Wednesday, 6 May 2015

Thames Path 100 the ultimate DNF

Th ultimate DNF is how I have taken to describing the experience this weekend at the Centurion Running Thames Path 100 mile Ultra marathon. it was supposed to be flat, easy, a little bit muddy in places and all that other stuff you read about in other reports and actually trust.

The reality was a little different......

The first 50-60 miles are very runnable and I was glad to be using road shoes as this helped me in getting a great start at hitting the 50 mile point in 10.00 which gave me loads of time to do the 2nd half or so I thought.

Training had not been ideal for this race. I had concentrated too much on my athletes and getting them to a finish in Barcelona Marathon. It wasn't anyone's fault except my own and I knew deep down I hadn't respected the distance as much as I should have. Having completed the South Downs Way 100 in 2012 in 24.08 I had an idea of what it would take to finish sub 24 hours and I believed I had it in me.

I would rely on my stupidity, stubbornness and a sprinkling of Irish lunacy to get me there. I had trained for 2 years at heart rate and knew I would be in good shape in terms of speed without causing myself any trauma.

A little too much wine, cheese, crisps etc in the weeks and months leading up to the race meant I was over my ideal weight but not that bad.

I had learn to use fat as fuel and had many 3-4 hour runs on nothing but a cup of coffee prior to the run and a few sips of water during the run so I knew how to tap into my Chateauneuf du pape gut and use that vital fat to fuel me.

I ran the first 50 on a few hand full's of nuts and seeds and a few sips of water. I later realised that I was getting dehydrated as the sun was out a bit and my lovely Irish skin was burning, mixed with some red urine I knew I had to start hydrating and fast. The hell with Tim Noakes and drink to thirst, I had done that and was now having issues. Maybe I wasn't hydrated enough before the race and a few beers the night before and a bottle of wine two nights before probably didn't help. Getting lost a few times didn't help the mindset but It was under control and I only ran around 2-3 bonus miles.

I picked up my first pacer Lisa at the 50 mile point and we had a good laugh as we took off. I was now on the run 25 and walk 5 mins strategy and we used this to good effect. The pace was fine and I still felt good apart from a sore right knee and a very strange feeling in what I thought was my left adductor. It was causing me pain when running and walking which was odd.

Pacer No.2 2 was Donna and under my orders of just talk shit to me and don't expect conversation she did a great job. We learnt a lot about each other and had a real laugh.

Pacer No.3 was Tina who is a bit like a female James Bond but I can't tell you any more than that. Needless to say the conversations was really interesting and kept my mind off the growing pain in my left adductor and groin area.

Pacer No.4 was Dave and unfortunately for him we got lost, we missed a fecking bridge near Reading and carried on right through the town centre through the main restaurant areas and beyond. I didn't worry at this stage about lack of markers as the river was on our right the whole way so assumed they had been removed. There was also a couple of other runners behind us so they were either following us or we were on the right track.

Big mistake

We ran around 2-3 miles before I took stock and said we have to turn back. I was kicking myself for being so dumb. The runners behind us had gone and we set back off through the pubs, restaurants and clubs checking every turning or gap along the way. My mind was getting aggitated and I was really pissed off at this stage.

Finally we came back to a fucking bridge I had mentioned as we passed it earlier and there was a bastard little bit of tape hidden away in the dark. I love centurion Running but some of the markings were poor at best. James and I have discussed this and i'm not being critical more an observation for future events. It messes with your mind when you get lost and running 100 miler's is tough enough. Poor Dave had to put up with me swearing for ages until I have vented my spleen enough to move on.

Pacer No.5 was Stuart, the partner of Tina and another secret squirrel. I mentioned what had happened in the previous section and we started off with enthusiasm.

Fuck me we only got lost again......and again, these bonus bastard miles were really beginning to piss me off now. The safe time I had for a sub 24 hour finish had now gone and I was against the clock now.

Stuart did his best to keep my spirits up and encourage me to keep moving. The problem was that my leg was now in serious pain, walking and running hurt s I couldn't do either very well and whatever I did was slow.

Pacer no.6 was my long suffering wife Julie, it was her birthday and I was gifting her with a pacing mission with a sweary, Irish lunatic who was in a bad way and really pissed off with life. the universe and markers. Julie knows my pain tolerance level is up there with the best and she has seen me complete races I should never have done and DNF in a race I should never have entered. She was sure I would be fine and kept encouraging me.

This was where the meltdown started to happen. Somewhere between mile 85 and mile 90 things went rapidly downhill. My left leg was now in a mess. The terrain was now a mud fest, the rain was annoying and the distances between aid stations seemed to be all wrong. I couldn't lift my leg, it was like someone had snapped a tendon in my groin area. I still thought it was adductors and kept massaging the area as I shuffled along.

Some quick maths confirmed I could finish if I could maintain my 30 mins per mile pace.

30 minute fucking miling.....WTF!

I was when I realised we had less than a mile to get to the sub aid station at 95 miles and it had taken me over 2 hours to do the last mile that  knew I was fucked. We asked someone how far to the aid station and they confirmed a mile. Slipping and sliding, cursing and crying it took nearly 3 hours to get to the road to crawl into the ambulance that had been arranged for me.

Two Volunteers from the Streatey Check point had come to my assistance, Ian and Mark acted and crutches as we moved along an inch at a time. Ian suggested I swear as that helps, being a loon I didn't need asking any more and a tsunami of expletives spilled from my frustrated mouth as the futility of my situation hit home. Those two guys epitomised everything that is great about centurion events and I would help them out any time they need me.

I have to thank my wonderful support crew and pacing team for everything they endured. They are all part of my family and my athletes. For some strange reason all wanted to be part of this journey. I think it's safe to say that they may stick to marathons now!

By the way it was all my fault for getting lost as it's my race and I should have been more aware so don't beat yourselves up or else I'll kick your arses in training this week.

So why the ultimate DNF?

I think when you have given everything to a race, when you leave a part of your soul on the course, the you know you have tried your absolute best. In my previous DNF at the TDS I had a mental breakdown but my body was ok.

In this race my mind was fine, no sleep demons, no hallucinations, spot on nutrition and eventual hydration. It was like a car with a flat tire, then the 2nd one goes bang, then the 3rd busts and you know any moment the 4th will explode in spectacular pain.

I have no bad feelings about not finishing as I learnt a lot from the experience. One of the main lessons is that I can't make my wife suffer like this any more. I can't let my athletes, friends and pacers see me in such a sorry state. The trauma for them is too much and they are not used to it. I will ensure any future races are not done on Julie's birthday and may even ban her from being there if it's a long, stupid event. Mind you I've been told in no uncertain terms


We will see about that my lovely.

I did say I was stubborn and stupid.

Monday, 8 September 2014

My CCC race report

I finally got to the start line of the TNF UTMB CCC Ultra Marathon on Friday 29th August 2014. I had entered the previous year but been unsuccessful in the ballot and opted for the TDS race like a lunatic. At the time I stupidly reasoned "How hard can it be". After all, I had done an series of ultra marathons up to 100 miles, Ironman Triathlons x 4 and numerous other crazy events involving endurance and fitness over the last 8 years. The TDS was a great big DNF and another story but here I was at the start line for this years race.

The start of the CCC is a pretty amazing affair. The runners crush in against each other in their respective number sections. I was in the 2nd section presumably due the the times checked in my qualifying races. I was quite happy with this as there is nothing worse than having a greater runner breathing heavily down your neck as he continually tries to pass you on the climbs. The music blares, the crows grow and the nerves really kick in.

Suddenly there is a count down and the first wave is off. Us lesser mortals in the 2nd wave wait patiently for what seems like hours but was only maybe 10 minutes. The frantic athletes pour through the town and receive great applause all the way until the first climb starts.

I made sure I had said the right things to my wife and daughter who were to be my main support crew. I also had 5 other friends who had made the journey to Chamonix and were covered in Union Jack wigs and flags. They also had an assortment of horns, bells and whistles and I knew they would be heard for many hours by an assortment of runners. They have all either competed in races or attended Ironman races and know the value of encouragement and the hell with the French, Swiss and Italian reserve.

The first climb to Tete de la Tronche is long and fairly boring. It's mostly single trail so there are very few opportunities to pass people even if you wanted to. The scenery is the redemption as there were many aspects that were lovely if you took the time to stop and appreciate. I found myself getting very aquainted with the unique contours and colours of the show heel in front of me. Once you reach the top these views are beautiful but I didn't want to stop and take pictures unless I was waiting around or really knackered!

The decent starts on relatively good ground, you can run quite fast and enjoy some scenery as well as the feeling that you are flying across the mountains. Into check point 1 at Refuge Bertone and a rapid stop just for some water and off to the next checkpoint at Refuge Bonatti. Now on the map its looks relatively flat and in general it was but there are always bits where you have to be careful of your feet and stride.

I sailed through that checkpoint and began to look forward to the first major checkpoint at Arnuva. I had seen my mate Max there in his CCC race the previous year and so knew how beautiful it was. All along this ridge we ran, I kept seeing lovely mountains on my left and thought we must be close now. But it kept on and on. the trail was still good to run on and there was an opportunity to chat to a couple of other Brits abut the race and what fun we were having! Little did I know this would be the majority of conversation I would have in this race.

It is a strange feature of the UTMB races that hardly anyone talks to each other! Maybe it's because you have no idea who is in front or behind you unless they speak or you notice the flag on their number when you look back. For many hours in the race I didn't speak to anyone and didn't hear anyone speak either. The French and Italians seem to run in groups of 2-3 and were chatting away in the early stages but even this went in the later part of the race.

Finally the decent into Arnuva started and I could hear the sound of the big bells and horns from my crew. I hope they all know what a lift this can give a runner and I was so glad that their noise wasn't reserved for me alone as they gave a huge lift to everyone who was running and got a mixture of dour looks and smiles from other spectators.

I grabbed some food, topped up my water and got ready to start the next climb. I knew this one would be a bastard as it is the 2nd biggest in the race so I was prepared or so I thought. My crew cheered like crazy as I left and a quick check in with my wife left me feeling great and I began to climb, and climb, and hike and curse. This little climb to the Grand col Ferret went on for what seemed like hours. Occasionally I would stop and look back. I could just about make out Arnuva in the distance and it was crazy to think that a short while ago I had been there and now I was up in the clouds again looking down.

Finally I reached the top and felt really good about myself. I was in good shape and ready to run downhill to the next checkpoint at La Foully. This is where things started to get a bit technical. The roots started to grow from the ground, the rocks started to get a bit bigger and in general it was getting harder. The decent is exposed in places so I made sure I had my windproof jacket ready and reminded myself to keep eating and drinking every 30 minutes.  I had been caught out by altitude last year when i didn't drink for hours and it wasn't going to happen this year.

La Foully checkpoint was where I had some noodle soup for the first time and I needed it. The soup is really just stock with some thin noodles added but it really tastes great and makes you feel much better. The next stop was where I could get some assistance from my wife at Champex Lac in Switzerland and I was really looking forward to seeing her and changing my socks and getting some more food and some vital running love.

It was on this decent when things started to go a little wrong. I began to tighten up, my quads in particular were really giving me grief. I began to sort of sideways shuffle down the mountain and kept mixing up my gait in an attempt to sort my failing legs out. My mind was starting to annoy me with the silly thoughts of DNF and not being strong enough for the mountains. I kept reminding myself that despite not having any mountain training I had done 80k last year in the TDS and that I was strong enough to finish this stupid race.

The mind plays nasty tricks on you in ultra marathons. One minute you are flying and loving racing and everything that goes with it. You feel like a pro and consider giving everything up and just running for the rest of your life. Then the demons of self doubt kick in, slowly at first, the creep up on you and begin to nag at you. I thought of the pain, the sacrifice, the months of training, the crew who had given up their time and money to support me in this race. But those fecking demons say it in a different way. You are not good enough, not experienced enough, not tough enough. Look at the other runners they are laughing at you and trying to fly past you. You try to chase the thoughts away and sometimes they go but at other times they come back even worse.

I decided I needed some music to sort my head out. Shit, bollocks, fuck my Ipod was dead, how did that happen! I cursed out loud and started to rant, swearing at rocks and mountains and my stupidity at running with a dead ipod.

The decent into Praz de Fort which is a small checkpoint before Champex Lac just got worse and so did my mood. I actually looked forward to the climb and the first major meeting point.

I crawled in looking like shit and in a dark place. My poor long suffering wife tried her best to make me feel better but nothing was working. I saw my friends who were also trying to send me encouragement and my daughter who was looking concerned. It was a busy checkpoint and we all knew the night lay ahead. Another lesson was learnt there, prepare your crew, even if they have done it loads of times before ensure they know what to say and when to say it. Not that my mrs go things wrong but some of the things she said were best kept for other times, I wasn't in the mood for a pep talk, some arse kicking maybe but not a rah rah speech but this was my mistake and she was doing her best.

Out came the head torches and on went the change of socks and top. A bit more soup and some coke and I was up and ready to continue. I wasn't finished with this race just yet.

As I left Champex Lac the rain started and the darkness was upon us. On went the head torch and waterproof jacket. It's just a little shower I told myself, a little shower that lasted over 4 hours. The rain made everything a different ball game. Mud started to form and puddles of water everywhere. The trail got slippery and really quite crazy at times. I was climbing now and made good use of my poles and know without them I would not have finished.

The night was a mixture of rain, swearing, slipping, some running, lots of hiking and major mood changes. I climbed the 3rd major mountain into La Glete and the decent into Triente where the next major checkpoint and assistance was. To be fair I was in a better place at Triente and changed my shoes from the Brooks Pure Grit to Salomon Speedcross in the mistaken belief that they would cope better in the wet. A longer than normal hug with my daughter set us both off into tears. I have only known my daughter to cry once before and this really cut me up and I was more concerned about her than myself. I knew it was because she didn't like to see me suffer, she was new to all this and that she must be dog tired too but it didn't make it any easier. My wife was also in tears now and a look of toughness and empathy from a French volunteer made me realise I had to be strong for them as well as myself.

Back into the night, back to slipping and sliding in mud.and climbing again to Catogne the penultimate mountain. Now things were getting really technical and the rain wasn't helping but it was starting to stop but this didn't really matter as the damage to the trail was already done. I had trained in the rain but nothing like this. The rocks were now getting bigger and the roots were everywhere. People were slipping all over the place and for the first time I began to think that I might actually fall and fall badly. That would ruin my race, I had to make sure I didn't get injured. I started to exercise even more caution as I couldn't risk not finishing. My thoughts had long gone about finishing times and glory now it was pure survival.

I can't believe the UTMB runners had to run through this after we in the CCC had already wrecked the surface. They must have been cursing us and the weather too and I give maximum kudos to anyone who managed to finish that race.

Into the final assisted checkpoint at Vallorcine and what a relief it was to see my team again. The lift they gave me in spirit was immense and especially when they said "see you in Chamonix" as I left. I now had to finish, I had done all the hard work and there was just a stupid little mountain left between me and glory!

Little did I know the cheeky gits had kept the toughest climb till last. Now I experienced a little lunacy in terms of technicality last year in the TDS but this went to a new level now. I was running half asleep, drifting in and out and trying to keep myself awake. I ran through the Col des Montets where a wonderful French girl screamed at me in French to "eat you fucking crazy bastard" to which I replied in my now awful French "I am wrecked" she then proceeded to say the same thing in perfect English and told me to get my ass in gear. She was right, I needed to eat.

I had to eat to stay awake and struggled to open a Clif shot block pack. Why are those bloody packs so difficult to open after 22 hours of racing and at 5am! I chowed down on 3 blocks and had a little mars bar and felt a bit more alive and began the climb.

This climb went on forever. Over bigger and bigger rocks and on constant switchbacks. The daylight was beginning to break and this made things easier to see and so easier to navigate. It would have been a real nightmare in the dark as it was horrible at first light! Imagine stepping up massive rocks, slipping on them and then repeat accordingly for hours on end. I stopped at what I thought must be near the top and took this picture.

It was breathtaking and impossible to describe. I sat there and felt really small and insignificant. Who cared about my race. The sun still rises and sets and shit still happens as well as good things. I took some video and started to climb again, now that I was out of the clouds it was much better visually.

I met a runner who was British who had completed the race 5 times and this was his first time to climb this park in the daytime! He said there was loads of times when you think you are there to find that it's yet another switchback and there is more to climb. He wasn't wrong and it was relentless. This was without doubt the toughest part of any race I have ever done and a major milestone in my mental toughness for the future.

Finally I reached to summit to what i was told would be a very runnable part of the course. All downhill to the last aid station at La Flagere and then onto Chamonix and the finish.

Runnable my arse.

Slippery rocks, mud slides, cascading water, more fecking rocks, crazy French runners flying past at a slightly faster rate but it seemed like they were flying. Then you are free of that technical stuff and through the last aid station. Only about 7k to go and it should be lovely and easy to run. But it wasn't, it was more of the same stuff again except the rocks were much smaller but the roots were back. I had said to myself that I wouldn't let anyone pass me unless they were really flying downhill but the people who did pass me were so much better at decending than me and I really was scared that I would fall and it would all be worthless. I had a number of quite major slips on the big rocks and the really scared me and jarred my back so caution was the best way.

Suddenly I was there running on road, lovely road with no more fecking rocks, roots, mud or water. I came into the town and there was Paul who had also entered the same race. I thought he had kicked my arse but he had withdrawn earlier. I really felt for him as this was his 2nd year of DNF in these crazy races.

He jogged with me to where my friends and family were in the town center and my wife and daughter grabbed me and we began to run to the finish.

The applause from the spectators was wonderful. Finishing with the two most important women in my life was a dream come true and best of all my friends managed to capture it all on film.

I ran down the finishing chute and stopped at the end to bow. In respect to those fecking mountains. You might have beaten me last year but I beat you this year!

My amazing crew were Paul, Burti, Shannon, Alistair, Angie, thanks to Paul Haynes for running the last K with me mate, you will never know how great that was.

My beautiful wife Julie who is always there for me through the training, the racing and all the post race BS that gets talked about, thank you for putting up with me and my lunacy.

My amazing daughter Tamara who I hoped I have inspired a little and given her some precious memories. I'll never forget our hug in the aid station and also that fecking terrifying paragliding we did 2 days afterwards!

So what's next.....UTMB.....I'm not sure even i'm that crazy, but then again......

Final shot is the coveted finishers Gilet, and yes I have taken it off since.....for the odd day.

Wednesday, 13 November 2013

Lazy Fat Bastards Guide To Weight Loss Day 2

Ok, so at long last you are here at the start of the weight loss journey, the day you begin to implement lots of new ideas, new things to try and a new way of living. The premise of this journey is to give everything a try, you might not agree with everything but give it a go anyway. After all it's only for 30 days that is hardly any part of your life and you have spent years getting your body to where it's at now so 30 days won't kill you.

Today is all about what we do when we first get up in the morning and this is the easiest of all things. Get up, get straight into your kitchen and pour a large glass of water, ideally a pint or a litre if you feel really up for it. The get loads of ice and add it to the water. You need iced water and you will be drinking it over the next 5-10 minutes. It will be refreshing, it will be cold (that's the point), it may annoy you or get your teeth on edge but make sure every day for the remaining 28 days you start your day with the same glass of iced water.

"What a stupid idea" I hear you say.... "how can that possibly help?" It's all to do with cold thermogenesis and I will go into greater detail in later posts about this but for now here is a little story explaining the benefits of Cold Thermogenesis.

The story of Michael Phelps is an amazing one. The most decorated Olympian ever, a truly gifted swimmer who has smashed every record in swimming and made himself a household name. Did you know that at his peak he was eating around 12,000 calories a day! Now that is some eating regime! If I tried I don't think I could manage 8,000 so whay does he look so good if he eats that much and what makes it worse is that so much of it is so called junk food.

This paradox really go to Ray Cronise. How in the hell could Phelps get away with that?

Yes he swam, ALOT, but that in itself could not account for the massive amount of calories he injested daily. If we look at the calories in and calories out idea then Phelps should weigh a hell of a lot more than he does and should never achieve what he did.

Swimming is non weight bearing, in other words it's tough and exhausting but there is no contact with the ground like in running and the water has a sort of massaging effect on the body. This makes it a great sport for everyone, even f you can't swim because you too can get the benefits of cold thermogenesis and the fitness that messing around in a pool can give you provided that pool is cold!

So back to Pheps. Cronsie determined that the only way Phelps managed this weight loss and physique was not only because of the weights he lifted (a small part), or the amount of swimming he did (a little bigger part) but because of the cold environment in which he swam!

Swimming in cold water causes the body to become a furnace for fat loss. The body needs to become warm, it likes being warm. It regulates itself to become warm when faced with cold. Phelps spent a crazy amount of time every day in cold water and it was his bodies reaction to this that helped him to burn all the excess calories he was eating.

So whilst I would love yo to freeze your bits off in a cold pool, the sea or in constant cold showers we are lazy bastards so we start small and build. The small start is the glass of iced water each and every day before anything else in eaten or drunk.

Your stomach will have to warm that water, that will burn calories without you knowing it and with no sweat or effort. This is the easiest and laziest way to build cold thermogenesis into your life.

if you are feeling ninja and want to read or listen to more about the benefits of Cold Thermogenesis then here are a few of my favourite resources on the subject and some of the people who have taught me so much about fat loss and the body.

Ben Greenfield, Ironman Triathlete and all round guru on everything fitness and health related. Owner of Endurance Planet which is a MUST listen to podcast

Tim Ferris author of The Four Hour Body, life hacker extraordinare and all round interesting guy

Ray Cronise, scientist and cold investigator

thanks to these guys for helping me in my journey and I hope to help you get there too.

Monday, 11 November 2013

The Importance of baby soft feet in Ultras and Ironman Triathlons

Baby soft feet are one of the most important but most overlooked aspects of endurance training and racing. Personally I make it a mission to ensure my feet are in tip top condition for any important race for at least a month prior to the race. I make sure I go to a good chiropodist at least twice in that month and a week before the race to ensure all issues have been dealt with and my feet are perfect to compete.

Our feet are the foundation of running and without a decent foundation we cannot expect to go very far or fast. The stories I hear of blisters, lost toe nails, and general pain go on forever. I experienced debilitating blisters in my first long ultra and swore that that was one lesson I would learn from.

Feet are funny things, there are around 20 main muscles, loads of tendons, ligaments, bones and soft tissue that can help or ruin your training and racing so why do so few of us actually take good care of our feet?

In barefoot running the general feeling is to ensure you have built up a good bunch of callouses that will protect your feet and make sure that they are hardened and ready to cope with what the earth throws at them.

But we generally keep our feet cocooned in our Asics, Salomon or other shoes to protect them from the nasty things we might land on. This is great but it makes our feet soft and weak, we protect them too much.

Blisters are caused by friction between either skin on skin or skin on material. It can happen because your toes rub against each other or because your feet are rubbing against your socks or shoes. Yes you can tape your feet, you can wear double layered socks, you can even try a number of remedies such as soaking your feet in petroleum spirit. But whilst these all seem to have some merits I believe you can beat good foot care.

Since I discovered this little secret I have not suffered at all on any distances or races from Ultra's to Ironman Triathlons. I make sure my feet are buffed, toe nails are trimmed, feet are creamed and any old blisters or small issues are dealt with by my chiropodist.

Now running long distances does cause your feet to swell and sweat so there is a high possibility of getting a blister but I have found that great care has eliminated this issue.

As far as toe nail loss goes I have found that it is only down to incorrect footwear in terms of sizing. This is because runners often go for the same size shoe they would normally wear, when in fact they need to be a half to a full size bigger to prevent this happening. Toe nail loss is due to the toes bashing against the front of the shoe, which causes small traumas in the toe nail which leads to black toe nails and eventually nail loss. Keep your toe nails, go bigger on shoes.

An excellent book on this is Fixing Your Feet by John Vonhof  it is a little long and does go into massive detail but if you are into long distance running, Ironman Triathlon or multi day running then this is the book for you.

It covers how to deal with feet issues such as blisters and most importantly how to prevent then along the lines of what I have described here. It covers multi stage races such as The Marathon des Sables and other long distance races.

So look after your feet and they will look after you. It doesn't have to be expensive and you don't need to visit a chiropractor, just get a decent foot buff and some good nail scissors and make sure you don't cut too deep or that will give you issues!

Final tips.....make sure you are hydrated. Blisters often occur as a result of dehydration.

Get some good socks. I prefer X-Socks for general running and Dry Max socks for long distance trails. Both have been my preferred choice

Friday, 8 November 2013

The Importance of a crew in Ultra Marathons

Crews can be the make or break of an ultra. sometimes you are allowed them and sometimes not. In the cases where they are allowed I consider them a vital part of the experience. When they are disallowed you can still generally see your crew at aid stations for moral and mental support.

Don't underestimate how vital they can be towards your race. A crew is not just a person or set of people who can gee you up and throw man the Fuck up pills at you when required! Crews have many other attributes which are often overlooked by the runner.

Not only does the crew have to be awake the whole time you are running but they also have to endure long periods of boredom while they wait for your arrival at a checkpoint. They have to travel to places that are difficult to find and often just an ordinance survey area. They have to put up with you stinking of sweat, urine, mud and any other variety of smells. They have to endure the cold, the rain, the sun, the wind as much as you. They get nothing at the end, just a thank you, a smelly hug and sweaty kiss and maybe get tom listen to the tale of the race again and again as you relive it to anyone within earshot.

So how do you pick a crew? Personally I like to have people I know, I like the ability to talk how I normally would at points of extreme stress, swearing like crazy, crying out in pain and generally being a pain in the ass. A person who knows me understands that I'm often like that anyway and won't take it personally. Make sure if you choose your partner that they know what you are about to endure. They will be protective and will not want you to suffer. But you will need to suffer to succeed (see post about DNF, you don't want that!).

A good crew member will have prior knowledge of Ultras or other endurance events and will possess a similar crazy sense of humour and tolerance of pain. They will be able to assess you and make decisions that you might not be capable of. They will know when to kick your ass, when to empathise, when to tell you to shut up and have a great tolerance towards your ranting and selfish ways that will come out in the race.

You must prep all crew members in advance. Tell them what to expect, if you don't know what to expect just thin k of the worst case scenario and make it even worse. Articulate this to them so they can see the magnitude of what you are undertaking and that they are ready for the unexpected. Make sure they know the drills in aid stations and what they can and cannot do. Tell them about your food preferences, likes and dislikes and make sure they know this could change at a moments notice. Suddenly that bar or gel you love could be like poison so they need to have great flexibility.

They must know when to ask relevant questions and know when you need to be left alone. They must show enthusiasm at all times and cheer other people who they will never see again or care about.

These people are VERY hard to find, however they are everywhere, they just don't know it yet. so don't despair if you can't think of anyone. In my first big Ultra I choose my crew wisely. I had a mix or personalities and abilities and made sure they all knew each other a little, they soon got to know each other a lot more.

A crew will give you everything and more but only if they know what to give and can adapt to the situation as necessary. Preparation is everything, for you and the crew so ensure you don't neglect this. Don't forget your crew can also provide support to other runners so encourage this as one day you might need similar support.

Here is the outline of my crew for the South Downs 100 in 2012

Julie - my ever loving wife, falls apart when I'm in pain, cares for me and will rally me when needed and provide love and nurture. I cannot contemplate finishing an event without her. Julie brings a passion and madness that only the Italians can give. Memories of her screaming "COME ON BIG BOY!!!!" will stay with me for years.

However I learnt in my DNF that I need to ensure if I'm in a mess that she is not there to give me the easy option of withdrawing!

Burti -crazy wine drinking all round bundle of irreverent fun. Burti has embraced endurance races and continues to astound. Brings a wealth of craziness and laughter to any situation. Burti even had an asthma attack at mile 98 whilst running the last 8 mile stretch with Julie and me. I had to say to Julie "Don't let her die! I've got to finish this fucker and I can't be doing with her dying". Luckily she was fine and suffers from them all the time, but I didn't know this and it showed her true dedication to getting me to that finish line.

Dean - my stepson and a personal trainer. Dean brings the hardness to the situation, he knows the job needs to be done and won't take any shit. Dean makes you forget the pain as he reminds you that you have been through worse.

Ollie - fellow Ironman athlete and all round good guy. His all round attitude make you smile even when things are so tough you want to crawl up and die. He knows when to take the mick and when to pick you up as he has suffered in races too.

These 4 people endured me running for 24.08 and saw me crying, swearing in church, laughing, running 6 min miling at mile 99 and crawling over the finish line. They suffered as much as I did and enjoyed the triumph equally. I had them running 8 mile sections from the 50 mile checkpoint one pacer at a time and I'm quite sure that without them I would not have finished.

Thursday, 7 November 2013

DNF what happens and what we don't like to admit to!


that awful realisation that you have entered a race, trained forever and yet still managed to fail in finishing the damn thing. So why do we DNF (did not finish) in races when we have done all this prep and what goes on in our minds before during and after. Here I will describe my first DNF and how it affected me.

I entered the CCC race of the UTMB series but was unsuccessful in the ballot so I was offered the TDS as an alternative. Basically CCC is a 100k race staring in Cormayeur in Italy and running through the mountains to Chamonix in France, around 2000 people race. The UTMB a 100 mile race around the same mountains but a lot further and a different route. the TDS is a very technical 120k race around the same mountains but is often regarded as the toughest of the 3 races. They all take place in Chamonix at the same UTMB race week as well as the PTL which is a team race of 300k.

Being a bit of a dick head I though I would take the TDS place as after all I had run a 24.08 in a 100 mile ultra, done an 85 mile ultra, numerous Ironman Triathlons and a selection of shorter Ultra Marathons so how hard could it be.

It was a nightmare.

The weather was perfect, the mountains beautiful but dame were they tough bastards. At 30k into the race the first thoughts of dropping out entered my head. This is normal in Ultra marathons and I expected it. What I didn't expect was how many times I would have to battle with my mind to keep going. I began to think of excuses, reasons for dropping out, things that would sound plausible and that would get people to respect me if I did drop out.

I kept looking at how hard things were, how tired I was, how sore every piece of my body was. I began to rationalise the race at the last mountain before I dropped out. There were people asleep on the way up the mountain, people go to the top and looked at the decent and just turned around and went back down the way they had come instead of attempting the decent.

Now I had entered a mountain running ultra race, not a fucking mountaineering race, or is that one of the excuses I use. Anyway the decent was really scary, i have t be honest and say that I was very scared for my life, it was pitch black and holding onto a rope for best part of a 3k decent while looking at a direct drop to doom and certain death 17 hours into a race is not fun.

At the top I called my wife, she asked why it had taken s long to climb a 6 k mountain? Anyway she said it's only 4.5k downhill so I'll see you in a bit....3.5 hours later I emerged looking like a sack of shit. I was spent.

My mind was gone, I was still 10 minutes inside the cut off but I knew it was game over. My wife was calling my name to every person she saw in that darkness, desperate to see me. I clung to that desperation, that was my ticket out of the madness of this race. I couldn't put her through any more torture. So at the aid station I said the fateful words "Je Suis Termine"..... I Am Finished to the organisers. I had completed around 80k and beaten the biggest mountains but the really technical stuff lay ahead and I didn't have it in me.

I got on the death bus back to the race start, filled with other failures like me. There was no noise, it was like a funeral, but worse. We all had the same look of despair, the self hatred was kicking in. My wife and friends did their best to console me, listened to my tried and tested excuses and reasons why and I felt worse and worse about myself.

I could have carried on, I should have carried on. Yes I was in a mess but I have been through worse. On reflection it was a lack of respect for the mountains. I had never been on a mountain apart from 6 ascents and decent of Snowdonia 4 weeks before but that was only 1250m high. The smallest climb I had was 2000m in that race and the highest 2600.

I had to deal with the altitude issue.....another excuse

The food at the aid stations was not what I was used to or could train for....excuse.

I wasn't prepared enough.....excuse as I did a 100k 2 weeks later in 13.30 and came in 24th on UK soil. so I was prepared for the milage but not the terrain.

I was well versed in the stories we weave about races. I had compiled many over the years about how I had overcome an issue, ran through monster blisters the size of the palm of my hand, how I was dead and out and still completed. The story of how my wife walked out 4 days before an Ironman and 4 weeks before an 85 mile ultra and I still completed both. Cramping up in that Ironman and crying on the side of the road at my weakness and in so much pain, but I fucking well finished.

Ah the stories....I could tell you so many about the victories, the challenges I overcame and how I beat people I should never have beaten. But the story I hate most is my DNF story.

I created and rationalised superb reasons for my failure. Then I repeatedly told this story in various guises to friends, family, anyone who would listen in an attempt to make myself feel better about my failure and to get some sympathy. To hear "you'll do it next time" and other such words of encouragement when you know they are thinking WEAK! FAILURE! WIMP!

I used to take the piss out of other mates who DNF'ed in races. I even had calf guards on that said "Death before DNF" how fucking stupid was I to wear them.

But I kept them and will never race in them again. I will carry them with me when I return one day to that race and defeat my demons. I will tear across that finish line and burn them, tear them up, bury them at the foot of the finish line, run with a fucking big flag saying I beat my DNF, anything to exorcise this feeling.

S what to do when a DNF raises it ugly head and it's a damn ugly head that will torture you for many years.

If it is a medical emergency such as broken leg or similar then that is a legitimate reason. If you are timed out by a cut off and you have really tried you best then that is a legitimate reason.

I can't really see any other reasons other than excuses and we all know excuses are just bullshit wrapped up in self pity.

So when you find yourself immersed in self doubt, when your messed up mind is saying "Sod This! lets go home", when you feel like shit and are puking, shitting, cramping, crying at the side of the road, just take a break. Take it easy on yourself, it's not meant to be easy, if it was everyone would be doing it.

A friend of mine was messed up in an Ironman and sat down to watch some cricket, he loves cricket and his pain and hated for the race went away, he got up and finished the race.

I was in a real mess at the 70 mile point of the 85 mile ultra, remember my wife had left me, I had massive blisters, my torch has run out of batteries and I was a total wreck. So I said to myself, just make it to the top of that hill and you can have a rest.  made it, sat down, felt like shit, cried, ate and then attempted to get up. Fuck me that was painful, the getting up part that is.

I resolved to have more breaks when I felt I needed them. I say down at the last few aid stations for a bit while I felt sorry for myself. Then an old lady slapped my around the chops and told me she had just run lands end to John O'Groats and she looked about 90! That picked me up and I completed the race when I should have dropped.

So when you are faced with those hard decisions make sure your support crew know not to let you drop. Make sure that your fellow competitors help you, get the supporters to pick you up, beg the aid stations to give you some help but don't stop. Quieten your mind shout at yourself, scream if you have to, break the cycle of self doubt. Don't allow any self pity to take over and make sure you don't start creating the story before the end of the race, it's far too easy to live out that story.

In races it's the finish we want, yes we love the scenery, the talking, the challenge but what we really want is to finish. If we can beat our previous time all the better, or beat a rival. We don't want a DNF, they hurt.

The story of the finish against the odds is always far better than the story of failure, unless you back that story up with triumph over that failure now that's the story I want to tell.

To finish in a good wife and I are back together and very happy.

Comments and similar stories are great

Wednesday, 6 November 2013

Lazy Fat Bastards Guide To Weight Loss Day 1

Ok so you have read about the reason for writing an ebook about this so now it's time to get down to the nitty gritty the first day in your 30 day journey to true lazy bastard weight loss. Notice I didn't say Lazy Fat Bastard as that is not what we are going to be. Lazy maybe but fat will be far from the truth.

The first thing to do is identify what has caused you to get to the state where you call yourself a derogatory term such as a Lazy fat Bastard. For most people it is over indulgence in food or drink or both. When I say drink it can be booze or coke or other sugary drinks.

Let me get something very firmly fixed before I carry on. It's not due to lack of exercise, repeat this is not due to lack of exercise at all.

Why can I say that with such certainty? Because you CANNOT out train a bad diet or bad addictions no matter what they may be.

I have been an endurance athlete since 2006. I started out wanting to run a half marathon. I was nearly 16 stone and hadn't done any running for nearly 20 years so I was not in a good place. Since the day I committed to run that half I have gone onto many stupid events and distances. I have completed numerous marathons, 4 Ironman Triathlons, multiple Ultra Marathons including 35, 50 85 and 100 mile including lots of others in between. Not to mention the thousands of training rides, runs and swims I have done.

I don't tell you this to brag, yes they are great achievements but the vision I had of a bronzed Ironman/Ultra athlete with rippling muscles and veins popping out in his 6 pack is far from the truth. The truth is hard to realise, it's taken me many years of dedicated exercise, sweat, tears and heartache but I now know exercise alone will  NOT help me get that body.

Ok, all this helped in my weight loss but up until last year I would regularly balloon back up to 14 stone and spend the rest of the year trying to get back to a race weight of 13 stone and I STILL  had a fucking big gut. I still looked at myself with disgust in the mirror, I still felt self conscious and bought XL t-shirts and I continued to think terrible things about myself.

So I have spent the last 18 months trying to identify what causes that gut, what I can do about it and what works and doesn't work. I know one thing for sure exercise works but not that much. Diet and exercise and a combination of other lazy bastard hacks can really speed things up and help massively.

So to start you need to identify what it is that is making you fat. In my case it is wine, I drink wine, I love wine, I sell wine, when I drink wine I get the munchies for crisps, cheese, chocolate and eat in excess generally. So this is a dual issue. Not only is the excess wine contributing to fat gain but the extra free calories from munchies also doubles my fat gain efforts.

If you love coke, diet coke or any other sugary drink and have more than 1 can a day then that is your issue. It might be pizza, burgers, chocolate, cake, processed food, I don't know only you know and no one needs to tell you. As adults we all know the issue we just don't necessarily like to admit to it.

Sit down and identify one bad habit you have, one thing that contributes towards your incredible achievement in becoming a Lazy Fat Bastard. Then commit to eliminating that evil for just 3 days.

So no sugary drinks, no chocolate, no cake, whatever is your poison and just don't do it for just 3 days. Anyone can do it for 3 days, Christ you can sleep for half of that and turn your minds to other things when you are awake!

We need to change the things that cause that habit, this is easier said than done, but while you are craving that chocolate or salivating over that drink use your mind to identify the things that lead to that craving. Look deep into this and write down those roads that lead you to your habit.

Sometimes it will be a bad day at work and you reach for the white wine, other times it will be a sugar crash in the afternoon and you NEED chocolate. It might be that cake is offered with every birthday in your office and it would be rude not to partake.

Find that trigger or multiple triggers. Identify just one thing that contributes to your fat gain and eliminate for 3 days.

After that we can move onto Day 2 and let the lazy times roll as this was a tough first day.

For more help on habits and how to change them read The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg