The end of year Doyen

Marathon T

What can you say about the 30 mile trail run that is the end of year session for the ‘extreme running’ organisation? It is hard work, that’s a good start.

The weather leading up to the December 2009 running of the ‘Doyen of the Downs’ trail race can only be described as wet, in fact very wet is closer, if you wanted to go mad then ‘monsoon season’ would be closer still. The flooding across this part of the country was extensive and meant that for us a course alteration was required on the day to avoid a very large body of water that in normal years would have been a nice flat field to jog across.

As always with ‘ultra’ races the day began very early in a deserted car park in a very sleepy town, in this case Arundel, West Sussex. I had checked out of the hotel around the corner, before reception was occupied, and dumped all of my non-running gear in the hire car. The plan was to run the race then head straight up to Gatwick in my gear to pick up my girlfriend from her flight and spend a few days in the UK. The timing of this meant I had a maximum of five and a half hours to complete the 30 mile trail run across the South Downs in order to arrive in time for her plane landing.

After checking in I changed, dumped my ‘drop’ bag at the football club hall, and strolled outside to the car park for a bit of last minute stretching and warming up. While I chatted with another couple of mad runners I had a check around and noticed I was the only one in the assembled throng who had decided on just shorts for the day, everyone else seemed to have gone for the much more sensible precaution of winter tights (knee or full-length). They clearly knew something I didn’t and when the icy rain started lashing down about 15 mins before the start I got a brief taste of what it might be.

As we were called forward for the start I decided to hang back towards the rear as my training had not been exhaustive and I felt a bit undercooked for the challenge and knew where the pace I had to set myself to make my cut-off would put me in the large group of experienced looking runners.

We were off at 0830 and immediately into a queue to get around the first few twisty corners – worse was to come 5 mins later as the crush of runners got to the first stile. Clearly those with some experience of this particular race had situated themselves at the front to avoid this 5 min delay and stop-start of the first mile (I also waited a couple of minutes at a foot crossing for a train to pass). As the run continued and the rain lashed down the going underfoot got progressively worse. The Doyen turned into a real cross-country challenge with even well placed feet disappearing into ankle deep mud with almost every step. As I approached the first checkpoint I had already managed to plaster mud up to me knees and the brief respite of tarmac allowed me to divest myself of a good few pounds of sticky Sussex mud from each shoe.

The next 10 or so miles passed with more rain, some very wet/muddy trail conditions and absolutely stunning scenery – as we crested the hill at 12-13 miles (after a 3 mile uphill slog) the views across the Downs more than made up for the exertions thus far. A very treacherous descent followed (I almost, dangerously, lost my footing twice as I squirmed down the steepest parts of the hill) and we continued on to the halfway point at Storrington.

It is fair to say that up to 18 miles I felt good as I rumbled through the mud – I passed halfway in around 2hrs 30mins, much quicker than I had expected. So as I approached 20 miles I knew the final stretch was going to be very challenging. I had seen the course profile so knew there was a significant hill waiting for us between 20 – 22 miles but as I got to the bottom of it and stared upwards I hadn’t realise how far it would go on for.

I really struggled up the hill – was passed by a number of people – and took (as always) to thinking why I ever decided to participate in this bl**dy ‘sport’. Over the hill (as I felt at the time) and down the other side I picked up the pace and eventually got myself to the final checkpoint before the finish.

As we turned towards Arundel the organisers had a final twist in store for us as they took us on a loop along the river Arun with the finish at the castle no more than a mile away (by the most direct route – which we obviously were not taking) for the final 3 miles. The coup de grace came as we had to slip down an embankment and over a small fence to enter the finishing area and then wade across the sodden ground to finish under the banner and finally have a rest (after picking up the obligatory t-shirt and memento – an embossed shot glass - which was a bit of a novelty).

I finished in 5hrs and 18 mins – which was perfect timing but my original plan to pull on a pair of track pants and jump in the hire car had to be immediately rethought due to the amount of mud which had, by the finish, coated my claves in clumps up to my knees and distributed a fair smattering right up to the top of my thighs. So, grabbing my small sports towel I sought out the football club showers for a refreshing hosing off, then had the awful prospect of walking back to the car in clean track pants and event t-shirt plus my sodden and squelching trail shoes.

170 runners finished the Doyen of the Downs 2009 under the official cut-off time of 7 hours. The winner finished in 3hrs 36mins (which is my Marathon PB!), although the first couple of runners did follow an incorrect sign near the finish and cut a mile or so from the route the rest of us mortals struggled through (that is my excuse for finishing a mere 1hr 42mins behind)!

All-in-all a fantastic finish to the year, and definitely a race to repeat in years to come, although I’m not sure you would ever be able to compare different years over the same course given the impact of the conditions – but then maybe that is half the fun (certainly I misplaced half the fun somewhere around the route).

So, the running year of 2009 has ended for this Mofo – scores on the doors were - two half-marathons, two marathons, a 30 mile trail run & a 58 mile cross-country completed. Not a bad year – but plenty to improve on in 2010.

Cheers all,

Marathon T

57.8 miles is a long way to run – and other obvious statements…

Marathon T

So, as I arrived on Blackheath at just after 5am for the start of the London to Brighton run I took a sneaky check on the other athletes and felt immediately out of my depth. It’s bad enough at the start of a marathon, but in this company – as everyone lined up with their professional looking adventure racing gear – I felt very concerned I was undercooked for the challenge.

The weekend had not begun well – after a brief look at one of the stops my partner (and designated weekend support crew) would meet me at – we made a beeline for the hotel (via Bluewater – she wasn’t going to miss that opportunity!), with the idea of spending the day with our feet up. However, as I did a final kit check in the room I realised I didn’t have my Garmin Forerunner with me, despite double checking at home it was nowhere to be found. So, after some deliberation, another race down to Bluewater enabled me to buy the latest Garmin 310XT model at an eye-watering cost. As I had spent a number of hours researching the route and marking up the map book to include all mile markers I could not face the prospect of running for 13 hours without knowing exactly how much distance I had covered.

Back to the hotel we finally crashed out at 18:00 with some room service and dreadful Saturday evening TV. Not the relaxing day I was hoping for – but still not too bad.

My (official) alarm went off at 04:00 - we had been woken by several unofficial alarms through the night as guests of the wedding taking part in the hotel crashed about the corridors in a state of advanced merriment. I got up and set about making my expedition breakfast – it was a cereal and mango concoction in a bag that just needed boiling water.

So, as my partner slept on, I sat in a small hotel chair illuminated by a dim bedside light and tucked into 800 calories of nauseating sludge. As I sat contemplating how I had got myself to this point – I thought about all of the 5am mornings I had seen over the summer, and all of the evenings out I had missed – anyone who believes ultra running is just about connecting with nature, fresh air, adventure and personal highs – should try my breakfast….

I got my gear together and roused my partner – heading out of the hotel and across the road to the official registration for 5am. After queuing and getting final race instructions and my GPS tracker (for family and friends to track my progress on the day) I made my way to the start line and waved goodbye to my other half.

Bang on 6am we were off.

I have to say that I was fairly staggered by the starting pace – I had settled on a 9:45/mile start pace and I was very quickly at the back of the field. I jogged along for the first couple of hours – eventually catching up to a number of runners as they settled back from the start. I was amazed that anyone attempting 56 miles would start off this quick; as one of the runners near me said “It’s not a sprint, it’s not even a marathon!”

The first couple of checkpoints passed without incident and before I knew it I was arriving at my first ‘support team’ catch up point at 22 miles. I took the opportunity to get some food, change my socks and footwear (Asics road shoes off, North Face trail shoes on), fill up my hydration pack and relax for two minutes before starting on the real trail sections.

As I started off again full of carbs I felt great but quickly realised something wasn’t quite right. I laboured on for another 6 miles, before I had to stop on a major uphill section to vomit. After the unpleasantness I trudged up the rest of the hill feeling like death and considering where I could drop out of the race. I met a guy called Andy at the top of this hill sitting on the verge and chatting together we ambled along for the next few miles to the 30 mile checkpoint – comfortably under the 6 hour cutoff.

At the 30 miles checkpoint I dumped a few cups of water over my head and got some fluid and oranges inside and immediately felt much better. I resolved to try to make it to the next check at 36.5 miles then think about dropping at that one (or at my next aid stop at 39 miles)….

Teaming up with Andy we cajoled each other along and shared a lot of the map reading – which by this time had got difficult. We covered the next 6 miles easily and arrived at the next checkpoint in good spirits. More water on the head and more snacks followed, as we left we also teamed up with a lady called Andi from Washington DC (which helped me no end as remembering two names by that point would have been a struggle).

As we left this checkpoint I felt much stronger and by the time I had got to the 39 mile meeting point with my ‘support team’ all thoughts of abandoning the run had gone and I felt superb. I had climbed my wall and was now flying (relatively speaking). After a quick stop we were off again.

We got to the final checkpoint at 46 miles in the shadow of the South Downs beacons in decent time and now knew we had over 3 hours to complete the final 10 miles. The problem we had was that several miles earlier Andi had suffered a problem with her knee which reduced her to a walk, this was now getting worse and she couldn’t run at all downhill and only very slowly on the flat. We walked along together for a number of miles and agreed that as we had now come so far we would finish as a team.

By the time we had covered another 5 miles and despite the assurances of the marshals that we only had 3-4 miles to go, I knew that we had over 5.5 miles to go into Brighton and only 90 mins to do it. We dragged each other on with encouragement and by the time we got in sight of Brighton we were down to the wire in terms of time. Finally we agreed that we would have to go for it and try to run as much of the final few miles as possible – so very quietly and with some hobbling we started the final descent into Brighton.

As we made our way across the racecourse and towards the seafront, we all dug in and following the route of least resistance made a beeline for the sea. The few supporters left on the course pointed us towards the finishing straight and with a final challenge of 100m of loose stones (very hard on the legs) we crossed the line in 12hours and 53 mins – a whole 7 minutes to spare.

Of the 250+ starters at Blackheath, 157 officially finished the course under the 13 hour cut-off (11 of those after us in the last 7 mins). Although, a number of runners were still going after 16 hours which is a Herculean effort as far as I am concerned. The winners are incredible athletes (8hrs 42mins for the first person home), but anyone who is still going on the route after 16 hours and in the dark gets my utmost respect.

After basking (briefly) in the adulation of the crowd, thanking Andy & Andi, and picking up a very hard won T-Shirt, I headed for the sanctuary of the Hilton hotel bar. Several of the most delicious beers of my life followed but all too soon I needed a wash and rest – so said goodbye to Oli (cheers again fella for coming to support, and for supplying the drinks at the finish) – and headed to the room for a long hot bath and fluffy bathrobes…

The next day didn’t prove too bad – I was a bit sore but managed to wander around Brighton for the morning, had a great sushi lunch in ‘Moshi Moshi’ (cheers again for the recommendation Oli) then packed up and headed for Gatwick.

The last few weeks have been punctuated by low mileage, recovery runs which have been enjoyable. I am now getting a plan together for my next run in December – another trail Ultra across the South Downs. I need more hill training before I get there….If you need me I’ll be on the north coast…

UltraMarathon T

The Parisian exploits of Marathon’s T & B

Marathon T

So, what happened next to team MoFo? Did they run one race and disappear off the face of the earth? Are they, even now, in a secret training camp preparing their bid for glory at London 2012?

Well, actually it is a very successful group story….

We are all still running, with varying levels of success day-to-day. We have completed marathons and half marathons, have run dressed as Santa Claus and one of us has even gone over to the dark side by racing in a triathlon! And possibly most foolish of all I am currently training for the London to Brighton run (56 miles non-stop) in a few weeks!

The most significant race Marathon B and I ran this year was the Paris Marathon in April. Since you ask – this is how the Marathon weekend unfolded….

We began on Friday 3^{rdApril with a leisurely midday flight out to Paris (direct – which is something of a novelty from Jersey), and after dumping bags at our hotel in Trocadero we jumped straight in a cab for the expo. After negotiating the registration process (involving several checks of doctor’s certificates) we were finally confirmed as entrants in the 37,000 strong field. We had a good look around the expo, and stocked up with a few choice items of gear, Marathon B felt the need to get some new running shades, true to form he went for the very best ones available, purely on the basis that they were the exact same pair that Paula Radcliffe wears (the male version he assumed). Marathon B then spotted an animated graphic showing the race route – so we stood transfixed by the huge screen as a red line snaked its way along a map of Paris for what seemed an eternity, sufficed to say when it finished we knew the task in hand – it didn’t encourage us. We retired to the hotel early – as we had to be up for the breakfast run the next morning.}

Very early the next morning we made our way down from the hotel, walked under the Eiffel Tower and to the start of the Breakfast Run. It was a relaxed atmosphere as we spent a few minutes milling around amongst the other runners, finally lining up behind the flag bearers representing all of the nations competing. We enjoyed the 5km run – although probably ran it a bit quick – finishing along the last bit of the Marathon course up the Avenue Foch towards the Arc de Triomphe.

Marathon B on the breakfast run.

We spent the rest of the day mooching around Paris (back to many old haunts), when we should really have been off our feet and relaxing! Drank a load of coffee and water (we were frankly a bit lost without our usual recourse to boat loads of alcohol) and carb loaded at the Hard Rock Café (The pig sandwich – great value with about 2,000 calories in every one!). We finished the evening with a gentle stroll back to the hotel (basically because we couldn’t find a cab) for a nervous night before the big day.

The day of the Marathon started with a lot of pushing and shoving (imagine 30,000 runners trying to crush through a fence opening about the size of a double door!) to get the bags dropped off. After successfully negotiating that task we donned our disposable bin liners and squeezed into the rear pen ready for the off. The curse of the nervous bladder hit us both as we waited and as a consequence we started the race right at the back with the costumed stragglers and broom wagon! Running down the Champs-Elysees was a fantastic experience though, with the entire field stretched out in front of us and the Palais de Louvre in the distance. The first few miles were covered very conservatively; we were amazed how many people were walking within the first few minutes.

By the halfway point (2hrs 30ish) there had been no dramas, we’d been disappointed that all of the sponge stations had run out, and been soaked by some mint tea (my own fault), but we were clipping along quite nicely. After a quick phone call to Guru T (my long suffering Father) for a pep talk and some advice, we continued on our way happily.

As we hit the banks of the Seine the temperature really started to soar – running in and out of the stifling tunnels took its toll and by mile 19 we were struggling. As we approached a feeding station I almost went over on the slick cobbles (deadly combination of discarded water and orange peel), so we decided to walk for a bit through the treacherous conditions. We then had further disappointment as it turned out that the only point on the course where isotonic drinks were available had run out (the Powerade marketing dept obviously don’t target the runners at the back of the field!)…

The next seven miles we ran were very hot and interspersed with some walking breaks, but we eventually tagged onto the back of the 5hr 30mins pacing group and they dragged us at a decent pace to the finish. We dropped them with about 2km to go and finished in 5hr 28mins (unofficial Garmin time). At the end we felt beaten up but proud of the effort and run.

Marathon B – beaten up but happy

We celebrated that night in the traditional way – a beer within 30 mins of finishing (it’s important to rehydrate!) then toured a few champagne bars – and treated ourselves to a couple of the largest Cohiba cigars we could find (smoking them on the enclosed terrace of the restaurant we were in – it was France after all)…

Cigars and Champers – the only way to celebrate

Nursing mild hangovers we travelled back on the TGV, and considering the exertions of the previous day both of us felt fine, no problems with the legs at all. We celebrated as soon as we boarded the train with several wheat beers and finished the trip with a great lunch in the square in St Malo (with much wine).

TGV – First Class in every way

St Malo – Back in time for Cidre and medals

The Paris Marathon was a fantastic experience, a great weekend all round. The only slight downside was the general organisation of the event.

After Paris we went back to a regular training regime and started to prepare for the Jersey Half-Marathon 2009 – the anniversary race for the MoFo’s – and reason we all started running in Jan 2008….I had a decent run finishing in 1hr 35mins, which was a 4 minute improvement on last year (and a new PB – in my second ever half-marathon!)….

So, now I am full steam ahead for the London-to-Brighton run at the end of September. I have found it difficult piling on the miles during holiday season, but am persevering. One of the most difficult elements of the challenge is training to run at a much reduced pace. I can happily trot out a 7:30/mile pace for an hour or so during training, but for this run I have had to discipline myself to run 10min+ per mile during my long runs in order to nurse myself through the miles. The other interesting challenge training for long distances is the switch from one weekly long run to two or more. This weekend, for example, I managed to run 19 miles on Saturday followed by 24 miles on Sunday, running on tired legs seems to be the key to success on any run greater than 8 hours….But then what do I know? This will be the furthest distance (by far) I have ever attempted to run, I’ve got no idea what mile 40+ is going to feel like. Thankfully there is a generous 13 hour cut off time for the run – I hope to squeak in just under that time.

So, that’s the update for now – we are going to try to breathe life back into the blog – if for no other reason than to chart our progress over the winter and get each other motivated for a possible spring marathon (event tbc)…

That’s all for now.

Marathon T

p.s. The most important statistic of the Paris Marathon was, on final countback, that I thrashed Marathon B on the “encouragement from the crowd” stakes, an embarrassing 12 shouts of my name to 9 of his. To be honest the support was a bit lacklustre!