A Tale of 2 Hundreds

About a month ago I ran my second hundred, and just over a week ago I ran my third. I'm going to try to describe the vast differences in these two experiences.

100 number one. The Thames Path 100.
Before:
 I entered this race after a place came up when I was on the waiting list. My only other hundred at that point had been the Cotswold Way 100. I didn't have any races other than the UTMB planned for 2014, mostly because my job doesn't allow much forward planning, so I was really excited when a place came up. I was also really nervous as my training since the Green Man ultra was mainly focused on the VLM which was 3 weeks before the TP100. I had aimed for a sub 3hr time, and failed by 2 minutes. Still,3hr02mins, a PB. The week and weekend following the VLM I stepped up my distance, finishing with a back to back 20/15. The next week I put in a couple of 10s and the weekend before the TP100 I did 12/13 (incorporating the Plymouth half marathon in a less-than impressive time!). I hate short fast runs. Finally, the weekend of the TP100 arrived! I was working the day before and had to catch the train up to London after work. I didn't get to my accomodation until past 11pm, but managed to get a 6 hour solid sleep in and arrive at the start in time to get a coffee and chill out for a bit.

During:
I had no concept of the pace I should start at for this terrain and as a result I set off way too fast. During the first 11 miles I managed to get lost with a group of guys, which made me panic and run even faster to try to get back to the path. I'm not sure of my splits, but I know I reached 22 feeling less than top form. One of the things I remember about the Cotswold was how comfortable I felt even into 60-odd miles. This was not the case on the TP100! By the fourth checkpoint my quads were already hurting. By the 50 mile point they were screaming, and I was already having to stop to walk for short periods. Not good. My sister-in-law and her husband were waiting for me at the 63 mile checkpoint, and I tried to be as cheery as possible, but I was dreading the remaining distance.
The first half of this race was a bit uncomfortable. The second half was pure agony and has become a blur of pain and sickness in my head. I also got cold overnight as the temperature dropped  to around 2 degrees, which made the pain even worse. It was a nightmare. I only have 3 or 4 distinct memories: After Streatley I hooked up with a guy who was also suffering. He had a pacer with him and they were doing 1min running 30 secs walking. I joined them for a bit, which was a lovely ray of light in a long dark night. At Wallingford it was pub-chucking-out time, and I got trailed by a group of tipsy excitable girls for about half a mile. They were chattering on about how amazing I was, how they couldn't believe what I was doing, they were really really encouraging, but all I could think was 'leave me ALONE!!' I was so miserable I couldn't deal with their lovely cheeriness. (After the race I considered going back to Wallingford and sticking up some posters saying thanks to those girls!). At the 85 mile checkpoint I was convinced I was going to burst into tears on the shoulder of one of the marshals. For some reason I didn't. I was probably too tired!
I finished the TP100 in just under 20 hours (19.57). I was first lady, and had broken the 20 hour mark, but I was less than impressed with myself and my body. So much pain for a not-too-amazing time! I spent the day following the race hobbling very slowly around oxford. It was 3 days before I could walk properly again, and I sustained a knee injury which seriously restricted my running for the following few weeks.

100 number two. The South Down Way 100:
Before.
When I got back home from the TP100 I was so annoyed with myself that I wanted to enter another 100 immediately. I didn’t want the memory of that second 50 miles to be with me too long, and knew I’d need a better experience to replace it. I saw that the waiting list for the SDW100 was open, so I added my name and about a week later I got an email offering me a place. At this point I was struggling to run at all due to my knee injury and the race was only about 3 weeks away, but I was feeling optimistic so I signed up. The week prior to the SDW100 I had the Dartmoor discovery – 32 miles of hilly road around Dartmoor. I thought this would be the perfect tester run to check out the knee situation. I did steady run, falling around 15 minutes short of the time I would have intended had I been racing, but my knee held out! So, all set for the 100! On the day before the race I finished work a bit early, and my husband drove me up to Winchester. On our way we drove through a massive thunderstorm rolling across Salisbury plain. I was now getting quite excited, because I love running in cool wet weather, and was hopeful that the storm would clear the muggy heat of the past week.

During:
I went into the SDW100 knowing that there were a few GB girls running, which I felt took the pressure off me, as I had no intention to try to race those girls!! Starting out I was nervous because of the pain I experienced during the TP100. I was also a little worried about my knee holding out especially on the downhill stretches. I tried to settle into a slow swinging rhythm. I ran for a while with a group of girls, one of whom I recognised as Karen Hathaway who I met at the green man ultra. I also ran for a bit with a nippy lass who I later realised was Sharon Law. I pulled ahead a little way into the run because I prefer to run uphill than to walk. I spent the rest of the race expecting them to overtake me again.
The journey to the 27 mile checkpoint was a bit tough. I ached a little and felt a bit lethargic. But after 27 something seemed to kick in, and I became comfortable in my stride, my energy levels picked up. You know you’re built for ultras when your second wind doesn’t come until after the marathon point! I was feeling so cheerful that I picked a handful of flowers to give to my husband who was at the next checkpoint, and tucked one jauntily behind my ear while thinking ‘This is what running should be about!’

During the Cotswold way and the TP100 I had tended to linger at checkpoints. This time I tried to be in and out of them fairly fast. I did stop for a bit at 32 miles though, because they had jelly and icecream! I also stopped to give my husband his (now slightly wilted) flowers, and to top up on gels. I also drank a lot of orange juice! I was trying my hardest not to run out of fuel, knowing that I’d feel queasy later on.
I knew that the 50 mile checkpoint would be a boost for me, because my mate Darren Long was volunteering there. And sure enough, the sight of Dazza made me feel full of energy! By this point the heavens had opened and it was like I was running through a waterfall. As I left the checkpoint I remember him yelling after me to keep up the pace, and thinking ‘No problem, I’m loving this!’. I still felt comfortable. This was so different from the way I felt at 50 miles on the TP100!!
As I headed into the second half I began to recognise bits of the route from the SDW50 the previous year. I’ve never done a race where I know the route, and it was actually quite nice to have an idea of what was coming up! I knew there were a couple of pretty steep hills in this section and I did struggle a bit particularly at around the 75 mile mark when I had a massive hypo. Sweaty, shaky, legs turning to jelly, and I just had to sit by the track for a minute or 2. Thinking about it I realised I hadn’t taken on any fuel for a good 10 miles. I stuffed down 2 gels and a potato I found in my pocket (I’d picked it up at one of the checkpoints and completely forgotten about it!!). I also broke into a packet of dextrose tabs to give me some quick sugar. About 5 minutes after that I felt back to normal(ish).
The last 20 or so miles of the run are a bit of a blur. I remember an amazing sunset, a friendly duck, being freaked out massively by a pair of eyes in the dark which turned out to be a fox, and the guy on top of the hill 2 miles from the end pointing people down the correct route (what a hero!). That was where I got lost on the 50 last year. This time I stayed bang on course. I cruised (yes, cruised…that’s how I felt!) the final mile to the finish line. I crossed the line in 17 hours 36 minutes. I previously had no idea of my time, because I don’t wear a garmin, so it was a massive surprise to me! The finish line was, as always with Centurion, amazing. Hot food, friendly faces. But this time there was a part of me that knew I could have carried on. I was back out and running after only 1 days rest.
So, two 100’s. Two completely different experiences. And the knowledge that if I wanted to I could have gone faster on the second one! 

I think I’ve found my niche.

Green Man Ultra - Lessons learned.

Last night I came back from Bristol having completed the Green Man ultramarathon. This is a 46 mile race around the Community Forest PAth which circumnavigates Bristol. The run itself was not challenging in terms of terrain (mostly flat, quite a bit of mud but also quite a bit of tarmac paths), but rather navigation as the path is largly unmarked and follows a seemingly random route across fields, through housing estates, along river banks and roads. I learned several important lessons this weekend;

1. Tapering does make a difference, and 3 intense speedwork sessions in the week leading up to an ultra is not a smart idea!

2. You have to run an ultra at your own pace. Even if you know you would do a similar overall time to another runner, that doesn't mean you can match their pace for the entire distance. Some start fast then slow down, some keep a steady rhythm throughout, some start slow then speed up. 

3. If you want to run an unmarked route, you have to know it. Navigation whilst running is frustrating, very difficult and breaks your running rhythm

I started the run much faster than I would normally set out. I was a little nervous as I hadn't run over 35 miles since the Cotswold Century last september and really wanted to keep a steady pace to start. Most of my good runs I've started at the back of the pack, then I gradually end up overtaking people as they slow down and I keep on going. My strength is definately endurance rather than speed. In this case though my aim was to keep up with fellow MCUT member Stuart, who knew the route. However, after checkpoint 2 the initial burst of speed on top of legs aching from lack of tapering was taking its toll on me and I lost him after a couple of turns. I was now at the mercy of my own navigation, which failed pretty quickly despite having GPS and OS maps of the route. My only solution was to wait for the group behind me to catch up, as I knew the girl in that group had run the route before. The problem here was that her pace was much slower than my normal pace, and I would keep settling into a rhythm, only to pull away from her, have to stop and wait for her to catch up as I had no idea where I was going! A few times I tried to carry on but would end up missing a turn and having to backtrack. Frustrating to say the least!

Between checkpoint 4 and the finish we were caught up from behind by another lass who also knew the route. She was obviously a 'start slow and speed up' runner, as she was doing a fairly brisk pace, and so I hooked up with her. My dilema now was that I really wanted to finish in first place, but again had to rely on this lass for her knowledge of the route. However when we got to Clifton I knew the last 3 miles and having spent most of the race running much slower than normal I had quite a bit left in my tank, so I picked up my pace and pulled away from her. I felt a bit guilty doing this, as if I hadn't followed her, and indeed the lass behind (who came in 10 minutes behind us in the end) I would never have completed the run as I would have got cocmpletely lost. 

In the end I came in 2nd overall, 1st female (by only 1 minute on the girl behind me). The race finish was superb, with free hot food, sports massage, fantastic finishers goodie bag, and my husband and father waiting to take me to the pub! But overall I didn't enjoy this race, as I didn't run under my own steam, having to rely on others around me for route knowledge and as a result completely breaking with my normal race rhythm. 

So. Lessons learned. And I am now officially a Woodwose (http://gaveller.wordpress.com/about/) and hopefully a know myself a little better. 
However, I now know the route, and so I will be back next year to get the sub 7hr 30 time I was aiming for!

Cotswold way - hills and hornets

 I always find that as time passes following a race the memories of the event fade and leave me with just odd snippets in my head. Luckily my brain seems to permenantly store only the positive memories from long runs, which is probably why I continue to do them. Within days of completing a long run I will just remember being comfortable (probably because my biggest loathing is being out of breath, and ultra running doesn't involve this).
This run is different. This run was to be my nemesis after my first and to date only DNF in my last attempt at the distance (UTSW). I want to record the memories while every high and low is still seared across my frontal cortex!

I'd been feeling pretty dodgy the whole week before the race having completed the Dart 10k swim the weekend before and picked up something nasty in the water in the process. Squeezing guts, bad heart burn...was this going to be my undoing? As soon as we started running everything seemed to settle. And the start of this race was far gentler than the UTSW. No barging, no pushing the pace in the first 10. Just a lot of nice people out for a gentle bimble together. I soon settled into that lovely, leg-swinging easy-breathing 'keep it up all day' rhythm. I spent the first 10 or so miles with a chap from Scotland, before hitting the first of the bigger hills. It was only on the SDW50 that I realised ultra runners seem to be happy walking up hills then running down the other side. I'm the complete opposite, as the downhill stretches play merry hell with my hips, and so I soon lost my early race buddies up the long uphill stretches.

By the first checkpoint I was feeling a bit sad. Jeez, it's only a half marathon distance so far, and already my knees are hurting and I'm knackered! Maybe I'd been overdoing the distance during training? I stopped at this point to strip off some of the layers I'd been wearing, and this actually made me feel a hell of a lot better. Phew, it's not fatigue, I was just overheating!

From the first checkpoint we bimbled our way through some beautiful countryside before climbing up towards Cleeve Hill. As we ran up over downland with views across the whole of Worcestershire, the Malverns in the distance, the clear sky and smell of autumn in the air 'Helden' by Apocolyptica came onto my iPod...this was a Moment, and I felt like I could run forever.

The second checkpoint came quite quickly, and after a brief stop to fill up on water I set off into my second marathon. I was still reveling in the wonderful easy running feeling when 'BAM', searing pain in my thigh, followed a couple of seconds later by another in my backside. I looked down and..shiiiiiiiit, Hornets!! And the little bastards were chasing me!! UPHILL!!! Probably the fastest speed I achieved in the whole race. Initially the pain from the stings actually helped me as it distracted from the ache that was developing in my left hip. Later on in the night though the sting became a flipping nuisance.

About 5 miles from checkpoint 3 I caught up with a bunch of guys only to discover that they were the lead pack. Oh crap, I thought, this pace is going to come back and bite me later. I ran with them on to the next checkpoint at Birdlip. I lingered here a bit to stuff down some sandwiches, and most of the lads had left before I got underway again. At this point night was starting to fall, and as we headed into the trees the two other guys I was running with pulled away from me as my pace took a drop, and I had a massive slump in mood. The next 10 miles are a blur of pain and sadness. A pretty heavy fog had come down, and I was worrying a bit about whether I was even still on the right path, when I noticed lights behind me and the sensation of relief coupled with 'balls, I'm slowing down and being caught up from behind' washed over me. I stopped to let them catch me, and then realised it was the same guys I'd been running with before the previous checkpoint! They'd taken a wrong turn, and caught me up from behind. I fell back into pace with them and began to feel much more cheerful about things again.

A short while after I had hooked up the the other guys we split into 2 groups, with three of them pulling away from us, leaving myself with Robbie, Rob and Ben. We didn't discuss carrying on as a group, but by general unspoken consensus and fortune matching us pretty well pace-wise (which was bloody amazing to me after I learned that Rob puts in a 2.45 marathon!) we continued as 4 for the rest of the race. At the 53 mile checkpoint we were told we were in first place which was a bit of a surprise, and down to the fact that the other 3 lads had gone wrong again and were now around 20 minutes behind us again. Jason, who was meeting me at each checkpoint, was over the moon that I was running as a group, and encouraged me to keep up the pace to stick with these guys despite his earlier warnings of keeping a gentle pace throughout. 'Aw, bless' I thought, he's getting all competative for me. Not the case. Turns out that the checkpoint guys had come across an inordinate number of doggers in several locations along the route, and Jase was terrified about me running on my own as a result! Obviously not much else to do in Worcestershire on a saturday night. Still, thanks to the fog we were spared from too many graphic scenes!

Now I don't run with a garmin. In fact, I hate the damn things, which is a source of some guilt to me as mine was a birthday present from Jase and I know how much the bloody thing cost. Oh, I'll use it on the rare occasions I do speed work, but generally I find it completely ruins my longer runs as I lack the discipline not to constantly look to see how I'm doing. I like to get lost in a run, which is exactly what happened during the second half of this race. As we headed into the small hours and the fog got thicker I started to suffer more and more from overwhelming sleepiness. I began to feel drunk. And not good drunk. Arsey, grumpy and slightly vomitey drunk. In truth I think this experience only lasted for around an hour, but time became quite distorted in my mind and when I finally snapped out of the feeling I felt so guilty for subjecting my fellow runners to my mood. But then I noticed that each of us in turn was suffering from the grumps. Things became a bit tense when the guys who had been behind overtook us. At first none of us mentioned it, but then Robbie brought it up and once we'd all had a chance to vent our disappointment things became much better, and we pushed on.

Checkpoints make ultra distance so much more manageable mentally, as they allow you to break the run into do-able chunks. The other, and of course far more significant thing about them are the wonderful people you meet on each one. They give you the mental equivalent of a hot bath and a nap, and provide a fantastic selection of snacks to keep you going despite your stomach trying to reject anything you put near it. For me all the night checkpoints have rolled into a blur of lights, tastes and jokes in my head. By the time we'd passed the 63 checkpoint, the 'manageable' distance of 15 miles to the next one seemed like an insurmountable task. In truth, I don't even remember checkpoint 78. However checkpoint 87 will stick in my mind forever because....what's that smell....? OH YES! It's BACON SANDWICHES!! Food of the gods!

From point 78 we pushed on, with the end in sight, but also seeming such a massive distance away! We'd been reduced to a kind of run-shuffle, expending as little energy as possible whilst trying to maintain maximum possible pace. Somewhere between checkpoints 93 and 99 we were stopped by a woman with a tractor who wanted help unhitching a grass-cutter from it. The looks on our faces must have been priceless! She seemed less than amused that these fine strapping lads were too weak to help. We tried to explain why, made our apologies, and shuffled away as fast as our weary legs would take us.

Not long before the finish was due we crested the brow of a hill and...there was Bath! And, oh my god it still looked such a long way! If I'm honest I have no idea how I ran these last few miles. I trailed behind the guys, who seemed to have found a new lease of life with the impending finish. Just before we got to the end we were met by a marshall who ran us through the main street of Bath, clearing pedestrians from our path. We were frankly too tired to have coped with dodging and weaving in a busy shopping centre! As we rounded the corner and saw the abbey there in front of us, we threw our arms around each other shoulders and.....

...Finished!
The whole run was an amazing experience, but what I will take from it the most is the friendship of those guys through the night.