17th November: Gower

Not David the languid free-flowing arguably most technically gifted batsmen produced by England in the latter half of the 20th century, but the peninsular in South West Wales just beyond Swansea and setting for the latest round in the Endurancelife Coastal Trail Series.

Following my normal pattern, I left late on Friday evening killing the time of the drive by listening to the commentary of England losing 2-0 in an abject performance in an international friendly to Chile. A few hours later and having travelled through a village that sounds like some veterinarian ailment suffered by sheep: Scurlage, I pulled-up at the Worm's Head car park around midnight before hunkering down for the night... It turns out the etymology of 'worm's head' is a corruption of the Viking word for Dragon: 'wurme'.

This was the first time I'd taken the van to an overnight trip and it was great to have the extra space in the back in which to stretch out. With the walls, floor and roof of the van insulated the temperature was fine, not that it was too chilly outside in the first-place.

I awoke the next morning and had the delights of this view from behind the van, looking down the cliff to Rhossili beach below.

Breakfasting on flapjack and coffee and keeping an eye on the time I decided to saunter off to register for the event. There was no early start offered for the marathoners so running-out with the ultra's was not an option (although with my times improving I don't really need to be doing this now) so it meant the slight luxury of a 45 minute later start.

The walk to the event base of the Rhossili Bunk House only took around 10 minutes so it was an easy trek not expending too much energy. Upon leaving the Worm's Head car park looking at the beach you could see the huge hills overlooking and the ominous dawning realisation that these were most likely to be ascended on the course pretty-much immediately!

Hmm might we be scaling these?

Back in the van after registering I changed in the back and read a little as I psyched myself up for the journey ahead. With the temperature predicted to be around 10 to 12C all day and little wind to speak of I decided not to bother with a jacket and instead just had my long-sleeved base-layer with my CTS 7x shirt on top for the run. Walking back to the Bunk-House again for the safety briefing I watched a sheep-dog practicing by itself; herding half a dozen ponies whilst the farmer tended to some cows in the shed next to the paddock, whilst the pack of ultra-runners could be sighted haring off in to the distance behind the field.

No warnings of deaths en-route this time!

As we milled around for the safety briefing a couple of people had a chat with me about the shirt, asking what ones I had run before and if I had done this one. One gent has thrown himself in for the 7x challenge this year and today was his first steps to the goal, so naturally I wished him all the best as if my portly frame can make it then he certainly can!

And then we were off in to the morning sea air, jogging down towards the coastal path before turning right and the path around the Worm's Head headland back towards Rhossili. Jogging past the car park and my van, countless supporters were gathered waving on their family members and loved-ones as the car park swelled with those arriving for the half marathon, 10k events and day trippers. Rhossili and the surrounding area is also a surfing hot-spot, so there were a few day-vans, mostly converted VW Transporters parking-up with their occupant's decks lashed to their roofs.

Nearly at the top!

My earlier hunch about the hill by the beach was as correct as it was unsurprising and we had to scale this to the cliff top as we traversed the undulations northwards. I had the chance of a chat with a couple of people along the way, one gent is starting-out marathon running and this was his third, having just run the Bournemouth and Eden marathons. He has decided to do them mostly as XC to save the wear and tear on his body and enjoy the scenery.

Running atop the hills.

Looking back to Worm's Head.

Wending our way along the cliff top we passed the remnants of a WWII radar station facing out in to the Atlantic. All that remains are the concrete foundations for the steel masts and the buildings, the only man-made structure to be seen for a few miles before and after!

The former radar station.

The good thing is that for every climb there is a descent… And boy was this descent fun! It was probably the most exhilarating piece of running I have had the pleasure of doing! We went from cliff top to sea level, 500ft to 0ft over a quarter mile - that works out as a 1 in 2 gradient. Being a fat-bloke I carry a bit more weight out front than others, so when I lean forward momentum takes over and the speed quickens. I found myself bounding down the hill-side like a hyperactive mountain goat, overtaking people gingerly side-stepping or baby-stepping downwards. A bit of a killer on the big-toe nails with them slamming in to the toes of the trainers it may have been, but one hell of a rush! and at the caravan park at the foot of the hill was the first check-point of the day.

Starting the descent.

The beach below.

Looking back... You can just see the little figures on the crest and descending the green strip in the middle.

Emerging from the checkpoint we headed on to the beach and the first of the 2 extended beach runs. Each of these 2 sections is a mile of flat unremitting sand, with a third half miler thrown in for good measure after these two! The hardest part of the beach run is working your way through the ankle deep loose sand from the dunes, on to the beach top and then finding your way down to a point close to the water's edge where the sand is at its hardest and easiest to run on, and continuing along this section in as straight a line as you can to get to the other end of the sand. This stretch had me reaching for the headphones and listening to something to counteract the unremitting slog across the flat featureless terrain.

The mile of sand.

The end of the beach was the furthest north that we reached on the course and we headed in an easterly direction back on to the cliffs with the bay formed by the estuary of the River Loughor to our left. Ascending on to the cliffs I spotted a Stonechat - a striking coloured red and dark brown finch-like bird in one of the gorse thickets.

Running along here admiring the scenery, I made the fatal mistake of not paying enough attention to where I was putting my feet and tripped on a rock jutting out of the ground and turned ankle. Not fighting to keep balance as the terrain was soft slightly muddy grass I just fell on to my knees, picked myself up and hobbled-on hoping to not have knacked my ankle too seriously. After a minute or so of taking it easy, no pain had started to shoot forth, so I figured I had dodged the bullet this time. Nonetheless I necked a couple of anti-inflammatories as a precaution can carried on regardless and soon we wound our way down to the second of the two caravan parks and the second checkpoint not far beyond that.

From here we headed up on to the exposed moorland, traversing the ridge of the highest point of the peninsular as we worked our way notionally from westerly to easterly points of the course. Traversing this leg I had the chance to chat with another fellow runner in the form of Luke Carter who said he recognised me from a few of the races last year. He too was sporting his 7x tee under his jacket and like me he has the bug for these runs. He had run this race last year and was telling me that the difference between the two was immense, as last year it was a quagmire and that fun descent I mentioned before was so treacherous that a lot of people had decided it was safer to slide down slowly on their arse rather than attempt remaining upright! The conditions were so much better this year that he was already over an hour in front of the time it had taken him to get to this point in the previous running, and then he disappeared off in to the distance to finish around 10 minutes ahead of me by the race's finish.

Views from on the moor, left and right.

The end of the moorland section gave us a good downhill stretch to the next checkpoint and our second beach stage. After a section of running through the sand dunes we traversed a bridge over a stream and then the solid mile of sand.

Crossing the bridge

Soon after starting on this soulless stretch I found myself being joined by an overtaker who ran with me for the length of the beach. Since finishing uni in Swansea he has found himself in running as a hobby and lifestyle that defines him and he goes out for around 70 miles each week. This area of hills and beaches is one he loves to run having done it countless times, so with all of his practice in the area he was made-up to be running in a timed event on his training ground! It seems he has a few like minded friends who enjoy their distance running and doing things out of the ordinary. Earlier this year they completed what they describe as the 3-3-3 challenge: 3 marathons, 3,000 miles and 3 weeks. They flew out to Houston and ran the marathon there, then drove from Houston to Vegas where they based themselves whilst they ran the Red Rock Canyon Marathon, before getting back to their rooms at the MGM grand that night and chilling in the hot-tub with a few beers before heading off to the Bellagio for a buffet Kobe beef supper. Truly a once in a lifetime day! The last leg was a drive to LA and running the marathon there.

The LA marathon happened to be on St. Patrick's day and just for amusement's sake they decided to run it in super-hero costumes, namely Batman and Robin. It seems that those running the LA marathon are a bit too serious and po-faced as he cannot recall seeing anyone else running in fancy dress… Except for one man.

This one man was spray-painted green head to toe wearing only green shorts and trainers, so could only be described as a kind of leprechaun and was running whilst drinking beers with a maniacal glint in his eyes that could only mean he was high on something, be it life, liquor or lines of the white stuff!

At the far side of the beach saw for me the hardest part of the run; what seemed like an unending sheer staircase cut in to the side of the tree covered cliff. Each step was a foot in height so you were climbing plenty of elevation in not much forward travel. This just knocked the wind clean out of me in the same manner as the evil hill on the last CTS event I ran at Flete.

Around halfway I stopped for 30 seconds just to compose myself before slowly traversing onwards. to the top. As soon as the top was reached then it was gently undulating woodland path which brought with is another peril. With the autumnal shedding of leaves they were now lying over the path on the wooded floor, so were camouflaging the exposed roots and rocks, which made it an interesting section to traverse as I was reluctant to get up any speed with the risk of a plummet off the sheer cliff-side if you took a trip and a tumble! The woodlands eventually gave-way to more stunning cliff-top views out over the Atlantic as the final checkpoint loomed ahead about a mile away.

Lovely slope to a sheer drop onto rocks.

The final leg of the run started with a shorter beach section than the previous 2, this one only about half a mile, before heading up some steps onto a path behind some houses and then back up on to the cliff-tops with more undulations than we had come-across before. It was unrelenting changes of ascent to descent, some sharper than others, all of them reminding me of the Pembroke race and how far I have come since then just over a year ago.

Eventually I could see Rhossili once more and the flags of the finish line, although we just seemed to run parallel to it on our right not teasing us by not getting any closer until eventually the path took a right and finally we were approaching the finish flags and the end of the race.

Finishing this year there were no dog-tag as before, but a 2013 series medal with the race name stamped on it… Only another 6 to hopefully collect over as many forthcoming months :) Picking-up my bag I walked back to the car feeling surprisingly sprightly, most probably high on the endorphins from finishing the run, and feeling sorry for those whose races had taken a heavier toll on their bodies in far worse a shape as they limped and hobbled away. Whilst my time was not brilliant, I had finished around 2/3rds down the field, I was happy with how strong I had felt - especially in the latter stages of the race and immeasurably better an all-round showing than this time last year where I finished 3rd last in my first competitive run! It also put my performance in October's Clarendon into perspective where I did not perform to the level I thought I would have on a course far easier than this!

After my post-race protein shake (I can't wait to finish that foul stuff) and a couple of scotch eggs keeping warm in the back of the van, I changed and drove back stopping for a celebratory Whopper en-route knowing that part 2 of my weekend's activity was still to come. On the way back I passed Swansea airport, which is far more grandiose sounding than the reality - its about the same size as our local airstrip of Blackbushe (as recently featured in the film Rush doubling up as a 70's Grand Prix circuit), but there was a Hawker Hunter. in the RAE colours that we used to see flying out of Farnborough Airdrome when I was growing up, parked next to the runway, which I hope they get flying again one day.

This week I had been wearing new work boots which had been rubbing my little toes like crazy, blistering them in the process, so I knew my feet would not be good after the race before I had even started, but nothing was going to put me off the marathon! No matter how much vaseline I put on the toes before the run I knew it would not prevent the inevitable bursts and soreness, so this morning when I had to put on my football boots to play a full 90, as there were only 11 players available including me, it was truly agonising until about 10 minutes in to the game… It was one of those days where we turned-up with a scratch 11 fearing for the worst, only to find the opposition had just 10! So definitely worth putting in the extra shift to help-out and earn us a hard-won 3 points.

Needless to say after 90 minutes of solid stop-start running I was feeling the exertions of the last 36 hours!

11th November: Torch

The essence of doing all these marathons cross-country was to not have to pavement-pound and go round in circles seeing the same shit time after time. The problem in training for these runs in the winter months is the available hours tend to be in darkness, so any running gets reduced to the monotonous trudge of pavement-pounding.

In an effort to alleviate this I've noticed the surge in popularity of head-torches for running, and having a simple LED one for my daily work as an electrician in cramped dark places, I appreciate how useful they are and would be a useful tool for night-time running.

You can spend a fortune buying a head torch by Petzl or other 'brand' manufacturers out there, but I don't have the resources to go drop the best part of £300 on a head torch, so looking around for an alternative I turned to what I use on my bike for lighting as a starter.

My riding set-up is 2x Cree Q5 LED torches on the front of my bike, one set on mid beam and the other on flood to illuminate the road from directly in front of the wheel to what's a good 50 yards away and the life on the batteries is pretty good. My mates have been impressed with them and a couple have bought them just to use as torches as they are only around a tenner on E-Bay, the size of a MagLight and WAY more powerful. Thinking laterally I had a search to see if there were any Cree Q5 based head torches out there and lo and behold I stumbled across this bad-boy on Amazon for £9.98, putting it firmly in the bracket of 'if it's rubbish then at this price it don't matter!

It arrived on Saturday and I've been waiting till this evening to get out and running with it... And I have to say I'm not disappointed.

I went off on my canal 10k route which is in total darkness with no street lighting for 98% of the time, and switched it on at the first spot where the road turns to track and the puddles and pot-holes begin.

The view given by the torch on its flood setting was fantastic, emitting a cone of light that shines upon the ground in front of you to a distance of about 10m, although it takes a little bit of getting used to the tunnel-vision of staring down the cone of light that's coming from your head... The weather conditions were misty, so you could really see the whole beam reflecting off the mist and made you feel like a Dalek! It also makes you realise that you have the same problem as when you drive your car in the fog when you use this; the light rebounds off the fog particles and glares back at you rather than lighting what's in front.

I managed to traverse the common, spotting the sleeping Highland cattle on the path and able to run around them rather than running in to them, and I was able to traverse the muddy woodland and the water meadow without incident. Its amazing how different a familiar track seems when you view it at an alternative time of day. The highlights of the run were when you catch the glowing eyes of wildlife staring at you from in the undergrowth!

At the end of the canal there's the road section that takes me back to the woodlands and at this point I was glad for one of the other features of the head-torch: The battery-pack light. When you turn it on, the battery pack lights-up with its own LED glowing red in colour so you are more visible to those behind you on the road - a very good idea. I also wore a Hi-Vis vest to maximise my visibility to other road users as well.

I was not feeling too cocky so did not hurdle the fallen tree from the storm that now blocks the path in the woods, nor try running across the cattle-grid on the common, so following common-sense I went round one and walked the few steps over the other rather than coming a cropper with the marathon on Saturday!

Checking the time when I returned home I was less than 5 mins slower than my PB on this 10k route; definitely a decent showing for the first time of use! In fact I've run that course a lot slower during broad daylight, so the fact it was night and I was wearing a torch did not really have any affect on my running pace. The torch was very comfortable to wear and you did not feel like you were carrying any weight on your head, and the battery pack with its rubber casing remained in place the whole time, the only thing reminding me of what was on my head was the beam in front of me! The fact that the light has a hinge on it meant you could adjust the angle of dip on the beam for when you want a better view of what is immediately in front or what was further-off on the flat surface of the road.

Judging by this initial use, its definitely a successful purchase and has opened-up the opportunity of running XC's no matter what time of day it is, although I will stick to routes I know rather than run the risk of coming a cropper somewhere unfamiliar. Definitely a recommend for what it's worth!

10th November: Inspired

After the blow-out of last week where through working stupid hours I managed the grand total of 0 minutes exercise and with the CTS Gower marathon looming on the horizon I really needed to redouble my efforts in exercising/ training this week no matter how late the finish of my work or what the weather was like.

Having to confess to my fellow hamsters on Facebook on Sunday about not having managed anything, my paltry performance was brought in to perspective by Beth Risdon, author of the Shut Up and Run blog that I follow, who was in action in the Florida Iron Man race the previous day.

Beth had posted her race number on line and you could follow her progress through the Iron Man website, so all day from the off I was checking-in on a regular basis to see how she was faring. She has become an Iron Man (should that be Iron Woman?) from scratch in the space of a few months. She runs a great deal anyway so had a good level of fitness to start with and had completed triathlons and a half iron man in past years but doing an Ironman was not on her radar until she was approached to do one! You can read her account of her achievement on the blog with her entries for the run, the bike and the swim, and those waves getting in to the sea looked pretty damned gnarly!

Seeing Beth going about her way to finishing the Ironman was awesome, and a real motivator to get off my sorry arse and do something!.. And there was also another couple of motivators as well.

This week the organisers of the Brutal run series in whose events I have run have started a running club on Strava, which I use for tracking my cycling, with the intention of allowing those who run in their events to keep tabs on how they perform against others in training or running in general each week. At the same time, one of my clients in the village who is a keen XC runner with her dog and is getting involved in CaniX running also set-up a running club for the village so those who sign-up can again see how they stack-up against fellow members.

Unfortunately the running on Strava is kept separate from the cycling, so any mileage on your bike does not count towards your weekly output for the purpose of the running clubs, which is understandable. If you have a varied diet of training on both then you can feel that you are missing on competing against everyone else by interchanging your disciplines, however if you're just using it to keep tabs on yourself and you know you'll never top-out the rankings then there's no harm in ensuring you're not propping up the foot of the rankings at the very least!

Taking my inspiration from all of the above I resolved to get out as often as I can this week on a mixed-bag of activities.

Monday saw me return home from work early for once, so I was able to get out and go for a cheeky 10k XC on my canal route as the sun hung low in the sky. Fully rested after the week of nothingness I was feeling good from the first step and when I finished the run, having dodged cows, horses and one of this year's Roe Deer fawns on the common, I had finished the route in the fastest time I have recorded in the 4 years I have run it!

On the Tuesday I cycled off to the leisure centre in the next town for a 500m swim before jumping on the bike for the ride home. This was the first time I have ventured in to the pool since the sprint triathlon and the combination of the swim with an immediate cycle it acts as a form of 'brick' training combining the changeover from one discipline to the other.

I was determined on Wednesday to get out on a run no matter how late after Kelv sussed-out of cycling again, so at 10pm with the wind starting to get up and the rain drizzling down I emerged from the house for a session of pavement-pounding, the first time I've been out running circuits of the block in the village for a long while as I try to minimise my pavement mileage.

Having missed on the ride the previous day, Thursday saw me out on the bike on my normal circuit, although this one had an enforced detour as the underpass was underwater through the amount of rain we have experienced of late.

All of these activities were undertaken on an empty stomach - I don't tend to eat whilst I'm working, only drink so I tend to get-by on tea (if offered) or sugar free energy drinks, which is less than ideal for getting out and exercising! and I keep-on being scalded by people for doing it this way, but the way I see it is if I can consistently burn off more than is put-in, then I may cease to be a fat bastard at some point in the future

Friday and Saturday saw days of rest and today with football called-off I had the chance to get out on a longer run. In the morning after a decent lie-in LSS and I took the dogs on a long walk down the canal following my 10km running route. After a spot of lunch and washing two filthy spaniels I managed to get myself together for a run as the sun began to set, retracing the first half of the dog walk from earlier before pushing-on over the abandoned side of the canal and then through the Newnham, to Rotherwick and home.

I wanted to have done some hill-reps in preparation for next weekend's marathon - which (from looking at a GPS tracking of someone who ran it last year) has a combined ascent of more than Ben Nevis over its length! But the lateness of the day meant I could do the near 12 mile route but without hill-reps before darkness would leave me stranded, so I opted for doing the miles rather than the reps. Even so, on the last section back in to the village from Rotherwick over the fields I found myself in near darkness!

This week is certainly a contrast to the previous, with managing activities on 5 days out of the 7, each of them weighing in around the hour or longer. I'm hoping to build on this for the future and do this every week, however I'm conscious about not over-doing it this week with the marathon coming along on Saturday… As such I will not run beyond Wednesday and will certainly not be doing anything on Friday as the evening will see the 3-4 hour drive down to the Gower peninsular in South Wales.

27th October: Lull

Bit of a quiet one this week with pulling some long days at work, although come this morning I was itching to get out and run.

With the next marathon 3 weeks off I felt the need to put in some hill-work in preparation. I have been scoping-out a couple of potentials - one of which I cycled last week on the way back from the Brutal, and decided that I would combine a 12 mile run with some hill reps.

On the abandoned side of the canal near me there is a grassy hill that gets pretty slippy and muddy, so I went out on my normal XC 10k route on to the canal and instead of the turn for home, carried on to the abandoned side and did 10 reps going up the hill working on my technique: small steps, high knees, work the arms.

By the end of the 10 reps I was pretty creamed, but as much as I was feeling good for doing it as I jogged-on with the rest of my route, I don't think the hill is long or high enough to really be worthwhile using as a mainstay of training.

After reaching the end of the canal I joined the road taking me over the motorway and passed the Andwell Brewery before crossing the A30 at the bottom of 'Scures hill'... Whilst the hill is not an off-road trail, it does climb a good hundred feet over around 3/4 of a mile, and up I went it to the village of Newnham.

This may well be the hill I use for my reps as it is a reasonably quiet road, so putting a good 5 or 10 reps on this will certainly get my legs going and better used to the rigours demanded on the XC marathons, as I lose a lot of time through my lack of pace up the hills at present. Even better if I have run the 7 miles or thereabouts to get there to drag my semi-knackered arse up and down again several times before stumbling across the golf course, the fields and home!

The view at the top of those hill-reps... Makes them all worthwhile :)

The clocks have changed today, so any running and cycling will definitely be in the dark during the week from now on. At least I've picked-up a decent LED head torch for work that will be good enough for running (I hope) so I'm looking forward to taking it out for a test at some point to ascertain exactly how good it will perform in the dark and if it will be good enough to allow me to do any XC at night, which would be great as I hate the night-time trudge around the tarmac doing loops of the village till the evenings lighten. I suspect there'll be a fair bit of bike and eliptical work this winter rather than pavement-pounding to assist with my training and fitness levels.

Something I have been doing more of this week is looking at other races for the forthcoming year. With the 5 rounds of the CTS coming early-on the immediate part is already taken care of, but with a gap for the month of April, and from June onwards there's nothing booked.

I have decided that I will go for a road marathon in April - with Blackpool, where I have run plenty of times along the beach and on the promenade being the most likely candidate. June may well see me go for the Classic Quarter as my first ultra... So potentially my marathon calendar could be looking like this:

Jan:  Anglesey CTS
Feb: South Devon CTS
Mar: Sussex CTS
Apr: Blackpool
May: Pembroke CTS
May: Flete CTS
Jun:  Classic Quarter
Jun:  South Downs
Jul:   Bath
Aug: Salisbury 54321
Sep:  Farnham Pilgrim
Oct:  Glencoe
Nov: CTS?
Dec: CTS?
Dec: Portsmouth

With Blackpool and Portsmouth both being road marathons that'll be 1/5 of the way to satisfying that part of the 100 marathon club, so potentially by the end of 2014 I could be on 30 qualifying marathons already!

There's another couple of runs I've seen that I like the look of - The Wall, a 2 day ultra along the length of Hadrian's Wall & City to Summit - a 2 day ironman or duathlon if you don't like the swimming where you start in Edinburgh and end up on Ben Nevis, and the Fandance - a replication of the SAS selection run up and down Pen-Y-Fan.

20th October: Brutal

As part of my training for the next marathon I entered the latest Brutal 10k event which was held not too far away from me and just a few miles further south from the one I ran last year.

These runs are quite intensive. They may only be 10k in length but they are deliberately as tricky underfoot as they can possibly be, with lots of short-sharp hills, mud, bogs, streams etc. so it acts as good training for being back on the CTS runs as of next month.

To make this run more of a challenge I decided to cycle the 17 miles there and back so as to build on the time of cardio activity and make it better for endurance training with a combined total of around 3.5 hours with very little rest between the 3 legs. I planned to leave a good 2 hours before the event's start so I could take it easy on the ride there… Unfortunately with me being rubbish at getting out of bed, I did not leave until 8:30 with the race due-off at 10, so it was a flat-out hard cycle the whole way there, with me arriving with just 15 minutes to register and change for the start!

At least with only 15 minutes I did not have time to get cold and I had also heeded lessons from the last time out and from the Grim, and arrived wearing the clothes I would run in and brought a towel and a change of clothes for afterwards as being wet and cold is never fun when having to cycle a long distance.

The event base was on the edge of a live firing range, with an open-fronted wooden pavilion being the baggage store and registration area. Collecting my number the ladies on the desk could see that I had cycled there and asked how far. When I told them the distance they were impressed in a 'you must be nuts' kind of way as it seems I was the only person to cycle to the event this time.

My first step on the journey to this marathon madness can be traced back to a challenge laid down by one of the guys I grew-up with to run a Brutal over in Deepcut a few February's back. The run was a real eye-opener as to what proper trail-running is and the experience made me realise how unfit I was at the time and how much fun running through the countryside really is and spurred me on to the path (trail?) of where I am now. As such the Brutal 10's are always have a special place in my heart.

From the previous races I've figured that the trick with these, especially as they are only 10k, is to put your head down and keep going as hard as you can for you can afford to blow all your energy over the hour and change that it takes to complete, rather than having to conserve anything as you do in longer distances. With the terrain how it is, there are very few opportunities to get a good speed up and work on a decent time, so if you're slow and steady like me then it plays in to your hands as the field is pretty-much reduced to my level with the enforced stopping and starting for traversing ditches and trenches and picking your way over heather-clad heathland - if anything I am more sure-footed than most through being used to this kind of track and the fact I am not worried about getting wet or clarted in mud! Bearing this in mind along with the need to push myself in training, for today's race I had set myself the target for the race of running every step of the course, no matter how bad the hills would be, so I was psyched-up to get to the end in a decent time for myself.

Ready with minutes to spare I half-heartedly joined in the warm-up with the rest of the runners (having already sufficiently warmed-up from my cycle there).

The army PT led warm-up

We ran from just beside one firing range, off past the armoury and skirted a pond that reeked of the eggy smell of swamp gas.

The start with the firing-range in front.

Picking our way over the tussock strewn peat bog that the pond led us to it was slow going and single file as people kept tripping and falling over hidden obstacles before we found our way in to some woodland. The next mile was pretty straight-forward with easy undulations and a long flat stretch that was ankle-deep in water after the rain of the previous couple of days.

This was where the 'warm-up' section ended, and I was already breathing out of my arse and regretting the effort I had to put in to the ride there, cursing myself for failing to stir from my lovely warm bed in a decent time. Fortunately the terrain got a little harder again, having to run single file through a drainage ditch...

Ditch running.

...and over some 6ft deep grooves worn-out of an embankment of sand so I was able to take as much of a breather as I could, before we had to traverse a stile and were confronted with this:

Mercifully short but very steep!

The vehicle proving ground, and its hill-climb meant to test how good a pull vehicles have on an extreme gradient. At this point I caught the last of the CaniX runners: a woman being pulled-up the hill by her rottweiler - which seemed like an unfair assistance!

Leaving the test-track we traversed pine forest full of what were akin to moguls on a ski-slope, continually going up and down as well as a couple of decent hills and descents thrown in for good measure.

A decent descent.

Then crossing more moorland we had our first piece of proper fun: a 6ft drop into a 6ft wide ditch that was waist high in stinking black water, with a scramble out the other side.

The start of the fun!

Another trek across moor and through wood and then we had our next big challenge: the 'river' I put it in inverted commas as it was more like a deep drainage ditch that we all had to wade through, trying to not stumble and fall on the logs that were in the muddy bottom and totally invisible through the ink-black water coloured by the peaty soil.

Taking the plunge into the 'river'.

Wading through the mire.

My target was to get through the run without reducing to a walk, but by the time we went beyond the 8km and we were faced with another steep hill with overhanging branches that made it impossible to run without stooping at the same time, I succumbed to the temptation of following the lead of those in front and walking up it as fast as I could.

Down the other side and around a corner; tantalisingly seeing the finish line in the distance on the course that snakes around the area like a tapeworm we were still a good mile plus away from it, and next we had the novelty of running across a live firing range! fortunately not in use today, but certainly the first time I have legged-it across one of these.

The last challenge was a wade through that stinking pond we had passed just beyond the start and a short jog to the finish line.

The slow plough through the treacle-like stinking swamp mud!

Grabbing my bag from the the baggage drop I went behind the pavilion and gathered my senses, changing in to some clean dry tops and socks for the cycle back. I took the following photo of my mud covered legs. I wore a pair of old football socks for this and remembered why I shouldn't use these for running as they just filled with sand and mud during the run - oh well you live and learn!

Pure filth

After chowing down on a Kit-Kat I mounted the trusty steed and off I went to Hook, completely cream-crackered after my efforts. On the route, every traffic light I came to was on red, so it was a very stop-start journey and before I was even half way home the heavens opened and soaked me to the skin. Eventually I made it home to a bacon sanger and a warm shower to get all of that mud off.

The Brutal series of runs is certainly growing in popularity with the fields getting larger with each event I participate in, and the popularity amongst women is certainly growing more noticeably than the men. To be frank, the first one I did was a bit of a sausage-fest with hardly any women present but now I would say getting on for a third of the field is female - most likely because of the shorter distance of 10k being more attractive to a half or a full marathon for getting started on challenging cross country runs! But it is great to see that the appeal of the event is universal amongst both sexes. I thoroughly enjoy these shorter (yet challenging) runs and I have a window in my schedule for their Christmas run on the 28th December - perfect for blasting the mince pies, booze and turkey dinner away!

For the race I wore my new (I say new although they were bought in April but not yet worn) intermediate trail trainers for this, a pair of 'Karrimor Excel Dual' trail shoes and I was happy to get-along with them, although I will need to put an insole in them for longer distances and change-out the laces for elasticated ones, but grip was absolutely fine so I expect they will be a decent wear on forthcoming trail marathons.

The new trail shoes (slightly different colour though).

Oh and time-wise I did pretty good, finishing in the 38th percentile!

13th October: Grid Iron (again)

My cousin has set-up a group on Facebook by the name of Hot'n Healthy Hamsters to encourage a load of us to get fitter and healthier with the idea that each week we publish our minutes of physical activity. The activity can be anything of your choice from walking to swimming and all we have to do is add up the time. I think this approach is a really good idea as its not a measure of people's ability or fitness stacking-up against one another so it does not matter about your gender, age or size… Its a measure of the effort you are putting in to being healthy.

I have not put any of the marathon times into this as I feel that entering a time for an endurance event is a bit unfair on everyone else. Instead I have put in times so far for training minutes - mostly on the bike.

Speaking of being on the bike, the weekend saw a blank fixture week for footy so there was nothing to do on Sunday morning, and with all the Hook lads away for the weekend on a 'pseudo stag do' there was no-one around to go cycling with, so I decided to head down to do the Wessex CTC New Forest Gridiron once more.

Looking at the website it said it was full, so firing off an email to Dan & Mart's dad who is involved in running the event he said it would be fine just to turn-up at the event and ride-out with everyone else.

The event base this year has changed to a much larger one a few miles to the south from the one used in previous years, as the Grid Iron has become a victim of its own success with 1,000 confirmed riders.

Weghing-up what I had been told I decided that I did not want to put any extra strain on the event, so I drove down to the previous base and set-out from there by myself under overcast skies shouting promises of rain to come.

The route is essentially the same as the previous years I have ridden it, just a different start and end point, so after riding out on to the main part of the loop I was already in amongst all the other riders on the event.

I had decided to head-down a bit later than the official start of the real event and to ride the 60 mile route solo non-stop, something I could do by not being part of the official event as normally it requires you to stop at 2 checkpoints to have your card stamped.

Having loaded the route from the previous year into my Garmin I followed the arrow (and its occasional wrong turns through slow turning of arrows at junctions and crossroads) riding at my own targeted pace.
 
It was great to be on my 'bitsa' bike - my own custom-built hybrid road bike that I constructed a couple of years ago from bits of this and bits of that bought off e-bay and online cycle shops to see if I could get along with a road bike by making a halfway step in the form of a hybrid, and the answer is 'yes I can' and I will now get a proper road-bike organised at some point. I cycled on to the main route into the midst of the riders who had set-off around 30 mins into the event departure time. Joining the steady throng of riders I found myself considerably faster than most of these riders, with most of them saddled upon pretty expensive pieces of machinery, and I enjoyed spending the ride overtaking people, which is not bad considering that when you ride by yourself you do not have the advantage of being in a line of riders and getting a tow in the slipstream to rest. The only time I was overtaken was after the first rest-stop for everyone (naturally I had carried-on past it) where a couple of miles beyond I was overtaken by a handful of very keen club cyclists fully rested from their break and doing their machines justice by steaming past in a train at a good 5mph faster more than I was!

After a wrong turn shortly after the halfway marker that took me on a loop that added another 5 miles to the journey, the heavens began to open and within minutes I was drenched - although mercifully not frozen as the temperature was fairly warm and the wind not too strong. This made me redouble my efforts in getting to the finish and with turning in to the headwind on the final third I was grateful for the podcasts to which I was listening to take my mind off the dour weather.

Some 4 and 1/4 hours after leaving I made my way back to the car park and was able to get changed out of my wet cycling gear. 65 miles is a first for me in that it is the longest distance I have ridden non-stop, and with a bit of sensible fuelling I reckon I would be good to go on an audax 100 mile route.

The purpose of putting the time in on the bike was to prove to myself that I could do it non-stop at a speed over 15mph and to spend some serious hours of a cardio workout without stressing my knees or ankles with the marathons still to come!

I tell a lie, the real purpose of the ride was to get this elusive photo that has eluded me on all the previous Grid Iron rides… I know its puerile, but it makes me smile!

Sandy balls are never welcome!

6th October: Clarendon

Up and attem for another early start, and unfortunately a very unprepared one having only looked at the route the previous night.

The Clarendon Marathon is a point-to-point along the ancient Clarendon Way footpath from Salisbury to Winchester across country, a route that offers something rare: the chance to run between two ancient cities over trails at exactly a marathon distance.

You have two choices for this event for where you park your car. You can either drive to the start in Salisbury, run to Winchester and be bussed back, or do the exact opposite. I opted for the latter as driving to the car park in Winchester only takes around 20 minutes from home rather than an hour to Salisbury and it meant I could make an immediate getaway after the run.

I said how disorganised I was, well I did not manage to sort out an entry before the online registration closed the previous week, so I just made my way there for an on the day cancellation spot, which they had stated would be available for only a £3 premium over the normal race ticket price.

Parking alongside the motorway at the Winchester park & ride it was still swathed in a blanket of autumnal morning fog and I joined the queue for the transfer bus to the start. Climbing up the stairs of the double-decker I took a seat and read a copy of Outdoor Fitness as the bus took us on its 45 minute journey to the event base in Salisbury; the Wyvern school.

Foggy.

On the buses.

The sports hall was long opened and already full of the gathering masses for the marathon and the marathon relay's first leg. I managed to pick-up my cancellation entry and set-about preparing myself for the start.

I decided it would be the best plan to empty the old bladder before the start of the race, so I went to find the toilets. Unfortunately for all of us, the facilities for the event consisted of 5 portaloos for everyone to sort themselves out, and the queue with about 20 minutes to the start was getting on for 100 people deep!

The snaking queue of trotters for the trotters.

Standing in line I struck-up a conversation with the person in front of me. He was running the first leg of the marathon relay and unfortunately had drawn the short straw of having to register all 4 of his team and sort the numbers; running with them all in hand to pass on to the next person. Normally he's a cyclist who regularly rides audax events with his circle of friends, so pretty much a 100km ride before lunch on a Saturday morning, come rain or shine, with the line drawn at ice. Today he volunteered for the first leg and has left his bike at the changeover so he can enjoy a good ride home after the warm-up of a 10k run.

After making the end of the queue for the trotters with 10 minutes to spare (with an equal number behind me as had been when I joined it), it was a jaunt up the steps on to the playing fields to congregate under blue skies with everyone else for the start, and the realisation about how un prepared I was for this race; my body telling me that it did not feel too good about the thought of the distance to come. With the sun out I was now wishing I had brought my cap and sun-block as it was certain to be a fairly hot one, but foolishly I had consulted the weather forecast which had the day as overcast throughout and had not bothered with them rather than erring on the side of caution.

Up the hill to the field.

No fog anymore!

Off we jogged from the school, through a few streets and up a hill until we found the trail and a single-file run skirting field and woodland on a trail that was very reminiscent of the Pilgrim, including some more bemused llamas to stare at us as we all filed past.

Inquisitive llama's.

On this first leg I was running alongside a truly remarkable gentleman. He is in his mid 50's and in remission from leukaemia. Before the illness he was a keen runner and had embraced triathlon, but after falling ill he had to take a lengthy break and was now attempting to come back stronger than ever with a new focus on life. Through his illness he has realised you only get one life and having nearly seen it ripped from him before his time he is determined to run all those races he has always wanted to compete in before it is all too late... So far he has managed to finish the Iron Man Zurich in the summer after a lot of hard training to make the start of it and he is now looking to other extreme endurance events, with the Marathon des Sables on his ultimate list, although he realises that he may have difficulty gaining an entry as he will need a doctor's sign-off to compete in line with all the other entrants of the event, and he is naturally worried that he may not get this with the leukaemia and his dream will be denied him… Soon enough, being a far fitter specimen than me he hared-off in to the distance leaving me to plod along by myself.

Running across the rolls and undulations of the countryside, crossing field after field we eventually managed to reach the second check-point and the start point of the half marathon in Broughton and a slight relief that I was making ok time to this point. The second half continued much the same as the first, with the hills that we did face being mercifully small and short.

Runners snaking off in to the distance.

Looking back from the end of the field above.

Soon after this half-way marker I was caught by Jason & Leanne, a husband and wife both running their first marathon, and doing it together! They had put the miles in to their training so were progressing steadily, although they were now realising the scale of what they were doing and the fact that no matter how hard you are finding it, you've just got to keep on going till you cross that line at the end. They seemed to be enjoying it and I asked if they were considering more… and the same with pretty much every one on the first run, they replied that they would decide after they have survived this one. I told them how hard I found my first CTS one in Pembroke, especially with around 5 miles to go just wanting to curl up and cry like a baby as it nearly beat me, and said to them that they know they have the mileage within them to get to the end, the rest is purely psychological and they can pull each other along. Soon enough after yo-yo ing position with them, they disappeared off into the wide green yonder to finish 10 minutes ahead of me.

Jason & Leanne heading off.

You know that bit about the hills being mercifully small and short… Well it certainly changed for the worse after 16 miles where we encountered a series of steep sharp climbs and descents that stepped the elevation up by around 500 foot over 5 miles by the end of the sequence, having endured 1000 foot of total ascent to get there. The worst part by far was after the aid station at around 17 miles and we were faced with an absolute lung-burster, and that was just walking it! This section was a killer and certainly removed the chance of beating any PB as I certainly had not banked enough time to take this into account before I got here.

Another field to cover!

Whilst on the subject of hills, the photographers for this event were Sussex Sports Photography, who seem to do most of the events in Hampshire/ Surrey/ Sussex, and had been doing the Pilgrim a few weeks before. These guys always seem to station themselves at the top of hills, so its almost impossible to muster enough steam to get a good run towards them as an action shot, so mine tend to resemble 'inaction' shots. Anyway, I was pulling my 'moose' every time I passed them which caused a couple of the photographers to comment 'oh its you again'. It seems that I may be one of the few people who strike a pose on the way past them rather than trying to look like a determined pro runner chasing a win - something I definitely am not! At least its something different for them to shoot and they always seem to smile as I mount the antlers on approaching them!

At one point we ran along a track through farmland and on one side of the path across a fence was a herd of 30 cows and their calves, all of them black in colour. On the other side of the path across a fence was another herd of 30 cows and their calves, all of them fresians… And both sets of cows were facing one another bellowing as loud as they could, staring each other out in some form of sectarian bovine stand-off. It was as though both sides were calling the other out in a 'come and have a go if you think you're hard enough' kind of way, which was very surreal to run through the middle of.

At one point the trail dropped down to the river Test, which meant to me that Winchester could not be too far off.

Crossing the Test

Verdant river banks.

Crossing the narrow wooden bridge over the shallow fast flowing water I noticed a sign with the Endurancelife chevrons on it pointing back the way we had come… They must have been here for one of their races some time in the past!

Those familiar chevrons!

On this last stage I was caught and overtaken by another first-timer who was feeling the distance. She had been driven up from Pompey by her boyfriend who was awaiting her appearance to take a photo as she conquered the trails. He normally does things like this and she has driven him to and from countless events so with him suffering an injury it was her time to go running and him to be the support crew!.. She has only really started running seriously in the last year and is doing this to prove to herself that she has it within her to run a marathon, and was now wishing she had chosen a bit of a flatter easier course, although with a nagging back injury she was running the marathon on the trail to minimise any discomfort with the softer surface under foot.

More of the rolling countryside.

Soon after being left on my own once more, the trail ended and the road began as the edge of Winchester was found, and before long the Kings School and the finish was in sight. Crossing the line I collapsed to get my breath for a few minutes before picking up my back from the drop tent and wandered in to the school to find the showers - something that few of these events have so I was glad to be able to take advantage of them. We had been warned in advance that the hot water was a finite supply and it had certainly long run-out by the time I had got there. Braving the freezing blast I managed to shower-down, hopefully as an ice-bath benefit which soon had me cooled down and I emerged clean and changed in to normal clothes.

Scoffing my scotch eggs awaiting the transfer bus back to the park and ride I saw Jagjit standing there awaiting the same bus, so we had a bit of a chat as I had not seen him since the South Downs although he had run the Pilgrim a few weeks before. After a wait of around half an hour the bus arrived and off we all went.

The event was a good simple course with not too much on the road and as mentioned was quite similar to the Pilgrim. I did not manage to do justice to it in terms of a time through my poor preparation (I certainly did not abide by the British Army rule of the 7p's: Perfect Planning & Preparation Prevents Piss-Poor Performance) so I would like to run it again at some point to rectify this. The course was well signed and marshalled and the mile markers counted down to the finish rather than up from the start which was a welcome change as you certainly knew exactly where you were with this. I'd recommend the Clarendon to others as a simple and straightforward course that was not too challenging in the hill department, and consequently the scenery was not as spectacular as seen in other races, although there is never a dull sight when you are running through a rural landscape!