Skyline Survival

With blue sky visibility and no snow this should have been a pleasant introduction to the legendary fell race the Edale Skyline. Veterans will know that there's really no such thing, but my oh my....! What a total nightmare I had today.
At 2 miles I was probably in about 50-60th place and consciously trying to slow down
At about 6 miles I was letting numerous speedy descenders (not my strongest suit) zoom past assuming I would catch them up on the ascents as I have done in shorter races.
At the 12 mile Mam Nick I was pleased with my 2 hour time and beginning to imagine a top 100 placing perhaps around 3.45hrs.
At 12.2 miles having stopped for a big drinks and gel refuel, I began to realise everything wasn't tip top; it felt like someone had left the cap off my fuel tank, and with almost 9 miles to go I suddenly felt dangerously close to the red.
At 15 miles I was well into survival mode, any ideas of a decent time had been dropped and just completing the thing would be a victory.
At 17 miles my right leg refused to work locking up in agonising cramps. At one point I wondered how long I would have to lie there before I was eventually airlifted to the human skip in the sky.
At 19 miles my whole upper body began to go numb with the only feeling one of pins and needles.
At 20 miles the cramps which had been appearing intermittently completely took over both legs.
At 20 1/2 miles I still thought I might not finish and was particularly worried about passing out in front of everyone on the final field.

Well I did finish in 4 hours 13 minutes and 146th place. I was pretty embarrassed by my performance - Ive had difficult times in the mountains before but I've never had the wheels come off so severely before. My guess is that there were two issues, firstly I think I got very dehydrated - despite drinking 3/4 litre it was surprisingly wind free and hot and I overdressed. The main one though was that I was under-prepared, the longest run I'd done was 1hr 50mins and that was on nice trails, what I needed was 3 or 4 3hr bog-missions. All in all it's been a very big learning process and with my second half marathon only 5 weeks away Ive got to knuckle down if I don't want to get punished.

Leave nothing in the tank

"Leave nothing in the tank" was a phrase or something similar used by Bradley Wiggins about his efforts each big day in this years Tour de France. It really captured my imagination. I guess its like the Spanish climbing phrase "A Meurte" which sort of translates as "to the death" and means to give absolute maximum effort.

A week or so ago I was musing on how you gauge success, and for me on all the achievements I'm most proud of it's where "I've emptied the tank". It's that feeling that you just couldn't have done anymore.

Well I had one of those days today when I ran my first half marathon over at Worksop. It was a beautiful sunny day, but quite a challenging course, with some tricky hills (hills as in a road race not a fell race or mountaineering stylee). The Good run guide claimed it was equivalent to running a 13.7 mile race on the flat (so maybe 3 or 4 minutes slower than a super flat course at my pace). Luckily you run down the biggest hill in the last mile and I think this is what pushed me right to my limit. It was a bizarre feeling falling/running as fast as I could but desperate for it to be over. I almost completely blew a gasket and the involuntary noises I made provided plenty of entertainment for onlookers. The result 1.29.44 (chip time) and 112 out of 1509 runners. Well Chuffed!

Hope Moors and Tors

Did my second fell race today the Hope Moors and Tors (8.5 miles). Staggering to the top of Mam Tor at about halfway I was surprised to see Mick Ryan taking pics. Seeing Mick it was easy to smile he's such a cheeky chappie; climbing's equivalent to Peers Morgan with his highly effective "agent provocateur" approach to climbing journalism and of course one of the supremos behind UKC. Although it looks like I'm power walking I was actually trying to run, although having just summitted Mam Tor my legs weren't really playing ball.Photo Mick Ryan
At this point it I was probably in about 30th place. Luckily for me all the good runners were doing the long course - 20 miles! - and so they all turned off leaving me in 3rd place. Yipee!

Stanage Struggle

I had a vision of my first fell race of endless bog squelching through mist and rain, with back breaking hills being galloped up gazelle like by impossibly fit old men. Well the latter was definitely true but luckily bogs were almost entirely absent and weather wise it was one of the best mornings of the Autumn so far. The course was a long drag up out of Hathersage through the Plantation and up onto the Edge at which point I was pretty sure I was doing some permanent damage to my spine. Then a mile an a half along the tops past High Neb before a hell for leather descent back to the village. Unfortunately I hadn't counted on the series of mini hills leading up to the church to finish which almost brought me to my knees. The personal point that really summed up how special this race felt was on those finishing inclines when I was doing all I could just to keep going, several of the marshalls started cheering me on. That often happens at most races but they personalised it by shouting out my number, a small thing but it seemed to make a massive difference.

Of course with all races you like to compare where you finished and this one had a high proportion of climbers. I was 62nd out of 286 just behind Al Williams - guidebook design guru, and about 2 1/2 minutes behind Ron Fawcett, who I'd put as a good proper runner, although rumours are that he was recovering from an injury. I was pretty chuffed to beat Neil McAdie by nearly 7 minutes as he'd goaded me into doing the race, but very humbled to be thrashed by a similar amount by Alpine guide Jon Morgan who finished in 3rd place!!

The Struggle's website has results, pics and more info http://www.fbrc.co.uk/