Two marathons, three days - SLC/Boston

Start of the SLC marathon

View from the Prudential building in Boston at sunset

The 5k race using the Boston marathon finish

Looking strong a whole mile into Boston

The leaders at Boston - Hall and Meb lead the US charge

Still looking ok in Boston with my Fukuoka gloves on show

This last weekend could have gone badly. I'd run ultras or multidays for five consecutive weekends (including a very cool 60k of trails last weekend as I swept the course for the local Peterson Ridge Rumble course in Sisters, OR). I had the Salt Lake City marathon on Saturday then the Boston marathon on Monday. I booked it a long time ago before the preceding ultras with the intention of using it as a fitness test for Comrades. If I could run both under 2h45m then I'd feel that I could run Comrades at 2h50m marathon pace (i.e. sub six hours). It also has the benefit of being 'speed' work compared to the ultras.

However, being injured for almost two months meant I'd lost some speed even though the endurance seemed fine after the last few weeks. I really had no idea how it would go and wasn't even sure I could knock out one marathon at 2h45m (6m18s/mile), especially since SLC is at slight altitude (between 4,200ft and 4,800ft) and hilly.

I arrived in SLC on the Friday, went to the small expo and got an early night. I still felt sore from sweeping the previous week. Even though it was very slow being at the back of the race, bending down to pick up all the course markings had left me aching in new places.

The race had a an early start at 7am so the sun had only just risen over the university start-line when I warmed up. The athletes didn't seem too keen to push to the front so I knew there wouldn't be too many speedsters there. It also had a half marathon at the same time so most runners had bibs for that race, with around 1,000 in the full marathon. I started comfortably and decided to use my heart rate monitor to stop myself trying too hard, given the need to conserve some energy for Boston. However, after the first couple of downhill miles I felt like it would be a hard day.

The course isn't particularly pretty if you keep your head down, but when you look up you get great views of the surrounding mountains, which are very close. The first half had some nasty climbs, not that they were too steep, but some lasted a couple of miles and the combination of tired legs and altitude meant my heart rate was soon higher than it should be for a marathon. For me that means into the mid 160s. It was going to be a tough race.

The marathon added a loop around a park at five miles so the extra mile meant I started running through slower half marathoners when we joined them again. Then after under seven miles they headed off on a short-cut to the finish while the marathon went south to get in the extra miles. It got a lot lonelier from this point and a spectator shouted that I was in 10th.

I chatted to a couple of marathoners on the flatter sections but then pushed on to half way uphill knowing that there would be a gentle downhill soon after 13 miles. I was demoralised to hit halfway in 1h22m55s, just outside 2h45m pace. This was the first 13 miles of two marathons, so I basically accepted that I wouldn't be getting the times I wanted in the two races. How could I, when I'd run reasonably hard and still couldn't stay on pace?

My mindset quickly changed as I knocked out several faster miles over the downhill then flat and I was back on the average pace I needed. The second half was easier than the first, being much flatter. I constantly did calculations in my head, thinking that sub 2h50m was guaranteed and that if I could just keep close to the required 6m18s/miles then a fast last mile might get me there under my time.

I spent the rest of the race catching people and worked out I was in 4th, but that relied on the guy earlier correctly telling me my position and I find most people get it wrong, counting the wrong people (say, half runners) or just miscounting. I was on for 2h46m at worst with only a couple of miles to go, but was now weaving through the half runners/walkers who had joined the marathon course again, just 13 miles behind. Although I'd checked out the course profile, I hadn't noticed the 200ft hill in the 25th mile. This put me off pace again, but was a relief when I got to the top. It had heated up to almost 70 degrees F so I wanted to get off the course before the temperature sapped more energy.

I was tired and looking forward to the end, but at least there were great crowds now to pep me up. As the majority of people they were seeing were half marathon walkers, each marathoner got a loud cheer for running. At about a half mile to go I heard the thump of runner's steps behind me. I looked back to see a guy in a tri-suit flying up to me and my head snapped into (totally unnecessary) race mode and I flew off at a sprint, dropping down to under 5m/mile pace. He stuck behind me but as I went up the final straight I couldn't see him behind so knew I'd kept my position. In hindsight, this was completely pointless and potentially could ruin my Boston run. But I just don't like being overtaken and it's only happened in marathons where I've blown up and walked (luckily only about three times when I was learning how to do marathons).

Somehow I'd almost got back to my goal pace, but it was painful to run up to the finish and see the clock tick from 2h44m to 2h45m. The final time was 2h45m04s and I was indeed in 4th, so had positives and negatives to take away from the race. On the plus side, I'd basically hit the time I wanted, seen great mountain views, was uninjured, ran my fastest marathon with a backpack and had run a negative split. However, it had felt hard and I'd tired myself out way too much. I reassessed my chances of running a good Boston to being very low.

No time to rest, since I had a couple of hours until my indirect flights to Boston, so I squeezed in a quick shower then went to the airport where I spent a while stretching and with my legs up against a wall for recovery. The flights were on time and didn't feel too bad on the legs.

In Boston I got in late at night, just wanting a good rest. Sunday is fun due to the expo and short distance races each year, but it was also cold and raining constantly. A real contrast with the sunny weather in SLC. I watched Josh Cox win the 5k and the commentators mentioned he's training for Comrades. That means both the US 50k/100k champion, Michael Wardian, and the US 50k record holder, Josh Cox, would be running in South Africa. Always good to have more people to meet over there and they're both very accomplished pro/semi-pro athletes.

I'd hoped to meet up with a bunch of Serpies from London but the previous few days had involved numerous emails and ended with the conclusion that the Icelandic volcano had stopped all flights from London. None of my friends would make it. This was a shame, but at least Boston is such a fun race and all the runners and city get really into it. I'd picked the hostel near the finish on purpose because I knew I'd meet many, many runners there.

There were a few Americans who had lived in London and been a member of Serpentine RC, but I didn't know them already. I agreed to see the Red Sox baseball game on Sunday afternoon with them, so picked up my ticket by meeting them at the expo. The expo is great and I spent a long time there getting enough free food and drink to constitute a meal. I also bought a pair of Zoot compression tights as I needed a pair anyway, but particularly needed some help to be recovered for the next day. I've never used them before, but many people swear by the powers of compression tights, so I wanted to see if it would work.

The Red Sox game was a wet affair and not very entertaining with the locals losing badly, especially since the US Serpies told me when I got there that they'd decided to sell their tickets due to the weather. I've not been to a baseball game before and can't see me going again. It's just not that interesting. Now, I like cricket and people say the same thing, but I'll happily watch a five-day test match and it's just different, ok?.

Anyway, that evening the pasta party was excellent, as always. Plenty to eat and I went with some new-found friends from the hostel. That's one of my favourite things about the race - the openness of everybody there to meet new people. It really got the mood going for the race and I started to feel excited while chatting to people about how many times they'd run Boston before, where they qualified and all the interesting stories they had to tell. People who started late in life and spent years trying to get a place in Boston or those who come every year for the party atmosphere. Suddenly my confidence was back and I was thinking of going for 2h45m again.

Race morning started very early and I hadn't really adjusted from west coast time. But my legs felt almost normal, so I'm now a huge fan of the recovery tights. As with last year, I chatted to people while waiting for the buses at around 6:15am. Once again I met west coast ultra runner on the bus (Abi Stephens, who'd run the Rumble the previous weekend) and chatted for much of the time prior to the race start at 10am. Things seemed to be smoother than the previous year, not that I'd had any complaints. The bus wait was less, the toilet lines were shorter at the start and the weather was looking much better than expected with not a cloud in sight.

I just missed seeing the elite women's start at 9:32am but was raring to go at 10am when the first wave started. This time I made sure I didn't go off too quickly, as I'd done last year on the early downhills. I wanted to see if I could run just ahead of 2h45m pace given that the second half is harder with the famous Newton Hills. I just hoped to hang on as long as possible.

The crowds were great from the start and within a mile I'd been offered a beer. Next year I think I'll take them up on their offers and do it as more of a fun run. But this year I still had a target and it was increasingly easy to stay around a six min/mile pace, which kept surprising me every time I looked at my splits. Running past the Wellesley College girls at halfway was the usual soundblast and made everyone grin. I didn't see anyone stopping as they were all too focused on their running, but some did high fives. Still the best support I've ever seen, as ever, and something you hear well before you see.

Halfway was a decent 1h19m06s so I could afford to slow down a lot on the hills. Since they don't start until after 16 miles I decided to keep going as before until that far and bag a bit more time. The crowds were full of students, many with a few beers in them, so the cheering got rowdier every mile.

I remember that last year I'd been slowing down from five miles in and really struggled over the rest of the course, feeling bad for most of it but scraping through for 2h47m. I also remembered that the hills seemed small even as they slowed me right down. This year was different and I was trying to run in a group to avoid the light headwinds which kept popping up, but I found that each group kept slowing so I just kept pushing on and wondering when the tiredness would catch up with me.

By now I was enjoying myself thoroughly. I'd been waiting the whole time for my legs to fade but they were being very kind to me and even let me run up the hills at about the same pace as on the flat. The college kids certainly liked seeing someone running through the field on the hills so I had plenty of cries out for 'Serpentine', most even pronouncing it correctly.

Heartbreak Hill was more like a victory lap, although at 21 miles it wasn't a foregone conclusion, although 2h40m looked possible now. Somehow the best was still ahead for me. The last five miles are mainly down and flat but some people have tired their thighs so much that it's difficult to run them fast. However, I went into some new-found zone from this point which I've never reached before. I haven't done more than a couple of speed sessions in 2010 so even a six minute mile feels quick, but I started running quicker than that. As the supporters got thicker on the sidelines I was having the most enjoyable race in a long time (and I've had a lot of good ones recently).

As I looked at my watch I was amazed to see 5:40s for the miles and my aims shifted from 2h40m to see if I could break six minute miling (2h37m) for only the third time, something I didn't think I could have done if I'd tapered for this race and gone all out. I was going faster than marathon pace and finding it easy, even with a headwind for most of the last part. This is how running should always feel - hard but very sustainable. I wished the course was a 50k as I could comfortably have kept up the pace and smashed my best for that distance.

All good things come to an end and I got to the finish well before I'd planned, in 2h36m51s, good enough for 151st. The most important thing was that I'd hugely enjoyed it and also felt strong at the end, so this was a perfect milestone for Comrades. All my worries in advance had evaporated, about a lack of speed, sore legs and not being in shape for a good Comrades.

Thank you Boston for hosting a great race and creating such an incredible atmosphere the whole way through. I confirmed to myself that Boston far surpasses the other 70-ish road marathons I've done around the world. There's something about having hills in a race that means you have to use tactics much more and so when you nail it, it's more satisfying.

I'll be back next year to have fun on the streets of Boston again and it'd be nice to get a streak going until I can no longer run...maybe around 2099. I don't think I was the only one to have that much fun either, as even those who didn't hit their target time still loved everything else about the race. The elites put on a great show too, with a new men's course record in 2h05m52s (on Boston's course!) for Robert K Cheruiyot...but not the one who won Boston four times...a 21-year old with the same name, except the middle name, who has just made himself into a legend. The women's race went down to the wire too and was great to watch on TV, with Ethiopian Yeyba Erkesso of Ethiopia making a name for herself by just edging young Russian Tatyana Pushkareva - watch out for both of them in future too.

SLC could have been a disaster but ended up just about working out. But Boston went better. Why? Well, I think it's just one of those things where the science says one thing but reality turned out differently and can't quite be explained. Mind you, it probably helped to not wear the backpack and use my racing flats (Asics Hyperspeed 3s). I think it just shows that the human body can always do more than you expect, a useful thing to bear in mind during every ultra.

Two Oceans (Ultra) Marathon Easter Weekend

View from Chapman's Peak around 32km (I think)

Noordhoek beach, just before running up Chapman's Peak

The 18km trail run

Finishing the 18km trail run with Dave Pearse

Great views on Table Mt with Helen, Gwen and Dave in the trail run

More trail run shots

Trail running again

The finish line of the trail and ultra runs

La Med bar with sunset reddening Table Mt

Often windy in Cape Town

Expo fun with too many free hair products

There are many, many races on my ‘must-do’ list, but one which I’d been particularly looking forward to since I first heard about it is the Two Oceans Marathon in Cape Town, South Africa. As is clear from previous postings about Comrades, I’m a big fan of the venerable and huge Saffer races and Two Oceans has a great history of 40 years (this year was number 41 and one guy was racking up his 40th finish). It isn’t quite as big as Comrades but still had over 8,000 ultra runners, plus around 10,000 running the relatively new half marathon course instead.

As with Comrades, the race has different medals for different times, giving a huge incentive for runners to speed up if they’re close to a medal cut-off. These cut-offs are at each hour from four hours to the final cut at seven hours – four hours is a silver medal, five is a Sainsbury medal (named after a previous winner), six is bronze and seven is blue. The top 10 men and women get gold medals, just as with Comrades. But since the race is a fair bit shorter, at 56km (35 miles) instead of 89km (55.5 miles), it’s not nearly so taxing on the body.

Another big similarity is the named, famous hills in the race. In this case it’s just two major hills, peaking at 34km (Chapman’s Peak) and 46km (Constantia Nek), but they are enough to slow you down considerably and to throw off your pacing for a particular medal. The generally acknowledged wisdom is that you need to be ahead of your desired pace at half way to allow for fatigue and the final hill.

There are only a few things I knew about the race in advance, but these were enough to excite me. Firstly, the Comrades-esque style of the race with medals, hills etc and that the silver medal is a lot harder to achieve than at Comrades. Secondly, that it’s a stunningly beautiful course. And thirdly, that it runs along the coastline of the Indian and Atlantic Oceans, which give it the name. However, it seems the actual meeting point on the coast is really Cape Agulhas, which is further east, so the eastern side is technically still the Atlantic. But that’s like fussing over the magnetic or true poles and doesn’t alter how special the race is.

When I arrived in Cape Town I have to admit I didn’t know much about the city either, except that Table Mountain is in the middle of the city. I didn’t realise just how beautiful the entire city is, especially when viewed from the Mountain or from Lion’s Head peak to the north-west. I was staying with my friend, Dave Pearse, again after having enjoyed his hospitality in Durban for the previous two Comrades. It was helpful to have a local to show me around and to appreciate the great lifestyle that the locals live, thanks to their incredible location.

As well as enjoying the area’s restaurants, bars and general scenery, I’d agreed to do the 18km trail race on Good Friday, which uses Table Mountain to great effect. The month of March had been one of high mileage and a lot of tough races for me so I came to Two Oceans with the aim of just enjoying myself and not facing much racing pressure (although I wanted a silver medal still for sub four hours). The trail race the day before the main event fitted in with this philosophy and led to some jaw-dropping views in the early morning sun.

I took it easy with Durbanites Helen Lucre and Dave as well as one of their Capetonian friends, Gwen van Lingen. We took almost three hours to get round the course, partly due to starting far back and being in single file through the narrow trails, but this easier pace certainly suited me. It wasn’t quite as relaxing for Gwen (and maybe Helen too) given she’s a former Olympian and captain of the South African women’s Olympic team (Helen is a mere triple winner of Comrades...). Both ladies have also won Two Oceans, in impressive times of 3h41m (Gwen) and 3h49m (Helen...note that time for later on). One thing you certainly notice quickly is that Saffers don’t take any crap and always say what they think. I’m sure lots of people are offended but it’s fun to get away from the overly-PC western world sometimes. Mind you, the way I’ve just worded that was very inoffensive, while I could have put it more rudely. It was certainly a pleasure to run with the three of them and it’s always inspiring to talk to athletes who’ve got to a top level.

The trail run was a massive photo shoot for me and I couldn’t stop taking photos given the views. It really got me in the mood for the main race, although the 6:25am start wasn’t quite as appealing. At least it’s almost an hour later than Comrades starts and is also 25 minutes after the gun goes for the half marathoners.

The start feels very much like Comrades as it’s pre-dawn and there are so many people around, with seeding pens too. A sub three-hour marathon gets into the first pen, ‘A’, and it felt relaxed as there was more space in it than I’m used to. Even though only gun times exist in order to make the cut-offs for medals exact, Championchips are used to give accurate and efficient timing. So in the few minutes before the race started, the ‘B’ pen athletes are allowed to move forward and quickly push right up. The start was delayed five minutes to allow the half marathoners to clear the part of the ultra course they use. Mining songs and the national anthem are played, but it doesn’t feel quite as magical as Comrades. Very close, but the best way to describe it all is like a ‘Mini-Me’ version of Comrades – less people, shorter and less intimidating. That’s partly due to the race being used as training for Comrades for many runners and also that it’s newer and has fewer runners. But don’t get me wrong, it’s still got a great atmosphere and blows away any normal city marathon except Boston. It also has better scenery than Comrades, although the first 16km is fairly average as you run to the first coastline.

When the gun finally went off, it had started drizzling but this soon stopped and it was refreshing in the surprising morning warmth. The start was even more like a stampede than Comrades. Runners with ‘B’ and ‘C’ seedings zoomed off into the distance as if it was a 10k race. I managed to resist the temptation to go too fast and stuck around my target pace of just over four-minute kms. The huge crowd of runners made the first kms fly by and this was the first time I used my heart rate monitor to stop me from exerting myself too hard. I wanted to stay well under my normal marathon heart rate so that it would all feel comfortable, even at the end. One day I’d like to race it all out, but 2010 was not the year I wanted to try it as other races are taking precedence.

The sun was up by the 10k marker and the course turned left after about 14ks and into a headwind. Cape Town hadn’t shown me much of its famous windiness up to this point and race day was really quite still, but the days afterwards showed just how blustery it can be and that could really upset your race strategy.

We soon hit the coast and had a pleasant run with great Ocean views. I’d run past a couple of groups of runners around the further back female gold medallists (called ‘buses’ in South Africa) and kept wanting to just sit on a bus but felt fine going faster so didn’t hang around with any of them long. For the first half marathon it’s almost completely flat and many people go much too fast as a result, trying to ‘bag’ a few minutes for the hills. I went through in 1h25m which seemed reasonable as it was only slightly above silver medal pace of 1h30m.

Things start to get more interesting from halfway at 28km as the first proper hill starts there. It climbs for about 2ks to Little Chappies, and then dips before ascending more steeply to 34km along the Chapman’s Peak scenic drive route. And it certainly is beautiful. Too many runners stuck to the inside to get a racing line but I made sure I was on the outside of the road so I could get a better view over the short wall by the cliff edge. Music dotted the route, either live or through speakers, and this helped boost the runners well. Many had started slowing much earlier and some were even walking this hill. The fact I was going strong gave me some confidence and also allowed me to fully take in the surroundings, which is something I often can’t fully appreciate when racing hard.

From 34km to the marathon mark was mainly downhill and fast. I’d been warned that going too hard is dangerous here as it tires the legs too much for later, but I just cruised down and was still able to gain a few minutes. There are more supporters around the 42.2km timing mat and the road is surrounded by trees and Cape Town’s specific brand of mountains. It would be a shame for anyone to not take these in, but by this point a lot of people were flagging. Supposedly there are a lot of marathon PBs as splits in the Two Oceans race, which sounds ridiculous, but the hill isn’t too high and having a downhill for the last 8ks of a marathon helps to negate the fatigue which can slow people down at that point.

The marathon mark also signals the start of the hardest part of the race, the steepest and biggest hill up Constantia Nek. It rises from sea level to around 220m (700ft) mainly over the 2.5ks to 46.5km. Most people were walking or jogging very slowly here, as would be expected. But because I had kept my effort level (and heart rate) down I had a good run up and got a lot of crowd support as a result. The hill never seems to end, but by this point in the race there are water tables every km, which means you barely go past one before you see the next. Most have water, Powerade and Coke, but a few have food. I’d done my homework and knew there was chocolate at the 46km table so looked forward to a reward for climbing the hill. I’d used up the two gels I’d decided to bring at 30km and 40km so the chocolate was my plan to get me in to the finish, which I expected to be 10ks of almost all downhill.

However, just a few minutes after peaking, the course heads up yet again in a hill I didn’t expect. That takes the runners to 50km before a few kms of steeper downhill, with a nasty camber. I went through the 50k split in 3h25m, which was a PB, but I’ve only ever done one 50k and it was a training run to pace for three-hour marathon pace, so if I didn’t beat it I’d have little chance of getting that silver.

Up to this point I’d felt much better than usual for a road race and it was good to feel like I could easily keep the pace up for longer than the required 56km. I’m almost tempted to do this more often, but I do already – most of my marathons are off pace, they just aren’t as pretty as around Cape Town. I’d highly recommend taking this course a little easy, since you need more energy for the later hills and it just makes the experience much more enjoyable. Once in a while, anyway.

I didn’t like the camber between 50km and about 53km, so tried running in the gutter so that my knees wouldn’t be strained. Then I saw the fourth placed woman ahead so sped up to catch her. Next was the third place lady, who was going a little faster. I checked my watch and saw that if I could go faster for the last 3km then I’d probably sneak in under Helen’s PB of 3h49m and that was more than enough incentive. As banter goes, saying that I sped up to beat her time was the ideal thing to do for the pub later (it’s a South African thing). I went for a big kick to the end and flew past the third lady and her bike camera crew (the whole race is on national television and she was the next gold medallist due to finish).

I’d sped up to around marathon pace and was overtaking a lot of people, even though they were very spaced out. It felt amazing to have so much energy left at the end, but the slight undulations did make it hard to sustain. The last 400m is on bumpy grass and that also made it energy-sapping to keep up, but when you can see the finish and the crowd’s cheering, the adrenaline comes to the fore. I finished in 3h48m14s with a negative split for the race. I’d expected to lose some time on the uphills, but the downhills had more than made up for it.

As I crossed the line I realised how much the silver medal meant to me. I’d been blasé about it in advance, but if I’d missed out I would have been dismayed and would have questioned my fitness. I didn’t need the sprint finish and it went against my plan to be conservative so that the previous month’s work wouldn’t be spoiled by a stupid muscle pull or overuse injury, but luckily I got away with it and the training benefit should help with Comrades.

I went to the tent by the finish for international runners and watched my local friends finish over the rest of the morning, as well as two other Londoners I knew, Angus Searcy and Cleo Oliver. All had a lot of fun and we foreigners enjoyed our first Two Oceans marathon. I’ll be back for this one, but it’s so far from the US that it may not be very often. A trip to Cape Town is an excellent holiday and I can’t think of a better race to add in while there (although they do have a few good ones in and around the city). There was only one thing left to do post-race, and that was to enjoy a few beers in the sun.

Jurassic Coast Challenge Triple Marathon Mar 2010

Yesterday I got back from yet another great race. Maybe I've become better at discerning what's likely to be worth doing, but it's been a while since I went to a race which didn't live up to expectations. The Jurassic Coast was as fun as I hoped. It's a 3-day trail triple marathon along the spectacular Jurassic coastline in Dorset, organised by VOTwo (VO2) and is a brilliantly challenging and fun event.

I've only done one of their previous races, the Atlantic Coast Challenge - the same idea but along the north Cornwall coast to Land's End (the most westerly point of England). It was a great triple and we happened to have perfect weather to support the great coastal scenery and undulating running. The last day was particularly memorable with great fell running over tough, technical coastal areas. Plus it was fun to win every day of it.

So I had high expectations and plenty of Serpie friends running with me along the Dorset coast. I also wanted to win and beat the course record of 12h36m. The course had changed slightly due to an increase in the number of entrants needing a larger base camp, but it was basically the same as previous years. The main difference was that it had rained solidly for two weeks and turned the whole hilly course into a mud bath. So I knew that running three four-hour 'marathons' (it's generally more like 27-28 miles per day) would be tough, especially after ramping up the training and racing this month. But what's the point of doing stuff if it's easy?

The first day started with an almighty hill which meant the field of 250 runners was spread out after a mile. Everyone seemed to be happy to let me lead and navigate even though a few of the guys in the lead pack had run it before and I'd met at several races before - Graham Booty got the course record last year and was at the 2008 MdS with me, running very strongly. Also, Adam Holland is still on track to be the youngest to run 100 marathons ever and will complete it this year at the age of 23. He's always challenging for these races and zooms off at a lightning pace which often ends in a slow finish...but not always. So that was just the two guys I knew and they're both fast marathoners, capable of keeping up with me on the road at the moment.

After a few miles of hills, the course turned into the muddiest course I've ever seen. I'm sure that at least half of day one was seriously boggy mud, which just sapped energy and made everyone fall over and slide around like cartoon characters on banana skins. It was ridiculous, but the one saving grace was that we got to do it in the daylight. The runners in the Oner (pronounced One-er) would be doing the entire triple marathon course in one go, starting at 6pm on Saturday and going almost immediately into the night. Us mere triple-dayers felt very glad to be able to rest after so much mud sliding.

I ran the second half on my own and opened up a bit of a lead, feeling annoyed at the mud, but making sure I kept up a running motion rather than walking. It worked since I finished in 3h56m and was a bit ahead of the rest of the field. Not enough to rest but enough to feel comfortable in first, especially since I hadn't gone all out but instead had cruised in when I couldn't see anyone behind. It's always fun to be in the lead and the evening meal had a great atmosphere as everyone felt they'd got through a tough day of big hills and stupidly hard mud. There were three groups each day - walkers, joggers/walkers and runners and most people had started in the runners group but then finished quite late so day two heralded a large switch over as people opted for earlier starts so they could get back to camp earlier and relax more.

We had nothing much to do in the evening so the Serpies mainly opted for the warmth of the pub (it was frickin' freezing, as I'd learned when I got into the sea to cool my legs and got out again 10 minutes later with teeth chattering and shivering uncontrollably). The food provided by the organisers was good, but whoever chose curry as the theme clearly didn't understand what runners need. Luckily nobody had too much of an issue the next day. Conversation was certainly interesting over the first two nights, pre-race and post day one. All I'll say is that Gemma Hagen can answer questions in a way that encourages a lot more questions...

Getting back to day two, we were really up for another day and raring to go. We'd heard this was the 'easiest day' although that depends on your point of view. It didn't have as much mud but certainly had more hills. The scenery was also better, running along the coastline of the island of Portland for about a half marathon and giving great views of steep cliffs and dramatic rocky paths. It was just my type of running - not too steep but plenty of rocks and great vistas. The first half was quick and much easier going than the day before. I was through checkpoint two (there were three per day, spaced roughly every 10k) within 1h30m and had Adam and one other guy with me. But then we went along the sea-front of Weymouth and it was just concrete and dead flat so I pushed on a bit until the last 10 miles which went back into the more interesting coastal paths.

Somehow I'd got through to this point without really going wrong with the navigation thanks to the good maps provided by VOTwo. Usually I don't like having to navigate with no arrows or markers, but the coastal path was generally well sign-posted with an acorn symbol and I managed to keep myself from falling over while viewing the map and checking out the great scenery. Day two was definitely prettier than day one and not just due to weather and less mud. The coastal paths were bigger and better with some great views, especially near the end at Durdle Door, an archway in the sea. The photos here are from Nick Morrison-Smith who took a camera with him and therefore helped to supplement my memories. I didn't bother since the compulsory kit list was long enough anyway and I had no room for a camera.

Day two ended slightly quicker than day one and I managed 3h46m, increasing my overall lead to around 24 minutes. I caught some Serpies who'd left 90 minutes before me in group two but not all of them so that gave me an incentive to catch Serpies Matthew Wilson and Claire Shelley on the final day, if I could.

We'd been told by previous entrants that day three was very hilly. That was an understatement and the first half marathon was almost all steep climbs and descents. It wasn't too muddy but the ascents were too steep for my tired legs to even contemplate running. Instead I managed to stick to a great power-walk which didn't lose me much time. There were two single-day marathoners running at the front who forced the pace more than I'd have liked. After checkpoint one at seven miles it was just me and one of them and he looked very strong, comfortably running up each hill and making a mockery of the angle. Watching him I knew he wasn't just going off too fast and would be able to sustain a fast pace the whole way. That's never the most comforting thought when you've won two days against triple marathoners and single dayers but are now faced with a much faster athlete just when your own legs have been pounded for two days and the course has just got markedly harder.

Somehow I managed to keep him in sight to the checkpoint at halfway. This was mainly thanks to my kamikaze style of downhill running which didn't take much effort, except to put any fears completely off the table. I have to admit that the best thing about mountains and even hills is the down hill. The harder, the better, and I absolutely love the technical stuff where you have to concentrate so hard you're almost holding your breath. Luckily for me, this happens to be the terrain which most slows down almost everyone else so I can always use it to catch up with people, with the added bonus that as I catch them I'm having the time of my life and adrenaline is pumping round my body like a body-builder on steroids...skydiving...naked...probably.

So I somehow left checkpoint two ahead of him and went off, determined to set enough of a pace to make the win hard for him. The course was great from this point. Totally runnable and with great undulating epic coastline views. For anyone feeling tired, like the Oner entrants I was starting to catch up to, this must have been exhausting, but I wasn't far enough into the marathon to be tired and the grass, light mud and rocks were just what I wanted to enjoy myself.

Soon I caught up to my group two Serpies who'd started about 90 minutes earlier. Jo Proudlove, Toby Melville and Jany Tsai were all together and had hoped to get a bit further than halfway before I caught them. Then a few miles later I caught Claire, closely followed by James Adams in the Oner. He told me he was knackered but he'd made good time to that point and only had 10 miles left of the massive distance. He even had time to take a photo of me running up to him, which was helpful of him since there weren't many official photos. I had no time to chat since I knew the guy in second was going well and wasn't far behind at all.

On the other days I'd had it sewn up by this point but it looked like I'd have to push a bit harder this time if I wanted a hat-trick (and 100% record at VOTwo events). I was in two minds since I'd only have six days to recover for Two Oceans 56k in Cape Town and I'd have to be reasonably fresh to break fours hours there for a silver medal. But my competitive nature meant I had to at least cruise with a bit of effort, then if he caught me I could decide whether to go all out for a race or not. I was pretty sure I was far enough ahead of the guys in the triple to be safe but it just seemed silly to not go for the outright win given I was leading and feeling fine.

Checkpoint three came and there was no sign of anyone behind me as I caught more of the early runners and the Oner guys. Every time I passed someone, especially those who'd been out all night, I was sure to congratulate them on getting through the course as it'd had been a real test over three days (or under 24 hours for the ultra runners). I also tried to be as polite as possible when overtaking on narrow sections, whether it was other runners or general walkers on the path. It just seemed like the kind of event where racing comes second and enjoyment and relaxation comes first. But for me the concepts of racing and enjoyment are so intertwined that it's just not fun if I don't have any target, whether that's time, position or whatever.

The running into the finish wasn't too tough and was generally on scenic trails, with one large hill left then a long, gentle downhill. It finished with over a mile along the beach, which is where I caught Drew Sheffield in the last stage of the Oner (I do love meeting mates mid-race as it's more of a conversation starter than just meeting in the street). His first words were to ask if I'd seen any Oner guys behind him and he was relieved to know there was nobody near and that his position was very safe. A man after my own heart, clearly.

Then I expected to see a finish along the beach, but instead there was a turn, a chunk of dune-like sand (I may have mentioned in previous blogs about deserts how much I hate sand), then half a mile of huge puddles to the finish. I'd managed to keep the lead so felt like I was on a victory lap for that last half mile. I finished in 4h04m, annoyed to miss out of the 4h marathon every day, but then the last day was 27.8 miles and the total distance was not 78.6 miles, but more like 81 miles (and I didn't get lost so that should be pretty accurate on the Garmin). At least I'd broken the course record and done so in the worst ground conditions they've had.

Matthew was the one Serpie I didn't catch and he was relaxing at the end, very happy with his impressive finish in a total of sub 16h. Soon after, Claire finished but we disappeared in a bus to the train station before everyone else came through. I also found out that the guy who'd been on my heels all day was Huw Lobb, currently a Serpie, but also one of the fastest British marathoners ever and a cross-country champion. Luckily for me he's not done a marathon for a few years but he's only a little older than me and I certainly consider it a good win to hold him off by 10 minutes. He's not as fast as he used to be, but he's still posted some zippy times in the past couple of years, as good as anyone in the club, if not quite at his peak of a 2:14 marathon. Then Mr Booty managed to beat his own course record too and hold on to a solid second over the three days, but couldn't quite catch Huw's fresh legs on day three.

Overall it was a tough event and brilliantly organised. Everyone, bar a few whingers who seemed to think the mud spoiled their fun, had an amazing time and got highly addicted to multi-day running. I already was, but it's always good to get more mates involved. It was hard, but not impossible. The Oner looked very hard, given the boggy start, but when I opened the door of the caravan in the middle of the night while they ran to briefly cool myself, I saw the clear, still night and could appreciate the majesty of running from dawn to dusk. It's still something I've not done and it's not on the cards this year, even at Western States (unless things go very wrong). The first time I'll do it will be UTMB 2011 which starts in the evening and will have me clambering through mountains through the night. I imagine it'll be a very serene, but exhausting, challenge and look forward to it.

So, it's on to Two Oceans, great white shark cage-diving and then some relaxation. This month has been, overall, a big success. My knee has proved to be completely fine and I've started to get some form back. The training run at Glasgow-Edinburgh felt ok, then I tried to race the Eco Trail de Paris but felt very slow until I managed to get a good last 10 miles in. Then the high mileage (for me) of 95 miles/week this month has left me a little tired but generally ok and definitely not broken. My strongest running was at the end of races, so I've some confidence that I'll be fully in shape for Comrades and Western States. But there's not long before I'll have to start tapering for those, so I just hope I'm able to improve my speed by then otherwise I'll be well off the pace.

50 miles then run up the Eiffel Tower

Starving at CP2

View from the final CP

CP2 while James went through

Typical trail, but less muddy than most of it

The start

James trying his best not to look English and failing as usual

My impression of a Frenchman

If someone told you that you can go up the Eiffel Tower without having to queue you might assume it'd cost a lot or that you'd need to be a visiting dignitary. But about 3,000 people were able to do just that last weekend (not at the same time or there would have been a queue, obviously) thanks to a very cool event, now in its third year - the Eco Trail de Paris. With an 80k, 50k and a shorter 18k, I had to choose the main event and do the longest one.

I decided that March is unofficially mileage month. After the lack of running up til February, I managed to get 60+ miles/week in through that month, just so I'd be able to take the strain of lots of very long races and basically no tapering through the entire month of March. The slightly odd-sounding mileage target for the month is 406.1 miles, worked out as an average of a half marathon per day.

Anyway, following the race this weekend, I'm three weeks into it and have managed to stick to my plan religiously. Obviously, I had to factor in that an ultra means lower mileage for at least a couple of days afterwards, but I've done the hard part now I've finished the second ultra of the month and I'm still feeling fine with the knee injury well and truly in the past. It's meant I haven't got as much speed as before, but in a few months that'll come back. This is the base building phase for both Comrades (end of May) and Western States (end of June) so as long as my legs get used to running longer, they should be able to take some faster training in there too.

The Parisian race was a mixture of fun and things going a bit wrong (for me only - the race was generally well organised even if the communication from the organisers wasn't always perfect). I'd expected a big group of Serpies when I signed up many months ago since it sounds great on paper - 50 miles of undulating trails, finishing with a sprint up to the first floor of the Eiffel Tower and with 1,500 entrants. So many Serpies are getting into trails and ultras that I assumed they'd all be entering...but in the end it was the usual two who do every race they can get their hands on, James Adams and myself.

For a while it looked like it'd just be me due to James' lack of organising any transport to Paris until about a day before, plus his St Paddy's Day food poisoning due to a dodgy late night burger. Then we even had issues overnight at the hotel when I realised there were bedbugs in my bed and that I was being eaten alive and therefore not getting any sleep. I opted to sleep on the floor while James made various noises from various parts of him. Luckily I had ear plugs.

On race morning it seemed like a genteel start given kick off was at 12:30pm. We weren't 100% sure how to get to the start so went to the expo under the Eiffel Tower. Many other runners were there, mainly to register, so we managed to work out that a train from a nearby station went to the right place and that we had been given the correct ticket in out good bag. It wasn't as easy to work out as you'd expect and the actual trains had no identifying numbers or a screen on the platform to show where they headed making us (and about 200 other runners) get on, then quickly off again, several trains before the right one came.

Hoards of lycra-clad Frenchies got off the train with us and we piled into coaches to take us to the start at a place called Trappes, somewhere east and a little south from Paris. There was cake and also muesli bars to eat at the start but it was cold and windy enough to make us both a tiny bit uncomfortable while we waited about 90 minutes for the start. I stuffed my face while James was being more careful and crossing his fingers that his stomach would hold up and that the tiny quantities of food he'd eaten for the past two days would be enough.

After a quick race briefing in French then in English, we were off and the day had warmed up to make us all feel overdressed in our cold weather gear. But gear is a very important thing in this race. Not because you need it (it's Paris in Spring so you aren't exactly going to get lost on a mountaintop for days on end), but because the compulsory item list is long and partially pointless. For example, does everyone really NEED two headlamps with spare batteries as well? Or a very long strip of bandage in case you burst an artery and no medical help is around? Running tights/leggings were also compulsory so I was feeling hot in them. And, like every French race, a medical certificate, signed by a doctor, was compulsory. The one compulsory item I didn't have was a reflective armband, but my hat had reflective strips and my sleeves were bright white. I hoped this wouldn't be an issue.

The course record was a reasonable 6h02m so I had my sights on that but the entire field zoomed off like they all wanted to break world records. I got caught up in it, but was actually running around the right pace at first, covering the easiest and flattest section to 21km in 1h29m. Unfortunately, I felt bad and that I was going too fast. I made the error of running other people's races rather than my own and also didn't want to get too far behind the lead pack. But I wasn't fully fresh after the 56-miler two weeks earlier and in-between I'd run high mileage so my tapering had basically consisted of only doing a 5-miler the day before. Not ideal, but I thought I could get away with it. Even if I couldn't, the training benefit of March meant I couldn't prioritise any of the races unless I wanted to take something away from Comrades or Western States.

I decided to forget about the course record and settled down to a slower pace as the course got harder and prettier. It was very muddy for much of the distance and the hills weren't big, but often steep (1,500m, or about 5,000ft, of total ascent over the whole course but it felt like more) and required walking up. Some stomach problems and too much stuff latched on to the back of my water pack (and therefore falling out) caused a few minutes of stoppages and a group of runners overtook me, including the lead woman. I reckoned I was around the top 20, but couldn't really tell. I'd been running just ahead of them for about 10k, so it was annoying to drop positions without a fight.

A relatively long, but gentle, climb took us up to an observatory and the first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, 35km away along the course. It was a nice surprise to see it, but I'd only gone a few kms over half way so it wasn't time to start thinking of the finish line. Soon after, at 46km, there was a random checkpoint, with no food or water, which we hadn't been told the location of. Annoyingly, the one item of kit they wanted to check was the reflective armband, which I didn't have. So after a couple of minutes of me trying to pretend that it must have fallen off my waterproof jacket which was tacked on to the back of my pack, they let me go but took down my number. I was annoyed for the next few minutes because it was broad daylight, I had no intention of finishing in the dark and I had plenty of reflective stuff on. But I kept jogging along, wondering whether I'd get to the end and be disqualified.

The next checkpoint was a long way, at 53km, and a lot of people struggled with the 32km gap. But by the time I got to it, I'd been running on my own for ages and hadn't seen the people ahead or behind me. I'd overtaken a lot of people since CP1 and they had a lot of film crew and even an MC getting the reasonable crowd and large number of volunteers excited. Everyone before me had been French and there was no other runner in the area so the MC started interviewing me. He knew I was English from the info he had on the runners and it was an interesting experience to try out my French while eating as much as possible. At least my French was good enough to understand when he said I was seventh, but I wasn't sure if that was overall or just in the men's race. With 27km to go, top five overall seemed like a good aim, especially as I'd been taking it easier and felt fresh again.

After a good few minutes of eating and refilling my water bladder, I was off and had more motivation. Even if the time would be slower than I wanted, I could still get a great day's training and top five on an off day with tired legs would be a definite success. Even more so after starting off too hard and then losing heart at the effects of my purposeful overtraining.

I'd ask spectators along the way "Ou est le prochain coureur?" which was imperfect French for "Where's the next runner?" I got a variety of answers, some too long for me to understand, but one guy was very clear and told me I was only a minute behind and that he was going slowly. That spurred me on, but he must have seen a jogger, not one of the participants because I still hadn't caught anyone by the next checkpoint at 60km and I'd sped up.

The day had stayed cool and rain free, so even by this point I didn't need extra layers. The checkpoint was empty of other runners and I now suspected that there was a big gap behind and ahead of me. It meant I had to keep concentrating on not getting lost, but the trails were well marked with tape, some orange arrows on the ground and marshals dotted about on road crossings.

The final checkpoint was at 70km and I finally caught up to the next position just before it. He was struggling badly and hobbling at a slow speed. I asked if he was ok, but his response in French was unintelligible. However, his sullen face said it all - race over. I felt bad for him but it did show me the contrast with how I was feeling, which was fine. In fact I was feeling better than at any other point in the race. It also helped that the second viewing of the Eiffel Tower was at this checkpoint and it looked a lot closer.

Only 10k to go and it would mainly be flatter and along the river after the biggest downhill of the day. I was on track for around 6h30m if it was exactly 10k to go, but that checkpoint was early according to my GPS, so I expected a slightly longer run in to the finish. 10k is nothing as long as you feel fine, so I happily sped up and started throwing in 4-minute kms. The course followed a skanky section which looked more like the canals in the UK than the beautiful Seine river, but it soon switched to the more familiar Parisian landscape.

I caught two more guys along the river and they were both going at a slow jog, so didn't even try to stay next to me. It seems the fast pace at the start ruined a lot of people's races and I'm sure most of the large group who started off with close to 6-minute mile pace could have gotten a better time and had more fun if they'd ignored the rush.

I assumed I was in fourth at this point but still hadn't caught the lead lady so that meant fifth overall at worst. I'd managed to scrape into the top five and it didn't look like there was any chance of gaining more positions - one marshal told me I was 10 minutes behind and I was within the last 5k.

As the Eiffel Tower approached, it gradually looked taller and taller. It wasn't dark yet so the lights all over it weren't lit up. I realised that one of the best things about the race would be to run up to the glittering tower with the lighthouse-style lamp swirling about on the top. But I could always see that later after the finish.

As I came into the final sections and jumped up the stairs from the water-side to the base of the tower, there were large crowds cheering. It was a fitting end to the race...but there was still the best bit to come. As I ran under the tower, the course snaked into the expo tent, along a stage and out the other side. There were staff members and 50k finishers sat down eating and they cheered every runner through, including myself. Then there was just the final climb up the tower to come.

I was given a ticket and they stopped me to check my bag (for bombs?) before letting me loose on the stairs. I started off bounding up them but soon slowed to power-walking two at a time and using the handrail. There was a cameraman just below the entrance into the first floor, so he saw me at my slowest, then he also saw me catch up to the lead lady on the very final turn on the stairs. She was walking slowly and I hesitated for a second about overtaking her on the narrow staircase. However, she kept going at the same speed, so I ran up the last few stairs and popped out to a throng of paparazzi photographers who'd been expecting the winning woman to come through next. They quickly redirected their cameras when she appeared behind me, but I felt exhilarated to have finished and to have recovered from many tough and slow miles in the middle. 6h32m32s and fourth overall, but well off the podium who were bunched together around 6h08m. Over 1,000 of the 1,500 entrants finished within 12 hours but I'm not sure if the slower ones after that time were counted as finishers.

I chatted to the race director and some of the staff but was keen to get down to the bottom again since there was only Coke and beer at the top, with all the food at the bottom in the tent I'd just run through. I also wanted a shower and to get back into a viewing position for when James would come through. He'd optimistically said 7h30m, but his illness meant I expected him to come through slower than this. He finished in 9h20m after some torrential downpours, which I luckily managed to completely avoid in the marquee.

Overall we were both happy to have got round without injury and I was amazed he managed to do it after being ill. James does know how to push himself, which is why he's had finishes in races of 145 miles and 153 miles - sheer guts and determination are the main success factors in those races. I had to face the reality that if I train hard I can't also race hard at the same time with no taper at all. It would be good to retry that race but it's just too far to go from the US.

So, five days to recover and to fit in a slightly lower mileage before the Jurassic Coast triple marathon on Friday-Sunday. Based on how my legs are 48 hours later, I should be fine to run those three races reasonably hard. I don't get to rest properly until a week later, after completing the Two Oceans 56k race in Cape Town, South Africa. Then I can hopefully look back at a great month and allow myself an easy week to soak up the benefits of the training. The proximity of Comrades and Western States isn't really a worry, but I know I need to train very hard, particularly on hills, to nail these races. I can't wait for the challenge I've set myself but there's also a significant chance of failure just because my expectations are set high. Sub 6h at Comrades (2h50m marathon pace for 55.5 miles) and top 10 minimum at Western States as long as I'm not fried from Comrades.

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?