Two Oceans Ultra Marathon 2014

Two Oceans Marathon

                We arrived in Cape Town almost a week before the race to do some sightseeing and soak up the atmosphere. It was absolutely fantastic! We saw wildlife, toured wineries, and gazed at the end of the continent. I won’t pretend I got much running in, but I did a lot of walking and early mornings.

                Race day was so exciting! The runners at the start sang popular folk songs and they took cell phone pictures in the dark. The vast majority of runners were South African, yet they were just as excited to be there as I was. Finally, they whole group fell silent before belting out their national anthem. I have been brought to tears many times at race starts from singing my own national anthem, (yes, I am a patriotic mush,) but it was no less moving to hear the South Africans raise their voices in song. If anything, it was more powerful knowing their own freedom is so recently won!

                I always hang back at the start of a race because warming up is very important with my rheumatoid arthritis. Knowing I would be finishing close to the end of the time limit, I kept an eye on how many runners were behind me. At first, there were not many and I was spooked into picking up my pace, but within a couple of miles I made myself relax and ran the pace I had planned.

                The first 18 miles were kind of a blur. We ran through cities and farms, waving at spectators, and getting our early miles in at a brisk pace. There was an occasional slight incline or decline, but no hint of the hills that lie ahead.

                One of the really fun things about this race were the bibs. Each runner had one in the front and on the back. Along with the number were the runners first name, how many times they had completed the race before, (half or full), and if they were over 30, their age group. I don’t think I have ever been in the company of so many 40 year olds at once, LOL.

 This was Johns 29th ultra run!

                I did meet a barefoot runner on the course. He was from Amsterdam and this was his first time going over 50k barefoot. I was a little worried about him when we hit a patch of older pavement. He seemed to have a hard time with it, but I saw him again many times on the course and that seemed to be the only time he struggled.

                The water packets were a bit of a surprise. When I heard the description of them, I thought they would be like the ones I have seen in England, but these were much smaller and simpler. Each one had about 2 ounces of water in it and the bag had no designated opening. To get the water out, you had to rip into it with your teeth and hope that, in the process, you did not lose most of the water. I did not mind getting covered in half a baggie of water when I blew it opening the bag. I did not even mind all that much when a runner next to me would squirt half of it on me opening his own bag, or even when someone stepped on a full one and it sprayed 3 or 4 runners since it was hot and the water was generally cool and refreshing. The baggies of Powerade were another story. That stuff made everything it got near sticky!

Water baggies

                   We dipped down and made our pass along the Indian Ocean enjoying a cool breeze off the water and watching the beach goers relaxing in the autumn weather. It was lovely and I was enjoying myself while keeping an eye on my pace. Up to that point I was exactly on track. To finish the race before the course closed, 7 hours after the gun, I needed to maintain a 12 mpm average across the whole race. Giving myself 11 mpm in the first half and 13 for the hilly second half was shaping up to be a good plan.

Slogging up Chapman's Peak

I could live with the bags of water, but there was an understandable issue with the litter they created. Since they did not want baggies all over the national park, they decided to use water trucks and biodegradable cups. This sounds like a great idea, but did not go as smoothly as planned.  They did not count on the number of runners that would take more than one cup to drink or dump over their head. They also could not fill them very far ahead of time without the cups disintegrating. This resulted in a lot of people trying to get water from a hose that was dribbling it out of the truck. People desperate for water are pushy and aggressive, but I only saw one person being outright rude. The official word was that they did not run out of water, but really, if you can’t get the water out to the runners, you might as well be bone dry. That was my only complaint about the race though. Thankfully I was carrying a couple of bottles and was able to snag some ice cubes at one stop and follow a couple of other runners to a spigot a little ways off the course so I was okay. I feel bad for the people behind me though as I am sure the situation got progressively worse rather than better.

Awesome spectator!

The views were so spectacular!

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The little black dots on the beach are horses

Approaching The Sentinel

The sun was intense

Coming up on our first water stop without water

Same as above from a different vantage point. I was shocked to see runners stretched out so far behind me!

Fun band in the middle of nowhere

The Sentinal, Haut Bay

Despite the water shortage, Chapman’s Peak was absolutely breathtaking! The views of the ocean were amazing. There were even bands and supporters far up the mountain who had to have hiked there on their own. One lady was standing in the brush on the side of the road playing the violin for us! We had lots of time to enjoy the view since everyone around me was reduced to a walk. No matter, we had made good time to the hill, we could take our time going up.

After Chapman’s peak we picked up the pace back down to the Atlantic Ocean. A short bit of flat was a reprieve before the next climb up Constantia neck. The population of spectators was really picking up. People were cheering, kids were running along collecting the foam visors we had been given in our swag bags and they were thrilled when I stopped for a picture. It was turning into a real party atmosphere just when we needed it the most. There was lots of music, live and recorded, and drink stops were coming about one per mile. Constantia neck was much more wooded so we had wonderful shade to go with the great entertainment.  Finally, we crested the top with great fanfare before heading down. Other than one short uphill bit, it was all downhill to the finish.

Down hill time!

The feeling of finally hitting the 50K mark and having an hour left on the clock was fantastic! The runners around me discussed the fact that we could walk the rest of the way if we had to and still finish. I love that moment in a race J I had no intention of just walking, but I admit, I did more than necessary simply because I was going to be happy to finish.

The kids were so thrilled a runner stopped for them :-)

Yay! Shade!

Notice the collection of foam visors. He actually asked for my hat, LOL. I told him I still needed it.

I laughed out loud :-)

Cresting the top of Constantia Nek 

Coming into the final stretch I managed to have enough left in the tank for a good running finish. It was done. My first ultra that was not a “24-hour run what you can”, this was a run to beat the clock or lose. Wandering around the finish area I heard the announce shout, “5 minutes left and there are still 800-1,000 runners left on the course!” I found a place to watch the last few minutes of the race, with anguished runners making their last gasp at the finish line. My heart broke for all the runners still on the course, including a fellow Marathon Maniac that had succumbed to the South African sun, her winter training in Michigan being no match for the warmth we faced.

Beautiful sight! The most welcome view on the course

I couldn't believe I actually caught the clock in an over-the-shoulder shot!

Runners scrambling to get through the finish arch as the crowd counted down the last 10 seconds.

The day after the race we took the cable car up Table Mountain. It was a gorgeous day and the light hiking around the top washed away the soreness from the previous day. I felt so calm and thrilled at the same time. I had a new love for South Africa, its people, its history, and its great strength. I can’t wait to go back!

From the top of Table Mountain with Robben Island in the background

I asked to take her pictures, she said, "Only if you are in it with me," and then hugged me tight :-) 

Manchester Marathon 2014

2014 Great Manchester Marathon

       When I registered for the Manchester Marathon, I was not expecting much. Manchester is not exactly a top tourist destination, but it fit my schedule and I had a friend that wanted me to pace her through her first full. Despite this, driving to the race and hearing the radio DJs wish all the runners luck, gave me nervous butterflies in my stomach. Running marathons hasn't gotten old yet! Despite my excitement, I wanted to run this one at a comfortable pace to practice my splits for Two Oceans 2 weeks later, and log the needed miles while looking for friends from my on-line running groups.

 

I love a bold look! To an American, this is gritty, city, England, LOL

So cool meeting Jay who was taking pictures and cheering
 from the sidelines for his wife and her friends

Mark went on to have a fantastic run in London!
Thumbs up to his buddy on a great photo bomb, LOL

        Queuing up for the race was a bit of a zoo. There was no clear organization for where to stand for your corral and as the start approached, the MC kept calling the runners forward so we would be close for the gun. Somehow, this resulted in me being WAY to far up in the crowd. I took off at a pace I knew I could never sustain, but the crowd of 8,000 runners was so thick I could not really slow down without causing people trouble. Fortunately, by the time my first 1 minute walk came up, I was able to get off to the side, but each time I ran, I was jumping back in with people moving too fast for me. I even ran through my second walk break because I could not hear the timer beep.

Best camera angle ever in a race photo, thanks to Jay!

       Despite the pace, the race was a ton of fun. I found friends, met new ones, and enjoyed the scenery in a surprisingly charming city. It also had a few out and back sections so we got to see the front runners, I love that!

       Despite my way too fast start, I managed to hang onto to some of my speed and ended up finishing at 4:25:14! That is within a minute of my finish in Malta that I had attributed to the last half of the race being downhill. Although I pushed too hard for a race that was only 2 weeks before my big ultra, I think it gave me huge confidence towards finishing Two Oceans. I finished 26.2 in near record time without feeling totally spent so I knew that backing off on my pace would give me what I needed to add an extra 9 miles.

Cute cadets helping with our bags. 

Manchester has an arch?

Buildings along the canal

Watching the elites run by

Into the city

Bummed this was blurry, he was swinging fireballs!

Patient, and a few not so patient, cars sitting at a dead
stop waiting for the runners to clear.

The finish line, YAY!

Slogging through the finishing chute.
 That is my post race "ecstatic" look, compliments of Jay
and his magic camera that makes me look good :-)

       All in all, Manchester is a great marathon and I highly recommend it!  A big city race with a small town feel.

Coastal Trail Series: Sussex

Another Saturday Sunrise

Coastal Trail Series: Sussex

I was pretty excited about this race on the Southern coast in Sussex, across the Seven Sisters. Not only did I want to run a March marathon, but I wanted to see this area, and it fit perfectly in my training plan. If I said to my husband, “Hey, let’s drive all day on Friday, walk around on Saturday, and drive all day back on Sunday to see some pretty cliffs,” he would have looked at me like I was crazy and said, “No way.” Fortunately, if I say, “I want to go run a marathon in Sussex,” his response is, “Have fun, I’ll see you when you get back.” So off I went.

Storm brewing

It was a lot colder and windier than the weather report had proclaimed, but I was prepared for every contingency. At the race start I was bundled up with multiple layers and looking around at the people with me, some of whom were bare legged and hatless, thinking half the group was nuts, but I was not sure yet which half, the over-dressed half or the under dressed half.

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We took off and things were going well. I went right into my power walk for the up hills and laughed at all the people that had taken off at a fast trot and were now lined up waiting for a turn to go through a small gate. (English trail races include a multitude of livestock corralling, narrow gates to pass through and fences to climb over, via an assortment of slats and steps.) Everyone stood around waiting their turn and even the walkers with trekking poles caught the runners. From the take off though, I realized it was going to be a definitely “back of the pack” day. Oh well, I was not here to prove anything to anyone but me. I watched the line of runners stretch out before me, thinking either they were all very ambitious, or I am a horrible trail racer.

Then the storm hit. I had decided to wear my gloves, ear band, and buff and was very glad I did. We had watched it coming across the ocean, bringing winds that knocked us backwards. Ice pellets and rain hammered us as we slogged up the first set of hills. Up is usually good when you can run down the other side, but running down was very dicey. The grass was slick with rain and ice, and very steep and uneven, so we were picking our way down trying not to fall, rather than galloping down like we wanted. At one point, I lifted my foot to take a step up and a wind gust hit so hard I was suspended in mid air, unable to move forward to put my foot down ahead of the other, and desperately trying not to get tipped backward for a tumble back down the hill I just climbed. This seemed like it went on forever. Finally, the rain stopped and the sky began to clear. That is when I realized we had been out there 40 minutes, and had gone 2.5 miles.  Not a good sign!

  

  The next few miles were kind of a blur. Cute towns and villages with cute buildings and pretty flowers. I ran for a couple of miles with a young graduate student from Malaysia. It was his first full marathon and he was soaked and freezing in his sweats. He did not finish. England never ceases to amaze me in its ability to be totally stormy and over cast one minute, and have nearly clear blue skies the next, but that is how it went. Looking back at pictures, it is hard to imagine they were all taken within a few hours.

  

The grass and dirt isn't thick, chalk is just beneath the surface
 and makes the stickiest mud I have every encountered

Back out into farm country I was battling with the mud made of chalk that hangs onto your shoes like super glue and is the consistence of potter’s clay. On the up side, the clouds had moved off and it seemed like the weather would finally be decent, and maybe my camera would dry out enough to start working properly again. I rounded a corner and suddenly remembered something they said during the briefing about, “You will run past the _______so be sure and look up to see it.” I had no idea what they had said until the sun broke through the clouds and the Long Man of Wilmington was shining like it was made of mirrors!

 

The hill figure lifted my spirits and carried me for a while as I slogged through more mud, trying not to lose a shoe or twist an ankle. Surprisingly, I could see runners ahead of and behind me. Usually in a race like this I’m pretty much alone by about 10 miles in, so it was nice, especially since I was worried about missing a turn. The race was extremely well marked, but one can never completely account for “running brain.”

 

Even in the tire ruts, the mud was deep

Finally, in a steady drizzle, but thankfully sheltered from the wind for a few moments, we dipped down to the half way mark. I had been running, hiking, and slogging for 3 whole hours! My dreams of a 5:00 or even 5:30 finish were long gone and I was not even totally sure I would bother finishing at all. I was so tired, cold, and wet that my thoughts kept drifting back to a hot shower and dry clothes. I would think, “Okay, I’ll bag it at 20 and call it a training run,” but then I would remember the 35 mile ultra just 4 short weeks away, and the need to finish all 26 miles would reassert itself. It was the only thing that kept me going when I passed within 100 yards of my car at around 17 miles, what a terrible tease!

  

Notice the little white sign with red arrows, these were our trail markers.
 Perfect for spotting under a lowered cap.

Oddly at this point I started passing people. My power walk was paying off and everyone was done in. The tourists were out and about, which would be a good sign about the weather, except these English folk are tough as nails and go out hiking and sightseeing is crazy weather! Around this time I came upon the steepest hill of all. It looks vertical in my elevation profile, and felt nearly that steep when I was on it. I was just going to walk down, since my time was shot and my legs were buckling, but it was too steep to walk. It was also too steep to run and we ended up just sort of shuffling down in a controlled fall, praying not to LOSE that control and roll down ass over tea-kettles. This one decent was really hard on my knees. My quads tightened into rocks and I felt the familiar ripping sensation that goes with the injury I have been battling. Tight quads also pull your knee caps of track so the next mile or so was spent stopping to stretch in an attempt to get everything back on track.

Poor tree didn't stand a chance

 With just a couple of miles to go, I felt much better and did not even care about the wind, I was nearly done and with plenty of time before the cut off. My finish time was 6:02, which I won’t hold up in comparison to road races, but I certainly got in a lot of hill training and more important, I made a hard effort for 6 hours which brings me closer to the 7 hour expectation for Two Oceans. I truly only want to finish that one. Anything under 7 hours will be pure frosting on my happy cake!

Next up, Manchester Marathon

A few pictures from Eastbourne

 

The low dark hills on the right are France