Hoka Highland Fling 2014

Hoka Highland Fling 2014

Overall time (chip): 9hr 53min 11s
Finish position: 92nd/556 Finishers (58DNF)
Category: 39th/215 Veteran males

 

 

I thought it was about time I captured a few of my thoughts about this ultra running lark and a few people cajoled me into writing these down.

 

Why run ultras?

 

People have all sorts of reasons for getting into running. Some are escaping (or replacing) an addiction, some have had a health scare, some come from other sports, to lose weight or any one of a thousand reasons why someone pulls on their trainers and goes for a run, and many of us rediscover why we used to love running everywhere as kids.  I’m often asked how long I’ve been running.  It's a difficult question.  Do they mean literally, or running competitively? Since I was about 2 is probably the answer to the first interpretation, and although I ran the London Marathon in 2002 and the odd half or mountain marathon, it has only been as part of a general love of sport and exercise rather than ‘being a runner’.  I just regarded myself as a ‘bloke who runs a bit’.  Far from ideally built, I used to be a half decent racing cyclist in my teens and early 20’s before joining the Forces.  I then bulked up to 13 and a half stone through weight training, martial arts, rugby and any other sport you can name before I had my personal running epiphany.

 

In Autumn 2012 I was walking on the West Highland Way between Drymen and Balmaha with a 25kg pack and boots when I happened upon a German lad who was also a handy triathlete.  He told me that people race the whole WHW in a day.  Nonsense thought I, and we retreated to the Oak Tree Inn for a couple of isotonic ales instead of continuing for the remaining 76 miles.  But the seed was sown and I Googled the race.  Bravely figuring that I could walk it within the cutoff time (35 hours) with a pack and in boots, I duly entered (I’ve always responded to a challenge).  Luckily the race director politely informed me that I was in no way experienced enough and I was rejected.  So I entered the Hoka Highland Fling in 2013.

 

Hoka Highland Fling 2013 (the problem)

 

That experience was painful but not too bad (I still believe I could’ve gone on to Fort William), but my longest ever training run prior was only 27 miles (21 miles that calendar year) and my total mileage was only about 400 for the year.  I paced it badly and generally had no idea what I was doing and was happy to finish but disappointed with a 12 hour plus finish and a very slow final section.  But it made me determined to become a better runner.  Why shouldn’t I be at least as good as I had been at bike racing? More specifically, was I to do about it?

 

The solution

 

This bit is important.  Especially for someone who wants to improve.  I refuse to accept I am at any given level in a sport.  I don’t regard hope as a strategy.  Whilst I know I will never be a world champion, there is always room for improvement.  Big improvement, not just a marginal PB. I firmly believe that anyone who can finish the Fling is capable of running it in under 10 hours, for example.  It is merely a factor of wanting it badly enough to put in the hard work and sacrifice.  Don't mistake me, running an ultra to finish requires a lot of training and commitment in itself, but with the correct preparation and level of sacrifice (that word is key, there is always a trade off), any able bodied person should be able to get within 15-20% of the fastest in their age group regardless of genetics and 'luck'.  On the subject of luck, I don't believe in it. You make your own luck.  Bad luck is an excuse for poor preparation or poor execution.  I always question everything.  Why do runners ‘get the miles in?’ like cyclists for example.  Both groups will mutter about the importance of it, but the fact is that if the winner runs at 6 minute mile pace, you need to be able to run that fast too if you want to win, and no amount of plodding will change that fact. Endless junk miles are an easy way to maximise training time and minimise results.  Why am I heavy footed when the guy in front moves like a Gazelle?’. Because i, like most adults had forgotten how to run! It's true.  And the funny thing is, you'd think that's the first thing a running club would teach a newcomer. But here's the thing, most people in running clubs don't know how to run properly either.  They all talk about upping the mileage, shaving a few seconds of a 10k PB, hill reps and doing a long weekend run, but no one mentions how to run.  Once I learnt the basics (and I'm still learning), it felt amazing.  I did a lot of reading into all the things that I felt had held me back, and each thing I read took me down another path.  I think this is what Stuart Mills calls his non-physical training.  I know that to reach your best as a runner takes some years as you condition the body to run big training mileages and to adapt technique, so this was just the beginning of what I hope will be a longer project.

 

So I worked on every aspect of performance.  Much like David Brailsford’s ‘marginal gains’ theory, I like the saying, “if you improve 100 things by 1% you will be 100% better”.  I looked at kit that would improve what I had (I like food to be accessible, not on my back for instance, or I won't bother eating).  I tried compression gear on muscles that suffered the most damage last time.  I started the transition to minimalist running, but also used Hoka’s for the hard packed descents and running on tired legs.  I engaged a technique coach for a couple of sessions, I analysed my gait and how to improve it.  I visited a sports therapist when I had a niggle to minimise time off training.  I trained harder with most sessions being hill reps, tempo, track work and intervals as well as doing more miles (one longer monthly run rather than fairly long weekly ones), but always listened to my body and took time off if needed and ignored mileage targets (which isn't easy to do). I stretched more and stretched more specifically, I did running related strengthening work to minimise injury and improve technique.  I ate better and lowered my carbohydrate intake and got down to 12 stone and less than 10% body fat.  I studied the race routes, split times and gauged myself against other people of different abilities so I knew what I could realistically aim for.  Many people were sceptical of my methods so the Fling was going to be the big test of my progress en-route to the Double Cateran in a couple of weeks time.

 

Pre-race

 

The tapering went well, and I drove up to Milngavie late on Friday, arriving at registration about 2130.  I felt an enormous rush of adrenaline as I walked into the Burnbrae Inn.  Last year I felt intimidated but this year I felt confident and strong.  I saw a few familiar faces and commented that if I didn’t perform well tomorrow it wasn’t through a lack of preparation.  I felt indestructible. My aspirations were no secret.  I’m not ashamed to state my goals, however lofty they are.  By doing that I feel I need to live up to them and that motivates me.  The DC is my ‘A’ race of the year so the bottom line was a comfortable finish at the Fling.  Secondly was a PB.  Realistically I expected about 10 hours 30 minutes without pushing too hard, but knew that if I did things right I could even go under 10 hours.  Not exceptional by any stretch, but a big leap in 12 months.

 

I stayed with a friend and fellow Flinger who lives close to the start, and after gossiping and eating cake we turned in at 2300, planning a 0400 start. Rain was forecast for Saturday and so it hammered on the conservatory (my bedroom) roof all night.  I wasn’t concerned, I had banked plenty of sleep that week and last year I only got 2 hours the night before.  I don’t mind the thought of rain as I think of it as an advantage for the more ‘robust’ build of runner (I refer you to Jon Steele’s amazing win at The Hill last December).  So after about 3 hours sleep punctuated with 3 pee stops (well hydrated all week with Nuun tabs), Al, Andrew and I sat down for an early breakfast and lots of chat about minimalist running (Andrew is the famous sandal-runner from RSA), Scotland and the race.  We were driven to the start, wrapped in a bin liner for disposable warmth, with a small amount of time to spare to get organised but minimise time on the feet in the cold and wet using unnecessary energy.  I said hello to a few people but I was getting quite focussed.  I have read a lot about elite endurance athletes mental games and one was focus.  I know ultra’s are quite sociable but despite a bit of good chat and bonhomie, I blocked a lot of distractions out.  This was true through a lot of the race.  Last year I chatted and ran and didn’t think too much about pace or form and when the (inevitable) pain came, I wasn’t really prepared for it.  This time I focussed well and when the pain came, I met it head on and had a strategy for running through it.  They talk of not trying to shut pain out but of working with it and it worked for me, I even relished it. The plan was to focus on pacing, cadence, technique and strong training sessions. I also had real belief in my training and pacing strategy, so in my head I was going to be stronger than those around me over the final third of the course. 

 

Milngavie to Drymen (12 miles - 1 hour 41 minutes 55 seconds)

 

I positioned myself in the tunnel and we were off.  I felt I should hold back behind slower runners but decided my pulse was low enough and started moving up the field, running lightly and easily, just thinking about my technique and rhythm and felt enormously content.  The air was damp and cool, the scenery pleasant and it felt easy.  As I had planned I let the brakes off on the descents, keeping the legs fresh by using a really high turnover.  I didn’t consider my pace until Jamie told me we were running at 9 hour pace at the Beech Tree.  I decided this was a little quick and let her move slowly ahead.  I was pleased to get a cheery ‘hello’ from Sandra and Ian at the Gartness crossing, then enjoyed a chat with an A&E doctor from Glasgow on the road section while feeding all the time.  I fed every 20 minutes or so and drank almost constantly, consuming over 4.5 litres of fluids.  At Drymen I opted to go through the bog to save a few metres (and it is the true course of the WHW), as I don’t mind wet feet although I did get mild blisters and trenchfoot.  It was nice to see a crowd at the top of the field but was mindful not to get carried away putting on a show of pace! Running through the CP I took a cup of water and kept going.  

 

Drymen to Rowardennan (15 miles - 2 hours 35 minutes 25 seconds)

 

It still felt easy and I passed a few runners on the climb up to Garabhan Forest.  Although it felt ok, I thought I had gone out too fast and would suffer later, but as I was on a 10 hour pace I thought I’d roll with it.  The rain had made the decent to Conic a bit slippery so I didn’t go mad, and took the climb steady, walking most of it.  At the top the sun began to warm my back through the damp mist and it fired life into me and I overtook a lot of people on the descent without putting any real strain on the quads.  I didn’t have a drop bag at Balmaha, but topped up the water.  I’d rather carry too much than run out.  I realise it weighs more, but this far outweighs the consequences of not having enough in my opinion.  The marshals as ever worked with military precision and a smile to boot. I recall praising a smiling Caroline MacKay on her WS100 run last year. She wrote a great blog on it too!

 

I’ll take this opportunity to say how wonderful the marshals all were and what a huge part they played in everyone’s day.  From George Reid offering me a beer (that he owes me) at the Beech Tree, to the kind chap who picked up my drink bottle to save me doing so at Beinglas, to the lady who took my rubbish for me (also Beinglas), and everyone else in between, a HUGE thank you.

 

It was quickly out of Balmaha along the trail which is a huge improvement to the car park and a brief intro to Sarah who had kindly arranged to have us climb up to Craggie’s Fort.  It was on the ups and downs of this stretch that I started to fatigue badly last year.  This time I was wary but stayed strong and paced it sensibly, dropping into Rowardennan still on sub 10 hour pace and ready for my first drop bag.  I need to be more organised with these.  I sat down sorting out the contents for 5 minutes both here and Beinglas and still managed to throw away my Nuun tablets by mistake.  I was also getting hot so I stripped off to remove my base layer.  Apologies to the ladies stood in front of me.  There was mention of it being a diet coke break, but they were only being kind!  

 

Rowardennan to Beinglas (14 miles – 3 hours 11 minutes, 36 seconds)

 

Out of Rowardennan I felt awful, my first and only real low of the race, but it went on and on until Inversnaid. This was a shame as it is my favourite bit of the course and I had planned to push on hard on this section. I felt nauseous, weak and wooden legged.  I walked the whole climb from Ptarmigan cottage and felt that my sub 10 hour ambitions were slipping away but tried to focus and come good on the descent.  The food was simply a bit heavy in my stomach. I was faster going downhill to Rowchoish than last year but the split times show that this leg was my relative slowest by some way.  Inversnaid was a nice boost and Sandra shouted at me to keep running so without a drop bag, I topped up the water and scurried off.  The gnarly bit was ok, just concentrating on foot placement which stopped me thinking negatively and stopped me pushing too hard as I did here last year.  Sadly I came across a pool of blood and shortly after, a lady who I had seen a few times was holding her chin and bleeding quite a bit.  A few of us stopped and someone called the rescue boat.  Noanie caught us and offered her buff as a bandage.  I suggested she should compress the wound and start moving towards Beinglas, not realising that it would have been painful as she had fractured her jaw.  Once clear of the technical section she said she was fine and waved us on and others accompanied her for a while.  We alerted the marshalls at Beinglas just in case they weren’t aware.  Anyway, Noanie has stormed off up to Dario’s post and I initially thought that was the last I’d see of her.  Then I switched into race mode, realised this is what the hill reps have been for and yomped up the climb munching shot blocs.  It turns out that these are my crack cocaine.  They supercharged me and I not only caught up but broke into a fair canter all the way to Beinglas, getting there 3 minutes ahead.  

 

Beinglas to Tyndrum (12 miles – 2 hours 24 minutes 28 seconds)

 

After another faff with my dropbag Noanie had left ahead of me so I set off chasing again.  We ran more or less together until Derrycarroch but not talking much other than cursing our legs with every swear word under the Sun.  I offered that we were both on for a safe PB.  She replied “of course we are you daft pr**k, we could’ve done that running backwards, we were sh**e last year”.  Call a spade a f**cking shovel!  Here she started cramping. It was a role reversal of last year where she passed me cramping at the same place. I offered some Hula Hoops and then plodded on.  I started feeling ok again and at the junction before the roller coaster was told I had and hour and 8 minutes to beat 10 hours and that I could do it.  Part of me wanted to hear that it wasn’t possible and I could ease back and save myself for the DC, but no, now I had to push.  Hard.  I barrelled down the descents in the forest and George had to stop me sprinting straight into the A82 at the bottom.  There were small knots of spectators saying 10 hours was on and I was also putting on a show.  I felt amazing now, powering along as if it was a swift 10 miler.  I overtook a couple of relay runners which felt nice, then caught a guy whose support car was driving alongside him after the wigwams.  I was breathing the diesel fumes which angered me.  He said I have 27 minutes to do 3 miles so with my new found anger I opened the afterburners.  It felt good passing several people on the run in.  I saluted the pipers, but instead of the lump in the throat and emotion of the finish, I still didn’t know if sub 10 was on or not so I went down the finishing straight like it was a track session.  A bit embarrassing when I found I had over 6 minutes to spare!  It was a pretty fast finish but I managed to give a few high 5’s as I ran down the red carpeted funnel to the finish.  I just wish my vision hadn’t been so blurred by the effort!

So what?  

 

Was it a good race?  As a whole it was an amazing event.  Johnny Fling is a legend.  He keeps improving a great product whilst retaining it’s family feel and having a smile and chat for everyone.  For me personally it was a great success and in the circumstances I think I went as fast as I could reasonably expect to on the day.  It vindicated all the work, research, methods and preparation of the last 12 months and gave me confidence for my strategy at the Double Cateran, which still frankly terrifies me.

 

I also got a PB by 2 hours 15 minutes.  I think most 12 hour athletes can if they want to.  And I think most can go considerably quicker still.  It can be done on a diet of less than 50 miles a week too.  I’m beginning to see a lot of sense in what Stuart Mills says.  

 

Can I do better?  Yes.  I can dramatically reduce time spent wasted at CP’s, and another year of training and improvement should help.  Already am I thinking sub 9 hours for 2015, but we will see. I may run the Cateran 55 instead as preparation for the WHWR. One thing at a time…

 

The big lessons?   You can always push the body harder.  The mind is the major limiting factor in the performance on the day.  Never believe when someone tells you that you can’t achieve something, and never accept that you belong at a certain level until you are happy with the level you have reached.  A leopard really can change its spots; from now on I will call myself a runner rather than just a bloke who runs a bit.