A year in review.

It's been a while since I blogged.

I finished the last one with this mysterious piece on "taking the next step". That lead to lots of supportive emails, tweets and messages, but I never followed up on what the next step was.

The lack of blogging certainly isn't because I don't enjoy doing it.

I love the feeling of rationalising and organising the feelings of a good run or race, whether others enjoy it or not. I like baring myself to people I don't see in my every day life, because I rarely get to do it in the real world. A mixture of not having many runner friends and not being a "bare your sole" kind of guy means that my usual response to "how was your race?" is usually no more than "good thanks, I got a medal".

Regular readers will know my passion for running has evolved over the last four years. I can take a look at myself now and see a streak of discipline and hard work in me which never existed before. That streak has empowered me to achieve more in the last 12 months than I ever have before.

This year has seen me run 3 ultramarathons, but only finish 2. I ran the London Marathon in a PB time of 3:29 and set my first 5k race time of 19:05. I broke every previous best I had set and finally achieved something approaching a body shape and level of fitness I'm happy with (massive step).

Away from the running, I have sat and passed my Level 2 gym instructor qualifications and as of last week passed my level 3 personal trainer exams, with a practical to follow in January. I became an ambassador for Ink'n'burn, qualified as a Barefoot Run Instructor with Vivobarefoot.

I did these things alongside a full time job, family life and other commitments.

Running taught me I could do it; and I did.

I've always preached that running prepares you for life's challenges, that it's a microcosm of life itself and teaches you all of the lessons that you need to succeed. This last year has shown me just how true that is.

So as I look back at last year and identify the biggest lessons, I have to ask myself, have I really learnt anything and am I ready for the next step?

 

 

• Do not be afraid to fail. I stopped 43 miles into a 62 mile race and despite a small wobble immediately after, I have no doubt it was the right thing for me. I had given it everything that day and needed the finish to qualify for a 100 miler in 2014. But by not finishing I reassessed my goals and accepted that while anything is possible, it has to be the right time. Training for ultras takes a lot of time as well as commitment and with everything else I had/have going on, I wasn't giving it the right level of attention.

• Never be afraid to try something different. One of my highlights of the year was running around central London, through the night with some friends. Meeting at a train station at 11pm and running through 'til sunrise was bizarre and brilliant all at the same time. Catching the train to work and then doing a ten-hour shift wasn't my smartest move. But if running has a "rock'n'roll" side to it, I'd like to think we did it that night. 
• Share running. Never be afraid to espouse the benefits and rewards that running brings. I have had two work colleagues start running this year, with my support and encouragement and seeing them develop and succeed has been a real success for me as well as them. You still see some people who are selfish with their sports. Elitist and somewhat exclusive, and I dare say that in the past I have done it, probably being protective of something I care about. But I have loved encouraging others and will continue to do so. Turning up at the end of Rugged Radnage when I couldn't run it and cheering people in was brilliant fun.

• See all sides of the sport. I helped on an aid station this year at Centurion's Winter100, and I learnt more in those 9 hours tan I have in 2 years of running ultras. The sheer tenacity of the runners coupled with the fun they were having while doing it was a heady experience. I realised that I have been approaching most of my races wrong. Taking them too seriously and worrying about my position at the start of a 100km race is like worrying about exam results at the start of the school year. It is pointless, a waste of energy and detracts from the joy of running and racing. In next years 50 miler, I'm taking a totally different approach to it and I'm going to enjoy it a whole lot more.
• Meet your heroes. I'm not going to name them, but if you're like me you have those people who you look up to, even if your only experience of them is on Twitter or Facebook. I got to run with a lot of mine this year. Some impress because of their sporting achievements and performance, others because of the positive attitude they bring to running and infectious running. Some are idols because they motivate others, despite having very busy home and professional lives and others continually push themselves despite the challenges, injuries or setbacks that may face them. As I said earlier, I'm not one to bare my soul, but if I had the pleasure of running with you this year, then believe me you have motivated me and encouraged me. And every time I run, I thank you.

• Push the limits. Winning a place in VLM this year was crazy. The single biggest experience of my running life and one that I could not even hope to recreate. The crowds, the experience, the sheer number of runners. London Marathon is an immense experience and I'm a little bit jealous of everyone running it in 2014, although I'm not sure I could have the same buzz as last year. As good as it was, my running highlight of this year was the Redbull Steeplechase. Another event I won a place in. I got to meet, and for a short while run with, and for a longer while share a beer with one of my running heroes. My first Fell run in the beautiful peak district, I'll be going back in 2014, making more of the complimentary bar this time.

While the above is not a complete look at the last year, it would be boring and I've probably lost half of you already, I hope it captures some of the things I have learnt and how running has helped to shape my future.

In 2014, as well as running more races, and meeting more heroes I will qualify as a personal trainer. After doing the same job for 15 years, I'm actually starting to believe that sports and fitness may have a larger place in my life than an occasional Sunday race and long Saturday runs.

In 2014 I will launch my Personal Training business, my running courses and I will take further qualifications to better meet the needs of prospective clients. I hope I'll get a chance to blog about it, when I do it will be under a different guise.




What I will say is this; for everyone of you who tweets support, who texts congratulations, who emails advice, posts pictures on facebook, blog, cheers or races me near the finish line and pushes me to be my best, I thank you. If you've read this far then thanks again.

I love to run, it helps me be the best I can and I believe it can help you too. It has prepared me for a future that for the first time is uncertain and holds more possibilities than I thought.

So if you are a runner, keep doing what you do. Run, and inspire others to do it too. If you're not running currently, or want to or even used to but don't, then  get outside and run, you will feel better and achieve more than you ever thought you could.

Taking the next step....

Did you ever get the feeling that for all the running you do, you've moved no further forward. 

And I'm not talking about being on a treadmill either, I'm talking about the fact that when you first start running, every day seems like a new adventure, every route a new discovery and every race medal a milestone.

I'm 4 years into running now, and I recently moved my collection of race medals into a new box as the old one had got a little full. Looking back at my selection of mid pack medals I found myself asking if all the hours running and, let's be honest, the money spent on race entries were worth it.

I'm not the kind of person who gets excited by a runstreak, and I'm not a stats fan either so I don't really go hunting PB's or comparisons. I run because for the personal challenge it sets and the goals I achieve along the way. Or at least I did.

After my DNF in Stour valley 100 last month, I felt like I needed a win, I signed up for the Stort30, knowing I could run it and get the medal this time, secretly confident I could do well.

In the run up to the race I felt great. Energised, excited, the old me. I wanted to run and race and be competitive to the end. Stort30 is run by Challenge Running and is a 30 mile out & back along the River Stort. Other than a short detour it was easy to follow and being the only one to make the mistake, I can't criticise the organisation at all. The route was good, the aid stations were fab and the medal was one of my all time favourites.

 

The first 15 miles went by in a blur, all sub 8 minute miles, all strong, alone, but content. Loving the run, loving the race. I tailed a twitter runner for ages and was excited to see I was maintaining pace with someone whose performance I really respected.

But after the turnabout, my energy levels and enthusiasm dropped to the floor. People started going past me and my mood went downhill as fast as my performance. By mile 20 I'd had to adopt a 4:1 run:walk strategy. And I death marched the last 5 miles to scrape a sub 5-hour finish.

Despite a finish and trying to maintain appositive attitude I couldn't help but feel deflated. I've run 30 miles this fast before, hell I ran a sub 3:30 marathon this year. Wile it's not Olympic standard, I was chuffed with it. How could my performance have dropped off so much?

I don't know if I didn't train enough, or I've got worse at running.  Maybe my nutrition was off or it just wasn't my day...

I don't know what it was and I don't intend to waste energy worrying about why.

I'm not going to repeat other posts about finding success in failure. My solution is much simpler than that.

 

I'm not worrying about it and like a tough run, I'll push through the tough parts and enjoy the successes to come.

The truth is that I used to dedicate a lot more time and energy to running than I do now, simple as that. If you want to be good, continually improve and set streak records and PB's you have to put the effort in and I'm just not. 

I have the utmost respect for those that do, in fact I'm a bit envious of them. 

This week I asked the twitterverse about reaching plateaus this week. What does it mean when your running plateaus and you're not sure you want to push through it?

The answers were varied, but all interesting. Some saw it as a sign of success, having reached determined goals. Others saw it as a weakness, lacking the stomach perhaps to push through a tough spot.

I think it can be any of these things and probably more. 

Looking back at my medals, looking back at old posts and especially looking back at old pictures of me, I'm proud of what I have achieved. But I'm left with resounding feeling that I have achieved everything that I had set out to and that maybe I want to achieve different things as I move forward. 

In fact, I'm on the threshold of taking my biggest step yet.

 

 

 

Red Bull Steeplechase 2013

Some time last year, I wrote a piece about the importance saying yes.

I also wrote another piece about the importance of support if you want to achieve anything.

This week I'm grateful that I take my own advice.

I've won a few competitions (not races) since I started running. I was invited to Germany to run in the Strongman Run in 2012, I won a place in the Virgin London Marathon this year and a month ago I got an email from Red Bull to say I'd won a place in the Red Bull Steeplechase. The format for this race is quite unique.

 
 













Four stages of the race, varying from 8-3 miles in length are run over the Peak District, totalling 21 miles and over 4200 feet of climb. But the catch is that at the end of each stage, the slowest 30% of runners are excluded, meaning that only 40 people ever see the finish line. But those that are knocked out earlier in the race are by no means failures, they are rewarded with medals, hooded tops, a goody bag and a free lunch and bar!

The successful few that make it to the end of stage 4 have the ultimate honour, but as I reflect on the race and my effort I feel nothing but pride at what was achieved by everyone.

My support crew on this race, described by last years entrants as the best and hardest thing they'd run, was my wife Kelly, who supports my adventures totally, but due to childcare rarely gets to enjoy(?) these things with me.

 

 

The course starts on a steep hill and goes immediately up the side of Mam Tor, the view from the ground was described to me by Kelly as like watching 500 multi-coloured ants climbing a mountain.

The top revealed miles of rolling hills and peaks and after a run along a broken trail for a good mile and a half it descends into grassy slopes and exposed rock trails. I opted not to take a camera or phone and I'm glad as I'd have probably lost it, but the scenery was stunning and at times breathtaking. Steppingstones across secluded rivers, running through sun dappled woodland and then trails alongside a huge reservoir, picturesque doesn't even cover it.


Stage 1 totalled 8 miles, with 580 metres of climb, and initially I thought I'd made a mistake even turning up. But I didn't rush on the big climbs at the start and I found the run at the top comfortable and for the first time in ages, fun. The exposed rock became my targets for small jumps and the steep descends, with long wet grass became my slides as I first fell, then slid along them. Overtaking runners using a lot of energy to slow down, I opted for gravity to do the work and cruised the downhills. After 8 miles I felt spent and immensely proud that I was well inside the cut off and allowed onto stage 2. But as hard as I'd run and raced, it wasn't my position or pace that I was really happy with.

I'll break at this point to explain. I have an annoying habit of turning everything into work. I over analyse every aspect of my life. I tend to focus too much on planning to ever enjoy most things and I have trouble letting go of that. But after my DNF at Stour Valley 100 last month, I actively tried to move on from that. I also took advice from a great Twitter friend Laura (@thelozzatron) and her post on the importance of having fun. Essentially, spend too much time on a plan and in your head, and you miss the brilliant things going on around you.

So it was at this point that I set off on stage 2 with a massive smile on my face. The world no longer looked like a gym, it looked like a play ground. It wasn't a treadmill, it was a rollercoaster. It was a place to run fast in, to fall, roll and get back up in. A place to enjoy and explore. The four miles of stage 2, ascended 310 metres of climb, the majority on Win Hill. I was running on a heady mixture of adrenaline, endorphins and Red Bull. And I was overtaking people, I was running hard and trying to gain every place I could.

I can't remember the last time I was so energised, not just to run, but to RACE!

At the start of the descend was a checkpoint which showed that I had a mile to go and the guys on the post told me I had 20 places to make up to make the cut off. Looking down the hill, all jagged rock at ankle twisting angles and single track trails leading to lower grass banks I turned to the guys and said "that's too tempting not to try".

Now a third person view would probably show me as a grinning idiot, all flailing arms, little balance and moving slowly down the hills. But in my mind, I was a gazelle, leaping from launch point to launch point, legs like springs, arms there to counter-balance, using body weight to shift and land lightly before instinctively launching to the next. I overtook people into the cut off, knowing I wouldn't make it through, but knowing I'd given it everything.

When I stopped I was exhausted, had more than a few grazes and was thirsty as hell. But I was happy, genuinely, huge-smile, talking to strangers, climbing up the walls happy.

A coach collected us and took us the finish line where I met with another Twitter legend Martin, whose race report from last years Steeplechase first inspired me to run this event. After a beer and bite to eat I hit the road, for the long journey home.

I walked away with a medal, a nice top, a cool towel with the map of the race on it and the start of a mild Red Bull addiction.

But more importantly I let go of a lot of stress on those hills. I realised how much I'd lost sight of the fun you can have when you're training. It doesn't make you a better or worse athlete, but it makes it a lot more enjoyable.

I've purposely avoided times and splits in this post. It's not even a race report, I only got halfway through the race and spent a significant amount of my time with either my arse on the grass or both feet in the air.

This is a reminder to myself and meant to motivate others on the importance of enjoying what you do and doing what you enjoy. Next few races for me will be prepared for and approached differently. Goal number 1 will be to have fun!

Few people to thank at the end of this post. Laura I've already mentioned, whose energy and persistence is very motivational, who learns lessons the hard way, becomes better for them and is kind enough to share that journey. Martin, a man to run mountains with. Partly because of his pace, largely because of his socks, but mostly because of his enthusiasm which is contagious, Sharon, for reminding me that all of this exercise is supposed to be fun, not a chore and of course Kelly for the non-stop support, hug at the finish, carrying my bags when I couldn't and telling me where the free bar is.

Red Bull, who despite being a HUGE company with apparently infinite resources still put on intimate little events like this and of course Ink'n'burn whose quality gear kept me looking good (got a few compliments on the course) and stood up to all I could throw at it.

As friends, you get 15% off all Ink'n'burn gear, just create an account and type in dantoldme at the checkout

Stour Valley Path 100 - DNF

I've never done too well with failure. I once got reprimanded at work because, having failed a promotion board I went about destroying the office I worked in, computer, filing cabinet, the lot. The first person that walked in told me it looked like a fight had kicked off in a Wild West bar!

So it was a nervous reply when I phoned my wife after running 43 miles and told her I was done running and couldn't face the last 19 miles.

"Are you ok?" she asked, her voice dripping with trepidation. My reply surprised her as much as it did me.

Look back 9 hours and I'm stood in  pub surrounded by the usual mixed bag of runners that turn up at ultra marathons. From hardcore trail runners to veteran runners, young, old, nervous, excited, all sorts of people met at the pub on the inaugural running of this great race. I'd started early and travelled up with my ever dependable crew (my Dad). I'd gone with early porridge and given myself a few hours to get race ready so we arrived early. After a coffee Conrad turned up, who a week before I'd run around central London with through the night (like you do). After a pre race briefing we crossed the road to toe the start line, with the mayor of Newmarket starting us.

My strategy and plans for this event had changed so many times in the preceding weeks that I didn't really know what I was doing, but I was positive that I could run the distance. I'd done the work, I'd eaten properly, this was to be my day, my pinnacle. My first 100.

The race was split by check points, the first cam after 12 miles. CP1 was well stocked with food and drink and having been on lush green single track trails for a couple of hours, I was ready to eat. But I was excited to be running and already a fifth of the way through the race, and I headed out without taking on nearly enough supplies. I barely spoke to my Dad, and with a cursory chat and a wave I was gone.

5 miles later, the terrain and my mood had changed considerably. My pace was where it should be and my legs felt fine, but my energy levels had plummeted and the ploughed fields of Suffolk had slowed us all considerably. It was the mood that got to me though, sudden doubts of abilities and strategy haunted me and I ran the rest of this 11 mile section with doubts of finishing.

Mile 23 brought me to CP2, a proper smorgasbord of food and a good chat with my Dad. I reflected on the first two stages, took on some proper (maybe too much) food and left in a positive mood, ready to run and ready to race. Somewhere along the way at about mile 28 I started checking my watch and became very aware that a lot of runners were passing me, or at least it seemed that way.

Knowing I had a further 5 miles to go, I thought of how far I'd come and where I was really struggling. I knew I had the pace to finish and I knew I had the strength, what seemed to be lacking was the attitude. I looked around me and started soaking energy from the trails and the world around me. I looked for nice sights and tried to smile and for a while it worked.

Approaching sights like the one above I'd certainly started feeling better and was once again able to enjoy my surroundings, I'd even started gaining on the pack of runners in front of me. I started tweeting to take my mind off the challenge, I recall tweeting that having decided to stop I was going to carry on and I received a flood of positive messages from people. I was energised and had people behind me. I thought of these people and I thought of my family, at home and thinking about me. I thought of my Dad waiting at the aid stations, giving no pressure and just willing me on. I cruised into CP3 having made ground up and with a positive frame of mind to carry on. I ate, I drank, I talked with my Dad and the CP crew and I knew I was going to finish this race.



 The distance to CP4 was 9 miles, at last into single figures and I was back to my old self. Absorbed in the trails, enjoying the company and banter of others and loving the experience. I knew I was going slower than I'd like. Whether it was energy levels, motivation, fitness or whatever, I don't know. These 9 passed without incident, other than meeting two of the nicest guys along the way. Neil and a guy who runs a bootcamp company (I don't know his name but his company dragged me through 4-5 tough miles). I stopped a mile short of CP4, sending bootcamp guy on by himself. I'd picked up some crud in my socks and there was a bench. I wanted to run into the CP strong so I stopped for a minute. The last mile downhill brought me into a village and my Dad stood by the road cheering me on. Moments like this, I'm not afraid to say, I get a lump in my throat. Running a long way is tough work and knowing there is someone waiting for you helps a lot. We spoke, we hugged, I ate, I drank, I ate some more, I drank even more.

And in that moment I became aware of what I'd achieved. I'd run further than ever before and wasn't injured. I felt surprisingly good, few niggles but nothing to end my day. The next CP was 8 miles away, then then two 6 mile stages and I was done. I was trying to focus on 8-6-6 rather than 20 when I left the checkpoint, smiling.

A mile later I'd fallen apart. My knee had started aching with every footfall, I'd started walking and was losing ground. My stupid brain started running maths and I realised I'd struggle to finish in the time limit unless I ran, and that wasn't an option. After a mile of farm tracks I went into a village and crossed the border to Essex. A new county and the final 19 miles.

Then I ran into a wall (metaphorically, obviously). I sat by the road and weighed up my options. All of the miles run and all of the miles to go. The support of friends and family and the pressure I'd put on myself to finish.

One resounding thought was clear through the fog in my brain. "I don't want to run any more today".

And so it was, I phoned my wife and told her.

"Are you ok?" she asked, her voice dripping with trepidation. My reply surprised her as much as it did me.

"I'm great! I've run as far as I can and now I want to come home."

Other runners went past me and checked on me, I wished them all luck and waited for my lift home. My Dad arrived and we started the long drive home.

This was the first race that I didn't finish and I'd be lying if I said I'm ok with it. I'm competitive and I like to run, but it wasn't my day and if I'd carried on I'd have ended up injured or disappointed that I was outside the time limits.

I learnt so much, and discovered a load of questions as well on the day. Finding the answers to them will be my goal as I prepare for a busy few months of racing. I'm a stronger person for having started and I ran further than ever before.

So my first hundred was a DNF, Did Not Finish. But I'm adamant that I didn't fail either.

Thank you for reading this, if you tweeted on the day, thank you, the messages of support pushed me on through several very tough points in a big day. I'm grateful for all of them.

When it all comes together.

Kids, it's important to look at the things that don't go well and look to improve in the future.

 

In running, you learn a lot from the runs and races that don’t go well.

 

Dehydrated? Drink more.

 

Ran out of energy? Look at your nutrition strategy.

 

Didn’t perform well? Look at your training plan.

 

But when you do those things, and it all comes together, you can accomplish great things.

 

I’ve taken a whole new approach to training for my next ultramarathon (Sept 2013). Rather than smashing out long runs over and over, I’ve focused on quality runs. I’ve spent my time in the gym building a stronger core strength and knee and leg stamina as well as flexibility. My plan is to reduce the risk of injury and improve the efficiency of my running. If I can run 100k in the time limit I’ll be thrilled.

 

In time I’ll learn if this strategy has worked and I’ll go over this approach and fine tune it, but for now I’ve had one of those training weeks when it’s all come together. And I wanted to write that down before I forgot the lessons I’ve learnt.

 

I spent one day this week in the Gatorade Sports Science Institute, where I underwent a full athletic assessment along with Jay (@borntoplodblog). His review of the experience is more thorough (and funny) than mine, but essentially I was given a lot of information about myself as an athlete to better understand and look to improve my performance.

AC/DC as a soundtrack helped on the treadmill

 

The most useful data for me was supplied on the treadmill where a computer analysed my breathing to identify my aerobic threshold. You can calculate the number yourself using various formula's (eg. Karvonen formula) but seeing as the scientists were happy to hook me up to the world’s most technical treadmill I figured I’d use their data. I was supplied with a book giving me all of the captured data from the day.

 

I was really happy with the results. When participating in endurance events, the key is to use fat as your primary fuel source. When the body uses fat to fuel itself, it is an aerobic cycle and produces no waste, so no lactic acid build up. Also the body stores loads of fat, which can supply enough energy to work for days, not just hours.

 

Everyone is different but on average the body uses fat as a primary fuel source between 50-70 % of your maximum heart rate. For me that would equal, 95-130 and thanks to the giant treadmill and supercomputer my fat MAX rate was calculated at 131 BPM. I also learnt about hydration levels and that mine was very high (bordering on too high) and about better fuelling before training.

 

I took the book home to study. I knew I was doing a long run the next day, I was hoping for 30+ miles. I was hoping to finish in 6 hours.

 

I applied all of the new information I’d got.

 

I knew I didn’t need to hydrate too much, no point in carrying extra weight if it weren’t needed so I stopped drinking an hour before I ran.

 

I used my heart rate monitor to stay in my ideal endurance zone.

 

And after 10, 9 and then 8 miles I stopped, got a new bottle of drink and stretched off before running again.

The beer was for after!!!

 

The run was fantastic, I learnt a lot from it to apply to other long runs. I tired towards the end and had to slow right down to keep my heart rate from creeping up. Whether this was exhaustion or cardiac drift (the heart beats faster as you become hydrated to ensure the fluids in the body are still getting around) I don’t know. But I cracked out 31 miles in 5h03mins and 55 seconds.

In that time I ate 1.5 sandwiches and had four bottles of Gatorade or Powerade, at 120-150 calories per bottle, where I burned off 4,326kcals on the run. I never got hungry or felt exhausted, it was just muscle tiredness.

 

My pace averaged at 9’48” min/mile and I ran over 2000 ft. of ascent.

 

 

I used a lot of information and experience to make the run happen and I learnt even more from it. What I’m trying to do now is use all of this to make a race strategy for my upcoming ultra. In four weeks I run the Stour Valley Path 100km race.

 

My first 100k.

 

I’m not relying on luck to get around. When I come up with a plan, the aim is to get it all to come together.

The British Condition

Great Britain.

Home of the Queen.

 

 

 Fish and Chips, cup o' tea and Mary Poppins.

Once great Empire and land of hope & glory!

I love being British, we have so many traditions to be proud of and which have influenced the world, but at other times it seems like we are way behind.

Turn up at a race in the UK and you'll see what I mean. With the UK running scene bigger than ever and Ultramarathons making a massive impact in recent years, more and more people are turning to running. Following on from the great summer of sport last year and the London Olympics, fitness and sports participation are higher than ever. But herein lies the problem. While some start lines look like a carnival, most UK races look like we are dressed for a funeral!

As a conservative nation with lots of tradition, 90 of the people there will be dressed the same.

The start line at my last race.

Apart from club runners in garish vests, you'll see a sea of lycra-clad people, dressed in swathes of black, with the occasional flash of colour, usually hi-vis yellow. Because it's safe when it rains, and it rains. A lot!

You'll get your occasional eccentric, guys wearing TuTu's (you know who you are) as they twirl around the course, people in race shirts etc. But tradition dictates how we dress when we train and when we race and we generally stick to it.

So a couple of years ago when I discovered Ink'n'Burn, I saw an alternative. Running gear that reflects how we feel when we run.

We talk about the freedom it brings and the happiness it gives, but this isn't often reflected on the outside.

The range of kit they offer is extensive and I'd recommend you take a look, but today I'll talk you through my favourite bit of kit.

The tech-shirt is nothing new, I'n'B didn't invent it or even change what it does.

What they did is make a high quality garment, for runners or people who train and want to distance themself from the crowd.

I could go on about the performance fabric used in their tech shirt, how it is super lightweight, breathable, moisture wicking and feels like a soft cotton tee.

But they're not the only reasons I love this shirt. Just look at it.




Ink'n'Burn Black Kevlar Skull Tech shirt

I get no rubbing when I wear it. Ink'n'Burn even got rid of the label in the neck so nothing chafes, and the designs are dyed into the fabric, not just painted on after. I've owned my oldest InB tech-shirt for 18 months and it looks as good now as it did when I got it. No fading, no design coming off in the wash.

I run and train in the gym in their kit, and I know it sounds stupid but it's the little things that make a difference. The shirt doesn't rise when I do shoulder presses. Think that's not important? Trust me, you need to be in great shape to get away with having your stomach out in the gym. This shirt saves you the embarrassment.

For me running gives a sense of rebellion. I have a job where I have to conform, I'm a father, so I have time and financial commitments, but when I run I'm free to tear up the trails, to dodge traffic, get up insanely early or enter crazy races.

The reason I love this shirt?

 

 It looks how I feel.

Ink'n'Burn is a US company which provides high quality individual sports apparel made in the US. It ships to the UK in less than a week at very reasonable rates and if you're reading this you can use the code "dantoldme" at the checkout to receive a great discount.

 

 
 


Distance yourself from the crowds.

 

A return to form.

Kids, your life moves in a series of peaks and troughs. 

The are times when you're inexplicably ahead and others when despite your best efforts you are behind. As I've said before, the trick is to maintain your efforts through these changes and seek to improve as an individual (if you learn how to do this please tell me).

Never be too proud of your achievements, as the tables can turn and you'll find yourself at the bottom of the pile. 

As you know kids, the purpose of this blog is to keep a journal of my discoveries through running and pass on the lessons learned to you, so here is what's been going on.

It's been a while since my last race, for no reason other than just how busy I have been. That sounds like a cop out but I've had no spare time after work, child care, study and training. But I've stuck to my long term goals and ultra marathon training continues( 6 weeks to go) accompanied with a nice gym regime to get me in better shape.

I've been busy at work preparing for a new role which will be so much better for me AND have no night shifts attached, so hats involved training and study. My personal training course is also going well, although a little slower than I'd hoped. I've had little or no time to blog and less time to stay in contact with people.

So the other day I figured I'd give myself a break. Take a few days off. Kick back, you know, like normal people. 

But here is the truth. Being normal sucks.

I don't want to be normal, in fact I hate normal! After a day I was bored!

So I asked myself some questions,

Why do you want to be normal?

Which "normal" people ever achieved anything great?

You may well be doing alright, but how much better would it feel to be doing great?

I realised I'd been coasting for a while, putting the hours in to some aspects of my life but not the effort. Claiming the rewards of someone giving 100% when you're only really giving 60.

Well it stopped there and then. 

In the last week I've made some big steps forward.

I studied my training plan and using my PT knowledge developed a kick arse one that leaves me feeling great and shattered all at once.

I applied some technical knowledge to my runs too, using Heart Rate Monitors to run in different training zones, preparing specifically for a 100k ultra.

I applied to be a mentor for an amazing organisation called Blurt http://blurtitout.org/ that supports people suffering with depression. I got accepted as an ambassador for a sports clothing  company too, called Ink'n'burn http://www.inknburn.com/ . I get to promote their stuff and offer discount to friends and family (let me know if you're interested). 

Looking back at this week, I'm proud of what I have done. I've made positive steps toward long term goals and stayed positive and motivated when I could have coasted.

I'm not sure if I'm ahead at the moment or behind, if I'm on a peak or in a trough, but I work hard at what I'm doing and I love what I do, so as far as I'm concerned I'm winning.

Guest post

Before you read this ask yourself one question. How many of you have a recurring injury or niggle which affects your running?

I would bet that most runners have and they accept it as being a risk of the sport. I did, but that all changed for me. Let me explain why....

After four years of running a mixed bag of events, from trail ultras to track 5k's, adventure races to London Marathon, I felt like I'd pretty much found my feet as a runner (pun intended). Like all runners I'd had niggles and pains along the way, never a serious injury, more a series of issues which at times had reduced how much, how fast or how far I could run.

I've twisted ankles, suffered from the truly hideous plantar fasciitis, tweaked hamstrings and got bugs in my eyes, but perhaps the most persistent of these was Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome (PPS).

I will describe PPS in the best way I can. After running for more than 8 miles, my left knee would start to feel like it was seizing up, like the joint was rusting somehow and it was painful to bend the knee. This soreness would remain well after the exercise stopped and be exacerbated by having my feet raised with my knee straight.

To be honest, bending my knee after a period of rest was agony and the discomfort would last days.

I've suffered from this before and with a little rest it has gone away, I've also gone through extended periods of running with no issues but this time was different. I have a 100km race in 10 weeks time and as well as rest I needed to come back stronger than before. My goal was to build legs that could take all the damage that running could throw at it and still keep going. If the issue flared up again I wouldn't have time to recuperate and complete the training necessary for the event.

So I turned to Tom Goom aka @tomgoom (running-physio.com). After a lengthy Twitter conversation, Tom made me realise that the trick with recovery isn't to rest and then make the same mistakes again, rather it is to identify the issue, rest the injury and recover with exercises that will strengthen and condition the affected area to prevent it happening again.

This may seem obvious when you're reading this, but so often in fitness or sport we train in the same way and expect a different result. There is a concept in exercise known as specificity, it refers to the fact that the body will adapt “specifically” to a repeatedly applied stress.

In bodybuilding, if you continually increase the weight you are moving, the body will adapt to match the increased demand, building muscle strength and size. In running, if you increase your pace, you body will adapt and allow you to run faster. Genetics being a limiting factor in this, if you train properly and with structure, you can see specific improvements in any given area.

Rather than repeat previous mistakes, I devised a plan which would allow rest, active recovery and (when appropriate) strengthen and condition the area to prevent it happening again. I won't go into the details here as the training plan was lengthy and cumbersome to read, but I identified the muscles and connective tissues that were presenting as the weakness and trained them specifically to reduce the risk of recurrence of the PPS.

I chose a programme that increased flexibility and strength in my hips, particularly the gluteus medius (which was disproportionately weak compared to the other glutes) as well as quads, hamstrings and hip flexors. The programme started with reduced range of motion in the knee to start with so as not to aggravate the issue and steadily increased in resistance and range.

Rather than doing the same thing as before and expecting a different result, I

Identified the problem,

Rested the affected part,

Reconditioned it and the surrounding and postural muscles and

Came back stronger than before.

After two weeks I was able to run pain free. After a further two weeks I started a 20 day run streak with distances varying from 2 to 16 miles, with no issues at all. I genuinely felt stronger than ever and my running form was improved.

I'm now well into my training for the ultra marathon and keen to run more. You never know when an injury will occur, but you can do a lot to reduce the risk of injuries that can plague you as a runner.

Running is a great sport, it keeps you fit, it gets you outdoors and it opens you to a whole world of new experiences and people. But if running is your goal, my recommendation is this; train the rest of your body to support it.

Running alone does not a good runner make.

Bigger and better....

It's easy to be inspired nowadays. The world is full of inspirational quotes and motivational phrases that make you think "I can do this". 

But to get any benefits from motivation you have to approach it with a positive mind.

And the last week has taught me this lesson more than ever.

I'll explain.

You see kids, every runner eventually picks up niggles and pains. It comes for all sorts of reasons, running too much, running to far or fast, new shoes, old shoes; the list is almost endless. And a week ago I found myself out on a run with a recurrence of patellofemoral pain syndrome (PPS). This feels like a tightening inside the knee, it's painful to extend the knee, when running but even more so when you stop. The reason for it is unclear, but it's thought to be an alignment issue with the knee cap. The discomfort is accompanied with a nice crunching noise when you bend/flex the knee.

Rest is required, and then there are exercises you can do to better tone the muscles involved to better align the parts involved. 

Long story short, I found myself with a prescribed 2 weeks off running and some new exercises to try out to better condition and gone my legs. As a runner, not running is tough. 

Suddenly, everywhere I looked people were running. They looked happy and pain free.

I hated all of them, obviously!

I also had to consider my involvement in a 62 mile ultramarathon I have coming up in ten weeks.  Training runs have been cancelled for a while and I started to think that maybe I'd had enough of running ultras. My mood was kept up by positive comments from friends and twitter folk.

I started my exercises and after a couple of days, my legs felt stronger. After 5 days my knee felt great, as strange as that sounds, and my legs were feeling better than ever! 

 I started to think I could come back better than before.

Stronger than before.

With the 62 miler back on track, I woke on Saturday to a message from a friend..

"Don't forget, entries open for Thames Path 100 today"

It was then that I looked back at my week. Despite setbacks in my work, I felt positive. I'd turned a negative of an injury into a way to improve my strength and running. I was feeling positive and motivated!

And like an inspirational writer wrote recently, sometimes when a challenge scares you, you have to say yes.

I could have said no. It would have been easy to be honest. Training for ultras is tough and a 100 is awesome and ridiculous all at once. 

The challenge scares me. Because it makes me want to try harder than ever. Because I want to run it, or parts of it with others that inspire me and who I hope to inspire.

And because at the end of the days it's one hundred bloody miles!

Kids I guess what I'm saying is, look for inspiration from others, but don't wait for them to push you. When you're scared, think carefully. You might just be on the edge of achieving something amazing. And like I've old you before, never be afraid to say yes.

Thank you for all of the positive messages I got after entering Thames Path 100, never underestimate how much they help people.

My Everest

I stood in the middle of the field, miles from home. 

Stopping to catch my breath and take a quick picture I faced the question that all runners do, "how did I get to be stood here?" 

Well let me take you back a few years. The Icknield Way Trail runs right behind my house and I've always trained on it, heading south on the trail to its finish about 7 miles away. But I never thought about which way it went the other way. 

What happens if I head north?

So after contacting the people that manage the trail, I bought myself a guide to its route and an idea which had seeded years ago, took shape. 

I could run this. The full trail is 110 miles long and linking Norfolk to Buckinghamshire via 4 other counties. It is well marked and sign posted, and just waiting to be run on.

So far I've covered about 16 miles of the route and I know there is a lot more to recce but this is my Everest (until I decide to climb Everest). I've been back in touch with the Icknield Way association and they like the idea of it being run and mapped. Apparently, the original trail hasn't been run in its entirety and they'd like it written up and photographed. 

So the goal is set and the passion is there. Only two questions remain....

When will I do it?

And who is coming with me?

Kids, at times in your life you'll find yourself faced with a challenge so huge it casts a shadow over other things you have done. My advice when faced with shadows is to shine bright. Identify your goals and don't let anyone tell you that you can't achieve them.