On on to Autumn!

So, Guernsey is thankfully out of the way and with it any obligation to run anything of length until the New Year. I am currently entered into the Snowdonia Marathon. As I placed in the top 5 last year (3rd, to be precise), I was given a free entry to this year's race, which I took up with a view to deciding whether or not I wanted to run it nearer the time. It is now nearer the time and I have decided: I am not doing it!

Don't get me wrong, I do want to run, more than ever. It is one of my favourite races and, after Guernsey, which will always hold a soft spot in my heart, despite this year's shocker, it is my 2nd favourite marathon. The organisation is second to none and the route is simply stunning. Of course, it also endears itself to me as it sets off in Llanberis, where I was lucky enough to live for a time whilst studying for my PhD in Bangor, and it contours around Mount Snowdon: my favourite location in the UK. The nature of the terrain and the unforgiving weather conditions which tend to be characteristic of this event, also make it special. They were certainly true to form last year when driving rain and gale force winds buffetted us around the 26.2 mile course. Which ever direction I ran in, it seemed to always be into a headwind: unfathomable! I also managed to double the weight I was carrying as an ill-informed choice of clothing - that I thought was wicking fabric but was in fact not - apparently absorbed every drop of rain water and retained it, like a sponge, further adding to my discomfort! But despite all of this, I bloody loved it!

Snowdonia always attracts a top quality field and on the women's side last year there were a handful of sub-3h marathon runners lining up alongside experienced mountain marathon and fell runners and so my hope was to maybe sneak in to the top 5, but to finish 3rd was better than I could have ever hoped for. I was lying in 5th until the final 4 miles which are the steepest on the course and see you climb 1000ft to cross over Moel Eilio and rejoin the Llanberis side of the mountain. On this climb I overhauled 2 other runners who, on paper, were much faster marathoners that myself, but who, on the day, just didn't have the legs for this steep climb. I think that's where all the D.D. training had an advantage!

On the final descent off a wild, wet and windy mountain in the Snowdonia Marathon 2011. Just 1.5 miles to go!

Earlier in the year my plan was to return to Wales in October to try and better my 3rd place and to give it a good crack at victory. However, I am a spent force. I don't need to reiterate again how difficult Guernsey was this year. Last year I ran that on fresh legs then immediately picked up the training for Snowdonia. Right now, even 10 mile runs are feeling long and so another marathon this side of Christmas is out of the question.

I also want to avoid a repeat of last year whereby I crammed 3 races, including the Snowdonia marathon, into the 1 week of October half term. Before half-term week I had picked up a water infection and ran these 3 races whilst on antibiotics. (Shame they didn't also prescribe anti-idiotics!) After crossing the Snowdonia finish line, I went back to Moira's, showered, stuffed a bowl of pasta down my face then went to collect my prize. From the prize ceremony, Moira drove me straight to Bangor station where I got the train home, eventually getting in 8 hours later at 1am, then driving straight back to work again the next morning. I was beyond knackered. One week later I found myself in hospital with a severe kidney infection, eventually spending 4 days in there receiving intravenous antibiotics and then needing a further 2 weeks off work to recuperate. I had clearly overdone it! So recognising that I am tired now and pulling out of Snowdonia is a good thing: it means that I am finally learning to be sensible and recognise that I - yes, even I - have limits!

On the home straight up Llanberis High Street. Soaked to the bone, exhausted, cold and gritting my teeth. This marathon is a toughie - but I LOVED it!

That is not to say I do not have other plans to keep me busy through the Autumn season though. I want to just get back to enjoying my running and not associate it with constant pain and discomfort. A two week almost total rest period after Guernsey has already paid off as I was able to go out and take a comfortable victory at the Powderham Castle 10k on Sunday, finishing 9th overall in a field of 306 in 39:32. And I enjoyed it! I felt up for it and raring to race. By the end of the summer, toeing a startline had started to feel like a perfunctory task and I just wasn't getting fired up for it: I was just going through the motions.

With fellow Harriers at the Powderham Castle 10k: a lovely run.

So my plans for the Autumn are to build up some strength and base miles in the legs to take me into winter and the New Year by running lots of long, steady miles on the cliffs and by racing some 10 mile distance tough, off-road races. These are both fun to take part in and also invaluable in terms of building up strength and stamina that I will then be able to build on when it is time to pick up the structured training again in January.

At the moment I am planning on racing the Jurassic Coast 10k this Saturday followed by the Newton Abbot Ladies' 10k the following week. This is a great race that was my 4th ever race back in 2010 and I also finished 4th in it. It's nice to get a rare opportunity to just race against women on the roads, as we often play second fiddle to the males and have our own race-within-a-race but never get to race each other outright. After that I will have a week off, maybe run the 5k Killerton Parkrun just for fun, and then in October I will be running a 10 mile leg of the Parrett Trail relays for the Harriers' mixed team, running the 10.25 mile Teign Valley Toddle and then either the Dartmoor Vale Half marathon or the Exmoor Stagger 15.5 mile multi-terrain fell race. November will likely be the Drogo 10 and our own Harriers' hosted event, the 10.5 mile Bicton Blister.  So, lots of fun times ahead, lots of mud and lots of catching up with some good friends on the race circuit.

 On on to Autumn!!

One marathon too many...

On Sunday 26th August, over in the Channel Islands, was the annual Guernsey Marathon. I took part in this race last year and, to my surprise and delight, won it. It was such a stunning course and so well organised and friendly that I decided to sign up again this year and to go and try and defend my title... oh, the rather nice sum of money I won last year might have also played a small part in luring me back!

This year, however, I knew that the task of winning again would be very tough as I had much stiffer competition in the form of Shona Crombie-Hicks. Shona is a vet 40 athlete from Bourton Road Runners who boasts a marathon PB of 2:38 and has previously represented Scotland at the Commonwealth Games in Melbourne, Austrailia. Last year she won and set a course record at the Jersey Marathon with a 2:53 clocking: 10 whole minutes faster than my winning Guernsey time. On paper she was the favourite. All I could hope was that with a good summer's build up I could chip some more time off my 2:59 PB and give her a decent run for her money (literally!).... er, yeah, didn't quite happen!

Unlike last year, I had a shocking summer's preparation as far as marathon training was concerned. Too many short, fast races that took more out of my legs than I anticipated meant that I could not fit the quality long runs in. My old achillies problem also started to really bother me big time and on 3 attempts at a long run I got to 15 miles, 11 miles and 8 miles respectively and had to abandon and call the trusty parents for a lift back home as I was in too much pain to run. So, on the back of one 17 miler, completed back in June, and two 15 milers in July, I toed the start line of Guernsey in some lacklustre attempt at being competitive alongside a former Commonwealth athlete! I give my self 10/10 for delusions of grandeur but 1/10 for realism!

The previous day, as I flew out to the island, the weather was horrendous. Gail force winds made for a rather exciting landing on the flimsy Flybe prop plane, but I had to count myself lucky that I booked flights and not the ferry as many ferries were cancelled or severely delayed. About 50 competitors didn't make the startline, stranded in Poole, and another batch only arrived at 11pm the night before the race. On race day it was an entirely different story, waking up to clear skies and temperatures in their low twenties. Suddenly the problem became one of being too hot, out on the open coast road with no shade from the sun.

Before the start of the race I was a little too relaxed... I was sat with Mum in the stand of Footes Land athletic stadium, turned to her and said 'You know, I can't really be bothered with this'. Not the best mental attitude to have before running 26.2 miles, but I guess it was my body's way of telling me that it was both physically and mentally tired after the tough schedule I'd subjected it to since the start of the year and it needed a break. I tried to appease it by promising it that if it got me around the course today it could have as much rest as it liked after. I think we struck a deal.

So to the start line and Lee Merrien - Guernsey's answer to a celebrity, having been selected to represent Britain in the Olympic Marathon where he went on to finish as top Brit - had the honours of blasting the starting horn and getting us underway. From Footes Lane, in the centre of the island, the route climbs uphill for the first 5 miles, through a wooded valley, to the airport: the highest point on the island and on the route. These first 5 miles, whilst uphill, were at least shady. Once we topped out at the airport and then hit the coast road there was no escape from the sun's rays beating down and already, at 9.30am, making me very hot.

Lee Merrien, Olympic Marathon runner and Guernsey athlete gets us under way

At 6 miles I'd already had enough. My legs just didn't feel fresh at all. Rewind to April and to Taunton and I was struggling to slow the speed in the early miles to below 6:40 m/m as my well-trained, tapered legs were just raring to go. Now I was struggling to keep the pace from creeping up to 7 m/m, and 6:50 m/m felt like a huge effort. My rival, Shona, had shot off like a bat out of hell at the start and I had no choice but to let her go. If I'd tried to go with her feeling as I did, I would have perished by mile 10! Until mile 7 I ran with a handful of other guys, we exchanged a few words, they probably thought that I was a total winge-bag for moaning about the heat and my legs feeling tired so soon into the race! One of them pointed out the view of a lighthouse, and it was indeed lovely, but feeling as bad as I did I just couldn't muster the enthusiasm to appreciate it. I felt like a right grizzly ball of negativity! Nevertheless, I dug in and actually started to pull away from them all until I found myself running entirely on my own from mile 10 onwards. They were probably glad to see me go!

Shona hits the front and I just have to watch her go as I can't match her pace on this occasion

I went through the halfway mark in 1:31: this was actually 2 minutes up on last year as I had pushed on harder over the first 5 miles this year. But boy did I then go onto pay for it in the latter half! By mile 14 I was really struggling. We were running directly into the sun from miles 10 through 18 and there was no shade. At each water station I was having a few gulps of water then tipping the remaining 500ml bottle over my head. I looked like a drowned rat! At mile 14.5, at Cobo Bay, my Mum was waiting. I had mixed feelings about seeing her: it was lovely to see a friendly face as, unlike when I run in Devon, nobody knows me here and so you do not get anyone shouting your name in encouragement, which can really be a boost. However, when I did see her the urge to stop and join her at the Cobo Bay tea rooms for a coffee was so overwhelming. Part of me wanted to stop for her to give me a hug and some supportive words, but I knew if I did, I'd never get going again. So instead I ran on past shouting, 'I'm bloody hating it. I'm too hot. I want to quit so badly.' And then I was past and running onwards to mile 15, with my Mum's voice, 'Stick at it. You can do it. Sutcliffes don't quit' echoing behind me!

Ok, not a keeper! Mile 14.5 at Cobo Bay and feeling shocking. Had just chucked a bottle of water over my head to try and cool me down. Felt dreadful. Look dreadful. Wanted to quit so badly!

Mile 15-16 was the worst one on the course. At one point there was a slight incline, pretty much negligible, but my legs were feeling so ropey that even this smallest slope was too much. I could feel them starting to slow and wanting to walk. Every fibre of my body wanted to walk and I knew how lovely it would feel to stop pushing and slow to a walk, but I also knew if I allowed it, I would never get going again. At this point I actually shouted at myself, 'NO! NO WALKING', just as a family was walking past on the adjacent footpath. The look the mother gave me as she steered her kids away from the mad woman was priceless! Yeah, whatever, I bet they had just pulled up in a car and were only strolling 5 minutes to the beach! Anyway, my little word with myself had worked as I kept on running, but the pace was slowly dropping off. After mile 14 I never got it below 7 m/m again. Mile 19 would normally be my nemesis mile but on this occasion it was a positive mile stone. I knew I wouldn't be "hitting the wall" here as I'd already hit it back at mile 6 and had been running into it ever since! This was in fact the first point on the course that I actually believed I would finish.

From mile 20 you turn back towards St. Peter Port and into a headwind, which, whilst having a cooling effect, also served to slow my times down. My slowest mile was mile 24: 7:43 m/m. Over the last 7 miles I even managed to pick off 3 other men, so I took comfort from the fact that whilst I had slowed, so had everyone else, but more so. I was slightly worried about the next female catching me up. Vicky Barrett from Jersey had placed 2nd to me last year in 3:16. I knew she had been in hard training for an autumn marathon and had been doing weekly long runs of 20 miles, so I feared that she might have it in her to catch me. As it was, she also struggled in the heat and was in fact a good 12 minutes behind me, but you never know this when you are running, you can only assume they are hot on your heels so you have to dig the hell in and keep going!

Into the stadium - what a glorious sight - and I barely had the energy to raise an arm in acknowledgement of the sympathetic crowd who cheered me as the announcer said over the tannoy: 'Big round of applause for our second female who was unable to defend her title this year despite a valiant effort'. 3:07:49 - exactly 4 minutes to the second slower than last year and over 8 minutes down on my PB, but considering the awful preparation I had and how bad I felt, I'm surprised I managed to limit the damage and keep that time to below 3:15, so I've got to be happy. And then, what I had been focussing on the whole way: a leg massage followed by a long sit down and a glass of chilled white wine. Aaaaaaah. Bliss.

Prize giving with Peter Head, the race director. Want to be back on the top of that podium next year!

Will I do it again next year? As I was running I told myself never again. Once I finished I thought, 'I can't leave it on this negative note; I have unfinished business now with the course', so I may well be back in 2013 to try and take the title back again!

A weekend of ups and downs

So, on the weekend of 17th - 19th August I headed south across the boarder to my homeland, Cornwall, to participate in an 11 mile cliff top trail race. The Roseland August Trail (the RAT) offered 11, 20 and 32 mile race options, all of them finishing at Porthpean where the race village was set up at the Porthpean outdoor centre and where camping was available for the bargain price of £5 per night.

This is the first time I have been back to Cornwall since February half-term when I came for a weekend break. I always feel a churning feeling in my stomach as I pass the 'Welcome to Cornwall' sign. Going back there, since my parents left in November 2009, has been strange each visit. It's all so very familiar, I grew up there and spent 25 of my 29 years there, and yet it all seems so distant from me now and I feel like I no longer belong there; I am just an erroneous guest in its midst.

Heading there this time brought mixed emotions. I caught up with some old friends, which was really lovely, but it also reminded me of how little I get to see them these days and how much I miss having them on the doorstep. Yes, Cornwall is only next door, it's just a 1h30m drive to St. Austell, but life gets in the way every time and I am lucky if I manage 2 or 3 visits a year. I also got to do a race on some of the most beautiful trails in the country: the Cornish coast path, finishing at Porthpean, which was my childhood beach where I spent many summers rockpooling, swimming in the sea, building sandcastles, collecting shells etc, but again, this just awakened memories of times missed and made me pine to still live here even more!

I was camping with a group of friends from my second claim running club, the Teignbridge Trotters. The weather was not exactly kind to us over the weekend. It rained whilst I was putting up my tent and it rained even harder the time it came to take it down! The view from the campsite, north up coast to Charlestown, Carlyon Bay, Par and the Gribben, was stunning, but for the most part obscured from view by the driving rain!

The event HQ and my tent: sea views... when the cloud and rain wasn't obscuring them!

It was a very surreal weekend in a way. The 3 races all set off at staggered starts with the idea that all the runners across the 3 distances would then converge on the finish at around the same time.This meant for those of us on the 11 mile race that we did not need to start running until 12.30pm. Having been awoken at 5am by the 32 milers who were all waking up, getting ready, having a safety briefing annoucned around the campsite on a loud speaker, it seemed like an eternity of waiting around before we could finally get on the bus to take us to the start, which was at Gorran Haven.

Ordinarily I would have been running the 20 or even the 32 mile option, but as I have Guernsey next week that was in no way possible. It didn't stop me from feeling like a bit of a fraud and a softie though as I set off on what was termed by those doing the longer distances as "the fun run" option!

As the bus dropped us off at Gorran I saw Fergie, one of the race organisers, who came up to me with a face of shock and said that one of the favourites on the 32 mile race had just collapsed, right there at the check point in Gorran. That was my first warning of how tough this route is: a top level ultra runner had pushed himself to breaking point, 21 miles into his 32 mile run. As we lined up on the slip way at Gorran Beach to start our more sedate 11 miles, Fergie warned us at the safety brief: 'Know your limits. Do not exceed them'. And so we set off up the hill out of of Gorran - the first hill of a great many - with this warning ringing in our ears...

When we left the campsite it was pouring with rain and quite chilly; by now the sun had burned through and it was starting to get hot and extremely humid. The compression arm sleeves I had put on before leaving, fearing that I would suffer from being too cold rather than too hot, were now redundant. As was the water proof jacket that was a mandatory piece of kit requirement. Both were quickly stuffed into my Camelbak as I crested the first hill and hit the coastal path, heading north towards Portmellon.

The first 3 miles were fairly easy; there were hills (when weren't there?!), but they were all runable. The climb up from Portmellon towards Mevagissey got me breathing harder, but was nothing that taxed me. I ran these first 3 miles with a fellow Trotter, Stewart Dunn. On the climb out of Mevagissey harbour I started to gain distance on Stewart and did not see him again until the finish. On the next stretch, around Dodman Point towards Pentewan, I picked off a great many runners from the 32 and 20 mile routes, who had set off earlier but running double or treble the distance, were now beginning to slow dramatically. I tried to impart some positive encouragement to each one I passed - and the passing was of course done at quite a lick as I had only been going for 4 miles and was on much fresher legs - and told them I was glad I was only doing the 11. This was partly true, I wasn't feeling my best, my legs were not fresh, I had raced too much leading up to it and wasn't even mentally fired up for it, let alone physically firing on all cylinders... but all the same, a large part of me still felt like a fraud for only doing a piffling 11 miler when there was a 32 mile D.D. length option of offer!

One of the roller-coaster Jacob's Ladder sections on the route

Summiting one of the horrendous jacob's ladders sections

After Pentewan, the hard work started. The hills were monstrous, many of them being like roller-coasters where you descended down 90 - 100 steps, then immediately climbed back up the same number on the other side. The steps prevented you from keeping to any kind of rhythm, but at least you could get a grip on them. On the steep hill sections without steps I tried to run but the tracks were so muddy and boggy that as fast as I was putting a foot forward, it was immediately sliding back down again. On some sections tt was almost impossible to get traction, even in trail shoes. I thought of the fun that Tarq must be having up ahead as he had, for some unfathomable reason, decided to wear zero grip, Brooks T7 racers. Crazy fool! I slipped and slided a whole bunch but fortunately managed to stay on my feet. This required a cautious approach, however, and meant I couldn't push on over the sections with slope or camber, so this definitely slowed me down. Fellies would have been a better option.

The route at Trennaren: not too far to go from here to the finish

Emerging from the undergrowth, just after Trenarren.

Because of the staggered start, it was hard to gauge my position in the 11 mile race. I knew about 10 people had gone off in front of me at the start, but with the colour coded numbers being worn on the front of vests, I did not always know whether the runners I was overhauling were people in my own race who had gone off too fast or people from the other distances. I guessed I was about 8th but upon crossing the line I was pleased to discover that I was 6th overall and 1st lady in the 11 miler in a time of 1:47:57. My slowest 11 miles ever!

                                      Finishing the race, right outside my tent: convenient!

As I crossed the line I felt shocking. Really dizzy and totally overheating. Only 11 miles, yes, but 11 of the toughest miles you could possibly run. This race is the same distance as the Snowdon Race, in which you summit and descend the highest mountain in England and Wales, and yet I ran that 11 minutes quicker - just to give you an idea of how tough this is! The biggest problem is that you could not establish any sort of rhythm as the terrain changed to radically, so frequently, totally messing up your legs and breathing. Despite this, my legs felt surprisingly fine at the finish. I think my strategy of walking all the really steep climbs and pushing on on the relatively flatter sections, was a wise one. I had picked off some of the other male runners on the route who went out too hard from the start and then struggled with leg cramps later on on the steep sections, which I avoided.

Utterly knackered and about to keel over!

Whilst my legs might have felt fine, I did not! I glugged a few glasses of water to try and rehydrate but I have never sweated so much in a race ever and before I knew what was happening, my legs buckled and I ended up in an embarrassing heap on the floor. This is the first time I have not been able to physically stand at the end of a race and it freaked me out a little bit, but mostly I just found it all hugely embarrassing! It meant a mandatory trip to the event first aid tent and a blood pressure check: too low! Way too low! 88/56. Oooops. More glasses of water, a cup of sugary tea and a granola bar later and it came back up, I felt less dizzy and was good to go! Thanks to nice ambulance lady and sorry for depositing 10 tons of mud in your shiny ambulance!

With my awesome prizes!

At the prize giving ceremony I was awarded with the most original trophy I have received to date. Sponsored by Tribute Ales, it's an old fashioned marble beer pump, mounted on a pure mahogany plinth. It's fab! Also a bottle of champers: big thumbs up for that one!

All the participating Trotters proudly sporting our 'survivor' tee-shirts

 After a great after-party, during which quite a bit of vino was consumed, I crawled into my tent. That night I slept like a log, even though I struggled to find a comfy position where my rib and hip bones where not digging right into the hard foam camping mat beneath. I drifted off to sleep reflecting on what a strange and emotionally all-over-the-bloody-place but truly awesome weekend it had been. A weekend of ups and downs, both in terms of the terrain we ran over and my emotions!! I fell asleep with plans to run the 32 miler instead of the Guernsey Marathon next year: no use having ultra ambitions but not acting upon them!

The Guernsey gamble

Going strong about 11 miles into the Guernsey Marathon 2011

Well, less than two weeks now until it's time to try and defend my title at the Guernsey marathon. When I won there last year in a massive new PB (at the time) of 3:03:49 I was in the best shape ever. Yes, I had the achillies niggle, as always, but it was only minor and didn't bother me on the run at all. It was only the last 4 miles into a strong headwind that became a sturggle, but up until then I was the most comfortable I have ever been in a marathon. Fast forward one year and what a different story....

I have niggles galore, mostly the left achillies but also now the right one. Due to this I have been unable to do any long runs. Since I ran the 32 mile Dartmoor Discovery in June I have run a 17.5 miler, once, 7 weeks ago, and two 15 milers. My three attempts at going out to 20 miles had to be aborted at 15, then 11 and, last week, at a pathetic 8 miles due to the pain in my left foot, both ankles and calves that was too persistent to run through.

Last week I saw a physio and she diagnosed a hip misalignment, where my left hip is slightly forward of my right causing a whole twisting motion that is resulting in pain manifesting itself on the site of my achillies. She seemed to think that some uncomfortable poking and prodding of my soleus and iliacus muscles would be sufficient to cure a problem that I have been experiencing ever since starting running two years ago. As I suspected, this was over-optimistic thinking and now, post-treatment, the issue is ever so slightly better, but not much, and the improvement could easily be attributable to the enforced rest I have taken over the past two weeks.

I knew that a Guernsey title defence would be a long shot anyway this year as a lady from Bourton Road Runners who has previously represented Scotland at the Commonwealth Games in the marathon and who boasts a marathon PB of 2:38 is also entered. She won the Jersey Marathon last year in a time of 2:53: 10 whole minutes faster than my Guernsey win. Realistically, if I was in my best shape, I might be able to stay with her and at least give myself a fighting chance, but as things stand with my abysmal preparation and current catalogue of injuries, I will be lucky to even get round. Nobody would advise going into a marathon with only one long run of 17.5 miles, and that 8 weeks before the marathon itself, let alone advise this as an approach for someone who is hoping to be competitive and post a decent time. Basically, I'm screwed.

It's not only been my shaky physical state that has hampered my preparations; I am also mentally exhausted and really fed up of having to do long runs. I have been doing long runs since January when I started my build up for the Taunton Marathon. After Taunton I had a few weeks off before running the North Dorset Villages Marathon. After that I had 5 days off before heading out of the door on my one and only day a week off work for an 18 miler: no time to rest after Dorset as I had the Dartmoor Discovery ultra to prepare for in 5 weeks time. All of this time I was doing the long run every Friday, on my one and only day off a week. I would wake up early, drive the 55 miles from Dorset to Exmouth, have a strong coffee and head out of the door. I wouldn't get back in until 2pm, then after some lunch and a shower, my one day off was almost over and I was usually too tired to enjoy what was left of it. It got to feel like a bit of a chore by the end and I began to resent the fact that I HAD to run every week on this day, whether I felt like, it was atrocious weather, whatever. After the D.D. was over I immediately started to think about Guernsey. There's little wonder that I am physically as well as mentally knackered! Most athletes would have the summer off and just do short runs before picking up the training again for an Autumn marathon. I thoroughly loved the Guernsey Marathon last year and desperately wanted to return again this year to defend my title and also have a crack at the course record, which I was 2 minutes off achieving last year, but the timing of it, at the end of a hectic summer's racing programme, is not ideal.

Make no mistake, Guernsey is going to hurt this year, really hurt. I anticipate that I will start to suffer from about 14 miles onward and that suffering will just keep getting worse and worse with every step until the finish. The ideal scenario would be to withdraw, but when I've already booked the flights and the marathon organisers are putting me up free of charge in a lovely hotel, the pressure is on for me to at least give it a go. I mean, there have been multiple other times when I have barely been able to put one foot in front of the other in my build up to races, even warming up for a race has been done at a hobble, but when the gun goes I have somehow managed to pull a performance out of the bag... even if I do suffer for it in the days after. I just figure that if I can haul my battered body around Guernsey then I can reward it with as much rest as it needs after. I just hope it will accept this deal and that the gamble to go out hard and try to be competitive on such little mileage and with already wrecked legs pays off.... Watch this space to find out!

The ups and downs of this running lark...

In the last posting I was feeling slightly deflated after some recent lack-lustre performances. Have things progressed since then? Well, yes.... and also no.

I followed up my 2nd place at the Sidmouth Beat the Bus race with another 2nd at the Run Exe Summer 5k series on July 3rd and then yet another 2nd at the Wellington 10 mile race on July 8th. The 2nd place at the Run Exe didn't seem so bad as I came 2nd to a superb athlete from Westbury Harriers who is a 17 minute 5k-er at best, and so by trying to hang onto her coat-tails, I bust my backside around the course to a new PB of 18:40, shaving 5 seconds off my previous best set last August. This was a pleasant surprise as I haven't done a scrap of speed work since May and the D.D. is still slightly in my legs. I had hoped to better my PB by the end of the summer season and so to dip under it in my first outing over 5k of the season was a massive bonus! The only annoying thing is that at the moment it does not officially count as a PB as the race does not have the appropriate UKA licence so it's not showing up on the Run Britain Rankings. Infuriating!

The Run Exe Summer 5k: 5ks are most hated distance, nothing but an 18 minute asthma attack!

The 2nd place at Wellington was harder to swallow though as, like with the Beat the Bus, I won this race last year and so had to settle for one place less this year, but, what really bites is that my time was also slower by 18 seconds! Yes, it was a hot day (the only hot day we've had so far this summer and so my body was perhaps not accustomed to the heat), and yes I had raced hard in the week, both on the Tuesday at the 5k and the Friday, running a leg for the Harriers ladies' team at the Erme Valley relays, but I still feel I am in better shape than I was this time last year. I felt I pushed on at every opportunity during the race; I didn't back off on the hills and I didn't just cruise the downhill stretches, I really did push, so I am struggling to understand where I lost those 18 seconds!

Come the evening of July 11th when I lined up on the start line again, my legs were feeling a little heavy with already having 3 hard races in them from the previous 7 days but I was desperate for a victory to prove to myself that I could still do it! On the start of the inaugural Colyton Rebel Run 10k I caught sight of the lady from Sidmouth Running Club who had just beaten me into 2nd at the Sidmouth Beat the Bus race the previous week. Now I was doubly keen to win, but I also knew that if I wanted to, there could be no taking it easy, even if my legs weren't feeling fresh. This time I at least had an insight to the strengths and weakness of my main competition and I knew that on the flat and the uphills, I had the superior fitness, but on the downhill, she had the superior descending skills. The profile of this course was a steep uphill climb for 1 mile - steep to the point that it reduced you to a fell running type hands on knees walk - then it levelled off for a couple of k, then came a long gradual descent into some woods, followed by another climb back out, then a flat stretch before the final 1 mile steep descent to the finish. I knew that I would have to work hard on the uphill and flat sections to give myself enough of a cushion to hold this lady off on the long final descent. Forewarned is forearmed and luckily I managed to stick to my task and I stayed in front for the whole race, eventually finishing about a minute ahead of her. Victory in the ladies race and 12th place overall in 40:34 (the course was a killer but the distance only 9k, not a full 10, hence the decent enough time!). A much needed confidence boosting win, at last!

Racing to victory at the Colyton Rebel Run

Two days later and I was off racing again. Like the Colyton, the Otter Rail and River 10k is also an off-road mudsy. A week before the race and the river Otter, alongside which you run for about 3k of the race, had totally burst its banks and so it was uncertain that the race would be able to go ahead. Fortunately the flood waters subsided a little but the course was still a boggy mud bath with thigh deep, 10m long muddy puddles all serving to make the going tougher and to slow your pace.

A very high quality field turned up on the male side, headed up by second claim Exmouth Harrier, Tom Merson. On the female front I notice the diminutive figure of Jane Allison from Plymouth Harriers; although tiny, Jane is a mighty fine runner who clocked a much faster time than me at the Erme Valley relays, although I did get the better of her by almost 3 minutes at the Torbay Half marathon, so I was hoping that maybe over the in-between distance of 10k, my stamina would help me out! Jane went off very fast indeed and shot out of the playing field and off along the river bank. I decided her pace was far too suicidal to try and go with so I stuck to my own task and, after about 1k, I came up alongside her and passed her. Get me, learning to be sensible and run my own race!! After that I also overhauled a few overzealous male runners who had gone off too hard and then crashed and then I found myself, to my delight, running on my own, with my own space around me. The course was terrific but very muddy, as advertised. Having half the contents of a muddy bog stuck to the underside of your shoes really did zap your energy levels and so in these conditions I was thrilled to cross the finish line in a time of 42:18 on an accurately measured 10k course. In the end I was almost 3 minutes ahead of the next female, Jane of Plymouth Harriers. Tom Merson had stormed around in 34:51 to set a new course record - on a flooded, muddy course - what a talent that guy is!

Start of the Otter Rail and River Run 10k

Approaching the finish of the Otter Rail and River Run: 1st lady and 10th overall.

So, 2 victories in a week, back to winning ways, all going well, right?... Well, as I said at the start, yes and no. Whilst I am doing well at all these races, the races are also taking loads out of my legs. If I was only doing these short fasties, that wouldn't be a problem, but I am also in the throes of a marathon training schedule in my build up for the Guernsey Marathon on August 26th. Fitting in a long run when I've also been racing midweek and each weekend has proved tricky. I had a 20 miler scheduled in for today but I have had to shaft it in favour of a rest day as I am starting to feel a few niggles in the achillies and calves. My plan is to skip the long one this week and do two long ones next week when I'm up in Wales and not racing. The thing is, I'm really enjoying all these short, off-road local races, they are the highlights of my summer, and I am getting really tired of all the long runs and the marathon training. Hell, I have been training for one marathon or another since January with no break! I trained solidly for my sub 3hr at Taunton, then 4 weeks later ran a 3:02 at North Dorset, then 4 weeks after that I ran the Dartmoor ultra, and then straight back into training for Guernsey after that. In hindsight, the timing of Guernsey is not the greatest and I think that next year I will not do a summer marathon, but give myself a break to enjoy the short stuff before picking up the training again for something in the autumn. At the moment I am down to run Guernsey and then Snowdonia in October. I don't think my body (or my mind!) is up to it. That will mean 10 months of solid marathon training with long runs on an almost weekly basis without a break: that's crazy even by my already crazy standards! Much as it pains me to say it but I fear my attempt at Snowdonia Marathon victory may have to be shelved until 2013...

Feeling a little frustrated...

Well, I couldn't wait to break up for the summer holidays and get stuck into my running but so far the start of my intense season of competing and training has had its fair share of ups and downs and more than its fair share of frustrations. I broke up on 23rd June, drove back to Devon and on 24th June I was on the start line of the Torbay Half Marathon.

The Torbay Half is a high profile event that always attracts a decent number and a good quality of entrants. You even get the smattering of elite athletes who make the trip down to it from the more prestigious clubs, such as Bristol and West, and you even get a handful of Kenyans toeing the start line. This is of course due to the generous prize money on offer (£450 to the winning male and female). There are mixed feelings as to whether it is fair or not that athletes from outside the area who wouldn't normally bother coming to Devon to race suddenly rock up the minute there is cash laid out on the table. On the one hand, to say that it isn't fair would be discriminatory, but on the other, from the point of view of a devoted local athlete who supports many local races throughout the season and runs hard to try and sneak a victory whether the prize at the end is £450 or just a £5 bottle of wine, it is frustrating that the one chance we local runners get of winning some decent prize money is denied to us because top runners from elsewhere in the UK swoop in to claim all the spoils. But that is a separate debate really...

Anyway, I started Torbay with the Dartmoor Ultra still very much in my legs - it having taken place just 2 weeks before. Most of those 2 weeks were spent recovering and certainly not doing any quality training that would get some speed back into the legs, so I started this race very much in the frame of mind that I would go out hard and just try to hang on!

After the initial 1 mile lap of Paignton Green we all slotted into place and I found myself in the 5th female spot, working hard to gain a distance and open up a gap on a young female runner from Erme Valley Harriers. This girl and I are pretty evenly matched over the 10 mile / half marathon distance. On the shorter stuff she would have the advantage and on the longer marathon distance, the advantage falls to me. I just managed to hold her off at the Plymouth Hoe 10 mile in February and our half marathon PBs are within 10 seconds of each other, so I knew she'd give me a good race... however, she had the fresher legs!

I managed to increase my distance on her over the first of the 2 laps on the course but the gap between myself and the lady in 4th place also increased as she became harder to spot in the distance. By the end of the 1st lap at the 7 mile mark my legs were beginning to feel heavy and keeping up the tough 6:20m/m pace I had set for myself was getting harder. Shortly after leaving Paignton for the second time, on the climb up towards Torquay, 2 women passed me together. They were both from Erme Valley, one of them being a strong female vet runner. I tried to stay with them but just couldn't and so suddenly I found myself sat in 7th place. The remainder of the race became a mental battle to stick to the task and hang on in there as all my muscles tightened and I'd had enough! I passed Tarq at the 10 mile mark, just as I approached the final turn around at Torquay, and he was having as hard a time as I was after having gone off too hard and blown up.

In the end I easily hung on to my 7th spot (I was 3 minutes ahead of the next female) and I finished in 40th place overall out of nearly 1300 runners. My time: 1:25:48. Over a minute down on my PB which, granted, was set on a totally flat course, but I was a bit frustrated as part of me wants to keep getting quicker with every outing and if I couldn't place in the race then it's a nice boost to be able to set a PB instead and thereby still have something to take away from the experience... (besides the memento tee-shirt and medal!).. That didn't happen! I did place top in my age category (female 25-29) and this race is a rarity in that they offer prizes to each 5 year age cat, including seniors, so that was at least something positive to take away from the day. I know my legs were tired, I haven't been doing the speed work as I have been concentrating on marathons and the ultra for the past 3 months, but I still felt frustrated and like I'd had a bad race. But I guess that just means that I am competitive and push myself to achieve the very best and anything short of that is simply not good enough. Attitude: 10/10, performance: 5/10. Could do better!

Running with Stu at the end of the first lap. I ran most of the Crewkerne 10k with him and he just got me at the end; here at Torbay though he was far too fast for me to hang onto as he stormed home in 1:23 for a new PB! It's nice that the same friendly faces keep cropping up on the circuit!

Approaching the finish of the Torbay half by Paington pier.

4 days after Torbay came the chance to redeem myself at the Sidmouth 'Beat the Bus' race. Organised by our neighbours, the Sidmouth Running Club, this is a 5.75m (9k) off-road funsie that requires you to 'beat the 157 bus' from Otterton to Sidmouth and back again. The bus takes the main road route and has to make stops, of course, whereas runners go across country and take fields, farm tracks and the coast path to try and cut a short route to beat it. In reality beating it is quite easy as it takes a rather sedate 56 mins and the first runners back take under 40 mins. This is one of my favourite local races and I had the fortune to win it last year in a time of 44:12. I was hoping that as I am comparably fitter this year that I would be able to shave some time off that and win it again. I achieved only partial success in this as, yes, I did run faster (43:43 this year and on a much slower course as this year was a total mud bath and some parts of the route were entirely flooded with thigh deep muddy puddles) but I did not win. A veteran lady from the host club, Sidmouth, stole my crown. On fitness alone, I came out top and I would pull away from her on the flat stretch and the uphill climbs. The first half is mainly uphill and by the time I hit the turn around point in Sidmouth I had a 100m (roughly 30s) advantage. Sadly though this was not sufficient to compensate for this lady's tremendous descending skills. Downhill running has always been my, well, downfall! I have conceded many places on steep downhill sections: the Snowdon International Fell Race being a prime example! It's not just a question of nerve as on steady, neat grassy descents I do dare go faster, it's just that my legs will not tick over any quicker. I guess that more speed work involving shorter, faster repetitions is the key to improving here, but I do so hate that sort of thing!

In the end I finished just 11 seconds adrift of 1st place and a comfortable 3 minutes ahead of 3rd. I do hope that is not to set the tone of my summer season: improving in terms of time yet being beaten into lower places that last year! Without a doubt, as more and more people take up the sport, the standard of local club running is getting higher, so it is getting harder to place and you have to fight more for those placings. This is no bad thing. At the end of the day, if I want to have any chance of being really successful, these are all people I will need to beat to do so.

So yes, these two experiences coupled with the fact that I have been fighting against multiple niggles in my as-ever obstructive left leg all week have left me feeling rather frustrated. I guess an outsider would say I am doing too much and need to do less competing and continually hammering my legs on races to allow more recovery time between competitions and thus allowing for more structured training. I can see this myself! However, when I do not get much chance to compete during term time due to having to work weekends, I do like to make the most of every (or almost every!) opportunity to race in the summer. I'll just have to endure a few more ice-baths and sports massages to help me cope with my hectic summer schedule!

Approaching the finish of the Sidmouth Beat the Bus race in 43:43 (last year I ran 44:12)

This is what you have to beat - the number 157 bus from Otterton to Sidmouth and back!

The photo does not show just how muddy I was! I had to wash in the river Otter before I was allowed back in the car!

Fair yee well, Dorset!

I am just having a brief break from my packing to write a post about my 18 months in Dorset. I am leaving the county and my home and job at the International College, Sherborne, in 2 days time to head to a new post and life at Stover School in Devon.

When I left North Wales in December 2010, I had only been running for 6 months. I was spoilt, taking up running whilst living in Llanberis. Often I would go into work in Bangor, do a day at the desk, then get changed, send my work things back in the car with Moira, and run the 14 miles home via the beautiful country lanes that offered the most majestic views of Snowdon. Some days I would drive home and get in, get changed, don the running shoes and go for an early evening summit run up the Llanberis path. I was terribly sad to leave North Wales and I regretted that I did not start running sooner as I felt as though there was this whole fell running scene opening up to me that I would now have to miss out on. I worried that Dorset, with its mellow countryside and quaint villages, just wouldn't be an adequate swap: but it has been!

Don't get me wrong, you cannot compare the dramatic landscape of Snowdonia to the green hills of Dorset, but the countryside around Sherborne is beautiful in a very different way, and, if dramatic scenery is what you want, you only need to head to the Dorset coastline and you have it in abundance!

My running has come on in leaps and bounds since I've been here, so something about the place has worked for me. However, it must be said, I will not miss being attacked down country lanes by officious farm collies; nor will I mourn the loss of fields full of beligerent bovines who seem to find it amusing to block the stile and the escape route from their field by standing menacingly en masse in front of it. But the country lanes that are lined on one side with thatched cottages and on the other with a babbling brook trickling on past with ducks splashing about in it (Oborne is a classic example - go there, you cannot get anywhere more quintessentially English!), I will miss running along those. I will miss the off-road routes through the Sherborne Castle grounds; I'll miss heading out with Andy, a fellow running colleague, in search of new paths and invariably getting lost down overgrown tracks, being stung to buggery by nettles and arriving back a muddy, bedgraggled mess!

Just as I stopped to look down upon a snowy Llanberis and to reflect upon the whole process of leaving a place and moving on when I summited the Dinorwig slate quarry trails on my last ever run in North Wales, on Tuesday I paused on the hill above Sherborne and gazed down over the school playing fields and thought: for all I am excited to leave and it is time for me to move on, I will miss this place...

Here are some of my running memories from my time in Dorset...

North Dorset Villages Marathon, May 2011

North Dorset Villages Marathon, May 2012

My favourite run around the Sherborne Castle estate grounds. It changes so much with the changing seasons: this run with Tarq was on a particularly cold February day and the muddy ground was frozen!

A 16 mile run from Durdle Door to Weymouth and back again, one unseasonably hot day at the end of Setpember 2011

Cliff tops above Durdle Door

Dorset coastal run

 

 The beautiful Durdle Door and Man O' War Bay

With the ICSS running club students at the Blackmore Vale races, Feb. 2012

My favourite off-road run around Sherborne and the Castle estates, June 2012

Running along the Terraces, above Sherborne

Running through the castle grounds, with the castle in the background

Running through the deer park and sending the deer scattering!