Muddy Out and Back

A car beeps its horn twice. Strange how the first sounds angry and the second sounds cheerful though it’s the same tone from the same car. It’s not long before the brief climb up the start of the path leaves the urban sounds of Blaenau Ffestiniog behind and I’m left with the deafening sounds of the breeze blowing through the grasses along the edge of the Llyn and the annoyed tweet of the birds startled from their resting places. It’s hard to believe less than twenty-four hours earlier the whole area had been battered by Storm Hannah. The environment recovers so well. Before long my the horizon is broken by the shell of a building built entirely of slate. Not surprising as there is an abundance of the material piled high all around. The ‘slag piles’, would today be classed as an ecological disaster yet today they’re part of the scenery as they’ve been there before our perspectives and policies changed. The building, probably some form of a warehouse, still tries defiantly to with

Hi There’s nothing for it... I’d fell out of love with running. October 2018 saw me complete the GB Ultra Snowdon 50. An event which brought with it a kaleidoscope of physical and mental pain and more ups and downs than the profile map. At the end I crossed the finish line with five minutes to spare. I took the remaining five minutes to stand and grin like a Cheshire Cat. Everything felt great. Fast forward five months and I’m struggling to put my trainers on, both mentally and physically. Physically, I’ve got more midriff volume than open space volume in which it can occupy when I bend over... I’m overweight and have to adopt some interesting poses when tieing up my trainers any yoga sensei would be proud of. I’ve convinced myself I’ve not got time to run and if I do, it will be so painful and only go on to emphasis how bad things are. Even when writing this down a part of me thinks, ‘that’s just stupid’. The problem is the other part of me which isn’t saying anything. That par

I'm British so I'll start off complaining about the weather. It's so hot!. There that's done. It is hot, and I wanted to get a long run in and be slightly comfortable doing it. So, the part of me that comes up with the 'bright ideas' thought, 'Do a night run'. That same part of me wrapped up in its sub-conscious blanket as I fought my way through tussocks and heather in the dark. Thanks. Let's go back a few months. I love maps and enjoy looking over them and plotting my next adventures. When looking for a new route I worked out how to join a few areas together for a route which took me alongside the Rhobell summits. The Rhobell Circuit was born . So, I had my bright idea, and I'd found my previously plotted route. The plan was to start at 19:30 and finish by 02:00. In reality, I started at 19:20 and finished at 05:30! The look back On any trail run I always try to remember to look back. If I don't, I could miss a view. It's the vi

There wasn't any kissing involved, but I got your attention. They'd built the start/finish arch and as I looked on, I couldn't help remember the last time I saw it, albeit with a different banner, the Chester 100 mile race. All quiet at the start The 'Did Not Finish' (DNF) for the Chester 100 has played on my mind since waking the next day. I know I made the right decision, but that didn't seem to quieten the nagging voices. The  training between the Chester 100 and the Pennine Barrier was limited . Limited by a change of a job and losing my running 'Mo-Jo'. The job was exciting, losing my running Mo-Jo was scary; without my running I can't fight my dark days. So, I toed the start line, (well actually about 15 metres back, I didn't want to be trampled ), convinced I had 50 miles in my legs no matter how limited my training was. I didn't know how painful the adventure back to the finish line would be. If anyone knows me, or been a

The headline is, I didn't finish the Chester 100 Ultra. The story, well it's complicated. A Cheshire field.. The view looking back. Preparation and build up for the event was as good as I could have asked for. I not only stood at the start line healthy, I was looking forward to the challenges the experience would throw at me. The heat was a concern, but my feeding plan is simple. Have my watch beep every kilometre which would remind me to drink, eat and ask myself was I hurting. So that is how the day went. I stopped and enjoy the views and even used the excuse of sorting my socks out to take on an ice cream whilst at the Delamere Forest checkpoint. Sorting my feet out So where did it go wrong? The short answer I'm not too sure.  On reaching checkpoint 6 I had my first drop bag waiting for me which contained a change of clothing, more food and some 'wet wipes'. An actual necessity as my face had more salt on it than a Northwich salt mine. I to

It's here, the weekend I've been looking forward to for a year. "You can do it". The mantra I've been chanting to myself since the day I signed up for it. I'm trying to remember how many glasses of wine I'd had that night! So, this weekend I'll be running my first 100 mile event. I've done 100km events and when I tell myself it's only another 33 miles, I realize the scale of the challenge; only another 33 miles that's more than a marathon! Once I'd sobered up after a night of hitting the enter button for every ultra the Ultra GB team offered I decided I needed a plan. Without a plan is like leaping off a precipice and trying to knit yourself a parachute on the way down. I'm not great with plans. Oh, I can write them and make them look pretty by using every colour imaginable, but I can't keep to them. So my plan, I know I said I can't keep to them but I had to call it something, was to just run as much as possible on