Patience, Parkruns and progress!

It's now 10 weeks since my injury and I am thrilled to report that over the past couple of weeks I have made major progress in my rehab. They do say that for a calf tear you are looking at 6 weeks rest and recovery, and certainly from 6 weeks on I was able to start running properly again. Until then I just stuck to cross-training and swimming in the week and only ran 5k, each Saturday, at my local Parkrun. Finally, the patience - which, I might add, is not generally a word that I regularly entertain in my day-to-day vocabulary - is finally paying off!

I decided to use Parkrun each week as a means of assessing the progress of the injury and, as I started to notice improvements and was able to up the pace a little, of testing my fitness. Probably the biggest thing I have learnt from this injury and enforced lay-off period is not to panic about losing fitness. I used to think that  if I went one week without running to a level that aerobically taxed myself, I would then notice a massive drop in fitness the following week. This thinking led me to attempt a track session the Wednesday after injuring my achillies in the Exeter Half on the Sunday, fearing that if I didn't, my fitness would plunge to such a level that I wouldn't be as competitive and would embarrass myself when running for Devon at the Plymouth Hoe 10 mile the following Sunday. Looking back on this week now I can say with certainty that I was a bloody idiot. My fitness would not have been affected one iota from missing that one track session (a session I ran at only half pace and had to abandon after 3 measly reps due to the pain in my achillies anyway). What my body needed was a week of rest to allow the injury to heal, then maybe - and it's a very big maybe - I would not have injured myself to the extent I did in the Plymouth race. But hindsight is a wonderful thing, huh? So if I can take anything positive from these past 10 difficult and mentally taxing weeks, it's that I don't need to panic as fitness does not disappear over night and it's far more beneficial to respond to my aches and pains and sack off a session if I feel any niggles. It's been a steep learning curve, but I think I have just about learned that lesson now.... the hard way!

Killerton Parkrun moved to a new temporary course in the nearby Ashclyst Forest in mid-February, due to deteriorating ground conditions at Killerton due to the incessant rainfall. The new course at Ashclyst was much tougher, it being a 3 lap course with over 300ft of climb over the 5k distance. However, the surface underfoot, on gravelly forest tracks, was very forgiving and my achillies seemed to like it. Testing myself over it each week never aggravated it and it allowed me to have at least one run to look forward to each weekend. Over the 6 weeks that I ran the route there, I gradually improved my times from 23:23 on my first conservative, jogged attempt, to 21:28 five weeks later. After Lucy's time of 21:18, this was the next fastest female time on this much slower, hillier course.

The temporary course at Ashclyst was kind on my injury-riddled legs!

The 101st Parkrun had a 101 Dalmatian's theme. I won the best costume award. The guy on the right (in the left hand photo) didn't put any effort in at all.... ;-)

On 10th April I felt ready to tackle my first proper race. Keeping things short and sweet for a first outing, myself, and 3 other Harriers, drove up to Yeovilton for the first round of the Summer 5k series. Held over a totally pancake flat course, this route offers the potential for fast times. My aim for this first round, though, was not to set any PBs but to just see how my leg would fair on a race on tarmac and to see where I am at in terms of speed and fitness. The result was a massive confidence boost. I thought somewhere in the region of 19:30 - 20 mins would have been a reasonable ask and so I headed out conservatively, not allowing myself to dip below 6m/m. To be honest, I didn't really have the leg speed to go much faster than this anyway, not having done any speed-work since early February. Yeovilton always attracts a good quality field and so, on this occasion, I was happy to let a few female runners head off in front of me and to run my own race. Surprisingly, the sensible approach paid off as it was an absolutely awful night, with a fiercely strong headwind on the home stretch, and by containing myself over the first mile, I found that I was able to keep consistent pacing throughout, whereas those who went out hard started to fade into the headwind at the end. I managed to overhaul 3 other ladies over the course of the race and finished in 2nd place, just 6 seconds behind the first lady in a time of 18:52. Sub-19 was not on the radar at all pre-race, so I was thrilled. Most importantly, I ran the whole thing without pain and didn't suffer any major discomfort afterwards or the next day.

Yeovilton had shown me how much I had missed racing and all the emotions and physical effects that go with it: the pre-race jitters, the start-line excitement, pushing my lungs and legs beyond their comfort zone, the final adrenaline-fueled surge for the finish line (a surge that I was unable to manage at Plymouth due to the sheer agony I was in) and the euphoria you feel upon crossing the line, knowing that you've given your best and it's now over and you can go back to the race HQ and swill tea and scoff cake! All of this is a part of the racing experience and it's the reason I am motivated to force myself out of the door to train when I've just got in from work, I'm tired, it's pouring with rain, it's freezing, and it would be so easy to just plonk my arse down on the couch with a cuppa and my latest Barbara Nadel novel. I know that people take up running and join clubs for a whole variety of personal reasons - to lose weight, to get fit, for the social aspect - but I have to confess that personally, I don't really get how people are able to push themselves in training and do painful speed work sessions and tempo runs with no end-goal on the horizon. I just don't see the point! For me, training is all about the end product: the race. And racing isn't just about the winning and your position in relation to others; it's about testing your own boundaries and beating your own times. I cannot motivate myself to push myself beyond the pain barrier in training without the competitive element there as motivation.

With my taste-buds tantalized at Yeovilton, I was hungry for more, and so on 14th April I took part in the Honiton Hippo race. This is a multi-terrain race in every sense of the word, over a distance of 7.5 miles. It includes 3 river crossings - which, this year, due to the heavy rainfall - were the highest they have ever been in the history of the race. The last river crossing was even up to chest height on the tallest male competitors, so they had to remove it from the junior race and reroute them around it. Luckily we still got to tackle it, but the rope that they had strung across the river was a crucial piece of equipment: some competitors opted just to swim across! Part of the race goes around the 'Landrover Experience' complex and there were two very deep, muddy sumps to wade through. One had the added fun of having a cargo net over it, forcing you to crawl through on your hands and knees: a nice twist by the organisers! I opted to start extremely cautiously as I did not know how my achillies and calf would hold up over this distance as it was farther than I had run since before my injury. I let a fellow female competitor go off in front of me down the steep downhill start but found that as soon as we hit the uphill, even at a conservative pace, I was able to claw her in. At about halfway, I was experiencing no discomfort in my leg so I was able to push the pace a bit more and enjoy that exhilarating feeling of running swiftly through the beautiful countryside of East Devon. By the end of the race I had extended my lead to 5 minutes and still felt strong. I was enjoying the terrain and scenery and, unlike in many races where you push yourself hard from the gun, I was not just hanging on in sheer desperation for the finish line to appear, which was the biggest boost ever and meant more to me than actually winning the race.

In one of the wooded sections of the Honiton Hippo 7.5m multi-terrain race

The delightful crawl through a muddy sump under a cargo net in 'Landrover Experience'!

A successful race, followed by that pleasant after-feeling of stiff, weary, tired limbs that tell you that they have worked hard and need a rest but are not screaming at you in injury-induced agony: a feeling I have missed so much these past few weeks. However, I was careful not to get too addicted to the feeling and get sucked back into a must-race-every-week cycle again. So no racing now until 12th May, giving me a whole month to try and get back into some proper training.

Last weekend I went up to London for the marathon. Of course, when I booked the trip it was with the intention of running in the marathon, having earned a championship start from my Taunton time from last year. When I sustained my injury, I still thought I would be running London - hell, I thought I'd be back running again after a couple of days rest. Denial is a wonderful thing, but it only gets you so far. There comes a point when you realise that these future dates you have penciled in your diary are rapidly making the leap of time to become the present... and you are still pissing-well injured. The Duchy 20, the Inter-counties XC in Birmingham, Yeovil Half-Marathon, Yeovil Easter Bunny 10k... all of them, woooooosh, sticking a big two fingers up at you as they swoop on by. Then you reach the acceptance phase and you realise that there's nothing you can do; you aren't physically capable of even jogging 13 miles on tarmac at the moment, let alone racing it, so you might as well channel your energies into getting the injury better rather than in wallowing in self-pity and being bitter about why you got injured in the first place. In the end, I had a truly fabulous weekend in London supporting all my fellow Harriers and other running buddies. It was a glorious day for spectating and, without the stress of competing, I was able to enjoy the weekend, the Expo, the event, and enjoy it over a few guilt-free glasses of wine! I even managed to sample a London Parkrun - Mile End - and have a solid run to finish first lady in 18:55 and set the second fastest female time on the course. The bonus was that Vicky, one of my best mates from my undergrad days, with whom I shared a flat in Bangor and who now lives in Ealing, was able to join myself, Adam and Carly there, so we had a lovely morning relaxing in the sun after our run. I thoroughly enjoyed the whole weekend and I experienced a very similar high sharing in the successes of all my club mates and supporting them on their runs to what I would have experienced were I able to have run it. Plus I've now sussed out the course and the routine for when I am able to take part, so it was a positive experience all round.

Adam, Carly, Vicky and me, enjoying the sun in Mile End Park after the Parkrun.

Watching the elite men, including Mo Farah, go through 7 miles in sunny London

This week I managed a successful track session on our beloved pot-hole riddled, cinder track in Exmouth. Nothing to set the world on fire, just a sensibly paced session of 5 x 800m reps. I finished the session pain free and could have managed a 6th, but my plan was for 5 this week and so I stuck to it. Get me and my new-found sensible streak! My caution was rewarded with fresh legs for this morning's Killerton Parkrun - now back on its original course. With a dry, firm surface and my friend Lucy to chase around the course, I even managed to set an unexpected new Killerton PB, carving 16 seconds off my previous best to clock 19:20.

So right now, things are looking much brighter. Nevertheless, I am now only too aware of how this injury can flare up at any time and so I know that I need still to exercise caution and not get too carried away. Also, my left ankle is still swollen around the achillies come the end of each day, whether I've run on it or not, so it's by no means right. My plan this week is for a good solid week of training as I am away all next week in France on a school trip and won't be able to run at all. A kick back week will be no bad thing and now I can rest easy in the confidence of knowing that I will not suddenly revert back to the level of fitness I had in 2010, prior to taking up the sport, just from having one week off. No need to panic! My summer season will not be over just from missing one week, much the same as the sky will not fall in if I am not personally there to hold it up. Don't worry, be happy :-)

Human pin cushion!

I figured it was about time I give an update on my injury progress. It was 4 weeks to the day yesterday that I hobbled across the finish line of thew Plymouth Hoe race and since then I have run a grand total of 12 miles; 3 miles each week at Parkrun, to assess the progress of the injury, with no running and just cross-training / biking / swimming in between. This is the least amount I have run since taking up the sport in May 2010 and not being able to train has tested me on many levels: physically, financially and definitely psychologically. I'll deal with them each here in the hopes that if anyone else is going through the same issue - long term injury, particularly involving the achillies / calf - some of what I say may be of help, if only to say, 'what a bloody fool, no wonder she's injured', and to steer you to do exactly the opposite!

Financial
Being injured is a costly process! Here is the tally of incurred expenses thus far:
Money lost in entry fees for races entered that I won't be able to compete in:
£8 (Duchy 20 - fortunately a cheap one!)
£8 (Easter Bunny 10k)
£28 London Marathon
Forunately I had a free entry for the Yeovil Half and my Siblyback entry was kindly transferred by the organisers - Dig Deep Events - to the June event... by which time I had better damn well be recovered!

Money lost in hotels / travel costs:
£190 (2 night hotel stay in London, non-refundable)
£120 (train fares for London - as above)

Money spent on physio:
£65 thus far as rising. (The only saving grace is that the acupuncture (outlined below) was free on the NHS!)

Money spent in desperation on gimmick devises in the vain hope that they may help:
Foam roller: £15
Balance board: £8
Strasburg sock to sleep in and stretch tendon: £39
Tiger Balm and Ibuprofen gel: £6
Elastic exercise band: £5
Kinesiology (K.T.) tape (2 rolls): £16

Total injury cost thus far: £508 .... and mounting. I NEED to get this sorted soon as my wallet - not to mention my waistline and my wits - are weeping!


Physical 

The first thing I did was to register with a specialist sports doctor in Exmouth, whom I have now seen twice. He assessed my achillies, foot alignment, injury history etc. and diagnosed me with equinus foot (essentially, horse foot!). As some of you may know, I used to be a keen horse rider and had a horse for a a few years when I lived in North Wales. I chose to sideline horse riding for a while as my injury record in that sport was even worse than it is in running and so I deemed the threat of a bad fall to be too great. Now I find myself diagnosed with a horse-related running injury: the irony is just too glaring! Basically, equinus foot is where the foot rotates inwards, usually as a result of poor ankle flexibility - which he reckons I have in the left ankle - and causes the arch to cave in and the foot to over-pronate. Because he deemed this a biomechanical problem of the ankle, I am still classed as a neutral runner and so stability shoes and / or orthotics would not make any difference. So, what did he advise? In the long term, making my ankle more flexible and stronger with a series of calf stretches and exercises. The issue: my calf muscle was so damaged and painful from the race that I couldn't even put my heel down at first, as the stretch was too painful, so actually doing a calf stretch was sheer agony and made my calf feel as if it was about to rip from end to end like a zipper unfastening. The interim solution: acupuncture.

Have you ever had acupuncture before? I hadn't, and it's the most bizarre experience. It's one of those treatments that I would broadly categorise as 'alternative therapy' and which belongs in the same department as arnica, epsom salts, reiki, meditation and yoga! I am not an out and out skeptic when it comes to these things, but let's just say that I approach them cautiously minded, hoping - but by no means expecting - to be proven wrong! The doctor inserted about 12 needles into my left calf, ankle and big toe, and then attached crocodile clips to some of the needles and then plugged the clips into an electric meter. He then handed me the meter and the dials and informed me that I was in charge of my own voltage! I slowly started to increase the volts by turning up the dials, but felt nothing. Being me, I started to get suspicious at about this time that if I felt nothing then it meant it was having no effect, and so I cranked the voltage up to maximum. To say I nearly went shooting off the bed, whilst simultaneously screaming and wetting myself would not be too much of an exaggeration. The electricity kicked in alright and with an almighty shock that shot down my lower leg and exited via my big toe, leaving it throbbing and red. That'll teach me to be so bloody overzealous in future! I then lay there, twitching uncontrollably, whilst periodically inspecting my spines and feeling like a torture victim in a laboratory. After 20 long minutes, the doctor announced that I was "done" (much in the same way as one would announce the successful cooking of one's Christmas turkey) and he unplugged and de-spined me, leaving me sprouting blood from my twelve newly acquired minutiae orifices. I was then informed that this was the first of three treatments and so I could look forward to being spiked and shocked again twice more in the not too distant future. Oh joy.

Me and my electronically charged needles

Did it help? No. It's meant to be a remedy for pain relief, but I did not feel any different after the treatment to before. Well, no, I had a throbbing big toe, which wasn't there before, so it did have some effect! He gave me a rehabiliation sheet which outlined several useful exercises, including that old chestnut that keeps coming up time and time again: eccentric heel drops / calf raises. There are different schools of thought on this. Some say you should do the 'lowering' part only and raise yourself up on your good leg, others say to do raises only, whilst others say to do both. All I know is, I have tried the exercises on several previous occasions and they have in fact caused other problems in my calves and the backs of my knee and not had a positive effect on my achillies either.

I have also seen a physio at the marine camp who came highly recommended by Gordan Seward. Gordan has been a huge help throughout this process. He is the time keeper at the weekly Killerton parkrun, but he is a long time athlete - and a bloody good one at that - and what he doesn't know about the sport and about injuries is probably not worth knowing. He's a lovely guy who gives freely of his time to help and advise young and enthusiastic (often over-enthusiastic!) runners, and he's somewhat taken me under his wing of late to make sure that I get this injury sorted once and for all so I don't end up being blighted by it for my entire running career.

So last week I went with Gordan to see Rich, the physio at Lympstone Commando. He did a series of tests on me and determined that I do not have one leg shorter than the other (as one physio had previously told me I did), and I do not have a collapsed left foot arch (as the sports doctor told me I did) and that, biomechanically, I am an almost perfect specimen! That's great on the one hand, but on the other, it means that there's no pin-point reason to explain why I keep getting problems in my left achillies. The one thing he did notice is that my right calf is visibly larger than my left: a pretty good indication that it's more developed and stronger and so likely to give me less problems. This is something I have always been aware of, even from before I took up running. My parents thought I was imagining it and used to call me ridiculous on the few occasions that I got the tape measure out in attempt to prove it to them, but I am right leg dominant, so it makes sense that it would be more developed. I used to hate my larger right calf and wish I could lop it off; now I would give anything to have another to match it!!

Rich and Gordan both believe that my achillies issue is simply a result of doing too much, too fast. Many athletes would build up over a period of 10 years before tackling their first marathon, I did mine after 3 months! I have only been running for 2 and a half years and in that time I have competed in over 80 races, 9 of which have been marathons (and 2 of those 32.4 mile ultras). Come to think of it, I probably have overcooked things slightly. The problem with me is that my personality has always been given to excess and so I don't just dabble and flirt with things, I dive in, head first, without ever pausing to check the depth beforehand. Sometimes I don't have the depth to fall back on, and I think that I am now being reminded of that. I am finally starting to learn that you feel pain for a reason and ignoring pain - whilst at times seeming heroic - is in fact just stupid, as it will only get worse to the point that it forcefully insists that you give in to it. I have ridden my luck on my dodgy achillies for far too long and my sheer bloody-mindedness has made this injury far far worse than it need have been.

Psychological

Which leads me nicely onto my next topic: the psychological impact of being injured. Now, I have always said right from the start that if I ever got seriously injured to the point that I couldn't run, that I would worry for my sanity, and I have proven myself to be right on that point! Everybody needs a goal in life, a reason to strive, something to fight for, a motivator to get up in the morning. For some it's their family, for others, their career, and for others, it's sport. I used to be massively career minded. When I was at Bangor, studying for my PhD, I had no other focus but that and so I put all my energies and efforts into it. I took up running at the very moment that I had started to lose focus and interest in my research, and so there was almost an imperceptible shift that took place, whereby I just transferred all my ambitions and attentions from my PhD to my running. Believe me, when you go at things with the fervor and ferocity that I tend to, there is only room for one focus in your life! The problem of course comes once this focus is taken away, as it has been for me for the past four weeks.

Until the Plymouth Hoe calamity, I was fixed on my target of a sub 2h55 time at the London Marathon in much the same tunnel-visioned way as an eagle fixes on its prey. It occupied many of my waking thoughts - and some of my sleeping ones too - with the planning of my training, key build up races, race strategy, tapering and the organising of the trip itself. London is of course now definitely ruled out, along with all my key build up races along the way that I had hoped to set new PBs in. Now, when I get in from work, I am faced with more tedious cross-training - which I simply do not enjoy. I like to run, outside, to feel the wind in my hair and to hear the sounds of nature. I do not like sitting on a bike in the gym, sweating away to some God-awful music being blared out far too loudly, whilst staring at the same blank wall for an hour. Also, all this cycling has been giving me monster thigh muscles; it's amazing how quickly your physique adapts itself to a new sport within a matter of weeks. The thunder-thigh, Chris Hoy look is really not something I go in for, and so I've been having a series of internal dilemmas as I try to weigh up the cardiovascular benefits of sticking with the cycling against the drawbacks of the negative impact its having on my physique and self-image. It's a toughie!

I have also been having a tussle in my head about the progress of my injury versus the degeneration of my fitness at Parkrun each week. With each outing the pain in my calf muscle - which I now know to have been caused by a partial tear of the gastrocnemius muscle as a result of the stresses transferred to it in the race from my achillies - subsides, leaving me feeling positive, but as it subsides I have been able to push the pace a bit more, which has highlighted to me my considerable drop in fitness. I keep telling myself not to panic, fitness can be regained provided you have the injury under control, but only half of me ever listens to this logic!

Ultimately it's perhaps not a bad thing that this has happened. Yes, the timing of it might have been dire, but then, is there ever a good time to be injured? I always have plans, so whenever it happened it would have been inconvenient. But it has forced me to address this on-going issue that I had previously chosen to ignore and it's made me realise that I need to listen to my body and be a bit more attentive to its warning signs in future. Yes, it's frustrating that I have it when I know of runners who compete far more than I do and who just coast by without a single niggle, but their bodies are clearly made of sterner stuff than mine. If only my physical strength was an equal match for my mental tenacity: then I really would be a force to be reckoned with!!

The only running I have been doing these past 4 weeks is at my 5k weekly outing at Parkrun, where I assess the progress of my injury. This was the Harrogate parkrun, one cold morning in late February.

... or a year of frustrations?

Stop. Pause. Rewind. Forget everything I said in my last post as since then everything has changed... and NOT for the better!! To fill you in, we need to rewind to Sunday 10th February 2013, where the frusurations begin.

The Half-marathon PB that wasn't....

I had had a superb 3 weeks of training between the First Chance 10k, on 20th January, and the Exeter Half, on 10th February. I had been running totally injury free and pain free in my achillies for the first time in months and months. I had been nailing some good times at track training sessions, including a 1 mile time trial which was done in 5:21 and some 800 reps done in 2:45s. The Thursday before the Exeter Half I went out on a 10 miler and just felt great - like I was floating along, so I headed to Exeter on the Sunday confident that I could not only set a new PB but that I could knock a good minute or more off it. So what happened? Cue the exasperating British weather....

An overnight downpour the night before flooded part of the course and so on the morning of the race the organisers, Iron Bridge Runner, had to make a last-minute adjustment to the route to allow the race to go ahead, and to go ahead safely. Instead of completing 3 loops of the riverside course they planned to now send us out and back down the same path. Pre-race estimations were that this would bring the distance in short, at about 12 miles. These (gu)estimations proved to be just a tiny bit out, however! To every runner's surprise, the revised course actually came in longer than expected, and in fact longer than the half-marathon distance, with all our Garmins showing around 13:25 miles.

Completing lap 1 (about 4 miles) of the 3 lap Exeter (just a bit more than) Half Marathon

I had a great race and just felt amazing. I ran the whole thing stride for stride with Luke Reed from Axe Valley Runners. At last year's race we had also found that we were about the same pace and he eventually got the better of me in the sprint finish, him finishing in 1:24:26 and me in 1:24:29. This year we decided that as we were going for a similar time, we would work together. And it worked really well, We took it in turns to set the pace and we gave each other encouragement all along the way. As you keep turning around and heading back down the same path, it was easy to gauge where you were in terms of overall positions in the race and the gaps between the runners in front of and behind you. After an initial jostling of positions over the first 3 miles, from then on the positions were set and Luke and I were occupying a comfortable 8th and 9th place overall. In the ladies race I had nothing to fear as the gap between myself and the next female was about 1/2 a mile on lap 1, a mile on lap 2 and had extended to a 2 mile lead by lap 3. I was basically just running for a time.... but a time that wouldn't count as the course was no longer of a true distance.

Working with Luke Reed of Axe Valley and taking turns at leading (and drafting!)

As I went through 13.1 miles, my Garmin read 1:22:58. Had this been a true distance, I would have pushed on at the appropriate time for the finish and would probably have posted a time of around 1:22:45, which was the time I was hoping for and felt capable of. Luke and I were together to the bitter end, when, once again, history repeated itself and he ditched me in a stronger sprint finish, but I reduced the gap from 3 seconds last year to 1 second this! I crossed the actual finish line, at 13:25 miles, in a time of 1:23:43: still a PB, by almost a minute, and over 13 minutes clear of the second lady (think all the fast women were at the Bovey Tracey cross-country!) but it's a PB that isn't official and isn't accurate. If only the finish line could have been moved 150m nearer, it would have been ok! Frustration number 1!

My haul from the Exeter Half. All lovely, but an official shiny new PB would have been the icing on the cake!

Frustration number 2 came the next day when I woke up and had a lot of pain and stiffness in my achillies. I wasn't bothered by this in the race and yes, my left calf did start to get tighter in the last 3 or so miles, but that was to be expected, and I have had worse - much worse - in other races and not had any problems the following morning. I was forced to rest the leg on Monday and Tuesday, aware that I had even bigger fish to fry the coming weekend when I would be making my debut in the Devon County vest at the Plymouth Hoe 10 mile race. On Wednesday I still had some pain and stiffness in the leg and I made what would proove to be a stupid decision to go to track anyway. 1/2 a rep into my 4 x 1km reps and my achillies was screaming. I took them very steady but was forced to stop at 3. The next morning I paid for it and was limping into work.
I then didn't run again until Saturday when I decided to have a steady jog around the new Killerton Parkrun course in Ashclyst Forest: if my achillies held up ok, I would run on Sunday; if it didn't, I would contact the team manager and tell him to give my place to the reserve.

On Saturday it started off stiff - nothing unusual here, this is how it was for the entire summer last year and yet it held up ok week after week and got me through a hectic season - but it did work in as I went round the course at a steady 7:30m/m, just enjoying the new route and chatting with Lucy and pulling daft poses at the cameras! No ill-effects afterwards meant that I was confident that it would do the same the next day in Plymouth and work in as I went round. Also, another odd quirk regarding my achillies - and this is largely why I am at a loss as to what actually triggers the pain in it - is that sometimes it responds well to a good blast in a race and hammering it for a few miles can totally sort it out! This happened at First Chance 10K in 2011 when I had just come back from 3 weeks in the Maldives where I had been unable to do much running at all as the sand totally messed it up. I started that race practically hobbling, but it worked itself in, and once the DOMS had cleared a few days later, I had no pain at all and was able to throw myself into my marathon training programme! I was kinda hoping that the same thing would happen in Plymouth.... it didn't.

Injury woe and Plymouth Hoe...

On the warm-up track at Brickfields, I could feel stiffness in it, but again, past experience has showed that this often works itself out in the race. I did double the warm up I usually do, including plenty of drills and strides, to make sure it wouldn't get too much of a shock when I put the hammer down at the start of the race. Wearing the blue and white of Devon also added to the pressure: I had to justify my selection and do the vest justice after all! So naturally, I went off hard, too hard (first mile in 5:41). This race is so competitive as the Devon v Cornwall Peninsula Challenge ensures that all the top runners from both those counties are there, and then you get those who - like myself last year - were not selected for the county teams and so turn up with extra fire in their bellies as they have something to prove to the selectors.

The Peninsula Challenge Devon ladies team 2013. 

L-R: Lucy Commander (SWRR), Alison McEwing (Erme Valley), Ami Yetton (Plymouth Harriers), and me!

My achillies hurt all the way round, it just went from being an annoying ache in miles 1-2, to a very uncomfortable hindrance in miles 3-5, to a very painful drawback in miles 5-7, to, finally, an agonizing disability that I could barely run on from mile 7 until I finally speed-hobbled across the finish line. I have never wanted to pull out of a race so badly either. Guernsey Marathon the second time, in 2012, was painful, and there was an agonizing moment during that race, at about mile 15, where every fiber of my body screamed at me to slow to a walk. But here, I didn't know how much damage I was causing by forcing my body to run on an ever-deteriorating left leg. The internal debate as to whether or not to carry on started at about mile 6. At mile 7 it intensified as a) the pain got drastically worse and b) I passed a very accomplished runner from Torbay AC who had withdrawn and was walking back to the finish. Good God did I want to step off onto the pavement and join him! But I kept telling myself - you have never DNFed. If you go down that route it's a slippery slope. How long before you start DNFing regularly because things aren't quite going your way? Also, I tend to like to think of myself as being a little bit uber-hardcore and therefore above succumbing to the weaknesses that other runners give in to. (I should perhaps mention here as an aside that this line of thinking has got me into a lot of trouble in other areas of my life in the the past too...) And, moreover, I just don't agree with quitting and my respect for my fellow competitors seriously diminishes if they DNF for anything short of an actual, physical loss of consciousness! So I dug the hell in and carried the hell on!

When I finally did reach that Mecca that was the finish line, I burst into tears, both at the level of pain I was in and also at the relief that it was finally over and I could stop forcing my screaming left leg to carry me on any further. My time? 64:05. Amazingly, a PB, by just 13 seconds, but not so amazing really, just frustrating, as I had run this shorter distance at a slower average pace than my half-marathon the week before, and I was in much better fitness than this time indicated. I was hoping for something in the region of 62 minutes, so another 64 clocking represented frustration number 3! What was amazing though is that I had finished as the third counter in the Devon ladies team (4 run, with the first 3 to count), as one of my team mates had also had a bad day at the office. I had also managed to beat 3 out of the 4 Cornish ladies, and so, with my friend and training partner Lucy clocking a superb PB of 1:00:43 in 2nd place to lead our team home, Devon ladies won the Peninsula Challenge for only the 2nd time in the history of it running (the first time being back in 2006 in the first year of the trophy). So that at least made the pain a little bit worthwhile.

Hoe-rendous, hoe-riffic, hoe-pless... and other such puns!

2 laps of the Brickfields track to go and I'm in absolute agony, desperate to finish!

And so we come forward to now, 10 days after the race. I spent the first few days limping, unable to even walk properly. I have only run once since, 3 miles, and that didn't go too well so have not attempted it again. I am boring myself stupid trying to keep some level of fitness up by swimming and cycling myself into sweaty oblivion in spinning classes. I am seeing a specialist sports injury doctor on Friday in the hope of some answers, and in the hope that I can persuade him to refer me for an MRI scan so I at least have an idea of what I am up against here! I have had to pull out of the Duchy 20 mile this coming Sunday and also out of what was to be my debut appearance for Devon at cross-country at the inter-counties XC championships in Birmingham on March 9th. I can also say with some confidence that London is a no-go for this year too. With only one run of 16 miles and one of 17.5 in the bag since last August, I do not have enough base miles to fall back on. Sure, I would get round, but I have a championship start and so I don't want to embarrass myself by starting at the front and then ending up crossing the line alongside the fancy dress and charity contingent! Frustration number 4 is that after holding off on booking a hotel and trains for as long as I could, I had only just booked them a week or so before the Plymouth race. So I guess we will go to London anyway and just watch the race and see what it's all about for next year when, with any luck, I will be on top of this injury and able to finally have a stab at London and nail a PB!

What makes this all the more frustrating - cue frustration number 5 - is that this is the worst injury, by far, I have had, and yet it has come at a time when I have been taking the most sensible approach to training and running ever! When I think back to the relentless racing regime I put my legs through last summer and my achillies was still better than it is currently. Yes, it ached and I had constant pain if I squeezed it in it in the right (or wrong!) spot, but it was the same ache and pain that I have been blighted with since about my 4th month after taking up running in 2010. It got me around Guernsey Marathon though and was no worse for it after. So why then, now that I have tried to cut back on racing (before the Exeter Half I hadn't raced for 3 weeks, a reasonable gap, I feel), does just the one race take me from being injury and pain free in my achillies to the worst state ever with it? It's unfathomable!

In conclusion: running is a decidedly frustrating sport: one minute things are going superbly, you are totally on track with your training and you are feeling great; the next, you pick up an injury by busting a gut for a PB that doesn't even count anyway, then you under-perform on your first appearance running for your county, and it all starts unraveling spectacularly before your very eyes. Why do I do it? Simple really: because when I am not running I am the crabbiest person ever - as this injury has shown! - and so I know I need to focus on getting this sorted and getting back to doing what I love pronto!

2013: A year of opportunities?!

And so 2013 is now well underway. Yesterday we saw the welcome back of my least favourite month of the year and from now on the evenings continue to get lighter and, hopefully, the weather will continue to improve... or at least get warmer.

I started 2013 off on the other side of the world, in the Maldives. We had a 3 week, highly indulgent all-inclusive holiday, that ended up being a 3 week 3 day all-inclusive holiday as we had a 3 day flight delay! The island we stayed on was only 500m long by 150m wide and had no gym. There is no tarmac or any firm surface and so all I had to run on was the sandy covered jetty or the sandy track down the middle of the island. For some reason, my achillies tendonitus never reacts well to the Maldives. Last year I really did it in, trying in vain to keep running on it when it was getting more and more tender. As a result, I returned from the 3 weeks in January to run the First Chance 10k in absolute agony. I turned out a time of 40:10, over 2 minutes below my best which was set on the same course in summer. Wanting to avoid a repetition of this this year, I limited myself to just one run of 30 minutes every 3 - 4 days this time. The result was that my achillies did not flare up quite as badly but I returned to the U.K. with a massive drop in fitness.

Attempting to run on holiday, but my achillies tendonitus did not like the sand!

Makes for a different outlook than the Exmouth promenade anyway!

At first I panicked. One of the biggest gigs of the year - the First Chance 10k - was 10 days after I landed back in the U.K. 10 days to get fit again... hmm, not likely. So when I lined up on the start line on January 20th, against some of the top female competition in Devon, I knew I had my work cut out! Before I went away I had really hit a vein of form. This had largely been due to a revision of my training regime which saw me cut back the mileage in the Autumn months to just 20 - 30 a week over 3 running days, and saw me concentrating on quality miles rather than quantity, with cross-training and yoga to supplement. Training with my second claim running club, South West Road Runners, at their coached Wednesday track session also sharpened up my speed over the shorter distances, and doing my reps with my friends and track partners, Lucy Commander and Alex Cutts, helped no end. It really helps to train with females who you regularly compete against and who are of a similar level. I knew that Lucy was in superb shape going into First Chance and that she was hoping to set a new PB and go sub 37 minutes for the first time. I also knew that I wasn't!! Not in my best shape, not in PB shape, and certainly not in sub-37 minute shape. However, I also knew that they pick the Devon team for the Plymouth Hoe 10 mile Devon versus Cornwall Pneinsula Challenge after this race and so the eyes of the selectors are very much upon you: just to add to the pressure! After not being selected last year (precisely because I lost fitness whilst on holiday and churned out a below-par performance at First Chance), I really wanted to make the team this year, but with only 4 places up for grabs and about 8 females in serious contention for these places, my chances of being selected, given my decreased fitness, were not favourable. But I decided to give it my best shot!

Before this race, however, there was the small matter of the 'Oh My Obelisk' race. Don't be fooled by the twee name as behind this rather quaint nomenclature lurked a brutally tough, muddy, hilly off-roader around Dawlish and Haldon Forest. Billed as a 10 miler it in fact came in at 1.5 miles longer than that and, as the longest run I had done of any description since Guernsey in August, it was a tough re-introduction to racing after 3 weeks of putting my feet up and swilling endless G and Ts! I navigated all the tricky, technical off-road sections without a hitch, but then, just 2 miles from home, on one of the few tarmac stretches, I put my foot on the edge of a puddle that concealed a pothole, turned my ankle and went careening into the hedge, vociferating a few expletives as I did so! A quick self-assessment - am I ok? can I put weight on it? can i walk on it? can I run on it? can I run fast and hold onto my lead on it? - returned the verdict that yes, I could. So I power-limped the remaining 2 miles and crossed the finish line in pain but still in the lead (which is what counts!). That night, however, I was in utter agony and couldn't even tolerate the weight of my quilt on it, let alone stand and weight-bare on it. A few more expletives were uttered and a few objects might have been hurled (including the ice-pack, which I deemed to be totally useless...) as I contemplated the prognosis. 'Will have to pull out of First Chance'. 'Have already lost loads of fitness, now I just want to be able to get stuck in again and I bloody-well can't'. 'Well, that's the chance of a PB at London down the drain'.... and a whole manner of other similar doom-and-gloom conclusions. Fortunately, it turned out to be a minor sprain and when I woke up the next morning, it was still sore, but I could hobble on it. A trip to the physio and some ultrasound treatment saw me back running on it by the Thursday and then towing the line of the First Chance 10k by the Sunday. Phew. Panic over. Sometimes I wonder if I over-react to things....

Finishing the 11.5 mile 'Oh My Obelisk' race: clearly in pain from my ankle

And so to First Chance. Well, I went off hard, hoping to hang onto Lucy for as long as possible. This did not turn out to be very long at all as she was absolutely on fire and by the 1km point she was already away and gone. I found myself in 2nd place here but could hear the distinct sound of female breathing right behind me, so I knew I wasn't safe! And sure enough, as my kilometer splits started to drop off due to the lack of speed-endurance in my legs, I got overhauled by the Erme Valley Harrier athlete, Alison McEwing. Alison and I have had some great battles as, generally, we are pretty evenly matched and who comes out on top at a given race usually depends upon who is at a fitness peak at that time and who is not. It keeps us both on our toes and I'm sure we have pushed each other to better times and performances in many races. On this occasion, I was in a fitness trough and so at about 4k Alison came up along side me and then gradually began to pull away and I couldn't stay with the pace. By the end of the race Lucy was a clear winner in a massive new PB of 36:52, with Alison in 2nd in 37:49 and me holding on for 3rd in 38:06. I was frankly amazed to get within 2 seconds of my August 2011 PB given the shape I was in... or rather, wasn't in. Although I was fighting hard for the line to try and get under 37, I have to be pleased with just how close I did get given my preparation for this race. It was certainly a massive confidence boost to know that I don't have as much work to do as I feared and that a few weeks of solid training should see me sharpen up in time for my next big races.

Start of the First Chance 10k on the Exeter canal / river bank

5k point on the unforgiving 2-lap First Chance course

8k point of First Chance, having been ditched by the sub-38 minutes group I was trying to hang onto to! Next time, next time...

And to the next big surprise. I went up to bed one night to find a voice-mail message from Dave Phillips - the Devon team selector - to say that he would like to speak to me via-à-vis me representing Devon at the Plymouth Hoe race! What an utter shocker! I couldn't dial his number fast enough and also couldn't believe it. Only finishing 3rd at First Chance, I assumed the team places would go to Lucy, Alison and two other fast Devon girls who don't run First Chance but have been on the team for several years and perform consistently well at all races. Fortunately, Dave knew that I had just returned from a long break and that I wasn't at full fitness and so with some assurances from me that I will be come race day (17th Feb.), I'm on the squad!!

And so, having never run for Devon before I am shortly to make my debut for the county team on both the road (the Plymouth Hoe 10) and the cross-country (the Birmingham inter-counties championships). Is 2013 to be a year of opportunities? I bloody well hope so!! My new job has certainly opened the door for more opportunities to compete. At Sherborne I had to work both days, every weekend during term time, and so competing was restricted to holidays. As a result, I tended to cram in races whenever I could during school breaks, resulting in me doing too much within a short space of time and invariably ending up injured. Now I have every evening and weekend free, I can be selective about which races I do and plan my season in advance and my training around it in a far more measured approach. (Hmm... 'me' and 'measured': two words I previously never envisaged co-existing within the same sentence!)

I have many plans for 2013. Obviously my big goal for the Spring is the London Marathon. Training towards this has now started in earnest and my weekly mileage is now back up to 40+ and climbing steadily. Now, on reflection, the enforced rest in the Maldives has been no bad thing as my legs are feeling fresh and raring to tackle all that I have to throw at them. I have been reaping massive benefits from the S.W.R.R.'s marathon training programme, led by David Moulder. Dave is very knowledgeable, enthusiastic and encouraging, and all his sessions are extremely well organised. On Monday there is a marathon-focussed track session and on Saturday morning, a long run. Dave plans the routes beforehand, provides us with instructions and maps (not that he has any control over whether us runners can follow / read these instructions and maps however!) and he even goes around the route beforehand painting directional arrows on the road and depositing drinks stations! It makes it much easier to just rock up and run!

After London, we'll see. I'd quite like to try some new events this spring / summer, in addition to doing a couple of my favourites (the Snowdon Fell Race being top of that list!). But one thing I have decided is that I am not doing any ultras this year. I feel like a fraud for typing this, given the title and ethos of my blog, but I think a one year break from the uber-long stuff will do my legs good and will allow me to work on improving my PBs at the shorter distances. Having only been running seriously for 2 1/2 years, I am also still very inexperienced and lacking in base miles in my legs to do really well on the ultra scene without risking injury at the moment. There is plenty of time for all that fun and games when I am no longer producing PBs!

... And right now I am scaring myself with my new-found sensibleness and prudence. Who is this person?! What have you done with the Ellie who thinks she is invincible and that the advice and rules that others should heed do not apply to her?! It's a mystery!

Trails and tribulations... and the odd triumph!

Well, I believe that on marathon weary legs, after a disastrous Guernsey Marathon, I emphatically announced  that I was not doing any more long stuff until the new year and that my aim for the autumn season was to get back to enjoying my running by hitting the trails and reconnecting with what running should be about: moving freely through the great outdoors. I can happily announce that I have succeeded in these goals. I have thoroughly enjoyed the past few months which have been packed with some pleasing bonus performances over the 10k distance but have mostly been crammed with lots of fun, muddy and beautiful trail runs around the Devonshire countryside.

The off-road season got under way in September with the fun and fast Jurassic Coast 10k, where I was amazed to set a new female course record: was not expecting that at all! Then in October came one of the best running days out of the year with 24 Exmouth Harriers all hiring a mini-bus and heading to Somerset and Dorset for the Parrett Trail relays. This event covers a distance of 52 miles from Steart on the North Somerset coast, to Winyards Gap, in deepest Dorset - not too far from my old home in Sherborne, with the distance split into 6 legs of varied terrains and distances.

Team spirit really was the order of the day with the Harriers fielding 4 teams of 6 runners, each taking on one leg of the relay. Legs varied from 5.8m (the shortest) to 9.1 miles (the longest). Legs 1-4 were all totally flat, 5 had one major hill on it but the remainder was flat, and 6 was predominantly hill - so you can probably guess which one I ended up on?!

But given the choice, I would happily opt for leg 6 again. Yes, it was hilly, but it was so varied, with river-side tracks, boggy fields, rutted and ploughed fields, church yards, railway lines, waist-high grass, streams and country lanes to traverse. No chance of getting bored! Also, the entire route is self-navigated and there are only very few marshalls here and there for safety at the major A-road crossings, so you have to keep alert as it's easy to venture off the path, as many runners do every year! I completed my 8.9 mile hilly leg in a time of 1h11; fastest female on that leg but our women's team finished in 3rd place overall. Our men's team did retain their trophy though, so the mood on the minibus on the way home (for those that were still awake - it was a long day!) was upbeat!

Nearing the end of my 8.9m Parrett Trail relay leg, leg 6

As endings go to a race, this one is particularly sneaky as the hill keeps getting steeper the further up it you go!

I'd just been told by a spectator here that the finish (and the pub!) was just around the corner!

Next on the agenda, at the start of November, was the Templer 10. I did this race back in 2010 when I'd only been running for a couple of months and I really enjoyed it. I remember being utterly thrilled to place 4th then as they had prizes for the top 5 in this race. I was eager to see how much I had improved over the past couple of years and how much faster I could go this year... Well, that didn't quite happen as cue the most torrential wet summer and autumn in my living memory and the ground was totally saturated and the fields were swampy, boggy and churned to pieces.

The route for this race - which is in fact 9.7 miles, but that doesn't lead to punchy alliteration for the title - is 3 miles of roads, 4 miles of fields and a couple of miles of gravel paths around Stover country park. The road and paths sections were ok, but the fields were a quagmire and, in road shoes, I was slipping and sliding all over the place and just couldn't get traction to push the pace. My pace dropped by over a minute a mile in this section and this meant the difference between me beating my time from 2 years ago and not. In the end, I missed it by 15 seconds, but I can take comfort from that fact that if I'd had the ideal conditions of 2010, I would definitely have been faster. Bloody British weather! I did, however, improve my place from 4th to 1st, so I couldn't ask for any more than that.

The interesting thing is that I finished exactly 1 second behind a guy called Rupert Kempley from Dartmouth AC. Following his navy and amber strip around much of the course was giving me the most curious and vehement pangs of déjà vu: I had been in this position before. After this race I got my "scrap book" out (oy! no sniggering there. I have never sought to hide the fact that I am an outrageous running geek - I have my own blog for starters, so I was bound to keep a scrapbook!). Looking back over previous race results I found that this was the third occasion that I had crossed the line exactly 1 second behind this navy and yellow vested individual! He also features in a fair few of my race photos! At this week's Cockington Caper race, we actually acknowledged and introduced ourselves for the first time and it turns out that he had also become increasingly aware of my presence chasing him down at the finish of races. "It's like having a flaming stalker! I swear, I turn around on a daily basis now, half expecting to see you there, snapping at my heels!" Apparently his club mates now delight in informing him of my presence at races: "She's here, your nemesis"!! Anyway, we had a good laugh about it and apparently Rupert even reads my blog, so Rupert, I believe I promised that I'd give you a mention. You also feature in quite a few of my photos, as you are always just right there in front! But, at least it means we are both consistent and not getting any slower!

About to finish 1 second behind Rupert Kempley of Dartmouth AC at the Templer 10 race... and not for the first time!

Two weeks later and it was time for the Drogo 10. Starting and finishing at Castle Drogo, this is a truly stunning trail race in a spectacular setting, but it's brutally tough. There are 3 killer climbs over the 10 miles and other undulations in between, bringing the overall feet of climb to 1500ft: half the height of Mount Snowdon. The race starts with an insanely steep and technical descent down into the Teign Valley. I found that I would work hard on the climbs, digging in, breathing hard, arms pumping, and gain a few meters on the male runners around me, only for them to put the foot to the floor and overtake me again on the descents and regain the distance and more besides within seconds. It seemed so unfair that I was doing all the hard work and they were essentially just making better use of gravity and gaining the advantage! Downhill running, at speed, on uneven surfaces is definitely something I need to work on.

I knew that the talented Tavistock AC runner, Jo Meek, was on the start line for this one and so I never expected to win, but I was pleased to get within less than 2 minutes of her over the 10 miles as last year she had a 4 minute advantage over me at the Haytor Heller race over just 6 miles, so I must be improving. I was very happy to take 2nd spot to her and even happier for my Harries team mate, Hannah Bown, to get third and for us and Hannah's sister, Emma, to claim the top female team prize. Victories are always great, but nothing puts you quite on the same high as a victory shared with team members. Also, I managed to beat that Kempley fellow (!!) by 30 seconds - the first time I have finished in front of him and not chased him in to the line!

We were very lucky with the weather for the Drogo: a perfectly cold, crisp, sunny autumnal day; ideal for trail racing! 

About 500m from the finish, having just climbed the gruelling 'Hunter's Path Hill' at the Drogo 10

The last trail race of the season was the 7.25 mile Cockington Caper. Although almost 3 miles shorter than the Drogo, the overall distance climbed is in fact more: 1600ft in total. This race is pretty relentless. With the Drogo, there are 3 main climbs but the bits in between are fairly flat. At Cockington you are either going up a hill or coming down the other side of it; there's only one short section between miles 5 and 6 along the river bank that is flat(ish). 

I did this race last year as my first comeback race after being off sick for a couple of months (won't go into details again, but basically landed myself in hospital with a severe kidney infection after running the Snowdonia Marathon on antibiotics for a water infection... not my finest call). After I was discharged I was off work and at home recuperating for 2 weeks but it took a good month for me to finally feel 'right' again. So, going into Cockington, I knew I had lost fitness, so I was shocked to find myself leading the race from the outset, particularly so as it was a quality field with Wendy Urban and Lucy Commander on the start line. I lead until mile 7 when, with only a quarter of a mile to go, Wendy Urban passed me on the last climb as I was struggling with my lack of fitness and sports asthma, and she went on to take the win with me coming 2nd just 4 seconds behind her. So this year, I had some unfinished business with the course!

I felt fitter than ever this time around and so I felt confident that I could not only win it but hopefully knock a few minutes off my time from last year. Two things put pay to this: 1: the organisers modified the route at the start to add in yet another colossal hill, 2: I went off course and ended up in the thick shrubbery in some woods and lost valuable time (I estimate about a minute). That'll teach me not to blindly follow the guy in front, assuming he knows where he's going! We knew we'd gone wrong when the path suddenly came to an abrupt end and we were in the middle of a dense thicket of brambles. This guy started to shout for help and I started 'f-ing' and blinding, thinking that I was about to concede my first place whilst faffing around in the forest. Fortunately the Torbay runner who was about 100m behind me appeared above us at the top of the ravine which indicated to us where the path was. Instead of back-tracking I decided to just plough on up and make my own path through the brambles. Once I crested the top of the hill I put the hammer down, knowing I had only about a mile left to go. I had easily been on course to break my 2011 time but, as with the Templer 10, circumstances had seemingly conspired to prevent this from happening. In the end I finished 12 seconds slower than last year, but I did manage to net the top female spot... and I also managed to beat that Kempley again! (Are you still reading this, Rupert, or have I put you off?!!) ;-)

It's a fun race and thoughtfully organised in 3 large loops that have you running back and forth through the start / finish area, so that spectators get to cheer you on at multiple opportunities. You also get to choose your own prizes from a table of running accessories, so I bagged myself a nice new pair of running sunnies for my hols!

Coming through the race HQ area at the end of the first short loop

Passing through race HQ again after loop 2, about 3 miles into the race

And approaching the finish of the Cockington Caper: 7.25m / 1600ft. 59m13s

First Devon vest!

Yesterday I earned my first Devon county vest after placing in the top 8 Devon finishers (4th, to be exact) at the Devon County Cross-Country championships, held in Exeter.

It was a day of many 'firsts': my first time doing XC since secondary school, where I only made a grand total of 3 performances (one each year for years 7, 8 and 9); first time wearing spikes; first time competing against such a competitive field and, the final first, Exmouth Harriers ladies were the first female team, claiming team gold! Can I hear a 'whoop' please?!!

The course, which took place on the Exhibition Playing Fields, next to Exeter athletics arena, was a nasty one! Not one bit of it was flat. It basically weaved its way like a snake from the bottom of the field, up hill to the very top, back down to the bottom again, and back up to the top. 4 big loops forming a circuit which had to be completed twice, with lots of twists and turns and plenty of mud, totalling 5k in distance. Too short! I hate 5ks on the tarmac as they just represent 18-19 glorious minutes of asthmatic wheezing, but on the mud they are even worse as to keep up the same pace requires about 15-20% more effort. In short: they hurt!

On the start line with my fellow Harriers teamies, like a hunting pack!

I managed to get myself to the front on the start line of my race, which was shared with the under 17 men, senior ladies and masters ladies. The gun went and I was shocked by how furious the pace was from the start. The under-17 lads all shot off the front, but so did loads of women, and within the space of 5 meters I found myself in about 50th and going backwards! They were all fighting to get to the front for the first tight turn about 100m from the start. I was in the middle of the pack but managed to find a good line to it but I was scared stiff about getting someone's spikes in my leg as we all became congested in the bottle-neck. Fortunately I didn't and after this the course dragged uphill for 400m and so the field started to spread out.

In the chaos of the start, I had lost track of all my competition, but now as we started to string out I started to pick people off. Firstly I overhauled a couple of Exeter University runners,then my team mate, Hannah, who had sensibly started fast and got herself to the front for the first turn, and then my track training partner, Lucy, from South West Road Runners (now my 2nd claim club). I did get past Lucy but never managed to put any real distance between us. At this point, my team mate and super-star vet athlete, Cathy, came up onto my shoulder and then passed me and I dug in to stay in contact with her for most of the race. So the battle turned out to be a bit close to home with my team mate, Cathy, and my training partner and friend, Lucy, as my nearest competition!

Starting the second of 2 long loops, trying to hang on to Cathy and an Exeter Harriers athlete, with Lucy just behind hanging onto me.

Before the race I foolishly hadn't had time to walk / study the course and I didn't really understand the course map, which looked more like an algebraic equation than a running route (complete 2 x ABCD, then BC, F. Err... E = MC2?) ! But my Dad, bless him (uttered between gritted teeth!), believed he had it sussed and talked me through it, saying when you come down the hill for the last time there is an added loop through the woods before heading to the finish. Wrong. I came down the hill for the last time and suddenly, without gravity's assistance, I completely hit the wall. This was the most dramatic 'hitting of a wall' I have ever had in a short race. I just had nothing left in the lungs. Thinking I had another loop of the woods to complete, I backed off the pace, at which point Lucy surged past me. It was then that I realised she was kicking for the finish and I was in fact on the home straight: there was no extra loop. I then managed to dig deep and find something extra (as you always can when a finish line is wafted under your nose!) but Lucy had got the gap and Cathy in front had kicked too and I left it too late to react to them. I did manage to  hold off the runner behind me who was finishing fast though and I finished 8th lady overall, out of the Cornish and the Devon runners, and 3rd senior Devon female, earning myself a bronze medal for my 18:58 minute's worth of sheer, tortuous pain!

Definitely not my best angle! Nearing the end: knackered, at the upper end of my limits!

The final surge for the finish line: hallelujah!

The icing on the cake was that both Cathy, myself and Hannah all earned ourselves the gold medal in the women's team competition and we each got 1 of the 8 available places for selection to run for Devon at the South-West inter-county XC championships at Bicton in January and at the national inter-counties championships, alongside all the country's top elite athletes, at Birmingham in March. Unfortunately I will on holiday for the January match: typical, first Devon vest and I ain't in the country to wear it! But I will definitely be taking up my team place with pride in Birmingham. Unfortunately the Birmingham race is the day before the Grizzly, so that one might have to be shelved for another year. The crazy part of me, the part that believes I am invincible, says I could do both the XC on the Saturday and the Grizzly on the Sunday, but the more rational me says that that is likely to break me totally and jeopardise my chances in London a few weeks later, so I fear the Grizzly might be a no go for 2013.

So, have I managed to replace the horror memories of school cross-country with nice, shiny new positive memories? Yes and no! It still hurts like hell and, whilst running it, there wasn't a single moment of it that I could say I actually enjoyed, but the feeling of satisfaction and achievement you get afterwards definitely makes up for the pain. In trail races, and in many local road races, the gaps between your rivals can reach epic distances (I once won a marathon with a 28 minute cushion between myself and 2nd place), but in XC, you don't get that. The competition is tight, you can see your rivals the whole way round as the course is so open (no bends to hide behind!), and you have to fight fight fight for every second and every place. Cathy finished 2 places ahead of me, yet the time gap between us was just 4 seconds: you don't often get that in local road or trail races. Yes it hurts, yes its unpleasant, yes it's a total asthma attack from start to finish, but at least the pain is short lived. Only 18m58s worth on this occasion! Hopefully less next time!

The Exmouth Harriers female team: Devon County XC champions 2012!

It was my first attempt at true, competitive cross-country, so I didn't know what to expect and it was a steep learning curve! What I learned from this outing is that I need to go out harder from the gun next time so that I don;t end up so far down the field before the first technical section and so I don't spend the first mile having to pick people off again by going wide on the turns. I also learned that I need to really study the course better next time and not rely on my Dad to give me the relevant information and advice! Hopefully I won't be caught out next time!

So, I guess that now I have earned myself this 'ere vest I am going to have to embrace more of this pain and do it justice in Birmingham! Roll on 2013!

Less is more, apparently!

It's been a while since my last post but the silence is not due to the fact that all has been quiet on the running front: far from it! I took a welcome 2 week break from training after returning from Guernsey and did little more than a few 5 mile (ish) 9m/m plods, just to keep the legs ticking over whilst also allowing them and my tired and aching body to recover.

As I mentioned before, I decided not to run the Snowdonia Marathon, which, incidentally, is taking place in 2 days time, and now the date is drawing near, I of course wish that I was running it! I know I will be glued to the TV screens on Sunday night, watching the S4C highlights programme of the race on Sky. I also know that if the winning female time is no faster than my 3h13 from last year, I will be kicking myself and wishing I'd run! But I am learning that you cannot do it all and that a bit of moderation has to come into play if I want to have a long, healthy and injury free running career.

Kicking back a bit and cutting back the mileage has also shown to me that less really is more and that it is indeed quality and not quantity that counts. For the past 5 - 6 weeks I've only been running 20-30 miles a week, whereas previously 30 miles has always been a "bad" week and the absolute minimum mileage I would do. I have tried to make those 20-30 miles count though, by doing one track session a week, one long run a week - which, at no more than 10 miles is in fact just a medium run by my usual standards! - and either a tempo run around Killerton at the Saturday Parkrun or a race to round off with. In between running days I have been swimming, cross-training in the gym, cycling into Exeter and back on a regular basis, and doing yoga once a week. I remain unconvinced by this latter's benefits - 7 weeks in and as yet I have not seen any noticeable improvements in my balance and/or core strength. I still wobble and topple over into an embarrassing heap, rather like Bambi trying to stand for the first time, when we do the balance work; meanwhile, all the middle-aged rather less athletic-looking women in the class are nailing these poses with a level of style and finesse that I could only aspire to... It's bloody embarrassing. As a child, my mother sent me - against my will, it must be said - to ballet, and I don't recall having any difficulties with posture and poise then. In fact, I think I whizzed through the grades with 'highly commended's; so why aren't I as flexible, balanced, poised and elegant as my 4 year old self? Humph. And as for the "relaxation" part: I find that bit hilarious! How can you relax under strobe lighting in a sports hall when the serenely melodic music is punctuated by the not-so-melodic grunting of old men playing tennis right behind the flimsy piece of curtain that is all that separates us?! I remain sceptical as to the merits of yoga as a lifestyle choice and, with the best will in the world, I will never be "Zen".

Although, jokes aside, I have been having a successful autumn season as far as racing is concerned, so maybe the yoga is doing something. Since the Guernsey Marathon wrapped at the end of August, I have competed in five races; four 10ks and one 10.25 mile. Of those five, I have won four and come second at one. Not a bad tally I guess. I was just as pleased, if not more pleased, with my 2nd place, which was an all ladies event in Newton Abbot. I was up against some stuff competition at this race, which included Heather Fell, the silver medallist in the Olympic Modern Pentathlon from Beijing, 2008. It also featured the number 1 ranked vet 55 athlete in the UK over the 10k and half-marathon distance, Anne Luke. Age is clearly no barrier to this talented lady and I used her as my bench mark in the race, trying to hang onto her and sit on her shoulder for as long as I could. That turned out to be until 6k when she started to open up a slight gap that I could not close again. However, I finished just 13 seconds behind her, which is the closest I have ever got to her in race, which is progress! And yes, she may be 26 years my senior, but she is so phenomenal I just see her as tough competition and someone to aspire to. It also gives me hope that if I look after myself, I may still be running and competing in 26 years time, and, like Anne, I may then be giving the 29 year olds something to worry about!

I have also managed to set 2 new female course records in 2 of the 5 races. I have held course records before but only by default, in that I have won an inaugural race and so naturally, with no previous time on the course, my winning time has become the record. However, I have never before broken a pre-existing course record and, in the past few weeks, I've broken two! The first of these was at the Jurassic Coast 10k, where I took 10 seconds off the previous record that had stood since 2008. Then just this last Sunday I took 1 minute 27 seconds off the previous female course record at the Dartmoor Vale 10k. Both were nice surprises as I had no idea what the records were and attempting to break them was not on my agenda, so I only found out after the race. It really is a boost and a sign that things are going well and that I am moving forward with my running. So the past couple of months have told me that the theory that upping the miles does not equate to upping the speed and that superfluous junk mileage can in fact be detrimental to performance has some, er, mileage in it!

The one thing I did not manage to achieve this year, and which I was really going for at the Dartmoor Vale race, was a new 10k PB. So far this year I have set new PBs at the 5k, 10 mile, half-marathon and marathon distances; the only one that still eluded me was the 10k. I hadn't realised when I posted my 38:04 time at the Exeter 10k in August 2011 just what a bench mark I'd set for myself. I was in great form last August and all came good on the day and I remember that run feeling quite comfortable and so I thought it would only be a matter of time before I went under 38 minutes this year. A bad start to the year and problems with my achillies after it totally stiffened up on the long-haul flight back from the Maldives in January meant that I did not perform well at the First Chance 10k race a few days later (40:10 on the same course as my Exeter 10k PB, not good. I even managed to do 39:45 on that course in January 2011 when I had only been running for half a year, so this year was a real shocker).
I then targeted the Crewkerne 10k in May, when I was on excellent form at the height of my build up to the D.D., but I hadn't bargained for such a hilly course - the event even started with a 'King / Queen of the Hill' race-within-a-race, not a good opener for a PB attempt! I ran 40:18 which would most certainly have been worth 2-3 minutes on a flat course as the whole thing was so hilly.
Next came the Exeter 10k in August but this year, unlike the last event, I was not in good shape. It was just before Guernsey and my legs were trashed. I managed 38:48 and I think that was the best I could have hoped for considering how stiff and heavy my legs felt just warming up for it.
Next shot - the Ladies 10k. Late September, in good fitness, should be doable... er, no! Queue the most horrendous weather I've competed in this side of Snowdonia and the driving rain and gale force winds, coupled with the undulating course, did not make for PB friendly conditions. So time was running out, only one last attempt at a sub-38 minute clocking in 2012 and that was to be at this weekend's Dartmoor Vale race.
I went for it. I went out hard from the gun - 5.45m/m, maybe a bit too hard! - and was totally fired up. I had good competition there pushing me around - Jaine Swift of Erme Valley, who has beaten me in the last 2 races I've competed against her in - amongst others, were on my tails and the weather conditions were ideal. The only thing that wasn't ideal were the two small hills on the course. Nothing major, wouldn't even notice them on a training run or in a marathon, but when you are at your limits they can quickly break you. It's never a good sign when a bloke overtakes you on a hill and offers you a puff of his inhaler. I did try to explain in as few words as possible, between the wheezing, that I suffer from sports asthma and always sound like a dying steam-engine that needs to be retired and sold off for scrap, but he still looked concerned... My pace dropped to 6:20m/m on the two hills and that was enough to drop the overall average pace to just bellow my target. I crossed the line in 38:10: an agonising 6 seconds shy of my PB and just 11 seconds short of a sub-38. So, not to be for 2012, but it gives me a goal for 2013 and an incentive to keep the hill, track and speed work up over winter!

So, here is a summary of my racing achievements in September and October:
9th September: The Force 10k @ Powderham Castle. 1st lady, 11th overall in 39:32.
15th September: Jurassic Coast 10k. 1st lady, 8th overall and new female course record in 40:26.
24th Septmber: Newton Abbot Ladies 10k. 2nd lady, 2nd overall in 39:22.
7th October: Teign Valley Toddle 10.25 miles. 1st lady, 6th overall in 1:08:49.
21st October: Dartmoor Vale 10k. 1st lady, 11th overall and new female course record in 38:10.

And now for some piccies!

With some fellow Harriers at the Powderham Castle 10k.

Budleigh Salterton: the stunning setting for the Jurassic Coast 10k. If you look closely you can see us runners as distant specks making our way up the cliff path!

Finishing the Jurassic Coast 10k and setting a new female course record!

Leading out the Newton Abbot Ladies 10k on a wet and blustery day!

At the half way point, crossing over the River Teign, in the Teign Valley Toddle 10.25 mile.

Ann Widdecombe gets us under way at the Dartmoor Vale 10k.

With Cathy and Berihu after the Dartmoor Vale 10k. Berihu won and set a new male course record of 33:30. I won the female race and set a new female course record of 38:10. Cathy was 1st Vet 50 and 4th female overall! A good day at the Harriers office!

Receiving my prize from Widders! She was a great sport, presented all the medals and prizes chatted to everybody!