Tuesday, 30 July 2013

Exploring the paths less taken

During my final week in Spain I tackled a couple of longer runs, exploring my own ability to handle the heat of the day and my navigation skills and when these failed me on my last run I had to resort to developing my off trail skills as well.  Turns out Spain has just as many biting insects as Scotland too - perfect training for this weekends Devil O'Highlands then!

Early morning run to the mountain platau

My first adventure I took a path into the mountains north of Rotova, the neighbouring village to Alfuir, our base for the holiday.  
Sunrise, heading out of Rotova, wasn't quite as dark as this to the human eye...
 The path initially was well sign posted with marking on rocks and the occasional sign post standing at key junctions points.  Further into the run the paths were often hard to see though, the paths tended to be the same rocky terrain as the rest of the mountain but with the undergrowth parted a little.  Spotting path markings painted on the larger rocks was crucial to making sure I was still on the right track that took me all the way to the summit.


Heading up stony path, just occasionally I'd mis-step and wish for a rock plate in the F-Lite's.

After half an hour of follow a narrow stony path the great vista of the valleys bellow unfolded.

Looking south over the canyons and valleys all the way to the regions highest mountain La Safor on the horizon.

Looking back towards Alfuir

As I neared the summit I oast a cliff that echoed earily with a bird colony  that must have been settled on the cliff

At the summit, nice to see summit Cairns aren't just a Scottish tradition.

After the summit I headed down one of the spines that spread out from the summit, the return path was less clear than the one up, or perhaps it's just moving faster downhill gives you less time to spot little differences in the scrub for whether the path meanders

Look SHADE!  One very lonely tree  on the top of the mountain
After following the path down along the spine it then fell off the side of the steeply down into the canyon below.

Dropping down into the Canyon, vegetation and ample morning shade enveloped me.
Dropping down into the canyon brought new character to the run, lush and cool.

 As I descend down the Canyon the path grew wider and clearly more well used, with occasional signs explaining the geology, plant life and the route through.

At the bottom of the canyon and on the outskirts of Rotova looking back towards the mountain top where I had descend from.
It seemed like I had been out in the wilderness alone for hours and then suddenly I popped out onto Cami road that took my into Rotova village and then a half mile more back to Alfuir.  In reality I had only been out for 1:47 and had gone 7 miles with 3000ft ascent/descent, but it felt far further such was the varied character of the run.

Afternoon run across ridge and the neighbouring valley

A couple of days later I headed out at 3 O'clock in the afternoon deliberately to challenge my body to see how it would cope in the hottest part of the day (33-35 degrees C).  The previous day I had done a short tempo run in the afternoon and coped well so was confident that I wouldn't over heat as long as I didn't dehydrate.  I hadn't taken my running rucksack with me on holiday so had no easy way to carry water so instead I just took some euro's with the plan of running to the next village over the mountain ridge to the south east, here if needed I could by some water before making my way home.  

Half an hour in, just crested the ridging and heading down a track towards the village just visible near centre of picture.
To avoid using too much water I kept my pace down, using my HR monitor to guage my effort level. This worked well - if I kept my HR below 160, comfortably below my lactate threshold HR of 175, then I could easily keep cool with modest sweating.  I found any time I raised my effort level and my HR went above 160 I could tell my body heat generation was out of step with cooling, I knew it would equalize if I kept working harder but only by sweating lots more - as I proved on my tempo run, but for this run it was all about conserving my bodies water so spotting these little signs was important.

Once out from the woodland on the ridge the track widened and I was rewarded with views of the local ridges and the orange groves in the valley below.  

Descent to valley bottom
The temperature also rose substantially as I descend into the still air in the valley below, particularly once I got down to the tarmac Cami roads that backed in the heat of the day, radiating their heat back to me.  The heat didn't affect me unduly though, I just sweated more and my temperature kept stable and comfortable.  After 50 minutes I arrived at the village of Ador.  This village spreads from the valley bottom up the hillside with streets somehow clinging to hills that look too steep to build upon - spectacular to run through. I still felt comfortable, no signs of hydration so I followed the road around to next village of Parma de Gandia and rather than pop in for a drink followed a Cami road back up the hill towards home.

View looking east back down towards Parma de Gandia and Ador, and out towards the coast on the horizon.
 I left the village behind and headed up a track towards the quarry that I had visited in morning run the previous week so I was finally back in familiar territory. 

Out away from civilization once more I took off my T-Shirt to keep cool not expecting to see anyone for another twenty minutes, but as soon as I came round the next corner there was two women sat in the shade, with them they had an huge dog that decided that I was a threat and bounded towards making lots of noise. Thankfully the women were on the ball pretty quick and the dog responded to commands to return to them.  I padded gently past them heading up the hill, while I was going no faster uphill my HR monitor reading had shot up from below 160 to above 170 and took another few minutes to return to normal, clearly the incident with the dog provided a great stimulus for my adrenalin levels!

Once through the quarry I was back in shade and heading downhill and then back along the local Cami roads through the orange graves to Alfuir.  On arriving in Alfuir I passed a group of old men in the shade who were all socializing and taking easy, not sure what they made of this pasty faced brit out running during the middle of the afternoon.  This run was only 1:17 but again it felt longer, a small little adventure taking in new routes and scoping out just what it's like to be heat adapted.  While I never felt thirsty on the run but on my return drank a couple pints of water.   What I did find encouraging was I never struggled to cool my body during or after the runs - my body just seemed to know how to keep things in equilibrium as long as I was hydrated and able to evaporate the sweat from my body.

Final long run, that ended up being a bit more epic than panned

All holiday I had my eye on how to get to the top of one of the higher local ridges, it had sat there majestic and undiscovered.  I had wanted to find a direct route up but none of the maps we had included paths for the ridge but from googlemaps satellite imagery I knew there were tracks along it's flanks and what looked to be a path along the ridge to the summit and back to Valley local to Alfuir.  

With one day left, my legs strong from the running every day, my forefoot better than it's felt in months and my body adapted to heat I just had to take the opportunity.  I was up at sunrise and raring to go.  I drank half a litre of water, left a note detailing the route and suggesting it would take me around 2hrs and slipped out on my final adventure.

Tranquility of dawn, alone on track 40 minutes out.
I decide to do a loop going out on the larger tracks that went beyond the summit, then go back up and and along the ridge towards the summit, where a summit path heads off the track and up to the summit and then down the other side and back in the Valley.  If I couldn't find the paths then I could always back track.

Attempt at a panoramic, the bright light causes the phone's stitching software a few problems though, still great view though.
 Once I had got to the furthest point I now headed back towards Alfuir but up the hill, with the track cutting diagnoally up the towards the top of the ridge.  The extra height provided great views over the valley towards Rotova and the ridges and canyons where I ran earlier in the week - detail in the first entry above.

View north towards Rotova and place on my previous mountain run.
Once the track got to the ridge top it went over the top and dropped down the other side, but rather than follow it towards the south side of the ridge I turned left and follow a path that headed directly along the ridge towards the summit.  This path was sign posted for the summit so I was confident that it would take me all the way. Initially the path started out easy to follow, albeit at a slow pace due to it being very rocky, little paint markers and small cairns along the path helped me spot it's route.  After about a mile along the path I reached a singpost with two path choices one back down into the valley on the north side of the ridge, back to track where I had come from and one path heading along the ridge towards the summit.  I had come this far so it was an easy choice - to the summit I went.

Except the path clearly was less used now and became harder and harder to follow.  It was basically just rocks and scrub and an occasional slightly clearer bit.  I no longer could spot any paint markers or cairns but now was within half a mile of the summit.  I tried using my phone's googlemap imagery and my GPS location to help hint where the path might be/have been but the bright sunshine swamped the display and made the small faint details unreadable.  In the end I ended up just judging my own best way up to the summit, this meant moving slowly through the scrub that scratched at my legs.  I had been enjoying the adventure but after the hundredth scratch I found myself cursing the hidden twigs and thorns that seem to catch me no matter how carefully I moved.

Finally I got to the summit at 2500ft and was rewarded with great views, all those scraps melted away as I soaked up the sunshine and great vista's.

View from Summit south east towards La Safor.

Summit cairn, looking east along the ridge and the direction where my intended path should be
View from summit looking north east towards Alfuir
I had now been out for 1hr 40 minutes and new I was going to be late back so I texted to day I'd be half an hour late, giving myself 50 minutes to get the last four or so miles home - all downhill, half on good Cami roads I figured I could do it. So off I headed, and initially from the summit I found bits of path that took me down to the track the went along the south side of the ridge.  I joined this breifly before following a sign on rock that pointed along a path.  This path matched up with one I had spotted on googlemaps imagery so was confident that it would take me back home.

This confidence was shaken about 50 meters into following this path as it disappeared into scrub.  I found it again by heading in the direction I knew it would be heading. Once I got back to the path I followed it down to junction, with only one route signposted to a font.  This route was headed to into the Valley I wanted so I followed it.  This route took me down below a cliff edge but initially it was easy to follow so off I went with assumption if the locals use it then it would be good enough for nibble runner like me!


Once I had got round the front face of the cliff the nice bit of path disappeared into the bush.  I back tracked but still couldn't find it.  I tried to spot the path on my phone's imagery but the sunlight swamped the subtle lines of the paths, so I pulled my T-Shirt over my head to try and get a better look. I gave up after a minute and decided the easiest to traverse down to old orange grove a little down and back along the ridge, this grove had a track to it which I could follow back down the valley.  On pulling my head out from my T-Shirt impromptu sun shelter I saw a mass of flies on my right calf, they were all biting after my blood so I swiped/splattered them away and my calf was left dripping blood as they chemicals the flies had injected to get prevent my blood from clotting was working great.  Ohh the joy!

There was in theory a path down somewhere but I could find it so had to just make my way through through the bush.  I put the crappy flies behind me and focused on picking a safe route down to the Orange grove, away from published paths and off my previously specified route I really didn't want to risk injuring myself.  The ridge was covered with 5ft high bushes/trees that had previously perished in hill fires and were spiky and black with charcoal.  While it was pretty unpleasant 10 minutes traversing through the burnt scrub it did at least get me down from the ridge and to an orange grove and at some hint of civilization.

Looking back from the orange grove towards the cliff I had traversed from.
I say hint of civilization, it turned out it was a rather historical hint as all the grove hadn't been touched for many years and was over grown and little easier to move through than the scrub.  To add to joy I found a bramble to remind me of home and leave a nice cut line across my shin too.

Found the elusive track below the disused orange grove, now looking back up towards the ridge I had descend from.

I had been following broken paths and going through the scrub for an 1hour and quarter but had travelled only 2 miles, and was now 2 1/2 hours into my adventure.   I dispatched a quick text to say I'd be half an hour more, this time I was back on familiar tracks and near to tarmac'd Cami roads and while bitten, batted and cut I was still feeling strong, and raced all the way home.  The last two miles on the Cami roads I putting in sub 7 minute miles.  After 3 hours and 1 minute I was back in the house at Alfuir, an hour late and rather a picture on one had been through an epic run.

After so many pretty pictures, here's a few spoilers!  Turn away now if you like your running blogs sanitized!

Legs and F-Lite's fully christed into full on off trail running.
Alive, so of course I'm happy!
 
After I had cleaned up and had a big brunch I was ready for the day, well almost, I really struggled to get on my right shoe... my lower calf and right ankle had begun to swell up in response to all the insect bites.  I counted 16 individual bites on my right calf but only a couple on my left.  Strange that... still I'd rather have just one swollen ankle...


Unfortunately I had to return the next day, this meant an hour and half drive in the car to the Alicante Airport with an ankle that was getting progressive more swollen and then a flight back to the UK, and then a four and half hour drive home to home from Manchester airport.

My ankle remain inflamed for the next four days so while I otherwise fit and raring to get back to training on my return I had to take it easy.  I had planned to do a 4 hour final training run as my final long run before the Devil O'Highlands race but had to abandon this as my recovery from the inflammation took too long.  Ahhh those pesky flies, seem to be a cross bred between clegs and midges - bite like clegs, swarm like midges.

Still I wouldn't missed the adventure and the memories and learning something new about how amazing the human body can be at handling the heat.

Sunday, 28 July 2013

Acclimatizing to the heat in Spain

During my recent Spanish holiday I was lucky enough to be able to get to run almost every day, at the start of the two weeks I ran just at sunrise and the hours that followed.  I would follow local Cami roads (small lanes) and stony trails for an hour, covering little more than six miles.
Local quarry at sunrise

View from Cami road up to Castle above Alfuir
Stony trails require nibble footwork
I celebrated my 44th birthday and my parents took us all out for a great meal at Javea (pronounced "Have e a"), even the tourist spots like this were a real visual treat too.

Meal overlooking the bay and sunset at Javea.
Having explored most of the local trails and Cami roads immediately around Alfuir I started mapping out longer morning runs, the first took up over a mountain pass and took around 1hr 40 minutes. The trail on the pass was very broken and provide lots of practice of running lightly on my feet as the my new F-Lite 232's are pretty minimal, so you feel all the terrain underfoot - they feel little like a light slipper but with supper grip.


The views were stunning, all while the rest of the family were still sleeping.  




When the family were up we'd go to the beach and shopping and all the traditional tourist stuff, but my morning runs were by contrast like a secrete world that few but local mountain goats will enjoy.

By the second week I start to run in the heat of afternoon.  Normally I suffer really badly in the heat, but amazed myself at just how comfortably I could run in temperature in heading towards the mid thirties Celsius.   By the second week I start to run in the heat of afternoon. 

View from hill above Alfuir
Cool shade amongst trees

View back towards hill above Alfuir

After following small trails for 40 minutes amongst tree  it's a relief to pop out to sign post and big trails, La Safor in distance
After taking it easy with runs in the heat of the day and not having any problems I headed out at the hottest time of day for short tempo run just to explore what point my body was unable to get rid of the heat, running in 33 degree C at 6:40 pace I coped just fine.  Whilst running in the sun I stayed dry and seemingly sweat free as all the sweat was evaporating as fast as I was producing it, it was only when I stopped and took off my T-Shirt in the cool and still air of the house that suddenly was I aware of just how much my body was working to keep me cool - I was almost instantly covered in sweat.  I find this adaptation to exercising in the heat quite extraordinary, something that is pretty special about humans.

Another aspect of my heat adaptation, beyond sweating profusely, was reduced salt loses.  Previously when running in hot conditions I'd find myself caked in salt, if any sweat dripped down into my eyes it would sting like crazy.  Instead I now found that my sweat was far less salty and more like plain water - my sweat glands had adapted to preserve salt. For all the heat and fatigue I attempted to induce I never once had a cramp, my body just adapted.

For all my adaptation to running comfortably in the heat of the day, at night I struggled to sleep.  Our bedroom would be 27 degrees at 11pm, I found that I would sweat but unless there was a breeze over my skin it wouldn't evaporate so I struggled to keep cool and had rather restless nights for the first week.  Leaving a fan on all night cured the problem, the room was still just as warm but my sweat could be wicked away and heat with it. 

By 10 days into the holiday I considered myself extremely well adapted to the heat, handling it far better than I ever expected to be able to.  So for all who dread running in the heat, just give it time, let your body adapt by challenging it to the heat progressively and you'll be amazed about just what gift our evolutionary past provided for.

Thursday, 25 July 2013

Spainish Holiday and a return to Training

On the 3rd of July my family (wife, three girls aged 9, 11 and 14) and I all headed out to La Safor region in Spain for a two week holiday.  We stayed at my parents new house that they had bought this Spring, the house is nestled in small, traditional Spanish village of Alfuir (pronounced Al-four-wee) in the hills about 10 miles in from the coast.

The evening we arrived we went for a small walk below the local forested hill that has a ruin of small castle on top, as soon as I saw it I knew that I would have to run up to it the next morning, it just called out to me, overriding any notion of keeping up my rest period.  Since doing the Lochalsh Dirty 30 back at the start of June I had not run, instead resting my injured left foot that I've struggled with Metatasalgia (forefoot pain) since mid March.  The rest had marginally reduced the discomfort, but nearly four weeks of no running just hadn't fixed it.   I couldn't keep the rest up, I had the Devil O'Highlands 42 mile ultra to prepare for and only a month of training to cramp in before it, and oooh the hills and trails just begged to be explored.

The first morning I awoke at sunrise before the family awoke and headed out while the air was still a "cool", cool being 22 degrees, 10 degrees cooler than afternoon temperatures.   I was right away reward with a great view from the terrace on the roof, with a view of first part of the hill I'd be running up to right.
7am and sunrise from roof-top terrace in Alfuir
This first run in Spain was also my first run in my new F-Lite 232's, their colours with forever remind me of the sunrises and sunsets of Spain. Zero drop, super flexible, wide enough for my hobbit feet, and very light (6oz on my scales for UK size 6.5) but also just enough cushioning to take the string out of rocks underfoot, but still minimal enough to ensure that feel the ground underneath you so you have to pay attention to foot placement and form.  Shoes' to play in and enjoy.

F-Lite 232 in glorious sunrise colours, lit by the sunrise

The climb to the top was 800ft over 1 mile of technical trails weaving along the old moors terraces and through the trees.  Not far, nor particular high but provide a great vantage point looking back to Alfuir now just popping out from shade of the hill.

View from summit down to Alfuir in the foreground and Rotova in the foothills on the opposite side of the Valley

 The hill provides great 360 panoramic views, below I captured the view from the south, through to west and further inland and to the north. The largest mountain on the left side is La Safor a 3,000ft+ mountain that gives the region it's name.  Later in the holiday I was to run all the mountains in this view except for La Safor - this unfinished business will have to wait till me next holiday to Spain.

View looking south (left), west (middle) through to north (right) 

I descended the hill missing a path turning and ended up in the left side of hill amongst the orange groves that dominate the valley bottoms in this region. Once out of the woodland and on the country lanes in the valley I felt the heat first time and it wasn't even 8 am yet.

This first short run took just 30 minutes but gave a great taster of what treats I had in store.  My foot held up well and was only a little sorer after the run than before, pretty encouraging given just how minimal the F-Lite's are and how stony and unforgiving the trails was.  I was one very happy bunny to back running and to have new playground to explore.

I have plenty more photo's of the different routes I explored on my holiday, it's great looking back over these now that I'm home, there are too many to fit in just one post so I'll post over the next few days.

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Four zero drop shoes for the holidays

For my two week family holiday in LaSafor region of Spain I packed four zero drop shoes, two running shoes from inov-8 for a combined cost of near £120, and shoes and flip-flops I bought from Primark for about £5.  I thought I'd do a quick blog post with these shoes to illustrate that their are now plenty of minimal shoes available and going zero drop 100% of the time is perfectly doable with a range of budgets.

F-Lite 232

First up is my new pair of inov-8 F-Lite 232, they are zero drop, have an anatomical last that fits my wide feet perfectly, are very light and the sole uses inov-8's sticky rubber compound which provides great grip.  The lugs are shallow so they won't make a great shoe for running in mud, but for both the dry conditions rocky trails and tarmac lanes that I ran on in Spain.  The mid-sole is pretty minimal and provides a small amount of cushioning and with no rock-plate you can feel all the rocks and stones underfoot, but the cushioning and lugs take the sting out of them so even though I ran on some very rocky and technical terrain I rarely felt over exposed, you will need to watch where you put your feet though.

I will write a dedicated review of the shoes soon, but the quick conclusion is that right from the first time I put them on to the my last time they have just screamed out run, run fast, run free, I just adore them, they coped well with everything I threw at them are easily the best all round best running shoe that I have ever worn.   Here photographed prior to the trip, stuffed with all my running kit - socks, shorts and T-shirt, saving room in many bag and protecting the shoes from getting squashed.  The colours matched the sunsets and scorching blues skies of Spain so what is there not love!

Bare-X Lite 150

My second shoe was Inov-8's Bare-X Lite 150's, again zero drop with anatomical last.  I chose them for every day usage more than running in them, easy to get on and off with the quick lacing system and great for wearing sockless on these hot summer days.  I find them a little bit tight around the mid-foot but this is down to my oddly shaped feet and how well the shoe secures the mid-foot region, I'm sure more averagely shaped feet will just find them secure and roomy.  The sole is quick soft to touch from the outside, but feels firmer when you wear them.  You can feel all the undulations and bumps underfoot but the sole smooths and cushions it out so you are aware of all the stones but they don't hurt.  While really comfortable for wearing all day I just don't get the urge to run and run fast in them like I do with the F-Lite's, which I have to admit having a rather irrational level of affection for!


Plimsoles with Breathable upper

I also bought a pair of shoes that were a little smarter for going to restaurants but still breathable and minimal enough to wear all day, and to/from the beach.   I got these for under a £5 at Primark, are zero drop and plenty wide enough for even my feet.  The sole is pretty thin with a rubber outsole with only the insole for cushioning, they are essentially just plimsolls with a breathable upper.  These shoes prove that you don't need to spent lots of money on Vivobarefoot shoes to get a minimal every day shoe.


X-Flops!

The final shoe I took with me was a flip-flop I bought for the beach but on trying them out in the house decided I din't like the traditional flip-flop means of attaching the sole to the foot so set about making a custom upper from a sheet of thing foam reinforced with tape.  I settled upon a X layout they secured my foot really well to the sole and as I made it myself ensured that it was sculpted exactly to my foot making them really comfortable to wear and even secure enough to jog if the whim comes to me.


My eldest daughter on seeing them named them X-Flops, a cute play on the X design of the upper and the fact they were once Flip-Flops. Of all the shoes above they had the most cushioning thanks to the 10+mm foam sole, but as they were all just foam actually weighed just 50g each so still qualify as minimal in my book.  Sadly the the glue between the upper and the sole didn't last beyond three days at the beach, however I have to admit my family were not too disappointed by their demise given they rather home-made look :-)

Wednesday, 26 June 2013

#whwrace2013 twitter addition and 7 questions on ultramarathons

Through this Saturday (26th June 2013) I, like many others I'm sure, was sucked into checking up on progress of West Highland Way Race via the #whwrace2013 twitter feed, and the SPORTident webpages that reported who was through each checkpoint and when.

Even devoid on any video, pictures or audio this text stream of information was addictive - better than watching the grand prix any day!  Through the day I got to see some amazing performances unfold.  Have to admit I'm rather astonished by Paul Giblin and Marco Consani who both took around 2 hours off their already impressive PB's.  Paul's performance is still difficult to comprehend, being half an hour faster than record pace for much of the second half and somehow holding it together right to end.  Later in the day I was chuffed to bits to see other come in within their goal time.  Tracking all these performances unfold on my phone and tablet even got my youngest daughter (aged 9, who loves running) a little hooked too.

At one point my eldest daughter (aged 13) quipped so "why aren't you running it Dad?".  Which I didn't provide a proper answer, but realistically right now I can't stay injury free long enough to put in the required training.  Last year when I finished the Fling I was happy to not going any further, the thought of another 42 miles was rather difficult to comprehend.  There is a lure about the West Highland Way Race that is difficult to not be drawn in by.  Partly I think it's about the route itself, it's beautiful and challenging, partly about "surely" you can't run that far in a day craziness, and partly it's about the community and tradition behind it - being part of group of like minded that are daft enough to find supremely difficult and painful challenges as perfect hobby.

So like a month to a light I am drawn, so while I didn't run it this year, someday I want to be there on the start line in Milngavie and if at all possible very much later that day I'll potter in to the Leisure Centre at Fort William exhausted yet elated to have conquered something special.  I have gone from never wanting to do a marathon, to now think if it might be possible to an ultra, now to wondering when I might be able to take on the challenge of the WHWR.

If to prove I have an obsessive enough a personality to train for the WHWR I just came across a little quiz on the bbc website "7 questions on ultramarathons". I answered all 7 questions correctly, does that make clever or just a little over indulging in my passion for running long distances?  I fear it might be the later... However, it is nice to see ultra running getting a little bit of exposure in wider media.

Well done to all those who finished the 95 beautiful miles of the WHWR, and thank you to the organizers, marshals and supporters that provide us with great updates on the unfolding race.

Sunday, 16 June 2013

Lochalsh Dirty 30 : Race Report

This year's Lochalsh Dirty 30 was blessed by wall to wall sunshine, and I was lucky enough to there to experience it.  Memories of bejeweled sea lochs and grand vistas overlooking Skye and mountains inland will stick with me for many years, long after the memories of aches and pains have faded.

The adventure started with on Friday evening trip up with friends Andy and Tom, in Tom's motor-caravan.  The motor-caravan, nicked named "Sloshie" by Tom's kids, is not the fastest of vehicle, combined with a route diversion via Loch Lomond due to an accident meant that it took over 5 hours to get up from Callander to Glenelg.  We arrived at sunset parked up "Sloshie" and had a quick pint in the Glenelg Inn before turning in for the night.

"Sloshie" parked up Glenelg
We awoke to low cloud clinging to hills above and on Skye, it wasn't cold, and the forecast was for sunshine later so we dressed for a warm day.  Tom treated us bacon rolls for breakfast, while I taunted Tom and Andy with my pre-race drink of Beetroot juice.  Andy and I would be running, while Tom was going to walk up Beinn Sgritheall, a local Munroe that he hadn't yet tackled.

We enjoyed breakfast all too much as suddenly it was 8:30am and time to lace up and head down to registration at the Glenelg community hall, with 170+ walkers and runners it was buzzing when we arrived. The organizers did a great job of getting us registered efficiently, we had time for a few final tweaks to our kit and then we were outside for the briefing.  To everyone's amusement a local cat decided it wanted to be the centre of attention, upstaging our event organizer!


Then we were off, with last years winner Scot Kennedy and ultra runner Donnie Campbell leading the way and a bit over 30 runners and well around 140 walkers in their wake.

Race start, Scott and Donnie setting off at record breaking pace, everyone else sensibly didn't follow!

Section 1: 6miles, Glenelg to Ardintoul Point.

The route starts on small roads that take you to the Glenelg/Skye Ferry point, with first half mile shaded by trees, but the next mile we were now bathed in sunshine.  Andy and I settled into a steady 8 to 9 minute/mile pace along the road, it looked like were in about 13th+14th place as we made our way along the road at the Ferry point.

View out towards the Ferry Point and over to Skye
Due to a foot injury my training over the last few months has been next to none existent, I had injured my foot back in mid March, running too many miles in a worn out pair of shoes.  Since mid March I have tried resting up, the trying a little bit of running, then resting up, progressively I've had to cut the running back more and more over the last two months and had to pull out of the Highland Fling.  In the last month I only put in 3 runs of 6 miles in a desperate attempt to rest up and fix my injury for race day. However, my foot wasn't fixed and I could already felt the strange sensation like a having a pebble in my shoe under my 3 and 4th metatarsal heads.  The sensation wasn't bad, but with 29 miles to go it was a reminder to take things easy.

Given my lack of training, the least I've ever done going into an ultra, I had a plan to take it easy and use my heart rate monitor as guide for my pace to make sure I didn't get carried away.  Previous three years I had run the Dirty 30 with an average HR of 163, 165 and 164 respectively, so I figured keeping my HR below 165 was sensible, and for the first section wanted to keep it below 160 to gently ease myself in.  As we hit the first incline just before the Ferry point my HR started heading upwards so rather than match the pace of others around me I told Andy that I was going to ease off and he moved on and joined two runners ahead.  Once past the Ferry point the path heads up and short incline and along a path that traverses a low wooded coastal ridge.

Walking up the incline I joined Helen and Mark Legett who were doing the event for the first time.  Andy was obviously feeling good and left us behind, while Helen and Mark and I formed a relaxed running trio, walking the inclines and running the flats and descents chatting all the while about living and running in Scotland.  Both Helen and Mark had run the Highland Fling several times, both with PB below 10 hours, well under my own time of 10:46 set last year so I was expecting them to leave me behind at some stage.  New to the route they seemed happy to just follow me along the coastal path to the first check point at Ardintoul point.

We pass through the check point after 55 minutes running, pretty close to my previous times and faster than I had expected as so far the pace had felt very relaxed.  Helen and Mark stopped at the check point to fill up with water while I just ran though so suddenly I was on my own.

Section 2: Ardintoul to Letterfearn.

After the check point the you follow a road briefly inland and steeply uphill, as I began my climb I could see that Andy and few other runners were at the top, some heading left along the 30 mile route, with some heading back right and inland to complete the 12 mile route.  By the time I got to the top and started the descent down the path all the runners ahead had been swallowed up by the countryside leaving me on my own.  The sun was shining and views over to Skye were stunning, my foot pain had eased off and I was running with ease, life was good!

After a descent of couple hundred feet the path goes through a small wooded glade and wooded bridge, then turns right and heads uphill through an area where the forestry has been felled.  The path is broken and immediate landscape pretty scrappy, but beyond the mountains, forests and sea lochs stretched out. The lack of shelter along the path combined with the cloudless sky meant the ascent  was a hot one so I took my T-Shirt off and attached securely with my rucksack straps.  Fair skinned I burn easily so decided to just run an hour without my T-Shirt.

The ascent takes you into a woodland where the path mostly petters out, disappearing and reappearing as you follow fire breaks in the woodland, or going directly through the woodland in places.  Event organizers had put out red and white streamers on route making the route easy to follow, and thanks to the recent dry weather the wooded section was only a little muddy in places - it's this section that gives the Dirty 30 it's name and this wasn't living up to it!

Once through the forest you come out onto open hill side before descended rapidly down to Totaig,  the views was just amazing, the Skye bridge at Kyle arcs out elegantly over the water in the distance towards the west, while the first glimpses of Eilean Donnan Castle across the other side Loch Alsh comes into view.  It seems so small dwarfed by the mountains and vistas.

Once down from the hill you join the road and head south east towards the next checkpoint at Letterfearn.  The road is nestled amoungst trees and meanders along so you rarerly get to see far along it.  A mile along the road Letterfearn comes into view and for the first time in an hour I see three runners ahead, one of them I guess must be friend Andy but it's a bit too far to know for sure.

Section 3: Letterfearn to Shiel Bridge

As I approach the checkpoint two of the runners had moved on while one had been drawn in my the Jelly Baby Pitstop - a table laid out with Jelly Babies and water.  As I came across to the table he moved on leaving me to feast!  OK, I only took a couple of sweets but certainly made the most of the cups of water provided as my the litre of water in my Camel back was not going to last all the way to Shield Bridge.   My pitstop left me 30 meters behind the nearest of the three runners, so for the first time  in the race I started thinking about placings, this was further cemented by own of the spectators saying that I was in 5th place.   Given how many runners that was ahead of us earlier in the race and I had only overtaken a couple of them I was perplexed, did most of them go round the 12 miler route?

The sight of runners ahead would normally spur me on to up my tempo to catch them up, but with my HR pacing plan I found it easy to avoid this competitive urge, we were still just 11 miles into the race. I would allow my HR to get to 165, but no higher, if my pace at this HR meant that I was catching them or being left behind I'd accept it equally.  It found it a bit odd thinking in this detached way, but it did mean that I could focus on the day itself rather than race places, and what a day it was!

The views were so good I could resist getting my phone out on my ruckstack to take a photo, as I took the phone out of the zipped up pocket a small poly bag that I had used to store my money, caffeine tablet and salt tablets ripped and exploded out on the tarmac.  I picked up what I could find on the road, stuffed it back in the pocket, took my photo and heading on my way.  With this caffufal I lost a bit of time but was still in touch with the 2, 3 and 4th place ahead:


After another half km I was now catching the 4th placed runner and looked like I'll pass him before Rattagan, and likely catch the two next runners some time around Shiel Bridge, despite my severve lack of training over the past two months things were looking good.  Then... it dawned on my T-Shirt was no longer attached to my rucksack, in adjusting my rucksack to get my phone I must have dropped it, even before my little incident with my supplies falling.  Frustrated and anoyed I was tempted to crack on regardless but I knew that this was foolhardy, I had already had my hour in the sun, another 3 hours would fry me so dejected and sligtly angry turned around and headed back, hoping that it wouldn't be too far back along the route.

I passed several bends in the road, each time hoping to see my T-shirt waiting for me on the road but nothing, so I had to keep going and was now starting to wonder if perhaps I'd missed it.  Half a km back along the route I meet another runner who had just passed it, and there it was just waiting for me.  Ahhghghh, the frustation of loosing time and another place all because of wanting to take a photo.  In the end the mishap had cost me 5 and half minutes and an extra km.

I donned my T-shirt not wanting to risk another dumb mistake and headed off in pursuit.  This time I found it more difficult to run by my HR monitor, my instinct just wanted to up the tempo and catch back up to where I'd been.  My head knew that such a mid race spurt would be suicidal and thankfully overruled my heart, if I was to catch them up it would be done slowly and steadily.  A little luck was on my side as the runner that I had just passed while running back to get my T-shirt had stopped to water the verge and I regained my 5th place.

At Rattagan the youth hostel had put out a table beside the road with cups and jug of water but as it was unmanned when I arrived I just helped myself, no body to thank in person but still very much appreciated on such a hot and relentlessly sunny day.  As I drank my water another runner arrived, Australian Patrick Harrington.  Patrick had gone the wrong way just after the first checkpoint at Ardintoul, following the 12 mile route for a distance before he realized and then got back on track.  Patric was running more strongly so left me behind, again my plan of following my HR was tested but the pace felt right when keeping my HR below 165, above it felt too much effort so my confidence in using the HR monitor as a pace tool was growing.

As we ran the last mile into Shiel Bridge and at the half way point I was now aware that knees and hip flexores were all begining to feel fatigued and sore.  Both feet were also feeling rather raw, especialy behind the toes so began to suspect that blisters were begining to form.  I very rarely get blisters even in really long runs so was surprised to have this level of discomfort in my feet.  The discomfort in the legs I was expecting though, I had now run the furthest I had been in 3 months.

Loosing my caffeine tablet when I pulled out my phone was blow, my plan was to take it at Shiel Bridge using it as a boost for toughest section of the race to come and to down regulate the pain that I was expecting to build through the later stages of the race.  On the positive side I was still running smoothly and was coping far better with the heat than I have ever done before - I'm convinced my shorts spells in the sauna once a week has helped acclimatise me for the heat, getting rid of the heat without my usual salt loss was apparent as normally I'm caked in salt in these conditions.

Section 4: Shiel Bridge to Moyle

I arrive at Sheil Bridge with 2:45 on the clock, 16 miles down and 14 to go.  After going through the checkpoint I nip across into adjacent the camp site and refill my empty camel back.  Patrick had also stopped at the camp site and departs just ahead of me, again looking strong.  Once you leave the camp site the route immediately changes into more barren and rocky outlook that is classic for the highlands. The path follows the bottom of the valley rising steadily uphill towards a mountain pass.  Patrick pulls away steadily and by the end of the valley is a couple of hundred meters overtakes a runner that is ahead.  The path narrows and starts steeply up the right end side of the valley.


All of us are now reduced to walking, but at different paces.  I keep using my HR monitor to guage my intensity letting it climb no higher than 167, I know that there is still over ten miles to go and I've already run further than I've ran all year so won't to make sure I get home in one piece.  With the HR monitor holding me back I actually find the walk up quite easy and comfortable eat and drink.  I catch the next competitor ahead who is stopping regularly to rest and take in the view.

Not long after I hear heavy breathing behind and get passed by David Gallie and and Karren Lyons who are rapidly marching uphill, I briefly chat with them to find out they are hill runners that were slow on the road.  I don't attempt to keep with their pace, instead keep using my HR monitor as a guide to make sure I run my own race efficiently.  I keep the same distance behind Patrick so I know I can't be doing too bad, after another ten minutes climbing Patrick is also passed by David and Karren, shortly after we all reach the top of the pass and begin our descent.

On the steeper parts of the descent I began to catch Patrick who looks to be struggling more or the rocky and narrow path.  David and Karren are no where to be seen clearly there hill descending matched their hill climbing.  Once off the hill the route goes across rough moorland that is mostly runnable and Patrick pulls away again.  On every step my knees and hip flexors are now sending painful reminders that I haven't trained enough to run 30 miles over rough terrain, but my energy levels remain good.  I have to start a mental battle to keep moving when my body is asking to stop and walk, apart from the discomfort I am still feeling positive so mostly can keep moving.

Near the end of the mile long moor crossing I come close catching another runner who is now run/walking.  It turns out to be Andy which gives me a lift, looks like we might be able to finish together like we did the first time we ran the Dirty 30 back in 2010.  I catch up with Andy at a small river crossing where he's cooling himself and drinking water.  Once across the water the route becomes a forest track and head uphill into what was the forest.  The forest has almost completely been felled though so it's a bit eerier running through the barren land.  Andy is struggling more than I, walking more of the inclines, he's not in pain but just out of salts, perhaps literary given just hot and relentless the sun had been.

Section 5: Moyle to Balvraid

We arrive at the Moyle checkpoint and have a cup of water the marshals provided.  Scott Kennedy, last years winner  was helping out with Mashalling, having just ran the 12 mile route and reported that Donnie that had already been through an hour earlier and was on course to set a new record.  Our time through Moyle checkpoint was 4:03 which was only five minutes down on the time that Andy and I went through back in 2010, on the way to finishing in 5:24 so I'm boyed up and get on my way.  Andy is dragging behind and I call for to get going but he suggests that he's just going to taking things easier and I should go on.

Disappointed, in pain, but still feeling reasonably fresh I head on and not long after meet Patrick who is heading back towards me along the track.  Patrick wasn't sure about the route ahead so decided to back track to get instruction but in turning had rolled his ankle on a stone.  After several hours running on really rough ground rolling your ankle on a seemingly benign forest track is tough, just shows how you can't ever entirely relax and just coast along.  We walked the first incline together and once the track flattened off we got running again, Patrick's ankle was sore but looked to be easing off.

Running together we began a good conversevation about running and life in Scotland.  I lead the way on narrow paths with Patrick struggling on the more technical parts due to his ankle but when the trail widened and returned to paths we'd run abreast.  Patrick was an Australian now living in Edinburgh, back in April he'd ran the London Marathon in a time 2:50, over forty minutes faster than my own PB, so I rather felt a bit of impostor.   For next half hour we chatted, walking the uphills and jogging the flats and downhills making steady progress towards the next check point at Balvraid.

About a mile before Balvraid and with improving underfoot conditions it was beginning to be clear that Patrick was moving more comfortably once more and was running more of the inclines than I felt comfortable doing so - my HR readings were above 165 once more and home made energy snack I had just eaten was causing indigestion suggesting at this work-rate my digestion was shutting down.  I bided him good luck and eased off.

Within five minutes my stomach had settled but hip flexors were now not only painful but beginning to tighten up so my stride became more of pained shuffle.  With no company to distract me I resorted to mind game to keep myself running.  I'd allow myself to walk inclines but set myself a bush or stone that I'd have to reach before walking and another before the each summit that I'd have to run from.

Section 6: Balvraid to Glenelg

The farm at Balvraid come into view and when I arrive with two marshalls welcomed me, that took my number, clipped my race card and gave me another cup of water.  No bottles to take with us this year, the hottest year by far, but thankfully I still had a little water left in my Camel back to see me through the last four and bit miles.  Looking over my shoulder I could see another runner perhaps 400 meters behind.  Now in 5th place I wasn't about to just roll over and let it go, while I was in pain and not moving well I still had plenty of energy left and was coping remarkably well with the heat, my head was still in the race even if my connective tissue didn't want to be.

After Balvraid the route is along a road that gently meanders down a narrow valley that is mix of pasture and light woodland.  The small sections of road that were shaded by trees were bliss, as were the gentle descents.  As I had a runner not too far behind I knew I'd need to keep moving, running all the flats and descents and only allow a brief walk for any short ascents.  I was in pain but was able to keep moving, average 10 minute miles, certainly not fast by I hoped it'd be enough to keep ahead.  I kept checking over my shoulder on the straights with no one in view, looking back this was a clear sign that I really was wanting to be able to take it easier, walking was so much less painful that running and was an ever present lure.

I made it out of the valley joined the road that goes around the headland and the last mile into Glenelg and was back into unbroken sunshine.  Just before a little rise I so wanted to walk it, but on looking over my shoulder down the straight behind I was taken aback to see that my pursuer was within 50m.  Yikes, this was a re-run of 2010 race when Andy and I found ourselves being caught and finally passed in the last run into Glenelg.  I wasn't yet ready to loose a place after pushing through so much pain for the last hour, I knew competitively the right thing to do was make a decisive increase in pace to make it clear to my pursuer that they'd really have to work hard to have any chance to catching me.  

The spurt of adrenalin associated with the surprise of being caught was enough to override the discomfort from my knees and hip flexores and I made may we in to at a blistering Glenelg at 8min/mile place!  It's amazing how much effort even an slow run can be after running for over 5 hours.

The view was stunning though and just couldn't let the view go unrecorded so I got out my phone and slowed to a jog to take this photo of the bay at Glenelg, Sky the hill to the left:


Turning back to the road I was presented with the sting in the tail, the route doesn't go around the nice flat road around to left, no... it goes right and up steep hill, it's the sting in the tail after 30 miles of running:


I allow myself to walk half this little road section, it's not a big hill but it's about as welcome as a needle in the eye.  I have got my racing head back on and quickly get back into running and while in pain it was great to actually running strongly.  Off the top of the hill the route goes down a steep path and then joins the road past the Glenelg Inn, through the village center and on to the finish. Tom had great walk and was back in Glenelg in time to catch me running in.  Tom took a great sequence of me running past, and even caught me fleeting glance over my shoulder as I checked to see if my pursuer was going to challenge me to a sprint finish:




I was comfortably clear though.  I finished in 5:37 in 5th place, whilst my pursuer, George Lees , ended up finishing 2 minutes later 5:39.  I'm really glad that George appeared when he did, the prospect of bit of competition spurred on a strong finish.  Patrick finished in 4th, a couple of minutes head of me in 5:35. Mark and Helen Leggett whom I had run the first section with finished not long after George, in 5:41 and 5:43 respectively.

Donnie Cambell came in first setting a new course record 4:15, ten minutes faster than Scott Kennedy's time in 2012.  David Gallie and Karren Lyons who passed me on the big ascent at mile 19 came in together 2 and 3rd in a time of 5:22.

Andy came in at 6:15 having walked much of the way from Moyle.  He had been in 2nd place at Shiel Bridge when the runner who he was with pulled out due to ankle injury.  He stayed in 2nd place till the descent from the mountain pass but then really struggled on the descent down to Moyle, dropping down to 6th.  While he wasn't in much pain or low in energy, his motivation to keep running had melted away and just wasn't bothered by loosing another 10 places in the last 8 miles.  It was such a lovely warm day taking it easy and enjoying the day I can't blame him for taking it easy.

My own time of 5:37 is the slowest I've ever ran the race, a well behind the 5:12 I ran last year, but had I not messed up dropping my T-Shirt I would have done it in 5:31 and taken fourth place. I'm sure had I not dropped my caffine tablet I would also been able to run the last 10 miles faster and in less discomfort.  I don't know whether the potential of a 2nd place would have driven me to run harder as well, but realistically I don't think I could have ran the faster than 5:22 required.  While this is all speculation, what I do know for sure is that I'm chuffed to ran as well as I did, completing a tough 30 mile run on a hot day without so little training in the months running up to the race.  The result breaks my preconceptions on just how much raining is essential when you have experience behind you and your head in the game - sure without the right training it hurts more and you run slower but it's still possible.

Liquid refreshment

After a shower, a very welcome soup made by volunteers at the village hall Tom, Andy and I headed over to the Glenelg Inn for a pint.   What a beautiful location that pub has, with great views from the beer garden:

View on the way to pub
One of the world's great pubs!

Myself enjoying the shade, while Andy enjoys the sun



Andy (left) and Tom (right) enjoying one last beer at Glenelg Inn, with views of Skye over the water

"Sloshie" takes us home

It was so very, very tempting to just stay at the pub and relax for the rest of the evening.  We all have families to get back to so we bundled ourselves back into Tom's van and headed back home. The first obstacle for poor "Sloshie" was getting up over the mountain pass and then safely back down the other side.  Smell of hot break pads filled the cabin on the descent so we took a short breather to let the brakes cool and to enjoy the view



And what a view down to Loch Alsh, Shiel Bridge at the end of the Loch and five sisters lined up above:


It's a rare day when great weather and an event take place on the same day.  While as a runner it being hot and relentlessly sunny might not be ideal, it was simply epic to be out driving, running and hanging out.  Looking back over the photo's now and finishing up the account brings it home to me just how great a day it was, and one that that took part will cherish for the rest of their days.

My thanks go out to race organizers, marshals and volunteers who put on another great event.  Thanks also to Tom McCourt and "Sloshie" for transport accommodation and some great photos.


Personal stats: Average HR 161, Time on HR monitor 5:36:42.  30 miles (+0.62miles for being an idiot :-) and 3000ft ascent/descent.

Full race results for runners (taken from Lochalsh Dirty 30 website):

Campbell, Donnie4 hours 15 minutes
Gallie, David5 hours 22 minutes
Lyons, Karen5 hours 22 minutes
Harrington, Patrick5 hours 35 minutes
Osfield, Robert5 hours 37 minutes
Lees, George5 hours 39 minutes
Leggett, Mark5 hours 41 minutes
Leggett, Helen5 hours 43 minutes
Clements, Gordon5 hours 44 minutes
Morrison, Gary5 hours 53 minutes
Britain, Frances5 hours 59 minutes
Redgrove, James6 hours 0 minutes
Fortune, Carole6 hours 1 minutes
Owen, Russell6 hours 3 minutes
Vinall, Jo6 hours 7 minutes
Dimmer, Andrew6 hours 15 minutes
Budge, Neil6 hours 18 minutes
Lothian, Kristeen6 hours 26 minutes
Burton, Mark6 hours 29 minutes
McWhinnie, Jim6 hours 29 minutes
Gall, Allan6 hours 55 minutes
Dalrymple, Claire6 hours 55 minutes
Gilligan, Steven7 hours 7 minutes
Merrett, Andrew7 hours 7 minutes
Milne, Ronald7 hours 33 minutes
Nicoll, Elizabeth7 hours 33 minutes
Fay, Elspeth7 hours 39 minutes
McKerral, Lesley7 hours 59 minutes
Dyer, Adam8 hours 22 minutes
Fay, Peter8 hours 34 minutes
Duggan, Donna8 hours 47 minutes
Morrison, Peter9 hours 55 minutes