Race Report - Road Race - Ashby 20 - 19th March 2017

I wasn't looking forward to Ashby 20. But the thing is; every runner I know, locally, seems to have done Ashby 20. They have the hoody and rave about the cheese cob. It sells out in hours too. So when the registration opened, I entered. I didn't do any training for 20 miles in the months and weeks before the race, I just stuck to my usual training of weekly intervals and runs of around 10k.

So as the race day approached I started to feel very under prepared, I've done 2 marathons before, but one of these was 4 laps of a 10k obstacle course, so not a huge amount of running, and the other was marathon du medoc, which was more drinking than actual running. So I don't really have the endurance for this distance.

I had no idea what pace to try and maintain, especially as I don't train or set paces or distances in miles. I only work in kilometres. So I sat with a calculator and worked out its about 32k, and thought if I can manage 5 min kilometres, that's 3 x 50 minute 10k runs back to back, which is should be OK. So with this, I set my self the target of 2h41m,

Once arriving at Ashby it all very easy to park up, and get ready for the race. I wasn't sure about feed / water stations so I opted to wear a race vest with a bottle of energy drink and some snack bars stashed in the pockets. Turns out there was plenty of water / feed stations and my pack was a complete waste of time.

As the race started I was pretty far back, which I was happy with, as I didn't want to get caught up,and rush off too fast. The first mile or so was great, chatted with old friends and new friends as the huge melee of runners found their pace and position in the opening stage. After the first mile I was happy turning my legs over at roughly 5 minute kilometres which was spot on for my desired pace. I caught up with a few Team Derby Runner team mates and enquired if any of them had seen Hicky.

Hicky is a great runner and a similar speed to me, although he has way more endurance and experience with longer races, so when I heard he was aiming for 2h45m I though I could find him, sit on his shoulder and use him to pace my race. So I picked up my pace a little and went on the hunt for Hicky.

I caught up with Janine, another TDR runner, at maybe around mile 8 or 9, and we had a friendly chat and carried on with my hunt for Hicky, At around the half way point I was still feeling fairly strong and good, and reached the 10 mile mark at just over 1h20. This was OK, I was still on target.

At about mile 12 I was desperate for a pee, and nipped into to the bush to take care of business, as I rejoined the race, I saw Janine catching up with me, and promptly got back up to speed and continued my hunt for Hicky. Although catching Hicky is now looking very unlikely as i'm only managing to maintain my pace and not increase at all now.

At mile 15 things start to go down hill rapidily. my hip flexors start to hurt, my feet are getting sore, and I have armpit chaffing! ARMPIT chaffing! since when is that a thing! Not long after passing the 15 mile marker Janine appears at my shoulder, and is still very cheery, My mood isn't cheery anymore, and there isn't much time to tell Janine all my woes and pains, as she drifts on past looking very strong indeed.

I try to keep Janine in my sights, but at every single mile marker on the final 5 miles something new hurts, and legs get that little bit heavier. The crowds and marshals are incredible, encouraging every step of the way. But it doesn't make life any easier. The hills are just so hard now, I start to walk on one of the hills, but kick my self back into gear after only a few metres. Telling my self I can rest at the end.

I plod on and soon enough I'm at mile 19, and it's a fairly grim up hill run towards the end of the race. I try to just keep plodding on. I'm slowly loosing places as the wheels have just completely fallen off now. The final 800m of the race follows a lovely downhill path followed my a flat loop of the event village before the finish line. I couldn't pick up the pace for the descent and continued to loose places to people who had something left in their tank. But I managed to pick up the pace slightly look strong for the run around the edge of the event village and finally over the line.

I go and collect my finishers hoody, and goody bag before sitting on the grass, taking my trainers off and chilling out and chatting to fellow runners about the usual crap runners talk about. I then wonder back to the finish line to see if I can spot my sister finishing. After watching Sheena come over the line, I spot Janine sitting on the bank and wonder over to congratulate her.

This is one of the best things about running! The great people you meet and those moments when someones face is full of smugness, and they great you with 'A'right Andy, how you doin'?'' and then you sit and share stories and laugh at the mini battles you have on the race course.

Oh and Hicky! Hicky smashed it. He came in at around 2h30! I came in at around 2h47, so i'm bloody glad I didn't see him at the start of the race otherwise I would have blown up a lot earlier on, trying to keep pace with that! and would have probably have had to walk the final few miles!

Race Report - Trail Race - The Holly Bush Inn New Years Day race - 1st January 2017

This race always starts the year off in great way, A local race, organised by local people, from a proper English country pub.

There is absolutely nothing to dislike about this race. I love it so much. My kids have ran with me in the past, my sister runs it most years too, and there are always clubs mates from my running club, and mates I know from life too.

The classic start of Tim firing a double barrelled shotgun is a great tradition, and really fires you up and starts the race with a bang, and every goes off like a shot (see what I did there?). I wasn't really up for a race today, hungover and simply happy to run around with either my sister or my mate Chucky. Chucky and I were still discussing to wear a coat or not when the shotgun went off, so we were one of the last people to start the race, but this didn't really matter.

It's a narrow uphill start so the pace was fairly steady at the back but Chucky and I slowly weaved our way through. Once the path opened up onto the road neither of us could muster any more speed. I was really struggling on the road uphill, and Chucky just seemed to be in cruise mode, powering up the hill. Once at the top of the hill I was feeling much more comfortable but didn't push the pace as it was nice to chat and run. We then hit the final third of the race, which was pretty much all down hill on muddy fields.

Muddy downhill running, is my bag. I frickin' love it. So I ramped up the pace and started racing more aggressively and picking off as many runners as I could, I left Chucky and put about a dozen other runners in between us before the final steps and the finish back outside the pub.

The prize for completion is a bottle of real ale, custom made for the event. BOOM. Perfect way to start the new year.

Race Report - Shipley Country Park Orienteering - 11th July 2015

A story of over confidence and not learning from my mistakes.

Full of bullish confidence after a hard fell race at Cromford on Wednesday, I was ready to push hard at a friendly, non-league orienteering event on Saturday. I met up with a few mates there including JP who I beat by 5 mins at Cromford. I was hoping that my speed would balance out his higher navigation skills and orienteering experience to beat him again. These events are super slick and registration is a breeze, and all the information is enthusiastically  given by the volunteers and marshals.

The four of us head off to the start point, cleared our dibbers, and line up in the starting pens. TH went off first and I was second. This was quite handy as TH is pretty good at navigating, so I broke rule 1 of the orienteering hand book. 'Don't follow other people' (they probably are going somewhere different). Anyway I watched TH pick his route and jog off. After a minute had passed I dibbed the start control, grabbed the map and quickly found my self on the map, and confirmed that TH had gone the right way and followed his path.

The first control was pretty easy to find and the route to the second was pretty obvious too. As I approached control 2 I had already made up the minute gap on TH. I took a slightly different route to control 3, and again reached it slightly after him. After consulting the map I decided on a direct route to number 4 and ignore the path around 'woodland fight' section. Bad Idea. I ended up crawling through a thick hawthorn  hedge, dropping my sunglasses and then struggling through a meadow with grass and wild flowers up to my chest. This was a much slower and more painful route.

I then took a less direct but much quicker route to control 5, and then hacked through another meadow to a wide path ready to get control 6. It all went horribly wrong here, it was only 300 metres from control 5 to control 6 (as the crow flies) but I went off in the wrong direction trying to find a break in a high fence (that I didn't need to cross) I went round and round in circles trying to get a fix on where I was on the map to try and work out a bearing to the control. But I just compounded my issues by running faster in the wrong direction, rather than settling down and calmly reading the map properly and getting sorted. Luckily I was in good company, with JP and KL both struggling blindly. We all started to converge on the same point and then realised we were, finally, in the right area. A shout from KL and we all raced over and dibbed the dastardly number 6. I then rushed off to get back to a known path on the map to re orientate and settle.

I learnt NOTHING from the 20 minute nightmare and went off with gusto and stupidity, and went flying past the the path I need to take and ended up completly off the map fighting though grasses at head height, fences, marshland before getting back on track, and dibbing control 7. Looking at the map life seemed a lot easier, with less choices to make, and slightly simpler terrain. I even managed to open up the legs and get some real running in also. I even made some cracking navigation decisions, going longer but on more accessible path. After a bit of trouble finding the final control. It was a blistering sprint to the finish.

I finished in just over an hour, with my legs, and arms covered in scratches, bites, nettle stings, all glowing red with nice swollen white bits too. I must invest in some gaiters, and take some anti-histamines later too  It was a valuable lesson in the perils over confidence and the need pick a route carefully!

Strava: (Didn't hit start until I had found the 3rd control - Doh!)

Thanks to
www.dvo.org.uk

Kit:
Shoes: Salomon Fellraisers
Socks: Decathlon running socks
Shorts: nike Dryfit running shorts
Top: Mudstacle Running Vest
Watch: Polar RC3 GPS (not used for any kind of navigation)
Extra Kit: Generic Flat base Compass, Seemless scarf worn as a sweat band on wrist.

Race Report - Cromford Fell Race - 8th July 2015

That hurt! That Hurt A LOT, And it just kept hurting more and more.

I rocked up at Cromford rugby fields with JP and quickly got registered and ready to race. We stood and chatted and caught up with few other runners before mustering at the start line. After a short briefing we were away. A quick lap of the field helped thin out the runners before hitting the canal tow path. The path was wide enough for 2 or 3 runners a breast and he first flat kilometre was spent finding my pace and settling in and was fairly painless.

Time to bring the pain, as I crossed the canal bridge I started the uphill section. The high peak trail is a stunning bridleway that stretches from the Cromford canal rising steeply above the Derwent Valley before cutting a path into the heart of the Peak District. Today's course only followed that steep incline out of the valley. The path was wide and well maintained but was a hard grinding slog. Relentless as it was beautiful, It was a struggle to just keep running, walking would have been just as hard, I dropped to a slow jog and just kept plodding away. The course then took a diversion of the broad bridleway,onto a single track footpath that was steep, rocky, root strewn, and full of twists and turns. I couldn't maintain my slow jog and had to slow down to walking pace for the more technical sections.

This path soon levelled out and I could get on with some running, this was only a short run before tackling some gnarly steps back to the comfort of the wide trail path. Even though I was back on a wide flat trail, my legs and lungs were suffering and I was struggling to keep up my usual pace. The flat section wasn't any respite from the pain and effort required to keep running. The next section of uphill was steep and the trail underfoot was broken and loose. It was just too hard to keep running. But even walking was painful on the legs and didn't give a chance to catch my breath or lower my heart rate.

After passing though a gate the views and terrain changed to bleak moorland above the tree-line. The path was narrow and littered with large boulders. It was now a huge challenge to pick a route that would keep me from twisting an ankle and going arse over tit. This part of the course was shared with runners coming back down from the trig point, which marked the highest part of the course. They seemed to be cruising down the hill with speed and grace, whilst I was bumbling and bouncing from boulder to boulder. But after I looped round the trig point I knew it was DOWN HILL ALL THE WAY!

This gave me a great boost and gravity was finally on my side. There was no time to take in the views or even lift my head up. To go fast down the path took so much concentration. Picking a route on and over the rocks was incredibly challenging and all-encompassing. The added distraction and challenge to avoid bumping into runners climbing up to the turning point exacerbated the task in hand. Soon enough the path split and it was back to one way traffic. As I descended back below the tree line, the terrain settled back into less treacherous beautiful, woodland paths and wide farmers tracks.

It wasn't long before I was back on the high peak trail. The footing was smooth, firm, and now the incline was in my favour. I was picking up speed and focussing as hard as possible on my running technique and form. Remembering all that advice I had read about running downhill. This all went out the window as I passed a runner in red shirt on the left as a gentleman from Wirksworth running club past him on the right. We ran shoulder to shoulder after passing Monsieur Rouge and he was running bloody fast, but I wasn't about to let him cruise past me. I stopped thinking about leaning into the hill at the ankles, not over stretching and not slapping the ground with my feet. Instead I was in full 'fuck it' mode.

I matched the Wirksworth runner stride for stride, and ran in perfect unison, we soon gathered a very impressive amount of momentum and caught up with another runner. He, incredibly, put on and extra burst and slipped past the runner. I managed to stick to his shoulder and then regain our synchronised cadence after passing the other runner. Running downhill should be fun and a chance to ease off. But now I was engaged in an epic downhill dogfight, and was really struggling. We approached another runner but it was my turn to make he first move and burst past. The Wirksworth runner returned the favour, slipstreaming and then re-syncing at my shoulder. With only 100 metres of downhill left my core muscles were on fire, I was breathing heavily and pretty much emptied the tank.

As we hit the bottom of the hill and reached the final flat section, the gentleman from Wirksworth carried on with his amazing pace, but I was exhusthed. I've walked in races, I've ran through the overwhelming desire to walk in races. But I have never wanted to walk or stop and get my breath back after running downhill, before moving on to a pancake flat section! But this race was making me hurt in ways other races haven't. I plodded on at a slow steady pace and didn't give into the desire to walk.

On any other day this final kilometre would be an amazing experience. Running alongside a glassy flat canal flanked with beautiful trees. The evening sunlight dancing through the leaves and boucing of the water. Running through the Derwent valley towards the birth place of the industrial revolution should be an incredible run. But today after an epic climb and descent, this final flat section was just a drag. A painful, demoralising, trudge. JUST END! HOW MUCH FURTHER? Even when you can see the incredible Arkwright's mill and Willersly Castle the pain just doesn't abate. You even pass the finish line before doubling back 50 metres to finally cross the line.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVED this race. The challenge, the atmosphere, the terrain, the views, even the pain were all what made this such a great event. It took a couple of hours, a pint of beer and a very nice single malt whiskey before I felt normal again.

Strava:

Thanks to:
Matlock Running Club for hosting the event - www.matlockac.org.uk/
The Derby Runner for supporting the event - http://www.derbyrunner.com/

Race report - The Hairy Helmet - 12th June 2015

This report will have no twists, no shocks and definitely no surprises. I LOVE this race. No, I LOVE everything about this event. The ethos, the atmosphere the motivation, the spirit and all the untangable awesomeness that happens around this event

The event team, are so incredible and passionate about their local community, they invite all the local running clubs, local businesses, and communities to put together a team of four runners for this 2 and a bit mile relay race. The sponsors are the local brewery, the local knife maker, the local running shop, the local health care centre, a local fashion outlet, oh and a popcorn manufacturer from miles and miles away. They support the local cricket club, and choose a local hospice to give all the proceeds to.

I feel I've already over hyped this event, but I haven't even started. I haven't even given you the greatest part of this event. I did say there would be no surprises, but I need to tease you in for a boom-bash-bish finale too, and this is a real doosie. I would normally run for team derby runner at local, non obstacle related, races. But hairy helmet is a family race. My team is my sister, me, and my two stepsons, Izaak and Rudi. Rudi had to miss out this year due to being out of the country on a French exchange. Luckily a mate stood in for Rudi and we had a full team ready to roll.

When you arrive on site the meadow is buzzing with people eating burgers and hot dogs, chatting, warming up, talking tactics, and pinning race numbers on. It's does take long to before you immerse yourself into a conversation about pace, overtaking opportunities and baton change overs. However it wasn't long before the start and everyone was gathering at the start line. The pack was hilarious, with people politely, and sometimes humorously impolitely, adjusting there position in the pact to reflect there intended position.

'Whoa, what are you doing here? get to the front with the rest of the Kenyans'
'Oi, asthma boy! Get ya' sen behind us, you'll only slow us down'
'Don't mind you being behind me, but just don't run over the top me at the first corner'

The air horn blasted, and drowned out all the jibes and jeering, I was sitting on the outside, and quite near the back of the pack, so I made a 50 metre sprint round the outside looking for open space, and a clear path. The hairy helmet course has hairpins, hills, grass, tarmac, gravel paths and muddy paths, so you never have the chance to get into a rhythm, or settle in. You never pick up a running buddy, as everyone has strengths and weaknesses and you loose and gain places with every turn, or change in gradient or terrain.

2.2 miles is such a hard distance, too far too go all out, too short to try and be clever with negative splits and intricate pacing. 2.2 miles is 'go as fast as you can until it hurts, and then try and ignore the pain and taste of blood in your mouth, and then try for a sprint finish without throwing up'. It's not a classic tactic you read about in Steve Cram's autobiography, but it is familiar tactic to most hairy helmet entrants.

Once I had negotiated the 2 miles, and just had the final meadow loop and handover to complete. I was feeling terrible, everything hurt, but you have to finish strong in front of the crowds and fellow runners. Luckily Izaak was in bright orange, and easy to spot in the exchange area, I passed the baton on and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Done. I can now relax and watch other people's suffering from the comfort of my grass lined boudoir.

As promised earlier on, here is that ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong finale. Free beer. Yup a beer token for every member of the team. Forget protein shakes, chocolate milk, or steamed fish and bagels, a nice drop of real ale is just what you need to recover after a 2 and bit mile race. Oh wait, Izaak is only 16, better be a responsible parent and drink his beer too. Along with the, 'hey Andy, I've got to shoot off, do you want my token?'

You know it's a GREAT race when the next morning your hangover is worse than your DOMS.

Huge thanks to:

Detwent Runners for providing so many Marshalls - www.derwentrunners.co.uk/
The Derby Runner - www.derbyrunner.com/

Port;ebay popcorn -  www.portlebaypopcorn.com/

Canopy - www.canopyonline.co.uk/

Blok Knives - www.blok-knives.co.uk/

Derventio Brewry - www.derventiobrewery.co.uk/

Central Helth - www.centralhealth.org.uk/

Hide Burger - www.hideburgerbar.co.uk/
Fluid Ideas - /www.fluid-ideas.co.uk/

Darley Abbey Construction -
and the charity of choice, Rainbows Hospice - www.rainbows.co.uk/

Strava:

Kit:

Shoes: Inov-8 303 Ultras

Socks: Quechua running socks

Shorts: Nike Dry Fit

Top: Ron Hills / Team Derby Runner Running vest

Watch: Polar RC3 GPS

Race Report - Ramathon 2015 - 7th June 2015

Today was all about the battles!

I have a long standing grudge match with a good friend and fellow runner, Rob. He very generously paced me around the course last year, until the final 400m where I managed to out sprint him. Rob could have easily left me for dead at the 9 mile mark last year but dragged me on for those final 4 miles. Recently Rob changed running clubs (Dirty Splitter) so I've been keeping an eye on his Facebook and Strava posts in the weeks coming up to Ramathon, and he has been getting quicker and really putting the miles in. But he had unusually poor performance at a 10k just a week before the big day, so it wasn't clear how he would perform here.

The day before I had raced at an obstacle race, which was pretty tough on the body. I also had a couple of glasses of wine, and a BBQ in the evening, coupled with a bad nights sleep due to a whining dog and restless baby. I wasn't confident of a good time or winning the grudge match.

It was a 4 Weetabix breakfast, with some extra fruit; and lots of water for breakfast, before heading off to event. Team Derby Runner had borrowed Zibrant's canteen area for the day, which meant we had close parking, bag storage and somewhere to prepare. With about 15 minutes to go, we headed off to the start line and ran into Rob and we joked about times, niggles and all the usual banter. Rob is now running for Derwent Runners and it was odd seeing him in his new colours, but it all helps maintain our healthy competition. Rob admitted he wasn't on top running form today, and wasn't expecting a quick time today, which was a huge shame, as it would have been great to have him at full strength to battle against.

Rob and I ran shoulder to shoulder for the first couple of kilometres at the usual 'too fast, too early' pace, before rob decided to slow down to a pace he knew he would maintain. I was feeling bullish and strong so kept at my 'unlikely' pace and pushed on. It was always niggling at me that I had gone out too quick and Rob would come cruising past in a few miles. But thing were going well. At the first water station at roughly the three mile mark I took a few sips and carried on moving. The road straighten out for a while now and I could see a team mate out in front. Richard is another really strong runner and had gone off like a rocket and was surprised to see that I was making gains on him. It took me another 2 miles and an energy gel before I reached his shoulder.

"Make sure you beat Rob too" were my final words to Richard as I pushed on looking for my next target. There was another Derwent Runner vest in a pack of runners about 50 metres ahead, so he was my next mission. As I slowly gained on the pack a runner from Wolves and Bilston club was also gaining on them. He was a tall, broad shouldered guy, and was making great progress through the pack or runners that included the unknown Derwent Runner. This W&B runner never stayed with other runners, or packs of runners he just kept picking them off and passing them. This is just the motivation I needed and stuck with him as we past half mark. At the 2nd water station I over took my running buddy to take my turn in front, but he wasn't having any of that and stepped it up and pushed past me.

This is the way it was for next few miles, I just kept on his shoulder as much as possible, and at mile 9 I was still feeling strong, and keeping up my 'maybe I can' pace. Last year mile 9 was where I could have quite happily stopped and walked, so it was a massive psychological win to still be strong at this point, this year. At Mile 10, the amazing Mark was marshalling, and handed me an ice pop! What could be better at this point than a sugar filled, chemical cocktail, frozen in ice! This boost and buzz was doubled when we entered the wooded area of Elvaston castle, The beautiful woodlands just makes running an absolute pleasure! With a mile to go before the 3rd water station I spotted another friend From Derwent Runners. Nick! Nick had cruised past me in the last mile, at the final Derby Runner cross country race of the season. He left me for dead, I had forgotten to congratulate him for having such a great race that day (through gritted teeth of jealousy), so I was stoked that I was gaining ground on him today.

I had my second gel as I went through the 3rd water station. This was the caffeine one too! I must thank my sister, Sheena, as she had a stack of spare gels in her car and I hadn't brought any with me. A very friendly chap from Belper running club gave me predicted finishing time, pace notes and even encouraged me to push in front of him to take the racing line for the upcoming corner. Was a star! I didn't have the heart to let him know that I only work in kilometres and would need to crack open a spreadsheet to start making the translations from miles to kilometres. I couldn't stop and talk numbers as my 'offensive blocker' from Wolves and Bilston was still cutting a path through runners that I had to follow.

As we left the grounds of Elvaston castle a very cheerful man caught up with me and we chatted about the little battles you imagine while racing, and I pointed out my target runner and continued on in race mode. I saw the last 5k on the river path as 'home stretch', knowing that come rain or shine I would finish the race and would probably know weather I would win the grudge match with rob by this point. The pressure was off but the the headwinds were certainly on. I though that the gentleman from Wolves and Bilston had done enough work in front and so I decided to push hard past him and let him draft off me for the closing miles. No sooner had I passed this chap, I had picked out my next target. The red and white harlequin shirt of a Massey Runner, stood out in sea of plain, hopped and sashed running vests, and he too was cutting his way through runners. I tried to keep up with him and and drifted to and from his shoulder until mile 12 where I managed to pass him.

Now I had picked up a shadow in a brown HAVAK vest and we exchanged positions for while but with about half a mile to go there was pack of 4 people to pass, so I put on a burst of speed and skipped clumsily through them all. I must apologise if I nudged people here, I certainly didn't meant be aggressive or impatient, I just wasn't very light of foot at this point. So now with about half a mile left to run, and for the first time in the entire race there were no target runners in front of me. For the first time in 12 and a bit miles I had no one to focus on chasing down. This felt really weird. Right this means its hammer time! Start emptying the tank, and push as hard as possible for final few minutes and see if I can hunt some more runners down.

As I came off the river path a small boy was very impressively calling out positions
"201"
what!? you mean there's a chance I can get in the top 200! forget GPS! Forget Stava! Forget chip timing! its all about what this little kid just told me! a bunch of 3 runners are out in front and reachable, so put my head down and attack, as I get past them I see the very familiar face of Darley Parkrun's race director, Ian. A flyby high five and a shout from Ian, and its just like Saturday morning, and sprint finish time. The burn is really kicking in as I run along side the iPro stadium, thoughts are flying round my head
'you've gone too early'
'you're going to blow out'
'you're going to throw up'

As I rounded the penultimate corner the crowds have really swelled, and they are cheering, and shouting encouragement. Kids hold out there hands for high fives, so I swing wide to reciprocate the gesture, which distracts me from the pain, Right enough fun, time for the final corner, and with the finish line now in sight it's time for BEAST mode. Grunting and gurning I managed to overtake one extra runner in the final 20 metres, but keep kicking all the way to the line to make sure I hold on to this position.

Crossing the line I find the nearest barrier to collapse on before being cheered by fellow team mate, Will, who was volunteering, at the medal and banana hand out area. What an awesome race, everything came together really nicely for me, being able to spot friends and find people going at the right pace for me draft, chase and pass was just what I needed to get into 'race' mode. This is why I love racing, for me it's not about the bling or times, its about getting my competitive fix, it's about about pushing as hard as I, even if it is just to over take one person, or stick to someone's shoulder for as long as possible. I hung around the finish line to thank the guy from Wolves and Bilston and a few other people that had unknowingly helped me round the course. Rob hadn't had a great race, hampered by a churning stomach and 2 minute pee stop. So it turns out I only won this grudge match because Rob had 2 cups of tea in the morning and I had forgotten all about my breakfast coffee, and left it sitting on the Nespresso machine that morning

Result:
189th 1:32:23 (the little kid was about right)

Huge thanks to:
All the staff and volunteers involved with Ramathon - www.ramathon.co.uk
Team Derby Runner for all the support on race day - http://teamderbyrunner.co.uk/
The Derby Runner for all the advice and kit over the years - http://www.derbyrunner.com/
Zibrant for letting us use their facilities - www.zibrant.com/
Sarah and Richard for the photos, and epic imagery for the one I stole

Strava:



Kit:
Shoes: Brooks Cadence
Socks: Quechua
Shorts: Nike Dry Fit
Top: TEAM DERBY RUNNER vest
Watch: Polar RC3 GPS
Gels: SiS x 2
Accessories: seemless head scarf worn on wrist used as a sweat band and to stash gels

People - Steve Saunders - You never know who you are running with.

I've met Steve at every cross country event I've been too and we run into each other at other local races and events too, we've always said hello and had a quick chat either before or after the race. One time we got chatting about the obstacle races I've done, and reported on this blog, and we then got chatting about what races he had entered. It was a impressive list of ultra's and endurance list. We realised that this chat would be better finished off in a pub over a couple of pints rather than in a muddy field where we where both tired and wet.

So one Sunday Steve and I met in his local pub in Heage and had a great evening talking about running, training, racing, and obligatory conversation when any two runners meet: trainer choices. Steve had very kindly written a few pages of notes of his journey to running ultras and coaching. In summery Steve was a good running and football player at school. But left school and sport behind to pursue a more rock and roll life, touring around Europe and the UK with his band.

"Then the light came on I was on a diet of 5 pints of larger a night about 40 fags, time for change. I started Running"

Steve entered his local marathon, the Humber Bridge marathon and despite his lack of training at marathon distance still managed a time of 3h33m, and much to his embarrassment, finished the race and smoked a cigarette his mum had presented him with at the finish line!

"As soon as I finished my mother lit up a cigarette for me and like a fool I smoked it"

After completing his local marathon, Steve decided to enter a triathlon, but back then it was triathlon of running, cycling and race walking rather than the usual disciplines of swimming, cycling and running. To train for the race walking section Steve enter the Humberstone half marathon and race walk the course. Starting from the back, he set off, after being attacked by a Jack Russell dog. The Race check points all waited for Steve to walk through, as he was at the very tail of the race. He focused on technique and built up a decent pace which brought him in sight of the tail runners, that had gone out too quickly and now struggling to keep up the pace. With chaffed, bruised and bloody inner thighs caused from the unfamiliar race walking technique, Steve finished the course in an impressive 2h10m.

Unfortunately Steve's training didn't help his triathlon aspirations, as a groin injury prevented him for making the start line, Steve then took a break from running for some 25 years, while he built up his lorry driving business in Europe, During this time his fitness levels dropped, his smoking increased.

In 2008, back in the working UK, Steve decided to get back into shape and started cycle the 15miles to work and 15 miles back again and packing in smoking too. Steve like most runners need targets to motivate us to train, Steve entered the Nottingham 50 mile bike ride, and came home in around 3 hours. Happy that he still had 'it', he joined Ripley Running club and got back into training and entering local running races. promising him self to stick to races of a maximum distance of 10 kilometres, but this was a promise Steve was never going to keep.

"Promising my self not to train further than 10k racing. My furthest race to date is 135 miles."

Steve moved towards trail and off road running, and really took to the longer distance events, and soon built up a very impressive back catalogue of races and events, including:

Tipton track 6 hour race - Coming 3rd covering a distance of 37.5 miles
Cannock Forest - 2nd covering 35+ miles on hilly terrain
Boston 6 Hours - Just a few yards shy of 40 miles
3 x Humber Bridge 12 Hour challenge - Best effort was 63.25 miles
Coventry $0 mile event
Around Rotherham 50 miles - 9h26m
4 x Wilmot Wander 30 miles
Gloucester 50k - 5h40m
Yomp Mountain challenge (Cumbria)
The 3 Rings of  Shap - 63 Miles Self Navigation
The Hard Moors
Several LDWA Events too (Long Distance Walkers Association)

Here is a short clip of Steve finishing his 100 mile run in 24hr 03mins in2014 at the Equinox 24 event



Having conquered his fair share of endurance events, Steve looked towards his next challenge and the natural progression was towards multi-day events.Steve entered the Ring of Fire event which is a 3 day, 135 mile race along he coastline of Anglesey, and attracts a far few foreign entrants due to the toughness and prestige of the event.

Day one was started off by Prince William and Kate Middleton at 1pm, and was 'warm up' run of 36 miles, which meant a pretty late finish. There are no home comforts on the Ring of Fire, and entrants have to doss down in the village hall all together. With late arrivals, and all the unpleasant noises that are released from tired bodies, Steve was never going to get a decent nights sleep.

Day two greats you at 4:30 am with a loud rendition of Jonny Cash's Ring of Fire to wake you up and give you time to pack, prepare and fuel up ready for a 6am start. Today Steve was joined in the run by 2 guys from Wigan, who didn't know each other, the younger of the 2 had never ran more than 19 miles before embarking on this ultra adventure, but had his family in support meeting him at way points with food and drinks which they generously shared with Steve too. In the evening around 10pm the small group managed to get themselves lost in the dark in some woods, luckily the young lad had a GPS with him that helped navigate their way out of the woods and back on course. Once they made it to the second overnight stop, The other gentleman from Wigan thanked Steve for his support over the 66 miles and told him he would be dropping out at this point and called his daughter, so she could drive from Wigan to Anglesey to pick him up. Tired from a long day's running and navigating Steve nearly looses his cool with a team from Germany that are being rather noisy.

Day three welcomes you in much the same way as day 2

0430 Prompt! Jonny Cash Ring of Fire blasting out again, how I hate that song.

Steve was up, fuelled and back in running gear ready for the 6am start and the final 33 mile section. In his eagerness Steve found him self leading the first 5 miles of the day, but soon backed off as he isn't a fan of people 'running off' him. Unfortunately the young man from Wigan was no were to be found during the third day, and Steve assumed he had overslept and missed the start of day 3. The end of the 33 mile stage has a cruel twist, taking the runners over the Holy Head Mountain. Steve has the resolve to finish what he starts and even manages a sprint finish to complete 135 miles of running over three days in a very impressive 35 hours.

Only half the 90 starters finished as it is so hard, my first attempt but failure was not an option.

The young man from Wigan was waiting at the finish to clap in the runners, perched on crutches, he had spent the night in hospital with acute blistering on his feet and very painful shin splints. That young man learnt a hard lesson over those 2 days. Steve thinks he only had about 2.5 to 3 hours sleep over those 3 days and clocked up 135 miles over 35 hours of running. That more than most of us put in, in a month!

We all were treated like superstars at the finish, people couldn't believe I had run around the coast of Anglesey at my age

It has been a great pleasure catching up with Steve and hearing all his running stories, and it is amazing to think that when you look around, at the other runners at races, or at Parkrun, or just passing them on the trails, you have no idea what there story is or what they have accomplished.