Onwards

 

The fact that it's just over a month since the Copthorne and I haven't written a follow-up post until now is probably all you need to know about recovery. The last four weeks of term were very busy and stressful, and basically I had no time to recover. It took until Christmas Day for the physical side of things to really hit, although other than a couple of persistent niggles, recovery seemed to be going well.

Mentally, recovery is proving to be a very strange and unsettling process, but more of that in a bit.

Here's what I can recall of the immediate post-race period:

Straight after the race was just odd. As I said in the race blog, I felt nothing. It also felt odd to stop moving forward. I didn't expect to want to eat and true to post-race form I couldn't face any food, just cups of tea. I remember Alan being delighted to give me the second place trophy and then waiting anxiously to see if the only other woman out on the course would finish before the cut-off. But much of it is very hazy. Lisa was a hero and removed my socks and tried to clean my feet up. I can't remember anything else really except at one point I wanted to get off the chair, and as I stood up black spots appeared, my head felt hot and huge waves of nausea washed over me. I said to Mike that I was going to pass out, some people caught me and helped me lie down. Then I was lying in an emergency cot, Lindley took my temperature and checked my blood sugar. I think I was a bit cold. 

It took quite some time before I was able to be upright without feeling extremely wobbly and faint. Did my legs and feet hurt? Honestly I can't remember other than not being able to put shoes on because my big toes were such a mess. The short drive back to Mike's once the race was all over and everything packed up was really uncomfortable- sitting was just about the last thing my body wanted to be doing! Once back at his, I was ok getting up and down the stairs although I still had to take the sideways approach to going down them.

The week after:

I was content to do no exercise at all, and in any case I was too busy. It was good, if a little strange, to be able to stay in bed until 6am. Not having to train in the evenings made the end of the day feel less frantic too which was just as well as I was often on taxi duty for one or both of my teens. My appetite was off, but I've learned to just go with it; eat what and when my body says to, and not to worry about it. However, I'd planned to continue with recovery protein drinks to aid healing if I wasn't eating much but completely forgot to do this.

By the following weekend I was mentally very much ready to start back training. My body had other ideas though so I just tried to move a bit each day for 20-30 minutes and if anything hurt or felt uncomfortable than it was time to stop or back off. A bit of rowing, a bit of yoga- I tried running but the knee pain returned. I tried lifting too but it's taken until now for picking up heavy things to feel ok.

The brain side of it all:

Possibly the hardest thing has been the mental side of recovery. I've continued to feel literally nothing about finishing that race and that is actually really upsetting. Why can't I feel good about what I achieved? Why do I have no desire to celebrate the completion of a year-long project? Why do I still feel completely numb about the whole thing? In fact I've been going over the race reflecting on what I want to do better next time, because it hasn't take that long for me to know that I need to go back and make a better go of it. But that won't be in 2023- I need to do some different things in the coming year and work with some shorter-term goals.

I think that the focus of training for Copthorne was really important for me all year. It gave me purpose; it meant I had to not just train well but actively take time to look after myself both in terms of nutrition and rest; it gave me a reason to wake up each day. The huge mental effort of training day after day, month after month kept a great deal of sadness at bay, or perhaps it's more accurate to say that I was able to pour all that pain into my training and put it to good use. When I was a musician, my best creative work was born out of dreadful bleakness, hurt and despair so it's not so ridiculous to say that this time it fuelled and inspired my training.

Something from the race is haunting me but I can't seem to put it into words. There was something about those last few loops of the Copthorne... Being utterly consumed by physical and mental pain in those last 20 or 30 miles, feeling so completely alone, overwhelmed and annihilated by the process... Honestly I don't know how to begin to describe it. Enduring that nightmare for those hours has changed me somehow, or at least left an indelible mark. I can't say that I am stronger or better for it, just, well, different. I think it's really hard not being able to describe what I mean because it makes me feel so isolated and I want so badly to share the experience with you. Perhaps it's this inability to articulate the experience that is the reason for feeling numb. 

The future:

To try to regain some feeling of control I've set myself a goal of training for a road marathon in the first half of the coming year. I've put a 10k trail time trial in the diary in January (possibly to repeat a month later), and then a 50k in March (which will mess up the training a bit but it's really just planned as a fun day out) and actually have a 4 month training plan to follow. This is all rather out of my comfort zone but doing something different feels like the right thing to do. Training to run faster might prove to be too much but it doesn't matter if it is. Shifting focus for a few months onto intensity and quality rather than volume should bring both short and longer-term gains even if I end up having to bail out of the marafun.

I guess you'll just have to watch this space to see...

My Pain Belongs to the Divine

 This is an incredibly hard post to write although it's not because I failed; it's because I feel quite numb and somehow my brain won't let me remember. It's not quite the write-up I want, but it's the best I can do for now.

I've documented my training over the last 11 months and I think I've made it clear how hard it has been at times. It has felt like having a second job: the constant focus on sticking to my plan, all the early morning sessions, the evenings doing a second training session, the focus on nutrition and recovery, the planning and preparation... It took over my life. It had to take over if I was ever to be worthy of standing on the starting line.

Race HQ photo by me

 

    But finally, at silly o'clock on Saturday 26th November,  I was at  Mickleham village hall, sick with nerves and my stomach tied into knots. Registration was quick and efficient, with all my mandatory kit checked. Then it was just waiting around until 8am. It was lovely to see some friends again including Eros and his guide Sarah, who I met for the first time at Two Towers; and Andy from Ultra Magazine who I've not seen for a few years. I already can't remember who else I talked to- I was so nervous!

We had the pre-race briefing, went outside and apparently there was a countdown to the race start but somehow I didn't hear it. And then everyone was off.

Loop the first

It was a beautiful day for a race; mild for November, and sunny at times. I felt calm, and a quiet confidence that I had it in me to finish. My goals (other than finishing) were to keep on top of nutrition and hydration- getting that right at least for the first half of the race would stand me in good stead for later miles- and to keep my head in the right place, accepting whatever happened but not dwelling on it. 

My right leg felt a little tight on the first loop but I assumed it was just because I'd thoroughly tapered leading up to the race so it was just a little protest about running again; it would ease off after a while and was nothing to worry about. I ate everything I planned to and drank all my energy drink, as I proudly announced to Mike when I saw him manning the road-crossing at the foot of Satan's Staircase. Up those steps for the first time taking care to pace myself, a smile and wave to Lenny who was race photographer, and then safely down Goodnight Sweetheart into the main CP. End of loop 1.

photo by Lenny Martin

Loop the second

A quick turnaround to dump rubbish, grab the next food bag and refill my bottle, then out onto Loop 2. From here onwards I have very few clear memories, just the odd moment, and even then I mostly can't say which point in the race I was at. The weather remained good during the day, there were lovely views from the Box Hill trig point. I remember seeing Lenny there too, and explained to him that I couldn't touch the trig point until my last loop (I always have to run to the trig and give it a hug or a pat, but there really wasn't time to do that every loop).

photo by Lenny Martin

Loop the third

By this point something was wrong. I had a blind panic when I picked up my nutrition bag for the loop because there was no Mountain Fuel drink powder in it. How was that possible? I had meticulously packed and checked each bag. It wasn't until later I realised I simply hadn't recognised the packaging-  most of the powder had been measured into clear plastic bags but there were a few Veloforte energy drinks thrown in for variety. Not a good sign if my brain was uncooperative already. In addition to this, the niggle in my hip flexor hadn't settled. It had got worse. I was scared now, it brought back memories of my horrendous time on Autumn 100 in 2019 (read about that here) when the same thing happened in the same leg, and by 60 miles I couldn't lift my leg enough to even walk. But I knew the worst thing would be to dwell on that, so I kept telling myself "It'll be ok, it'll all be ok" and repeating Rev Bem's mantra:

My pain belongs to the Divine. It is like air, it is like water.

Passers by must have thought I was very odd, muttering to myself all the time, but I had to keep focussed on finishing the race. Paying attention to what was going wrong would spell disaster for sure. Anyway, pain is literally in the mind- distract the neurons and those pain messages won't reach the brain. 

Loop the fourth

I had more daylight than anticipated on this loop- I' made excellent progress so far and was feeling strong other than that nagging hip pain. Nutrition wasn't going quite so well as my usual not-being-able-to-face-eating-anything had started, but I had the Mountain Fuel drinks and I'd promised myself that if necessary I'd have a longer interloopal pause after 40 miles to eat some hot food if I needed to. Satay noodles should do the trick. 

Although I'd never done a dark loop in training, I wasn't too worried when the sun set and darkness fell. I wasn't even worried that I'd mostly been completely on my own, actually it was helpful not to feel pressured to keep up with another runner. Anyway, I knew I'd probably see a few people on the Box Hill Steps section where you come out halfway down, go down to the river, do a little loopback and then climb up all the way to the top. I really did enjoy that section, seeing people and exchanging a smile and encouraging words.

photo by Lenny Martin

As I headed up to the Box Hill trig I could see lights and hear the boom of music. Climbing to the road crossing there I could see cars, motorbikes and some guys standing around. A man had parked right across the gap for crossing the road and this unsettled me; he sat in his car staring at me. I was rattled enough to take the wrong line across Donkey Field not helped by the fact that the arrow with reflective markings on the far side had been stolen (missing markers became a theme overnight). I found myself at the edge of a carpark where a man was standing by his car, staring and waiting. By this point I was feeling scared- why were all these guys hanging around in the dark? Where the heck was the trail I was supposed to be on? I got out my phone and opened up OS maps to try to figure out how far off the trail I'd gone and eventually reoriented myself to get across the field and onto the hugely mis-named Happy Valley Trail. I arrived back at the main CP like a startled rabbit, saying I was too scared to go back out on my own.

Writing about this now it seems like a huge overreaction, but I'm not used to encountering that kind of thing when running in the dark. Given that some nasty things have happened to lone female runners in the recent past, perhaps it's not an unreasonable reaction. Anyway, Mike found a lovely guy called Danny to run with me for at least the next loop so I didn't get scared. As an aside, Canary Trail Events support SheRaces and endeavour to buddy up anyone who is nervous about running in the dark on their own. In fact I've volunteered to be a buddy for their Steeplechase event next summer.

Loop fifth

I felt a little awkward at first running with a complete stranger and was worried about being too slow. By this point I was beginning to experience waves of nausea and some knee pain too, and running for extended periods was not something my legs were happy about. Danny was quick running the downhills whereas my usual overly-cautious pace had now become something more akin to old lady tottering. I felt really bad that he had to stop and wait for me so many times. We got chatting as we ran through the woods before the Box Hill check point; that helped to take my mind off the bits of me that were starting to hurt a lot and it was oddly comforting to find that we had quite a few unusual things in common. 

Was it on this loop or loop 6 that my new headtorch failed after an hour? Either way it was another incident that reignited the fear that I was in for a repeat of my 2019 Autumn 100 experience. It took a great deal of strength to try to refocus my mind and not waste energy worrying about the past repeating itself. By now I knew the hip pain was here to stay but I fervently hoped that my knee wouldn't give up as it did at that race 3 years ago. Another disaster like that was simply not an option.

Anyway, the scary people at Box Hill had gone and Danny got me through loop 5 for which I am extremely grateful. I got back to the CP a bit quicker than the 50 miles I ran on the course back in July (mostly due to efficient turnarounds) so it was still very much game on. Maybe even a sub-30 hours finish.

Loops 6, 7 and 8

My pain belongs to the Divine. It is like air, it is like water. My pain belongs to the Divine. It is like air, it is like water. My pain belongs to the Divine...

The night is mostly a confusion of pain and rain, mud and fog, interspersed with waves of nausea and dizziness. Rain had set in once it was dark and it didn't really stop, just got a bit lighter or heavier turning parts of the trails into treacherous skating rinks of that special mud you get on top of chalk and flint. It was all I could do to stay on my feet in some places, and even if my hip and knee had been fine there would not have been much running going on. Fog had suddenly settled around Box Hill Village reducing visibility to just a metre or two. That initial stretch of the NDW after the checkpoint was awful- not only was it incredibly difficult to stay upright in the mud, but it was almost impossible to see the trail too. 

On one loop I missed a turn in the woods on the edge of Headley Heath and wasted time and energy retracing my steps and having a panic. It was stupid, I know the trail so well that I could tell I'd gone wrong just by how the ground felt under my feet, but I didn't stop to check until I'd gone maybe a quarter of a mile. It's odd what fatigue does to you- you make poor judgements and talk yourself out of things you know to be true.

On the subject of fatigue I think it was loop 7 or 8 when the hallucinations and sleep monsters struck. I've never had the sleep monsters before, or at least not so that I was falling asleep on my feet. I remember fighting the urge to lie down in the cold and wet on the trail and close my eyes- there was enough sense in me to realise that was the beginning of pre-hypothermia. I'd planned not to stop at the halfway checkpoint at all as it was only a water stop and it would waste precious minutes, but at this point I realised I was a danger to myself and knew I had to get into the warm and dry so that I could put on an extra layer and close my eyes for a few minutes. After getting too cold, hallucinating blue sea dragons at Lakes in a Day back in 2016 (?), and not being allowed to continue the race, I'm much more aware of what being cold and tired does to me and despite the pain and my inability to run by this stage, I was still determined to finish. In fact I never at any point thought about giving up, even when it all felt pointless. 

I did feel a bit better as I set off to complete the loop, but I was still hallucinating. Just hang on for the morning- seeing the light creep into the sky will help. It always does.

On loop 8 I remember seeing Drew Sheffield just before Box Hill Steps. He was looking so fresh and strong on his last loop. We had a conversation about how nasty parts of the North Downs Way had got, and how good it was to see the darkness lifting- it somehow makes you feel lighter- and then he was off. He went on the smash the course record with a sub-24 hour time!

Loops 9 and 10

the start of the last loop

Daylight brought no relief. 

By now all I knew was pain. My knee hurt so much and I could feel how inflamed all the tendons were; I had to go sideways down all the steps and descents in order to keep the pain vaguely bearable. It was miserably slow going. 

My pain belong to the Divine. It is like air, it is like water. My pain belongs to the Divine. It is like air, it is like water. My pain belongs to the Divine... Pain...

Yet even though I was consumed by the pain it never occurred to me to quit. There was no doubt in my mind- there was never any doubt. I had to keep going. I'd turned into a robot- a miserable one at that- and moving forward had become automatic, it was the only thing I was programmed to do.

The hallucinations were now relentless. There were faces and strange markings on every single stone, the mud was covered in writing that was half-familiar and it pulled my head down as I felt compelled to try to decipher it. I saw a huge yellow honey bear sitting on a fallen tree, and a 7 foot tall Pippi Longstocking with green legs. A grey-green Stormtrooper stared up at me from the ground and I recall thinking that was a much more sensible colour for a Stormtrooper than white. The woods were full of witches waving flags at me, and I saw lots of tiny, hooded hi-viz jackets hung on posts along the side of the trails.

Something on loop 9 that I know was real: on Headley Heath a huge dog bounded up to me and seized my left arm in its jaws. The dog's head was as high as my chest and I was terrified. The owner said the dog was fine, I should just stand still, but I was crying and trying to explain that I was in a race and had run over 80 miles. Probably I didn't make any sense. The situation left me with enough adrenaline that I was able to run for a few minutes to put some distance between me and Cerberus. I think that was the last bit of running I did.

It was either loop 9 or the last loop that I began to feel the faces in the stones closing in on me, my head was filled with the sight of them and their silent noise, and I think it was on the final loop that I stumbled through the gate leaving the heath crying, talking out loud, pleading with an invisible person to make the hallucinations stop. I can't explain how much this scared me- it was truly frightening to feel so invaded by the weirdness my brain was inventing. I was utterly overwhelmed, drowning in a sea of madness.

But the strangest thing of all throughout these last two loops, is that at no point did I feel elated knowing that I was actually going to finish. I had imagined that on loop 10 I would be filled with emotion, that heady mixture of joy and relief when you know you're going to achieve your goal and finish. I'd imagined feeling pride in finishing the most brutal race I'd ever run, satisfaction in getting it done in spite of having a truly horrible time of it. But I felt nothing. Perhaps the battle of having to deal with the physical and mental pain for so much of the race left me detached from myself. Perhaps it was simply fatigue from having run the furthest I'd ever run, and been running for longer than I'd ever run before. I don't know. But that numbness fills me even now, a week on from when the race began.

On loop 10 Mike met me at the top of Satan's; he'd been given permission to run me in to the finish. I don't remember any of that last stretch other than the pain in my knee. I walked across the finish line feeling utterly empty. No joy, no pride, not even any tears. It wasn't how I thought it would be. 

I felt nothing.

I don't know who took this photo

Alan, the RD, presented me with the trophy for second lady. He said he'd never doubted that I would finish. I think he was delighted that not only did the race see the first ever female finisher, it also saw the second AND the third! Out of the 32 runners who started the 100 mile race, just 7 people finished. And out of those 7 finishers, 3 were women. 

After receiving my trophy I just sat. I had nothing left. Barely the energy to drink a mug of tea. Is this what it's supposed to feel like? The biggest achievement of my life and all I can do is sit and feel nothing? Maybe that's what passing through the ten circles of Copthorne is supposed to feel like.

 

105 miles, 

6,616m of elevation

31 hours and 4 minutes

2nd female to finish the Copthorne 100

Countdown

No more training sessions. 

Kit sorted and boxed.

Race food bagged up and packed.

Pre-race hypochondria/ultramaranoia has begun- there's a lot of illness at work, including Covid, and my right leg feels weird despite a massage on Monday.

I'm trying not to look at the weather forecast as it keeps changing and there is so much variation between different weather services. In any case, weather is a variable I can't influence so there's no point worrying about it. If it stays wet then likely the Mole will stay flooded and there'll be a diversion with an extra little loop somewhere and although I want to run the course exactly as I know it, it might not work out that way on the day.

Up until this morning I was feeling fairly calm about it all. Now the butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach and I'm really jittery. But I've done all I could do in training and all that's left is to stay healthy and safe, and to eat and rest. The race is the victory lap- a celebration of all the hard work and sacrifices I've made this year to be in the best shape ever, a celebration of all the preparation and focus. 

I'm ready for this.

Race ready?

 

It's been a challenging 3 weeks since the last post. Training hasn't gone to (the adapted) plan, the heeby-jeebies have set in rather early, I'm losing weight and insomnia is back. It all feels overwhelming.

Last week the plan was to split my long run- 20 miles in the morning then another 10 on the course after dark. The morning run was really hard. It was wet underfoot so I was slipping around on the chalk and this made me anxious about falling and breaking bones. I also found it really hard to regulate my temperature- far too hot one minute, chilly the next. It was very uncomfortable with a waterproof on, but I got quite cold in damp clothes and didn't want to get wet through. Whilst I was out there I had a really strong feeling that I was on the wrong side of that very fine line of pushing hard with training and being over-cooked.

I headed to Mike's after the morning run and wasn't in a good way. I fell asleep on the sofa in the afternoon and when I woke up had a huge meltdown about going out on the night loop. My brain was screaming at me not to do it, and all my body wanted was to curl up on the sofa. The tears wouldn't stop. Knowing I was being irrational and freaking Mike out only made it worse. In the end I didn't go. But I felt so guilty, and worried about whether missing that run will come back to bite me on race day. Was I being stupid or were brain and body trying to protect me? I don't know, I can only accept the decision made at the time and leave it at that.

This week has been a bit better- I managed to fit in my last hill reps session as well as two strength workouts and this week has been a good one for vert. I even managed 2 loops of Wendover Woods by myself and only went properly wrong once! 

Wendover was beautiful. I was marshalling there yesterday at the Centurion Running 50 mile race and was back there in the early morning mist for my long run. It felt as though I was running with the ghosts of everyone who raced yesterday, following their footprints in the trails. The air still whispered with their voices and it was as though I was running with friends. 

Today's run felt good- for the first time in a while I smiled as I ran. At the end of it I knew I had many more miles in my legs. That's something to hold on to and keep close, ready for the race and ready to combat all the doubts that keep pouring into my head. 

It's now time to do my best to sleep enough, eat enough, stay healthy and keep my head in a good place. There's also the huge task of sorting out everything needed for the race weekend and packing it up, and working out head torch logistics- there will be an awful lot of dark and so I need to work out a rotation for head torches- one to wear, one spare, one charging- and make sure that each one gets adequately charged when not in use. That's the bit that worries me most, especially having had that disaster at A100 3 years ago. Oh, and I need to work out how to manage the HRT during the race. Usually I put the gel on my legs as it's a decent surface area but that's not going to be practical in a race as you can't put clothes over the top for at least 5 minutes. If the weather is mild enough I could try gel on my arms as that'd work with a short-sleeved top. I don't want to miss a dose though as sometimes I really do notice a skipped dose; I don't want to be dealing with extra hormone imbalance on top of the usual post-ultra mess!

So, although it's taper time there's plenty still to be doing and thinking about.

Stay calm, get sleep, eat, and trust in the training.

Keep on plodding

 After recent setbacks I'm doing my best to get back on track for the last few weeks of training. I ended up taking most of a week off work because of something that had happened; my attempts to go back like normal, to brush it off and just get on with things resulted in a real, physical reaction. High stress levels are definitely a trigger for worsening many of my menopausal symptoms (especially palpitations and GI stuff), so the last week has been quite a struggle one way or another. But despite all that I managed a fairly consistent week of training last week although neither of my structured runs went to plan. Ideally I'd like to stick to the plan of two structured speed/hills runs a week plus 1 easy and 2 long runs but if life and stuff are getting in the way I'll settle for consistency. Fretting about missing an intervals session or a decent set of hill reps is counter-productive; it won't undo everything that's come before but it will waste energy.            

Nutrition is proving tricky again. High stress really messes up my gut and at the moment it's not easy finding nutritious food my stomach will tolerate. I've lost around a kg and if I'm honest, although some of my clothes might look better on me for less weight, I need that kg for race reserves. I'm still playing around with race day food too. At the weekend I tried an apple and cinnamon Mountain Fuel gel but spat out the first mouthful as it really wasn't to my taste. So now, rather than throw any more money at gels, bars, chews or whatever, I'm going to get some very small freezer bags and make little portions of rice pudding 'gel'. Might not be quite as tidy to eat on the go as a gel, but I'm all out of ideas now. Hopefully I'll get to try this out at the weekend.

The one thing I haven't done that I really need to, is get out on the race loop in the dark. Realistically that will probably only happen once, and for one loop, but I just want to know that I can safely navigate it in the dark. The last couple of miles I've done as it's the last part of the Two Towers, but I'm a little apprehensive about several stretches earlier on. About 3 miles in there are several  turnings it could be easy to miss in the dark, and around 6 or 7 miles in there's a stretch where the trail itself isn't clear and even in daylight I've found myself wandering off course slightly. It's funny, in a race situation being on my own in the dark doesn't worry me but I do get fretful if it's on a training run and I worry if I 'ought' to be out in the dark 'just' for a training run. 

What else? Nothing much. I don't do or achieve anything spectacular or out of the ordinary, just plod along trying to make the best of things. I've found keeping up the training and trying to focus on eating well hard work this year, and I'm mindful of the countless sacrifices made along the way to this race. Not just sacrifices where I've got up and trained even though I wanted to stay in bed, or not had biscuits when I really wanted some, but all the times training has impacted on my family. I feel guilty putting a race above everything else. It's been hard, really hard and once this is done I need a long break.

For now though, it's onwards and upwards. Keep plodding.

Mike refusing to be defeated by Satan's staircase

Setbacks

 Despite taking some time to recover after Two Towers, it's been hard to get back to training again. It could be that the race took more out of me than I realised at the time; it could be the change in seasons as I find the extra hours of dark make me feel more tired and less inclined to want to do anything other than eat biscuits; it could be because of work (which has been awful). It could also be because of a few weekends that have been all out of the usual routine. But whatever the reason, I'm just not where I need to be in terms of training or in my mental state and I don't know what to do.

This weekend I've tried to salvage a far from ideal training week by getting out for 2 long runs. These days unless I'm doing a double Copthorne I don't often run more than 10-12 miles in one go in training because I just get so tired and not enough time to recover, but I managed almost 17 miles yesterday and 14 today with around 1100m of up. Probably I should have gone somewhere to get more hill work, but I couldn't face getting in the car; next weekend I'll find some bigger hills.

It's only 6 weeks until race day- what felt so far away is now almost here-  so for the next 4 weeks I really need to push on, keep up the strength and speed work, and keep hiking up hills. I also need to sit and plan race day nutrition- although I've been working hard to pay attention to my daily diet, I've not spent enough time thinking about what I need to be eating during the race. After Two Towers I knew I'd have to find some alternative ways of getting calories in, in case of not being able to face actually eating. Since then I've tried some of the Mountain Fuel energy powder and, after a bit of experimenting, seem to have found a way to make that work for me. It's expensive, and I'm avoiding thinking about how much I've spent on getting ready for this race, but I guess all the money I've not spent on wine over the last 10 months has contributed to race kit and nutrition.

 I think I've said before that this is the first time I've approached a race with a really clear, competitive goal. This scares me quite a bit and I worry that I'm not treating the race with enough respect. Who am I to think I can finish this race? Plenty of far more accomplished runners have failed to cross the finish line so why should I be any different? On the other hand, there's no point in starting the race if I don't believe there's a chance of finishing. It's time to regain focus somehow and let race day bring what it brings.

Recovery and onwards

 It's already two weeks since Two Towers and getting back into training has been hard. For once I really did take a proper post-race recovery week because although my legs felt absolutely fine, I knew underneath that my mind and body would still be fatigued. Lack of sleep has been the biggest problem because there's just been no opportunity to try to catch up. Work is intense and full-on as ever, and last weekend I was volunteering at Centurion Running's Chiltern Wonderland so although that stopped me from going out on a long training run (which was a good thing), it was still a long day on my feet. It was fun and I got to work with a great team, but it did leave me very tired. 

This week has been the first week of my last training block before Copthorne. It's not quite gone to plan as I've still felt very tired and it feels like I'm fighting off the first lurgy of the school term. There are various lurgies doing the rounds and I'm doing my best to stay healthy- I really can't afford to get ill at this point. So far this week I've managed both my planned strength sessions but the running hasn't quite gone to plan because of being tired and giving myself a bit of a hamstring niggle during my intervals session on Tuesday. However, today I managed to turn what would have felt like a pointless plod into something more constructive: while the car was being serviced I ran 5 miles to find a hill then did 10 reps to get about 300m ascent in about 3 miles. The 5 mile return journey felt very hard though!

At this point the training is beginning to feel like a bind; most days the alarm starts glowing around 4.40am (daylight alarm clock) and I just want to stay under the blankets. But I have to keep reminding myself that it's just seven more weeks of hard training then I can taper, and then we'll see if almost 11 months of hard slog will pay off. The race is the 'victory lap'- the celebration of all the hard work put in just to get to the start line. 

Nutrition is not going so well. I'm trying to make good food choices but tiredness and busyness have meant some days I just haven't bothered with dinner- right now there are too many cheese sandwiches or cheese toasties in my life. It's easy to berate myself for not doing and eating all the right things, but I'm trying not to. There's only so much I can do; eating something is better than eating nothing and I guess I could do a lot worse than a cheese sandwich.

In terms of race food I've splashed out on some nut butter sachets. The one I tried today was lovely although a bit messy to eat as you squeeze out the last bits of it, and the cold meant some of it was set quite hard so difficult to get out of the sachet. For the first time I'm contemplating trying a carbohydrate drink. In principle I'm not a fan of liquid calories, but given the difficulty I've had trying to get actual food down I think it's sensible to try this approach. I've had Tailwind in the past but didn't like it much, so need to investigate other options. 

The heart stuff that was beginning to bother me about a year ago has resurfaced. This time I know it's basically hormone-related and exacerbated by tiredness and stress, but I wish it would go away. Looking at myself in the mirror today I saw how events a year ago have left visible marks- the wrinkles are now so many and so deep. Acknowledging the damage is painful but it's the only way I can grow. And I have to keep growing because there's still so much life and love and light to reach out for.

A post-script

 I left something out of my post about the Two Towers race as I'd promised to write about the race for Allan and one thing wasn't really relevant to a race report but is very much part of my journey both in running and life.

Almost 6 months ago I wrote a post about beginning to feel better about running and life again. Not only did I make new friends on that hike and start to feel some love for running the trails again, but it was the beginning of finding some love in my life. In August I mentioned that there's been a lot of change, and one of those changes is Mike. 

 Mike and I have known each other for years- tiny phone friends who a couple of times have coincided at races. In fact, we ran a fair chunk of our first 100 miler together at the 2018 edition of the Autumn 100 (read about that here). Logistically things are not straightforward but the faith and the commitment are, and that's all that matters. I never thought I'd be in this situation again and was entirely focussing on training for the Copthorne later this year as a kind of substitute for a meaningful relationship. In previous posts I've written that I've felt overwhelmed with the grief and hurt of events last year and that at times keeping my head above water has felt too much. Now it feels as though I have an anchor. 

It means so much to know he'll be there at the Copthorne- that race is going to ask more of me than anything I've ever done and I'm not ashamed to say I will need Mike's support to help me through. We make a good team and I think the future is full of many miles and smiles.

Racing again- the Two Towers 50km night race

 After a gap of almost a year I did a race. I thought I'd forgotten how to do this ultra-running stuff and spent at least the week prior to the race stressing, worrying, not sleeping and not eating but it turns out I hadn't forgotten at all...

The Two Towers 50k is a new race put on by Canary Trail Events and is a 50km loop around Surrey taking in a few classics such as Leith Hill, and the Box Hill stepping stones and steps. It's over mixed terrain- there's pretty much a bit of everything to run on- some of it extremely runnable, a few bits not so much and you really had better enjoy climbing up steps!

Registration at Mickleham village hall was well organised and efficient with the volunteers checking that everyone had the mandatory kit. Unlike some races, the compulsory kit is pretty basic but you must carry a canary at all times. Being an avid knitter of small creatures and random stuff I was able to make my own and I had it attached to my pack weeks ahead of the race as I was so paranoid about forgetting or losing it!

The last of the light had almost gone when the race started and straight away you're under tree cover so headtorches were on from the beginning. You're also going uphill from the start which, if you try to take it too quick, will come back and bite you later! Having said that, I spent the first maybe half of the race going rather quicker than I'd intended. It was so long since I'd run at night that I was really worried about getting lost and I tried desperately hard to keep up with the group of guys in front. I had the gpx on my watch but somehow it hadn't loaded so after about 1.5 miles I had to stop and restart my watch. That really rattled me and I think I allowed it to take too much mental energy. The route was marked, but as I ran along it was apparent that people had taken down signs and there were a few places where it really wasn't clear which turning to take. Having a gpx isn't quite as straightforward as all that- often it can be a bit behind where you actually are and tree cover can also make the signal somewhat approximate- but it definitely helped and a couple of times it saved me and others from heading in the wrong direction.

It's hard to recall details of the route- pretty much everything was unfamiliar to me- but although there was a decent bit of up and some gnarly bits, plenty was quite runnable. Allan, the RD, has a knack of making routes that mess with your head and I found a few stretches where I just lost all sense of direction and a twisting, turning trail seemingly going on for ever without actually getting me anywhere! The climb to Leith Hill was not fun if you're familiar with the area because apparently we were very close to the tower at the top but instead of taking the usual trail, the route sends you down a gully before you then get to climb back up. That didn't bother me really as I had no idea where I was in relation to anywhere, but it did seem to upset a few other runners!

A lot of the race was a low point. Because I'd gone off too quick my heart rate was higher than it should have been which meant fairly soon I was feeling sick and struggling to eat. The checkpoints were great and the volunteers working at them were equally great, but other than one piece of water melon and a few crisps I don't think I took anything from any of them. Maybe a bit of Coke at one. Perhaps if there'd been more savoury snacks on offer I might have managed to eat a little more but, despite coaxing from the volunteers, I just couldn't face eating. Nutrition is clearly something I still need to work on and it's certainly not the fault of the checkpoints that I didn't fuel properly. 

** An aside to any perimenopausal runners reading this- I'm finding that I feel I need to wee more on long runs but often don't manage to, and also feeling quite uncomfortable like I'm about to get a urine infection. And I spent a fair bit of the race feeling like this. I think that's a hormonal thing and although I've been on HRT for a while now it definitely makes a race more difficult. Partly because of the feeling uncomfortable but also the worrying about trying to find a place to have a wee takes up energy. I've no idea what the solution is (although I should probably drink way more than I do) but just thought I'd mention it. **

The best part was the last 4ish miles as I was on familiar trails then. The mist that had appeared from time to time throughout the race didn't bother me at this point as at least now I knew where I was going. Earlier on there were some thick patches of mist and fog making it hard to see the trail and spot the markers and turnings. I'm not super-excited about the Box Hill stepping stones as every time I cross them I'm scared of falling in, but it was such a relief to reach them this time. However I nearly did fall in when I saw someone filming us crossing the stones! 

After the stepping stones it was the famous Box Hill steps (which have recently been repaired). It's still a long way to the very top but the steps are now in much better condition so the climb to the view point is relatively smooth and easy. Even though it was dark, I did briefly stop and look out from the trig point but I could smell the barn and just wanted to get the race done. It felt like forever running along the Happy Valley trail to the second tower; it's always a bit further than I remember and in the dark it felt like miles. After that it's some downhill, some steps down and then the sting in the tail- Satan's Staircase. It sounds like bragging, but I quite like Satan's. Yes it's tough, especially coming at the end when your legs are tired, but it's so close the finish that for me it only has positive associations and that really helps me through this section. Legs and lungs still burn a bit at the top but as long as you safely negotiate the Goodnight Sweetheart descent then it's all done and dusted.

Goodnight Sweetheart is a bit of a nasty descent especially if you're rubbish at downhill like me, as it's rooty, steeper than it appears, and can be quite slippery. But I've run it enough times now so I know where the worst bits are (mind the barbed wire at ground level on the left) and just descend gingerly then run like heck to the finish. Oh, and don't forget the stile about 1/4 mile from the end!

I crossed the finish line back at Mickleham around 3am with nothing left. Allan was waiting at the finish and I greeted him with the words "You! You're a very bad man!". I went into the hall and had the biggest hug from the Volunteer Coordinator, Mike (who did a fantastic job of organising everyone and finding last minute help). He'd been worried about me the whole race because my tracker hadn't worked so there'd been no record of me passing any of the timing points or going through the check points. Mike pretty much had to carry me to a chair because as soon as I stopped running I felt so sick and dizzy and my legs went to jelly. A volunteer brought tea and then Allan gave me my medal.

Medal from Allan

"Now you know you came 3rd you're a lot happier with the race!"

It was at that point I discovered I was 3rd lady (and fastest old lady!). No trophy or anything for 3rd place but I was fine with that. I hadn't had a good race, I'd been pretty miserable for large parts of it, but it was the race I needed to have.

There's a brilliant video of the race on the Canary Trail Events Facebook page so do take a look. And do read about the incredible Eros and his guide Sarah who completed the race. If that doesn't inspire you I've no idea what will! For any women reading this who are nervous about night running or ultra running check out this page on the CTE website. 

Trying to sum up the race to friends I wrote:

"Super fun race. You need to enter, and it's loads cheaper than many other ultras out there. Plus there's steps. And stepping stones. And some up. And towers. And a load of owls."

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles I go before I sleep.

Growing pains

 Since April I have sat down and tried to write another blog post so many times but could never quite figure out what I wanted to say or get the words right. Hopefully this time it will work out.

Since last writing there has been a lot of change. Some of these changes have been incredibly difficult to live with and I feel as though I've been in a state of flight-or-fight for so long. Some changes are those that come as your children become adults and are a mixture of relief, pride, and sorrow. This summer we've had A-levels and GCSEs in our house and it's not been an easy time. Nevertheless both teens survived, did the best they could and are settling in to new challenges. Work challenges are not something I write about here- suffice to say last term in particular was difficult and the coming year is not going to be an easy one either as enormous changes are happening as the school grows. My priority is not to become exhausted by it all.

Running has remained a challenge despite finishing the Centurion virtual slam. I had a really good block of training through to July which was supposed to culminate in a 24 hour race- the Copthorne Canter run by Canary Trail Events. Unfortunately the event was cancelled as the National Trust hadn't finished repair work to some trails in time, but as I'd worked so hard I decided to run it anyway.  I'd planned on running a maximum of 100km for the Canter as I didn't want to leave myself needing too much recovery, but as there was no race I figured 50 miles around the Surrey Hills would be decent and give me a good idea of where I was at in terms of fitness.

My 'I don't think I'm having fun' face

It was tough running loop after loop on my own but I was fortunate to have some support at my 'checkpoint' and, later on, access to cups of tea! It was mostly pretty good although I never quite felt properly settled in. Towards the end of the fourth loop I almost took a fall on the last downhill when I caught one foot then the other on big chunks of flint. I'm not sure how I managed to land on my feet rather than my face and it really rattled me. Luckily I had someone to pace me for the last 10 miles and that made a big difference, although around 45 miles I had a typical ultra-meltdown and stood in Boxhill sobbing because it hurt so much and I was so tired and didn't want to run any more. However, the last ascent of Satan's Staircase wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be, and apparently I practically flew into the village hall on the last quarter mile so I think there really is something to be said for the restorative properties of a power sob! In the end I completed 51 miles with 3,108m ascent in just under 13.5 hours.

All races should have cheese, grapes and pineapple on sticks at the finish

Since that little outing it's been really hard to get back into regular decent training. Over the summer break I've been extremely tired, back to a lot of pain first thing in the morning, and dealing with bouts of nausea and dizziness. The brain demons have been getting very noisy too and I know that trying to deal with them has taken so much energy and eaten away at times where I should have been content and relaxed. Any of these things could be down to hormonal stuff, but could also be because I've had so little time to myself and I'm just fatigued at a very deep level. Whatever it is, I need to keep going and do my best to stay strong and healthy.

What's next?

A night race in a couple of weeks time and then at the end of November it's the race this whole year is about- the Copthorne Races. Specifically the Copthorne 100. There hasn't been a female finisher...

...Yet.

Not the Copthorne Canter completed with help from Michele, Bailey, Fiona and especially from Mike. Cheese and pineapple provided by Ivor and Cara. Thank you all.

Finished!

 

And it's done at last. 600 miles completed with 5 days to spare. There were times when I really didn't think I'd complete the challenge, but the bloody-minded streak in me wouldn't let me quit. 

Mostly it wasn't much fun- there was a lot of going out in the dark to plod out 4 or 5 more miles, trying to keep things ticking over and my mind full of unhappy thoughts. A few times I've run and felt really strong. And a couple of times I've not had to run alone which was really lovely. 

What has this experience taught me? Well, running a higher mileage isn't sustainable for me any more. The last time I was regularly running +40 miles a week I was working part-time, I wasn't having to make regular trips to Devon and I wasn't having heart issues. Trying to keep up with the miles on top of a full-time job, the teens, my parents, all the difficulties that the last months have thrown my way, has been exhausting. In the end I had to let strength work go because I'd got to the point where I was too tired to train twice a day; neither my mind nor my body wanted anything to do with it. I had to neglect the creative side of me too because in the evenings I was too tired to concentrate on making things. On the other hand, it's let me see that I am mentally tough enough. There were plenty of days when I hated running, when I really didn't want to put on my shoes and leave the house, when I so desperately wanted to quit. But in spite of it all I kept going.

So if higher mileage training isn't sustainable I do need a new way of approaching things. I think I have a plan in mind, but I'm going to talk it through with a fitness coach. For ordinary everyday fitness, running much less and doing more strength is just fine. Whether it's the right thing to do for what I want to achieve I'm not sure. Watch this space...

Anyway, I'm really looking forward to taking the rest of the week off. No running, probably no training of any kind. I want to make some things, sort out the garden a bit, sleep, eat, make the most of not being at work. Next week I'll start some strength training again and, I hope, get to see a friend or two. 

Today it feels like there is light somewhere along my path

Learning to Smile

 It's been longer than intended between posts. I've tried writing a few times but nothing came out right and to be quite honest I've not really had much to say. It's been so very busy and I've been so tired that there was nothing particularly interesting to write about, just the daily grind of work, family, chores, and the plods.

But this weekend has been awesome! Tiring, but really it's been the best weekend in ages and ages. I went Out, drove somewhere new, coped with driving on the M25, and met Other People. I went up a lot of hills and also went down a few steep hills.  And it made me happy.

I might have mentioned that I have a challenge much later in the year; yesterday I went out to see whether I might have it in me to attempt this challenge. Luckily for me I had lovely company including  a great guide, and the most beautiful weather. On the day the weather will probably not be lovely and there might not be much company, but yesterday was at least a start in the right direction. Anyway, given that my legs feel super-strong today even after 24 miles with 1500m climb yesterday plus a quick-ish 10 miles this morning, I think I might just have it in me to make a decent attempt at my plans. 

It's been a long time since I just went out, lost all sense of time, and was completely absorbed in every moment of being outside. But yesterday was exactly that. I hiked, smiled, laughed, and talked with other people without feeling judged or inadequate. And I didn't feel inadequate with my hiking either. I did feel a little uncomfortable being bigged up with the suggestions that I would 'beast' this challenge- it feels like too much pressure and I know that so much could go wrong on the day- but on the other hand I feel strong and up for anything. I'm scared to be confident, but I know I must carry confidence with me otherwise there's no point in continuing. They say of the Barkley Marathons that you have to believe you can finish...

It wasn't my favourite terrain- I like undulating woods and fields best- but I know I climb steep hills well and that's in my favour. I genuinely enjoy a gnarly uphill. Downhill scares the willies out of me, but I just have to practise and practise and improve everything else so that time lost on descents doesn't matter. I have to get comfortable with feeling uncomfortable. I'm out of my comfort zone all the time at work so really I should be able to do that with running.

The voice inside that is crying out to live and to do is getting stronger. I can't undo the wrinkles, white hair and scars of the past, but I can allow this voice to be heard and, where I can, give it free rein. I'm no longer young but there is so much living and running I want to do.

Furry cow

Smiles all round

Nope, I didn't park either of those cars

A grand day out

Plodding along

30 days 185.9 out of 600 miles 

It's 30 days into the Centurion Running virtual slam now. I'm still on target but it's been hard going. Work is very tiring at the moment, partly because of the fear of getting Covid, but there's a lot of other things going on which leave me feeling wiped out most days. It's busy being the teens' taxi driver too- they are both involved in their school's show so I've been driving them to and from rehearsals on top of the usual after school stuff.

A lot of my running has been squeezing in 4 miles here and there either in between the early morning chores before work, or after work before driving to get the teens from school. It's kept the miles ticking over but it's not really how I want to be running. It's begun to feel like a chore and in order to keep on target I've had to drop my strength work and CrossFit to a minimum. This is not something my body is best pleased with. However, the initial deep fatigue I felt with running more often has subsided and my 'easy' pace is now quicker, so there have been some fitness gains.

The lower leg issues continue to grumble. I haven't been able to unpick what's going on- there's some swelling, reduced range of motion plus some nerve impingement but it seems to be more or less manageable at the moment. I'd rather not have anything to manage and I don't know if this problem will ever properly go away, but all I can do is focus on running with good form, doing what I can to keep a decent ROM in my ankle and remember to do self-massage on my lower leg.

I will keep up with the mileage target for as long as it's compatible with staying healthy, but so far running regularly hasn't rekindled my love for it and I wonder if I ever will truly find joy in it again. 

Hitting the ground running

The Centurion Running One Slam has begun. I signed up for the 600 miles option back in October when I had a moment of feeling optimistic about running. By December I was regretting it but I've decided to give it a go and see how far I get. So far I've run 23 miles- more than I've run in a weekend for months! Although today is a bank holiday, I'm taking it as a complete rest day as I mustn't get over-enthusiastic and break myself doing too much too soon. 

I've been running to heart rate for the last week and I think it's already paying off. Twenty three miles in a weekend wouldn't have been manageable without pain and fatigue, I think, if I'd run faster, and both days there were moments when the running flowed and my body felt free. When it feels good like that it's so tempting to push on and do more, but I've learned that lesson the hard way. 

How easy it's going to be to fit in enough miles once term starts I don't know. I'm genuinely scared about being in an environment where very little will or can be done to keep everyone safe and healthy- and four evenings a week I'll be on taxi duty for the teens. I guess it'll have to be squeezing in 2 or 3 miles here and there in between everything else. If I'm lucky I get 20 minutes for lunch so a middle of the day run isn't an option. Let's not think about how tricky it'll get if the weather turns cold enough for heavy frosts or snow!

Anyway, today I will do my best to rest. There's chores to get done before being back at work but I will endeavour not to attempt too much. And we had our first Odd Box overnight so I need to do a bit of searching of recipes and creative cooking in order the make the most of the contents. It did make me eat a tangerine- there were quite a few in the selection and they're not so easy to put in recipes- so that's good. Getting better at eating a wider variety of fruit and veg is going to be an important part of completing through the Slam and staying healthy at work!