It's now a week after the Gobi challenge. We've had a 6 hour bus ride back to a holiday Ger camp in Dalganzadgad (sp?), a day in Ulan Bataar and then a few days in Beijing relaxing and being tourists. I'm now flying to Tokyo to work a bit at Ping Japan before returning home.
My knee has no pain any more, my feet are feeling good and look normal, and I'm back to full strength and rest. At least, I feel that way. To be honest, I felt okay with the world within a couple of days of the end and that was a big surprise to me. During the race, days 4 and 5 were the ones I felt physically the worst, although the bad knee on day 6 was my biggest worry as far as not finishing.
So, the race overall was a great success. My biggest fear was either illness or injury forcing me to pull out and I stayed in large part clear of both of those. I assume that's everyone's biggest worry about a race like this. No one wants to come all this way and then pull out for whatever reason. I have huge sympathy for those who didn't make the end. I found the first 2 days of running reasonably comfortable and actually quite good fun charging through the gorges. Even though I was some way back in 3rd place for those 2 stages I was running strong, enjoying the scenery and not finding the food or camping too difficult.
Stage 3 was more of a watermark. I think it was visually the most dull of all the runs - plains the whole way and the longest stage of the race to boot. After 10K when I was down in 4th place I really wondered if all my strength was deserting me. For the next 3 hours I started tapping into reserves I've not used since my 750 mile bike ride nearly 10 years ago. As I managed to pass Ian and then eventually Budjargal and finish the day strongly it gave me confidence for day 4 that, even as I was struggling up the hill, I was as strong as anyone else out there.
The last 2 days were characterized by a few things: running with Owen when I could, managing injuries, excessive heat and enormous sand dunes. I had my toughest day of athletics ever on day 5. Feeling sick in the morning, battling on for the first 20K at good pace, the pain in the left knee, being in big trouble from 25 to 30K and then slowly managing to press on for the last 10K or so. In a lot of ways that's my finest achievement in sport. The last day was a more leisurely affair, staying with Owen, not risking our injuries too much. The big dunes were one of the most spectacular things I've ever come across and climbing up them was a privilege.
Overall, the 20 or so competitors were an interesting, eclectic, varied group of people and it was fun getting to know them. Dave, Phil and the Gobi Challenge team were all great to talk to and clearly have a passion for the Gobi. I have a reservations about the organization and particular the dissemination of information but that didn't detract much from my enjoyment of it all. The Gobi itself is spectacular - raw, wild, unspoiled and vast. I doubt I'll see it again in the flesh, who knows, but the world is a big place. It was an amazing place to have visited.
Would I recommend this to someone else? Probably someone who's really after a rustic experience and can very much fend for themselves and look after themselves. Probably not to someone looking for a well-drilled race or really looking to maximize what they get for their money. I'd recommend it to someone like myself, but I saw enough people grumbling to know it's not for everyone.
Will I do another ultra? Well, it was amazing and I did well and came through healthy. I did enjoy it but mostly because the Greene family were there and I feel like I challenged myself and won. I think I'd do another if friends were doing it and it's a bit different kind of race. Maybe in a couple of years...
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Day 6
Day 6 course: 34K - 8K big sand dunes, 19K plains trails, 7K huge sand dunes
Times: Budjargal - 4:40, Owen and Me - 5:10
A really tough but tremendous final day of the challenge. My leg was still hurting this morning and we think it's probably either my lateral hamstring or perhaps the IT band. The doctor worked on it but that didn't really help much. Owen's foot has not got any better and he was tramadol to ease the pain.
The stage went straight up into the dunes to a high point where we met Ali Greene checking everyone in. Budjargal had already shot off into the distance and both Owen and I were struggling enough to be quite a bit slower than previous days. At the end of the dunes we were joined by Ian who proceeded to stay with us for almost all of the plains. We walked a lot and ran in patches for the 19K across the plains, seeming to take an age to cover the ground. Behind us, Ryan was going very well and kept us in sight for most of that time. I couldn't run more than about 200 yards without my knee seizing up and having to walk for 100 yards or so. Ryan later said that the sight of me catching up with Owen and Ian, then falling back, then catching them again for quite a few K across the desert was a funny one to watch. It was actually really nice to have some time to chat with Ian and Owen, even if it was frustrating to be held back so much by my knee.
A couple of K before we spotted camp my knee eased up and we ran from there, losing Ian in the process. After a quick water fill-up it was time to head straight up Khongoryn Els, the biggest sand dune in Asia. From camp the ridge loomed over us and we tackled the dune head on with a decent reserve of energy after a slow start to the day. I'd been worried about the climb with a bad knee but it didn't hurt on the way up. Everything else did though.
There was no obvious way up on hard sand so we gave it a full frontal assault, scrambling up on hands and knees, stopping every minute or so to catch a breath and a drink of water. It was also a chance to cool down hot hands, burning from the heat of the sand. By half way up we were breathing harder than any other time in the race and it must have taken over 1/2 hour to ascend the few hundred metres up to the top. My shoes were absolutely full of sand and as I stopped to dump them out Owen pressed on toward Phil at the far end of the ridge. The view from the top was amazing - mountains to north and south, the full extent of the dunes spreading out to the east, back the way we'd come over the last 6 days. Footing at the top was not easy and so it was a fair old trudge along the top. When we finally got to Phil it felt like we'd conquered the dunes and with it the Gobi Challenge. All that was left was a spectacularly fast descent and a quick 2K amble to the finish.
Given our slower overall pace for the day, we were less tired than other days and therefore even more able to enjoy seeing everyone else come in to the finish. The warm-ish beers that appeared mid-afternoon were most welcome and the goat that gave its life to be our race feast was appreciated fully. Owen may well have broken the course record, even with a slower final day. Budjargal ended up with a slightly faster time than me, but it appears he missed a couple of bits of the last day which saved him a few minutes. He was in the supported runner category so I finished a clear 2nd overall but regardless I enjoyed the challenge of running against him and was proud to finish 2nd on days 3, 4 and 5.
All in all I was extremely pleased to finish in mostly good health, with no blisters, faster than I would have thought, and having run about 75 to 80% of the whole course. I don't know that I'm desperate to do another multi-day event straight away but the experience of a week with all these great new people in this wonderful place would make me open to the idea of another at some point.
Times: Budjargal - 4:40, Owen and Me - 5:10
A really tough but tremendous final day of the challenge. My leg was still hurting this morning and we think it's probably either my lateral hamstring or perhaps the IT band. The doctor worked on it but that didn't really help much. Owen's foot has not got any better and he was tramadol to ease the pain.
The stage went straight up into the dunes to a high point where we met Ali Greene checking everyone in. Budjargal had already shot off into the distance and both Owen and I were struggling enough to be quite a bit slower than previous days. At the end of the dunes we were joined by Ian who proceeded to stay with us for almost all of the plains. We walked a lot and ran in patches for the 19K across the plains, seeming to take an age to cover the ground. Behind us, Ryan was going very well and kept us in sight for most of that time. I couldn't run more than about 200 yards without my knee seizing up and having to walk for 100 yards or so. Ryan later said that the sight of me catching up with Owen and Ian, then falling back, then catching them again for quite a few K across the desert was a funny one to watch. It was actually really nice to have some time to chat with Ian and Owen, even if it was frustrating to be held back so much by my knee.
A couple of K before we spotted camp my knee eased up and we ran from there, losing Ian in the process. After a quick water fill-up it was time to head straight up Khongoryn Els, the biggest sand dune in Asia. From camp the ridge loomed over us and we tackled the dune head on with a decent reserve of energy after a slow start to the day. I'd been worried about the climb with a bad knee but it didn't hurt on the way up. Everything else did though.
There was no obvious way up on hard sand so we gave it a full frontal assault, scrambling up on hands and knees, stopping every minute or so to catch a breath and a drink of water. It was also a chance to cool down hot hands, burning from the heat of the sand. By half way up we were breathing harder than any other time in the race and it must have taken over 1/2 hour to ascend the few hundred metres up to the top. My shoes were absolutely full of sand and as I stopped to dump them out Owen pressed on toward Phil at the far end of the ridge. The view from the top was amazing - mountains to north and south, the full extent of the dunes spreading out to the east, back the way we'd come over the last 6 days. Footing at the top was not easy and so it was a fair old trudge along the top. When we finally got to Phil it felt like we'd conquered the dunes and with it the Gobi Challenge. All that was left was a spectacularly fast descent and a quick 2K amble to the finish.
Given our slower overall pace for the day, we were less tired than other days and therefore even more able to enjoy seeing everyone else come in to the finish. The warm-ish beers that appeared mid-afternoon were most welcome and the goat that gave its life to be our race feast was appreciated fully. Owen may well have broken the course record, even with a slower final day. Budjargal ended up with a slightly faster time than me, but it appears he missed a couple of bits of the last day which saved him a few minutes. He was in the supported runner category so I finished a clear 2nd overall but regardless I enjoyed the challenge of running against him and was proud to finish 2nd on days 3, 4 and 5.
All in all I was extremely pleased to finish in mostly good health, with no blisters, faster than I would have thought, and having run about 75 to 80% of the whole course. I don't know that I'm desperate to do another multi-day event straight away but the experience of a week with all these great new people in this wonderful place would make me open to the idea of another at some point.
Day 5
Day 5 course: 42.1K: 19K track to the dunes, 5K dunes, 18K track to the dune camp.
Times: Owen - 4:25, Me - 4:40, Budjargal - 5:05
Where to start? What an eventful day. I felt pretty ropey this morning - kind of sick in the stomach. Owen was clearly struggling a bit too with his foot, and took some fairly strong painkillers. I don't know what was causing my malaise but breakfast didn't go down that well and I wasn't feeling very happy about the forthcoming marathon. We decided to run together for as long as we could and bashed out the first 18K or so to the dunes with plenty of banter and a fair amount of "digging in" on both our parts. Either way, we had a decent lead over the rest and were making better progress than we may have felt like we were. The dunes were slow and steady and as we limped our way over them we could see Budjargal in the background. My left leg was hurting quite a bit by this point - it seemed almost like cramp, a shooting pain down the left hand side around the knee area. As we hit the post-dunes 24K checkpoint we stopped to take on water and when I tried to set off I doubled up in pain. Budjargal came charging past at that point and since I could hardly move, let alone run, I sent Owen off chasing him. I took a few minutes to walk to see how the pain would dissipate and took a quite comical video segment where I discussed my "low point" of the race.
The next 12K or so were really tough - the hardest of my running life. Every time I switched from running to walking or stopping I was in serious pain. However, I could just about keep up a bit of a shuffle and manage the pain so I trudged through the next hour and a bit, keeping an eye on Budjargal up in the distance, willing myself through 1K at a time. Eventually, at about 36K I realised Budjargal was stopped and caught him up. He was desperate for water, having run out some time ago it seemed. I gave him a big drag from my camelback and pointed out the van up ahead signalling the checkpoint. I took some water from Dave but didn't think to re-fill the camelback, which I assumed had plenty of water in, and then made a break for the finish. It was only when the van was a spec behind me that I realised Budjargal had taken all my water and not told me. I took the tough decision that with under 5K to go I would be ok to charge on to camp and that certainly provided incentive to cover the last few minutes as quickly as possible.
I arrived in camp about 15 minutes after Owen and about 20 minutes before Budjargal. As we saw the Mongolian running into camp we realised that he was fully naked, save for his hat and running shoes. One of the most bizarre sights of my whole life. His english is limited and about the most we could figure was that he felt it would be a good surprise to us all. That is certainly true.
People rolled in all day and we enjoyed supporting people as they came into camp, as we have enjoyed it all race. Remarkably, given the heat and the tough course, we had just 1 more runner drop out. Rhys was forced to stop with heat exhaustion just 4K or so from the end. He was on a drip all night and looked a million times better in the morning. Mood in the camp was a bit low after such a brutal stage and we even had a slightly fractious team meeting in the evening, but much of that was surely down to tiredness.
My leg still hurts a lot and the efforts of Orshok, the race doctor, have not really helped that much. Owen's blister looks even worse too. Tomorrow is the last day though, and I think we'll try to stay together for it.
Times: Owen - 4:25, Me - 4:40, Budjargal - 5:05
Where to start? What an eventful day. I felt pretty ropey this morning - kind of sick in the stomach. Owen was clearly struggling a bit too with his foot, and took some fairly strong painkillers. I don't know what was causing my malaise but breakfast didn't go down that well and I wasn't feeling very happy about the forthcoming marathon. We decided to run together for as long as we could and bashed out the first 18K or so to the dunes with plenty of banter and a fair amount of "digging in" on both our parts. Either way, we had a decent lead over the rest and were making better progress than we may have felt like we were. The dunes were slow and steady and as we limped our way over them we could see Budjargal in the background. My left leg was hurting quite a bit by this point - it seemed almost like cramp, a shooting pain down the left hand side around the knee area. As we hit the post-dunes 24K checkpoint we stopped to take on water and when I tried to set off I doubled up in pain. Budjargal came charging past at that point and since I could hardly move, let alone run, I sent Owen off chasing him. I took a few minutes to walk to see how the pain would dissipate and took a quite comical video segment where I discussed my "low point" of the race.
The next 12K or so were really tough - the hardest of my running life. Every time I switched from running to walking or stopping I was in serious pain. However, I could just about keep up a bit of a shuffle and manage the pain so I trudged through the next hour and a bit, keeping an eye on Budjargal up in the distance, willing myself through 1K at a time. Eventually, at about 36K I realised Budjargal was stopped and caught him up. He was desperate for water, having run out some time ago it seemed. I gave him a big drag from my camelback and pointed out the van up ahead signalling the checkpoint. I took some water from Dave but didn't think to re-fill the camelback, which I assumed had plenty of water in, and then made a break for the finish. It was only when the van was a spec behind me that I realised Budjargal had taken all my water and not told me. I took the tough decision that with under 5K to go I would be ok to charge on to camp and that certainly provided incentive to cover the last few minutes as quickly as possible.
I arrived in camp about 15 minutes after Owen and about 20 minutes before Budjargal. As we saw the Mongolian running into camp we realised that he was fully naked, save for his hat and running shoes. One of the most bizarre sights of my whole life. His english is limited and about the most we could figure was that he felt it would be a good surprise to us all. That is certainly true.
People rolled in all day and we enjoyed supporting people as they came into camp, as we have enjoyed it all race. Remarkably, given the heat and the tough course, we had just 1 more runner drop out. Rhys was forced to stop with heat exhaustion just 4K or so from the end. He was on a drip all night and looked a million times better in the morning. Mood in the camp was a bit low after such a brutal stage and we even had a slightly fractious team meeting in the evening, but much of that was surely down to tiredness.
My leg still hurts a lot and the efforts of Orshok, the race doctor, have not really helped that much. Owen's blister looks even worse too. Tomorrow is the last day though, and I think we'll try to stay together for it.
Day 4
Day 4 course: 38K: 20K flat plains, 10K uphill plains, 8K up soft sand canyon and back down gorge into campsite.
Times: Owen - 3:54, Me - 4:10, Budjargal - 4:16
After a somewhat brutal but dull flat marathon stage yesterday, this stage began with 20K of the same. Spirits were fairly high in camp but a calm, cloudless morning implied a very hot day to come. I went off at a reasonable pace and found that it was enough to keep Owen in sight ahead of me and the others well behind me.
That first 20K was a steady accumulation of distance on a washboard track with a fairly strong headwind. Footing was a bit tricky and the wind was quite strength-sapping but as I passed Phil at checkpoint 2 the legs still felt reasonably good. The next 9 to 10K was a tough slog up the hill - never too steep to totally rule out running but relentless enough that my progress was a series of mental bargains: run a few minutes, walk a minute or two, repeat... By this point I'd lost sight of Owen ahead and everyone behind. It was a pretty lonely day.
At the 29K checkpoint the view was fantastic: back over the plains we'd just come from, the mountains flanking the plains and then the dunes up ahead in the distance. The terrain also suddenly became a lot more interesting for us runners. At first it was rocky and then turning up into the canyon it was a winding soft sand track that headed north before a sharp right turn into the gorge where camp awaited. The soft sand was a bit of a killer, especially after 3/4 of the day. I decided I couldn't run on that sand but equally I couldn't find a reliable hard-packed path so it was a combination of walking along with the odd jog on a side trail. As I finally got to the end of the softest sand I stopped for a quick shake out of the shoes and sauntered down to the finish. By this point my hips were really sore and I'd lost any rhythm from my running but I'd come in 2nd and just about moved into 2nd overall so I was happy with the day's work.
The camp is right in the gorge, surrounded by gorgeous high cliffs of craggy rocks with rays of sunshine peeking through in a constantly changing pattern. Not long after we'd got our breaths back and had some food, Mal arrived in camp at some considerable pace, concerned that Ryan had got lost just a few K back. Typically Ryan was finishing 5th with Mal in 6th or 7th but today we hadn't seen Ryan. We all piled into one of the Russian trucks and charged off to where Ryan had missed 3 orange flags at the turn and carried on north into the distance. With his silver sleeping pad billowing behind him like a superhero cape we were able to spot him about 3K up the wrong track, devoid of water. My guess is that we averted a real potential disaster there.
Physically I'm doing okay. No blisters still but sand dunes to come the next 2 days. My knees are a bit sore and so are my hips while I run but my biggest worry is just my energy levels. Every day has been harder than the last and today food was not very appealing. Having said that I've been running strong so fingers crossed. Owen has a really nasty blister on his foot. It looks very painful. I'm sure he'll still finish strong but that has to slow him down a bit. It has to hurt a lot. I think he could break the course record so hopefully it won't affect things too much.
Just one drop-out today - Mark the big Scot has had to stop with really bad blisters on both his feet. He's done 3 ultras this year and has taken it in good spirit. Everyone else actually looks okay right now. The slowest of the walkers, Robert, is taking nearly 12 hours to finish each stage but seems to be in good spirits. Then there's Piero on the bike. He's doing great, but I don't know how he'll tackle sand dunes with that.
Times: Owen - 3:54, Me - 4:10, Budjargal - 4:16
After a somewhat brutal but dull flat marathon stage yesterday, this stage began with 20K of the same. Spirits were fairly high in camp but a calm, cloudless morning implied a very hot day to come. I went off at a reasonable pace and found that it was enough to keep Owen in sight ahead of me and the others well behind me.
That first 20K was a steady accumulation of distance on a washboard track with a fairly strong headwind. Footing was a bit tricky and the wind was quite strength-sapping but as I passed Phil at checkpoint 2 the legs still felt reasonably good. The next 9 to 10K was a tough slog up the hill - never too steep to totally rule out running but relentless enough that my progress was a series of mental bargains: run a few minutes, walk a minute or two, repeat... By this point I'd lost sight of Owen ahead and everyone behind. It was a pretty lonely day.
At the 29K checkpoint the view was fantastic: back over the plains we'd just come from, the mountains flanking the plains and then the dunes up ahead in the distance. The terrain also suddenly became a lot more interesting for us runners. At first it was rocky and then turning up into the canyon it was a winding soft sand track that headed north before a sharp right turn into the gorge where camp awaited. The soft sand was a bit of a killer, especially after 3/4 of the day. I decided I couldn't run on that sand but equally I couldn't find a reliable hard-packed path so it was a combination of walking along with the odd jog on a side trail. As I finally got to the end of the softest sand I stopped for a quick shake out of the shoes and sauntered down to the finish. By this point my hips were really sore and I'd lost any rhythm from my running but I'd come in 2nd and just about moved into 2nd overall so I was happy with the day's work.
The camp is right in the gorge, surrounded by gorgeous high cliffs of craggy rocks with rays of sunshine peeking through in a constantly changing pattern. Not long after we'd got our breaths back and had some food, Mal arrived in camp at some considerable pace, concerned that Ryan had got lost just a few K back. Typically Ryan was finishing 5th with Mal in 6th or 7th but today we hadn't seen Ryan. We all piled into one of the Russian trucks and charged off to where Ryan had missed 3 orange flags at the turn and carried on north into the distance. With his silver sleeping pad billowing behind him like a superhero cape we were able to spot him about 3K up the wrong track, devoid of water. My guess is that we averted a real potential disaster there.
Physically I'm doing okay. No blisters still but sand dunes to come the next 2 days. My knees are a bit sore and so are my hips while I run but my biggest worry is just my energy levels. Every day has been harder than the last and today food was not very appealing. Having said that I've been running strong so fingers crossed. Owen has a really nasty blister on his foot. It looks very painful. I'm sure he'll still finish strong but that has to slow him down a bit. It has to hurt a lot. I think he could break the course record so hopefully it won't affect things too much.
Just one drop-out today - Mark the big Scot has had to stop with really bad blisters on both his feet. He's done 3 ultras this year and has taken it in good spirit. Everyone else actually looks okay right now. The slowest of the walkers, Robert, is taking nearly 12 hours to finish each stage but seems to be in good spirits. Then there's Piero on the bike. He's doing great, but I don't know how he'll tackle sand dunes with that.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Day 3
Day 3 course: 43K total: desert plain all the way.
Times: Owen - 3:26, Me - 4:10, Budjargal - 4:20, Ian - 5:00
This was a long, long day on the trail. The first thing to remark on is that all 20 or so runners and walkers are still going strong after the longest stage. The last 2 to finish, Robert and Una - a local girl, came into camp around 11 1/2 hours after starting. That really doesn't give much recovery time before tomorrow.
Today's weather was incredibly friendly. It was a cloudy and cool start and it stayed that way until about 11am, giving us all 3 hours of really good running conditions. For me the last hour was pretty hot. For those further back it was a bit more time in the heat, but at least everyone had got some miles under their belt in the cool. There was even a sprinkling of rain for us front runners which was very welcome, although I hear that it was a bit more of a downpour for everyone else.
This morning Owen and Budjargal shot off like rockets so I quickly settled into my own comfortable pace behind them. After a few K I realised that Ian was just behind me and so I ran with him for a bit before falling behind him. I think that my pace was similar to previous days so others were taking better advantage of the conditions. At the 10K checkpoint I was feeling good but in 4th place. The next 5K took us up to a small settlement which we bypassed and then headed straight down the plain towards absolutely nothing. By this point I'd re-passed Ian and had Budjargal ahead in the distance to follow. At the 20K checkpoint I'd timed that I was around 2 minutes behind him and still feeling ok.
2 hours signalled the reward of some tunes on the iPod so the Proclaimers, Tom Jones, Daft Punk et al kept me focussed for a while since the plains didn't hold much interest. By 30K my legs were pretty sore and the sun was out but I had closed the gap to less than a minute behind Budjargal. Determined to hold my pace I eventually passed him around 35K and motored on for a bit before having to walk a minute or two just before the last checkpoint at 38K. I did manage to keep Budjargal out of sight behind me and even though the last few K were slow and sore I managed to finish in 2nd, feeling very proud of myself.
In overall standings I'm still 3rd but had a nice finish and feel like 2nd is a possibility. The knees are sore and there's one tiny blister on my toe, but that got popped by Budjargal standing on my foot in camp. Either way, apart from fatigue there's nothing to slow me down too much. There were a few grumbles in camp today about poor camp state (it was a miserable, barren camp ground, but then there wasn't much choice down here on the plains) and lack of communication but generally everyone's been doing well with the event. Owen's absolutely flying and could win even if he walked in from here I think. My feet have held up very well. I noticed I'd lost a layer of skin from the whole bottom but it all looks good. Ali gave both Owen and me a calf massage which was much appreciated and event commented how "great my feet looked". I don't think anyone's told me that before. Right now I'd be very keen for a beer and a pizza.
Times: Owen - 3:26, Me - 4:10, Budjargal - 4:20, Ian - 5:00
This was a long, long day on the trail. The first thing to remark on is that all 20 or so runners and walkers are still going strong after the longest stage. The last 2 to finish, Robert and Una - a local girl, came into camp around 11 1/2 hours after starting. That really doesn't give much recovery time before tomorrow.
Today's weather was incredibly friendly. It was a cloudy and cool start and it stayed that way until about 11am, giving us all 3 hours of really good running conditions. For me the last hour was pretty hot. For those further back it was a bit more time in the heat, but at least everyone had got some miles under their belt in the cool. There was even a sprinkling of rain for us front runners which was very welcome, although I hear that it was a bit more of a downpour for everyone else.
This morning Owen and Budjargal shot off like rockets so I quickly settled into my own comfortable pace behind them. After a few K I realised that Ian was just behind me and so I ran with him for a bit before falling behind him. I think that my pace was similar to previous days so others were taking better advantage of the conditions. At the 10K checkpoint I was feeling good but in 4th place. The next 5K took us up to a small settlement which we bypassed and then headed straight down the plain towards absolutely nothing. By this point I'd re-passed Ian and had Budjargal ahead in the distance to follow. At the 20K checkpoint I'd timed that I was around 2 minutes behind him and still feeling ok.
2 hours signalled the reward of some tunes on the iPod so the Proclaimers, Tom Jones, Daft Punk et al kept me focussed for a while since the plains didn't hold much interest. By 30K my legs were pretty sore and the sun was out but I had closed the gap to less than a minute behind Budjargal. Determined to hold my pace I eventually passed him around 35K and motored on for a bit before having to walk a minute or two just before the last checkpoint at 38K. I did manage to keep Budjargal out of sight behind me and even though the last few K were slow and sore I managed to finish in 2nd, feeling very proud of myself.
In overall standings I'm still 3rd but had a nice finish and feel like 2nd is a possibility. The knees are sore and there's one tiny blister on my toe, but that got popped by Budjargal standing on my foot in camp. Either way, apart from fatigue there's nothing to slow me down too much. There were a few grumbles in camp today about poor camp state (it was a miserable, barren camp ground, but then there wasn't much choice down here on the plains) and lack of communication but generally everyone's been doing well with the event. Owen's absolutely flying and could win even if he walked in from here I think. My feet have held up very well. I noticed I'd lost a layer of skin from the whole bottom but it all looks good. Ali gave both Owen and me a calf massage which was much appreciated and event commented how "great my feet looked". I don't think anyone's told me that before. Right now I'd be very keen for a beer and a pizza.
Day 2
Day 2 Course: 35K total: 10K uphill through canyon, 10K downhill through gorge, 15K slight downhill across the plain to camp.
Times: Owen - 3:05, Budjargal - 3:40, Paul 3:50
I'll start by describing how I feel right now, 3 hours after the finish, and then describe the run itself. Yesterday I felt fine after the run, tired but not overly sore, somewhat like I would feel after a long training run. Today there are quite a few things that hurt. My shoulders are sore from the pack, my bicepts hurt (I can only think that it's from using my arms that much more than usual), the hips are a bit sore and my achilles tendons are both very tight. I'm also feeling a lot more fatigued but happy with a good day's effort.
The first few K were the same as yesterday, then we turned right and up a fairly steep hill. Owen took off at a strong pace and I settled into a pace just a little ahead of Budjargal. The walkers started an hour before us so some time before the first checkpoint we were passing them - a welcome bit of cheer.
The second 10K was thorugh a wide gorge that slowly narrowed to a very interesting, winding, high walled corridoor. I saw one of the vans go past me and then caught it right back up again as it had to slow drastically to get along the wet and muddy path. At 20K I felt pretty decent and as I was filling my camelback Budjargal flew past me and off into the distance. I took a few photos, as I tried to do each checkpoint, put my iPod on for the first time and set off in belated, and not particularly hot, pursuit.
We climbed a steep path up onto the plateau and suddenly I could see for what seemed like hundreds of miles in every direction. The whole rest of the stage was a trek down the plain, fairly dull but somewhat comfortable running. Everyone I spoke to found it tough though - I think the relentless nature of the trail made it more mentally taxing than anything else. I couldn't ever quite catch Budjargal though I could see him for most of the last 10K. He finished 10 minutes ahead, but in the grand scheme of things 10 minutes is not all that much. You never know, 10K could still be an option.
I'm starting to feel the aches and pains now and I've had a headache while may well be a bit of dehydration. I'm bloody hungry as well. At least there was a cold stream near the campsite so I got to clean off and cool down. I also got to see camels in our camp when I arrived. You don't get that every day.
Times: Owen - 3:05, Budjargal - 3:40, Paul 3:50
I'll start by describing how I feel right now, 3 hours after the finish, and then describe the run itself. Yesterday I felt fine after the run, tired but not overly sore, somewhat like I would feel after a long training run. Today there are quite a few things that hurt. My shoulders are sore from the pack, my bicepts hurt (I can only think that it's from using my arms that much more than usual), the hips are a bit sore and my achilles tendons are both very tight. I'm also feeling a lot more fatigued but happy with a good day's effort.
The first few K were the same as yesterday, then we turned right and up a fairly steep hill. Owen took off at a strong pace and I settled into a pace just a little ahead of Budjargal. The walkers started an hour before us so some time before the first checkpoint we were passing them - a welcome bit of cheer.
The second 10K was thorugh a wide gorge that slowly narrowed to a very interesting, winding, high walled corridoor. I saw one of the vans go past me and then caught it right back up again as it had to slow drastically to get along the wet and muddy path. At 20K I felt pretty decent and as I was filling my camelback Budjargal flew past me and off into the distance. I took a few photos, as I tried to do each checkpoint, put my iPod on for the first time and set off in belated, and not particularly hot, pursuit.
We climbed a steep path up onto the plateau and suddenly I could see for what seemed like hundreds of miles in every direction. The whole rest of the stage was a trek down the plain, fairly dull but somewhat comfortable running. Everyone I spoke to found it tough though - I think the relentless nature of the trail made it more mentally taxing than anything else. I couldn't ever quite catch Budjargal though I could see him for most of the last 10K. He finished 10 minutes ahead, but in the grand scheme of things 10 minutes is not all that much. You never know, 10K could still be an option.
I'm starting to feel the aches and pains now and I've had a headache while may well be a bit of dehydration. I'm bloody hungry as well. At least there was a cold stream near the campsite so I got to clean off and cool down. I also got to see camels in our camp when I arrived. You don't get that every day.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Gobi Challenge Day 1
Course for Day 1: 28K total - 10K steady uphill through valley, 10K steady downhill through gorge, 8K up and down along dirt road.
Times: Owen: 2:27, Budjargal 2:46, Me: 2:51.
Waking up at 6am, feeling refreshed from a surprisingly good night's sleep in my ridiculously expensive new sleeping bag and on my now 2/3 length ridgerest mat, I was keen to get started. The previous day was a good chance to get settled in at camp and go through all the kit, but frankly it was a long buildup and everyone was ready to go. I made a few tricky decisions on kit: no mess tin - evn though it was the mug that had been up Mount McKinley recently; a spare T-shirt did make the cut - knowing I'd have hours to kill each day after the run; a front back (Owen managed to get rid of his but I needed the space) and finally a good amount of time spent taking all the food out of the bulky vacuum packs and into ziplocks. Every gram helps.
As the day began we assembled on the line, all fully kitted up with the exception of the 3 Mongolian runners who were doing the race "supported", meaning all their kit was in the van and they just carried water. Steve and Ali (Owen's parents) were up at checkpoint 1 waiting for us with water. Owen, Budjargal and myself went off at the same pace and quickly moved away from the rest of the pack. At around 5k the pace seemed too much for me and I dropped away from them. At that stage I couldn't see anyone in front or behind, something I'd experience quite a bit more. Everyone was feeling the thin air of the 6000ft+ altitude and also the steady uphill. I managed to run all bar the steepest uphill part and felt good going into the first checkpoint.
After a quick water and salt tab stop I charged on into te gorge - a beautiful 10K down through a narrow rocky pass with a stream running along te whole winding route. Most of us got wet feet, myself included. By the 20K checkpoint I was ready for a quick stop and a chat with Dave, the race organiser. Moving out of the gorge I climbed up onto a plain and then faced a continuous 8K of rolling, stregnth-sapping hills. Those last few K were a lot tougher than they looked. The similar terrain and constant up and downhill made it difficult to get any rhythm or perspective. I did manage to run down to the finish at a decent pace to see a very fresh looking Owen and a just-finished Budjargal. After about 1/2 hour Ian came into camp next and from then on it was a steady stream of the runners, the run-walkers and then eventually the walkers.
Physically I felt good. No major aches and pains over and above a long training run. Pretty happy to finish as quickly as I did.
Times: Owen: 2:27, Budjargal 2:46, Me: 2:51.
Waking up at 6am, feeling refreshed from a surprisingly good night's sleep in my ridiculously expensive new sleeping bag and on my now 2/3 length ridgerest mat, I was keen to get started. The previous day was a good chance to get settled in at camp and go through all the kit, but frankly it was a long buildup and everyone was ready to go. I made a few tricky decisions on kit: no mess tin - evn though it was the mug that had been up Mount McKinley recently; a spare T-shirt did make the cut - knowing I'd have hours to kill each day after the run; a front back (Owen managed to get rid of his but I needed the space) and finally a good amount of time spent taking all the food out of the bulky vacuum packs and into ziplocks. Every gram helps.
As the day began we assembled on the line, all fully kitted up with the exception of the 3 Mongolian runners who were doing the race "supported", meaning all their kit was in the van and they just carried water. Steve and Ali (Owen's parents) were up at checkpoint 1 waiting for us with water. Owen, Budjargal and myself went off at the same pace and quickly moved away from the rest of the pack. At around 5k the pace seemed too much for me and I dropped away from them. At that stage I couldn't see anyone in front or behind, something I'd experience quite a bit more. Everyone was feeling the thin air of the 6000ft+ altitude and also the steady uphill. I managed to run all bar the steepest uphill part and felt good going into the first checkpoint.
After a quick water and salt tab stop I charged on into te gorge - a beautiful 10K down through a narrow rocky pass with a stream running along te whole winding route. Most of us got wet feet, myself included. By the 20K checkpoint I was ready for a quick stop and a chat with Dave, the race organiser. Moving out of the gorge I climbed up onto a plain and then faced a continuous 8K of rolling, stregnth-sapping hills. Those last few K were a lot tougher than they looked. The similar terrain and constant up and downhill made it difficult to get any rhythm or perspective. I did manage to run down to the finish at a decent pace to see a very fresh looking Owen and a just-finished Budjargal. After about 1/2 hour Ian came into camp next and from then on it was a steady stream of the runners, the run-walkers and then eventually the walkers.
Physically I felt good. No major aches and pains over and above a long training run. Pretty happy to finish as quickly as I did.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
On the way
I'm writing this from Tokyo airport, what could be described as half way there. I've had two flights to get here and two more to get into mongolia. I should pick up owen and his parents at the next stop in beijing. For the last couple of days I've just been nervous about whether i've got all the kit, whether I've made all the Right plans etc.
Now I can't do anything about it, I'm just focussed on getting to the start line and getting going. From my 7 day cycle I remember what was mentally toughest. The first half of the first day is tough - the sheer feat ahead is daunting and that first moment of fatigue so early in the race is a killer. Then the middle is tough. Hurting but no end anywhere near sight. Finally, the last day is physically the worst but mentally you know you'll make it by then.
I just really Want to finish this! I know I'm prepared but you never know what will happen out there.
Next stop Mongolia
Now I can't do anything about it, I'm just focussed on getting to the start line and getting going. From my 7 day cycle I remember what was mentally toughest. The first half of the first day is tough - the sheer feat ahead is daunting and that first moment of fatigue so early in the race is a killer. Then the middle is tough. Hurting but no end anywhere near sight. Finally, the last day is physically the worst but mentally you know you'll make it by then.
I just really Want to finish this! I know I'm prepared but you never know what will happen out there.
Next stop Mongolia
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Final prep
I'm leaving to go to the Gobi tomorrow. I'm a little nervous about it all, mostly the journey at this point to be honest. I've got 5 flights just to get there so by the time I'm there I'm going to be absolutely knackered. I'll be very relieved if I can make it through all that without missing any flights, losing baggage etc.
I think I'm prepared physically. I've put in more miles than I ever have before. Probably around 50 to 60 a week including plenty of runs in the desert heat, plenty of long runs on back to back days, plenty of runs on mountain trails with a backpack. I just hope my body holds out fine with 6 days of continuous abuse.
I went for an ECG last week. That was an interesting process. I was hooked up to around 10 electrodes and the nurse pressed the big ON button and then ... we were done. I didn't know what I was expecting but somehow thought either I'd feel a bit of a shock, or it would at least take a while or something. 5 seconds to do it, even less to interpret the data. You're normal. Thanks and goodbye. At least that means I can race.
Saying goodbye to my lady wife is going to be the hardest thing. I'm gone for over 2 weeks. I'll have no email access for over a week of that. I can't honestly say I'm not nervous about it myself. It'll be alright though, when I get home.
I think I'm prepared physically. I've put in more miles than I ever have before. Probably around 50 to 60 a week including plenty of runs in the desert heat, plenty of long runs on back to back days, plenty of runs on mountain trails with a backpack. I just hope my body holds out fine with 6 days of continuous abuse.
I went for an ECG last week. That was an interesting process. I was hooked up to around 10 electrodes and the nurse pressed the big ON button and then ... we were done. I didn't know what I was expecting but somehow thought either I'd feel a bit of a shock, or it would at least take a while or something. 5 seconds to do it, even less to interpret the data. You're normal. Thanks and goodbye. At least that means I can race.
Saying goodbye to my lady wife is going to be the hardest thing. I'm gone for over 2 weeks. I'll have no email access for over a week of that. I can't honestly say I'm not nervous about it myself. It'll be alright though, when I get home.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Backpacks
So, this week I had my first couple of runs with my new backpack and frontpack combo. I've not really run much with a pack on before but I've done plenty of hiking with heavy packs so I'm sure I'll be okay. One thing I'll say is having a pack on both the front and the back in the desert heat does absolutely nothing to keep a man cool.
The packs are actually even better than I thought they would be. Fantastically light, comfortable straps, they fit together well. I've not quite worked out the best way to carry my water yet, but that's the only major thing to worry about at this point. Camelback in the front definitely doesn't work. The weight, and water, was sloshing around all over the place. I tried the camelback in the back and it works ok but doesn't exactly lend itself to quick turnarounds. That might leave a regular water bottle in the front. I'll be trying that at the weekend.
Running this week was tough when every day peaked at 105 or more - that's about 42 C or something like that. Sunday I started running at 5:30am and even then it was baking hot by the end. This has to be over and above anything I'll face in the Gobi. Doesn't it?
The packs are actually even better than I thought they would be. Fantastically light, comfortable straps, they fit together well. I've not quite worked out the best way to carry my water yet, but that's the only major thing to worry about at this point. Camelback in the front definitely doesn't work. The weight, and water, was sloshing around all over the place. I tried the camelback in the back and it works ok but doesn't exactly lend itself to quick turnarounds. That might leave a regular water bottle in the front. I'll be trying that at the weekend.
Running this week was tough when every day peaked at 105 or more - that's about 42 C or something like that. Sunday I started running at 5:30am and even then it was baking hot by the end. This has to be over and above anything I'll face in the Gobi. Doesn't it?
Monday, June 27, 2011
Columbia sponsorship
A parcel arrived today. It was from Columbia sports wear. They're kind of sponsoring my kit for the gobi. Inside there's a very fetching bright chartreuse long sleeved running shirt, various warm layers for evenings, shorts, a hat, socks and shoes. The kit's not something I'm an expert on but I have figured that (a) it's important to have stuff I know and trust but (b) it's bloody expensive. I might have to stick to tried and tested Asics shoes but other than that I'll be more than happy to wear this stuff and take photos for Columbia and try to provide a really strenuous beta test for their materials.
Fingers crossed they're on the right lines with their new garments.
1 month to go
I just got back from 2 weeks in the UK getting married. While this did happen to include the best day of my life to date and numerous other contenders for inclusion in the top 10 of this year, one thing it didn't make very easy was training for an ultra-race. Between last minute planning, 3 days of wedding festivities and a great 6 day holiday in Wales and Dublin it was even more difficult than usual to squeeze in long runs.
I managed one 10 mile run, a couple of 8 or 9 milers and a bunch of 5 or 6 mile runs. Enough to keep things ticking over but not quite the 60 or 70 mile weeks I would love to put in to get me in better shape for the Gobi. I also found that for 2 weeks I nearly ate my body weight in beers, curries, cake and the like. Putting on 3 or 4 pounds was also not part of the desert race plan. It's amazing how quickly the good habits disappear when the routine is completely changed by something like a wedding trip.
I wouldn't change a thing about the last 2 weeks. They've been great. But I'm back in Phoenix, greeted by 115 degrees of blistering heat with just a few weeks to get some proper miles in, eat well, finalise all my kit and get comfortable with the idea of 25 miles a day for a week. One day at a time. I went out for 8 miles this morning. I'll try to do 8 or even 10 tomorrow and just try to get to the end of this week with plenty of miles under the belt and preferably a pound or two less hanging over it.
I managed one 10 mile run, a couple of 8 or 9 milers and a bunch of 5 or 6 mile runs. Enough to keep things ticking over but not quite the 60 or 70 mile weeks I would love to put in to get me in better shape for the Gobi. I also found that for 2 weeks I nearly ate my body weight in beers, curries, cake and the like. Putting on 3 or 4 pounds was also not part of the desert race plan. It's amazing how quickly the good habits disappear when the routine is completely changed by something like a wedding trip.
I wouldn't change a thing about the last 2 weeks. They've been great. But I'm back in Phoenix, greeted by 115 degrees of blistering heat with just a few weeks to get some proper miles in, eat well, finalise all my kit and get comfortable with the idea of 25 miles a day for a week. One day at a time. I went out for 8 miles this morning. I'll try to do 8 or even 10 tomorrow and just try to get to the end of this week with plenty of miles under the belt and preferably a pound or two less hanging over it.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Whiskey Row Marathon
This weekend was my final big race in preparation for the Gobi. In January I completed my first marathon at the PF Chang's Rock n Roll Marathon in Tempe. Then in January I made it round a 50k trail run in the White Tank Mountains, and this last one was self-described as "One of the toughest marathons in America". They definitely weren't lying. Elizabeth and I did the 1/2 marathon last year and that was plenty tough enough. It starts and finishes in downtown Prescott, a beautiful old little town in North Central Arizona. The town is at 5400ft above sea level and both the 1/2 marathon and marathon are out and back courses that head south and west up the hill out of down. In the 1/2 marathon the "out" heads up just over 1000ft and then back down again. The full marathon gets all the way up to just over 7000ft, then back down the other side to 6100, then back up to 7000ft before heading down to Prescott to finish.
My experience of the race was really pretty good actually. After discussion with John, the coach, it seemed that the hills and attitude would probably add around 20 minutes to the time so I was hoping to go out in something like 1:45 and then see if I could get back in 1:35. It really is hard to figure out what kind of pace you can go up a 9 mile long hill though. I was lucky to find another guy around my pace at mile 2 and we stayed together all the way to about mile 14. At the time he joined me I was about 6th or 7th and the 2 of us managed to gain a couple of places while keeping it fairly steady and chatting through 12 miles. I don't think I've ever really chatted during a race, but when you're in for the long haul and heading up a hill at just under 10 minutes a mile it kind of seemed like it would be rude not to. I think it helped me burn through a few miles without noticing quite so much. He was an ex-professional triathlete and told me his first attempt at this marathon had left him chewed up and spat out by the course and since then he's come back just to enjoy it. He also had some interesting things to say about drugs in triathlons.
By the second big hill I just couldn't quite keep up and let him head off into the distance. Still, at least I had someone in my sights while I struggled with the hill. Now, I like hills. Maybe that's just a bit strange, but in general I do well both running and cycling up hills. However, after a 9 mile initial hill followed by a few miles to stretch the legs out a bit, that second hill hurts a lot. I think I can be safe in the knowledge that everyone else found it just as hard. Coming back down the other side, it was difficult to keep in mind that I wasn't even at mile 20. To be honest, nothing about this race felt similar to the previous, more normal, marathon in January. The whole way down from miles 16 to 26, there was no worrying about hitting the wall and dropping off the pace, there was instead a constant worry about whether I could get back enough of the minutes I'd lost going up the hills to try to get close to 3:20. Miles 25 and 26 actually felt like the last 2 miles in a half marathon - I was straining to try to get my pace down below 7 minute miles. I couldn't quite manage that, but I did make it round in 3:21 and a bit. Just a minute or so behind my new friend, 5th overall.
Admittedly, I did then see the winning time: 2:37. How on earth did someone get round that course in that kind of time? Ridiculous.
I'd recommend Whiskey Row to anyone who likes an adventure, doesn't mind doing a race where time is pretty meaningless, and is blown away by a view of the whole West side of Arizona that appears out of the trees at mile 10. Worth the entrance fee alone.
It is nice to know I can get round 26 miles and still be able to walk at the end of it all. It makes me a little more confident I might get round 6 days in the desert after all.
My experience of the race was really pretty good actually. After discussion with John, the coach, it seemed that the hills and attitude would probably add around 20 minutes to the time so I was hoping to go out in something like 1:45 and then see if I could get back in 1:35. It really is hard to figure out what kind of pace you can go up a 9 mile long hill though. I was lucky to find another guy around my pace at mile 2 and we stayed together all the way to about mile 14. At the time he joined me I was about 6th or 7th and the 2 of us managed to gain a couple of places while keeping it fairly steady and chatting through 12 miles. I don't think I've ever really chatted during a race, but when you're in for the long haul and heading up a hill at just under 10 minutes a mile it kind of seemed like it would be rude not to. I think it helped me burn through a few miles without noticing quite so much. He was an ex-professional triathlete and told me his first attempt at this marathon had left him chewed up and spat out by the course and since then he's come back just to enjoy it. He also had some interesting things to say about drugs in triathlons.
By the second big hill I just couldn't quite keep up and let him head off into the distance. Still, at least I had someone in my sights while I struggled with the hill. Now, I like hills. Maybe that's just a bit strange, but in general I do well both running and cycling up hills. However, after a 9 mile initial hill followed by a few miles to stretch the legs out a bit, that second hill hurts a lot. I think I can be safe in the knowledge that everyone else found it just as hard. Coming back down the other side, it was difficult to keep in mind that I wasn't even at mile 20. To be honest, nothing about this race felt similar to the previous, more normal, marathon in January. The whole way down from miles 16 to 26, there was no worrying about hitting the wall and dropping off the pace, there was instead a constant worry about whether I could get back enough of the minutes I'd lost going up the hills to try to get close to 3:20. Miles 25 and 26 actually felt like the last 2 miles in a half marathon - I was straining to try to get my pace down below 7 minute miles. I couldn't quite manage that, but I did make it round in 3:21 and a bit. Just a minute or so behind my new friend, 5th overall.
Admittedly, I did then see the winning time: 2:37. How on earth did someone get round that course in that kind of time? Ridiculous.
I'd recommend Whiskey Row to anyone who likes an adventure, doesn't mind doing a race where time is pretty meaningless, and is blown away by a view of the whole West side of Arizona that appears out of the trees at mile 10. Worth the entrance fee alone.
It is nice to know I can get round 26 miles and still be able to walk at the end of it all. It makes me a little more confident I might get round 6 days in the desert after all.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Less ambitious goals
So, the purpose of starting to write a running diary was just to get down in writing some of the experiences, feelings and opinions about the highs and lows of trying to train for and complete the Gobi Challenge in late July this year. After a lengthy initial post I took weeks to get round to a second post. It seems like I was just overawed by the idea of trying to get up to speed on "how I got to this point" - a big task. I've decided that's not all that important at this point. I can fill in some backstory later. This blog is really just for me to keep an online diary of my running training, particularly as it's such an individual thing.
So, this Saturday I'm doing the Whiskey Row marathon in Prescott. It's going to be tough. Even though I've done 2 marathon-or-more races this year, a marathon starting at nearly 6000ft and rising for all of the first 10 miles is still a bit intimidating. I did the 1/2 marathon last year and actually really enjoyed it, but 26 miles seems just that much more hardcore. I know I'll get round though. I've done this distance before.
In between the last post and now I've had 2 races - the Warrior Dash (an obstacle course in the glorious Florence, AZ - move over Florence, Italy, you've got a cultural rival) and the Race for Hope for all Cancers 5K, organized by the AZ myeloma association. I had the joys of crossing the line first both times, which is pretty cool. The 5k would have been a big PB but it was a bit of a long course. The race was so much fun though. As someone with limited real "race" experience, I loved it. I wasn't paying attention at the start and let a couple of guys get 50 yards ahead. Then I spent the next 2 miles reeling the leader in and managed to get up alongside and then out in front on the last mile. We were together for a while and I managed to put in a burst of speed and lose him, but even at the end there was only maybe 10 seconds between us. Pretty cool. I tried that plan at a 5k a year or so ago (the burst of speed thing) and the guy I was running next to just looked at me like I'd taken a dump in his new trainers and then shot off into the distance. The burst of speed thing really only works if the other guy is already hurting. If he's letting you "jointly lead" just for the banter it really does nothing good. Lesson learned last year.
Today I had a track session - 16 x 400m at a fairly leisurely pace for 400m so it wasn't too bad. I do have the marathon in 4 days though so probably for the best. Thoughts now turn to how to tackle a marathon with so many hills. The garmin might not be helping me that much during this race. It'll be done on feel.
So, this Saturday I'm doing the Whiskey Row marathon in Prescott. It's going to be tough. Even though I've done 2 marathon-or-more races this year, a marathon starting at nearly 6000ft and rising for all of the first 10 miles is still a bit intimidating. I did the 1/2 marathon last year and actually really enjoyed it, but 26 miles seems just that much more hardcore. I know I'll get round though. I've done this distance before.
In between the last post and now I've had 2 races - the Warrior Dash (an obstacle course in the glorious Florence, AZ - move over Florence, Italy, you've got a cultural rival) and the Race for Hope for all Cancers 5K, organized by the AZ myeloma association. I had the joys of crossing the line first both times, which is pretty cool. The 5k would have been a big PB but it was a bit of a long course. The race was so much fun though. As someone with limited real "race" experience, I loved it. I wasn't paying attention at the start and let a couple of guys get 50 yards ahead. Then I spent the next 2 miles reeling the leader in and managed to get up alongside and then out in front on the last mile. We were together for a while and I managed to put in a burst of speed and lose him, but even at the end there was only maybe 10 seconds between us. Pretty cool. I tried that plan at a 5k a year or so ago (the burst of speed thing) and the guy I was running next to just looked at me like I'd taken a dump in his new trainers and then shot off into the distance. The burst of speed thing really only works if the other guy is already hurting. If he's letting you "jointly lead" just for the banter it really does nothing good. Lesson learned last year.
Today I had a track session - 16 x 400m at a fairly leisurely pace for 400m so it wasn't too bad. I do have the marathon in 4 days though so probably for the best. Thoughts now turn to how to tackle a marathon with so many hills. The garmin might not be helping me that much during this race. It'll be done on feel.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Intro
I remember the first time I ever ran more than about a mile. From the age of about 12 all the pupils at the Bishops school in Hereford shared with me in the mutual hatred of the annual cross-country run. It may have been about 3 miles at the most but it felt like back-to-back marathons to us all at the time. It was the only time I tried to use my asthma as an excuse not to do the physical education class. To no avail. The sports master, Mr Escot, knew full well that I could cope with 90 minutes of rugby training so I wasn't about to escape a tiny little cross-country. I was never very quick. In fact, over 100m I was one of the slowest boys in the whole school. At no more than 5 feet tall and moderately overweight, I was in the "quite-fit-for-a-fat-lad" category, but certainly not quick off the starters blocks. My lack of speed in the sprints was a cause of some amount of shame to me so I'd volunteer to run events like the 1500m, generally because I'd at least look somewhat sporty managing to run the whole thing without walking.
I also remember the first time I decided to run semi-regularly. I was 18 years old and I'd signed up to go on a mountaineering expedition in Norway during the summer. The expedition guidelines stated that all participants should be comfortable running for an hour or cycling for 3 hours in order to be fit enough to complete 3 weeks up in the Norwegian mountains. I worked my way up to about 3 miles and decided to time myself on the same route to track my progress as I got quicker. Some time recently I found my old time sheets. There were 3 different runs tracked, with dates, times and approximate heart rates showing at least a moderate increase in speed over the months of training. The feeling of improving performance, of pride in becoming fitter in some measurable way, of pushing myself a little harder each time I went out - these were the first seeds of a fledgling interest in running that started me on the road to where I am today.
The next big step up in distance came in the first few weeks of University. On a cold, wet Sunday evening in October in St Andrews, I agreed to head out for a run with my new friend Owen, just for fun and a bit of friendly banter. I was aware that Owen was, and is, a seriously good runner but my naievety meant that at no point did I think to ask how far we might go. After somewhere close to 25 minutes of running in the same direction it dawned on me that I must be storming past my previous longest effort of around 3 miles and so I asked what he had in mind. "Probably just a quick 7 miles - is that alright?" was the response. At the time all I could think of were the 2 competing offers I had been weighing up that evening: a run or a trip to the pub, and specifically how poor my decision making had become lately. I did make it through 7 miles that day without walking (or crying) and I remeber the strongest feeling was surprise. I was tired and sore, but mostly surprised at myself that I could run nearly twice as far as I thought I could.
Since then I've been a pretty regular runner. Encouraged by Owen and a couple of other running friends at the University I ran maybe twice a week for most of my six years there. Typically I would head out either with Owen or just by myself for somewhere between 3 and 10 miles, without really aiming for any set times or goals. I learned to enjoy running for running's sake. There were no track sessions, no training plans, just a desire to get a bit fitter and join in with some of the other guys.
I also remember the first time I decided to run semi-regularly. I was 18 years old and I'd signed up to go on a mountaineering expedition in Norway during the summer. The expedition guidelines stated that all participants should be comfortable running for an hour or cycling for 3 hours in order to be fit enough to complete 3 weeks up in the Norwegian mountains. I worked my way up to about 3 miles and decided to time myself on the same route to track my progress as I got quicker. Some time recently I found my old time sheets. There were 3 different runs tracked, with dates, times and approximate heart rates showing at least a moderate increase in speed over the months of training. The feeling of improving performance, of pride in becoming fitter in some measurable way, of pushing myself a little harder each time I went out - these were the first seeds of a fledgling interest in running that started me on the road to where I am today.
The next big step up in distance came in the first few weeks of University. On a cold, wet Sunday evening in October in St Andrews, I agreed to head out for a run with my new friend Owen, just for fun and a bit of friendly banter. I was aware that Owen was, and is, a seriously good runner but my naievety meant that at no point did I think to ask how far we might go. After somewhere close to 25 minutes of running in the same direction it dawned on me that I must be storming past my previous longest effort of around 3 miles and so I asked what he had in mind. "Probably just a quick 7 miles - is that alright?" was the response. At the time all I could think of were the 2 competing offers I had been weighing up that evening: a run or a trip to the pub, and specifically how poor my decision making had become lately. I did make it through 7 miles that day without walking (or crying) and I remeber the strongest feeling was surprise. I was tired and sore, but mostly surprised at myself that I could run nearly twice as far as I thought I could.
Since then I've been a pretty regular runner. Encouraged by Owen and a couple of other running friends at the University I ran maybe twice a week for most of my six years there. Typically I would head out either with Owen or just by myself for somewhere between 3 and 10 miles, without really aiming for any set times or goals. I learned to enjoy running for running's sake. There were no track sessions, no training plans, just a desire to get a bit fitter and join in with some of the other guys.
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