About Me

Aberystwyth, Wales, United Kingdom

Thursday, July 26, 2012

A world of pain: Vitosha 100 km, 2012 (long)


How many years will it take me to figure out how to run this thing well? Fifteen so far and still counting! Or is 100 km a distance that I, being as stubbornly impatient as I am, can never run comfortably? Well, I won’t know the answers of these questions for at least another year. But first things first…

My training in the 4-5 months leading up to the race might have been the best I have ever done. No injuries and good consistency, except for a 15-day setback caused by a nasty chickenpox infection, which was immediately followed by some pretty intense field work. The key change I made relative to the previous two seasons (a whole lot more hills) seemed to be paying off, as I had a very good race at the Brecon Beacons 40M and completely exceeded my expectations in the leg of the Welsh Castles Relay that I ran in early June. My only concern, having to run the brutal Welsh 1000m Peaks race only two weeks before the Vitosha 100 km, was resolved through demonic intrusion in the form of torrential rain and flooding that prevented me from even starting the race.

Аfter a longer than usual taper, I was raring to go and had to work hard to keep my emotions in check. Meeting old friends at the start and chatting with them definitely helped, but I was still relieved when we were finally off and running. I was feeling great, despite my complete lack of heat acclimation, and ran the initial climb pretty hard. Iliya Kutsarov and Bojko Zlatanov made it clear that they had no intentions of letting me go, so we ran together for a good hour, with Dimitar Davidov lurking not too far behind us. Running and chatting with these guys was probably my favorite part of the race. I had literally run into Iliya in Sofia’s North Park last Christmas break, and we had several excellent sessions on the ice- and snow-covered alleys and trails. I was very impressed with his athletic ability, but even more so with his extremely positive outlook and enthusiasm for running, so seeing him in the race and sharing some time with him and his friend Bojko was awesome!

Both of these guys, however, had turned up with inadequate lights and the inevitable eventually happened. At a rocky stream crossing, Bojko stumbled and took a pretty hard spill, Iliya gentlemanly stopped to wait for him, while Dimitar and I kept plugging away (not so gentlemanly, but after making sure Bojko was not seriously hurt). The two of us ran the following 8-9 miles of flat(ish) single- and double-track to Kladnitsa fairly fast by ultramarathon standards, probably averaging around 7:30-min. miles, and that still felt pretty effortless. We even had a little chat, before I started pulling away ever so slightly. The rough section around Studena Reservoir also went pretty quickly for me this year, and I got to the Studena checkpoint (~21 miles) in 2h49, by far my fastest ever split for the first third of this race, and about 13 min. faster than last year!

The long, gradual climb from Bosnek to Chujpetlovo is often the crux of this race for me. It started out well enough – I was feeling strong and calm. But then my stomach quickly started going south and, although I tried every trick in my bag for turning it around, it kept getting worse. I had experienced this before, but things had always improved after no more than an hour. This time was clearly different, and I had no idea what to expect. I knew I would slow down a lot – there is no way to hold pace after four hours of running hard and with no chance of getting any calories in. The question was just how much I would slow down and how many people would catch me.

The rest of the race was a strange combination of extreme physical pain (running 100 km will do this to you, even without the severe stomach cramps I was experiencing) and a manic-depressive state of mind. I would go through bad patches during which the stomach cramps were so intense, I had to slow down to a crawl, or even stop, and I felt like I wanted to cry. But then things would improve temporarily and I would pick up the pace substantially, incredulous that I could still run so fast. I would then get very optimistic and try to eat something and make the effort more consistent…which would immediately lead to closing the cycle. 

Under different circumstances, I would have quit as soon as I was certain my stomach would not turn around. But with so many friends and relatives supporting me the whole way (my mother-in-law volunteered all night and most of the day at a checkpoint, without getting any sleep or rest!), this was simply not an option. I was committed to running until I fell in a ditch and could not move anymore. So I ran, walked, drank a cup of Coke at each checkpoint if I could, and prepared myself mentally for seeing Dimitar turn a corner and catch me. Strangely, the thought of that was not entirely negative. I knew he was going to run well this year, and I was happy for him and for the race atmosphere this was creating. I was just very pragmatically preparing myself for one last push when/if that happened.  In the end, I didn’t find out if I really had that in me, and cruised to a surprisingly stress-free finish.

All is well that ends well, they say. But I am not so sure I agree on this occasion. Yes, I won the race and finally broke the 9-hour barrier, something I have been dreaming of for a long time. But the way this happened leaves a lot to be improved. Like running for more than five hours on three cups of Coke and a handful of pretzels! And once again fighting demons through the entire second half of the race. What did I do wrong this time? No heat acclimation (new problem)? Starting too fast (permanent problem, and seemingly hopeless)? Or is this just the way it is when you are pushing yourself close to your limit? 

I am writing this literally minutes before jumping in the car and driving off to Coniston for the start of the Lakeland 100M. So, hopefully, I have at least subconsciously figured it all out (very doubtful ;)

Finally, here are a few pictures from the finish (courtesy of Krasimir Metodiev, Geotrade-Ivanov, Garmin Bulgaria):
 Looking better than I felt.
 This is about right – never again!
Best part of ultrarunning?
I really enjoy and value the way Dimitar and I have pushed each 
other in the last two Vitosha 100 km races.
Left to right: Dimitar, myself, Plamen Tsukev, and Iliya. 
Can’t wait to race these guys (and many others) 
again – it will take a huge effort to keep up 
with their improvement.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Vitosha 100 km, 2012 (short)

It will be a few more days until I get around to writing a proper race report, so here are the highlights and a few pictures (I am not sure whom I should credit for these – please let me know):

  • Record turnout (200+ for the foot race and 600+ mountainbikers), the best course marking I have seen (heck, even I had no trouble anywhere!), and very well stocked checkpoints. Overall, a world-class race – mark June 21-22, 2013 on your calendar and come to find out for yourself!
There were often only about ten of us at the start line
in the early 2000s, and I thought this wonderful
event was going extinct. Boy, was I wrong!

  • The field is getting increasingly competitive – five people ran under the previous course record (including at least two, who had never run this distance before), and 26, including two women, broke 12 hours. I am not sure when this trend of massive improvement will plateau, but my gut feeling is that we are nowhere near that point.
 Top three women: Maria Nikolova (left, 11:28),
Hristina Kozareva (middle, 10:18!!!),
and Malina Vatskicheva (right, 12:28).
 Hristina’s time would have been good enough to win the race
outright between 2000 and 2009! She finished looking really
strong, so I am sure she will be much faster next year.
Top three men: Dimitar Davidov (left, 9:02 - 32 min. improvement!),
yours truly (middle, 8:44), and Plamen Tsukev (right, 9:22 – 100 km debut!).
This does not even include the two runners who pushed the pace
early on: Iliya Kutsarov (9:23 – another 100 km debut!) and 
Bojko Zlatanov (11:50 after taking a nasty fall). I am guessing that, with
better headlamps, we will see at least one of these two on the ‘podium’ 
next year, and probably in the middle.
  • I finally broke nine hours, and even won the race, but it was far from smooth sailing. More details on that soon (the traffic stats for this blog have convinced me to write my race report in both English and Bulgarian – thanks for the attention!).

Friday, June 8, 2012

Welsh 1000m peaks (DNS)


Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to get up very early in the morning on race day, not even have to look through the window to know that the weather is horrendous, and then (bailing out obviously being out of the question) have the divine/demonic intervention that the weak and negative side of you has been hoping for all along? Well, it happened to me today, and it sucks! 

I hit a road closure just a few miles into my drive to Llanberis early this morning. Incredulous, I opened the road atlas, looked at the long detour that I would need to take and calculated that I would definitely miss the bus to the start, quite possibly the start as well. So I turned around and drove back home. Now I can definitely relate to the images of crying runners after the cancellation of the 2010 UTMB, even if the scale of my disappointment is obviously quite different. So it goes…

On the positive side, I was definitely a bit worried about having to run an undoubtedly gruelling 4-5-hour race only two weeks before the Vitosha 100K, with the Lakeland 100M only a month later. And I am kind of curious to see how the involuntary long taper will work out.

Running with the Bulls (Cader Idris 2012)


No, not the one in Pamplona. This one takes place in Dolgellau (N Wales), and the ‘bulls’ are actually quite agile:
 Matt Roberts (top) and the Jones brothers (Andrés - middle and Felipe - bottom). I am not quite ready to hang with these guys, but have halved the gap relative to last year.
This was much less of a kick in the teeth relative to 2011. 
 But it still hurt and highlighted my lack of
specific training for fast hill running. 
 I did, however, manage to hold my position on the downhill,
and even passed one runner.
10th overall in 1:39. Not bad, but maybe I should
take this more seriously next year…?
In case you were following Zegama and are wondering who Lauren Jeska is. Six days after running an amazing race in the Pyrenees, she said she was tired,
but I couldn't really tell.
----------------

Welsh 1000m peaks tomorrow, and more running with the bulls. This time over a longer distance and rougher terrain. Course knowledge is apparently key for this one, and mine is limited to the last 800 m. Not a good sign, but I am still looking forward to it. Should be a half-decent day too, after a week of ‘unsettled’ weather, even by British standards.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Brecon Beacons 40M, 2012


Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five … relax and run efficiently … fifty-six, fifty-seven … don’t blow this excellent run like you’ve done so many times before… fifty-eight … keep this up and it would be pretty tough for people behind to catch you… fifty-nine, sixty … get to a hundred and maybe you could walk for a while and enjoy the view.

Those of you born and bred east of the Iron Curtain might be reminded of Anatoly Kashpirovsky, but this is actually not one of his sessions. It is me talking to myself on the ascent of Cribyn, the last major climb of the Brecon Beacons summer 40-mile race (see my race report from 2011 for an elevation profile). I am having a very good race indeed, and it has been a long time coming. At least about a year, to be more precise.

The talking-to-myself part is something I do in long races, when things get tough. I start making little deals with myself, such as “run 200 steps, then walk for two minutes.” I am not sure if this helps with anything, except for distracting me from the pain and breaking the overwhelming distance left to be covered into small, manageable pieces. If you don’t think this works, you have to see “Touching the void,” one of the best movies ever.

The start of the race, after a social first mile, was just about as quick as last year. But unlike last year, by the top of the first climb, about an hour in, I knew I would be running well that day. Only, there were others, who were running just as well, or even better. Jim Mann and I set the pace for the first couple of hours, and I quite enjoyed how we pushed each other (he even put me back on course at one point – thanks Jim!). But then the long, boggy second climb came, and it quickly became clear that nobody had done their hill homework as well as Piers Stockwell. He passed by us as if we were standing still, without even looking like he was working hard, and he was out of sight within minutes. Impressive stuff!

Well, running for second it is then. I pulled away from Jim slightly at the halfway point, and by the top of Cribyn I had a cushion of maybe 7-8 minutes and was feeling reasonably good. I knew that it was possible that someone else had run the first half of the race more conservatively and would come flying past both of us in the last few miles. But I decided not to worry about this because there was nothing I could do to prevent it at that point. Except for continuing to run as smoothly as possible with 30+ miles and 8000+ ft of vertical in my legs, drinking as much as possible (it was a warm day), and trying to somehow swallow and digest another gel. 

Finally, the seemingly endless section of ridge running is over, I drop down to the reservoir, run the last few flat miles fairly well, but somehow get lost for a few minutes (AGAIN!!!), before getting my act together and finishing a pretty satisfying race in 6h39. People at the finish line seem a bit startled when I show up (Piers is already taking a nap, I think), and I ask where the first guy is, so that I could congratulate him. “What first guy?” they respond “YOU are the first guy” …

It turns out Piers got off the ridge too early and lost almost an hour to finish fourth. To say this is ironic would be an understatement. Navigation errors had ruined pretty much my entire racing season last year, including my previous attempt of this race, and now I was benefiting from one. Uh well, a win is a win, and I will take it, even if it didn’t come quite in the way I would have liked (I don’t have that many, so I can’t be too picky about style). 

In any case, a great race, and I am very happy with my progress on running both up and down hills. One focus race down, three more to go.

Cader Idris tomorrow, with no particular expectations. 

And here are the race results and a few pictures from the beautiful day out in the Brecon Beacons:
 Proudly sporting my WVMTR shirt, which was given to me by
the Morgantown S&T folks.
Photo by Jon Philips (Meun Photography).
The early miles, not as fast as last year, but that changed soon enough.
Photo by Darren Ross.
Feeling good and in the lead at the top of the first climb.
Photo by Darren Ross.
Jim Mann, right behind me at the top of the first climb. 
He soon caught me and opened a small gap. 
This guy can run in the mud, let me tell you!
Photo by Darren Ross.
Piers Stockwell: “You call these hills?”
Photo by Jon Philips (Meun Photography).
 Ready to call it a day, but there are 10+ miles and a major climb left.
Time for a Kashpirovsky moment?
Photo by Jon Philips (Meun Photography).

Friday, May 11, 2012

Final Tune-up


My race season starts in earnest tomorrow with the Brecon Beacons 40M. After an eight-month break from racing ultramarathons, I have been feeling a bit rusty and anxious, so last weekend I decided to let some of the nervous energy out. 

On Saturday, I raced the train up and down Snowdon, mostly providing entertainment for my family, but also getting a good effort in, especially on the climb.
 
 Snowdon is stunningly beautiful in good weather.
 
 I was running fairly well but my splits were still embarrassing, compared to Kenny Stuart’s incomprehensible 1h02 for the return trip.

On Sunday, I entered the low-key 17-miler Ras Y Diafol, which traditionally follows the much more competitive Red Kite Challenge. My goal was to run hard for a couple of hours, but avoid getting too wrapped up in racing. 

Gareth Green (running on tired legs after finishing 8th on Saturday), Dylan Lewis, and I stayed close together and pushed each other throughout the race, with each of us making a move at some point. Dylan was clearly the strongest among us that day and eventually managed to pull away with 3-4 miles to go. I gave him a bit of a chase (especially after seeing him walk a gradual climb and inferring that he was cramping). But although I was gaining on him and cut his lead to maybe 20-30 seconds, I was not willing (or able?) to work any harder than this, so I eased up a bit and cruised in to finish in 2h04, about a minute behind Dylan and a minute ahead of Gareth. 

Overall a pretty nice day: good race, very enjoyable finish-line chatter, and even prizes (a bottle of wine for Aberystwyth AC winning the club competition and a check for £30 for finishing second overall - so much for my amateur status).
 
Dylan (white vest) and I, obviously not running hard enough. Gareth is about 30 m ahead at this point.
The three of us (Gareth on the left), happy to be done.

Now, let’s see if I can stay on course (in many ways) and give myself a chance to compete in the Brecon Beacons.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Race Plans for 2012

After some deliberation, I have solidified my race schedule for 2012. While I am still going to run a few of the local short fell races (mostly to remind myself how poor my strength and speed are), my focus will be on these four:

Brecon Beacons 40M (May 12, 2012)
This is once again part of the Runfurter Ultra-running Championships, so I expect it to be fairly competitive. I don’t usually return to races I have done (the Vitosha 100K being the only exception so far), but this one is too close to pass, and I actually do want to try it again after last year’s navigation debacle.
Welsh 1000m Peaks 20M (June 9, 2012)
What can be better than a short fell race? A long one, of course. I am looking forward to this one, but I will have to be very careful, if I want to run well at the Vitosha 100K.

Vitosha 100K (June 23, 2012)
This one will always be special for me, even when/if I eventually ‘get it right.’

Lakeland 100M (Ultra Tour of the Lake District) (July 27, 2012) 
By all measures, the big one this year. I don’t dare plan much or any running in August. Then, we’ll see.

Meanwhile, here are some pictures from a 10M fell race (Ras Yr Aran) that I ran this weekend. I was too tired from traveling and field work to compete, but how do you pass on this weather and scenery?