Weight on 1st January - 73.9kg
Weight on 1st February - 73.0kg
Percentage Weight Loss - 1.37%
Number of Sessions - 18
Number of Speed Sessions - 5
Number of Races - 1
Time Spent Running - 26:43 Hours
Total Number of Miles - 165.32
Number of Road Miles - 98.46
Number of Off Road Miles - 66.86
Total Amount of Ascent - ~17,000’
Calories Burnt - ~20,000kCal
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
Monday, 23 January 2012
The Hebden 2012
The Hebden 2012
Having done the Two Crosses short course in 2011, I was keen to do another Long Distance Walkers Association (LWDA) event. I knew that I would be guaranteed a friendly welcome and as much food as I could eat, all included in the very reasonable £9 entrance fee. I opted for the 22 mile long course and more worryingly than the distance, a whopping 4,500 foot plus of ascent and descent.
The LWDA have welcomed fell runners to their events for a number of years and high profile events like the Hebden now have more runners than walkers, with around 180 runner and a further 100 walkers entered for the longer challenge. It is also worth remembering that these events are not races, but that doesn’t stop people trying to come as near to the front of the field as possible. The field looked to have no shortage of fast runners.
An early start got me to registration in Mytholmroyd for around twenty past seven, where I found a rapidly filling community centre. I picked up my number, a little tag to wear around my neck on a piece of string and got chatting to the various other runners from local clubs at I knew. Sipping on my sports drink I was aware that my stomach hadn’t really settled and I was feeling a little bloated, but it wasn’t a race and the terrain would dictate that I wouldn’t be going very fast.
It was getting light as we gathered outside ready for an eight o’clock start, despite being mild, the wind made it quite chilly in a thin long sleeved running top. My plan was simple, try and follow Scott Sadler from Middleton Harriers, firstly Scott is a better fell runner than me and secondly, he knew the route, which I didn’t.
We were started very informally on the chime of eight o’clock and I settled in just behind the leading group, the first mile was fairly flat, following trails out of the village and down the valley, but the pace was fast and my stomach didn’t like it, I was also starting to regret carrying a rucksack with full waterproofs and an extra top, where I could of got away with my small bum bag with just my waterproof jacket and the map.
I shadowed Scott to the first major climb, at which point he pulled away. Quite a few runners overtook me on the climb as I struggled with the discomfort of my stomach and a general lack of energy, probably due to not enough sleep the previous night. I settled into a steady pace and people were no longer passing me.
By the eight mile point, I did not always have people to follow and had to either get the map out or in some cases a runner who knew the way would catch up and I would follow. I probably lost five minutes over the course of a few miles due to not being familiar with the route, but at least I got a bit of a breather. At ten miles the route descended on a steep track down to the valley bottom close to Callis Bridge, I really struggled on the descent, one I had stormed down a few weeks earlier when recce’ing leg 2 of the Mary Towneley, my stomach was still holding me back.
I stopped for a minute at the checkpoint and had a drink, but declined the large array of food available. One of the marshals commented that I looked like I had a limp, but I am pretty sure it was just holding back because of my stomach. Across the road and the start of a long ascent, steep at first but then more gentle and again a few delays whilst route choices were made. Up on Hebden Moor the wind was very strong making progress difficult. Once over the top of the hill a long gradual descent allowed me to stretch my legs a bit and overtake a couple of runners.
The checkpoint at fourteen miles marked the point where the short course runners and walkers headed back to Mytholmroyd. I had a quick drink and headed on my way up another hill. Again I was struggling a bit with the route and feeling pretty knackered, I was overtaken by a small group of runners and the next couple of miles where a real struggle.
At the next checkpoint I grabbed a slab of chocolate cake and allowed the wind to blow me up a hill as I ate it. Heading over the moor, the wind was blowing so hard I could not run in a straight line, but another long gradual descent meant I was able to speed up and start overtaking the group that had passed me earlier. Getting closer to the twenty mile mark, there was just one last raise and then a run down the valley side where I manage to pull away from those I had passed, followed by a trail back into Mytholmroyd.
I stopped my watch at four hours and ten minutes in forty-ninth place, reasonably happy, but aware that I could do better. I have already decided that I want to run it next year, when I will know the way, will reduce my kit a bit and hopefully the wind, mud and my stomach will be a little kinder. My target for 2013 will be under three hours and forty minutes.
I registered my finish and got myself a very welcome hot meat pie. My legs felt pretty shot and very tight, but luckily free professional sports massage had been arranged for those that wanted it and a very nice lady spent twenty minutes inflicting unimaginable torture in order to loosen up my calves, it must have worked, because I managed to run the hilliest eight miles of the Mary Towneley loop the next day.
Having done the Two Crosses short course in 2011, I was keen to do another Long Distance Walkers Association (LWDA) event. I knew that I would be guaranteed a friendly welcome and as much food as I could eat, all included in the very reasonable £9 entrance fee. I opted for the 22 mile long course and more worryingly than the distance, a whopping 4,500 foot plus of ascent and descent.
The LWDA have welcomed fell runners to their events for a number of years and high profile events like the Hebden now have more runners than walkers, with around 180 runner and a further 100 walkers entered for the longer challenge. It is also worth remembering that these events are not races, but that doesn’t stop people trying to come as near to the front of the field as possible. The field looked to have no shortage of fast runners.
An early start got me to registration in Mytholmroyd for around twenty past seven, where I found a rapidly filling community centre. I picked up my number, a little tag to wear around my neck on a piece of string and got chatting to the various other runners from local clubs at I knew. Sipping on my sports drink I was aware that my stomach hadn’t really settled and I was feeling a little bloated, but it wasn’t a race and the terrain would dictate that I wouldn’t be going very fast.
It was getting light as we gathered outside ready for an eight o’clock start, despite being mild, the wind made it quite chilly in a thin long sleeved running top. My plan was simple, try and follow Scott Sadler from Middleton Harriers, firstly Scott is a better fell runner than me and secondly, he knew the route, which I didn’t.
We were started very informally on the chime of eight o’clock and I settled in just behind the leading group, the first mile was fairly flat, following trails out of the village and down the valley, but the pace was fast and my stomach didn’t like it, I was also starting to regret carrying a rucksack with full waterproofs and an extra top, where I could of got away with my small bum bag with just my waterproof jacket and the map.
I shadowed Scott to the first major climb, at which point he pulled away. Quite a few runners overtook me on the climb as I struggled with the discomfort of my stomach and a general lack of energy, probably due to not enough sleep the previous night. I settled into a steady pace and people were no longer passing me.
By the eight mile point, I did not always have people to follow and had to either get the map out or in some cases a runner who knew the way would catch up and I would follow. I probably lost five minutes over the course of a few miles due to not being familiar with the route, but at least I got a bit of a breather. At ten miles the route descended on a steep track down to the valley bottom close to Callis Bridge, I really struggled on the descent, one I had stormed down a few weeks earlier when recce’ing leg 2 of the Mary Towneley, my stomach was still holding me back.
I stopped for a minute at the checkpoint and had a drink, but declined the large array of food available. One of the marshals commented that I looked like I had a limp, but I am pretty sure it was just holding back because of my stomach. Across the road and the start of a long ascent, steep at first but then more gentle and again a few delays whilst route choices were made. Up on Hebden Moor the wind was very strong making progress difficult. Once over the top of the hill a long gradual descent allowed me to stretch my legs a bit and overtake a couple of runners.
The checkpoint at fourteen miles marked the point where the short course runners and walkers headed back to Mytholmroyd. I had a quick drink and headed on my way up another hill. Again I was struggling a bit with the route and feeling pretty knackered, I was overtaken by a small group of runners and the next couple of miles where a real struggle.
At the next checkpoint I grabbed a slab of chocolate cake and allowed the wind to blow me up a hill as I ate it. Heading over the moor, the wind was blowing so hard I could not run in a straight line, but another long gradual descent meant I was able to speed up and start overtaking the group that had passed me earlier. Getting closer to the twenty mile mark, there was just one last raise and then a run down the valley side where I manage to pull away from those I had passed, followed by a trail back into Mytholmroyd.
I stopped my watch at four hours and ten minutes in forty-ninth place, reasonably happy, but aware that I could do better. I have already decided that I want to run it next year, when I will know the way, will reduce my kit a bit and hopefully the wind, mud and my stomach will be a little kinder. My target for 2013 will be under three hours and forty minutes.
I registered my finish and got myself a very welcome hot meat pie. My legs felt pretty shot and very tight, but luckily free professional sports massage had been arranged for those that wanted it and a very nice lady spent twenty minutes inflicting unimaginable torture in order to loosen up my calves, it must have worked, because I managed to run the hilliest eight miles of the Mary Towneley loop the next day.
Friday, 12 August 2011
The Difference A Year Makes
With many family connections around Morecambe Bay and spending lots of time up there over the years, I have always thought that I really should do a bay crossing sometime. Last year, whilst queuing for fish and chips in Hest Bank, I noticed an advert for the “Cross Bay Challenge” a half marathon run across the sands from Flookburgh to Hest Bank. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.
At the time, whilst I occasionally ran, I wasn’t serious about my running and was carrying a bit of extra weight, but did a few runs up to ten miles and knew I could get around the course. I knew I wouldn’t be particularly fast, but thought that I could probably do a half in an hour and forty-five minutes on the road, but across the sands might be a little slower.
Come race day, I set off at seven and a half minute mile pace, but by three miles was starting to struggle with the rutted surface and standing water and finding the running pretty exhausting. I took the first water station as an opportunity to walk a few hundred metres and the same with the second at five miles.
Crossing the main channel of the River Kent at between six and seven miles was another opportunity to walk and whilst I tried to run the second half of the race, it became a war of attrition and much of the rest of the race was spent running half a mile, followed by walking a hundred metres then running another half mile and walking a hundred metres. I staggered over the line in a few seconds under two hours.
So what happened after that? A few weeks later I ran in the Rochdale Harriers 10k and had another disappointing performance, so decided to do something about it. I joined Rochdale Harriers and began training regularly, three or four times a week at first, then as much as six days a week. By September I wasn’t struggling quite so hard to keep up with my training group and felt confident enough to enter a few races. My first 5k was in twenty-one minutes and forty-six seconds, far from spectacular, but an improvement. I also tentatively started doing a little fell running and cross country. Despite a few injury problems towards the end of the year, my times were slowly falling and the New Year seemed to bring a substantial improvement. In February, I went below twenty minutes for 5k for the first time and continued to chip off more and more time through March and April.
March was a big month race wise, a 10k with PB potential at Trafford and an opportunity to run a fast half marathon at Wilmslow, both successful, breaking forty minutes and an hour and a half respectively for the first time. Fast forwarding to July, I had run nearly fifty races since completing the Cross Bay Challenge in 2010, I was around a stone and a half lighter and felt I could put in a much better performance, but was still a little nervous.
I knew I would not get too close to my half marathon PB, but hoped to beat my 2010 time by a decent chunk. I travelled up to Hest Bank on the morning of the race with my club mate Jill, dropped the car off at my Mum’s house and walked down to the finish to get the coach to the start line. In 2010 there had been around three hundred and fifty entrants, thanks to some very positive publicity in the running press, numbers had swelled to over five hundred and fifty this year.
At twelve thirty, after a short safety briefing, we set off in hot but breezy conditions. Starting at the front of the pack, I did my usual trick and set off fast, actually leading the race for a short time. I soon dropped my pace a little and settled into a position around eighth or ninth. Out on the sand I soon felt the heat and was working quite hard as I passed through the first mile in six minutes and twenty seconds. Too fast I thought, this sand must be slowing me down by at least twenty seconds a mile, so don’t overcook it, just keep it below seven. With the slight reduction in speed, I began to feel a little better and manage to do the next five miles between six minutes forty and six minutes fifty, despite some difficult sand conditions. The first lady came past me at around four miles, I thought about giving chase, but decided I needed to run my own race.
The main crossing of the River Kent took place at between six and seven miles, this involved wading a could of hundred metres of water that was above my knee at its deepest, this would add at least a minute and a half to my mile split. As the race turned towards Morecambe the wind became more difficult, progressively getting more difficult as the race went on. The race continued across various combinations of sand and water and at ten miles I was hurting, but the last years racing had taught me that I could hurt and carry on, although my pace was obviously slowing, in part because I had a strong wind in my face. Frustratingly a couple of people passed me within the last half mile and I could do nothing to respond.
I crossed the line with an official time of one hour thirty-one minutes and twenty-eight seconds in twentieth place an improvement of twenty-eight minutes on my 2010 performance. As expected, not as fast as my half marathon personal best set on fast Cheshire roads, but much closer than the eight to fifteen minutes slower that most people reported. I took from that the feeling of being in good shape.
At the time, whilst I occasionally ran, I wasn’t serious about my running and was carrying a bit of extra weight, but did a few runs up to ten miles and knew I could get around the course. I knew I wouldn’t be particularly fast, but thought that I could probably do a half in an hour and forty-five minutes on the road, but across the sands might be a little slower.
Come race day, I set off at seven and a half minute mile pace, but by three miles was starting to struggle with the rutted surface and standing water and finding the running pretty exhausting. I took the first water station as an opportunity to walk a few hundred metres and the same with the second at five miles.
Crossing the main channel of the River Kent at between six and seven miles was another opportunity to walk and whilst I tried to run the second half of the race, it became a war of attrition and much of the rest of the race was spent running half a mile, followed by walking a hundred metres then running another half mile and walking a hundred metres. I staggered over the line in a few seconds under two hours.
So what happened after that? A few weeks later I ran in the Rochdale Harriers 10k and had another disappointing performance, so decided to do something about it. I joined Rochdale Harriers and began training regularly, three or four times a week at first, then as much as six days a week. By September I wasn’t struggling quite so hard to keep up with my training group and felt confident enough to enter a few races. My first 5k was in twenty-one minutes and forty-six seconds, far from spectacular, but an improvement. I also tentatively started doing a little fell running and cross country. Despite a few injury problems towards the end of the year, my times were slowly falling and the New Year seemed to bring a substantial improvement. In February, I went below twenty minutes for 5k for the first time and continued to chip off more and more time through March and April.
March was a big month race wise, a 10k with PB potential at Trafford and an opportunity to run a fast half marathon at Wilmslow, both successful, breaking forty minutes and an hour and a half respectively for the first time. Fast forwarding to July, I had run nearly fifty races since completing the Cross Bay Challenge in 2010, I was around a stone and a half lighter and felt I could put in a much better performance, but was still a little nervous.
I knew I would not get too close to my half marathon PB, but hoped to beat my 2010 time by a decent chunk. I travelled up to Hest Bank on the morning of the race with my club mate Jill, dropped the car off at my Mum’s house and walked down to the finish to get the coach to the start line. In 2010 there had been around three hundred and fifty entrants, thanks to some very positive publicity in the running press, numbers had swelled to over five hundred and fifty this year.
At twelve thirty, after a short safety briefing, we set off in hot but breezy conditions. Starting at the front of the pack, I did my usual trick and set off fast, actually leading the race for a short time. I soon dropped my pace a little and settled into a position around eighth or ninth. Out on the sand I soon felt the heat and was working quite hard as I passed through the first mile in six minutes and twenty seconds. Too fast I thought, this sand must be slowing me down by at least twenty seconds a mile, so don’t overcook it, just keep it below seven. With the slight reduction in speed, I began to feel a little better and manage to do the next five miles between six minutes forty and six minutes fifty, despite some difficult sand conditions. The first lady came past me at around four miles, I thought about giving chase, but decided I needed to run my own race.
The main crossing of the River Kent took place at between six and seven miles, this involved wading a could of hundred metres of water that was above my knee at its deepest, this would add at least a minute and a half to my mile split. As the race turned towards Morecambe the wind became more difficult, progressively getting more difficult as the race went on. The race continued across various combinations of sand and water and at ten miles I was hurting, but the last years racing had taught me that I could hurt and carry on, although my pace was obviously slowing, in part because I had a strong wind in my face. Frustratingly a couple of people passed me within the last half mile and I could do nothing to respond.
I crossed the line with an official time of one hour thirty-one minutes and twenty-eight seconds in twentieth place an improvement of twenty-eight minutes on my 2010 performance. As expected, not as fast as my half marathon personal best set on fast Cheshire roads, but much closer than the eight to fifteen minutes slower that most people reported. I took from that the feeling of being in good shape.
Sunday, 17 July 2011
Going Downhill Fast
No, not a comment on my general physical and mental state, a skill to be learnt in fell running.
I am something of a fell running novice, having only competed in my first race last October. I have two main weaknesses on the fells, but they are significant, running fast up hills and running fast down hills. Now running fast up hills is a problem I seem to share with the vast majority of competitors and in comparison to many I am reasonably fast, I just need to work on my endurance for long ascents and probably man up a bit. Descending fast appears to be much more of a dark art.
A number of times I have been overtaken on descents by runners who I am much faster than on ascents and particularly the flat. Whilst I am never going to worry the sharp end of a fell face, I definitely want to try and get better.
I don’t descent particularly fast even on the road, I have quite a short stride, which helps me climb those hilly roads at a decent speed, but isn’t great for gravity assisted acceleration. On the fells this is compounded by the technical nature of many descents which make the action as mental as it is physical.
The standard advice is to turn off the brakes and disengage the brain. Braking not only slows you down, it causes additional stresses on your body and some would argue actually makes you more likely to have a fall. The problem is you only want to disengage part of your brain that tells your body to constantly brake, not the part that reads the terrain and helps you stay upright.
I think a big part of the problem is that I am a chicken, who likes to feel in control, as my bum twitching experiences of forty mile an hour plus hill descents on my road bike can testify to. That said; there are skills to be learnt and practiced to at least give the brain an illusion of control and most importantly get faster.
I thought it would be useful to try and gather some more detailed advice from some people who have managed to hardwire the skills into their partially disengaged brains.
A common theme seems to be that great descenders are born and not made, but some basic schooling in the art can improve the ability of most. I have looked at and practiced to varying degrees, three tips for going downhill fast.
1. One international mountain runner and winner of numerous fell races, told me that the position of your upper body is crucial, it is in effect both accelerator and brake. Lean into the descent and keep you body weight forward. This takes a certain amount of bravery and can look somewhat reckless, but it does seem to work.
2. Linked to body position is the position of your feet, when descending all but scree, foot should be pointing down the slope, to maximise stud contact. This takes a bit of work, but it is definitely easier if you are starting to get your body position right.
3. Norman Mathews in his book, Fell and Hill Running, talks about “fast feet” by this he means having good eye / foot coordination. I guess this is the hardest and most natural skill to learn, I have certainly found it the most difficult part of my running to change, but there are tricks to make it easier. Look ahead and trust your brain to move your feet without actually looking at them and make sure the length of your stride is matched to the terrain, long strides are inappropriate on ground that is strewn with boulders.
So, how have I got on trying to get faster running down hills. I have had a couple training runs and a fell race since I first started researching and I think I have seen some progress. I managed to overtake a few people on steep descents when I raced at Bull Hill and think I have got quite a bit faster on less steep descents simply by adjusting my body position, but I still have a lot to learn and don’t think I am a natural, so learning will be hard work.
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Sensitive Stomachs
Not for the first time, I had a race performance ruined by stomach cramps the other night.
I was running in the Rochdale Harriers 10k, a tough hilly course, which I was aiming to run a sub 40 on. The forecast was for cool temperatures and rain showers, come the start it was warm and humid. Things started well, after two miles, including the toughest hill on the course, I was comfortably running at just under thirty-nine minute pace. Over the next mile I started experiencing increasing amounts of stomach pain, I slowed a little, but went through 5k in 19:40, still OK.
My second 5k was a disaster. My Garmin was telling me that I had slowed to below seven minute mile pace and the cramping was becoming more and more uncomfortable. At four and a half miles I had to stop running and walk for thirty yards, feeling a little better I managed to run to the finish, but at a little below the pace I would hope to achieve over the last mile and a half of 10k. I crossed the line in 41:09, having run the second 5k nearly two minutes slower than the first. Whilst I am a fast starter, I tend to run races pretty evenly, so this was very disappointing.
So why did it happen? I doubt it was just the heat, I don’t run particularly well when it is hot, but it was warm rather than hot and I have run in hotter conditions without any problem. I have two theories, both relate to hydration.
The first is simply that I did not hydrate enough. Expecting cooler and wetter weather, was I too casual about my hydration. The only drink I had in the two hours before the race was a sip of water, had I drunk enough during the day?
My second theory is that the drink I chose to hydrate with did not suit my stomach. I am not particularly loyal to any brand when it comes to sports drinks, so during a day which involved lots of rushing around, I picked up a couple of bottles of Lucazade Sport, the only choice in the shop I went in. I always find the flavouring quite strong with Lucazade and on this occasion it felt quite harsh on my stomach. Did this cause my problems later on?
So what have I learnt? Hydrate properly and be careful what with, I think I might experiment with a few brands and stick with the one that suits me best.
Will it make a difference? Only time will tell.
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