I set myself a target this past week, a last attempt to kick start the "ultra" training and make it to the Glen Ogle 33 in November. If I had the motivation and trained properly it would be time to taper rather than put in a desperate week of running, mostly late at night around the local roads. I decided to do eight miles every night for five nights, an attempt to bring my weekly mileage up from virtually nothing to at least forty.
It was after ten before I got out on Monday, a beautiful clear night. I was half way through the run when I noticed a peculiar glow above. The northern lights, streaking all the way from one horizon to the other. It's not the first time I've seen this phenomenon, New Deer is in the heart of North East Scotland well away from urban light pollution.
Another clear night on Tuesday, no northern lights this time but I could see the orange glow of Aberdeen low on the horizon which got me thinking about light pollution. It dawned on me that the head torch I had on was a form of pollution and decided to switch it off. The difference was remarkable, once my eyes got used to the dark I could just make out the single track road I was plodding along. This wasn't as reckless as it sounds, I knew the road was in good condition and was pretty straight for around a mile. In fact, the biggest risk would be stumbling upon a fox or badger. I ran on the crown of the road and was able to see vehicles coming a long way off, allowing me to step onto the verge. I was a lot sharper, more aware of the surroundings, free from looking at the circle of tarmac illuminated by my head torch. Trees were silhouettes against the dark sky and stars above.
A three mile lunchtime run on Wednesday meant a split shift, with just five miles to do at night. Just as well, I was getting fed up running the same distance and route.
Thursdays run was a thought, the weather taking a turn for the worse. I had to force myself to go out and endure another eight miles in the pouring rain where I got absolutely soaked.
Friday was out. I didn't go which annoyed me in not achieving the goal I'd set. So much so, I decided to run after work on Saturday. Twenty miles, I finally found the motivation and time to put in a decent training session, on roads, over hills and through forests. I was pretty tired at the end of this run but I should be able to scrape through at the GO33.
So a "huge" total of 52, I have to go back to April where I completed that sort of miles in a training week.
Sunday, 14 October 2012
Wednesday, 3 October 2012
Nature Puts on a Show
It's been a while, my running and blogging have turned as cold as the weather. So much so, last week I considered a DNS for the Glen Ogle in November, my last ultra of the season. The last few weeks have been a struggle, running sessions squeezed into a busy routine and viewed as inconvenient rather than a pleasure. Short distances, mostly on road with no motivation or direction.
Yesterday I finished work, changed into my kit and got into the car. Tuesdays are usually eight miles for my training and to be honest I couldn't be bothered. My intention was to park at Methlick on the way home and run the Braes o Gight. This is one of my top training areas - forest tracks, muddy trails, wooden bridges, the river Ythan and a ruined castle. I arrived at Methlick and almost drove straight through, not really in the mood for running. I willed myself to stop, park up and put on the head torch.
I've blogged and photographed the Braes of Gight on previous posts, so I must apologise for repeating myself. From Methlick its three miles of forest track and grazing land before reaching a two mile loop of muddy track around the Braes before returning back to Methlick.
I lock the car and stiff legged hit the forest track, following the Ythan upstream. It's beautiful and clear on this autumn evening and one advantage of the dark night is reclaiming the trail from families and dog walkers, I have it all to myself. The solitude is eerie and exhilarating at the same time. I usually tell Coach where I am running and when I'm due back (health and safety and all that) but tonight no-one knows I'm here, it's a bit reckless I know, but it adds to the "stripped back to nature" feeling I'm getting tonight.
A couple of miles in and I need to switch on the head torch. I pass through a couple of gates and keep a steady pace heading for the Braes. Not long after there's a silhouette on the track in front staring back at me. It's a Stirk and he's not wanting to move. I don't want to turn back so we stare at each other, both not wanting to back down. A deer in the field to the right has had enough of the standoff and makes a dash for cover, disappearing into the hillside in seconds. I talk quietly to the beast like some ancient cattle drover and usher him to the side before making a break and running past to continue my run. Owls hoot to each other, their lonely calls echoing into the still night. One more cattle gate before I hit the braes, fast fleeting shadows catch the upper illumination of my head torch. It's the aerobatic display of bats, swooping and turning in pursuit of insects.
I turn off the forest track and follow a path through trees and reeds towards the river Ythan. There's a cold mist in the valley above the Ythan and my headtorch struggles to show the way. I eventually reach squirrel bridge, climb the steps and am just about to jog across when I hear a loud splash in the river. "Now that was too loud to be a trout" I think to myself turning my headtorch over the side to illuminate the still water below. All is quiet as I scan the flat water with my torch before there's a snort of air under the bank. I turn the torch quickly but the creature is nowhere to be seen. The beam from my torch scans the river before picking out my unhappy companion climbing onto a log, it's sleek coat reflecting the light. An otter, not very impressed with me clumping across the wooden bridge then shining a light on it's face. It dives into the water once more, another attempt to evade the rude intrusion but I stand and wait knowing it will come back up for air. Once more it surfaces and climbs onto the log, looking a bit agitated. I watch it dive in and swim away downstream beyond the reach of my torch. I'm left standing in the still of the night in awe of the creatures all around me.
I continue my run through the woods, animals scatter and roosting birds thrash through the woodland as this unfamiliar figure makes it's way through the trail. I'm sorry and apologise to the creatures for the disturbance caused as I make my way back to the river bank and head back to Methlick. I have company though, through the trees a huge yellow moon dances and shimmies, a brilliant show of light just for me to finish off one of the most memorable runs of my life.
Yesterday I finished work, changed into my kit and got into the car. Tuesdays are usually eight miles for my training and to be honest I couldn't be bothered. My intention was to park at Methlick on the way home and run the Braes o Gight. This is one of my top training areas - forest tracks, muddy trails, wooden bridges, the river Ythan and a ruined castle. I arrived at Methlick and almost drove straight through, not really in the mood for running. I willed myself to stop, park up and put on the head torch.
I've blogged and photographed the Braes of Gight on previous posts, so I must apologise for repeating myself. From Methlick its three miles of forest track and grazing land before reaching a two mile loop of muddy track around the Braes before returning back to Methlick.
I lock the car and stiff legged hit the forest track, following the Ythan upstream. It's beautiful and clear on this autumn evening and one advantage of the dark night is reclaiming the trail from families and dog walkers, I have it all to myself. The solitude is eerie and exhilarating at the same time. I usually tell Coach where I am running and when I'm due back (health and safety and all that) but tonight no-one knows I'm here, it's a bit reckless I know, but it adds to the "stripped back to nature" feeling I'm getting tonight.
A couple of miles in and I need to switch on the head torch. I pass through a couple of gates and keep a steady pace heading for the Braes. Not long after there's a silhouette on the track in front staring back at me. It's a Stirk and he's not wanting to move. I don't want to turn back so we stare at each other, both not wanting to back down. A deer in the field to the right has had enough of the standoff and makes a dash for cover, disappearing into the hillside in seconds. I talk quietly to the beast like some ancient cattle drover and usher him to the side before making a break and running past to continue my run. Owls hoot to each other, their lonely calls echoing into the still night. One more cattle gate before I hit the braes, fast fleeting shadows catch the upper illumination of my head torch. It's the aerobatic display of bats, swooping and turning in pursuit of insects.
I turn off the forest track and follow a path through trees and reeds towards the river Ythan. There's a cold mist in the valley above the Ythan and my headtorch struggles to show the way. I eventually reach squirrel bridge, climb the steps and am just about to jog across when I hear a loud splash in the river. "Now that was too loud to be a trout" I think to myself turning my headtorch over the side to illuminate the still water below. All is quiet as I scan the flat water with my torch before there's a snort of air under the bank. I turn the torch quickly but the creature is nowhere to be seen. The beam from my torch scans the river before picking out my unhappy companion climbing onto a log, it's sleek coat reflecting the light. An otter, not very impressed with me clumping across the wooden bridge then shining a light on it's face. It dives into the water once more, another attempt to evade the rude intrusion but I stand and wait knowing it will come back up for air. Once more it surfaces and climbs onto the log, looking a bit agitated. I watch it dive in and swim away downstream beyond the reach of my torch. I'm left standing in the still of the night in awe of the creatures all around me.
I continue my run through the woods, animals scatter and roosting birds thrash through the woodland as this unfamiliar figure makes it's way through the trail. I'm sorry and apologise to the creatures for the disturbance caused as I make my way back to the river bank and head back to Methlick. I have company though, through the trees a huge yellow moon dances and shimmies, a brilliant show of light just for me to finish off one of the most memorable runs of my life.
Thursday, 30 August 2012
Speyside Way Ultra
Around five o'clock I began to stir, aware of the noise, soft at first but getting louder, I realised it wasn't a dream. The noise even drowned out the sound of a nearby burn I'd fallen asleep to. "Oh no!" I thought, memories of the whw raced through my mind, "not again!". Rain hammered off the roof of the static as I tip toed round the caravan and got ready for the day ahead. Coach appeared "your not running in that are you?" she asked. Admittedly, for a micro second I thought about pulling out, but I put on the hardest face I could muster and replied "wimping out is not an option".
A short drive to Buckie, registration and a nervous wait before we boarded the bus at half seven. I chatted to a fellow runner doing his first ultra which passed the time. Rain continued to fall, the bus threw walls of water as we made our way to Ballindaloch. At half eight it was time to leave the comfort and warmth of the bus and step into the rain. With half an hour before race start, everyone tried to seek shelter under the trees. Unfortunately, even the trees couldn't offer solace as my weatherproof jacket gave up and let the water through. I was getting cold and just wanted to get going.
Nine o'clock and we were off. My strategy was try and average 10 minute miles for as long as possible and hopefully finish around 6 hours later, a tall order considering the lack of high mile training since the whw.
I start at the back of the field and am surprised at just how flooded the disused railway line is. There's absolutely no point in trying to avoid the mud and floods so I quickly employ the straight through method.
A bit later I refine this strategy further by realising I have a choice of surfaces to run on. The soft grass verge and mud which saps my energy or the hard compacted footpath mostly under water. I choose the water and take great delight splashing through deep puddles without a care in the world. The only downside is I can't see whats under the water but it's a good strategy where I splash past a few runners.
Twelve miles later and the first checkpoint. I'm doing another strategy where I collect my drop bag and continue without stopping. On leaving the checkpoint I'm cheered as I run through the deepest water pool of the day, great!! Across the road and an uphill section where I eat my sausage roll and have a strawberry milk shake. I'm passed by one runner on the uphill but soon catch up once I've finished the food. A few other runners catch up before hitting Ben Aigan but I hold my own, alternating between power walking and running before reaching the top and being rewarded with the view towards the Moray Firth. Downhill now and we're guided off the forest by a marshal onto a steep washed out stony track. I take it easy here not wanting to go over an ankle. I'm still holding position here and averaging 10 min miles but I start to feel a bit tired, time for Mrs Tilly's tablet. It's quite a long road section to Fochabers including a quad busting downhill section just before the second checkpoint at around 25 miles.
I grab my bag and carry on, eating the contents. It's here where the wheels fall off my pacing strategy and the minutes per mile start to head up. I'm beginning to suffer and resist the urge to walk as I run through Fochabers, under the road bridge and head towards Spey Bay. I take a walking break here and am immediately passed by a runner going strong which irks me. I run as much as possible but get passed by another two runners. This time I have a talk to myself, I must not get carried away with other runners, I must run my own race against the clock. At Spey Bay I lose time trying to phone coach, my fickle phone is playing up and I can't see it in the strong sunlight. I eventually get through and give an eta at Buckie then start running as much as possible again. I manage to pass a few runners before reaching Portgordon and make a mental note to come back and photograph the seals here in the future. It's all road now and I am alone running through Buckpool and Buckie, guided all the way by the excellent marshaling we have had for the duration of the race. Uphill and follow the flags across the line, 6 hours 24 minutes 46 seconds, 45th place.
Thank you to Sarah-Louise Grigor and the marshals for organising a cracking ultra race and giving what the Deer Runner thinks is one of the coolest medals yet.
So, one more ultra for 2012, Glen Ogle 33 on the 3rd of November which just happens to be entry month for WHW 2013.......
A short drive to Buckie, registration and a nervous wait before we boarded the bus at half seven. I chatted to a fellow runner doing his first ultra which passed the time. Rain continued to fall, the bus threw walls of water as we made our way to Ballindaloch. At half eight it was time to leave the comfort and warmth of the bus and step into the rain. With half an hour before race start, everyone tried to seek shelter under the trees. Unfortunately, even the trees couldn't offer solace as my weatherproof jacket gave up and let the water through. I was getting cold and just wanted to get going.
Nine o'clock and we were off. My strategy was try and average 10 minute miles for as long as possible and hopefully finish around 6 hours later, a tall order considering the lack of high mile training since the whw.
I start at the back of the field and am surprised at just how flooded the disused railway line is. There's absolutely no point in trying to avoid the mud and floods so I quickly employ the straight through method.
A bit later I refine this strategy further by realising I have a choice of surfaces to run on. The soft grass verge and mud which saps my energy or the hard compacted footpath mostly under water. I choose the water and take great delight splashing through deep puddles without a care in the world. The only downside is I can't see whats under the water but it's a good strategy where I splash past a few runners.
Twelve miles later and the first checkpoint. I'm doing another strategy where I collect my drop bag and continue without stopping. On leaving the checkpoint I'm cheered as I run through the deepest water pool of the day, great!! Across the road and an uphill section where I eat my sausage roll and have a strawberry milk shake. I'm passed by one runner on the uphill but soon catch up once I've finished the food. A few other runners catch up before hitting Ben Aigan but I hold my own, alternating between power walking and running before reaching the top and being rewarded with the view towards the Moray Firth. Downhill now and we're guided off the forest by a marshal onto a steep washed out stony track. I take it easy here not wanting to go over an ankle. I'm still holding position here and averaging 10 min miles but I start to feel a bit tired, time for Mrs Tilly's tablet. It's quite a long road section to Fochabers including a quad busting downhill section just before the second checkpoint at around 25 miles.
I grab my bag and carry on, eating the contents. It's here where the wheels fall off my pacing strategy and the minutes per mile start to head up. I'm beginning to suffer and resist the urge to walk as I run through Fochabers, under the road bridge and head towards Spey Bay. I take a walking break here and am immediately passed by a runner going strong which irks me. I run as much as possible but get passed by another two runners. This time I have a talk to myself, I must not get carried away with other runners, I must run my own race against the clock. At Spey Bay I lose time trying to phone coach, my fickle phone is playing up and I can't see it in the strong sunlight. I eventually get through and give an eta at Buckie then start running as much as possible again. I manage to pass a few runners before reaching Portgordon and make a mental note to come back and photograph the seals here in the future. It's all road now and I am alone running through Buckpool and Buckie, guided all the way by the excellent marshaling we have had for the duration of the race. Uphill and follow the flags across the line, 6 hours 24 minutes 46 seconds, 45th place.
Thank you to Sarah-Louise Grigor and the marshals for organising a cracking ultra race and giving what the Deer Runner thinks is one of the coolest medals yet.
So, one more ultra for 2012, Glen Ogle 33 on the 3rd of November which just happens to be entry month for WHW 2013.......
Saturday, 18 August 2012
Serignan
This was my last run in France before heading back home. The village of Serignan is a few miles from the Med and surrounded by vineyards. The Orb flows through on it's way to Valras. No hills here so a flat run following the river to Serignan Plage was on the cards. From there a three mile barefoot jaunt along the beach was completed before getting shod and heading back to Serignan.
I departed from the square at Serignan where the market was setting up.
Like many times during this holiday I cross the Orb.
Sunrise over the vineyards.
Road follows the route of the river.
The Orb is still and quiet here, reflecting on it's journey from the mountains.
Dingy on it's way to the coast.
Valras.
Beziers in the distance, a backdrop of the mountains where I previously ran.
The harbour at Valras.
The Orb finally meets the Mediterranean.
Serignan Plage on the Golfe Du Lion.
Running on the slope at the beach can cause joint pain, particularly if running one way and not turning round. I walked back the way a few times to give the ankles a break.
After three miles its time to turn inland and head back to Serignan.
This is the commercial part of the beach, plenty of camping around these parts.
Feeding time at one of the two ranches.
Murals catch my eye by the road side on the way back.
Back at the square where the market is in full swing.
So in the space of a week I go from wine country to whiskey country, the Speyside Way Ultra.
I'm not sure where my fitness is for taking on over 36 miles as I have not put in high miles during training. When I have run it's been mostly on the hills and trails so hopefully I'll stand in good stead for this Ultra.
So in the space of a week I go from wine country to whiskey country, the Speyside Way Ultra.
I'm not sure where my fitness is for taking on over 36 miles as I have not put in high miles during training. When I have run it's been mostly on the hills and trails so hopefully I'll stand in good stead for this Ultra.
Wednesday, 15 August 2012
Vieussan
Its difficult to fit running around a family holiday, particularly when the climate is hot. I squeezed an evening run in even though the temperature was still over 30 deg. I stayed in the valley this time, crossing the Orb to Vieussan, a picturesque village perched on the hillside with a dramatic back drop where a trail hugs the side of the mountain.
A view of the destination from our terrace.
Cross the Orb on a concrete footbridge.
Cross the road and up past the town house.
Up the hill and through alleyways of Vieussan.
Brilliant views of the Orb valley.
I had to carefully negotiate the scree slope as I didn't want rocks to fall on the road far below.
This was a quick run so I turned around at a forest on the hillside.
A view of the road below and the footbridge I crossed earlier.
On the return I cross a road bridge over the Orb.
Back up the other side and one of my favourite views of Vieussan.
Soon we leave the mountains for the Mediterranean coast where I hope to get one more run done before heading home.
The trail is quite hard to find at the village.
Soon we leave the mountains for the Mediterranean coast where I hope to get one more run done before heading home.
Thursday, 9 August 2012
Wine Country
Boissezon, the Orb Valley, South France, 0600 on the 08th August. The Deer Runner has been on vacation for almost a week without putting in a decent run. Good food and red wine has made him idle in the high temperatures experienced in this region of France but this is about to change. He quietly puts on running gear, fills a two litre plastic bottle with water and pockets two brioche breads. On the doorstep is some of the most beautiful scenery he has ever run. These mountains have miles and miles of tracks snaking their way through vineyards, peaks and valleys. Today the destination is Naudech, a peak he has run in the past and where plenty of water needs to be carried.
The trail leaving Boissezon.
Cross the road and climb a steep rocky scree slope.
Up into vineyards and a view of the destination.
The Deer Runners favourite part, a trail above the valley floor where the smell of pine wafts up in the heat.
The destination, golden in the morning sunshine.
A view of the Orb.
The sun peaks over the mountains, its going to get hot.
A view of where he has been, a water storage tank.
Caroux mountain range.
The track zig zags up towards the summit.
The sun makes it's presence felt.
Armstrongs footprints are directly above.
Olargues with the bridge built by Eiffel.
Target practise for the hunters.
Miles of trail through the hills, this area would make a great ultra.
The highest peak is not the most scenic, you have to double back and make your way to a rocky outcrop.
Magnificent.
A cracking run and one of my all time favourites. Happy holidays.
Cross the road and climb a steep rocky scree slope.
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