didn’t start here though. Back in 2017, Sandra got in touch off the back of one of my Instagram post of my 2018 races. Sandra and I briefly worked together back at the Energy Saving Trust around 2009. We didn’t work closely together, nor really know each other too well, but we did bond over a mutual appreciation of the ‘first nuclear powered South Korean’ – Park Ji-Sung. It was as simple as that. Some 9 months later and we’d both left and other than an occasional message here and there, that was that.

So when Sandra got in touch she basically said she’d like to join and run one of the races with me. Amazing!! We settled on Helsinki (neither of us had visited before) and a plan was set.

Over the months leading up to the weekend we chatted and reminisced. Or tried too. We realised how little we knew of each other and our lives and also that, back when we did know each other, neither of us had any prior passions or interested. But here we were, reunited by individual passions for running that we’d since discovered.

Sandra’s journey to Finland was somewhat more complex than mine. Living in South Africa she needed a visa. She was also pending a move to Canada and was visiting family in the UK beforehand. So we met and flew together from Gatwick. On the way back she’s also be going back to South Africa to visit family. I on the other hand had it easy, fly out of and into Gatwick.

We arrived late Friday, getting to the apartment for about 00:30 on Saturday. Thankfully the race didn’t start till 3pm (I don’t understand why!!). So we had time to wake early, walk to the start, explore the expo and collect our kits. The registration was very simple and, due to last minute injuries, Sandra was able to swap to the 5km run rather than the marathon.

Pre Race — Dougie representing. Don’t ask

We decided to get some coffee and explore Helsinki. A few hours of walking around made us question two things. What is in Helsinki and where are all the people?! Other than some Asian food markets and cruise ships in the port, it was a ghost town! So back to the apartment we went to eat and relax.

Race time cane about pretty quickly. We had to go our separate ways due to different

start locations and arranged to meet at the finish line, where I was also starting. A quick walk over, dumped the bags (and sparkling water I’d mistakenly bought, yuk!!) and we were invited to line up in the road.

There was a great atmosphere at the race village as it was bubbling with activity from the half marathon which had just finished. Loss of spectators and runners lining the streets and the MCs were on good form gearing up the crowd.

We set off. I had a plan. I was intended to run 8min miles consistently to get a 3:30 finish time. There are a few reasons here. Firstly, in three weeks I have another ultra. Secondly, I have a few niggles in my feet which were concerning me (that pain since Brighton still!). And thirdly, the demons from Limassol are still there. But that’s for another time. As I set off I quickly changed tact. I decided 7:50min/miles would be my pace.

It was a good challenge. To stop me racing. To focus my mind. To help me enjoy the day. It isn’t as easy as it sounds though. I felt good. I wanted to run harder. I wanted my space and didn’t like being crowded in. I also wanted to compete when people over took me. It was a case of constantly checking my pace and adapting. I was constantly aware and constantly thinking of my pace.

The course started off at the national stadium and we headed our towards Vanha and along the roads. There were water stations almost imminently. Damn cups. This again. I stopped. I knew I’d always have to stop to drink now. So I did. Each water station though had Sportyfeel isotonic and water. I took both. And carried on. There were a few little hills to deal with. Hilly enough that many runners were walking them, but nothing I’m not used to!! It wasn’t long before we hit some trails and paths in Lehtisaari Lovo as we started crossing some of the islands. In around the second park was an ice zone. Volunteers with ice spray no made a mental note to stop on the second lap.

We crossed several little bridges which offered amazing views of Helsinki. My mind was changing. I felt now I was seeing Helsinki. And from this aspect it’s beautiful. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was full of energy and trying to contain it. We continued through the streets of Lauttasaari Drumso

I needed the toilet though. It was on my mind. Then soon at a water station manned by clowns. A little scary! There were portaloos. Perfect. But, once I emerged, the road was heaving!! Runners everywhere. The 3:30 pace group had caught me up. And there were loads of them. Not just runners. But pacers no counted 6 pacers with 3:30 on their vests. All running together. Completely unnecessary. Why?!! Spread them out surely. I had to sprint and weave to break free of the crowd and avoid getting stressed by the them all!

As we reached the part of Kaivopuisto Brunnsparken. There was a lot of activity. People in parks, lining the streets cheering and supporting. As always I made sure I acknowledged and thanked each and everyone of them. I had the energy to spare to clap and cheer. We reached Kaartinkaupunk, near where we walked in the morning, I recognised runners coming the other way. It was sometime before I eventually hit the turning point. At this stage I was running in sync with another guy. We’d be running together for a while and He looked strong and I sensed we were likely to stay together for sometime.

We were heading back to the city. A loop we wouldn’t need to replicate second time round. We reached an underpass that was a maze of of tape and directions. We’d been here once before and were now directed in a different direction. There were also signs for the 5km run and the second lap of the marathon.

Coming up out of the under path we were in an open public space filled with locals cheering and supporting. Such an uplifting moment. I was racing ahead of my time and needed to reign it back in. We then ran along a path passing under all the main roads. Filled with street art and passers by. The guy I was running with pulled off to go to the toilet and that would be the last time I’d see him.

I enjoyed this section of the race. It was shaded and varied. You emerged into the ‘Garmin PowerZone’. The what?! Hardly a PowerZone. It had some young girls with Pom poms cheering. Riiiiight. I cheered back and carried on. I soon recognised the road, we were near the start. So nearing lap two. We’d done over half a mararhon at this point I think. Coming along the final straight to the finish were more supporters who I cheered and hi-fived and continued on for lap two.

I won’t go into the details here, it was the same as lap 1 just not the whole loop. I was eagerly anticipating the ice spray though so I stopped when it found it. It wasn’t as good as I hoped. Yes it was cold, but it just left my legs sticky.

I was full of energy and could easily have run so much faster. I was conscious of my target though and was on average 1 second per mile too fast. So I had to slow down. I was overtaking so many Runners. As a tactic it was clearly paying off in terms of racing. Slow and steady!! I passed people I saw way back ahead of me in the other direction of lap one. One woman had her partner running with her, cheering and encouraging her. She looked in pain as I passed them both and clapped him. There was also a street full of kids where I had great fun getting the hi-fives out. I always find I run faster after a burst of crowd enthusiasm!!

Before I knew it we were back at the underpass of directions. Shorter route this time. I was still feeling so strong. The challenge really was slowing down. I was still slightly ahead of my target pace. There was an elderly chap nearby with a 100+ marathon club t-shirt, he was on my mind. The admiration. The thought of the sheer amount of effort and dedication to hit that many. And how strong he was running. ‘I could have him’ I thought. I don’t want to finish behind an old geezer. Not my target though. Not today. I did speed up through the “PowerZone” taking the piss and mocking the cheerleaders and on into the tunnel of street art. A small kid (practically a toddler) with his father. The kid jumped off his scooter and started running. The old chap loved it. I loved it. The kid loved it. We were all cheering and clapping him along as he sprinted passed us. He kept going until a grumpy marshal stopped him. A bit unnecessary I thought.

The finish came up pretty quickly after that. I was slowing even more to hold my target pace. All those around me were also slowing, I assume more so through fatigue. We rounded the corner into the stadium. A short sprint across the turf to the finish. Some cheers from the crowd. I played up to the camera (not for the first time!). Puffing out the cheeks. Over the line and job done.

Dai 19

Time for the goodies. First up, Ice spray. I got it all over my lower body. Next, coffee.

Yes!!! It was good. I had a long chat to the lovely lady serving. I got some water and went back for another coffee. Finishing picture taken, up next cake the goodie-bag. It was empty. Fill your own. Yes!!! Here we go. I got plenty of Water, Chocolate corn bars, Wasabi puffs, Raisins, Yogurts, Recovery milk drink, Icecream and Non alcoholic beer. I was pretty happy with that haul! Helsinki, you did good!!

Brecon Beacons Ultra Trail

Published on May 8, 2018May 8, 2018 by runwithdai5 Comments

This event was the first I’ve done as a result of social media shortly after I discovered Instagram and decided on my running challenges for 2018, A post by @lil_em_loves_to_run sparked my interest…

It would was to serve as a good training/baseline to kickstart my training for the Alps later in the year. The run was sold as a 32 mile ultra with a ‘strenuous ‘ difficulty rating. What does that even mean? Who cares, it was £55 which I think is damn cheap. I booked it and pretty much ignored it as it was so far in the future. Sometime later my sister was talked into signing up for the half Marton as part of the event. That would be fun with her.

May soon arrived I’d planned to do some hill training, but I hadn’t. I generally felt good, although I was intimidated by the elevation and climbs. I needed to experience some hills though. My parents had arranged to come up for the night so we all stayed in a hotel in Talgarth the night before and they’d be waiting at the finish line along with my sister. This would be the first time my family had joined me for a run, and also the first have done in my home country! The hotel had a tiny chip shop attached to it, so we prepped with some greasy fish and chips and a beer, got an early night and I headed down to the start to register at 6:30am.

Race T collected, number 39 for the day. Despite the predicted warm temperatures, it was very cold at that time so I’d layered up to keep warm. Soon I was spotted by Camilla and Dorota from the Cool Catz group. These cats get everywhere. It was the first time I’d met Dorota, she would also be running the ultra and Camilla the marathon (crazy cat had signed up just one week ago). We listened to the race briefing, From which I took “you’ll go up Corn Du” 3 times and “you don’t need the wet gear from the mandatory kitlist”, I had no choice at that point but to carry what I’d brought. The only other thing of note here was that the half marathon was actually 15.5 miles my sister would kill me when she discovered this!

Outside we went, a quick photo of the cool cats and we were off. Dorota and I started off together at the back, chatting and getting to know one another. The race started in Gileston farm in Talybont-on-usk and we headed out on the Taff Trail heading out towards the Talybont Reservoir. After about 4km we came across the first checkpoint, I thought this was a little early in the race, but it was also served in the kother distances so I’m sure the half and 10k runners would have appreciated it more than I did! We didn’t stop. Very soon after though we were upon the reservoir. A very picturesque scene indeed and many runners stopped to take pictures. This actually helped thin the crowds out a little bit!

We carried on along the Beacons Way (parallel to the TaffTrail Trail) and continued along side the reservoir which presented us with some incredible views. As we reached the end, probably around 6 miles in, I said my goodbyes to Dorota and we continued on at

our own pace. I spent some time briefly chatting with a group of guys running together and we shared some stories before shortly after I hit the second checkpoint. They carried on but I I stopped for some coke, Yes, and a few jelly beans and continued onwards. At this point the ultra and marathon routes headed left, with the half marathon turning right to loop around the reservoir back to the start. I stopped to capture a picture of this sign, there was no ice cream. They lied. Briefly we were back on the Taf Trail before heading across fields towards the Beacons Way again. All around us were spectacular views of the mountains and the uncertainty of not knowing which we’d have to climb! I passed the guys again and carried onwards, smiling away and sing my little song that I had on loop in my head that went “gonna shit in a portal, dum dum, gonna shit in a portal, dum dum”. I don’t know why, and I don’t know to what tune, but it made me smile.

The path at this point was covered with trees and fresh smells, we were heading towards Rain Gauge and the old Filter House which is where we’d turn left, toward the first climb. We cossed the Taf Fechan and the climb was in sight. It was steep. I could see people going up all the way, runners and hikers. Out came my poles. This was the first time I’d used poles. I brought them to try out ready for the CCC. Mine are the highly rated Black Diamond carbon z. And damn they were light. I wore them horizontally across my back in a Salomon Pulse waistband. I hardly felt them. ‘Poling’ upwards I chatted to a lady from Leicester about her trips to the Beacons as a child and her running adventures. We got to the top, passed the tourists and off she went. I spent a few minutes thumbling with the poles and made a mental note to put them away just before I summit next time. I was now stuck in a narrow single file track, occasionally having the space to overtake. The views were beautiful. Ridgeway everywhere. Looking down on the gauge we really were being spoilt up high as we traversed the Craig Fan Ddu towards Corn Du.

Arriving at Corn Du it was getting busy with tourists, and the heat was getting intense. A picture of the Welsh flag and a sharp hairpin turn, it was time to go back down from Corn Du

Bwlch Duwynt. Now this was fun. Loads of people walking up, and me, free running down. I was smiling. I was humming and bumbling tunes out as I skipped and jumped all the little breaks in the path, weaving my way through the crowds and thanking the occasional cheer and supporter. I say it was fun, within a minute, I could feel the burn in the quads, and the pain of the impact in each ankle. I soon wished it to be over. I was overtaken by this dude who was flying down! When we reached the bottom and checkpoint 3 I commented so. He laughed, said the uphill were the problem. I stocked up on water, had some crisps and sweets, joked with the volunteers and headed off again, with a toilet stop in the public toilets I was good to go.

The route briefly followed the road before we turned back in on the paths and it was time to head up towards Corn Du again. We started off heading up, then briefly back down before the climb started properly and the poles came back out. I passed the down hill sprinter and joked that I’d see him on the next downhill (I did!) And up I went. This time I was huffing and puffing. Sweating like a bitch and I could feel the ache in my arms from using the poles. I was drinking a lot to combat the exhaustion and heat. The top looked and age away, and then I noticed the runners doing another sharp hair pin, we weren’t going completely to the top this time, as it was yet again time to descend. I took a moment to enjoy the views again and started chating to a guy from Wrexham doing his first ultra. We ran together and we’re soon in a little group of runners descending down Llyn Cwm Llwch. Most of them got ahead of me on the down hills. I was finding this tough and coming to the conclusion that I’m not that strong on the downs. I could feel my body fighting the gravity and I must have been afraid to relax into the ‘fall’ , the uneven terrain was a fear for me. We carried on along Cwm Llwch, getting closer and closer to ground level.

As we reached the village of Modrydd there would be a stretch along public roads. Narrow roads. This was undulating and I could see many runners walking the little inclines. I kept telling myself I’d go so far then walk also, but I kept moving the goalposts, deciding that I was fairly strong on this type of road and I’d keep going, racing, putting some distance between me and those who were stronger on the down hills. Rounding the turn at Three Rivers Ride, it was another steep incline to a car park (start of another public path), there was a runner sitting at the bottom changing his socks, he laughed as I looked up and said “fuck that” and started walking. At the top, Checkpoint 4. This was a biggy, checkpoint 5 was 15kms away, with only a emergency water at the top of Pen Y Fan. I filled the bladder and bottles, ate some stuff and moved on. I made some videos to share on Instagram to occupy my mind as I looked up at the biggest climb of the race, Pen Y Fan loomed in the distance. I looked at my watch, I’d been running for 4hrs and 20mins at this point. I was curious how long it would take to walk.

I was huffing and puffing away, occasionally chatting to other runners and hikers as I powered up. I thought we’d reached the top at one point and had a little run, but to my annoyance we were barely half way, ahead of me it was even steeper than before. I Pen Y Fan Halfway

dipped into the babybel stash, I needed a salty pickme up. I was also conscious now that I was out of electrolytes. For some reason I didn’t bring any additional ones with me. I don’t know why. I no longer had the tasty escape from just plain old water. I wanted coke. Checkpoint 5 was a long way away. Nearing the top I had to scramble. Hands and knees over big rocky steps. I was there.

At the top of Pen Y Fan, the views were spectacular. I first sat and chatted to two hikers as I caught my breadth. Then I wandered around the top taking some pictures. Unexpectedly I could hear my name being called. What the…. It was Camilla! We hugged and laughed and enjoyed the views together before setting off down the Beacons Way away gain towards Fan Y Big. I was running and enjoying and I felt bad, I’d forgotten to say good by to Camilla, I looked back up and waved, she didn’t see me. I carried on, more down hill, but, in my mind, the last down hill, or so I thought. Before Fan Y Big, we turned off the main paths, we were going to go up again. I felt cheated. I accepted I’d misinterpreted the instructions at registration, running up to Corn Du three times did not mean only 3 hills to run. Stupid me. Oh well, up again I went up Craig Cwareli.

I passed two guys having a break and would see them again at the top when I decided to walk for a bit. We shared some chat about poles and equipment and I fell in line behind them as we ran the rocky ridgeway. It was tough underfoot, then the guy in front rolled his ankle and and yelled in pain. We stopped. He was alright, annoyed more than anything. I carried on out front. Then it was my turn and I did the same. We decided to walk through it, and enjoy the views.

Eventually the path was good enough to run again, heading along Flordd Las. It was soft and muddy. It was good. I felt stronger on this down hill than all the rest. I think it was the knowledge that the final Checkpoint and the coke I craved was just a few miles away. I could see runners all ahead, like individual targets to chase down and pass. And I did. One by run I sought them out and caught them. Until I got some serious cramp on the inside of my right quad. Normally in races, and earlier in this one, when I get cramp I power through. But this one was worse than I’ve felt before. I had to stop. A runner passed me and offered help to stretch have me, I told him it would be OK and I hobbled on behind him. I then felt so bad when he slipped in the mud and fell in front of me. It was funny to watch but I sensed it hurt and he was annoyed. He refused my assistance too and we carried on.

We crossed through some fields and painful climbed over some stye before the oasis of Checkpoint 5 presented itself. It was busy. We were all grabbing at the coke and sweets. Spirits were high and a lot of thanks to the volunteers were given. I checked, we had 6 kms to go, down hill and along the river. I text my parents, eta somewhere between 30-40 min. Onwards for the last time.

As we headed to Pencelli, where we’d pick up the Taff Trail back to the finish (start) I passed along and chatted to more runners. We were all on the high of knowing it was the final stretch. Along the river I picked some more targets and chased them down. A few would stop to walk and I felt like doing the same. It had been 7 hours. I was fatigued and my mind was ready to give up. I kept fighting the urge to walk. I was on race mode again, unnecessarily not wanting to lose a position in the final standings. Pointless, but that competitiveness kept me going. Up ahead another runner and a little incline as the path split, we were being directed off the path. I had the idea I’d stop st the top and have that walk. Only, I asked how long left a land I was told 300m. This changed my mind. There would be no stopping now!

The final stretch have winded down some farm roads. Plenty of supporters were out clapping and cheering. I clapped and thanked them all, rounding the bend through the car park entrance and to the finish line. I put on my pose, cheeks puffed, arms out and waddled across the line. Past my father and sister and cameras, passed the medals. Then they all called me back. I was in my own world.

I spent some time with my family who’d set up camp with their picnic of food. I went in and ate loads of crisp sweets and chocolate, chatter to runners I’d passed along the final stretch. Talked about the Ballache that was the third climb. Smiled and congratulated each othe. I also spent time getting pictures with my sister and enjoying hearing about her run. I was conscious Camilla could be finishing anytime soon, but it was time to leave. I went to the toilet, grabbed an Icecream, and there she was! I’d just missed her cross the line, I felt bad again!

We had a chat, then we left, she would be hanging around for Dorota who was up on the ridgeway, somewhere before Checkpoint 5.

The journey home was peaceful, I was so tired, but had had such have and around amazing time. I’d learnt around maxing lot, and now my sttention would switch to the next race (the Helsinki Marathon in two weeks) and the summer of ultras that lay ahead.

Brighton Marathon April 2018

Published on April 23, 2018May 14, 2018 by runwithdai4 Comments

Brighton. We’d talked about this one a lot. Not just me and Alex, but most people I know in the running community. It’s a big one. The proximity to London, the coastal route in the famous city. Many runners start out on their marathon journeys here. Many, myself included, use it as a plan B and middle finger to the rejection of London Marathon.

For months now Alex and I have eagerly awaited the marathon. Officially my tenth and his first. The journey was a long anticipated path. Friday before we met for a run and shared our thoughts. Me, I purposely hadn’t tapered. I wanted to be tired and run the race at an “enjoyable” pace. Alex was feeling good. He was well prepared. He’d trained and done everything right. We agreed to run together. A pro and con list of why he should tolerate me for 4 hours. The selling point… I’d be his personal hype man.

Saturday morning and a trip down to Brighton to register and collect the kit. I dropped a t shirt off for some printing and went to check out the start lines whilst I waited for Alex and Amy to arrive. Here lay our first challenge. I’d qualified for the elite start, this was a mile away from the mass start. The idea being a straight down hill into Brighton, by passing the uphill lap around Preston park. Giving the runners a chance to get ahead of the 12,000 others. This wasn’t going to work, with the staggered starting for mass runners I’d probably be well ahead of Alex before we could meet around mile 1-2. We agreed a plan but hoped I could just default to the mass start on the morning.

Heading back to London my foot was hurting. A sharp pain on the outside, slightly underside of my right foot. Great, just what I needed. I did then realise I’d walked a solid 14mikes that day. My legs were going to hate tomorrow.

It’s 5am and the alarm is breaking my slumber. All the usual pre-run activities follow and I’m soon on a rammed train down to Brighton. The atmosphere was building. I arrived at Preston park and smiled. There would be nothing stopping me joining the mass start. The only concern now was my bag, there was no orange bag drop at the mass start. Not one of the volunteers could tell me what/where my bag would end up if I put it in another colour bag drop. I was about to risk it (I’m sure it would have found it’s way safely) when I spotted a table of spare bags of all colours and pens, labels and tape to add your bib number. Genius. Such a great piece of planning by the organisers. Although I can see why, I was amazed how many people had turned up not expecting to use the official bags for the bag drop. Come on guys! Think it through. There is plenty of information, for all events, as to what you can/can’t do!

Bags dropped, Alex found. Time to frequent the urinals and get this started. My tshirt had “hype man” written on it. And I was determined to live up to it. Starting with the urinals. Whopping and cheering Alex as he unloaded. Nerves relieved and the excitement built as we hit the starting pens. A slow walk (few hundred meters) towards the actual start. We couldn’t resist another toilet stop on the way and ended up at the front yellow wave. A prep talk from the marshals and we were cleared to “go”. There were supporters, family and friends, lining the initial few hundred metres. Standing there. Some clapping. Most just silently looking for familiar faces amongst the runners. I was having none of that. As quick as my legs started moving I found my voice “come on Brighton”, “make some noise!”, “woooooo”, “Come on Browner” (as it read on Alex’s tee), “we’re running!” These would be my staple cheers this day. The crowd reacted. The clapping and cheering started, although reluctantly. I realised being a hype man was going to take some effort. But we were off!

The first few miles were fairly quiet. 10k runners coming the opposite way to finish their races. Forest Gump out ahead of us getting plenty of cheers and the crowded narrow streets creating some bottlenecks. Then came the first water station. Paper cups. Hundreds,thousands of them. I grabbed one. Alex had a hydration pack. We continued. You can’t run and drink from the cup at the same time. Specially not with other runners all around you. Fuck it. I just threw it in my own face “Wooooo”. The crowd loved it. They were my goal. Interact with and wind up the crowd. Bring the hype. However I could, I would.

Coming round the corner a recognised a face in the crowd, Emma who I’d recently met through the Cool Cats group. A sound came from my mouth “Yeeeaaahhwwooooooooooo” it went. Just noise, rounding the corner and hitting the crowd with the already faithful “come on Brighton!!” The smallest of reactions. This was harder than I’d thought. We continued out and round before heading east out of Brighton Pier. Already we were noticing the several hills and inclines the route had in store for us. These would be felt at somepoint later on for sure! This stretch was a bit boring. It was long and gradual. Soon enough we were met by the orange and red runners coming the other direction, heading for the halfway mark. It was crowded. There were cones separating the running directions and there was a need to dash around them on several occasions. I saw at least 3 people fall over the cones (you can’t see them with all the crowding). One was quite spectacular, and silly. A guy in front cheering his partner running the other way. As they were both looking behind themselves she stacked it. His reaction was to stop and run back into the crowd of oncoming runners. I thought Alex was going to lose it with him as they came face to face!

Anyway. Boring stretch mostly done we were coming back to the pier. 12 or so miles done. Big crowds now and the hype was in flow. Here it was much more receptive with the crowd roaring with each cheer. “Come on Browner” being repeated. Rounding a corner there was a shout from the crowd and a High five from Jon (supporting the runners from Mind). We bounded over the half way point and felt good. We’d been occasionally chatting. Letting each other know how we were. Mile 14 saw us turn up to the infamous residential stretch. As I rounded the corner I belatededly saw. The cowbell cheer squad massive. Too Late for cheers.

Church street lived up to expectations. People lining ether side. Kids with sweets and oranges everywhere. The oranges were awesome. And then I started to notice, Alex was in trouble. His face looked like that of a marathoner! He was going through pains, emotions and thoughts not experienced before. The biggest telling point was hilarious for a bystander – up ahead a spectator was holding out two bottles of lucazade. Lids opened and ready to go. Alex made his move. As he closed in…arms outstretched… the bottles raised. Higher and higher. Vertical above the dudes head. He was focused beyond Alex. This wasn’t some generous supporter. This was a specific supporter. His friends and intended recipients of the sugary goodness were somewhere close behind us. Alex’s face. The disappointment. The muttered annoyance. It was too much. I cracked up and couldn’t stop laughing at the cruelty he felt. Temptation dangled right in front of him. The oasis in the race. I shouldn’t have laughed. But I’ll forever remember how funny it was to watch unfold.

The effect, not of lucazade-gate, but of the whole thing so far, hit home around mile 16 or so. Alex was spent. We pulled up and We had a little walk. Some sweets. A chat with some supporters. He had some (a lot)of pain in his hips. But even more determination in his face. Church road feels infinite when you’re in this condition. Stop-start we went. Adjusting the plan and goals. We were going to slow the pace which wasn’t a problem in the slightest.

Coming out of Church road and winding down the seafront our towards the infamous ‘power station’ loop we heard the biggest of cheers. It was Amy. Alex’s wife. I picked up up her cheers and echoed them. Let’s make some noise “come on Browner!”

On we went. I must say, the power station part was no where near as bad as people had made out. Yes it was annoying to still be running ‘away’ from the finish line. Yes it was quieter. And yes it was narrow and crowded. But there was a good buzz. Still plenty of supporters and for me, the smell from the timber yards was great!!

We did see a few runners on the floor receiving medical treatment. They looked confused. This brought back some uncomfortable memories for me and I hope they are as fortunate to but fit and healthy as I was when they recover! We continued the walk-run strategy out and down to the seafront. Just a ‘few miles’ remained. Alex was in and out of good and bad places. He was strong. I could see that. He knew he’d conquer this challenge.

It was the straight road home to the finish now. Along the sea front where the crowds had started to thicken, lining both sides of the street. Cheers and bells coming at you from every side and a shouts of ‘Alex’ and ‘Dai’! We turn to see Chris who we know from the London burger run meet ups. The cheers helped and we power on. It starts to rain as we are Heading up towards the pier. I’m in good mood whooping the crowd into a frenzy with great response. The sensation is incredible as the roar of the crowd follows us like a crashing wave. The finish is in sight and I’m screaming at Alex, at the other runners and at the crowd. I leave Alex to go get his photo finish and we cross the line to embrace in a big sweaty hug! Well earned and well deserved.

We collect our medals, take some pictures and head out the exit. Joking about he masses of family and friends crowding by then entrance. Why?!?! And then we spot Amy. She was one of them 😂

We wrapped Alex like a human burrito and headed off in search of warmth and food.

Limassol Marathon

Published on March 23, 2018 by runwithdai4 Comments

When & Where:

Cyprus, Limassol, March 2018

Why I ran this course:

Daryl was going. Remember, when Daryl asks, I say yes… Daryl, Yvette and Myself signed up to the full Marathon, Bernadas to the Half and Brigita was on cheering duties and keeping us all in check.

The Course:

Dull. A lap of some industrial areas. Then straight along a major road up the coast. Then back. Flat though. The coast was nice (as expected). Whilst a good course for racing, I don’t think it provides any mental stimulus.

The Organisation:

Smooth. Slick. Professional. The team did a great job in preparing and advertising the event. The were good with correspondence providing plenty of information and were quick to respond to queries.

I avoided most of the experience though as a friend collected my pack for me.

Most of the volunteers were young school kids mostly. They did alright. Not hugely enthusiastic and I suspect bored of it all for later runners.

The Atmosphere/Support:

Mostly not there as it was an out and back course. Few congregations around major hotels and water points though. I presume around the finish it was a good atmosphere. The event village had a stand with DJs.

My Race:

The prep was per usual. Plenty of mileage covered. Physically I was there. A marathon (over two runs) the week before was easy although unnecessary. Mentally, I was a bit of a mess. Malta has changed things. My mind couldn’t get away from the thought that a sub 3 was possible. So many ways to approach this but after dwelling on it I decided I’d go for it. Get it. Get it out of the way and enjoy the rest of the marathons with out the pressure I was suddenly feeling here. So that’s what I decided to do.

My math (google and someone else’s math) told me a 2:59 marathon would need an average pace of 6:50 min/mile. That’s a big ask. Finding 3 mins off my last time across 26 miles is not easy. The way I decided to find this was to go with a heavily top loaded strategy. I thought I’d go for 6:20 pace for ten miles (5 mins in the bag for later) and 6:40 for the next 10 (another 3 in the bag for later). Then the last 6 miles I can drop to 7:50 or below and eat those reserve minutes up.

So off I went. And to plan I mostly stuck. Early splits were a little over 6:20 but I wasn’t too worried. It dawned on me around mile 6 that my breathing was heavier/ more noticeable than previous runs. But it would be right. I was flying. I mostly kept pace with various groups of other runners. At one point forming a sort of peloton as we hid from the slightly oncoming (mostly side) wind.

Hitting the 10 mile mark my pace had dropped to 6:30 for the last few miles. I felt ok though so promised to try and make it up by sustaining this pace till the half way mark. A high five and cheer from Brigita and I was motivated through. Some gels collected too. I thought I’d need these this time. It was now time for the mental game. The long straight and back half marathon lay ahead. It was dull. No way around it. Head down. Plot on through. Clapping and cheering the few supporters out on the route and the elites coming back the other way.

I was struggling with my target pace but was hovering under the 7 min mile mark. I wasn’t bothered. I knew the miles were in the bag. I was watching the average pace slowly increase with each passing mile. As long as they were in sync, a ratio of 2 seconds per mile would even see me come home on time. Besides. I still had the contingency minute as I’d planned for a 2:59. All it meant was the last 6 miles would need a bit more effort is all.

And so it continued. Long. Straight. Pace watching. Slowing slightly each mile. I started to get overtaken around mile 22 but also overtook a few myself. I still felt good.

I remember noticing I had two miles to go. Annoying. Thought it would be one mile by now. I was around 7:30 pace. It would be tight for the sub 3. But I was confident. I knew we’d turn into the final stretch with about 1/2 a mile to go (I measured it on the way out) I told myself, get there, get passed the turn then you can check the watch. If it’s gone 2:56, go for it. Last half mile. If not, relax. You’ve got this.

I never got to check the watch. Or at least next time I did check the watch it was 11:30. I should have finished at 10:30. I was in a medical tent. Something had gone wrong. Very wrong. I must have passed out. I recorded my first Did Not Finish. I’m okay with that. Better than I thought I’d be. But now I need to figure out what happened….

The Goodies:

None for me! Well, apart from oxygen and fluids. I hear there were massages, freeze spray and beer. The medal looked good. The t-shirts you needed to buy. Pah

Time/Standings:

Time: DNF

Standing: DNF

Malta Marathon 2018

Published on February 26, 2018February 26, 2018 by runwithdai5 Comments

Street Signs

WHERE & WHEN:

Malta, February 2018

WHY I RAN THIS COURSE:

No particular reason other than I hadn’t been to Malta and I needed a marathon in February. I didn’t do any research but I wish I did. I might have been able to visit something like the Hypogeum if I’d planned in advance.

THE COURSE:

The course is not a city marathon. starting in the hills of Mdina you run through the countryside, downhill towards the capital Valletta before finishing up in the marina of Sliema.

THE ORGANISATION:

It’s a simple one. Registration was straight forward and the website informative. There was little correspondence from the MMOC (Malta Marathon Organising Committee) other than a reminder a few days before the race to “follow the rules”. Bib collection was available the day before (a good thing!) and the collection straightforward (although I went back 20 mins later after ripping my plastic kit bag and the queues were suddenly huge!). Everything went as expected.

THE ATMOSPHERE/SUPPORT:

Pretty much none. I’m getting this from the smaller, overseas marathons.

MY RACE:

It’s another run, another new place, another early morning. There’s organised transport from Sliema (where the marathon finishes) to Mdina (where it shall begin). It leaves at 6am. Aaargh. The night before I’d scoped out the walk. I’ve got a fairly decent night’s sleep and it’s now 4am and I’m getting up. The hotel I’m staying at doesn’t have much in the way of room facilities but there is a coffee machine in the lobby. The night watch man grunts as I get that early caffeine fix in. Arriving at the marina there starts to form a gathering of runners (what’s the collective for a group of runners? Just runners?). No one really knows where the buses will be so I walk up and down, taking in the marina in the dark. A short ride later and we arrive at Mdina. We have well over an hour to wait till the start. But, there’s a treat in store – I spend the majority of the time walking the streets of the walled town. Taking in the sunrise from the hills. Not a bad start to the day!

Before I know it we are off. The marathon is underway and we start running The route winding through the Maltese countryside. The potholed roads (think running in the shit parts of Lambeth) are mostly lined with Stone walls and for the early parts of the race we are treated to the beautiful morning views of Mdina.

The race hasn’t the luxury of Closed roads but, there was only one occasion where this was a problem when, a few km in, a parked car pulled out and decided to try to drive through all the runners. Knobs head Other than that my experience was good. It was Well traffic-marshalled and later parts of the course had a coned off section/lane for the race.

I wasn’t sure how to approach this race. It was meaningless to me for a start. The second race in my challenge. Here on my own. My mind looking at future races. I had little incentive. Once again I thought of taking it easy. But the trouble is I now know from Muscat what I’m capable of. What I can run. And I’m also very competitive with myself. I can’t dial that back. So off I went again with the crowd when the race director said “go”. Starting out I was feeling strong and I felt that the race was fast with a speedy field of runners. Immediately I was faster than Muscat. It was happening again, immediately I started to form a race strategy.

My run plan had become – keep the fast sub-7min mile pace until 10miles. Then adapt. I soon changed this to the keeping the same pace for the first half. The adaption this time was followed by the approach of “if I’m struggling to sustain the pace or if I’m finding the pace is difficult then drop it” give myself some breathing space by lowering the pace slightly and sustain that instead. So mile 13 I did just that. I looked to slow to a more comfortable 7.20min mile pace which I promised I’d aim to keep till mile 21. Then like Muscat, anything goes. The hard work would be done. Bring it home.

The majority of the first 10 miles was downhill. Then there was a short bit steep incline around that was soon followed by a longer gradual climb. These were pace sappers. I was fighting a little to keep the pace at this point. 13 miles was my target though.

Other than those the majority of the first half to 3/4 turned out to be downhill (obviously I knew ethos from the elevation chart, but, it’s difficult to visualise a chart in reality!).Downhills look and sound easy but By mile 17 mile quads were lit. There was burning and pain. I kept going.

Malta Marathon Elevation Chart — clearly downhill, but hard to make out the individual hills

Malta Marathon elevation — Those inclines at mile 10 and around mile 12, 22 and 24 were little bitches!

The water stations were well stocked with kids loving the responsibility. I also enjoyed the occasional powerade supplier in small little bottles. Easy to drink perfect size portion.

Mile 20 had a little surprise in store for us – a steep bridge over a main road. It was the first but not the last. Most of the last 6 miles of the course had these little ups and downs. They were tough. I slowed my pace as promised. 8 min miles were mine. Smile and enjoy what I could.

Around miles 22-23 I started to be overtaken by a lot of people. I was hoping these were just the half marathoners but there were definitely faces I recognised from earlier. This wasn’t a fun feeling. I was running faster than ever before. Perhaps that race strategy isn’t the way afterall.

Up and down we went, round and round the twisty coastal roads. As we hit the capital – Valletta – we looper round the bays and coastal roads. On the other side I could soon see the finishing arc. 2km remaining. Here we go, Sliema here I come.

Up until Sliema there was pretty much no support. But, the finishing mile had brought the public out in their masses. A great last boost. Including huge screams from the lovely lady working at the Ta’ Kris restaurant I visited the night before (highly recommend by the way. So busy they were constantly turning people away!). I wish I’d left her more of a tip now.

It’s the final stretch and I’m ushered into the wrong finish and had a picture with a rapid Half marathon time instead. Doh.

Malta Finish — I was pretty happy to finish!

Getting my medal I glanced back and saw the clock on the other side was saying 3:03. I was shocked. But it was goodies time. That can wait till later.

Immediately after the water I queued for a free leg rub. Lovely. Fucking hurt like hell. I didn’t enjoy that.

Then I queued for a photo with my estimated finish time which my watch had confirmed was just under 3:03. Suhweeeet.

It’s great that the marathon includes free photos to social media and a free rub. You can’t argue with that. It was chaotic though. It was all too close to the finish and a bit packed as the thousands of runners started finishing.

The free T-Shirt is great and has similarities to the National footy kit!

Malta Tshirt — No? just me who sees similarities?

All in all a highly recommend race. It’s not a city marathon so is very scenic. It’s a Beautiful route that is Fast, hilly and Tough. It’s Well organised and Cheap compared to most.

As I was running Malta something felt different. I felt for the first time I was more in tune with my run, more Aware of my body. Whilst enjoying the surroundings (see pic of me absorbing it) I could sense when I was slacking. When I was ready to slow. My brain was easily able to translate the messages to my body. It felt good. I’m going to try and explain in another post. I also felt better at reacting to check points and water stations. Something I’ve never been efficient at. Maybe one part of it is that I also avoided checking my time. I kept monitoring my pace but no pressures of time. And didn’t attempt to calculate it. So i knew I was running strong. Just without the pressure of expectations.

I entered the run with a clouded mind of emotions and thoughts that had lingered for a few weeks and made me a grumpy sod for no apparent reason. The long run worked its magic though and now I can’t remember those thoughts or stresses and the freedom running gives me has once again delivered.

THE GOODIES:

Medal T-shirt, Medal, Massage, Photos. What more could you want? The medal is pretty big but features Mdina. It’s alright.

TIME/STANDINGS:

3:02:47 (PB)
54/883

Muscat Marathon

Published on January 26, 2018February 1, 2018 by runwithdai5 Comments

Where & When:

Muscat, Oman, January 2018

Oman is truly spectacular with an incredibly beautiful landscape full of mountains and Wadis. We spent a few days exploring some of Oman’s offerings and were welcomed by such a welcoming culture with very smiley and happy locals.