Blown Away

I almost called this entry "Sick and Tired" which would have been somewhat accurate but deemed it too negative.

Training for a marathon or an ultra isn't exactly glamorous, especially so in the winter. It often boils down to putting in the miles, one after the other, often on tired legs and almost always on your own, in the dark, away from everyone and everything.

This week was rather challenging as I was always struggling to recover. I needed recovery from the race last Saturday and recovery from whatever bug affected me as well as half of the family. I know some people think I'm an idiot for always trying to run, never mind the circumstances. Feeling sick? Go for a run. Pain in the leg? Go for a run. Having to drive someone to an airport or train station a 6 am? Get up at 4 am and run. Tired or hungover? Definitely go for a run, that's not even an excuse. Storm blowing outside? Try to find a lull in the storm and find a somewhat sheltered piece of road and run.

I freely admit I got it badly wrong on two occasions. 8 years ago I stubbornly ran through a cold with a cough that got worse and worse until I developed pneumonia and was bedridden for 3 weeks (boy that hurt!). And this summer I ran for two weeks through a hip pain that just did not get any better until I finally had to admit defeat and subsequently missed 6 weeks of what should have been a crucial training period.

On all other occasions I was right to keep on running. The way I see it I'm still way ahead of where I would be training-wise than if I accepted excuses for not running, despite those 2 setbacks. I would not have gotten to the World Championship if my mindset wasn't to go for a run under virtually any circumstances.

I didn't feel great on Thursday, though I was already better than the day before. I took it reasonably easy because the legs were tired from the long run on Wednesday, otherwise there isn't much to report. I ran the same road again but a little bit quicker on Friday. On both days I was a little bit slower that I would have thought effort-wise. I'm pretty sure that's the cold knocking my system slightly out of whack. I can see in my HR graphs that the numbers dipped badly on Wednesday and then gradually recovered until they were more or less back to where I would have expected them on Saturday.

I ran a bit faster on Saturday, though the conditions weren't exactly ideal. The blustery wind on its own was bad enough but when it blew the rain straight into my face it was less than pleasant and not exactly conducive to a great run. I was still pleased with how it went, though.

On Sunday I awoke to the sound of the storm raging outside. Actually, I did that on several occasions as the wind kept waking me until I finally got up at around 7 o'clock. Storm Clodagh is the third storm of the season worthy of its own name, though once more it was the North that took the brunt of it and we got away relatively lightly. I checked the Met Eireann website but failed to notice the orange alert being issued (orange for wind, yellow for rain) - having said that, in retrospect they were being overcautious. I could not fail to notice the wind and the debris on the road and wondered where to run. I reluctantly settled on running back-and forwards on the Ard-na-Sidhe road but was stopped dead in my tracks less than two miles into my run by a fallen tree blocking the entire road. After a bit of hesitation I climbed through the branches and continued on. There were no other major bits of debris around (plenty of minor ones, though) and I decided to run between that tree and where the road starts to climb in earnest towards the Devil's Elbow, a stretch of just under a mile. To be honest, the prospect of running back-and-forwards on that road no less than 9 times each way didn't exactly fill me with anticipation and I somewhat doubted I would last the distance but in the end I just got on with it and ran. The legs were tired straight away due to yesterday's run and started to hurt properly after 8 miles, the conditions got pretty bad at times and running on the same stretch of road so many times was really stretching it but somehow I got through it all, climbed through the tree once more, joked with a couple walking their dog what a nice morning it was for a stroll and headed for home.

There has to be some bonus for getting through that kind of stuff!

26 Nov

10 miles, 1:21:16, 8:07 pace, HR 145

27 Nov

10 miles, 1:20:19, 8:02 pace, HR 143

28 Nov

12 miles, 1:30:07, 7:30 pace, HR 152

29 Nov

20 miles, 2:43:06, 8:09 pace, HR 147

Weekly Mileage: 85

Toil And Reward

On Monday morning my first impression was that the legs felt much better than expected after a fairly tough weekend (which seems to be something I am saying after every weekend). I still took it reasonably easy on my run, though the pace was definitely slower than what I would have expected.  A couple of miles before the finish I somehow manage to trip over nothing but the flat road surface and took a tumble. Nothing was hurt but my pride and I have no idea how that happened. I have always been a bit clumsy, which is one of the main reasons why I prefer road running to trail or mountain running, but stumbling over nothing at all?

Later that day my legs felt really achy - I think it was a very delayed reaction to the tough weekend.

I could of course claim that I therefore decided to take it a bit easier on Tuesday by only running 8 miles but truth is that I overslept and only had time for 8, and if the cat had not woken me shortly after 6 o'clock it would have been even less. It was cold and windy and then it started raining as well - we're definitely heading towards my least favourite weather conditions, icy cold rain and wind, horrible. We're not quite there yet though, thankfully.

The "Run The Kingdom" group had an awards night in Tralee on Tuesday and I was very honoured to receive an achievement award for my races in 2015, specifically the World Championship and the Spartathlon. Funnily enough I'm not entirely happy with my performance in either race as I think I could have done better in both but I accepted the award nevertheless - it was a great honour, thank you very much!

What I am distinctly less grateful for is the fact that we have now firmly moved into the colds and flu season, and with 4 kids at school age we are assured a constant stream of new infections. Maia was very snuffly at the weekend but is already feeling much better. Cian, on the other hand, is at home at the moment, recovering, as are half of his classmates. I'm not sure whose bug I caught but I've got a sore throat and am generally feeling achy and not 100% myself. I didn't sleep too well and wondered if going for a run was a good idea but my default setting is to always go for a run and see how it goes. As it turns out I felt perfectly fine while running, better then when not running in fact. However, I'm sure the very high HR this morning is a direct result of my body having to fight off an infection. The facts that I ran over a very hilly course and had to deal with a blustery wind only added to that. I also managed to take a wrong turn at a junction early on but  luckily noticed it after a minute or so. It would have taken me on a longer route around the lake, which is the road I had used last Sunday. I must have still been half asleep.

23 Nov

10 miles, 1:23:51, 8:23 pace, HR 137

24 Nov

8 miles, 1:06:34, 8:19 pace, HR 137

25 Nov

15.3 miles, 2:07:58, 8:20 pace, HR 147

Pucked

Ultra runners are creatures of habits. I guess there's no denying that: I have only been using Strava since August 2014 and yet I have already amassed a three-figure number of 10 mile runs on the same road alongside Caragh Lake (someone called me "Mr 10 miles a couple of months ago). Yes, this is my standard run. I think I recently ran it 5 times in a row. It has everything: beautiful scenery, several hills and a very quiet road. Perfect. Having said that, I have upped my training a bit over the last 2 weeks, which meant a more varied approach.

Saturday was the day of our local race, the Killorglin Puck Warrior 10k. I have missed it the last 4 or 5 years because I never felt up for a 10k after running a long race during summer followed by the Dublin marathon and one or two more ultras in Dingle and Sixmilebridge. This year I have not raced since the Spartathlon 8 weeks ago and while racing during base building isn't particularly encouraged (depends who you ask, though) I just could not miss our home town race - some support for the local running community doesn't go amiss, I'm bad enough at that as it is.

Aine loves hills in her races! I'm pretty sure she has never put on a race over a flat course. Actually, the 5k was okay but to make up for that she put not just 1 but 2 killer climbs into the 10k, which was the distance I had opted for. I kept a steady pace with a few other guys in a little group, somewhere around 6th place. After the first hill that group had dwindled down to 3 and we ran together towards Cromane, though at that point I was hanging on for dear life. I lost contact by a couple of metres on 2 or 3 occasions but each time managed to claw my way back as I did not want to run into the wind on my own. Turning the corner only provided short respite because in no time at all we were at the second hill. At first I managed to somewhat stay in contact but then the imaginary bungee cord snapped and the guys pulled away. I could not make up the deficit on the downhill either, though it wasn't for lack of trying, I finished the race with a 6-minute mile, my fastest of the day, to finish in 7th position in 39:46 (on my own watch). So much effort for such a modest time! Just for the heck of it I took a screenshot to prove that I got into 4:xx pace at some point (yes it was downhill. Obviously!)

Before the start Seamus had jokingly suggested I pace him to 40 minutes so of course I gave out to him for not keeping up and missing out by 4 seconds while he gave out to me for not waiting for him - all in good spirit, obviously. Unfortunately I could not hang around as I had to immediately hurry home for the kids' music lessons in Tralee. I did a 2 mile cooldown run later on but after 10 minutes my blood sugar level had dropped and all I could do was crawl home while my heart seemed to be racing. Watermelon has never tasted so good!

I expected the legs to be totally dead on Sunday morning and was pleasantly surprised to find them in very good order (I guess the hit will come on Monday instead). I ran around the lake for the first time in ages and it went much better than expected. Last week the last 5 miles had been quite some drag, today they were much better, though admittedly I wasn't exactly feeling sprightly towards the end. It was a lovely sunny morning for a run - haven't had one of those in quite some time!

20 Nov

10 miles, 1:22:45, 8:16 pace, HR 138

21 Nov

10 miles, including:

Puck Warrior 10k, 39:46, 6:24 pace, HR 172, 7th place

22 Nov

18 miles, 2:21:20, 7:51 pace, HR 149

Weekly mileage: 85

Attack Of The Purple Dinosaur

The weather has certainly been interesting the last few days, that's for sure. Storm Abigail wad followed by Barney and the weather front between those two had felt quite severe as well - there sure was not much of a respite for a wet and weary runner. The saving grace was that both severe storms had the good grace of hitting after I had already finished my morning run and blowing themselves out before the next run, but I've had more than a fair share of wind and rain in the last few days.

The legs felt pretty much dead on Monday morning so I took it exceptionally easy. Running on tired legs is not a bad thing in itself for an ultrarunner but you have to make sure it doesn't happen too often and it's always best to listen to your body and dial back the effort when needed, even by quite some bit as I did on Monday.

Tuesday did not start out well. It was pitch dark, I could not see a thing and got my angle wrong when running down our driveway and promptly ran right into a tree. Nobody witnessed it and nothing got hurt apart for a few scrapes but I finally relented and got out my headlamp (yes, I should have done that earlier). Things improved markedly following that calamity, the legs felt so much better and I decided to run a little bit faster. Nothing mad, always measured and in control but with the effort level just a tad higher to vary things. Things were helped by the fact that Tuesday morning had the best conditions for a while with little wind though that did not stop me from getting soaked because there simply was no getting away from the rain.

In marked contrast once again, conditions on Wednesday were atrocious. I got up very early, like in the good old days, to run for 2 hours. The wind and rain sounded ominous when I got ready and didn't disappoint either. The first few miles were almost acceptable but around mile 6 the heavens well and truly opened and it was bucketing it down. Add to that the strong gale force wind and you get the picture. It still wasn't the worst conditions I had ever run in but with the temperature dropping we're heading that way: once the rain feels icy cold we're at its worst. I had actually planned to run 15 miles but when I checked the watch after 10 I misread the numbers (which can happen quite easily  when it's pitch dark and you're running through a miniature hurricane) and thought I was running slower than expected and out of time, so I cut it short.

I had to get up just as early on Thursday morning but this time it was to drive Lola to the very early morning train in Killarney. I still had time to run 6 miles before work, which was twice as far as I thought I'd be able to, so that was an unexpected bonus. Because the run was so short I decided to spice it up a few times and put in quite a few surges and just generally played around with pace and effort. I managed to go out a second time after work but to be honest I didn't particularly enjoy running in the dark with considerably more traffic than I'm used to at 6 am, even if it's still a quiet country road.

What pleased me most about the last few days is the fact that 2 months after the Spartathlon the HR data has started to move fairly rapidly into the right direction. I think I'm finally getting over that race, though it will still take a bit longer until I can feel 100% recovered.

16 Nov

10 miles, 1:25:18, 8:32 pace, HR 134

17 Nov

12 miles, 1:33:43, 7:49 pace, HR 147

18 Nov

14 miles, 1:54:24, 8:10 pace, HR 143

19 Nov

am:6 miles, 45:30, 7:35 pace, HR 146

pm:5 miles, 38:57, 7:45 pace, HR 142

Abigail

The first of the winter storms hit us on Thursday. Most of these storms affect mainly the northern part of the island and here in Kerry we tend to get away lightly in comparison (until we don't). This one was somewhat cooperating in as much as it only struck properly once I had already finished my run on Thursday morning and mostly blew itself out before I went out again on Friday but I still had to deal with interesting conditions on both days. My standard procedure on particularly windy days is to run on the Ard-na-Sidhe road, where the trees give the advantage of providing some sort of wind shield but considering the amount of broken branches of all sizes on the road, this comes with its own dangers. I don't know how likely it is to be hit by a falling branch - clearly not very likely but it does happen and at times I do wonder.

Anyway, I got through it all without a scrape and a few more miles in the legs. I think my recent adjustments to my training worked very well. I still try to run a bit faster once a week but no longer at 7:10 pace and HR 160, more at 7:30 pace and HR 150, which leaves the body in much better condition and doesn't require two recovery days on stiff and tired legs. I'm pretty much back to the base training MC had me do - it only took me about 4.5 years to work that out for myself.

Abigail's yellow weather warning had only been in place until Friday morning but unfortunately the next one fit in seamlessly. The plan had been to run over the Windy Gap on Saturday but I was not sure how safe that would have been in those conditions and pored over the map for an alternative. I like to think I found a pretty good one - 4 loops of a hilly run with a very steep road for climbing and a gentler one for descending and the overall elevation change was similar to what the mountain run would have been like. Conditions were testing at times - at one point I thought it may have been hailstoning but it was just the rain being blown sideways with quite some force by the rather strong wind. The legs, however, handled it all pretty well - I must have been building up some decent amount of leg strength by now.

An unusual amount of procrastination brought some unexpected and undeserved rewards on Sunday. After looking out of the window for an hour until finally putting on the shoes and going for a run I realised that the rain had unexpectedly pretty much died down. The wind was still here, of course, but that was never going to go away today. I made it unnecessarily hard for myself by running too fast over the first half. Two or three times I consciously slowed down but each time the legs spun up again as soon as I stopped paying attention. I paid the price for that towards the end and the last 4, 5 miles sucked more than they had to.

Even so, it was a pretty good week of training. I managed over 83 miles and the pace is moving towards 8-minute miles on my easy runs.

12 Nov

10 miles, 1:21:10, 8:07 pace, HR 146

13 Nov

12 miles, 1:37:10, 8:06 pace, HR 144

14 Nov

12.6 miles, 1:43:59, 8:15 pace, HR 149

   very hilly

15 Nov

17 miles, 2:16:39, 8:02 pace, HR 146

Gone With The Wind

It was always going to happen, of course, and now the unexpectedly nice spell of weather we had at the beginning of November is well and truly over. The last few days, with the exception of Saturday, have all been marked by gale force winds and varying degrees of rain. On Monday a colleague asked me "you didn't go running in this weather, did you?", to which I could only reply "I've seen a lot worse". That pretty much says it all - it wasn't particularly bad and worse is undoubtedly yet to come, but it was the first hint of the winter storms.

I changed my weekend training in an attempt to avoid feeling like a ton on bricks for the first half of the week. Instead of doing a faster run on Saturday and then dragging myself over the mountain on heavy feet on Sunday I ventured into the mountain on Saturday. Following several days of rain the Kerry Way was waterlogged in many places but perfectly runnable (apart from the one spot where there had been some minor earth slide a couple of months ago) and I gave it a good, honest effort - but was VERY surprised to see a segment PB popping up for one climb when I uploaded the data into the computer afterwards. Make no mistake, this is still a soft segment, I am nowhere near top fitness and I ran nowhere near top effort. Running this on fresh legs for a change must have made quite some difference.

The legs did feel the effort on Sunday, of course, but it was the lousy weather that made me change my mind about running around the lake because I really did not fancy facing the high winds on higher ground. I chose the most boring option, namely running to Ard-na-Sidhe and back three times in a row, which is the only piece of road I know in the vicinity where the trees provide some sort of shelter against the worst of the winds. The time passed surprisingly quickly and the legs were okay - a little bit heave but it never got any worse, despite this being the longest run since Sparta by 3 miles.
Entirely by accident I reached a figure of 77.7 miles for the week. Neat!

The legs felt a lot better this Monday than on previous Mondays so I call the change in my training a success. Remember, this is still about recovery at the moment, not building fitness. The numbers on Monday were definitely encouraging, the best ones so far since Sparta, which is good. Tuesday's weren't quite as good but with the gale force winds I had to battle that's not overly surprising. But at least I do get the distinct impression that things are going into the right direction. Finally!

7 Nov

10.7 miles, 1:33:56, 8:47 pace, HR 152

   Windy Gap

8 Nov

15 miles, 2:02:19, 8:09 pace, HR 146

9 Nov

10 miles, 1:21:08, 8:07 pace, HR 143

10 Nov

10 miles, 1:21:04, 8:06 pace, HR 146

Getting Old

I seem to be having the same discussion again and again:

"Did you run the Dublin marathon?"
"No, I decided on no more marathons for the rest of the year because I'm still recovering from my last race"
"How long was that?"
"153 miles"
"Over how many days was that?"

(big mistake - it gives away the fact that they don't read my blog).

Anyway, training. It's still stuttering along. I keep thinking that I'm taking it easy and my body keeps telling me that apparently I ain't.

The issue this week seems to be with Wednesday's run. I wanted to run just a little bit longer so I ran 12 miles instead of 10. No big deal. I kept the effort easy, at the same easy RPE that I run on most days. Apparently I wasn't: the HR that day was 148, about 5 beats higher than I would have thought and the pace was slightly below 8 minutes, again a bit faster than I would have thought but I only gleaned both bits of information when I checked the watch after the run. During the run I could have sworn I was running as the same level as usual. I did notice the legs getting a bit tired towards the end but since this was the longest run since Sparta this was only to be expected.

Well, wouldn't you know it, I have felt tired ever since. The legs felt stiff on Thursday but got gradually better as the run went long. On Friday it was the left hip that felt off and resulted in the slowest opening mile in weeks (and that says something as I always start very slowly - the first mile is my warm up) before gradually getting better. The weather didn't help, there was plenty of wind and rain on both days but that definitely doesn't explain the high HR on its own. I'm guessing that Wednesday's run inadvertently pushed the level a but too much and I had to pay the price.

This sucks. I hate having to run slowly every day. Recovery is so slow - I must be getting old.

Maia just had her 8th birthday. I called her old. Of course she corrected me: 8 years is not old, 40 is!

4 Nov

12 miles, 1:34:53, 7:54 pace, HR 148

5 Nov

10 miles, 1:22:57, 8:18 pace, HR 143

6 Nov

10 miles, 1:21:41, 8:10 pace, HR 148

Stress And Recovery

As I'm sure you are aware, training is a never-ending story of stress, adaptation and recovery. You stress your body (in fact, you stress your mind as well), it adapts and recovers and the game starts again. This goes on at various levels and on various time scales, and on and on and on.

I obviously knew I was in dire need of recovery after the Spartathlon. However, I expected it to be somewhat similar to my previous 24-hour races. After all, I had covered 140 and 134 miles in my last 2 of those, so a 153 mile race seemed to be in the same league.

Except that it wasn't!

The varied terrain, the fact that we crossed two mountains, the much longer time on our feet and probably the changing weather conditions as well all added up to a much bigger stress factor. In the last few weeks I kept comparing my figures from now to the ones after Belfast and Turin and was left in no doubt, they were way worse this time round.

So, it was a matter of patience, which, as mentioned before, isn't always my greatest asset, though I'm still doing better than some. At the end of last week I could finally see some real improvement in the numbers as well as how I felt, so that was highly encouraging. Probably a bit too much so because on Saturday, after 5 days of nothing but slow running, I went out with the intention of giving the legs a decent workout once more. I'm still following MC's old guidelines (though I'm not 100% sure if he would agree) so I knew the thresholds of HR/effort that I was not to cross - except that, of course, I did cross them.

The problem is that my HR keeps drifting upwards when I do a tempo run. That is perfectly normal and expected, especially when I'm still in the very early days of a training cycle. So when I was right at the upper parameters right from the start the script was basically written. I just could not get myself to slow down and so the HR kept drifting up and up and up until I finally had to concede that I had f*cked this up. Ah well. Too late now.

I paid an immediate price the next day as the legs were exceptionally stiff and tired and I kept the effort on my mountain run as easy as it is possible while climbing a (minor) mountain. That run took me several minutes more than the week before, when the effort has already been rather easy (for similar reasons).

Then, on Monday, I compared the numbers to the previous Monday and they did not make happy reading. Stressing your body is fine and good but it needs to be at the appropriate level. There is no point in running so hard that you set yourself back, you want to build yourself up, gradually and slowly. With that in mind, I'm back at running slowly again this week. I'll make changes to my training because I don't want to fall into the same trap every weekend. I have a couple of ideas but I'll have to think them through first.

On the plus side, Tuesday's run was much better and the expected DOMS from Sunday's mountain run never materialised - almost certainly because I had taken it so easy. I'll still take it easy for a few more days.

My eldest daughter has a cold at the moment and I can feel it a bit as well - all the more reason to take it easy, of course.

31 Oct

10 miles, 1:14:35, 7:28 pace, HR 155

   incl. 8 miles @ 7:12 pace

1 Nov

10.7 miles, 1:37:02, 9:04 pace, HR 15o

   Windy Gap

2 Nov

10 miles, 1:24:08, 8:25 pace, HR 144

3 Nov

10 miles, 1:21:43, 8:10 pace, HR 145

Things Not To Say To An Ultrarunner

• I would get tired driving that far (You're not the first one to come up with that joke. Honestly.)
• You are nuts (I could personally feed an entire zoo of monkeys by now)
• I don't know how you do it (I train for it)
• Doesn't that hurt your knees (No it doesn't)
• Your family must be very understanding (I get up at 6 am every day and run when they're still asleep)

For some reason I've been told every single one of those in the last 5 days, from various people. Not that I blame anyone but it is getting a bit old. At the very least I'd really appreciate it if someone came up with a new, original joke.

With that out of the way, there isn't an awful lot to say about the training this week so far. I felt a bit up and down at the beginning of the week, so cut out any notions of fartleks or other fast efforts and just ran easily. It seemed to work, I gradually started feeling better and over the last couple of days have finally noticed tentative signs that the HR is starting to come down (let's hope it lasts this time).

The weather has been mixed, Wednesday was a remarkably still day with the lake almost as flat as a mirror. Today, in contrast, it was raining heavily, though conditions gradually improved as the run wore on. One of the days (Monday? Tuesday?) was particularly windy, so I guess I've gone through just about all permutations in one single week.

For a few days a had a very weird pain in my left hip that would start about 2 minutes into my run and subside another 2 minutes later. Things like that come and go all the time but the same pain kept coming back again and again for about 8 days out of 10. Very strange. The last time I felt it was about Tuesday so it's probably resolved now anyway. I usually don't take too much notice of little twinges like that but after missing 6 weeks of training during summer due to a hip issue I;m a bit more paranoid than usual.

Anyway, that's all good now, things are finally on the up and I'm looking forward to starting a new training cycle soon.

27 Oct

10 miles, 1:23:41, 8:22 pace, HR 144

28 Oct

10 miles, 1:23:05, 8:19 pace, HR 145

29 Oct

10 miles, 1:23:16, 8:20 pace, HR 143

30 Oct

10 miles, 1:21:43, 8:10 pace, HR 144

If you think those last four runs are looking remarkably similar (in fact, you can add Monday's run as well to make it 5) then you would be right. They were all run over the same route and at the same time of day. I'm a creature of habit - a lot of ultra runners are, I bet. Just don't call us nuts!

My Beating Heart

When I mention words like "I need to be patient" then that is usually a clear sign that I am starting to struggle with that very concept. I clearly noticed this a couple of years ago when MC pointed out in a way that only he can that I had mentioned the need for patience in one blog post and then proceeded to display anything but over the next couple of weeks. I have to avoid running too hard too often - what I need now is recovery.

The problem is of course that running at an easy effort day in day out is just not particularly exciting, not even for an ultra runner. So, from time to time, I do feel the need to push the effort a bit higher. That in itself is not a bad thing, you need to give the system a little of a kick from time to time, the problem is to find the right amount of pushing, balancing everything according to your recovery needs. It's something that I clearly do not get right all the time.

After the fartlek last week I did a faster run on Saturday, though I only did 8 miles in the hope that a somewhat lower mileage would stop me from pushing over the edge. It felt really good to put a bit of effort into a run for a change, so from that point of view I have no regrets. I did wistfully remember the times when I averaged a faster pace than that in my easy runs. However, if things go to plan, those days will return in not too far a future. There's that concept again, patience.

I did pay for that effort, of course, with a pair of heavy legs on Sunday. Instead of drudging along for an hour on the road I headed up to the Windy Gap, though I did take it rather easy. The HR was as high as it had been the day before but the run felt completely different. I struggled a bit early on but once I got into it it went much better than I could have expected - the really steep long climb to the Gap itself went entirely on autopilot, which I usually can only do if I'm in great shape - maybe I've gotten used to it? Maybe I need a bigger mountain - there are plenty of those around here, unfortunately most would require me to drive there instead of running straight from home. That's not going to happen this winter - maybe next year.

Today, Monday, I just ran 10 easy miles while thinking of all my friends running the Dublin marathon at the same time. Or so I thought. I did do a double take when I looked at the HR number afterwards - I swear it was an easy run, why the HR was at the same level as the last 2 runs I don't quite know. I guess it's a lack of recovery, with the system still being compromised after Sparta. However, I don't feel particularly bad, in fact today's run was perfectly enjoyable. Somewhere there is a clear disconnect and I'm starting to think I need some help re-connecting things.

I have therefore asked for help.

23 Oct

10 miles, 1:24:11, 8:25 pace, HR 146

24 Oct

8 miles, 1:01:15, 7:39 pace, HR 154

25 Oct

10.7 miles, 1:33:30, 8:44 pace, HR 154

   Windy Gap

26 Oct

10 miles, 1:20:34, 8:03 pace, HR 153

Winter Is Coming

It really is getting dark in the mornings! I can't believe how quickly the mornings have changed. It's pitch dark when I leave the house and it's still barely dawn when I come back home from my run. The clocks are going back this Sunday, which will make a big difference again but only for a few weeks. That time next month it will be Winter running, basically.

We had some unexpectedly nice weather last week. The sky was totally clear in the morning and the first thing I saw when I opened the door was Orion in all its beauty. It was also very cold - that goes hand in hand with clear skies, and one morning it got as cold as 2 degrees! The last few days it has turned again, Wednesday morning was fairly wild with wind and rain but it also got warmer again. I'm not sure what the weather is going to be like for the Dublin marathon on Monday - it could be windy or they could get lucky. I still can't quite believe I'm not running it this year!

Monday morning was an early call at stupid o'clock, just like in the old days when I used to do my long runs in the middle of the week. I left the house at 5 am, which was my only chance to run that day. I had considered skipping that run, after all I'm not training right now and still very much in my recovery phase from Sparta, but then decided to go ahead anyway. I don't want to get into the habit of skipping runs but you can call it OCD if you want.

I was back to my normal times the other days. My main concern at the moment is that the HR is really high, even when the effort is easy. It seemed to start coming down but that stalled or even reverted back. Obviously I'm aware that things are still out of whack after that extreme effort in Greece but at the same time I'm pretty sure I'm not suffering from overtraining - I sleep soundly, my appetite is good and all other signs are fine as well.

The HR often starts coming down when I start introducing a few runs at a higher effort, though I am hesitant to do that while I'm still deep in recovery. In an attempt to get the legs moving at a higher pace while not overtaxing my system I did a 60/60 on/off workout this morning, which I call a Kenyan fartlek because that workout is described in this book, though the Kenyan element clearly refers to the structure of the workout, not the pace. In fact, I made sure to take it reasonably easy and never pushed particularly hard. What I found interesting in the graph was how I seem to switch pace by changing my cadence rather than stride length, though I don't think that has any real practical implications.

During the last couple of miles my right foot was bothering me slightly - I thought I had developed a blister, which would be highly unusual - the only time I developed a blister in about the last 8 years was when I was running a race in excess of 100 miles. Anyway, when I got home I checked it out and it wasn't a new blister - it was a dead piece of skin hanging off, the last reminder of the one blister I got in Greece. Bloody damn big it was too, almost the size of  Euro coin. The other reminder I have from that race is a dark toenail on the left foot but I noticed it started growing back "normal" coloured already, so I guess it won't fall off, which means I still have never lost a toenail, which means I'm still not a proper runner!

19 Oct

8 miles, 1:08:57, 8:37 pace, HR 139

20 Oct

10 miles, 1:25:38, 8:34 pace, HR 145

21 Oct

8 miles, 1:05:25, 8:11 pace, HR 151

22 Oct

8 miles, 1:05:42, 8:13 pace, HR 150

   Kenyan fartlek

Slow Recovery

After previous long races, like 100 miles or 24-hour races, my experience has been that it takes about 1 day per mile raced until I feel 100% recovered. That happens to be an old formula often applied to marathon recovery and I was surprised to find that the same recovery schedule still seems to hold true for much longer races, but it certainly was for me. There is nothing to indicate that things should be any different this time round so I guess I should not be surprised that things are happening at a very slow pace. In all likelihood it will take 5 months until I feel fully recovered - that would be towards the end of February!

Thankfully recovery does not mean I cannot run - I have run the Dingle Ultra or the Double Marathon in Sixmilebridge during those recovery phases in the last few years (as well as paced Dublin at 3:15 or 3:10 every year), but obviously never a as a goal race and never at full race effort (not that I was hanging around for either). This time I will take things easier. I have definitely decided not to run any marathons (or ultras) until those 5 months are over and I feel fully recovered. Once I have gotten over the worst, I still intend to train hard for my next marathon, but that will have to wait. I can clearly feel that things are still far from right at the moment.

The legs felt pretty good on most days but as soon as I hit a hill I can immediately feel the hamstrings. They feel achy and tired, as if in the last few miles of a marathon. I can still run on those legs just fine but it's obvious that I have to let them recover. I need to be patient - not always my strongest point, admittedly, though I am well used to working with a long term goal in mind.

The mileage has gone up to 10 miles by now. I don't feel much different after 6 miles or 10, so it's hard to say where the optimum lies. I'll cut back again when I feel I need to or when Real Life interferes. My main concern right now is that the HR is rather high on each run and doesn't really reflect the relatively easy effort I am putting in. I would have hoped for that to have come down a little bit by now but no such luck. Patience. Patience, please.

16 Oct

8 miles, 1:07:27, 8:25 pace, HR 142

17 Oct

8 miles, 1:03:36, 7:57 pace, HR 150

18 Oct

10 miles, 1:20:52, 8:05 pace, HR 149

Breaking My Promise

I know, I know, I've been going on about the Spartathlon for too long already and I said I'd move on but hey. I found an online database with all results since 1983 (even 1982, though that was not an official race) and played around a bit. What I found is that if I count myself as Irish I am the third fastest finisher, which sounds far more impressive than my performance merited. As Austrian I am in more realistic 17th position - actually, that shows that there has been far too little interest in this classic race here in Ireland over the years. This finally looks like changing now, though; half the names on the Irish list are from the last 2 years. And what do we say about the fact that the top Irish performance is from a lady? One thing only, namely that some things don't ever seem to change, if you look at the results from Turin this year!

My post-race recovery is continuing. I am very cautious in ramping up the mileage. Usually I would go from 5 to 8 miles once the legs feel like they can take it but I stepped it to a mere 6, just to be on the safe side. I feel good while running and the numbers are already improving but the legs still feel sore at times; quads and calves especially.

The weather has been absolutely brilliant this week with icy clear mornings (the first thing I see when I open my door in the morning is Orion in all its beauty) and beautiful days with actual sunshine, something that's rare enough over here. It's a bit more cloudy today but teh forecast for the weekend is still pretty good. Can't complain for once!

I finally upped the daily mileage to 8 this morning, Thursday. The legs did feel a bit sluggish and I'll keep a close eye on recovery but all in all things are going okay, the HR is still higher than I would like but obviously I know what's causing that and over time this will improve of course.

I won't do any more racing this year, which means that not only am I going to miss the Dublin marathon, I'm also skipping Sixmilebridge, two races that have been absolute fixtures in my diary over the last 5 years! Can't be helped - that Spartathlon was tough.

Someone sent me a list of the "6 toughest races in the world". Apart from the fact MdS is more a trekking holiday rather than a race, I think someone's trying to kill me.

There's only one more thing I'll add about the Spartathlon. The general advice for anyone running it the first time is to only aim at finishing. In 90% of all cases this probably makes total sense but I think it cost me - once I was assured I was going to finish comfortably below the cut-off, I did no longer push as hard as I could have done, and I found it impossible to dig as deep as I know I can. Next time* I'll be more ambitious. I think I had a very similar problem in Turin - I did not have a set target. I don't think it's coincidence that my best race, last year's Belfast, was one where I had a very challenging but clearly defined goal.

12 Oct

5 miles, 42:59, 8:36 pace, HR 143

13 Oct

6 miles, 51:12, 8:32 pace, HR 141

14 Oct

6 miles, 50:52, 8:29 pace, HR 143

15 Oct

8 miles, 1:06:56, 8:22 pace, HR 147

* What next time??? Surely I can't be so stupid as putting myself through that again!

Back In The Ring

This time it was different. After previous long races I really felt like never running again and was glad to rest. But this time I had been feeling like going for a run since at least last Sunday. I did cycle to work once, just to test the legs, and they felt fine. I was waking early every day anyway, which meant I was looking at the ceiling every morning, wondering if the legs had recovered sufficiently to get me through a short run without troubles. On Thursday I decided that the paint pattern had lost its fascination, got dress and ran.

It was, of course, a short as well as a slow run. The same was repeated over the next few days. I haven't gone past 5 miles yet but even so my pace has already picked up a bit while the HR has already started to come down. I'm still only at the very beginning, of course. This is not training yet. I can also tell that some things are still out of whack. The week after the Spartathlon I was just tired, constantly feeling exhausted, but that lifted after a week. Yesterday my legs felt rather sore in the evening, as if I had run 20 miles earlier that day. On Friday I felt pretty crap after the run but on other days I felt much better. A bit of up and down might be in store while the body is still trying to get back into some sort of balance after being knocked sideways just 2 weeks ago, even if it already feels like half a lifetime ago.

As far as I know I did not have any mood swings that usually go with the post-race weeks. Niamh is usually not shy to let me know when I'm becoming a pain to live with, so I guess this time it really was different.

As Sparta starts to fade away into memory the plans for next year are slowly starting to take shape. I want to run a fast marathon in the spring, maybe have a (possibly final but let's not put limits onto anything) go at my marathon PB. I'd also fancy a go at Ballycotton again but only if I feel I will be able to do myself justice. I skipped it last year because I knew I would not be able to get anywhere near my potential but with some speed training during the winter I might be able to whip myself back into shape. As for which marathon to go for, I have not decided yet; I'm thinking about Tralee and/or Manchester and/or Limerick, and then get ready for another 24 hours race, probably Belfast. I want to make the team again for the 2017 world championships and a good performance in 2016 will be required to ensure that. The Spartathlon next year might be too close to Belfast, so that might have to take backseat for a year or two.

I'd love to run Badwater one year. Everyone who ran both seems to say that Spartathlon is harder. I have no idea how a race in one of the hottest environments on the planet during the summer can be easier but I am aware that Badwater is 18 miles shorter and you have 12 hours more to finish. The biggest problem, however, is that I would have to win the lottery first to finance that trip, so it may have to remain a dream. Who knows. Anyway, that definitely won't happen in 2016 even if I hit the jackpot.

8 Oct

5 miles, 45:15, 9:03 pace, HR 142

9 Oct

5 miles, 45:01, 9:00 pace

10 Oct

5 miles, 43:55, 8:44 pace, HR 146

11 Oct

5 miles, 44:25, 8:53 pace, HR 139

Reflections, Once More

I will have one more look back at the Spartathlon before moving on. Since I am still not running, I have nothing else to write about anyway.

I had a look at the intermediate results from the major CPs (the ones with an electronic timing mat). My positions in the race at those points were:

CP   km   place
 4   19   269
11   42   196
22   81   119
28   100  106
35   124   91 (halfway)
47   159   78
52   172   74
60   195   64
69   227   71
75   246   73 (the end)

As you can see, after starting at a very measured pace I gradually worked my way through the field for most of the race. Around CP60 (almost 200k) I was at my best position before gradually sliding back once more. I was still further up the field at the end than I had been at the mountain (CP48 is at the top), though.

Nestani, after the mountain

One thing that struck me when I looked at things more closely was that it took me almost 3 hours to cover the 24 km from 100 to halfway (CP 28 to 35). That's 12:25 pace, almost crawling! I was not aware that I had slowed down so much - I overtook quite a few runners on that stretch and I built up a solid cushion on the cut-offs, so that slow pace came as a surprise. I know this was steadily uphill, which explains some of it, but on the other hand the temperatures dropped back to much more reasonable levels which should have helped. I think my loss of fitness due to lack of training during the summer really caught up with me on that section,. I'm sure there is plenty of room for improvement on those miles alone.

During the post-race celebrations on Monday they showed a video from this year's race. I was totally taken aback by the shots of Katalina Nagy running up the final mountain. I was completely dead on my feet at that point - not only was she running, she was running hard! Unbelievable! I'm not a bad ultra runner but that really drove home the difference between also-runs like myself and the top, top runners.

with the kids of Sparta as our escort

I read on one of the British runners' race report that the temperatures went over 30 degrees on Friday. I don't know if that is true (forecast was 28) but it would not surprise me - it really felt rather hot to someone accustomed to Irish weather and temperatures. However, I can warmly* recommend the hot weather adaptation training I had done in the 2 or 3 weeks beforehand. I could definitely sense that it made a big difference.

The obligatory manhug from Don

One thing that stuck with me is that the race itself was superbly organised but some of the surrounding events were not. The bus transfer from Sparta to our hotel in Gytheio stopped at 5, which doesn't make any sense whatsoever as the race does not even finish until 6. The lunch in Sparta on Sunday was chaotic and the ceremony in Athens on Monday half an hour sooner than stated on their website (and I wasn't the only one who very nearly missed the bus to that one - I'll keep a close eye on their facebook page as well next time**). However, as long as the organisation of the race itself remains as good, I can live with the rest. It is actually amazingly good value. The €450 entry fee includes accommodation, transport and food for an entire week. That is the cheapest holiday in Greece you could ever dream of! And both of our hotels were excellent, the quality of food especially being outstanding (something that could definitely have been improved in Turin).

I weighed myself for the first time on Tuesday morning. Usually I gain a few pounds in the week after a race but my weight is down 3 pounds compared to what it was before we left for Greece. I think something similar happened after Turin. It's not for lack of trying, I sure am not on a diet at the moment and my inner chocoholic is living it large.

I cycled to work for the first time as well this morning, purely to get the legs moving again after what already seems like a long break. I am slowly starting to think about  running again as well. No rush. Probably in a few days.


* excuse the pun
** what am I talking about, what next time??

Slow Recovery

It's now been one week after crossing the finish line touching the toes of Leonidas and I can say that without a shadow of a doubt that race really brought me up to my absolute limits.

Memories

The day after the race my calf muscles were both swollen and the right one was very sore to the touch. I don't know how close I had come to a race-ending injury but something was definitely not right and I was correct to be concerned during the last few miles. That swelling and the soreness went away after 2 or 3 days only to be overshadowed by two grotesquely swollen feet. I've never seen misshapen hobbit feet like that on a human before and instead of getting better it actually got worse, especially on Tuesday, the day we travelled back to Ireland. I guess sitting in the aeroplane did not do my feet any favours, not that it could have been avoided. On Wednesday morning it was back to work and sitting in the office chair for hours wasn't ideal either. Still, after Turin my feet were swollen as well but after 3 days or so everything started going back to normal.  It has been a full week now and the swelling has only just started to recede, still leaving the feet in a bizarre shape. It took until Friday evening that I could finally make out something remotely resembling an ankle.

One toenail on my left foot is dark and may fall off but it had gone the same colour after Turin and still never came off. My left calf is now hurting quite a bit (that's the other one, not the one that had given me troubles in the race) but all I can do is rest. I have no idea when I'll start running again, Right now I still have no desire to hit the road any time soon but going on past experience Niamh will soon kick me out of the house, throw the shoes after me and tell me not to even think about coming back for at least an hour.

Just before the end I felt a sharp pain in my right foot and thought a blister had burst. However, when I inspected the area afterwards there was a blister in exactly that place but it had not burst. It's since healed just fine.

I have been really tired all week and I still have not caught up yet. I am perfectly aware that I have to recover properly before starting training again - anything else and I'm headed straight for burnout and overtraining.

As for the race, of course I am chuffed that I finished it, which was always the main aim. However, there is that little voice in my head that tells me that I did not do myself justice and I should be able to cut a minimum of 2 hours off my time, quite possibly more. Of course I do wonder what I would have been able to achieve had I been able to train through the summer, while at the same realising that it was the previous 11 years of training that got me through, not something I would have done in the last few weeks or even months.

I spoke to Jan Uzik afterwards, who had an absolutely amazing race until he mashed up his feet coming down the mountain. He thinks I should have a sub-30 time in me. That seems a tad ambitious but then again, you should never set yourselves limits, I think I have proven that a few times already.

Thomas K and me are 25 seconds apart in the official timing. Looking at the photos I can see that I stood on the timing mat at the foot of the statue and he stood beside it. It obviously took 25 seconds until he finally happened to step across the mat. I don't care what the timesheet says. We finished together and we touched the statue at exactly the same time and as far as I'm concerned we both finished equal in 73rd position.

Basically we did pretty well for 200k but the last marathon was the one too far. Others fared a lot better. Isobel Wykes, who overtook us right at the start of the climb for mountain number 2, finished in 32:33 - basically she put an entire hour on us over than one marathon. I know Isobel is a class runner but there is definitely room for improvement. Thomas K could have finished at least 10 minutes faster had he gone ahead on his own. Over the last 10k I was definitely holding him back but he refused to go it alone.

This year saw a better than average finisher race of 46%. I think it's mostly down to the fact that they changed the entry criteria so that runners who exceed the qualification mark by 20% get an automatic entry, ensuring a greater percentage of runners of higher quality.

My own automatic qualification mark will still be valid for 2016, so I could avoid the lottery if I ran it again next year. However, next year my main target will be to qualify for the 2017 world championships and for that I need another good 24 hour run, which would in any case renew my automatic qualification (assuming they don't change the criteria).

Spartathlon was my 25th ultra, and obviously the longest as well as toughest.

The Odyssey

Exhausted already

I left the Nemea CP shortly before 9 o'clock. I was now on the second half of the race and took stock. It had taken me just under 14 hours to complete the first half. I was over 2 hours ahead of the cut-offs and I had 22 hours to complete the second half. Even with the mountain, the night and the fatigue of the second day all still to come, surely, surely, SURELY I was going to finish this race. Even with my comfortable cushion the cut-offs were still messing with my head.

I didn't know it at the time but I was now in 91st place, having made my way past three quarters of the field after starting pretty much at the back. Even had I known, I would not have cared. My goal today was to finish, everything else was merely a bonus. I would have been absolutely delighted with a top-100 finish but that really was a very minor concern. Coming DFL in 35:59:59 would have done me just fine, thank you very much.

We crossed a hill towards present-day Nemea but did not enter that town itself. Instead we were led onto a dirt road that led us deep into a very dark valley, with some high mountains looming far ahead of us. What worried me most were the flashes of light I kept seeing in the sky. I knew rain had been forecast but I had heard nothing of thunderstorms. Crossing the mountain in the middle of a thunderstorm was just about the worst nightmare I could imagine - during the Hardrock 100 race this year in Colorado one runner very nearly had been killed when lightning struck very close to him high on a mountain pass. I had no wish to put myself in a similar situation. However, I reckoned since it would still require me several hours to reach the mountain the thunderstorm had plenty of time to blow itself out. I wondered if the lead runners were running right through it right now, though.

still able to run

When being transported back on Sunday we could see that this area was stunningly beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. In the middle of the night, however, this was kept a secret from us. It's a shame, really, that we had to run through those ugly industrial areas near Corinth and Athens in bright daylight while this gem was kept hidden under a veil of darkness. Actually, it wasn't quite as dark any more. The thunderstorm might have been raging further on but I was now running under a clear sky with the almost Full Moon providing plenty of illumination. In Kerry I would have turned off my headlamp under such conditions but here I was afraid I was going to miss a turn if I ran without my own light source. The course marking was still excellent with yellow (in places orange or even pink) markers on the road and a few glow-sticks every now and then showing the way. It really was pretty much idiot proof.

The miles dragged on but I was entirely on autopilot and barely noticed the time passing, just kept putting a foot in front of the other while taking the occasional walk breaks to give the tired leg muscles a rest. I remembered back to my first marathon, almost 11 years ago, when I had to stop running after 18 miles after being hit by some violent cramps and run/walked the final 8 miles into the finish, which I always described as "NOT the most fun I've ever had". Today I had been run/walking since about mile 60, not because of cramps but of exhaustion, which meant a whopping 93 miles of exhausted run/walking was in store, which is on an entirely different level altogether. However, I had never expected this to be easy!

The dirt road meant I was once more getting grit into my shoes and the feet didn't particularly like it, but stopping and shaking out the shoes here would have been pointless, I had to get off that stretch first. Thankfully things were progressing nicely and I was feeling reasonably good, quite in contrast to 2 or 3 runners I was passing, one of which told me that her race was over.

Eddie Gallen

I was just about to run into the village of Malandreni when without any sign of warning my headlamp suddenly went dark. It's a new headlamp that I had bought only 4 weeks ago, specifically for this race, after some recommendations on facebook. My previous headlamp had been a €3.99 job from Aldi that had been entirely sufficient for all of my winter training (and even the Connemara 100) but I did not fancy heading into the mountains in the middle of the night in a foreign country with such a cheap piece of equipment and purchased a supposed quality piece of equipment. However, it meant I was not used to it. My old headlamp would gradually dim once the batteries started draining and there would literally be hours of use left once you noticed the dimness. My fancy new Led Lenser was different: as soon as the battery output dropped the damn thing just shut itself off! I went through shock, confusion, anger and despair in very quick succession, desperately trying to come up with a solution. So far I could not even open the battery compartment, still being unused to the thing. After a minute on the roadside I decided to make my way into Malandreni without extra light, the moon being exceptionally bright and the markers clearly visible even without headlamp. Once in the aid station I sat down, eventually managed to work out the opening mechanism and was ecstatic that it started working again when I took out and re-inserted the batteries, only to be crushed when the light stopped again after 10 seconds. I asked around for spare batteries but had no luck. Eventually I decided to run on regardless. The mountain was still 20k away and maybe some solution would present itself along the way. As long as I was on the road the moonlight was sufficient to keep going and I flashed the light on for a second every time a car appeared, just to make sure the drivers would be aware of my presence (having it on for more than a few seconds would require opening the compartment and re-inserting the batteries to revive it, something I managed to work fairly quickly). The sky was brilliant, but I had a metaphorical dark cloud hanging over me. How would I get over that mountain?

Thomas Klimas

Going deeper and deeper into the valley we passed a succession of pretty villages, Sterna, Lyrkia and Kaparelli, all with their aid stations and street life. It was now past midnight but the race would go on for much, much longer. At each aid station I would ask if they had spare batteries but no luck. One Dutch runner had one spare AAA battery but I required 3 and had to decline. The crew for one of the British runners was a bit rude when I asked, something I could have done without (I guess they were tired, but still!). I passed a lady running rather slowly, eventually recognising her as Sharon Law. She told me she was toast and it had taken her ages to get here from the last aid station. We got into the next CP together and the first thing she told the crew was that she was done, and my assurance that we were over 2 hours ahead of the cut-off cut no ice with her. As they tried to talk her out of it and I was sorely tempted to ask if I could borrow her headlamp but thought the better of it - I moved on while they were still arguing if she should drop. Looking at the results now I can see that unfortunately she did.

myself

Then the climbing started in earnest, but still on road for a good while. We were making our way up the steep serpentines, climbing steadily higher. After feeling very much alone during the last hour or two I don't know where all those runners (ok, walkers on this section) suddenly all came from but there was plenty of action going on. The legs hurt, even when walking and the effort showed. I passed a few runners (walkers - ok, I'll let go) and got passed myself a few times, sometimes by the same people again. We could see the bright lights of the motorway that went on the other slope and eventually, after what felt like at least an hour, the two roads almost converged, with the motorway passing on a bridge overhead and heading for a tunnel and us still climbing higher and higher. Eventually, after an age, we reached the last CP before the mountain, which was seemingly manned by a British ex-pat crew. I sat down and played my last desperate card, asking once more for spare batteries, having pretty much given up all hope. The guy, I think he was the station captain, thought he might have some and sent his daughter to look through a box. I could see her coming back empty-handed and my heart dropped but she went away again and then again once more. I ate or drank something small (I can't remember), wondering if the race was over here and now, or if I should go on regardless. Then, after maybe 10 minutes but what had felt much longer, she returned with an entire packet of spare batteries, and just the kind I needed. I could not believe my luck! I inserted the batteries and lo and behold, I had light again! I could not thank them enough, I was so grateful but I had to go, entirely unexpectedly I was back in business and now I had a job to do. I was about to head further up the road when I was directed to my left instead. My jaw dropped. Oh f*ck! That stony, barely visible mountain path that was heading straight upwards, was our route now. When they said there was no road, they had really meant it!

Brian Ankers

Just to emphasise the task at hand, this mountain pass we were ascending was higher than Carrauntoohil, Ireland's highest mountain! Pheidippides apparently had run into the God Pan here, though the thing I wonder most is how he got over this path without a headlamp in the middle of the night, something I had gotten dangerously close to emulating. As a road runner I did not feel entirely comfortable on this stony path, badly lit with our headlamps. I worried about falling off the mountain because after 100 miles I wasn't entirely steady on my legs any more and I worried about dislodging a stone that might injure a runner further down the mountain (for some reason the idea that I could be hit by a stone from above never crossed my mind). The legs hurt and all you could do was to keep going and ignore the pain. I was just thinking "I would not fancy that in the rain" and 5 seconds later I felt the first drop! Sorry about that, it was clearly my fault. At least there was no sign of any thunderstorm.

Actually, the top came sooner than I expected. I caught up with Eddie Gallen right there. He had gone past me when I had been waiting in the previous CP but my climbing legs had been in better shape apparently. However, once we started the descend on the other side he soon came flying past me and disappeared very quickly.

Would I have attempted the climb without a headlamp? I honestly don't know! When my light started failing I had pushed out that decision for as long as I could and in the end I never had to make it, close thing as it was. In any rational circumstances, would I think that climbing a steep stony path in the middle of the night would be a good idea? Of course not! But at that point, having already covered 100 miles on foot and with a single minded determination to finish this race I may well have decided to risk it. When I told the guy at the CP "you are a lifesaver!", who knows, it might even have been literal! Anyway, it shows that if you're lucky enough you can get away with being a complete and utter idiot.

Brian and his reflection

Anyway, those problems were now behind me and the light was bright and shiny. I did not run on the path down, partially because my shoes did not have much grip and I was sliding barely within control as it was and on three or fours occasion very nearly lost my balance and fell, but also because I did not want to fry my quads. I still had to cover over 50 miles and another mountain range. I eventually got to tarmac again, which marked the end of the mountain section. At Sagkas village, the first CP past the mountain, I was surprised to see Thomas Klimas in there. His 100 mile PB is over an hour faster than mine and I expected him to be way ahead of me. We had a little chat, I left slightly ahead of him but he overtook me not much later. I did not expect to see him again before Sparta.

The next major CP was Nestani and I realised that I really had not thought things through. I had left my second drop bag here so that I would be able to deposit my headlamp instead of having to carry it all the way to Sparta but it was still pitch dark here and would remain so for several hours, so ditching the headlamp was not an option. Instead I picked up a new top, namely my orange club t-shirt that I intended to wear at the finish, and a bottle of my sports drink. I also had another light meal, potatoes, but they were fried and nowhere near as edible as the boiled spuds I have personally made so popular as ultra endurance food in Ireland.

It was now raining heavily. In no time at all the roads were waterlogged and with the difficult lighting conditions I could not see the puddles properly and stepped into several of them, completely soaking my feet. It was not particularly pleasant and greatly increased the risk of bad blisters. So far my feet had held up admirably and I sure hoped that would continue. On one section I could not see a road marker for at least a mile. I was still doing my run/walk thing - can you imagine how hard it is to force yourself to run when you're not sure if you're heading into the right direction and might have to backtrack? I had just told myself "if I don't see a marker very soon I'm going to panic" when, to my intense relief, I spotted the next one.

Heading through the region of Arkadia in the pouring rain just before first dawn was weary work and the miles dragged on but they still passed. At about half past six I got another shock when my light started failing once more! That's when I finally clicked what was going on. My lamp has a mode where it automatically adapts to the external light conditions, and since it was pitch dark the lamp beamed as brightly as possible, thereby eating into the batteries much faster than anticipated. I think it's a design fault because there is no indicator on the lamp itself to show what mode it is in, you have to tell from the behaviour of the lamp itself, and since it was brand new I was not used to it. I never ran long enough in training to drain the batteries and was not aware of the setting. It goes to show the dangers of using very new equipment for such a race, it can catch you out in completely unexpected ways. Thankfully dawn was about to break and I managed a couple of miles even without lamp just fine and then it got bright enough anyway. Jesus, I really had gotten away with that one but I had cut it mightily fine!

The final mountain

I kept calculating in my head what pace I required to make the final cut-off, 15, 16 then 17-minute miles and when I was at 20-minute miles I knew I was going to make it bar injury because even when completely and utterly exhausted I can still walk faster than that, even over the second mountain range. Somewhere around CP56, much to my surprise, I saw Thomas Klimas again, and once more I got ahead of him by leaving quickly. That was not a ploy to pass him - I always tried to minimise my time in those stations. With 75 CPs in the race, even if you average less than a minute per CP you're still wasting over an entire hour. Stay for 5 minutes and you can probably kiss your chances of making the cut-offs good bye. I had done the same in the World championships in Turin where I beat a lot of runners who were nominally faster than me but who spend less time on the road than myself.

However, Thomas quickly caught up again but this time, instead of disappearing beyond the horizon once more, he started running with me and suggested we work together. We were 60k from the finish and I readily agreed. After close to 24 hours of lonely running I welcomed company, and misery clearly loves company.

At first this was working really well. We pushed each other and definitely spent more time running than walking than we would have on our own. We were three hours ahead of the cut-off and save as far as making it to the finish was concerned but we wanted to get this over with and worked fairly hard. The next major CP was at Tegea, just as the next mountain section was about to start, and according to the road book there were meals available there. I was starving and really looking forward to that but when I asked for food all they had were the usual fare of biscuits, crisps and fruit but no "real food". My heart sank, I ate what I could but was mightily sick of the standard fare. I had some soup (not sure if that was here or at a nearby CP) but that contained too few calories to make a difference and I think from here on my energy levels plummeted and never recovered. What did not help was that the road started climbing again.

this is what total exhaustion looks like

The first mountain is tough but it's the second one that breaks you. With 27 miles to go we were overtaken by a strongly running Isobel Wykes who quipped "nearly there". Shocked pause. "I can't believe she just said that, with over a marathon still to go!" Another pause. "For F*ck sake!!!"

In contrast to the other mountain we stayed on a major road for this one and it wasn't pleasant. Some drivers were driving very fast and much too close to comfort to us. "I can't believe nobody ever got killed in this race" said Thomas K, and I agreed. Several parts of the way, including the one we were on just now, did not feel safe.

Every bend in the road revealed nothing but another climb and by now we had stopped pushing each other and just kept moaning and complaining to each other how tired we were and how much this was hurting. We discussed what new hobby we would take up as soon as we would reach Sparta because neither of us was inclined to run another step in our lives again, ever. Too bad neither of us likes fishing.

We could see some lightning right in front of us and the thunder reached us within a few seconds, so this was maybe a mile ahead, much too close for comfort and to make things worse we were heading right into that direction. And indeed, 10 minutes later we were making our way through the pouring rain while watching some lightning strikes right above our heads. This definitely was not safe! The general idea was to get out of here as fast as possible, the only problem being that "fast" was not something either of us was still capable of, so we just kept going, ever so slightly worried, but eventually the rain eased and the lightning stopped and we had made it through!

matching strides

But Good God we were so tired! Somewhere around CP 60 Thomas had managed to sneak a look at the name sheet and saw us in about 63rd place (not entirely sure about the exact number). This was much better than expected and rather pleasing. On this mountain now, however, we were both dead on our feet and quite a few runners had passed us. We caught a few that were in even worse condition ourselves but we were definitely going backwards in the field, not that either of us cared too much. We were far too tired to care.

CP after CP we plonked our bodies into a chair for some time. The idea to get out of CPs as quickly as possible had lost its appeal, we were only living from CP to CP, never thinking further ahead, always groaning in disapproval when the sign noted the distance to the next CP being more than 3 km. At one CP a lady asked "what do you want" and all I could come up with was "I want to go home". My God, this was pathetic!

Eventually, after a long slog of several hours, the road pointed downwards and we could count the number of remaining CPs on one hand. "To the next sign" became the new mantra , which was as far as we would run before walking again, and the process was repeated countless times and progress was almost reasonable. We had lost a little bit of time with regards to the cut offs and were generally about 2:45 ahead at most CPs. I had thought that the cut offs were fairly easy at this stage but had forgotten to take the total exhaustion into account that would hit the runners on this final section. I was glad we had such a comfortable cushion; being only one hour ahead would have completely wrecked my nerves.

At one CP a lady told us "it's all downhill from here, no more climbing", which was great news. Alas, we went along for maybe a mile, turned the next corner and "you've got to be f*cking kidding me!!!", the lady had been lying, that definitely looked and felt like another climb to me. Thankfully, this one really was the last one.

Photo by Nikos Lamprinopoulos

A good thing too, because I was having real troubles with my right calf muscle. It had gotten really painful over that last couple of hours. This was not normal fatigue, there was something else going on and I really worried about an injury taking me out of the race so late, which would have been utterly heartbreaking. I told Thomas that it was really bad and that I did not dare to run on it any more in case I would injure it. He had the option of going alone and I would not have thought any less of him but he refused to leave me on my own and agreed to walk the last 10k or so into Sparta. What a friend to have!

The rain had completely stopped by now and it actually got quite hot again. We were glad it had not been like that all day. Running in the rain is something we can both cope with easily but a second day of heat and humidity might have been too much to take, who knows.

At one point we could see Sparta for the first time. It looked absolutely beautiful, what a stunning setting, but it also looked still very, very far away. The race course still has one more minor sting by leaving the national road and taking a slightly longer route, though getting off that road was definitely a positive development. The last CPs passed by reasonably quickly but two 4.7 km sections both elicited further groans and complaints. The last marathon must have taken us about 6 hours. I never thought I'd ever move so slowly!

And then there were only a few kilometres to go and Sparta was right there! Thomas' hip started hurting and he had troubles walking while I still barely dared to run but was able to walks at a good pace so he would run slowly and I would walk fast and we still averaged the same pace. Under the bridge (unfortunately the "welcome to Sparta" banner was not on this year), over the bridge crossing the river and into Sparta itself. CP 74, the final CP was right here. (CP 75 is the finish itself)

Photo by Nikos Lamprinopoulos

"This Is Sparta!!" Did the guy make the same joke to every runner? Quite possibly, but it did elicit a smile from me, and there was not much that would have made me smile at that point! The last section is different. People are shouting at us from the balconies "bravo! bravo!", kids are cycling with us (I was actually worried they'd get hit by a car, That would have put a dampener on things). We could not see any markers but reckoned that those people cheering us on would let us know if we were headed into the wrong direction. Then a right turn, and not long after another right turn and the flags betray the proximity of the finish. A minute ago I had said to Thomas K "I don't know if I'll be able to run at the finish but I promise I will try". Turns out I did not even have to try.

Seeing the statue of Leonidas at the top of the hill is the most potent painkiller known to mankind. Pain, what pain? I have never felt better! We ran up the road, half of Sparta cheering us on, shouting more bravos. It is the best finish in the world! Nothing has ever even been close to that. I can't even begin to describe it. You'll have to see for yourself.

Niamh was there, time for a quick hug and a kiss and then on to the statue. Your race is officially finished when you touch the statue of King Leonidas and Thomas and me held hands as we touched his feet at the same time. This is Sparta indeed!

For the next 90 seconds we were at the centre of hero worship. We received a gift each from one of the local children, as well as a medal and a trophy. They put an olive wreath on our heads and we took in the acclaim of the crowd once more before the next runner appeared and it was his turn to be celebrated.

Pain? I felt no pain. There was no pain, just pure joy and euphoria, a solid 11 out of a scale from 1 to 10. As someone else has said "I don't need to tell you just how much it means to finish this race. When you get there, you'll know"

Don't tell anyone but ... I can't wait to do it again!

25 and 26 Sep

Spartathlon 2015

33:29:04, 73rd place

All photos by Sparta Photography club, unless otherwise stated.