A first DNF and decision time

I kind of give it away in the title here, but this weekend did not pan out as any of us would have wanted. This time we made it to Ambleside with plenty of time and I was able to go to the evening talks which were about nutrition (food for thought - my diet is a bit tragic at present) and two accounts from experienced UTLD runners - one from a middle pack runner and one from last year's 100 winner. It was all good, interesting stuff and I left feeling inspired and back in-touch with my own summer experiences of the 50. I didn't have the best night's sleep, but then I rarely do before a big event/run.

In the morning, we made it to the coach in good time (clearly all this punctuality should have given me the heads up that this wasn't a normal weekend for us!). And it was great to take Benny on to the bus (a completely alien, and potentially stressful, environment to him) and see him take to it like a seasoned traveller; he hopped up on to the window seat and sat, looking proudly at all the other runners as they got on, earning himself lots of compliments and fuss (he's such a tart sometimes). During the journey, he soon settled into a snooze across my lap and only became fidgety after about 45 minutes (which I made worse by trying to put his Paw Wax on - not his favourite thing).

We arrived in Pooley Bridge shortly after 9am and pretty much headed straight out on to the course. It was such a glorious spring day - bright sunshine, clear blue skies and a cool breeze. The scenery was, as ever, beautiful and breathtaking and we couldn't have asked for better running conditions. As we pottered up the first incline another runner called me by my RW forum name and came up alongside me. We ran together for a while and were soon joined by fellow forumite and blogger, Collie Dave (with his running partner, a stunning collie called Charlie). Charlie can be a bit uneasy around other dogs, so Benny and I went ahead a bit and began to find a comfortable stride. On reflection, though we were moving at a great pace (around 10-11 minute miles) I could already feel bits that weren't quite right; my foot was a bit sore, my legs felt a little stiff - but I thought I'd just run these niggles off as this is often the case when the training miles have been lacking.

It was quite a moment to emerge by Howtown (the first checkpoint on the 50 course, which wasn't in use for the recce); I remembered so clearly my feelings at reaching it back in July, hot, sweaty and a bit bemused, unsure whether I was going to make it round the course. This April morning I felt so much more alive and strong and it felt good to turn away from it and head towards the mighty Fusedale - the climb that had so nearly broken me last year.

As we headed up the first part of the hill, I began to feel the soreness in my heel worsen (where I had taken the full impact of the mobile bookcase, two weeks earlier, and where I still have a rather uncomfortable lumpy bruise). I guess the change in incline meant that gravity was having a greater effect on that part of my foot. We also encountered our first loose sheep. To give him his due, Benny was responsive to my calls to "leave" and I did a good deal of food-based distraction training.
In the midst of our sheep experiences, Dave and Charlie caught us up and passed us after a brief chat; the difference in the two dogs and their interest in the livestock, was apparent. But once we had negotiated the sheep-shaped obstacles, the climb intensified and we slowed to a stilted, heavy potter. I could see that Dave had let Charlie off-lead up ahead, making it easier for them both to navigate the challenging terrain, but I knew I couldn't do the same with Benny; he would just turn tail and return to the sheep at the bottom of the hill. So we soldiered, slowly on.
At the plateau, I showed Benny a small beck where he could drink and cool down and I looked back down the valley, remembering clearly my feelings back in the summer - this had been my breaking point, my moment of biggest doubt. Then, I had taken a good few minutes before deciding to at least reach the top before possibly giving up, but this time, I was already keen to march on to the summit of High Kop (where I knew there was a good resting point where we could take on a bit of food and admire the views).
Once there, I sat in the exact same spot I had sat in the summer, my turning point then (which ironically, became my turning point this time too). As I sat, I felt something in my lower back and right hip wasn't right; it was tight and sore and on the edge of going into spasm as I tried to stand up. But I pushed the worry to the back of my mind and started off across the moor.

A group of runners had caught up with me that I knew from the last recce and the summer; one of them, Andy, had been our tent neighbour in the school field in Coniston, and it was good to have someone to chat with for a while. We exchanged news and talked of our plans for the future as we walked while recovering from the climb. When Andy decided it was time for him to run on, I tried a few steps and knew then I really was in trouble. I waved him on and tried stretching my right-side out as my hip flexors began to spasm in earnest. I tried to maintain a slow jog that kept me in touch with the group ahead, but I could feel that things were not settling down at all and even Benny's gentle nudges and enthusiasm were not making it better.

It was the descent alongside Fusedale Beck towards Haweswater that really broke me; steep, rocky and twisting (partly because I had missed the proper track and was having to make use of sheep trails to pick up the right course - oops). But even when on the right path, Benny and I were just not working well together - he needed to go faster than I could manage, not just because I was sore, but to descend safely I was going slower than normal to counteract his pulling. I think this finished my back and hips for good, pulling my pelvis out of alignment and making my quads work harder than necessary. I took a few jarring slips too, all on my right side and that set my right knee off (which to add to the joy is my weakest leg joint, since it took the full force of a motorcycle crash when I was a foolish seventeen year old).

By the time we reached the (flattish) trail around Haweswater, I knew I was done in - we had slowed to 20-30 minute miles and I couldn't pick up the speed in any shape or form. Walkers and runners were catching us and overtaking us and I could barely manage a smile or hello as they yomped past.
The Haweswater section is a bit of a pig; it is five times longer than you imagine! When you reach the lake, mentally you are at the checkpoint, but you have to keep going over a rocky, undulating trail for another 5-6K, eventually seeing the checkpoint van, only to have to turn away from it and dog-leg round the head of the lake to double back on yourself to actually reach it - such cruel torture.

Stumbling towards the minibus at Mardale, giving my name and then having to admit I thought I might have to drop out to the organiser was awful; I was embarrassed, angry and in pain - not a good combination. I took a couple of ibuprofen, stretched bits that hurt and contemplated carrying on. But what would that have achieved? The climbs I thought I could cope with, but the idea of trying to manage Benny pulling on the harness down the boulder path descents I knew would be awful for both of us. It took over two hours for us to be shipped back to Ambleside. I cannot thank the organisers and my fellow drop-out (an exhausted and ill runner from a local club) enough for being so kind, supportive and getting us back in relatively good spirits.
But I already knew where this experience was leading me; Benny and I can't do the 50 together. It would not be wise to head out on such an awesome challenge when the very fact we are tethered together would make us unsafe; the descents are too technical for us at this point of our partnership, and I cannot trust him to be safe around livestock.

As for what we can do together, in fact, what I should be doing myself as a runner - well that is not known at this point in time. I'm deflated and sore - I need to recover, rethink and reorganise. Meanwhile, I need to embrace the positives; we have a healthy, happy dog who is full of energy and very loving. He's come a long way, (maybe not in miles!), but we're very lucky to have found him and have him in our lives.

Make or break time...

The good news is that over the last few days I've been able to get a couple of runs in, both with Benny. Of course, there was a distinct lack of speed involved, but it was fun to be back out there, especially with my four-pawed companion.

So, in half an hour we are heading back to the Lakes (and yes, I have packed my trainers this time) and tomorrow, Benny and I will be attempting the first 30 miles of the 50 course.

I have absolutely no idea how we are going to fare. Benny has become far too interested in livestock recently, and if I cannot keep him on task, then I'm afraid our ultra running partnership will be over before it's really begun. And that is before we add in the previous unknowns of coping with terrain, distance...

Wonderful husband will be driving to each checkpoint tomorrow, so if I need to hand over Benny (or even drop out myself) then we can do so without inconveniencing the organisers. So all that is left to do is check over the kit (again) and keep everything crossed for a successful day tomorrow... :o)

Three Months and how the wheels (legs?) fell off...

So, January was when I last blogged. Oops. What has happened in three months? Literally everything and nothing; I gained my coach and began to run with the speed I had talked about, but then I had to go away with the school ski trip (over half term) and in one foul swoop denied myself rest and got ill. I picked up a cold on the trip, that led to a secondary infection and then a chest infection, then just as I was finding my feet again a couple of weeks ago I managed to injure my foot with a mobile bookcase (don’t ask).

And now I find myself on the verge of so much soul searching...

What is right for me and my running? What is right for me and Benny? Where do I go from here?

I am struggling to reconcile one too many things and feeling the pressure. Time to have a rethink.

A house full of winners

There comes a point in most ventures where you just have to know when to quit. With running the temptation to give up is never far from your mind, that little voice that whispers in your ear, "You've done enough or this is too hard or this hurts or stop now and it'll all be over..."
I've not yet had that voice convince me that that is the correct course of action during a race, though I've been close. However, the voice has persuaded me not to turn up on the start line several times, and that is usually when it is the voice of reason and all-round sensibleness (when competing would be putting me at risk of longer term injury). And it has persuaded me not to step out the front door on a training run, but that is when it is the voice of sloth and general laziness more than anything else.
But I hear the voice at other times, in relation to things other than running too, and today was one of those occasions.
The RSPCA competition for Rescue Animal of the Year ran for much longer than anticipated due to website issues at their end. At the original closing date, Benny was well in the lead. There had been a strong challenge for votes from a lovely little rabbit called Ken, but when I had put the call out in the Runnersworld virtual world, where I chat to many like-minded souls who had been following our story with interest for several months, they had joined the voting cause. However, on the eve of the extended closing date there was a sudden surge of overnight voting for Ben the cat and then the RSPCA site went offline again. Over the weekend, the runners rallied and spread the word to restore Bear's lead, but there was one final overnight voting deluge that took Ben into first place this morning.
I knew I could ask the runners for a third time to push Benny back into first place, but we decided enough was enough; the time had come to quit.

However, the Runnersworld community were to surprise us again this evening. Every year the parent magazine of the online forums, Runners World, run a competition to win a place in a spring marathon (it had been London, but they had changed to Paris for the last couple of years) where the winners gain goodies from the sponsors, travel and accommodation to the event and online coaching with occasional training weekends from respected coaches and support teams. Last year, the regular forum contributors decided to run an unofficial, parallel competition for peer-to-peer mentoring (there were lots of political reasons for this, which I won't go into here) and the six forum winners, though they didn't get any branded goodies, met with considerable success with their training and marathon running last season. So, like last year, when the forum competition opened, I entered. And tonight, I found out that I had won!

I am yet to make official contact with my mentor/coach, but it means I'm going to have a "proper" training plan! I will finally have to confront my lazy approach to long, slow miles and, as I have said several times already, get my bottom out the door to face up to some speed work.
The great thing is that this plan should be tailored to my off road running and mine and Benny's challenge events this year.
It looks like Team Benny just gained a new member  - I wonder if he has any idea what he has let himself in for by taking us on?