Sunday, 13 September 2015
Mud glorious mud
Ok, so it was only 2 weeks since I dropped from the UTMB. I've been feeling knackered, my injuries are not yet healed, and I still can't run downhill comfortably.
But I'm also daft as a brush.
So, last weekend I went to the Black Mountains to sample some more delicious trail laid on for us by the team at Might Contain Nuts. My aim was to test out my endurance and hill legs and treat the race as a long training run ahead of the 3x3000 in October.
I've done one other race in the Brecons this year. The midnight mountain marathon (put on by Brutal Events) was a wonderful marathon(ish) race which included the summit of Pen-y-fan. I went into that one with fresh legs, but a stinking hangover, which was completely cured by the time I finished!
I've decided to start keeping a bit more of a record of training and kit now (having previously been someone who keeps no training log and doesn't run with a watch/garmin).
Training Week leading up to the race:
Saturday - 12 x 1 minute hill sprints. Sunday - 2k swim. Monday - 9 miles hilly road. Tuesday - cycle to and from work, then post-cycle 6 mile tempo run plus extra weight. Wednesday - 2k swim, 5 miles steady run. Thursday - cycle to and from work. Friday - 3 miles steady.
Clothing list: Shorts, long-sleeved running top, Hilly single-skin socks, Nike sports bra, Asics gel Fuji Trabuco trail shoes.
Kit list: waterproof trousers and jacket, long running tights, gloves, hat, headlight, compass, map, water and food.
Estimated food consumed during race: 1 pack shotblocs, 2 x SIS gels, 2 pieces of flapjack (picked up at checkpoints)
Here's my bullet-point race rundown, comprised of snippets of thought that I can recall.
*Ok, I can run, slowly but I can run
*I can't run fast and I feel very heavy. This is hard
*This climb is AWESOME! I feel like a mountain goat!!
*Yay, rain! The best kind of ultra-weather!
*Damn it, I'm lost. (This was a recurring thought throughout the race, as a lot of the course markings had been blown over)
*Oh hell, major energy slump. When will I learn to fuel properly?! (1 packet of shotblocks and 2 SIS gels were not enough for this run)
*It's really hot, I wonder if anyone would judge me if I ran in just my sports bra....no, I just can't do that to the world.
*Why the hell do I always seem to feel so short of breath and lethargic these days?
*Woohoo, I made it into first place! Thank you hill-legs!
*Boo, I still can't run downhill properly, I'm back in second!!
*This is the best macaroni cheese I've ever had in my entire life!!! (The catering company doing food at the end of the race were amazing)
Thanks Might Contain Nuts, another brilliant event!!
Friday, 4 September 2015
The cause and solution to all of life's problems.
Today I went for a run, and I felt terrible. My heart was thumping out of my chest, and my legs would barely move. I am exhausted.
It's been a generally bad year so far. I make no secret of the fact that I have mental health problems. They have been troubling me. I have felt myself become isolated and I have lost my enthusiasm. I have lost a close friend because of my difficult nature. I feel uncertain of my future.
That's the problem with racing when you have depression. The racing becomes a way to vindicate yourself. One bad race, and you lose all faith in yourself. 2 bad races and your world might as well have ended. At that point, you have become worthless. Because your only worth is in winning races, right? That's when people praise you, that's when people want to know you. The rest of the time you are just...nothing.
And even if you do do well in a race, you always know you could have done better....
That is the rut I have found myself in more and more this year, and it is sapping me of strength, and taking the pleasure out of running. Because, as a result of this, every bad run (not just race, but run) becomes overwhelming. And bad runs become more frequent. I find myself stopping and sitting by the side of the trail from sheer exhaustion after only a few miles. Instead of coming back from a training run and feeling satisfied and accomplished, I come back in tears. Why has my body stopped doing what I'm telling it to?
I have begun to examine the role of running in my life. Why do I do it? What does it mean to me? Why is it significant?
There are many reasons. Fresh air, love of the outdoors, desire to travel. But there are 4 major reasons which I identified.
1. I run to remain slim. I was surprised to find this at the top of the list, but the truth is, having suffered from anorexia as a teenager, and then piled on a load of weight in my early 20's, the fact that I can remain quite slim despite relatively normal food intake is massively liberating and comforting. And yes, when I can't run, I do withhold food from myself. My ideal figure is an androgynous one, and the years since I started ultra-running are those I have been most comfortable with my body.
2. Endorphins. I know that I get cranky and agitated when I can't exercise. I get sad, I stop eating (see reason 1), I drink more alcohol. I joke with people that running is just a more socially-acceptable form of opioid addiction, but it's closer to the truth than a joke. And point 2 is intimately interlinked with point...
...3. The good run. You know this one. The run that feels effortless. Your feet have wings attached and you glide. Your mind is free, your body is part of the air around you. I'm not an inherently spiritual person, but this is the closest I get to meditation.
4. Competition. I fit the stereotype; high grades at school, anorexic, competitive from an early age (originally in music). My mum always recalls how I phoned her in tears when I got a 2:1 in my second semester at uni. Her friends couldn't understand why I was upset, because 2:1 is good, correct? But for me, it wasn't a 1st and that was the point. These days I am not ambitious in my job, but in my running. I strive to achieve...to win. Then, if I do, I feel no sense of achievement and am still acutely aware of my own inadequacy.
And herein lies the problem. I have begun to define myself by this. These points have become over-arching. My other hobbies have faded away. I am a runner, but in my mind I am nothing else.
Today I went for a run, and I felt terrible. My heart was thumping out of my chest, and my legs would barely move. I am exhausted. Who am I?
...I need to find myself...
....I should go for a run.
It's been a generally bad year so far. I make no secret of the fact that I have mental health problems. They have been troubling me. I have felt myself become isolated and I have lost my enthusiasm. I have lost a close friend because of my difficult nature. I feel uncertain of my future.
That's the problem with racing when you have depression. The racing becomes a way to vindicate yourself. One bad race, and you lose all faith in yourself. 2 bad races and your world might as well have ended. At that point, you have become worthless. Because your only worth is in winning races, right? That's when people praise you, that's when people want to know you. The rest of the time you are just...nothing.
And even if you do do well in a race, you always know you could have done better....
That is the rut I have found myself in more and more this year, and it is sapping me of strength, and taking the pleasure out of running. Because, as a result of this, every bad run (not just race, but run) becomes overwhelming. And bad runs become more frequent. I find myself stopping and sitting by the side of the trail from sheer exhaustion after only a few miles. Instead of coming back from a training run and feeling satisfied and accomplished, I come back in tears. Why has my body stopped doing what I'm telling it to?
I have begun to examine the role of running in my life. Why do I do it? What does it mean to me? Why is it significant?
There are many reasons. Fresh air, love of the outdoors, desire to travel. But there are 4 major reasons which I identified.
1. I run to remain slim. I was surprised to find this at the top of the list, but the truth is, having suffered from anorexia as a teenager, and then piled on a load of weight in my early 20's, the fact that I can remain quite slim despite relatively normal food intake is massively liberating and comforting. And yes, when I can't run, I do withhold food from myself. My ideal figure is an androgynous one, and the years since I started ultra-running are those I have been most comfortable with my body.
2. Endorphins. I know that I get cranky and agitated when I can't exercise. I get sad, I stop eating (see reason 1), I drink more alcohol. I joke with people that running is just a more socially-acceptable form of opioid addiction, but it's closer to the truth than a joke. And point 2 is intimately interlinked with point...
...3. The good run. You know this one. The run that feels effortless. Your feet have wings attached and you glide. Your mind is free, your body is part of the air around you. I'm not an inherently spiritual person, but this is the closest I get to meditation.
4. Competition. I fit the stereotype; high grades at school, anorexic, competitive from an early age (originally in music). My mum always recalls how I phoned her in tears when I got a 2:1 in my second semester at uni. Her friends couldn't understand why I was upset, because 2:1 is good, correct? But for me, it wasn't a 1st and that was the point. These days I am not ambitious in my job, but in my running. I strive to achieve...to win. Then, if I do, I feel no sense of achievement and am still acutely aware of my own inadequacy.
And herein lies the problem. I have begun to define myself by this. These points have become over-arching. My other hobbies have faded away. I am a runner, but in my mind I am nothing else.
Today I went for a run, and I felt terrible. My heart was thumping out of my chest, and my legs would barely move. I am exhausted. Who am I?
...I need to find myself...
....I should go for a run.
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