A return to the routine. That is all I am looking for from my running in the next few weeks. Simple stuff. No fuss. No pressure. Running with pals. What could be better?
While I have recovered well from my ultra three weeks ago and feel no ill effects from the race, I am very conscious that I have given my body a bit of a battering since the start of the year, and as I am not getting any younger, I need to just give myself a bit of a break. As an older runner, I know that I cannot continually push my body and go from event to event to event without taking some time out for some recuperation. But this does not mean not running, it just means recalibrating what I am doing.
“the feeling of being a bit lost”
The weeks after a big event can definitely feel like a bit of an anti-climax. The major challenge is over and the target you have been working towards for weeks or months is now gone, so what next? This can lead to post-race blues, and the feeling of being a bit lost, particularly if you have been religiously following a training plan with clear goals, expectation and a huge amount of discipline and routine. With nothing like that to keep you honest and no race to keep you motivated, it can be easy to get a bit lost, lack focus and just drift.
There have been moments after major events where I have gone out and thought, “what is the point of this?”, especially on a cold, dark or wet night but there is an easy answer to that, and it is that running provides me with so many physical and mental benefits. Yes, there are the rewards in the form of medals or t-shirts or whatever, and these are hugely important to me, but it is the sense that I am doing something that, twenty years down the line, will still be giving me something back.
Talking of medals, however, this week a memory popped up on Facebook of my medal collection from five years ago, shortly after I had completed my second marathon. This was the picture.
My medal collection in 2019
Now I was very proud, and rightly so, of my medal collection in 2019, after all I had run two marathons plus a handful of other races and distance challenges. That was what prompted me to get a medal hanger so I could display them easily and have something to look back on, rather than having them hidden in a drawer. They are displayed in my home office. But since then, things have escalated slightly, as this is what my medal collection looks like now.
Things have changed a bit since 2019
I do not want to seem smug by posting this, as in, “hey look at me and all the medals I have got.” That is not what I mean by this at all. What this represents is balanced effort and motivation, and that is why I am showing it. It shows what you can achieve if you bring the right balance between racing and running. I would not have all of these if all I did was go from race to race (though I recognise it might look like this is what I have done!).
After every race, where I may have gone through that down cycle where I think “what is the point?”, I have always found the point again. And that has been through taking it easy for a bit, enjoying social running, getting back to coaching with my local jogscotland group and remembering those benefits which I outlined earlier. It is certainly not about beasting yourself to set a PB every time you go out and run, it is about finding balance in your running to maintain an equilibrium and balance.
“push myself on a short run”
For me, that means getting back to running maybe four times a week. A couple of times with jogscotland, and then a couple of runs over the course of the weekend. This could be with friends or it could be on my own, depending on how things work out. Last weekend, I ran once with friends, and then on the other day on my own and on that day, I tried to push myself on a 10k run, really for the first time in months. In fact, probably the last time I really pushed on a run was one of the races I did in the summer.
My quick run finished at the beach on a blustery morning
I have mentioned before that I would like to work a bit on injecting a bit of pace into my running again, having focused so much in recent months on endurance, so this was a way of testing this out. It was very hard, on quite windy day on a route that took me around Aberdeen beach, and there is no way I could have run at this pace if I was with someone else and attempting to have any kind of conversation, but I kind of guess that was the point. Someone far cleverer than me once said that to run far, run with friends and to run fast, run on your own. That is certainly how it works out for me.
But again it is about balance, so while that run gave me a great deal of satisfaction, there is much more pleasure in running with friends, enjoying (at last) a bit of decent Scottish spring weather and the scenery around the rivers and parks close to where I live, and just finding the joy in that. And if life is about nothing else, then at least it should be about that, enjoying ourselves. We are not here for a long time, we should at least devote some of our energy into making sure that we have a good time along the way.
With my friends Maxine, Susan and Cara
And if that is normal. If that is what regular running looks and feels like. If that is the way to spend quality time, then why not prioritise that? Racing is great – I love a race day and everything that goes with it – but it is not everything. So this is why giving myself a bit of a break from the big stuff, focusing on a bit of pace for a change, but most importantly just enjoying myself with my pals, and some normality, that is what the next few weeks of running looks like to me. And that is more than enough.
One question from friends which has popped up quite a bit in the wake of running the D33 ultramarathon a couple of weeks ago was this. “Being out there on your own for so long, was it not just really lonely?”. It’s an interesting question, which I am going to try to answer because I think it goes to the heart of long distance running.
I once read the book, “What I talk about, when I talk about running,” by Haruki Murakami, where he recounts his experiences of not just running marathons, but also other endurance events. It is a good read (if you like that sort of thing) and it provided an interesting perspective. For me, this is not so much “What I talk about, when I talk about running”, but more, “what I think about when I am running”. Let me explain.
On my own on the D33 course
The first thing to say is that I think there is a big difference between being lonely and being on your own – for me these are not the same thing. I am more likely to feel lonely if I am on a business trip and in a conference room of people who all seem to know each other and I am wandering about like some kind of lost lemon. That experience of maybe being on your own in busy bar or restaurant, so you are somewhere where there are lots of people, but no one that you know. That is something which is likely to make me feel lonely.
“be kinder and less critical of ourselves”
But that is not the same as being on your own. I lived on my own for around six years before getting married, so I am quite comfortable with my own company. I have written before about the fact that the person you are most likely to spend most time talking to in your life is yourself – so we should be kinder and less critical of ourselves, as we spend a long time in our own head (a lifetime in fact).
So loneliness and being alone are, to me, not the same thing. So the prospect of running on my own for long periods of time is not something that phases me. When I started running – and long before I joined jogscotland – running on my own was what I did ALL the time, and I cannot say I ever felt lonely when doing it.
So now that we have established that, what about the ultra, where for the best part of six hours – apart from a few spells of chatting to people – I was running by myself? Yes I could see people ahead of me for most of it – but not all of it – but this was not like a social Saturday run with pals where you are chatting your way through it. Probably for about eighty percent of the run I was in my own head. So what do I think about when I am running?
On the course, with my own thoughts
The obvious thing to think about is “how am I feeling?”. But that does get a bit boring after a while and if all you are doing is thinking about how you are feeling then there is a real risk that you will begin to think about how tough this is, how bad your legs feel, how heavy your thighs are and so on. So for the most part, I try not to think about that too much – even when I think I feel quite good, part of me is also thinking, “well, yeah, but this is not going to last”.
One thing I do try and do is to deploy distraction techniques, where I at least make an attempt to think about specific things for a while and by doing that the miles just tick by without really concentrating too hard. Now this could be thinking about something related to work, or it could be about thinking of a topic to write about for the blog, or a favourite holiday destination or it could be about looking at a place in the distance and trying to work out where that is. Whatever it is, it is about thinking about something really not related to what I am going through at that moment.
“singing… is a deliberate technique”
And then we move to the, how should I put it, more peculiar things I do. Something I do, quite commonly, is sing in my head. This comes after the counting I do in my head when I start running in an attempt to get into some kind of rather and ignore my Darth Vader-esque asthmatic breathing rhythm. The singing in my head is not by chance, however, it is a deliberate technique.
I used to listen to music when I first started running but now much prefer not to run with headphones in – in fact I cannot recall the last time I did – and be aware of my surroundings. But music is important to me, so in the days building up to the race, when I was working from home, I would play some specific, positive songs, to boost my mindset. This kind of thing is very particular, so the songs or music I like will not be the same as the songs or music anyone else likes, but the technique is the same. Listen to songs that mean something to you, that inspire you, that give you confidence and belief.
There are many which I listen to but I will give two specific examples of songs I listened to in the build up to the ultra and the lyrics of which I sang to myself during the actual race.
“Well, I know what’s right I got just one life In a world that keeps on pushin’ me around But I’ll stand my ground And I won’t back down”
Tom Petty
So for me, there was just no way in my race that I was going to back down. I had been through too much in the training for it. Just listening to that song makes me feel so determined to push on when things get tough.
Another example – and hey, this is an eclectic music mix – was the song “Unstoppable” by Sia. It features these lyrics.
I put my armor on, show you how strong I am. I put my armor on, to show you that I am
I’m unstoppable I’m a Porsche with no brakes I’m invincible Yeah, I win every single game I’m so powerful I don’t need batteries to play I’m so confident Yeah, I’m unstoppable today
Sia
I have vivid memories of reciting this to myself when I was struggling in the Rotterdam Marathon last year, and so again during the Ultra, this was rolling around my head through those final few miles when things were so tough.
“I am reinforcing all of the belief”
By telling myself I am unstoppable, by telling myself I won’t back down, by reminding myself I’m so powerful, by urging myself that I know what’s right, I am reinforcing all of the belief which my friends had in me being able to complete the race. At a time when I could be the loneliest I have ever been, I am not thinking about being alone, about poor me struggling to run a race, I am thinking about how all of this is getting me to the end. There are lots of other songs I could quote and could use. Find one that speaks to you.
Another technique is to find a mantra, something to say to yourself over and over during the race. Or write something positive on your arm that you can look at to remind yourself of why you are there in the first place. The name of a friend you lost for whom you are doing the race to fundraise for charity. A motivational quote. Something, anything, that will help in that particular moment.
If this sounds all very grand, I also want to tell you that there are times when I am also swearing and cursing – at the wind, at the hills, at the pouring rain and lots of other things – so please do not feel it is all sweetness and light and lovely jolly tunes which are getting me through this, there is one hell of a lot of hard work and effort too.
“nice social runs with friends”
Away from the race, my recovery has continued to go well. I did run a bit of my own this week as I had a business trip to Munich, but I combined that with some nice social runs with friends too in Aberdeen. While a lot of what I have written here may give the impression of being a bit of a loner, I do love running with friends and it has been great to be back out with them having taken the week off after the race.
For now, it is about trying to bring a bit more regularity and normality back to my running after the first few months of the year solely focused on the D33. I signed up to a 10k at the end of May and am beginning to look at other events too. Nothing too serious, nothing which is going to take a massive training load, just something to focus on and to give me my next target to aim for, and maybe during that race I will find myself in a hard moment.
But if I can take yourself out of the moment, to find something to focus on, to locate that bit of inspiration or motivation to get me past the trough of that time, then I can move on and get to that finish line. I won’t back down, and I will find that I am unstoppable today. And any other day as well.
I cannot force my legs to run any more. I only have a few hundred metres to go of the D33 ultramarathon but after thirty three miles everything seems so far. I look around the Duthie Park in Aberdeen. I cannot see the finish line. I am walking. I feel like every step is a mile. I look ahead, still so far to go. Another runner overtakes me. Then I see the sign for the route to follow. I pick up into a jog. A woman in the park sees me and says, “well done”. The route turns right, off the path and onto the grass in the centre of the park. I can see the finish line. I think to myself, “Oh my god, I am actually going to do this. I am really going to finish.” Waves of emotion pulse through me. Relief. Ecstasy. Joy. Disbelief. I am on the brink of tears. I see my wife and friends beyond the line. I raise my hands. I punch the air. With one final effort I roar out “Get in”. I am across the line. I have done it. I am an ultra marathon finisher.
The joy of crossing the line
I feel like everything is draining out of me. All of the effort. All of the struggles through training. All of the doubts. All of the times when I was coughing my guts up but still ran. All of the early mornings, getting up in the dark to get out and train, forcing down big bowls of porridge to give me the energy to run. All of the long runs which felt so hard. All of the times when my friends met me for the final few miles of my long runs to get me to my distance goal. All of the runs in the rain, the cold, the wind. The runs with jogscotland. Every single one. Every single inch I have covered. I have poured everything I had into this. And I have done it. I feel like I might collapse.
The reality of the finish line
But I do not collapse. My wife and friends are there to meet me. The joy kicks back in. It really dawns on me that I am an ultramarathon runner. This is crazy. This is bonkers. Me. Running an ultra. Not just doing 50k, but doing more than that. The thirty three point six miles of the D33 is more than 53k. I can barely comprehend it. But that is the reality of what I have achieved. More than six hours of running and it is done. My wife takes out the medal from the goodie bag which one of the organisers has given me. I put it on. For the rest of my days, I can say I finished an ultramarathon.
So happy and such a great medal
More than seven hours previously, after having a major breakfast of two bowls of porridge (I really do not like porridge), two slices of brown toast, a large glass of orange juice and a rowie (look it up). I get in the car and my wife drives me over to the hotel where registration for the race takes place. I am a ball of nerves. Anxious and excited at the same time. I know I have run six marathons before. I know I have run a marathon in training. But am I really up for this test?
“Running an ultra is not like running a marathon”
I get my number. I drop off my food bags for the halfway point and the three quarter stage. I am carrying three gels, an energy bar and a litre of electorlyte drinks in my bottles. These will be enough to get me halfway. In my bag for halfway I have more gels, a sausage roll, a fruit scone, and powder to refill my drinks. For three quarters, much the same, but this time with the addition of a packet of smoky bacon crisps. Running an ultra is not like running a marathon. It is a different mindset and the fueling is different too.
My kit gets checked – because of the distance, every runner has to have full waterproofs, hat, gloves, foil blanket in case of emergencies and take it with them in a running rucksack – and I meet up with my friend Susan, who is also running the event. We had spoken beforehand about potentially running together but Susan is a faster runner than me, so we had agreed each of us would run our own race. With about half an hour to go to the start, we get asked to head over to the start line for the pre-race briefing. I eat the porridge bar I have in my pocket and sip my drinks as we stand, bracing against the easterly breeze.
With Susan at the start
It is a chilly morning but dry. It is overcast with drizzle forecast but given it is early March in the North East of Scotland, these are good conditions in which to run, particularly when you are going to be out in it for a very long time. The only issue is the wind, blowing straight off the North Sea. This is going to be in our face for the entirety of the second half of the race.
“This is no time for heroics”
Race briefing done. Watch on. Final kiss from my wife. We set off. There is no going back now, but I have a plan; a plan worked out over months of training. And I am going to stick to the plan as much as I can. A couple of days before the race, my friend John, who has run ultras before contacted me and said, “This is not a time for heroics. Be happy with the outcome.” Those words are ringing in my ears as we head through the park. Everyone seems to be running so quickly. Susan and I have a little chat. We wish each other well and we begin to run our races. I slow down a bit.
About half a mile in, I see my friend Billy, who has come to wish me well on the route. It is always such a boost when you see someone you know. My wife is going to be at about halfway too, again, something to look forward to. Shortly after that, another running friend Steve joins me. He is also doing the race. We run together for the first six or so miles, chatting as we go. My pace is slightly ahead of schedule but just about right.
“this is no time for heroics”
I get to the first checkpoint feeling good. It is about eight miles in, and coming back will be just around twenty five miles. For most of this part of the race I can see runners ahead of me. As we get past the checkpoint I overtake a couple and we chat for a bit as I pass them. We come down a large hill, the only real hill on the course. The plan for the way back? I am going to walk up this hill, or try and walk/run it. If it was a marathon, and there was a hill at twenty four miles, I would be busting a gut to get up it, but today? With another nine miles to go after it? Remember, this is no time for heroics.
The miles tick by. I almost take one wrong turning, but I quickly spot the signs and get back on the right path. The course follows the route of the Deeside Way from Duthie Park in Aberdeen out to the small town of Banchory. Sixteen and a half miles out. Sixteen and a half miles back. The Deeside Way is the route of the former Deeside Railway, closed as part of the Beeching cuts in the 1960s, so every so often, particularly through the suburbs of Aberdeen you pass through where the old stations used to be, the platforms still clearly visible.
Ticking off the miles
As I get to around the twelve mile mark, I see the first runner coming back the other way, preceded by the lead bike. You might think this is demoralising, but this was almost exactly where I thought this would happen. I have prepared for this. I am on track for my race, just as he is for his race. We wish each other well and carry on. Every runner who passes me exchanges pleasantries. We all know what we are trying to achieve in our unique ways. This section is long and pretty featureless, I am not looking forward to this on the way back.
Around a mile and half before the halfway checkpoint, I spot my wife. I am feeling good, still apprehensive as I have so much distance to go but things are ok. I notice my number is at risk of coming off my shorts as one of my running magnets has come off, so I stop and we try and fix that. But I want to keep going. I run on.
Heading towards the halfway point just after seeing my wife
Shortly afterwards, I pass my friend Susan, now heading for home after being to the halfway checkpoint. She is looking strong and we have a brief chat but both of us do not stop. We need to keep going. We have such a long way to go.
My friend Susan on the run
When I get to halfway, I stop and the fantastic marshals hand me my food bag. I gladly bite into my sausage roll – yes it was cold – and they help me to refill my water bottles, to add in the electrolyte powder into my drinks. I take a couple of bites of the fruit scone. I put my gels – I am taking a gel every five miles – into my pocket and I get going again, worried that if I stayed longer I would begin to stiffen up.
I overtake a couple of other runners as I begin to head back, passing my wife again shortly afterwards. I will see her at the end. Now things are starting to get tough. This section is long and straight, pretty much running parallel to the road to get back to a village called Drumoak. The wind is nagging in my face. This is how it is going to be for the rest of the race. It is a grey day so the scenery is dull and lifeless. There is no one ahead of me. I am alone. Alone with my own thoughts. Alone to ponder all of the distance still to go. This is mentally hard, never mind the physical part. I just keep telling myself to keep going. To stick to the plan. My pace is good. I just need to keep it up. The route seems to stretch forever. Where is everyone else?
At times things were very lonely
I run on and on. Still there is no sign of Drumoak, but then I catch a glimpse of an orange running top. A runner I had noticed as I approached halfway is now up ahead of me and walking. Ahead of him, there is someone else. I run on. We reach Drumoak, as I run through the village, totally randomly, I see a woman I used to work with!! We say hi, she says how great I am doing. Another boost. On we go.
I am approaching twenty three miles, I know what is ahead. I have passed the guy in the orange top. I can see others ahead of me now, some close, some in the distance. I reach the hill. Others are walking and now I am too. Stick to the plan, no time for heroics. I walk. I run. I walk. I run. I get up the hill. The only cut off point for the race was the checkpoint at twenty five miles. You had to reach that within five and half hours of the start. I get there about four hours thirty five minutes in.
“I do not feel like eating”
One of the marshals at this checkpoint I knew a little. Lorna hands me my food bag. Another marshal helps me refill my bottle. I have been taking my gels but I am reaching the stage where I do not feel like eating. I wolf down the smoky bacon crisps, and I put a gel in my pocket, but the rest of my food I put in my rucksack. I am feeling a bit sick. There are others at the check point with me. I wish them well, thank everyone and carry one. Eight miles to go.
Having reached the checkpoint within the time limit, I could walk in from here, but that was not the plan. The plan was to keep going as much as I could. I get beyond marathon distance. I am trying so hard not to look at my watch. This is now unknown territory. As I get towards twenty eight miles, things are now very much run/walk. I am running as much as I can, but I am also doing military marching pace when I am walking. I decide to have my final gel though I really do not feel like having it, but I know I should. I do not want to run totally out of gas now. I meet up with two other runners running and walking like me and we chat a bit. One of them has done the race before and she says, “all we need to do is keep chipping away”. Great advice. I keep chipping away.
Just keep going
I keep saying it, but this is not the time for heroics. This is the time for digging in. This is the time to look ahead and decide, “I am going to run to that bridge”, or, “I am going to walk to that tree and then start running again”. This is the time to look inside and find yourself. To discover that you are capable of so much more than you ever thought. I get beyond the thirty mile mark. We have been passing back through the old stations once again. Every one passed is another landmark toward the finish. I begin to believe. I begin to genuinely believe that I am going to finish, but it is so difficult.
“I am really going to do this”
The route begins to go slowly downhill so I run a bit more. There are runners ahead. The Deeside way just stretches out ahead. I pass a woman on a horse. Families out walking, out enjoying a Saturday afternoon stroll. Another runner is on the path ahead of me, heading my way. He sees me, stops, take out his headphone and says, “are you doing the ultra? Is that today?”. I tell him yes. He says, “fair play, great effort”. I keep going. There are more houses now, either side of the path. The Deeside Way is coming to the end. I am really going to do this.
I can see four figures at the end of the path at the entrance back into the Duthie Park which I had left more than six hours previously. A man and three women. I pick up and run again, as I get closer I realise that the women are my wife and two of my running friends, Maxine and Jeanette. They break out into applause as I get closer, encouraging me on. I pass them and run into the park for that agonising final half mile. And a few minutes later I am with them beyond the finish line.
With Maxine and Jeanette after the finish
As we chat and discuss how it has gone I also look at the medal and it is an instant classic. As I mentioned earlier, the race takes place on the old Deeside Railway line, so the medal, which is wooden, is in the form of a train ticket. I love it and have spent quite a lot of time just looking at it. It is a physical symbol of all that went into it.
A very special medal indeed
After the race, I find out that Susan has also finished and I am so happy for her. She was around twenty five minutes ahead of me, an epic effort. I then headed back to the hotel where we had registered where the organisers had some hot soup and rowies on offer for everyone. The soup was totally epic, but I was done, I just wanted to head home. I saw some other friends, we had a chat, and I got back in the car. Stiffness was setting in. Getting out of the car was a task in itself, and then it was a case of starting to celebrate. Frankly I have not really stopped. Having put so much in, it is important, in my book, to really enjoy the warm afterglow. I am on such a high.
Rehydration was essential
Even after the race, I still did not feel that hungry, so while we got in fish and chips, I only ate about half of it, keeping the rest for later. While I had burned off an enormous amount of calories in doing the race, I really could just not get comfortable afterwards, though I knew I needed to keep drinking (not just booze) and eating a bit, so my go to snack is always salted peanuts. You cannot really see it in the photos but my face was just covered in salt when I finished as I had sweated so much out so I knew I needed to put a lot more back in.
My legs felt like they were on the brink of cramping up for most of the evening. In the days afterwards, my legs were extremely stiff after sitting down for any length of time, and I was discovering muscles and tendons I never knew I had, but as I have said before, pain is temporary, glory is forever, and this is definitely a glorious outcome. I have added my medal to the hanger with my most special medals – those from my six marathon races and the one ultra trail event I have done.
A special collection
What have I learned then, about this whole experience? Running an ultramarathon gives you a totally different perspective on distance. To go 50km and beyond in one go makes you consider just what is truly possible. Once I got beyond that marathon mark, it was almost a surreal experience. It was almost like something out of body. I knew it was me who was doing it, but I was so focused on the target it felt like I was someone else.
It has taught me, again, the value of my running friends. Every single one of them told me I would do it. They probably believe it more than I did. And that helped me so much. I got brilliant advice and support from important people at the right time. That helped me get my head around what I was trying to achieve. I have had the goal of doing the D33 probably for about five years so to finally do it is the culmination of so much time, toil and, along the way, tears. It was not a time for heroics, and I am ecstatically happy with the outcome. The whole atmosphere of the race was fantastic, with great organisation, incredibly enthusiastic and encouraging marshals and also fantastically supportive other runners. I truly want to thank them all.
“the ultimate challenge”
It has given me more of a perspective of my own capabilities. I had always regarded the marathon as the ultimate challenge – and it is a huge achievement – and by doing them I had nothing to prove to anyone. But by doing the D33 perhaps this has just proven to me, even more, of just what I can achieve in terms of my own mental strength and resilience. and my physical endurance, guts and determination.
I have no idea if I will ever do an another ultramarathon event and I definitely need a break from the Saturday morning long runs for a bit before I contemplate what my next race will be, though my immediate thought is to do some local 10ks or half marathons in the coming months. Who knows?
But the main thing out, of everything I went through and endured, is that I know, I truly know, that I am an ultramarathon runner; an ultramarathon finisher. And that is a very special place to be.
One big effort to go. That is all it is. One big effort. After you boil everything down from training to illness to tapering to Friday nights in and early Saturday morning runs in the dark, cold, rain and wind, that is all it is. One more big effort. But this time it is the biggest of them all.
Taking part in races is the icing on the cake; the culmination of the effort which few others see. Racing is like that classic image you see of the iceberg, with only the tip visible out the water. Under the surface is where the majority of the iceberg lies, hidden from sight, but it is what underpins it all. You simply cannot just turn up and hope that you can run an event unless you have done the work beforehand.
“I have put in the work I could”
This time round, however, the work I have done is nothing like the work I had planned to do when I first began contemplating the D33 Ultra Marathon race towards the end of last year. Then I had a clear training plan to follow, combining long weekend runs with extensive midweek training to back it up. Those midweek runs are not as far as the weekend ones, but they are all part of building up the endurance and strength needed to get through when times are tough. Even so, my February stats were ok. I have put in the work I could, with the most hours of running since last April.
At this point last year, I was in the midst of training for the Rotterdam Marathon, which I did in early April 2023 (hence the big number then). That training went without a hitch, and when I look back, I ran far more than I have done this time around. But this time around, the cough and cold I picked up at the new year, meant I simply could not attempt the same. The flip side of that though is that, perhaps for other races, I have overtrained. Who knows? The truth is, I am where I am. This is what I have got to offer the race next Saturday.
Last weekend, I did not run at all. A weekend off visiting family and meeting up with friends in London. After the marathon training run the weekend before, this was a great break from the routine of the early Saturday mornings, and I made sure to enjoy not just the sights, but also great company and all the food and drinks which came with it. For now though, I am off the beer until after the race is done.
One day I would love to run over here during the London Marathon
After the weekend off, however, I did make sure to get in three runs this week, putting in a bit of pace to my non-jogscotland run, just to give my body a bit of a wake up call. I have no intention of running anything like as quickly as I did during these short runs, but it is good to remind yourself that you can drag out a bit of pace once in a while. Maybe after the race is done, I might try and do some speed work again.
For the moment, I have begun to look a bit more at the route for next weekend, which takes me from the Duthie Park in Aberdeen out the old Deeside Railway Line (now called the Deeside Way) to the small town of Banchory and back.
The start and finish are at the Green marker, with the Red the turning point
I try not to obsess too much about a route, or analyse it too deeply. The route is the route, all I need to do is to run it. Similarly the weather. Nothing I can do to change it, it is going to happen anyway. All I can do is focus on my approach to the day.
But hopefully the weather will be a bit better than it was for my final long taper run. Dry to start, but then from about an hour in it turned very wet, even with a bit of sleet thrown in for fun. The taper is the period where you wind down your mileage in advance of a race to give your body the chance to recover before the big day. When your taper run is a half marathon distance – which it was – then you know you are in for a seriously long run for the actual event.
“a bit of a necessary evil”
For the first time this year, I started my Saturday run in daylight. It has been a long slog to get to this point, but it does make a huge difference to your mood when you don’t need to take your headtorch out to make sure you can see where you are going for the first hour or two. With taper runs, all you want to do is get them done without getting injured. They are a bit of a necessary evil to keep your legs turning over and also to stop you going stir crazy from not running!
Out in daylight for a pleasant change
Apart from the weather, I was pleased with how things went, though I did begin to get a bit of cramp towards the end in my right calf, mostly when I had to stop to cross roads. I think this was probably due to how cold and wet it was, but also perhaps I had not drunk enough in the build up, or on the run itself, so this is something for me to watch to ensure I am fully hydrated.
The final half marathon tapering run
The highlight of the run though was the first couple of miles, where I ran with my friend Cara for the first time in ages. It was great to catch up with her and to run together again, and it set me up really nicely for the rest of the run. Throughout the training, the help and support of friends has meant so much to me – both Maxine and Susan helping me has been so important on my long runs, the jogscotland groups I have led have also helped too – and that shows really what running is about. Yes races are important, but the friends which running has brought into my life are truly special.
So nice to run with Cara once again
So the big runs are all done, so what now? Well I will probably do a couple more short runs during the week just to stay loose, but then thoughts will turn to preparing for Saturday. In the build up to a marathon – and so this will be the same for the ultra – I begin to eat and, more importantly, drink a bit more three days out from the race. Hydration is not just about on the day, it is absolutely about making sure you are fully hydrated going into it. It might mean a few more trips to the toilet than normal, but that is fine. I also know what I will be eating the day before to get prepared.
Then there is taking the stress out of the morning itself. Making sure I have everything packed and the kit looked out the night before – for an ultra you have to take specific kit with you, including full waterproofs, gloves, hat, foil blanket – and also have my nutrition sorted too. Gels, bars, drinks, solid food. This is both for what I am eating for breakfast and also what I plan to eat during the race. There are three checkpoints on the ultra and the organisers will take a small bag of food, drinks etc that you pack up out to the points for you to collect when you get there. So all of that will be done the night before too.
“there are enough nerves going around”
On the day of an event, there are enough nerves going around so best not to add to them. I will also be making sure my phone and running watch are fully charged too so all I need to do in the morning is eat, get dressed and then turn up in plenty of time to register, collect my number and get to the start line.
I am not going to lie, I am nervous about the challenge ahead, but I think these are good nerves. I am always nervous before the start of any race, and I think nerves help you focus, as long you do not become overwhelmed by them. It is a step into the unknown, but ever since I took up running, every distance I have challenged myself to do has been a step into the unknown. Sometimes it is good to scare yourself.
I know I have done all I can, given the circumstances of the past two months. I have a plan in place for the pace at which I am going to run. I have worked out my hydration and nutrition and what I am going to eat and when (yes, sausage rolls and fruit scones are in the mix). I have resolved in my head what it is going to take to get me through it. All I need to do now is go and do it.
craigaw 1969 