End of Year Ramblings

Well here we are again - another year over, and a new year on the horizon as I start to look forward to 2025 with excitement and anticipation. I seriously cannot believe how fast time is going, and it's even more crazy when I think that we're coming up to our 13th anniversary of leaving the UK and starting a new life in Canada.

This year hasn't been a bad year, but it's been a funny old year. Two visits to the UK to see the family, the first due to my mum being sick earlier in year, a rather shitty year at work that's made me question why I'm still doing the job that I used to love, Andy working away lots and me being home alone far more than I would've liked, and for a third time, I'm convinced that I came down with Covid again back in the summer.

But then I think about stuff that's happened to others, in particular those affected by the wild fires in Jasper who've lost their homes, their jobs, their livelihoods. My bad days are trivial in comparison, and other than being worried sick about our parents over recent months, I've tried to put the other "bad" things into perspective - in reality, things have been good. We still have our health, our home, our jobs, eachother, three adorable pups, and some amazing friends who continue to stand by us, come what may.

From a running perspective, it's not been my best year, but then again, it's not been a complete disaster. It started off with the goal of setting a fastest known time in the Staffordshire Way back in England. I used to live in Staffordshire, and I so wanted to complete this 100 mile long distance footpath in less than 24 hours. Winters are never really that cold in England so February seemed as good a time as any to complete this challenge. Unfortunately, the quest was doomed as soon as the persistent heavy rain started on that Saturday afternoon, and it was relentless for the next several hours, causing floods and making route finding and the running extremely difficult due to the thick, knee deep mud. Having already been running for 25+ hours and encountering yet more ridiculously muddy conditions, my heart was no longer in it and I aborted my efforts. I was terribly disappointed at the time, but I had other races to look forward to, and was soon over it.

Start of the Staffordshire Way 

So much rain!!

My next race was the Lakou Backyard Ultra, and whilst I had no interest in attempting to make the Canadian team for the world BYU world championships this year, I did want to make it to at least 30 hours. Looking back, I'm not really sure what happened except that I had terrible tummy ache and was unable to keep food down. I threw in the towel after a disappointing 14 laps, vowing never to do another backyard ultra. I've kept true to my word so far, and I have no intentions nor interest in registering for a backyard ultra in 2025.

Two weeks later, I was on the start line of the Survivorfest 24 hour event. In April, I finally became a Canadian Citizen, and with Survivorfest hosting the national 24-hour Championships this year, I wanted to take part as a Canadian. I was also hopeful of running over 180km which was the qualifying standard for women that were looking to be selected for the world championships in France next year. The weather on the day of the race was cool and wet - perfect for me, and I ended up with 184km and silver medalist in the Canadian Championships. Admittedly there are far stronger female runners out there, but I always say take what you can, and you can only race those that turn up on the day. It was a last minute decision to do the 24 hour, and yet it was one of the races this year where I did hit my goal.

Crazy Muley 25km trail race in Wainwright was another race that I entered for fun. I originally registered for the 50k, but the event came just two weeks after Survivorfest so I dropped down to the 25k as I wasn't sure whether I'd be recovered enough. Dropping down in distance was a good decision - the sand dunes were beautiful, it was a great day for running, and I ended up coming away with the win in the ladies race.

Early July saw me competing in my first mountain race of the year as I tackled the Sinister Seven 100-miler. My only goal there was to finish in the time limit, but having got to about 60 miles of close to 100km, my motivation was wanting, I wasn't enjoying the run, and things were getting tight for the cut-off. I knew there were still some tough climbs to come and I'd already been walking lots - I made the difficult decision to stop and earned my fifth DNF in my 40+ years of running.

I had nothing planned now except for Iron Horse 100-miles in October, and it was nice to just enjoy a summer of running rather than building up for races, then tapering and recovering, only yo start building up again. Saying that, I did miss the racing scene, and I did run the Corporate Challenge 5k, the 5 Peaks Trail Race at Chickakoo, and then Warm Hands Warm Hearts half in November.

Iron Horse went well, and I got to 78 miles before I started throwing up - a successful race in nutrition terms, and certainly helps with planning food for future races. My original goal was to target my own course record which is now 12 years old, but I'd been ill leading up to the race, plus there was alot of mental abuse from work - I knew 21 hours was going to be too ambitious, so focused on just finishing in under 24 hours. I loved the run, had alot of fun and also some pity pit moments, but I went on to finish second lady in 23.15 which I was pretty happy with.

As the year starts to come to a close, I like to do a challenge or a winter race, and this year, I opted for Racing Dusk in Kananaskis. I set a goal of 4.30, came away with 4.32 thanks to going the wrong way and wasting time on the last lap. But it was a good race - too little snow for my liking in December, but definitely a race I'd like to go back to.

In terms of mileage for this year, I never really set a goal, but I've ran approximately 2,600 miles or 4,200km, in addition to all the walking I do at least twice daily with the pups - I think the most I've ever done in a single year is around 5000 km, so this year's not been too bad at all.

So what do I have planned for 2025? Well, at the minute I'm registered for the hypothermic half 10k where I hope to go sub 43 minutes, then I have Blackfoot Ultra 100km where my goal is sub 10 hours. After that, it's Canadian Death Race for a fourth time with a goal of sub 20 hours. Then it's the unknown - I'm hoping to be selected for the Canadian National Team to compete at the World 24 hour championship in France in October. I have qualified but I need to be selected, and I won't have that confirmed until June. If I don't make the team, you'll just have to watch this space as to what I decide to do!

For now though, thanks to all of you for your continued support, and wishing you all a very happy and successful 2025 :)

Racing Dusk on the Winter Solstice

December is usually the month when I declare my racing season over, and I tend to ease back a bit to allow my batteries to recharge as I start thinking about and preparing for my running goals the following year. Despite easing back, I do still keep things ticking over, and in the past couple of years I have set myself challenges to get me through the festive period, those challenges included The Snow Queen Ultra, the Advent Run Streak, and last year, I decided to do The Dark 24-hour event at the last minute, which saw me racing in early December and hitting 100 miles give or take during the race. This year was no exception, although I didn’t feel fit enough nor focused enough to compete in an ultra. Instead, I found myself registering for “Racing Dusk”, a 20 mile trail race in West Bragg Creek, located in K-Country just outside of Calgary. This year it would be taking place on the Winter Solstice, and I thought it would be a perfect way to finish off my year of running.

The race itself is organised by Jamie Knott who owns and organises Iron Legs Mountain Races that take place in August each year. I love these races as they are grass roots events that offer great value for money, but still have some great swag to help you to hold on to the memories for years to come. The course is a little over 20 miles and consists of three loops which can be completed in whatever order you like, the longest being the Merlin Loop at almost 9 miles, and the other two – Ranger Summit and Telephone Loop – both at around 10km each. Although I used to run on these trails several years ago when living in Calgary, I really couldn’t remember them and with not having done the race before, I didn’t really have much of a strategy, but in hindsight, I would definitely have completed them in a different order that I did.

A 9am start meant that we didn’t have to get up stupid early, and with around 100 competitors, there was quite the atmosphere at the start line despite being a low key race in the depths of a Canadian winter. It was so nice to see a few familiar faces on the start line, but having been away from the Calgary trail running community for well over 10 years now, there were lots of new faces that I didn’t know, but that just provided the perfect opportunity to get to know other people and to share some fun times on the trails with them for the next few hours.

At -1°c, it was a surprisingly mild morning for the race, much warmer than back home in Leduc where that same morning, several cars had ended up in the ditch due to freezing rain.  In Bragg Creek, the sun was starting to break through, and in addition to the milder conditions, there was barely any snow in the ground when compared to back home too. I tend to run warm so I ummed and ahhed over what to wear for the race, not wanting to be too overdressed for the conditions, but neither did I want to be cold, especially with being in a more mountainous area where weather could change quickly. I eventually opted for the EarthGroove medium thickness running tights and a thermal top, but even these turned out to be far too warm by the time I finished. When it came to running shoes, it was a no brainer for me, and I slipped into my old faithful Salomon Spikecross - I'd been told there was a mix of dry dirt, packed down snow, and some really icy stretches out on the course, and the Spikecross turned out to be a good choice on the day.

Start of Racing Dusk

At bang on 9am, the race started and it sure was weird seeing folks heading off in different directions as they worked out their own strategy. I'd decided to complete the Merlin loop first, a distance of around 9 miles and the one with the most vert. Quite alot of the runners headed up the same trail, and we were bunched up for the first couple of miles as we all tried to find out own pace and rhythm. I somehow always end up leading a small group in these races, nobody willing to go past me, but me feeling like I'm being pushed to go faster than I intended. So many times I've moved over to let folks past, only to be told ," oh, you're fine. You're maintaining a good pace, so I'll just tuck in behind you if that's ok" - in all honesty, it drives me nuts, but that makes me sound like a bad sport!

Anyhow, back to Racing Dusk .....

Merlin Loop wasn't so bad. I ran the downs and the rolling sections, but I definitely struggled in the climbs - the hill strength just wasn't there, and hill repeats are definitely something I need to do more of if I want to achieve my goals next year. Although we'd been told there were some dry dirt sections, I wasn't expecting there to be quite so much, especially in December on the Winter Solstice! I tend to do winter races to experience the more extreme cold and snowy conditions, but on Saturday I didn't mind too much - I was running on different trails than I have gone recently, and the lack of snow certainly made things feel easier. But then when we hit the icy sections, some of them were lethal! What made it worse was that the ice was mostly on the bends and on the steeper downhill stretches, the sections where normally I'd be able to make up some time. Everybody was dealing with the same conditions though, so it would ultimately come down to who was the least fearful of taking a tumble - I was reckless, but perhaps not quite as much as I would normally be, and I ran over the ice with some degree of caution, but then really striding out and going for it when the trails cleared a little.

Beautiful morning on Merlin 

Views on Merlin loop

I'd said to Andy that it would likely take me 1 hour 45 mins to do Merlin loop, and sure enough, I came into the aid station and the end of the first loop in around 1.42 - gosh, I'm so good at predicting my times sometimes!

I'd warmed up quite considerably since starting the race and had drank a significant amount of fluids, so Andy handed me fresh bottles of water and Gatorade before I headed out for my second lap.

I still hadn't decided on a race strategy at this point, and as I was facing towards Ranger Summit when chatting to Andy, I decided to go that loop next. Unlike the previous loop which had started off on single track, Ranger was a wider trail on compact snow and minimal ice, at least for the first mile or so. Then the climbing started again, weaving up through the trees towards the summit. It wasn't necessarily steep, but the switchbacks did ascend for quite some time, and I found that I'd slipped back to 13 minute miles as I walked/jogged my way up. There was nobody else on this loop with me, and when I spotted what looked like bear prints and scratch marks in the snow, I became far more aware of my surroundings. Yes, it was December, yes, bears hibernate, and yes, those marks looked old and were already frozen as opposed to fresh markings, but given the warmer temperatures and the fact that bears don't hibernate 100%, I was half expecting to see a big furry critter trying to find a snack whilst I ran through those trees! It was extremely quiet out there, and there was no indication that other runners were in the vicinity, even though I knew there would be somebody close by even if I couldn't see them.

This loop was only 6 miles and before I knew it, I'd reached the summit. Whilst running Merlin just a couple of hours earlier, I hadn't realised that we needed to collect a wristband on each loop to prove we'd completed it - thankfully, another runner asked if I'd picked one up, which I hadn't so doubled back about 100 yards to take one from the bag hanging on a fence post. I wasn't about to make the same mistake, and having spotted a chap sitting on a rock at the top, I also noticed the bag hanging nearby that contained the bands. I collected my pink band, and then almost squealed when turning back to head  down the trail as a large black furry critter ran excitedly towards me. Thankfully it was just a very friendly dog that belonged to the chap sitting there, and I made a huge fuss of it before continuing on my way.

Don't forget the wristband!

The next couple of miles were downhill with good footing, and I found myself running sub 9 minute miles again which helped to claw back some time. With the hills, I'd said to Andy that I should be back in around 75 minutes this time, and so far, I was still on schedule. I was now squealing with joy as I ran back down the hillside, feeling happy and feeling strong. The bare dirt started to turn into compact snow again, but footing was still good, and I was running well as I headed back into the denser treed area where the trail narrowed, and visibility wasn't quite as good as we twisted and turned around the bends. I was getting hungry by now - I'd been running for a good three hours and it was approaching lunch time. I'd been carrying a mars bar and dome wine gums, both of which had frozen solid in my backpack, do I'd stuffed them into my tights pockets, hoping the heat from my legs would defrost them a bit - not only did they defrost, but the mars bar melted and the wine gums were now very squishy, both perfect for eating :)

Other than a couple of other hikers/runners and the dog at the summit, I'd not seen nor heard anything else out on Ranger, but then as I turned a bend, I spotted our good friend Alan Lam just ahead taking race day photos. I haven't seen Alan in an age and I was do nice to see him :)

Heading down from Ranger Summit -
Picture thanks to Alan Lam 

Shortly afterwards, I became aware of approaching footsteps behind me, and I turned to see a male racer quickly gaining on me. I stopped to let him pass, and then hitting a widened trail once again, I could hear the aid station just ahead.

Running into the transition area, I was feeling great, especially with just 6 miles or so to go. Alan had told me that my final loop - Telephone loop - was 10 miles! That concerned me at the time as it meant the race would be 26 miles rather than 20 based on my watch, but having checked the map before I headed off out again, it was actually around 10k which is what I thought. I'd now been on the moved for 3 hours and I anticipated the final loop would take me 75 to 80 minutes, bringing me in well under my target time of 4.30. Feeling confident, I said as much to Andy after refilling my drinks bottles, and told him I'd see him again in a little over an hour. 

Starting my final loop, I was feeling so good! I had a spring in my step, and other than a rumbling tummy that couldn't be quietened my a mars bar and wine gums, everything was feeling great. 

I think I was so caught up in how great I was feeling that I went and made a mistake. I was running up some quite steep switchbacks, and noticed both green and pink flagging, but things didn't feel right. I knew I was meant to be following the green flags this time, but things looked familiar and I had a sense that I'd gone too far up the trail and had started Merlin loop again. I recalled us runners splitting earlier on at the start, and the Telephone loopers had carried on as we'd turned left up Merlin, yet there was no fork in the trail ahead. As the climb became even steeper, I was even more convinced that if gone wrong and hesitated about turning back. I spotted a lady running towards me with a race bib, and asked her if this was Telephone loop - she didn't know. I stood there for about minute before another female racer came down the hill. She was adamant I'd gone wrong, so I turned around and headed back down again, having already gone over half a mile up the hill.

Sure enough when I emerged at he bottom by the parking lot, I spotted a green flag that guided me up a different trail - I should have gone straight on instead of turning, and I was do frustrated at the oversight! I checked my watch and saw that I'd wasted well over 12 minutes already and added over a mile to my race - I STILL had 6 miles to go, I knew there was more climbing, and the 4.15 finish was looking unlikely with even sub 4.30 looking in doubt.

I started to run much harder now, and even though Telephone loop started with a bit of a climb, I made myself run it, my legs and lungs complaining as I made my way up. I overtook my friend Karen from Calgary and we spoke briefly, but I needed to push on, and I felt awful just leaving her behind even though she too was having a great run.

The first couple of miles were on wide, undulating trail, and with more compact snow rather than ice, I was able to get a good pace going. A few hikers were now out on the trails, and I passed a couple of runners, but otherwise the trail was mine again. I was impressed that I was now running pretty much all of the uphills, although when turning off and hitting the single track, I started to struggle again. The patchy icy sections were now annoying me - I needed to run faster but the ice was becoming a hindrance, and the higher I climbed, the more technical and rocky the trail became. I was also starting to feel a little bit lightheaded and trying to focus on the rocky trail was becoming difficult as I stumbled along and tried not to fall over. I'd had the dizziness before and it was likely due to not having eaten or drank enough - add to that the exertion and altitude, my body just isn't used to it.

I eventually reached what seemed like the top of the hill and things opened up a little, providing views of the surrounding mountains. I enjoyed those views,still surprised at the lack of snow out here, and then getting frustrated as I started the long downhill to the finish whilst mastering yet more tricky, icy downhills and trying to stay on my feet..

Gorgeous views and happy, despite the
mistake!

Top of the hill on Telephone 

A few hikers were heading down too, and whilst most if them made way for me to pass, a couple of them were quite rude and ignorant, deliberately standing in my way, grudgingly moving when I said "excuse me", and not even uttering a hello. I never understand why some people are like this and seem to have a sense of superiority over others, but hey it's Christmas, so live and let live :)

The icy downhill went on for some time, and checking my watch, I guessed that I still had a couple of miles to go with 20 minutes available if I wanted that sub 4.30. In normal conditions, I can run a 10 minute mile even on the trails and especially if flat or downhill, but the ice was so bad, and despite wearing spikes, there were parts where I just wasn't getting the grip I needed to run confidently and I found myself clinging to tree trunks when negotiating so one of those switchback.

Shortly afterwards, I rejoined the Merlin loop, and the pink and green flags reunited to lead me back to the finish. My watch was reading 4.25, but I reckoned there was still a mile to go. I speeded up, dodging the ice where I could, and was relieved when the dry dirt appeared again and I was able to stride out. I could hear the finish line music playing, and as I came out of the woods and hit the final snowy section around the parking lot, I picked up my pace to run strongly to the finish line.

I ran across the line smiling - 4.32.15 I think it was, missing my goal by just over 2 minutes and still grumbling at myself for the mistake. But it didn't matter - if finished, I'd finished strong, and Andy was waiting for me at the finish line, ready to feed me and grab me a drink - cinnamon buns and hot chocolate was definitely most welcome!

So on that note, Racing Dusk has concluded my racing year, and I'm happy to have finished it on a high note. It's not been a bad year of running for me, but neither has it been good, but I'm not going to dwell on things that didn't go as planned. I'll do a year end post at some point, but for now, I'm going to enjoy Christmas with our little family, and start planning for some big goals for 2025. Happy Christmas all!

 

 

Post Race Recovery and Back to England Old Chap!

 After the Iron Horse Ultra back in October, I took a couple of weeks off to re over from the race, and just enjoyed a bit of downtime without any pressures. I did a couple of parkruns with my pup Wilson, and even though he recently turned 14 years of age, he still loves to join me on my runs, even though we have to keep them much shorter and slower for him these days. Running with Wilson always makes me so happy, and I really don’t mind if we end up walking most of the route, simply because he’s an old boy now and definitely isn’t as agile as he used to be. I also did a parkrun with one of our other pups, April, and she ran much quicker and finished with a respectable 27 minutes as opposed to Wilson’s 38 – she is capable of going far more quickly, but she can be quite a lazy dog and can’t be bother to put in the effort sometimes, unless she really has to.

Edmonton River Valley parkrun with Wilson

River Valley parkrun with April

Whilst I haven’t really raced since Iron Horse, I did take part in the Warm Hands Warm Hearts Half Marathon back in November. This event is billed as a race, but really it is just a fun social gathering, where the Edmonton running community come together to help the homeless people in the city.  We’d had our first bit of snow by the time the event came around, so the trails were quite icy in parts, but I was happy enough to finish in just under 2 hours which is what I kind of expected given the conditions and the nature of the course.

The day after running the WHWH event, I flew over to the UK for a 10 day break where I was able to spend time with family and close friends. I’d been in the UK back in February but that was a frantic visit where I tried to accommodate everybody’s requests to meet up, whilst also prepping for my attempt on the Staffordshire Way FKT. This time, I didn’t want to be rushing around, and all I wanted was to see our parents and my brother, to go to the seaside (it’s been a long time since we’ve seen the sea with being in landlocked Alberta!), and I wanted to do a longish run over The Roaches, where I could say hello to our old pups Sam and Leo (we had sprinkled their ashes on the moors by the highest trig point), and to revisit places from my childhood, which included Dane Bridge, Castle Rocks, and of course Luds Church.

My memory of the route over The Roaches suggested that it would be a good 15 miles or so, so I was rather surprised when it only turned out to be around 10 miles – I guess I have a different perception of time and distance now I’m all grown up! It was a beautiful day to be running up there though, and it made me happy to rekindle all those memories from years ago. I had a little break by the River Dane where we used to picnics on our hikes years ago, and then had another little break at Castle Rocks where my brother and I used to do lots of rock climbing as kids. the rocks of course seem much smaller now but still wort ha climb for the views off the top. A little Robin came to visit whilst I was sitting on the rocks and I’m sure it was Sam and Leo who had popped down to say a quick hello. I then headed over to Lud’s Church and was still amazed by how it was formed – it was still just as damp and muddy and slippery as I remembered when climbing those stone steps!

Whilst over in England, I also got out on the bike with my dad for a little bike ride along the canal, and even had a snowy run over at Hanchurch Hills, a favourite place of mine from my time running for Trentham RC and whilst living in Stoke. Andy and I also made it to Blackpool to see the illuminations, and then we walked The Golden Mile, visited each of the piers, and even had a little run across the beach as the sun was setting, taking in the beauty of all those golden colours reflecting off the Irish Sea

Beach run in Blackpool

Bike ride with Dad

I was only away for around 10 days, and on returning home from my visit to England, winter had definitely arrived in Alberta, and things have been quite wintery ever since. I’ve always said that I do prefer this time of year – the colder, snowy weather keeps a lot of people indoors, so things are much quieter when I go out for my runs, or when walking the pups at the dog park. I’ve certainly had a few nice runs outdoors since the snow has arrived – cold yes, but I’ve been sure to bundle up to keep warm, and so far, so good. There was one day where it snowed for several hours and when it came to my evening run, there was about a foot of the fresh white stuff to run in, Everything seemed so quiet, I didn’t need a headtorch that night as it was so bright from the snow, and I was able to try out the Icebugs which I had bought last winter and I found them to be far more comfortable and not quite as big on my feet as I was expecting.

Beautiful moonlit nights

Night running in Alberta winters

Although I do prefer to run outdoors, when it comes to doing speed sessions in the winter months, I tend to head to the local recreation centre to either go loopy on the indoor track, or to use the treadmill. I think I’ve been there twice since I arrived back home, and both sessions have been pretty good, hitting fairly decent paces without feeling like I’m going to collapse. I’m certainly nowhere near as quick as I used to be, but I am hoping to get a little bit of speed back over the coming weeks as I do have some lofty goals for next year that I would love to achieve.

Winter running in Devon AB

Although I am already starting to look forward to next year’s racing season, I do have one more race to do, and that is Racing Dusk 20-miler which takes place on December 21st – the Winter Solstice  - down in K-country near Calgary. It’s been a while since I have ran out in Bragg Creek, and so I’m really looking forward to that in a few days time. It isn’t going to be fast, and I certainly don’t expect to podium, but if I can run close to 4 hours 30 minutes, I’ll be perfectly content with that. I shall of course post here once I’ve done the race, just to let you know how I got on.

For now though I do have another run to do, so I shall bid you adieu for now, and I’ll be back again with an update just before Christmas if I can find the time. Happy running, and happy trails my friends!

Tackling the Iron Horse Ultra - 100-miles :)

Training leading into the Iron Horse Ultra had gone well, and even though I knew that getting close to my course record of 21 hours was quite ambitious, I honestly thought that I would be able to do if I had a good day But those of us that are runners will know that whilst running is a physical sport, there is also a mental element to running well, especially when it comes to racing those longer distances. It was the mental side that let me down this time, although it wasn't during the race that I struggled but rather the weeks leading up the race itself, and in hindsight the signs were there that I wasn't going to be able to perform quite as well as I was hoping. 

Let me explain ....

I like to think that for the most part, I am a good person, and I treat people with the respect that they deserve. Although some things do wind me up in life, I tend to be very laid back and easy going, taking things in my stride and trying not to make a big fuss about things. I'm also an introvert, I don't like large crowds or being the centre of attention, and whilst I try to be sociable, I tend to sit in the background and let others do the talking. I bottle things up, it takes me a long time to trust people, but when I pop, I pop, and it's usually over in seconds - I learn, I apologise if I'm in the wrong, and I learn and move on. In all my 50+ years on this planet, I'm lucky that I have only met a handful of nasty, narcissistic characters that have made life difficult, and I have quickly dismissed them from my life, preferring to surround myself with those that bring good vibes, those that are honest and true and realistic, that have a positive and optimistic outlook on life. So it came as quite a shock, a huge disappointment, and an embarrassment, that a couple of months ago I was accused of bullying and harassment in the workplace. What made it worse is that it came from somebody on my team, somebody that I work with and see every single day, somebody that I helped to train and get them up to speed in doing their job, the same job that I do each day. Without going  into too much detail, this person hasn't spoken to me for three months as they are waiting for an apology, yet the result of the external investigation into my behaviours came back as unfounded - it was a false allegation with no basis, and it cleared my name of any wrongdoing. And yet still I am not being spoken to, somebody is still bearing a grudge, and this unnecessary situation is still dragging on, sapping me of emotional, physical, and mental energy that I would normally put into other things, one of those being my running.

Although I'm usually very good at keeping my work life and private life firmly separated, work started trickling into home a few months ago, and in the couple of weeks before Iron Horse, it had become a raging torrent that I was being forced to fight, despite me desperately wanting to just throw in the towel and walk away. It was a distraction from my usual race prep, and ultimately, it led to me not really having the race I believed I was capable of.

Having said all of that, looking back at my race at the Iron Horse Ultra, I do feel like I actually had a good run all things considered, and I am proud that I was able to step up to that line and run as well as I did despite everything that had been going on.

Andy and I drove up to St Paul on the Friday afternoon with Wilson in tow - we had left the girls at home again, but I really needed Wilson there with me as he is amazing emotional support even during a race - having those puppy snuggles when I'm in my pity pit at mile 80 are what will get me going again. I'd missed racing in recent months. I'd not raced since Sinister 7 in July and I had desperately missed the running community - I needed that sense of normality, I needed to spend a good few hours out on the trails in the middle of nowhere to take my mind off things, and I was so glad that I had decided to do the race regardless, especially when I saw so many familiar faces at package pickup, happy faces of people who know me for who I am, and I was so thankful to see them! Their positive energy was contagious, and for the first time in weeks, I was finally getting excited about actually doing the race.

I awoke on race day feeling pretty relaxed and ready to run. I'd had a good night's sleep snuggled up with Wilson, and even Andy had kept his snoring under control so as not to disturb me too much - it was going to be a good day! Andy would of course be crewing me, but we had made things far simpler this time with no drop bags, my plan being to just have crisps and a protein drink at each aid station, and to nibble on snacks whilst on the move in between. 

The start of the race was literally a two minute drive from the hotel, and we arrived with plenty of time to check in, grab a coffee, and stay warm whilst waiting for the start. The weather forecast was calling for a dry and overcast day, but it was going to be a chilly day thanks to the wind, which was expected to gust at 30 to 35kph throughout the day. It was difficult knowing what to wear as the temperatures wouldn't be too bad where we were sheltered, but when exposed to the wind, it could potentially be quite cold, especially if sweating and then cooling down, or moving at a slower pace later on in the race. I eventually opted for two long-sleeved layers, and I was surprised that I wore them for pretty much the entire race, and even added an additional layer when things went dark later on.

This was my third time at the Iron Horse Ultra so I knew what to expect from the course. It definitely isn't a mountainous course, but there are quite a lot of short nasty climbs and some quite technical single track on woodland trails, all of which soon adds up over 100 miles, making it a far tougher race than many actually realise.

The 100 milers started at 6.50am, and I settled into a nice easy pace from the get-go. To hit my goal time of sub 21 hours, I needed to run an average of 12.30 minute miling - that sounded so easy, but experience has told me that it is never easy - so my plan was to run at a pace between 10  and 11 minute miles for as long as possible and whilst terrain allowed - it was inevitable that I would slow later on, and even more so once things got dark.

At the start line with Wilson :)

The wind for the first few miles was absolutely crazy and it made the easy pace feel harder than it should have been. I somehow ended up with a couple of chaps, both running the same pace as me, and whilst it was good to have company, their constant chattering was something that I really didn't want to listen to. I didn't want to slow down as I would start to fall behind schedule far too early but then if I ran faster, I would tire much sooner. In the end, I just stuck with it, and eventually I pulled away from them whilst still maintaining the steady pace I had planned to do.

It had been a few years since I had last ran this race, but everything was still so familiar.The boardwalk alongside the lake brought back the memories of when I had first done this race, watching the sunrise and the mist hovering over the lake. This year it was much different as we battled the wind gusts blasting across the water, and we were greeted instead by thousands of Canada Geese, honking loudly as they mustered others in preparation to head south for the winter. After a short stint through town, we finally joined the Iron Horse Trail, and this wide gravel track would make up a considerable amount of the course.

Although another sell-out race this year, the numbers of people running the race is quite low, especially the 100 miler, and I think there were only around 20 or so that were registered for the longer distance. The others are mostly relay runners or those racing the 100km, and it wasn't long before they started to pass me at a much faster pace having started about 10 minutes after us. My friend Tess passed me by, cheerful and chatty as ever, and it was so nice to see her running so well as she made her intentions known - she was chasing the 100km ladies course record, and was looking strong and determined (not my story to tell, but she just missed out on that record by a mere 2 minutes - great job Tess!)

It was around about 22km to the first aid station at Edourdville, and I was making good time as I followed the old gravel railway track. I was already running mostly solo, but I was feeling relaxed and enjoying being outdoors in the fresh air. I knew that at some point the route would take us up a steep climb and across some farmland, before dropping down to the aid station, and when the climb came, it was just as tough as I remembered. I slowly made my way up the hill, then enjoyed some rolling hills before dropping down into the woodland below. The trail through the woods was overgrown with lots of fallen trees and long grass, and I almost tripped more than once on those hidden roots that like to take out trail runners. I was overtaken by a small group of 100 mile runners, but I wasn't too concerned given that we were still early on in the race, and I figured that at some point, I would likely catch them again in a few hours time.

Running into Edourdville, we were greeted by cheering and clapping from the spectators, and I spotted Andy pretty much straight away, and made my way over to our car that was parked a short way up the road, before grabbing a packet of Ready Salted crisps and downing a 500ml protein drink. I had already been munching on jelly sweets and a Mars Bar and wasn't craving anything specific - I felt like I refuelling pretty well, and so far, so good.

Leg 2 was slightly shorter in distance, and it would take us to the aid station at Moose Mountain. The first couple of miles included a long steep climb on farm track, and I surprised myself by jogging/running most of this climb, before dropping back down a steep hill where we rejoined farmers' fields and evidence of cows. At one point I couldn't see which way the flags went and veered off in the wrong direction - a huge pool of what smelt like silage and a lack of a defined trail made me realise my mistake, and I backtracked for about 5 minutes before noticing the fork in the field that I had missed. I headed up the hill through the trees and spotted the familiar flagging which would lead me the right way. I seemed to remember that we would need to run about 5 miles on gravel road on this leg, and having crossed a few more open fields, we emerged on to the road, and that long, straight stretch of gravel started.

Having done lots of my long training runs on gravel roads around Leduc, I was more than prepared for this, and whilst others found it tough and monotonous, my mind and body were ready for it. I passed quite a lot of runners on the gravel section, and I was running a decent 9 minute mile which felt comfortable even though faster than intended. Feeling good, I went with it, and before I knew it, I was crossing the rutted field and heading towards aid station 2. Spotting Andy, I grabbed more crisps, had the protein drink and I think I grabbed some tea and coffee too as well as refilling my water bottles that I was carrying with me. I was still feeling pretty good, and my stomach was holding out without any queasiness - maybe I could get through an entire race with puking for once! 

Leg 3 is the longest one of the race, and is approximately 25km - maybe more. It also includes "Mean Dean's Hill" - a good long, rutted climb that goes on for a good couple of miles, before turning and having runners go up and down, up and down, up and down - across more rutted fields that on a rainy day would likely sap the energy due to the amount of mud! Thankfully it had been dry and there was no mud, although there were plenty of cowpats, and I was mildly amused that flags had been placed in the piles of dung to lead us in the right direction.

Whilst that climb is tough, the views from the top are so worth it, and the long run down the gravel road provides some fabulous views of Moosehills Lake. I'd been running solo for a few hours now, not really seeing any other runners except when entering and leaving the aid stations, but now I could see a couple of  runners up ahead and I was starting to gain on them. Whilst I enjoy that solitude in races, it is always nice to see other racers and have a chat about how our race is going, offering encouragement and making new friends. I caught them up as we headed down the trail that would take us alongside the lake, and whilst they weren't exactly running slow, I found myself passing them after a few minutes chat. 

After a short stint running through bush and more rutted fields, another short steep climb ensued and I found myself gasping for air as I made the climb. The others started to gain on me again and I was really struggling with my breathing (I forgot to mention that I had been ill with a bad cold, or maybe even Covid, just a week or so previously, and I was still dealing with the aftermath of that viral infection), so much so that they were concerned for me. I explained that all was good and they didn't need to worry about me.

The next aid station was Elk Point, the largest and busiest of them all, and I was looking forward to having some proper food and a change of clothes. The wind was still gusting and bringing a chill, but with the sun making an appearance, I had actually been sweating - some fresh dry clothes were needed, as well as a change of socks as my shoes were full of thistles and gravel that was rubbing around my toes and my ankles. After another stretch of road running where I was able to make up a bit of time, we rejoined the Iron Horse Trail, and it was another 5km or so of flat running in to the aid station. I wasn't feel quite as energised now, a sure sign that I needed to get some more fuel in me despite having been eating pretty well thus far, but I was still making good progress and still on target for at least a sub 22 hours finish if I could hold things together.

Arriving at Elk Point, I went into the heated hut and enjoyed the heat from the woodstove whilst downing some broth, a beef sandwich, some cookies, a protein drink and some crisps. I was actually really hungry and it felt good to have some proper food in my belly. I was half expecting to start puking shortly afterwards once I got running again, but my stomach was still holding up really well which gave me some confidence to keep pushing onwards.

Shortly after Elk Point, the race splits - 100km runners continue on towards Happy Hill, whilst the 100 mile runners complete their additional 60km or so by running a loop that includes two more aid station - Fort George and Lindbergh.

I think the run to St George had been my favourite in previous years, running across open farmland and through woodlands amidst the gorgeous colours of autumn in the trees. Depending on pace, it's also when you notice the sun starting to go down, and you start to prepare yourself for the night ahead and running in the dark. I was still feeling really good and moving well, my hydration was going well, I was still eating and getting lots of fuel inside of me, and I was definitely in my happy place. But after a few miles, we hit a paved road that I didn't remember, and I didn't recall just how far we ran on that road. I thought we turned off at some point and spent far more time on woodland trails, yet this road just went on and on and on. Seeing the long straight road ahead of me was tough, especially after two or three miles of hearing my watch beeping, telling me yet another mile had passed by with no sign of us turning anytime soon. Mentally I was starting to struggle - I was getting bored, I hated that road, I tried to run but the motivation definitely wasn't there, and when my watch told me that we had already ran 12 miles, I started to wonder whether I had missed a turn and had somehow skipped the aid station. Looking back, I saw a group of other runners in the distance, so I knew that I must be on the right track - I just did not remember all this road!!!

Finally, I spotted an arrow that took me to the right and with relief, I made that turn, following a lovely woodland track, and then entering the parkland area that signified that the aid station at Fort George wasn't too far away. The trail was carpeted with fallen leaves, a golden pathway that made me think of the yellow brick road in the The Wizard of Oz - funny how the mind works during a race!

Running in to Fort George, Andy was once again waiting along with Wilson, and I had a good snuggle with Wilson and shared a little bit of food with him. I also needed to go poop desperately, and it was a good poop, one of the best I've had in a race, and still my stomach was feeling good and there was no nausea. I was so impressed with my nutrition so far - it was obvious that the crisps and protein drink were doing the trick, whilst the more stodgy food was keeping the gas out of my tummy and preventing those pangs of hunger I normally have.

I'd been spending around 20 minutes at the aid stations - probably too long in all honesty and I would have liked to have got in and out more quickly, but my race was going pretty well and taking my time now meant I was more likely to keep things going later on.

Leaving Fort George, it was already starting to go dark, and I was treated to an incredible sunset as I headed down towards the trail which would take me along the banks of the river for a short while. 

Beautiful sunset alongside the river :)

I bumped in my friend Andy down by the river, had a brief chat and then I cracked on - it's always good to see familiar faces when you're doing these races! The footing alongside the river is quite technical, and it would be so easy to trip and fall into the water, but thankfully I maintained my balance, and before I knew it, I was heading back up again , scrambling over a stile and joining more farmland. Up ahead, I could see a herd of cattle, some of them with calves. It was my first encounter with cows that day, and there were lots of them! I'm not afraid of cows, but I do know that running can freak them out, so I walked calmly through the middle of them, some of them still getting spooked and running in the opposite direction, whilst others just stood and stared at me, watching me cautiously whilst munching on the grass. I left the cows behind and came to a treed area where I heard rustling and something moving about, nearly jumping a mile when three cows came sauntering out right in front of me ... bloody hell!!

Heckled by the cows!

Having navigated the cows, I once again hit the gravel road, this time it would take me all the way into Lindbergh where the next aid station was located. The first year I did the Iron Horse Ultra, I was chased by dogs down this road for about a mile, so I was half expecting farm dogs to come running out to chase me down again. Fortunately, this year was much quieter, and all I experienced was the company of other runners that caught me as I was approaching the town.

One of the things I love about running in these kind of places at night is the vast open skies, and with no light pollution, those stars looks absolutely amazing! I always find myself gawping upwards, mesmerised by the beauty of the night skies, and trying to identify the constellations that I learnt about as a child. Tonight was no exception, and it provided a distraction from yet more road running. Before long, I joined the trail that took me into town, and completing the loop through the nearby woods and around the houses, before coming into the Lindbergh aid station which is at around 100km.

I was pretty cold when I came into Lindbergh and I sat in the car to warm up a little. I changed into thermal tights and a couple of thermal tops, but my hands were absolutely freezing and I just couldn't get them to warm up. I downed some hot drinks and more soup, making sure I had some bread to add that stodge again, and also ate some sweets and chocolate to keep my energy levels up. Despite being cold, I was feeling ok. I had by now slowed somewhat and I knew that I wasn't going to run sub 21 hours - even sub 22 hours was slowly slipping away - but if I could still run under 24 hours, I would be happy. I didn't have my crisps nor protein drink at Lindbergh, but given I had still had a good mix of food and drink, I figured I would be ok.

12 miles or so of the Iron Horse Trail lay between Lindbergh and Elk Point, and whilst it's flat and relatively easy running, mentally it's tough, especially when it's dark. Running by the light of my headtorch, all I could see for about 100 yards ahead of me was the gravel track lined my trees, and tunnel with what appeared to have no end. Things had now become more a case of run/walk, and I was trying to keep things at around 13 minute miles, running for 3 minutes, and then walking for 1, or something similar. Some sections of the trail were quite muddy with huge puddles, but otherwise it was just continuous gravel which was making my feet feel quite sore. Normally I can do 12 trail miles in a couple of hours, but it was getting close to three hours and I was getting frustrated, just wanting this leg to end, but all I could see beyond the light of my torch was pitch black whilst all I could hear was the occasional moo of a cow or the hoot of an owl. I would see a light ahead, I would think it was the light of a house and I would be entering Elk Point soon, but it would turn out to be car headlights on a distant road.

One foot in front of the other, forward continuous progress - eventually I saw the lights of town, and a few minutes later, the glow of the fire pit at the aid station, drawing me in to the warmth of the wooden hut where I could get warm again and get some hot food inside of me. With moving much more slowly, I was definitely feeling the chill, and I desperately need to get warmed up.

Sitting beside that woodstove for a second time that day felt so good, and I could feel the sleepiness sneaking in. I had a hot chocolate and some chicken soup, and also ate another beef sandwich. But whereas earlier I had eaten with relish, now it was a struggle even though I knew that I needed to eat and drink. I was now at 77 miles, I still hadn't been sick, and it was the furthest I had ran without GI issues for many, many years. I wasn't feeling queasy, my stomach was still behaving itself, but things definitely didn't feel as they had earlier. I really wanted the  crisps and protein drink again as that had been working for me so far, but I had already spent far too long at Elk Point and needed to get moving, otherwise 24 hours wouldn't even be on the cards. I gave Andy a hug and set off on leg 6 towards Happy Hill, another 13 miles away.

Just 5 minutes or so after leaving Elk Point, the queasiness came, and then the next minute, I was throwing up all the food I had just eaten.  77 miles before I had puked - I was impressed, but also disappointed. I knew I should have kept having the crisps and protein drink - they were both easy on my stomach and providing me with exactly when I needed, but I had skipped them at Lindbergh and also at Elk Point, and now I was paying the price - dagnammit!

Of course I felt tons better having been sick, and I started to run again, albeit slow. I started to nibble on the food I was still carrying whilst trying to curb the rumblings in my belly, and I took sips of water and coke to make sure I stayed hydrated. Thankfully the next couple of miles were once again on the Iron Horse Trail, so footing was good and I wasn't going to trip on tree roots or rocks, or fall into the river.

As I made my way to Happy Hill, yet again I felt like the course had changed considerably from what I remembered. Having come to the end  of the trail and ran along a paved road for a mile or two, a right turn took me onto a road that started paved, then gravel, then more of a dirt track with grasses mounds in between. It was a constant up and down for about 5 miles, and I remember the lady at the last aid station saying that there were 10 hills that we went up and down before we finally hit the fields towards Happy Hill. She wasn't wrong, and by the 9th hill, I was definitely feeling it in my legs, whilst I could now feel my toes bruising from the downhills. I could see lights ahead of me so I knew there were other runners close by, but with the constant up and down, the lights kept disappearing in to the darkness.

Eventually leaving that dirt track, I found myself running on a trail where there were lots of low hanging tree branches, and there was some bushwhacking as I tried to find my way through the maze of trees that had been put before us. Some of the flags were difficult to see in the dark, the reflective markers either lost or hidden and therefore not visible in the light of my torch, and on a couple of occasions I hesitated over which direction I needed to take. As the trail flattened out, there was more scrub on the ground making the flags even harder to see. I shone my torch in every direction but couldn't see where I was meant to go. I followed what I thought was a trail, only to find it ended with more scrub, and when backtracking, I was unable to see the last flag I had passed. I spent a good 10 or 15 minutes wandering around in circles, trying to find out which direction I needed to go, and then eventually, I saw a reflective marker on a fence post some 20 metres away and definitely not in the direction I would have expected. Cursing and swearing, I stumbled over towards the marker and then joined a well defined wide grassy trail up through the woodlands.

It was quite spooky running through those trees - pitch black, silent, and me completely alone. After a short while, I passed a small hut hidden in the trees, my headtorch lighting up the windows and showing dark shadows. It creeped me out a bit as I found myself thinking of horror films like cabin in the woods and suchlike - silly that signs of humans scare me more than the signs of animals (unless it's a bear or cougar - that DOES scare me!) More narrow single track, more ups and downs, more ducking and diving through trees as I made my way towards the Happy Hill aid station, yet no lights visible, no sounds, nothing, except the sound of my own breathing and my footsteps snapping twigs as I ran along.

It was feeling like I had been running to Happy Hill for absolutely ages, but finally I saw the lights ahead, and I just had one final climb before I would be able to have a short break and refuel. I sent Andy a quick message to let him know I would be there shortly, hoping he would have a hot drink and some hot food ready for me. Arriving at the top of that hill, I didn't see Andy, but I did see Laura and Matthew, and boy was it great to see them! I gave them a huge hug, and then went inside the warm tent where I tried to drink and eat some food. Although the earlier vomiting had made me feel better and I was no longer feeling nauseous, I tried to eat but just couldn't seem to ingest anything.Andy came along and gave me some food and drink, but it really was just nibbling and sipping now and I really should have been consuming far more. I kept telling myself that I only had 13 miles to the finish - I could get through that on zero fuel if I needed to, just so long as I got something inside of  me now.

The chilly night air was now causing me to seize up a bit and I knew that I needed to get moving again, so I said a fond farewell to my friends, gave Andy a hug, and set off on the final leg of the Iron Horse Ultra - next stop would be the finish line. I had no doubt that I would finish, I also had no doubt that I would finish under the time limit - what I wanted now was to make sure that I finished in under 24 hours.

Although heading towards the finish, that final leg is definitely not my favourite simply because I knew there was a lot of road running ahead. It isn't just the road - it's gravel road, and my feet were already a little sore from sliding around on gravel, and the small bits of grit that had got into my shoes. I also knew that there were at least two more good climbs on this leg - one shortly after leaving Happy Hill, and the other about 10k from the finish. I was still moving, I was still moving well, but it was becoming more difficult to muster a run or even a jog, and I was now at the point of power hiking to hit that sub 24 hours. Every time I tried to run, my legs just felt stiff and tight, whilst the cold air was now getting onto my chest and my breathing was becoming a little wheezy.

Apart from a few spectators cars to-ing and fro-ing to Happy Hill, there was nobody else around, and so I was back to running solo through the dark night with just my own thoughts and conversations for company. I managed the steep climb up the gravel road, yet again amazed by the starry skies above and turning off my torch just to admire this small part of the vast universe that was out there, and then on hitting the summit, I  tried to take advantage of the steep downhill by running a little, scrunching my toes in my shoes to prevent the nails from bruising.

I spotted the arrow that would take me through the woods again, this section much longer than I remembered, much more overgrown than I remembered, and I found myself tripping on fallen trees, landing heavily on my hands and arms, the shock of the fall vibrating through the rest of my tired body. I dragged myself up off the ground, annoyed at myself for falling and trying to get moving again. The A-frame stile coming out of the woodland section was tough as I tried to throw my legs over the top step to climb down the other side, and then I rejoined a section of the Iron Horse Trail once again. 

There was absolutely no light along here, the fir trees making the track feel enclosed and a little claustrophobic with just the beam of a torch, and the trail once again just seemed to go on forever. A sudden sound to the left of me had me turning to glance at what could be lurking there, and I spotted a couple of deer making haste in to the trees, probably more afraid of me that they needed to be.

I was still doing my walk/run technique and getting more and more frustrated at following the exact same track with a turn, but then I saw the arrow that would take me up the final climb, to the top of a hill where I would see the lights of St Paul in the distance. This section was also terribly overgrown and the flags were difficult to spot. I also had to scrabble over a wobbly gate which was becoming slippery with frost as the temperature fell below freezing.My legs were already unsteady and I was worried about falling and hurting myself, but I somehow made it over unscathed and progressed up the hill.

I tripped a couple of times in the long grass whilst crossing the field towards the farmhouse, and I was so glad to finally hit the gravel road that would take me back to St Paul. It was around about 5am as I ran past the houses alongside the road, and being a Sunday morning, all were in darkness as people enjoyed a sleep-in for the day. It's always a strange feeling running through areas with houses in the overnight period, those people oblivious to the fact that we have been out there running for hours and will shortly complete a 100-mile journey, whilst they have been tucked up in bed, snug and warm.It also makes me appreciate my own warm and comfy bed once I'm finished and I finally get home to rest!

Heading in to the final few miles of the race, I knew it was now pretty much road all the way. My watch had been pretty accurate in providing me the distance between aid stations when compared to the course description, and it was now reading around 93 miles. Very rarely is a trail race accurate in distance - sometimes they can be shorter or longer than advertised simply due to the nature of trail races, GPS and course measurements - so I was hoping that this one would be slightly shorter and I only had 5 miles to go or something. I kept on running down that gravel road, the city lights not really getting any closer, and no turnoffs from that road, and my watch just kept on measuring, kept on beeping as the miles slipped by far more slowly than I was hoping. 94, 95, 96 .... surely we must be nearly in town by now ... 97, 98 ... and still that road seemed to keep on going. I was getting so frustrated yet again, just wanting the race to be done by now, and just wanting a hot cup of tea and a warm bed. My running time was now close to 23 hours so I knew I was going to break the 24, but I wasn't sure by how much.

One more road crossing, and then  500m or so later, there was a bend in the road - "This is it!" I thought, thinking that the finish line was about one mile away. The street lights became more frequent and much brighter, and as I rounded another corner, I saw the hotel that we had stayed in the previous night. I was expecting to turn right at the traffic lights, but no, the flags led us straight up and it looked like we were heading out of town again. What the what???!!! I started swearing and cursing again, not happy that we were being taken the long way round ..."why the eff have they brought us this way when we could have gone that way??" And then I saw it - the Reunion Station about 400m away, the glow from the fire pit drawing me in, whilst the lights inside the building brought comfort that I was almost done.

I'd like to say that I ran that last 400 metres, but I didn't have anything in my legs and it was a shuffle as I crossed the finish line, my time being around 23 hours and 15 minutes. It wasn't as fast as I would have liked, but I had finished, and I had gone sub 24-hours once again, despite all the recent crap, despite having had a viral infection, and at the grand age of almost 52 - I was happy.

Andy missed me finishing, but he arrived shortly afterwards, and we headed straight back to the hotel to have an very early breakfast before going to bed for a few hours. My legs were throbbing, I was feeling fidgety and knew I wouldn't likely be able to sleep, but that was ok - my tummy was full with food, I'd had my fill of tea, and I could now relax and at least have a doze, whilst snuggled up with my little boy Wilson feeling much happier and far more content having finished my race season on a positive :)

Finishers' medal
I was 2nd lady and 6th overall on the day :)

The dreaded pre-race lurgy

 It's just over a week now until the Iron Horse Ultra 100-miler, and training for the race has gone exceptionally well with my weekly mileage exceeding 100km for the past three weeks, and one week it was around 125km! That's definitely high mileage for me, but I have been feeling pretty good for the most part, the only hindrance being the heat which only abated in the last week or so - we're now back to more autumn like temperatures, which includes cooler days and much cooler evenings!

Autumn running and my favourite time of the year! :)

The hubby is still away in India so the doubling up of long runs on a weekend has been hard - I hate leaving the dogs on their own when they've already spent a the work week home alone, waiting in anticipation for me to get home from work which is when I take them for their daily mayhem at the dog park. But doubling up I have done, and with some 50+ km days on the weekends, my body has certainly started to feel the benefits. 

50km run day in Devon :)

I have still being maintaining those speed sessions during the week too, but they've felt clumsy rather than smooth as I seem to have fallen into that ultra runner's shuffle again rather than the grace and speed of those gazelles I often imagine myself being! I've thrown in a couple of parkruns too, and whilst I've not got anywhere close to my PR in Edmonton, I have at least been consistently running under 23 minutes which I have been relatively happy with.

River Valley parkrun :)

This week was meant to have been my final big push before race day, but having got back from a 3 and a half hour run last Sunday, I felt a little drained and didn't feel like going out for another couple of hours later in the day was going to bring any benefits - I just didn't want to do it. It had been quite a warm day again and I had once again ran out of water despite carrying 2 litres with me, so I just put the fatigue down to dehydration. I didn't make the connection with the mild sore throat I'd had going to bed the previous night after volunteering at the Rivers Edge Ultra for part of the day, but in hindsight, the signs were there.

Volunteering at REU with the pups :)

Come Sunday evening, I had a throbbing headache, but despite taking pills, it just wasn't easing at all. I was off work on the Monday anyway, so just pottered around doing my thing, and other than a strength session, I didn't need to do a run that day. The headache persisted all day though, and I was starting to get a little snuffly with it. I've had Covid twice in the past, and this was how it started both times, except this time I'd had a sore throat - either way, it looked like I was to be struck down with the lurgy ... ugh!

I awoke Tuesday morning at my usual time to head to work, but I definitely didn't feel great. I popped a couple more headache pills to help me through the next couple of hours as I headed into the office, but as the day progressed, I just started to feel even worse. I finally gave in mid-afternoon, heading home for the rest of the day, and ended up falling asleep for couple of hours, snuggled up with Wilson and Tillie on the bed. The remainder of the day didn't see any improvement, although I did manage to eat something having had no appetite for a couple of days, so I was kind of hoping it meant I would feel much better by today.

A few days ago, before the lurgy struck - these pups
are amazing and look after me so well! :)

Sadly, Wilson was also poorly during the night and kept waking me up every hour to go outside. It din't help me to rest, and I awoke at 6am still feeling pretty rotten. I decided to stay home for another day to just rest and hopefully recover. My nose is still stuffy, and I am coughing up rubbish from chest, so I definitely have a cold or something - the only positive is that the headache has gone which makes a huge difference. Of course with having a cold or whatever it is, I won't be running until things have cleared up and I get my energy levels back. Having a 100 mile race in about 10 days time does concern me, but it is 10 days, I am starting to feel a little better, so maybe all that training will still be put to good use.I really need a good race at Iron Horse, one that will give me confidence again and that will reward all the prep I have been doing, but I also know that I can only do what my mind and body will let me do, and that health for me comes first. I keep telling myself that so long as I can do a  couple of runs this weekend at a comfortable pace and not feel wiped out afterwards, I will be ok. It's also the final race in the 5 Peaks Trail Running series out in Devon, so I have put my name down to marshall again. Given how much time I have spent on my own this past 5 or 6 weeks, being surrounded by running friends is just what I need, even if I'm not running myself at the minute.

The trail running community truly is remarkable, and they have a great way of picking each other when others are feeling down, so I am definitely looking forward to that on Sunday. In the meantime, I'll just take things a day at a time with this lurgy, and hopefully my body is strong enough to fight it off and then be ready to do a rather long run in a few days time!