The UT man of UTMB

So, my first DNF in my first 100 miler. It'll get to my excuses momentarily with a full race report, but I thought I would start with a quick thank you to all my friends and family for your sponsorship and kind words both before and since the day of the race. The grand total sits at 2898 pounds, it's a solid total for a cause that means a lot to the family so thanks once more.

So the race. I failed it, which is a complete bugger as it means I'll have to come back and try it again, sponsorship free to make it up to all those who supported my efforts. Chamonix itself was like nothing I've ever experienced before, the race itself likewise. UTMB was meant to kick off at 6.30pm but on the day of the event the start was postponed until 11.30pm. An odd and slightly unnerving time to head into the forbidding unknown of the mountains, but as I would be with two thousand or so other hardy fools I figured it should be ok. And so at 11pm I arrived at the start line to mill around with the other runners until kick off. In typical style the weather that had been so fine all week had turned to a fairly consistent rain and reportedly snow and freezing temperatures in the high passes. Something my training in 35 degrees and 95% humidity had not really prepared me for, so I found myself dressed in all of my cold weather gear on the start line, what would have been a preposterous idea in the warm weather just a few days before.

So, dressed in similar fashion and with similar athletic ability to the Michelin man, we counted down from ten in grandiose fashion to some even more grandiose music, the gun went off and we were off!! And then nothing happened. For us slow back of the packers, honestly we just stood there. It took 5 minutes for me to cross the start line, slow even by my standards. After much milling around it became apparent that the streets were only wide enough for 5-10 people, so with 2500 starting it understandably took a long while to get moving. and it was still cold, and still raining. Anticlimax doesn't quite cover it.

Anyway, we eventually started to move forward at a walk, then a shuffle and then, about 500 metres in I broke into a very relaxed jog aware, I thought, of what lay ahead and desperate to conserve energy. The start was quite fun until I started to be victimised by the crowd. I was wearing a pair of clear oakleys which apparently give me the appearance of Ali G. As pointed out by a couple of drunk brits 'It's Ali G!' they called out with great Wit. Very proud of themselves. Fuck off, I thought, whilst smiling and pretending to think it was all a great joke. A few hundred metres on and about 1.5k into the race, yet another English person called me Ali G. Right this is getting annoying I thought. And then, to compound the impact upon my fragile ego, every bloody French person on the way joined in. 'Ali' they called, mocking my appearance. Where's the support this race is famous for I thought They all looked very happy as they stand there mocking me. A couple of them even waving and shouting 'Ali Nicholas'. I was a couple of Ali's from snapping, when I realised that the French supporters were in fact shouting 'Allez', or 'go!'. I felt a little silly and regretted a few of my more choice responses to the supporters, so head down, a little embarrassed, I pushed on.

The first 10k to Les Houches was relatively flat road and trail so after adopting my customary position at the back of the field I drifted along quite happily at a jog. The first uphill was a steady winding road, back and forth, up and up and quite pleasant. I passed a lot of people on this uphill as I walked at a steady, driving pace. My HK hill walking and running kicking in quite nicely to push me up to Delevret at 14k. The downhill was another matter.

As we started to descend it became apparent that heavy rainfall and 2499 other runner passing before me did not create good conditions for walking down mountains. I attacked the downhill with all the elegance of Kung Fu Panda. My shiny red Salomon SLABS are not mud shoes. The comfort and grip I had experienced on the Mac in Hong Kong summer time deserted me pretty fast in the muddy rainy alps and I managed 3 pretty rough falls going down this first hill. At one point I managed to do something like the splits, pivoting onto my right shoulder, hitting a bump before gliding elegantly down the mountainside on my head. To say it wasn't pretty is an understatement. The other two falls were less dramatic and involved me gliding down calmly on my back, on one occasion I overtook my poles and had a few anxious moments trying to dig them out of the mud on the hillside. Normally I would laugh off the odd fall, it's part and parcel of long distance events off road that when you're tired you have trouble keeping your footing, but these conditions were treacherous and I was a tad worried about what was to come. Anyway, onwards and upwards I thought, 'Allez Kung Fu Panda'.

I arrived at the first at the first checkpoint in Saint Gervais in good order other than my 50% mud coating and I was really surprised to see people queueing at the desk to drop out. I knew I would struggle with this race, but 21k in was not a challenge other than the conditions. Perhaps the organisers were on to something with all of the mandatory gear. I don't think everyone was prepared for his event.

I had decided on a strategy to push through aid stations for the first half of the race, generally it's nice to have the support but I have always found it too big a temptation to stay in the warm with a nice cup of tea and biscuit rather than the horrible cold darkness of the mountains. So I manned up a little bit and pushed on. The next 10k to Notre Dame Gorge was a nice mix of walking the uphills and running the flats and downs and I really started to enjoy the race. My only issue at this stage was the cold, I'd got pretty wet with my falls and sweaty with my michelin layers, so every time I stopped the damp conditions had me shaking uncontrollably. I was pretty worried but decided that as I was warm when moving that was the best strategy and if I could get through until morning I should be ok in the sun. So on I went up the climb to Croix Du Bonhomme and bugger me was it a big one.

I walked up and up, sometimes in single file for two hours. It just went on and on, but I felt good and started to pass people. Not one of two people but hundreds of them. There were a lot of strugglers on this one and there was a steady stream of people passing the other way, decided for their own reasons and because of their own demons that enough was enough. I think the late start and the weather had more of an impact on this race than even the hills, but that's my opinion. The psychological impact of such changes cannot be underestimated in a mountain hundred miler. Although I was passing many people at this stage at will, I develop a battle against my own nemesis. A 65 year old man, perhaps older, much older who walked and ran carrying two big wooden poles. We yo, yo'd for about an hour passing one another until the station at La Balme where I left him for good, sitting, looking relaxed with a cup of tea. Bloody impressive effort.

The descent to Les Chapieux was equally treacherous but I Ku Fung Panda'd down the hill, somehow avoiding any more heavy falls and keeping a modicum of pride in tact. I'm not sure I could have handled anyone asking me if I was ok again as I lay looking at the skies. I cracked in a few glasses of coke and a couple of energy gels and moved on. It was now day time and the warm weather I had hoped for had not materialised. I'd passed a good few hundred people now according to my twitter feeds that I checked later. A pleasing effort and I felt good as I walked strongly towards the summit of Col De La Seigne, through the snow fields. It went on, and on and on some more. I'd always thought the hills in HK would be good preparation for any race but I realised at this stage that these mountains were really somewhere else. As was the weather.

On the way down Col De La Seigne it started to warm up a bit and the footing was much more secure, the gradient a little lighter. I started to feel much better about the descents but I was still a little chilly and shivering each time. I passed by Lac Combal aid station and headed up the next big hill, the Arete Du Mont Favre, a beautiful hill that looked a little like Telly Tubby land, green mounds and a lovely little alpine stream trickling down. I have to say, some of the views and experiences of this race were up there with the best I have ever seen.

This was when the wheels came off. I felt fine going over the top of A Du MF but as I headed down the other side, what should have been a beautiful downhill became one of the most painful experiences of my running life. My right knee simply gave out and for the next two hours I hobbled my way down to Courmayeur, feeling a deep sense of despair as I saw the race going away from me. The final descent to Courmayeur was incredibly steep and I must have been passed by a couple hundred runners, all filled with the urgency and energy I once felt as they headed on down to town, desperate to beat the cut offs. It's the experience of the back of the packer, the race is against yourself and lack of ability, whether you can beat the time limit as opposed to the other competitors.

It's always been a personal battle that I have won, I've never failed to finish a race before and I've always pushed on, but this time I could feel it slipping. So I dropped a load of drugs. That's always helped, but even my monster 75mg diclofenics had no impact and I couldn' walk. I sat down on a bench, overlooking courmayeur and with tears in my eyes I texted the girlfriend who I knew was waiting to see me there. 'C'est finis'. The 6 month dream was over.

So I hobbled down to Courmayeur

I collected by belongings, had my wrist band cut off, had my race number cut up and got the bus back to Chamonix.

My knee has cleared up really well since the race so I am assuming it was my quads that blew up, but my lungs have been more problematic. I was having some breathing difficulty during the race that I had put down to raw fear and cowardice, but it seems that it could have been something more. I developed a mighty chest infection which some horse drug sized tablets are helping with and also some drugs to deal with an infection in my big toe, developed after all of the tough descents drove the nail into the toe itself. In fact, the ordeal in an Italian A&E one evening was probably more scarring than the UTMB. Or the UT, which was what I completed. So until next year, I'll be Not the UTMB Man.

Ze twenty euro's of caution...

This week, the majority of the worlds best trail runners, hikers, explorers and me descend on Chamonix to attempt the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc. I've had a wrist band attached that can only be cut off that proudly says UTMB. It's red. Bright. and a little embarrassing. I'd rather not have something announcing to the world what I am attempting. I prefer the relative annonymity of blogging rather than people looking at me, obviously thinking 'he'll never finish'.

It started early in the week when I was in a trail running store buying loads of kit I didn't know I needed. When I arrived at the checkout the lady looked before we had a slightly awkward and short conversation:

"aaaah (in a French way) CCC!!".
"Um, no, UTMB"
"Oh"

Not exactly confidence inspiring I have to admit. I must still be bloated after the loing haul flight. Also not inspiring confidence is the sheer number of ultra fit looking types floating around town. With approximately 5000 runners taking part in four different events over the course of the week the town is alive with runners of all nationalities milling around the various outdoor stores as well as a small town of wooden huts that has been erected to host a kind of outdoor wear expo. The energy of the town is like nothing I've experienced before and I have to say I love it.

It's funny to observe the different styles of the he various nationalities in attendance. The top US ultra guys seem to have a very laid back style that they bring, a little more of a hippy, chilled vibe. I saw Geoff Roes, Dakota Jones and the i-run far guy, Bryon, milling around having a laugh yesterday, looking very relaxed. A bit of a checked shirt and shorts thing going on. Then you get the southern euro's, the Italians, Spanish and Southern French who are all in what can only be described as 'Salomon Chic'. Even when off duty they seem to stick to their tight bright and shiny Salomon running wear and garish colours. Quite a lot of strutting and preening going on here. I've even seen a few all in one tri suits on display for a wander around town. For a moment I thought it was fancy dress. The british contingent seem to fall somewhere between the Americans and the Southern Europeans. Casual clothes with a hint of Salomon. Just to let the casual observer know that although they are dressed in normal clothes, we're here to get stuck in. Enough Sex and the Chamonix.

As mentioned, yesterday it has all become a little more obvious as to what we're here for as we've been officially branded with wrist straps that cannot be removed. Mine's bright red and branded UTMB. My first thought was that it went well with my Salomon SLABS and red cap. My second thought was that it is really going to happen and ever since then I have had 'the fear', gnawing away at my stomach. This is really going to hurt! Can I even do this? Do I have enough pain killers? Will a local doctor give me opiates? Shall I just get drunk, eat cheese and miss the start? All the usual thoughts before doing something so fool hardy.

Before official registration yesterday Amy the Korean and I spent a buit of quality tourist time together. Best event of the week by far way the cable car trip up form Chamonix (1000m) up to L'Aiguille du Midi (3800m) and across to Italy (3400m). The trip acroos to Italy was in a tiny 4 seater car, with stunning panoramic views of the bloody massive drop onto the glacier that could occur at any moment should there be a stiff gust of wind. Not that I was scared of course, I just don't like the thought of imminent crushed-on-ice-in-a-tiny-cable-car death. The journey back across the glacier was particularly traumatic as we were with an italian couple who insisted on jerking from left to right, opening the windows to take pictures (just to really catch the gust of wind!) abnd generally causing the thing to rick back and forth. Of course as mentioned, I wasn't scared one lkittle bit of being 500 meteres above a glacier in an egg carton, it was great fun. My legs weren't shaking and I didn't wee a little bit. I'm too macho for that. I'd highly recommend it to all!

So yesterday tourism came to a close and the race started to become a reality. Registration was efficient and quick and at times felt a little like stepping into the Lord of the Rings. We had to put down a deposit for the race chip that is contained in the aformentioned red salomon matching wrist strap. I believe something must have been lost in translation, or it was another slip of tongue when observing my obvious lack of fitness, but the very French lady on the reception desk looked me up and down before asking:

"Do you av ze twenty euros of caution?"

"Bloody hell", I though. It sounded a little like I should have been on a quest beforehand, rather that withdrawing it from the BNP Paribas brand on the corner.

"Yes", I replied solemnly, hoping I looked grave and serious enough, "I have the twenty euros of caution". As I held it aloft triumphantly.

With tension building she replied "Merci", and showed me on my way. I was a bit let down. No crack of thuinder, flash of lightening. I just rejioned my friend Tom in the queue feeling a little like this challenge might be beyond me.

As well as my quest for the twenty euro's of caution I have faced other challenges this week. Trying to find food that wasn't shit in geneva, trying not to spend my monthly salary a day in geneva, trying to convince the girlfriend that there wasn't a remote chance of death during this race, trying not to cry on the cable car. However, the toughest test of willpower to date was definitely being in France and not gorging myself on cheese and red wine. It's been a real struggle. I started off strong, but as is always the case as the week went on I felt more and more tested, I started to lose my focus, my body became weaker and weaker, even moving forward was a struggle... ok I'm exaggerating a little, but there are cheese shops everywhere, with their wonderful stinky aroma's clogging up the warm air. If/ when I finish this thing my first words will likely be 'Red wine and cheese', I may throw a merci in there, but cannot make any promises. As noted in past blogs, I'm not exactly a profound individual.

One day to go. I've never been so scared (discounting the cable car).

For the love of speedos

I've ramped the long runs up in distance over the last month and a half to make sure I'm spending 6-8 hours on my feet and I can feel myself getting stronger. With UTMB only 11 days off I am starting to get pretty excited (see 'Scared' in the Oxford Dictionary, alternatively 'terrified') about the whole idea. One hundred and sixty sixty kilometers. One hundred and sixty six kilometers. One hundred and sixty six kilometers. Yep, doesn't matter how many times I say it, whether I whisper or shout. It still sounds like a bloody long way. As I've said repeatedly before, the furthest I've travelled in one go was 100k. So I'll need to travel two thirds of that again. It's terrifying actually. Bloody terrifiying. I have a confession to make about my long runs. I have not been finishing these runs in good shape. Admittedly Hong Kong is bloody hot with high humidity and this does make a difference to what you can manage, but 6 hours on my feet feels easily enough. I loose so much fluid that it takes me until Wednesday to recover. A few weeks back I drank 6 litres following the run and still didn't pee that day. It really cannot be healthy. So I'm thinking more and more that I have massively overstretched myself. Not good with  only 11 days of rigorous taper to go.

So I am scared. But not as scared as I was when I passed a guy in speedo's hiking the dragons back (that isn't slang of any kind). Now you do see some sights in Hong Kong out on the trails. But the guy in Montrails, white socks and speedos, nothing else, was a step above the norm and had me reeling in shock and awe. But true humiliation came when he overtook me. In my defence I completely blew up, 44k into a 58k long run/ hike (My longest effort in preparation for UTMB). I tend to get beaten by most people when racing trails, but I think being overtaken by a guy only wearing speedos was a new low. I'm not sure it will ever be beaten. It was such an assault on the senses I think it contributed towards a minor breakdown. Even more surprising was that speedo guy was accompanied by his wife. More surprising still was that he had a wife! Clearly she is not regulating his behaviour, and didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest by his wares. Despite dressing in a normal manner herself.

It's not just been speedo based challenges of late either. I've been spending my long runs out in the new territories along the Macclehose trail. Famous for the Hong Kong Trailwalker race each November, the macclehose has some great hills to train on. Traditionally Stage 6 has a big tribe? school? group? party? troupe (?) of monkeys.Actually a group of monkeys is referred to as a mission or a tribe. And there are a lot of the little buggers in Hong Kong. Long and short tail macaques apparently. All I know is that the big males do not appreciate my trail style and seem to take great offence at my presence. They were more upset than 'the Feet' when he first saw my running style. Perhaps I got them wrong and actually they were just concerned that my left hand was still rigid and my right foot was slapping down, They were most likely just taking the piss monkey style. Actually it was quite scary and I had planet of the apes style visions running through my mind of being pulled apart limb from limb. But after a little backing down on my part they let me pass. Well... I say backing down, but actually Black Diamond Z Poles have more than one use. I would imagine the lead monkey is still having trouble sitting without a rubber ring. Although if the park authority were to question me it would be full denial.

So, this final week before the girlfriend and I depart for Europe has seen the usual frenzy of gear buying that I always find so comforting before a major race. A couple of weeks before the start I always develop a genuine belief that somehow buying the latest gadgets makes up for me being a crap runner of limited athletic ability. Somehow the latest compression gear will make up for being 10kg's over weight. The lightest waterproofs will stop me from feeling the ill effects of the big mac I just ate. The fact I now have 2 pairs of Salomon S Lab 4's will somehow mean I won't develop blisters over the course of 100 miles. It's all nonsense. I know that. But somehow I feel better. it's the racing equivalence of comfort food. That somehow if I can't be 15kgs lighter, being 500 US dollars lighter makes up for it.

So it's the story of my racing life repeating itself. Moderate to shite training. All the gear. Very little in the way of idea. The good thing is you'll be able to follow the race through live updates on facebook and twitter. I think they only go in to time and race position. So it should be pretty easy to follow. 'Slow and last' should just about do it. But hopefully I'll get to the finish because I am running for Charideeeee.

On a more serious and emotive note, I am doing this race for charity. You can find the link below. My dad died of cancer in 2010, almost a year to the day when I start UTMB (4 days later i.e. sometime around when search and rescue finds me in the alps blowing on my little whistle). And I would like to make an impact on the cancer ward where he was treated before his death. The charidee e-mail goes out to friends , family and coworkers tomorrow but if anyone would like to contribute or indeed hear a bit more:

http://www.justgiving.com/tom-anderson-dad-/

I'll never get over the loss, but hopefully in my own way, I will make a small difference and through doing something that I love (at least for the first 60k) will remember him in a way that feels fitting. I'll also be doing that with a bottle of wine after the event, but more of that later. For now the training is finished.

Race report to follow.

The bells, the bells

Right, my blogging seems to have suffered in recent months due to excessive workload and a bit of running thrown in for good measure. Apart from my continuing fear of snakes and general overweight bearing the training has been progressing nicely.

I finally got myself a coach for the running, one of HK's better trail runners, to be known as 'the feet' from here on in. We've had 4 sessions so far and it's been an interesting revelation just how easy I've previously been training. Either that or the feet is actually trying to kill me. I thought we were friends. Our first session was a nice 25k jaunt along half of the Hong Kong trail. Generally downhill in elevation but with a couple of nice little hills along the way. As we set off, the Feet dropped in behind me to observe my (lack of) style. His first observations 'why is your right foot slapping?' and 'your left arm sort of sticks out like this'. He then preceded to run down the trail in front of me, looking a little like the hunch back of notre dam. Now I know I'm not a silky smooth runner, more hippo in style than wolf, but frankly I was a little offended. However, I decided to man up and Quasi Mo Do'd off down the trail after the feet. Ego in tatters.

The next two sessions were fantastic, minus the constant calls of 'stop slapping your feet down, run like you're on rice paper grasshopper!' or 'relax the shoulders, what are your arms doing now?!'. But again I manned up and took it all in. There's a surprising amount of technique involved in running, of which I have mastered next to none, so it's nice to get an ongoing commentary on how to improve. However hurtful. Sensei Feet's theory that us trail runners are donkeys compared to the tracks race horses fits kind of well with me, although Donkeys everywhere may be mildly offended at the comparison. I'd started to feel that this donkey has been making real progress, despite the heat and humidity here. Until Thursday's session.

Essentially it was a mix of running, burpees, squats, hil sprints, stairs, plyometrics and other exercises that my body did not recognise and could not cope with. From about 20 minutes into the session I couldn't feel my legs and as we progressed onto pull up type things my arms quickly followed suit. By the end of the session, one and a half hours later I felt a little like someone had attached my head to a pile of jelly. I have to admit I no longer see the feet as a friend. In fact I could hardly see at all, the tears were really hampering my vision! I need to confess here that he's got a few years on me, but it helped me to recognise my genetic ability as I slogged up a 10 minute stair climb, muttering under my breath and he danced alongside me looking slightly bored by my lack of progress, merrily chatting away. 'One of my clients once called me a w**nker when I made them walk up here, but you'd never do that would you mate'... 'Sorry w**nker?' I thought, whilst shouting brightly 'of course not coach!'. It was truly one of the hardest sessions I've done (not helped by a 19k run around the peak the night before- coach has also trained me that the first rule of ultras it to get your excuses in early. In some areas I am a fast learner). It's the first time I've wanted to vomit since my last 6am finish in Wan Chai and has taken 2 days for me to recover. But it'll all be worth it in the end I am sure. I have to say having a coach is making a real difference so for anyone starting out, I recommend the feet, as long as you don't mind simulating death whilst being talked to in a rather chirpy manner.

Distance wise, I've been getting in 80-100k a week so feeling ok, but I'm now very aware how slow I am compared to the 'proper runners' as I like to call them. Very, very slow.

One real positive is that I have found some effective trail shoes for the big lads. I'll be mincing around the Alps in my sparkly red Salomon S Lab 4's this August and I've bought some Black Diamond Ultra Z Poles, which are amazingly light. Not sure how long they'll last with 100kg of altitude induced asthma attack leaning on them, but they are also very shiny so I like them a lot. I'm pretty much a trail crow when it comes to kit. The brighter and shinier the better. And the happier I become, I think I'm pretty much a triathlete when it comes to kit. It makes me a bit ashamed. I'm still thinking what t-shirt to wear as I continue to have nipple related issues on my longest runs, even with liberal amounts of body glide applied. I'm looking for the silkiest t-shirt available for the hundred miler. Nothing to do with the nips. I just like silky shirts. Probably go for a bit of North Face action. Combined with the SLABS, I'll pretty much be an ultra pimp. I'm kind of hoping the Salomon effect may help me out a little as their runners seem to be cleaning up the big 100's so far this year. They may look slightly wrong in their white n tight suits, but they sure are fast. I just look wrong. Hey ho, onwards and upwards.

Been a while

It's been a while since I mustered a blog, between work and getting out running I don't seem to have had the time to sit down and crack one out. A blog that is. The training is going remarkably well, I've managed back to back longer runs for the last 4 weekends, despite some cracking thunderstorms doing their best to disrupt my progress and each week I've managed at least 4 runs during the week. I'm up to between 80 and 100k most weeks at the moment and I've got one eye on my diet in order to make defying gravity around the alps a tad easier. Apparently for every kilo you lose you save minutes from your Marathon time. As a former fat lad if this is true I'll be in deficit by the time UTMB comes around. Completing it in minus half an hour. Beat that Jornet.

As the heat and humidity have truly landed for the Summerr I've been experimenting with a variety of kit and hydration/ food combos as I start to think about the event in August. I tried Newton shoes, which are crap when wet and humid. The nature of the design means the shoe rocks you forward, and as it gets wetter and you hit steep down hills, the inner sole slides right down to the front of the shoe crushing your toes. A design fault if ever there was one for a trail shoe. There aren't that many flat dry trail races that I can think of. Also, the forefoot features their patented lugs to aid a more natural running style. Except on trails again. I found that the lugs feel unbalanced and when I hit roots of rocks tended to be unstable. Finally, the last point of my 'big fat sweaty lads can't wear Newton trail shoes' analysis. The lugs actually make the really steep up hills steeper. Weird, but unless you're running, which I cannot manage on HK's biggest hills (think 500-1000 steps), you actually have to overcome the lugs as well as the gradient. Sod that.

I think I've settled on 2XU shorts for the race but nothing else. They are a bit of a tri brand which is slightly against my religion, but they do seem to help me avoid the dreaded chaffing. As for socks and t-shirts etc I haven't found anything that works yet. Every shirt I try turns into a cheese grater when wet leaving me with nips like minced beef. I used to have a nice silky thin North Face one that worked so going to see if I can track one down. I'm also still looking for a decent small pack that has accessible side pockets for my gels, although I'm considering a strategy I've read about and dissolving them in my drink instead, we'll see. Anyway, however much I read there doesn't seem to be any holy grail of kit. Only of training, do a lot.

I'm also not quite sure what to do about my glasses. I got caught in one of Hong Kong's 'Amber' rain storms at the weekend. It warrants a warning on the local Observatory website that low lands are prone to flooding, there may be landslides and a bit of thunder etc. They need to add a new sentence to their warning that for those who wear glasses you can't see your own nose. Seriously, between the fogging effect of the humidity and the heaviness of the rain I couldn't see a thing. I think it may warrant registering as a disability, maybe I'll get free parking. I was splashing down the trail just waiting to hit a root and go over the edge. And yet I loved it. Running in the rain is so much more pleasurable than running in the humidity.

I know I bang on about it, but I'm getting through 4.5 litres every 25 or so K. It's impossible to stay hydrated but the drinks that seem to work best are those with the 4:1 ratio. Some protein as well as Carb. I'm settling on the accelerade at the moment. The pure carb drinks seem to give me a bit of tummy trouble. Does a Nottheultramarathon man sh1t on the trail. It appears so, especially when fueling on gatorade and gels. Suddenly. Violently. On occassion without warning. How is it that whenever you take a dump in the open that there is always, without fail, a full family and dog coming around the corner. Honestly, you can go ages without seeing people when the weather is bad, but take a dump and several families will appear at once as if from nowhere. I think they coordinate somehow. It makes you feel surprisingly vulnerable when you've got your arse hanging out.

The other issue that continues to freak me out is that the heat brings out the snakes. I mentioned how bravely I tend to deal with snakes in a previous blog i.e. not at all. But last week I stumbled across snakus maximus. Father to a massive baby snake, husband to a.... You get the picture. Luckily I'd switched to my 4:1 drink formula or no doubt several families of hikers would have appeared. I'm not sure what kind of snake it was, but it had a head the size of a farm animal. It was definitely viewing me as a food item. Luckily it appeared to have just eaten a small child so it wasn't up for any more. I was thankful for the kids sacrifice and carried on my way.

So, my weeks training last week hit 100k. A lot less than good runners, but building up to being respectable. I've subbed in some tempo runs, hill repeats and this week am training twice a day Tues, Weds and Thurs. Hoping to get myself up to 110 and keep increasing right up to 3 weeks before UTMB (with a dip every fourth week for recovery/ beer). I'm still no more confident I can finish this thing, doing 100 miles training in a week seems well beyond me at present, let alone in one go at altitude. Hey ho, I'm not in it to win it, just to have a bit of an adventure and raise some money in memory of my dad. More on that one in the next post as I sort out my charidee piece. For some reason, even when it's for a worthy cause, I always feel a bit of a prat raising money for charity. I don't like to ask people for their hard earner cash when I am actually doing something that makes me so happy, but then I remember that after 50k I always have a slow dawning realisation that I am too big, too slow and going to suffer massively, so please donate once I get it up and running.

This sunday is my first UK fathers day without one, so it's going to be a tough day. One to get through. I plan to have a pint of guinness, think of the good times and get the charity page launched in his memory. I won't need any more motivation to get round the UTMB course, even if I have to crawl on my hands and knees. Which isn't beyond the realms of possibility!

It's not dark yet, but it's getting there

A better week of training for me last week. I decided that with the heat and humidity ramping up I'd only do one long run outside this weekend so I started my Sunday run feeling fresher than usual. The weather was more forgiving this weekend, low twenties, but the humidity was something else. I drank around 6 litres of fluid in five and a half hours of running and walking (it's hot and I am fat!) and I still ran out 45 minute before the end. I'm developing what I like to call 'The fear' about the UTMB in August. The more I think of it, the little matter of166k and 9.6k of elevation gain, the more I think I've over stretched myself. I'm not sure if it's a race for mortals, more suited to the ultra gods. My 40k effort on Sunday felt tough enough and it only had an elevation gain of around 500 metres or so, pretty puny when compared to the Alps, but I guess I have another 3 months to get my hill legs, shift gears and also about 20 pounds before I think about tackling the race.

I'm giving serious thoughts to kit and nutrition now and I would like it noted here that I will be wearing shorts. It may not seem like a serious revelation, however, I have to make a comment about TNF 100 in Australia this past weekend. A few friends from Racing the Planet events took part so I've seen a few of the photos pop up on facebook. Can anyone explain what's going on with the Salomon runners and their white Lycra? Is this now de riguer in ultra running? What's wrong with a nice pair of shorts and a tub of vaseline? I know they are all very serious and fast, there's no need for white Lycra. Let's leave a little to the imagination. Leave the ladies wanting a little more if you know what I am saying.

On the nutrition front I tried some new gels this weekend called stingers or something similar. Honey with some vitamins and I found them much more palatable than the usual gels. They would have been lovely with some hot water and lemon. Not sure I am cut out for this ultra malarkey.

My other thought at the moment is to pole or not to pole. I think I'll pole. I'm not expecting quite the foot disasters I have had in multi-day races. I'm hoping my new lighter weight infrastructure (that weight loss thing again), no heavy rucksack, no sand and less swollen feet mean that the tootsies will be ok. However, I reckon this one will be tough on the knees and ankles so I'll probably take poles to keep the pressure off the knees.

I also need a new day sack for the race. I've been using the OMM 'the last drop' 10L for long training efforts, but it doesn't have side pockets which makes it bloody frustrating when you're trying to fish out a gel every half hour. Any recommendations for a decent small bag, greatly appreciated preferably with side pockets for bottles and pouches for gels, enduralytes, cocaine, methadone etc. On the kit theme, I have a bit of a shoe problem as well. My Asics aren't working for me, too hard and not stable enough, I can't wear the Newtons for more than 30 minutes before I lose all form and they throw me off balance. I was thinking off the Salomon S Labs, but I would probably be arrested if I went with the white lycra.

Saying all of this, none of it may matter after this week. I've got my medical booked for the doctor to sign the health certificate that this race insists upon. I'm still hoping that they'll let me enter the race if my doctor writes that there is a high risk of death. Slightly fat asthmatic intends to run 100 miles over mountains, at altitude. I'm a little worried that the doctor might just leave a smiley. Fingers crossed for a signature.

It's not dark yet, but it's getting there.

Summer is all over me

I'm resigning myself to the fact that the Hong Kong summer is upon us. For the last 5 days of so it's been hovering between 29 and 32 degrees and between 80-95% humidity. I've resigned myself to the fact that I will now be sweating continuously until October, unless I stay inside. I'm a fairly hazardous environment to be around in the summer months in Hong Kong. I seem to create my own micro climate and am prone to flash floods. I am a sweaty man at the best of times but I now move into territory previously uncharterred, untouched and generally unwanted. It's a sad life. Normally by about August I am ready to end it all, just to be able to stop sweating so it'll be good to head off to France for this race.

On the down side it makes Long runs really tough as I found at the weekend. I think I'll be spending a lot of my longest sessions now doing even more walking than normal. I seem to blow up after about 3 hours as a rule. On my long run this Sunday, I did 35k and managed to drink 6 litres of sports drink. I know that sounds ridiculous and most literature says that the body can only process around a litre an hour but it has taken me at least another 24 hours to rehydrate.

Also, the heat has really brought the snakes out. I am no expert, but I always think it is safe to assume that snakes in tropical climates can kill you. At elast twice. So I prefer to stay away from them. However, they always seem to be sat in places where you can't actually see them until you're nearly stood on top of the little (or very big) buggers. It happenned to me twice on Sunday, the first time I rounded a sharp bend and although moving slightly slower than sloth, I very nearly trod on it. A quick change of shorts, a dab of lube and I was back on my way. 10k and masive heat exhaustion later I was meandering up a flight of stairs to the dragons back on the Hong Kong trail and nearly trod a grey one (scientific name). I didn't have another change of shorts in my bag so once I had climbed down from the tree I found myself in, it was a quick dab of body glide and on my way again.

Anyway, apart from snakes and humidity it was a fairly strong week of training:
Monday- 7 miles
Tuesday- 7Miles
Wednesday- Gym Bike 35k
Thursday- rest
Friday- Gym Bike 10 x 1 minute full effortm 1 minute rest, plus 10 minutes hard either side
Saturday- Run 2.45
Sunday- Run 4.45, a change of shorts and 2 snakes.

Time to get a coach

It's been a while since I blogged on my not so extensive training for the races in June and August. Since the vet highlighted my distinct lack of fitness I would like to say I've been hard at training. However, the reality is that I just got back from 9 booze and food filled days in the UK, visiting friends and the family. It was a great break, the weather was amazing, not a cloud in the sky and between 25-27 degrees the whole time. However, as much as I enjoyed it, the good times are over and I really need to focus on getting some quality training in and perhaps more importantly, watching my diet and cutting out... ok down, on the drink. I've developed a real taste for red wine over the last 6 months and have managed to convince myself that because it is better for me than beer, it's ok. Well I guess it's time to acknowledge that not many endurance athletes fuel themselves on Steak and Red wine. Ok none. So it's whole grains, salads and less 'treats' for me from now on. In fact, they are genuinely going to become treats again, as opposed to regulars. I've been a little too heavy on the cakes this last few months.

So with my resolutions set, I need to get properly training. Hong Kong is noticeably warmer and humid again which means the sweat fest is back on. I've had to start carryng water for anything over 45 minutes and where I have been doing longer runs with a hand held and one more on the belt, I'll now take the camelback with a few litres. I've started to have a think about what electrolytes work for me and don't upset my stomach (none so far!). I'm actually leaning towards a diluted gatorade or pocari (asian equivalent) as my preferred drink, I struggle to eat in the heat, so tend to lean towards getting extra calories from my fluids.

I'm still weaving in a little stationary bike into the mix, intervals 2 times a week followed by the treadmill (adding an extra 1 minute interval each week) and I am attempting to up the speed on the run afterwards. I am now only slightlky slower than a tortoise.

The UTMB requires that I submit a medical certificate stating that I am fit enough to take part and won't keel over during the race. I'm searching for a dishonest doctor who'll sign such an attestation. I'm more a fan of the disclaimer myself, the approach of some other well known races that I've taken part in. I refer to is as the 'you may die but it's not our fault' approach which I am totally comfortable with. As I may die, but only have myself and my penchant for cakes to blame. Even more likely as an asthmatic training in the Hong Kong air, whose run out of becotide and low on ventolin. Hey ho, let's see what a couple of months of dedication to exercise rather than pies does for me.

We have a couple more long weekends in a row in HK due to a number of unique public holidays. In total we have 4 in a row and one more in early June to ease us back into a full working week. I'm hoping to use these days off to get myself into the sort of shape where a doctir will happily sign my attestation withough questioning his/ her oath and ethics.

Ironman v's Ultra runner. Epic Fail

I am sure most people have seen the ironman v's ultra runner video that has been doing the rounds on you tube for the last couple of months. It goes something like:

'I am an ultra runner, all of my clothes come from TK max with enough storage for 3 flapjacks'
'You need to be earning six figures to buy a bike that weighs as much as my breakfast'
'I like ultra running because it takes me to places I have never been to before'
'In my most recent triathlon I was ranked 11th placed left handed Male aged 33-37 and a half who live in the thames valley region'

It's genius. But I have to say on my long run this Sunday my mate, Dave the Vet, gave me a lesson in running. To be fair he is coming off the back of a 10.40 ironman and I am coming off the back of two months of injury, too many steaks and more than a little pinot noir, so I should have known what was coming. Last week was also my biggest training week in some time, so I started sore, Anyway, even making my excuses I realise I have a long way to go and my fitness is not where it needs to be considering my 100k is two months away. Time to get serious about training, well, after a 9 day break in the UK anyway!

The last week of training was pretty strong, I managed:

Monday 7 miles (11k)
Tuesday 11 miles (17k)
Wednesday 11 miles (17k)
Thursday 7 miles (11k)
Friday 1 hour bike (34k)
Saturday 2 hour hike with the girlfriend
Sunday approx 16.5/17miles I think, wasted and a slightly embarrassing injury

I actually had to walk the last 5k or so as I seem to have strained my right buttock. Nothing to do with the triathlete and his Lycra I can assure you. I have a strange shooting pain in what feels like the joint of my hip and leg. Either way, I am walking funny this week. Maybe it was too big a jump in training in the space of a few weeks, maybe too many big hills, anyway I have made the decision to get myself a coach. I'm going to get one of those online ones, mainly because that's what my friend did and he is now considerably faster than me. A couple of trips to Chin-Zilla my favourite, surprisingly strong, massage lady should sort it out. When I was training for other events I found a weekly massage works great guns for minor strains, particularly those linked to a heavy training schedule.

On a positive note I have continued my run of having toilets in the right place at the right time, so I've not had to participate in the other ultrarunners past time of crapping in the great outdoors. It may sound odd to non runners but the effect of a diet of sports drinks and gels has some startling effects. Few of which are pleasant.

In future weeks I shall post my new training plan and progress against it so that hopefully in future we'll see fails on a less epic scale than on Sunday.

Sundown, signed up!

My training is looking pretty rosy for the week so far. I'm really getting into the running thing again and my foot is responding quite well to the instruction it now faces, to bear my weight again. I can't blame the foot for complaining a little, it's more weight than most have to carry, but in general, apart from a few 'twangs' it feels almost as good as before.

Although I have loads of friends, honestly... ok 3, who say they will comment on the blog, they never do. So I am inviting any lost physios or previously broken footed runners to tell me what the hell is going on with this 'twang'. It's a weird feeling, it doesn't hurt but literally feels like someone is pinging a double base along the side of my foot. Assuming it is ligament related and hopefully not permanently damaging, I decided to keep running on it like any sensible educated young man would.

So the week so far. I managed 2.15 on Saturday which is the longest single run I have done since I broke the foot. Not much in time or distance, but I did manage to run to the peak up old peak road. Anyone who has walked up it knows it's pretty steep, so to get 16 stone running up it pleased me no end.

This week I signed up for the Sundown Marathon in Singapore, 100k overnight. For anyone who hasn't been before, Singapore is bloody hot and humid so I imagine it would have to be overnight. There are no seasons in Singapore, it's either bloody hot and raining or bloody hot and sunny. Sometimes it is bloody hot and about to rain. Suffice to say seasonal variety in the weather is lacking. Or, once a day for about 10 hours, it's night time. So we run at night. Should be tough, but a good motivator to get in shape before UTMB.

I signed up for the Sundown Marathon with a great friend of mine, John 'Panda' Key. We did Atacama together last year, which was tough, but a one dayer should be more of a laugh. I say we did Atacama together, John was actually about 10 hours faster than me, but we did at least sleep in the same tent. His training had been much more committed than mine, but I am hoping his commitment to steak and red means I won't be humiliated too badly this time around. Surely it's impossible to be beaten by 10 hours on a 100k, so I am hoping to see improvement!

As a prelude to the race we entered into a massive endurance effort on Sunday. We set off around midday and I wrapped up around 6pm, John carried on until 7.45 apparently. I believe the stats of this particular session were somewhere around several bottles of red each, lamb, steak and a couple of beers. To test myself, I ate nothing green. I did it! We really but the pedal down, pushed on past our limits and when the going got tough, we put our heads down and just carried on. Sterling stuff eh? (sorry for the panda bit, the Korean thought John looked just like a big panda on Christmas day, post lunch, I need to get my own back for getting whupped every race somehow!)

So, 2 and a half months, inclusive of the rugby 7's, to prepare for my first 100k race since last July. I'm looking forward to it already. The week so far:

Saturday- 13 hilly miles
Sunday- um... 7000 calories
Monday- 7 miles and a little groggy
Tuesday- 5.3 miles, including 6x30 second hill sprints
Wednesday- 7 miles (felt shockingly awful after sprint session on Tuesday, is this normal?)
Thursday- worked late, burger and 2 glasses or pinot noir, 1 Cab Sav. At least it's not beer right? Antioxidants? No, ok.
Friday- planned 13 miles

Funnily enough, Krupicka's blog is entitled 'infirm' and he has run further than me. You've got to laugh, I felt quite proud!

In current affairs I saw the Dalai Lama retired from politics today. A real shame as I thought he stood a real chance against the con dems by the next general election.

Let the training commence

The injury finally seems to be passing, like the wind, and I'm going to start getting into some proper training again. Since fracturing my foot in an innocuous 'talking to the girlfriend whilst hiking' incident on New Years Day I've not been able to run consistently. 5 weeks off completely sat on my already ample arse contemplating throwing a stationary bike out of the window, have now been replaced with five times weekly runs and a couple of bike sessions.

Last week was my first week of solid training and I incorporated a really good session of hill sprints into my training for the first time. I've been diligently reading up on proper ultra training and everyone seems to do one or two speed sessions a week so I am following suit. Next week I am going to venture on to the track for my first ever track session with some local ironman types. Can't say I am looking forward to it, but it probably has to be done. However, the session last week consisted of 10 x 30 second hill sprints. Ok I am exaggerating. It was 'going' to consist of 10 x 30 second hill sprints until I realised exactly how sick that makes you feel. I was on number 6 when I thought I was going to vomit, so declined the last 4 and jogged off home. I'm heading back to the hill to tackle the full ten this week so I'll let you know how it goes. The other thing to note about hill sprints is that you look many times more stupid than you do jogging. They made me feel very self conscious. I'd be sprinting (I use this term loosely, probably club runner  marathon pace) up the hill and taxis kept slowing down to offer me assistance. I'm not making this up, it happened twice. As they were Cantonese and I am not, I', still not sure why. Maybe they were concerned about my health (I did feel like I was dying) or if they thought I was being chased by a big, fat and slow predator, but twice they tried to usher me into the safety of their cab! I had awful images of them heading straight to the St Mary's hospital up the road and depositing me in casualty thinking I was having a heart attack. The doctors would quickly realise that I just have a low VO2 Max and give me some ventolin.

It got me thinking about how bloody stupid the whole thing is. I keep reading about the need to set goals, push ourselves to the edge etc. I think we're all just a little insane. I am a young man (relatively) in my early thirties and I chose to spend my time running as fast as I can up a small hill. It's pretty weird behaviour, and brings me to question what is normal. Can't answer that one, but it clearly isn't me. Sad as it is, I'll be buggered if I am not to be found on the same little hill tomorrow night, running my little (too little cardiovascular capacity that's for sure) heart out.

I mentioned last week that many ultra runners blogs had gone a little serious, dealing with 'issues' in the sport. Issues that at least 100 other people globally care deeply about. Well there has been progress. I am now noting a little hypocrisy in some of the blogging going on. The previously spiritual types, all caught up in meaning, seem to be showing a little commercial side. I'm enjoying it, but some of the other spiritual types are not happy. I sense division in the ranks of the ultras. The spiritualists v's those who will only turn up if they are paid goddamn it. They want cashola, the sweet green... sorry I mean to run against the best... cough. It looks like there will be a split between those who want to compete and others who want to hug each other on the way round. I'd like to add my two cents to this debate. I don't care and judging by the fact I only get a couple of hundred readers a month, neither does anyone else. Although to be fair that is probably just that no one cares about me. Sob. A quick note to the 50 or so people avidly discussing this, most of these races have about 100 people taking part. I love them, it's my hobby and although I am rubbish at it, I just enjoy run/walking. However, the fact is, no one else gives a shit. Not even my mum as long as I don't hurt myself. But it doesn't matter, it's all cool. I'll go for a run and forget about it.

I'm going to finish by raising an issue of my own and a cheery little anecdote that'll bring a warm fuzzy feeling to your heart and a tear to your eye. Most runners blogs touch on it (not literally, although I have been known to get a bit on my leg every now and again), but won't seem to embrace the fact that we all encounter them at one time or another. The shits. Joggers Tummy. They got me on my mid week run last week. I am sure most runners have experienced that awful sinking feeling when you're running on roads, surrounded by cars, no where to go (literally) and yet you just have to. It's happened to be before and it'll happen again no doubt. But this time, just when I thought all was lost and I was going to have to moon several passing people carriers, scarring people for life. I stumbled across a toilet. I kid you not. I run this route several times a week and I had never in my life noticed these toilets. And on this night, at my time of need, the clouds parted, the moon shone (not mine) and some public toilets appeared. I couldn't believe it, I half expected that serene music to start, you know the stuff, when they show Heaven in films. Ahhhh ahhh ahhh. And they were clean. The toilets that is, not the films, although they were too. And... they had toilet roll. I've never been so happy on a run. They talk of endorphins, but they are nothing compared to the happinness that Kleenex brings when you're about to cack yourself. So there you have it, I can see it as the next advertising campaign. Silky soft, there for you when you're about to poo yourself. I should work in advertising, no need for a cute puppy with me on the scene. Anyway.

Vampire Black Ops Trail Runner

I hope you'll forgive the title, no one reads my blog and I was struck by an idea as I wandered around Dymocks book store (Hong Kongs Borders, only solvent) earlier. It seems to me that nearly every book in the shop featured either vampires or some kind of hardcore stone-cold killer. I thought of changing the title of the blog itself to Vampire running, but then realised that I don't really want this to be read by a bunch of hormonal teenage girls. I love the fact that the story of the vampire seems to have become a teen romance genre. Now, I can appreciate the sexuality of the whole blood sucking thing, if you're a bit of a weirdo. By I'm not quite sure how vampires have become 'good guys'. I like my vampire to a bit more of a stone cold killer myself. The baddie. A bit more black ops.

So I thought about Black Ops Running, but thought this would either attract a bunch of hormonal guys, those who are looking for the latest computer game where they get to shoot hundreds of strangers. Or alternatively, it may attract those who genuinely like guns. Those who at some point will consider going on some sort of real rampage. Neither of which I am overly interested in becoming acquainted with. And then I realised that these black ops agent has also become the good guy. I killed loads of people... but it was necessary. And somehow, it's just... quite cool. I feel a little ashamed of myself for writing that, but it's true.

I'm definitely not a vampire for two reasons. 1. they don't exist 2. They are fast runners apparently. I prove week-in, week-out that I am not a vampire. Mostly I like to run very slowly in the sunshine. Occasionally I push myself up to a pace that we might call mediocre, but only when there's a race on. I am also not a special operations hard core killer. I'd always fancied myself as a stone cold killer, but then I stumbled across Human Resources and felt it might offer a more stable career. Less likely to be killed and all that. Sometimes, when ensuring the best person is selected for a role, my eyes narrow, my hand twitches towards my inner pocket and then I reveal my pen, which I use to take copious and detailed notes. But generally I never have to kill people with my bare hands. Well not very often anyway.

Anyway, ever though I'm neither a vampire or killer, I am running again. Which is lovely. Accepting that my life is a little more mundane I've been pretty excited to be out running again. I've managed my first proper weeks training this year and I am back to thinking that I may actually have some chance of getting half way round the Ultra Trail Du Mont Blanc in August. Don't get me wrong, I'm still bricking it, possibly more so since I remembered how hard a moderately hilly ten miles is, but at least I can take comfort in the fact I can run again. Over the last week I've managed:

-  3x7 miles
-  1x10miles
-  1 gym session of 25k on bike, 20 minutes run

Not enough to be thinking of doing any damage at the the UTMB, or even getting close to finishing. But enough to make me feel happy that I'm on the way. It also gets me out of the gym and more importantly the pubic boufing changing rooms. I have to confess, I'm not missing it at all.

I'm not sure if anyone has noticed it, but there seems to be a proliferation of very serious blogs on running over the last month. I seem to to have noticed a lot of blogs on subjects such as the environment (which is perfectly fine obviously), big shiny races (also perfectly fine) and the spirituality of running (not fine, go to yoga). My favourite though, is the number of people who keep writing that we need to 'remember why we run'. I'd have thought it is obvious why we all run, it's because we're not vampires or stone cold killers and life is a little mundane. Anyway, I'm off to have a nice cup of tea and read my CIA Blacks Ops Novel.

Up and running

Ok, so it induced a migraine but I am up and running and on my way to the 2011 UTMB. 20 minutes on a treadmill isn't exactly tough going but my foot felt fine, no pain during or after, which I am delighted about. I'll look to gradualy add more k's over the next few weeks before I hopefully get round to competing in one of the 5 races I enterred late last year. I am certainly carrying a few more pounds than I was at the beginning of the year so I'll need to do something about that as well. The ferrero rocher training plan that I have been on has been tough, but somebody had to do it, there were times when I didn't want another chocolate, but I manned up and took another down. Sometimes I had to have another cup of tea just to stomach its nutty goodness. Now however, it's time to look forwards at the training I have to gear up to over the next 6 months.

Next weekend is the Hong Kong island King of the Hills which may have come too soon for me (or too late some might argue, by about ten years), however, I should be able to dawdle around the half marathon and aim to complete the full one on the final race of the season, scheduled for the 6th March. It'll be tough but I had been doing plenty of exercise up until the new year when I fractured the foot, so hopefully there is at least some residual fitness there. I am also going to look for a 100k race around May/June time to help me focus on the training required to complete the hundred miler in late August, but I don't have any ideas as yet.

As I mentioned briefly, I somehow managed to give myself a migraine with my little jog yesterday. I'm not sure if it was a result of the 4 large whiskeys I had on Friday night or the sheer delirium of being able to jog again, but it's always a rather unpleasant feeling when I pick one of these up. I lose sight in my right eye and then start to slur before failing completely to string together sentences. I'd met up with a mate of mine who comented; as I stumbled towards him, slurring my words, bumping into random objects, that he couldn't tell the difference. A little unfair I thought, but being as we spend most of our time accompanied by a decent bottle of vino or several pints of the ambar nectar, I could sort of see his point.

A side effect of the migraine yesterday was sober attendance at Dave the Vets BBQ this afternoon. I'm not one for excessive consumption on a Sunday, but I would normally have a few beers to oil the wheels. A social lubricant if you will. Today made me realise how little fun I am when sober. It's quite a tough realisation to have when you're 31, to realise that you're a little dull, but it is one I have to accept I guess. I am fortunate that a few of them are in full flow preparing for Ironman New Zealand. From what I read we shouldn't really speak with each other, let alone be friends; them with their shiny kit and shaved limbs, me with my smelly muddy kit and body hair (coiffed I might add). Two different breeds and yet there we were chatting merrily about our sporting differences. It's nice that people from such different cultures can get along...

Now that I can start to jog again I've decided to get a plan put together by a coach so I'll outline that in future blogs, but I'll ease myself back into the running. I intend to continue on the stationary bike a fair bit over the next few weeks so as not to over work the foot. I think I may have become slightly attached to the stationary bike. Peddalling along, never getting anywhere, there's something quite poetic about it all. But it's probably not going to get me around the alps in one piece, so I'll gradually incorporate more and more running into my schedule.

In anticipation of my running getting back into full swing, I bought myself some stupidly expensive trainers this week. I've decided to give the Newtons a go as they mimic the barefot motion whilst providing plenty of support. I've received mixed reviews as apparently they are really focused on making good runners better. We'll see what sort of impact they have on a crap runner. Hopefully they don't exaccerbate trends and make me 'crapper'. Not something I have ever needed help with. The Newtons have another downside that I am not sure I can overcome. They are the ugliest trainers I have ever seen. Some kind of psychedelic fluro green monstrocity. I have to be honest and say I kind of liked them. However, my girlfriend told me that if she had made the mistake of marrying me, she would rectify this, purely for me for wearing them in public. Let's just say I'll be going running very eary in the morning. So a quick warning, should any really slow UFO's be sighted over Hong Kong, it's just me, getting back into the swing.

For now I am just excited to be able to run again and start properly on my journey towards the Alps in August. It's going to be awesome.

Training summary:

February 6th- Run 20 minutes on a treadmill, 180k on the stationary bike.

I can hear the Apls shuddering in fear and anticipation at rumours I may be running... or should that be participating.

January Summary- Sods Law 1- Nick Running 0

I've worked incredibly hard this month at being both injured and ill. My body has fought for a healthy balance between being broken and infected and has really done rather well. I rounded off January with a nasty bout of flu. Not the recurring man flu that I have been unable to shift for the past two months but a proper bout of my-body-and-mind-hurt-so much-i-cannot-move-an-inch type of flu. For the last couple of days I have laid prone in bed or on the sofa, so ill that I couldn't even read the text on my blackberry, let alone get out and exercise. It has rounded off what has been, without a doubt, the worst month of training I have had since I developed a Mars Bar addiction age 14. Not like that, just eating them. And all this since the idea crossed my mind to enter, and subsequently qualify for, the Ultra Trail Du Mont Blanc. It wasn't really what I had in mind when I enterred the race. Well, to be honest I was drunk when I decided to enter the race, so really all I had on my mind, other than trying to run 100 miles in one go, was a large mixed Ebineezers Kebab.

I mentioned I had enterred a whole host of local races to kickstart my build up to the big one and this weekend I missed yet another of those. Hong Kong's 50k Greenpower Hike. The Hong Kong trail is 50k long and winds from Victoria Peak around the contours of the island, finishing at a pleasant little beach towards the far east of the island. Due to its convenience it has become a home from home to me over the last couple of years and I was really disappointed not to be able to take part. As well as my knowledge of the trail, another reason I like the race is the name they give to anyone who finishes under 6 hours. This was to be my first year as a 'great hiker'. I've never been called a great anything before when it come to running, (well I have, but great plonker just isn't the same), so I'll have to requalify next year in order to race my first Greenpower as a great hiker in 2013.

I've decided that after this ordeal I may pursue a new career as an unofficial pharmacist. No, not a drug dealer, but maybe I'll start some sort of herbalist cult. I am now taking, in no particular order: Effervescent Vitamin C 1000mg 3 x day. Eccinacea 2x Day, Ventolin, Becotide, Hammer Tissue Rejuvinate, Omega 3 x 2, Panadol Cold and Flu every 4 hours. So far all its achieved is to give me a hair trigger stomach, but I am remaining positive. As always. Can't you tell. It is taking me 15 mnutes just to take all my pills in the morning and it's bankrupting me, but if I can shift this flu and get back in the gym by tomorrow, it'll have been worth it.

I am hoping that this is the week I get back out and do a little hiking. This week is Chinese New Year, we're enterring the year of the rabbit (which sounds promising), so we get public holidays this Thursday and Friday. I am hoping it is to be my first weekend of hiking since the fracture. Nothing too tough, but having some fun exploring some of Hong Kongs further reaches and islands. I'll write a bit about the trails I go and explore next weekend. I think people who don't know Hong Kong are always surprised that there is more here than just the famous harbour front skyline.

As I have no training to write up on, I'm off back to my DVD boxset of series 2 of Mad Men. It's awesome, I cannot believe I have missed it up until now. Unfortunately it seems to come with a minimum of 4 Ferrero Rocher, and not an ambassador in sight. No one is spoiling me. I have no idea whether a ship went off course back in September, or whether the chinese are famous for their love of nutty chocolate, or perhaps parties at the embassy, or maybe they are 'Made in China'; but Ferrero Rocher are absolutely everywhere at the moment. Mountains of the buggers, just sitting there in their golden splendour, taunting me about my lack of running and how Mad Men just won't be as good without their chocolatey creamy goodness. I admit it, I have no willpower and with these Ferrero Rocher I am really spoiling myself. In more ways than one.

I'm not going to bother with the ometers until I can go a couple of weeks without being ill. I feel my potential victory in 2011's stationary bike world championships slipping away with every day I am flu bound at home, let alone completing the UTMB. So, in summary for January, in my quest to be an ultra king:
- Run 0 Kilometers
- Developed some nasty saddle sores
- 0 elevation gain, several pounds Ferrero Rocher gain
- Man flu
- The flu
- I have learned how to coiff my bush rather effectively.

So not all bad.

Fluffing the bush

19th January- Running in 2011- 0 Kilometres

Not really the figure I ws hoping for as I started out on the journey to my first hundred miler. I was sort of hoping I would be well on my way to being a leaner meaner trail running machiner by now, but instead the only exercise I am getting is through a combination of climbing the walls in frustration and my quest to become the fastest stationary cyclist in Hong Kong. I coverred 180k on the bike last week which is ok but nothing special.

I really cannot wait to be back outside but I don't want to risk the foot on the roads just yet. I think I could comfortably double the time I am cycling each week but I cannot get over the sheer boredom of sitting in a such a sterile environment for hours on end. I sit, legs a spinning, staring out the window at the trees (all 3 of them in central Hong Kong) shimmering in the yellow poluted haze. Ah, what I would give to be breathing the sweet soupy carbon monoxide again. The trees have to be nearby as visibility in Hong Kong is actually less than 8k for 30% of the time and they estimate that polution responsible for 90000 hospital admissions a year, and not a small number of premature deaths. And yet I'd give anything to be back out there in it. Odd. Maybe it's because I believe big Donald T (Tsang not Trump) who, in his efforts to sell Hong Kong to investors, tells us that as people live a long time in Hong Kong, we must have the best environment. Sod the scientific research, Don says it's ok! Whoo! Genius. I'm on Don's bus.

I think one of the major drivers to get my ass back outside is my failure to deal with what I can only describe as a culture clash that is starting to cause me a bit of anxiety. The local out and proud approach to nudity in the changing rooms is causing me some minor issues. Not because you don't get naked folks in the changing rooms back in Blightey. But rarely have I seen anyone stand naked, fluffing up their bush with a hairdryer at home. Here in Hong Kong it the standard practice. I can't get over how overwhelmingly proud some of the guys look when they see the volume they have created. And to be fair, there are some impressive bushes down there, I can attest, truly impressive feats of bushdome. I don't know if it is jealousy that generates this feling, my bush just doesn't compare, but it just seems so wrong. I've used those hairdryers for my head, the one sat on my neck. The thought that only moments before it could have been volumising another mans pubes just makes me feel uncomfortable. Even a little quesy.

I'd like to start a mini campaign to stop this practice. There's just no need. Keep it to the privacy of your own home, the unique bond between husband and wife, that's the place for such things. Not the hairdryer that I have to hold alarmingly close to my nose (which is not small). Please, I implore you old dudes of Hong Kong, it's not a sign of wealth and prosperity.

Anyway, I believe the draw for the Ultra Trail Du Mont Blanc (one of the qualifying criteria was a massive bush) took place on the 18th and I've not heard anything, This could certainly be simplifying my decision making on which hundred miler I'll be training for. Fingers crossed!!

So the ometers:

Likelihoodofpassingoutby60milesonamountainandcallingmymumintears-ometer- I'll have used up all my credit by 50 miles

Likelihoodofrunning50percentofthedistancesofotherpeoplewhoblogaboutultratraining-ometer- January 19th- Run 0 miles so far (I checked out Krupicka again, 180 miles... last week. Bloody hell. I have enterred the stationary bike world championships and am confident of placing.
Mondrian was a minimalist. Keep it in art.

Ever so slightly faster than average healing- call me wolverine

I imagined the following post:

"It's January the 13th, unlucky for some. But not me it would appear. Today was the day I confirmed that I am in fact Wolverine from the X-Men. Last Friday I had my fracture confirmed by the GP, today when the fracture doc phoned he says he can't find one. I'd always wanted super powers, but I can't say that 'slightly faster healer than average' was top of the list. I'd always hoped for amazing speed, strength or the men's favourite x-ray vision. But I guess I'll have to settle for healing quickly and at least it won't get me arrested".

Instead I had a fracture specialist telling me I couldn't run for another couple of weeks. The good new was that the fracture was minor, the bad news was I had no super powers. 'Are you sure', I said. 'Yes' he said. 'I am not wolverine then?', I said. 'No' he said. 'Whatever', I said.

It'll be a while before I can run but I can at least start to turn the legs over again on the bike in the gym (which I sort of started a few days ago, but would deny if the doctor asked). Lucky she is very accommodating. The doctor, not the bike. I am currently settled on 0 of 2 races that I have signed up for in Hong Kong this year in my preparation for the biggies in August. It's more than a little frustrating, but I have friends making their way through far worse injuries so I shouldn't complain. But I will most probably.

Last Sunday it was the second of this years North Face King of the Hills Series which I was really looking forward to trying out. I guess it's Hong Kong's most genuine 'mountain Marathon series' and for one reason or another I have never got round to entering. This year has been disrupted by the foot injury and also a bout of very severe man flu which meant I missed the first one. Man flu is regarded with a great deal of contempt by most women as they have never experienced it. Often they refer to it as the common cold. However, it is far more severe, possibly life threatening. I did actually die from it a couple of times, but being wolverine (the GP and specialist are in denial), I recovered well.

The King of the Hills races take in some of Hong Kong's more remote areas and lesser used paths. A lot of my friends whom I might call 'proper runners' rave about them. The series seems really popular this year with over a hundred doing the longer races and nearly 300 on the half. Great to see and really hoping I make it to at least one of them. We also have the Greenpower 50k Hike at the end of January, which of course has been adopted by the local runners to see who gets around quickest. Today's news means I can't take part so I'll probably go away for the weekend with the girlfriend (aka Korean Amy) as the following week is Chinese New year, every cloud and all that.

Good luck to all those doing the HK 100 this weekend, I'm thinking of popping over to see some of the runners pass by. Rumour has it that a couple of top ultra runners from far away lands are taking part so it'll be great to see.

So my weeks (well 2011's!) training so far:

January 1st-14th- An assortment of drugs that could take down an elephant, mainly anti inflammatory from the doctors, Hong Kong doctors love a drug or eight as a solution to most problems. So three times a day I am taking down a diclofenac, omega 3's, Hammer Tissue Rejuvenate, Vitamin C (for the man flu) and icing 3 times a day. I'm also trying to smash in as many veggies as possible, especially broccoli because that's what Lance did. And you can't argue with Lance.

The weeks training:

Monday- 30k very light resistance on the bike
Tuesday- 2 pinot noirs, 3 Cabernet sauvignons and a burger. Delicious. I was first to finish.
Wednesday- 40k very light resistance, resistance setting was lighter than tiger when a waitress knocks.
Thursday- 30k light. Lighter than a really light thing at midday on the lightest... whatever.

The ometers (or is it ometres) are back to monitor my weekly progress towards the big race (whichever that may be):

Likelihoodofpassingoutby60milesonamountainandcallingmymumintears-ometer- I'm entering her number in my phone as we speak. Mummy!

Likelihoodofrunning50percentofthedistancesofotherpeoplewhoblogaboutultratraining-ometer- January 14th- Run 0 miles so far. I have to pray that the organisers are ok with me trying to get round on a stationary bike.

Minimalism shiminalism. 5th metatarsals suck.

Vote on my survey. If you think this blog will save the world I'm with you. Like Bill and Ted.

2011 races and a fractured foot

My 2011 new years resolution is to dominate the global ultra scene, so I have created this blog to chart my training progress over the next seven months as I aim for my first 100 miler. I'll be aiming to complete one of either the ultra trail du mont blanc (UTMB to all of us in the know) or the Leadville Trail 100 in the Colorado Rockies.

Should anyone actually read this, you'll understand from the title of this blog that it is not 100% serious, for my quest is to be the greatest blogger in the ultra world as opposed to runner. As talent is absent, humour has to be in abundance. If I don't laugh at myself, others will do it for me. The title of this blog is in reference to two of the greatest ultramarathoners in the world, Dean Karnazes (for promoting the sport) and Tony Krupicka (for being my hero in the sport). Check out their blogs if you want an understanding of the level of training required to be at the top. Keep reading if you want to understand the level of training required to be at the bottom.

The facts of the matter are that I am a bit shit at running. I spent the majority of the last race I did (2010's Atacama Crossing) residing in the medical tent each evening, struggling to rehydrate after a serious bout of the runs (depositing on the desert as opposed to traversing across it unfortunately). It was passing through the eye of a needle. Despite this, I am back for more. My dad pased away three months ago and to help myself keep on keeping on, and to support a couple of chariddies I've decided to tackle one of the toughest ultra experiences, the 100 miler. Not only that, I am determined to run the bugger, even if it kills me. Which it might.

2011 started brilliantly, a bloody great hangover, a 20k hike with the girlfriend and then I fractured my ankle. Forgetting I am a bit fat and that I am in fact not Tony Krupicka or a tarahumarra indian, I bough a pair of New Balance MT101's as a nod towards the minimalist movement sweeping the globe. Essentially the argument is that modern trainers were created by the devil himself and you will go to hell if you wear them, as well as possibly destroy the world. At least I think that is what I read in 'born to run'. Great book, but perhaps a little sensationalist. Anyway, I went on a hike to test them out. I have to say, very comfortable until I hit a rock and fractured my ankle. Very comfortable. Lesson number one learned. I am not an ultrarunner, in fact, technically, by body weight I am two. So I shall go back to chunky supported trainers and accept that I am going to hell.

As I train for the run and generally live the life in Hong Kong, I'll aim to post on here fairly often. The focus will be broad and varied, the training will be limited, the fun will be had and most importantly of all, the humour will never be lost.

Happy New Year, good will to all men (Down with the minimalist movement, bring me padding and support).