Wednesday 5 August 2015

When you just don't want to run any more

It’s fair to say that I’ve never enjoyed “training” and in fact, I do very, very little of it - I often struggle to go running during the working week and when I do go out, my goal is usually just measured in miles. Tempo runs, hill repeats, fartlek...they're all on that list of things I should be doing but don't, like stretching and strength work. To be honest my running life is really just about constantly feeling guilty about not going for a run and lurching miraculously from race to race.
 
Having just gone through my spreadsheet where I record the runs I do manage, I realise I do even less than I had thought. From January this year, I see that between Monday and Friday, although some weeks I ran three or four times, on most weeks I ran much less or not at all. On average I clocked up just one run, completing an average distance of 5 miles. When you think that my weekly average since January is 38 mpw, with some weeks at zero miles and my three biggest weeks at over 100 miles, you can see how inconsistent my training is! As a comparison, last year my Monday to Friday average was 1.4 runs, with an average distance of 10 miles over the 5 days, and a weekly average of 32 mpw, with only one week at over 100 miles.
 
Anyway, enough of the stats. This last couple of weeks things have got even worse. Not only have I struggled during the week, I also totally lost interest in running on Saturday and Sunday. Since the emotional high of my fantastic weekend at the Saffron Trail ultra, I ran once in two weeks, and I even missed a marathon I had scheduled.
 
I just could not be bothered. I ate copious amounts of junk food too - not sure I've ever eaten so much chocolate in a week, and I felt lethargic and miserable. As much as I told myself, and my husband, and twitter, that I really had to go for a run, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t drag myself out of bed in the morning, and when I got home from work I was welded to the sofa. “But I must go for a run, I must go for a run”, I kept telling myself and I thought about how I was failing. Yes, FAILURE. It’s probably the thing that scares me the most. All in all, I was going through a period of what I think we generally refer to as a total loss of mojo.
 
I’d finish off every day adjusting my spreadsheet to record another missed run, feeling guilty and perplexed. Was I going to ever run again? Did I care if I wasn’t? I’ve just booked to have a big tattoo done, to symbolise my running...should I cancel it? I have a 100km booked on 15th August that I've been looking forward to all year. Would I even turn up, and if I did, would I crash and burn half way through as a result of my total lack of mileage? I wasn't sure what was going on in my head but I found it very confusing.
 
I got lots of support and some helpful advice from twitter though.  The best advice was to just let it go - stop worrying, stop feeling guilty, stop looking at the training plan. If it's meant to be, one day I’d just want to go for a run. There was also the advice to just go for a walk – find a great trail and get outside.
 
So, on Saturday, the day I DNS’ed my marathon, I decided to stop thinking about running. I let go of the guilt, and accepted that I didn’t want to run, and that that was OK. No pressure. We went to a beer festival instead and on Sunday, I took the dog for a walk. Didn’t wear my trainers, just my Merrell sandals. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon and I decided to head for a footpath sign that I’d seen recently while in the car, and follow it to wherever it went. Turns out, it led to a beautiful cross country trail.

We crossed crop and sheep fields, meadows and walked through shady woodland – all in the space of just a few miles - and it really reminded me how very lovely it is to be outside. Chewie was bounding around and clearly enjoying himself…after a while I decided to join him as he ran.
 
We ran quite a bit actually. According to my Fitbit, my heart rate was elevated enough for me to think I probably ran for about 20 minutes. In my sandals, my denim shorts and t-shirt…no expectations, no blisters to worry about, no lycra to feel self-conscious in, just running for the love of the feeling of it. Relaxed, the sun shining, my heart pounding, the rush of chemicals through my brain that said, actually this is amazing. Why doesn’t every one get out and do this? The freedom. The fun of it! We didn’t see another soul and I was so happy.
 
On Monday night after work, after dinner, we were sat on the sofa again, watching TV again.
 
I decided to go and get changed. Instead of putting on the usual lounging around clothes, I opened one of my many drawers stuffed with running kit. Then I found some running socks. I pulled on my trainers. Without having thought about it at all, just concentrating on the easy steps of putting on my gear, I found myself standing by an open front door at 10.30pm. I still didn’t particularly want to go for a dull pavement run, but it just felt like the right thing to do. I was all ready so might as well go out and see what happened - with a nudge in the back from Francis, I was gone.
 
I did 6.5 miles, and I went quickly. Faster (for the first few miles at least) than I’ve run in a long time. As I hadn't planned to go out, I hadn't charged up my watch, so don't know how what my pace was, but I was so pleased with myself for having done it, and felt so happy that my legs hadn’t turned to mush after a fortnight off. It was exhilarating being out in the dark.
 
Yesterday, as soon as I got home from work, I went out again. This time, I decided to take advantage of the day light, and I took another new trail I’d discovered on the viewranger app, which started just a mile from the house. It linked up with the path I’d found on Sunday and I was out again in the fields asking myself why on earth I’ve put up with 10pm pavement runs for so long when the beautiful countryside is right on my doorstep! It was a beautiful evening and I loved it…totally motivating.
 
So there we go. It seems I’m back! We're only on Wednesday and I've already done more than twice my Monday to Friday average mileage, and am planning to go out again this evening. Looking forward to it even. So what was the trick? How did I rediscover my mojo? I don't really know to be honest.
 
The advice that resonated most was that it was ok if I didn't want to run. That I could allow myself not to, that I could choose. I think I'm starting to realise there's been quite a lot of pressure over the last few months - there was so much scrutiny over my runs at TP100 and GUCR that I somehow feel I have to keep upping my game in some way. But I don't.
 
I have nothing to prove. I must stop feeling permanently guilty and just remember why I love to run.
  
"I run to see how far I can go...
I run because if I didn’t, I’d be sluggish and glum and spend too much time on the couch. 
I run to breathe the fresh air. I run to explore. I run to escape the ordinary...
I run for the finish line and to savor the trip along the way."

 - Dean Karnazes -

 

 
 
 

Tuesday 28 July 2015

The best birthday present

It's becoming a bit of a tradition that to celebrate my birthday, I sign up for a race on the closest weekend. This year was going to be the most epic of all of my birthday events...I was going to take part in Ironman UK in Bolton which was being held on Sunday 19th July. It felt like fate - the race was actually on my birthday...and I was going to become an Ironman!!!

Unfortunately, although training started pretty well last year, once I started my new job in January, and started focusing on the GUCR, my three sport training really became a struggle, and before long, I knew Ironman wasn't likely...although I kept kidding myself until a couple of months before the big day. However, eventually I had to face facts - I just hadn't put in the training I needed, and if I turned up, it would be a very bad birthday!

So, I decided to sign up for a running event instead, and found the Saffron Trail ultra, a local Essex race, put on by my friends at Challenge Running. It was 70 miles, cross country and overnight...just my thing, and something I knew I would enjoy.

In the weeks coming up to the race, I did some recce runs to help familiarise myself with both the route, and the route instructions - some miles were on my own, some with fellow runners Nicki and Brian - which proved absolutely invaluable, and knowing the course, I was thoroughly looking forward to spending my birthday weekend doing something I love.

I had planned to get the train to the start line, down on the seafront in Southend, but Francis offered to drive me so he and Chewie were there to see me off which was very unusual but perfect - the benefit of a race that doesn't start until 6pm in the evening! It was a lovely and low key. With a few late drop-outs, and I think some people put off from signing up because last year's race had sounded pretty tough - there were just 17 runners getting ready for the race and a few family members. Lindley and Maxine were doing kit check, answering questions and making sure everyone had their trackers set up.  There were no drop bags, so as well as mandatory kit, I also had an extra headtorch and loads of food. No gels though - I've decided they just don't work for me on the long runs.

We were sent on our way at 6pm. Weather was gorgeous, and the first mile or so was busy with families, cyclists, dogs and cars for us to find our way around. A few people asked what we were doing. "Running 70 miles to Saffron Walden" - I love the look on their faces when you tell them you're doing something they just don't believe!

We were soon on a trail path though, but it didn't take long for the other runners to disappear off in front of me - the last I saw of the main group, they were running up a steep hill to Hadleigh Castle. Running up hills, unless you're incredibly fit, is just something I don't understand and I felt I'd misjudged how fast everyone else was going to be...just a couple of miles in and I was second to last bar the sweepers! Although I was a bit shocked at the pace, I felt relaxed, and knew I was going to have a lovely time - even if I was going to be last, I was still going to enjoy myself.

Having recce'd the route was a great confidence booster - everything looking familiar just made such a difference, and I soon settled into a comfortable pace and was plugged into my ipod. The weather was perfect, and it didn't take long before I found myself at the first checkpoint. I'd overtaken Nicki by this point, but still hadn't seen any of the other runners since those first couple of miles!

I headed on, and don't really remember details of the race - the route was lovely, with trail through woodland, across towns and villages, crop fields and along farm tracks. Generally pretty flat but with enough hills to provide ample walking opportunity, and the paths that had been terribly overgrown while I was out on my previous runs of the course all seemed to have been cut back so nothing was too difficult to get through. Obviously, I got scratched and stung by brambles and nettles, but that's to be expected and all part of the fun...

Photo from
https://instagram.com/edentheodorou_x/
I do remember running through Hullbridge as the sun was setting. The light across the River Crouch was beautiful and the sun became such a vibrant orange. I didn't stop to get a picture but have Googled this one to give you an idea...

Dusk fell just as I got to a main road, and I pulled my headtorch out but felt pretty vulnerable, and with the failing light knew it would difficult for drivers to see me. I wished I'd worn more reflective gear! Luckily, the road sections were all quite short, and after the next checkpoint, I was back on the trail and started to feel pretty good. It always takes me a while to get warmed up, but I love running in the dark (it feels like a bigger adventure) and I was very happy by now. I remember seeing bats swooping through the air. I started to think I could see lights in the distance (UFOs?) but realised it was headtorches from other runners up a hill. I wondered if some of the runners had gone off too fast and were now starting to lose their pace. Sure enough, I realised I was getting closer, and then as we came to the next field, I realised there were quite a few people. This was one field where the path wasn't cleared at all, so we had to go through the crops. Everyone in the group was walking, and I'm sorry to say the competitor in me realised that this would be a great opportunity to pass a number of them all at once, and it was a chance I should take. So I did...I carried on running through the field (high knees through the plants!), overtook them all, and put on a bit of speed for the next mile or so until I was confident I had cleared them. Again, I think it really helped that I knew where I was going.

Then I got lost.

I crossed a stile into a field full of sheep. I didn't want to startle them or unduly upset the flock, so decided to take a detour. Needless to say, I'm no ninja, and soon there seemed to be hundreds of pairs of eyes reflected in my torchlight, before they all decided to run away from me. Unfortunately, by then I had totally lost my way across the field, and couldn't work out where the path was, or where the gate was to get out of the field on the other side. I was utterly disoriented, and just ended up running around the field, and then nearly ended up in a lake! In the dark it didn't look like water, just a dark area that I though was caused by shadow from the trees above (although thinking about it, there wasn't really any moon, so shadow from what?!). Anyway, I managed to stop myself before I went for a swim, but was ready to despair, when I saw those familiar headtorches heading across the field. The group I'd passed had caught me up.

Although I was a bit annoyed at having wasted my efforts in getting past them earlier, I was thankful that they were there, as the path was obviously in a totally different direction, and I could have been wandering around in that field until the sun rose!

I followed their lights, and found the path, the stile over the fence, and was eventually back on my way. Another checkpoint was soon after this, and I arrived here just after the girl who was running as 1st Lady, and so decided this would be my opportunity to get back into the position I wanted. However...first...we had the serious business of refuelling, and as I had my bottles refilled by the lovely Hazel, and sampled some of the brilliant variety of snacks that we had at every check point, another volunteer informed me that it was just after midnight...that meant it was my birthday, and so I was treated to a rendition of Happy Birthday. I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather have been! It was lovely.

I quickly sorted myself out though, and headed off before the rest of the group, anxious to re-establish myself as 1st Lady.

Along the next section, is a field that I remembered from when I recce'd the course, that had lots of cows and calves in - we'd had to clamber over a barbed wire fence as they were all sat around the gate. After the sheep field debacle, I checked the map, which Lindley prints on the back of the route instructions, and decided to take a detour around the field, sticking to the road instead. It seemed slightly longer, but I didn't want to be dealing with cows in the dark!

Soon enough, after another detour from the route I'd recce'd, this time due to construction work, I was in Chelmsford. I'd been dreading this - it was about 1:30am with drunk people spilling out of the clubs. I counted myself lucky that I got through town with only a couple of cat-calls...nothing too concerning...but running through the park where I felt particularly uncomfortable, I was so relieved to see a supporter out on the path. He had coffee, water and gels with him, but just to see a smiling face at that point was a real boost. He said he lived really close to the route, but I assume he was out there waiting for a friend. Anyway, it was very much appreciated!

On I went, and everything was fine - I was feeling pretty chirpy and amazed at how my body was holding together. The Achilles pain that I struggle with most days had totally dissipated at about 20 miles in, and I was very pleased that it hadn't returned and to be honest I felt better than I usually do.

I reached the checkpoint by Tilty Church and had got to that seemingly inevitable point of not wanting anything to eat but knowing I had to have something. They had cheese! Usually I carry Babybel but had forgotten to buy any and this was the perfect snack at that time. I refuelled well as we chatted.

Maxine told me I was only the second runner they'd seen. I was in 2nd place as well as being 1st Lady! I was very surprised - I must have been doing better than I thought - and when I left, I was very determined that I would not be caught. I felt strong, but found myself checking over my shoulder whenever I was taking a walking break to make sure I couldn't see any runners gaining on me. I got a bit paranoid!

It had tried to rain a bit a few times in the night, and this continued in the early morning, but aside from a 10 minute absolute downpour, there hadn't been anything too heavy. I'd had my coat out a couple of times, to protect everything in my race vest if nothing else, and even after the torrential shower, I dried off quickly.

So, things were going well. But unfortunately, this didn't last for long. I hadn't recce'd the last 10 miles or so. I got lost again. VERY LOST.

So lost, that after endless wandering around trying to find a bridge, I waded through an ankle deep stream, with even deeper mud, hauled myself up over the other side of the steep bank, only to have to climb over a double layered barb wire fence, to get into a field on the other side. And I still wasn't any the wiser as to where I should go. In trying to work out it out, I managed to drain my phone battery and then realised I'd left my portable battery pack in my kit bag :( In the end I gave up trying to find the right way, and headed towards buildings, and just kept moving until I found a found a road. I started running in one direction, but on checking the map, quickly decided I was going the wrong way and started running along the road in the other direction. I wasn't entirely confident though, and when I saw a cyclist, I flagged her down, and asked if she knew where on the map we were. She only knew the road we were on, and the direction she was headed, but that was enough, and it confirmed that I was going to right way - I was soon able to follow the map to get back onto the Saffron Trail path. However, I was annoyed by this time, with myself for being so daft as to not being able to follow route instructions, with my shoes (the insole in one of my trainers had got rucked up from the dunking in the stream, and the water had also destroyed the adhesive on the velcro that was keeping my gaiter on the back of my shoe) and with the assumption that loads of runners would have passed me by now with all my wandering around and detouring! I wasn't happy!

On I went though, and managed to go the right way for the rest of the race. At the last checkpoint, I was greeted by friends Rosemary and Liz, singing Happy Birthday at me again. They were so positive and it was lovely to see them, although I was in a thoroughly bad mood at this stage. They cheered me up though, and gave me the good news that I was still ahead of the other runners. I could have stood around chatting with them for ages, but knew I had to keep going so on I went for the last stretch, just 4.5 miles to the finish.

I headed on, and, as is always the way, the last few miles seem to take forever. Eventually though I got to Saffron Walden, and randomly saw Maxine at the side of the road. I was walking but realised I must be really close to the end and so we ran together towards the finish. Again, totally low key, but perfect - Lindley gave me a trophy for 1st Lady, a prize courtesy of www.ultramarathonrunningstore.com/, my medal, and a chocolate birthday cake! I couldn't have asked for better birthday presents.

Although the field was very small, I was also incredibly pleased at coming 2nd overall.  I finished in 16hrs 28 minutes, and beat last year's women's course record by nearly four hours.

Manic after being given
chocolate cake
I got changed in a gazebo/tent they'd put up and sat around chatting until some of the other runners finished, and then Francis and Chewie turned up to collect me. We played with the dog for a bit in the sunshine before I started to get tired and realised I'd been up for over 26 hours, had run 70+ miles, and could probably do with some sleep, and so Francis drove me home.

Unfortunately, due to the very low numbers, it's unlikely that the race will be held again next year, or if it is, it'll be during the day instead of overnight. I would definitely sign up for a day race, as some of the views are stunning and obviously we missed them in the dark, but the challenge of night running is something I relish. If this was the last Saffron Trail overnight race, I'm very glad I got a chance to experience it!

A huge thank you to Lindley, Maxine, and all of the fabulously supportive volunteers. It was a brilliant race, a brilliant birthday. #loverunning






Tuesday 30 June 2015

The Great Barrow Challenge - 4in4

This weekend, I took part in the Great Barrow Challenge in Suffolk. It's a running festival, with people taking on half marathons, marathons, ultras, and combinations of the three, over a 10 day period. The most extreme option is running 10 x 50km ultras in 10 days! Each day's course is different to the last, but generally a mix of hilly trail and road, and you follow route instructions and signs to find your way. It's epic but very low key, and you can stay on site if you like, either in dorm rooms or camping. There's beer on tap, an ice bath paddling pool, and massages for not much money. It's my first time, but I think I'll be back!

I had signed up to do the quad - four marathons in four days - and although that sounds a bit epic in itself, with my 10in10 and recent ultra experience behind me, I was confident it wouldn't be an issue and wasn't really thinking about it too much. I'd had a high mileage weekend of 40 miles running along the Saffron Trail just a few days before the event started, and so it's fair to say it wasn't any sort of key race for me, and I was really doing it to see what all the fuss was about (lots of people talk about how good the GBC is) and to up my numbers for my 24 in 12 challenge. I wasn't staying over either, choosing instead to drive back home every evening to minimise the impact on home life.


However, it turns out, running marathons is actually pretty tough. I think with all the ultras, I'd forgotten...


Us at ZZ Top
I didn't help myself. I had a really busy day at work on Wednesday, and must have clocked up lots of miles on my feet walking around the campus, and then night before Day One, I was at a ZZ Top gig in Wembley with Francis! We had snacks for dinner, I had a couple of ciders, and although it was awesome, and I enjoyed it immensely, it also meant that I had a night on my feet and only a few hours sleep before the alarm went off at 4:30am the next day and I was getting ready for the first marathon.

I arrived early and the place was very quiet but got myself registered and ready. I was hoping for runs of under 5 hours each day (in the end, I don't think I managed a sub 5 once!) but through force of habit was still wearing my S-Lab race vest to carry water and "stuff". I knew a few other people who were running (some friends were taking on the ten marathons in ten days) and it was all very social at the start, as we chatted away. Soon though we were running. I quickly realised that this was going to be much harder than expected!




The start on day 1



It was very hot and sunny, and I struggled a bit with the directions (going marginally wrong in the first few miles, to be repeated later on, as I got lost). I felt incredibly tired, unfit and with the temperatures not helping matters, was nauseous and ended up walking much more than I had wanted to. The aid stations were less well stocked than I've been used to (I think I have been spoiled) and I was frequently frustrated with the limited food and drink available - both in quantity and variety! Everyone was very friendly though, and there was a really positive vibe that permeated every aspect of the GBC. The courses were all pretty enough too, but I found myself just looking at my feet most of the time, trying to grind out the finish!

In the end, of course, I got there. Awarded my medal, I jumped straight in the car and headed off for the hour and a half drive back home.

After day 3, trying to get Chewie to pose!
It was the same the next day. Up stupidly early, very hot and sunny, limited checkpoints, really struggled, felt sick and ate very little. But this time, I was even slower and walked even more, feeling very disappointed with how I was getting on and wishing that I had prepared a bit more seriously for running 106 miles in four days!

In an effort to try and improve things for day 3, I wore my Um Bongo vest, which is awesome and always gets comments. I ditched my iPod, the pressure of my Garmin and my race vest, and just ran carrying a bottle of water. I thought getting back to basics and just relaxing into the run would be a good idea. This worked to some extent, and I enjoyed having less pressure - and wearing my top made me smile - but as well as the nausea I was now starting to get intermittent, agonising, stomach cramps. I wasn't impressed, and was seriously considering a DNS for the 4th day...I just wasn't having a good time. I'm not sure I can remember having such miserable runs...

Day 4 dawned...and I overslept, massively. Subconsciously I think I'd decided I wasn't going to run, especially as my stomach issues had continued all evening and I'd not been able to eat much with my appetite having totally disappeared. I must have switched off the alarm without properly waking up. I suddenly came to at 6:30am...half an hour after I should have left. Bearing in mind it had been taking me an hour and a half to drive to the race, which started at 8am, this was not good news!

Without even considering my DNS plans, I threw on some clothes and fell into the car. No time (or desire) for breakfast, but grabbed babybel and a banana although didn't pick up a water bottle. Totally unprepared for running, I just drove as fast as I could (safely, legally etc etc :P) to try and make the start. I arrived at 7:45am, and had to drive through the crowd of runners who had assembled for the race briefing. But I made it, and was even in time for our group photo:

All the Day 4 runners

I had a much better run on the fourth day - it was cooler, and it rained for a while, which was such a welcome relief! I also spent much more of the day running with other people, which made a massive difference, and although I didn't have any water with me, the aid stations were close enough together (every four or five miles I think) that I was fine to get through. My nausea was still there, and the cramping in my stomach was getting worse...sometimes I found myself doubled over with the pain...but it was occasional, and I knew I could keep going. Most of the route was on road, and that made it easier, and there were lots of signs out on the course which made finding our way more straightforward, with only a few sections were we had to rely on guesswork! Eventually, I finished, and had run my fastest marathon of the quad, although only by a few minutes.

Over the four days, I was much slower than I had hoped for when I was going into the event, but they're tough courses, with lots of hills, a fair amount of trail, and to be honest, I probably ran the times I deserved - tired legs going into the event, no preparation, and, as it turns out, I was unwell. I went to the doctor yesterday about the stomach cramps - I either have gallstones, a stomach ulcer, or something unknown. I'm being booked in for an ultrasound and blood tests and given various drugs. We will have to wait and see what the outcome is.

But, thankfully, I made it through my 4 marathons in 4 days. I'm very pleased that my legs felt fine throughout, with no DOMS to worry about, and I didn't pick up any injury despite not using the massage or ice bath facilities. I also got some great medals, a lovely trophy, and some ridiculous tan lines as a result, and I've made and cemented some friendships which is probably the most important and valued outcome of all.

 

Monday 8 June 2015

Too much too soon

Yesterday I ran the Stour Valley Marathon, a race that I have been looking forward to all year since defering my 2014 entry. It rounded off a 46 mile week, my first of the Juneathon challenge.

The race didn't disappoint - it was an absolutely beautiful (hilly) course, and I enjoyed the challenge and adventure of it being self-navigation. It was a bit hot for me, and I found myself struggling with heavy legs - as it turns out I'm really not yet recovered from GUCR. In hindsight, I think two weeks was too soon for my first race.  I was shattered last night, fell asleep very early, and today I feel wiped out - I haven't been so weary after a marathon for years. It was also my second slowest marathon ever, but I'm still so glad I did it -  a wonderful day out in the countryside, and look at my amazing medal!

However, I've decided to withdraw from next week's race, my paired attempt at Endure 24 with my friend Emma. I feel awful for letting her down, but I have to be sensible - I have too many niggles that are on the verge of developing into something more serious, and I'm just too tired. I need more of a rest before I start running long again. I'll keep my training runs short over the next few weeks, and give my body a proper chance to recuperate.



Monday 1 June 2015

Setting new goals

Now I've stopped carrying my GUCR medal around with me and I've had a whole week off running to recover, today I start the next phase in my training, with a new focus on trying to cut down my weight, a commitment to take part in Juneathon (running every day in June) to get me back to some level of consistency, and a whole host of races to get ready for over the next few months. But it's not just about the training...I need to set myself some new goals.

As soon as I crossed the line at GUCR I knew that I wanted to have another go, but to be in a position to run it really well - to be fitter and better prepared, taking the lessons I had learnt from this year's race. However, I've decided that I want to try some more long events, and so as well as going into the ballot for GUCR when it opens later in the year, and probably entering TP100 again, and possibly the South Downs Way 100, I have decided to step it up.

I'm going to apply for a place in one of Mark Cockbain's infamous events, the Viking Way Ultra.

  • 147 miles, non-stop, self navigation.
  • From the Humber Bridge in North Lincolnshire to Oakham in Rutland.
  • 2,295m of ascent.
  • 40 hour cut off, with additional cut offs at 50 and 100 miles.
  • Checkpoints with basic provisions are every 15 - 20 miles.
  • No crews or pacers are allowed.

This sounds totally hardcore, and has a very high drop out rate (only 20% of starters finish) and Mimi Anderson is the only woman to have ever completed it, so far! However, there are a few women out on the ultra scene at the moment who seem to love the long stuff as much as I do, so I'm sure there would be quite a few of us next year...

But you know what? I really think this is something I can do. It feels ridiculous and strange to believe in myself so much, but that is the gift that GUCR has given me.

Now, I just have to see if Mark will accept my application. He has to decide if I'm experienced enough to give the race a go... Fingers crossed.


**Next day update:my application has been accepted! I'm paid up and on the entry list. Very excited :D