Lessons From Returning From Injury

When injured, it's easy to lose motivation and suffer from some degree of depression or at least feel sorry for yourself. I generally try to accept things I can't change and look for positives, so the 2.5 months I missed due to my right foot's stress fracture weren't all that bad and I've had a month of getting back into running which has got my juices flowing.

Once I realized I was injured, I focused 100% on doing everything I could to fix it, including fun stuff like spending over a week on crutches and committing to not running until it was completely ready. It took a while to accept the stress fracture at first, but at least it was during my off-season so I wasn't planning on running in the early stages anyway.

I got back to running after a week of walking to test the foot after ditching the crutches. Like any injured athlete I tried to learn everything I could about the injury, likely recovery times etc and none of it sounded as optimistic as I hoped. Again, this is the all-too-familiar route back from injury for athletes of all types, but I hoped that I could use my experience as a personal trainer, coach and common sense to get some kind of edge.

Luckily the fracture seems to have been at the less serious end of the spectrum and the lack of running in off-season helped stop it getting worse from running when I shouldn't. In addition I worked on my lower body and core fitness even before I could walk again, using cycling and weights. Then I used a simple philosophy as soon as I could put weight on the foot again - start off easy with plenty of walking (including with a weight vest after a week or so), backing off at the first hint of anything negative around the stress fracture.

My training plan was as flexible as possible once I tried running again. I didn't even write it down, just going out the door each time to start walking then slow jogging before deciding on how far to go and how hard to push, mainly based on how it felt. Occasionally I pushed a little too much then took the next day off completely, except for a small amount of biking and weights.

Things progressed well and I had five weeks of gradual improvements, including some fast running that surprised me. I also had to take some risks after about three weeks since I have Rocky Raccoon 100 at the end of January and only want to race it it I feel fit and fast. To gauge that I felt I needed to be capable of a marathon at the start of December, eight weeks prior to the 100. So I had that at the back of my mind for the weeks leading up to the California International Marathon, which was yesterday on Dec 7th.

Even on the morning of the marathon I had big doubts and I was completely willing to stop if my foot deteriorated. I had a soreness near my right tibia, so my first thought was that the past month of running might have caused a new stress fracture in a different area. I imagined running 100ft down the road then turning back and trying to get a lift to the finish, going back to square one again with a new injury. However, this time I was willing to back right off and accept the injury immediately, despite not being happy at the prospect. Again, flexibility was the key and denying an injury doesn't make it go away.

Luck was on my side again (I don't count on it, but I'll take it when I can) and at the end of the first mile neither my foot or shin felt anything other than normal. It even looked like I might be able to run a fast marathon. Oh, and I should probably add in one extra detail - I decided to wear my old Spiderman costume to take some of the pressure of running fast and remind me that the main priority was finishing with no injury. No attempts at Guinness World Records this time, but I've found it a very effective way to spice up a marathon and make it more relaxing. Not the best pacing or highest level of fitness at this one so I slowed down a fair bit, but a finish without injury woes is a big win. My Strava data from the race.

CIM. Photo credit: Sacramento Bee

So what did I learn from all this, now my foot felt fine through a marathon and the injury problems are virtually over?

1. Mainly it reinforced the fact that there's no one-size-fits-all path back from injury, something I already knew, but this put it in clearer context. Everyone heals differently based on fitness, age, severity of an injury and a whole host of other factors.

2. It's also vital to discover the cause of the injury to avoid incurring it again. In my case that's less of a problem since it occurred over two days of running at Mt Whitney and Death Valley on sharp rocks with roads shoes and I felt it happen, not like a standard stress fracture occurring over time from overuse.

The path back to fitness needs close guidance from experts, including medical professionals for anything remotely serious. But one of the most important things is the ability of a runner to hold themselves back and not rush into doing too much. Starting runs with a walk, then an easy paced jog is a good way to include this flexibility and often it's possible to do more rather than less when approached this way. It's not an easy process and we all tend to try to do too much to regain our previous level of fitness faster than the body can cope with...but the body is a resilient entity.

For example, Mike Wardian was injured for a long period, losing almost an entire season yet he's now back to racing so much and so fast it would break a mere mortal. He ran (hard) at the North Face Endurance Challenge 50-miler near San Francisco on Saturday then wrapped up the weekend with a 2:33 marathon at CIM. The human body is inspiring, especially in the hands of guys like Mike.

Beginner's Guides to Ultrarunning via Run 24/7

I recently wrote a few articles with some tips for those new to ultras or looking to move up to longer distances. These are on run247.com and have some simple and basic advice.

1. How to move up in distance

2. Nutrition and hydration

3. Injury prevention

4. Race preparation

Not Way Too Cool

So I missed the Way Too Cool 50k yesterday thanks to my calves feeling strained pre- and post-Napa. Was the right call but at least I managed to get a good 20-mile jog in today with the some of the Endurables on Marin's Headlands. Slow and steady but it's hopefully the start of some good hill training for the summer races.

It's always a shame to miss a race, especially one as prestigious as WTC50k, but I didn't see much point in turning up to maybe limp and damage myself. Perhaps I'd have had a good race, but it's better to stick to the plan of getting fit for Comrades and WS100.

And congratulations to Mike Wardian for comfortably breaking my Spiderman record earlier today in just under 2:35. I may have got the record for holding a record for the shortest time :)

Glasgow to Edinburgh for many of the Serpie ultra runners

Pre-race Serpies

The Falkirk Wheel...well, part of it

What a nice tunnel for half a mile

This weekend was the second year of a new race from Glasgow to Edinburgh along canals and it went well for almost all concerned. 56 miles and navigation that basically involved one rule - keep the water on the right. Plus it's as flat as a squished badger, so the perfect ultra for a mass horde of Serpentine runners to attempt, many for their first (proper, i.e. 50 miles+) ultra. It also coincided with a 30th birthday for James Adams, so there were also many turning up in Edinburgh just for the food and drink without going to the bother of burning off the calories first.

12 Serpies had entered but with DNSs and DNFs, only six made it the whole way through. Looks like there's now a significant contingent of ultra runners at our London club, which is only fitting with a Club President, Hilary Walker, who still holds several ultra world records many years after breaking them.

After my couple of months out through injury and the DNF at Rocky Raccoon 100, this was meant to be a chance to have a hard run, without using too much effort. I've got a heavy race schedule over the next few weeks with the Eco Trail de Paris 80k, Jurassic Coast triple marathon and Two Oceans 56k all in quick succession, so I couldn't afford to wipe myself out. And the knee needed to hold up too or a lot of race entry fees would go to waste.

I stayed the night before with Casey in Glasgow, who had been part of the second-placed mixed team at Transalpine. I'd convinced him into running the double marathon but an achilles injury has knocked him out just as he was getting very quick and looked on for a sharp marathon in London. Instead we had a catch up and chatted about the race back in the Alps and about this year's event, which I sadly can't make.

On the morning of the race the forecast and starting conditions were very good, with the Scottish winter easing up so that the only snow was on the nearby mountains. It wasn't even raining and the whole day stayed dry except for a brief light shower mid-afternoon. This isn't the Scotland I'm used to, but it wasn't sunny either so at least one stereotype stood up.

I'd expected a newish race with only 100 entrants and no prize money to have an average field but there were three members of he Scottish 100k team, two male and one female. So my aim of cruising through for a comfy win seemed off the cards, especially when they shot off and really wanted to race it.

Canals aren't the most interesting routes normally, but the background of snowy hills was an improvement on the races I've done on the Grand Union Canal from Birmingham to London. There's also a sight along the way at just over 22 miles in - the Falkirk Wheel. This seems to be partly practical and partly for tourist boats and it lifts barges/boats up from the lower canal to a level 50 feet higher in a carousel-style motion. It was also the only remotely hilly part of the course and surprised me as I had no idea it was there or that a nasty hill would interrupt the easy, but muddy, terrain. Mind you, I think I'd have preferred more hills just to add variety to the course and give the leg muscles a chance to work in different ways instead of just keeping going on the flat. There was a half-mile very dark tunnel just after the Wheel which was a cool addition to the route and I really liked. The slipperiness wasn't great but it made for a memorable, if poorly lit, section. Wish I'd had my camera at that point.

I ran on my own after checkpoint two and was a little bored in third place. I had no inclination to go out hard after the first pair and my legs are only just getting the miles back in them anyway. After keeping up a very even pace to checkpoint four at 42 miles, I lost an incentive to push to the end and decided to jog it in and save my legs so that I could train well during the week. I wanted to know how far behind fourth place was, but reasoned that if he took long enough to catch me I might give him a race to the end as long as my knee and legs felt fine. A slight detour after that checkpoint avoided some scaffolding under a bridge but it was marked and about the only chance to get lost, but you'd have to try hard.

So I had a stretch for a few minutes then jogged a couple of 9-minute miles before working out how long it'd take to finish and decided it was worth going a little quicker just so I'd be on my feet less time. I'd run out of water by this point and the checkpoints only had water and very dilute SIS sports drink (no food). So I ate plenty from my backpack and decided to refill my 2L North Face bladder at the last checkpoint at 47.25 miles. I felt very relaxed and knew that it wasn't long til the end, but then a middle-aged guy zoomed by while I was at the checkpoint.

Suddenly a little spark ignited my competitive streak and I decided to see how fast he was and use his pace to get me to the end a bit earlier. He was clocking 7-minute miles and that was a little above the average pace to this point so I could tell he was just trying to look stronger and drop me so that he could slow down again. But I was feeling very comfy and just sat on his shoulder for a mile to see how he was doing and assess whether I could push past him easily. He did speed up slightly but it was coming up to the last six miles and I wanted to avoid a sprint finish (that's what I now reckon started off my injury in the first place at Fukuoka). So I accelerated and started to really get into the race mood for the first time that day. It's funny that it took his challenge to make me really enjoy the day as I'd have happily cruised into the end at a gentler pace if he hadn't come past me.

I kept the pace at 6:40/mile and stayed at that for a couple of miles to make sure I'd be out of sight and in the clear. I think he slowed down as soon as I overtook as he saw that his burst of pace hadn't dropped me, but I wanted to be sure now that I'd get third as I'd been running for hours and didn't want to have wasted the effort.

Then at just over a mile to go I saw Serpie, Andy Taylor, running the other way and he kept going. I assumed he was getting in a nice run and seeing how many other club members he could see en route after cycling the whole route on a mountain bike first. He told me it was a mile to go, so it looked like my Garmin would show it up as around a mile short, after every checkpoint being exactly the distances advertised. However, after I'd gone a mile and still couldn't see the finish I started to doubt him. He wasn't far out with his estimate and just after that he came up behind me on his way back. Luckily I wasn't struggling and it wasn't a longer race as even minor differences in distances to what's expected can be utterly demoralising in ultras. I finished in third in 6h51m09s and had left myself a comfortable four-minute cushion to fourth.

Overall there were smiles all round and the race went well for most people, apart from the few DNFers, obviously. It's almost exactly the same distance as Comrades at 56 miles (or estimates of 55.2-55.8 from the Garmins I've seen), compared to 55.5 for the down run or around 54.0 for the up run. So that ranks as my second fastest double marathon pace ever. Definitely a good day on my recent mileage. Hopefully the three remaining months to Comrades will mean I can get some pace back and build up to a perfect race. And, most importantly, the knee caused no issues during or after.

The evening's celebrations were chilled after the remaining Serpies came through, mainly before darkness. Serpie results and the winners are below:

Men's winner: Marcus Scotney - 6h22m56s (CR)
Women's winner: Lucy Colquhoun - 7h31m02s

Serpies:
3 - Ian Sharman - 6h51m09s
10 - Claire Imrie - 7h42m05s (2nd woman and her 1st longer ultra!)
11 - Oli Sinclair - 7h43m25s
26 - James Adams - 8h52m07s (birthday boy)
28 - Jen Bradley - 9h00m47s
37 - Diane Haywood - 9h37m55m

72 finishers

DNFs - Nick Copas, Mark Braley

Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler

Pre-race nerves in the car?

The start/finish line for each lap

It's taken a while, but last weekend was my first 100 miler...or should have been. I picked Rocky Raccoon in Huntsville, Texas, because it's a quick course (as 100s go, anyway) with just 5,000ft of climb over the five 20-mile laps. Basically a nice trail to run on, although the heavy rain over the previous days made for a lot of mud and puddles this year. From what I've heard the conditions were better than normal and it was certainly a good course with plenty of aid stations, never more than six miles between them.

Unfortunately, I came to the race still injured and after not training properly for two months. I'd thought the ITB/back of the hamstring issue had gone away after the Arizona marathon in Phoenix but it came straight back. That left two weeks to get some physio from Mark DeJohn (highly recommended by other runners and with a list of impressive elites as clients).

On paper two months of 10-20 miles/week, all of it slow, plus the Bad Ass 50k (slow) and the recent marathon (not too slow and full effort) would not be the ideal build-up. But ultras are funny beasts and there's an art to nailing them which sometimes goes against the science. Therefore, I reasoned it'd still be possible to run the full 100 miles but to do so slower than initially intended and to find it harder. I might even escape making the knee worse. No harm in being an optimist, especially when everything's already been bought and paid for.

Back to last weekend. Huntsville isn't the most exciting place and seems to be mainly famous for being home to Sam Houston, a famous ex-Governor who got a city named after him. There were also lots of people who looked like Jerry Springer extras and a large selection of restaurants with a wide variety of Mexican and barbecue dishes. Couldn't find pasta anywhere, except at the pre-race dinner, but I'd have been there anyway to meet the runners and hear the briefing.

Never before have I turned up to a race where the 50-mile option (three 16.7 mile loops, following most of the 100-mile course) is considered the easy choice. I'd toyed with the (sensible) idea of switching down to this, but I'd entered the 100 and wanted to see if I'd make it round. The 30-hour cut-off should make that a formality as long as my knee didn't go, but I had no intention of taking nearly that long. Maybe it's a bit snobby, but I'm a runner and I like running, so the idea of walking most of the way doesn't appeal. It's one of the main reasons I've avoided 100-milers to date - the pace just seems too slow to be fun. Plus I'd rather be able to race again within a week or so and that's not really possible (at least to actually 'race') with 100s.
I can see the appeal of pushing the body to the limits in the sense of going til you drop, no matter how slow that is. But it doesn't appeal to me in quite that way. I'd rather run, not even shuffle, and certainly not walk (unless it's steep uphill). I'm amazed at the people I meet who set out knowing they'll keep up a pace of 4mph and barely go quicker than that even at the start. It takes real guts and stubbornness. But the challenge I find more interesting is to see how hard I can push it and for how long.

Given that, I intended to jog Rocky Raccoon and see if I could keep it up for the whole distance and avoid pushing the knee too much. So as I lined up in the cold, but not freezing, pre-dawn I was excited to find out what it would feel like to run further and for longer than ever before. Everyone was friendly, as I'd expect from an ultra, and 360 of us got going on to the trails at 6am, with about as many 50-milers starting at 7am.

It took 45 mins for there to be enough light to turn off the headlamps, in which I'd chatted to a few people and generally followed in a line, occasionally stumbling on the protruding tree roots. Knowing that I'd be out until a bit after it got dark again was a daunting thought, although not an unusual one for my ultra friends. There'd be almost 12 hours before I'd need the headlamp again, so I wanted to get as many miles under my belt before the dark slowed me down even more. Maybe just the last 10-15 miles in the dark would be possible, but I wanted at least to have started the last lap by then.

The knee didn't even whisper any complaints and I felt really good jogging through the undulations and frequently seeing the lake in the middle of the forest. Lap one went by before I even knew it and I'd worked myself into a steady pace of around 8 min/miles. Half way through the second lap I was recognising the trails and was surprised to be told I was in second. It doesn't mean anything that early on, but it was good to know that I was in a good position while running my own race sensibly.

The sun got higher and brighter as a beautiful day unfolded and temperatures got pleasantly warm. With the lack of clouds the forest looked great so the run was really enjoyable. Every now and then I'd look at my watch and have a dispiriting thought about how much further I had to go, but each time I just settled back into the moment to keep enjoying it while I could and before it started getting hard.

After 40 miles I had a good idea of what the laps looked like and the frequent aid stations were making things easier by being so well manned and well stocked. Kudos to the organisers for taking some of the hassle out of the race for us, although I'd not bothered to drop a bag apart from at the start/finish area as I knew there was enough food and drink out on the course, plus I had my Camelbak and a strap-bag for food. No doubts had entered my mind so I could just focus on running along and trying to eat enough for later on.

The third lap went well too, although I started to feel a bit more tired through it and slowed down to a 9 min/mile pace. I arrived at 60 miles not wanting to leave the checkpoint. Not because I couldn't, but because I saw 50-milers finishing and kind of wished I'd entered their race as I'd be legitimately done. But I got going after a stretch and knew that every extra step was making this my longest run ever - Comrades at 55.5 miles had been the previous longest.

By the Dam Road aid station, six miles in, I'd shifted from enjoying a comfy pace to almost shuffling and everything being a real effort. All I could do was aim for the next aid station and keep moving, so that's what I did. Walking through an aid station made it hard to get going again so I reasoned it would be better to jog through and basically not stop at all. This reasoning worked in my first Comrades and has the handy benefit of being a lot quicker than stopping and standing around.

However, by the time I reached the 69-mile checkpoint on the long loop back to Dam Road I had to weigh up my race. I had hoped I'd last longer before having to grind out the race so I had to decide how important a finish would be for me. Given the injury and lack of training, I thought that pushing my body into shuffling through the last 30 miles might be a bad idea. By Dam Road at 72.2 miles I'd decided that it would definitely be a bad idea to push things and it could make the knee flare up as well as put me out of racing for a much longer period. So I called it quits after 10h22m, while in second. Being sensible is tough, but I had no interest in walking the remaining 27.8 miles and wanted to cut my losses and bank the pluses from the day.

I walked to the 80 mile mark at a gentle pace, stopping to eat a lot and to stretch frequently. I'd already gone out of racing mode and into recovery mode, but it's difficult to accept a DNF, no matter what the reasons are, especially when self-imposed. I got to the end of the lap in 12h59m, just half an hour after needing to turn my light on. At least I managed to stay out there for the full amount of daylight and to get in a great training run for Western States and the other ultras coming up sooner.

A few days on from that DNF, I can now appreciate just how right my decision was even though it was tough. To just finish the race at all costs, no matter how slow or painful, was not the point. Just to make the starting line had a lot to do with Mark DeJohn's magical therapy and to not damage the knee further was also a critical goal. It seems that my normal road running gait involves planting each foot almost in a direct line, so this twisting of the lower leg in to the centre is what seems to have caused the problem.

But given I was going slowly and on uneven trails, I was able to force my legs to each move in one flat vertical plane of motion, rather than to drift into the middle. Amazingly, this seems to have not just got me through the 80 miles, but to have also worked as a great exercise for the necessary muscles to run in a more neutral way. I think the fact I just started yoga classes for the past couple of weeks also helped to stretch things out enough to make my legs swing more freely. I'm now converted to the benefits of yoga and will keep doing it as much as I can, roughly five hours a week. I can't believe I've done without it for so long as it's so obviously good for me, by not allowing any tightness to force unnatural running movements or gaits. Try it out if you don't mind seeming too girly - at least one other guy is in each of the classes I've been too and I'm graduating from the least flexible by miles to being as bendy (helps to live in Bend, probably) as most in some positions.

My trip to Texas was more successful than I could have expected and it looks like maybe now I can run properly again...but only after a forced week off to give my legs a rest. I'm looking forward to not worrying about the knee and going at a running pace instead of jogging. It's amazing how much I missed it and how frustrating it's been. And congratulations to everyone who finished the 50- or 100-miler as it's never easy going that far, no matter how fit you are. Greg Crowther won the 100 comfortably in 14h58m. I'm sure I'll return to this race, not because I feel I need to beat the course but because it's well organised and I'd like to beat my time of 12h59m, except to have done that last lap too. I know now that I've got more in the tank and that if I turn up fit and prepared I could give it a really good go. Anyone want to join me in 2011?

Like a marathon virgin...

The start on the night before, not moved into the street.

...touched for the very first time...ok, that's just wrong. But that's how I felt at the Arizona marathon in Phoenix last weekend even though nobody touched me. Why? Well, partly because I wasn't sure I'd finish and partly that it was hugely satisfying despite the time.

It's been a busy last week for me, but pretty much everything's gone to plan. Firstly a job interview and offer down in San Jose. Then my visa to get married got through to the next stage. Thirdly (and not last), my knee/ITB injury which has plagued me since Fukuoka in early December seems to have gone away thanks to the marathon. Then finally I missed out on the lottery for the Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc...just as planned...so now I get a guaranteed entry for 2011 when I actually want to run it.

I'm not advocating this for anyone else, but several times now I've got rid of niggles by doing a marathon. Admittedly this was more than a niggle and has been pissing me off for almost two months. But it now does seem to have gone away or at least be on the way off my radar, just in time to try to catch up in training for my first 100-miler in three weeks. Ok, it's probably screwed that up too, but at least I have a hope of getting round the course now, even with reduced fitness.

Back to Phoenix. It's a decent enough race and a big one too, with over 30,000 doing the half or full marathon, mainly the former. It also had Ryan Hall and Deena Kastor in the half, but I foolishly missed their talks at the expo.

I had run about 100 miles since early December, which was meant to be about the peak mileage for one week. It also included 31 of those miles at the Bad Ass 50k, which I shouldn't have done, in hindsight (a marathon may cure an injury but an off-road ultra seems to be a bad idea).

The day before the race and after doing no mileage for the previous week and a half, I tried a jog. It's been very frustrating doing just a run or two per week and finding that each time the injury hadn't faded. But this last jog felt a little better although I could still feel the injury beneath the surface.

On race morning I wanted to break three hours since that's over a minute a mile slower than race pace and I guessed I could still manage it. The most likely way to do this was with a positive split as the lack of miles would be bound to make the latter sections much harder than usual. So I went off faster and had to slow down after three miles when my heart rate started to escalate even at a pace which should have been fine. However, the knee didn't even have a twinge. Ideal start, it seemed.

I went through halfway in 1h23m and felt surprisingly good. My thighs were sore and felt like I'd run the whole way downhill, but that must have been just a lack of conditioning. Eating several protein recovery bars the day before may not have been ideal either, but I was hungry and couldn't wait an extra day. The whole time I was waiting for the knee to give way and for the rest of the day to be painful and slow as I walked in the last miles. Instead, I hit a bad wall at about 15 miles and couldn't see how things would improve. I wasn't fit enough to have confidence I could run through it and I didn't want to lose form and damage the knee. So I constantly kept recalculating potential finish times, based on slowing down to 8-min miles or whatever I thought might be sustainable. That three hour target stayed in my mind but I remember thinking that I'd be lucky to break 3h10m (from the point I was at, that would have been 9-min miles to the end).

All this uncertainty made me feel like a novice again. Negative thoughts kept pouring into my mind. "You won't keep up this pace...","You'll be overtaken by everyone you cockily jogged by earlier...","Can't you even finish a MARATHON, ultraboy?!" Not the most fun few miles I've run.

Then I turned a corner, not even the other side of the wall, but breaking a mental barrier. Another voice counter-acted every negative comment. I knew I could beat the fatigue and that I'd done it before. I may be out of shape, but experience counts for something and I just pushed on, speeding up at the same time. After a few miles I did finally come through the wall and now the race became a lot more exciting and fun for me. Instead of everyone around me overtaking as I slowed closer to 7-min mile pace, they were hitting the wall and I was cruising.

My legs were shot and felt worse than in any marathon for a long time, but I was able to start calculating how far below three hours I'd be. And the numbers kept getting lower until I started getting calls from the crowd that I wasn't trying hard enough as I looked too comfortable. I certainly didn't feel it in the legs, but my breathing and heart were relaxed so I could see what they meant. As my confidence grew, the crowds began to get thicker and lots of the runners started slowing, as usual towards the end of the race. I was on a high thanks to the fact my knee hadn't bothered me and that I'd pulled the race round from a disaster to a respectable and satisfying effort.

The first marathon of the year was a huge success. Funny to think that, given I was over 20 mins off what I'd set my sights on back in 2009, but 2h50m on the day and in the circumstances felt like more of a victory than a better time when fit. It reminded me of the satisfaction of completing Prague back in 2005, the longest run I'd ever done to that point. I felt like I'd really accomplished something even though I'd usually take it for granted for a marathon to go to plan.

For all those people on Sunday who were popping their marathon cherry, I'm sure most had similar feelings. At least this time I had no blisters or chaffing to deal with, so I didn't go for the fully authentic experience. Every race I've ever been too has a large percentage who get to achieve something they've never managed before, often something life changing. It's easy to forget that when the races can become almost routine. That's why variety in races is so very important...

...Now a quick tangent...I recently read about Chuck Engle who knocks out marathons between 2h31m and about 2h50m virtually every week. I was hugely impressed that he did 51 sub-three hour marathons in a year and that many were in the 2h30ms. Clearly he's a dedicated marathoner with hardly any injury problems. I even considered trying a sub-three every week for a year before I heard about what he'd done. But it just wouldn't be fun for me (I'm sure it is for him or he'd presumably stop) to do the same every weekend.

Phoenix was a dull course, but fast, so I don't mind a few like that to go for a time. But without races to really get my adrenaline pumping, I'd just give up on running. 2010 will amply satisfy that thanks to Rocky Raccoon 100, Eco Trail de Paris, Two Oceans, Boston, Comrades and Western States...and that's just the stuff I'm really looking forward to in the first half of the year. In fact, just listing those out makes me want to get out the door and run now (it's 11pm and raining).

Anyway, back to my original train of thought (rant). Trying something new is always more exciting, especially if you're not sure you can do it. Mr Adams certainly takes this philosophy to heart by doing the hardest races he can get his hands on, then making them that bit tougher by drinking too much. So I'm hoping that my leap into the world of 100s this year is equally as thrilling and fills me with trepidation. I'm pretty sure it will, but I know it'll be fun finding out.

Stupid injury but great 2009

Looks like I've been over-doing it as my right ITB band is playing up. At least all the major races went well in 2009 and I'm not having to miss anything (yet). I'm hoping a week off and massage will fix it but it's frustrating to not be running, especially in the run up to the Phoenix marathon in January and my first 100 at Rocky Raccoon in February. Any other recommendations to speed recovery from this?

Merry Christmas and I hope to be back on the trails soon and to try to enjoy time off. But all I see is a 2h30m marathon disappearing from the realms of possibility. Mind you, I probably needed a break anyway. Bring on 2010!

Musings on 100 marathons

Ever since I started running, back in 2005, I've had a focus on marathons and ultras. When I first entered the Marathon des Sables I expected it to be a hobby and just something to keep me fit. I even remember saying once that I thought I'd probably do around 10 marathons in my life and had no desire to do 100 and join the ranks of the 100 Marathon Club.

But after maybe six months of running I found that there's something extremely addictive about getting up at stupid o'clock on a weekend and running a very long way. Even more addictive to race against other people and test myself. And the most addictive element is the improvement and satisfaction from seeing progress month by month. It's also taken over much of my social life and I mainly spend free time (in Europe, at least) with runners, especially from my club, Serpentine.

So something which was intended to keep me fit and give me some new challenges has become so much more to me. I now can't imagine my life without running, although if something happened to stop me, I know I'd find the nearest equivalent, whether that's cycling/wheelchair marathons etc.

It didn't take long to work out that I would end up doing a lot of marathons and that I would, inevitably, join the 100 Club. It became even more obvious when I switched my focus to ultras early on, so marathons are necessary training runs.

This July I've had more cause than usual to consider my goals since I've had two significant events. Firstly, I completed my 99th marathon or ultra at the Tanners 30 miler at the start of the month. At the finish I felt a sense of relief that I'd be on target for my 100th at the Davos K78 ultra in the Swiss Alps at the end of the month. No dangers from DNFs screwing up my calendar or injuries making it impossible to fit in enough races.

My second event of the month to get my mind whirling was the knee injury I picked up after a 'football marathon', a 12-hour tournament for charity just two weeks before Davos. In hindsight it wasn't worth the risk, but I hardly ever play contact sports and wanted one last chance to playing football before moving to the US soon where a game of 'soccer' would be much harder to arrange. But I'd done it in two previous years and managed to avoid injury. This time a bad tackle caused a niggle and a kick near the end of the tournament started me limping.

The knee problem didn't phase me too much since I'm generally an optimistic type and all the running's made my body recover much quicker than it used to. I've had several races where I've finished and been certain I've injured something, rather than just pain from fatigue, but then been very pleasantly surprised to find that it cleared up within days and barely interrupted training.

This time I knew I had two weeks to heal and was pretty certain that the muscle behind the knee was damaged, rather than the ligaments or complicated mechanics within the knee. Muscles tend to heal quickly for me so it seemed like things should be fine. But the Davos race is a mountain race over unforgiving terrain. I managed to jog every day after the injury, but only very slowly and only on concrete or a treadmill.

It's now a week later and I managed to get back to racing yesterday, with a 10k followed by a 1k immediately afterwards. Not my best performances but the knee was solid and barely hurts even if I bend it oddly to test it. It needs to be perfect within another six days and I have a 1 mile and 3k race before then to confirm how it feels.

I'm confident it'll be ok, so that takes me back to my original thoughts about what completing 100 marathons means to me. Quite simply it means a lot and it means very little. The importance is because it's a good landmark to remind me of all the great experiences I've had over the past four years and the amazing places and people I've met. I didn't expect to see as much of the world as I have due to running, but I've immensely enjoyed the deserts, mountains, varied cities and trails. What better way to sight-see than to get entire cities covered in a day and with roads closed? Or spectacular (I'm finding I'm using that word a lot, especially to describe Davos to people) mountain views which can only be reached through long hikes or running trails? There are many places I wouldn't have gone to if there hadn't been a race as an excuse - I've even seen much more of the UK than in my pre-running days, covering many scenic corners and hidden gems.

The reason the mark of 100 marathons also means very little is that it is a means to and end, not an end in itself. I'm not hanging up my trainers after Davos, so it's just the start of a long running career. At 28 I'd hope I've got another 50 years of running in me (good genes from longevity in my grand-parents helps) so I know there's so much more to look forward to. My list of races I must do gets longer, rather than shorter, as I keep finding more events which catch my imagination.

Running inspires me and I hope I can take it to as high a level as possible, both in terms of pushing myself further and being able to enter/complete some of the hardest races out there. I'm genuinely excited by the thought of so many events out there and even impatient to do them all, even though there's no rush and they'll eat up a lot of cash over the years.

So here's my main must do list of races I know I HAVE to do, in no particular order. There are plenty of others and if I was restricted to just these I would struggle to get by and would get bored in my training. Happy to have any further suggestions for similar races as there's always a chance I haven't heard of something, even with all the Googling and picking of other ultra runners' brains.

Boston marathon, USA (every year - must do)
Comrades marathon, South Africa - 55 miles (ditto, but less local from the States)
Two Oceans marathon, South Africa - 35 miles (2010)
Western States 100, USA - 100 miles (every year I can get in)
Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc - 103 miles (2010 probably)
Marathon des Sables - multi-stage, 153 miles (maybe if I can justify the cost again)
PCT 50, USA - 50 miles (2010 then whenever I can)
Atacama Crossing, Chile - multi-stage, 150 miles (eventually)
Gobi Challenge, China - multi-stage, 150 miles (eventually)
Badwater, USA - 135 miles (2011)
Leadville 100, USA - 100 miles (eventually)
Hardrock 100, USA - 100 miles (eventually)
Great Wall of China marathon, China (eventually)
Inca Trail marathon, Peru (eventually)
Hood to Coast relay, USA (soon)
Lake Tahoe triple marathon, USA - 3x marathon (every year)
Goretex Trans Rockies, USA - multi-stage, 100 miles (eventually)
Other mountain marathons/ultras in the US
Plenty of other road marathons