Not too much running at the moment. The WHW Race (although it lasted only 72 miles) has taken its toll and my legs are still sore.
But I want to thank you for your comments! Full of advice and encouragement. And full of credit. It helped a lot to restore my confidence.
And I do have plans for the rest of the year: The 42 mile "Devil o the Highlands" in August and the Berlin Marathon in September.
I hope I can get back into a decent form for those and I am really looking forward to them!
Tuesday, 30 June 2009
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
Lost in preparation.
My West Highland Way Race 2009
Another DNF
First things first:
A million thanks to my support team Silke and Nancy. They had to deal with a grumpy idiot who was not even up to the challenge. I owe you big time!
A thousand thanks to Dario and his team to make this event what it is. There is nothing like it on this planet.
Thanks to all the other runners and supporters en route for making this brutal challenge so friendly and personal.
Pre Race Report
The short version:
Imagine this: You run a pretty stiff 42 mile training run on the West Highland way. That ruins your calves because you push too hard on the uphills. Then you rest for a week to let the legs recover.
Now you run a marathon and slightly overdo it… and you end up with pretty sore legs. So you sit down on the couch for two weeks to let the legs recover.
In the week before the race you also pick up a calf strain and rest for another week.
And then you stand up and try to run 95 miles.
The longer version:
I am not the most optimistic person by nature. In fact I did suffer a lot from depressions. It’s a family thing I guess. Thankfully there is a cure for my depression: Running.
It seems to release drugs which make me a normal person. Reasonably optimistic, even happy and probably good company. I hope. Ask my wife what she thinks about that.
If you google this you will find exercising releases endorphins. So I guess that’s the name for it. There is a problem with any drug, in particular those who make you happy: Eventually you need to increase the dosage. Otherwise they don’t work anymore. So guess what. I need more and more of that “running” drug. That finally made me running very long distances. I need to run almost every day. And you have guessed it: there is another problem with those drugs. If you stop taking them you will suffer. You will feel worse than ever before.
So here I was running into trouble. I had already rested the week after the Edinburgh marathon and needed to run desperately. Not just do get my endorphins. I also saw my West Highland Way Race master plan in jeopardy.
The last two weeks before the race were an absolute hellish nightmare. I completely lost it. It was all culminating in a silly argument with Silke about keeping a positive mindset and about hope. But arguing did not make things better…
Two weeks before the race where I had planned a few crucial long preparation runs for the Race I could not run at all. My Quads just kept locking up completely. The weather was just perfect for running and I was in envy of every jogger in the streets and there were hundreds of them.
The wonderful race experience I had from the 52 mile Highland Fling ultra race had lured me into dreaming of an equally successful West Highland Way Race. And I was about to awake from that dream…
The mercy stroke was a calf strain one week before the race. Before that I had hoped to have at least a few runs on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday just to get some fresh blood through my legs before the race. That calf injury however was bad enough to prevent any running. I had one pathetic attempt of cross training in the gym which lasted 25 minutes and only seemed to have made things worse. However a last physio appointment on Thursday revealed that I should be ok to have a gentle jog on Saturday. I did not tell my physio though about the nature of that “gentle run”.
I knew I was not fit for the race. Not for this race. Because this was not just a race. This was a serious distance. 95 miles. Don’t get me wrong. I still thought I have this in me. I am not that pessimistic. But not this year. And surely I still was fit but not for 95 miles. But maybe some sort of miracle would even get me to the finish. And even if I fail there was still a choice to be made between a DNF (did not finish) and a DNS (did not start).
At the end I did not have a choice. I got a lot of very sympathetic and encouraging comments on my blog, I got text messages from friends, emails and phone calls. Silke and Nancy (my support team) both had already booked annual leave for the race. The hotel in Fort Bill was booked too. Gear and supplies were ready anyway. And I did not want to disconnect from the race. I wanted to be a part of it. And since I was absolutely desperate for a run I had to be at the start and why not see how it went? I discussed this many times over and over again with Silke and at the end we both made the decision that I would give it a go. And as it turned out it was the right decision!
Race Report
The short version: No I did not finish (again). Arrrghhhh!!!
But I made it to the Kingshouse Hotel. And that makes it a PB. Sort of…
The looong version:
This is not just a race. This is about the people who organise it, the support crews and the runners themselves.
And it is not just a race, because it is indeed a pretty mad race. 95 over rough terrain trough clouds of blood sucking insects.
At the pre race registration one of the first familiar faces was “Drama Queen” Mark Hamilton. A witty friendly person and good runner but his story could bring me into trouble since he ran 80 odd miles of the 2006 race with a broken ankle. And he finished.
Knowing that story and similar stories about endurance and determination did not leave me much choice: 1) You start 2) You finish. I still hoped to get away with it...
Mike Thomson looked pretty determined and confident (and after last years DNF he was about to have a great run finishing in 21:44).
I had a brief chat with Joe Sheridan. He was part of the race organisation and had run the race before. I knew his honest race tale from the 2007 race “THE RENAL WAY” I had read it again and again.
http://www.westhighlandwayrace.org/Witness.htm#sheridan
I saw the BBC team interviewing Richie Cunningham. A talented and popular long distance runner. He was about to have an absolute incredible race.
I finally met Austrian runner Martin Mayrhofer (and his team) who was nervous but surprised by the friendliness of competitors and organisers. I had exchanged a few mails before the race (unfortunately Martin pulled out of the race later at Rowardennan due to illness.)
I had only a brief chat with John Kynaston, Marco Consani and Ian Beattie. We had been in contact the weeks before the race. And they all have given me support through those depressing weeks and I owe them big time!
I met Orkney’s Graham Harcus again. I ran with him parts of the Devil’s last year and parts of this years Fling. He did the West Highland Way Race in 2007 in 23:35 struggling with an injury over the last stages. I would see more of him today during the race and I was absolutely delighted when I learned after the race that he finished in 10th place in 19:07.
I had a nice chat with Race Legend Alan Kay. He had to withdraw from the race due to illness. And I got his number! 14. That number has a meaning because it would have been his 14th time!
I chatted with Jens Lukas who won the race in 2008 (he also won the 246k Spartathlon several times). He was full of advice and friendly words. He was here to support his wife Maya today. I got a lot of encouragement from him during the race…
I meet Kenny Valentine again. Under “normal” conditions someone “to watch” and since he was in good form (I thought) I told him that today I would be no match for him. He does not quite believe me. As it turns out he too did not have the smoothest build up to the race and was struggling with a foot injury. I would see more of him today…
I meet a few more familiar faces and we all wish each other well although I tried to tell everyone that I was not expecting to have a great race and I did indeed not expect to finish this. I was just here for a jog. Not for a goblet. Not that I did not want one but for me it was out of question. My legs would not carry me to the finish today. Or would they?
The Start:
The briefing is over and we move towards the start. I had told Silke to position herself near the West Highland Way Sign and there was a reason for that. Since I had not run for more than 5 yards since my calf injury last Saturday I simply did not know what was going to happen once I started running. So that was simply the first checkpoint. Would I even make it up the stairs?
Dario counts down and off we went. I am somewhere in the middle of the field I think. I am so nervous just doing the first steps, will I be able to run at all? I am almost freaking out. But it works. There is not pain in my legs. The legs feel actually fine. A numb niggle in both calves but certainly good enough for a jog. I pass Silke waving into her camera and settle into a gentle jog. Listening into my body anxiously. Into the woods and I can’t really remember who I am talking to (was it Mike Thomson?). But after two miles I keep saying “this is already the longest run I have done in three weeks!”.
Slowly my mood changes. The more I run, the better I feel. I am breathing fresh air. I feel my heart beating. I feel great. I AM RUNNING AGAIN!
I realise I can make it to the next support point just after the Beechtree. I am still anxious about the state of my legs and fitness but the positive force coming from the simple fact that I was running for more than 30 minutes now was taking over.
The weather was great. The head torch works perfectly. I know the route. I would find the way to Fort William in my sleep. There are a few occasions where runners take the wrong turn and I shout directions towards them. I have no idea how fast I am but I am progressing well. I spot Graham Harcus and we run together again for a while and talk. In fact we ran most of this section in the Fling together. He is great company as usual. Today I am no match for him. He is in top form and I am not. I am here for a gentle jog (check with my physio!).
Approaching the Beechtree Inn is a first highlight. Not far behind I meet Silke and Nancy and I ask them for my energy gel and a fresh bottle. I know they are delighted to see me in good shape and they realise my race is not over yet. I will see them again near Drymen (12 miles into the race).
My legs are slowly showing signs of problems. Both calves started to tighten up. My left hamstring was getting sore. And slowly I noticed a numb pain in both quads returning. Nothing serious though. I also spotted Kenny Valentine again who was running nearby. I told him that I expected him further ahead. He replied that he followed a more modest pacing strategy today. I don’t know if he already had problems at that time but I found out later that he was struggling with his quadriceps and that developed into a serious issue for him. It felt great to run with runners like Graham and Kenny. It was a sign that I had not lost all my fitness and I was in fact in good shape. However I was aware that my endurance was not accordingly after the long training pause. But you can’t have it all.
We approached Drymen and it was a happy moment when I met my support team running well and I told them I was going to meet them in Balmaha again. And I was looking forward to the Garadhban Forrest and Conic Hill. There was a lot of applause when I passed the other support crews and there was a voice shouting “C’mon Crazy German!!!” and I replied “is Marco going too fast again?”
I checked my watch and I think it was 1:54. Marco’s plan was 1:55. Was he still behind me? No way I thought.
Drymen to Balmaha:
A wonderful section. ‘Loved every minute of it. I forgot about the race and my silly legs and just enjoyed my running. Most of it on my own, still using my head torch since it was still dark. Something warned me “if it’s still dark here you are too fast” but I was not here today to finish. No way. Or was I?
The undulating path here helped my legs to recover since all the different muscles got their fair share of work to do while others could recover. I close up to the group of Kenny and Graham again (there are a few other runners in that group but can’t remember who it was). On the climb up to Conic Hill I fall behind. My calves didn’t like it. I am still happy and enjoy the ascent. The weather is friendly and the air smells great. On the decent I hear a runner approaching from behind. It sounds like Marco I thought instantly. And it is indeed Marco. The “new Marco” who was following his new strict pacing strategy. I did not expect to see Marco at all during the race today to be honest. And I have to admit I was a bit embarrassed that I was ahead of him since I had told him I was not in shape for this today. But I assured him that I had little hope of a finish. I am not sure he believed me. But running with him today was an absolute highlight for me.
I told him the moderate pacing strategy would pay off but at some point he told me that his moderate pacing was not all due to discipline and even if he wanted to go faster he couldn’t. That was worrying I thought but I did not tell him that. I still hoped he would have a good race.
He finished but did not succeed with his strategy as it turned out. I was gutted when I learned after the race he struggled badly in the second half finishing almost three hours slower than last year.
I was pleased to reach Balmaha and tell my Support Team to drive to Rowardennan (27 miles into the race). We were joined by Sharon Law, cheerful as ever. We chatted a lot (and it was not just her chatting, honestly). She is an amazing runner and I guessed she would win in a time under 20 hours. And indeed she did. The last time I saw her was when she overtook me somewhere behind Inversnaid. That was difficult technical running and she was absolutely flying. Incredible.
(rewind) Reaching Rowardennan was another highlight for me. The midges were horrible and I tried to make it as short as possible and I told my support team the good news (I hope they took it as good news) that I would make it to Carmyle Cottage (44 miles).
Running from here was starting to get more difficult. The pain went but came back stronger and my legs slowly lost the momentum. I could not help myself comparing this run with the Highland Fling race which was over the same route. In the Fling I was much faster but despite that much fitter and stronger. And there was no pain.
It was towards the end of the Loch where all the runners I ran with before had pulled away. And I was full of envy. At this stage John Kynaston overtook me. He asked me how I was doing and I thought do you tell him the truth? Not too well I said. The pain had started too early. I was struggling. John was on schedule and I was happy for him. He had worked hard and got himself in good shape for the race. And he should earn the reward for this. And he did with another sub 20 and new PB 19:52.
I started to disconnect from the race more and more. My first real low points kicked in. But it was not over yet. I needed to offer my support team more than just the Carmyle Cottage. They had driven that long detour on the A82 to get there. I will make it to Tyndrum. That was my plan. Maybe there was more. Let’s wait and see. I reached Beinglas and John was sitting there having a rice pudding I think. And there were midges. Thousands of them. I did not talk much to John (sorry John!) but I just felt awful. I told him he would catch up anyway and I left towards Derridarroch.
I had a fantastic section here in the Fling and I started to enjoy my running again. The pain came and went in waves. I started to feel that I had achieved a lot today. More than I ever expected. I should be grateful. Could I make it to Fort William?
I finally reach Carmyle Cottage. I don’t stay long. I don’t want to sit down since it would be hard to get up again. And I need to find a private spot…
The hilly session behind Crianlarich is tough and finishes off my legs. But I did not actually suffer that much. Strange. It was easy. I can’t really remember to be honest. I reach the A82 and my team changes shoes and socks. That feels great. Maybe because I sit down for the first time. Why are we changing the shoes? Ok, I have complained about blisters. Tyndrum is not that far. Am I getting ready for the second half? Am I going to finish this?
The new shoes and socks feel absolutely great! Getting into running is painful but once I am running again the run to Auchtertyre feels fine. No question: I will make it to Tyndrum (53 miles).
I do arrive at Tyndrum and here I am getting confused. Was my race over or should I continue? I am done, I cannot run anymore, don’t you see? I am looking at Silke with anger. What more do you want? Have I not done enough for today? I am not saying any of this outloud though. I look around. “you are looking great!!!” someone says. I hear applause. There is Debs. “Wohooo! Crazy German”. Silke seems to be smiling.
I think I have to continue. This is not the Fling. This is another ball game. Damnit. Fe**.
See you in Bridge of Orchy (60 miles). And off I am on my way into the second half. The Devil so to speak.
Maybe subconsciously I had tailored that race today for a Tyndrum finish. I was done and dusted. It turned out that I could still move forward. Those walking breaks however felt more and more wonderful. So I took more and more. My quads however turned more and more into solid mode. So whenever I threw them forward the stride was getting shorter. I did not feel tired. But I started loosing control over my legs. I still reached Bridge of Orchy after 1:25 (from Tyndrum) and that was very reasonable. If I could maintain that pace I would still be able to finish. Good news was that Silke got the OK from the Race Marshal in BoO that she was allowed to support me over the Rannoch More from Victoria Bridge onwards.
So off I went over the hill behind Bridge of Orchy. Silke and Nancy would meet me at the Inveroran Hotel. Here I noticed that my optimism from the previous section was a bit premature. Tyndrum to BoO was an easy section. Mostly downhill. I now had a hill to climb. How to lift my legs without the use of my rebelling quads and calves? I am an idiot. I should not have started this race today. I was not fit. What was I thinking? Another DNF. But did I not already make my peace with that before the race?
I finally do make it to the top of that hill. But I cannot run. Barely walk. My steps are getting shorter and shorter. How do I get down that silly hill? I do get down finally. There is Silke and Nancy. Silke is in full gear. She is excited. She is finally going to be my support runner and bring me home to Fort William. I cannot look here into the eyes. This is a no win situation. The further I get the bigger is the disappointment. I cannot finish this. Sorry. I have a soup. It is quite nice actually. A couple of gels. Some smoothy. I get up and make myself on my way to Victoria Bridge (63 miles). I do not know how long that takes but I notice my strides are getting smaller again…
There is no harm in giving it a try to get to Kingshouse (72 miles) from here. Maybe walking for a bit would help my legs to recover. So I head off together with Silke for that 9 mile walk to the Kingshouse Hotel. Now this was about to become a strangely entertaining and actually enjoyable experience. Firstly there was actually no one else to see ahead or behind. Slowly the moore became more and more busy with runners overtaking us. Not particulary fast I would think so far into the race since most of the runners by now must have slowed down… but I was moving in fact so slowly it felt like I was standing next to a busy motorway.
And all of the runners passing by tried to encourage me. I knew many of them and some knew me from my blog and I did not know them. I felt a bit like a star and a true part of the race but I also felt I did not deserve all this since I was getting more and more powerless over my legs. Silke started pushing me or pulling me just to get some sort of forward momentum going. And it was not getting any better. The weather was friendly to us during our walk over the Rannoch More. Strangely I lost the feeling in my hands despite wearing gloves and I started shivering although it did not feel that cold. I can’t really remember but I was not really suffering but my left leg was completely seized up. I was glad that I was in Silke’s company and we were sharing this experience together. At Blackrock Cottage Jens Lukas was encouraging me again and gave me some biscuits and hints and tips.
It took us 4 hours for those nine miles and it would have taken me more than that on my own. I checked in with the marshals. The plan was to sit in the car for a while and wait for a miracle to happen.
I saw Kenny Valentine still at the checkpoint badly struggling with his quadriceps. He had them taped and massaged again and again and boy I could see he was in pain. He tried to walk and shook his head. I swear he is a good runner and more than that and I still believe I am a good runner too and I would have loved to have competed against him today and beat him (and Marco and Pacepusher! On the finish line!) but this was the end of our races. I pulled out at Kingshouse today and so did he. The race got the scalp of both of us.
Talent is not enough to get you to Fort William.
There is more to it.
But I’ll figure that out.
Promise!
I’ll be back!
Another DNF
First things first:
A million thanks to my support team Silke and Nancy. They had to deal with a grumpy idiot who was not even up to the challenge. I owe you big time!
A thousand thanks to Dario and his team to make this event what it is. There is nothing like it on this planet.
Thanks to all the other runners and supporters en route for making this brutal challenge so friendly and personal.
Pre Race Report
The short version:
Imagine this: You run a pretty stiff 42 mile training run on the West Highland way. That ruins your calves because you push too hard on the uphills. Then you rest for a week to let the legs recover.
Now you run a marathon and slightly overdo it… and you end up with pretty sore legs. So you sit down on the couch for two weeks to let the legs recover.
In the week before the race you also pick up a calf strain and rest for another week.
And then you stand up and try to run 95 miles.
The longer version:
I am not the most optimistic person by nature. In fact I did suffer a lot from depressions. It’s a family thing I guess. Thankfully there is a cure for my depression: Running.
It seems to release drugs which make me a normal person. Reasonably optimistic, even happy and probably good company. I hope. Ask my wife what she thinks about that.
If you google this you will find exercising releases endorphins. So I guess that’s the name for it. There is a problem with any drug, in particular those who make you happy: Eventually you need to increase the dosage. Otherwise they don’t work anymore. So guess what. I need more and more of that “running” drug. That finally made me running very long distances. I need to run almost every day. And you have guessed it: there is another problem with those drugs. If you stop taking them you will suffer. You will feel worse than ever before.
So here I was running into trouble. I had already rested the week after the Edinburgh marathon and needed to run desperately. Not just do get my endorphins. I also saw my West Highland Way Race master plan in jeopardy.
The last two weeks before the race were an absolute hellish nightmare. I completely lost it. It was all culminating in a silly argument with Silke about keeping a positive mindset and about hope. But arguing did not make things better…
Two weeks before the race where I had planned a few crucial long preparation runs for the Race I could not run at all. My Quads just kept locking up completely. The weather was just perfect for running and I was in envy of every jogger in the streets and there were hundreds of them.
The wonderful race experience I had from the 52 mile Highland Fling ultra race had lured me into dreaming of an equally successful West Highland Way Race. And I was about to awake from that dream…
The mercy stroke was a calf strain one week before the race. Before that I had hoped to have at least a few runs on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday just to get some fresh blood through my legs before the race. That calf injury however was bad enough to prevent any running. I had one pathetic attempt of cross training in the gym which lasted 25 minutes and only seemed to have made things worse. However a last physio appointment on Thursday revealed that I should be ok to have a gentle jog on Saturday. I did not tell my physio though about the nature of that “gentle run”.
I knew I was not fit for the race. Not for this race. Because this was not just a race. This was a serious distance. 95 miles. Don’t get me wrong. I still thought I have this in me. I am not that pessimistic. But not this year. And surely I still was fit but not for 95 miles. But maybe some sort of miracle would even get me to the finish. And even if I fail there was still a choice to be made between a DNF (did not finish) and a DNS (did not start).
At the end I did not have a choice. I got a lot of very sympathetic and encouraging comments on my blog, I got text messages from friends, emails and phone calls. Silke and Nancy (my support team) both had already booked annual leave for the race. The hotel in Fort Bill was booked too. Gear and supplies were ready anyway. And I did not want to disconnect from the race. I wanted to be a part of it. And since I was absolutely desperate for a run I had to be at the start and why not see how it went? I discussed this many times over and over again with Silke and at the end we both made the decision that I would give it a go. And as it turned out it was the right decision!
Race Report
The short version: No I did not finish (again). Arrrghhhh!!!
But I made it to the Kingshouse Hotel. And that makes it a PB. Sort of…
The looong version:
This is not just a race. This is about the people who organise it, the support crews and the runners themselves.
And it is not just a race, because it is indeed a pretty mad race. 95 over rough terrain trough clouds of blood sucking insects.
At the pre race registration one of the first familiar faces was “Drama Queen” Mark Hamilton. A witty friendly person and good runner but his story could bring me into trouble since he ran 80 odd miles of the 2006 race with a broken ankle. And he finished.
Knowing that story and similar stories about endurance and determination did not leave me much choice: 1) You start 2) You finish. I still hoped to get away with it...
Mike Thomson looked pretty determined and confident (and after last years DNF he was about to have a great run finishing in 21:44).
I had a brief chat with Joe Sheridan. He was part of the race organisation and had run the race before. I knew his honest race tale from the 2007 race “THE RENAL WAY” I had read it again and again.
http://www.westhighlandwayrace.org/Witness.htm#sheridan
I saw the BBC team interviewing Richie Cunningham. A talented and popular long distance runner. He was about to have an absolute incredible race.
I finally met Austrian runner Martin Mayrhofer (and his team) who was nervous but surprised by the friendliness of competitors and organisers. I had exchanged a few mails before the race (unfortunately Martin pulled out of the race later at Rowardennan due to illness.)
I had only a brief chat with John Kynaston, Marco Consani and Ian Beattie. We had been in contact the weeks before the race. And they all have given me support through those depressing weeks and I owe them big time!
I met Orkney’s Graham Harcus again. I ran with him parts of the Devil’s last year and parts of this years Fling. He did the West Highland Way Race in 2007 in 23:35 struggling with an injury over the last stages. I would see more of him today during the race and I was absolutely delighted when I learned after the race that he finished in 10th place in 19:07.
I had a nice chat with Race Legend Alan Kay. He had to withdraw from the race due to illness. And I got his number! 14. That number has a meaning because it would have been his 14th time!
I chatted with Jens Lukas who won the race in 2008 (he also won the 246k Spartathlon several times). He was full of advice and friendly words. He was here to support his wife Maya today. I got a lot of encouragement from him during the race…
I meet Kenny Valentine again. Under “normal” conditions someone “to watch” and since he was in good form (I thought) I told him that today I would be no match for him. He does not quite believe me. As it turns out he too did not have the smoothest build up to the race and was struggling with a foot injury. I would see more of him today…
I meet a few more familiar faces and we all wish each other well although I tried to tell everyone that I was not expecting to have a great race and I did indeed not expect to finish this. I was just here for a jog. Not for a goblet. Not that I did not want one but for me it was out of question. My legs would not carry me to the finish today. Or would they?
The Start:
The briefing is over and we move towards the start. I had told Silke to position herself near the West Highland Way Sign and there was a reason for that. Since I had not run for more than 5 yards since my calf injury last Saturday I simply did not know what was going to happen once I started running. So that was simply the first checkpoint. Would I even make it up the stairs?
Dario counts down and off we went. I am somewhere in the middle of the field I think. I am so nervous just doing the first steps, will I be able to run at all? I am almost freaking out. But it works. There is not pain in my legs. The legs feel actually fine. A numb niggle in both calves but certainly good enough for a jog. I pass Silke waving into her camera and settle into a gentle jog. Listening into my body anxiously. Into the woods and I can’t really remember who I am talking to (was it Mike Thomson?). But after two miles I keep saying “this is already the longest run I have done in three weeks!”.
Slowly my mood changes. The more I run, the better I feel. I am breathing fresh air. I feel my heart beating. I feel great. I AM RUNNING AGAIN!
I realise I can make it to the next support point just after the Beechtree. I am still anxious about the state of my legs and fitness but the positive force coming from the simple fact that I was running for more than 30 minutes now was taking over.
The weather was great. The head torch works perfectly. I know the route. I would find the way to Fort William in my sleep. There are a few occasions where runners take the wrong turn and I shout directions towards them. I have no idea how fast I am but I am progressing well. I spot Graham Harcus and we run together again for a while and talk. In fact we ran most of this section in the Fling together. He is great company as usual. Today I am no match for him. He is in top form and I am not. I am here for a gentle jog (check with my physio!).
Approaching the Beechtree Inn is a first highlight. Not far behind I meet Silke and Nancy and I ask them for my energy gel and a fresh bottle. I know they are delighted to see me in good shape and they realise my race is not over yet. I will see them again near Drymen (12 miles into the race).
My legs are slowly showing signs of problems. Both calves started to tighten up. My left hamstring was getting sore. And slowly I noticed a numb pain in both quads returning. Nothing serious though. I also spotted Kenny Valentine again who was running nearby. I told him that I expected him further ahead. He replied that he followed a more modest pacing strategy today. I don’t know if he already had problems at that time but I found out later that he was struggling with his quadriceps and that developed into a serious issue for him. It felt great to run with runners like Graham and Kenny. It was a sign that I had not lost all my fitness and I was in fact in good shape. However I was aware that my endurance was not accordingly after the long training pause. But you can’t have it all.
We approached Drymen and it was a happy moment when I met my support team running well and I told them I was going to meet them in Balmaha again. And I was looking forward to the Garadhban Forrest and Conic Hill. There was a lot of applause when I passed the other support crews and there was a voice shouting “C’mon Crazy German!!!” and I replied “is Marco going too fast again?”
I checked my watch and I think it was 1:54. Marco’s plan was 1:55. Was he still behind me? No way I thought.
Drymen to Balmaha:
A wonderful section. ‘Loved every minute of it. I forgot about the race and my silly legs and just enjoyed my running. Most of it on my own, still using my head torch since it was still dark. Something warned me “if it’s still dark here you are too fast” but I was not here today to finish. No way. Or was I?
The undulating path here helped my legs to recover since all the different muscles got their fair share of work to do while others could recover. I close up to the group of Kenny and Graham again (there are a few other runners in that group but can’t remember who it was). On the climb up to Conic Hill I fall behind. My calves didn’t like it. I am still happy and enjoy the ascent. The weather is friendly and the air smells great. On the decent I hear a runner approaching from behind. It sounds like Marco I thought instantly. And it is indeed Marco. The “new Marco” who was following his new strict pacing strategy. I did not expect to see Marco at all during the race today to be honest. And I have to admit I was a bit embarrassed that I was ahead of him since I had told him I was not in shape for this today. But I assured him that I had little hope of a finish. I am not sure he believed me. But running with him today was an absolute highlight for me.
I told him the moderate pacing strategy would pay off but at some point he told me that his moderate pacing was not all due to discipline and even if he wanted to go faster he couldn’t. That was worrying I thought but I did not tell him that. I still hoped he would have a good race.
He finished but did not succeed with his strategy as it turned out. I was gutted when I learned after the race he struggled badly in the second half finishing almost three hours slower than last year.
I was pleased to reach Balmaha and tell my Support Team to drive to Rowardennan (27 miles into the race). We were joined by Sharon Law, cheerful as ever. We chatted a lot (and it was not just her chatting, honestly). She is an amazing runner and I guessed she would win in a time under 20 hours. And indeed she did. The last time I saw her was when she overtook me somewhere behind Inversnaid. That was difficult technical running and she was absolutely flying. Incredible.
(rewind) Reaching Rowardennan was another highlight for me. The midges were horrible and I tried to make it as short as possible and I told my support team the good news (I hope they took it as good news) that I would make it to Carmyle Cottage (44 miles).
Running from here was starting to get more difficult. The pain went but came back stronger and my legs slowly lost the momentum. I could not help myself comparing this run with the Highland Fling race which was over the same route. In the Fling I was much faster but despite that much fitter and stronger. And there was no pain.
It was towards the end of the Loch where all the runners I ran with before had pulled away. And I was full of envy. At this stage John Kynaston overtook me. He asked me how I was doing and I thought do you tell him the truth? Not too well I said. The pain had started too early. I was struggling. John was on schedule and I was happy for him. He had worked hard and got himself in good shape for the race. And he should earn the reward for this. And he did with another sub 20 and new PB 19:52.
I started to disconnect from the race more and more. My first real low points kicked in. But it was not over yet. I needed to offer my support team more than just the Carmyle Cottage. They had driven that long detour on the A82 to get there. I will make it to Tyndrum. That was my plan. Maybe there was more. Let’s wait and see. I reached Beinglas and John was sitting there having a rice pudding I think. And there were midges. Thousands of them. I did not talk much to John (sorry John!) but I just felt awful. I told him he would catch up anyway and I left towards Derridarroch.
I had a fantastic section here in the Fling and I started to enjoy my running again. The pain came and went in waves. I started to feel that I had achieved a lot today. More than I ever expected. I should be grateful. Could I make it to Fort William?
I finally reach Carmyle Cottage. I don’t stay long. I don’t want to sit down since it would be hard to get up again. And I need to find a private spot…
The hilly session behind Crianlarich is tough and finishes off my legs. But I did not actually suffer that much. Strange. It was easy. I can’t really remember to be honest. I reach the A82 and my team changes shoes and socks. That feels great. Maybe because I sit down for the first time. Why are we changing the shoes? Ok, I have complained about blisters. Tyndrum is not that far. Am I getting ready for the second half? Am I going to finish this?
The new shoes and socks feel absolutely great! Getting into running is painful but once I am running again the run to Auchtertyre feels fine. No question: I will make it to Tyndrum (53 miles).
I do arrive at Tyndrum and here I am getting confused. Was my race over or should I continue? I am done, I cannot run anymore, don’t you see? I am looking at Silke with anger. What more do you want? Have I not done enough for today? I am not saying any of this outloud though. I look around. “you are looking great!!!” someone says. I hear applause. There is Debs. “Wohooo! Crazy German”. Silke seems to be smiling.
I think I have to continue. This is not the Fling. This is another ball game. Damnit. Fe**.
See you in Bridge of Orchy (60 miles). And off I am on my way into the second half. The Devil so to speak.
Maybe subconsciously I had tailored that race today for a Tyndrum finish. I was done and dusted. It turned out that I could still move forward. Those walking breaks however felt more and more wonderful. So I took more and more. My quads however turned more and more into solid mode. So whenever I threw them forward the stride was getting shorter. I did not feel tired. But I started loosing control over my legs. I still reached Bridge of Orchy after 1:25 (from Tyndrum) and that was very reasonable. If I could maintain that pace I would still be able to finish. Good news was that Silke got the OK from the Race Marshal in BoO that she was allowed to support me over the Rannoch More from Victoria Bridge onwards.
So off I went over the hill behind Bridge of Orchy. Silke and Nancy would meet me at the Inveroran Hotel. Here I noticed that my optimism from the previous section was a bit premature. Tyndrum to BoO was an easy section. Mostly downhill. I now had a hill to climb. How to lift my legs without the use of my rebelling quads and calves? I am an idiot. I should not have started this race today. I was not fit. What was I thinking? Another DNF. But did I not already make my peace with that before the race?
I finally do make it to the top of that hill. But I cannot run. Barely walk. My steps are getting shorter and shorter. How do I get down that silly hill? I do get down finally. There is Silke and Nancy. Silke is in full gear. She is excited. She is finally going to be my support runner and bring me home to Fort William. I cannot look here into the eyes. This is a no win situation. The further I get the bigger is the disappointment. I cannot finish this. Sorry. I have a soup. It is quite nice actually. A couple of gels. Some smoothy. I get up and make myself on my way to Victoria Bridge (63 miles). I do not know how long that takes but I notice my strides are getting smaller again…
There is no harm in giving it a try to get to Kingshouse (72 miles) from here. Maybe walking for a bit would help my legs to recover. So I head off together with Silke for that 9 mile walk to the Kingshouse Hotel. Now this was about to become a strangely entertaining and actually enjoyable experience. Firstly there was actually no one else to see ahead or behind. Slowly the moore became more and more busy with runners overtaking us. Not particulary fast I would think so far into the race since most of the runners by now must have slowed down… but I was moving in fact so slowly it felt like I was standing next to a busy motorway.
And all of the runners passing by tried to encourage me. I knew many of them and some knew me from my blog and I did not know them. I felt a bit like a star and a true part of the race but I also felt I did not deserve all this since I was getting more and more powerless over my legs. Silke started pushing me or pulling me just to get some sort of forward momentum going. And it was not getting any better. The weather was friendly to us during our walk over the Rannoch More. Strangely I lost the feeling in my hands despite wearing gloves and I started shivering although it did not feel that cold. I can’t really remember but I was not really suffering but my left leg was completely seized up. I was glad that I was in Silke’s company and we were sharing this experience together. At Blackrock Cottage Jens Lukas was encouraging me again and gave me some biscuits and hints and tips.
It took us 4 hours for those nine miles and it would have taken me more than that on my own. I checked in with the marshals. The plan was to sit in the car for a while and wait for a miracle to happen.
I saw Kenny Valentine still at the checkpoint badly struggling with his quadriceps. He had them taped and massaged again and again and boy I could see he was in pain. He tried to walk and shook his head. I swear he is a good runner and more than that and I still believe I am a good runner too and I would have loved to have competed against him today and beat him (and Marco and Pacepusher! On the finish line!) but this was the end of our races. I pulled out at Kingshouse today and so did he. The race got the scalp of both of us.
Talent is not enough to get you to Fort William.
There is more to it.
But I’ll figure that out.
Promise!
I’ll be back!
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
34:59:59
After the Highland Fling I could not wait for the WestHighlandWay Race to start. Time was not moving fast enough. I was looking forward to the big day like a small child counting the days before Christmas.
Now it's 9 days to go and all that looking forward and wonderful anticipation of having a great race has gone. Why? The Edinburgh Marathon has left me with rotten quads. I still cannot run. 2.5 miles shuffle and then I am down to walking. My plan about running a high mileage the week before the race is not going to happen. It's all my fault. Why did I not just run a 3:30.
A sports massage has brought no improvement. My chief executive support director for the WestHighlandWay Race (who also happens to be my wife) does not want to hear my suggestions that I might not finish the race (again). "There will not be another DNF!". Period. If you cannot run "then walk" she orders. "You can walk now so you can walk on the 20th". "Others have been walking most of the way, like Debs with a damaged knee (thanks for that Debs!), so you can walk too". "She has been walking all through the night in hellish weather, and the finished, why can't you do that too?" (that was not a question!). "There is plenty of time!"
Looking now at my pacing chats with those wonderful predicted split times which I had created the week after the Fling I am more than embarrassed. Thank god I did not publish any of that nonsense.
The good news is I am not overtrained! And there are surely a lot of bones and tendons and muscles in my body celebrating. "If the quads want to go slow or even walk, what's the problem? FINE WITH US!" that seems to be the consensus.
9 days!
Now it's 9 days to go and all that looking forward and wonderful anticipation of having a great race has gone. Why? The Edinburgh Marathon has left me with rotten quads. I still cannot run. 2.5 miles shuffle and then I am down to walking. My plan about running a high mileage the week before the race is not going to happen. It's all my fault. Why did I not just run a 3:30.
A sports massage has brought no improvement. My chief executive support director for the WestHighlandWay Race (who also happens to be my wife) does not want to hear my suggestions that I might not finish the race (again). "There will not be another DNF!". Period. If you cannot run "then walk" she orders. "You can walk now so you can walk on the 20th". "Others have been walking most of the way, like Debs with a damaged knee (thanks for that Debs!), so you can walk too". "She has been walking all through the night in hellish weather, and the finished, why can't you do that too?" (that was not a question!). "There is plenty of time!"
Looking now at my pacing chats with those wonderful predicted split times which I had created the week after the Fling I am more than embarrassed. Thank god I did not publish any of that nonsense.
The good news is I am not overtrained! And there are surely a lot of bones and tendons and muscles in my body celebrating. "If the quads want to go slow or even walk, what's the problem? FINE WITH US!" that seems to be the consensus.
9 days!
Monday, 1 June 2009
Edinburgh Marathon 2009
And less than 3 weeks to go...
Results
For Silke this was a season's highlight. Her second Marathon ever. And although she had a few problems in the last weeks with her training due to illness she was in good shape to go for a PB. Her old PB from her first Marathon was a 4:23 but given the circumstances setting a 4 hours target was a bit harsh. That did not even take the particular factor of the following day into account: heat! In a rather unusual dimension for Scotland.
We travelled to Edinburgh on the Saturday before the race by train and since I enjoy reading whilst travelling by train I took Karnazes "Ultra marathon Man" (again) and was reading the great chapters about the Western States and Badwater. Maybe that prepared me mentally for the temperatures of the following day.
The race:
I had to follow a no risk strategy. 3:30, maybe 3:15. Not too fast and listen to my body. No injury. Any pain slow down. Max speed of 7 minute miles. Not faster. 160 heart rate max. Just one week after the hard 42 mile training run my legs would be vulnerable. With the WHW Race in 3 weeks I had to be very careful.
It was in deed more than just warm when I was lining up with approx 13000 runners (?) just before 9 o'clock on the Sunday morning and waiting for the race to start. Off we went finally and hundreds of runners soaring away going 6 minute mile(ish) pace or faster.
I was not pushing (maybe I did but not deliberately) and in particular the early downhills were a pleasure to run. My heart rate was a bit of a surprise. Climbing into the 190s. Much higher than my recently calculated max. My breathing was easy so I assumed my watch was getting conflicting results from other runners wearing a similar belt.
I passed a red double decker bus after a couple of miles into the race and there was an incredible cheer coming from that bus and strange in particular since that cheer sounded like my name "Thomas". I looked closer and it turned out the bus was packed with Glenpark supporters and team mates. I have to admit that spurred me on and I went on slightly faster... The Harriers supporters were well placed and I got a quite a few massive cheers from them along the course. I also saw the Consanis twice and they too cheered me on. I had to deliver a good race to deserve all that credit I thought...
Back to the race. I did not spot any mile markers until mile number 6. So I had no idea how fast I was. I passed the 10k timing mat in under 39 minutes. A pleasant surprise but I doubted this was accurate though. However since I was potentially on PB course I tried to keep the pace reasonably high until the half way point and decide what to do later...
The few mile markers I spotted turned out to be extremely unreliable. One lap was done in 7:10 and the following in 5:30 according to the splits and I finally did not bother about taking splits anymore. I reached the half way timing mat in 1:24:39. This was good but not good enough to go for a PB because that would require really hard work. And running was not getting easier since the temperature was climbing further. I did enjoy the run though. All the way. Although I had a few niggle alarms in the last quarter of the race. My right calf muscle almost went into spasm so I stopped a few times to massage and stretch. My right quads first and then my left quads were tightening up. But I kept changing my running style to compensate that. You can call that limping if you like... ;-) I passed the 30k mat in 2:00:38 which was still excellent but probably incorrect because I kept the pace high now with the wind pushing and finished "only" in 2:50:50.
The Musselborough race course was overcrowded and so were the streets. Runners and spectators alike filling the small streets near the finish which were still open to the traffic. Car drivers close to road rage almost deliberately hitting pedestrians to push them out of the way. Policemen shouting at pedestrians to stay off the road. But there was not space to walk anywhere else. And now more and more runners finishing they too flooded the streets since there was no other place for them to go. It was rather chaotic.
I squeezed myself through the masses to find a spot to wait for Silke to arrive. I was extremely pleased to see her approaching the finish almost on dream target time. She was suffering from the heat though. She finished in 4:02:44 official time. A PB by more than 20 minutes. Incredible.
My Splits:
10k: 00:38:58
Half: 01:24:39
30k: 02:00:38
Marathon: 02:50:50
Results
For Silke this was a season's highlight. Her second Marathon ever. And although she had a few problems in the last weeks with her training due to illness she was in good shape to go for a PB. Her old PB from her first Marathon was a 4:23 but given the circumstances setting a 4 hours target was a bit harsh. That did not even take the particular factor of the following day into account: heat! In a rather unusual dimension for Scotland.
We travelled to Edinburgh on the Saturday before the race by train and since I enjoy reading whilst travelling by train I took Karnazes "Ultra marathon Man" (again) and was reading the great chapters about the Western States and Badwater. Maybe that prepared me mentally for the temperatures of the following day.
The race:
I had to follow a no risk strategy. 3:30, maybe 3:15. Not too fast and listen to my body. No injury. Any pain slow down. Max speed of 7 minute miles. Not faster. 160 heart rate max. Just one week after the hard 42 mile training run my legs would be vulnerable. With the WHW Race in 3 weeks I had to be very careful.
It was in deed more than just warm when I was lining up with approx 13000 runners (?) just before 9 o'clock on the Sunday morning and waiting for the race to start. Off we went finally and hundreds of runners soaring away going 6 minute mile(ish) pace or faster.
I was not pushing (maybe I did but not deliberately) and in particular the early downhills were a pleasure to run. My heart rate was a bit of a surprise. Climbing into the 190s. Much higher than my recently calculated max. My breathing was easy so I assumed my watch was getting conflicting results from other runners wearing a similar belt.
I passed a red double decker bus after a couple of miles into the race and there was an incredible cheer coming from that bus and strange in particular since that cheer sounded like my name "Thomas". I looked closer and it turned out the bus was packed with Glenpark supporters and team mates. I have to admit that spurred me on and I went on slightly faster... The Harriers supporters were well placed and I got a quite a few massive cheers from them along the course. I also saw the Consanis twice and they too cheered me on. I had to deliver a good race to deserve all that credit I thought...
Back to the race. I did not spot any mile markers until mile number 6. So I had no idea how fast I was. I passed the 10k timing mat in under 39 minutes. A pleasant surprise but I doubted this was accurate though. However since I was potentially on PB course I tried to keep the pace reasonably high until the half way point and decide what to do later...
The few mile markers I spotted turned out to be extremely unreliable. One lap was done in 7:10 and the following in 5:30 according to the splits and I finally did not bother about taking splits anymore. I reached the half way timing mat in 1:24:39. This was good but not good enough to go for a PB because that would require really hard work. And running was not getting easier since the temperature was climbing further. I did enjoy the run though. All the way. Although I had a few niggle alarms in the last quarter of the race. My right calf muscle almost went into spasm so I stopped a few times to massage and stretch. My right quads first and then my left quads were tightening up. But I kept changing my running style to compensate that. You can call that limping if you like... ;-) I passed the 30k mat in 2:00:38 which was still excellent but probably incorrect because I kept the pace high now with the wind pushing and finished "only" in 2:50:50.
The Musselborough race course was overcrowded and so were the streets. Runners and spectators alike filling the small streets near the finish which were still open to the traffic. Car drivers close to road rage almost deliberately hitting pedestrians to push them out of the way. Policemen shouting at pedestrians to stay off the road. But there was not space to walk anywhere else. And now more and more runners finishing they too flooded the streets since there was no other place for them to go. It was rather chaotic.
I squeezed myself through the masses to find a spot to wait for Silke to arrive. I was extremely pleased to see her approaching the finish almost on dream target time. She was suffering from the heat though. She finished in 4:02:44 official time. A PB by more than 20 minutes. Incredible.
My Splits:
10k: 00:38:58
Half: 01:24:39
30k: 02:00:38
Marathon: 02:50:50
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