tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15861784054043501582024-03-12T21:10:13.162-07:00Coppertop runs long Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-3545451654144850442016-11-07T06:16:00.000-08:002016-11-07T06:16:33.443-08:00White Rose 100 <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"100 miles from start to finish, 3 laps of the standard WRU 30 + a 10 mile extension at the end. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">Multi-terrain course with a few fun bits along the way! </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">(</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">fully stocked aid stations every 10 miles, unmanned water stations every 5 miles</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">)"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">^^The blurb for a 30 mile lap, no idea what it means really, <br />but I know it was fucking hilly!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'd looked into this race last year and decided there was too much road for me, but it was still hovering somewhere in the back of my mind. During a run with a mate I mentioned it and he offered to do a recce with me. Perfect, see if it was indeed too much road and if so then at least I'd have seen somewhere new and had a long training run. We did that early October and it all went well, it was so hilly that I figured the amount of hard trail/tarmac didn't matter, it was the hills that'd kill me if anything. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then we got to Wessenden Head and I heard something that chilled my bones. Apparently it's the most recent place they've searched for Keith Bennett. And there's a shrine at the roadhead which really got to me, fucking grim it was. Now some things scare me to the point of vomiting - heights, the dark, spiders - but the moors murderers and spirits really freak me out. Laugh if you like, it is what it is :-) Fuck fuck fuck, what to do. I kept an eye on the entry list for a week or two, figuring I still had plenty of time to think about this. Then Sharon mentioned it was up to 64 entries and so on the spur of the moment I entered. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Race Day dawned, got the 07.36 up to Huddersfield with the kitchen sink in my kit bag then a taxi out to Linthwaite. The race HQ was fab, there were so few ladies in the race that we had a huge cloakroom to ourselves and could spread all our gear out in readiness for our return after each loop. I spent most of the time in there pre-race chilling and chatting. Telling the RD to put safety pins in his mouth wasn't my finest moment but he was teasing me about ghosts so, sorry Wane, but it was called for ;-) Saw Carl, he pointed out his stash of Guinness saying to help myself, I said I'd keep it in mind for later. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then we were off. I think the first half of the loop is definitely harder, a lot of steep uphills through villages and such. The Bog of Doom is about 3 miles in, it had been fine on the recce, but on Saturday it was indeed a splodgy sinky mess. No point wasting time trying to get round it so in we went. By the first CP I'd learned that the girl I was chatting to had serious PB times (she went on to win First Lady) so I let her go at that point and ran my own race. Having such frequent water and feed points is fantastic, being a winter 100 you've enough gear to carry just to cater for the weather so not having to worry about water is a huge bonus. Plus the encouragement from the marshals is always welcome. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I won't go into too much detail about the route, it is lovely though, the views are fantastic from pretty much everywhere. The terrain is a bastard, so many sharp rocky rutted tracks, there were many curses uttered. And as for the farm sideways cobbled tracks, what the fuck, they're clearly put in to save money / discourage anyone from using them (apart from eejit runners). One particular fucker is Plains Lane. Oh God that hurts. Oh and Green Lane, that's evil too. I like the climb up Wessenden, it's a shame it's got that story attached to it, but that's my own personal issue, it wouldn't bug most people I guess. The mile downhill afterwards is fab, till your quads and knees are in bits and you can't actually run it! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Meltham Moor is lovely. It's all quite different to where I usually run in that down here when you're on the moors then you're usually miles away from even a sight of civilisation, whereas up there there are lots of roads and villages but still the same feeling of space and being able to see for miles around. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">'d been chatting to Louise at various points and going up Wessenden as dusk fell it really helped to have her luminous pink shorts and socks to focus on rather than think about spooky things! Plus there were other runners behind us so I got through that bit ok, had a chat with James at the top and then the final 5 miles back to HQ and preparing for the 2nd leg.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Carl was in the hall when I got in and he pressed 2 cans of Guinness on me (ok, he didn't have to press very hard!). I had one of them, half a Pot Noodle, a cup-a-soup, put on tights and more layers and then back out. I think it was about a 25 minute turnaround but I could do it quicker next time. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was dark now but I joined up with Tarne and Dharm and they were great company. The Bog of Doom was quite disorientating in the dark, we ended up going through much more of it than we needed to, ho hum :-) I'd changed my shoes after the 1st loop, started off in Inov-8 Trail Talon 250's, which were grand, but I think the first BoD crossing didn't help and after a couple of hours I realised that the insoles were coming out. They were so muddy after 30 miles I decided to just change into clean 212's and be done with it. They were soon muddy right through as well but did the job. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had my headtorch on but was also carrying a hand torch (as recommended by Graham, thank you it was perfect!!) and never had to worry about changing batteries as I mostly just used the hand torch (£26 from Screwfix, bargain). </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Going up Wessenden for the second time I made sure to stick close to Tarne. Didn't tell him why till we were safely through :-) It was bloody freezing overnight, never been out in conditions like it. Well, Kinder in the hail or snow might compare, but better cold than heat! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Parts of the second loop dragged, parts went quicker, it was hard being out in the dark for so long and we were swaying a bit like drunkards. I said I was going to have a power nap when we got back to HQ and the others agreed. Set my alarm for 15 minutes, didn't sleep at all, said 'fuck it' and set it for another 20. Managed to get a doze in then decided I had better get up and get on with it. I did envy those who had sleeping bags, I was on the floor with my coat over me, but it was definitely the right thing to do, stopping then would've been so easy. There were quite a few bodies lying around and I couldn't make it which ones were Tarne or Dharm. I asked Wane and he said Dharm was still sleeping and Tarne had just left so I ran out in pursuit. Didn't catch him though, and then said fuck it I'm not doing the BoD and those awkward stony trails in the dark in case I go wrong with a foggy brain, so I slowed down and hit the BoD at dawn. Full of cows it was. Bastards. I shouted some made up word (think it was "GIP") to make them move aside, one big bastard wouldn't move and I couldn't be arsed to go around him so I shouted "you can fuck off an' all!!!" and he moved. Idiots. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Texted my Ma around 08.30 to say Happy Birthday, I couldn't text a proper message as my hand was frozen after a few words, so once again apologies for that and sorry for making you tracker watch on your birthday! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Met up with Duncan around Pole Moor and we spent the rest of the race together which was good :-) What loop am I talking about now? Third, daylight, yes. Christ my brain is still foggy. What was particularly lovely about this loop was that the 30 and 60 milers started at 8am and lots of them gave us encouragement as they passed. I've done it before to 100 milers in a race, sometimes thinking "I bet he's thinking "oh piss off I'm in bits and I'm death marching" ", but it really is heartwarming to hear when you're on the receiving end so I'll keep doing it. It was a pity not to be able to run the downhills properly, it is usually where I'll make up a lot of time, but it just hurt too much by then :-) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I think the hardest part of all was getting in to HQ after 90 miles and having to go back out for the final 10 mile loop. That was a total headfuck and I'd rather it was just one 40 mile loop so when you're done you're done. But I guess that's part of this race, having the mental attitude to get back out after each loop regardless. Not sure I'd have done it without Duncan, my Garmin had run out of power so we'd no GPX or idea of how far we'd gone, we were just roaming around looking for arrows in the dark as I'd cleverly left my printed out map at HQ. There were many many curses then and "I'm not doing this fucking race again" etc but we got it done and then, finally, it was the end :-) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">The hardest race yet, without a doubt, I hated parts so much I swore I'd never run them again and happily said goodbye and stuck my middle finger up at them on the final loop. But even before bedtime last night I was thinking about what I could improve on for next time. I need to eat more, boiled eggs didn't work at all, I ended up chucking them as they tasted minging in the cold, chocolate was too hard (apart from Fiona's welcome Mars bar on Wessenden) and I puked a few times. I had loads of Kendal mint cake with me but only ate a quarter of it as it was too much faff to get it out, a waist belt for food might be a good idea. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I reckon, unless another winter race grabs me more next year, I'll be back for this one :-) Once again huge thanks to Wane, Ally, James, Nick and everyone else involved with the race - the organisation and atmosphere were great, I can't fault the markings at all, where I went wrong was down to distraction on my own part, and them being out in that weather and still smiling and giving us encouragement and much needed human contact was marvellous. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I'm so thankful for the great company I had along the way - Louise, Tarne, Dharm and Duncan. Thanks for the encouragement from all those who I'd discussed this race with over the last few weeks while I wondered if I could do it - Nici and Sharon thank you for believing :-) Fiona it was so cool to see you, the hugs and Mars bars were awesome :-) Ally you're a little star, I'll not read any more about Wessenden so if I have to run it on my own int dark next time I'll be ok :-) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">All the photos above were taken on my recce run in October, it was too cold on race day to get the phone out. Definitely things to think about for next time, having run through a Peak District winter I was fairly well prepared for the cold but in reality could've done with another layer, that wind on Wessenden is an evil Arctic bitch. And buffs are good for me for a while then they start to choke me. Maybe a balaclava. If I can find one that doesn't look dodgy! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Right, enough rambling, time for another Epsom salts soak and a beer :-) </span></span></div>
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Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-32513193102963384262015-10-26T04:24:00.000-07:002015-10-26T04:39:09.211-07:00OMM 2015 Tweedsmuir <div style="background: white; line-height: 14.5pt; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">What a bloody brilliant weekend!!!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nD0L_zVvBS4/Vi4JTZ5X3II/AAAAAAAADZA/69Q6xVbVFq8/s1600/DSC_0034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nD0L_zVvBS4/Vi4JTZ5X3II/AAAAAAAADZA/69Q6xVbVFq8/s320/DSC_0034.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OMM October 2015 Tweedsmuir</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When Stu asked me a
while back if I'd like to do the OMM short score with him I had a look at the
website, thought 'Great!! 5 hours Saturday, 4 hours Sunday, maps, find as many
controls as possible - what a fantastic way to get into mountain racing and with
an experienced navigator / fell runner, no chance of getting lost, I've run in
the Lakes plenty, all I ultimately have to do is keep up with him". Ha!
Rookie error #1. Luckily (for me) he was competing with a bad back, otherwise
he'd have gotten at least twice what we got done. Thanks for your patience Stu!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ws26GtDU6go/Vi4KCw9CKhI/AAAAAAAADZU/OinR9LhLVVE/s1600/DSC_0041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ws26GtDU6go/Vi4KCw9CKhI/AAAAAAAADZU/OinR9LhLVVE/s320/DSC_0041.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Control points marked on map</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Arrived up in Moffat
Friday evening, checked into our B&B, then went out for the most lush chips
n gravy I've ever had. Went up to the event centre to register - where a dibber
was attached to my wrist, not to be removed until the end of the event on
Sunday - Stu and various others gave a talk, I'd some beers with the lads, then
back to the B&B for more beer and an earlyish night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Saturday morning we
were up and out by 7.30, a half hour drive to the start and the buzz began. We
dibbed, got our maps and off we went. It'd been raining through the night and
everything was soaked. Within the first hour I knew this was going to be the
toughest race I'd ever taken part in. Those Scottish hills took the Lakes hills
and raised them a dozen. Two hours in and my lungs were burning, my calves were
burning, I'd given up looking at time or anything else apart from just keeping
in motion. I had intended to do my fair share of nav, I'd revised and swotted
up on my nav manual and been out in the Peak District getting some practice in,
but when Stu flew off over a crest and I realised that as he was flying he was
taking a bearing, running on the bearing, checking the bearing and all without
even breaking pace I thought “fucking hell, fucking fucking hell, just
watch and learn and keep the fuck up as best you can".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Most of Day One is a
blur now, it was so fucking hard. The terrain took whatever I've run on before
and laughed at it and spat it right back out at me. Really wet technical steep
bracken/bog/hummocky stuff, very very hard to get any running rhythm going for
long at all. Highlights were the views on one of the many tops (it was mostly
long climbs up then long steep descents, I got to the point where a gentler
uphill became a 'flat bit'). I saw a winter hare, that was awesome. And the
mountain views were amazing </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Lost count of how many shin/knee deep streams we crossed. The
feet were wet from the start, deal with it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">We got 130 points on
Day One, quite a respectable score when checked with the others we spoke to
that afternoon, got back to camp around 2 and started to get the tent up. My
first ever night camping </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 11pt;">J</span></div>
<div align="center" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-no-proof: yes;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_14" o:spid="_x0000_i1031"
type="#_x0000_t75" style='width:234.75pt;height:176.25pt;rotation:90;
visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square'>
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o:title=""/>
</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4C6I7mMXXbk/Vi4JDWZCkJI/AAAAAAAADYg/JJ6ZRhQQ5k8/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4C6I7mMXXbk/Vi4JDWZCkJI/AAAAAAAADYg/JJ6ZRhQQ5k8/s320/DSC_0008.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stu and our tent</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I think in all there
were around 3000 competitors across the various classes, all camped in this
massive field. It was very cool to be sat outside our tent chatting with Kim
Collison and having a cup of tea </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 11pt;">J</span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> Then a bit later it pissed it down so we went up to the barn
shelter where I was quite starstruck to be stood there chatting with Jim Mann,
Kim and Adam Perry about the race. Hardcore guys, I'd freeze to death if I
carried the lightweight gear they carried. Helene Diamantides and Wendy Dodds were also
there but I missed them.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WgdsH8tFS68/Vi4JEX5cZSI/AAAAAAAADYk/u0Oi4HjBQSg/s1600/DSC_0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WgdsH8tFS68/Vi4JEX5cZSI/AAAAAAAADYk/u0Oi4HjBQSg/s320/DSC_0006.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Overnight camp starting to get busy</td></tr>
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</span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-no-proof: yes;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_1" o:spid="_x0000_i1030"
type="#_x0000_t75" style='width:248.25pt;height:186.75pt;visibility:visible;
mso-wrap-style:square'>
<v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\Jacqui\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image007.jpg"
o:title=""/>
</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I was bloody hungry
yesterday, I had thought "ah, 5 hours running, that won't take too much to
fuel". Rookie error #2 I was bloody starving by about 2.5 hours in. But
the uphills were so steep that I couldn't breathe plus eat on them, then the
downhills needed so much concentration to stay upright with the backpack on
that I didn't eat then either. Got to a point where I was swaying around and
after I'd fallen about 5 times in 10 minutes I stopped to eat. One of those
times I went knee deep into a rabbit hole or summat on a descent at speed,
which just couldn't be helped, but the others were partly my fault. You just
can't imagine the effort that you'll be expending when you haven't done one of
these things before. I was easily as tired at the end of Day One as after a 40
mile trail run. Possibly more actually. I brought packets of dried cup a pasta
or something, which was great as you could just chuck it in a cup and boil
water on the stove but to be honest I'd have eaten at least 6 packets
afterwards if I'd had them. And I got through almost 2 bars of Kendal mintcake
over the 2 days racing. Unheard of. I'd usually get through half a bar in a
weekend of Lakes running.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Stu'd tipped me off
to bring plastic bags for my feet to use at camp, as my shoes would be too wet
to wear comfortably. We had to carry all of our kit with us and be totally
self-sufficient, this meant carrying clothes, food, tent, stove, sleeping bags
and all the overnight camp stuff with us whilst racing. Unfortunately, after
swapping out for my one pair of spare dry socks, I discovered that my plastic
bags were fucking leaking. Cue wet feet for 2 days</span> <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Next time I'll bring proper posh M&S ones!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7LXu4MOST48/Vi4K88rn9ZI/AAAAAAAADZg/F7v4RjUVmmU/s1600/DSC_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7LXu4MOST48/Vi4K88rn9ZI/AAAAAAAADZg/F7v4RjUVmmU/s320/DSC_0013.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Overnight camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">There was a brilliant
atmosphere at the camp, a massive field full of muddy excited knackered runners
- what could be better! Beer would've been nice but we'd have had to carry it
all day. Feck that!</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c_Ma_VrTKI0/Vi4JBGwDAfI/AAAAAAAADYU/sKxKWy43SYA/s1600/DSC_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c_Ma_VrTKI0/Vi4JBGwDAfI/AAAAAAAADYU/sKxKWy43SYA/s320/DSC_0015.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Runners coming down the hill</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L7IgWREoMUw/Vi4JHLuhOzI/AAAAAAAADYs/fzLk_ypKYpc/s1600/DSC_0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L7IgWREoMUw/Vi4JHLuhOzI/AAAAAAAADYs/fzLk_ypKYpc/s320/DSC_0016.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Properly dark now, though probably only 8pm, it was an early night! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uEYa5AyygH4/Vi4JKXu6x9I/AAAAAAAADY0/ftK3ZjYzi6c/s1600/DSC_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uEYa5AyygH4/Vi4JKXu6x9I/AAAAAAAADY0/ftK3ZjYzi6c/s320/DSC_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How many layers? - longsleeved race top, Icebreaker base layer, Tog24 layer, Montane Prism jacket, Montane Minimus; Skins, race tights and waterproof trousers - all just to wear in camp to keep warm! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I slept in a
brilliant sleeping bag and bivvy bag but still needed 2 pairs of leggings, my
longsleeved running top, a base layer and a fleece and a woolly hat to keep
warm. It's flipping cold outdoors up there at night! Had a fairly decent sleep
on and off, then a bagpipe player woke us up on Day Two at 5.45. Bastid. We
were starting at 8 today so we got the stove going, had a brew and some food,
then packed the tent etc away and got ready to race.</span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The first hill really
nearly fucking killed me. So so steep. I couldn't look to the side or behind me
because I was getting dizzy from the height of it. And it went on forever. "Breathe
and not fall backwards" was all I could do. The controls on Day Two were
quite spread out and there was a large out of bounds area due to some deer hunt
and men with guns. We got to the first control then had a look at the options.
I knew I was too tired from Saturday to climb down to what was option 1 and all
the way back up again so we bypassed that and planned a different route. Thank
Christ!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This was much more
like running in the Lakes, lots of rocky tracks and runnable knee deep bracken.
My ITB kicked off about 2 hours in, I could only be thankful that it at least
waited until the 'easier' day to be a bollocks! I was still fucking wrecked by
the end though and so so happy to see that finish line. I just had nothing more
in me! 100 points today, which again turned out to be quite good as a lot of
people we spoke to settled for a 70 due to the restricted area and strung out
points.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I didn't take any
photos while racing, the phone stayed in a dry bag, but no doubt there'll be
loads on FB / the OMM website.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Brilliant race,
atmosphere, people, setup, event etc etc - I'll definitely be back for more
next year, and now that I know how fucking tough it is I can prepare properly!!
Thanks a million Stu for having me along, it was great fun (though at the time
some of it definitely wasn't!!) and it's something I'll certainly be doing more
of </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UNAcT4QUD-I/Vi4JPwZNC8I/AAAAAAAADY8/11dbkGC2tDA/s1600/DSC_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UNAcT4QUD-I/Vi4JPwZNC8I/AAAAAAAADY8/11dbkGC2tDA/s320/DSC_0030.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very happy to be finished, but already looking forward to the next one</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b><br /></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>The Serious Stuff</b></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<u><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Clothing:<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The effort expended
on the uphills on Day One meant that I just wore a cap, longsleeved top, tights
and shorts, with gloves from time to time. It didn’t rain heavily enough while
we were out to need waterproofs on. Very
reassuring though to know that I had all of the right kit with me in my pack in
the event of worsening weather or emergency. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Day Two was much
windier and colder and I wore the above plus my Minimus and gloves for all but
the last few kilometres. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A rookie error and
leaking plastic bags meant that out of 3 pairs of socks 2 were soaked through
and 1 were damp. Not a biggie for Day Two as my feet were wet as soon as we got
going anyway but dry socks in bed would have been nice. *Bring strong plastic
bags and guard dry socks preciously! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<u><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Fuelling: <o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As mentioned
previously I had no idea of how tough this was going to be, and really could
have done with eating more, and doing so more frequently. This is a common
problem of mine in races, but on something like this it’s definitely important
to get used to eating regardless of whether you’re going up or down hill as,
unlike in a trail ultra, there is no time to stop to eat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I also could have
done with more food for the overnight camp, in future I’ll soldier the extra
weight in order to have a full belly! My emergency rations consisted of half a
large bar of Fruit and Nut chocolate – about 500 calories worth. There probably are lighter options but I’ll
find that out for next time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<u><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Gear: <o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As this was my first
mountain event Stu loaned me a sleeping bag and bivvy bag, and we shared his
tent and stove. Very useful to put this into practice in a race situation and
how to pack/unpack efficiently and quickly.
And also to find out where to source decent kit without spending
megabucks. Running with this kind of
pack over rough terrain is very different to running with, say, an S-lab with
mandatory trail ultra kitlist. Another thing to practice </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-34834058739817869862015-06-16T04:47:00.001-07:002015-06-16T04:47:52.121-07:00SDW100 - first attempt<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MfbHPa3BuVg/VYAMdUpJEwI/AAAAAAAAC0o/TEHulQNpDKg/s1600/11402682_10153515139810628_7428721861467065695_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="143" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MfbHPa3BuVg/VYAMdUpJEwI/AAAAAAAAC0o/TEHulQNpDKg/s320/11402682_10153515139810628_7428721861467065695_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to Peter G for the photo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sitting here with my feet in a bucket of ice water I’ve decided to forgo the bottle of wine and copious “I’m gutted” tears and instead have a good hard look at this race, take the positives, deal with the negatives and see what I can take to my next race at this distance. Whilst cursing a bit at how fucking cold this water is. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was reasonably confident going into this, nervous and scared yes, but also utterly determined to “get that bloody buckle if it killed me”. Knowing that I had Graham to pace me from Chantry Post to Ditchling Beacon and then Sharon to the finish really gave me a boost as I was totally into unknown territory. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I travelled down to Winchester on the Friday afternoon, checked into my hotel and then got registration, kit check etc. done. Very handy to do this the day before and then only have to drop off my finish bag on the morning. I don’t think I’ve ever arrived at a race just half an hour before kickoff! Caught up with loads of people and then it was time to run. It was very humid even from early on but I had a schedule and I stuck to it. I was delighted to get the chance to run with my Favourite Runner Ever for a few miles, though let him go ahead when I had to stop for the first of an unusual number of pee stops. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The first half of the course is quite different to the second, lots of woods, which are very pretty but there was no air in there at all, so we were already looking forward to getting up ont tops and having a bit of a breeze blowing. First time I've ever looked forward to running the 'second' 50 miles! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Checkpoints 1, 2 and 3 came and went, with the usual fab attention from the Centurion volunteers and some delicious gingerbread biscuits from Rachel at Harting Downs. I was very glad of these as I was already struggling to eat in the heat, and ended up carrying sandwich bags of stuff from aid stations and then not even touching them. Crap, there’s still one in my S-lab *must empty out and wash. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shortly after leaving CP3 I realised that the amount of grit in my shoes was becoming a problem I needed to attend to, more so than just stopping and emptying them out every half hour. Can’t complain about the shoes but Drymax socks may have been a mistake – too much sweating and sliding about combined with the grit/stones bit me on the arse all day and ultimately did me in. Plus I forgot to swap out the insoles. Knew I’d forget something! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Got to Cocking, CP4, and did my one and only FB post of the day. Well I had to get a cocking in somewhere. Sat here for what must have been 20 minutes in all, putting on gauze pads and zinc oxide tape. Peter G caught up with me here and we continued on up another chalky flinty hardass hill. Both of us were really feeling the effects on our feet by now and the language was mighty. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Can’t say I looked at the views much, which is a bit of a shame, but my focus was on trying to avoid the bastard stones as much as possible whilst feeling like I was running on broken glass. And boy how we prayed for some grass to run on, any little verges at all were greeted with delight. Butser Hill was an absolute dream to run down, can't remember now where that was, but ooh I'd love to have a hill like that near me, I'd be on it every day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Can’t remember Bignor Hill or Kithurst Hill in much detail apart from they were fuckoff hills and everyone at the aid stations was lovely and attentive. Think I’m getting a reputation for my language at these things as someone remembered and commented on my rant at Southease during the 50! Peter and I were managing to keep a nice cushion against cutoffs and I wasn’t worrying about time at this stage, just keeping an eye on it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I met up with Graham at Chantry Post and off we went. We ran on to Washington where I told Elvis he was looking sexy. Couldn’t face any food here but had a tea or coffee, something hot, and got going again. Coming into Botolphs I needed to have a look at the feet again so we sat there for a bit while I did that. Graham, bless him, actually cleaned my feet for me and re-bandaged them. Pacers are amazing! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I really struggled going up Bleeding Arse Hill, stopping several times to catch my breath. It helped a bit that it was dark so I couldn’t see the bloody thing and we got to the top quicker than I expected. Eventually got down to Saddlescombe Farm but by this point I’d had the first of a few mini-meltdowns due to the pain and asked Graham to get my bottles filled as I didn’t want to see or speak to anyone. Lisa gave me a hug and God knows what gibberish I came out with. Said hi to Kevin and then we got out of there and going again, as far as around the corner where I knelt on the grass and puked. I had way too much liquid sloshing around in my gut with nothing to soak it up. Silly girl. Some lovely blokes stopped and asked if I wanted someone to stay with me. Still surprised sometimes at how bloody brilliant runners are in a race situation. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By now the time cushion was severely eaten into due to me not being able to run or even hike fast. Graham did his absolute utmost to keep me going, checking on my electrolytes, coaxing me to eat, trying to distract me from the grimness of the feet, and we did have some laughs, but I got to a point where I was just saying “okay” to every thing the poor guy said, regardless of context. I must have been like a child to deal with, but I guess at least I wasn’t cranky (right Graham?!). </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I can’t remember now exactly where it was that I decided I had to drop, maybe a couple of miles out of Saddlesore, but I knew that as I was not eating or drinking I had no chance of getting some renewed burst of energy to get me through the rest of the night if I couldn’t make up any time by even running on grass anymore and to be honest I was just sick of being in fucking pain with every single step and could not do another 8 hours of it just getting worse. Outside Pyecombe Golf Course I asked Graham to ring Sharon and tell her that I was so sorry but I was going to drop at Clayton. I couldn’t even speak to her for crying so Graham had the grim task. Then we trundled up and up what seemed the longest 2 or 3 miles of my life. I was stopping pretty often to lean on the poles and take the weight off the feet for a minute. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We eventually got to Clayton, buggered if I noticed any windmills up there, though the lights at the aid station were cool. Graham then ran over to Ditching Beacon to pick up his car, while the lovely people there wrapped me in a foil blanket, sat me down and fed me hot sugary tea. Graham then drove me all the way to Eastbourne to get my finish bag, where Nici said I could sleep in her van for a few hours and then go back to London with her afterwards. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am glad I did that, it was lovely to see people finishing and to catch up with Roni, Paul, Natasha, Nikki etc. I got to see my FRE finish and have another chat with him. Saw the last runner come in with seconds to spare, nailbiting stuff. And then we left for London. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My feet are fucking killing me, and no doubt I’m going to be sore/stiff for a few days after the distance, but now I’ve decided to just get the fuck over my pityfest I don’t regret giving it a go. I’ll be back next year, having done a tough ‘recce’ of the course! And before that I have Skiddaw and the A100 to look forward to. I’ll get that buckle :-) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
*Disclaimer - this was written on Sunday evening, with no promises of geographical / logical / actual accuracy :-) </div>
Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-77356494673496034422015-04-05T15:28:00.001-07:002015-04-05T15:28:07.564-07:00SDW50 revisited <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
Just been out to buy some ‘milk’ to continue the
rehydrating and, even though every step on my swollen very unsexy feet hurt, I
walked with a smile on my face just thinking back on what a great day yesterday
was. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
No photos on this one sorry, I didn't even take my phone out till near the end when I went to check the time and realised I'd lost my wrist watch (don't suppose I left it at the Alfriston CP?) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
I hadn’t really had too much time to think about
this race in advance, what with work related stuff and that kind of shite, but in the final few days
beforehand I did get excited and was looking forward to catching up with some good running friends. Apart from a lot of B2B weekends training had been fairly intermittent (aka shit) and I've learned a big valuable lesson for what the next couple of months need to contain. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
Met up with Ian in Eastbourne on the Friday evening where we once again
stayed at the Fraggle Hotel. Thankfully Ian
agreed that food and drink in the lounge was a better idea than going out, and
so I was back in my room by half 10 and asleep by midnight, pretty good for a
pre race night. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
The alarm went off at 5.15, Jesus how rude, and
then followed many cups of coffee and a minging porridge pot which I looked at
for 20 minutes before finally eating.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
Off on the train to Brighton where we changed over
to the train to Worthing. Maybe it seems a bit cackhanded to stay at the finish
line and travel back over to the start, but it makes such a difference at the
end to be able to just get in a cab and be back at the hotel, showered and
refuelling (lying on a couch in the 24hour bar) so quickly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
Registration, kit check etc were all indoors this
time and it was great to have everything all in one place, especially the
toilets. It made me laugh to think how I
was scared of Gary at last year’s kit check and this year I queued especially
to get his desk. I managed to see just about everyone I was hoping to see at
Registration – Nici, Gary, Kevin, Rachel, Laureda and Michael, Sharon, John,
Janette, Graham and several others - and it was lovely to get so many smiles
and hugs before the race started. Tracey
you made me laugh so much on the way to the start, delighted we’ve finally met
in person! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
We did miss most of the race briefing due to
queuing to fill our water bottles and I think this nearly bit me on the arse
later on at Saddlescombe *note to self – don’t miss race briefing and read aid
station notes properly! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Unlike last year I did enjoy the
chalky rutted uphills to Chanctonbury Ring, getting up there and into the race ‘proper’
was a nice feeling. The weather was good
and for most of the race I was in t-shirt, armwarmers and windbreaker (and
tights, of course) – very different from last year when all the gear was used
and I could’ve done with an extra layer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
By the time we got to Botox (the
map name is misspelled) I could see that Ian wasn’t happy and, although we knew
his knee could become an issue, it was worrying to see it manifesting so early
on. Hugs from the lovely Galwayman there
and then on to the bastard Beeding(?) Hill. I’d hit a horrendous low at this
point last year, which lasted for a good few miles, so I was very mindful of
eating and drinking early on to avoid this.
Unfortunately our worst fears came to pass and at the top gate Ian’s
knee completely went. Seeing a friend in such pain and then having to see him drop and then leave him to rush on to make up time was truly
shit. We’d talked about this race for so long, but he made the right call, and
Ian if you’re reading this get to the fucking physio ASAP!!! I will nag you
until you do.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
There were 2 blokes behind me on
bikes all the way up the rest of the hill. For some reason I thought they were
sweepers and I was properly fucked off to see them already! I decided to listen to some music to gee
myself up a bit, hadn’t brought my running earphones though, so ended up
holding the stupid thing in my ear as I plodded on swearing internally. The 2 blokes eventually passed me and said
hello. They weren’t sweepers at all. I’m
an eejit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The next CP was just over 5 miles
away, and I kicked myself into gear to catch up with the others. I was so happy
to meet up with Tracey again and even though we didn’t get to chat much as we
were working hard it was lovely to share the trail and views with her and we
got some choice language in. Thanks Tracey <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The CP at Saddlescombe wasn’t
where I expected it to be *see note above about listening to the race briefing
etc, but I did eventually find it and some nice friendly faces. Great to see
Jane there. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Somewhere between Saddlescombe
and Pyecombe Golf Course I heard a choice unrepeatable phrase shouted behind me.
I turned around thinking “what the fuck is Gary doing out here?”, realised that it was not Gary on a bike, and then realised it was my other lunatic partner in
crime John Farr, who’d watched the live tracking and cycled out to see me.
Thank you you mad git, it was fantastic to see you and I’ll be out at VLM to
return the abuse! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Up another hill, I think, and at
some point along the top we passed a field with Herdwicks in it, Tracey must’ve
thought I was mental, but I was so happy to see them. One of my favourite things and it was a
lovely boost. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Last year that hill down into
Housedean Farm had been an utter swearaloud quad killer, this year it happened
quicker than I expected, and it was a great happy run down into the CP. I think it was Stuart March I passed on the
way in? What a fab big smile! Love the
Centurion gang. Very surprised and happy to see
Ian here, he’d decided to stay on and help out at the CP’s. So we filled up the
water, got some food, and marched on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Some more ups and downs, along
the tops, I stopped along the way to get my smock back on as the wind was quite
biting and lost Tracey and another girl for a bit. Caught up again and had a
good sweary slog to the next CP. I’ve
just had to look at the map again, it’s all a bit blurry, but I’m sure it was
at Southease that the guys really picked me back up after that godawful fucking
horrendous evil shitbag Yellow Brick Road. Hated it last year, it nearly broke me this
year, next time I’m going to break IT <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> Thanks again to Gary, Ian and the wonderful
crisps providers. Apologies for my language, but I think it was probably there
that my race turned around and I got my head right and back into the game. Thank you for the excellent support.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’d decided to keep the map
screen on my watch, rather than looking at pace etc, fast hike the ups, fly the downs and march/run the flats, and just kept an eye on
mile splits. Fighting cutoffs is a bitch, I’m not going to put myself in that
position next time. I managed to get quite a few ‘faster’ miles in at a point of
the race where usually I’d be deathmarching it so that was a good morale boost
to have. Along the top a sheep was scratching it’s
head against a post, two hikers stopped to look at it, then as I passed I caught
it’s eye and laughed, and continued to laugh as the sheep turned it’s head and
watched me for about 2 minutes. The
hikers must’ve thought I was bloody mad. I managed to resist going over to rub two gorgeous lambs that came over to the fence as I passed. Race head on, see. <o:p></o:p></div>
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More lovely scenery along the way
to Alfriston whilst singing ‘Galveston’ in my head and some fab downhill
running. I’d totally lost the plot with
eating by now, nothing at all was going in but Kendal mint cake. And when I got to the point where I couldn’t
even chew that I just marched along with bits of it dissolving in my cheek like
a squirrel. Total race saver. Lifelong debt to Rachel Lonergan! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Coming into Star Lane was fab, I
knew at this point I had the back of it broken and was going to make it. It was nice to win the mental battle – that shit
is very tiring! Absolute gold star
service there, Mary Knapp you’re a doll.
Great to see Sharon again, thanks for another hug and smiles. Went to
the loo then set about getting my headtorch, hat etc out rather than doing it
out on top later on. Ian was here as
well, great to see my partner in crime throughout the race <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> Mike Hawker you’re a little legend you are, I
hope I managed to smile and convey my thanks enough for all the stuff you got
for me there. Nikki it feels like I saw
you a hundred times yesterday, or maybe your smiles and hugs have an extra long
staying power, thank you <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>
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Put on my Prism and headtorch,
filled some bags with nuts and fruit, and off out again. It helped so much here
that I’ve run this bit loads of times and wasn’t worried about having to do
some of it in the dark alone. About
halfway up the lane to Windover Hill I was way overheating so took off the
Prism and marched on. Windover really
took it out of my legs, I remember standing at the top looking through a bag of
nuts for a peanut and laughing aloud at what Nikki and I had said at Alfriston
about this. The people at Centurion races really are what makes the experience
so good. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Got up onto the top and stopped
to put my smock back on as it was getting a bit nippy. I heard voices coming up
behind me and that gave me a kick to get a move on. Apologies to whoever it
was, I wasn’t being rude, I just needed to get the job done so thank you for
spurring me on! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Coming into the woods on the approach
to Jevington I decided to turn my headtorch on to see better in the dusk and
get a shift on. Really enjoyed that bit. Through the churchyard and in to see
the lovely Paul and Roni. Sorry I couldn’t
stomach any cake Roni, I didn’t get my nutrition right yesterday at all, I
should’ve taken some cake with me for afterwards!
There was another guy there who I’m sure I know, but names were escaping
me at that point sorry <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> went to the loo again, had a chat and then
on to the home stretch. <o:p></o:p></div>
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That bit up Willingdon Hill
seemed to take longer than I remembered, but the moon was huge and amazing and
right in front of me all the way up, it was peaceful and calm out, and I was
just so glad to know I was nearly done and going to make it after all. Drew (I think, headtorches and friendly voices
were all I took in at this point) was at the trig point to guide myself and
another runner onto the descent into Eastbourne. God that is still an evil one no matter how
many times you do it. I met up with
Tracey again along here. </div>
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Got myself down
into the residential bit, and got back into a ‘run’. The straight road (Kings
Drive I think) was at least twice as long as I remembered, but as a consolation
the cycle track felt a bit shorter. Down
into the race track finally, gravity and a serious need for the toilet
propelling me forward at this point. I think I managed to break into a
shuffling zombie jog for the final 100 metres and then that was it, job done <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> <o:p></o:p></div>
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Beer from Ian’s drop bag, hot
food, seeing Tracey finish (you’re a proper battler missus, so glad we got to
run together, well bloody done again). Lovely to see Rachel and Michael again, thank
you for the cheeriness, I will return the favour at NDW50. Hugs from Nici,
Gary, Emiko, it’s all a blur really, so many of you guys popped up all over the
place and it really helped to get through each stretch knowing I was going to
see a friend soon. Thank you all most
sincerely. See you at the next one x<o:p></o:p></div>
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Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-35691231322728135582014-11-12T15:05:00.001-08:002014-11-12T15:05:34.059-08:00Return to the Lake District (aka SDOTF) - Part 2<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Sunday 9th November 2014 </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today's adventure</span> started appreciably later than Saturday's, a veritable lie in with a daylight start. We were doing the Fairfield Horseshoe anticlockwise - Ambleside to Rydal, taking in 8 Wainwrights along the way. Anticlockwise avoids doing a nasty neverending ascent up the hobbit steps of Nab Scar. We saved that joy for last. Worked out well though, I didn't give much of a fuck about anything by the time we got there! </div>
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When Nici first mentioned this route to me I had a quick Google. Jaysus, some ascent and then a long long time up on the ridge, with a long long way to fall down (not that I was planning to do that). I'm not the best with heights, I'll get dizzy if I let go of the handrail going up on the Tube escalator, so I decided to watch some Youtube videos to prepare* myself. </div>
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*hafuckingha</div>
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Most of these Youtube videos were done clockwise and on lovely sunny days. It sounded like a good hearty hike with a bit of vertigo thrown in for fun. Bring it on! </div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Official bl</span>urb: </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>The horseshoe walk is a 16 kilometre journey with 1100 metres of ascent and includes the peaks of:</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Low Pike (508 metres)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>High Pike (656 metres)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Dove Crag (792 metres)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Hart Crag (822 metres)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Fairfield (873 metres)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Great Rigg (766 metres)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Heron Pike (612 metres)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Nab Scar (440 metres)</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n0udYwqo4cs/VGPOkNTN_gI/AAAAAAAACdU/I1UeFNDhgHc/s1600/GAH.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n0udYwqo4cs/VGPOkNTN_gI/AAAAAAAACdU/I1UeFNDhgHc/s640/GAH.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can't get the elevation bit to save as a separate pic, Windows 8 is a twonk </td></tr>
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James had sent Nici a very handy link for the local weather, which warned us that temperatures would be below freezing above 700m. Seeing as that would be the greater part of our journey we were very glad of that warning and packed accordingly. </div>
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By the time we got to the edge of Ambleside the rain was getting heavy so we decided to stop there and then and get the waterproofs on. From that point I was wearing an Icebreaker longsleeved base layer, a technical tee and Montane Minimus, with full length tights and shorts. I don't think I've ever worn that much to run in apart from in the snow. I was very glad of it though. </div>
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A nice brisk walk up to Low Sweden Bridge and then we started the ascent through fields. It was pretty, looking back and seeing Ambleside below, but my God it starts off climbing and doesn't let up. Eventually we came to the wall that we would be keeping to for most of the way to Hart Crag. It was pretty cold already but great to be on the way. The ground soon became boggy and progress slowed as we tried not to get stuck in it. </div>
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Somewhere between Low Brock Crags and High Brock Crags (wet craggy bastards) is a thing called the Bad Step. We took a couple of close up looks at it, said "fuck that" and diverted down into a field for a bit before climbing back up to meet the wall. </div>
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Along here we ran into the Bog of Doom *SDOTF. It must've taken a good 15 or 20 minutes to get across that bastard. It was funny and surreal but at the same time we couldn't afford to lose a shoe to it or that was the day ruined so we had to be careful. The tip of my feckin pole got stuck in the middle of it and came off, I could see it gradually sinking and tried to get it back out, splashing some bogmud up at Nici in the process, but I soon had to admit defeat as the bog wouldn't relinquish it's grip and so I left it there to eventually work it's way down through to China. </div>
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<b>Low Pike</b> was a bit of "are we there yet?" as there is no cairn, the wall goes directly over the peak, which involved a fair bit of scrabbling over wet rocks. And we couldn't see much anyway so if the non existent cairn had been over to the side it could do one. </div>
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The clag was coming in heavily now and we really couldn't see very far around us at all, probably a good thing. Just continuous walls of rock looming ahead of us in the mist. The terrain was mostly bog and wet rock. Our gloves soon got wet from scrambling up rock slabs with streams running down them *lesson learned - I need better gloves for this kind of thing, my hands really got bloody cold, and early on too (I had meant to wear 2 pairs but forgot a pair). At points there'd be a steep rockface ahead and you wouldn't be able to see if there was a way around without going right up to the edge of it. Nici very kindly checked these bits out, knowing I was struggling a bit with the heights thing. </div>
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At some point along here the various directions or whatever we'd read had recommended climbing over the wall from east to left side as the terrain was easier. That may have been at the Brock Crags, I can't really remember. What I DO remember is trying to climb over a wet chin-height wall with pissing rain, wind, stones moving on the top of it and fucking hell that was a mission! Of course there wasn't a convenient stepping stone down off it, only eejits use walls like that for climbing over, but after a lot of faffing and squealing and laughter we got over the bugger. </div>
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We were steadily gaining height now, yet still coming across cow pats. Bloody weirdos, what the hell are they doing up there? There's more bog and stone than grass, and none of it on the level. Copious amounts of shit at that, they really need to stop eating hikers.</div>
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Somewhere along this ascent I put a Buff around my face, one over my head, put my cap back on, pulled my hood up, and put on an extra gilet. Thank Christ I did. </div>
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Let's take it that we're on the approach to <b>Dove Crag</b> now ok, I can remember screeching at Nici at one point (when very wet and tired from all the rock scrambling) "why aren't there any fucking signposts or nameplates on these things?". I think there not being a cairn on Low Pike threw me a little, I hadn't realised until writing this blog that it doesn't have one. Think you're well prepared for something, then go back and do some more prep!! More feckin lessons learned. </div>
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The Inov-8 212s totally earned their place in my heart today though. My God those shoes are great. Steep grassy banks, streams running down over rock, bogskating - they handled it all and gave me a lot more much needed confidence in those conditions (I'm not moaning about the conditions btw, what else would you expect on the fells in November, but fucking hell it was tougher than anything I've ever been out for that long in). </div>
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Suddenly out of nowhere the clag lifted and we got a few minutes of Heaven :-) I think we both danced a bit for joy, then I grabbed my camera to record the moment. Sight of the western side of the Horseshoe was amazing, I'm so glad that we did get a few minutes here and there where we could see the views. Next time I'll do this one in the summer. But it was good to get it done in such shitty conditions and rise to the challenge. </div>
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It was a very ultra-like day in that the language and topics of conversation were most definitely not what you'd want your elderly aunt to hear. I was having a loud rant about my knickers going up my arse and various other unmentionables when something made me look around and there were two bloody men running up behind me. I think the wind blew my words away from them though, they didn't look too shocked. </div>
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Onwards and upwards to <b>Dove Crag</b>. No feckin birds out in this weather, they've more sense. Oh, I've just looked at the fell race map and it says to cross the wall here for better going. Maybe that's where we had our climbing wall episode, not where I put it above. Ah well. We climbed a big wall. Somewhere. </div>
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Met some nice bloke up here, he seemed to want to stop and chat but we were just too bloody cold and wet to hang about. Shame. Ah well, I'm sure he survived without our scintillating convo. </div>
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At <b>Dove Crag</b> was a kind of turning point, onto the top U of the horseshoe, it was a nice point to finally reach. Nici had the route on her GPS thingy and it was a Godsend. I had it on my 310 but because we had to 'divert' around bog etc he kept bleeping and telling me I was 'off course' which really fucked me off after a while so I switched him back to normal view. We both had good maps and I'd a compass I was prepared to use, but with such cold hands it would've been a mission. Again, lesson learned, dress for the cold and wet and then dress some more. </div>
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I have no pictures or videos for the next couple of miles. The clag was down to about 2-3 feet visibility, there were serious drops to either side (which we couldn't see), and my hands were too fucking cold to hold anything but my stick. I don't think I've ever concentrated so hard on anything in my life. We were already knackered from the ascent and battling over the water/rocks, now we were onto a section that was so disorientating in the clag that it was actually quite scary. </div>
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Obviously we weren't running on this part, following the GPS was the main priority. At one point I started shivering uncontrollably, my core had been toasty up till then, and I must admit it worried me a bit. We dressed adequately, the only error made was the gloves, but on a bad day that would be error enough. I think this must've been around Link Hause. We heard voices but couldn't see where the hell they were coming from. Of course if we'd really been stuck then we'd have shouted but taking it slowly and carefully kept us on track for Fairfield. </div>
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Then the clag lifted and we saw around us. I think I saw Helvellyn, I saw something bloody amazing anyway, but without my compass out I didn't know what direction it was for sure so I'll take it as that one. </div>
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We also saw Fairfield up ahead, with happy people on the top, so I said to Nici "come on let's run for it while we can see the fucking thing!". So we did. Till the clag drew back in. </div>
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Let's throw in a picture of the Horseshoe now so you can see what we had been hoping to see! And what we did go around :-) </div>
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Got to the summit in one piece anyhow, there was a group of people having sandwiches in the shelter so we walked over to some crumbled wall or something and had a brief shelter from the wind while having some food and sorting the direction down off it. </div>
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Then the clag descended again and all signs of life vanished. We reckon we were the only ones up there that day, the rest were ghosts. Sinners doomed to forever roam the Fairfield Horseshoe. Like Albert and Marigold on the 505 *SDOTF</div>
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At one point I said to Nici "that's the edge there and you know what? I don't give a fuck anymore! fuck the fucking edge!" I tend to get a bit cranky when I'm scared :-) </div>
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From this point we got in some lovely running. The feet were soggy anyway, I'd foam coming up through the 212s for the last couple of hours, so there was no point avoiding the streams anymore. Nici indulged in some mud running and sliding, very funny to watch. </div>
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The peaks over this side were easier to get up as well, still steep but there was no shitey rockslab scrambling as there had been on the eastern side. So glad we did that bit first though, that would've been quite gruelling on tired legs. </div>
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<b>Great Rigg</b> was the next peak after Fairfield, don't remember much of that tbh, claggy hill, hilly clag, nuff said. </div>
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The Herdwicks made an appearance up here and what a lovely welcoming sight they were. I reckon that any place where Herdwicks are has to be pretty cool. </div>
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And so we carried on - running, slipping, sliding, hiking, laughing - to <b>Heron Pike</b>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think that's Heron Pike, or thereabouts, comes in the right sequence of my photos anyway</td></tr>
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The temperature was noticeably 'warmer' here, thank God, and as we were descending we finally caught sight of Rydal Water and on the other side some of the valley of the Horseshoe itself. Fabulous. </div>
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Down, down, down and onto the steps of <b>Nab Scar</b>. Jesus wept. Zig zag down down down. You'd get to the curve and think that surely must be it, but no, more legs of these slidey hobbit steps. Beautiful place, but fuckin hell we were tired by then, it needed to end! </div>
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And then it did :-) Past William Wordsworth's gaff, down a manky ribbed concrete lane, ouch, and then 17 miles back into Ambleside (not really, felt like it though). </div>
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And so the end of the adventure. Would I do it again? Hell yeah! Am I going to invest in serious winter gloves? Fuck yeah! </div>
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I don't think there's anything we need to do differently, apart from better gloves. We got the fuelling right, kept moving, realised when we were possibly heading for a little trouble with regards to shivering and dealt with it, double and treble checked directions when in low visibility, all in all a very valuable fell experience. On the hairy parts, and especially when sprawled hands and knees clawing my way up rockfaces, I really just wanted it to be fucking over, but I guess the fear of heights is still there to be tackled and with time and more exposure I'll get there. The trekking pole was an absolute essential and it would've been so much harder without it, even sans tip!</div>
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The date for the next Lake District visit hasn't been set as yet, but when it is I'll be counting the days. It's so hard to leave though that one day I just shan't*</div>
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<i>*not in a SDOTF way though </i></div>
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Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-77787812944432405992014-11-10T15:02:00.001-08:002014-11-10T15:02:11.736-08:00Return to the Lake District (aka She Died On The Fells) - Part 1 <div style="text-align: justify;">
Having been to the Lake District in September to recce part of the Lakeland 50 route with Nici, when she asked if I'd like to go back in November I said "Ah Jesus, really? Must I?" HAHA fuck no, I counted the weeks and then the days and then the hours!</div>
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We stayed at the Ambleside YHA this time. A train up to Oxenholme, train to Windermere, then a taxi to the hostel. First impressions - arriving there on a Friday evening - was that it wasn't as friendly or runner/hiker orientated as the Coppermines one, the bar seemed to attract a lot of people just out for a drink rather than there for outdoorsy type stuff, but it was warm, clean, just a mile and a bit from the town and so it worked well. More runners and hikers arrived on the Saturday so it felt more like our kind of place.</div>
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After checking in to our palatial bunkroom we ran into Ambleside to stock up on some food for the weekend. Had dinner in the bar, got our stuff ready for the morning, set the alarm for 04.45 and went to bed.</div>
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On the Saturday we were doing another recce of the Ambleside to Coniston legs of the LL50. Here's my description of that:-</div>
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<b>Ambleside to Chapel Stile (CP12-13)</b></div>
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We had about a 1.5mile run to the start of the actual route going down into Rothay Park. That was far more pleasant done via headtorch than last time in daylight with lots of people around. After a slog up a bridleway and a few gates with various differing methods of opening same (which is great stuff when tired and brainfogged during a race) we were out onto the fell. Awesome downhill running along here, we woke every bog creature around with our yells of joy. Sunrise didn't really happen as such, it was very clouded over so eventually we just got to a point where the headtorches weren't needed anymore and put back in our vests.</div>
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Onward we went, past the Skelwith Bridge Hotel, Chesters, Elterwater and onto the path opposite the cave entrance. We had planned to restock on water at Wainwright's Inn as we'd run out before Tilberthwaite the last time and had a bit of an ordeal getting some from a mardy farmer woman. But we got to this point far faster than on the last recce and so the pub wasn't open. Their 'outside tap' for dogs was cleverly piped down into a bowl thing and neither of us much felt like filling up from that so we carried on. We were both carrying an extra 500ml anyway and it was far colder and wetter so we weren't too concerned. The Baysbrown campsite hadn't even a tent in it letalone a tap so meh to that too.</div>
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<i>"Straight on footpath thru houses (QUIET PLEASE) and down walled path, through gate".</i></div>
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^^ a direction that will never be forgotten thanks to some twonks in September :p</div>
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Along here we once again resisted the lure of the Most Dangerous Swing in Britain. Here the legend of the tale of She Died On The Fells was born. Nici fell off the swing and had her eyeball pecked out by a crow. Just one of several near fatal mishaps on our journey.<br />
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We took note of where CP13 would be located in a field on the right at Great Langdale Beck, and then I saw some of my favourite creatures....</div>
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Loads of them actually. I'd been quite disappointed not to see any from the train the day before, it doesn't feel properly like Cumbria till I've seen a Herdie, so I did literally jump for joy on entering this part of the course. They have such friendly faces and they stop what they're doing to look at you - it feels rude not to greet them. After encountering about 7 or 8 of them and waving at each I said to Nici "ooh I feel like the queen!". Nice work if you can get it eh.</div>
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<b>Chapel Stile to Tilberthwaite </b><br />
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<i>"Continue on track and bear L to Oak Howe Farm (QUIET PLEASE). Turn R on public </i><i>footpath after main barn (SP New Dungeon Gill). Continue on clear track for 1.2km to gate </i><i>in wall........"</i></div>
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Hah!! Doesn't mention the feckin rabid bullocks we encountered in September though does it. I was very relieved to see an empty field this time, though we did still run faster through that part.</div>
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On through boggy fields, over streams (lots of extra water up there this weekend) and over two mothers of stiles (I'd call them ladders myself). And at that stage of a 50 mile race they're fair sadistic.</div>
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Italian Hill was next. This was a killer in the heat before, and pretty tough going this time too, but we got up faster and knowing just how long it was made it a bit easier. Over a cattle grid at the summit of Side Pike Pass and then some smashing downhill trail to Blea Tarn. The terrain around here is lovely - downhill stony/rocky trail, narrow paths alongside a drop down to a stream, nice ankle turning territory, loads of bracken, slopes on the right, mini waterfalls, truly a great place for running.</div>
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<i>"Very boggy ground of Bleamoss"</i> - the poles were taken out for the first time here, and we were quite glad to have them, the ground was saturated and the bog was hungry for shoes. *She Died On The Fells. We got through ok though, did the check on the wooden gate, then had some downhill road running for a bit. This bloody hurt but my new 212s did better than my other shoes would've done.</div>
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Soon we were on the track to the white NT cottage. This place is a crock of shit. There's no water tap so why exactly is it even worth a mention? Somebody died around here, I won't post the pic, it's too emotional :p but that NT b.s. needs to be removed. Her little legs carried her far but she still DOTF :p</div>
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Uphill a bit on track, then some stony slippy downhill to Mardy Farmer Woman's place. We cocked a snoop at Her Mardiness and ran on.</div>
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Then followed a bit of country lane running to Tilberthwaite car park where CP14 will be located. The steps up out of this didn't seem half as long or as bad as we'd remembered but that made no odds to me, I knew what was coming.</div>
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<b>Tilberthwaite to Coniston</b></div>
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<i>"At triple fork, 300m from CP, take middle track uphill (SSW). DO NOT enter quarry on </i><i>LH track, DO NOT take lower path down to Crook Beck. Continue up for 200m (CARE - </i><i>steep unfenced quarry side to L of track) to cross small waterfall/stream bed. Continue 500m, up rocky section"</i> - aka the Wall of Death</div>
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We had taken lots of photos here before, looking around the quarries etc, and had decided to plough on through this time. Still all very scenic and such but as it was the lead up to the WoD my guts were already trembling. The small waterfall was raging after all the rainfall lately, I was so shitted up nervous that I put my foot straight into it rather than stretch enough to reach a dry rock. Made no odds, my feet were soggy by then anyway, but it didn't help the nerves. I must admit the WoD wasn't quite as horrendous second time around as I knew IT WOULD END and I wouldn't die. Unless I slipped off the right edge into the ravine. But I got up it anyway and was able to speak afterwards, unlike the last time and Nici gave me lots of praise even though we'd misconstrued which bit exactly was the WoD :-)</div>
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Having lived through the hell of WoD and the 2 inch wide path after that, still running along beside the ravine, we started to have fun again. Clag was descending but it felt great.</div>
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The section up here (between Low Weather Crag and Yewdale Fells) is one of my favourites. No sign of humans, animals, buildings, electricity lines, nothing - just pure open fell. Perfection. The stream by the tree was too deep and fast to cross so we cut across through some boggy reedy stuff, found a narrower bit and got across that way. </div>
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We stopped briefly at Scab Rock for some food (did very well on this recce, hourly refuelling and it made a hell of a difference to the last time) and to see if my sacrifice was still there. Nothing but some crow skeletons. Silly birds. *SDOTF</div>
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<i>"with valley of Crook Beck again on R. Past small tarn on R to summit. </i><i>Over summit and continue steeply down L (SSE) on rough path to reach main track"</i></div>
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It's funny how often it is true that words can paint a picture and yet with the Lake District they just can't paint enough. You have to be there. The atmosphere, the feeling of clean air, the rain, the space, the joy, the pain, the tiredness, the joy. The joy.</div>
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Eurgh. I'm getting silly. Carry on.</div>
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Ok, So we carry on over the summit and then see one of my favourite places ever, Coniston Coppermines Valley. I won't go off into one about the beauty of this place again. Just visit it. Down down down a steep rocky track, taking in the sights and enjoying being back there again. Couldn't see Old Man Coniston, he was all clagged up :-) </div>
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Down a steep concrete track/road, OUCH, into Coniston village and the end. I messed up on bus times and so we found ourselves with an hour or more to spare. Had to go to the pub, godammit :-) Then we caught a bus back to Ambleside, chilled a bit and got ready for the next day's adventure.</div>
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Awesome second recce. Felt faster and stronger, we fuelled better and had more fun. Happy with that one.</div>
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(I've saved the swearing for Return to the Lake District (aka SDOTF) Part 2) </div>
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<br />Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-31885681441485852882014-08-17T13:46:00.000-07:002014-08-17T14:21:41.365-07:00Finding 'Happy' on the Chilterns <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z1dZw8Mepbg/U_EC2J7fzeI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/kWR07LOZlw8/s1600/P1000435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z1dZw8Mepbg/U_EC2J7fzeI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/kWR07LOZlw8/s1600/P1000435.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a>Having run from Overton Hill to Goring at Easter I'd always intended to go back and finish off The Ridgeway at some point, though in my mind it had now moved to a weekend next year, when I'm fitter. On Wednesday this week I thought "bugger it, I need a break from the madness, I'm doing it" so I booked a room in Wendover for Saturday night and train tickets. Didn't really have time for prep, just a quick look at distances and a rough plan. </div>
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Come Saturday morning my alarm clock got laughed at when it started it's racket at 6am. It got laughed at for a few hours, with the result that I set off to Goring much later than planned. By the time I got off the train in G&S I realised that I might have to play it by ear with regards to where I stopped running for the night. </div>
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Running along beside the river was pleasant enough - rivers and flat don't really rock my boat though. Then I came to a field full of cows. Right across where I had to run. Jesus wept. A man had already gone through with his dog so I was thinking 'shit they're going to be alert now'. But there was nowhere else to go, the river was on my left and more fields of cows to the right. So I walked through them, heart in my mouth. Two of the bastards were over on the left right beside the river so I couldn't keep on that edge, I had to go between them. I've never been so happy to reach a gate. Where I stopped to take a photo and start breathing again. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mruh9Kp4g4k/U_EA-aoxrmI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Xu6Wc_TQtGE/s1600/DSC_0224%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mruh9Kp4g4k/U_EA-aoxrmI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Xu6Wc_TQtGE/s1600/DSC_0224%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="225" /></a>I'd had a good look at the map on the way up (and actually measured distances!) so I knew when I should be hitting South Stoke, North Stoke, turning east etc.</div>
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Grim's Ditch was a bit disappointing to start with, the name conjures up images that reality just didn't deliver. Again, pleasant but not earthshattering. </div>
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After a while it turned into the kind of terrain I was hoping for ^^^<br />
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It was surprisingly humid so I was glad to fill up my bottles at Grimsdyke Cottage, a litre gone in just 8 or so miles. I'd met a couple of dog walkers along the way but other than that it was quite deserted. </div>
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Nuffield Golf Course was a mare!!! I ran in, saw a sign for the Ridgeway pointing left across what looked like a practice green, so off I went. Got to the edge of that and really could not see a way through the brambles etc. Shit. So I went back to the club house. The map seemed to indicate to take a tight left and I'd seen a couple of hikers stopping there, consulting their map and going down the path, so I went that way.<br />
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Came out on a road. Ok, now cross and look for the Ridgeway sign. Hmmm. The two hikers were up the road a bit so I ran up to them and asked if they were going the same way. They were. A lovely young Dutch couple who were hiking to Watlington. The guy asked if I had ALL my stuff for 2 days in the S-lab??!! He had to take it to feel the weight lol. We had a nice chat while wandering around the poxy golf course trying to find the right path. Anyway, the least said about Nuffield the better. Never trust a golfer who gives you directions, suffice it to say that much. We eventually found the way and I left them to it as I needed to get a move on.<br />
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A few nice ups and downs through crop fields ensued. A little bit of road, some mini hills and onto Swan's Way. Pfft. Running on a trail between two ditches of bushes/trees that were so thick you couldn't see any scenery. It was pretty uninspiring. And straggly. Not pretty at all. I met a lady walker and I thought well I'm not going to get to Wendover before darkness falls and I sure as f*** don't want to be running through this on my own in the dark (it didn't feel very friendly) so I'll find out from her where's the best place to stop. <br />
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Jaysus. "I walked from Ivinghoe Beacon to Watlington once. It was soul destroying". After a minute I was trying to end the conversation and politely leave! I asked her about Chinnor, would I be able to get a cab to Wendover from there? "The path is awful, it's horrible, there's nothing there". Omg. Managed to get away and upped the speed! I was very low on water by now so I decided to drop down into Watlington and get to the hotel for an early dinner and night. On the way I asked a man if I'd be able to get a cab in Watlington. "Ohhhh, no, there's nothing there. You might get a bus. But it's a Saturday. So probably not". He had hairs growing from the top of his nose. He wasn't old enough to have an excuse for that! I was expecting his next line to be "we only have local shops for local people". Fuck me they're a miserable bunch around there! <br />
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So I went back up onto the Ridgeway and decided to head for Chinnor come what may. </div>
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<span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">Looking at the map I noticed that Lewknor had a PUB symbol, woohey, civilisation. Decision made, drop down into Lewknor and take it from there. The landlady called a cab for me and I had a pint of cider while I waited. 20.5 miles run, longest run since June, can't complain about that! <br /><br />Got to Wendover, had a pint, had a shower, had some dinner, another pint and up to bed. I was in two minds about what to do next - get a cab back to Lewknor in the morning and carry on from there, or start on Sunday from Wendover. Working out the price per mile that going back to Lewknor would cost me made the decision fairly easy! It had been a nice day of running and fresh air but missing out on running through a quarry and Chequers (where I'd probably get arrested for peeing in his garden) wasn't going to upset me much in the long run.<br /><br />Had a nice sleep and then woke up around 8 on Sunday morning. A full cooked vegetarian minus the sausage, boom, set me up nicely for the day. The receptionist told me a shortcut to get onto the Ridgeway rather than strictly following the map. Jaysus. Put me in the middle of houses and alleyways and shite like that and I'm buggered, I had the compass out twice just to get out of town! But I was going the right way after all and soon was out in the countryside again. </span></div>
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I met a lovely blonde lady runner along here, in her 60s, fab pink top, cheery hellos - how else would you want to start a run on a Sunday morning :-) </div>
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Today (Sunday) was definitely my favourite of the two. Where Saturday disappointed Sunday more than made up for it. The woods on Cock's Hill were gorgeous. And Uphill was like running through light green gossamer threads. Beautiful. Calming. Relaxing. </div>
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Met a few mountain bikers speeding down this bit, it did look like good fun. I was going uphill though. It felt like being in the Lord of the Rings. Loved this part. I think the magic started to happen from here. </div>
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Had to do a bit of road running through Hastoe but it was raining so that made it ok :-) And Tring Park, what a lovely place. Met lots of walkers here, and all friendly. </div>
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A bit more running down the sides of fields now on the way to Tring station, nothing special but it was downhill so I got through quickly. </div>
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Ran over this bridge then realised what it was so went back to take a photo. It's the only way I'll be running anywhere near it! </div>
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Past Tring station and up onto one of the best sections of the entire run. More lovely uphill forests and a nature reserve. I'd seen lots of butterflies and a few rabbits but very little other wildlife until here. </div>
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Then 3 deer ran across my path, so quickly and ethereally I gasped aloud. God it was beautiful up there. Running through those woods I really started to feel the history of the Ridgeway again. I'd felt it before in Uffington, awe inspiring stuff, and now I felt how the Roman Centurions might have felt all those centuries ago marching from place to place. Didn't think it could get much better than this. </div>
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Until I came out onto Pitstone Hill. You know when somewhere just takes your breath away? This was that place. Looking at my photos now they just don't, they can't, convey what it was like, you have to be there. It was so amazing. </div>
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I was blown away by now, I'd had my camera in my hand for the last few miles as there was no point putting it back in my pack only to have to stop and take it out again. And then into the final couple of miles, I really didn't want it to end, but at least I was going to be running back this way to get to Tring station and there were some fab downhills through the woods to look forward to. </div>
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Going towards Incombe Hole there were more feckin cows in a field to pass, but these guys were all lying down and looked pretty chilled. I let a walker run the gauntlet first!<br />
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Up Steps Hill, through some narrow trails surrounded by gorse and wildflowers and scrub. Perfect.<br />
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And finally, destination reached. I won't lie, it was emotional. I don't even care that I can't say I've run every inch of the Ridgeway, I've run 88 miles on or around it, and definitely got to see the best parts. Yesterday was nice, not a stretch I'd bother doing again in itself, but it got me to today and <b>today has been fantastic</b>. And when I'm feeling stressed or can't get out for a decent run I'll just look back on this and feel it all again<br />
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Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-81360436928773033512014-05-12T17:49:00.004-07:002014-05-12T17:52:42.382-07:00Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen....<div style="text-align: justify;">
A very different race this, second time around....</div>
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May 11th 2013, first ultra, first trail race, first big race without any friends or family around. Nervously arriving at Race HQ at 7am and entering a hall full of hardened experienced ultra runners talking about the Fellsman and Hardmoors and all of these other races that I'd only read about in magazines and to me at the time seemed way beyond anything I'd ever do. </div>
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May 11th 2014, a few races later, rocked up, looked around, loads of friendly faces, runners. Simple as that. Sat down, looked through the maps etc again and chatted to the runners around me. Turned out the guy sitting beside me had read my race report from last year. So, bearing that in mind, I'll try to watch my language on this one :-) </div>
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We didn't have race bibs this year, which was a pity as I like to keep them, instead we got a nifty wrist tag thing which was swiped at each CP. I wore mine till this evening (2 days later) as I didn't want to cut through it, but I eventually managed to stretch the ribbon a bit and get it over my hand. I'll keep it in lieu of a bib. And maybe wear it at weekends lol. </div>
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Quick race briefing and off we went at 8am into the rain. The first couple of miles were an out and back narrow sandy trail. Same as last year I went out a bit too quick, but it felt ok so I went with it.</div>
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A few miles of trails and running through woods and fields, the rain had stopped and it was feeling quite warm so I took off my smock. Had a real high at around the 10k mark, one of those raise your arms in the air and whoop moments. CP1 was at 8.2 miles, I got here half an hour ahead of the time I'd estimated beforehand, but felt good so wasn't too worried. I stopped and got busy sending a text, one of the volunteers asked "are you sending an email?!". "Nah, gotta write my blog" says I. I think he believed me :-) Filled the water bottles up, bemoaned a chipped nail and off I went again. </div>
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Next CP was 10 miles away. I'd been very disappointed to hear from my wingman Ian a few days before that he was injured and would have to pull out of the race. I realised that today was going to be a tough one mentally if I'd to run alone for the whole 40 miles but with such a small field it was more than likely and so I'd just have to MTFU and get on with it. </div>
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Made my way to the infamous turn off in the vicinity of the Major Oak, where last year I'd diverted to take a photo and disoriented myself completely. This year I just said "yeah Tree I've been there, got the photo, laters" and successfully found the right path. </div>
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I knew that it was a pretty straightforward run for a few miles now to the next marker so my plan was to just zone out here and relax and run for a while without having to check anything. Grand, till a spider dropped on me from the sky and shocked my bladder into overdrive. Bastard. Road on the other side of the hedge and a wire fence and trees to the other side. Fuck it, I needed to go. So I went. Luckily no-one came along. I met a dog walker shortly afterwards. He'll never know what he missed! </div>
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Another high running through some truly lovely woods, happily going along thinking ooh how lucky am I to be here doing this.....</div>
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... Mile 15 suddenly felt sick as an effing pig. It was a bit humid but I hadn't a headache, it didn't feel like the overheating type sickness I'd had at SDW. Just a "I'm going to puke now" feeling. That was minging, so I decided to walk for a bit till it passed. Took out my bag of crisps but they didn't help. Mile 16 "Wish you were here" started on the iPod and I burst into tears. Christ Almighty. The sickness eased off a bit so I started running again. Took a wrong turn, realised fairly quickly, luckily, and turned back. </div>
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Arrived at CP2, which was CP1 approached from a different direction. I'd to whack more tape on the knee at this point as it was being a gimp so I asked the lady to fill my bottles while I did that. Ate some banana and off I went, 6 miles to the next CP and the luxury of a real indoors toilet woohoo. I think it was along here there was quite a stretch of country road, which fucked me off as I really didn't feel like bloody road running. A man strimming a hedge or doing something grassy at the other side of the road said hello and then asked me about the race, I was quite happy to stop for a bit and take a break from running on this poxy road. His cousins are Irish. I don't remember how that came up.</div>
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So a bit more road type crap and then back on trails and I was at the halfway point :-) and then you'd to cross a lane and go onto a track to the side of a cottage. Got there and there were a few cottages going up the side of a hill. Buggered if I could remember which cottage to go to the side of so I decided I better run up the hill and check them all. Having done that the first one seemed the most likely culprit and, as I was deciding to go that way, another runner came along and confirmed that this was the one. </div>
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Ah, the lovely Rachel, within a few sentences she'd cursed several times and I knew we were going to get along. She appeared at just the right time too as I was fucked off with how much the knee was already aching so the distraction of having another human being around was marvellous. </div>
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So we ran and chatted and got to CP3. Rachel's parents and husband were driving around in support, we used the luxury loos at Cresswell Crags then had a quick catch up. Rachel's Mum gave me a delicious cakepop, as I was eating it a quarter fell off onto the ground, "5 second rule!!!" shouted Rachel so I grabbed it up again. Would've been a sin to waste it. Changed my socks here, they were pretty damp and muddy, and off we went. </div>
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6 or so miles later Rachel announced she'd now done her furthest distance ever, which quite surprised me as she seemed very calm and experienced at this lark. Underfoot was muddy, boggy and wet, in varying degrees. I managed to sink into a few boggy bits so the change of socks was redundant quite quickly. Ah well. Got to the start of Limetree Avenue, which I had not been looking forward to at all, and this year it was 2 miles instead of 1, so double the fucking grim. </div>
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And Ian yes it wasn't just us last year, it was neverending and shite this year too! Got off it eventually thank God. I'd another hummus wrap and very shortly afterwards felt sick again. I do have to wonder if it was the hummus. Never been a problem before but who knows. </div>
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At this point I was running like an automaton, just get me to the fucking CP and get me some Cola, some banana, anything to make this feeling go away. Rachel's Mum came along the trail a bit to meet us, couldn't even talk to the poor woman, good thing Rachel was still upbeat and smiley. Got swiped at the CP then went off into a corner to puke. Didn't eat anything there. Got the water bottles filled up, we crossed the road and set off again. </div>
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We were both tiring now, "fuck the trees, fuck the mud, fuck the woods and fuck Robin Hood" was the general feeling and we did shout some of that aloud, which made us laugh. Thank God I had company during those last 10 miles especially, because all I really wanted to do was vomit and have a nap, whereas the sight of Rachel soldiering on made me soldier on. Got sick again in a field, sorry Rachel for subjecting you to that, and then took a bastard wrong turn or missed a turn or did something wrong anyway along here again. We got ourselves back on track after a bit of faffing through fields and eventually met up with Rachel's family at the point they'd arranged to see her, so that was pretty nice. Rachel the little angel had Kendal mint cake in her pack, which was an absolute godsend as I'd been wishing for a mint or anything to clean my mouth out with, I couldn't have been happier if she'd pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste on the trail! </div>
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Another 2 or was it 3 miles, and we were in the village and on the home stretch. Ah the joy of taking that final left turn and seeing the finish! Straight into the Ladies for another vom, ridiculous behaviour. Then I collected my finisher's mug and sat down to have pie and peas with the gang. </div>
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Got a lift back to the Travelodge with Rachel's parents and then proceeded to start refuelling till I had the energy to shower :-) I was glad to get to the end, I won't deny, it was tougher than I had expected it to be, but still a great day overall. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still there after 5 weeks so I guess I better trim it :p </td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">And there you have it. Had a good night's sleep and came back to London this afternoon. Am pretty tired and the feet are swelling now, they seem to be ok for 24 hours and then start ballooning. Gobshites. But hey ho. I'll wear trousers and wide shoes to work tomorrow! </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">This race has shown me I definitely need to make more of an effort get the knee fixed, even if it means rethinking my summer schedule. It's been dragging on now since the end of November, which is just plain stupid. Physio told me on Friday I'm delaying recovery by constantly loading and fatiguing it but she's not about to tell me to stop running completely as I'd lose my marbles, so I just have to keep on with the rehab stuff. Nah, I can't keep on with the 'just get to the start line in one piece and then get through the race with brute determination' mentality I've adopted, I'm not doing myself any favours. I need to train a lot more and a lot harder and I know what I need to do to get there. Eurgh. </span></div>
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Fuck, enough whinging, end on a high note quick lol.... </div>
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I'd a great time overall, glad I went back to do this race on my ultra birthday, it's brought the first year round in a nice circle. I had a lot of laughs and some very good high points, great company and even more lessons learned. Roll on the next one! </div>
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Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-52603377647090457082014-04-20T17:39:00.001-07:002014-04-20T17:39:45.806-07:00A Ridgeaway a Ridgeaway<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, this was going to be written on Bank Holiday Monday, full of running endorphins and the joys of Spring and love for all mankind and relatively swear free. It's Easter Sunday (well it was when I started writing), things didn't go to plan, so bollocks to that :-) </div>
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A few weeks ago I realised I'd be at a loose end at Easter, so rather than waste the four days of freedom by sleeping and drinking and being bored in London I thought I'd see if I could go off somewhere and run for a few days. The National Trails website was my first port of call, and The Ridgeway looked good. A quick conversation with Mark Hines, an email from Alastair Humphreys entitled "<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Commit to Something. Put Your Balls on the Line. Then Figure it Out", which I took</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">as a sign, some</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> l</span>ogistics (leg planning, booking tickets and B&Bs), getting the relevant Harveys map and I had a plan - me, 87 miles, Friday-Sunday (or Monday depending on events), job's a good un. </div>
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<i>It all happened and it's all true, just not necessarily in strict chronological order .....</i></div>
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<b>Day 1 - Avebury to Woolstone 27.5 miles</b> </div>
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Friday morning I took a train to Swindon, hung around for a bit in the lovely smells-of-wee bus station, got a bus to Avebury and was so busy taking a photo of my S-lab (yep) that I almost missed my stop. Impressed though that I got everything I needed for 3-4 days into it (spare tee, knickers, socks, sports bra, headtorch, Minimus, waterproof trousers for the forecasted miserable rain on Sunday, sunblock for the forecasted sunshine before said miserable, first aid odds n'ends, and various other things), I hereby rename her The Tardis. </div>
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Arrived in Avebury and spent ages there walking around the circle, taking photos and generally faffing :-) Eventually set off on the Herepath, diverted after Manor Farm onto a byway and thus over to the actual start of The Ridgeway at Overton Hill. I started at Avebury because it was easier to get to via public transport, the alternative was to come via Marlborough and then run along a busy road. </div>
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Once I got down to the proper start I got a nice walker to take this photo, with the sole intention of having a matching one at Ivinghoe Beacon on Sunday/Monday.<br />
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The scenery around here really is beautiful. I was stopping to take so many photos it just got silly. But hey, my weekend, my mini break, my run/training/time on feet, I didn't beat myself up too much! All I had to do today was get to Woolstone, 27 or so miles, how bloody luxurious and freeing is that to say! </div>
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I thought the Harveys SDW map was a bit meh, but their Ridgeway one is brilliant. Maybe it's because there are more 'memorable' features, it was so easy to break down the run into smaller sections according to which feature was coming up. I'm also so glad I started at this western end as I love prehistoric things and was totally spoiled on this trip. I need to go back soon, I can feel it as I type. But anyway...</div>
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A white horse is carved somewhere into the hillside along Hackpen Hill, it wasn't visible from where I was running however and as I'll do the White Horse trail at another point I decided to save it for then.</div>
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Barbury Castle, impressive. More tourists here, carparks nearby. I was aiming for the water tap mentioned on the Harveys map, but when I got to said bungalow it was being demolished/rebuilt? It was a building site anyhow so no go. Noticed this at a couple of points, another being at Ilsley Barn Farm, the stand was there but the tap had been removed. Message - don't rely solely on the mapped water sources. The toilets were very welcome though. There was an icecream van in the carpark so I decided to buy water from there and to stop for lunch. Once I stopped moving it was bloody cold in that wind, the Sonic went on, as did the Salomon mitts. Feckin great things, they really proved their worth this weekend, a good buy. Lunch was a Rice Krispie bar and a strawberry ice lolly. Yep, wtf. Holiday brain. </div>
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Then went on to Smeathe's Ridge. Lots of horse gallops around here so good to see a change from sheep and cows. </div>
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Running along the lane below was so pretty, the blossoms were blowing off the trees and with the chalk surface it looked like snow. Only place I appreciated the surface though, the stones in other places were total fuckers. <br />
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Took a break and sat for a while when I came across this memorial bench. We have these plaques on the Heath but coming across one in the middle of nowhere really hit me. These things floor me every time.<br />
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Passed Ogbourne St George, passed Southend, missed the tap on the cottage wall - it wasn't immediately obvious and I didn't feel comfortable gawping at someone's house. I had enough water still from the ice cream van anyhow. Saw these fuckers though, they all turned around and stared at me as I ran past. So I took their photo and thought "ha, you'll be on a plate soon, stare then :p " </div>
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Along from here the track split in 3, there was a sign for cycle paths but none for the Ridgeway. I'd read in a guide about an old railway abutment or something but it took a couple of goes to realise that 2 brick walls qualified as such. Luckily I'd already gotten the compass out to decide on my direction. Thanks to MH for the initial lessons, and then Stu for the navigation course (Contours and Cairns), best thing I've paid out for this year for sure! There were a few times on this run where I'd have been fairly fucked without knowing how to use the map and compass. Highly recommend learning how to use them, the freedom it gives you is amazing. </div>
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Another pig farm!! Have never seen one in my life and now I've seen two. This one made me laugh aloud. I was running along a narrow path between trees, some guide book had said there'd be a pig farm somewhere but that it tended to migrate so it could be anywhere along a certain stretch. First I knew of it was the sound of barking/snorting. I looked through the trees and saw 2 fields full of pigs and piglets running around. No smell though thank God. I'm sure two of them were shagging, but I think my laughter put them off. </div>
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By the time I was approaching Waylands Smithy I was getting a bit tired and hungry. There isn't anywhere up here to get food, unless you want to divert down a way off the path and then climb back up, so I was just eating those Rice Krispie things. Good for a few hours but not really enough for a longer run. But that's ok, this whole thing was an experiment. Glad I did go to look at it though, it's lovely. Also glad it wasn't dark, it would've been properly spooky. </div>
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Then it was just a couple of miles till I reached the back end of Uffington/Dragon Hill. Looking at this I realised that the route I'd planned to take involved climbing up over the hill and then down and over to my B&B in Woolstone. Bollocks to that. A quick check of the map and I realised I could hang north and get there with less hilly stuff. All this was done with the next day's task of 36 miles in mind. On the way I saw the White Horse of Uffington and realised that to be seen properly it does need to be seen from the air. Good decision not to bother climbing up and over it then! So, a lovely downhill and in to Woolstone, job done. Arrived at the White Horse Inn shortly thereafter. Highly recommend it. Showered, washed my clothes in the basin, stuck them on a rad, had a few pints and a tasty dinner then off to bed. </div>
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<b>Day 2 - Woolstone to Watlington 36 miles*</b></div>
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<i>*the intended itinerary </i></div>
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In the morning the friendly Irish landlord commented on my breakfast choice "I'd say you're fairly unique then, a vegetarian Irishwoman that likes running more than drinking". If he could see me now! Filled my face with a full English cooked vegetarian (breakfast) and set off again. </div>
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It was around 9.30am but there wasn't a soul around. Saying hello to a runner and then a baby rabbit was it, and that was just grand. Went along the road for a bit then onto a footpath to make my way up onto the Ridgeway. Took a bearing at a fence as the path wasn't marked and I couldn't see the way clearly and just felt like getting the compass out ;-) And so then I was on Dragon Hill. This stands as one of my favourite parts of the whole thing. The atmosphere was amazing. And the scenery breathtaking. The photos just can't do it justice. </div>
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As I was climbing up that hill in the photo above I realised there was a bird of prey above me. I squealed, first bird of prey I've ever seen in the wild, how bloody awesome is that!!! Then I realised he was hovering above me, and following me, and I thought oh f*cking hell is my cap bothering him? so I RAN. That was funny. </div>
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Tried to get some shots of the birds but it wasn't easy, I really wanted to get one massive guy who kept flying on from fencepost to fencepost as I got nearer, but in the end I gave up and just watched him instead. </div>
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Did some FB posts, and then back onto the Ridgeway. In the next half hour I saw one runner, one dog walker and one horse rider. The horse rider asked where I was going and said "Wow, good luck". At the time I smiled, safe in my confidence that I'd get there. </div>
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Miles 1-6ish lovely scenery, happy, a bit more mud and grass today rather than hard stony stuff, which was a relief, my feet were burning like bastards from the day before and a big sole blister from 2 weeks previous had resurfaced. </div>
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Thanks to the Harvey map there were some things to watch out for along here. CPs break down distances in a race and features do the same in real life. And I got in great practice reading contours and doing all of that other nav stuff I was taught. Nothing like getting out there and doing it. </div>
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Nice to see things like this along the way, I like to think of people thinking of strangers on their journey. No idea who Peter Wren was but I flattened down the nettles and thanked him for the water.</div>
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A bit later on I'm running along this track when suddenly my left foot felt like it was being crushed in a vice. WTF. First reaction was to GASP, curse, gasp, curse, and then loosen my shoelaces. You never know, sometimes it's the simplest things. Even though my shoes were already 1.5 sizes bigger - ultra 'swollen feet' size. Made a difference for about 10 seconds then the pain was the same again. Shit, that didn't work. Didn't much help that the track now turned into one of those poxy farm concrete things so I was thinking "hmm, maybe I'm just in a bad mood and blowing this out of proportion". Eventually found a spot in the ditch that wasn't full of nettles and went for a wee. The thought of some poor farmer seeing my bare arse shining out at him cheered me up for a bit. </div>
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It didn't help that Didcot power station (as I've since learned) was sitting to my left hand side and just would not fuck off. For miles and miles and miles. </div>
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This monument was funny. A couple of teenaged mountain bikers were sitting on the steps. I walked around reading the script on the monument and then as I was walking down the steps saying "Ow" one of them had arisen and was also walking down the steps saying "Ow". </div>
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No photos for this next part, it really was a trudge of misery and I couldn't be arsed to look around. By mile 15-16 I'd texted two of my mates to say look I've 20 miles to go to get to the end of this stage and I can barely walk, I'm thinking of dropping now. I wasn't looking for reassurance or a boost, just some kind of human contact. They both recommended getting to civilisation, having a sit down and some food and having a look at the foot. I'd already looked at it though, there was no outward sign of anything wrong, just this feeling of being crushed. All I can think is that by avoiding landing on the heel since the day before I'd put too much impact on the forefoot. </div>
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Goring was the nearest town, 6 miles away. I thought "ok, I can manage that, an hour, I can cope". Didn't think about the fact I was moving like a frickin snail though did I. After AGES I saw marshalls for a race alongside a sign saying it was 4 miles to Goring. What the fucking fuck??? I'd just walked at least 4 miles surely :p Looked at the Garmin. 20 min/mile. Jesus. I was never going to get there. </div>
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I was climbing up a chalk trail at this point. With runners coming down towards me. This was a lovely lift, everyone smiled and said hey, just the exact time that I needed to see friendly faces. Went on and on a bit more, eventually got to a sign saying Overton Hill was 44 miles or whatever that way, I thought yeah I know, I came from there, and a sign saying Ivinghoe Beacon that way blah blah miles and I thought fuck off don't rub it in that I can't finish what I set out to do :p I tried running a few times but after a couple of feet it was hopeless. </div>
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Got to a tarmac road, God forgive me but it was bloody lovely to walk on something soft and smooth. More runners here. One guy stopped to chat, I asked what race they were doing and found out it was the Compton 40 and he was on mile 32. We spoke a bit about Centurion, he's doing the Winter 100, I expressed admiration for that, he said well done for the half Ridgeway and bad luck for the foot, and told me how to get to the train station, and we parted ways.</div>
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That last 2 miles into Goring was fucking slow and painful and endless. Eventually got there, waited for a train for 15 minutes or so, changed at Reading, changed at Paddington, got 3 Tubes, bought some beer and got home. </div>
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Very disappointed to have had to stop halfway, I had every confidence I'd do it but the foot fucked it up. If my right leg was a man I'd marry it. Works hard, does what I ask of it, never lets me down, will go on forever etc etc, whereas the left is a complete and utter attention seeking twonk. Hmmm, I'm seeing parallels. Nevermind. When I can walk on it properly I guess I need to get down the gym and do some proper fucking rehab. Hopefully I can run within the next week or I will be demonic. </div>
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But, as an ending point, go and run on the Ridgeway, it is AWESOME!!! I'll be back to finish the other half, do the Race to the Stones but probably on my own time as the entry fee is ridiculous imo, do the whole thing again, and maybe in a couple/three years do the Challenge. </div>
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Great weekend, hope the injury fucks off sharpish, next ultra is in 3 weeks so I had to be sensible and think of that rather than be a martyr for the cause and impress nobody by limping another 20 miles lol. Get out there and explore, it's the way forward :-) </div>
<br />Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-8856634270520456462014-04-10T14:28:00.005-07:002014-04-10T14:28:45.181-07:00<span style="font-family: inherit;">Strange old week so far. Black dog sitting by my side and a pair of horrendous looking legs the same width from toes to mid calves. John Merrick would've said "get yer coat love you've pulled". Thankfully today the swelling is going down and the cloud is lifting, so what the feck was I up to to get into this state. Well, on Saturday I completed the South Downs Way 50 and here's what happened (not that any of it will be factually accurate mind, but it's how I remember it). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Met up with Ian in Victoria the day before and ended up having to rush for our train to Eastbourne after having a pre race hydration pint. Once there we made our way to the hotel where I stayed in a compact and bijou single room with super shaggy fraggle floor to ceiling curtains. Rock'n'roll lads, rock'n'roll. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpacked and went out in search of food (Pizza Express) and then a pub to watch the Leicester match. And Holy God what a pub. The language from the regulars at the bar was unreal! And for me to say that you know they were bad. They were effing and blinding and ***ting and b@starding to beat the band and would then end the sentence with something completely harmless and random so you didn't know if they were about to knife each other or were just having a friendly chat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some aul wan went into the Ladies toilet which was situated just behind me. 10 minutes later she hadn't come out, I really needed to go but was worried about finding her unconscious or worse. Eventually I had to just bite the bullet. Went in, she wasn't feckin there! I looked behind both toilet doors, there were no windows and no other way out. Got out of there quick sharp. Told Ian and of course he dispelled all my fears and worries straightaway. Like f*ck, he wound me up even more then continued watching the game. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A while later yer wan walks past again, from the bar. Not a ghost. Thank Christ. Creepy though. Bit like the woman in the bath in The Shining. I won't be going back to that pub in a hurry! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We were back in the hotel fairly early, around 10 I think. Both decided to pack our kit for the morning and get to sleep. Which was fine until I checked my emails and saw I'd been shortlisted for the Trail Running Team. Haven't a feckin hope of getting onto the final list but it made me hyper all over again all the same. Think I went to sleep around 2am. Up at 5 and out of the hotel at 6.15 to get the train to Brighton and then on to Worthing. Once there we spotted some other runners and shared a taxi to the start. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Great organisation at the HQ, kit check was quick and easy and involved showing jacket, gloves and something else, can't remember what, survival blanket maybe, I was just delighted not to have to unpack everything again. Saw Paul Navesy, Sam Robson, Paul Ali etc, a bit like being on a marathon start and watching the Kenyans nearby. Surreal but good. Looked around lots to try and find some runners I knew, had a great chat with John, couldn't see Little Louna or Justin, but I said hello to Nick in the crowd at the start and then Andy came over to say hello. A few minutes later we were off. I was bursting to go off too fast, if I'd been on my own I definitely would have, but luckily Ian reminded me I'd 50 miles to go and would soon be blowing out my arse unless I paced it right. Jackie said hi as we were jogging along the first bit, it was lovely to meet her at last. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Uphill most of the way for about 6 miles until we finally got onto the SDW around Chanctonbury Ring. Beautiful place, saw loads of deer as well and it felt like the race proper was beginning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">First CP was at 11 or so miles, got the bottles filled up, chatted to one of the volunteers about her nail varnish, Ian filled his face and we were off again. There was a stretch of only about 4 or 5 miles till the next CP but for some reason mile 12 was one of my grimmest of the race. Still can't figure out what was going on there but I felt like shit already with nearly 40 to go. The hard stony surface wasn't great I have to admit. I've spent the winter running in mud and on trail, partly to avoid hammering the knee and partly because I mostly loathe road running, so I was feeling every bastard little stone and my soles were burning. Good excuse to get more trail shoes though, a pair are winging their way to me now and hopefully I'll get them tomorrow to try over the weekend :-) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then we were back up on the Downs and all was good again. I think it was in this section that we ran into a crowd of walkers. Around that Mill Hill mast thing maybe. "What charity are you running for?" one of them squawked. The funny answers only came to us after we'd run past. All unprintable. As was most of our conversation. We degenerated into smut and profanities a lot sooner on this race than on others, must've been the hills. I just hope I don't have to visit a doctor anytime soon #noplasticnometal</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Up around Devil's Dyke I almost ran completely past John and Luke. We'd just had to stop to cross a road, I was throwing evils at a car going too fast, then I saw someone with a camera and I thought oh fuck there's another lovely photo of me looking insane. Realised just in time it was the two lads so got a lovely hug there, it was a great lift to see them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At Saddlescombe we refilled the water bottles, Ian filled his face (how many times will he let me get away with saying that I wonder? lol) and jogged on. I can remember all of the aid stations and the lovely volunteers but not which was which in all cases, it's been a few days now and my brain's melted a bit and blurred it all together. Suffice it to say Centurion have the best aid stations, the best atmosphere, the best organisation and the best volunteers EVER. I was eating hummus wraps, fuelling seemed to be going ok, I know I'm in trouble when I start chewing everything like a camel but so far I was doing ok and eating like a normal human. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">From Saddlescombe to the next CP was 10 miles and here the wheels came off a bit again. I felt like an absolute bag of shit, vomit wasn't far away and my head was pounding. Took me probably a good 3 miles to realise this was due to overheating and not just my mind playing tricks on me. Took off my Sonic smock and felt 100% better within a minute. Just goes to show, don't always assume it's your mind fucking you up, it might be something physical and easily fixable. I think somewhere in this section, or maybe it was the next, Ian also had a rough patch. But we've run a few races together now and know the best thing is just to keep going, mention it if it's really bad and warrants slowing down or doing a run/walk for a bit, and the bad patch will eventually end. The same goes for negativity. Chatting to other runners along the way is grand but if some fucker is being negative then I'm off. If they're bleeding out of their eyes or limping or physically ill then of course I'll help but if it's just someone whinging and trying to drag me down then sorry but no, I'm not catching that disease. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Had quite a nice run along there after I'd cooled down - good fresh clean air, loads of lovely soft cushiony grass, and the knowledge that Shawn Timmons was waiting at Housedean with a pack of salted crisps gave me a boost. That last downhill bit we ran into the CP hammered my quads but I didn't give a shit. My stomach was feeling a bit dodgy, but there'd been nowhere to go to the feckin loo, no shelter at all so the thought of those crisps kept me happy. Came into the CP, saw the lovely Shawn and had a bit of a chat and a swig of hot coffee from his flask, refilled the water etc, took delivery of my precious cargo and off we went. Thanks again Shawn :-) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Housedean to Southease, 26.6 - 33.9 miles, hardest bit of my race without a doubt. There was a fairly long bugger of a hill up from Housedean, still needed the loo but there just wasn't anywhere to go. We got up this hill at a fair old rate all the same. Then we hit the concrete road. The fucking neverending bitch bastard from Hell concrete road. That fucking thing needs blowing up. In next year's race I'm giving it the finger bigtime. Fucker. That was my lowest point of the whole day, it hurt, it looked like shit, it didn't end, it hurt, it was fucking horrid. You couldn't run cos it hurt, you couldn't walk cos it hurt, so you zombie shuffled along cursing the day concrete was invented. It hammered the fuck out of my knee, which had been so well behaved up until then, and with nigh on 20 miles to go you're thinking fuck this for a lark this isn't fun anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then it ended :-) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Southease CP took the longest time to get through, we'd been reasonably quick through the CPs till then, totally my fault but essential. I had to sit down and whack more tape on the knee, check the feet and whack a Compeed on a hotspot, and take some Solpadeine which thank Christ I'd brought along as an emergency measure. Ian filled his face (sorry Ian, lol, you refuelled) while I was doing my first aid bit. Lovely lovely volunteers here as well. Maybe sombreros. Or that might've been another one. The boost you get from these strangers who are standing here for hours, out in all sorts of weather, giving up their free time to fill your cranky water bottles, smile at your battered and weary being, tell you you're looking great when you look like pigsick and give you much needed encouragement really cannot be measured in words. To joke and laugh with people when you're feeling a bit wrecked lifts the spirits so so much. Oh that reminds me, there was a pig farm on top of a hill somewhere. That was minging. It was before this point of the story, but I've just remembered it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And onwards we went. The Solpadeine kicked in pretty quickly, please no comments about taking painkillers while running, it was necessary and I'm a big girl now. The next CP was going to be Alfriston at around 41 miles. I'd a few reasons for looking forward to reaching Alfriston. It'd mark my official longest distance ever run, I'd been there a couple of times already and had had a great time navigating and running on the Downs around there and it always cheers me up to sing Alfriston in my head to the tune of Galveston oh Galveston. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhsRNMjilEM" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhsRNMjilEM</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The part of the Downs we ran before coming to Galveston was great craic. The mist came down and visibility got pretty poor. It was amazing to be up there then, it just wouldn't have been the same experience if the weather had been sunny or calm throughout. I'd kept biting the fecking tops off my Salomon bottles during this race, never did it before and I'm sure I'll never do it again. I blame Ian Lang completely. At one point I bit the top off, it fell out of my mouth and started blowing off down the side of the hill thing. So I'd to run and bend over to get it, so of course the water started pouring out of the open bottle. Jesus I'd say we frightened wildlife and runners for miles around with the laughing. Bloody caps. I enjoyed that part a lot. It pissed it down with rain, I hadn't realised how cold it was until I turned and walked backwards for some reason and realised my right side was numb. But oh it was so much fun. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QwioKAzdDZQ/U0cDHmLZc3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/W1FJylpLlOg/s1600/P1000047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QwioKAzdDZQ/U0cDHmLZc3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/W1FJylpLlOg/s1600/P1000047.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Once we got into Alfriston I knew the route from here to the finish so there was no need to think about where we were going, a nice chance to relax a bit. Great cup of tea in the church hall, more lovely people wishing us well, I changed into my Minimus here and got my warmer hat on. A mad Northern Irishman saw us off with jokes and craic. Thank you whoever you were. Forgot about putting on our headtorches in the warmth though so we stopped by the river in the woody bit where there was a bit of shelter and got that done rather than having to stop on the exposed top later on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dusk was falling as we were on the top bit heading towards Jevington. God even as I'm typing this I'm wishing I was up there again now. This was such a bloody brilliant race!! We got through the woods, the churchyard and into the last CP. A lovely American man gave us hot tea, I had some lovely flapjack thing his kids had made, Ian had some sandwiches and we got going. I took an emergency peanut butter sandwich as I was feeling a bit sick again, I think it was just general tiredness at this stage. Oh the feeling of knowing you're nearly there and, barring absolute catastrophe, within cutoff. Walking up the last part of Bourne Hill it was amazing to see flashlights and hear a cheery "hello runners, well done!!!" Drew Sheffield and a lovely girl whose name I didn't catch then walked us up to the trig point, the path was nicely lit with glowsticks so no chance of taking a wrong turn, but it had eased my mind in the run up anyway to have done a recce. <br /><br />Met another two volunteers on the chalk track down into Eastbourne, again what lovely people. The track was dark and steep and slippery as fuck, no way were we going to run it at that stage. I know people did, fair dues to them, but we just wanted to get to the end in one bit. Once down in the 'burbs I went to take out my mobile to text my mother that I was nearly at the finish as I hadn't texted an update since Alfriston. Just that thought of home and something outside of the race made me start crying. Jesus. But my mobile was deep within my pack to protect it from the rain so I didn't text then after all. Finally ditched my safety blanket sandwich when I knew it was just minutes to the finish. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Got into the stadium, ran 400 metres round the track, and crossed the finish line. 50 miles. Done. Fuckin hell. The lovely lovely Nici gave us hugs, James (he has a book out you know) Adams hung our medals around our necks, photos were taken and we went inside. Then I texted my Ma and sister. Got our cold beers out from Ian's drop bag, had some wondrous chilli and hung out for a bit. More hugs from Nici then we got a cab back to the hotel, showered and met up in the 24 hour lounge with the intention of drinking it dry. Nobody else was in there so we just lay on sofas with our feet up drinking beer and chilling. Next morning we got up, slowly, checked out of the hotel and went over to Brighton to see some of our mates running the marathon. Eventually it was time for the train back to London and then goodbye to Ian as he went on to Leicester. Back to my flat for me, I hadn't told my flatmates about the race so there were no celebrations here, I think I fell asleep early for a couple of hours and then was awake for most of the night. <br /><br />At work the next day I'd only told one person so again there was nothing. I think I made a big mistake there. I'd been so so hyped up for weeks, as anyone who saw my FB posts will know, that to be in the office and not even mention such a huge experience was just too weird. I went straight from elation and exhaustion and an awesome weekend to humdrum nothingness and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I also read all the top guys' blogs and stupidly compared my own race with theirs and felt inadequate. What a womble. It'll take time and much more experience to get to the top of my game. Woohey :-) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My mood is picking up again today though thank God. I just haven't really had the time or the desire to sit down and digest and look back, but now that I have I feel better, and, well, what can I end this essay with? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you to Ian for the planning and the looking forward and the build up and being such a funny running partner, no death crawl at Dukeries this year matey!, to Kevin and Pete and Domi for their support, to my mother and sister for understanding the crankiness and lack of phone calls, to all of the volunteers, everyone who wished me well and joined in the excitement with me..... THE SDW50 IS FUCKING AWESOME AND I CAN'T WAIT TO DO IT AGAIN!!! </span><br />
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<br />Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-38018506402728875222013-10-06T20:30:00.000-07:002014-09-10T15:14:32.321-07:00Round Ripon 5th October 2013<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 15pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
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mild. Fried egg and veggie sausage sandwich for breakfast, Ian picked me up at
8 and off we set. Low key friendly atmosphere in village hall,
some poor girl got stuck in the loo for about 15 minutes but that was as
dramatic/tense as the atmosphere got. Gotta love
ultras! Within a minute of the start everyone bottlenecked at a gate
then the field started to spread out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">This was the first ultra where I’d
arranged to run with someone right from the start. You’ll always
chat and run along with those at the same pace at some stage but it was much
more fun to have company all along. Ian’s parents came too and drove from
checkpoint to checkpoint in support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I wore road shoes for the first
section as there was quite a bit of running through the village and on roads to
get out into the countryside proper. There were also a couple of
farms to go through, slipping and sliding in farmyard type stuff, and my shoes
were pretty muddy by the time we got to CP1 at 7.5 miles. I was
happy to switch into trails at this point, Ian’s parents had very kindly
brought these along for me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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woodland, very muddy and slippy, just a beautiful place to run. Some
steep slippery uphills too, all added to the adventure. Great fun
here, I was laughing aloud from sheer joy, probably sounded like a loon but
sure I was happy :-) Turned my left ankle quite a few times,
I’ve strengthened them up a lot from running offroad but there’s clearly still
work to be done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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that we ran through a cornfield. That would’ve shit me up if I was
on my own!! But I wasn’t, thank God :-)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Got to CP2 at 16 miles.
Realised at this point that the reason my shoes were rubbing strangely on the
outsides of my big toes was because I forgot to put the bloody inners back in.
They'd bunched up during a wet run so I'd removed them. Maybe a mistake
but hey 2 layers of Compeeds and I survived :-) After this checkpoint
the terrain changed and really got hilly! Bloody hell, I thought I’d met hills
before, I’m from a hilly town in Ireland after all, but no, they make them long
and steep and unrelenting in Yorkshire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I can remember one section where the
bracken was chest high, the briars and nettles were waist high, you could
barely see the ground beneath you and that ground was either wet gloopy mud or
bog, nothing else. It was feckin brilliant, my heart was racing from
the adrenaline, it sure put all of my offroad running so far into the
shade. My poor trails hadn’t a hope, I was literally skating along
on two dinner plates of mud across mud hoping to move quickly enough to stay
upright somehow. Great craic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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a long hill which was preceded by mothers of steep hills. Again I
could feel the difference with having stronger quads than say 6 months ago but
it was still hard work. There was a core group of me, Ian, Amanda
and Tom by now with around 4-5 others passing / being passed /getting lost at
around the same pace. We had a toilet break here and stopped to
check the condition of our feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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moorland. Loads of feckin dead animals, good God, there were
hundreds of the buggers, just lying dead and decomposing in the middle of
trails, don’t know why they died there but it was pretty minging. As
for stiles, Christ Alive, there must’ve been at least two dozen of the buggers
to climb over. And even some gates. Ouch. Oh!
And a myxomatosis rabbit!! A live one I mean. That was scary. And
the cows. Jesus. Wildlife hey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">By this stage my eating wasn’t going
too well. The terrain was too up and down to do a 25/5 and the
uphills were too steep to do anything but breathe. We got to the top
of a moor, think it was Kirkby, and the area was just amazing. So
wild and rough. My feet were a bit wet by now from unavoidable
bogdipping so I stopped to change into my Sealskinz. The others got
a bit ahead so Ian and I took a trail across the moor to catch
up. Mother of God. It petered out but Ian said fuck it
man up let’s keep going, or words to that effect ;-) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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down on all fours twice, it must have been funny to see but it did hurt at the
time. Stumbling into knee deep holes in the gorse, trying to avoid
wet bogholes, and then a whole big unavoidable section of gorse that had been
burned, so we were running through sharp sticks. That made interesting
marks on our legs! I did laugh once I got out of it, it was a good
unexpected addition to the whole adventure :-) It
would be a bloody scary place to get lost out on your own though, you’d want to
be either very experienced, or an awful eejit, to tackle it solo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hklsdfzdZX0/VBDLZpsUSsI/AAAAAAAAAWk/ypltJ2wwRGY/s1600/Ripon%2Bmoor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hklsdfzdZX0/VBDLZpsUSsI/AAAAAAAAAWk/ypltJ2wwRGY/s1600/Ripon%2Bmoor.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GkSnl3YOQpQ/VBDLX3VI5cI/AAAAAAAAAXA/NW0wWgydbQM/s1600/Ripon%2Bcharcoal%2Blegs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GkSnl3YOQpQ/VBDLX3VI5cI/AAAAAAAAAXA/NW0wWgydbQM/s1600/Ripon%2Bcharcoal%2Blegs.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">More running up on the moors and the
lack of food was starting to make itself felt. I took out a hummus wrap when we
were within sight of CP4 at 29 miles but I knew when it took me about 3 minutes
of chewing one mouthful like a camel that I was not eating enough at
all. At the cp I refilled my bladder and had the best cake in the
world ever. I think the RD’s wife made it. Ian’s mum was a godsend with a
banana which was so easy to eat and I really felt a boost from that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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this race, luckily Ian had shared a gps file with me and the waypoints he set
were so good that I didn’t even have to look at the map once. The
race organisers very thoughtfully provided a map book at the start with each section
(9 of them) on A5 size and laminated. Perfect. I’m glad though that
all I had to do was concentrate on running and checking the Garmin, that was
hard work as it was!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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through some more woods and then down through a nature reserve type thing where
we saw loads of grouse, into a deerpark where I didn’t video the deer running
across the road because I didn’t think of it :-) and then
around the corner to The Finish :-)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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a beautiful wild place with great company and lots of laughter. My only dark
moment was a silly fleeting “what if everyone leaves me behind” thing on the
moor when I was falling over. I soon got over that. I learned how to
mud skate and how to run across a bog fast enough that even though you can feel
the ground sinking below you you’ve moved onto the next sinking bit before it
gets you completely. I’ve climbed a shitload of stiles and gates,
breathed in buckets of fresh air and had a fantastic weekend :-) Race
organisation was spot on, nothing bad to say about it at all, I recommend this
race wholeheartedly!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-616113878899048692013-07-07T18:30:00.000-07:002014-09-10T15:14:53.616-07:00Croydon 7th July 2013<i>T<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hese are status updates I posted to FB during the race, as I didn't have a blog at the time (hence the typos etc). Bloody tough race though, shortest ultra I've done but certainly the most pain I've ever been in (hot spot on the ball of my foot from mile 7ish that developed into the most horrendous blister by mile 16 and had me in tears. I wasn't experienced enough at the time to know to deal with the hotspot when it started, and ended up limping for 2 weeks after the race) and the most relieved I've ever been to finish! Ian Shelley and Kevin Smith kept me going with phone calls and texts during the Dark Miles and meeting up with Kevin Limbert at the last CP was a Godsend, we swore and struggled and made it to the end together, after the lovely Debra Bourne bandaged up my feet. </span></i><br />
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morning - gotta be a first lol<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="usercontent"><span style="background: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;">Woohoo!!</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;"> </span></span><span class="usercontentsecondary"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;">— at</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;"> </span></span><span style="background: white; color: #3b5998; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sandilands-Sports-Ground/495362987152263?ref=stream">Sandilands Sports Ground</a></span><span class="usercontentsecondary"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spout Hill calves burning, evil !! Having fun<span class="apple-converted-space"> :-) </span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sg1FCWwu-So/VBDIUW-zK5I/AAAAAAAAAVc/K3CvrtKk1kE/s1600/keep%2Bgoing%2BCroydon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sg1FCWwu-So/VBDIUW-zK5I/AAAAAAAAAVc/K3CvrtKk1kE/s1600/keep%2Bgoing%2BCroydon.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #37404e; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Ppl dropping out cos of heat. Hot spot on right sole now. 2nd
half,head down, dig.deep. Laters!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="usercontent"><span style="background: white; color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;">Finished at 5 thank God!!!! Toughest race ever. Both feet bandaged. Have had shower.at clubhouse now getting lift to station. YO ADRIAN I DID IT!!!!</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 16.1000003814697px;"> </span></span><br />
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<span class="usercontent"><span style="background: white; color: #37404e; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">I'm tired and can't put weight on my
right foot BUT it's been a really good day with lovely people, those I've met
before and quite a few new ones. The running community really is a good one to
be part of</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></span><span class="usercontentsecondary"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">—</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></span><span class="usercontentsecondary"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">feeling</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></span><span class="usercontentsecondary"><span style="background: white; color: #9197a3; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">content.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1586178405404350158.post-42993326116679228012013-05-15T19:13:00.000-07:002014-09-10T14:50:27.122-07:00Dukeries Ultra 40 miler - 11th May 2013<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 15pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Registration for the 40 mile runners
started at 7am in a local sports/social hall. Mostly men doing this distance so
no queuing for the ladies loo at all! Great friendly atmosphere which I was
very glad of being up there on my own. The 30 milers started an hour later and
I think that was a great idea to avoid too much congestion at the start.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Weather wise it was mostly around 12
degrees C, dry, it did rain for about 20 minutes in the middle but not too bad.
Conditions underfoot were pretty much dry and the surfaces were shale, grass,
muck, trail, paths, bark mulch stuff, some tarmac and concrete but thankfully
not a lot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tr3kySI5AGU/VBDGG7tmYDI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/PJhSXUTqOo0/s1600/943703_10151677389175628_252272747_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tr3kySI5AGU/VBDGG7tmYDI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/PJhSXUTqOo0/s1600/943703_10151677389175628_252272747_n.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 15pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">An out and back for a few miles at
the start down sandy trails through the woods. The field soon split and the
hardcore racers vanished off n'er to be seen again. I ran on my own for about
12 miles but always keeping these two particular runners in sight in Sherwood
Forest. That was fine though because they were taking walk breaks too so it
didn't muck up my pacing :-) I stopped to take a photo of the Major Oak, a bit
of mistake as I got disorientated and had a little panic trying to catch up and
catch sight of some runners again, but I turned out to be on the right route
after all thank God. Beautiful trees but feck me they do all look alike when
you're in a strange place!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I then caught up with the two
aforementioned runners as another runner had gotten totally lost, gone a few
miles the wrong way and was asking them directions. We all consulted our maps,
fixed the next point to look out for in our minds and set off together. I then
ran with them till 24 miles, which was great as we chatted and the time passed
and I didn't hit any walls or want to stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">So we stopped at the checkpoint at 24
miles for probably about 15 minutes, using the loo at the visitors centre and
talking to the marshalls whilst eating bananas and filling up our water
bladders. Tam was getting cold and eager to be off so she went (she finished in
8:24, the girl was on a mission!) and I stuck with Ian. I knew the pace Tam was
going would blow me up eventually. Oh, I used an Ultimate Direction Wink
hydration vest, have been running with it full (1.9litres water) on every
single run for the last few weeks to get used to it. Highly recommend it girls!
Some reviews complain about the bladder 'leaking' but it's only if you don't
seal the top properly with the slideover thing. I was used to using one from my
Inov8 so it worked perfectly for me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Ian had a 310XT with the route on it
and it beeped alerts so that took some of the mapreading pressure off (that
stuff is HARD when you're tired and getting mentally foggy) and at really
confusing parts the RD had put arrows on the trees. We did miss one because we
were chatting and blissfully sauntering on through the trees but the Garmin
soon beeped and alerted us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Fuelwise I couldn't swallow the chia
bars at all, minging (even though I've loved them in training and with a cup of
tea for weeks now!), forced down 2 over a long distance, then switched to
bananas at the checkpoints and hummus wraps. I should've eaten more but I'll
know for next time :-)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Had a Rocky moment at 26.5 when I hit
my 'Furthest Distance Ever Run' and then another at 30 because, well, why not!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">After 30 miles is when it really
started to hurt in a 'oh fuck let's run 400 metres then walk 400' way. We
slowed down at that point but were keeping an eye on the cut off time
constantly and we knew we'd make it. The goal for both of us was to have a good
day out and make it in before the cut off and that's what we did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 15pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The last 3 miles were through fields
with hard rutted mud and concrete paths, they were fairly hard on the legs at
that point, but we walked and chatted and turned the country air pretty much
blue :-) Ian impressed me a lot with his humour and a 'fuckshitwanktittyballs'
comment after breaking into a run after a walk break. Always good to find
people on your wavelength :-)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 15pt;">The finish was up a hill through the
village, bollocks to running that! But we agreed to run the last bit once in
view of Race HQ lol. Greeted by name at the entrance by the RD, then we had the
best pints in the world ever along with pie, peas and gravy. I hugged my
finishers t-shirt, very emotional moment finishing that. Loved it all. Great
people, organisation, route, weather, experience. One for 2014 for sure :-)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 15pt;"><br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span>Coppertophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01045971189085506035noreply@blogger.com0