Tracking me at the CCC

For those of you are aren't family (they have to follow me) and are having trouble sleeping; or have no life; or are on an NHS waiting list for mental health issues, you can track my progress or lack thereof around the CCC course next weekend.

My personal tracker which updates every 10 minutes (until the batteries die) will be available for all to see here

The official tracking info will also be posted to my Facebook page and Twitter feeds. The main parts of the race will be broadcast here and other live tracking tools available here.

Enjoy :-)

Pacing the ginger whinger at the North Downs Way 100

Before you reply to complain about the title of this post, I'm married to a ginger and have nothing against the majority of you! Tim Lambert on the other hand deserves everything he gets (& more) when it comes to his gingerness.

This past weekend was the North Downs Way 100; a little 102.8 mile jaunt from Farnham in Surrey to Wye in Kent along some beautiful and somewhat hilly terrain. I say somewhat hilly as I've recently been exposed to running (a.k.a. walking) in the Alps and so everything is now relative; what was once a mountain has become a tiny hill in comparison. 

The North Downs Way 100 Route

I digress. The plan for the weekend was to support Mr Lambert during his second attempt at the 100 mile distance, having bailed at the same event in 2013, this years was surely to be his year. He was prepared mentally as well as physically, with a plan to ease in to the first 50 so that he had enough in reserve to push on through the night and if needs be come in right inside the 30 hour cutoff. 

With kit checked (by my good self no less) and registration sorted, Tim and Solange rested up in readiness for the 6am start on Saturday morning. Nikki and I were helping out at registration Friday night and again Saturday morning. There was a slight change of plan at 0345 as some of the course needed marking, so I grabbed my kit and headed out to Newlands Corner. This meant that I missed the start of the race and Tim missed out on the much needed ginger abuse he should have received.

Arriving at Newlands, I bumped in to James and Eddie who had come out to help mark the course. They put in a good effort marking 0.2 miles under extremely tough conditions. The aid station was up and the front runners were expected within the hour and Nikki and Solange turned up having seen the start, so we waited for the arrival of His Royal Gingerness. During this time I decided I'd run far enough already to warrant starting the Centurion Volunteer Eat Your Own Bodyweight In Aid Station Food Ultramarthon. This is a tough event and something I excel at but in order to prevent me leaving the aid station heavier than when I arrived I decided to walk down the course to watch Tim's arrival and to cheer on the other runners.

Tim arrived on track, looking fresh, as you would hope at mile 14 with quite a few left to go. I walked in to the aid station with him, we filled his bottles and got him some food and sent him on his way. Solange, Nikki and I saw most of the running pack through before heading to the midway point at Knockholt to prepare the aid station and double check some of the markings around the aid station approach. 

Nikki and Solange disappeared for their morning run whilst I ran around another few miles of the course verifying the course markings and putting up some extra bits of tape and signs to direct the runners off the North Downs Way and down in to Knockholt Pound, along the road and in to the village hall. At this point of the race (~50 miles) the runners picked up their first (of two) drop bags and were provided with hot food. Tim was due in for another few hours and so I disappeared to get an hours sleep in the back of the car.

After 1.5 hours sleeping in the back of the car, I got my kit together and went back in to help out at the aid station. Runners were arriving thick and fast now with Tim expected at anytime. He arrived to the cheering of Solange & Nikki who, for some reason, were happy to see him. I on the other hand knew this meant it could be the start of a very long run through the night with his ginger ass, so was less than impressed with his arrival. 

Our plan had been for me to be ready to jump in at mile 50 if he was feeling rough but if not, I was to jump in at mile 60 and complete the rest of the distance. So with a presumptive close, I said to Tim "You are looking good, I'll see you at mile 60". And with that, we sent him on his way having fed and watered him. Excellent, I'd just saved my poor little legs 10 miles, wonderful news indeed. Next stop for me was the next aid station. Luckily I managed to get a lift from a very kind chap, Peter, who was crewing for his son that was also running, apologies for not remembering his name but thank you again, Peter. 

The course markings on the approach to the Wrotham CP weren't that clear upon our arrival, so I popped back down the road to the junction and marked it up to ensure everybody knew where to go. As per Steve's blog, it appeared as if the course markings were being tidied up by some people as this had been marked a few times already that day. Needless to say, it was soon rectified and I was back in the aid station awaiting the arrival of Tim. Luckily I was assigned cow bell duties which along with the riveting conversation from Steve and Mimi helped the time pass quickly.

Just as dusk was settling in, Tim arrived and for our 42 mile journey in to the night to begin. Settling into a steady walking pace out of the aid station, we soon caught up with another runner who laughed as we missed almost the first turn we had to make. Both Tim and I were too busy chatting and had barely left the aid station and we'd made a mistake.

Tim after finding out he had another 26 miles to go

The next CP was only 5.5 miles away and I thought we'd try and get some miles under our belt while the light was still with us and before the rain set in. Tim had other plans and wanted to sit down at every bench we came upon. Luckily there weren't that many and I had to chivvy him along and in to the CP, which happened to be Santa's Grotto. This of course is pure evil for the runners who now aren't sure if they are seeing things or there really are a load of people in a tent in the countryside in August dressed as Elves and Santa himself. I didn't see the need to reassure Tim it was safe to sit on Santa's knee and accept whatever presents he gave him.

It was lovely to see John (again) and Richard but we had some miles to cover and so Tim was pulled from his perch and made to shuffle along into the woods. It was at this point I discovered he is a big ginger wuss who is afraid of running in the woods at night, as if there is some boogie man about to jump out and get him. I tried my best to hold back on laughing out loud but just couldn't help myself as I decided it would be funny to switch off my head torch and wind him up. This wasn't well received and so I only did it 47 more times.

The food and drink from the aid station must have revived him as we ran quite a lot of the next section, through the woods on the final long 11 mile stretch to the next CP. We overtook and got overtaken by the same few runners as we slowed on some sections and were faster on others. When we walked I told Tim to slot in behind me and I'd stick to a 4mph pace so we were covering decent ground and we'd run all the downhill sections. I would shout out about holes, slippy terrain, sticks, stones, and dead bodies but would rarely get a reply that was coherent. This was a little concerning and so I kept looking around to ensure Tim was behind and hadn't decided to hole up at the side of the trail for a kip.

On this section Tim notified me his blisters were really playing up and that he'd need to get them seen to at the next CP. I told him we should stop immediately and get them fixed so we didn't slow down too much. This was the first of 3 or 4 times when I had to sit him down, remove his shoes & socks and touch his rotting smelly blister covered ginger haired toes that even an Ogre would be ashamed of. After a few minutes of applying plasters and taping his feet, I pulled him to his feet and we set off running again whilst he felt like a new man. The 5 minutes after each occurrence of this throughout the night were the best moments for me as the whinge factor would be reduced by an order of magnitude; pure bliss!

Arrival at Bluebell Hill brought Tim to mile 76.2 and I pointed out to him we were now on the home straight with less than a quarter of the distance to go. His retort was that he still had a bloody marathon to run and he was, to use a technical term "fooked". The rain had started as we arrived at the CP and the tent was full to the rafters with runners and pacers alike, all trying to find somewhere dry to replenish their weary bodies with energy. We plonked ourselves down and were well looked after with bottles filled, tea served and food provided. Tim also grabbed some lube for his nether regions, another part of his body I'd heard (a couple of times) was causing him immense discomfort. As his blog post confirms, I escaped having to apply this for him; all I can say is "Praise the Lord".

As the rain hammered down I ushered Tim to his feet and basically pushed him out of the tent. We had work to do and sitting inside a warm tent wasn't going to get us to the finish line. The very kind volunteers helped point us in the right direction and warned us of some fairly slippery bits of trail to watch out for. Next stop was Detling just under 6 miles away, where hot food, a change of shoes (for Tim) and a physiological barrier. These few miles the weather was at its worst and with our slowing pace Tim added feeling slightly cold to his list of ailments. Tim's feet were hurting again with the blister between his toes causing him a lot of pain and as we approached the aid station I ran ahead to see if the medics could tape them up for him and save me having to do it.

No such luck! Whilst Detling was great to get to, with the friendly face of James Elson and the volunteers, it didn't have a medic and so between myself and a very kind volunteer we applied what we could to Tim's feet and put clean socks on his rotten feet. I'd been carrying these clean socks in my dry bag but there was no way I was going to carry the old ones another 20 miles to the finish line. I was quite pleased when Tim announced that they were going to be binned, phew!

James showed me on the map the next section of the trail and advised me it was a little ugly and to not fret and just walk it and get through the next 4 miles and then it became easier and very runnable. I told Tim this so he didn't try and over do it and get stressed about the time. He'd been building his stress levels quite a lot over the night, worrying about cutoffs and getting to the finish in time. It didn't matter how many times I told him not to fret and to leave the maths to me, I'd get him there and not let him miss a cutoff. This shut him up for about 3.5 minutes, then it was like groundhog day and we'd go around the same loop again and again.

Climbing up out of Detling we were joined by another competitor who was probably quite keen on the company and slotted in behind Tim, who was following me as we made the ascent. The trail goes up and down as it traverses across a few hill sides with lots of steps rather than what would be very steep and slippery tracks otherwise. As we descended these tracks, Tim felt like he was holding up this other competitor and so Tim wanted him to go in front of him. When he was in front of him, Tim complained that he couldn't see me and would I hold up and let this guy go in front of me. Then we'd catch him as he'd slowed, I think he just wanted to follow us but at this point no matter what this guy did, it was wrong in Tim's head. I think I suggested it would be best for him to push on ahead of us as Tim rested on another bench and after this we never saw the guy again. I really hope he made it to the end as it wasn't his fault, or Tim's to be fair, it's just the gremlins of tiredness taking hold and making silly things really annoy you.

Tim arriving at CP12

After the hard Detling miles we started to jog and walk more regularly as the trail turned in to tracks and some road sections. Tim's moaning ebbed and flowed switching between ailment each cycle; interspersed with some of my singing and funny film quotes to try and lighten the mood. None of this worked particularly well, in fact it may have been the reason Tim then decided he felt a little light headed and not really with it. The things he'll say to get me to stop talking! On more than one occasion I would turn around to ensure he was still following me, only to be presented with a full frontal view of him watering the trail. I'm not entirely sure how he's managed to father two children with what I saw and put it down to the huge advancements in medical science we've made in the recent years.

After an uneventful journey towards the penultimate aid station at mile 90, Tim was now getting cold and so in the middle of a field near a farm, I sat him down and dressed him in my waterproofs, buff, gloves and over gloves in order to get him warmed up. I always carry full waterproofs, although I've never used them, but seeing how they helped Tim, I won't stop carrying them on events like this, they really did help him.

Some further taping of feet, biscuits, jelly babies pushed us homewards and soon we arrived at the final CP. I'd run on ahead at this point to grab food and tea (with 6 sugars) so that Tim "didn't have to stop moving". I duly did so although I have to admit to only asking for 3 sugars in his tea. I'm firmly of the belief you can't tell the difference once you get above 3 sugars. Leaving the final CP Tim put in a call to Solange and then his waterworks opened up, luckily this was the upstairs waterworks and not another view of his little fella. It now sunk in, he had 3 hours to get 4.2 miles and there was no way he wouldn't be able to do that.

These next few miles I tried my best to get Tim jogging and he did on occasion but in reality he knew he could walk it and still make it comfortable and so why put himself through any more pain. I have to admit I'd probably be of the same mindset but I was being selfish, with my Suunto battery almost flat I wanted to get to the end before it died. I have to admit I did think about leaving him and jogging on to the end just so Strava would be accurate.

The final few hundred yards of the course brought us in to Wye, through some lovely fields and in to the biggest patch of stinging nettles you've ever seen. Talk about having a sting in the tail at the end of a race! I did my best to try and get Tim to run the final few metres but the railway crossing was down and we were forced to wait it out. I did suggest the bridge but the look I received suggested waiting would be the better option. After the barriers went up, I ran on ahead to the finish to ensure Solange was out and ready to embrace her Ginger Biscuit as he crossed the line.

And with all that moaning and pain behind him, Tim crossed the finished line in 28 hours and 36 minutes. He had made a dream come true and earned himself the buckle he had for so long desired.  The look of joy and relief were obvious to everybody at the finish line and with so many people there to welcome him home made it all the better.  Nikki, James, Stu and others all held back whilst Solange and Tim doused the finish line with tears, hugs and kisses all around.  Nici even shed a few tears I'm told.

After being presented with his buckle, Tim and Solange presented me with my very own medal, a NDW50 medal to represent almost half the route that I'd covered with his royal gingerness.  How wonderfully thoughtful of them both.  I'm truly touched and it will live alongside my other NDW50 medal, until such a time as I'm mental enough to swap the two for an NDW100 mile buckle.

Well done Tim, a truly amazing effort and something you have worked hard to earn.  Most of the above should be taken in a joking way, except for the last couple of paragraphs.  You are an inspirational chap and like I said in my last post, I'm proud to call you my friend.  See you at the Winter 100 for some of get your own back time!

The 100 mile finisher, Mr Tim Lambert!

If the shoe was on the other foot

Lon Lomas was a runner that was entered in to a 100 mile race this year.  

Lon Lomas

Tim Lambert is a runner who is running his first 100 mile race this year.

Notice the different tense used in both of these statements.  Unfortunately Lon was killed on the 7th July near his home whilst out cycling in a hit and run incident.  He now won't be able to complete his dream of running 100 miles.

Lon and Tim knew each other through social media, as is true of a lot of our friendships in the small, although ever increasing, ultra community.  I too met Tim via the world of social media but have also had the pleasure of meeting him on a number of occasions including running with him.

Tim is planning to run the North Downs Way 100 this weekend in honour of Lon.  If that wasn't enough (100 miles is a long old way), he is also going to run the 100 mile race later this year that Lon had planned on entering.  This event is in Texas in December, which is where we need your help.

If you were suddenly not around anymore, for whatever reason, who would look out for your family? We all have family & friends and you like to think your love ones would be looked after and I'm sure they would be.  In this case, a guy from the other side of the world (almost) is helping out too...I don't think you can ever have too much help at a time like this. Tim is going to Texas and after he completes the race will present the finishers buckle to Lon's wife and kids.

Tim has managed to get free entry in to the event thanks to the organisers.  He has managed to get free transportation & accommodation as well.  What he needed help with was the £750 airfare to get to Texas and so he setup a Crowd Funding page to help raise awareness and to help fund this great cause.  

Within 24 hours of Tim's blog post going live, I'm happy to say that the initial target has been met and currently stands at £990 at the time of writing my post (I've been busy, honest).  There has been some great coverage from The Guardian newspaper and Run247 which has really helped raise awareness. Meeting the inital target is great but now there is a stretch goal that we're aiming for. So that doesn't mean you can put your wallet away, every penny raised over the total will go directly to Lon's wife and children to try in some small way ease their burden.  

So I urge you to go to the crowd funding page and donate/pledge what you can afford.  This isn't a small or large charity fund raising event with lots of people supporting the cause; this is a very personal thing that Tim is doing for somebody in our community and it makes me proud to say I'm a friend of his.

Race Report : Lakeland 50 : Ultra Tour of the Lake District

Drew & Claire waiting for the 100 runners

Ouch, that was an uncomfortably hot afternoon running around the Lake District.  Sitting here writing this blog, that is the first thought that enters my mind when I think back over the weekend.  Then I think of the huge positive that I took away from it, the very fact I was very close to quitting and I didn't.  I kept going and got the job finished; it wasn't pretty and it wasn't easy and it most certainly wasn't plan A or plan B for that matter but I crossed the finish line and that is all that matters.

The trip to the lakes was typical of a Friday with accidents and traffic jams galore as we headed up the M5 and M6.  Rather than the 3-4 hour journey I'd expected, it took us 6.5 hours, so when we arrived in to Coniston the campsite was already pretty full.  We covertly parked up the tiny camper (borrowed from Mum & Dad), grabbed my kit and went off to register.  Unfortunately due to the traffic the queue for registration was a little larger than anticipated and I was asked to come back later after the 100 milers had kicked off.

Rather than watch from the start line, we tagged along with Drew Sheffield, Claire Shelly & James Adams (he has a book out you know!) and headed up the first climb skirting around the edge of the Old Man of Coniston.  It was a beautiful evening, perhaps a little warm but certainly preferable to the cold and wet that is so often on offer in this part of the world. Perched on a rock overlooking the climb we waited for the field and it wasn't long before Marco, Charlie and the other front runners were upon us.  

Marco Consani
Winner Lakeland100 2014

Given I hadn't yet registered and being slightly panicky about this, I decided we should head down after the front runners had passed us and get back to base, which is exaclty what we did, wishing all of the runners good luck and I think I only told a few of them "not far to go now".  Steve Navesey had a big smile on his face, as did Tim Laney, both of whom finished and had even bigger smiles at the finish line.

Back at camp I got myself registered, weighed (by James Adams, he has a book out if you didn't know already) and chipped up.  I was now ready for my evening meal and a good nights sleep before the 0830 race briefing.  Of course being sociable we had to visit the pub with Mr Adams and Justin (sorry don't know your surname) and put the world to rights post dinner.  And so it was 11pm ish when Nikki and I crawled in to bed and I drifted off to sleep thinking of the next days events.

I was dressed and ready to role by 0730 with coffee in hand and breakfast in my belly, my bag was repacked and now I was clock watching.  As the minutes ticked by and along with Jamie Woods who was camping next to us, we drifted over to the school hall in time for the briefing.  The hall filled up and soon Marc was up on stage giving us the low down on what to expect, who would and wouldn't make it around the course, finally reminding us that we had plenty of time and finishing was more important than anything else. With those thoughts in our minds, we left the school all hoping that the next time we were in Coniston, we'd be running over the finish line and not arriving by some other means.

The coach journey could have been worse to be fair, with the temperatures rising I'd expected to be sweating my nuts off on arrival in Dalemain.  After about an hour and a quarter's journey around the countryside, we arrived at the start with about 45 minutes to spare before the off.  My brother Mike and his wife, Lynsay were already waiting for me as were Nikki & Bev Navesey who we soon located in the large crowd of people.  This was the halfway point for the 100 runners and they were coming through to great cheers from the spectators and 50 competitors alike.

At the end of the Dalemain loop

The start of the race is a 3.8 mile loop around the estate which helps to make up some of the distance but its main aim is to spread the field before getting out on to the hillside.  This loop you are allowed, even encouraged to run with friends and family and it was great to have Mike come along for those first few miles.  The stiles and single track we had to follow meant it wasn't always possible to be side by side, although we did manage to crack a few jokes and have a giggle as we made our way round.  

After waving good bye to Mike, Lyns, Nikki and Bev, I got my head in to the first section of the course, which according to Plan A was a 2 hour section to cover 11.2 miles to Howtown.  There was only a few small climbs, nothing massive and with 3.8 miles already completed around Dalemain, this hopefully wouldn't be too tough.   After crossing a road and running alongside a river, I found myself in Pooley Bridge and to my surprise saw Nikki again as I crossed over the bridge.  It's always so nice to see a friendly face when out on these types of events, even if I was only 5 miles in, especially when it's unexpected.

I arrived at the first checkpoint ahead of schedule by 2 minutes or so.  James Adams was working at the aid station (he'll do anything to promote his book) and he asked if I now regretted the climb up the Old Man the previous evening, to which my bullish reply "No of course not" may have been a bit telling. Secretly I blame James for my failure to hit either of my A or B goals, so I'm not going to buy his next book.

Running over Pooley Bridge

Departing Howtown, there is a long steady and almost never ending climb upwards out of the end of the valley to High Kop before you run across the top and down to Haweswater reservoir. It was on this climb that I started to feel awful; over heating and constantly thirsty, I had to keep stopping on the way up. With people passing in what appears like a constant stream I felt like I was at the back and couldn't believe how things had changed on this leg.  It was at this stage, around mile 13 that I knew plan A was out of the window and that I'd have to push to keep plan B on track.  As I dropped down on to the path on the side of Haweswater I knew that even plan B was going to be tough as I stopped at every stream on the path to cover myself in water and to fill my bottle.

Looking back on this part of the race now, I can see that I made some mistakes early in the race.  I probably pushed too hard on the first leg and should have run a little slower, so that I wasn't as hot and potentially dehydrated for the climb out of Howtown.  I also didn't fuel well enough during the first 2-3 hours and so on arrival in to Mardale Head I was suffering from the heat, dehydrated and running on an empty tank.  I also took one S-Cap on this section of the course and I think this massive input of salt may have caused me to drink more initially, although I needed the electrolytes getting this one massive shot of them may have impacted my thirst.

At Mardale Head I took the decision to sit down and sort myself out, as my head was telling me to just stop this stupid affair but my heart was saying otherwise.  I've only run a few ultras but I've never sat down before for fear of not wanting to get up again, so I knew times were bad when I plonked my arse in the chair.  I found Jamie sitting opposite me, looking how I felt, he was suffering from stomach issues as well as the heat. I was really surprised to see him as he'd passed me on the climb up to High Kop and I didn't expect to bump in to him again until Coniston.  The heat was clearly having an impact on other people as well, which helped my mental understanding of the conditions; it wasn't just me who wasn't able to deal with it.  

Time to stuff my face!  I had some soup, a cup of tea, a peanut butter wrap and a bit of a cheese sandwich.  The result was almost immediate, I felt so much better being hydrated and having taken on fuel.  After 20 minutes rest I told Jamie to get up and that we'd climb the next hill together.  He was muttering about quitting at Kentmere but I wasn't having any of that and told him to just keep going and see how he felt.  We pushed ourselves out of the chairs, filled our bottles and began the climb.

Getting to the top wasn't anywhere near the effort I thought it was going to be and I felt stronger as I pushed down the other side, saying my goodbyes to Jamie and enjoying the fast decent.  I pushed on with one of the 100 runners (John?) and soon arrived in to Kentmere where I topped up my water, grabbed an apple and took a few minutes to eat and drink on the grass outside.  The temperature had dropped significantly now although it was still sunny and there was a pleasant breeze.

Running in to Ambleside

After scoffing the apple I left to head over the hill to Ambleside, where I knew Nikki, Bev, Mike and Lyns would be waiting to offer a cheer and tell me I looked strong.  This section went well, I was feeling better and made up a few places arriving 20 minutes ahead of the ETA at the next checkpoint.  Mike and Lyns cheered me in and Nikki jogged in the last 100m, it was great to see them all.

I grabbed some salted crisps (why!!!) and something to drink and kissed Nikki goodbye and left the checkpoint.  Ten yards up the path I felt awful (again) and sat down to eat.  I forced myself on to my feet and began walking up the hill as the rain started to fall.  I'd put too much liquid in to my stomach too quickly and then shovelled in some nasty salted crisps making my stomach churn over and over.  God I felt crap and I contemplated walking back to the checkpoint to quit.

Remembering the statistics Marc had shared before the event; something like 95% of competitors who make it to Ambleside finish, I was determined not to become part of that 5% group.  I had to make it to the finish line and so onwards and upwards, plodding along, one foot in front of the other.  Slowly slowly catchy monkey...

As I appeared in Skelwith Bridge I was once again greeted by the support crew of Nikki, Bev, Mike and Lyns and this time Paul Navesey too.  I was feeling rough, which was confirmed by my grumpy attitude towards everybody (apologies).  I think I offered Paul my race number and asked him to finish off the last 12 miles for me, but for some reason he wasn't interested.  

A rare moment of running

Feeling rough I decided to put on some music as well as my waterproof and push on as best I could.  After another surprise hello from Mike & Lyns on the course, who walked along with me almost to the next checkpoint.  These appearances are such a morale booster especially when feeling rough and even more so late in the evening, by now it was after 10pm and I was using my head torch.

Chapel Stile aid station was another life saver for me.  I must have looked terrible upon arrival, as they sat me down, took my water bottles, gave me vegetable stew and plied me with sweet tea.  I'm not sure how long I sat there and I haven't looked at my watch data but it was time well spent taking on fuel.  Before departing I ensured I had my gloves on as I'd started to feel the cold, moving slowly and being soaked in sweat from earlier along with the wind & rain weren't helping matters.  

I left knowing I had 6.5 miles to the final aid station and my belly was full and I was feeling human again.  It was dark but I'd recced this part of the course before at night and so knew the way and I had my watch to guide me on those couple of tricky turns.  I knew I was moving faster and I soon warmed up and started to overtake people.  I had one thing on my mind and that was ensuring I didn't miss the mandatory unmanned dibber at Castle Howe. After finding this dibber, I jogged down the road overtaking yet more people who appeared to be finding the downhill hard work.  I'm blessed with big quads and so downhill running is something I find slightly easier than most on top of which I really enjoy pushing how fast I can get down a hill.

Tilberthwaite steps

I arrived in to Tilberthwaite up on the ETA of the timing system and decided to take a few minutes to drink another cuppa and take on some sugar...with only 3.5 miles to go it was time to hit the sugar.  Then it was back out in to the darkness and up those steps, climbing the last hill (or is it a mountain?) before descending down in to Coniston.   

This last climb was fuelled by jelly babies and I caught a few people on the way up the hill, remembering to keep the beck on my right and not cross it, turning left at the lone tree near the top.  At this point I could see head torches ahead of me and the same looking back down the hill and across the valley, this is a view that I'll remember for a long time and my only regret was not being able to photograph it.

As I crested the top I packed away my poles and decided to see how quickly I could get down and in to Coniston and so began a fairly quick run down the rocky pathway.  I over took a number of people and pushed onwards with the rocky path getting better and better to run on.  Finally the pathway becomes a gravel track and then finally a tarmac road and it was somewhere along here I found Nikki walking up to meet me.  It's hard to work out who is who with head torches shining at each other; I recognised her right away, if only she'd recognised me.  I didn't slow and she soon caught up and we jogged in the final few hundred yards down the hill and in to Coniston, over the bridge and with a final left turn and down the hill in to the school to great cheers even at 0156 in the morning!  

I had made it, after 14 hours and 21 minutes I was in Consiton at the end of the Lakeland 50.  I'd got my monies worth, spending a lot longer out on the course than either my A or B goals had allowed for.  You could say these goals may not have been realistic and perhaps my A goal was a stretch and things would have to have gone perfectly to achieve it.  My B goal was certainly within reach, I was only 50 minutes outside of it which is less time than I spent in aid stations around the course, so I know it wasn't out of reach.

Having had a few days to think about my result, I've got both positive and negatives to take away with lots of things to work on before the next big outing around the Alps in August. My positive is that I had the mental strength to gut it out and get over the finish line.  The going got tough and I got going.  

So what are the areas for improvement?  I need to work on my fuelling and hydration more. I think I need to try something other than just S/Caps, perhaps supplementing with Nuun or similar in my water to give me a more regular intake of electrolytes.  I need to also work out how to get back to having my Salomon back not cause such severe burns on my back.  It never used to do this and none of the older packs did it, so I'm not sure if this is because I'm not carrying more mandatory kit or if the pack is too tight or too loose.  Whatever the issue, it needs sorting and quickly.

The final decision I've made is that I'm going to go back in 2015 and re-run the LL50. I consider my result a failure as I missed my A and B goals and I know I can do better.  The only way to prove this to myself is to go back, having spent more time training, more time in the lakes and having run more races in the meantime.  I want to immerse myself in the Lakeland spirit and I want to get to the finish line on the same day the race starts, I know I can do it.

Big thanks go out to Nikki, once again for spending a whole weekend travelling around the countryside supporting my weird desire to punish myself running silly distances over mountains.  I also need to thank Mike and Lyns for doing the same, especially having had car issues and having to sleep in the car on Saturday night, you're amazing!

Bev Navesey also deserves massive thanks for (A) putting up with Nikki all weekend and (B) driving her around the course so she could see me at all the viewing points.  Bev, I hope to be able to return the favour when you and Steve run the 50 together in a few years time.

Now it's time to rest and get myself ready for the next event...

Race Report : Race to the Stones 100km

I don't blog; this may be evident in the way my post jumps around quite a bit. However I still wanted to record my thoughts so they don't get muddled or dwindle with time, as I often find. That way Chris can't correct me and tell me that was a different race/year etc. So, this was to be my first ultra. Race to the Stones 100k over two days on 19th & 20th July from Chinnor to Avebury along the Ridgeway. The organisers provided a very handy training guide, by Rory Coleman, which I followed pretty much to the letter but not obstinately when I had a niggle here or a heavy work week there, I was happy enough to be flexible with my program and not get stressed. Rather than the full 20 weeks I used the last 12 weeks, which fitted in perfectly off the back of my marathon training program with a week off after Boston to rest.

Leading up to the race I can't say I was excited. I don't tend to do excited. Perhaps if I was a fast front pack runner I might. Some of that adrenaline would be handy. I get very excited for Chris and our friends who run but that's because they're all so capable and its shows in their great results. My task was to finish. No great expectations.

The day of the race came and I was tired after a few days of storms and no decent nights sleep since Wednesday. Chris kindly took mine and Niandi's bags to the car and I was all too grateful and willing for the support (I'm not a morning person). Niandi had travelled down to Gloucester on the Friday afternoon and stayed with us for the evening with a lovely dinner and dessert all provided by Chris' fair hand and mostly from our allotment or orchard. Niandi indulged in a couple of glasses of red, which I just can't manage anymore, I'm such a lightweight! Then I set about getting my race and overnight bags packed. Ah, yes. Chris taking our bags to the car. What this basically means is that I forgot my phone and Leadville hat next to it as we left at 5.30am on Saturday. This wasn't the great start to the day I had envisaged and did not put me in a good mood, especially as I remembered within the first five minutes and Chris wouldn't go back to get it, being such a stickler for time and worried we'd be late for registration and start. Me being me didn't care and just wanted to catch up on Facebook, Words with Friends, but mainly check the weather forecast and have a camera to take photos with along the way ready to upload on the day (plan B became to use my music phone and upload them later). Chris being Chris and despite the "It's not my fault you're not organised!" pithy response went back home after the start of the race and picked it up for me to have later that day. He also made me a gluten free cashew butter sarnie to take and supplies to do this again on Sunday a.m. too. Niandi didn't seem too fussed by our bickering in the front of the car and in next to no time we were at the start, I was rushing to the loo and relieved, pardon the pun, to do so prior to registration as the queue grew tenfold. Registration was smooth and speedy, we dropped off Niandi's overnight camping bag (Chris and I were staying at the Crown & Horns in Compton) and caught up with Andrew Jordan, bumped into Louise Ayling and I met one of Chris' CCC recce buddies, John Volanthen.

The start time came and went and we set off at 08.10 and quickly ground to a halt crossing the railway line as the trail narrowed. I'm sure it had an impact on my time but I far preferred this to going out too fast and psychologically damaging my confidence by repeating to myself "I started too fast, I knew I shouldn't have started too fast." as I knew I would have had the excuse to do so otherwise.

I was delighted the aid stations had portaloo's as well as made to order gluten free sarnies and snacks. Certainly not as wide a selection as the Centurion events I've been used to volunteering at but I brought all the food and supplies I'd trained with and was expecting to rely upon. I'm amazed that anyone would want to experiment with new stuff on the day and put their race at risk with something that disagreed with them. But then, eating and picking the right foods to keep down and digest has not been without its challenges for me, even on shorter distances, so perhaps this is a very personal thing and for others it's not a big deal.

The volunteers and spectators were nothing short of awesome (thank you boys at mile 19 for the fizzy cola bottles, you rock). The miles came and went. Sometimes I ran with Niandi, sometimes by myself and I had the pleasure of running a long stint at the end with Andrew till we parted ways at the "halfway split", actually around 27.5/28 miles as he carried on with the nonstop 100k and I headed to base camp. 

Boy, I have so much respect for all the people who ran the 100k nonstop. Wow! Now I think I finally know what it takes, and I don't have it in me...yet. I heard about the hail later that evening, Chris mentioned someone said it was 'refreshing'!?! I think that may have been John Volanthen, so now I know he's not all there either. I saw the markers with palely illuminated glowsticks attached the following morning as I ran in the cool breeze and I just thought what must it have been like running that "very runable Ridgeway trail", on easy terrain with a head torch? Tough. After all those miles to just keep churning them out. You are all hardcore heroes to me. And yet, that is how runners making their first strides into long distance must surely think of when they see me in that crowd. It couldn't be further from the truth. I feel like a faker. OK, not a faker but it was just a fluke. I did it but once and it really wasn't easy. I'm sure with time I'll have an epiphany moment as I finally did when running and training for my three marathon attempts when I will say to myself "This is getting easier, I'm actually comfortable with this run and I am an ultra runner". I'm certainly nowhere near that yet though.

Day 1, Saturday was hot and humid. We had an hour or two of intermittent rain and it was a welcome respite from the heat and blazing sun. It was a tad muddy and slippery underfoot with claggy mud and I was grateful for making the 'grip but less cushioned' choice of trail shoes over trainers. Saying I'm clumsy is an understatement. I can fall over just fine without roots, holes or volcanic rocks (as Niandi witnessed with me in Lanzarote a few years ago). There were plenty of runners in trainers though, that managed just fine. I only ever run in Salomon Speedcross 3 (S3's) or the McDonalds of trainers on road, Asics. It's the devil I know. However, after a pain across the top of my foot/ankle during my second long run in injinji's and new S3's, which got progressively worse and messed up my 26.2 distance (becoming a hobble to complete 24 miles) I started to worry I might not even make it to the start, or that it'd come back to curse my race. As such an older, reliable pair of S3's and balega socks were the order of the day for footwear. Only a few blisters to show for it having ditched the injinji's that seem tighter on my ankles. Result.

I took a 30min pitstop about mile 20 on Sunday (so around mile 50 overall) to sort out those blisters with Compeed and also took two paracetamol, which I've never done before (aside from the rare occasions I've had a headache).  Well worth it, and glad I'd waited until then, but boy were the legs sore after sitting most of that time at the pitstop. Not something I'll make the mistake of doing again. It felt like I had new feet afterwards, though. Woohoo, I was flying at times. It's just a shame they were attached to my screaming legs. The downhills were killing my quads, again thanks to my own stupidity due to charging down the hill at 7:30 pace at the end of Saturday, when The Stone Roses Resurrection came on and I thought "what an awesome song to finish on, I wonder if I can make it to the end with this song playing?" And I did, shame my watch died at 7hrs 05 and I finished at 7hrs 20. I would have loved to see that upward spike on my movescount. 'Twas not meant to be.

I can't deny that Sunday wasn't hard. I asked Chris as we left the company of Niandi and the camp on Saturday afternoon "Tell me why I entered the two day 100k rather than the one day 50k" only half in jest. It was much of the same: great support and friendly faces all round. The major difference was the much cooler start to the day and the 6.45 kick off (people were just turning up and starting at their leisure as we were all chipped). That was a bit daft, the chips. Only the start and finish had timing mats. Great for a one day shorter event but not for multi-days when, in my humble opinion you might be more inclined to change you footwear if you got them all muddy on day 1 (Chris disagrees with me on this point). In my view, you really needed a longer tag that could go round the ankle, and I said as much when we went to camp at 6.15 to get my new chip (plus an extra one in case I wanted to change my trainers back to trail shoes partway through on Sunday); oh the faff. I didn't.

I bumped into Niandi around mile 12 on Sunday and we ran most of the way to the finish together having a good old chat, with me telling my favourite blonde joke of all time - I think it went down well. I still am in awe of the fact Niandi has run over 150 ultras (approximately; she's never counted). Plus all the marathons. At peak running Niandi ran around 30 ultras a year. And then there's me - not even having done one. Regret is something we discussed - luckily I have none and I'm grateful that I didn't find running when I was younger, it would have been wasted on me and I wouldn't have appreciated it nearly as much as I do. Plus, I'm sure I would have done myself a mischief many times over to have made running now not an option - I can't run fast enough to do myself too much harm now! The support and encouragement from Niandi and great banter made the miles easier. The route from The Burj at Foxhill to just past Barbury Castle were familiar miles to me, I had the pleasure of running this part of the Ridgeway on a SocialUltra that Andrew Jordan organised back in March. Only miles 22-24 massively flew by as I found myself running alone in a daydream through the sheltered tracks (thanks to Jelly Tots and fudge with table salt) and the announced beep on my watch surprised me into a conscious stream of thought that they'd come round far sooner than expected - another first for me. 

The last few Ks were tough and it was psychologically gruelling for me running past the finish point down to the stones and then back up again. The hand slaps from runners coming back up though was a boost and made me smile, as did the pics with Niandi at the stones.  I'd still much prefer a detour a bit earlier to make up the distance... the watch clocked 32.73 miles at the finish, but at least the battery held out on Sunday. Despite the soreness Sunday was made all the easier without the heat plus all the wonderful runners, volunteers and spectators cheering us on, it really lifted my spirits. It was also a massive boost bumping into Chris four times offering us snacks, water as well as words of encouragement plus acting as our official photographer. Shouting "Run faster, Fatty" from the bushes doesn't count though.

I finished in 7.20 Saturday and 7.17 Sunday (does that count as a negative split, especially considering it was a 48k/52k distance split?). My time was 14.37 overall and I came 63rd, out of a field of 376 plus 13th of 213 ladies. I'll settle for that as my first foray into ultra running and my first back to back one at that. Niandi did brilliantly, as I knew she would, 39th overall and 7th lady. Despite me running away with myself to get to the finish line Niandi had at least an hour on me form Saturday, so well done to her and all of the competitors who entered Race to the Stones. Thoroughly enjoyable from start to finish.

If I can manage an ultra then I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that anyone who has a little bit of time to put in the miles is more than capable of doing so - the deciding factor is only whether you want to that will make the difference.

It may have been my first but it's certainly not my last.  Also, and yes I know it wasn't nonstop so this probably doesn't count, Chris pointed out to me yesterday on the drive home that I have run further than he has in any race. It will be incredibly short lived as a record within the Mills household when he runs CCC next month, followed by the Winter 100 in October. Nonetheless, it's a mantle I'm happy to hold high for the briefest of times and gloat smugly about as I know a) it's true, and b) it was worth it.

Some photos taken by Chris during the race are available here

Returning to the Boston Marathon

The winner of the marathon, Meb Keflezighi

Returning to Boston in 2014 was a given and something both Nikki and I would have done I think even if she hadn't been granted a spot on the start line.  There was unfinished business that needed completion, an itch that needed scratching, a solitary mile that needed running, a finish line that needed crossing. With the BAA granting all those a spot at this years event who didn't cross the finish line but who had made it halfway, we had even more reason to return to Hopkinton, MA for the Easter weekend.

We arrived late on the Thursday evening, having left the UK on the last flight out so as to reduce holiday usage to a bare minimum of 1 day. On Friday we both enjoyed a little trail run around a local state park before heading in to Boston to collect Nikki's bib number and then watch the Red Sox play in the evening.  This year the weather was inexplicably cold, which we hadn't packed for, to which I can attest as Nikki had my coat on having not thought to bring hers.  We left the game early due to the cold weather and the fact that Boston were getting whooped.

Saturday morning we were up early and back in Boston for me to run my marathon....ok so it was only 5km but it felt like a marathon to me.  This was my way of getting involved having been so close to the bombs last year and as they'd specifically prevented bandits from running this year it was my only avenue knowing I'll never run a Boston qualifying time.

Saturday evening was emotional as we attended the Respite Center BBQ hosted at EMC headquarters. Seeing Mary and Sharon again and the familiar faces of Mikey, Amanda and Amir as well as others brought back the memories.  Sharon remembered standing near me when the first blast went off, hearing this and everybody else's accounts reminded me how close we came to meeting our maker that day. We have a lot to thank the Respite Center for, especially Sharon and Mary who got us those passes, that moved us from harms way.  I will never forget!

Sunday was a lazy day, with Nikki relaxing with some light shopping and an early Italian dinner with Amir, Amanda and Fabio, everybody was keen to get their heads down in preparation for the big day.  

Monday morning I dropped Nikki at the Respite Center near the start line early doors, due to heightened security I had to get the car out of the area before the roads closed at 7am. This provided me with plenty of time to get into Boston and get parked up on Clarendon street before those roads closed at 8am.  Nikki would have the luxury of avoiding the athletes village and could relax with the other EMC and Respite Center team runners before heading through yet more security to the starting corrals around 11am.

The finish line in 2013 before the bombs went off

Prior to the wheelchair athletes starting there was a moments silence held at 0845 in both Hopkinton and in Copley square.  The silence in Boston, in memory of those who lost their lives or were injured last year was, metaphorically, the noisiest and most powerful retort the running world could lay down in the face of terrorism. To say emotions were running high would be an understatement, as all eyes watched how the running community would respond.

And respond they did, with the start of the race underway, the people lined the streets cheering and shouting at every runner who came past them, from the elites to those less able, from old to young, they all received the love and admiration of the people of Boston.  To have the privilege of seeing and hearing these people all along the course help and encourage complete strangers, all standing shoulder to shoulder against terrorism, was inspirational and restores your belief in human kindness.

As the day drew on, the temperature increased to probably just above what I would consider comfortable, especially as most people would have trained through winter, they were going to suffer slightly more than anticipated.  This was true for Nikki, who also had the misfortune of throwing what she thought was a cup of water over her head but turned out to be a sticky Gatorade energy drink.  This reminded me of Fabio's story of 2013 when he grabbed what he thought was food on a stick and popped it in his mouth at the same time as the guy shouted "don't eat it, it's Vaseline".  At mile 20 your brain doesn't always process things in the correct way.

Walking around the finish area and seeing the tears (of joy I hope), the smiles and the general good spirits it was clear to me that Boston had responded in the best possible way, by putting on a bigger marathon event than ever before (36k runners) and showing the world that it is possible to protect 26.2 miles of streets.  This was likely the safest place in the world, with a heavy Police, Army and I'm sure FBI, CIA, etc presence along the route with numerous helicopters flying backwards and forwards and security checks for everybody getting near the course.  I hope that this isn't a sign of how these events have to be organised in future and some "normality" can return next year.  It is heart warming to know that it can be done as it would have been easier and cheaper for sure to cancel the event but that would have sent completely the wrong message to the world for sure!

Nikki completed her journey crossing the finish line 1 year 4 hours and 30 minutes after it started in 2013. She ran an amazing race and although she had some stomach issues and the heat to deal with (it's apparently harder for gingers), it was always about the journey rather than position or time. I can't say if we'll be back to run Boston again but we will certainly return as it's a great city and I feel I have a connection with the people as the memories of 2013 and 2014 marathons will be permanently ingrained in me forever.  Boston is Strong and long may it remain so!

My Boston 2014 winner!