Running Through the Darkness

Scafell Pike Marathon

It's been a tough year running wise.  I'd managed a couple of decent runs post Italy - a 3rd place finish at the Scafell Pike marathon in June, a 2nd place finish at the Dales Trails 30 in July, and another runner up position at the Ben Rinnes Hill race that same month  But each time and each race felt harder and harder.  It culminated in me starting the Grand Tour of Skiddaw - a race that I had already reccied and was really looking forward to - but pulling out after 8 miles and crying on my drive all the way home.  Something was not right and now I wasn't even enjoying running anymore.

Remember why you run
I run because I love to run - the purpose and focus it gives me of having goals and targets and seeing how far I can push my body.  The routine, the discipline.  And the social side and sense of belonging - the majority of my best friends are ultra runners, my whole life revolves around running.  I run into work in the morning.  All morning at work I think about lunchtime when I can get out and run with the guys.  And sometimes I run home after work.

I tried to get philosophical about things and figure out subconsciously why I run.  Do I run to escape something or someone?  That seems to be the stereotypical conclusion that people come to when they meet someone who from the outside, appears to be "obsessed" with running.   But one day I was out on a trot and it finally clicked. I wasn't running away from anything, I never had been.   I was running after something, always chasing tomorrow.  All of a sudden lots of things made sense.  Ever since I was younger I was wishing my life away - sitting in maths class, terrified of the strict teacher, wishing it was the end of the period so I could escape.  Or being round at my mum's for her scheduled weekend, missing my dad, and wishing it was Sunday so I could go home to him again.  I was never content with the here and now, I was always chasing after tomorrow.  And I'm exactly the same today - my mind is always on other things, focussed on the "what's next" and never the "right now".  I am always running after something.  And as ultra runners we do exactly that - we wish away the next mile, the next hour, when we can get closer to the finish line.

I'm depressed because I can't run and I can't run because I'm depressed
Something wasn't right physically.   Looking back, I hadn't been right going into the 24H at Turin.  I had trained so hard for that one race, but I was mentally and physically exhausted before I even got to the start line.  And I never let my body recover from that.  I kept trying to push through it, but just kept getting slower and slower while runs were feeling harder and harder and my heart rate was constantly elevated.  As a result, I stopped enjoying running. I didn't enjoy training anymore. I could no longer keep up with the guys at lunchtimes, and so I didn't want to run with them anymore as it just made me feel worse. And I couldn't enter races anymore because I couldn't train properly for them.  So I lost my purpose, and the original physical issue had now become mental.  I was so down about the fact that I couldn't run well anymore that I ended up getting really depressed about it.  Some of the guys told me to stop feeling sorry for myself, stop moping about Italy and just get over it and move on.  But it wasn't that simple.  I'd become depressed.  I've struggled on and off with depression for over 15 years now.  I know the difference between feeling a bit down and being utterly and hopelessly depressed. And I knew that it was happening again - I'd fallen back down into a very deep and dark hole.

Something had been affecting my running which eventually resulted in me getting depressed again.  But at the same time, I know that when I'm depressed, I get an overwhelming feeling of apathy and even the simplest of tasks is tiring - I just want to sleep all the time, turn off my mind so I don't have to think about anything and shut myself away from everyone.  And so I'd ended up in this vicious cycle that I couldn't get out of - I was depressed because I couldn't run and now I couldn't run because I was depressed.

Ultra-running and depression can be a dangerous combination.  I could easily write an entire blog on this subject alone and maybe I will at some point - the high that goes with winning a race that you have dedicated months to and dreamt for years about winning, can disappear in minutes with that post-race deflated feeling.  Following Tooting Bec 24 hour last year, I should have been ecstatic - I'd just broken the 24 hour and 200km Scottish records and was the first woman to ever win the race outright - but the weeks following the race I spent in a horrible hole, feeling numb and alone.  But to succeed in ultra running requires putting your life in a dangerous balance; you have to dedicate such a huge part of your life to it, which can often mean isolating yourself from "normal" people.  This means that when things do go wrong e.g. you get injured and can't run or compete, then there is nothing and no-one to fall back on.  And this is exactly what was happening to me now.

Months passed and nothing was improving, physically or mentally.  To make matters worse, I felt that some of the people I relied on for support had started to give up on me too, frustrated with my unwillingness to "just get on with it", and not actually understanding that there was a deeper problem, but one I couldn't talk about.  And so I booked an appointment with the Dr - something I hate doing as 9 times out of 10, the reason for me seeing a Dr concerns my depression.  I didn't want to talk about this though - I wanted an answer as to why I was feeling so tired all the time - why was I getting slower at running and why was my heart rate elevated so much?  But of course, as soon as I walked into the Dr's office I started crying - and so I walked out with the same unanswered questions and a prescription for more anti-depressants.  Running had always helped me cope with my depression - it was my natural anti-depressant - and all of a sudden it had stopped working.  And I was terrified.

The turning point
Probably 3 things turned things around for me.  The first was going to see Dr Andrew Murray.  With a background in sports and exercise medicine, I thought he could help explain to me what was causing my fatigue.  Again, I didn't want to talk about my depression, I just wanted him to tell me why running felt so hard.  But of course he started to ask me about mental things too and I totally broke down and spent the entire session just crying uncontrollably.  But probably the one good thing that came from that session was that he listened to me and he told me it was ok to take the anti-depressants I had been prescribed - it wasn't a sign of weakness.  I had been too scared to take them again - I'd been on and off anti-depressants for 15 years,  and I didn't want to get into that horrible cycle again.  But he reminded me that depression is just a chemical imbalance.  Its like having a sore head he said - if you have a sore head, you take a paracetamol - it is that simple.   In other words, it's ok.  At that point I finally accepted that it was ok to start taking the pills again.

The second thing was finally finding a Dr who understood - usually when I make a Dr appointment I just go for the appointment slot and not the Dr so I end up seeing someone different every time.  By chance I happened to end up with this one particular Dr who actually took the time to look through my records and listen to me.  She could see I was depressed but she listened and she understood - there was something wrong with me before I got depressed and she was listening to me and was going to help me.  She made sure that before I left the surgery, I booked another appointment, and it would be with her.  She literally saved me.

The third and final thing that turned things around for me was getting in touch with a sports and clinical nutritionist - Renee McGregor.  I'd actually just finished reading Novak Djokovic's book about the tennis player following a gluten free diet and one of things that really hit a chord was him mentioning that some people thought there could be a connection between diet and depression.  I am always so disciplined and dedicated when it comes to training but i know that diet is the one area that I always let myself down with, and one that I always beat myself up about, and so I thought it was time to bite the bullet and speak to someone about it.  And so I scheduled an appointment with Renee and she was amazing - she told me in one session answers to the questions that I had been searching for months for.  The answer to my problems - I was simply overtrained, combined with the fact that I'd been following a really low-carb diet for almost 2 years.  Although coping with this combination for 2 years with fantastic results, my body was simply now too run down and broken to cope anymore.  The solution involved taking some high strength supplements to help kick start my immune system again, being a lot more clever about my nutrition, and start running by heart rate.  Finally I had an answer to my fatigue issues and hence, a solution to my depression.

Officially a jogger
Strava can be a great tool but it can also be a huge danger.  Easy runs are no longer easy because you don't want to log a slow run, people will see it.   As a result, short runs are too long, and slow runs are too fast.  Coupled with running most days' with the fast guys in Edinburgh meant that my easy runs were never truly easy, so my body just never got the chance to recover.  And so, I had to throw pride out the window and start listening to my body.  An easy run was no longer 7.30 m/m.  It was 10m/m and slower.  As I trotted along the canal back home after work, joggers over took me.  Girls, who I would previously have never let come near me, never mind overtake me, were sailing past me.  But I had to learn to let it go and listen to my body and my heart rate.  Renee had also advised me to start monitoring my heart rate in the mornings when I woke up.  If my resting heart rate was was higher than normal, I wasn't allowed to run.  This was incredibly frustrating for someone who "has to run" so I had to keep reminding myself to be patient and think bigger picture.

The transition from constantly high heart rate to more "normal" heart rate was literally overnight.  It really surprised me.  For weeks, I had been running incredibly slow, in an effort to keep my heart rate low.  I'd set my Garmin Fenix to beep annoyingly at me, to stop the temptation of me just ignoring it and pushing on.  And finally my patience was paying off.  I could start increasing my pace again.

Barcelona

L-R: Natasha, Marco and me at the start of the 24H and 12H races

My training partner and friend Marco Consani was heading over to Barcelona to do the 24H race in December.  I'd headed over the previous year to support my friend Karen Hathaway who was running it at the time and I knew what a great event it is.  And so I'd asked good friend Debbie if she needed any help or company in supporting her husband Marco.  At the time Debbie had suggested that I go over and run the 6 or the 12 hour, but there was no way. The majority of my runs weren't even sub 10 m/m and I hadn't run more than 20 miles for weeks, maybe months.  But as the weeks went by and my heart rate started to come down further I started to wonder if Barcelona might be a possibility.  Soon I felt I was ready to start introducing a weekly speed session again.  The other days I'd keep running on my own and not with the lunchtime guys, to make sure that I continued to run slow during my recovery runs and didn't just run at their pace.  As the weeks progressed, I noticed I was running faster, but able to keep my HR lower.  Easy runs, combined with increasing my carbs again and supplementing this with the vitamins was finally paying off and I started to think more about Barcelona.  I wouldn't be able to race it, but I could enter it and run it as a stepping stone for next year - a training run to see what it felt like to spend that much time on my feet again.  The biggest test would be mentally - was I strong enough yet to want to run round a 400 metre track for 12 hours?  I got my entry in and started to prepare.

Records are not given away.  You have to fight for them.

Note from Adrian with 3 hours to go

I knew what the Scottish record was for 12 hours and I knew I was capable of breaking it.  But not today, not this year.  I lacked the long runs and conditioning needed to race for 12 hours, and emotionally, I still felt too weak.  And so I went into the race thinking that even if I could manage 10km an hour that would be a huge result and stepping stone in my progress back to full fitness.  Adrian Stott, who had kindly agreed to come out and support me, agreed that the biggest achievement I could get from this race was to finish it with a smile on my face and to just keep moving steadily for the full 12 hours, regardless of the distance I achieved.  And so my biggest challenge, and the thing that scared me the most going into this race, was the mental aspect.  Still scarred from Italy and more recently my failure at Skiddaw, I knew that if I pulled out of this race, I was in big trouble.  I had no Plan B.

Sometimes those races that we start with little expectations, end up being those races that we excel in.  I stuck by my race plan religiously - aiming for roughly just over 10km an hour, with a 400m walk each hour. My eating plan worked well, my walking breaks went to plan, and I had no stomach issues, apart from starting to struggle to eat for the last 4 or so hours and feeling a bit sick.  The race went perfectly.  But it didn't matter if I'd run 80 miles or 50 miles - the most important thing was that I'd enjoyed the entire race, and I wanted to run.  My mojo was finally back!!!!

Everything will be okay in the end.  If its not okay, it's not the end.


Depression will always be part of my life, its something I can never escape from. But I can deal with it. I know the signs, I know the feeling when I'm starting to slip into that hole again.  But more importantly, like any endurance race, I understand that there are dark points where everything seems hopeless and you don't want to go on, you just want to lie down, close your eyes and give up.  But I also know, that if you just dig deep and keep faith, you will and you do get through it.  You just have to remember this.  You get to the top of the climb and everything has purpose and meaning again.  Life, like any ultra, is a roller coaster of emotions, and you just have to learn to hold on tight.



Thanks to:

• Adrian Stott for coming out to Barcelona to support me and for believing in me.
• Debbie Martin-Consani for all the support and encouragement during the year and on the track
• Marco Consani for not lapping me too much during the race...
• Mark Johnston, Marco and the other "Edinburgh boys" for advice and support during the year and letting me tag along at lunchtimes
• Doc Andrew Murray, Dr Hemmens, and Renee McGregor for giving me hope
• Del the magician at Proactive Physio for always taking care of my niggles
• My boss, Doc, for "understanding" my running
• My sponsors and supporters - Nathan, Honey Stinger, OSMO, Pearl Izumi and Brooks - for all the kit and continued support
• Paul Giblin for taking me on.  I'm excited to see what we can achieve in 2016 :)
• Bob and Davie.  For being my guys. 
• My Dad.  For loving me.

Guinea Pig

Currently having lots of fun testing out a whole lot of new Nathan kit.  Feedback to follow.....

Post 24H Race Update - hills, hills, hills

I've been pretty much floating about a bit race-wise since the 24H in April - the last 2 years have been all about the 24H and it left me feeling quite mentally drained.  So the aim for the summer has been to take the pressure off, and just start enjoying running again.  So, I've ditched the canal and roads and gone back to what I really love - the hills and the trails.  It's also meant a drop in miles in terms of the races I've been entering - but again, that's taken the pressure off - my thing is long races, so going into a shorter trail race, I don't have any expectations.

Race 1 - Goatfell Hill Race, May

Distance: 15.5km

Position: 5th female

Coming into the finish of Goatfell.  It wasn't pretty.   

So, first post-24H race was Goatfell hill race in Arran in May.  I took the ferry over with fellow GB 24H runners Debbie Martin-Consani, Sharon Law and Pat Robbins, and Lucy Colquhoun with her dog Kipper.  It was always going to be brutal - I'd spent the last 6 months training specifically for a flat, 24 hour race, not a short sharp hill race.  I was really happy to finish 5th female given my crapness at hill racing and general out of shape-ness, but spent the next week with the most extreme DOMS I've had in a while - my legs didn't even feel that bad after the 24H - and some funny text exchanges with Sharon and Debs regarding the state of our legs.  Note to self: must start incorporating more hills into training again!  It was a fun day out though - the forecast had been awful, with ferries cancelled the week before and we were all a bit worried about being stranded on Arran.  But it actually turned out to be brilliant - quite sunny, not half as windy as expected, and there was only a slight delay to the ferry home.  

Race 2 - Scafell Pike Marathon, June

Distance: 27.5 miles 

Position: 3rd female

Hanging onto Stuart from Nav-4 who was
 trying to make me run up the really big hill....

I knew the clue was not in the title for this one, having reccied the course weekend before with my friend Oliver Blomfield - my Garmin clocked up nearer to 28 miles.  I really felt like I wanted to do a marathon that weekend and had originally thought of Strathearn road marathon - I last did that 2 years ago when I broke the course record and got a huge PB - but I was no way as race fit as I was then....so, Fionna-logic said to do a hill marathon instead....ok, so I didn't know that Scafell Pike is the highest mountain in England!! I'm embarrassed to admit I've never known what the highest one is - everyone knows that Ben Nevis is Scotland's highest peak and its Snowdonia in Wales (please say that is right!!) but I'd never stopped to think what it was in England!  So I find that out a couple of days before the recce.  And this one lives up to its name - the hill that just keeps on giving!  I'm really grateful to Oliver for taking the time to show me the route as my navigation is rubbish.  As is my memory - I still managed to get lost in the actual race when I took a premature turn off the road and started climbing another hill - because Scafell Pike marathon clearly isn't hilly enough!  Again though, a great course, and well organised race.  Was also a fun road trip with Lucy and interesting stay in a "vintage" caravan the night before.  Note to self: we are definitely camping in a tent for the next one....On a serious note, I was actually quite pleased with the result as I didn't expect to place and didn't feel like I pushed that hard - albeit probably because I'm not back to fitness yet and wasn't really able to push, but I was pleased that my fitness is starting to come back.  Just need to refind my race head now.  Was also great seeing Joe Faulkner and Stuart Smith out marshalling on the course.

Race 3 - Dales Trail Series, July

Distance: 30ish km (actually nearer 33km)

Position: 2nd female

Similar to the Scafell Pike marathon, the Dales Trail 30km was another race I'd entered without realising that Lucy C was doing the same - similar (crazy??) minds think alike...?  It was actually my running buddy Davie Gow who had told me about the race.  Again, because I'm pretty much floating at the moment, with the aim of just getting my running mojo and race head back, I thought I'd come down and do the race as it seemed a nice friendly one.  Not really my distance, but again, pressure off.  I'd come down a few weeks previously with Lucy and Davie to do the reccie that had been organised by Richard Gale at Swaledale Outdoors.  I'd been really struck by how friendly the whole event was - everyone on the reccie was lovely and the course looked brilliant - very runnable and potentially fast.  Also, the campsite we had stayed in at Usha Gap was beautiful and so incredibly friendly (I would totally recommend it to anyone staying in Mucker - and the pub which is just a 5 minute walk across the field from the campsite) and I was really looking forward to going back for the race.  Similar to our recce weekend, we had been blessed with fantastic weather - we got our tent put up then wandered across the field to the Farmers Arms for dinner, where we bumped into David Jelley and a couple of others who had been on the reccie.  I figured Lucy was my biggest competition so tried to get her drunk, but I think she cottoned on.  An earlyish night, early morning battle with the tent zip (can you gnaw through a midge inner with your teeth??) and we were heading to the start line where we caught up with Davie and his girlfriend Stephanie and the rest of the runners.

I started the race fast - I knew the course suited Lucy more so wanted to get ahead of her, and right enough a few miles on, she was passing me on one of the long climbs.  Note to self: must eat less cakes.  I think after that, I just settled into enjoying the course - and I really did - such a scenic part of the world.  I felt really strong at the end, running up all the hills and I overtook about 3 guys in the last 800 metres - maybe its my ultra legs, it takes about 20 miles just to warm up!  I finished 2nd behind Lucy (which is always a win in my mind!) and was just happy that I can feel my strength is starting to return.  The race head still needs worked on, but its definitely there.  

Huge thanks to Richard and all the race organiser/helpers and also to race sponsors La Sportiva who have given me a really snazzy pair of trail shoes! I was sad that we couldn't camp the Saturday night too as there was quite a lot going on, but I had to head back to Edinburgh.  Again, was great seeing Stuart Smith (with Keela dog) and Joe Faulkner at the event.  Both of whom I am not stalking.

Whats next??

So, after a few months faffing about, I think enough strength and running mojo has returned to start getting focussed again.  The next race I'm aiming for will be the Grand Tour of Skiddaw at the end of August.  Between now and then I'll probably do a couple of shorter hill races (I'm planning Ben Rinnes later this month) and get down to the Lakes to recce more of the Skiddaw route.  I think that Stuart and Joe might be there too.  I'm definitely not stalking them.  Maybe they are stalking me?

World 24H Champs - Turin 2015 - Third time unlucky

"Of all the hardships a person had to face, none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting.”
The 2015 World 24 hour championships - probably the longest run up to any race I've ever done.  After originally running 216km in September 2013 at my first 24 hour race - Tooting Bec, I'd made the qualifying distance for the GB squad to run at the World Champs which were to take place in the Czech Republic that following June.  We found out in April however that the race had been cancelled and a new location and date set  - the new location, Tapai in Taiwan, and the date, pushed back until December 2014.  So, after spending the start of the year training specifically for a flat 24 hour race, I decided to jump back to the hills and did the West Highland Way race in June instead.  After the race, it was back to 24 hour training, for Taiwan in December.  A couple of months later however, and we were faced with the same frustration and disappointment as we found out that this too had been cancelled.  So again, a change of plans and I again entered Tooting Bec, this time managing to improve my distance to 233km,  again safely securing my place in the GB squad.  The new date and venue for the world champs was to be Turin, Italy, in April 2015.

"Promise me you'll always remember: you're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think..."
There are several things that I have learned so far from doing 24 hour races.

1)  Past performances do not always count:  24 hour races are so difficult to get right.  There are just so many variables.  Fitness (physical and, often more importantly,  mental), conditions on the day, nutrition (what works one day won't necessarily work the next) and support are but a few.   Looking at the merits and PB's of those on the start line, you can't take anything for granted.  Someone who has barely scraped past 200km in previous races, may toe up at the start line and hammer out 220km plus, and vice versa.

Heading to the airport

2) The mental aspect of 24 hour racing takes much longer to get over than the physical aspects: I'd run an absolute stormer at Tooting Bec last year; armed with what I thought was an overly ambitious target of 230km but full of confidence after a successful West Highland Way race, things just worked on the day, and I managed to run 233km, breaking the Scottish 200km and 24 hour records on the way.  But it was far from easy - I suffered so much in the last 6 hours, my body was screaming at me to stop, but I was being pushed all the way by GB team mate Izzy Wykes, who just kept getting stronger and stronger as the race went on.  After the race, I was obviously over the moon with my performance - but I felt almost traumatised!  24 hour races are not enjoyable.  And the suffering doesn't stop when the 24 hours are up.  The next week I spent hobbling about at work, falling asleep leaning on the photocopier and in meeting rooms, and generally feeling pretty rotten.  Then, predictably,  I got some viral bug, and spent the following week signed off work (I am extremely lucky to have a very understanding boss...).  But even after my strength returned, my chaffed skin healed and my toenails grew back, I still didn't have particularly fond memories of the race itself.  A couple of months later and I was flying out to Barcelona to support GB team mate Karen Hathaway, who was out to improve on her 24 hour PB.  Karen also had a fantastic race, not quite reaching her personal target set, but vastly improving on her previous PB and again securing her place in the GB squad for Turin (the team was to be announced at the end of December, so Barcelona was Karen's last chance to improve on her distance and make the squad) - but oh god, did she suffer for it.  Seeing the mental and physical anguish that Karen went through to get her distance and experiencing it with her as her support - the despair of seeing her race plan slip away and frustration of a failing body, but the sheer will and strength of character that pushed her on, even as her body tugged at her to stop - both inspired me but also terrified me. It reminded me of my race the previous September and of the torments I'd gone through to get my distance.  And it scared me.

3) Physical fitness alone will not get you through a 24 hour race: The fittest person toeing the line is not necessarily the person that will win.  One thing I've learned so far though my brief experience of running 24 hour races, is that you can literally run-your-body-into-the-ground.  You can run until your legs collapse beneath you, and even then, sometimes, if you really want it enough, you can lift your broken and spent body back to its feet and start running again.  I'd proven that to myself at Tooting Bec, when I tricked my body into moving steadily forward by repeating to myself over and over again that I was strong and I could do it; and I witnessed it at Barcelona, when I saw a totally destroyed Karen move her body forward on nothing but sheer will power and determination alone.  I would rather go into a 24 hour race under-trained but mentally fit (hungry and determined), than fighting fit but with doubts in my mind.

"Very superstitious....writings on the wall..."
I'm superstitious.  Debilitatingly so at times, and I always have been. I remember stressing out for the majority of my twelve year, dreading the day I'd turn 13.  When it finally happened, my dad tried to reassure me by saying it was ok, because now I was actually in my 14th year.  If I ever looked at my watch when it was 13 minutes past the hour, I'd have to keep staring at it until it changed to 14.  I still can't sit on row 13 of a flight.  And so, the Tuesday before the race, when I was leaving my house for my final taper trot and I found a black cat sitting on my doorstep, I bent over to pat it for luck.  My iPhone fell out of my pocket as I bent over and the screen smashed.  Not the best of omens.  Another thing - malteser cake - this has proven to be my secret weapon for my last couple of races - it helped power me to victory at both the West Highland Way and Tooting Bec last year.  So the day before I was due to fly out to Turin, I set about making the usual race batch.  It wasn't until after I'd finished making it and was putting it in the fridge to cool I realised I'd missed out a certain important ingredient - the packet of maltesers sat unopened on the kitchen counter.  These were not good signs.

The GB Girls Squad: L-R: Me, Izzy, Karen, Sharon, Debbie,
and team captain Emily

On a more serious note, the run up to Turin had gone relatively well, training wise. I had managed to get to the start line injury free, albeit with the usual niggles, and with a solid block of training behind me.  There had been a couple of hiccups - mostly concerning confidence (lack of)  and a few cases of CBA  - however training hadn't felt as enjoyable or easy as pre-Tooting last year - sessions felt harder, I hadn't had the same consistency of speedwork or hills, and some of my long runs were starting to feel like a chore.  I put this down to higher mileage - this time around I'd bagged more consistent 100+ mile weeks, and I was so ready for taper when it finally arrived, maybe I was just tired.  Whatever the reason, things felt different this time around, and as I result, I lacked the same confidence and hunger that I had going into Tooting.


"Sometimes you win, sometimes you LEARN"
We had a fantastic team going into the World's this year with real prospects of medals for both the men and the women's teams.  This year was to again be the joint European and World championships,  and team manager Richard was full of confidence and enthusiasm that we could and would do well.  Looking at the most recent stats of the team and comparing it with results from the last World Champs, things did indeed look promising.  However, as previously noted, past performances do not always count.  It just takes something small to start to go wrong and feel your whole race start to slip away.  

Performance wise, the last 2 years for me have gone brilliantly. Even in races that have not gone "relatively" well  (Glasgow to Edinburgh last year, Thames Trot this year), I have managed to get good results position-wise.  Something felt different today though.  After only 6 hours into the race, I felt like I'd been running for 18.  Every time I stopped to grab something at the support points, everything started spinning and I just felt really wobbly. I stopped at one point to use one of the portaloos - and once inside it felt like everything was moving.  This was not a place I wanted to pass out in.  Maybe it was the heat.  Maybe I hadn't taken enough fluids or electrolytes early enough.  Or maybe I should have readjusted my pace earlier on: I was running based on Tooting Bec pacing - so running a 24 hour race in the relative coolness of London in September, not Italy in early summer.  Whatever the reason, I wasn't feeling happy and I could feel both my strength and my positivity sap away from me.  At 12 hours I was pretty much still bang on track for my target distance, but the flame in my heart had gone out.  Quite simply, I didn't want to run any more.

"Don't dwell on what went wrong.  Instead focus on what to do next"
I've felt pretty rotten all week since the race.  I ran over 30km less than what I ran last year at Tooting Bec, just scraping past the 200km mark.  I've deliberately avoided the "if onlys" and "what ifs" though. I know deep down that if I'd wanted it enough, I could have picked up the pace again and ran much further.  But I didn't.  So the problem was my head, not my body.  I've been thinking about events before the race that caused me to stress and waste energy.  Silly things - like stressing over my kit (UKA had run out of kit, so I had been left with a men's vest that was too small for me, and a particularly skimpy pair of shorts that I wasn't looking forward to wearing).  Another thing - I didn't have the food I needed.  I've found in races that what works perfectly for me is tortilla (spanish omelette) and quiche.  I'd taken a quiche over with me, but as expected it hadn't travelled well and I'd hoped to be able to source quiche and tortilla somewhere in Turin.  Seems the Italian's aren't big on such delicacies though.  And so, a core part of my nutrition plan was pretty much missing.  Also, I think maybe part of me still expected the race to be cancelled - I'd been disappointed twice before, after the Czech Republic and then Taiwan, so maybe part of me half heartedly still expected the plug to be pulled at the last minute (as it turns out, we later found out that 2 weeks before the race, it was actually almost cancelled again!).  Finally, I think that my training had become stale - a core part of my training this time around had been big back to back miles on the canal.  I started to dread these training runs - I'm a trail runner - I run because I love the variation and beauty of running on the trails and in the hills.  Every Friday night after a full day at at work, I knew I had a long (20+ mile) trot on the monotonous canal waiting for me (often as an out and back), only to be repeated again the following Saturday morning.  The majority of these runs were done on my own.  All of these may have contributed as reasons or causes, or they may just be excuses for the fact that at the end of the day, I just had a pretty shitty 24 hours.

Walking to the podium to accept our European Bronze medals

"Only in darkness can you see the stars"
Or, simply put, sometimes you need a seriously shitty race to prove to yourself that you can carry on.  It takes overcoming such low points to prove to yourself that even when everything is over, and all you want to do is stop, sit down, cry and accept defeat, you can still carry on and just accept new goals.  My race was over at 12 hours from a competitive point of view.  It wasn't physically over, but mentally the flame had gone out - I'd given up.  My target had slipped from 230km+, to just staying on the course and finishing.  I wasn't competing anymore, I was just participating.  

But  - there are still so many positives that I can come away with (although, these were not obvious at the time, and it's taken me over a week of feeling pretty sorry for myself to realise them).  First of all - I am incredibly proud of all my team mates - Robbie Britton had an absolute stormer of a race, leading the men's team to World and European Gold and securing individual Bronze European and World medals - a huge, huge achievement, but even more considering he is still relatively "young" in 24 hour speak.  Izzy Wykes also had an amazing run, leading our girls team to European Bronze, narrowly missing out on a European individual medal, and more than making up for her disappointment at the World Trails 2 years previously.  But with 24 hour running, it's not just those that bring home the medals and perform well on the day that inspire and impress - Emily Gelder, with a PB of 238km and capable of so much more, was also having a bad race.  It was Emily however who scooped me up when I was at my lowest during the race, and pulled me along, helping me set new targets and persuading me to keep carrying on.  Marco Consani and Karen Hathaway also had bad races - I passed Karen at one point, pale as death, layered up and shivering uncontrollably as she shuffled along the course - but she was still out there and moving forward - she wasn't giving up.  And Marco - like all of us, had pretty much sacrificed everything over the last year or so for this one race, only for it to fall apart - like Karen, Emily and myself, his race was over, but it didn't stop him moving forward and shouting words of encouragement to all of us.

"We must accept finite disappointment.  But never lose infinite hope".
The week and a half since the race I've been up at the north east at my dad's.  Away from work, running and "civilisation", its given me plenty of time to think about Italy and to go through a sort of grieving process - the disappointment of not achieving what I knew I could, and the anger for allowing myself to give up so easily.  During the race, I swore to myself that this was it, I would never do another 24 hour race again.  Hell, I didn't even want to run again.  But a week and a half on.....I'm thinking about next year and the European champs, and the possibility of again making selection and running with the rest of the team.  I'm thinking about the distance I still achieved in Turin -  even though the majority of the second half was barely a shuffle - and realising that if I'd only kept fighting, I'd have still come away with a more respectable distance.   And I'm thinking about the other girls in the team - practically my sisters - and how I'd love nothing more than to be out there on that course next year, suffering alongside them!


With special thanks to:
Adrian Stott and John Pares for supporting me during the race
Richard Brown, team manager for all his guidance in the run up to the race
My "sisters with blisters" - Debbie, Sharon, Karen, Emily and Izzy 
The GB Boys: Marco, Robbie, Pat, Dan and Steve
The GB Support Extrordinaires:  including: Natasaha, Ferg, the Crazy German, Paul, Guy, Robbie's mum and fan club
Team Nathan: for supplying me with OSMO, Nathan bottles, Honey Stinger waffles and chews, and Feetures socks
Brooks: for all the shoes pre and during race (Brooks Pureflow 4)
My boss and colleagues at Aberdeen Asset Managers: for allowing me extra time for training and races
And finally, my dad: for putting up with me for 2 weeks post race-depression and for letting me deplete his wine collection.....

New shoes!! Brooks Pureflow 4

The Pureflow 4 has additional cushioning

in the tongue and an extra eyelet/hook to 

ensure the tongue stays in place.

Another block of training done, and another pair of shoes goosed.  So a quick trip to see Adrian at Run and Become where I was greeted with Brooks' latest model - the Pureflow 4.  The next generation of the Brooks Pureflow range has quite a few noticeable changes from its predecessor.  The first obvious thing I noticed was the tongue - Brooks has replaced the burrito tongue of its previous model and returned to the more conventional tongue of the earlier models.  In addition, the tongue now comes with a lot more padding (albeit with a very thin edging), very similar to that of its trail cousin, the PureGrit 1.  For those concerned that the removal of the burrito tongue will make it less secure, Brooks seems to have addressed this by adding a loop on the front of the tongue for the lace to pass through and therefore keep it in place.  The laces themselves are also thicker and feel slightly elasticated which I guess must be to ensure some flexibility around the front of the ankle on lacing.

The uppers in general feel much more cushioned, the heel has retained its rounded feature which continues to hug the foot perfectly, and the toe box remains roomy, allowing for a more natural spread - it really does feel like wearing a comfy pair of slippers!

So, initial thoughts seemed positive, but how would they feel to run in?  Straight out the box and I thought I'd take them for a 25 mile test run on the canal after work.  Despite the apparent extra cushioning (which felt amazing, especially as I'd literally run my last pair into the ground), the shoes felt as light and responsive as previous versions. And just to make sure, I did another 25 miles the next morning.  Despite the removal of the burrito tongue  (which I do miss, but more for aesthetic reasons I think) and the thicker laces, the tongue stayed in place and the laces stayed knotted.  I was content enough with the previous model, but the changes made to this latest version do all seem to be improvements that you don't realise were needed until you see them!

With just under 7 weeks to go until the World 24 hour champs in Turin, I'm looking forward to getting a few more hundred miles in these before the big day!

The geeky bit:

• Weight (size 8.5 UK mens): 300g
• Heel-to-to drop: 4mm
• Independent tongue (vs burrito design of Pureflow 3)
• Nav band for added support
• Rounded heel with wraparound collar

Thames Trotting / Mud Bashing 2015

I'd entered the TT50 before doing any actual research - time wise, it fitted in well with training for the Worlds in April - a good solid 50 miler to see how training was going, to get some miles in my legs and to prove fitness for the GB team.  When I mentioned it to friend and 24H teammate Karen Hathaway, she seemed keen to run as well, so we decided to make a weekend of it.  I then did some background reading for the race - the more race blogs I read, the more stressed I started to get - the one common theme seemed to be of people getting lost.  Its a run along the Thames Path. You follow the Thames.  It's a river, you start at one end, you finish at the other, you can't get lost, right?  Unfortunately anyone who knows me, knows that if anyone is going to get lost, it's me.  I'm the girl who got lost trying to run from Glasgow to Falkirk long the canal (keep the water on your left....).

Pre-race ale and lucky elephant

No matter, the pressure was off.  Neither Karen nor I wanted to race - Karen had just smashed her PB at the Barcelona 24H race a mere 8 weeks before to again secure her place in the GB 24H squad, so still had that in her legs, and I didn't want to disrupt my training by having to taper and then recover from what was essentially a training run.  All Karen and I had to do was to trot round unscathed, injury free to prove fitness for April and use it as a good solid training run.  So I abandoned the pre-race norms of tapering with the plan to pretty much pick up training again the week after.  The focus was after all, April.  We stayed over at the race headquarters  - the Hawkwell House Hotel in Iffley, just outside Oxford.  Pre-race dinner consisted of a packet of Quorn and a packet of cold quinoa.  I didn't want to appear too healthy though so nipped downstairs to the hotel bar to get a bottle of ale.  This was going to be my first race as a member of Nathan UK's ultra team.  I'd stressed to Stevie though not to expect much as it wasn't an A race - it wasn't even a B race - so again this took some of the pressure off.

Someone has actually sponsored me!!

The morning of the race, I did my usual mistake of eating far too much for breakfast - an instant porridge in the room when I got up, then downstairs to breakfast for scrambled eggs and muffins (it looked suspiciously like a McMuffin) and about half a loaf of toast.  I lined up with Karen on the start line feeling completely stuffed.  But very stylish in my brand new, straight out the packet Nathan Vapour vest, Osmo t-shirt and comfy Feetures socks (the boys at 2Pure will like this;))

I failed to hear what was said at the race briefing due to the chattering of the 300-odd starters around me but mostly through being distracted by the cute monkey in front of me - which started waving at us from its rucksack as we started running, much to the amusement of Karen and I.

The waving monkey

Within the first few miles I had made my first navigational error - luckily I was still with Karen and in a group though, so was put right quickly.  In my defence, there was an arrow, I was just trying to follow the wrong one.  If two things could sum up the actual race, it would be firstly, me feeling completely stressed for the majority of it because I didn't know which way I was meant to go (that actually probably sums up my life in general), and secondly, mud.  The parts where you were actually running along the Thames were fine (apart from the mud, but I'll come back to that) as they were reasonably well signposted.  It was the bits where you came off the Thames - any time the path deviated, there were no signs at all, and nothing was obvious (arguably however, I do lack the navigation gene).  I found this quite frustrating, especially in the second half, as any time I pushed on and got to a dodgy bit, I'd then have to hang back and wait for runners to catch up to once again ask advice for directions.

I love mud, I love mud, I love mud.....

The second unfavourable aspect of the race was the mud.  I absolutely love trails and running offroad.  I'm even not too averse to cross country.  I also don't like to use strong words unless I feel they are really justified.  In this case they are - I can only describe sections of this course as Pure Muddy Hell (PMH)!  It was the horrible, slimy, sticky sort of mud that sticks to your shoes, building up layer after layer so you eventually end up about 2 inches taller than you started and you feel like you are carrying weights on your feet.  I had been warned about the mud so had decided to wear my Brooks Pure Grits for traction - however, this word has no meaning or place in the world of PMH - the studs in my shoes were soon buried under layers of slime, so it was impossible to get any sort of traction.  I think the worst was not knowing how long the muddy stretches would last.  And then there would be points where you came off the mud, onto some drier patches, or even road (I never realised how much I love running on roads until this weekend!), only to then end up back on the muddy fields of.....mud.  I'm just glad that a lot of the latter stages of this, I was running on my own, so nobody witnessed the words coming out my mouth.

Wish I'd had wings to get over the PMH

 Happy interlude: wow, I have never seen so many Red Kites in my life!  I didn't realise that they had been reintroduced in the area, and today there are something like 1,000 pairs in the area, probably more!  It was the day after the race that I realised just how many there were - probably 9 out of 10 birds I saw in the sky were Red Kites.  They are really distinctive, with their reddish brown colourings, angled wings and forked tails.  Anyway, back to the mud...


The guys at the checkpoints were fantastic - very cheerful and helpful in getting our bottles refilled and feeding us cake and chocolate.  It was also fantastic to see my brother - Ally is stationed down at RAF Benson, which is one of the towns we ran though, so I'd given him a rough estimate of what

My Brooks PureGrits.  There are studs somewhere
under there.  I should probably clean them.

time I thought I'd be passing through, and asked him if he could pick up a bottle of coke and a packet of salt and vinegar square crisps.  Ally's never seen me run before (other than when we were at High School and used to compete at track and field) and I never thought to tell him to have the coke ready and opened - first of all I thought I'd missed him as he wasn't where I thought I'd see him, and then I turned a corner, saw him, and the next 15 seconds consisted of me shouting - "hey", "coke", "quick", open it", poor Ally trying to run after me and open the bottle, me whacking the bottle off my lip with coke exploding everywhere, and only managing to pour some of it down my front, and then chucking the rest of the contents of the bottle down poor Ally's jeans.  I doubt he'll ever offer to come watch or support me at a race again...I spent the next 30 odd miles thinking about how much I would love a drink of coke.....and some salt and vinegar square crisps....

I can see the finish!!

I remember finally getting to about 2 miles from the end, when I'd again been slip sliding through the mud, running through prickly bushes just to try to get some traction, when I finally reached the end of the field of PMH and hit a road - there where 3 options and no signs - left, right, or straight ahead.  Usually I choose the opposite direction of the way I think it is, as I can at least rely on the consistency of my terrible navigational skills.  However on this occasion, I was even more clueless than usual given 3 choices.  With no runners in front of me and no sign of any behind, all I could do was hang about until I saw an old lady walking down along the road - I asked her how to get back onto the Thames - her directions were to turn right, run down the road into the village and at the shops turn right.  This sounded so wrong, and I was convinced it wasn't the right way - but I didn't have an option so headed down.  After a couple of minutes (I may have cried...actually I did), I did reach some shops and also a pub - a quick shout over the bush to the folk drinking in the beer garden and it seemed I was actually going the right way.

Karen and me - job done, trophies were an extra bonus :)

Finally, with the ground no longer squirming under my feet, I was back on a path and I could see a runner ahead,  A last long straight, and then I could see the finish curving off to the left...on a nice muddy field.  I have never been so happy to finish a run!  I came in 5 mins behind the leading lady (damn!), and Karen came in a couple minutes after me - all of us were inside the previous women's course record, and finished top 12, so not bad for a wee trot :)  We were greeted with a cup of coffee and lovely homemade cake.  My brother was also there to drive us back to the start in Oxford.

When we got back to Oxford, we sneaked into the hotel a nice healthy meal from the local chippy - my brother and I always seem to use each other as an excuse to get a chippy dinner whenever we see each other, sometimes I think its probably a good think that we don't live closer or see each other too often in that respect!  Waving goodbye to my brother and finishing the day as I'd started (i.e. stuffed), it wasn't long until Karen and I were again starving.  At which point I remembered the square salt and vinegar crisps.  Which were still in Ally's car.  I'm not embarrassed to say we were the first to queue to get into breakfast the next morning :)

Looking back on the race, it was a great course - I just wish I'd been able to recce it, or there had been markers of some sort.  The organisers did a great job though, and the checkpoints were all excellent.  And the mud?  Those are the sort of challenges that make finishing races like these feel even more worthwhile.

Lessons Learned

• If you get the chance, always recee the course.  Or at least, look over the map and be sure of any tricky parts - especially the last couple of miles!!
• There is no such thing as too much vaseline (why do I never learn this??)
• Don't assume any supporters who turn up on the day without prior supporting experience, know how to support.  Remember simple things, like ask them to take the lid off a bottle, or open packets etc.
• Honey stinger ginger snap waffles are the bees knees (pun intended)

Thankyou's to

• My fantastic big brother Ally
• The guys at 2Pure for supplying me with all my fantastic new gear and nutrition
• The lovely folk at Brooks for my PureGrits (please can I get a new pair??!)
• The organisers of the Thames Trot 50
• Karen, for keeping me right on the sections we ran together and for a fab weekend :) Oh, and for the salt and vinegar square crisps!! 
• Paul Ali for providing me with advice before the race and for keeping me right on the sections we ran together.

RESULTS and REPORTS

• http://gobeyondultra.co.uk/downloads/TT15_Race_Report_.pdf
• http://gobeyondultra.co.uk/downloads/TT2015_Results_with_Splits_V3.pdf

Article taken from Scottish Athletics:

Two of Scotland’s top ultra runners were in action at the Thames Trot 50 over the weekend.

In the men’s race, Paul Raistrick was third in 6.07.44. Paul has recently been selected to represent GB and NI for the IAU World Trail event in May.

Harmeny’s Fionna Ross was second in the women’s race in 6.57.03. Fionna is the Scottish 24-hour record holder and has been selected by GB and NI for the IAU World 24-hour champs in Turin in April.

***

GB call up, Team Nathan UK, Brooks and turning 35!

The last couple of weeks have been eventful - it was confirmed and announced that I have been selected to represent GB&NI at the 2015 World and European 24H championships in Turin, Italy in April.  Hopefully it will be third time lucky, as following selection last year, the World's were cancelled twice - first the Czech Republic in June, and then Taiwan in December.   This will be my second GB vest, but just as exciting!!  I'm looking forward to running a 24H at a World Champs and will be hoping to improve on my distance.  Oh, and also looking forward to getting a whole lot of new kit - Nike have taken over from Adidas as official kit sponsors so currently waiting to get my nice new shiny kit through :)

The team lineup is:

Women: Emily Gelder, Debbie Martin-Consani, Sharon Law, Fionna Ross, Karen Hathaway, Izzy Wykes
Men: Marco Consani, Pat Robbins, Robbie Briton, Steve Hollyoak, Dan Lawson

Other exciting news.....I've been signed up to Team Nathan UK's ultra team, so will be in good company with other's including West Highland Way record holder Paul Giblin and NZ speedster Antonia Johnson.  I've already received my first box of goodies and am looking forward to trying out some of Nathan's race vests.  I've always run with UD vests in the past which I think will be a hard act to follow, but having seen some of Nathan's offerings, am excited to see how it goes.  I also don't think I'll ever run out of socks again, courtesy of Feetures :)


As well as my shiny new GB and Nathan/Feetures/Honey Stinger/Osmo goodies, I've also been fortunate to receive some support from Brooks in terms of clothing and shoes.  My shoes of choice for the last couple of years now have been the Brooks PureGrit for trail and the Brooks PureFlow for road.

Oh, and it was my birthday last week. I am now officially a vet!!!