Mid start ayatollah

The Marlborough Downs Challenge rolls over verdant Wiltshire countryside, criss-crosses ancient paths and trails, ascends the biggest hills in the locality and brings you into contact with imperious human additions to the landscape:  The Cherhill Monument and White Horse, the pre-historic stone circle at Avebury and the Kennet and Avon Canal. For many reasons this is one of my favourite events; In 2009 it was the first ultra I ever ran, I get to run with my brother who lives nearby, the route is glorious, the sun always seems to shine, it’s well organised and it’s very runnable. If this weren’t enough, the KLF/Timelords, the band I answered questions on on Mastermind, filmed large parts of the video for their number 1 Doctorin The Tardis on sections of the route.

So after another long week of personal training in North London, I swapped Kentish Town for Marlborough and arrived at the start with my brother where we met my friend Robbie Dolan. Ed and Robbie, both in vests, were sporting some dramatic sunburn lines which looked quite comical as we made our way to the start at Marlborough College. The weather was promising with sunny blue skies framing the early morning greenery. And with heavy rain forecast later in the day we had every incentive to get around the route as quickly as possible whilst the sun still shone.

Following on from the Yorkshire 3 Peaks a fortnight earlier, I decided to try and stick with Ed this time and see if I could keep up. At 9am and under clear skies, we were on our way. We set off at the front of the race and comfortably settled in somewhere around 10th place. Travelling over fields into the glorious bluebell woods thick with the scent of wild garlic, we progressed onto the Wansdyke path as the sun gradually receding into thin white cloud. For the next 7 or 8 miles the pace was settled and for a couple of checkpoints, with the nearest runners a couple of hundred metres in front and a behind, we shared the fields with bemused cattle and darting swallows.

By the time we reached the Kennet and Avon canal, a place we had pre-arranged to go hard and fast, I began to feel stretched trying to keep up with Ed. The long canal section is around 3 miles of flat concrete path. I can run a 5k (3.1 miles) in 19 minutes on a good day and so presumed trying to keep up with Ed over this distance would be simple. I kept with him for the duration of the canal but it had become a big strain as we arrived at Checkpoint 4, and as I paused to drink, he was off again up and I wasn’t. In relation to the speed we were travelling I don’t think I’d taken on enough fuel in the previous hour and slowed right down. He disappeared into the distance whilst my previously steady speed regressed into a plod. Approaching the next steep climb I resolved to walk it and hoped that temporarily taking my foot off the gas would allow me enough recovery to get going again once I reached the top. Whilst thinking this and marching up the hill, out of nowhere a pulse of about ten competitors appeared, all of whom sailed past me up the slope. Not good I thought. I pressed on to the next checkpoint concerned at my deteriorating pace as another group of  four or five runners again passed me shortly before it. At 18 miles in we were over half way, but I had seriously mistimed my race if I was flagging this much already.

Travelling over hills, around the edge of ploughed fields and through churned up grazing land, my sore feet, hamstrings and a continuing energy deficit conspired to keep me from running at a speed I was happy with. It was no less than my strategy deserved though, as yet more runners overtook me shortly before Checkpoint 6 at 21 miles. This time I decided to have a proper refuel (jelly babies) and mini rest (1 minute) in order to collect myself. It didn’t feel like it had worked as a trekked upwards across Cherhill Down towards the monument and White Horse but as I passed over the top at 22 miles in and began to descend, my body came alive again. I put some music on and things further improved. From here on in I felt like I was motoring, which was apt because I was running by the A4, and I pressed on with renewed vigour to checkpoint 7 just short of Avebury.

I didn’t pause for long here, but again, despite my improved pace, runners were bearing down on me. Not this time I thought, and set off again through the relative bustle of Avebury and it’s stone circle. I like how this ancient ring of rocks manages to remain stubbornly ethereal despite the village having been built directly in it’s centre and the coachloads of ice-cream guzzling tourists clambering all over it. Temporarily distracted, I pushed on into a light drizzle and prepared my self for the final seven or so miles, plotting to go steady away up and over the Ridgeway before turning it on over the last 5k to the finish. And as the rain began to really set in, this is exactly what I did. With three miles to go I arrived at Checkpoint 8 having successfully pushed ahead of the runners behind me as it also began occur that I might still have a sub 5 hour finish left in me. I only had 25 minutes to do it though, so with 30 miles done, I hared off towards the finish line. For the first time since the very start, I went past people, reclaiming positions from five or six of the blokes who’d gone past me when I was flagging. As the end approached, the rain thickened and I looked relentlessly between my watch and the steady downhill trail, I pushed harder and harder to get back to the finish.

Unfortunately though it wasn’t to be and with only the final turn to go, the number 4 turned into a number 5 on my watch face and agonisingly short, I crossed the line in 5.02.29, 23rd place overall. Nonetheless I was happy with my recovery after a big dip in the third quarter of the race and happy to finish in a personal best time for the 33 miles and 3000+ feet of elevation on this route.

I suspect if I’d set off at a slightly slower pace and not tried to keep up with Ed (who finished 9th in 4.46.40) I would have probably maintained a more consistent pace overall and subsequently finished quicker. Speculation which I’ll put into practise next year. Next up though is the Hardmoors 110 miler in two weeks time. I’ve got 33 hours to beat from 2012 and after my running in recent weeks, I’m feeling confident. Although as Ed’s not running any of it this time, I’ll have to think of someone else to blame if I don’t.

A busy week of personal training in North London came to an end on Friday. I set off up the M1 back to the county where people know how to pronounce bath and grass. After a prolonged journey I got home, ate some dinner with my family and went to bed to get maximum rest. This was scuppered by my failure to close the blinds in the bedroom and I was duly woken by glorious sunshine at 5am. This was not too big a problem; I’d happily exchange an hour less sleep for sunny conditions – the difference in weather between the top and bottom of the peaks is marked. A strong breeze at the foot of these hills is a gale at the top, while on a chilly day such as this light drizzle becomes sleet and rain becomes snow. Sun is good.

I was running this race with my brother Ed. After a pleasant drive we arrived at the start and sat in the car discussing race strategy. I was inclined to start steady and try and stay strong throughout, Ed wanted to gain maximum time early on to compensate for the single file and consequently slow journey you have to make up Ingleborough at the end of the race. This discussion was interspersed with locating and then consuming the large number of sweets that Ed’s little boys require him to have in his car at any given moment. We gathered at the start, and at 10am we were let out up the hills for the day.

Pre-race view of Pen Y Ghent from the car

The first ascent up Pen Y Ghent is a favourite run. I often used to tackle it when I was living in Yorkshire. It is runnable at all times, but nothing less than hard work at any given moment. This graft was relieved momentarily as we approached the brow of a small foothill at the base of the giant;  a man in a Southern counties running vest, to the entertainment of all nearby, asked “‘Is that the summit?”. I was up the peak in 43 minutes. I was aiming for 45 so I was happy, despite the fact that as we reached the summit a classic wintry shower was in full effect gritting our faces with a mixture of sleet, hail and snow. The descent was complicated by this, and also by my shoes. Since my Hokas fell apart I have only been running in Nike Pegasus-  great on the flat, but not so good on a twenty per cent gradient, loose rock and mud descents.  But I arrived at the bottom in one piece.

Pen Y Ghent (on a good day)

After a long six or seven undulating miles to the beautiful Ribblehead viaduct we arrived at the base of Whernside. I tackled this with all the gusto I could muster. The climb is the steepest and hardest of the lot and for certain sections it requires your hands as well as your feet. I didn’t move up or down the field throughout this ascent but kept my place in the pack. This was satisfactory. However, upon completion (which brings with it a massive sense of relief, glorious views and encouraging marshals cheering you on) I was alarmed to see large numbers of people sailing past me. Try as hard as I might, my shoes were not offering anywhere near the amount of grip I needed on the steep descent. To be fair, neither were my legs. Only when the trail evened did I start to claw places back from the assorted runners who had sailed past me minutes earlier. These runners were invariably wearing club vests from places like the Calder Valley, Esk and Wharfedale, places which offer notably more fell training opportunities than one can find in North London. Whilst making a mental note to locate and then endlessly run all the hills in and around the capital this summer, I arrived at the Hill Inn checkpoint.

Runners on Whernside in a previous year

From here we went straight back up to Ingleborough. I found this climb to be the most rewarding of the lot and went past 20 or so people on the way up.  There remained snow in the shaded crevices of the mountain which the almost-warm lunchtime sunshine was doing its best to melt. I raced to the top thinking the descent would be the easiest part of the day, five miles downhill all the way to the finish. However, in a classic example of my short term memory tricking me into thinking I’m a better runner than I actually am, I was failing to consider that it is a tricky descent. My shoes were not up to it, I was exhausted, and I already had empirical evidence of two poor descents. Consequently I trotted (staggered) off down the hill whilst everyone I had overtaken on the way up zoomed down past me. ‘C’est la vie’ I thought as I stumbled through the spectacular limestone pavement, doing my best not to sever a limb as the finish gradually approached.

Ingleborough descent

I got around in 4.47. Ed beat me by 15 minutes. The margin would have been bigger if he hadn’t cramped up on Whernside, so a very well done to him.  From my perspective I felt strong and had more to give at the finish. This is what I wanted to happen as I’m attempting another completion of the Hardmoors 110 miler at the end of May and am aiming for under 30 hours. It’s all very well haring around these short courses trying to get a brilliant time but I need more hours on my feet not less. That’s my excuse anyway! Aside from the drops off Whernside and Ingleborough where I lost a lot of time, I had an excellent day’s running. I am already eagerly anticipating next year’s instalment. The views, the people, the route, the marshals and not not least the weather, make this a fantastic day out.

Finishing

*London readers, each of these hills is the height of two and a half Shards.**

**Yorkshire readers, the Shard is a big tower, less than half the height of Whernside.

Every April since as far back as I can remember, I watched the London marathon on television and thought to myself ‘I wish I could do that’, before dismissing the idea and returning to my hangover or a fry-up or a cigarette or bed… or whatever it was that was most pressing that morning.

Running 26.2 miles was beyond my comprehension. Indeed, up until six years ago I don’t think I ever ran more than two miles in one go.

Last year I ran the marathon distance more than 10 times and during the Hardmoors 110 ran 4 and a half back to back marathons, on steep trails, in one go. In doing so I made commonplace what I once thought was impossible. You might not want to make marathon running commonplace, but if you want to get 26.2 miles under your belt and achieve something that less than one per cent of the UK and US population have managed, than I want to help you do it. I know how to get you to the finish line. But more importantly, I know how to get you to the start. It is not the marathon that’s the really hard work; it is the months of training you put in beforehand that enable you to cover the really hard yards.

With my help you can join the elite group who can proudly stand up and say that they have completed a marathon.

Give me a call.

Click here for prices and rates.

After a DNF (injury) for Hardmoors 60 and a winter of personal training in Kentish Town, north London, I was more than a little excited about the 2013 instalment of the Hardmoors 55. I’d been training hard, posting fast times over shorter distances and relishing an opportunity to get back out onto the North York Moors. I enjoy living in London, but the running isn’t a patch on what Yorkshire offers.

As race day approached so did a blast of Arctic air from the east. Late march felt like mid-winter as the UK got a vigorous covering of snow. I drove north with my friend Tim who was due to run the Coniston 14 race at the same time as the Hardmoors. But his race was cancelled, as was seemingly every other race in the north of England bar the Hardmoors, so he came over to support my effort and do his weekend’s running on the moors instead. We were driven by Lars,who after an epic wintry  journey from Halifax to pick us up in Harrogate got us to the start line in Guisborough with only the minimum ammount of wheel spinning. The snow seemed to lessen as we moved away from the Pennines and crossed the A1; while conditions were absolutely freezing they were not looking disastrous. This might be runnable, I thought.

Assembling at the start I chatted with the many familiar faces who make up the Hardmoors crew and was pleased to see lots of new ones. It is a testament to the tough but friendly spirit of Jon Steele’s Hardmoors events that they continue to grow. Jon gave us the required talk about staying safe out there and then… we were off.

It made an exhilarating change to be running through Guisborough woods on fresh legs. I enjoyed the journey as I sauntered up to Highcliff Knabb and chatted to Julien Pansiot, before he disappeared like lightning down towards Roseberry Topping. How did he negotiate the icy steps to the base of the peak so fast? Our first taste of what was to come came as we ascended Roseberry Topping. The wind was piercing. It seemed to travel, like Mr Ibison’s reprimands in Physics, in through one ear and straight out the other. My nose was dripping and my ears were ringing. Once down from the checkpoint on the summit things calmed down and I naively hoped there would not be too much more of that sort of thing. Well it’s not like there are lots of exposed summits on the Cleveland way or anything. I ran back up onto the moor, over to Captain Cook’s monument and down into Kildale. Everything felt great. I started fantasising about a quick time.

At the Kildale checkpoint my support crew were notable by their absence. They had been waylaid by a bakery. Tim was planning to run with me from Kildale over to Wainstones, but as I refuelled and talked to them on the phone it was clear they would not be with me any time soon. I pushed on.

The next stretch was Blowarth crossing. This is one of the hardest stretches. Whatever the weather it is bleak and exposed and it always seems to drag. However, nothing could have prepared me for the conditions this time. I was in a thin trickle of runners, in ones and twos, each separated by about 20 metres, slowly making their way up the moor. The climb was constant and the higher we got the harder things became. Conditions changed from no lying snow to a thin dusting, then to a few inches and much ice, next to a couple of feet. Meanwhile the strong breeze at the foot turned into a blood-freezing fury as we neared the top. For most of the climb I was running directly behind Kev Borwell.  For most of the crossing the only meaningful communication we managed was when he turned round at 10 minute intervals to shout ‘F***ing hell’. So strong was the wind that it even drowned out the noise of my full volume, in ear i-pod. I tried to chivvy myself; I could not easily move my jaw; my fingers were numb inside waterproof gloves; for the first time in my life my teeth felt as if they were freezing.

But I still felt strong. Then, at the very moment I self-clipped at Blowarth crossing and turned west to descend the moor, my left foot suddenly felt perishing. I looked down. My big toe was poking out  of my less-than-three-month-old Hoka shoes. This riled me. Just as immediately I became concerned  that getting down would not be as easy as I had planned. Running down hill in snow with your foot trying to escape from the side of your shoe is tricky. It also allows snow free entry to your shoe. So after one of the more testing two-hour journeys of my life I came down off the moor. Tim and Lars were waiting with a car boot full of food.

Tim would now run with me up Wainstones and onward to Osmotherley. However, after checkpointing and setting off back up the slope, my broken shoe was unmanageably awkward at anything over walking pace. This sapped my mood. In any case, my speed up and over the icy stones was slow. It was also tricky as frozen rocks and dodgy footwear combined to make my progress look like that of someone in an opening scene of Casualty. The wind on Wainstones was half as bad as it had been on Blowarth, but it was still tough. I caught my foot in a rock; the hole in my shoe grew bigger. By the time we reached Lord’s Cafe checkpoint I knew I was not going anywhere in a hurry unless I could find new shoes. Tim’s trainers were too big. Lars’s would not last five minutes. I had no spares in the car; the checkpoint was in the middle of nowhere. So that was that. I stopped. No injury, no mental breakdown, plenty of energy –  just broken shoes.

At the time I was not unhappy. The conditions were brutal. In hindsight I am deeply disappointed. The race attracted 119 finishers.  I raise my hat to each and every one of them. Carrying oneself for 55 miles in good conditions is impressive; doing so in the kind of weather we experienced on 23 March is extraordinary. While I am dismayed that I was not one of those who finished, I am, as always, honoured to have rubbed shoulders with those who did.

Next up: the Yorkshire 3 Peaks, Marlborough Downs Challenge and then… the Hardmoors 110 2013. You’ll see me at the start line. I’ll be the one with several shoe boxes in my rucksack.

1. I don’t have the time (38%)
2. It was too cold/dark to leave the house (23%)
3. It was too expensive (21%)
4. I thought it was boring (18%)
5. I thought if I rested on a particular day, I would exercise more the next day (7%)
6. I didn’t want other gym members to see me red and sweaty (4%)
7. I had just washed my hair/sports kit (4%)
8. I didn’t want to carry my sports kit around (2%)
9. If I went for a run, I may get lost (1%)
10. I thought too much exercise was bad for me (1%)

Lets make no bones about it. All of these obstacles are surmontable and require you to answer just one question. How much do you want to get fit?

38% cited lack of time as their biggest obstacle to getting fit. Yet if you really want to get fit it is not an excuse at all. Some of my most regular and hard working clients put in 60+ hours a week in their job combined with busy home and social lives. They have less time than any other people I know, yet they still manage to make time for the gym because they know health and fitness are crucial aspects of a happy life. To see benefits from exercise you need to be exercising for around 3 hours spread across the week. 3 hours isn’t very much time when you put it into context of how much TV you might be watching each week or how much time you could save by getting up a bit earlier each day. Have a think about it and then do something about it.

Secondly, 23% of people said “It was too cold/dark to leave the house.”. I only have three words to say to that: Suck. It. Up. Being afraid of the dark is an excuse most of us put into retirement by our 6th birthdays. And too cold? You’re in the wrong country if you don’t like shivering. Getting fit isn’t easy and if you’re too soft to cope with the night time or dress appropriately for adverse weather conditions then I suggest that you will find it hard to ever get fit. Especially when the obvious solution is to just stay inside and train indoors!

‘It was too expensive’ say 21% of people. Most of us aren’t lucky enough to have unlimited disposable income and we have to be careful about how we prioritise it. That said, how highly do you value your health? People don’t think twice about spending £50 on one night out, but when it comes to a gym membership they do. If you want to look and feel great when you socialise, then go out a little less and look after yourself a little more. If a gym membership is still too much, how about getting involved in an outdoor fitness group like Outfit, which couldn’t be much cheaper. Or even better, why not lace up your trainers and go for a run. It’s free.

18% of people are easily bored and cite this as their reason for not exercising. If this is you, then I challenge you to come and do a complimentary session with me. And anyway, as my mum has always said ‘only boring people get bored’.

7%  thought ‘if I rested on a particular day, I would exercise better the next day.’ Rest is just as important as exercise. You need to do the exercise though! When you pencil in to do a session, you must do it and not get side tracked, distracted, demotivated or lazy. As with anything in life, if you say you are going to do something then you must do it. 7 rest days a week won’t liberate you from that embarrassing waistline.

4% of respondents ‘didn’t want other gym members to see me red and sweaty.’ You must always remember 99% of people in gyms are entirely preoccupied with how they themselves look. Why do you think there are mirrors everywhere? Getting red and sweaty is what happens when you exercise. Enjoy it and where it as a badge of pride. You are an adult, you can deal with this.

The excuses come thick and fast after this. I had just washed my hair/sports kit (4%), I didn’t want to carry my sports kit around (2%), If I went for a run, I may get lost (1%) are not legitimate reasons to neglect your own personal health and well being. If you want to get fit and look and feel great, you will get yourself out to exercise. If you are making excuses like these ones just listed, then you need to completely reassess your thinking.

Lastly: ‘I thought too much exercise was bad for me’. 1%. Of course you did, you never do any. But just in case this point needs any clarification, too much exercise is only bad for you in extremis. Short of this, it is only going to benefit you.

The list of excuses outlined above all have one thing in common. They are just excuses. Outside of time and responsibility constraints, there should be no excuse for not exercising regularly. Human beings have evolved to become mobile and agile persistence hunters not designed or equipped to cope with sedentary lifestyles. You want to live long and prosper, look and feel great, exude confidence and tackle challenges with gusto? Then treat yourself with respect and mobilise your body today!

Hardmoors in Winter

A quiet winter has seen me attempt to raise my fitness levels back to somewhere near where they were last June; they currently aren’t but i’m on my way.

In 2013 I’ve decided to take on slightly fewer races with a view to running the entire Pembrokshire coastal path under my own steam in late June. 186 miles and 35,000ft of ascent mean it’s a challenge I will not be taking lightly.

In February I’m going to be ramping things up with the relatively short 30 mile Punchbowl Marathon in Surrey. I’m treating this as a stepping stone rather than a serious race, but hopefully my newly cared for limbs and joints will be up to the challenge.

March sees a return to a great part of the world and the Hardmoors 55. I took it easy last year but if things are feeling good this time around I’d like to have a real crack at this course and dip under 10.5 hours.

In April I’ll be back up north again to tackle the Yorkshire 3 Peaks. These three mountains spread over 24.5 miles are tough and again, I really want to do the route justice. I fell over on Pen Y Ghent in 2009 and withdrew, then in 2011 and 2012 I supported my brother having failed to register in time. So 2013 is the year. We’ll see how I get on with training on the slight gradients of Hampstead Heath.

In mid May I am going to run the Marlborough Downs Challenge again. My brother was third last year and i’m sure i’m quicker than him at the moment, so who knows how I might get on… insert DNF joke here!

At the end of May it’s the Hardmoors 110 again and the end of June is when I have pencilled in to run the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path. I haven’t entirely committed to the 110 mile race this year as an attempt to take on 186 miles and 35,000ft of Welsh coastline only one month after running a 113 miles on the Cleveland Way is a big ask. I’d like to do both… I suspect I should just do one.

July and August are time to rest and rediscover a bit of ‘speed’ whilst September will see a return to the moors for glorious Hardmoors 60.

I can’t wait.

In my spare time, I like to do a bit of personal training in North London too.  If you are training for any race; marathon, half-marathon or 10k, want to shape up for summer or simply improve your overall health, please don’t hesitate to get in touch.

Good luck with all your projects in 2013 and don’t forget to train hard!

In November I took a break from personal training in North London and appeared on Mastermind. Next to contestants specialising in Stalin, William Golding and When The Boat Comes In, I took on the heavyweight subject of 90′s dance pranksters, The KLF… Have a look at the bit where I did well here.

Video: Hardmoors 110 2012