Transalpine 2012. Stages 5-8

Stage 5 Prettau to Sand in Taufers. 0km (0m asc. 0m desc.)  0hrs00– out of Ranking

It wasn’t until I was cleaning my teeth the next morning, looking at my race kit all laid out ready to go that I made the final decision.  I was out.  I was torn between relief at not having to go out and run, and disappointment that I wasn’t going to complete the race.  Saw our last 2 remaining men off, Chris and Sergio, before getting a lift to the next town.  Jaime went hiking up the mountain in search of the last aid station whilst Andy Christophe and I drank coffee and ate pizza (we were in Italy, afterall).  We whiled away the morning and watched the leaders come in, followed slowly by the rest of the field.  I didn’t want to go to the briefing and photos of the day that night so after dinner we went back to our apartment and watched How I met your Mother in Italian.  Andy and I reflected on our day and agreed we both felt down and disappointed but also agreed that it was the best thing to have done.  Our main goals were to enjoy ourselves and to come out of it uninjured.  Both were in danger of not being reached had we continued.  My running form was so bad it was unrecognisable as running and I spent at least half of the last two days moaning.  When the bad started to outweigh the good, it was time to address it.  We did that and now had to live with our decision.   

Stage 6 Sand in Taufers to St Vigil. 0km (0m asc. 0m desc.)  0hrs00– out of Ranking

After watching our 2 head off for what Andy described as the worst day of both races combined, as well as our lift from the day before, we hung around in the hope of an alternative lift to the next town.  There were so many who had pulled out that it was clear this wouldn’t happen.  Jaime, who had been off since day 3 had made firm friends with the guy on the High5 stand and happily jumped into his van with a “see you later guys!” as we stood in the drizzle and wondered what to do.  Luckily a quick check with the tourist office told us that there was a bus that left in 5 minutes.  On we got.  And 3 buses later we arrived in the next town, St Vigil.  It was a beautiful morning and a good nights sleep with none of the do-I-don’t-I dilemma from the night before had us both in a better mood.  After coffee and tiramisu cake (rude not to) we headed up the mountain for their final 1.5km.  Boy it was steep.  And on road.  It took us almost an hour to get up there with a couple of stops on the way.  Almost on cue the lead men came through making it look easy.  Shortly after, our friend Ceri from stage 4, in 2^nd place.  Turned out he’d had enough of running at his partners slower pace and asked if he could head off alone.  He was told no, but I think he must have resented that so did it anyway!  I don’t think they talked much after that!  

Andy and I agreed to run stages 7 & 8 as these were meant to be the most scenic.  So after dinner I headed back to sort my kit out, feeling like a kid on Christmas eve.  If that wasn’t proof that those 2 days off were the best thing to do, I don’t know what was.  2 days ago I’d been hating the sight of my running shoes and the smell of the gel bottle but now I couldn’t wait to get back out there. 

Stage 7 St Vigil to Niederdorf. 41.8km (1950m asc. 2000m desc.)  6hrs30– 3^rd out of 18 in the out of Ranking category

I felt a bit like an intruder at the start line, there were people who looked pretty beaten up still going and there we were, fresh as daisies ready to roll.  People we’d befriended along the way were pleased to see us in race kit again and not clapping at the side of the road but I still felt a tinge of disappointment that I couldn’t say I’d done the whole lot.  And as I’m sure we’ve all experienced, its easy to forget how bad you felt once you feel good again.  And we were relegated to the C pen, of all places!!  Still, as Sergio and Chris were individual runners, they had to start there too.  Danced a little to excitedly to Highway to Hell to disguise that fact I’d had 2 days off and then we’re running, and it feels amazing!  We are ploughing through the broken, battered field and find ourselves on beautiful trail in the sunshine ahead of the lead mixed and lead womens team.  Its odd running with new people as you get used to seeing the same teams around you.  But we were having a great time so goal number one was back on.  Hardly stopped at the first aid station at 12.5km and had covered the distance in about 1hr 10.  First climb of the day was a long one but just got stuck in, telling the surprised mixed teams that we were out of ranking and watching them visibly relax.  It sure is competitive at the top! Chris passed us at the top of this fist climb, saying he felt light headed and weak.  The he fell over.  He was ok, but sporting a rather large bruise.  The first descent is where any lead we may have had went, and even though I was doing better, it was still nowhere near the calibre of those that were in the lead for a reason.  The nice thing about this descent though is that you can see the lake Wildsee at the bottom.  It’s the most stunning aquamarine colour.  After causing a few traffic jams I made it down there and into the second aid station on its shore, which had a tannoy announcing you and hundreds of people out for their mid day walk wondering what was going on! 

The next climb was a killer and dangerous in parts too.  it was hot now when you weren’t in the shade of the big hill and our over exuberance at the start of the day was beginning to show.  It took an hour to climb and the reward was a rocky descent that moved with each foot step.  The sound of people skidding all over the place was ringing in my ears as they slalomed by me.  one guy offered me his poles, I must have looked really desperate.  I assured him I didn’t need them then instantly regretted it.  It takes me almost as long to go down that it does to go up but with a lot more moaning.  My legs weren’t as bad as they had been but I was still painfully slow.  I’m assured it’s a confidence thing but I’m not sure.  I think it’s a not being able to practice thing, the biggest hill I’ve run on is flat, grassy and over in about 15 seconds. 



This hell went on for about 40 minutes



The last 7km were flattish/downhill but took their toll.  Clearly though the aches and pains had gone during our two days rest, the deep fatigue was still there.  Andy started tightening up in the last 5km and took longer than it should have with us struggling to maintain 6m/km.  This marathon took us 6hrs 30mins and got our bottoms handed to us by teams that had done every single day.  Still, it was a beautiful day and I’m glad I got to see the lake that Andy has had as his screen saver since 2010. 

Stage 8 Niederdorf to Sexten. 33.4km. (1269m asc. 1104m desc.)  4hrs36 – 5th out of 18 in the out of Ranking category

So the last day finally rolled around and there was such a feeling of relief and pride in the start pen that once again, I felt slightly sorry to be missing out on that.  The fatigue from the first 4 days and the faster pace of yesterday's run had left me more tired than I thought so any feelings of regret I might have had were soon replaced with a renewed feeling of having done the right thing for me.  I felt a bit emotional in the start pen as so many people were so close to achieving their goal and I was incredibly pleased for them.  Our two, Sergio and Chris, although looking like the walking wounded were in great spirits as they waited for Highway to Hell for the last time.  I was the most happy for Chris as he had missed out last year having to pull out halfway through the penultimate day due to injury, so this was a long time coming for him.  We wished them well and set off for the last 33km.

Todays stage was another longish run out for 15km or so before a climb to the Drei Zinnen and the final descent to the finish line.  The run out was taking its toll on a lot of people, myself included.  After about 3km I felt an odd pain on my knee-cap.  I mentioned it to Andy who asked if I wanted to pull out.  We'd already done it once so it made no sense to be running on what could be a potential injury for the sake of it.  I said I'd see how I went to the first check point then decide.  We came to it at about 6km and the pain was coming and going but not too much to worry about so I decided to carry on.  It was a beautiful day and I wanted to be out there.   The second CP was 15km in, just before the climb.  It was 10k to the next one and we had a big climb and descent between the two so we stocked up and started the ascent. 

The views were really magnificent and I was very glad that I carried on.  I was feeling no pain now and was making the most of the last day, knowing my next running experience would be nothing like this.  We finally reached the top and were rewarded with amazing scenery and a close up of the Drei Zinnen. 

The descent was up us all too soon and so it began again, the hobbling down as best I could.  The two descents the day before were making themselves known in my legs and I adopted my pre-break hobble-a-bit-rest-a-bit strategy to get down.  It was late morning and the path was full of hikers out making their way up and down and we gots lots of lovely encouragement from people we encountered.  Our british friends came by us and Kelly said her foot was in agony now the pain killers had worn off (turns out it was a fracture so I'm not surprised!) but even then I couldnt stay with them.  I did however pass 2 lots of people which was a noveltly for me, and the fact they were limping badly will not detract from my achievement ;-p
A man on his way up told us that the sign for the aid station was wrong and that it was only 800m from here.  Brilliant I thought, I have less to do than I expected, and from the aid station it was only 5.9km to the end.  But 1km later and we still hadnt seen the sing for the aid station, which they put out 1km and 500m out, so I thought they must be REALLY out.  But then we saw the 1km to aid station sign and cursed the man for his mis-information!  We finally came to it and only stopped briefly for some coke and a chunk of banana because I didnt think 6km down a gentle hill would require that much energy.  Not for the first time did I make the mistake of assuming normal rules apply out here.  I was getting more and more cooked, literally, as it was now midday and the heat of the sun now we were off the mountain was pretty warm. 

The last 5km or so is on road so for the final time we counted down the km markers, passing a few people, being passed by a few as we neared the town of Sexten where there were already a lot of very happy people.  These last few km were gruelling, so goodness knows how they must have felt for those that had done all 8 days.  Though they probably didnt feel any pain, just relief!  Finally, the last km marker of the race came into view and I must admit to a rather large feeling of relief myself.



A sign we were probably all glad to see

I tried to enjoy the last few hundred meters of this incredible race as were neared the town.  We could hear the finish and see finishers limping around with a medal round their neck and a beer in their hand and knew that in a matter of minutes, that would be us.  The finish chute is a 3 sided square, maybe so you get longer to enjoy it, I dont know but Andy and I ran down there hand in had genuinely enjoying and feeling we deserved the applause and high fives.  After an underarm turn Craig Revel Horwood would have been proud of we were over the line, having completed 154 miles over 8 days.  I have to say, that even though we hadn't run all 8 stages, I was still proud of this achievment. 

The evening was spent relaxing in the sun before the awards party where we got to see Chris finally collect his finishers t-shirt after 2 years of trying, and Sergio proudly getting his.  More beers than was probably good for us and a live perfomance from Marty, composer and performer of the Transalpine theme tunes "Keep on Running" and "Believe in your Fire" rounded the week off nicely.

Team POWERbreahteUK!

I have such fond memories of these 10 days.  I was lucky to be with 5 great people, Sergio, Jaime, Chris, Christophe and of course Andy.  It really was a rollercoaster of a week and I felt I learned a lot, about running but mostly about myself.   I always thought that I was a competitive person and that I cared about where I came in a race, or what people thought of me and my performance.  But in an event like this there is no room or place for ego.  It humbles you and strips you down to your raw self, where only the things that really matter to you remain, and are brought clearly into focus.  This is where I discovered that I didn’t in fact care about the finishers t-shirt, or our position or what people thought…. I only cared about enjoying myself.  As discussed on the mountain side on day 4, we came out for a holiday, to do something we enjoyed and once that stopped happening, it was time to end it.   Yes, I could have carried on, and I would have finished and probably been injured, and ill, and hated running, but that would have been ok because I wouldn’t have been able to run anyway due to the injuries….and that’s not the experience I wanted.  Those 2 days off halfway through meant I enjoyed 90% of the event, as opposed to 50%.  And that’s what I call value for money!!

Would I do the event again?  Yes, definitely.  Not because I feel I have unfinished business or something to prove, but because the good bits of the race were REALLY good.  The best running experience I’ve ever had.  Fact.  I would probably train for more than 3 weeks before however, and probably not do an Ironman triathlon 7 weeks out, but these are just more of the things I’ve learned from doing Transalpine.   

I had one of the most incredible experiences out in the mountains and I’m glad I got to share it with Andy.  Or rather, I’m glad he agreed to run with me.  Having done both this and the Western route before, and knowing how much I can moan I’m surprised he asked me to run with him! He has said on our return however, that if he did ever do it again, he probably wouldn’t do it with me.  “No offence” he says.  Pffff……

He was a great running partner, patient, encouraging, helpful, reminding me to eat and helping with recovery at the end of each day.  He didn’t even mind when I shouted at him in some of my darker moments.  Of which there were a few ;-p 

So thank you Andy, for not only encouraging me to enter this fantastic race but for putting up with me whilst I attempted it. 

 

And thank you to the rest of the group, Team Muppets and Team Naïve Enthusiasm for a week full of laughs and banter.  It wont be forgotten in a hurry :-)

Transalpine 2012. Stages 1 -4

I did say that I would be updating my blog at the end of each stage but due to lack of wifi in some of the Alpine accommodations we were in, this wasn’t possible.  In fact, I think we had Internet access in no more than 2 of the places.  So, there was no daily updates which meant not only could those that wanted to follow my progress, couldn’t, it also meant I’ve forgotten a large amount of each stage.  I mean, you’ve seen one mountain, you’ve seen ‘em all , right?

Wrong.  Each one seemed to hold its own charm and beauty, and its own dollop of hell.  So, I will attempt to write what I can remember or at least what I felt were the highlights/low lights of the trip. Bear with……this will be long.  So long in fact, I'm posting as 2 entries. 

So our little group of 6 arrived at the registration tent on Friday afternoon, after a fairly non-eventful journey.  We delighted in our freebies, the best one being a huge 100l bag they give you personalised with your race number, so that the wonderful organisers of Plan B can tell which is your bag and make sure it arrives at your hotel, and with smiles for the camera and some jolly banter we headed off to our first hotel and next, the pasta party and briefing.  There were a lot of very fit looking Europeans, and this made me feel a bit like an imposter.  But – I was eager to enjoy the experience, however long my less than ideal training would allow that to be.  So with our bellies full of pasta and our minds full of the route for the next day, we turned in. 

Stage 1 Ruhpolding to St Johan. 50km (1663m asc. 1667m desc.)  6hrs34 – 21^st mixed team of 76

The morning of stage one was a bit damp, but spirits weren’t as we all diligently filled our gel bottles, got our bags checked and filled into our pens.  They have 3 pens, A, B and C and your start pen depends on your finish time and ranking from the day before.  After the ritual of ‘Keep on Running’ by an ageing rocker called Marty, and a blast of the very apt ‘Highway to Hell’ we were off.  The pace was high as everyone was fresh and excited and we ticked along at 5m/km pace for the first 5-7km.  I mentioned to Andy that this probably wasn’t the best plan as we still had about 340km left to run so we steadied it down to between 5.30 and 6m/km. 

The course took us through some lovely terrain and scenery, the most impressive of the day was running under a rather large waterfall.  A long section along a ridge cut into the side of the mountain with a rather alarming drop to the right and then a very slippery descent thanks to the damp tree roots that weaved all over the paths.  I hit the deck several times and it was here that we discovered my descending ability is not existent.  Poor Andy is actually pretty good at downhills and he had to put up with not only my painful speed but also my whinging.  I was tiring and ready to stop running now.  But sadly we still had 10km to go.  3 more down hill then 7 along the river.  This was pretty boring and I think it may have been an alternative route as Andy didn’t remember doing it when he raced this route before.  It took for ever and I was very glad to cross the line. 21^st mixed team out of 80 in a time of 6.34. A good first day done which was made even better by our host for that evening cleaning and drying 6 pairs of muddy running shoes! She even washed Jamies running kit!!  Refuel on alcohol free beer and pasta and hit the sack, ready to tackle day 2. t

The waterfall day 1

Stage 2 St Johan to Kitzbuhel. 35km (1849m asc. 1742m desc.)  6hrs09– 30^thmixed team of 72

After pulling on clean, dry shoes courtesy of our lovely landlady, we went through the usual routine of filling bottles and getting our bags checked.  Andy and I were in pen B this morning thanks to our ranking on stage 1.  Our clubmate Sergio was running with us today as his team mate Jaime was suffering from an on-going injury and had finished several hours behind Sergio the previous day, though at least an hour can be attributed to him stopping in a café for 2 ‘honey-ccino’s’ (cappuccino with honey in, he helpfully translated for us).   We were all a little amazed he was starting at all to be honest but this was his race and his decision.  (Turned out he wisely pulled out at one of the checkpoint during this stage).  I was a little nervous about Sergio running with us as I was feeling the effects of stage one and wanted to take things a lot slower today.  I thought he’d be better of with our other friends, Chris and Christophe as they were coming in ahead of us but Sergio assured me he wanted an easy day as well.  The route for today went into a single track climb about 3km in so the plan was to run hard to get as far up the field as possible so as not to get stuck in the bottle necks that were bound to form.  Highway to hell started and we were off, running hard.  The plan worked and we powered up through the field and I was very glad when the climb started so I could slow down.  I didn’t, however, expect to slow to a complete stop.  Even though we started in the second pen and ran hard to get a good position, there was still a traffic jam.  The climb was very technical with more exposed, wet tree roots and clearly even those faster people ahead were finding this a slow ascent.  I didn’t mind an impromptu break and took on some gels and water whilst we waited.  Sadly, not everyone wanted to wait and there were several idiots who tried to go off piste to get ahead of the jam.  This resulted in nothing more than entertainment for the rest of us as we watched them struggle through the bushes and boulders.  We got moving again and could see why there was a jam.  The ‘dangerous section’ was hard work with metal ropes attached to the side of the mountain to help you up, or keep you from falling off, I’m not sure which.  Thankfully, our trio all escaped the danger and emerged  smiling the other side

The running along the top section was really rather nice, soft pine-y carpet and if you avoided the wet tree roots you could really get some distance covered.  Of course there was a large descent which wasn’t as bad as the previous days (Sergio even managed a few Kilian Jornet moments) before another climb that gave us spectacular views of the ridge we’d just run along.

 Although this was a shorter stage, only 22 miles, due to the step climbs and no doubt a dusting of fatigue (from me, anyway) this stage took us almost as long as the 50km stage the previous day.  I struggled in the last 7ish km and poor Andy and Sergio were forced to walk when I did (which was fairly often, along flat paths).  For some reason though, in the last km we (or possible I) decided to hammer it and overtake a team ahead (not even in our category).  A joy to see the finish line and have a sit down and a hot dog. 

Stage 3 Kitzbuhel to Neurkirchen am Grossvenediger. 46.5km (2258m asc. 2147m desc.)  7hrs56– 45^thmixed team of 71

Sergio chose to go with Chris and Christophe today, I wasn’t offended, more relieved.  He was clearly capable of running faster and whilst Andy had no choice but to run with me, Sergio did.  His partner Jaime was now out of the race and was now supporter extraordinaire.  Not just for us, he seemed to be best friend with most people there!  So the 5 of us lined up ready for what the mountain had in store for us today.  I was feeling really lethargic that morning with no energy thanks to a bad night’s sleep and 53 mile of running in my legs.  I knew today had a climb even the organisers described as brutal at the previous night’s briefing so I was under no illusion that this 29 mile run was going to be pretty.  It stated with a straight up climb of 1,100m ascent in 9km up a slalom ski slope.  Once we got up there the runnable sections were forest service road and in all fairness, pretty boring.  I was suffering now and not enjoying myself.  We were walking through fog so thick that you can barely see the people 3m ahead of you.  After a refuel at the aid station that appeared out of the mist, we were climbing again through a field of cows.  There were a lot of fields of cows in this race and there were very unperturbed by us all.  You know a climb has got pretty ridiculous when you have to pull yourself up by tufts of grass with your hands.  We got chatting to an English couple, Kris and Kelly who knew several people we did in the running community back home.  We whiled away the climb talking about races we’ve done in England before they left us (well, me) in their dust when we finally hit the down hill.  Before long we were climbing again up into the fog.  This gave the impression that we were alone on the hillside, I’m not sure if this was just a point in the race where that sometimes happens as people thin out, or if the obscured view of anything other than Andy’s bum made it seem that way.  Either way, I actually enjoyed it.  As much as I love the banter and chats with other people to help pass the time, it was nice to alone.  We spent the climb talking about the pro’s and cons of pulling out of the race.  It had got to the point where I was almost at capacity for mileage in legs.  I knew it was meant to be tough and that most people were probably feeling that way but I simply wasn’t enjoying being there.    This conversation was the point in which I realised I wasn’t about medals or finishers shirts or bragging rights, I was about having fun and enjoying what I did.  Funnily enough, after a bit of food and a runnable section, I started to feel better.  We ran along the ridge on soft trail with very few people about and I started to enjoy it again.  The weather wasn’t great and it’s a shame we couldn’t see any views but I still look back at this section of running as one of my favourites.  Maybe I was making the most of it as I knew the last 10km were the ‘brutal’ downhill.   


Up on the ridge

One more aid station and straight into the descent.  This was a 1,200m descent in 8km and to give you some idea, the cable car we took to get back up for that evenings dinner took 16 minutes.  I steeled myself and promised Andy that I would do my best.  However, after approximately 200m I was hurting.  I needed frequent stops to relieve my quads, which felt like they had torn.  I’ve had lots of advice about downhill running and how to “just relax your legs” but with the ground being so uneven and rocky, when I tried to do this I started getting out of control and then found slowing down even more painful.  The trouble with this race is that you use your quads for climbing and descending and unsurprisingly, there wasn’t a lot of anything else!  I was forever letting people thunder by me, (how do they go so fast?!) and even had a little cry at one point.  It was so painful and I was dog tired.  the 5km to go sign that usually seemed like a relief just felt like a sick joke.  I walked, I rested, I stumbled, all the while with Andy giving me instruction and encouragement.  We had previously tried me leaning on Andy’s shoulder to take some of the impact off my legs but this just led to Andy getting niggles on the side I was leaning on so clearly wasn’t the way to go.  So he either patiently ran behind me, or ran off and then sat and waited.  My quads were so tight and sore that I couldn’t even kneel with my bum on my heels.  So when I slipped on one of those pesky tree roots and ended up in the kneeling position, it was excruciating.  I thought I had actually torn my quads.  The scream I let out made the poor German guy behind think I’d done something far more serious as Andy struggled to get me to my feet.  It was laughable really, even at the time.  We finally got to the tarmac-ed section and this was much more runnable.  I found my stride again and we were clicking along at sub 5m/km pace, picking off teams as we went.  We were still so high I wondered how we’d get down in the 3km we had left but soon enough we were running down the finish chute with one more day ticked off.  A long day at almost 8 hours but pizza pasta and salad we had back at the top of the mountain was the best tasting ever!


The cable car between dinner and bed



Stage 4 Neurkirchen am Grossvenediger to Prettau. 43.5 km (21997m asc. 1420m desc.)  7hrs48– 50^thmixed team of 68

Any thoughts of pulling out at this point were soon quashed after being informed that it was a 4hour drive around the mountain range to get to the next town.  Clearly, it would be just as much of a pain to try to arrange transport than to just run it.  Or so I thought.  I’d had a good night sleep, foregoing the briefing and being asleep by 8.30pm so felt better than I had the previous morning.  The “highlight” of this stage was we were climbing to the highest point of the race at 2,665m.  And there was snow at the top.  Sergio had been dropped by Chris and Christophe the day before but was starting with them anyway.  He was happy to run alone though if he needed to.  I don’t think I could have!  The start of this stage was a long flat on roads which was a killer.  It was obvious by now that people were suffering as the drop out rate was getting bigger every day (the final drop out rate was over 50%). Sadly, at 2km it claimed one of our own, Christophe.  He had ITB issues, probably due to hammering the 8km descent the day before.  But, Chris ran on with Sergio and I suspect had a better day because of it.  Christophe wont mind me saying, and even agrees, that he probably started way too hard, and unfortunately paid the price. 

We had a promise of another waterfall and once we hit the forest roads I began to look forward to this.  It could have been that this coincided with the first aid station though…….

Andy was having an unusually quiet day and when prompted, he confessed that he was bored.   He’d done this race twice before, so had already run this route once (it alternates between an Eastern and Western route each year).  I guess when you’re tired and you know whats coming, you probably would be fed up.  I was actually feeling ok on the climb up past the water fall, it was slow going but gave you a chance to take in the scenery of the waterfall.  Am English guy started chatting to us about our Endurancelife kit and he and Andy spent the rest of the climb talking.  I think this helped bring Andy out of his boredom and tried not to be offended when I realised that part of his boredom could have been to do with spending 24/7 with me.  You do have phases when you just need someone else to add a different dimension.   So I swallowed my tears and feeling of rejection (haha!) and ploughed on along the valley.  We lost the Englishman, Ceri, as he was waiting for his partner who was a fair bit slower than him and concentrated on getting the next 12km covered.  This was a bleak moment for me, you could see this runnable forest road stretching on into the distance with people like ants in the distance.  I don’t enjoy seeing where I have to run and the distance ahead of me like that so I really struggled.  Thoughts of pulling out returned with a vengeance and had there been a rescue car I would have got in it in a heartbeat.  There wasn’t one though so we broke the running into run 10 mins, walk 1, which probably equated to about a mile at a time.  Thankfully we arrived at the foot of the mountain and the change in terrain and pace was very welcome.  I knew this was going to be a long climb so got stuck in.  I didn’t mind going up, it was the coming down I was hating.  The climb took an hour, and was pretty hairy in places.  I kept remembering to look back and enjoy the view, as that’s what I was there for after all.  Our English friend Ceri caught up with us again, preferring to run at his own pace then wait for his partner.  I think they were paired up when they arrived at the race so I cant imagine it was much fun running at less that half your normal pace with someone you don’t even know!  So he and Andy chatted their way up about everything and nothing whilst I concentrated on fulfilling my promise to my mother of not falling off the mountain.  I was wondering how I’d be effected by the altitude but I have to say that I didn’t even notice it.  Andy and I put it down to our religious POWERbreathe  training so if anyone wondered about these things or wanted an edge on altitude, this is the tool for you! 

As we neared the top we could hear the whistles and cheers of part of the crew, who were also running the stages and waiting at a point to cheer people on, and up.  We threw a few snow balls and high-fived our way to the summit and enjoyed the views it afforded.  The highest point of the race was done!  Only problem was, we had to get down.  The first part was pretty slippy as it was basically just rocks covered in snow.  I gingerly picked my way down with an increasingly frustrated Andy running ahead then waiting for me.  I really was trying my best but rocky steps fronted with planks for wood that served no purpose other than to trip you up were not helping matters.  This descent went on for ever it seemed before we hit a bit of flat which I was rather annoyed to see a camera man was walking faster than I was running.  One more brief climb before the final couple of km’s which were down hill.  By this point, I simply could not run down them anymore and even walking was agony.  I willed the end to come thoroughly beaten up and in pain and ran the final 1km with a grimace on my face, which Andy kept saying was really a smile because of all the fun I was having!  Another nearly 8 hour day and we didn’t hang around at the finish, well aware that we were the last in our party to come in.  Found our mini bus and headed to our hotel.   I had a couple of real beers so I must have known then that I wasn’t going to start the next day.  I spent hours thinking about it and discussing it with Andy and others in our group and decided to sleep on it.  Andys revelation that stages 5 and 6 were the worst of the race, with 6 being a flat tarmac-ed half marathon then a climb and a horrible descent also put me off and we deliberated about what he would do if I didn’t run.  This changed hourly between him also pulling out and him running with Sergio and Chris, so we decided to sleep on it…….

Transalpine stage 1

Just a few quick words about today as its late (9.25 - woohoo) and I need to get some sleep.  Day 1 was long.  The longest stage of the whole race.  31 miles and 1600m of elevation.  The first 12k are on flat gravel paths, a bit like the Roth marathon, only without the canal.  Or the sun.  It rained in the morning and was pretty cold at the top.  We did OK overall, finishing 21st mixed team out of 76.  I'm not going to lie, there were horrible bits and it was tough.  I fell over more than once (more than 5 times actually) as some of the 20% gradient descents were pretty technical and slippery.  People were hitting the deck left right and centre, it was actually pretty comical in the end. 
Stage 2 tomorrow is only (!) 35km, though more ascent packed into those short miles.  Team POWERbreatheUK is still fighting fit, (touch wood it stays that way) and ready to face another day.

I will be doing a longer write up (maybe even with piccies!) when I get more time but so far it has been eat, get kit ready, sleep, eat, run, wash, eat, get kit ready, sleep and no time for much else.  So off to be now so I can be at my best to face the mountains once more.........

 

The wait is over

In my last post I was awaitng the results of my MRI scan on my foot, and the start line of Transapline was hanging in the balance.  So I thought an update was due.  (I know how you all worry about me dear readers). 
So MRI results showed tenosynovitis which for those that dont know is basically fluid between the tendon (peroneus longus) and the tendon sheath.  The consultant at London Bridge hospital didn't seem to think that training on it would cause any long term damage, or make it any worse, but referred me to a physio for the final go ahead to start training/rehab-ing.  So I went to see my physio Jay at Puresports Medicine who had already worked wonders on it.  He stuffed me full of pins, vacuum suctioned the crap out of the tendon, wrapped my foot up nicely and told me to go run.  I didnt need telling twice so I shot out of there and within a matter of hours, Andy and I were trotting happily around the Ashridge estate in the sunshine.  15 miles later, no sign of foot or back pain so we went out the next day too.  11 miles and still feeling fine.  I was good to go!  A few runs later and a session with my trainer Will (I made the mistake of telling him to work me to the verge of tears in a bid to make me as strong as possible in the little time we had left) and my legs were in agony.  DOMS had set in big time and I found walking and getting up and down off the loo pretty challenging.  An epsom salt bath or 2 later and a daily stretching routine has made me feel a lot better and this mornings run was pretty good. 

So, I now have exactly 2 weeks until the off and whilst I am over the moon about being able to compete and share the building excitement among our little group, I am fully aware that I am less than ideally prepared for the event.  Andy, as ever, is full of optimism about my ability to make it to the finish and still enjoy myself, though I have nagging doubts about going into a 200 mile race over the Alps with 3 weeks training.  But, I am thankful to be able to stand on the start line, so will just take each day as it comes.  I mean.....how bad can it be...???

I am also hoping that my consistent POWERbreathe training will stand me in good stead for the race, which is something that I've been keeping up since before Roth.  I'm nervous about the altitude and how I'm going to deal with it, having never been up that high before (well, in a ski lift but I wasnt exactly up there for long).  But, the benefits of the POWERbreathe  should out-weigh the risk.  Some science for you;
At altitudes of 2,000m, there is less oxygen.  20% less apparently.  So the body breathes harder to get its usual amount of o2, thus putting more workload on your respiratory muscles which fatigue more quickly.  These muscles also provide stability to the trunk of the body so when these arent working as effectively as usual, you are less stable and use other muscles to compensate. Working muscles that are not desgined for that job over 200miles on tough terrain, you are staring an injury in the face.   
So as opposed to sea level when our ability to exercise is limited by our heart's ability to pump blood round the body, at altitude, the limitation becomes ones ability to pump air in and out of the lungs. The stronger and fitter the breathing muscles....the better. And lets face it, I'm gonna need a lot of air to be able to moan at Andy for 8 days........
So this weekend I will be heading out again into the August sunshine to clock up a few more miles with Andy, Sergio and Jaime (our Spanish contingent) and carry that on with a large block of running next week and into the bank holiday weekend.  I'm aiming for 70-80 miles over the next 7 days and now that my body has woken up from its little (or rather large) break and has remembered how to run, I just hope she behaves! 

So whilst my next post may be full of moans and whines about how tired I am and how much my legs ache, I will always keep in mind how lucky I am to be able to run at all. That ought to keep me motivated for the next 2 weeks!

The waiting game.

And I'm still doing nothing.  The injuries of 2 weeks ago are not shifting and although my back is 90% better I'm still not allowed to run or do gym works.  2 key ingredients for the Transalpine training I'd say.  More problematic however, is my foot.  It got a bit better, then a bit worse and is stayed like that for what feels like ages.  I finally had enough of giving it a few more days to settle down as the have turned into weeks, so I'm off to see a specialist today to hopefully get a diagnosis.  It may seem obvious that I have a sore foot but the control freak in me needs to know what kind of sore it is.  Is anything torn?  Could anything tear?  Is it in my imagination?  When can I run again?  I cant do anything without this information and I feel pretty helpless and more than a little frustrated.  4 and a half weeks to go and I've done zilch-o for 3 and a half.  I need to know, hear it from a specialist, when, and indeed if, I can start training again, and the million dollar question, can I run 350km in 4 weeks time?  I'd like to think that if I get the green light now I can just about do it.  But I think I know deep down that running on any kind of pain is not a clever idea and that is most likely what I'll hear today.  So, lets wait and see.....

Leaving Roth Behind....

Roth seems like a distant memory now with nothing but a medal and a sore foot to show for it.  Since the race I have had time to reflect on what i felt had gone wrong and the steps needed to correct them.  I know I have a better performance in me and whilst I am excited to give IronDistance racing another shot, for now my focus is purely Transalpine.  For those that don't know what this race is, its an 8 day multi stage race through (by which I mean over) the Alps.  Distance along is about 300km, distance up is about 15,000m.  I know, sounds crazy right?  Well it does to me at the moment, especially as we are now 6 weeks out and I cannot run.  The sore foot is more problematic than I first thought with me only just being able to walk pain free.  I have a massage today and am icing and Voltorol-ing it regularly so fingers crossed I can resume running by the weekend.  I mean I really need to be fully functioning soon as I have a LOT of training coming up.  In a couple of weeks my training volume will hit 250km of running in a single week.  I'm still not sure how to fit all that in around a full time job but I'm sure I'll find a way.  Or rather, Andy will find one.  I am excited and scared in appropriate amounts and have re-started my POWERbreathe regime in a bid to get my respiratory system at least a little bit ready for the altitude, and have also been advised to do my gym work with the POWERbreathe.  Yup, hanging out my gob and wheezing like Darth Vader.  In public.  Cant wait.  Thankfully I don't know anyone at my gym so there will be no photographic evidence of this ordeal. 
So, recovery almost over its time to start getting my head back into hard graft mode.  And truth be told.....I'm looking forward to training hard again.  As nice as a break is after a race, I dont like doing nothing for long........

Roth Race Report 8th July 2012

Short report;

Swim – 1:05.20

T1 – 0:04.40

Bike – 6:15.47

T2 – 0:04.53

Run – 4:18.36

Total – 11:49.13

Long report;

This race was entered on the high of Lanzarote last year and as it looked to be another “club” IM event, it seemed appealing.  And very far away still.  I had spent the last half of 2011 not doing any real structured training and assumed that the cycle fitness from the previous year would stay with me. Mistake number 1.  Safe in in this naïve knowledge, I proceeded to enter up a load of ultra distance runs in preparation for Transalpine, which was 2 months AFTER Roth.  My plan was to get to a decent level of endurance running over the winter so that I could start cycling again in the spring, with the run more or less taking care of itself.  Mistake number 2.  I enjoyed trail running so much more than cycling or swimming and did consider pulling out of Roth as I knew you could get your money back up to a certain date.  After week or two deliberating, I decided to race anyway as I’d paid for the accommodation etc and would probably have headed out to support and knew I would have regretted the decision if I were just a spectator. 

So, I started putting in some miles on the bike, although not nearly enough.  Thankfully a lucky win on the Grand National meant Andy and I could head out to Lanzarote for a week’s training where we managed to clock up some decent miles.  This made me feel a little better about my biking ability and tried to use this momentum.  I was self-coached this time around  (mistake number 3)which made it hard to know if I was doing the right thing or not.  Everyone seemed to be doing a lot more than me but Andy and I decided that although my volume was less than before Lanzarote, as least I wasn’t overtraining.  Far from it, it turned out.  So, with just one 100 mile ride and a smattering of 90milers under my belt, we left for Roth.  The boys were talking about riding 1 loop of the course on the Wednesday before the race which I felt was far too much 3 days out.  The fact that they were all up for a 56 mile ride so close made me question (again) my bike fitness. This wasn’t much shorter than my “long rides I’d been doing!  I plotted out a shorter route and joined them for the most part before Naomi and I headed back to base.  1 x 15 min swim and a 25 min run was the sum total of my training during race week.  Everything I did seemed like an effort and I tried to convince myself this was normal in a taper. 

The days before the race were very relaxed, we had a great bunch of club members out there and it was all very easy going and relaxed, in between eating steaks and watching the Tour de France.  Registration was a dream, as was racking.  This race is the biggest in the world I believe and even with 5,000 athletes taking part, everything was seamless.  Finally race day came around and after a good nights sleep and some breakfast banter, room number 2 (Andy Steven and I) met up with  Nick Mills and we walked the 1 mile to the swim start.  Quick pump of the tires and got ready to watch the first wave of pros and sub 9hrs start. This consisted of Jo, Steven, Brett and Rachel Joyce.   The gun made me jump out of my skin so goodness knows how they felt in the water!  We ladies (all 400 of us) were off 15 mins later and though we were double the size of all other waves, had the same 5 minute window to get through the small gap in the fencing and into the water.  My plan, after some discussion with Steven, was to get to the front but slightly to the right so I could get with the faster swimmers but have the option of getting out of trouble if I wanted.  Naomi was going to go with me and try to draft me (our joking  plan was to write on the soles of my feet so she knew where I was!) but before I was anywhere near the front, the gun had gone and everyone was swimming.  I didn’t have time to start my watch even and just tried to get into some space.  This was the worst place I could have started, the girls were feisty but slow.  I wanted to get around them but they seemed intent on closing up any gap I saw.  I ended up going wide to some clearer water and started moving up through the field.  I was very frustrated as the faster girls I should have gone with were nowhere to be seen.  I was passing people at a rate of knots and didn’t get passed once in the swim.  I ended up in clear water with no one ahead of me, a sign that those that I should have gone with were too far ahead to catch.  So I was leading out the mid pack with people on my feet.  Then we started passing the yellow caps of the male wave 5 mins earlier.  I was surprised at how many there were.  Swimming through the bridges at either turn point was great, people lining the bridge and you can hear the noise even with you head in the water.  Concentrated on long strokes and breathing was relaxed.  Before I knew it we were done and a look at my watch told me the time of day was 7.50 which meant a 1.05 swim.  I was pleased with that, especially as I would have gone a couple of mins faster had I got to the front at the start.  But, in an Ironman 2 minutes is pretty irrelevant I thought, so wasn’t bothered.  Mistake number 4.  Quick T1 (well, quick for me and at 4.40, 10 mins quicker than Lanzarote.  Hopefully the longest transition time lies with someone else now……) and a liberal spraying by 3 eager sun cream volunteers and I was off.  Andy’s brother Phil and his wife Charlie had driven over from Switzerland to support and they spotted me heading out of T1.  It was good to have people to look forward to seeing along the way as we had no other supporters (apart from the other  180,000 out there that day!).  Tried to keep it steady and not go out too fast.  Ate a Snickers and tried to not get swept along by the already frankly insane support.  I knew I would be passed by Naomi and Roz at some point, and all the boys so I looked forward to seeing them.  The German Army were manning an aid station and at either end stood 2 soldiers holding a salute.  I thought this was a wonderful touch and saluted back.  I’m not sure if this was offensive but they smiled so I guess not!  The course is pretty flat and fast for the first half and there are only really 2 significant climbs on each lap.  I’m not that strong on flat, especially into the wind that had picked up so wasn’t surprised when Roz and Naomi came by me about half way round.  We played cat an mouse for a while and just at the bottom of the proper climb in Greding, Tomas flies by.  I got with him as I want to ask why he’s not wearing his leprechaun kit.  This put me back ahead of the girls but before long this changed.  Andy came by riding strong and I thought he’s done well to catch us in the first lap, I wasn’t expecting to see him until the 2^nd.  A few more lumps and then the Solarer Berg was upon us.  This really has to be seen to do it justice as words cant really describe the sight and feeling you get there.  The climb itself is probably no longer than 300m or so but the crowds start about 500m out from the top.  And when I say crowds, I mean hoards of them.  I flew up there mouth agape not quite believing it.  The first section the crowds are behind barriers but on the actual ascent the are not.  There is literally a bike widths space between each side of people and they part in front of you screaming and singing as you go.  A truly insane experience. 

The second lap was harder, fatigue started to creep in and the stomach was getting more grumpy with each gel I put in it.  I passed Andy at the start of lap 2 fixing a puncture at the side of the road.  This was a real shame as he’d been riding so well.  But he dealt with it and re-passed about half way round.  A bit more too-ing and fro-ing with Naomi and Roz before Naomi seemed to disappear into the abyss.  I kept Roz in my sights until I stopped to use the only loo I saw on the course and annoyingly it was occupied.  Oh well, an extra minute on my bike time wont matter.  Mistake number 5.  Relieved, I reluctantly got back on my bike and willed the end to come.  Of the bike course, not the world I’d like to be clear.  The Solarerberg, though still impressively manned was not quite the same experience 2^nd time around and with about 30km to go I started to feel really very rough.  The thought of a marathon was ludicrous and I tried to convince myself that I felt exactly the same in Lanza and that once I got running it would feel better.  Finally a helpful volunteer took my bike and I hobbled off to find my bag.  They are laid out in rows in sections of 10 so its very easy to locate your own bag.  Only mine wasn’t there. A volunteer came to help me look but she couldn’t make it appear either.  I thought “oh well, I cant do the run, what a shame” and was almost pleased with a forced DNF that wasn’t my fault, when a girl came running up with it.  Great.  Thanks.  I know I had help in the tent with the volunteer emptying my bag out but what happened or was communicated is a blur.  I almost ran out with my bike shorts still on but thankfully she spotted it.  This race allows iPods so I podded-up and limped off to the exit.  Phil and Charlie were there to see me off and I thought seriously about just stopping there and then.  I was toast and I hadn’t even started the run.  The first 4km or so are up a slight hill and I walked this, sorting out my Garmin and iPod but mostly just putting off actually running.  I wasn’t sure how to pace this but Andy was of the belief of holding back in the first 10-13 miles then pushing on in the latter part if you felt good.  With no other plan to try, I decided to take this approach and tucked in behind a girl in K-Swiss gear who was running slower than I would have.  9.10 min/miles are ok for the first half, I thought.  Mistake number 7 is it?  I’ve lost count.  Poor K-Swiss,  for 10 miles she had me shuffling along the gravelly canal behind her, and she didn’t have music to drown out my panting.  Walked each aid station but adopted Lordys approach of walk when you hit the first volunteer and run as you hit the last one and this seemed to go ok.  A gel every other aid station which I had picked up at the previous one and kept on me ready to have it open in in my gob by the time I got to the water, and coke and water at the in between ones.  Stopped for the loo just as we got off the canal for the first time about 15km and again it was occupied.  And again I welcomed the brief respite.  And again, this would cost me.  You run through towns at either end of the canal and at this first turnaround I saw Naomi and Roz about 5-6 mins ahead.  I thought I might be able to catch them and suddenly there was Roz just up ahead, pink eppi pouch bouncing as she went.  Only as I got closer, it wasn’t Roz.  It was someone who was wearing the same kind of pouch as Roz.  I strained my eyes as far down the canal as I could see to try and spot either of them but couldn’t.  I think this is when I gave up really.  Each step now became a huge effort and I had a very dark patch where I put music on and just focussed on a mans legs in front, not noticing anything else.  The mistakes I’ve been mentioning throughout are not so much mistakes but what I believe contributed to the second half of my marathon.   All these minutes here and there would have put me within striking distance of Naomi and Roz and I like to think that this would have kept me pushing.  But as I never made contact, it got to a point where I knew I never would so I decided to stop trying.  As I approached the section of canal that we ran down at the start, and would run down at the end, I very seriously contemplated stopping then.  As I ran by it I was aware that every step I was taking would be an extra step I’d have to take if I decided to turn back.  It got so serious that I actually stopped dead to make my decision.  I tried to think of how I would feel if I did give up there, and that I would be the only one who DNF’d at the dinner table that night, and how it felt when I pulled out half way round the run in Little Woody last year.  I really wasn’t sure what to do with myself but I started running again hoping to see Andy who would tell me what to do.  That’s how bad it was at that point, that I actually thought Andy would stop his race to comfort me in mine.  As it turned out when I did see him it was nothing more than a brief but encouraging clap and the news that I was only 10 mins from the turnaround point.  All I could do was shake my head.  He asked me a couple of weeks before the race what I’d do if I felt bad during the run and I’d told him I would think of how I felt during the last 10 miles of Country to Capital 45 mile run back in January and how I didn’t think I could go on in that but I did.  I’d always maintained that the C2C was the hardest thing I’d ever done, harder than an Ironman and I would keep that in mind when the going got tough.  If I wasn’t in tears like I was during C2C then it wasn’t that bad.  I checked, and I wasn’t crying so, ergo, it wasn’t as bad.  So I pulled myself together to totter a few more painful steps closer to this mythical turnaround I was sure would never come.  What did come though, was a ball of positive bounding energy in the shape of Ana who was flying.  She looked like she was having a ball and I envied her that.  She encouraged me and offered me a gel and told me to “come with me!”  I regret that all I could do was shake my head, rather than tell her how amazingly she was going in her first IM.  I didn’t want to feel jealous of the other girls having good races but I did.  I didn’t want to feel disappointed that I didn’t beat them but I did.  I didn’t want to feel incredibly sorry for myself but I did.  All it would take now was for Kevin who started AN HOUR behind me to come bounding by and that would just top my day off.  I still had 11km to go and I tried to work out how long it would take to walk 7 miles.  At least 2 hours.  I felt totally deflated.  I couldn’t run, I didn’t want to walk.  All I could do was carry on eating gels in a desperate bid to find some magical energy from somewhere.  The problem, though actually not a problem at all, with this course is that there is no respite from the crowds in the second half.  When you walk, you are chanted at to run.  Everyone is willing you on and you don’t want to let them down.  I passed a couple more miles in my pathetic walk/hobble state, trying not to think of all those that would have finished by now.  Then at mile 20 a section of good songs came on my iPod and I started feeling better.  I set myself targets; run for the next 3 songs then you can have a break.  Run until at least 22 miles or that bridge in the distance, whichever is later.  Pass at least 20 people.  It helped, and in that lucid period I felt good again.  Then it was over.  7km out and back to feeling dead.  I took on more gels and coke hoping my good patch would return but, alas, it did not.  This last section was truly horrible.  The last 5km seemed to go on for ever but as with everything, the end came eventually.  Beer mile around the square in Roth was fun, there is a commentator calling out your name and I somehow managed to convince myself that it was the finish I was hearing.  It wasn’t, but I didn’t know that at the time so rode the wave of hope.  40km, just 2 more to go.  Last km and I suddenly recognise where I am. Over the tram lines and enthusiastic volunteers telling me I’m “super! Super! Super!  Klasse!!” and finally, after 11 hours and 49 minutes I was at the finish chute.  It’s a 3 sided square so everyone can get a good look at you in all your horrific-ness.  I reminded myself to try and absorb it, though the feeling of euphoria I had a Lanzarote was not there this time.  A few half-hearted high fives with some kids, a glimpse of Phil and Charlie and I’m over the line.  I am bitterly disappointed and cant face other people who have had great races.  I slink off to a quiet shady bench and lay down with my music hoping no one will ever find me.  Andy does and gets me some water then goes for a shower then Jo sniffs me out.  We share war stories, I try not to cry on her and she tells me that her races wasn’t what she’d hoped for either and seeing how pragmatic she was about it made me check myself.  Hey. I’d finished, I’d been beaten by better prepared people who deserved their finish times and I could only learn from this.  The number 1 lesson being if you don’t train hard enough, it will hurt.  You get out what you put in to this sport. 

I vowed on the run, after the finish, all that evening and the following day that I would never put myself through that again.  I was done with long distance triathlon.  I had retired. 

Of course this is not the case.  On reflection I am seeing the positives I can take from this race and use them to put in a better performance at a later date.  I don’t know when this will be but I am certain that there will be a next time.  There you go, 4 days later and my fickle mind has changed.  ;-)

I was far too blasé about my training for this race and though I could get around on what endurance I already had.  I did get round but my expectations were too high.  I have learned not to take Ironman for granted, there is a lot of work you have to put into it.  I was pleased with my swim considering I went twice a week on average, if that.  I know I need guidance and that self-coaching is not for me.  Not yet anyway.   I know I have to race for myself, not for other people.  And I know that I will try again. 

The week was a brilliant one, and looking back I have very fond memories.  A great crew to be with, Andy, Steven, Jo, Roz, Ana, Naomi, Tomas, Kris, Kev, Nick and briefly Brett.  As a race I would highly recommend it.  I would also recommend the Hotel and Restaurant Latino in Hilpoltstein  - they were very accommodating and eager to please, despite a dodgy start!  Well done to everyone there – it really was a tough day in the office. (;-p)