And now for something slightly different

(and some guy by the name of Bragg...)


A while back, my brother decided he was going to enter the Dorset Doddle...he lives near the route, he does a lot of walking (and cycling) and he wanted a big challenge.

It took me a while to stop fannying around, and eventually I signed up, got flights booked, relying on his generosity to house me, feed me and entertain me for the weekend (which he did without question)!

Timing wise, it was an interesting one...2 weeks after the Devil, a week after the Johnny Fling party and 3 weeks before Glenmore 24....so somewhere in between rest, rehab, training and tapering.  

Pre Selfie on Weymouth promenade

And I was kinda worried that Scott was going to whip my ass....whilst I do some walking during ultra's, I'm not used to walking 32 miles.....I don't have walking shoes, so I wore my Hoka's...and I opted for the southern softy option of walking poles as these were allowed.  I've never done much walking/any events with poles, and I do think they made a significant difference...not least because my left ankle is still a wee bit twingy and I think they helped take the weight (which is still above my tolerance levels) off...

The day before, I was pretty tired...we had a lovely relaxed potter around Sherborne and some coffee/cake, and then home for a disco nap, before a wee 'warm up' walk around the Maiden Castle ruins and then a big scoff to fuel us up for the next day.

Looking back from where we came

The 9am start was fairly civilised as events go, and we had plenty of time for a pre-event selfie, some chit chat with guys Scott knew, and to eye up the competition. These mostly consisted of efficient looking "mature" walkers and a fair collection of runners. I didn't feel any twinges of desire to be running.  
I wasn't expecting to see anyone I recognised. Turns out the event was won, and a new course record set, by some guy called Jez Bragg...ooops!  Ultra running royalty in our midst, and he wasn't even on my radar to look out for!  If only I'd known, I could've got all star struck!

Durdle Door (Dumble Door)

With very little pomp and ceremony, the event started (the organiser pretty much said "if you did it last year, the course is different this year" and then stood down....jeez, helpful!).  The runners shot off along the sea front, and the walkers power marched off and what seemed an unsustainable pace (I was worried!).  Thankfully we eventually settled into a steady, brisk march and the field thinned out pretty quickly (there had been 280 on the entry list).

The course was beautiful, and mostly right along the coast (in places, a little too close to the cliff edge and with no fence for my liking!), with unbroken views out to sea.  

The weather was mostly fine - a fairly stiff breeze (mostly behind us, but at points sidey-ways with a risk of being blown down a cliff!), warm, with a few welcome drizzle showers.

The middle stretch of the course was tough, as billed.  Several steep climbs and descents in rapid succession.

This did lead to some interesting high heart rate readings (who says HRMs are a good idea), with Scott's best idea for lowering his being to crash out flat on the grass.... This did lead to one of the other walkers giving me a row for abandoning him on one of the climbs, while I stood at the top waiting for an opportune near death photo!

Killer stairs - steeper than the
photo suggests!

 With a target time of 10hrs 40m (based on 20 minute mile average) we marched on, with only a few briefs rests for fluids at the checkpoints.  These were disappointing short of cakes/foods supplies, something many people had suggested (along with the low entry fee) as being a key benefit of the LDWA events! (there was some food at the finish but not on the course)

Luckily, we had packed a brilliant picnic - the most awesome sourdough, cheese and ham sarnies, chia charge bars, Mrs Tilly's and an assortment of gels, haribo and pretzels.  We certainly weren't going to be hungry!  And in hindsight, Scott was probably carrying an extra half stone in supplies!  It was an interesting experience actually feeling hungry and able to eat during an event - mostly in ultra's it's more forcing stuff in without actually having the desire for it!

We did get slightly lost a couple of times (the course isn't way marked, you just get an A4 sheet with some instructions and grid references (which would be useful if we'd had a map)).  Our tactic was to follow those who 'knew' where they were going...apparently, even the uncommunicative chap who'd allegedly done the event 20 times, didn't actually know the route....Hmmmm....

That said, we stormed to the finish at Swanage in a target busting 10hrs 5 minutes.  Sweaty, stinky, tanned and dirty.....and well pleased with our efforts!  

Post Event Selfie

I'm especially proud of Scott for his achievements - the furthest he'd ever walked was 17.5 miles (and that was without the company of an ultra runner with walking poles...ha ha ha....take no prisoners!), and he persevered through historic knee issues up and down some ridiculously vertical ascents and descents!  Me?  I already know I'm a stubborn bugger....

Garmin Link

Stubborn

The post-race honeymoon lasted a bit longer than perhaps it should have.

There was the 'recovery' week...lots of chilling on the sofa, a cheeky wee spa day at Gleneagles, a great girls day out in Edinburgh with my sis-in-law telling everyone who'd listen that I'd run the WHW the weekend before, while I knocked back several cocktails and a fair amount of bubbles...

West Beach - Berneray

Following this, there was the 'hospital' week, which saw me back to work, Clark go under the knife, and my head be all over the place. A few wee 2-3 mile shuffles to exercise the dog, but nothing much.  

Thankfully the operation went well, and then week 3 saw us off on holiday to Berneray for some R&R in the sunshine.  No, my tan didn't come out of a bottle!

And then back to work again before another few days off for a wedding.

Pretty much naff all training and a considerable amount of eating and drinking (well, I'd been almost on the wagon for several months....), this was not doing my waist-line or my mental state any good!

And (having spent some time analyzing and trying to deconstruct myself), there's a thought that actually there's a part of this process a little like grieving.  For 2 years, almost every waking thought and decision was about completing the WHW race.  

Now it's done.  It's feels AMAZING, and sureal, and a little like WOW, if I can do THAT, then....  

But it's gone....nothing can take away the achievement, but there's a void where all that training happened, and all that thinking and control was..... (and before anyone says it, training for next year doesn't need to start in earnest...yet)

Even the thought of the impending Devil of the Highlands and the Triple Crown (completing all 3 races on WHW in the same year) couldn't seem to spark the motivation.  Resting after something so epic and traumatic for your body as the WHW is vital. Sometimes it's not about physical pain and scars, there is damage you cannot see or feel, and you need to be mindful of this and not try to carry on like everything is "normal". Maybe I've been a little too mindful?  Or maybe, actually sensible?

Me, Alan & David at the start

So, 6 weeks after WHW saw me arrive at the start line for the Devil.  The longest training run I'd done since was 10 miles.  I'd given the race-day prep very little consideration, and on the whole was pretty relaxed about it.

That's by no means suggesting I thought it was a done deal.  43 miles and some of the toughest WHW climbs is a BIG deal, no matter what.  Be this the first, third or tenth time you've done it, there's no guarantee that even if your training was 100% successful, that you'll complete.  And doing it so close to WHW is not ideal timing.  

I'm just a stubborn, ambitious kinda donkey. I'd decided early on, that if I was to do WHW, I'd try and do the Triple Crown...I may never get the chance again....

There felt to me like there was a 'different' atmosphere about the Devil this year.  There wasn't the same buzz at By The Way the night before and many of the 'regulars' didn't seem to be around that evening, or on race day.  I know there has been a lot of 'healthy debate' about the event, and I'm not going to get into that here.  I think that's a contributor to how this felt though.  And, in honesty, I think this will have been my final run of the 'official' DOTH event, so maybe I felt strange because of that.

Caroline and I approaching Bridge of Orchy

A good number of faces were there to share hello's, last minute panics, and good wishes at registration. I caught up with Caroline...a good friend, who I was lucky enough to share one of the other most amazing running adventures of my life with, 9 years ago when we ran the Chasqui Challenge in Peru (that's a flashback blog for me to write some lonely winters night!).  

A wee sit down at Glencoe

And as fate transpired, we ended up running the whole Devil together - an unplanned turn of events which I believe worked beautifully in both our favours.  We started at the back (my usual outcome) and gradually picked our way along the route.  

At Lundavra (post Red Bull)

The weather gods were kind to us, and when I felt low (pretty much from Glencoe to Jeff's rescue point high on Lairig), Caroline was strong and motivating, and hopefully vice versa (maybe not after Lundavra when I'd had a can of Red Bull and a ton of Kendal Mint cake and got the smell of the finish.....).

My head and body struggled in the middle stretch. Caroline is great at climbing, with many years of munro's in her legs.  I think the WHW was still in mine, and mentally, I wasn't doing the race for the 'right' reasons....and the last time I'd been there, was a whole different ball-game, but most of those memories are still sharply etched across my body.

The finish!

That aside, the end result was success, and elation!  We'd done it, and notched up a very tidy 10hrs 11 minutes to boot!  And we only got wet in the last 4-5 miles!

I'm not going to review the race in anymore detail than that. 

On reflection, for some lessons.....

• Fuelling, I didn't get quite right again this time.  I think the humidity played a part there.
• Kendal Mint Cake was a great addition though.
• Nuun maybe isn't the right fluid in all situations (or I've gone off the flavours I have...)
• Kit, worked well.  Especially saw benefit of the arm sleeves - pulling up and down, rather than on/off. Others are starting to compete for my purple domination though!

A few of the usual suspects having an
impromptu dinner in Real Food Cafe on the way home

I'm delighted with what I've achieved so far this year, and sometimes when I think about it, it just seems crazy....I AM one of those CRAZIES I used to joke about how bonkers they were...

And it's been done with amazing support, and an amazing bunch of friends, who are there for you, every step of the way!

So, what's next?  Well, I've done quite a lot more recovery....wine, cheese, sweeties are all very close friends again....I'm carrying about half a stone more than I'd like (that I need to kick into touch)....and there's a few more events to see me through the next few months.  This weekend I'm off to the South Coast to complete the LDWA Dorset Doddle 32 mile walking event with my brother...course profile looks suitably scary..... And then it's time for Glenmore 24 (and the pre-race pirate party?!?!), and rounding off the year (hopefully) with the Glen Ogle 33(ish).

Not forgetting, last weekend saw Johnny Fling's infamous party....hmmm....maybe there's a whole blog to be written about that.....