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.

Bad Ass, Bad Knee, Bad Bonk, but still fun

Am trying to take advantage of the cool local races as much as possible and the Bad Ass 50k in the Badlands east of Bend is a great example. Not really a race, more of a fun run and in a place with a very cool name and with shorter options too plus it's the perfect start to the year. I imagined taming the west with gun-toting Clint Eastwoods, but I don't think any type of civilisation has ever been around the scenic hills and volcanic area of the Badlands. It's a hilly course using the cinder cone and a valley to give almost non-stop ups and downs.

So the course was tougher than would have been ideal for a come-back from injury. After weeks of my stupid right ITB band refusing to heal, I've done everything I can to fix it. Massage, lots of walking, leg weights and tennis balls to roll on on the floor. It had been ok to jog on for a few days so I didn't want to miss the chance to do the first long run since Fukuoka four weeks earlier.

The lack of snow or ice was surprising for Bend in January, but it was appreciated by the 60ish people turned up for one of the distances with maybe 10 for the 50k. Since it's a 3-lap course with a short out-and-back at the start, it's only by the last lap that it was down to the ultra runners. I had a lot of fun despite feeling very out of shape and bonking badly at 29 miles (my own fault due to trying to do the whole thing just with water and no calories in at all to improve my body's ability to run under only its own steam).

I ran up to 22 miles with local Sean Meissner, half the organising brains behind the race. He's also the guy who'd beaten me in the third day of the Tahoe triple marathon after slacking off this year and not doing the first two days. But I won't hold that against him since he sorted out a great race and did it all for free. Not a bad price considering the relatively high entry cost of races in the US compared to Europe. His chat kept me well occupied while I gradually faded through the run. But it was only after he stopped and I went out on the last lap that I deteriorated to one of the worst last couple of miles to a race I've had. It was made harder by the 800 ft climb and I managed a staggering (in both senses of the word) speed of about 2-3 mph.

Was a relief to finish and stuff my face to bring back a semblance of life to my body. Much later my knee started aching again so I'll just have to see how things go, but I've already written off trying to race the Phoenix marathon on the 17th Jan. Four weeks of little to no running and the injury not sorting itself out means expectations have to be revised, no matter how frustrating that is. There'll be other races and I've still got plenty of years left in me as long as I don't break myself. Just tough to be patient when I'm such a junkie for racing.

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!

Fukuoka marathon - Japanese seriousness

Gloves - every race should give you a funky free pair.

Ohori Park, where the B race starts.

Statue by the start line.

Land of the karate kid required some Daniel-san action.

Ran the Fukuoka marathon in Japan today and it's a great experience. But the first thing I found out this morning is that I have a place in the Western States 100 next year, so that occupied my mind until I got to the race start. My first 100 miler will be at Rocky Raccoon in February in Texas and it's a flat trail race. WS100 will take a whole different type of training, but hopefully the marathon speed will help a bit. The ultras should, although I've got nothing lined up nearly as hilly as WS100. But that's something to think about later, as today's focus was a good, old road race.

Just being here's a privilege as it's a male only race with a qualification time of 2h45m. Great concept and this race has some serious history to it - this is the 63rd year and recent winners have included Gebrselassie and Wanjiru. Olympic and World Championships bronze medallist, Tsegeye Kebede, won for the second year in a row with a course record of 2h05m18s (photo of me with him and 4th place Dereje Tesfaye below).

Was a bit worried about the cut-offs every 5k as these were 19m30s for each section and the combination of Seattle last weekend and being in the middle of my hardest training phase for racing the Phoneix marathon next month meant I wasn't as fresh as normal. But there was nothing to worry about and I really enjoyed the experience of being in a fast field.

It starts in Ohori Park for the B stream (2h27m-2h45m marathoners), a beautiful park in the cirty centre with a 2k loop round it. The faster guys start in the stadium where everyone finishes and do just under four laps before heading to the road then meeting up with the rest of the field. I'll definitely have to return for the experience of being in the A stream starters one day.

Although there aren't really any sights and it's just a road course through pretty average streets, the crowds are huge and loud for the 600-odd runners and it's a big TV event. The Japanese take their running very seriously and plenty of supporters had printed lists of the race numbers and names so I had my name called out a couple of times with weird pronounciations.

Being caught up in the vast numbers of fast guys (more sub 2h30m finishers than any other road marathon I can think of) meant I barely thought about the lack of scenery and I just enjoyed the atmosphere. My fiancée had suggested that since I do so many races in costumes, maybe running as Godzilla from the back of the pack would be fun. It would have made for a great photo caption, but I don't think the organisers would have let me start. An example of the over-the-top organisation is the race numbers which are in order of qualification times and we had to line up in rows of about eight people, exactly in number order for the start. I liked this quirkiness, but it's not really needed in a small field.

Finished the day with 2h39m19s after a bit of a slow down towards the end. Had aimed for 2h40m as it's a great training pace to help me improve, but it felt like a real effort for the last 10k (mind you, the first 32k was very comfy and enjoyable, much more so than normal). Oh, and there was no medal, but a small towel in the goody bag beforehand and a big one at the finish. The best gear they gave out was the funky Michael Jackson gloves, which I'll wear with pride through the winter.

That's the last race of the year, so I can look back at a successful year with improvements all round and 10 minutes off my marathon PB. Most importantly I've got so many memories to look back on and enjoyed almost every minute of every race. If I can keep doing that, then there's nothing more I could ask for.

Seattle marathon Elvis record attempt

Had a lot of fun at the Seattle marathon yesterday with Amy and some of her family. As I do a lot of road marathons it’s fun to mix up the races with different aims and challenges, especially since I did the race the previous year and knew the course. One that I usually like is to try to get as many different ‘minutes’ (like 2h59m, 2h58m, 2h57m etc) as possible for my finishes. I’ve got everything between 3h08m down to 2h45m plus several below. So I usually try to fill a gap whenever possible – 2h40m, 2h41m and 2h44m were all free so I wanted one of these, ideally.

However, the main focus was a slightly different target. I’ve run seven marathons in various costumes so far and broken a Guinness World Record in each case. Four different records, but some of them more than once – fastest Santa, fastest Elvis, fastest superhero (Spiderman) and fastest film character (Maximus from Gladiator). Since I broke them, only one hasn’t been re-broken (film character, 2h53m) and the records now stand at 2h55m for Santa, 2h49m for Elvis and 2h43m for a superhero (Robin from Batman).

So I decided it would make Seattle more interesting to get my record back for the fastest Elvis and to also run a new ‘minute’. It’s a great race and a beautiful city but it’s usually a bit wet and cold as well as having some nasty hills around 20 miles, but I wanted a good training run as well as a laugh.

It’s always funny walking down the street to a race when dressed up like an idiot and I had plenty of people wanting to stop and take a photo with me, even those who’d started the half marathon, but were clearly not in a hurry. And the odd looks you get when you’re at the front of the field at the start are also amusing. Nobody likes to get beaten by the fancy dress runner and I suspected I’d probably screw up a few people’s races by accident as they’d not want to have me ahead of them even if the pace was too fast.

In the end it worked out well and the level of support was great. It’s brilliant to have the spectators and other runners laugh and shout out Elvis quotes and impressions. And this course has plenty of sections where it doubles back and you run past the rest of the field, so I probably saw 80% of the field on the course.

In the end I didn’t quite hold on for 2h40m, but I’d done zero taper as this race was meant to be the weekly longer run. 2h42m and 6th was about as good as I could have expected and knocked a good seven minutes off the record. Shame I couldn’t maintain pace completely evenly and that I got a second 2h42m time, but I didn’t want to jog in the last couple of miles for 2h44m after putting in the work for the rest of the race (besides, the challenge for myself is to run races evenly rather than walking over the line to get a new ‘minute’). So hopefully it’ll be a bit harder for someone to take it away this time and I can have another crack sometime in 2010, maybe at Seattle again.

Some time I’ll get round to getting back the superhero record but 2h43m is a slightly tougher target and I’ll need to find a race where I wouldn’t be going for any particular time otherwise. Oh, and it’ll need to be cold as that Spidey costume is toasty, particularly the mask.

US Trail Marathon Champs at Ashland

Lithia Park.

The road home.

Finishing and glad about it.

Spot the great outfit on the right behind me.

That outfit again...

My support crew of Amy and the pups.

Another weekend, another marathon. I told myself I'd cut back when I moved to the US so I'd have some time to train when not exhausted. And that's still the plan but I couldn't miss the opportunity to go to the US Trail Marathon Championships at the Lithia Loop Trail Marathon - it is in Oregon and (just) driveable after all.

I'd heard from the guys who'd been 1st and 2nd the previous year and there was a helpful profile on the website so I knew it was a tough course with 3,700ft of climb which was almost all in the first eight miles. Then a flatter section and about eight miles downhill. In fact it was just the last six which went down noticably, but I only found that out later.

Sounded like a good challenge and I wanted to see how fast some of the best US guys are as well as some great scenery in a beautiful part of the country. The fact that the race director is Hal Koener (winner of the last two Western States 100 races) was also a draw.

On race day the weather was about as good as could be expected in November, above freezing with intermittent rain. 150 runners lined up, including Max King who leads coaching sessions in Bend and makes me ache every Tuesday evening. He'd run New York six days earlier and got 2:19 after keeping it to 5 minute miling for 20 miles, but was still the favourite.

I also bumped into Scott Dunlap, a prolific ultra blogger, who I'd met in the bus queue at the Boston marathon earlier that year. Even the US can feel small within the ultra community, but I wasn't quite on first name terms with everyone...yet (give me a few years on the scene and I'm sure I'll get to know the guys who turn up to everything).

So the course started on road and was gently uphill for a mile before hitting fire access roads into the mountains. I went off in 6th behind the lead group but my legs felt tired within quarter of a mile and I slowed down. I later found out that my heart rate monitor peaked at 238 with an average of 201 for that first mile before dropping down to an average of well under 160 for the rest of the race. So either my heart exploded or the HRM wasn't fitted quite right for a mile. My previous highest is 184 in the sprint off at the end of a mile race, so it's a tad unlikely I could raise my beats by 50/minute.

Over the next few miles I dropped back into 20th and felt like I'd need a walking break after less than three miles. Not a good sign, but I felt fatigued from the marathon PB and surprisingly hard effort in the half the weekend before. Or maybe it's just because of trying too hard at the start, but it didn't feel like my heart was working excessively near the start.

The trail kept going up relentlessly and I got a drink at the aid station at mile five, to give me a mini walking break. The trails were enclosed by fir trees the whole way and it made for a good atmosphere with the mist which started to feature as I got closer to the highest point of around 4,900ft.

It wasn't a technical trail although there were some sections of single track. Lots of fun to run on downhill, but I found the uphills a real effort so need to get some hill training in over the next few months...especially if I get a place in the Western States 100 from the lottery in December.

The top section was undulating but at least it was possible to run properly on it rather than a slow jog on the way up. I knew that it would be a really bad run if I didn't do a big negative split, given the profile, but I wasn't sure how much time I'd gain back in the second half. My Garmin went in and out of reception with the trees but it was clear that the mile markers were a bit short, so I went through halfway in about 1h41m but it was certainly short by a couple of minutes. There was some light rain and more mist along the middle section of the race but I was wearing a couple of layers, a hat and gloves so was snug.

I'd barely seen anyone since about mile 4, but had overtaken a handful of people. I was cruising nicely along the top section at close to normal marathon pace but I couldn't wait for the downhill as there was almost 3,000ft to drop and not a long distance to do it in.

As I went past 18 miles I expected to see the slope going down but it still stayed at almost the peak altitude. Only after a water station just after the 20 mile marker (still about the same amount short as at 13 miles, so those middle miles were marked right) did the trail head down. There was a left turn going steeply downhill, reminding me slightly of the latter days of the Trans Alpine race. It looked very cool as the mist covered the trail so I ran straight into a spooky-looking section.

I'd passed a few more people and was hoping to at least get into the top 10 by the end after getting to around 13th before the downhill. I felt strong so was able to really let myself go and fly downhill. I'm always much happier going downhill so I expected to have a fun second half to the race and to catch up a few positions.

I only saw about two more mile markers but had an idea of where I was from my Garmin. I knocked out a 5-minute mile before getting to the one remaining uphill section, for just a half mile. In true McDonald's style I was definitely lovin' it (sorry for the bad pun) and kept approaching guys ahead of me and catching them almost immediately after seeing them in the distance.

Having not seen a mile marker since about number 22 I couldn't be certain where I was but I'd left myself about 26 minutes to do the last 4.2 miles and was going well below 6-minute mile pace, so I expected to be comfortably below three hours. However, when I got to the turn back on to the asphalt road from the start for the last mile and a bit, I knew that the last 4.2 miles would be around half a mile long. That made it a real issue to break three hours and was a bit demoralising after being so certain I was comfortably below that time.

Within that last mile I saw one more runner ahead but he had 200m on me and I didn't think I had a chance of catching him. But I was trying so hard to get that finish time have a two at the start that I knocked out a 4:58 last mile according to GPS (with the help of a little downhill) and ended up 14 seconds ahead of that runner, but just over the target in 3h00m36s. It was slightly long in total which wouldn't normally be an issue for a trail race, but those mile markers had really screwed with my mental calculations.

The first eight miles hadn't been fun for me but the remainder was a great training run with a lot of hard-pushed miles. I squeezed into the top 10 with 8th place, which wouldn't have been a success in my mind prior to the race, but after feeling the tiredness in my legs it was really satisfying. And, allowing for the mile markers being slightly out, I got the most negative splits I've ever run - 1:43 and 1:17.

A really challenging course and some great performances from guys from all over the US. Max King did indeed win, in 2h40m (a course record). Pretty scenery too, although the mist and light rain meant I couldn't see as far over the forests as on a clear day.

Next race is the Seattle marathon at the end of November and I've decided to run as Elvis to get back the silly Guinness World Record for fastest Elvis. Someone recently took the 'title' away from me with a 2h49m run so I think it'd be fun to get it down to about 2h40m. Hopefully that'll be a tough one to beat, although I'd had it for two years with 2h52m. I might even run as Spiderman again within the next year or so to get back the fastest superhero record which was snatched away a few months ago with a 2h43m run...ok, I know they're both weird records but it adds some funky variety to the road marathons. Not every road marathon can be a PB attempt so these records add a fun challenge and the crowds go wild for it. I'd recommend it to anyone, but not to guys who are faster than me :)

Halloween running around Bend in a half

Halloween had the Run Like Hell Bend half marathon. Plenty of costumes, especially in the 5k. But I opted for the longer race and had a tough day running into the wind around Aubrey Butte, a volcanic hill in west Bend. Nice big hill to climb from about 4-9.5 miles, which wouldn't seem like much if it wasn't for the fact it's a road half and the pace is fast - only about a 400ft climb.

I wanted to lower my half marathon PB after almost beating it in the marathon last weekend (75:46 to beat) but the tired legs and wind defeated that aim. Still happy to have seen some new parts on the edge of town and had a good tempo run in 1h17m with 3rd place. And I felt comfy at faster paces than normal, excluding the middle miles with wind and uphill, so a good day, all in all.

Then there was a mini party at Deschutes Brewery, where the race HQ was. 2 free beers and some food and other drink. But as I had to drive home I just chatted to a few people and enjoyed an opener to some Halloween fun for that evening. I'd considered running in fancy dress but wanted to save my costume for the evening - Spider Elvis...

Tri Cities Marathon goes like a dream

Just a quickie here as I've just run the Tri Cities marathon in Washington State and would recommend it to anyone who wants a good time, perhaps for a Boston qualifier etc. I've not seen many faster courses, except Berlin, Amsterdam and a couple of other flat-as-a-pancake courses. The four bridges aren't too high so barely hurt your time.

I was helped along by my in-laws to be, Laurel and Clint, as well as Amy. Clint is a very good cyclist although he doesn't compete much these days, so he decided to cycle the course with me. Not something you can do in the big marathons, but as this had under 300 marathoners plus the relay, there was plenty of space, especially as he joined after half a mile when the field had spread and I was just running with one other guy, who was in the relay.

I'm ecstatic as I went for a personal best and got it. Had hoped to scrape under 2h35m and shave off a bit from my Reykjavik time in August (2h36m59s). But it went like a dream and I somehow led from start to finish to get 2h32m40s. Am still on a massive high as I basically got my half marathon PB back-to-back. This Bend air seems to be working for me.

So now I have 10 months until my wedding of hard training to see what I can pull off. Apart from trying to break 2h30m in Phoenix, Arizona, in January, the other two major efforts will go into Comrades double marathon in May (if I can get there given visa issues in the US) and the Western States 100 in June (if I get a ballot place with approximately a 1 in 7 chance by my calculations).

It's looking like a fun year of running and I'm genuinely excited about every race I go to, even if I'm just running it as a long training jog. Running gives so much, although it does take a lot of time and effort to get in shape for race day. I know I'll meet more great people on the trails, roads and wherever else I manage to fit in a race or run.

Finally, well done to the UK runners doing a combination of one, two or three of the marathons over this extended weekend - Beachy Head (Sat), Greensands (Sun and an inaugral event that went down well) and Dublin (Mon).

Oregonian running - about time too!

After trying to move to the US for a very long time to be with my fiancée, Amy, I finally arrived (on a tourist visa for now, anyway) in September. But I didn't get to my home in Bend, Oregon, until later, after several races and visiting several States.

It's just been voted as the best place to run trails in Outdoor magazine, so should be a perfect place for trail running. Excellent - just the sort of news I wanted just before I arrived, although I already know just how beautiful it is. Snow-capped mountains, forests and great views almost anywhere, even in downtown.

So after a visit to some of Amy's family in Portland and the marathon there (see photo with large crowds of runners on a road, above), I arrived in Bend just in time to join the running community in a local half marathon...on trails, of course.

The Dirty 2nd Half is the sequel to the Dirty Half in June each year. As it was the first year for this 2nd Half, people weren't quite sure what the trail would be like, but the times from the June race included some sub 6-minute milers over the trails.

It was a little out of town at the Seventh Mountain resort and started early on a Sunday in October. After really hot weather for the weeks before, it had cooled down to winter-like temperatures. Well, English winter (a fair bit below freezing).

I only did a short warm up due to the cold then lined up with about 300 others on the trail. All we could see were trees, but the race director told us there would be a climb from about 3 miles and that it's generally a hard course to run fast on, but not too technical apart from a few sections.

Sounded ideal to me, although I'd trained hard during the week to get ready for a marathon at the end of the month. I'd hoped to place well, but Bend has a reputation for having a lot of top class trail and ultra runners so I had no idea of who would turn up (or what they look like). Although I had met one guy, Max King, a top American trail and distance runner (63 minutes in the half marathon certainly impresses me).

Everyone clearly gave Max the nod as the obvious winner and he showed it within 100m by sprinting after the lead mountain bike at about my sprint speed. For the rest of us, there was just open trail ahead as we lost sight of Max after about a mile (he slowed down to a more reasonable 5min/mile pace).

The trails were beautiful, but with my body parts freezing I was focusing on keeping up enough speed to get my internal boilers going. After a few miles I felt cosy, but was also tired. I was just behind 2nd and 3rd and the trail started a steepish uphill climb at the 3 mile mark, just as advertised. The ground wasn't icy, but I slowed down so much I wasn't in much danger of slipping on anything.

We mainly followed a mountain access path but the hill kept on for several miles and went from about 4,000ft to 4,750ft (it's so useful to have the Garmin to tell me how much drop I'd have until the finish). I felt bad and was overtaken by several people, just wanting the climb to stop since my legs weren't fresh enough.

It eventually levelled out at a water station at 7 miles, then went on to a single track path. This was more my sort of thing - varying degrees of downhill on more technical terrain. I started enjoying myself again as the path wound left and right, sometimes ducking under branches.

This kept going for most of the rest of the race, but with a few harsh uphills thrown in. It felt great to be in the wilderness with some slight danger of bears, cougars and the like...but not much danger. I'd done trail marathons in the UK but never a trail half and never in such a pretty forest. In fact, all the trail marathons had only involved sections of forest since we don't have as much of it in England. And since I'd never done a shorter trail race I'd never tried to run really hard on the trails and push the speed up.

It was a mental boost to go at about 5k pace on the trails, even if they were downhill. But the last 3 miles or so were back on the flatish/undulating section, overlapping part of the first 3 miles. I could see 2nd and 3rd again after a long absence from them. But I managed to follow 3rd down the wrong way and add on a quarter of a mile before we both turned back. The guys behind had caught up and 2nd was nowhere to be seen. I didn't care that much since I'd had a fun race and the second half had made up for the pain of the first half. I made one last effort to get into 3rd and managed to hold it to the finish.

1h26m was slower than I'd expected but until mile 7 I was on for my personal worst half marathon time. Max managed 1h14m and won by 10 minutes. But at least it gives the rest of us something to aim for...

A really enjoyable start to living and running in Bend and the organisation was great from the local running shop. I'm really looking forward to more races around here and to meeting a whole new set of runners.

Next race is the Tri Cities marathon in Washington State, where Amy's Mom lives. A completely different type of race, it's a dead flat road race. But having that variety is what makes running so interesting and challenging to me. I wouldn't give up any one type of surface or race and am looking forward to including 100 milers in my regular set of races, almost twice as far as anything I've done before.