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.

Testing the territory

Last Sunday, I decided to test the territory and go for a run on the trail on which the race I am targeting is run.

I enlisted the aid of a friend. He is much fitter than I am, having completed 4 iron man races and also being an orienteering champion, so I was fairly confident that if things did not go well, he'd be the one helping me through, rather than the other way around.

We targeted a half marathon distance and ended up covering about 22.5km. This is about as far as I have ever run, and the farthest I have ever run on trails by quite a wide margin.

Our route started off by running straight up quite a steep hill for about 1.5km. We had to walk a bit. If this is what trail running is all about, I thought, I might have to rethink my plan. Fortunately it leveled out after than, and although it was constantly up and down, it was all quite manageable.

I was struck by how beautiful it was to be out on a new trail. It followed a ridge for a while, with sweeping views across a wide valley of farmland. Then it disappeared into a beautiful and cool forest.

We chatted easily as we ran. This is a guy I've known most of my life but don't always get to see enough of, so we had a lot to catch up on. We weren't in a hurry (or running particularly quickly) but we're just enjoying being out.

I'd packed a camel pak with water and gels, drinking regularly whenever I felt like it, and taking a gel about every 5km throughout. I distinctly remember checking the distance at 15km and thinking I was still running comfortably and easily and generally enjoying myself. (Although a long uphill shortly thereafter temporarily muted my enthusiasm.)

We'd talked as we ran about the fact that I was contemplating running 50 miles of that trail. I'd even tried to talk him into joining me and not been completely rebuffed. As our feet hit the parking lot at the end of trail I remember saying "I just need to see myself being able to do that another 3 times on the trot and I will be ready".

I did learn two very important lessons on that run. Firstly, I need to get better at navigating. Either I have a poor sense of direction, or being tired reduces my judgement. On the return leg we approached a T-junction, and I was convinced that we should turn left in order to head back towards the car. Fortunately my friend was quite insisted that we should turn right. Had I not had the good sense to listen to him, we'd have set of in completely the opposite direction to what we were meant to. The trail is quite well marked, but especially where it approaches busy areas, the myriad of alternative paths is quite confusing. Looking back on the map of our run afterwards, I noticed we actually spent a fair amount of time running on trails other than the main trail.

Secondly, I need to find a better way to fuel. I had stashed my gels in my camel pak, but struggled to reach them while running. And so I had to stop running, unclip my pack and swing it round in front of me each time I wanted one. Possibly it is not a problem to walk for a minute every half hour when running an ultra, but I'd still like to be able to refuel without walking even if just for training runs. I also need to find somewhere to store the empty gel packs, as they can get a little sticky when used.

Clearly, I've got a long way to go before I am ready for my first ultra. But somehow, clocking up some miles on the trail I was planning to race seemed like a significant milestone. I'd run part of the course, pushed myself on distance, and enjoyed it. I'm ready to push harder.

Thunderstruck

I hit the trails yesterday afternoon. I deliberately choose the narrow paths, and the ones I was less familiar with. Sometimes, they petered out unexpectedly, and I had to hunt around for another. Other times, I was not entirely sure exactly where I was.

But it was a great afternoon to be out. The undergrowth was thick and lush. The clearings were carpeted in flowers. Whilst I was working hard, it felt like I was moving easily, enjoying the moment. It felt great to be outdoors and running.

Then, after about 11km, the heavens opened. A summer thunderstorm such as I had never experienced before. I found the nearest road and headed towards home. Fortunately, it was only another 2km. Within minutes I was drenched. At times, the run-off was over an inch deep on the road. It splashed up knee-high with every step. I pushed the pace with an energy I had no idea I still had left in me (which is a lesson in itself). I felt alive and free.

When I got home, my 8 year old daughter had been waiting by the window for me, watching the rain. She met me at the door with a towel. She told me she'd run me a bath because she thought I'd need warming up. (I am normally a shower person, but she told me that she couldn't really run me a shower...)

What a great way to end the weekend!

Gadget junky

I am a self confessed gadget junky. I've logged pretty much every run I've done since I started a few years ago using either my phone or my GPS watch.

Runkeeper (Runkeeper.com) on my iPhone was my training companion for many years until just recently. It's easy to use, and plots a map of where you run, together with graphs showing climb/descent and pace, as well as a table with your splits. It keeps a log of your runs and tells you when you've broken a new personal record based any on of a dozen metrics. It also allows you to create a Street Team of other runners you know using Runkeeper and to share and comment on each others' activities. There are a few other similar products out there - Strava is another popular one - that do more or less the same thing.

The main advantage of logging everything on Runkeeper was that it keeps a permanent record of everything. I usually run alone, so there is no one to keep me going. But I find the knowledge that my run will be recorded for posterity and visible to others to be hugely motivating. It's a personal challenge to keep my Runkeeper training log looking full and strong.

But I've also had a number of problems with Runkeeper on my iPhone. I don't know whether the problem is with Runkeeper or with my phone, but it can mis-read the GPS co-ordinates making it seem like I ran a lot further and faster than I did.

Feeling slightly frustrated by this I recently upgraded to a Garmin watch with a heart rate monitor. This adds heart rate, cadence, ground contact time and vertical movement measurements to my running log in addition to the measures I was getting from Runkeeper. (To be fair, Runkeeper would probably have done that if I'd hooked a heart rate monitor to that too.)

So now I am logging all my runs on GarminConnect.com. I am also experimenting with propagating the data from GarminConnect to Runkeeper and Strava, giving me a total of three web services to map, monitor and share my training.

I know not everyone is a gadget junky like I am, but for those of us who are, gadgets add an additional element of personal satisfaction to running.

Kill the hill

When I first started running, I used to really struggle up hills. Unfortunately, I live at the top of one, so whichever way I run from home, I always finish on an incline. I really disliked that hill for a long time.

Two things changed all that. Firstly, if started practicing tai chi. It's something I'd been curious about for years, and a friend finally talked me into trying it. It's a fantastic form of exercise and I'd recommend it to anyone within striking range of a good teacher. Although it is a fairly low intensity exercise, it is pretty much all done with a good bend in both knees. So your quads get a gentle but firm workout. It was after a few months of tai chi that I started to notice that hill back to my home started to feel just a little bit more like the rest of my run.

Secondly, I started to spend quite a lot of time on the road for work, traveling to a city which is built on several hills. Living out of a hotel made running seem an even more attractive diversion, but finding anywhere remotely flat was next to impossible. So I naturally ended up running more and running up more hills. One evening I recall feeling a particular need to burn off a little energy after a tough day in the office, so I though I'd have a go at a hill interval programme I'd read about. I ran to the steepest nearby hill and began. From the bottom to the first lamppost and back. Then to the second lamppost and back. And so on, for about half an hour. It took everything out of me. However, on the short run back to the hotel afterwards, I remember thinking how comparatively easy running on the flat felt. I was hooked.

I now enjoy hills. They're exhausting, for sure. But the satisfaction of reaching the top makes them worth the effort.

A partner in crime

Once again, I found myself at a low key social event standing with a beer in my hand. I was chatting to one of the other friends who'd walked the Caledonian Challenge with me a few years before.

"You still running?" I asked him. We'd swapped notes on running during a few of our training hikes. He nodded.

"Say, you remember you always said you thought we could have completed the Caledonian Challenge in about 17 hours instead of 22.5 hours if we'd pushed the pace a little harder and taken shorter breaks?" Of course, I knew he would remember as he'd mentioned it on several occaisions since then. He'd definitely been the fittest member of our hiking crew. He nodded again.

"Well, if you're keen, there's a 50 miler not too far from here. In fact, we did some of our hike training along the route." He looked interested so I continued: "it's got a 13 hour cut-off, though, so we'd have to be even quicker than you talked about. In fact, we'd pretty much have to run all the flats and downhills..." He paused, but it could see he was thinking.

We've swopped a few email since then and agreed we'd start a training regime and "see how far we can push our bodies". But we've not yet done or committed to do anything. Have I found a partner in crime, or have we both already learned that it is best not to commit to taking part in endurance events over a couple of pints?

The nudge

I received a nudge when I overheard that someone at the client site I was working at had just run an ultra. I engaged them, casually at first, but obviously not casually enough.

Once he read between my questions that I was considering having a go myself, he subtly started to convince me that it was perfectly possible. He pointed out that there was a 50 miler quite near to where I live in just over a years time. "That's more than enough time to train" he said."What's more,you've got the added advantage of being able to train on the course." He promptly provided me with the name of the race and of the organisers, leaving me no excuse not to Google it.

Over the space of a few short conversations, what had been a theoretical contemplation became a tangible possibility.

He also gave me some insight into the training I would need to put in in order or complete the challenge. Was I really ready to make that commitment?

Fertilising the seed

The seed was fertilized by Jim Lawless when I was fortunate enough to attend a talk by him about 7 or 8 months ago.

For those of you who have never heard of Jim, he is the author of the book "Taming Tigers". The book and he motivational talks that he delivers off the back of it are all about conquering the self-create psychological obstacles that ordinary people use to stop themselves from doing extraordinary things. Some years ago, Jim had been challenged by to prove that his methods worked when someone bet him 10 pounds that he couldn't ride in an official jockey club race within a year. As a 40-something overweight man who had never ridden a horse before, logic said that this would be impossible. But "Taming Tigers" chronicles how he applied his methods to achieve just that. To prove it was not a one-off, Jim then went on to become the first Brit to free-dive to a depth of 100m. It's a fantastic book, numerous, self-deprecating and inspiring, and is would highly recommend it to anyone. Better still if are lucky enough to be able to attend one of his talks.

As Jim spoke, I couldn't help thinking about my idea to run an ultra.

"Taming Tigers" is all about dealing with our internal excuses: I'm too old; I don't have the time; I am just not athletically gifted enough; people would think I was crazy. But how could I know if those were really sensible reasons for not trying, or just feeble excuses? Did I really want to run an ultra, or was it just an idle fantasy? These are the questions I am still asking myself.

The beginning

It all started with a simple question: "would you like to go on a walk with me?"

We were having a few beers at a low key social event when my friend posed the question somewhat nonchalantly. I just assumed he wanted to talk about something. Guys aren't always good at that sort of thing so I figured that if he wanted to talk, the least I could do is go for a walk and have a listen.

"Sure", I replied, "when did you have in mind?" (Bearing in mind we were at a social event, a walk right then and there seemed inappropriate.)

"I'll get back to you", he replied.

Over the next few weeks, it emerged that the walk he had in mind was the Caledonian Challenge, a 54 mile hike over the Scottish Highlands. The cut-off time is 24 hours. By that time, he'd enlisted a few more friends (it's a team event) using similar techniques, and we were committed.

I bought come hiking boots, which I quickly had to trade in for some hiking shoes as the boots gave me terrible achilles tendinitis, and we started training. The training walks were great fun. Rambling over the Surrey countryside with a bunch of friends gives you a new appreciation for how beautiful the world can be. I'd never visited the Scottish Highlands before, but when the event finally arrived, I remember being quite shocked by the stark contrast between the rugged Highlands and the gentle rolling hills of Surrey.

We finished in 22.5 hours. It was tough, but a fantastic experience. You learn something about yourself and your friends when hiking through unknown terrain in the pitch dark at three in the morning.

What does a hike have to do with ultra-running? It's quite simple really. As we lined up at the start of the hike, we noticed a small group of people in shorts and running shoes. When the the rest of us started walking, they started running. As we were walking I learned that there is always a small group of runners at the event, and that the first of them would cross the finish line in about 8 hours.

At 5 o'clock that evening, with another 14 to 16 hours of hiking, through the night, ahead of us, I realized that the first runners would now be crossing the finish line. As we hiked on, they'd be enjoying a piping hot bath and a good nights sleep.

And that is when the seed was planted.

The story

This blog is the story of the seed of idea which planted itself in my mind some years ago: to run an ultra-marathon.

Initially I though it would simply perish on infertile ground. After all, I'd never run further than 10km in a stretch in my life before. I'd only taken up running a few years earlier, aged 40, in a desperate bid to stave off old age related unfitness. An ultra-marathon was inconceivable. I couldn't even discuss the idea with anyone because they'd think I was mad. And I probably would have had to agree with them.

But it didn't perish. It took root and grew. It didn't exactly blossom, but it clung on.

This blog is the story of that seed, how it has grown so far, and what happens to it from here on out. I invite you to keep reading about how it fares, and ultimately to find out if I ever make it through an ultra-marathon.

(An ultra-marathon or ultra,  for those that don't know, is a running race longer than the standard 26 miles of a marathon. A typical ultra is 50 miles, but they can be shorter, or much longer. I set my sights on something around 50 miles.)