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Monthly Archives: April 2015

In 2014 I ran more than 20 races and an additional 15 virtual races, that’s getting to be an expensive hobby. So I’m monitoring costs of running in 2015 and it’s already mounting up. Why am I doing this? Well firstly because of a blog post by ahealthiermoo which looked at the cost of running and secondly because I’ve become very aware that I spend way too much money on running.

Below is a breakdown of money spent in 2015

Races Vigo 10 £20, Darent Valley 10km £16, Ranscombe Challenege Day 1 and 2 £35 each day, CCC (+ map booklet, bus, etc) €150, Saintelyon €80, Hugin Challenege £35, Tolkien Run £35, Virtual Run March £6, Virtual Run June £10, Beachy Head £35 Kent Roadrunner £38 TP100 £125 SDW50 £65 NDW100 Free


Kit
Salomon 14+3 running vest £94 Hoka Challenger ATR £99 Inov8 Race Ultra 270 £99 Salomon soft flask 150ml £12 Compressport Trail shorts £65 Compressport trail top £50 Altra Lone Peak 2.0 £103.50 Runderwear Briefs £16 Drymax socks £25 Medical certificate £10 Gel Toe Caps £10 Compeed £20 Harvey’s Thames Path Map £12 Inov8 Roclite 295 £65 Montane Neo Further Faster Waterproof Jacket £215 Like the Wind £9

Travel Flights (London – Geneva) £380 Car hire £300 Eurostar (London – Lyon) £200 Lyon accomodation £300 UltraBaby passport £48

Race Day Costs Food, Gels, etc £40 (approx) Petrol Variable

Physiotherapy and sports massage £300

There are lots of things I’m not considering in these costs such as the actual petrol, souvenirs of the bigger events, return postage for online running purchases, races purchased pre2015, the free accommodation I’ll be getting during the CCC and the fact i’ll probably buy more race entries, more kit and more extras because running is my hobby.

The total approximate running cost, for the first 4 months of 2015, is £3073.

This to me seems like a lot – and I know I’ve got some big races coming up this year with specific mandatory kit and certain kit I particularly want to use – but the cost of running seems to be spiralling. I’m fortunate to be in a position where I can afford to race the races I want to but not everyone is so fortunate and is it possible that running and especially racing regularly might well become something of an elitist thing where only those that can afford to do it, do it. I wonder if I’d still run as much as I do if I couldn’t afford to run ultras or earn medals and enter epically fun events? Would I run as much if the only events I entered where free ones like Sweatshop Running Community or Parkrun? The answer is actually ‘probably not’

Rather a sad thought I think.

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I was 47 miles in at Winter 100 when I finally had to say ‘the pain is too great’ or ‘fuck me, I’m soooo fucked’.  I had burning rods of lightning running up and down my right leg, it was truly horrible – the result was several months of complete rest and then a race to be ready for the Thames Path 100.

The getting ready has been happening, Vigo, Brands Hatch, Ranscombe Double, SDW50, Darent Valley – more than 700 training miles and 120 race miles since my return to running in late January – but it’s hit and miss. One day, fine; the next day, agony and even my excellent physio is stumped by the intermittent nature of the pain.

Annoyingly, in the lead up to the Thames Path 100 my glutes are playing up and making me feel tense about running but my Winter 100 failure makes me more determined to do this than ever. So ready or not I’m coming. 

  Normally when I leave my job I slip out on my final day, without saying anything, when people go to lunch or I tell people to go and fuck themselves because I’ve not enjoyed my time there. But thanks to @MarathonWoman52 and the insatiable Flávio I was given a delightful and comforting send off, it was a good way to go and it was given to me by people I genuinely consider friends. 

However, my thanks must go further and I’d like to say thank you to @MarathonWoman52 for my first ever leaving presents – they are not only awesome but also perfectly suited to me and when I go to my new job tomorrow I will dance like a graceful swan through the door and be singing the tune to ‘Fireball XL5’. You know it’s true…

  

   

  
‘You little fucker’ is what I said to him and then smothered him with all the love I have in my body. I thought the big monster in my life was on his way out and all I knew was that it wasn’t his time. 

When I went home last night (Tuesday) the GingaNinja and I looked at each other and simply burst into tears, our much maligned but always loved spaniel wasn’t there – he was in hospital, awaiting his MRI, this was scarier than the time he put the shits up us by pretending he had cancer. But this time he’s been a bit of a pale imitation of himself for a while, however, we put it down to the arrival of UltraBaby, the attempt to integrate another dog into the house and all the general changes our lifestyle has gone through.

  
  But more recently he’s taken himself off to his bed, avoiding playtime, avoiding company and that’s not our ThunderPad. More worryingly was his inability to leap into the boot of the car and a lethargy that meant that just an hour or two of walking was more than he could handle and that’s not our ThunderPad.

When he arrived back from his latest little holiday to Wiltshire I was asked to carry him out of the car and into the house. What then happened was a level of whimpering and whining that I’d never known him to commit to – my heart absolutely sank. 

 The GingaNinja being a vet knew that something was wrong but being sensible and too emotionally attached called in one of her colleagues and then another to make sure she was making the right choice – referral and an MRI. 

The fears that she had were numerous, from slipped disc in his back to a tumour pressing down on his spine. It turns out that (unsurprisingly) he’s not built very well and has some back leg issues and a lack of strength in that region which is causing nerve problems, which in turn have been causing him significant distress.

The doctor told us that it could hopefully be managed with pain relief and a cocktail of drugs and that if we were lucky we could avoid surgery for the time being.

However, my over active Spaniel, now powered by Tramadol amongst other things, is keen not to spend the next six weeks in bed. ThunderPad is keen to be out and about chasing foxes, birds, flies, air … The list goes on but he’s restricted to his bed (or supervised in one room at a time). This is not going to suit him – but he’s alive and he’s okay.

The sad news for me is that he will probably not run long distance with me anymore. Even if his recovery was 100% I’m not sure I’d ever want to risk him over a 20 mile hilly trail run. I suspect he’s going to become a 5km plodder and maybe in the future a ParkRunner and I’ll be happy enough with that. 

 

        

‘That’s right Kathryn … just like a bear I like taking a shit in the woods’ – these were the words I left my boss with as she went on to her annual leave. She’s American, not 100% sure about my deadpan style of humour and it amuses me to tell her I leave big pooey deposits in the woods and then simply hang up the phone. You may call this childish and in fact it is but talking about it brings me to a problem that has been causing me nonstop grief for my last few races … that’s right the pre-race poo and the effect of not having it.

Now this is the final warning you’re getting, this post may contain words like poo, dump, turd, anal sphincter, streaky, sloppy or worse, you have been warned.

So far in 2015 I’ve raced 7 times and of those 7 races I’ve had problems on 4 occasions.

Let’s start at the Vigo 10 where my lack of ability to use the facilities (in this case because of forgetfulness) caused me to squeezing my arse cheeks together from about mile 2. There is no doubt that my need to keep my peachy cheeks pursed will definitely have had an effect on my time at the race.

The Brands Hatch Half came next and this time my need to use the facilities wasn’t seemingly needed until about mile 3 of the race – thankfully I was able to pull in at one of the facilities later in the race (but I had already used the facilities fully that morning). I mean seriously body, could you not hang on?

Next up was the SDW50 – the good news is that on an ultra I’m always prepared for this eventuality (poo bags and shit roll) but I was lucky that I wasn’t caught short until well beyond mile 40 and actually it would be more problematic to stop and shit than simply keep going. The bonus here was I’d managed to visit the little boys room at the start and despite my fear that my deposit was simply an uncorking it proved just the tonic to get me most of the way around. However, I had been concerned that very much like the 2014 edition of the SDW50 I might have to find a discreet place and do like the bears do. Weirdly I had a little smile as I went past the place I had stopped last year, not so much happy memories as glad I wasn’t stopping there again.

And finally to the Darent Valley which despite only being a 10km proved that ‘poo’ can fuck you over whenever it wants. I knew it was going to be a problem because it was an 8.30am start, I needed to leave the house by 6.40am and I was cycling on rough roads and toughish hills – all these things have a habit of making me need the loo.

I was aware on arrival that my morning visit to mr armitage and mr shanks would be due shortly but the brewing of my morning offering would be incomplete before the race commenced. What to do? History has shown that running and needing to have a crap causes all sorts of physical and mental problems but trying to force Mother Nature is probably never a good idea 10 minutes before the race begins.

There was no compromise I was going to have to run with ‘the urge to go’. With a bit of luck and a fair wind (poor choice of words) I’d be back in 45 minutes or so and could then avoid the large crowds of people queueing and make my call of nature.

However, more than on any other race this year the pain was excruciating, stomach cramps, sphincter clenching and a mental fear that I was going to douse myself in filth going up or down a hill was my only thought as I hit the second kilometre marker. You will of course be pleased to hear that I made it back to the finish without leaving any UltraBoy fecal matter on the mean hills of Kent but there is no doubt that the pain I was in and the urgent need to go is having an effect on my times and at the Darent Valley it was noticeable.

What’s Happening? Undoubtedly I get nervous pre-race and know that a lot of runners do and the galloping trots is not unheard of. Also not unheard of is the fear of using the portaloos/toilets – myself included. I will never forget the state of one of the toilets at C2C in the pub at the start line, the poo was poking above the toilet seat line – if you saw that you’ll never forget it, nor did you want to use it (additionally though I’d like to praise the organisation of the C2C team, the toilet issue was beyond their control).

Then there’s the shaking and the jiggling of the running (and in the case of my last 10km the cycling) which just makes everything that bit more mobile in the colon! And sometimes the effect of this is that you’ve simply got to go in public. My experience at my first SDW50 was so mortifying that it brings tears to my eyes simply thinking about it, but the worst bit was it took me more than 5 miles to find a discreet spot not too far off the course that I could relieve myself with some modicum of privacy.

What do I do? Well no chilli, no curry, nothing spicy, nothing too salty or sugary in the days leading up to a race – I eat bland food, increase vegetables and avoid things I know will upset me. I try and rotate my day round a little bit so that I can hopefully visit the little boys room earlier in the day without it feeling unnatural and I try and sleep more than I do in a normal week – all of this helps but I believe that my preparation for races in 2015 has been less structured and this might be the cause of my race day toilet disasters.

Curious? I’m somewhat curious about other peoples poor pre race toilet experiences and how they have coped with them? Not out of some weird fetish but more to see if there is something else I can do to resolve getting to the start line with stomach cramps or the need to be clenching inside! I can believe this is a post that won’t be to everyones taste (poor choice of phrasing again) but it is one of those topics that we have pretty all been affected by but avoid talking about because it is pretty grim.

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I’m not doing as many races as I normally do in any given year but there was one that opened on April 13th that I couldn’t resist – The Saintelyon.

It was brought to my attention by Cat Simpson last year (but sadly too late for either of us to enter) however, after seeing it I decided that this was a must for 2015 and so I’ve entered. I am so looking forward to racing through the night, in France at the start of December, for 72km and the question for you should be (given that Eurostar will run direct from London to Lyon) why the hell aren’t you joining me?

Visit www.saintelyon.com and watch the video

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