Strength training - squats

One thing I definitely learned running my first ultra is that cardio-vascular endurance alone is not enough: I need to get stronger in my legs and core. So I've started learning about how to do that.

The first exercise I've looked as the simple (or so I thought!) squat.

I follow The McCaw method on Facebook. They're always going on about the importance of single leg exercises for building real world strength, as opposed to just 'gym machine' strength, so I thought I would start there.

I quickly came across the Pistol Squat. If you'd described it to me, I would have said it was a physical impossibility - and for the moment, for me, it is! But this video demonstrates a succession of exercises to help you build sufficient strength to do a Pistol Squat, but even some variations of it that seem even more impossible! I plan on giving this a go.

The NDW50 - my first ultramarathon

The big day finally, arrived: 16 May 2015, the NDW50, my first ultra!

My nerves had been building over the preceding week, and by the time race day arrive, I just wanted to get running already.

The registration point was a hive of activity. The organisation from Centurion Running was flawless: kit check, disclaimer, and race bib. Then I chatted with some of the other runners as we waited for the event to start.

The start itself was a long pen along the trail. I found my place towards the back, where I could still see my wife and daughter, and also because I knew the one thing I did not want to do was set off too quickly. Then, after a last minute briefing from the race director, we were off. As the pack started to move, I overheard someone say: don't forget to start your watch now, as all of the cutoffs are to gun time, not chip time. This was the first of many valuable lessons I learned that day. I started my watch a mere 17 seconds after race director set us off - 17 seconds which would haunt me later. But we'll come back to that.

I was very pleased to see that the back of the field set off at a very moderate pace. Within the first kilometer there were several points at which the pack slowed to a stop as people took turns to go through a few gates on the trail. Everyone seemed to be in good humor. I was even more pleased when we got to the first hill, a very modest affair which I could easily have run without breaking a sweat, and almost everyone walked up it. That had been my plan all along, but it was encouraging to know that everyone else had the same plan.

The first quarter of the NDW is a picturesque and gently rolling trail. It was a beautiful morning to be out for a run, and everyone, myself included, seemed to be enjoying themselves. Two very old friends had turned out to cheer me on at about 13km, and they walked a short distance up the next hill with me. It was all feeling just fantastic to be out.

My wife and daughter (aged 9) met me at the first crew stop at about 20km. I'd given my daughter a clipboard with a checklist to go through with me at each stop, hoping that would help her to feel more involved: check / refil water, get rid of any wrappers, replace any fuel used, stretch, etc. Daughter was there with the clipboard: "do you need any water, daddy" she asked, perfectly on cue. It was all I could do to stop myself from laughing: "why, do you have any?" I asked - they had left all of the supplies in the car 200m away. That was the first point at which it really struck me exactly how inexperienced both I and my extremely encouraging crew were! Fortunately, I did not need any water at that point. Daughter was clutching a banana, and I ate half of that.

It was at that point that I relaced my shoes as well. I was developing hot points under the balls of my feet and on the outsides of my little toes. I'd been feeling it for quite a while, and concluded that my feet were slipping forward ever so slightly on the downhills. Fortunately, a friend in Canada had reposted a video to Facebook about how to use the extra lace hole at the top of your shoes just about a week earlier. I am pretty sure if I had not relaced my shoes at that point, I would have been in for some nasty blisters. On the other hand, I did suffer a little minor brushing across the top of my feet where the laces had taken up the extra strain.

I pushed on reaching the aid station at Newlands Corner at 10h45 - ahead of schedule. I had printed a laminated card with an early and a later arrival time for each of the crews stops and aid stations. I figured as long as I arrived at each stop somewhere between the early and late times (towards the early times at the beginning of the race, and then slowly dropping back towards the later times) then I'd finish in around 12 hours (my target). I, arrived at Newlands Corner ahead of the early time. I was still feeling great, and was encouraged by my time, but resolved to slow down.

Newlands Corner was also where I started to pay more attention to the fuel being supplied at the aid stations. Pepsi was the first surprise, but boy did it hit the spot. I think I had about 3 small glasses, which I regretted ever so slightly for the next 5km as all that gas jostled around in my stomach. There was also chocolate, jelly babies and crisps: I sampled a little of each.

The slog over Ranmore Common toward Denbies is a long slow mostly up hill. "Will this hill never end?" I overheard another runner exclaim. (Actually, there were a few other words in that sentence, which I've omitted for the benefit of more sensitive readers.) My pace was definitely slowing down, and my walk to run ratio increased on the long uphills. I passed another runner walking very slowly with a terrible limp. I asked him if we was OK and he replied that he was done for but that he would be able to walk to the next aid station where he would DNF, and that I should leave him and push on. It was a sobering reminder that starting an ultra marathon is no guarantee that you will finish it! The other thing that worried my slightly is that when we got to the long steep downhill through Denbies Wine Estate, I found my legs were too tired to take the downhill pounding and I was forced to walk much of the downhill! Fortunately once it leveled out again, I found I was running and still feeling OK.

There was an aid stop at the bottom of Box Hill, just before the stepping stones. I did not stay long as I knew my crew wee waiting at the top of Box Hill, but I had another cup of Pepsi and surprised myself by by gravitating towards a few segments of satsuma, a fruit I am not normally keen on.

I then headed off up Box Hill. The NDW trail goes over the steeping stones and straight up the steepest side of the hill. I'd run it before on the BoX Hill Fell race in January, and walked up it enough times to know how thought it was, and it did not disappoint. I had to stop and rest a few times just to walk up it.

My crew were a sight for sore eyes at the top. Wife and daughter were now joined by Iron Man and his daughter. Iron Man stuck with them for the rest of the race, and to be honest, I don't know what we'd have done without his voice of experience. He'd laid out a picnic blanked with a few choices of food, replacement gels, etc. - a far cry from our first crew stop! He helped me stretch a bit as my hip flexors were particularly tight, and that seemed to induce excruciating calf cramps. I also made use of the 'facilities' a short way away. The top of Box Hill is about 40kms, or half way through the race. I'd done 2 marathons as part of my preparation for the NDW50, but both of those had been really flat. Whilst I'd been running much more slowly that morning, as well as walking a bit, was conscious that the hills were really taking their toll.

I'd packed a number of white bread peanut butter rolls for the race, thinking they be the perfect easily digestible solid food carb source. I took one bit of one of them and it was all I could do to not spit it out. Apparently, my body does not want peanut butter rolls when it is fatigued! Iron Man offered me an apple, which I wolfed down - another reminder of how inexperienced and ill prepared I was. I later confirmed with Iron Man that I'd been tucking in to his lunch! Luckily he is a very good natured chap.

Apparently I spent 30 minutes at the Box Hill crew stop. Much too long. But I'd obviously needed it, to sort through the stretching, the cramps, the loo break, and figure out what to eat. That time would cost me dearly, but on the other hand I obviously needed it, so there is no point in having regrets.

The section from Box Hill to Reigate Hill was slightly surreal in that I saw only one other runner for the entire time. He was another walker who said he was done for an pulling out as soon as he found somewhere he could get picked up from.

Reigate Hill itself was another killer. I'd run/walked up it once before, but with over 45-50km behind me it seemed so much worse this time. In fact, so much so, that I had to check my phone a few times to make sure I was still on the trail! I had loaded the NDW route onto an app called ViewRanger which I'd highly recommend to any trail runners. Not only is it great for discovering the trails in an area, but at the click of a button it can confirm if you're still on your planned route or not.

After the Reigate aid station I finally saw some other runners again. A group of four runners had passed me at the aid station and we're now running about 150 meters ahead of me. I don't know what made me stop and check my phone again, but I realised that we were heading off in the wrong direction. I yelled out to them to stop, but they were already round a corner, and with the noise you could hear at this point from the M25 highway, I don't think they heard me. There was noting I could do as I couldn't catch up to them. I am not sure whatever became of them, but I retraced my steps and found the trail again.

After Merstham, I was then on parts of the NDW I'd never run before. That meant lots more phone checking and retracing my steps. All of which cost me time, of course.

I remember at the darkest point in the race, looking down at my watch and seeing I'd the. Run about 61km. I was beat. I was walking along a road, up a hill that never seemed to end. I was panting, one breath per footfall, and struggling even to maintain that pace. Distinctly remember thinking to myself that if a car would just come along and hit me, I'd be able to drop out of the race without shame! Either way, I thought that if I made it to the next aid station they'd tell me I'd missed the cutoff and was out... Mentally and physically, I was completely finished.

A short while later, however, the trailed turned back into a flatter, forested and shaded single track. I quaffed another gel, and before I knew it, I was running again. Nothing spectacular, but running. I arrived at the next aid top and on inquiring I was told that I was half an hour ahead of the cutoff. The support team at that aid stop were incredibly encouraging: you're still looking good, there are fewer hills in the last section, you're going to make it! I ate some plum (another fruit I not ordinarily have described as a favourite, and some floretine. Looking back on it afterwards, I am absolutely amazed that after feeling so physically and mentally done at 61km, I still managed another 23km to the finish! It truly is remarkable what we can do when we put our minds to it.

By the next crew stop, I could see my crew were starting to get worried. I was going too slowly and was loosing time fast. I could tell they were being deliberately vague about the details but that I was now well outside my slow estimates for a 12 hour finish and was chasing the 13 hour cutoff time. At the last aid station, a volunteer took my back-pack saying he'd top up my water while I grabbed something to eat, because if I wasn't out of the station in under 5 minutes, I'd miss the cutoff and they'd not let me go. Myself and a few other stragglers made it out just in time.

The final stretch was long and slow. Probably more walking that running, but at least I was still moving. The very last section is through a number of hedged fields. Each time you get to the the end of what you think must sure be the last one, you're through the hedge and looking at... another field. I walked and ran the last section chatting with another runner. I am not sure what we talked about, we were probably both too tired to have talked about anything of consequence, but it was welcome company.

Finally we started to hear noises. Could that finally be the end? My watch was saying I'd already run more than 50 miles. I'd known it was over-reading as I'd noticed that it was showing each of the last few aid stations as being further into the race than advertised. But knowing that somehow didn't diminish the physiologically crippling effect of looking at a watch that said I should already have finished and knowing that there was still some indeterminate distance yet to go!

We came through the final hedge and I could see the finish arch a few hundred meters to the left. But the trail markers said to continue straight, taking us on a loop before heading back towards the finish. Cruelly at one stage we were actually running with our backs to the finish.

We then looped back down a tar road through the small town. A chap in a yellow track suit top who appeared to be looking for someone else started running along side me. I looked at my watch: am I going to make it, I asked. I don't know, he replied, it's very tight. I ran on another few paces. OK, I said, let's do it then. I've always had one last little bit left for a sprint finish, and that day, even though I'd been completely broken and spent 23 km earlier, I still managed to find one. As I accelerated, yellow tracksuit guy ran along side yelling encouragement. Iron Man appeared shortly thereafter with daughter, they ran me in together: yellow tracksuit top guy yelling in my right ear and Iron Man yelling in my left ear looking anxiously at his watch.

We rounded the final corner and I could see the finish arch. Daughter dropped back at this stage. She later told me she couldn't keep up any more. I have no idea how fast we were going, but it must have been pretty quick, because daughter, although only 9 years old, is no slouch as a runner.

I immediately saw that Between me and the arch was one more bank to run up to get onto the field. Not huge, but cruel. Everything was burning. For a split second my brain saw that bank and said: fuhgedaboudit. But I pushed on. I could hear the crowd chanting the countdown to the 13 hour cutoff.

I crossed the line and looked down at my watch - 12:59:52. I'd made it with 8 seconds to spare! A little bit close for my liking, but I'd take it...

Someone kindly leapt out of their camping chair and I collapsed into it. The volunteer hung a medal around my neck. I felt like a million bucks. A crumpled and torn million bucks, but a million bucks none the less. My crew were all congratulating me and Iron Man handed me an electrolyte recovery drink. I sat there exhausted. During the last few hundred meters of sprint, the world had become a very small place and I was barely aware of my surroundings.

But I did overhear Iron Man saying to my wife: that doesn't look good, the race officials are having a little huddle, I'd better go and check it out. He came back a few moments later and told me they were waiting for the system to confirm my time. A short while later the race official confirmed that I'd officially missed the cutoff by 9 seconds! (Remember those 17 seconds I mentioned right at the beginning of this post?) The confusion had been because in all the years they'd been organising ultramarathons, no one had ever been that close to the cutoff before, so I guess it had never mattered that much..

Surrendering the medal already hanging around my neck was so incredibly different. I remember my daughter, almost in tears saying: daddy you can't give it back, you ran all day for that medal. But rules are rules, and I sure red it with utmost respect for all the runners who earned it by making the cutoff, as well as for all the others who, like myself had not made it. At the end of the day, as proud as I'd briefly been of that medal, no piece of metal changes how proud I am of myself for having covered about 50 miles in 'about' 13 hours!

I could spend hours, weeks, even months agonising over those 8 seconds. Could I have wasted a little less time at the aid stations; could I have walked a few hundred meters less; could I have run a little fast towards the beginning, etc. But at the end of the day, I put in everything I had, and that was the result. I know for next time I just need to be fitter, stronger, wiser and more mentally prepared.

The NDW50 was an incredible experience. I learned so much. About the ultra running community: an incredible bunch of runners volunteers and race organisers. About race conditions: how to prepare, how to fuel, etc. And mostly about myself: how to dig deep, and what I am capable of when I think I've got nothing left.

I am now writing this almost a month after the event. My running has been a little bit hit and miss since then. Nothing more than a 5km jog here and there.

But I know I will be back. I have unfinished business on the North Downs Way. And I want one of those medals - this time to keep.

See also:

• Official Results
• Official Race Report (in which I get an honorary mention)

Schneider Electric Marathon de Paris, 12 April 2015

I scraped in under 4h30 in 4h29:59 for the Schneider Electric Marathon de Paris last Sunday. If I am honest, I had hoped for a better time, but this is still 2 min 39 quicker than my previous marathon attempt.

All in, it was a great run. Paris is obviously a beautiful city to run in: the race starts on on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, passes the Place de la Concorde, Jardin des Tuileries and Louvre before heading out to large park and past the Château de Vincennes. It then comes back up the Seine with a view of the Cathédral Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower before finishing on Avenue Foch. It was beautiful sunny day, possibly warmer than it needed to be, and the spectators were out in full swing together with cheer leading studs, the fire department spraying runners with fire hoses to cool us down, and an assortment of bands (I will never forget the band playing "sitting on the dock of the bay", accompanied by a sousaphone!)

I definitely ran a smarter race, watching my pace from the outset, rather than setting off to quickly like I'd done the previous time. That got me to a PB at 30km, and of course the PB for the full distance. The first 25km were an absolute pleasure to run, but by the time I met my wife and daughter, who had come to watch, at km 29, I was starting to feel the distance. However, I kept it together for a while yet, all the way to 34 km, after which my lap times started to drop off. The worst kms were into the 8min/km ranges and reflected the two relatively short walks I took. All in all a much better run, and so I was really surprised that I'd only been just over 2 mins quicker.

I also noticed that I consumed only 5 out of the 8 gels I'd anticipated, although I did also consume a half banana which they were handing out on the course. That said, I did not feel under-fueled. I did feel slight under-watered in the final 5km. I normally drink quite a lot and it was quite warm by then.

My recovery also took a little longer than anticipated, and I suffered from reasonable DOMS on Monday and Tuesday, subsiding on Wednesday and Thursday. This has resulted in some lower back pain - a recurring problem for me. I took quite a lot of multivitamins leading up to and after the race, and this time was able to avoid getting ill the week after the race. It was the tops of my quads that hurt during the last 10km of the race. The fact that this is a new pain is something I take as a sign that the parts of my legs that have hurt in previous races have now become stronger - i.e. a good sign.

It's now only a few weeks to my first ultra. I still have a few long runs to fit in, including a few back-to-backs, and then I will put myself to the test.

Surrey Half Marathon 8 May 2015

I ran the Surrey Half Marathon on Sunday and chalked up a PB of 1:49:10. I was really pleased with this because, as I'd been increasing my mileage I'd felt is was getting slower rather than faster.

The event itself was brilliant. About 4,800 runners took part. The temperature was about 9 degrees when we started, rising up to maybe 12 degrees by the time I finished, and there was no wind. Ideal running conditions. I wore shorts and a tee shirt only, and felt very comfortable, although I noticed a lot of runners wearing considerably more.

I slotted in just behind one of the two 1:50 pacers. They did a fantastic job running an incredibly steady pace. I overheard one of them saying she was getting ready for a marathon in which she was hoping to run 3:30. I am immensely grateful to them for giving up their Sunday mornings to run the course with a flag strapped to their back for our benefit.

From the gun, the pace felt a little quick for me, but I soon warmed up and fell in behind the second pacer, just behind the small group thronging around her as if they were too afraid to let her get more than a few feet away from them.

I discovered that the problem with pacers is that, because they're not running at their full capacity, when the hit an ascent or a slight headwind, they just a gear up a notch and maintain the same pace! Of course, I was working really had, so those ascents and headwinds saw me dropping back a little each time. But I was determined to keep up and pushed myself to make up the ground again each time.

With about 5 km to go, I noticed that the two pacers, who'd been running 20 to 30 meters apart to give everyone space, had drawn level with each other. I remember being impressed with how tightly they'd timed the whole thing. But I also knew they'd drawn level because we were now entering the last quarter and it was a case of stick to the pace or miss the time.

By that stage I was starting to feel the effects of the last 16 kms. My legs were tired and starting to hurt. I was starting to fall behind the pacers, not too badly, but I knew I couldn't afford to let them get away. I downed a third gel and pushed myself to keep up. The crowds had been fantastic all the way around and I drew on their encouragement and high-fiving kids as heavily as I could. There were a number of bands en route, and the two rock bands in the last 4 kms sounded especially fantastic and really spurred me on.

As we rounded the last bend and I could see the finish line up ahead I was just behind the pacers. I put on a final burst of speed (I always seem to have a hundred meters or so left in me no matter how tired I feel) to pass them and cross the line.

I waited just beyond the finish line to thank the pacers. I definitely could ot have kept up that pace without have their flags to chase the who.e way round. They were both looking relaxed and were generously congratulating me and all the runners coming in around them on have run a good race - great sportsmanship.

My training programme had called for me to push the pace on a half marathon distance and I had done just that. I'd surprised myself by sustaining a pace for 21 km that I usually struggle to sustain for more than 3-4 km in training. It just goes to show how much more we are capable of than what we think we are. And I am going to need that in order to get around 50 miles in May!

PS: the whole event was brilliantly organized and a fantastic sense. The only disappointment I felt about the entire day was concerning the litter. I passed numerous empty gel packs just tossed down in the middle of the road. Water was handed out in small bottles and so many runners just too a single sip and tossed the bottles, often far into bush instead of into the bins provided. I pocketed my empty gel packets and disposed of them at the end. I also carried my water bottles with me, drinking them to empty (or nearly empty) and stopping them at the next water stop at which I needed one. The course was beautiful, but it saddened me (and I am sure it must have angered the residents who none-the-less turned out to cheer us on) to see how badly people abused the environment.

The Thames Meander - 1 November 2014

I ran my first marathon, The Thames Meander, on Saturday 1 November 2014. It did not go according to plan.

I made the obvious rookie error. The one everyone had warned me about. The one I had promised myself I would not make. I started out too fast. It was straight out of the textbook. I was feeling good, I was being carried along by the (small) crowd, and I was running too fast.

I knew I was doing it. I tried to slow down. But still I kept on going.

It took me 13km before I felt like I was starting to gain control of my pace. I started to reel it in, but not enough. By 26km I was spent. I started to run-walk, and watched my average pace drop off rapidly. I managed to dig in for a final burst of energy for the last 800 meters - my wife and daughter were at the finish line - and finished in 4:32:38.

That's not a bad time for a first marathon, but I am disappointed with my performance. I'd really wanted to run the whole way without walking (except at the water stops). I was frustrated that I'd set out too fast and then crashed even though I'd known not to do so. But it was a great learning experience, and I am determined to do better next time.

First, let's talk about the race itself.

The course is spectacular. It follows the Thames path more or less from Kingston Bridge to Putney Bridge and back. The scenery is spectacular, especially Richmond Hill and Kew Gardens (although I must admit that although I soaked it in on the way out, I was paying considerably less attention on the way home.)

The race was well organized. The field was fairly small, perhaps a few hundred strong. After about 10km it was pretty spread out where I was making it feel much more like a training run than a big event. But that suited me just fine. It is what I am used to and it meant I could just enjoy myself and the scenery.

The water stops were well stocked and the support teams were great encouragement. I stuck to water only, as I was carrying my own gels (I took 8 during the race, exactly as planned). They also stocked some sort of electrolyte enhanced water, Gu gels, chocolate brownies and crisps.

The Thames path itself was pretty busy, especially as we approached Putney. The river was crowded with rowing teams, and their coaches were cycling up and down the path yelling instructions. Where the path passed in front of their clubhouses, there were usually small crowds of people milling around and carrying their boats and oars to and from the river. We passed a lot of other joggers and runners out for the morning constitutionals. Putney itself was particularly busy.

It struck me that a lot of people seem to have very little spatial awareness. They mill around without seeming to pay any attention to where they're going and who else is around them. Sometimes, they look right at you as they step right into your path, often in small groups, making it hard to avoid them.

Put those same people on bikes, and they become a dangerous menace. I didn't have a bad experience with a cyclist myself, this time, but I did observe another runner cursing a cyclist who'd nearly knocked him down. I am not suggesting that runners should have any sort of right of way, but I do think that there are a lot of people out there who could be a little more aware and considerate so that we can all enjoy being outdoors together.

The path itself was harder underfoot than I'd imagined. In most respects, I think running off-road is a lot easier than pounding the pavements. Small amounts of variation, leaves on the path etc. all mean that your feet are not hitting an unyielding flat surface in an identical manner 42,000 times (my stride length is about 1 meter). However, the parts of the path was made up of compacted gravel littered with small stones that project up 1 or 2 centimeters. Try as I might, I could not avoid them all. By kilometer 20 my feet were starting to hurt from it. The race organisers had recommended light trail shoes, and I suspect that this was why.

In terms of my own physical condition, I had started off feeling good. I have no doubt that is why I'd started out too strong. I generally don't have that much control of my speed. In my training runs, I generally run by effort and just run as fast as I feel comfortable. Clearly I need to learn to control my pace a bit better so that I can start off more slowly.

By kilometer 13 my lower back was starting to feel tired. My back has always been a bit of a weak point, and has been the source of a few injuries in the past. So this worried me more than just a bit. However, as I slowed down, by about the half way point, it was not bothering me quite so much anymore. By kilometer 26 my upper thigh to hip was feeling exhausted, and starting to hurt, particularly on the right side. That was what slowed me down and forced me in to run-walking. At one stage, even walking felt difficult, and I started to limp a bit.

On the plus side, I did not suffer too many other aches and pains. I take that as a sign that my previous weak points have strengthened from training. So I think if I can now just continue to work on my back and hips I should start to see further improvement.

I discovered that the back half of the field on marathon can be quite a sociable place. There was a little language not ideally suited to young ears, but mostly people seemed happy for a few minutes chat as a diversion. I chatted to some pretty amazing people. The first was a chap wearing a Centurion Winter 100 tee shirt. He said he'd run it in 2013 and absolutely loved it. He was out for a marathon that day because he'd been a 'bit lazy' lately and thought he'd better do something. He did not look the most athletic person on the field, but I did notice he was wearing Vibrams ('the trail variety', he informed me, 'not that you can tell much difference, but they're great') and had the fastest cadence I'd ever encountered.

Later I passed a gentleman wearing a sign advertising he was doing 52 marathons in 52 days at age 52! I asked him how he was doing and he said that this was his 42nd. Respect! There were a lot of people wearing '100 marathon club' vests as well. Apparently at least one of the runners had done upwards of 650 marathoners. If any of you ever read this, please know that you are a total inspiration to this first-timer.

I crossed the line feeling both disappointed at having walked and at how positive my splits were, and proud of myself for having completed my first marathon in a respectable time. My wife and daughter we're waiting at the end to cheer me on, and my daughter (8 years old) ran the last 20 meters across the line with me, which made it feel even better.

All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed myself and achieved an important milestone.

I'll chalk this one up as a learning experience. I am taking a week off from running, and then I'll get back into training, hopefully a little wiser.

Thames River Half Marathon Sunday 5 October 2014

I did not go into the Thames River Half Marathon with high expectations. I have a bad lower back, and had put it out a few weeks earlier. I'd been the fittest I'd ever been just before then (which was when I'd entered the Thames Half), but a bad back had taken 3 weeks out of my training schedule and left me feeling weak. Whilst I'd managed to build my distance back up again, I was still slow. For the most part I was struggling to maintain a 6 min/km pace.

So how did I managed to turn out a PB of 5:53:30 (about 13 mins quicker than my previous half)?

For starters, conditions were perfect for running. The course is almost completely flat, and mostly along the river bank. It was a bright sunny day, with no wind, but not hot.

I am not quite sure if you're supposed to taper for a half marathon or not. Especially. If you are doing it on the way to training for a full marathon. So I ended up doing what I called a half-taper. That is I had eased off a little, running 23km on Sunday, 10km on Tuesday, 8km on Wednesday and 5km on Friday. I had also eaten an enjoyable dose of pasta in the last few days, culminating in a large bowl of my favorite spaghetti bolognaise on Saturday evening (without the glass of red wine that normally goes so well with it). After a good nights rest, I had a peanut butter bagel and a banana before heading out. So I was well rested and well fed.

During the last two weeks of training. I'd reconciled myself to a slowish half. Maybe, I though, I'd have to settle for 2:15 or even 2:20. But when I arrive at the start I was feeling strong and starting to convince myself that I was up for a 2 hour round.

I met three other people at the line up. My sister in law ("SIL") is the one who talked me into my first two races, so she is a fairly familiar running companion. She had brought another friend, who I had meant once before socially. And the gentleman previous refered to as my partner in crime ("PIC") had come along for his first ever half marathon. Although we've hiked 54 miles together before, this was going to be the first time PIC and I had ever run together.

As we were chatting before the start, I asked the others what pace they were going for. SIL and friend seemed to have similar ambitions for a 2 hour round. When I asked PIC, he said, he hadn't really worked it out yet, but he was going for 5 minute kms. That's 1:40 I said, somewhat surprised. PIC is quite a serious guy and looked quite non-plussed. We chatted briefly about his training regime and I realized he was a lot fitter than I'd realised!

The four of us set off together, with PIC, being a sociable sort, opting to start with us instead of joining the faster group. The start was very narrow and congested, and as I was chatting to PIC I lost sight of SIL and friend a little ahead of us. After about 800m PIC said he was really struggling with the congestion and he was going to head towards the side. He worked his way to the side, and bounded off into the distance. I did not see him again until the end.

I decided I would try and catch up with SIL and friend for a little company, and pushed on. I was a little surprised when I passed 1km in 5:08 mins! I pushed on. By about 5km I was still doing about 5:15 mins / km, and was starting to wonder why I'd not caught up with SIL and friend yet. Apparently, SIL had seen me pass them at about 2km, but because the crowd had still been pretty thick and congested, I'd not noticed. Slightly puzzled at not having caught them, but feeling pretty strong, I decide to push on.

I took my first gel at about 5km. In my long runs in training, I've been taking one SIS gel every 5km, and that has been working for me. So I stuck pretty tightly to that plan. That always seems like quite a lot to me when I talk to other people.however, I am pretty tall and although I am slim, I am still lugging 92kgs around with me. The first one I took contained caffeine, and then the rest did not.

At 7km I was starting to accept that I had either already passed SIL and friend without noticing them, or that they were still ahead of me and not going to be easy to catch. Is was still running 5:15/km. I checked my form: my posture was good, my shoulders were relaxed, my arms swinging nicely, my back was not giving me any trouble, and my footfall felt light and quick. I seemed to be handling the pace well. My right Achilles was feeling a little tender as it has done on a few runs lately, but as it has not caused any real problems, I decided to push on.

By 12km, the tenderness in my Achilles appeared to have worn off, and I was still maintaining my pace and feeling strong. I convinced myself that I should push on as far as I could because even if I had to drop back to 6 min kms later, I still had enough fuel in the tank to finish at that pace.

At around that time, I found myself running in the middle of a group of about 8 runners. A cyclist coming the other way took it upon himself to ride straight through middle of our group. The runner in front of me, leapt out of the way with a yelp at the last minute. As he'd been obscuring my view, I didn't see the cyclist until it was nearly too late. I leapt to the side, and managed to get away with little more than a bump. The cyclist carried on without so much as an apology. It is hard to imagine what some people think!

I pushed on and the kms flew by. At about 18km, the course passed the start/finish point before doing a final loop around and back to the finish. It was about then that I started feeling tired. But with only about 3km to go I knew I still had enough to push on. The last 3km contained the only real 'hills' on the course. Although, to be fair, they were really just short and gentle inclines. But combined with the slight tiredness, my pace dropped of slightly, and I put in my slowest km of the race in 5:31 - not a pace I was going to complain about given my expectations at the start!

I took my last gel at 20km. With the finish line insight, I probably didn't need it, but I wanted to stick to my plan. I generally enjoy the tast of gels (someone has to, I guess) but as it took my fourth one, I did start to wonder hoe enthusiastic I'd be feeling if that was all I took for a full marathon or ultra. Is suspect I need to start thinking about adding a little variety to my fueling strategy.

Wife and daughter we're cheering from the sidelines just before the finish and I crossed the line in 1:53:30 feeling both strong and elated.

PIC was waiting just over the line, and in response to my enquiry, told me he finished in 1:35. I've got to say I was thoroughly impressed and inspired by that performance! SIL came in just behind me at about 1:57 - she'd stayed with friend most of the way until she realised that she had a sub 2:00 in her sights if she put in a final surge. She seemed very pleased that it had paid off. Friend came in at about 2:01 and seemed pleased to have set a new PR, although I know she'd really hoped for a sub 2:00.

So, having set out with low expectations, I was extremely pleased with how well the race had gone. I've now got a little less than a month to go before my first full marathon. I am not as far through my training programme as I would like to be, so I am going to have to think carefully how I best use my last few weeks of preparation.

Mega-hill

Last week, I was up in Edinburgh on business again, when a chap I work with (and who I've previously mentioned as have run some ultras and tried to convince to go for it) suggested that instead of going for my regular training run I join him on the North Berwick Law Race.

The distance is short, only 4.85km, but about half of that distance consists of running up and down the North Berwick Law, which is pretty steep.

We hopped on the train out of Waverley and headed towards North Berwich. It's a charming little seaside town just East of Edinburgh. We registered at the sea rescue centre and milled around the harbour start point with about 300 other competitors and a handful of spectators waiting for the 19:30 start.

The run itself was pretty hard. The path to the top of the Law is too steep to run, so it is a question of how quickly you can walk and clamber to the top. The view from the top is quite spectacular. The run back down again is a treacherous mix of lush slippery grass (especially in road shoes!) and rocks, and, oh yes, a few wild ponies to dodge. It seemed that half the village was out to cheer with small groups of spectators dotted around the streets and on the hil, and a size able crowd cheering the runners on down the final straight to the finish line.

I was up and down in just over 32 minutes. That's well off the course record of 17 minutes, but, I felt, a perfectly respectable time for a middle aged bloke trying to stay fit.

After a brisk walk back up the road, I just made it onto the 20h26 train back into Edinburgh. All in all, a thoroughly enjoyable diversion and a great workout to boot.