Wednesday, 31 August 2011

and JUMP!

i've been intrigued to give ghyll scrambling a go for a long time. for those not in the know, you walk up a mountain alongside the ghyll (mountain stream / river) and then so far up you get in it and come down..sliding on your backside, jumping into the plunge pools below the waterfalls, diving in, 'superman' slides, headfirst backward slides and many more. its cold, its great, it gets the blood pumping. it even features at number 14 in the the uk's top 100 things to do before you die and its the ghyll we scrambled, stoneycroft ghyll, that's the one to do...like the picture below (that ive copied..its not mine)

it might not look that exhilirating but get in the thick of it and you know about it. i volunteered to be the first of the group to jump off into the infamous 'washing machine'. i bottled it. hollie then went over, no trouble. i came forward a little later. i bottled it again. once all the others had madly taken the challenge on, i found myself sat all alone, the last to go, on what now felt like the 'ledge of shame'...16 or so pairs of eyes staring up at me..'will he? wont he?' or maybe 'get on with it you big girls blouse'. i stepped forward, took a deep breath and off i went..SPLASH! not so bad after all..mind over matter. anyway if you're up that way and fancy something a little different, that's your fella!

by contrast the rest of the holiday was somewhat less hair raising but by no means less breath-taking for different reasons.

staying for the first time in grasmere, i was able to explore fells otherwise as yet untrood by me. and as we were directly under stone arthur, alcock tarn and the fairfield horseshoe that's where most of our walking / running took place..


mrs uc and his nibs ponder the meaning of life at alcock 'infinty' tarn


helm crag


helm herdies


stone(d) arthur


leaving the fairfield clag behind


coming off towards ambleside


colliewobbles for ultra collie


the best thing was that it was around a relentless 3000ft climb in 3 miles up to fairfield from our cottage. a lungbuster indeed. great views all the way until near the top when the clag came down and challenged my mapless/compassless navving..it was all in my head (luckily)

all in all great times

next up, the hardmoors 60 down the cleveland way from saltburn to filey :)

Tuesday, 2 August 2011

i can laugh about it now

'how are you doing?' came the question from a marshall as i was leaving the first checkpoint at Howtown. 'i'm feeling great. and i'm a minute up on last years time!'. words i was shortly going to ponder and regret.

some short time later there i was, barely into double figures, and on the verge of quitting. not jut quitting the lakeland 50 but quitting ultrarunning altogether. in my head i was penning my ultra running obituary for this blog. i think it was going to say something along the lines of 'been there, completed that, can't be arsed anymore'.
the sun was beating down (uncannily for the lakes), the air was stagnant, my heart was racing higher than it should have been and at a rate too fast to see my through a full 50 miles. a constant drip of beads of sweat falling from the rim of my hat were an ongoing reminder of the effort i was seemingly putting in. and sat on my backside, not for the first time either, a steady stream of other weary competitors climbed on past me. but they were still moving on, i wasn't.
there were no post mortems going on in my head, no self-blaming or accusations of undertraining or not being in the right physical shape to complete the big task i'd embarked upon. none of that. i had an eerie sense of calm defeatism and resignation that my ultra running days were soon to be over. in fact were over. a 2500ft climb over a few short miles had finally got the better of me and that was that. i'd done it many times before with ease but now the only thought was if i could get back down to the Howtown checkpoint for a lift back to Coniston..'taxi for Donaghue' i would hear them say!

with nothing more to prove what was so wrong with giving up?

EVERYTHING
. everything was wrong with giving up!

i had karen, hollie, and will monitoring my progress online at home via the event's brilliant progress board. they had been giving loads of support before i left and hidden away loads of tiny little good luck messages in my pack and kit. what message would i be sending my kids (and karen)..'sorry guys, dad couldn't be arsed'
then there were the post event celebrations that were planned in coniston with simon, will, col, nick and others, most of whom were doing the jaw-dropping 100 route (respect to anyone who lines up on the staring line for that one, completing it or otherwise). what was i going to tell them? how could i even consider sitting at the same table as them with my pityful effort and tale to tell!
and finally, 'well done donaghue you've rounded off a great year of non-running and a 3 year stint of ultrarunning with your greatest achievement yet! a DNF!'

with my spirit fighting back my body's call to quit, a guy, who i now know as Dave Coxon, struggles past me. He'd started the 100, got 38 miles into it but was timed out, so he decided to quickly switch his efforts to the 50 (amazing!). now i don't recall all the conversation we had but whatever was said about just getting to the next checkpoint or actually finishing was the ultimate tipping point for me. thank you dave! you were judge and jury.

what happened thereafter might not have been pretty, it might not have been quick, but once through the next checkpoint at mardale head, i was virtually euphoric the rest of the way.




coming off gatesgarth pass i was joined by a chap called adam who i was to complete the rest of the course with and once at troutbeck we were joined by paul (aka four winds). we ticked off each mile swapping tales, smalltalk, and bigtalk, and, as we entered the wee early hours of the morning, jokes that seemed hilarious at the time (you had to be there). paul got a right taste for coffee at each checkpoint to keep him going while i downed my secret weapon of redbull to keep my attentiveness for the route-finding ahead in the dark.

time quickly passed. i was having a ball.. interspersed with a few swear words from time to time when i hit a minor and short lived low.

though 2 hours off my 2010 time, i wouldn't have swapped this whole experience for anything. a tough, demanding but inspiring course. the magnificent checkpoints and people manning them (especially the log burner at chapel stile), the roars and cheers from the pub crowds as we trailed through ambleside. the highs, the lows,and the in-betweens. the friendships made and the passing acquaintances.
and three ordinary guys who started the race probably looking quite normal who after 50 miles grinned inanely at the finish line taking on what can only be described as alien-like appearances



and as the early hours morphed into day, we all met as planned to trade our war stories..celebrations, comiserations, each and every person a true winner.. til late into the night, starting with a pint of the stuff below in honour of absent friends. and as pints were downed the talk turned to coming back next year for seconds or thirds. and the more pints downed, the more the talk was of the 100 mile challenge. before anyone could talk me into such madness i sloped off and headed off to the sanctury of my bed.



(special thanks go out to mark, terry, lauren, and all the helpers who clearly go more than an extra mile to make this by far the uk's best ultrarunning event ever)

Wednesday, 13 July 2011

manning up

it never ceases to amaze me how kind and supportive fellow runners / bloggers are when you need a bit of a lift or a boot up the proverbial. or to put it another way, as was gratefully suggested, to 'man up'. so thank you for all the lifts, boots, pearls of wisdom and phrases now embedding themselves in the daily vernacular.

so...yesterday was good. run to work at 0445. run back at 1730. 34.81 miles. 4550ft of gritstone trail. no ill effects. should have eaten more than a couple of gels both ways but glad to land back in the evening at the knot inn in my village for full fat coke and salty snacks.
the psychology of running back in the evening is always harder than the morning run..but then i guess that's where the 'manning up' really happens.

along the way hares were aplenty. a randy bull made me divert a field*. and the jump of a deer over a fenceline would have put most horses at hickstead to shame. sheer effortless elegance, unlike my shuffling. and all too quick to catch on camera bar the bull. so here's nice pic of macc forest instead. cheers guys.



* i didn't 'man up' quite enough at this particular point in the proceedings

Thursday, 7 July 2011

no time for over analysis

osmotherley? pass. next please.
sometimes when stuff doesn't work out or go as you planned and imagined, for whatever number of reasons, you've just got to regroup, dig deep and move on.
the naked truth can be ugly
i need to rediscover the beautiful truth
with the truth of being unprepared for the upcoming lakeland 50, that's all i have to say right now. either a great experience awaits or one of titanic proportions. i've three weeks to mend things

Friday, 1 July 2011

i run for fun

so why the day before osmotherley phoenix (33m) and i am sat examining in detail my splits for my previous two attempts? will i be constantly checking my watch? will i enjoy it? will it all end in tears? i'll let you all know :)

Sunday, 26 June 2011

felldancing

so yesterday i left the house in one state of mind, at sorts with myself, and came back in a totally transformed state, buzzing and elated. so what happened in between?

i set off in my car, minus the pooch whose company i didn't fancy!, with the idea of maybe going to the gym, maybe going and having a run somewhere to help clear my head. lots of maybe's, none of which were filling me with any degree of excitement. it was just one of those days. we all get them, thankfully for me they're few and far between.

so i thought i'd text my mate, jonny macc, just on the off chance to see if he'd fancy a nice gentle trot out to chew the cud and help raise a little cheer. the text I got back was a little unexpected.. 'off to do the whaley waltz*. fancy it?'.

OMG i thought, i haven't done a short race for at least 2, if not 3, years (teggs nose). whatsmore, i haven't done any speed work of any substance for ages too.and i'm not what i'd describe as race fit for a short blast like this one. and to top it all i'd had a few the night before!

what if i come last i thought to myself. bugger it! the whole idea had taken me so by surprise there was nothing to it other than to say 'on my way'. it would be a blast even if i do shame myself. so throwing caution/anxiety/nerves/panic to the wind i headed round to maccas, quietly excited and part bricking it, to pick him up en route. with zilch eaten he kindly fed me toast and jam, a favourite pre race fuel, washed down with a nice mug of tea. a quick change into some kit and off we headed on the short drive to whaley bridge.

(macca and his mate matt at registration)



looking round at the other runners at the start there weren't many, what i would call,fun runners kicking about. it was a small field but most looked fairly handy. oh well. too late now i thought..let's just go and enjoy it. the hooter went and off we went along the main street heavily lined with people clapping and cheering, most there for the afternoon fete not just the race.

it's essentially a race of two halves. all uphill for the first half then down for the second. it was mostly muddy and slippy throughout and only equipped with my north face rucky chuckys (not the ideal shoe for this sort of thing) i took the downhill with a little bit of caution in a few places.

a mile in realising i wasn't going to be last i settled into the run and loved every minute of it. i made decent progress (for me anyway!) up to the 'turning point', windgather rocks for the second half descent, during which i fell back just two places (listen to me becoming all competitive and bothered about placings!).

then just before the finish came the real treat..the jump into the river, which was flowing at 4ft. another friend, phil from buxton,told me the best strategy was just to literally leap as far as you can into it..otherwise you have to swim across! whatsmore there was a huge crowd of spectators on the other side expecting entertainment and comedy from each and every leap into the river. i think they got their money's worth. my landing was akin to peter kays infamous bombing in the john smiths ad..somewhat ungraceful and making one hell of a splash. all races should finish this way!! you can see it below..im in all black around 3.07-3.17 into the video




i was buzzing having loved every minute of the whole thing. a sliding doors moment/text that just might see me now lining up to do a few more of these. i loved the intensity of it all, pushing myself and putting a bit of a shuffle on, something i haven't tried or done for a long time. and phew i didnt finish last

so cheers jonny macc for the off the cuff inspiration! it was truly a blast and a fantastic re-immersion (literally) back into fell running. i'll be coming back for more.

the white nancy ale afterwards back in the vale in bollington wasn't bad either!







*for those not in the uk, the whaley waltz is a 5.78m/792ft fell race in the peak district.