w/e 18/4/10 - Out Here Life Is At Its Essence

Our here life is at its essence,
and watches the world with innocent eyes;
far from grime, far from rushing people,
it seems that I have found a tiny peace

I've managed to get through 44 years of my life without ever doing a 50 mile event. Or indeed, for that matter, having felt the need to do one!! The furthest events I've done in the past have been the Calderdale Hike, at 37 miles, and the Old County Tops, which weighs in at about 36. Mind you, on last year's failed BG attempt, I did manage around 56 miles, but it doesn't really count because I didn't finish!

So, when we were perusing the calendar for spring training, taking into account both my requirements and Kirsten's need for long days ready for the 100, the Woldsman 50 jumped out at us from the page.

Just the right timing for K, coming as it does only a few weeks before the end of her training and start of tapering. Just the right timing for me, to act as some kind of a marker as to how the physical and, even more importantly, mental side of my training was getting on.

And make no mistake, with not much ascent on the route, the Woldsman was as much, if not more, of a test of mental strength to keep going. There was a lot of running....and I'm not used to it!! The muscles are now trained to deal with walking up hills and then letting gravity guide me down them. They're not at all attuned to shuffling along for 50 miles on gentle gradients. I thought the days of DOMS were over! But sure enough, this event got me........

So off we drove on Friday evening, heading east, bound for Driffield. As we neared the area, we were both perturbed by just how flat and dull it looked...we had visions of a tough, uninspiring day. Anyway, we set up camp on the showground, popped into a local pub (a very strange place...webbed feet and six fingers!), then settled down for a chilly night, with ice on the inside of the tent in the morning.

Up nice and early, and ready for the off at 8am. Already the sun was up, and there was the promise of a long, warm day. The first part of the route was relatively gentle, and I settled in with a few others at a fairly brisk pace. A nice chat with Steve the BG hopeful passed some miles, and soon enough, we were passing through checkpoints, stopping briefly to nibble some goodies.

After a fairly dull start, the route headed into beautiful dales and valleys, with lovely countryside to look out at. The only downside was that the going was either tarmac/gravel roads or hard-baked solid mud...ouch! But there were some real highlights on that first half, including the deserted medieval village of Wharram Percy.

The pace was still good, and I trotted down the hill and into the halfway checkpoint in 4.08...which seemed a tad fast if I'm honest! And I was just starting to have a bad patch. With the marathon distance covered in 4.19 (how DO people take 5+ hours to "run" a marathon?!?!?), I suddenly felt a bit the worse for wear....tiredness creeping in, a slight headache and phantom pains in my achilles.

But I soldiered on the checkpoint at the scout hut, where I sat for a few minutes, had a gel and then (whisper it) took some ibuprofen. Fifteen minutes later....I felt on top of the world (on top of the Wold?!). Suddenly running was easier again, the pains had gone. Just as well really, as we headed towards the only real climbs of the day....and what a relief they were!! It was noticeable how I left others behind going up the hills, but they caught me on the flatter bits.

The gel and the pills carried me through to around 40 miles, when the accumulated damage to my joints and muscles started to kick in. But I pushed on, playing games counting down the distance, and calculating the possibility of a sub-10 hour finish. It was also helped by running with Neil from Ilkley for a while, a smashing guy.

The long, flat tarmac then gravel section to the 46 mile checkpoint was enough to break anybody! I somehow managed to keep shuffling, and with 4 miles to go, I had over 55 miles to get under the 10 hour marker.

On that last stretch, I was joined by a young lad, running with no kit bag, in t-shirt and shorts carrying only a water bottle in his hand, who was well out of it. He had no idea where he was and kept asking me which way to go. Hmmm....I know it was a warm day, and I know we weren't in the high fells, but it still grates that some people rely on others for their safety and navigation.

Anyway, with the odd walking break now, I shuffled along, back through the park and into the welcome sight of the showground. Back into the hut, and a decent finish time of 9h 45mins....relatively pleased with that!

I slumped into a chair...then immediately had to go outside as the world spun and sickness threatened! 15 mins outside, and a milkshake sunk almost in one, and I was able to go back in and face some food....lots of it in fact!!! A nice chat with Neil, then Steve when he came in, then I waited for Kirsten........who of course exceeded expectations, and knocked over an hour off her Norfolk 50 time, to come home in a marvellous 11hr 41mins....fantastic again!!

So, reflections....well 50 miles to me was quite daunting, despite Kirsten taking it in her stride and having no nerves! But, in fact, I handled it better mentally on the day than I could have hoped, adopting an "every step forward is one step nearer the finish" approach whenever I felt tired. If I can adopt that come BG day, that will stand me in good stead.

The legs have been trashed though! That's because of the running, and the hard surface. I'm used to neither. I was a sorry sight on Sunday....which at least gave K a good laugh!! But I'm recovering now, and shortly heading off to the Lakes, for a recce of Saturday's TWA.....now THAT is daunting :-)

For the record, I only had one other run in the week, partly 'cause I wanted to be tapered for the 50 miler, partly 'cause I was taking it easy after the previous weekend, and coaxing the achilles into recovering.

So, totals for the week - 57mls & 4,500ft

And for anyone else who's got to my age, but never done a 50-mile event, I'd just say this:

You're never too Wold! ;-)