Monday, 4 May 2015

Salomon Fellraisers

In an arse about backwards sort of way I thought I'd review my Salomon Fellraisers as I hang them up for now and switch to another make and model.  I've really enjoyed running in these shoes, they have served me well on so many levels and I will be continuing to run in them often I'm sure.

Ever since I started running off road and looked at getting a pair of trail shoes the Salomon range appealed. On several occasions I had slipped my feet enthuastically into the brightly coloured saw toothed monsters that are the Salomon speedcross, hoping each time that last time I was wrong and that they really did fit, but alas, it wasn't to be. Too narrow at the front and with far too much heel at the back I just couldn't get on with them.

Then along came the Fellraiser, not the best looking shoe if I'm honest about it, something about their shape initally made me think "Clarks" but put them on and oh wow what a difference. Much more room up front but snug fitting everywhere else - glove like in fact - and with a significantly lower profile (the Fellraisers heel-toe drop is 6mm), these immediately felt like a shoe I could get on with.

That sensible exterior is made up of a sort of plasticy faux leather which looked pretty hard wearing with mesh in between for good drainage.  Underneath the sole is almost identical to the Speedcross; that aggressive chevron pattern covering the whole shoe.

The speed laces work well - although I know not everyone is a fan - holding my foot securely and with no slipage around the heel. Despite being pretty low profile they actually feel pretty well cushioned, helped to this in part by the Orthofit insole.

Out on the trail the Fellraiser performs well in almost all coditions, wet grass, mud and loose ground are no match for the Salomon sole...the only weak point being in crossing wet rocks where the grip is not that reassuring. This in part can be put down to the agressively lugged sole but I think the rubber compound also contributes, being quite hard and so not too grippy. On the coast path though for the most part I feel confident in the placements I am making. The close fit also makes a meal of even the most technical ground.

What has really impressed me is their durability. That hard rubber compound has lasted well, the lugs still effective after a year of solid use and the upper looks good as new. So new in fact that, having bought a second pair I was having difficulty telling the old and the new ones apart! I retired my first pair after over 600 miles and really they were still going strong, but feeling a little like the cushioning was starting to go under my forefoot.  I've run on all surfaces and completed various ditances up to 100k with rarely even a blister to show for it. I'm a fan, you might have noticed.

Ultimately for summer use I have decided to use a slightly less agressively lugged, more cushioned shoe (more on this soon), but the Fellraisers will still be my go to shoe for winter and wet weather trail running. Salomon have not done anything noticable to "improve" them this year - although the new colours are, in my opinion, pretty dire - so hopefully they still size up pretty much the same and will continue to do so in future.



Friday, 27 February 2015

On the Arc of Attrition


On 6th February the inaugural Arc of Attrition was held on the coast path in Cornwall. 100 miles, from Coverack to Porthtowan, along the coast path. Billed as the South West's toughest foot race - and few would argue - this was going to be an amazing event.






I'd briefly thought about entering but my ongoing Achilles issues meant there was no way I would be fit enough so I was spared the decision.

Instead I decided to film the race.



I can't tell you what it felt like to stand on the start line with all that distance laid out in front of me.
I can't explain how it felt to head off into the evening on that Friday, or what I was thinking as the light soon faded.
I have no idea how it must have felt at 3am, navigating the coast path and knowing that I'd still be running at 3am tomorrow.
I didn't emerge on tired legs into the daylight and feel the first rays of the sun begin to breath energy back into my body, nor do I know how long that next day must have felt.
I can only start to imagine the feelings that would have flooded through me as the sun dipped down below the horizon at my back, while ahead there were still miles to go.
What that second freezing night had in store for those still out there only they can tell.





What I do know though, is that this was another triumph from Mud Crew. Organising a race such as
this must be a logistical nightmare. The check points were professionally run and stocked with all manner of goodies, from pasties and soup to cake and hot drinks. That they were all in pubs was an additional comfort.

The online tracking allowed a military precision to the event and meant everyone was kept safe throughout.

The following week saw many on social media echoing what I've just said, that this was a brilliant, if brutal event.









 For my part I did find out how cold it gets trying to sleep in a car when it's -5 outside. In fact it was impossible and I gave up after half an hour. I'd love to thank whoever the lovely lady was at Mousehole that gave me a bowl of soup and a thick slice of bread when I got there, it really perked me up. I also found out just how spread out the runners would become in the space of twelve hours. By the time the first runner was through lands end I had set up a little camp on the hill above Sennen, in three and a half hours I saw about twelve runners. Lastly I learnt that freezing cold temps and constant video rather than photography destorys batteries; consequently I had to rush hom and recharge things half way through the morning which really cut down on how much filming I could do. chalk that one up to experience. On the whole though I had it easy compared to the runners, their crews and the marshalls.

Last time I followed an ultra throughout its length (photographing the Plague in 2012) I ended up entering the next year. Not sure about this one. I think this year they were lucky, the weather can't be that good again and who knows what it would have been like in torrential rain? Still never say never...


If you are one of the few people I haven't yet nagged into watching the film then its here for your viewing pleasure:


The Arc of Attrition from Andrew Benham on Vimeo.



Friday, 16 January 2015

Kinetic Revolution 30 day challenge

During November & December last year I took part in the Thirty Day Challenge, a free online set of training drills aimed at improving your running. Ultimately I failed the challenge which is why I have hesitated to write anything about it. Over the last few weeks though I've come to realise that I still gained a lot from it and will soon be repeating it to see how I get on second time around.

I've followed the James Dunne and his Kinetic Revolution webiste on twitter for a while now and read many of his articles, watched videos and so on; the thirty day challenge has routinely popped up in my in box inviting me to take it on and "Run stonger - Run faster". So with the long drawn out process of trying to rehab my achilles preventing me from putting in any serious mileage and a realisation that I needed to build myself back up to fitness slowly and methodically, taking advantage of this moment in time to actually do some cross training and strength work seemed a no brainer. I'm no athlete, I generally follow a fairly well structured plan when training for a race, but all the other stuff like eating properly, staying off the beer and hitting the gym are less evident in my preparations. Perhaps that is why I'm injured? I'm also under no illusions, running needs to be fun, I'm not in contention for any kind of podium place, even in my age group, so there's no reason to get too excited about it all.  That said I do want to be as good as I can be and I definately want to get stronger and prevent further injury.

The course is divided into 6 sections of 6 days. Each section concentrates on a particular aspect, aiming to increase flexibility and strength and concentrating largely on the hips.

The first section felt easy enough and really lured me into a false sense of security with some easy but unflattering balance and stretching routines - when someone walks in on you doing the abductor stretch you'll know what I mean!

Section two was more about strength - some of these involved an element of balance - the single leg dead lift for instance - and revealed to me some serious weaknesses, especially on my left leg.

In the thrid section there was more stretching - I found areas within my hips I never knew about - and some basic plyometrics - hopping on one leg for instance. The latter part worried me as my achilles seemed to feel it more than I'd like but there seemed not to be any lasting effects.

Section four was resistance band work - oh good a nice easing in difficulty. Err.. no. Actually found this really hard and although I was familiar with some of these exercises they really worked me hard. James has created a series of alternatives for anyone unable to get their hands on a resistance band so there are no excuses!

Finally came section five - here the routines were all running drills concentrating on form, and it is here where things fell apart I'm afraid. My achilles to flared up a bit (delayed onset from the plyometrics or just bad luck?) and this combined with the advent (sorry) of Christmas, meant I missed the last few days.

I've read a lot of comments from people who have done the course saying they set a PB during or straight after; this wasn't the case for me, though no surprises there as I am still rehabbing my achilles. Over the last few weeks though I've noticed that I keep accidentally running too fast! My easy pace over 6 miles has increased and on some harder efforts I've found myself going much quicker than I had intended. Now there is too much at play to point purely to this course but I'm certainly very aware of the way I drive my hips back now.

I found out a lot over the month I was doing the challenge: my balance, especially when moving my centre of gravity, is appalling and needs work; my hips flexors are weak and my left leg is especially lazy (I knew this already but this course really underlined it).

James obviously wants us to be inspired by his free coaching to sign up for some paid stuff - asking us to unlock our "free speed". For now I'm going to repeat these exercises until they don't feel like they are killing me and hopefully next time around I'll get to the end of the course.

Here's the link for anyone who is interested: http://www.kinetic-revolution.com/30daychallenge/


Friday, 28 November 2014

Like the Wind

I've just finished reading the 3rd issue of Like the Wind magazine and I thought I'd share the news: this is a magazine with a difference!


I met Simon & Julie Freeman, the brains behind this publication, at the Trail Team selection weekend in the Lake district earlier this year. I must admit when they showed us the magazine I was put off by the price. At £8 it seems like a lot of money.  It took a couple of issues and the accolades of many people online for me to get over myself and buy a copy.


The thing is though this is not your average magazine. Produced on thick, reclycled paper, beautifully illustrated and with not a single advert in a hundred pages, this is a collection of stories, varied in content and style but with a common theme; a love of running.

The variety is impressive, from charity runners competing in fancy dress, to historical pieces on the characters of our sport, poems, opinions on the nature of addiction and one or two star entries: a short piece including a recipe for cinammon buns from none other than Emelie Forsberg and an interview with Killian Jornet by Ian Corless.

Each article is illustrated or accompanied by wonderfully evocative photographs and just long enough to sit over with a cup of coffee.


What you won't find, in addition to the adverts, are those pointless, how to be a better runner in a weekend style recipes for success the more standard magazines are full of. The emphasis here is on quality writing and its a joy to read. And as for the price? Well bear in mind the feature rich content, there is no fluff, just a hundred pages of words and pictures. And the fact that this is a quarterly edition, so a year long subscription is £40 including the postage. 

I think this represents the future of print media; niche markets, quality products, something tactile and lasting that you will want to keep on the coffee table or bookcase.

So am I converted? Well if you hadn't already got that from my comments above lets just say I'll be adding a yearly subscription to my Christmas list this year and leave it at that.


Wednesday, 19 November 2014

Injury reframed

Following on from my previous post I thought I should give an update on my ongoing achilles injury. Last week I visited a new physio - Paul Coker at the Treatment Centre in Truro. What makes Paul different from previous physios is that he is also an ultra runner which has to be a good thing.

We spent a good bit of time going over my history and when we got to the part where I mentioned my climbing accident and subsequent smashed up Calcaneous on the other (left) leg, Paul seemed convinced that this was where the problem was.

So here's the theory, broken and deformed Calcaneous, lack of movement & flexibility in certain planes of motion, significantly less strength in the left leg overall (Paul measured my calfs and I was surprised how different they were); all adding up to a leg that was not pulling its weight. The right leg therefore has to do a lot more work and probably impacts the ground harder, especially as I tire on longer runs, eventually causing the injury to my achilles.

There followed some massage to my injured leg performed with a kind of metal knuckle duster and without doubt the most painful massage I have ever received! What was really positive though was that in fact I should not be resting but continuing to run, albeit at reduced intensity for now. I have had a feeling, and Paul confirmed this, that the weeks off had made things worse, not better.  I am to continue with the eccentric heel drops but adding weight to make them harder.

For my left leg I need to work on the part of the muscle that prevents me standing right up on tip toe, currently I can only get up about half way as far on my left leg as my right. This I had assumed was a mechanical limitation I was stuck with but Paul thinks I can improve it: I have to hold myself in position for as long as I can, using as much assistance as necessary to stop my heel from dropping. Eventually once I can do this I will extend the exercise to full calf lifts but I'm a way off that right now.  Paul also thinks I can get some of the range of motion back - I currently can't turn my foot in fully. He thinks rather than a bone on bone limitation post-op this is all down to tightened tendons running down the front of my leg so I have some instructions - including a foam roller and pushing my foot into position - to get this mobility back.

And as for running, its ok for it to hurt! Paul asked me to judge my efforts on how sore I am after rather than during my runs, and this is the best news I could have! Its funny how a little confidence boost like this can make so much difference. I was running previously and wincing at every twinge I felt in my achilles. This weekend I ran free of the fear that I was damaging my foot, happy that in fact I was doing it some good - and the next day: no pain. So next weekend my long run will be just that little bit longer!

Its going to be a while before I am fully fit but mentally I am in a much better place and I'm sure I'm on the right track. Watch this space.

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Identity crisis

It took a long time for me to call myself a runner. I ran but I wasn't really a runner. It wasn't until I completed my first marathon that I started to think of myself that way. Not because of the distance, that was unimportant; but it took something as big as that for me to change the way I ran. Up until then I just ran. Two or three times a week, usually a bit longer at the weekend.

In training for the marathon though I needed to follow a plan. Except I didn't do plans, I was all about spontaneity, right? Well, wrong as it happens. In fact I enjoyed following a plan, it took the uncertainty out of things. If the plan said intervals, I ran intervals, if it said hills I ran hills. Easy. And so the training became automatic and I began, slowly, to evolve; over time the act of doing transformed into a state of being; I became a runner.

So what does a runner do when they can no longer run? When the act which defines them can no longer be practised. These last few weeks, months even, I've been out of action with Achilles problems. As the weeks ran into months I started to doubt I could recover. I found this so frustrating, to have trained so hard and come to a new level of fitness only to be laid low, the strength draining from my legs with every day that passed. In my darkest moments I wondered whether I would look back in ten years time on these last two years as a blip, that brief moment in time when I was fit and could do amazing things.

Of course I will recover, I am already on the mend as it happens but it got me thinking, what happens when, as will be the case for us all, I can no longer run or climb, how will that feel; how will I cope with that? I need to work on my patience, that's for sure, or I'm going to have a sad few years stored up in the future. I have to learn to enjoy all the parts of my life equally, take a lay off due to injury as an opportunity to get things done - the little things that slip when everything revolves around training, to revel in a lie in or a lazy lunch break. Time, for now at least, will heal all ills and soon enough I'll be fighting fit and training hard.



Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Surviving the Plague

This weekend was the 2014 Mud Crew Roseland August Trail - the RAT - and this year I had entered the Plague distance.  To explain: there are four distances on offer - the black, red & white routes, 32, 20 & 11 miles respectively, are linear courses traversing the Cornish coast path along the Roseland peninsular. Depending on your choice of distance you will be taken by bus to the relevant start point and run back to the start. For the really stupid few though a bus would not be necessary. Those of us signed up to the plague would start from the finish and run, overnight, to St Anthony's head, turn around and run back. A total of 64 miles along some of the most brutal and unforgiving terrain the coast path has to offer.

This year Hannah and the girls were joining me - one of the great things about the RAT is that the finish line is also a camp site complete with a bar, food stalls, etc. On the Saturday night there would also be live music. This makes the whole thing like a mini festival for trail runners. 

I spent Friday trying to do as little as possible and even managed to get an hour or two's sleep in the afternoon before we headed up to Porthpean and pitched our tent. We grabbed some food and I got myself registered. There was a talk from star ultra runner and friend of Mud Crew Mimi Anderson, though the children were keeping me busy so unfortunately I missed this. Before long it was time to settle down again and try to sleep. This time I wasn't so lucky, with all the activity going on outside and my mind racing I was wide awake, but at least I was resting. Bronwen & Jenna wanted to see me off but by the time I was heading out to the pre-race briefing they were fast asleep so I said goodbye to Hannah and headed out into the night. I would see them again in the morning, by which time I would be on my way back.

At the briefing

The race briefing revealed to us that each marshal on the course had run at least one 100 mile event and would therefore know exactly what we were dealing with. This was very re-assuring and just another example of the many little touches that make Mud Crew events so good. We each were provided with a puke green "Victim" vest to identify us "plaguers" from the other distances - for our own safety as much as anything - and were all given a glow stick to be worn on our packs for the duration of the night portion of the run.

Then we filed out to the start line and waited for the off. Mimi was given the honours of sending us on our way - as soon as we were off we were stopped though - a narrow path past the toilet block combined with a style meant we all queued up to get going. Still no worries, it was going to be a long night!

Ready for the off

The first 4 miles to Pentewan are probably the most testing of the whole course with numerous steep climbs and many steps. They are also very narrow paths and once in a line there are not many opportunities to pass. Although I was at pains to keep things very slow and easy at the start I quickly realised I had got myself too far back and felt a little held up. Pride always comes before a fall they say and this was the point I twisted my ankle. Aargh! Less than 4 miles into a 64 mile race and this. Luckily it was nothing serious and I kept on running without too much trouble. On arriving at Pentewan I took the opportunity to pass the group I was with, dibbed my timer chip and ran on.



Coming up out of Pentewan are a couple more big hills which went by surprisingly quickly. At Mevagissey I joined up with a small group and chatted to one guy in particular for a while (sorry can't remember your name, I'm crap at this at the best of times!). Before long it seemed we were coming into Gorran Haven and check point 2. I didn't want to be drawn in to spending too much time at the check points - I knew I could run 20 miles on a litre of water and so dibbed and ran again with my sights firmly set on Portloe. This led to me finding myself alone on the trail again and I settled into a good rhythm. The trail from Gorran Haven is gently up hill but mostly not too technical for a fairly long stretch up to Dodman point. 

With the moon out over a perfectly still sea and no-one else around these were some of the most peaceful hours; I passed Hemmick bay, a tiny beach with almost no parking on an equally tiny road and climbed up through some tough terrain before a long run down through woods - difficult in the dark - brought me to Caerhays; a beach with its own castle in residence. Some more steep climbing followed and shortly after the first route finding issue of the night, a field with no exit. A small group of guys behind me caught up at this point and we skirted the hedge looking for an exit before moving on. Not long later we reached Portholland and the infamous rocky traverse. The "path" here runs along a concrete sea wall rocky ledges, ending with a final scramble to safety with a nasty fall awaiting if you place a foot wrong. Normally I am pretty sure footed, but lack of sleep, the exertion of the previous four hours and darkness seemed to conspire to make me feel quite exposed as I hopped over the last section to safety.

Its a big climb from Portholland and from here the ground becomes quite technical. About here I found the first signs of fatigue were setting in and a nagging queasiness was making eating a bit of a chore (though I was still able to eat every half hour as I had from the start). I passed a lady just before Portloe and we agreed this was a tough section in the dark. At the checkpoint I filled up with water before moving straight on. Leaving Portloe I got a bit confused and nearly ran off a cliff! Despite reading the warning about an unfenced section the path appeared to lead straight on but this was clearly a one way option to the sea below. Eventually after some aimless wandering I found the path doubled back on itself and I was away once more.

Not long after I started to recognise the outline of the cliff and realised I was approaching Nare Head. I had set up camp here last year while photographing and remembered watching runners' head torches moving back and forward as they tried to find the correct line. The memory didn't help me much and I did the same, eventually getting myself up onto the headland and being passed by several others in the process.

Beautiful sunrise, somewhere near Portscatho

From Nare Head there is a good view of the remainder of the route and Portscatho - the final checkpoint before St Anthony was lit up and glowing in the distance. I was quite put out at just how distant it was though and there were a fair few hills still to go. Arriving at the beach before the Nare Hotel I met another runner - I remembered her from last year - and we chatted for a bit as we wound our way along the final stretch up to Portscatho. By now the sun was rising and what a sunrise! I certainly got a big boost from those golden rays as they warmed my back and pushed me on.

Portscatho in the early morning sun

Happy to see the sun at last
It was pretty cool to arrive at Portscatho and be greeted by a bunch of Superheros; quite surreal and a great lift. I stopped to fill up with water and watched several runners pass on while I snacked and sorted out moving some food into places I could get at it before once more heading off.

Super marshals, Portscatho

The section from Portscatho to St Anthony is relatively flat and quite runnable and I'd been looking forward to this, however the truth was I was starting to feel knackered by now and it showed on these four miles. Runners were passing me and those that had already turned were heading back, always with an exchanged "well done" for each other. I also saw Charlie Whitton photographing and stopped for a chat for a minute or two. On arrival at St Anthony I rang my support crew and spoke to Bronwen, asking her to pass on my turn around time - 7:30 - and expected return pace. As I was about to find out I was being optimistic about my likely pace on the return leg.



Happy trails, leaving Portscatho

Beautiful views across Carrick Roads to Pendennis & Falmouth

Heading back, even in those first few miles I was really starting to flag. I ran as much as I could though and got back to Portscatho where I intended to have some soup and a sit down. Andy Jukes was there when I arrived and he told me he'd just dropped with a tendon issue in his ankle. I said I'd realised I was running slower than my goal and was a bit pissed off about it and he gave me the talking to I needed - to forget about pace and concentrate on doing whatever I needed to do to finish. The soup was an epic fail unfortunately, I just couldn't face it - the only thing I rejected all day. So it was back to gels and flapjacks and off I went again.




The next miles along to, and over the top of, Nare Head were increasingly difficult, though by now the black route runners had started catching me up and I was bouyed up by words of encouragement from just about everyone that passed. I didn't feel like I was "doing great" or "looking good" though and struggled to give more than a grunt in return I'm afraid.

Black route runners coming through

Dropping down from Nare head my quads finally started to give up on me and this added to the sense of doom and gloom that I was slipping into. Up until now I was running down hill quite well but all of a sudden it was all I could do to keep up right and hobble my way down the steep bank I was on. Luckily it wasn't far to Portloe; as I got to the top of the hill above the village I heard the starting horn for the red route and saw the runners all filing out on their merry way. Minutes later the welcome sight of Hannah, Bronwen & Jenna waving me in lifted my spirits and I dragged myself into the checkpoint for a bit of a sit down and a change of socks. I had given the kids a list of questions to ask me when they saw me - do you need any food, have you been taking your salt tablets, etc. Of course the only one that interested them was "when did you last pee?" which they gleefully shouted as I arrived. This would be the greeting I received at every check point until the end!  I should also thank the unknown black route runner who handed me some Compeed and plasters to sort out my one blister; once that was sorted and I had loaded up with more food and drank a couple of glasses of coke I was off again.

Although it was a long old way to Gorran Haven and the next official check point (10 miles) I knew there would be a water station at Port Holland and the girls were to meet me at Caerhays so this section would be broken up nicely. I settled in to a steady pace up to Portholland, running a bit with another Plague runner and soon enough we were descending the steep steps into the village. It was good to see Andy Goundry handing out sweets and drinks and we had a little chat before heading off across the rocks. Charlie Whitton was just across the rocks taking photos and I stopped for a quick chat again with him - he later told me I was in a dark place when I spoke to him there - before moving on. I think this section up to Caerhays was my lowest point; I just couldn't get any kind of pace, everything hurt and I was struggling to just keep my mind on the next little section - the enormity of what I still  had to do just kept on rearing up.



At Caerhays the girls walked up the hill and over the fields with me. Just before leaving them I was passed by Justin Lowell; I noticed he was wearing headphones and this reminded me that I too had an mp3 player with me. I whipped it out and stuck on some tunes and the transformation was incredible. The pain in my legs receded, my mood lifted and I was off again (I don't think I was moving any faster but in my mind I was flying!). Before long I was actually enjoying the day again, pumping my fists to the music, singing along, and smiling inside and out.

Vault beach and the start of a lovely long downhill section toward Gorran Haven

After some hard miles over Dodman point there is a lovely long downhill section almost all the way to Gorran. I ran into Gorran Haven on a high and told everyone how much better I was feeling. Gutted to find no Coke left I downed a can of Red Bull which actually went down pretty well and shot off. Hannah didn't want to try and park in Meva so arranged to meet me at Pentewan. I continued in a positive mood for a few more miles, though bizarrely I was becoming unusually emotional. Every time I thought about finishing I would feel like I was choking up, only to be laughing hysterically seconds later. Everything seemed very sharp and intense and I was at times almost euphoric, even though I was hurting. I've never experienced this on a run before.

Port Mellon and feeling it!

oh dear!
At Port Mellon the route moves onto the road and the positive energy I had been riding on started to fall away to be replaced by a feeling of complete exhaustion. By now though I didn't care, as I reached the top of the hill above the harbour in Meva the two marshals there cheered me on and told me what I already knew - "You've got this, its in the bag now". At the other side of the harbour a marshal kindly donated some of her own water as I was sure I hadn't enough to make it to Pentewan without running out. I'd been managing my water well up until then I couldn't imagine running dry on those steep climbs ahead. One of those climbs, an absolute mother of a hill, nearly broke me and I had to dig seep to carry on but again, soon enough I was approaching the check point. The girls ran me in and I got a high five and a pep talk from Fergie about how I had plenty of time and could walk the last bit if I needed to and still get in. I feasted on water melon while Izzy filled my bottles and then I was off to take on those dreaded final sets of steps in the last four miles.

Really? More steps?

I think by now I was taking about 25 minutes per mile but was still surprised at how well I climbed the last few hills. With only a mile or so to go my Garmin told me it was low on battery. Checking the time I also reckoned if I picked up the pace a bit I might get in under 17 and a half hours and so that's what I did. I marched up the last hill through Porthpean like a man possessed; in the end the Garmin made it and I crossed the line in 17:31:58. Best of all the girls were there to run the last few metres holding my hands which made it all the better. The post race beer was a beautiful thing to behold; but before long my body was starting to shut down. Having showered and wrapped up in as many clothes as I could find I ate Pizza and shuffled off to bed at about 8:30! Broken but satisfied.

It remains only to thank everyone involved. Ferg and the rest of the team made this such a great event, everything was so well run & having ultra runners manning all the check points meant you got looked after at every point along the way - whether that meant filling your bottles, checking you were eating or just giving you a kick up the backside and telling you to get on with it. That's why these events shine out as some of the best in the country and why people just keep coming back year after year. And thanks as well to Hannah, Bronwen and Jenna, my support crew and long suffering family.