Hercules 1.0 Triathlon Race Report

Swim – 20:32

T1 – 02:25

Cycle – 1:16:08

T2 – 01:08

Run 41:45

Position = 6/68

I had planned to treat this race purely as training. On Thursday I had a massage from Chris, and having not been for one in a good couple of months, there was a lot to iron out. All day Friday I felt that massage and I was a little worried I’d have nothing to offer come race day, I felt sluggish in my swim on Friday morning and certainly didn’t feel much better getting dragged round the Chilterns by a couple of ‘real cyclists’ later that day.  Saturday I went for a swim and did feel a lot better and simulated some starts hammering the first few lengths then easing into a more sustainable pace.

Sunday came around and my goals were to get into the front pack with the swim as best I could, bike conservatively and run at my threshold. I wasn’t here to compete, I was here to test my training to date.

The swim was fresh (14.1 degrees apparently), but not unbearable, I warmed up as best I could and kept moving trying to keep the blood flowing. Soon enough we were off and I found myself on the toes of the lead swimmer. A look back and there was a gap of about 3 metres to 3rd by the turnaround on the first lap. It felt somewhat odd, as being so far up in the field was a foreign experience to me. For my swimming companion, sighting was obviously foreign to him – he was all over the place.

There were some buoys for navigation, and it was colder than this looked

I wanted to take advantage of the draft but not at the expense of 200 extra metres on the swim. As I worked my way back down the lap, I decided it was best to take control of the situation. By the start of the second lap, he had merged behind me, and in my childish nature, I couldn’t help but mess around. I put in a couple of spurts, just to see what would happen. He didn’t respond and lost a couple of lengths on me. I thought about killing myself to see how far ahead I could get, then grew up a little, and decided to hold the pace I was comfortable with and swim in. He rolled in 9 seconds behind me. I feel this was a pace I could hold for Half Ironman certainly, and having no draft for the majority, even if it was a little short, am very happy with my swim – you can’t beat first! ;-)

Leading out the swim....ohh yeaaah!

After the swim I decided that no matter what happened the rest of the day, I would be pleased with the result. I certainly took my time in transition and put on my jacket, gloves etc etc – I left transition in 4^th – haha. I set off on the bike and tried to keep my heart rate at a reasonable level.  I knew I wouldn’t enjoy the ride if I was cold, so no regrets in wrapping up. A couple came past me early on and I caught the girl who had overtaken me in transition. I to’d and fro’d with the swimmer who couldn’t navigate and although the legs felt a little tired, as the second loop was over I felt like I was just getting warmed up. I certainly had a lot more to give on the bike but I definitely need to work on it A LOT if I want to realise my season’s goals – for which there is still time. 

I dismounted before the line, and as I ran into transition, I unclipped my helmet. The marshal shouted, “you, stop there!” As he did so, I clipped my helmet back, guessing what it may have been pertaining to and apologised. I hadn’t intended to cheat and I certainly felt by this point, it was clear I had understood my mistake, and already lost as much time as I could have saved having come to a complete standstill.

I know now that the bike has to be back on the rack before you touch your helmet – but racing the longer stuff I genuinely hadn’t thought about it that much. I’ve even read through the ITU rules now – something I can’t imagine is expected of every triathlete entering a Sunday afternoon run around in Welwyn. (Apparently its illegal to crawl on the run!)

Anyway, the jobsworth marshal was having none of it. As he slowly waddled his slightly rotund frame over to me, he began to question me “How many of these have you done”…..I said “I’ve done one Olympic before”……I looked at my watch and said, “sorry, but can I go?” as the 5^th place ran off out of transition. He said, “look, you can either have me stand here and hold you up for a while or I can give you a two minute penalty”. At this point I bit my tongue, and although many of the things I wanted to say came rushing to me, I just said “be held up for a while?!”. He then waited for a couple of seconds and said, off you go.

On reflection I broke the rules, and I certainly will take heed in future. But where was lotte’s stop and go penalty as stipulated in point 31, Appendix K, number 12, p.126 of the updated 2012 ITU rules for leaving equipment (aerobars) or discarding personal articles on the course? – there is just no justice in the world. What probably bothers me the most is that after all the stick I gave lotte for her Lanzarote transition, it was well and truly returned when she realised she had outsplit me in both transitions. What goes around comes around! See you at IMUK 70.3 Carritt!

RUUUUN!!!!!

Anyway, lesson learned and onto the run, I after less than a lap I had caught the 2^nd swimmer once again, and settled into my pace, I was running at 170 HR and felt I could have held it for a good while. I could see I was very slowly gaining on the guy ahead, but as the laps went on I lost him in the extra bodies on the course. I passed Naomi on my 3^rd lap, and received some encouragement. I carried onto the last half lap as the first lady drew level with me, she had been slowly gaining on me for the run. In no mood to kill myself, as she drew level, I told her she was good to go and I wouldn’t give chase. I mean someone who wears their name on their kit at that time in the morning in rural Hertfordshire is clearly taking triathlon a bit too seriously! ;-)

Some of the run course - it wasn't this nice a day!

Sadly as I rounded the last corner I saw that the guy ahead of me and he was much closer than I had though – maybe with a little more effort I would have had 4^th.  But realistically, there was not ability in this field worthy of beating. Even so,  I upped the pace in the final 50m – its almost irresistible  when you are running towards a finish chute. I was happy with a solid race (bar transitions) and gladly  undid all my hard work at Ray’s gathering – as usual……

Lanzarote Summary

It feels like we were there longer than a week, but Lotte and I are now back in England. All things considered, things probably could not have gone better. I can't speak for Lotte, but I certainly leave Lanzarote more motivated and fitter than when I arrived (I've even got a tan).

I think its easy when you set aside a block of time for serious training to have unrealistic expectations of what you might achieve. Perhaps I would have trained longer and harder had I not had such a debilitating gastric issues in the preceding days before flying out, but as a result I arrived only wanting to get back into training. Therefore, what I considered we achieved over the past week exceeded my expectations. Either way, the outcome has left me pondering this statement:

"Whatever happens is the only thing that could have"

Not wanting to get into a deep philosophical discussion of what that might entail just now, instead, I’ll talk through our week. We arrived on Thursday morning, and instead of renting the bikes from Friday-Monday leaving two days to relax after, we rented them from Saturday-Tuesday giving me and extra day to build my strength for the days ahead. 

The long drag up Fire Mountain

On Friday, even though I certainly didn't feel my best on waking, we set off on a gentle 4 mile run in the morning to Puerto Calero and back along some undulating trails. It was great to be out training again, and it was a great way to get some of the cobwebs out of my system. More literally, Lotte and I also ensured we did our POWERbreathe training, choosing to do the 30 breaths after our run, to work the already part-fatigued inspiratory muscles. Not only does this add an aspect of specificity to the training, but it is also a good way to get it out of the way. I tend to do most of my training in one big block in each day, so putting at least part of the POWERbreathe practice actually into that training block seems to lessen the logistics of performing the twice daily regimen.

View of Puerto del Carmen Harbour on an early morning run

On Saturday, Lotte and I slept through and wandered over to the breakfast buffet in a leisurely fashion. We then set out for a 50 mile route of the Ocean Lava bike course and ran for 30 mins off the bike. This was my first experience of cycling in Lanzarote, and it took some getting used to. I haven't been cycling that much of late, coming off a run focus, and I knew my cycling legs would take a while to return. The ocean lava course is pretty cruel, but great fun.  I slowly began to get my bearings on the island and lets just say I also began to understand when the wind was going to be helpful, and when the wind was not going to be helpful. Despite my short-lived illness, I also found that I was relatively rested, and perhaps a little over enthusiastic. After a loop of El Golfo as we climbed up into Las Brenas, I pulled away from Lotte, building to threshold and enjoy the silent smooth roads. Then out of Las Brenas, having enjoyed the last little surge I did the same again, this time climbing out of the saddle and pushing on. We re-grouped at the bottom of the next sweeping descent and then turned left up the climb at Fermes. I only had to look ahead to see a small car at a funny angle to know it wasn't going to be pretty. It was most of what I had to hold on to Lotte's wheel for the short but steep climb to the top. Lotte aptly described that climb in a tweet later that evening "#Fermesisabitch". Im inclined to agree (excuse the pun).

View from the top of the "#Fermesisabitch" climb

On Sunday we were to bike the Ironman course, which to be honest I found a bit of a struggle. It was a hot day, and I think by the time we reached the top of Tabayesco, the heat was starting to tell. Not even an arid cheese and ham sandwich (hey Spain, ever heard of BUTTER?!) was enough to bring me back. I stayed alive on some caffeinated gels up to Mirador del Rio, but  really blew up on the way back along the LZ1. Even though the wind was behind us, as we moved along at the same speed as the wind, it was as though there was no breeze at all, and I just felt like I was cooking in my helmet. It was over soon enough, and 100 miles with 2000m + of elevation the bag. Even knowing what I know of coping with adversity, this was a great reminder of how easily, when you’re tired you can still lose focus and drift into a more negative mindset. I’m happy to say I took this reflection with me over the rest of the week, and made an effort to actively re-enforce my positive emotions as I trained – I felt much better for it!

Lotte coasting down to Famara

On Monday I had convinced Lotte to take the morning off, to give us some time to recover, and to head out for a late-afternoon ride. Now knowing the island a little better I selected a route that I felt would be about as easy (wind assisted) as we could get. After a little splashing around in the sea in the morning, we got on the bikes and  head off up the donkey track and then over Fire Mountain, getting some of the uphill work out the way. Dropped down through Mancha Blanca, Tinajo and into La Santa before a short climb (wind assisted) up to Soo. Dropped down again into Famara, then another (wind assisted) (do you see where I'm going with this?) climb up to Teguise, before coasting back (mostly downhill, wind assisted) home. Despite plotting as favourable route as possible this still gave us another 50 miles and nigh on 1000m ascent. Beacuse it was later in the afternoon, it was also a little windier, which Lotte was quick to point out! Regardless 200 miles and 4000m+ asc in three days and we were beginning to see what resembled some decent training. 

Panorama view from Mirador del Rio

 On Tuesday we forewent out buffet breakfast in the morning in favour of heading out early. We had got some supplies from the supermarket and had those before getting out the door before 8am. As we set out on sore bums, it was abundantly clear, that it wasn't just tired legs that might slow us down, but a strong wind. Lotte's sister had recommend we see Orzola right at the other end of the island. We plotted a relatively direct route there, but it was hard going. I’m not sure if the 40 min slog into a buffeting wind from Arrieta detracted from the initial impressions of Orzola, or whether a favourable view was soured by the unsuspecting climb out of there, but needless to say I won't be in any major rush to go back. Having taken on another gel, Lotte and I commenced the (in)famous Tabayesco TT. We managed it comfortably in 40 mins. I held back most of the way and enjoyed the climb. It wasn't nearly as steep as I had remembered from descending some of that section on Sunday. I think it was Lotte's time to be wiped, as after a bite to eat she seemed to struggle a little as we made our way back. Instead of a direct route home however we had added in a loop down from Teguise to Tahiche, through San Bartoleme to and back up to Tinajo to make up some distance. This did NOT go well. The wind seemed to have picked u even more  and those of you that know, this loop heads north.  No hashtag that can be repeated could describe how Lotte suggested she felt. Soon enough the miles ticked away and we were coasting back across from Mancha Blanca towards PdC, on what I think must be one of my favourite stretches of road on the island. 

It'd be wrong not to eat some Paella...

Lotte and I managed our POWERbreathe training every morning and evening, and having performed the twice daily breaths before, and also having only ‘dabbled’ before, it is also clear that the rapid progression comes from the regularity of practice. No surprises there then. This time, I have opted to also perform half of my daily practice standing up, without the inspiratory muscles supported. Although these attempts seem significantly harder initially, and some adjustment of the level is required for the standing, I hope that the hard work will pay dividends. For now, I look forward to building on the both the momentum and hard work (21 hours of cycling in 4 days) established out here in Lanzarote. 

POWERbreathe UK

So this week hasn't turned out quite as planned, but it could be worse.

On Monday, I (more or less) completed my 30 days of running. (30 mins running every day for 30 days); a small challenge I had taken up for a good boost to my run training in the run up to Roth. I say more or less as I had technically let slip on the 26th (after zero sleep from a poorly timed uni assignment) but made it up with a double run on the Friday. Technical completion or not, I had achieved the desired outcome, I was running well, and had a good mix of interval work in there too. As I am sure you will realise, April had also been a bit soggy, so I was pleased that I had stuck it out.

All I had to tackle on Tuesday was my final exam of the year, before I could look forward to getting ready for a week in Lanzarote, training (but also relaxing) with Lotte.

However, on Monday night, I came down with a nasty bought of gastroenteritis which I reckon I can trace to an uncharacteristic pastry after swimming on Monday morning. I had an unsettled stomach by mid-morning. By late evening I felt plain unwell, and by 2am, I had lost nearly 3 kilos. I don't think there is ever a good time to get gastroenteritis, but this was particularly poorly timed. Not that I wasn't up for risking an 'inbetweeners'-esque moment in my exam, but I honestly was incapable of anything that day and decided to apply for mitigating circumstances. I just slept.

It was then a race to recover for some decent training in Lanzarote. Although I felt remarkably better on Wednesday, I still felt very weak.  Lotte and I decided to push back the 4 day rental of the bikes until Saturday, to give me an extra day to recover, and it seems to have paid off. My stomach seems to have rebuilt itself, the sun is out, and I even felt like a beer yesterday (and today of course).

So having rested up, Lotte and I even managed a run this morning.

After 3 days off, I guess this signals the start of the last big push before Roth, and then of course Transalpine. In relation to the latter, further good news comes in the form of team sponsorship by POWERbreathe.  Lotte and I will now officially run as Team POWERbreathe UK and blog on our training with the devices in the run up to the race. I have been using mine for a while, and have noticed significant benefits in my breathing during swimming and during interval work, but really expect to reap the rewards when it comes to running at altitude. Hopefully we will both be able to give a balanced and realistic account of what it is like to train for triathlon and multi-day eventing using POWERbreathe, and also an insight into some useful hints and tips regarding its usage.

Anyway, thats enough for now. Off for some dinner and then to bed before some biking and running tomorrow.

Sussex CTS Marathon (in pictures!)

So I had hoped to write up a report about this race, but as ever I have found that by not writing something immediately, life gets in the way.  My girlfriend however, managed to get something down, so here is a link to her blog. Having run the race with her, although her report offers a different perspective, I would say it is a (mostly) accurate account of events.

http://lotte-carritt.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/east-sussex-cts-marathon-race-report.html

What am I bringing to the party you may ask? (other than my excellent pacing ;-)) - well here are some photos that I did manage to take of the race, and a pictorial account of the day.

Gary gives the race briefing (no new jokes)

Lotte and Gemma at the sunny start...

Lotte steams off early on, the hills soon sorted that out...

One of the hills that slowed her down...

The course cruelly took us back past the start on several occasions...

Spot the clown

Bridget ended up running the last 4 miles of the half without any shoes....

Tomas collects 2nd place in the Half

Lotte collects 3rd place for the Ladies Marathon

A Nepalese goat herder collects 2nd in the Ultra

The Tri London medal haul

My reward after breaking in some new shoes

Yet another fantastic CTS event and in great conditions (as usual). Next up a block of serious training for Challenge Roth....

Wuthering Hike (Haworth Hobble) - 10th March 2012

Just for a change Lotte and I thought we would put together a joint race report
for the Haworth Hobble. Hopefully it should offer our dual perspective and hopefully make for a nice change.

Short Report - 6.01.29, 10th Mixed Pair (26 total), 119 overall (297 total)

Stats - 32miles, 4,400ft ascent (1,340m)

The Route

Pre-race and start

Andy: Unusually, Lotte arose before I did. We had kindly been put up at Ali and
Emma’s in Hebden bridge, but since Emma had taken Ali off for some more
(undoubtedly hilly) training for her attempt at the Fred Whitton, they had
left us the keys. After a long week at uni, and a long drive, I tried to convince
Lotte of the merits of the ‘John Griffin approach’. It’s a complex method, but
fundamentally involves consuming a bottle of red wine the night before a race.

Anyway, we got up around 5.45am, fed the cats, and the fish (house sitting comes
with great responsibility) and set about breakfast. Coffee with coconut oil, a
berry smoothie and stewed apple with reflex natural whey protein powder
stirred in (yum?)

Those aren't pillows, they are cats!

As we drove over to the race start in Haworth (about 8 miles) the weather did
not look promising. At the top of the hills, there was a thick cloud, it was raining,
and there was driving wind; saw a couple of wind turbines that looked as though
they were about to take off. With a relatively low volume of running, I had that
nagging feeling in the back of my head, “do I REALLY need to do this?”

Having registered and eaten some almond slice, we walked over to the start,
down a steep hill, which as Lotte correctly predicted, we were about to run
straight back up….

The walk down to the start

Lotte: I spent the night acting as a bean bag for the cats whilst Andy slept
soundly beside me. Despite my attempts to deposit the cats onto his side of the
bed they seemed to prefer my company. So I gave in and tried to let the purring
(from the cats, not Andy) lull me back to sleep. It didn’t work. After a cuppa and
some porridge we drove over to the race in miserable weather. Visibility was
pretty bad and I was reluctant to get out of the car on arrival. However, just as
we were walking to registration, the rain stopped and patches of blue appeared.
Our spirits were raised. Little did we know how short lived that would be……...

First 15 miles

Andy: Well what can I say? I didn’t see much. The weather hadn’t much
improved since our drive over, and for considerable sections of this part of the
run, it was worse. The only thing you could really hold on to was the fact that
the run was a loop, and therefore eventually, that would mean we wouldn’t be
running into a headwind. Of course, the wind could change direction with us
and by the way the day had gone so far, that would not have surprised me. I
was settling in for a long day. There was however a long downhill very runnable
section (even with the wind behind us, almost) which I very much enjoyed,
so I can’t say it was all bad. We were however mostly in cloud, which meant
that I didn’t see much more than just a grass verge for a good couple of hours,
which got quite boring. I guess its just lucky the weather wasn’t like this way back
when, or no-one would ever have found Wuthering Heights. We had soon
realised we should stay close to ‘the locals’, with no map of our own, we would
not have stood a chance on the navigation front.

A nice bit of running early on...

Lotte: Yorkshire people are a hardy bunch. Not a piece of Kenesio tape nor
compression sock in sight. Just tough folk with nothing more than a pair of Mo
Farah shorts and a vest sprinting off up the first hill as if the headwind didn’t
exist. We southerners were definitely in a different league to this lot. I felt
incredibly slow, even though our pace was decent and my heart rate was up. I
spent a lot of this first section tucked in behind Andy trying to get some shelter
from the relentless wind. As Andy enjoyed the long downhill section he asked if I
was alright as I was rather quiet. I told him I was bored. Bored of seeing nothing
but his back, there were no views to see (even though a couple of locals assured
us the views were amazing) thanks to the cloud we were running through.
Bored and fed up at 9 miles in. This was going to be a looooong day. The couple
of biscuits from mile 7 check point were wearing off and I had the hump that
the only food there was some broken biscuits. Not what I would call substantial
for a 32 mile run into the wind with 4,400ft of elevation. My 3 gels and 3 Mrs
Crimble macaroons would be gone before half way at this rate. However, as
we passed our 3 or 4th or possibly even 5th reservoir (hard to tell after a while)
and came upon checkpoint 2 @ mile 15 my spirits soared as my eyes beheld
hot cross buns, jam doughnuts, hotdogs, squash, biscuits and sweets. YEY!!!
FOOOOOOOOOOOD!! Even though Andy made me run and eat I don’t think I
have ever enjoyed a doughnut more.

Stoodley Pike revisited

Andy: Having sustained myself on 3 gels and handful of biscuits for the first
13 miles, at the 2nd aid station, I refilled my water and grabbed roughly the
equivalent of a whole packet of biscuits, more out of boredom and for something
to do (eat loads of biscuits) than anything else. With no views, the running had
been a little dull. Unusually, however, there was another checkpoint just 2 miles
down the route. More because I couldn’t resist myself, I then had a hot dog and
a hot cross bun – soon, my spirits were beginning to lift, and with it, the cloud
cover.

The ascent before the the climb up to Stoodley Pike

We trudged on, following ‘the locals’ through Todmorden, and lots of turns,
lucky not to get lost. Soon enough however, the climbing began to start proper.
Just before the ascent up to Stoodley Pike there was yet another aid station at
around 20 miles. I was almost beside myself with joy having had a jam doughnut,
some biscuits, and another hot cross bun when I realised there was a man giving
out drams of whisky. A Jura 10 years single malt – nothing special, but hey, it
was free. I’ve never tried alcohol in a race before and I think I’d try it again. It
certainly gave me that inner warmth for the climb up to the pike. We yet again
followed a ‘local’ for the fastest route. As it turned out this guy had come third
in this race 10 years previously in 4.26 – not too shabby. Even if he was a little
slower now, he wasn’t going to be wasting his time with anything but the fastest
route. We made some good time up to the pike and then back down into Hebden
Bridge. When Lotte and I had visited Ali and Emma before IMUK last year, we
had actually run out and back to Stoodley Pike from their house, so this was now
a familiar route!

Stoodley Pike about to disappear into the clouds

Lotte: On a sugar high we strode off enjoying the fact that we were almost half
way and the fog had gone. It was still windy in places, and very muddy. Anyone
who knows me knows how I feel about mud and like a proper girl, I picked my
way as delicately as possible around the worst of it but still ended up submerged
up to my ankles in black mud (and I think a not insubstantial amount of cow
poo). A local man had told us that the first 20 miles were runnable, then it got
hard. Erm…..what? THEN it got hard?!! See? Yorkshire folk. Hardcore. I tried
to convince myself that he had got it wrong, despite this being his 6th race but
had to face reality as we came upon Stoodley pike. Andy had been chatting to
a guy that looked like a pirate and I was a few paces behind when I saw Long
John Silver, Andy and a handful of others leave the path the other runners had
taken and go directly vertically up towards the top. I followed suit and gasped
my way up along side a woman who was actually on her hands and feet crawling
her way up. Steep was not the word. But it was quicker and became quicker still
when Andy got behind me and told me to “hurry up” because he was getting cold.
Yeah, next time Andy, a push up the hill would have been more conducive……..
We reached the top and the cloud again. The wind was howling up there and we
saw some people heading straight on in the distance. We couldn’t see anyone
else and as we’d been up here before and taken the left hand way down into
Hebden Bridge we stopped to wait for someone who did know. Luckily LJS knew
and we were soon running down a lovely gentle descent towards Hebden Bridge
and actually passed Emma and Ali’s house where we were staying. Had I had the
house key on me at that point…

Hebden bridge and beyond...

Andy: As we dropped down into Hebden Bridge (past the end of Ali and Emmas
road!) it was hard to convince Lotte to carry on.  I too found it difficult to convince her it would be easy going having seen a sign warning us of giant toads ahead! (Luckily Lotte didn't see this sign, or I think the day may have ended somewhat differently)

GIANT TOADS!!! AHHHH!!!

The climb over to Haworth turned out to be a long, hard, steady and uneven slog for more or less 6 more miles.  The final two miles were however downhill, but by now, it was just about getting
it done. Even though the weather had improved, my conditioning was making
itself apparent. My right hip flexor was quite sore and I too was as glad as Lotte
to finish in just over 6 hours.

We didn’t hang around for food, and headed straight back for a shower and a
stretch before getting a pork belly in the oven for a good 3.5hours. Down the pub
for a pint, then back for dinner. All in all, a good day!

Lotte: After the Everest-esque expedition up to Stoodley Pike we of course had
to drop down into the town of Hebden Bridge. By now the downhills were
harder than the ups and I actually had to lean on Andy to make running the long
descent to the town bearable. I even fell over on one of the steeper sections.
The third doughnut high had long gone and I was tired. The sun was now out
and it was hot. Of course because we had dropped back to sea level, we had to
climb back up into the clouds. This was a long long hill which was only made

better by a local man in his doorway offering sweets and juice. Normally my
upbringing would have kept me away from a stranger trying to lure me into his
house with sweets but by this point I didn’t care. The going was tough, the
ground uneven. Andys game for the day was run for 10 mins then we can
reward ourselves with a walk and some food. This seemed to work as before we
knew it a couple more miles had ticked by and we were at marathon distance in
a time of 5:03. Only 10k to go. Only another hour of running…………………. Our
walking time was over on an uphill section that everyone else was walking so as
we were running again now we passed a fair few people here. 2 mixed teams
which pleased Andy (I was way beyond caring where we finished, just as long as
we did soon) and a handful of people we’d be too-ing and fro-ing with. But as
soon as we hit the descent, they more or less all came by us again. This is by far
my weakness and I need to learn how to descend properly, even when tired. At
the bottom of this downhill section was, yup, another up. We walked this and
worked out we had about 2 miles to go. We walked mainly because everyone
else was. In fact, we should have run it as we were so close to the end. But as
soon as we got off that section of road and onto the dirt track we started to wind
it up. I told Andy to pick it up a gear and we started taking some places back.
Unsurprisingly, I loved this section, down hill and a mile from the end. A wiggly
path past a church and we popped out a few hundred meters from the school. A
lovely sunny afternoon and a good cheer from the supporters and we were finished.

Waiting for dinner...

This was a really good value for money race. £10 each and cake at the start,
food galore on 3 of the checkpoints and a hot meal and more cake at the finish.
A tough but rewarding course (well it would have been if we’d have been able
to see the views!) and a better understanding of why they call it the Haworth
Hobble.

Result!

Pilgrim Challenge 2012

So I had signed up to this race planning to get some 'multi-day' experience in with Lotte as part of our preparation for Transalpine this September.   The format is 33 miles out along the North Downs Way (NDW) on day 1, then back along the same route for day 2.  I had mixed experiences of the event; definitely well organised, but last time had got seriously lost 6 miles from the end of day two and a little bit lost on the first day too. I was however confident, having run the majority of the course since, that I would not make the same mistakes again!

After a reasonable 6am rise, Lotte and I had some breakfast (stewed apple mixed with whey protein and coffee with grassfed butter and coconut oil) and drove down the the start near Farnham.  On arrival it was a chilly -7, which caused all the portaloo flushing mechanisms to freeze solid. Fortunately I had already answered the calls of nature before I left, so it was not an issue.  I was cosy and warm in my huge Nanok down jacket from my polar kit and didn't really want to take it off to load into my bag (to be transported to Merstham - where you camp in a school hall overnight)

Over the last three weeks I've been part of some research at the British Olympic Medical Institute, and so have had a 48 hour exercise ban pre-testing before Friday morning each week.  As such most of my training has been weighted towards the weekend.  Having done little since Tuesday, I snuck in a 30 min run on Friday night to stretch my legs out a little.  They were feeling good, having also got in 7+ hours of hilly double run days last weekend in Exmoor on the challenging coastal terrain, I had high expectations for the weekend ahead.

My partner from Transalpine in September (Chris Jenkins) was also running.  He had made his excuses claiming to be woefully under-prepared and had also mentioned a slight knee niggle over the last few weeks,  He had rested and wanted to see how it went on day 1, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

We all set off together in the 9am 'runners' start as opposed to the 8am 'walkers' or 10am 'elite runners' start.  I knew we would be fast enough to start in the 10am group, but it was good to get off and finish a little earlier (I had my eye on the big crash mat at gym Oli and I had bagsied last time we raced).  I suggested to Chris and Lotte we get to the front of the pack to get onto the narrow sections of trail ahead of the majority of runners so that we could go at our own pace.  Its amazing how much you can get held up running behind people you think are running at your pace.

I decided to carry the route card just in case but was confident enough to know where I was going from memory.  Sadly it turned into a bit of a runner's tour as soon enough 8-10 runners had latched onto our group expectantly waiting for the next turns where the route wasn't that clear.  I can't say I overly enjoyed running in a large group, but it was interesting to see how people will hold onto a pace, even if it wasn't right for them.  The running was good, with the trail frozen underfoot - it was relatively fast going.

After about 20 miles, the group started to thin out considerably as perhaps the pace was too high for some.  Just as we reached the top of box hill, Lotte mentioned that her knee was causing her some problems. About a 7/10 on the pain scale. She reluctantly soldiered on though, torn between stopping and having to wait for an age to get a lift to the finish and finishing and maybe doing more damage than necessary.  Chris and I stayed with her, and she held a good pace despite the discomfort. One of two displays of Carritt-hardiness this weekend.  When you run a long way, it is sometimes difficult to tell what is an injury and what is your body just telling you that it thinks you are an idiot. I think no matter how much you do, running a long way will inevitably ache.  You may think those elites aren't hurting, but I bet they are, they just happen to be going faster.

After we passed the last checkpoint with 3 miles more or less downhill to go, Lotte began to focus on the end (or perhaps everything started to hurt more so as to balance the pain) and her knee didn't seem to be bothering her so much, we held a good pace in to the finish 5.28.  About ten minutes quicker than when I had run it a couple of years ago (although that year I had been a little delayed by mis-navigation).  This was however good enough to put us about 30th out of 180 odd runners and Lotte 4th lady (I think).  As the running was over, she immediately cheered up too (not that she was grumpy at all).  Personally I had felt quite tight and cold most of the day, never really finding much flow and was glad for it to be over.

We all showered and Lotte and I got a quick massage before heading to the pub to watch the Rugby with Chris.  We were going to head back to the school for the main dinner, but settled on the 'fancy' dinner away from the busier canteen.  The real ales, steak and quiet bar unfortunately proved a little too appealing - and before I knew it we were walking back through the snow, 4 pints of Doombar happier.  Perhaps slightly merry, I still then tucked into the pasta dinner at the school and some apple crumble as we listened to James Adams talk about how he had run across America last summer - inspiring stuff.

I awoke after not a very good nights sleep.  Certainly not made any better by the 4 pints - not the best recovery tactic. The snow was much deeper than I had thought.  Just in case any of you haven't seen enough crappy pictures of snow, here is one Lotte took on race morning.  We were in the 'late' start initially at 9am. But due to the weather they decided on an 8am mass start and announced the fact as we leisurely strolled back from breakfast at about 7.35am.  Giving us about 25 mins to pack up and get ready.

This time with the snowy conditions I suggested it was even more important to get to the front at the beginning, since the compacted snow would get even more slippy underfoot.  Sadly however after no more than 200 yards, Lotte straight away mentioned that her knee was causing undeniable problems.  I offered to pull out with her (still somewhat apathetic and groggy-headed to the day ahead).  She however declined and walked back to the start alone.  Difficult, but certainly the right decision - which as I have mentioned before in relation to Chris' withdrawal from Transalpine, I believe is often the braver one to make. "Any fool can suffer".

Chris and I then pressed on now almost at the back of the field.   For the first three uphill miles, it was at times tricky to pass the slow train of runners gingerly making their way up the single tracks through the snow.  Soon enough however we had fully warmed up and I started to feel good. I had none of the tightness from the day before and I was starting to enjoy myself. Chris tagged on well, just behind me for the majority of our way along the single tracks to the first checkpoint.  Most of the checkpoints had been moved to the more accessible main roads, obviously hampered by the snow.  The first one, frustratingly had been moved about half a mile down the road, forcing you to do an out and back to get to it.  I was however glad to see a couple of runners I knew who had about 15-30 mins on us from the first day just a couple of minutes ahead.  One of whom was wearing some Hoka's.  We settled into a good rhythm and I enjoyed following their characteristic foot prints through the snow.  Despite feeling quite sick for most of the morning (the porridge hadn't agreed with me - or was that the Doombar?) I was confident we could make a time not much more than 30 mins slower than day 1.

It was suprisingly warm thanks to the cloud cover, and slowly the snow around us began to melt leading to random and large clumps of snow to fall from the trees above. Most of the paths were tricky to negotiate with the weight of the snow dragging the branches well down across the paths.  The increasingly slushy snow seemed to be taking its toll on everyone one - it was hard-going, if not beautiful running.

Sadly by around mile 20 Chris mentioned that his knee concern was getting a little achey.  We still carried our momentum until with about 9 or so miles left he suddenly dropped off behind on some runnable descents.  I waited and it was clear he was in a bit of trouble.  I was quite frustrated as I was starting to feel really strong and we were reeling people in up ahead.  We discussed me going it alone, and as much as I wanted to just run off, whats the point in running 60 miles with someone and leaving them just at the end?  I stuck with Chris but we were reduced to a walk on all the uphills. Chris was also visibly frustrated, but determined to finish.  With only 1 checkpoint left, it was going to be faster to walk it in than him wait at the checkpoint for recovery so we trudged on.  With all chance of a 'good' time out the window, it was hard to find a rhythm or the motivation to keep working.

Slowly the miles passed and eventually we came in around 6.38. Probably losing close to 30-40 minutes with all the hobbling.  I still enjoyed the day, and the chance to run in the snow.   Taking the positives, it even provided the odd 'polar-flashback' and a nice sense of perspective.  Of course the delay offered the usual bonus of some extra 'time on feet' too.

Last night I decided on a much more sensible recovery protocol - wine coolers on the feet!

Round Rotheram 50

I can't even remember when I entered Round Rotheram, but I think it was during a misguided moment  after Transalpine.  In fact, on checking the credit card statement it would appear it was about a week after, but for only £13, what could possibly go wrong?

I had heard some, let's call them 'mixed' reviews about the race, but I guess I was really persuaded by the idea that it was a friend's (Titan PT, Paul W) first ultra attempt, and another club member (old smelly little Kev) was already going up to support - safety in numbers.  Describing it as a friend's 'first ultra attempt' is actually a bit misleading, in his first season of proper triathlon he's already completed the mammoth task of completing three iron-distance events.  Not feeling that this was enough to be able to call himself an real 'endurance athlete', he wanted to top the season off with a 50 miler, in under 11 hours, and in doing so fulfill the requirements to enter the lottery for the famous Western States 100-miler in California.

Paul had mentioned it in passing at the pub one night after swimming and for me, there is something I find quite amusing about sitting in a pub and the conversation that effectively unfolding as follows:

"So, what's next after the Ironman Triology?"
"I'm going to run 50 miles, so I can run 100 miles somewhere else"
"Oh right ok..."
"Where are you going to run the 50?"
"Round Rotheram, wanna join me?"
"Ha.......no........ok.........maybe, go on then."

I was collected at about 3pm on Friday afternoon by Paul, Kev and Sarah B, as we were hoping to miss rush hour and make a relatively painless journey up the M1.  Things had obviously gone excellently as we arrived at the Park Inn Rotheram probably closer to 8pm than any of us would have imagined.   My attempts to convince everyone to plump for the cheaper (£4) option of sleeping of the sports hall floor had failed miserably, and so I was determined to enjoy the lavish hospitality.   We went straight for dinner, and I went for a portobello mushroom burger with fat chips and two pints of Guinness.  Paul had obviously left his testicles in London as he sipped white wine (with his pinky raised), but marginally redeemed himself by ordering a Barnsley chop.  For dessert, I had an ice cream cookie sandwich - obviously.

After heading up to the room, I managed about 6 hours interrupted sleep before a 5.15 alarm call.  I think Kev managed about 6 minutes sleep, but he seemed to be looking forward to the day ahead. I forced down (still full from the night before) a portion of apple sauce with whey protein and custard, and 2 pots of rice pudding.  After a coffee,  we made the short drive to the sports centre in time to see the early starters head off along the road.

Having been a clear night it was fairly brisk, and I was happy to get running.  Having not run at all since Jogshop 20 last week, the plan was just to take it nice and steady to start.  I ran with Paul chatting away, and soon enough the first 17km were over.  Although cold initially, it was probably close to a perfect day for running.

In fact, the first 40km passed in what seemed like almost no time at all - I guess time flies when you are having fun! After a good feed and refilling our water, we moved away from the half way point with around 5 hours on the clock.  Paul Thompson, fresh from racing (and not doing too badly) in a double ironman out in Virgina only a week ago was waiting for us, although he did admit to 'noticing some fatigue' at this point ;-)

As time wore on, it was apparent that Paul W was starting find things tough. Paul T described it well with the question "Are you entering new territory Paul?" "Yes" was the response.   It was frustrating, I wanted to help Paul, but knew there was nothing I could do except keep encouraging him as best I could.  I reminisced about my first ultra a couple of years ago in the Brecon Beacons.  Everything hurt, at only half way I thought I couldn't go on. In so many ways it was utter misery, but I also very clearly remember that when I felt like that, I couldn't possibly imagine that anyone else knew what it was like for - what ever they'd been through, this was worse, no matter what they said.  To be fair to  Paul W though, he didn't even moan, he just got on with it. I'm pretty sure I whinged all the way round.   It also turns out that Paul T raced that year of the Brecon Beacons - small world.

With Paul W valiantly battling his own demons, I spent time discussing Paul T's experiences of his double and triple Ironman's and the tricks the mind can play on you during endurance events.  To me it was fascinating, and I was having a great time.  Good weather and good company.  Rotheram was even pulling out its big guns, as we made our way past the ruins of the 12th Century Roche Abbey.  This was a noticeable improvement on the highlight of the first half of the race - the water/sewage  treatment works near Elsecar.  On reflection, the majority of the first 20km smelled like $h1t, and its probably unfair to blame that entire stretch on just the water treatment works.

Sadly however, time was marching inevitably onward and the 11 hour target was beginning to look in danger.  We came out of the second to last aid station where we were told there were 12 miles remaining - we had 2 hours 15 to do it.

We soldiered on and as the 10 hour mark approached, my feet were starting to feel decidedly achey.   The closer we got to the finish, the more it was becoming apparent how seriously close it would be at the current pace.  Paul did great to keep running, and was just stuck at turning his legs over across the variety of terrain.  The trouble is with races like these is that there is no guarantee that they aren't slightly long or short, having also got a little lost earlier on, we had certainly removed any possibility of being able to make it if we went wrong again.  I had the map - the pressure was on.

We got into the last aid station with I think about 10.27 on the clock, grabbed a final bit of fuel and moved straight on.  They said 3 miles to go, and although it felt like we were still a little over 10 min miles, I felt that we could do it.  Paul was obviously committed to giving it a go, and we pushed on.  We got onto a small canal section with perhaps a a little over 3km to go and I stopped to adjust the number on my shorts - the safety pin uncomfortably rubbing, and also to take a photo - I was confident I could catch up.  I couldn't have stopped for 30 seconds and set off quickly to catch them.

After nearly a minute of solid running I was only just gaining on them, some-one had pushed the 'go button' on Mr. W and he was really kicking on.  As I rounded a corner and finally had them in range, they ran past the next turning, I shouted and they swiftly turned around having gone about 20 yards too far and once again we were together again.  I was leading as we rand in a tight 3, and Paul W asked me to up the pace, I edged on, "faster...." ok. I was genuinely running towards the upper edge of what I felt I could manage, and loving it.... Here we go I thought.

There were lots of turnings on the map, and an entire column of directions was assigned to the last kilometre or so - this was pressure map reading at its worst.  We were mowing down people ahead of us, and Paul T even began to linger at the back.  Paul W was running like a man possessed.

In the end we came painfully close, and finished just 1 minute and 25 seconds over the 11 hour mark. A true sign of character though, is that Paul didn't stop sprinting those last 2-3km even though he perhaps may have known that he was just outside the time he was aiming for.  He said earlier the day that he wanted to finish strong - and that he certainly did.  As the time was read out, I was gutted for him, for to put yourself through that to miss out by so little is almost comical in its absurdity.   I really hope that in time Paul will look back on the day fondly, and not with obvious disappointment he showed immediately after.  To complete a 50 mile run is something to be proud of regardless of the time.  When you take into account that it was his first attempt at the distance, his endurance career to date and the season he has had so far, its easy to lose sight of the achievement.  It may not have been the desired outcome, but the performance was in no way lacking.

After the finish, as the adrenaline began to wear off, we all got showered and changed, hobbled slowly to the car and we began the journey home - not without a stop off for a KFC, which barely touched the sides.

I feel surprisingly good this morning, with no excessive soreness/tightness, but thats not to say I'm 100%, and I certainly enjoyed a massive bacon and egg sandwich whilst watching the rugby this morning.  However, I feel this may be different story tomorrow morning, gotta love the 2 day DOMS ;-)

A big thanks to Sarah B for the support at the aid stations and driving us home.  Although she did desert us at a couple of aid stations to head off on some girly lunch date?!?!? (which if you ask me I'd estimate this probably cost us about 1 minute and 26 seconds (at least!) in logistical faff),  it was great to have the extra support.....

Until the next time!!