Sometimes things come to you broadside ... no warning... just BAM! and there they are. Some such things are not so great ... an injury, a lost friendship, a family illness. The last year has brought a few of these to me and I am sure to most other people the world over. I am forever grateful that, in comparison to most, our lows are still pretty darned high. But still, I am always thankful for days that just feel 'right'.
Today was a good 'BAM!' moment: Pretty much out of the blue, connecting with a friend I had known for a while and heading out for a run together. We ran a bit, walked a lot (it was hilly and muddy!!! honest!!!), and soon lost 10+ miles together just rattling about nothing in particular. Despite having met through running, we had never run together before, and yet our pace matched just-so. No stress about 'shall we walk a bit?', or pressure to push on, just two friends connecting through running. On our return to the vehicles, we met back up with Ian and Ellie who had been out having their own adventure walking the hills, climbing trees and other such golden Daddy/Daughter stuff. After ice-creams, coffees etc. we bid our farewells to my 'new' running buddy and had ourselves a picnic in the carpark before heading home. After a nice hot bath, I donned my favourite fluffy robe and settled in for a thoroughly chilled afternoon/evening. Today's run wasn't particularly quick, nor particularly long, but it is definitely one that will stay in my memory for a long time. A treasured moment. It's the simple stuff that can so often realign us. Today has recharged my batteries in a way that simply doing nothing could not: The perfect combination of companionship, time in nature, and chilling with loved ones. And that my friends is another reason why I run... you never know when one of those golden days is going to pop out of nowhere... and reboot the system. Happy running... :-)
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The time has come to let you know exactly how crazy 2017 is going to be. I am thinking that it may be the last of my 'BIG' challenge years, with subsequent years returning to focussing on one or two key events, so I figure I may as well make it totally epic!!!
I have always steered clear of serious obstacle races because of the risk of injury but 2017 sees me step up to the challenge of not one, but a whole season of them! My upper body strength is pretty abysmal so Winter will see me putting in some fairly tough training to get myself up to a standard that is less embarrassing by the Spring. Warm up races aside, the season will start in earnest on 11th March with Ratrace's The Mighty Deerstalker. Billed as the UK's biggest night race, this looks set to be a tough cookie as it is set in Scotland... in March ... at night!!! It will involve woodlands, mountains, scree slopes, river wades and more... all by the light of our headtorches. Wish me luck!!! I will then have a short break before the summer season kicks off in May with Ratrace's Dirty Weekend. This truly is a humdinger of a run - 20 miles scattered with 200+ obstacles. I have got to get my obstacle racing sorted ready for this!!! And then I need to make a swift recovery as the following weekend sees my return to the fantastic Hope 24, for 24 hours of battling with Plympton's hills and woodland. June will see the family return to Ratrace's Runstock, the epic 8 hour event we all took part in in 2016 and are so looking forward to already. Then once again a quick recovery will be needed as the following week I take on the 69 miles of Hadrian's Wall in Ratrace's The Wall. July will see me running a marathon with a difference in the Lake District in Rat Race's Man v Lakes - this marathon will see us getting our feet/legs wet start to finish and doesn't look to be for the faint-hearted! And then we make a jaunt to London for Ratrace's Survival of the Fittest - a 10km obstacle course around Wembley Stadium with a Gladiator's-style travellator finish! August will mostly be spent recovering and re-grouping before heading to Snowdonia in September for Ratrace's Man v Mountain. This race see us running from Caernarfon to Snowdon, then up over the mountain and finishing getting rather wet in Dinorwic's slate quarry lakes! And then another go at Survival of the Fittest, this time in Cardiff... before what will hopefully be my final run of the season - in mid-October - 2 marathons in 2 days in the Sahara Desert. It looks set to be an amazing season. And I won't be alone! Along with my usual side-kicks of Ian and Ellie who form the most amazing support crew when they aren't taking part in their own event, I am being joined by a few other friends along the way and, incredibly, by one friend for the entire season! I am sure there are going to be a lot of tears alongside the cheers all the way. Watch this space!! :-) It's results week for all of those who applied for a place to run the London Marathon through the online Ballot. Oh, the emotions! I remember the huge sinking feeling of my first Ballot rejection back in 2002 and the repeated dejection of subsequent 'No' magazines arriving on our doormat. I feel the pain of all those people who have hung their hopes on running THE marathon, only to find it is not to be for at least another year.
I have watched my Facebook newsfeed fill with whoops of joy or cries of disappointment depending on the nature of the magazine (or email) that people have received. The online running forums to which I subscribe have talked of little else all week. That is understandable... it's a big thing for a lot of people. What I do not find so understandable though is the vitriol with which some folks have criticised the London organisation. Yes, I guess that it can just be sour grapes... and it can just feel plain unfair (stamps foot like a spoilt 3 year old). I have been there and felt that too. But I think that perhaps we have to just put a different perspective on things... London was once just a big city marathon with a small field. The field grew substantially over the years and so did the international attraction. Alongside Tokyo, Boston, Berlin, Chicago and New York (and the IAAF World Championships and Olympic Games), it now forms one of the World Marathon Majors Series. It is a top international event, attracting the top international names in the sport of marathon running. It is akin to being on the PGA World Tour in Golf, or on the Formula One Racing Circuit, or any other world series... As an also-ran weekend cyclist, I would never anticipate getting a place on the Tour de France, yet a marathon runner (or even someone who has not run a step yet in their lives) can apply for a place (lets call in a 'wild card', as that is what it really is) to run in one of the world series events through a ballot. What an honour! Personally, I think that London deals with its kaleidoscope of roles very well. First and foremost, places go to those international stars out a the front of the field. Then places go the the 'Elites'. Most of these guys and gals are running spectacular times, sometimes only marginally behind the international stars, whilst still holding down day jobs and family commitments. They get to start with the Elite field, and rightly so. They have the potential to make a name for themselves and possibly get picked up for national or international competitions. These are serious runners! As are the next group of individuals to get a 'guaranteed' place at London - the Good For Age (GFA) places. The GFA criteria are lower than the Elite but those who attain them are still performing in the top percentages amongst marathon runners. The times set are similar to those required to get a Boston qualifying (BQ) time. For most runners, attaining a GFA time (or a BQ) takes commitment to the sport, and I think it is only right that such committed runners earn their places on the start line. How about other committed runners who perhaps can't quite make the GFA cut? Well, all recognised running clubs across the UK receive an allocation of places relative to their membership. Most hold their own ballot, open to their own members who were rejected in the main ballot thus allowing the committed club runner another option to get in. Everyone else basically needs to apply for a wild card (AKA entering the Ballot). Yes, it's a slim chance but even if you don't get in, you do have the chance to run for a charity if you really want that place. And yes, I agree, the charity fundraising targets are huge and onerous but that is purely a case of supply and demand. Should there be so many charity places at London? That is a difficult one, but London is a truly special event with its crazy mixed field and the charity runners play a huge part in that. It works... and it raises colossal amounts for charity each year so I think the balance is actually right. I got my first (and, to date, only) Ballot place in 2009. I was pregnant when the 'Yes' magazine dropped on my doormat. Talk about the law of Sod! Thankfully, London allow you to defer your place for a year so I first got the chance to run London in 2010. By then I had run 4 or 5 other marathons. I had got my time down to within 16 minutes of a GFA qualifier. I'd have probably got my GFA place within the next year or two. However, the thrill of finally running THAT marathon (together with months of hard training pushing my daughter in a buggy!) got me within a GFA qualifying time, thus securing my place to run again the next year. I was honoured to run that first year but felt that I had definitely earned my place in the following years. Nowadays, I haven't run fast for some years. My last sub-4 hour marathon was in 2013 and my current GFA target is 3:50. Simply put, I don't want to run London that desperately right now that I am willing to put myself through the rigorous training schedule required to get my times down to run a qualifying marathon. Did I apply in the Ballot? You bet! But I wasn't surprised, or even that disappointed when my 'No' email arrived yesterday. There are plenty of other runs out there that I want to tick off my bucket list. So come on people, get some perspective on this! It's not the only marathon out there. It's not even the only big city Spring marathon out there (Paris anyone?). Yes, it's worth doing... but it can be so much sweeter doing it when you have fought for it... served your time in endless applications year after year, put in the hard training to get a qualifying time, put in the effort to make the fundraising total etc. It's true that we don't always get what we wish for... but we can get what we work for. Go work for it! :-) It is a little known fact that running spurs creativity... well, it does for me anyway! Given a good run, once I've found my rhythm, I can compose my blog posts in my head, and even pen the odd poem. More often than not, these poems get discarded once I get home. They have served their purpose, kept my brain occupied over the course of the miles. But sometimes there is a 'keeper' - one that I will try to commit to the page upon my return.
Last Sunday was a glorious day for a run. The sun was shining, the light was clear with a warm hue that only Autumn seems to produce, the leaves were just turning colour. I had a gorgeous 8 mile run along the canal thinking of nothing in particular, but by the time I got home, the following poem was keeping me company and seemed deserving of salvation... Hope you like it! Just Me I am fire and ice. I am chalk and cheese. I'm a roaring gale and a soft summer breeze. Between a babbling brook and a river in spate, I am no one special and nothing great. I am full of compassion. I am loyal and true. I'm a faithful friend to the trusted few. I won't pander to ego, don't tolerate lies. Do not try to fool me, I can see it in your eyes. I am quiet in the corner, meek and mild. I am loud and brash... a real wild child. I am a rainbow of colours, shining bright. I am dull and grey, like the fading light. I am black and I am white, like the words on a page. I am redder than blood in a seething rage. I'm a shrinking violet and a drama queen. I am all of this. .. and everything between. Whether age old friends or we've just met I'm just the same...what you see is what you get. I am brutally honest, straight and true With a spicy dash of daring do. I am power and strength, a woman of steel. I mean what I say and I say what I feel Impotent and weak, I shrink from the crowd. But check me again, and I'm standing proud. I am juxtaposed, the yang and the yin. I cannot explain... don't know how to begin. I do what I say and say what I do. If I take on a task, I will see it through. So take a good look...What you get is what you see For above all else, I am just me. (Luan Wall, October 2016) It was back in March 2014 when I first made a foray into the world of endurance racing beyond single marathons. The previous Autumn, after making the decision to 'give up marathon running', I had made the impulsive decision to sign up for VoTwo's Jurassic Coast Challenge - three days of running roughly marathon distance each day along the dramatic Dorset coast from Charmouth to Studland Bay. Lord only knows why I suddenly thought it seemed like a good idea, and I certainly didn't know the incredible impact it would have on my future running but that is sometimes the way fate chisels our path... With the enormity of the challenge that I had set myself, I knew that I was going to have to push my training to whole new levels through the winter of 2013/14. I researched as much as I could about the sort of training needed for an event of this type and set about creating a new, harder, tougher, off-road-running me. The winter was spectacular in its ferocity, with weeks of seriously icy and windy and wet weather through which I pushed myself out of the door for back-to-back-to-back mid-week runs, long runs, and long, muddy hill repeats of up to 20 miles at a time. By the time I set off for Dorset, I knew I was the strongest I had ever been at that time of the year and hoped it would be enough to see me through. When I got to the pre-race briefing on day 1, however, my confidence melted. Looking around me, I could see more than a hundred individuals, each of them with the look of seasoned ultra-runners. They had all of the right kit, and it looked like it had all been used in anger a few times at least... unlike most of my kit which had been used only on a couple of training runs before that first fearful day. I was petrified. What on earth was I doing here? I certainly didn't belong amongst the ranks of wiry racers by whom I seemed to be surrounded. This was a totally new feeling for me. As a road runner, I always knew my pace, and my place within the group. With personal bests of 44 minutes for 10km and 3 hours 44 mins for marathon, I was comfortably mid-pack and positioned myself accordingly at the start of races. I would generally start about one third of the way back in the pack, and finish about one third of the way down the results. As such, I was always surrounded by runners of my own ability/experience. With the exception of my first ever (looped) road marathon, I had never been challenged by checkpoint cut-offs, or the risk of not actually finishing what I had started. Bundled into the race minibus that first day in Dorset, heading to the start, my nerves didn't diminish. With absolutely nothing to compare my pace with, I was seriously doubting my ability to hit each of the days checkpoint cut-off times. In the back of my mind, I was also hoping that I wouldn't get left behind as I wasn't confident in my navigational skills either (although for the most part, it just involved keeping the sea on my right!!). Too much uncertainty! I really needn't have worried. I was certainly behind the first third of the runners that day, but I wasn't at the back, and I didn't get left behind. My legs ached by the end of it, but I think my facial muscles probably ached more, from all the smiles I had had along the way. I truly loved the feeling of being out there in some of the best scenery the UK can offer... I was hooked already! By the start of day 2, my confidence was a little higher, although I was now into the totally unknown territory of back-to-back marathons, with the second day being tougher, and actually a couple of miles longer than marathon distance. I didn't feel too stiff or sore, however, and despite the tough terrain of the previous day, my footwear choice had proven right and my feet were blister free. Looking round at everyone lined up for Day 2, I drew strength from the fact that I was actually faring better than some of my fellow runners, many of whom had had to pay a visit to the medic prior to the briefing. I could do this! Again, I finished the day in good time and in pretty good shape. My muscles were sore, but I was still both blister free and injury free. The views of the day had been stunning. Glorious sunshine and clear visibility meant that when we finished the section at Lulworth Cove, we had enjoyed spectacular views all the way back round the coast to Portland, and to Weymouth where we had started the day. By the start of day three, and despite it being the toughest day of the three, I knew that provided I took it steady, I was certainly going to finish. I learned a lot about myself over those three days. What I didn't realise is how much more there was still to learn. Fast forward then to September 2014, and I toed the line for my first ever 24 hour race. In many ways, despite the enormity of the challenge of running for 24 hours, I was more comfortable with myself. I had set myself the challenge of running at least double marathon distance and decided to take it as it came beyond that point. Despite my feet shredding in the early hours of the morning (due to a sun-baked cattle-trodden couple of fields in the middle of each lap), leading me to have to take a couple of hours rest, I managed 78 miles. I was thrilled. I was an ultra-runner! Or was I?
Of course, technically, I had run an ultra-distance and therefore was an ultra-runner. But nobody actually told my psyche that. For the following 18 months I turned up at ultra-distance events with that same feeling of being the 'outsider'. Not that anyone ever made me feel like that, quite the contrary in fact. The ultrarunning scene is an exceptionally friendly one and it is very easy to bond with fellow runners when you are sharing your pain. Coming forward to 2016, this year alone I have competed at 3 24-hour races and numerous 50km and beyond runs. I have run a lot! Yet, I remain in awe of most of the individuals with whom I toe the line. Many of these individuals I now have the honour to class as friends, or at least as running acquaintances. But I am still slightly star struck by their abilities. They have dedication and perseverance and an ability to perform at levels so far beyond anything I can ever dream of. Many of them have done, or are currently doing, incredible things. At my last 24-hour race of this year, last month, I threw everything at the course and squeezed 94 miles out of a rather muddy circuit. It pretty much broke me and I was totally spent immediately after the race. I was thrilled at the result, but more than anything else, I was stunned to find that I finally felt like I had earned the title of ultrarunner. I felt like I belonged! I am still, and forever will be, in awe of the results of those right out at the front of the pack but I can now say that, at last, I feel like a (humble) ultrarunner. I think I have found my feet! |
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