Introduction to intervals.

This may shock some of you regular readers, but in the past I have tended to stick to the softer, more sentimental side of  running. I've had more feedback saying  that I've brought people to tears than I have saying I've inspired them to run more or train harder. I'm ok with that because people clearly like what they read, or they wouldn't come back. There is no end of really good blogs out there on detailed training and race reports.

Not for me the 5000 word analytical breakdown of a 5k race, every breath and footstrike described to the nth degree. I prefer to pull at heartstrings as much as hamstrings, open my heart to others rather than discuss my heart rate.

This blog came about because I love running and training, but love my family and time with them even more and can't dedicate the sheer amount of time required to do countless long runs in preparation for ultramarathons. If I want to do them and do well, I need to train smarter, rather than just harder.

CV training by itself isn't enough, but it's a great tool to have when you know what areas you want to work on.

So today I'm going to get a little more detailed with you, following on from last week when I mentioned training differently to train better, I am going to delve into the mysterious world of interval training.

This often used and frequently misunderstood training method is more than just an opportunity to hurt yourself and make yourself sick (done that before). Used correctly you can get more benefits than longer training session and more importantly, specifically target the areas that need the most work.

I know I have a mixed audience, so I'm going to start with the basics and go through the various steps over the next few posts. If you want more info contact me directly and if it's too basic, then check back in a week or two when I get into the nuts and bolts of it.

In this instance I am training for a long run, a 50 mile ultramarathon on the trails of the South Downs. I have the ability to run, but in the past my energy levels have not been as reliable as my running. May aim is to improve my CV fitness, increase my lactic acid threshold and improve the efficiency of my muscles.

These are all direct outcomes of interval training.



Another benefit of intervals is the reduction in overuse or overtraining injuries, common in those preparing for longer runs.

There are lots of different types of interval training:

• Sprint intervals
• Cruise intervals
• Tabata
• Fartlek, the list goes on and a lot of them are the same under different names.

When we exercise, or take part in any activity, we use energy. The body has three different energy cycles, which have different characteristics, periods of energy delivery and recovery rates. These three cycles are:

• Aerobic,
• Lactic Acid (LA) and
• Phospho Creatine (PC)

During any activity the body will use all three of these. For example in a 5k race, your fast start will come from the PC system, LA will get you through the first few minutes and then switch to the aerobic system for the majority of the race. Those hills halfway round will require the LA system to kick in again and your sprint finish may dip into the PC again. This all happens subconsciously without bothering you too much.

That bit where your muscles start burning means you've been in LA too long. The bit where you're out of breath and throwing up, that's too much time in PC. Aerobic is where you are aiming to spend the majority of your time, but to do that you need to be well conditioned and this is where interval training comes in.

By adjusting the intensity of your intervals and the rest periods in between, you can trigger these different energy cycles and improve their efficiency. By doing intervals you can train at a much higher intensity for much longer periods than by constant training.

An example would be doing ten intervals which have you running at a high intensity for 30 seconds each time, you would spend a total of 5 minutes at that higher rate. You could never run 5 minutes at that higher rate constantly because it would use you PC and LA systems which just don't deliver for long enough.

The adaptation of the body is accelerated and amplified, causing better recruitment of fasttwitch muscle fibres, improved capillarisation, meaning improved blood flow to the muscles and an increase in the number of mitochondria, the energy factories inside the muscles.

It may sound daunting to the uninitiated, but in practise it's a simple, effective and efficient way to train. Next time I'll go though different interval training systems and how you can reap the benefits I've mentioned above.

A change of perspective...

 

Every now and again you have those moments that completely shift your way of thinking.

Those crystallising moments where it genuinely feels like a missing piece of the puzzle just fit into place, or the final wire in a complex and elaborate circuit has connected.

This lightbulb moments or 'epiphanies' when it all makes absolute sense.

Once you've had this shift of paradigm, you feel like you are out of the shadows. Like you are suddenly not restricted by your previous limitations, and most excitingly like anything is possible. And as we all know, anything is possible.

I have written a lot about running, that's what I do, and along the way I have mentioned studying to be a personal trainer. Well, in January I finished studying. I had passed my theory exams in the December and then booked my practical, portfolio and Viva assessment for January.

Long story short, the assessments went well and I passed, but the best part of the day was yet to come. The assessor seemed like a really switched on guy. Not a meathead muscle bound gym rat, nor a hemp wearing, vegan yoga bunny (not that I have anything against these obvious stereotypes, you know who you are).

c/o xaxor.com

c/o telegraph.com

He just seemed like a professional and switched on guy who was passionate about his profession and wanted to help people be their best. The way I feel about training people.

After we'd finished going through the feedback, he started talking about the exercise programmes that  I had written and he'd assessed. He said they were good and easily met the criteria, but he questioned a few parts as well and went on to discuss the difference between increasing complexity against intensity. Or how you can use velocity and mass or tempo to affect the desired outcome. I was enthralled to say the least and then he told me how he'd helped a friend train for an adventure race. A run, bike and kayak event in North America, and he said that he hadn't made him run much, or cycle much or kayak much at all. He'd developed a programme to make his friend strong and fit and agile, so he could accomplish his goal (he went on to win), not just be able to run, bike and row.

Surprised, I asked him why the hell not he said, "when you have a problem to solve, change your perspective".

In my plan, I'd had Kelly running a lot in preparation for her first half marathon. She also had some gym classes and a resistance programme I'd designed for her. All well and good he said, but if you want her to run 13.1 miles, what does she need?

Strong core, strong legs, efficient cardiovascular system and the belief she can finish, was my answer.

The question, he asked, was how do you get those things?

The truth is that sometimes running may not be enough.

Or, rather, it may not be the most effective way of getting what you want. Long slow runs serve a purpose but if you want to boost you CV system, start looking at interval training and tempo sessions.

Want a strong core, knees and ankles? Start looking at complex core exercises and plyometric work. Toe-ga even! (it's a real thing, I teach it).

If I make Kelly run too much, he told me, one thing will happen. She will get an injury like almost everyone does when they start running distances. Then she'll have less time to go before her race and none of the things I'd identified she needed (core strength, confidence etc)

That one phrase "when you have a problem to solve, change your perspective" has changed my entire way of problem solving and goal setting.

Which brings me on to the point of this blog. This week I have a half marathon to run in Brighton, less than eight weeks later I will run a 50 mile ultramarathon.



I've ordered the Ink'n'Burn 50 t-shirt to run in.

In an experiment on myself, and with you wonderful readers alongside me to share the journey, I will attempt to prove that you can get ultra-fit and ultra-strong, without repeatedly cracking out long, long runs. I love running but I was starting to resent 4-5 hour runs every Saturday for months on end when I trained before. This time it's all quality over quantity. In fact I plan for my longest training run to be no more than ten miles! This will be my longest run by some way and it will be my best.

Over the following weeks and months I will go through my training and performance with you. Along the way I will explain what systems I am using, why I'm using them and what affects they have on the body.

I have run ultras before, from 30 to 43 miles. None of them were easy, none of them were pretty. I have thrown up twice and I DNF'd once. Running should be fun, an adventure, not a death march. A rollercoaster, not a bus ride. SO the training I've done before works for some, but it wasn't perfect for me.

So I'm going to try something different, because when you have a problem you need to change your perspective.

c/o modernimmortal.com

I will update this blog weekly, and would welcome any feedback on it, I enjoy writing and hope you enjoy reading. If  there is any more information you want in it please let me know in the feedback or on twitter @danrunning.

Because you stuck through to the end, don't forget you can have 15% off your first order at ink'n'burn by using the code dantoldme at the checkout. You'll also receive a discount off your next order. And trust me there will be a next order. Their stuff rocks and looks awesome.

Ink'n'burn Lasagne

Anyone who follows me on Twitter (@danrunning) will know how much I cook. I have a full time job and have just started personal training in my spare time, but if there is one job I love to do it's cook for my family.

I make all sorts of food and bake my own speciality breads. And over the years my tastes have changed and the various wants of my family have demanded different types of food. For a while I was vegetarian, even vegan for a few months. I've made everything from Sushi to sausage and mash, from Japanese to Jerky!!!

So when Ink'n'burn asked me to come up with a recipe I cast my mind back and this one fits the bill perfectly.

Ink'n'burn lasagne came about as a result of an evolving recipe and is a firm family favourite. It's vegetarian, quite a light meal, cheap to make, great as a post run lunch and can be tweaked depending on your tastes.

It has a dark red sauce (Ink) and a good hit of chilli (Burn).

So, here my recipe for ink'n'burn lasagne, use it, change it, do what you like, but I guarantee you'll love it.

1 onion
1 red pepper
1 green pepper
1 green chilli
2 cans of chopped tomatoes
2 cans of chick peas (garbanzo beans)
500 ml vegetable stock
smoked paprika
tabasco sauce
dried lasagne sheets
cheese (if desired).

Chop the onion, peppers and chillis and cook on a medium heat with a good glug of olive oil and some sea salt and black pepper. When they have all softened and the mixture smells sweet, add the drained chick peas and then the tomatoes.
 

 
 
Once its all cooked add a good teaspoon of smoked paprika and the vegetable stock. The add 2 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar. It will make the sauce dark and once it cooks off, it will balance the sweetness perfectly. Drop the heat to a light simmer, put a lid on it and leave it to carry on cooking for 20 minutes.

 
 
 
 
 
 
Taste for seasoning, it should be awesome, add tabasco or chilli sauce if you like and then start building up the layers.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Use a slotted spoon to remove some of the sauce form the pan and place in a baking/stoneware/lasagne dish. Once the bottom is covered, cover with dried lasagne sheets and continue doing this until you have just some tomato sauce in the pan and  the dish is covered with dry lasagne, now pour the sauce over the top. Add cheese if you like II use mozzarella) and leave it to rest for 30 minutes, the pasta will soften and soak up the sauce.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
At this point you can cool and chill it, if its for another day. Or, bake it at 200 degree centigrade (400 deg f) for about 30 minutes or until its all bubbling and hot. If you've not added cheese, put some foil on top for a while to stop it drying out.

Serve with a ton of salad and enjoy with a cold beer!

In my house this is just lasagne, but it suits the tag Ink'n'burn lasagne, and I hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

In the writing of this recipe I had to google chick peas for a translation and centigrade - farenheit for the conversion. If they're the wrong details blame google, not me.

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.