2016 x 2016

Happy new year! I hope 2017 brings you health, wealth and happiness. 

My 2016 journey is done. I set out to run 2016 miles, and finished the year with 2104 miles completed. 

Thank you to everyone who supported me, liked things I posted, followed the blog and said kind words. Thank you. 

I won’t be posting under this blog anymore..you can follow my new Tumblr below:

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/the-ultra-journey

In case you’ve been on the moon or somehow missed it, I’ve finished my 2016 miles in 2016 running challenge in November. 

Things started to get a bit surreal after that...I decided to write to some amazing organisations who have made running all these miles not only possible, but enjoyable. I wrote to Strava and Smashrun to thank them for their outstanding apps and tools that have enabled me to track my miles and share them with others. 

I also wrote to the lovely people at Brooks and Garmin...I’ve done the vast majority of my miles in Brooks shoes and they hit that sweet spot between comfort and responsiveness that have enabled me to run marathons and beyond. Garmin make my watch, the Fenix 3...which has proved indestructible and has never failed in blizzards, up mountains, on trails, tarmac, no path at all...the Garmin Fenix 3 is one of the finest pieces of technology I have ever owned. As an avowed Apple fan...I’m used to brilliant pieces of kit...but the Fenix 3 is just phenomenal.

I should note that, I simply wrote to say thanks...I really didn’t expect anything in return...to be honest I didn’t even expect a reply!

 Here’s what Smashrun said in reply to my email:

And then Strava replied too!

And Strava sent me swag!!!

And Brooks replied!

And Brooks sent merch too!!!

No response from Garmin...but hey ho. 

I’m rather overwhelmed really, I can’t think about it too much because I get upset, but the belief from the people I love and from strangers and from companies to get through this challenge just cements my commitment to keep running and aiming higher. 

Now that we’re in the depths of winter, I’m working my way though a hybrid of Insanity and P90x3 workouts to try and strengthen my core and upper body. My running mileage has gone from 40-50 miles per week to around 15...which feels very nice on my feet. When I run, it’s with the freedom that comes from no targets or milestones, just for the fun of it. 

The awesome cards and trophy from the amazing people who supported me in running 2016 miles this year.

In a few weeks, I will have completed my challenge to run 2016 miles in 2016.

It’s slightly surreal to be coming to the end of this thing, to think that these feet have dragged this body over 1900 miles on a journey that’s taken me from the mountains and towns of my home in Scotland, to runs around the houses of Parliament in London, to cornfields in France and along the canals of Staffordshire. Considering that a little over two years ago I weighed 50lbs more than I do now, I couldn't run to end of my street or climb a flight of stairs without getting out of breath and now I can run ultra marathons. It’s humbling to think of the support of my amazing girlfriend and friends and family who have supported me every step of the way, who have lovingly given me the space and time to get this thing done.

But it’s not done yet and these final hundred miles will be the hardest yet. Darkness has returned to Scotland after it’s long summer absence and with the clocks spinning backwards an hour at the end of October, my running world is returned to the tarmac and street-lights of the first hundred miles back in January. The short Scottish autumn is coming to an end, the last few golden leaves are falling from the trees, the ferns and roadside bushes that were once a frenzy of green are now frost-stunted brown and black. As night falls, icy tendrils are just starting to caress windscreens and windows with cold crystal fingers, a little taste of the real winter months that are still to come.

Going from 216 miles to 116 miles has been fun, two runs stand out, firstly a wonderful 20 mile run around my home town in Nairn, blessedly flat compared to the hills of Glencoe and Glen Orrin, seeing autumn up close was great, and it was probably the last long run of the year. Secondly, my penultimate race of the year, the Culloden 17.46k which was a challenging, surprisingly hilly race round the historic battlefield in Scotland, you can read my account of it here using an amazing site/app thing called Storyteller.fit which has been created by a member of the Strava community....another fine group of humans who keep me running on the dark, cold nights.

One more race to go, on Sunday November 6th, I’ll run the Brodie 10k, I ran this last year and am hoping for good weather and maybe even a PB. Then it’s just a few weeks of running left.... 

It’s safe to say I am a Brooks fan (apart from their trail shoes, that’s for another review). The Brooks Ghost 8 was one the best pairs of shoes I have ever run in and the Brooks Ghost 9 slightly improves on what was already an amazing middle/long distance shoe for non-professional runners. It’s a heavy shoe when you compare it against similar breeds in the same price bracket, coming in at around 11oz which is actually fractionally heavier than the 10.9oz Ghost 8 and over 2oz heavier than a lightweight offering such as an Addidas Boost. The clever people at Brooks have invested that weight wisely, removing most of the fussy plastic stuff that was stuck all over the upper of the Ghost 8 that didn't really do anything. The upper on the Ghost 9 is now a single piece of material with some extra protection around the toes, it looks better and you don’t miss the welded on bits from the Ghost 8. It’s clear some of the innovations from the Brooks Launch series has trickled over into the Ghost 9, and that is no bad thing.

This weight (and a tiny bit more) has been put to far better use, the inside of the shoe now has a plush sock-thing that delivers a really snug fit and the real winner is the cushioning. Typical shoe manufacturing jargon about Caterpillar Crash Pad’s, Omega flex grooves and Biomogo DNA is all there, to the uninitiated it translates into better grip, more cushioning and a ride that is kinder on your feet than the Brooks Ghost 8. Every time I go to see the lovely people at Run4It in Inverness, I try on the latest offerings from Saucony and Hoka on the treadmill and come away disappointed with their lack of responsiveness and agility, they just don’t work for me. Conversely the Brooks hit that sweet spot of delivering comfort and support over distance, but you can still feel the surface you are running on and respond accordingly.

That’s the great thing about the Ghost, you can take them just about anywhere that there is half decent path, despite being positioned as a road shoe, they are equally at home on well put together trails which makes them incredibly versatile. I’ve never lost traction on the wettest of tarmac, and grip is only compromised on surfaces like wet grass, ice or seriously filthy trails, considering this a road shoe, that’s something the chaps at Brooks should be very proud of. The removal of the plastic on the upper has hurt this versions weather proofing, so if you run on wet trails, I think your feet will get wetter than in a pair of Ghost 8’s, but as I’ve repeatedly pointed out, it’s not a proper trail shoe.

In terms of durability, I did almost 500 miles in my 8’s, although they were in bad shape after about mile 450. I anticipate the same from the Ghost 9’s. I’ve completed two marathons so far in the shoe and run a little over 100 miles in total thus far, with no blisters, rubs or chafing that I could attribute to this shoe. 

If you’re looking for a shoe to run anything from 8 miles to 80 and you want a shoe that can cope with more than just tarmac, the Brooks Ghost 9 should be on your shortlist. Is it worth upgrading from your 8’s to 9’s? In my opinion no, the 8 is a fantastic shoe and whilst the ride is slightly better in the Ghost 9, it’s not worth the £115 price of the 9’s, the 8’s are now at the end of their life-cycle and can be snapped up for half the price, I would of done that if there had been any in my size!

Product Effectiveness 10/10 – I want a shoe that sacrifices weight for comfort over longer distances, but remains responsive. The Ghost 9 absolutely nails this.

Value for Money 7/10 – If you’ve got a pair of Ghost 8’s and liked them...buy another pair! The 9’s aren’t revolutionary enough to justify their £115 price, but if you don’t own 8’s and are in the market for a pair of shoes to train for and run a marathon in, you’ve found a contender.

The previous hundred miles were marked by marathons. This latest block has mostly been completed alone, which I think I’ve needed...

I’ve written at length about Glencoe and three weeks after it I’m left with two lasting things, firstly exhaustion.

Despite keeping the training runs after the marathon low and flat, my legs are busted up. My pace is about a minute off where it should be, and the slightest incline sets my thigh muscles to screaming. I’m tired ALL THE TIME and sleeping far more than I normally do. I’m balancing the competing desires of staying on track to complete 2016 miles by mid November and avoiding injury through over-training.

Secondly, a bit of Glencoe is stuck in my brain, like a song I can’t forget.

Autumn has glided into Highlands, using a fortnight of stunning sunshine and cloudless blue sunshine as a clever disguise. But evidence of her arrival is everywhere, the frosty mornings and the gold leaves drifting onto the roads indicate that this warm spell is a temporary state of affairs, lulling us into a false sense of security before she unleashes sleet-fanged gale force winds and early evening darkness. The warmer weather turned Glencoe into a brutal paradise, and those incredible hills have been calling to me during a tough week at work. With mountains on my mind, I headed out to my parents place on the Black Isle over the weekend, because it’s within striking distance of the magical Glen Orrin.

Glen Orrin, is beautifully unspoilt, and has none of the tourist trappings of our more famous glens, you will be unable to buy postcards or toy Loch Ness monsters or silly tartan hats here. Unlike it’s more successful siblings, Glen Orrin requires effort and sacrifice to get to, I spent a wonderful few miles trying to find the deer-stalking path that weaves through the glen, as Red Kites soared overhead and stags bellowed out their rutting challenges across the valley. I followed streams and cut my legs on the heather and then hit a really good trail on which I found the enormous Loch Orrin, azure blue and mirror calm...and then the Dam and the road home, I felt delighted to finally see the tarmac and sad at the same time. I didn’t see a single human being until I emerged on the road down to Marybank. A 20 mile circuit that I wish I’d known about before Glencoe, it is an amazing training run.  

The following weekend was Grants birthday, we headed out to a rented croft house out on the west coast of Scotland. There are plenty of poets and musicians who can do a better job of describing the largely unspoilt, unrelenting, unending perfection of Assynt. I took a run along Loch Lurgainn, with Sgorr Tuath’s crags looking down on me from the other side of the water, and then battling up Stac Pollaidh, a 2000ft climb on a really steep trail that reduced me to walking pace almost as soon as I hit the path. The peak was lost in boiling clouds and the wind was gusting, but every time the clouds cleared, the views from the top were mind blowing. The following day, nursing a fairly industrial strength hangover, Grant and I took an easy jog along the Clachtoll peat road, a stunning trail that wound its way through tiny lochs and crags and Highland Cows and stags. An unforgettable weekend with my favourite people.

The Glencoe Marathon...

Billed as one of the toughest marathons in the UK, the Glencoe Marathon is completely and utterly insane.

Doing it just 7 days after the Loch Ness Marathon, I had a really restless night before the start, I’d taken it easy in the week in between the marathons, doing just two training runs and some weight training beforehand, my legs were ok but, every time I tried a hill, I felt pain in my thighs, a little leaving present from Loch Ness.

As I stumbled to the pick-up point in Fort William in the early hours of Sunday morning, watching the mist rise off Loch Eil as I trudged along, my breath steaming in the near-freezing air I was scared. Scared that I’d blow up, that I’d get hurt and end the 2016 miles in 2016 quest, scared that I’d fall or get lost or...god. The only people up at the time were runners, and not just the normal marathon crew, the trail runners, the hill-climbers and fell runners, some of the fittest, most experienced runners in the country. And me, who couldn’t run to the end of my street three years ago.

There was that fun kind of chaos at the pick-up point, runners milling around, waiting for the off and a single marshal trying to count people in. The bus arrived and we boarded with minimal fuss, then slowly climbed out of Fort William and along Glencoe, the sky was cloudless, eggshell blue and the sun hadn’t risen above the mountains on either side. Even though I am fortunate enough to live in the Highlands, the Scottish West Coast has a kind of beauty that defies belief. In the always-online, 24/7 human bustle of 21st Century living, it is good to sometimes feel insignificant, to be humbled by the sheer, unrelenting awesome of the mountains.

We pulled into the Red Squirrel campsite at about 8.15am, the queues for the toilets were manageable, the bag drop well organised and the coffee station fantastically co-ordinated by a lovely team of volunteers. The briefing was delivered by a charming Englishman on top of a Land Rover, he was funny and good natured and pleasant. And it was cold, no wind, out of the sun, in a valley in the Highlands, 800 people shivered and smiled and sipped coffee, waiting for the off.

We departed in waves, the fittest headed off first to great applause, then the B group, then my group. Applause ringing through the campsite as we started the hardest race of my life. First on tarmac for a few miles and then the trail along Glencoe, still shrouded in shadow as the sun fought to rise above the enormous peaks on either side. Breath steaming, cold muscles protesting as we jogged along, the trail was narrow, single file in some places, snaking down the glen, climbing crash barriers to cross the road on one side, then curving back to cross the road again. The sun breaks over the mountains and the temperatures rises immediately, we’re hot rather than cold now. People are so slow, I don’t know why they are so slow, this is easy. Gently climbing, I fight to pass people, to get some room, some breathing space. Then we turn again onto a Land Rover track that continues to climb. 

Some folk are walking the hills already, I fly past them, these slopes are simple, I am made of Inverness rock and Nairn hills, I can do this.

 At mile 7 it all changes, we cross the road and the gravel Land Rover track vanished, swallowed by mud and bog and hill. There is no route, there is only mud, feet soaking, sinking knee deep into the sludge. People are falling. I push on, it’s like the Culbin bogs past Nairn, where the beach gives way to soggy marsh, but it’s uphill. My calves are burning agony, my feet are numb from the constant soaking.It goes on for miles. Miles of unending bog. I still have more than 15 miles to go. 

I cannot do this, I am city boy flab and corporate drone. The clever, slow folk built up to this, I was stupid and now I’m broken.

I see it in the distance, jutting out of the swamp, the Devils Staircase, tiny people swarming around a twisting trail up a mountain. It looks like something out of Dante’s inferno, tiny souls caught on an endless climb uphill. Finally, mercifully, the bog ends and we've swapped one form of torture for another. A leg breaking, lung-choking, murderous climb, rocks slipping underfoot, nobody can run up this, but they are. I catch my last glimpse of the ‘A’ group as they hit the summit, I will not see these folk again until the finish. C group are walking, we are humans rather than mountain goats. We sweat and swear and fight our way to the top of the staircase, the view at the top is insanely beautiful, 360 degrees of mountains, lochs and glens, and not a house or mark of civilisation anywhere. Just Scotland, in all of its sun-kissed glory.

Then it’s down, plunging down 1800 ft over the course of a few miles. The trail is rocky and runners fall, and I fall, fortunately onto the trail-side heather, then we’re onto easier terrain, a gravel track that flows like a river into Kinlochleven. I’m halfway, there’s a food station and tarmac, blissful, smooth tarmac through the town before we hit the trail again. We’re in forest now and climbing. It’s the Devils staircase all over again, another twisting, tortuous trail uphill. There’s very little left in my legs. Gels are sucked, shot bloks chewed and water drank, but my legs are burning stumps by the time I get to the top. Heart rate is too high, sweat-drenched and everywhere there is nothing but majestic hills, at least it’s a well put together, wide trail. We are moving through another valley now, flanked in every direction by imposing mountains. The route is flatter, but every rise and fall of the trail reduces me to a walk as mile 15 rolls into mile 20.

The Gucci feed stop deserves special mention. At around mile 20, a group of people haul 4x4’s into the middle of nowhere and set up the feed station to beat all feed stations. Offering the traditional water, snacks and electrolyte drinks, they go the extra mile with iced fruit punch and a very well stocked cheese board that can be washed down with a glass of port should you wish it. Water bottles are filled without asking and whilst the volunteers across the course were wonderful, the fine men and women of the Gucci food stop deserve special mention, so polite and quick and pro-active and lovely. I don’t trust my stomach with the port, but the iced fruit punch is like nectar from the gods.

I am fuelled to the finish, but there is a sting in the tail that’s hidden in the elevation graph of the Glencoe marathon, three, short, steep, sadistic climbs, that sap the last energy from already broken legs. There’s a final climb at about mile 23, then you come onto a wide, smooth, lovely gravel trail that spins you downhill over three miles onto the finish line. It’s a bit cramped at the finish, with several hundred marathon and half marathon runners all coming together into a narrow stretch of side-road, but there’s so much goodwill and positivity and water and a wooden medal that you overlook the crowds and just soak it all in.

I did it. 26 miles, 4,400ft of climbing in 5 hours and 9 minutes, just a week after doing the Loch Ness marathon. I’m going to wait for feeling to return in my legs before I consider doing it again next year. It was brutally hard in perfect weather conditions. I am terrified to think what that race would be like in the rain, wind or snow...

Update at 1723 miles.

The hardest races of the year are now in the books. The Loch Ness Marathon and Glencoe Marathon are memories rather than goals to aim for.

Three races in three weeks, the first of which was the Pitlochry 10k. In my experience 10k races are usually flat and on tarmac. This 10k is neither, featuring almost constant uphill and downhill gradients and trail sections, it was really challenging. I managed to finish in 44 minutes, which is 2 minutes off my pb time on a ‘normal’ 10k route so I was happy with that. Added to which, Pitlochry is stunning, the route was brilliant and I came away really happy.

The Baxters Loch Ness marathon was surprisingly easy. God that sounds arrogant, but it actually was, I was well rested and well fed and got it right for once. You get up stupidly early and then you’re bussed around the shores of Loch Ness to a hill in the middle of nowhere. 2,000 people standing around looking at the most incredible view whilst either queuing for the 10 toilets on the start line or peeing in a push or queuing for the single coffee station. Considering that this is the 15th Loch Ness marathon, you’d think they’d grasp the idea that they need hundreds of toilets and could serve coffee on the 1 hour 30 minute bus journey. The start line was, frankly, a joke.

Things got better as soon as the gun sounded, the race is amazingly marshalled and supported, every little highland community along the route was full of cheering people. The feed stations were outstanding, Clif sponsor the race, so they had their amazing shot blocks, gels and bars in abundance, along with tons of water. It’s the first race where I didn’t feel insanely dehydrated at the end. The race finishes in Bught park, which had been transformed into a tented village and getting cheered home around the river and across the line was fantastic. The goody bag was excellent, containing an excellent running t-shirt which was so good I used it for the Glencoe marathon and a random bottle of sun-cream, which seems like the most ironic thing to give to runners of an autumnal Scottish marathon. Anyway, I finished in 3hrs 45 which is a PB so happy days.

Update at 1625 miles run for the year. There are 391 miles between me and my goal of running 2016 miles in 2016.

This was a tough, solitary set of miles with some disappointments and some surprises.

I planned to run a full 26.6 mile training marathon on Sunday Sept 4th, to prepare me for the ‘real’ marathons that are just a few weeks away. I made a stupid mistake, meeting up with my nephew for lunch the day before...unfortunately that quickly turned into beers, then more beers and I woke up on the Sunday seriously hungover. I forced myself out and managed 20 miles before dehydration forced me to cut the route short and head home, I also carried the kit I plan to on the Glencoe Marathon. That extra weight did not help at all.

On Thursday 8th, my stomach decided to collapse for a week. I don’t know if this was a virus, food poisoning or something else, but for six days, food just went straight through me. I managed to fight through it, cutting mileage on Thursday, then playing catch up on the Saturday and finishing up on Sunday with a 16 mile run. My bodies inability to retain food and water took its toll on the long run, despite sucking on gels and drinking tons of electrolyte-laden water, I was a dizzy, dehydrated mess by the end. But I pushed through it and hit my 50 mile target for the week. The 16 mile run also featured the Glencoe running pack, which I now hate with a passion. An emergency blanket, waterproof jacket, gels, hat, gloves and water, I have no idea how I am going to cope carrying this over 26.6 miles and over 4,000ft of climb! After a week of upset, my stomach has now settled down, making running a lot more enjoyable again.

There is now less than two weeks until the Loch Ness Marathon, at least that’s a flatter one and there’s no need for a damn pack.

I’ll finish with the best news. I bought two new pairs of running shoes. The Brooks Ghost 9’s which are a replacement for my recently deceased Ghost 8’s, they are outstanding and I’ll post a more a detailed review once I’ve racked up more miles. After trying on several different pairs of Brooks trail shoes and finding none of them to be to my liking, I settled on pair of Saucony Peregrine 6’s which are great, I did a ten mile trail run in these bad boys last week and they really are remarkable and a significant upgrade on my Nike trail runners. The Glencoe marathon will be the real test for the Peregrines.