A good weekend of recovery training

Recovery is coming along nicely. There are still plenty of issues with my high hamstring tendinopathy which will not get resolved overnight. There are 4 events; 2 XC marathons and 2 ultras (38 miles and 50km) to do until our first child is due on 14th December. If I can hold myself together until then, I will take a full break and have some healing time whilst daddy-duties take over my life.

This weekend was an unexpected boost to my training. Having decided to take some time to detox from the amount of alcohol consumed over the summer holidays, I have been feeling very positive. I was apprehensive about a longer run with Phil on Saturday as I had not run over 7 miles in any session in 3 weeks since the TG60 DNF. Parkrun was my first hurdle on Saturday morning at Crystal Palace. I ran up the hill to the start and felt rusty......

So with a 1.5 mile warm up and a little stretch at the start line, I relaxed (and for the first time at Park Run, didn't know anybody) and waited for the off. I was wary of the niggle so set off conservatively knowing that the 2.5 laps of the 5k course would reveal 240ft of ascent and some tight corners. I decided not to look at the Garmin and focus on my breathing, which I never really felt was near its limits, possibly 85% ish. I did have a sneaky glance at the top of the first climb feeling OK and thought that anything sub-24 would be really good, bearing in mind my recovery. All of the way round I focused on my breathing and my foot strike and was pleasantly surprised to have knocked out a 21.47 for the course. The Parkrun stats show I was 13th (out of 103) in my 13th park run but was also my quickest of the year. Not bad. I hopped off up the hill to meet Phil and his little brother Richard (training for Royal Parks half) and ran with them in a parks and cycle routes way to Brixton for a coffee and then home. 14 miles.

 After an afternoon of DIY finishing off the bathroom and lots of other odd-jobs around the house, a relaxing evening and it was off again this morning to do more miles with Phil. This time his wife was competing in Run to the Beat half marathon around Greenwich. We trotted down to the start, saw her at mile 1.5 and then ran the back ways around Woolwich and Charlton, then the Thames Path before ending up at the Dome where I got the tube and then ran home. Great to have a bit of northern banter with Phil. 13+ miles done and although this afternoon the hamstring felt it, it was not uncomfortable. Things are looking better and as long as I can hold it together for about 10 more weeks, recovery beckons.

Removing the fail from trail

I've had a pretty rum summer in terms of running. Injury and some real junk miles and the DNF from the Saxon Shore Thames Gateway. I guess that I have just been busy with serious DIY over my school summer holidays and add into that, probably a bit too much socialising and I think that there were a number of events too far. I should have taken stock after the SDW100 and then had a bit of a break. Sometimes having a bit of time off can not only be good for the body, but good for the mind.

So it was with some trepidation that I even packed my running gear for a mini-break to the Pembrokeshire coast. Mrs UB and I were heading up to her sister's wedding in Monmouth on the Welsh borders and we wanted to add a few days to this before the end of the summer. I am so glad that I did. I only completed 2 runs and neither were greater than 10 miles, but both, especially the first, were jam packed with big ascents and jaw-dropping scenery.

Susie, now being 25 weeks pregnant was interested in an afternoon nap after our walk around the beautiful Manorbier Castle and late luncheon. After a sumptuous bowl of Welsh Cawl washed down by some strong tea, we drove to Stackpole Quay and she departed for the hotel. I ran up the coast to Barafundle bay.....arguably the best beach in the UK. (only reachable by a 1km walk) Once I had taken in the vista, I ran back along the Pemrokeshire Coast Path for what was a very hilly lung busting run but nonetheless beautiful.

 I stopped a number of times for photos and to get my breath back  and absorbed the scenery. This was my first run in nearly a week and the pain in my hamstring was not as bad as I had originally concerned myself over. There was a niggle, but this went after a hot bath and glass of wine. two more days of chilling and it was off to the beautiful market town of Monmouth for the wedding of the year and indeed it was. Prior to cooking the entire bridal party the famous UB fry-up on wedding morning, I popped out to sample the rolling hills of the Wye valley and its surrounds. I was in for a treat.

After an hour of continuous hills it was time to return to chef duties to provide the wedding breakfast! We would need it, based upon the copious litres of beers, wines and spirits that would be consumed over the following 20 hours or so! Over these two runs I then contemplated a good old fashioned detox and dry month or two. I have over-consumed cider and wine this summer and I have no doubt it has affected my running and a lot more besides. So it is dear reader that I inform you that I am having a long break from the booze to give my body a chance to get back to fitness and to also prepare for the arrival of small new UB to the family. Good friends will know that I have been known to over-indulge on a regular basis so this will no doubt come as a relief for them too. I will monitor the effects and report back.

Thames Gateway 60 Race Report

I woke up at 4.45am and proceeded to stuff my face with bananas, coffee and ready brek before getting into the car and whizzing down to Eastling in the deepest darkest North Kent countryside. A beautiful place to finish an ultra....but no doubt it would be in the dark. Arriving at the start it was clear to see that Race Director Mike Jones had clearly learned from the Norman Conquest 50 and there was a plethora of Coke, Water and an assortment of snacks and savouries that even James Elson of Centurion Running would be in awe of. Even the race brief, the notes, the atmosphere was far more professional than the NC50 which was really good to see. I was impressed by how different it was. Race briefing at 7.15am was a sombre affair, as was the hour-long coach ride to Gravesend, where apart from a few of us chortling at the back, the rest were silent.

Arriving at Gravesend we were greeted by a mist that set in, like a pea-souper. This was truncated by a realisation that we were about to run 60 miles and polite conversation ensued and some cameraderie developed. Then the rain set in. It was here to stay for the longevity of my run. The run that was to end much sooner than planned.

A quick race briefing from Mike Jones and it was off at 9.00am through the mist and mirk and along the Thames estuary. The field quickly established it's top dogs. There were those who were bidding for glory and those who were biding their time. In just the first mile I had worked out the potentials in the field. My 2nd place podium at the NC50 was fresh in my mind and there were 2 runners that I had an eye on that were keeping their powder dry and a few that would go off hard and no doubt be reeled in after 25 miles or so. Navigation should be easy. Keep the bloody briny to the left and carry on to Faversham and then do a sharp right. No such luck. Punctuated along the coast were various factories, quarries, inlets, reserves and the like. All of the runners went off course around a sand quarry and with a map ref and recon around some hefty barbed wire fencing we were back on track through the pouring rain. A short Essex chap blasted into the lead, followed closely by a younger fella. I sat on their shoulders for 4 miles until they went off track and then decided it was time to get the map out and do my own recon work. CP1 at Cliffe came up pretty quickly and I was pleasantly surprised to see a chap who we ran with on the NC50 between miles 6-17. He worked the CP very well. A massive improvement on the NC50 where there were points with no CP (CP4) or a fella with a fag hanging out of his gob, on a phone and nothing on the table...CP6) Off then for the next 10ish miles to CP2. It was up through the RSBP range which was a climb of 150ft or so that the magic of the now good country trail faded to the grey that ensued and enveloped the estuarine course as my high hamstring woke up and shot a double espresso of pain up my nerves and into my brain. I had been happy as larry sitting early on the back of the front two guys. The pace was soooo comfortable I could have gone off like shit off a hot chrome shovel.......however.....up to the climb there were some sections where I felt some issues that began to manifest themselves in two ways: 1; in my upper hamstring (a big issue for forefoot runners as this is the trigger for the calf fast-twitch. and 2; in MY HEAD. Now my head is an amazing place normally, but with a baby on the way, things change. Things change a lot. So with that in the back of my mind the brain off, brakes off mentality now becomes subdued. The foot went off the gas and I slipped from 1st, to 3rd to 4th and then walked as the pain took over.

Happy face became angry face as I watched the lead, the glory, the podium, the trophy slip though my fingers. Then the angry face became forlorn as I took a £53 taxi back to the car and took a hit on the bank balance as well as the running prowess. However, I know when a man is down and I was certainly down. Walking was fine but this was an ultra and running was very very painful. Walking would have meant a disasterous 15+ hour 60 miler and not a lovely 10+ hour podium finish. I then DROPPED. Mentally this is a VERY VERY painful thing to do but with an injury, there is little choice.

So, after an eventful cab journey with what can only be described as (a lanky binman) an experience, I arrived at race HQ and spent some time conversing with the Race Director's sister who was utterly supportive and brilliant and hopefully did not see the bad side of my DNF. Evolution is a wonderful thing and I definitely think the the team around the Ultra-Trails brand have learned lessons from there issues around the NC50. I am now confident that this is a brand that will be a growing force in Ultra running. Race directions do need some work on but evolution is about moving forward. I have offered my services to support from a race marshalling point of view. I really appreciated that conversation, particularly as I was cold, wet and low after the DNF.

My hopes go out to the rest of the crews and runners and hope the event went as smoothly as it started. I arrived home to a hot bath and a lovely dinner party with some amazing friends that I would not have seen had I completed the race. However, I am confident that this would have been another podium had I not been race ready. Since I have woken up this morning the pain in the rear has subsided and I will be seeking out someone to fix the problem over the next few week. A DNF is a DNF and I've had a couple this year, but there are more races and it's not worth longer term damage.

Up and coming Thames Gateway 60

The last couple of weeks I have been quiet on the blogging front. Apologies to you dear readers. Since getting back from Kenya I have been busying myself with a paint of every surface of the house over the last two-and-a-half weeks, completing the garden office and untold other DIY issues that have been on my list. In the meantime, running has taken a back foot as I have the need to prep the house over the school holidays in time for the start of term and then the delivery of our new baby towards the end of the year.

Punctuate the DIY with a 3 day trip to Berlin and Potsdam to visit friends and with my running gear in backpack, I thought I might have a little run. Maybe not! Plenty of walking and sightseeing, although the only rain of the long weekend was during the walk to the Reichstag building in the centre of town. Now that Mrs UB has a large bump......

....we are not going for our City centre runs so I stuck to a few Weissbiers and chilled out. 135 miles in 10 days last week required a few days off. Let's call it a taper. I have run 11 this week at the club on Tuesday, preceded by the most painful massage ever on a messed up back and worryingly, an high hamstring strain. Rest, recovery and gentle stretching along with foam roller work will hopefully allow me to be ready for the 60 miler on Saturday. An odd distance at that, I am concerned that this is not a 50, but dependent on how I feel, could end up being 3 hours longer if I am below par. No matter, I am fuelled with some excellent goods from Keith Godden's Ultramarathonrunningstore.com and hopefully there will be some good news on Saturday afternoon/evening.

NDW and Darent Valley run with Jezza

Yesterday @ultraKent or as is more commonly known under his Latin nomenclature Jezza ultraKenticus (var. necrohepatosis this morning) planned a small run as both of us happened to be on annual leave. Without hesitation over the telephone Jerry concocted a loose 20 miler that would likely be my last long run before the Thames Gateway 60 next weekend. As regular readers will know, I have had an indifferent mid-year so far with the following:

1 x 4th place at an XC marathon
1x 2nd place podium at the Norman Conquest 50
1 x DNF at the SDW100
1x DNF at the Croydon 30 (both through falls...one A&E, one for putting one's foot in a pothole talking about the A&E trip but not being fully recovered to participate)
2 x marathons in the heat since.

This run was not about the miles, more of a good old catch up with an old friend. Jerry and I ran our first ultra together in 2008. I think we need to celebrate in December with a 5 year anniversary which, correct me if I am wrong, is wood. Perhaps we shall celebrate by going for a run, in the wood? We have not hooked up for a while as usually our summer meet up is more of an inebriated affair with out good buddy David Hegarty (Ultra Immune) at the athletics. What I like about running with Jezza is that we think we are going to have a run and discuss running but we do everything but discuss running. I hope he will not be offended about the similarities (not in looks, but in the discussion of pure and utter bollocks and loose ends and perhaps in stature) to the gentile Deptford-born radio presenter Danny Baker. In actual fact, it was within a mile of home that we discussed running and albeit briefly.

I dropped down to Fortress Chislehurst at 7.45am and after some faffage, we cruised down tho Elmstead Woods station to get a coffee and a train to Sevenoaks via Orpington for another coffee, allowing Jezza to unroll his hepatic misreancy from the previous evening. Once at Sevenoaks it was quickly onto the Darent Valley Path (DVP) through a series of ponds and lakes.

Dropping from suburban to rural and then back to suburban it was then off road proper to the DVP where within 15 minutes, Jezza needed to sort out a race admin issue. Once deposited, we were back en-route and within a few miles of fields, paths with nettles and brambles and some great vistas, we were on the North Downs Way. It was clear that some ruffians from an unmentioned ultra running organisation had illicitly sprayed graffiti upon the pavements of Kent. I shall pen a stern letter to my Member of Parliament about these hooligans! Clearly the handwriting of a UK-vest  ultra runner who shall remain unnamed! It is highly likely that flashing and public urination was witnessed too over this weekend on said race!

Onward and back onto the DVP and the winding path along the river to Lullingstone Castle led us to stop for a cup of tea. How quaint. With a short stop we were once again on the way and the route took us up some big hills back over the North Downs and then continual undulation, first on trail, then on a 3 mile section of roads. We paused more than occasionally for fluids as it was a hot morning, race-walking the steeper of the hills and bimbling through the "forgotten triangle" between the M20, M25 and M26. As we were approaching the end of Bermuda as the bridge over the M25 appeared, a photo opportunity arose that had us tittering at its stupidity. Then it happened.

The moment of oddness that could only happen in the "forgotten triangle" with the approaching of the elderly gentleman in the photo. "Errrr, where does that lane get you to?" Asked Jerry. As the pensioner with the dog replied, I struggled to stifle guffaws and Jerry did a double-take, then stared at the chap intently, focusing on his spectacles, also now stifling laughter. The gent was walking his dog wearing 3-D glasses. Outrageous! It only happens in the "forgotten triangle"

So it was off onto some gypsy path for the next few miles and a tour of what block-paving money is spent on with Southfork to our left and Beckingham Place to our right, the green lush countryside punctuated by the whiteness of large caravanalia. Jerry wasn't feeling so great so we stopped for food and also a hidden water tap to refuel and off again we went. We could have run all day but a mini-bonk by Jerry and it was the quick route home via a can of coke at the Homebase car park in somewhere that started with Cray. After much protestation we shuffled along until the caffeine kicked in and for me it was a nice opportunity to observe the cameo of a chap on his own running turf. Fleet of foot and happy as Larry, he scurried through the loose soft path of Petts Wood and Hawk Wood, along the train line and back to chez Smallwood. This nimble effort showed me that he did not need to scent mark his patch. He owned it. Great! It was good to see him running at his speed and not trying to blast it as I was around.

As we approached the road after the station, I knew the way home and let loose (probably the Coke's caffeine now in my veins) and it was a cameo 7 min miler up the last half mile and back to base. Wonderful to catch up with the most colourful and genuine runners on the ultra scene and a good friend. Perhaps it was fitting that we didn't go to the pub and ruin the rest of our day by misappropriating copious quantities of cider so that we would be able to remember and reminisce our 20 mile jaunt. Cheers Jezza.

Vanguard Way marathon race Report - A tale of Florence Nightingale

I woke up in the morning feeling less than refreshed having suffered from a stomach bug that had left me kind of empty since my return from Kenya. This gave me an instant niggle in my head for the race ahead. It is really difficult to find summer marathons so this was a Godsend and especially as it was only £10 and started just 9 miles from home in South London.

The Vanguard Way Marathon was organised by the 100 Marathon Club so I felt would be a well organised race. Phil Beecroft and I were using this as a training run for the upcoming TM60 on Bank Holiday weekend so it was also a good opportunity to discuss race strategy and the event. We didn't really do a lot of this as the event unfolded for reasons that will become clear. At the start it was nice to catch up with Peter Bowles (on his 99th marathon), Mal and James Elson who had just come back from running the South West Coastal Path that I ran part of in the winter. I was surprised not to see Jerry there as on our runs he often muses about the Vanguard way. Off we went, Dave Ross heading off the front like a bat out of hell, followed by a select group of others whom I did not recognise. Hilarity ensued as a lap of Lloyd Park in Croydon was followed by a screeching wail of "You've gone the wrong way!!!!" as all of the front runners ran the Park Run loop instead of following the signs for the VGW. Once over Coombe Lane it was time to follow the trails, firstly in and out of suburban roads and then onto the trail for real.

The VGW is not the easiest trail to follow. Never mind the 5 different signs that were to be followed but the location of such signs, on sides of bus stops or the infrequence of finger posts made it difficult to follow. Not to worry though as the trail was exceptionally well marked for the first 4 miles. Then nothing at all from Farleigh Down to about mile 8. Phil and I were bimbling along at 8.15s for those first miles and all of which were on an incline. We soon hooked up with a runner called Susan, once of Striders, now of Orpington who was well aware of those now infamous Union Jack shorts! We ran together for quite some time as, with a bunch of 50 runners all stopped at a 4 way road crossing with 3 paths to choose from, there were no markings, signs or finger posts to follow. 23 minutes (yes!) of deliberation, some choosing some path and returning and lots of huffing and puffing later and we chose our path with a group of about 10 runners. Wrong one. Navigation by compass and a really poor photocopied map found us back on trail, although 2 miles extra and a vitally missed check point 1. Low on water now on this 25 degree day. No matter, as we ran on, chit chatting along the way. Phil asked me to check the pace as he felt we were running too hard at this early stage. I had not realised it but I had been chatting away with Susan about the Croydon ultra and other events and Phil had dropped back. I then dropped back. The wooded trail opened out to the vast expanse of the North Downs at Limpsfield. A ferociously steep descent after another poorly marked turn and another half a mile out of the way was then met by the massive rise up to Botley Hill and on down to Oxted Down. This was the maximum altitude on the course of 875ft. Phew! We started meeting runners coming back at us on the out-and-back course through the Titsey Estate. The path underfoot was rutted, cracked and quite dangerous, so we slowed right down. The peaceful Surrey air was then punctuated by the evil snake of traffic commonly known as the M25. After traversing this, a gentle incline followed by a bizarre moment. "Run 20m past the check point, turn at the road and then come back" was shouted at the runners! I grabbed 3 cokes, a jaffa cake and a gel for later. Phil was about 5 mins back, so I waited for him and said farewell to Susan. I was met with a confused and almost concussed look as Phil departed for a nearby gate to puke. Oh dear. As we were on a training run, I vowed to stay with him. To be honest, he should have bailed at this point.....but there was no where to go, we were in the middle of nowhere!

I suggested a run-walk strategy. I was hoping of more run than walk but checking the Garmin this morning, 6 miles of walk and 7 miles of run enabled us to get home safely. He did look a mess to be honest, his eyes were rolling like some running fruit machine. There was no pinpoint as to the problem but I was not going to leave him under any circumstances. Phil then wanted to bail at the final check point, stating that I could bring his car back to pick him up. After a DNF for him at the Heart of the Weald (well actually he won the 21 mile race!) I was going to safely beast him to the finish. I think the banter worked. Well perhaps Phil was sick of my incessant cajoling and musings about all sorts of bollocks, suffice that he finish and be done with the sight of me! However after a banana and a water refill at the 20 mile CP, we managed to mainly run (slowly) towards the finish. I gave Phil the rest of my water and gel. A small detour through Selsdon woods on the way back added another half mile owing to not seeing the markers/markers removed by people/course not marked and it was nearly the finish. Across Lloyd Park again and to the finish, we crossed the line in 5 hrs 36 mins and 21 secs. Looking at the splits we spent 31 mins not moving (i.e looking for the route markers or at CPs) and about 6 miles of walking at 18 min miles. Slowest marathon to date but it was good to get Phil back to the living.

Peter Bowles managed a 4hrs 40 and he is a sub 3 so I didn't feel too bad. We caught up with other runners at the end and received a medal and a t-shirt. All of that for a tenner. We vowed to come back next year to beast the course and go sub 4. Possible? Maybe. All in all, a long day out on the trail and 2650ft, it was no cake-walk at 28.5 miles. We will return to this to exorcise those demons.