Fellsman - again!!

There are many phrases and euphemisms to describe it – a glass half full, one door opens another closes, a curates egg – since time immemorial it has been an immutable fact of life that we get our opportunities and challenges in broadly equal measure; what we do with them is down to us and us alone.

First off, let me say I think its great that someone can run Fellsman in around 14 hours and then come back the next year and win the event. I didn’t get the chance to really understand how well prepared Duncan Harris was this time around but I do sense he had his lines right and was well trained and motivated for the performance. I also sympathise with Steve Birkinshaw – he was clearly so much fitter than me and will know that he is unlikely to see a repeat of the stomach problems that bedeviled him around Middle Tongue – nevertheless, its one more thing he has to deal with and rationalise in the run up to his Lakes 24 hour record round.

As for me – if you had told me 2 months ago I would get 2^nd place I would have laughed. I was running 15 miles/week or less and didn’t have an entry in. By the weekend before, that over inflated sense of self ability that propelled me to many a challenge had returned and I was even thinking of the win. But I know how dangerous that bravado can be – it took me to 3^rd place at mile 80 of 100 in one of the world’s elite races only to crash and burn to 28^th spot by the finish line.

What last weekend gave me was some discouragement as I toiled up climbs I know I have run in races gone by – the long drag up Blea Moor, the stony track out of Stonehouse – no way could I float up these last weekend. It gave me some discouragement as I slipped from 2^nd to 4^th to 6^th and realized I was somehow missing the vistas, the birdsong, the ever changing pattern of sun and clouds dappling the hillsides. And it gave me discouragement as I was reacquainted with one of the age old dilemmas of distance running – food is fuel, eating is a struggle and nausea is a persistent companion you carry with you. Then, without warning, it gave me quiet satisfaction as a better line brought me back to 4^th spot and a bit of determined running consolidated that, it gave me encouragement as Simon vocally demonstrated that he was feeling as nauseous as me and I ran a solid section over to Middle tongue back into 3^rd and it gave me amazement as I first passed Steve over to Hells Gap and then held off repeated challenges over the remaining 15 miles. My god – I ran up much of Great Whernside and felt like some of those last 20 miles were covered as quickly as I have ever covered them.

Coming into Redshaw

So, what to make of all this? A comeback or a fluke? Where do we go from here. There has always been a part of me that wanted to set an emphatic record on this race and I was arrogant enough to believe I could go under 10 hours but it never happened. Is it impossible now? This is balanced by the desire to see Fellsman as the Grand Prix of UK distance running – the Western States of the UK – with top UK and overseas runners racing head to head to set that sub 10 hour time. I would be a bystander for such a contest – presumably? …and actually I have always loved the solitude on that race…running alone for hours on familiar terrain, mentally and physically ticking off each section, monitoring the internal systems, taking in the environment; not pressured by anyone else but putting the ultimate pressure on myself – the race of truth.

So, many questions but, at this moment, precious few answers. There are two things I am very clear about though:

• the race takes more out of me as I get older, I felt trashed on Monday :)
• running long has beauty, power and grace - it cleanses the soul - it matters everything and nothing. If you aren't alraedy doing it you should start - life will change.
  

So