An Ode to 2014

D33 Finish:
Photo by Sandra McDougall

So 2014 is almost all gone,

The races are done, and the training goes on.
With plans now in place for 2015
What life is there left in my aging machine?
 

The D33, a new event for me this year,

Flat, mostly tarmac, it filled me with fear!
With no expectations I set off cautiously.
And to my great joy, finished beaming with glee!

 




Fling Finish:
Photo by Stuart MacFarlane

This year saw me tackle the Fling one more time,

A brilliant event, and goody bags with wine!
I climbed into Tyndrum, my body held out,
Down that finishing straight, and never in doubt!

 




WHW Ceremony:
Photo Clark Hamilton

The West Highland Way Race, the pinnacle of my year,

The training was full-on, through blood, sweat and tears.
Toe'd the line at Milngavie, full of excitement and dread,
"Next stop Fort William", whispered the yellow angel in my head!
 

A roller coaster of emotion, great highs and great lows

Why we put ourselves through this? Nobody knows!
With support from 'the family' and my No.1 crew
The goblet was mine, and the memories too!


Caroline & I at Lundavra on Devil
Photo Clark Hamilton

A last dance with the Devil; the Triple Crown in sight

I had to dig deep, body putting up a fight.
A good friend running with me, we kept up the pace,
The finish line beckoned, we'd finish our race!

Glenmore, and ‘the horn’ my last aim for this year

It didn’t go great, there were plenty of tears.

The body wasn’t willing, and the weather was hell!
Alas, I wasn't to hear that finishing bell.



Helen & I at start of Glenmore
Photo by David Mooney

Recovery took time, and the wine eased the pain

Lots of vitamins and rest - I will race again!
The Marcothon is a godsend to get me on track,
Going out in all weathers, my mojo is back!

Distractions aplenty, some days have been tough

And with 1 day to go, there’s been more smooth than rough.
A close to the year, no DNF for me!
I’m ready to come out fighting in January.



John & I at Lundavra on WHWR
Photo Clark Hamilton

Some goals are in place, some yet to confirm.

Training will be tough, I need to stay firm!
Cupboards full of good kit, I just need to get fit,
No grumbling or moaning, no reasons to quit.

 



Devil support
Photo by David Mooney

It’s been a great year of running, that much is true

With so many great friends, to keep pulling me through.
And my hubby beside me, spurring me on
There to pick up the pieces if something goes wrong.
 
2015 let’s see what you’ve got.
The mind is still willing, even if the body is not.
I’ll train smarter and harder to get myself fitter,
Because I love what I do, and I ain't no quitter!

Finding My Mojo

The Marcothon does different things for different folk.  It can make you or break you, and make you question 'WHY?' on many a cold, dark, wet morning when you're up before dawn to get the required miles done.

For me, it was about trying to get some of the spark back; that wee flicker of motivation that drags you out of bed to go training when the duvet is warm and inviting. I was also in dire need of trying to get my fitness level improved, and offset some of the over-indulgences, and we might come back to that later!

It has probably taken most of the month for me to get the mojo back, and I think it's finally here! The realisation has returned, that my body physically doesn't function well when it's fuelled with alcohol, sweeties and cheese, and carrying an extra stone of blubber around all the time; and that mentally, trying to get through the stress using a bucket full of caffeine is not a sustainable approach.  It's been fun though, and I think we all need some time off the disciplines every once in a while.  Now it's time for action though! (well, after the New Year actually as there's still a kitchen full of tasty stuff I'm going to have the pleasure of acquainting myself over the next week!)

A couple of other things this month have helped get me back on track.  

First was an unexpected 17 mile run with Glee last weekend from Braeval, Aberfoyle.  Arranged by Stan as a relaxed, social run, once-a-month-ish over winter, I'd gone along with the expectation of doing 10-15 miles maximum...and VERY slowly as this would be the furthest I'd run since Glenmore at the start of September.  A couple of others on the FB group had indicated they were also up for this...and then....*panic*....didn't come along on the day!  Not a great start, and I was ready to pack it in after the first couple of miles when most of the group (there were about 15 of us) set off at a decent pace, and appeared to be running all the hills (which were pretty steep).  Stan, Lorna and Donald stayed with me for a while, and seemed to be ok shuffling along at my pace.  We lost Donald to the faster group after about 6-ish miles, and I did then 'fess up that I was a bit worried about my pace and holding Stan and Lorna back.  Thankfully neither seemed too bothered, Stan reminding me several times that 'it's only December' and now was not the time I needed to be setting any speed records! (He did also say the route we were doing was only 13/14 miles...but I'll forgive him....).  The weather was good, the route undulating, and I never in a million years would have thought I'd have managed 17 when I set out that morning!  Felt great, albeit knackered at the end....I still managed a lap of the carpark to tip the Gamin over the 17 miles and appease my OCD!

The other major point in December was the ballot for the 2015 WHW Race entries. Having been lucky enough to be accepted last year, I was less hopeful this year as entry was over-subscribed by almost 100 places.  I felt much less on edge about the announcement this year (last year I was nervous from the moment I submitted my entry!)...However, on the Monday morning, the day after we knew the ballot had been drawn, I received a text from David Meldrum not long after I got to work.."you might want to go and check FB"....cue instant panic as I checked in on my phone....latest post from Ian Beattie..'blah blah...list of names...' followed by frantic scrolling...'I'm not on it, I'm not on it, WHY isn't it in alphabetical order??'.....pause, breathe...re-read the 'blah blah'.....oh cr*p, this is the balloted OUT entrants....scroll down...another post....'I'M ON THE LIST!!!!!!!'

Several swear words running through my head, and close to tears...I text Clark, I text Helen...I tried explaining to my team, who didn't truly understand my high pitched warbling....I went and sat in the toilets for 10 minutes...shaking with excitement.  We're in! 2015 challenge for my second WHW race goblet.  A challenge I'm proud and privileged to accept!  And if that doesn't motivate my to get off my fat ass and run, then nothing will!!

5 Marcothon runs left.  I'm already in my highest mileage month since June, and those 14,000 calories I've burned off running this month have to have offset some of the fun times! Most important of all is that I've got that mojo back.  No-one else can do this for me, and I'm back in the right place to kick myself into action!

Reflections on the year, and plans for 2015 to come before year end.  Enjoy the festivities, and a few extra days off to get out there and do something!!

We do run, run , run, The Marcothon

From Debbie MC on FB

Fear of missing out (FOMO say the 'kids')...it's a powerful thing...

I wasn't going to do the Marcothon this year, and I held my guns I think until 30th November....and then I caved!

I knew I needed something to motivate me, and whilst I did, was also conscious I was only on the first steps of recovery and didn't want to push myself too hard. On some days I was still suffering a bit - days after work had been particularly hard, or I'd taken on too much.  Even just some fairly 'easy' training was still in some instances causing some fairly interesting DOMS that I'm not really used to at that level of effort.  I considered some options - should I just try and do my own thing, and try 30 mins exercise each day. 

Photo from Helen & John Munro (copied from Daily Record)

And then I just decided to go for it!  The worst that could happen was a DNF (I failed in year 1, completed in year 2 last year).

The rules are up above, and some history of the event now in its 5th year, is in this link to an article in the Daily Record .




So here we are on day 14 - I'm still in!!  14 runs and 55 miles.  Not any massive shakes in terms of distance, and I'm not upset at that.  The vital thing for me is having a wee bit of mojo back; that stubborn streak that makes me want to complete!  

Cori perfecting 'suicide' look.  And this was
before we hit the knee deep drifts!

And I've also had some nice runs so far this month - including a nice snowy yomp across the Ochils from Frandy fishery in Glendevon to Blackford - eternally gratefully that Clark is a 'willing' chauffeur to drive me into the wilderness and drop me off.  Yesterday he got 'revenge' by sneaking up the hill from the Blackford side to hide in the heather and ambush me and Cori dog with snowballs!!

Almost half way through the Marcothon then, and the weather can't get any worse?!  We've had snow, ice, gales and not much sunshine....what doesn't kill us makes us stronger!!

The weird sink hole in the top reservoir.  My route goes
up behind those trees and off over the shoulder.

The Facebook group is great for motivation - I love seeing how many folk post that they're out because the CBA or think the weather is too rough, only to receive a flurry of 'motivational' comments and then an hour later be posting about how great they feel having been out and done it!

Here's to the next couple of weeks, injury free, with smiles on our faces and the wind on our backs!  

For me, I'm hoping this re-boots the mojo for good, and provides a sound base for the January focus on structured training, healthy food, and no alcohol!!

An Evening of Adventure

I was lucky enough this week to attend an event I won tickets at through work - hosted by the Black Grouse, an evening of adventure with Ben Fogle, Sir Ranulph Fiennes, Olly Hicks and Kenton Cool.  What a great privilege it was to hear them share some of their experiences, and to understand how they've gone through (more on the mental side), some feelings that touched very close to home for me.

I'll confess a couple of things...I have a wee crush on Ben Fogle...and I'd not heard of 2 of those presenters before the event, so here's a little more about them..

Kenton Cool - wow - I have a new crush on him now!  And I would highly recommend going to hear him speak if you ever get the chance.  As his website says, 'energetic, entertaining, inspiring', and close to tears with emotion at one point!  He's successfully climbed Everest 11 times and is one of the world's leading mountain guides.  He was honest, humble, funny, and not at all 'up himself' with what he has achieved!

Olly Hicks was the youngest person to row solo across the Atlantic from USA to UK in 2005, surviving 124 days on his own - and not giving up on his dream (he almost had a companion, but after a dispute on which way to cross the Atlantic, Olly stuck to his intentions to start in the USA, and went solo!).  He retold his adventure in an unassuming and understated manner - making jokes about being short and ginger, and along with all 4 of them claims to be pretty 'thick' and that's why they all turned to adventure!  He said he quite enjoyed the solitude, after having partied hard with his friends for a few years before hand.

Ben Fogle I'm sure most of you know was one of the participants in one of the early 'reality' shows - Castaway.  Stuck on the Scottish island of Taransay for a year with 32 others.  He's gone on to do many (often televised) adventures, often with James Cracknell (who I have mixed opinions on).  He was the host for the evening, and 'interviewed' the others with some pre-set questions, and others from the audience, whilst also sharing some of his tales of adventure.

And Ranulph Fiennes, probably needs no introduction.  Again, I was struck by how unassuming he was.  I had some pre-conceptions that he was going to be a bit pompous (having tried on a couple of occasions to read Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know, and not really got on with it).  Hearing how he and his late wife spent years searching for a lost village, and years working in bars trying to live and raise funds for expeditions, without any airs and graces, was really quite humbling and inspiring.  How many of us give up on dreams when they seem so difficult to achieve?

It was a captivating couple of hours, with the audience hanging on the words of all 4 speakers. The time just flew by. For me, aside from the extremeness of some of their achievements, a couple of things really struck home.

When talking about what was better, the journey of preparation, or the event itself, they spoke very openly about a sense of 'bereavement' when the challenge was completed, often after months or years of fundraising, training and endeavor.  It was comforting to hear that even people at that level of awesomeness still suffer the same feelings some of us mere mortals do, and that really resonated with how I felt in the aftermath of the WHW this year.

Another question was around what was more important, the mental or the physical preparation.  To which at least two of them answered, neither, it's actually about having the correct kit!  I do like a bit of new kit...however, also appreciate that when something 'works', it has to be a keeper!  There was also a valid point about not doing months and months of training solely in the discipline in which you will compete - Olly Hicks spoke about there being 'little point' spending all his time on a rowing machine, when he was about to have nothing else but rowing to do for the 124 day expedition!  A good lesson in cross-training... And while I'm not dismissing mental and physical preparation as vital parts of what we need to do, it was funny to hear that these elite guys place extremely high value on good kit!

I'm sure there were many more tales and inspiration I should remember and share.  Suffice to say, I came away enthused and optimistic....a great end to a Monday which had seen the results of the WHW race ballot for 2015 announced!  Goblet number 2, I'm coming to get you!!

Suck it up, buttercup

Repeat after me "suck it up buttercup, suck it up buttercup".....nope, still didn't work...

It won't come as new news to anyone who has cared enough to pay any attention over the last ten / eleven weeks that I've not been in a happy place with my training and health. 

And I've not blogged since my Glenmore escapades as I primarily didn't have the energy, and secondarily, didn't know where to start or what to say.

I spent a good few weeks fighting the onslaught of a cold, which would come on one day and improve the next, I got more and more fatigued, and then it all caught up with me, and week days consisted of trying to get through a day at work before heading home and hitting the sofa and an early bed. 

Weekends were a sorry time, when the heart wanted to be out doing 'something', and the body and head refused.  I was starting to liken myself to a wee old lady that got taken for a wee 'drive out' of an afternoon..and I struggled to stay awake for the short drives in the countryside Clark would insist I went on.

I was eating a load of veg...kale and spinach with everything (I was supplementing it with plenty sugary stuff I shouldn't have been munching as well, thinking I needed it to give me a boost, and the odd wee hot toddy to fight the germs...), and plenty of paracetamol.  No joy.

So I caved, and went to the doctors.  I spent about 40 minutes at my first appointment scaring the bejeezus out of the medical student, who clearly wasn't anticipating, or experienced at dealing with, my tale of woe first thing in the morning....And most of you reading this will know what it's like trying to explain 'I'm a runner...long distance....I dropped out of my last race after 12.5 hours having only run 56 miles....'.  It just doesn't compute with a lot of folk.  And trying to add context of 'I know I should be tired after my race, but not this exhausted, this IS different...'......met with more blank expression. 

What she did get quite hung up on was that I was miserable about the whole situation...and clearly from this, it was more interesting to try and diagnose me with depression than it was to understand what was causing the extreme fatigue. Cue ongoing spiral of questioning about whether I was "still able to enjoy the things I usually enjoy?"..."no, I'm too tired...can you help explain the tiredness so I can go running please??".  I get that they need to cover the options, but I'm not the kind of girl who would rather sit on the sofa all the time, rather than be outside!  Normally when I'm a bit tired or run-down I go for a wee run to get the endorphin boost to recharge the batteries!

Eventually another doctor joined us, and decided blood tests were order of the day...well, not that day....please make an appointment....in 10 days time when the nurse is next available!!??

And so, no sign of improvement and no sign of cause being uncovered anytime soon....I decided to start topping up the vitamin dosage...a multi-vitamin, a cod-liver oil with extra A & D (apparently loads of us Scots are deficient in Vit D), and some Green Magic (special superfood powdered blend of spirulina and all sorts of stuff designed to help immunity and health)...also started on First Defense, and using anti-bac hand gel to try and keep any further germs at bay!), and using my Lumie sunrise alarm in the mornings!  Every little helps??!!

Bloods taken, and results arrive...all clear.  Good I guess.....if somewhat disappointing there was nothing to point a finger at.  I went back to see the doc, and that was a pretty clear waste of time....
Doc: "there's nothing in the blood results, there's nothing else I can do"
Me: "I wasn't making this up, you understand that?"
Doc: "did you complete the depression questionnaire?"
Me: "No, I explained I was only miserable as I'm not training, because I'm exhausted, and I disagree with filling in a questionnaire which is so blatantly structured in a way it is easy to understand how the results are analysed, and could easily be skewed"  (nb...I'm an analyst...and have spent considerable years designing questionnaires and research)
Doc: "I'm not sure what else there is to say..."
Me: "So you think I should just suck it up and get on with it"
Doc: *nods*..."what we usually suggest in these situations is that you try some exercise..."
Me: <exits>

So, we are where we are I guess....trying to suck it up....taking baby steps and trying to rebuild one wee bit at a time, test and learn...and hoping no-one and nothing knocks the cards down, as I tentatively replace each one...

I've done a little training...and it's not been easy...things are hurting more than they "should", and the DOMS are interestingly bad after even a 3 or 6 mile run...


And it's taken a while to come round to writing this up.  I wanted to do it for a couple of reasons.  
Primarily, because I've tried to be open and honest in the rest of my blogging, I wanted to continue to tale.  
Second, because I'm not sure we always hear the stories of 'when things go wrong'.  

Social media is full of posts on a daily and hourly basis of everyone out having a 'GREAT training run', 'an AWESOME race'...PB's and running further, faster, higher, harder than they did the day before, or that morning.  

Running is hugely accessible, with marathons and ultras increasingly popular.  Many of the Scottish races selling out within hours of entries opening.  The ultra community is brilliant - everyone is so welcoming and sharing - there are training runs up and down the country every weekend where runners welcome you in, and embrace you as a friend.  

And I'm not knocking that!  I've met some true friends through running and ultras, and been inspired by so many amazing achievements and dedication, both those running, and those who give up their time to support, crew, marshal and organize the great races I've had the pleasure to be part of.

What is a challenge or risk...and maybe something I've fallen into the 'trap' this year to a small extent is that there's an increasing environment of people needing to do more, all the time.  Driving people to enter races when they've not got any 'history' to support their step-up to such big distances, or to enter more races each year than they have time to recover from the last.  I always say there's no hiding place in a marathon and that is compounded ten-fold when you get to an event like the Fling, the Devil, Great Glen etc

Damage isn't always visible on the outside, nor does it always manifest itself in pain of the sort that stops you training.  I'm a sports massage therapist, so I'm somewhat qualified to pass opinion here. Sometimes it's the things you can't see or feel that are the most disruptive or destructive....and that's my final thoughts.  

Take care people, and don't just keep jumping on the bandwagon.  Our health is something we must respect, and the races will be there for many years to come.  
Serve your time, do the training and build up through the distances.  And don't neglect the opportunity to marshal or crew...you'll be surprised what an eye-opener that can be!!

2015 plans are in the offing.  More on that some other day....

D N F

The rain was bucketing from the heavens, it was after midnight, I'd been running for over 12 hours, I felt like sh!t.....I knew it was over.  Lap 14 had been a misery fuelled shuffle, and mostly power march round the course, dropping my average pace below where I needed it to be at that stage, and dropping my core temperature to sub-zero, whilst fighting the voices in my head.

This was totally not the plan, and I'm not generally a quitter.  Even the best prepared runners cannot guarantee that everything will come good on race day, and I had a few reasons for failure this time around.

Photo of base camp swamp by Cat Adams

Some idea of the massive hailstones

Our tent after the hail (photo by Clark)

To put things into some perspective before I continue my tale of woe, I did manage to cover 56 miles in 12 hours 35mins, in some of the most horrendous conditions.

Clark and I travelled up on Friday afternoon, having packed what seemed like the entire contents of our house into the car again this year (having a few days holiday after the race is a great idea but means there's a need for wetsuits, bike gear.....).  Thankfully, Helen and John were lending us one of their spare tents again, so 'home' was already in place when we arrived (interestingly close to the portaloos...which hadn't been in situ when they had pitched up!). 

We'd also had to make an emergency stop on the way up to get my pirate fancy dress outfit after the place I'd first ordered from had let me down!

The weather was ok on the drive up, and we were hopefully for favourable conditions like last year, despite the forecast... However, that was not to be....

We went into Aviemore for some good scoff, and then back up to the pirate party for a short while.  I was still feeling pretty wiped out from the bug I'd had the prior weekend/week and after a hard week at work, I'm always ready for a friday sleep.  In hindsight, ideally I'd have taken some sick leave from work when I had been feeling ropey.  The battle in my head was that it was a bit rich to take time off sick and then go on holiday with the aim of running 100 miles, so I opted to try and ride the illness out.  At the end of the day, work is unfortunately the priority, and running 'only' a hobby....

I didn't get much sleep Friday night.  It was really cold, so I whacked on my massive down coat and that helped.  I woke with a really sore throat though, which I did put down to the cold, clear air...popped a couple of paracetamol, and hoped it wasn't anything more serious.

Me & Helen before the start (photo by David Mooney)

After some breakfast, race prep and general fannying around I tried to get some more rest before the race briefing. And with 5 minutes to the start, I almost forgot to pin on my number (risking the wrath of Ada from the outset! Pheeew!).  I was feeling ok at this point. My throat was still a bit rough.  Nothing I thought I couldn't run off...

I ran the first lap mostly with Kerry Sweeney and had a good blether.  Timing wise was ok and it felt good to be started. I made sure I lapped my Garmin at the start/finish, and pulled into my support tent for some juice and snacks.  The plan being to eat and drink at every passing (including taking water at the 2 mile aid tent each lap).  The fuelling plan went well, and throughout most of the time I remained in the race, I ate well and had no issues - taking on haribo, tea, coffee, Clark's magic pork and chorizo casserole, coke, cheese, ginger beer, squash, fruit, a couple of chocolate coffee beans...only one gel, and no Nuun.  The one thing that didn't agree with me was a Food Doctor Cous Cous pot, which I'd enjoyed last year!

End of Lap 4 (photo by Clark)

The rain eased off at the end of my third lap I think...by this point I was soaked through.  Clark made me leave my jacket to try and dry it out, while I went off for another lap in my long sleeved.  This was wet through and I changed it (and the t-shirt I had on underneath!) for a short sleeved for lap 5 as the conditions looked to be improving.

Lap 5 was a head burster, and that was before the hail storm just as I finished it.  I'm actually starting to think that I actually only really get into an event after about 25-30 miles, and I sure wasn't feeling the love at this point.  I think I'd taken a couple more paracetamol at the start of the lap as my throat was still sore, and my left ankle was starting to make grumbling noises at me. I was trying to play mind games with myself like 'top 5 favourite Kylie songs (don't judge me!!)....

 After a couple of coffee beans and some coke at the end of this lap I did have a wee resurrection though and felt quite chipper for a good few laps.  I'd also decided I was going to start counting the laps downwards rather than up...so lap 6 was actually lap 20, lap 7 was lap 19 etc..and this was quite motivating (when I could actually remember which lap I was on).  The thunder on lap 6 was a bit scary pants time (thankfully I didn't see the lightening), as it rattled right down the glen and seemed to linger for ages....

And so it went on.  I wasn't at all enjoying the first section of the course this year.  The first section through the trees was water logged, and I just couldn't find the fun.  I enjoyed the hill after the aid station (which as usually was manned all through by singing, dancing, motivational folk), and I was enjoying the long downhill for most of my time out there.  In my head, each lap was 'done' when I got to the corner at the top of the downhill (which is weird, as that's still over a mile to the actual end..).

Yes, he did wear that outfit for the whole race!
And apparently wasn't feeling the cold the rest of us were!

I stuck my music on for lap 7, despite the fear my iphone might drown, even in a plastic bag. This was earlier than expected but did help, as I wasn't really seeming to be in pace with anyone for long, and other than a few quite pleasantries, there is a lot of 'quality' time with the voices in your head.  I only had one wee happy crying wobble (just before Johnny Fling, eventual winner of the guys race, passed me) whilst listening along to Dolly Parton..

I've chased after rainbows
I've captured one or two
I've reached for the stars
I've even held a few
I've walked that lonesome valley
Topped the mountain, sowed the sky
I've laughed and I have cried
But I have always tried

I've always been a dreamer
And dreams are special things
But dreams are of no value
If they're not equipped with wings
So secure yourself for climbing
Make ready for the flight
Don't let your chance go by
You'll make it if you try

So try to be the first one up the mountain
And try to be the first to touch the sky
And try to be the one who makes a difference
Try to put your fear and doubt aside
And try to make the most of every moment
'Cause if you never try you never win
So try each day to try a little harder
And if you fall, get up and try again

Nothing is impossible
If you can just believe
Don't live your life in shackles
When faith can be the key
The winner's one who keeps determination in his eyes
Who's not afraid to fly and not afraid to try

So try to be the first one up the mountain
And try to be the first to touch the sky
And try to count your blessings and keep counting
And try to soar where only eagles fly
And if you fail at first just keep on trying
For you are not a failure in God's eyes
The first step is the one that's always hardest
But you won't amount too much if you don't try
So spread your wings and let the magic happen
Cause you'll never really know if you don't try

(Read more: Dolly Parton - Try Lyrics | MetroLyrics )

The end of the 12 hour race (photo by Clark)

So, where did it all go wrong those of you who have read this far might be asking??

A combination of things - some I felt I could have controlled and those I couldn't.

I went over on my left ankle several times on the last 3-4 laps.  Some of this was to do with trying to avoid the puddles...I stopped doing that, yet still had some wobbles.  This ankle has been a wee bit jippy since WHW.  Can't find anything majorly muscularly wrong, despite rest, rehab, massage etc, and I managed to run through it with no trouble at other events and in the training runs I have done.  It just felt more unstable and more painful on Saturday night.

My right knee seemed to be imploding on the downhill 3 laps from the end.  This is the knee that I damaged my medial ligament about 5 years ago doing BodyPump and didn't do the right (i.e. rest and rehab) thing at the time and was one of the contributing factors to my stopping running completely 4/5 years ago, getting fat, and deciding (and then being told by the physio) I was never going to run distances again....

These 2 things were the biggest factors I wasn't prepared to risk. Ending up out of action with considerable muscle/ligament/joint/whatever damage is not part of any long term objective on my list!

I was cold and wet...this was in my control (partially) to get over or deal with.
It seemed darker than I thought it should be (even with my fabulous headtorch and a handheld). 
I was moving too slowly, and slowing too early in the race to make the 100 achievable.
At the end of lap 12, I felt over-whelmingly sick.  Not just tired, nausea sick, but proper vomitty sick.  For no apparent reason.  I'd been eating and drinking well, and it literally just hit me in the space of a few seconds and didn't go away.  Had there not been the compounding factors of the knee and ankle I would have run on with the sickness.  There's no shortage of tales of runners puking and getting on with it.  I could have done that..  
History....I have DNF'd once before...in the Edinburgh Marathon the year it ran from Dunfermline into Edinburgh...I'd been unwell the week before....I started to lose speed about 4 miles in....and DNF at about mile 8.....I then ended up off work for about 8-10 weeks with post-viral fatigue.  A repeat of this is also not a viable option I wanted to explore again!  Not for my sake, nor Clark's..nor my employer!

Lap 14 I mostly walked to try and MTFU and get out of the dark place.  I just couldn't.  

The compounding factor for me was missing the 100.  I knew that the rate I was slowing it was no longer a goal I could deliver. It was unlikely that when the light returned I would suddenly get pain free and a burst of speed.  And with that, and all the other voices in my head, it was sensible to call it a day and not risk damaging myself to go any further than the 56.  And I don't say that with any disrespect to the distances everyone ran, it was purely that was what I was hoping to achieve.

It was no easy decision.  Supporters were all cheering as I went through the lap again 'You're going well, looking strong' and yet I knew I was done.  Clark was there, in the rain, as he had been every single lap, ready to feed and water me.  Clearly, I did the usual, and burst into tears, sobbing about putting him through 2 nights camping in a swamp for me to let him down.  As you might imagine, he offered comfort and no criticism (yes, there have been cheeky comments since), and bundled me into the tent to get warm, dry clothes.  Noanie was passing, and I was able to ask her to tell the race crew I was DNF-ing so I didn't have to face that trauma.  She briefly tried to convince me to have a wee sleep and do some more, but I knew I was done.

I climbed into my sleeping bag with every single item of dry clothing I had left on, and tried to convince the dog to cuddle in against me.  I was stinking.  I didn't sleep (god, there wasn't even that 'reward'!).  Everytime I lay down I wanted to puke, and the irritating post-race cough had commence...cough, cough, vomit?

I shed a wee tear each time I heard the horn go for someone breaking the 100 mile barrier. Such respect for everyone who did that, as well as everyone who stayed out, or went back out and carried on.  This year, it just wasn't for me.

Photo by John Kynaston
(Pete Hunter PH, me and Aurel)

I eventually got up, tried to eat, wandered around aimlessly, mostly feeling like complete sh!t, and getting worse.  I felt a bit pathetic for dropping out, especially seeing the effort on the faces of those still going.  I felt ill more than I felt pathetic though.  I must have made the 'right' choice.

Watching the 24 hour runners finish was brilliant.  As the end drew near, the determination grew stronger to complete times, distances or just persevere.  Some (Helen!) even had time to change back into some of their fancy dress outfits from Friday night!  It won't come as any surprise to know I shed a few more tears!

Helen managed a wee can-can on one of her final laps

We didn't last to the prize giving.  My health was going downhill pretty fast, and I'd gone blue, despite the 5 layers of kit I had on.  I just had to get into a shower, and bed!

What went well?
- Feeding strategy (ate/drank every lap with a good variety of sweet/savoury)
- Support (Clark remains awesome, and thank you to John who was mostly there too, and to everyone else who cheered me on either as support crew for others, or as part of the race team)
-Shoes (wore my new Hoka Stinson ATR).  No blisters, no problems.
- Garmin (didn't need charged...ha ha ha..)
- Kit (wore my xbionic 3/4 tights and boxers, compressport calf sleeves, Dirty Girl gaiters, Haglofs jacket, drymax socks to start and new Wigwam socks (soft as a kiss from a new puppy) after about 6/7 laps)

What did I learn?
- Maybe this was a case of FOMO (fear of missing out).  It has been a big year, and I've achieved things I never believed were possible (right from running almost 95 miles at last year's Glenmore to be fair).  This was maybe an effort too much in a space of time since WHW which has seen me complete the DOTH and a 32 mile 10 hour walk.  Too many periods of recovery between events and lack of consistent training not my favourite training plan.
- DNF - Did Not Finish...but maybe also Did Not Fail?  56 miles, 12 hrs 35ish...not a shabby day out?  Or as Clark has just put it "You did finish, you just finished early".
- Dolly Parton wrote/sings some surprisingly motivational songs....

Ha ha

So, now we're at Tuesday.  I'm sitting in a lovely rented house in Aviemore, relaxing.  Last night I sounded like I had pneumonia, today it feels more like man-flu.  Clearly something was fighting inside me stronger than my immunity.  Hopefully a rest this week will shift it. And I know my legs need time to recover too.  They're not protesting at all now (maybe the CurraNZ do ease DOMS?!) but I didn't study all that anatomy and physiology stuff for nothing...hidden wounds take time to heal too.

Still feeling pretty sorry for myself for the DNF.  Deep down I know it was the right decision. Part of the resting and healing will be dealing with that choice.  I still received a medal and race beer for participating.  DNF and 56 miles...total contradiction in my head!

Live, learn, move on.  Glenmore 24, and other races will be there for many years to come. 2014 was not my time to achieve the 100.  Some day it might be.

The box of frogs, the cow bell and the horn

Kinda like 'The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe' but far less comprehensible...

The box of frogs represents how I've been feeling....maybe it's taperitis, maybe it's lurgy...I'm siding with the latter for now...

Since Friday I've been feeling wobbly, a bit shaky and nauseous.  It's a bit better today. Not ideal when it's 5 sleeps (4 if you discount Friday night in a tent in the middle of a pirate party....).  These things are sent to test us though, and get on with it I will.

I think there's still an element of rehab in how I'm feeling too.  I'm not sure race/rest/race/rest is the best plan for me (see previous blogs for bleating on about eating for Britain in the down-time and still not getting the head back into shifting my post-WHW blubber).  I'd just got that spark back last Monday and was dancing about in the land of motivation and training. Pah!

I tried a wee run on Saturday, slow, shuffly, and was ok until anytime I stopped moving, and the shakes resumed.  Hey ho, afternoon on the sofa and a cancelled night out.  Sad times.  

A wee cold water dip on Sunday morning as it was like summer was back.  You can't really call it swimming yet...more just testing the water. Loch Chon was beautiful though...until the midge fest started!  My logic was that the cold water would attack the germs!

I've also been testing some new immunity supplements - Curranz - 100% New Zealand Blackcurrants.  Normal folk should take one a day...athletes 2 before exercise....There's not been much exercise but I'm opting for taking two a day, just to be sure.... Let's see if they can prop me back up!

The cow bell represents the inspiration I've had this last week, following tales of friends and legends as they take on the races making up the UTMB series.  Theirs are not my story to tell, so I won't...but WOW...epic views, epic running and epic guts from all, whether they made it to the finish line or not.

I've thrown it out there...I'd love to be there next year, if I can get fit enough (surely that's within the realms of possibility..or was this year a fluke?), and I've already asked for the time off work!

Ada...the angel with the horn

And The Horn.  This weekend coming sees the final of this year's big aims.  My second stab at Glenmore 24 - the delight that is an event of multiple 4 mile laps around one of my favouritist places for the small matter of 24 hours.

This year, I'm aiming for 'the horn'.  That special moment that signifies you've hit the 100 mile mark.  100 miles!  Holy moly!!

Last year, I did just short of 95 miles...with an aim of 80, and a wee lie down in the wee small hours of the darkness.  It's 'easy' to look back now and say 'what if' and 'why'.  At the time, I know I needed that lie down.  This year, I'm hoping I don't.  Hoping that the mind overcomes the body and keeps me motoring (in a slow dignified shuffly kind of way) right through until the goal is reached.  We'll see...I'm broadly siding with the positive....

It's been a big old year, not to be sneezed at.  Massive achievements and there needs to be time to reflect.  Lots has been learned, and next year's plan adapted accordingly.  There are some niggles and areas to address over the winter.  But for now, Glenmore, I'm coming to get ya!