We’re now well into January but festive frolics and general life got in the way of me writing up my December antics. Last time I wrote, I was on my way to Argentina to run “El Cruce”, a 100km stage race over three days.

With 2,400 competitors, it must be a logistical nightmare for the organisers, but I had a wonderful time and really enjoyed running through pristine Patagonian landscapes and given that I had the Argentine champion hot on my heels I even progressed from running in my waterproof hiking boots to running in real trail shoes on days two and three…and the not so fractured any more foot seemed to survive!

Photo: El Cruce race

Post race “rest”

Straight after the race I made my way up to Mendoza, the closest town to Aconcagua, which at 6,962m is the highest mountain outside of Asia. It’s a peak which has been on my radar for a long time now, probably ever since my dad was stuck up there in a blizzard back in 2001 and couldn’t get to the summit.

Over the years I’d looked at going up, as well as attempting a speed record to the top, and now seemed as good a time as any. In terms of climbing technicality, the mountain is straightforward, particularly if conditions are good. This has however led to its increasing popularity, with many viewing Aconcagua as the next big guided challenge after “ticking off” Kilimanjaro. I felt confident in my own abilities to be on the mountain without a guide and so chose to go it alone.

I filled my rucksacks with 2 weeks’ worth of food and all my mountain cold weather gear and hitch-hiked the four hours to the park entrance in a huge lorry, and then with a friendly couple who fed me croissants.

By this time it was mid-afternoon and my hopes of persuading a passing mule to carry at least one of my bags were very much dashed. The park rangers thought I was truly bonkers to attempt to carry all my things but duly helped me get the rucksacks onto my back and wished me luck.

Holly the pack mule!

It was 32 km to base camp, a monotonous and exhausting uphill journey. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to keep plodding on through the scorching desert sun with such a heavy bag (approx.35kg); everything hurt, particularly my hips where the bag was bruising them.

Arriving at base camp, framed by a glacier and with views up to Aconcagua, I decided that the next day would be a well-earned rest day, eating instant noodles, rehydrating and reading my book.

With most people being part of an organised group, or at least having a mule to carry in their bags, I was a bit of an anomaly [No need to change the habits of a lifetime Holly. Ha! – Robbie]. However, this rogue status, and being able to speak fluent Spanish, certainly helped in endearing me to people who could keep me company and feed me tea and biscuits.

I was astounded at how much food was being thrown away in base camp; half-eaten bowls of porridge and apples with one bite out of them discarded into the “organic waste” bags. Given I’d painstakingly lugged all mine and not had it helicoptered or muled in and then cooked for me, every oat was sacred and not to be wasted!

The portering continues

There are three camps on the way up to the summit; but I decided just to use one of them, camp 2 at 5,500m. Given the arid landscape, water is hard to come by and the thought of hacking at a glacier with an axe to get some drinkable liquid was not enticing, so I had a day “portering” 17litres and a week’s worth of food up to this second camp.

Here I received my first welcome from the infamous Aconcagua winds; the guys in the mountain rescue hut were quite bemused to see me with bare legs “we’ve never seen anyone up here in shorts before!” At least this meant they were happy to befriend me, so we drank tea, ate biscuits and played Yahtzee until it was time for me to “scree ski” my way back down to base camp.

The next day I carried the rest of my things up to camp two. It was tricky getting my tent up in the gale force winds but eventually I got inside only to hear a couple of porters arrive and start putting tents up for their imminently arriving group. The group of Americans duly appeared, complaining about how hard the climb up to Camp Two had been (without carrying anything!!), they got into their pre-erected tents and were promptly told to rest whilst they were served tea.

Does five-star service have a place on the mountain?

I can by no means class myself as a proper mountaineer and many people probably disagree with me, but my view is that if someone is doing everything for you in the mountains it somewhat takes away from the achievement. Aconcagua has become a battleground for different agencies offering all-inclusive expedition packages.

Of course, throwing money at a mountain takes out the logistical and many of the physical challenges, but it also means that if something goes wrong, many of the people being guided would not know how to get themselves out of / avoid a dangerous situation e.g. navigating off the mountain after the death of a guide on summit day / reassembling cairns around the tent if it is destroyed by wind.

Anyway. Having been in Nepal in November, I was feeling well-acclimatised and keen to go up to the summit before heading back to base camp to attempt the speed record.

The weather unfortunately had other ideas. Having befriended the next set of mountain rescue guys, I was resigned to spend a few days in their walk-in-freezer disguised as a hut, hoping that the wind would abate at some point. But it was not to be. Each day we radioed down to base camp for a forecast, only for the news to be the same, the wind would be 90kph+ and a snow storm was on its way.

Photo: Holly Page

Testing the storm

By the third day of either claustrophobic reading in my tent, discussing the legalisation of abortion in Argentina over tea and biscuits and sampling the dubious dehydrated food packages left behind by previous climbers (dehydrated cheese fondue and nachos were voted as my top 2), I’d had enough and decided to go for a little walk to camp three and back.

Pretty much everyone else who had been there to attempt the summit had gone back down to base camp / Mendoza as there was no sign of a weather window opening any time soon.

I packed everything I could possibly need and set off up the mountain. Arriving at camp three I felt good and decided I might as well carry on a bit further; if I felt cold or conditions became dangerous, I would head back the way I’d come.

The camp was completely deserted so I sheltered from the wind in an empty dome tent whilst I checked the map, ate some of my supplies and layered up. Because I’d been away for so long, I didn’t have my mountaineering boots, but rather the Adidas Terrex Freehiker I’d been wearing for the last few months.

Custom mountaineering boots

Although the mountain rescue guys said it was impossible to go beyond 6,000m in these, I had a masterplan of wearing three pairs of socks, hand warmers in the shoes, neoprene cycling overshoes, and crampons on top of that. I knew I was not conventionally equipped in the footwear department and frostbite was one of my greatest fears, but I had told myself that if I was cold, I would go down. Toes are more important than a summit.

I set off up the mountain, feeling rather toasty with my many layers on. After about an hour, the forecast storm was in full flow, battering me with the wind and blizzarding snow. But I pushed on, still feeling fine temperature and energy-wise. It was decidedly miserable once I got to the final push to the summit; the last 350m involve a pretty vertical ascent and by this time any trace of a path had been covered by the rapidly falling snow, but I could make out a line up towards the summit.

Of course, I could feel the lack of oxygen affecting my breathing, but I didn’t have a headache at all and knew I had plenty left in the tank.

Summit storm

Once I turned the corner to scramble up onto the summit plateau all hell broke loose as I was exposed to the full brunt of the storm. I touched the cross on the top and forced myself to remove my gloves for 10 secs for a summit photo, otherwise I thought nobody would believe I’d been up there! In just those few seconds my fingers were freezing; it was no place to hang out and do a celebratory dance, so I focused on getting back down safely.

I’d made sure to remember the way I’d come up as summits can be disorientating in zero-visibility, and I took extreme care on the way down. I knew that if I were to injure myself there would be no rescue party, so it was important to go slowly and make sure that nothing untoward happened (other than a few inadvertent nose-dives into snow drifts).

My goggles had filled with ice, so I resigned myself to having my eyes open to the elements; thoughts of snow-blindness filled my mind as I bashed the mini-icicles off my eyelashes which were freezing my eyes shut.

Returning to Camp Three, in my semi-blind state I took a poor line back down the mountain and ended up much further down the valley than camp two where my tent was. Fortunately, I had the route on my watch and could flounder my way through the snow to the camp. I’d never seen so much snow fall in such a short space of time. There had been no snow when I had left 5,500m at midday, and now, just seven hours later it was chest deep in places.

On top of the world

I’d just been the highest person in the world for the afternoon*, but I was in no mood for a celebration as a crawled into my tent, filling it with snow, and lay on my mattress, waiting for the morning to come.

The next day the storm had subsided, and the mountains looked beautiful, painted in white. I agonised over whether I still had time to do the speed ascent, and although I could potentially have returned to base camp and done it the next day, I would really have been pushing my luck.

Despite the hellish conditions, everything had gone well with my ascent. Seeing who is the fastest person to the top of Aconcagua isn’t all that important in the greater scheme of the world; mountains will always be there, but health and happiness may not. I’d packed so much into the last few months (and years!) that I told myself I should be content with everything I’ve done.

*As the highest mountain outside of Asia, and December being outside the Himalayan climbing period, and 5pm in Argentina being around 2am in Asia, it was fairly improbable that anyone else would be above 7,000m at that time.

Back to civilisation with a thud

There were times sat in the mountain rescue hut when I wondered whether I would even summit at all, so to have reached the top when it was deemed to be impossible, the only person up there for five days, should be something to celebrate, not bemoan the fact that I ran out of time to go for some pointless record.

Of course, I still had to get myself back to Mendoza; as I sweated my way back through the desert to the park entrance, my bag still seeming to weigh not much less than on the way out (I ate too many of the rangers’ biscuits and not enough of my own!), it was strange to think of the climatic contrasts I’d experienced in the last 36 hours.

Back in the UK just before Christmas, my body finally succumbed to a couple of weeks of deep fatigue. I tried pushing on through the tiredness and lack of energy, but was sleeping for 12+hours a night, trying to run but managing only to shuffle, incapable of summoning the necessary energy to ride my bike even slowly up Yorkshire’s steep hills.

A tried reminder

On Christmas day we organised a family handicap run, and it was only when 60-year-old Mamapage caught me up calling “adios amiga” as she jogged, gazelle-like past me that I realised that something was really awry.

Instead of moaning, I embraced the lack of energy and ability to only jog very very slowly and allowed my body to start to rebuild; the views of the Pennines are better enjoyed at a steady pace anyway.

Here’s to 2020 and building back to some energy, a touch of speed and hopefully no more broken feet!

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5am. I can see the headlights of a waiting car outside but seem to be locked in a guesthouse. I stumble around in the dark trying to find someone to open it. “Namaste, Namaste”, I call as I find a sleeping security guard and try to shake some life into him. Bleary eyed, he comes to the rescue, opening the door and allowing me to start my journey to Manaslu Mountain Trail Race.

A long bus ride to a bridge to meet the rest of the runners. Patchy phone signal. Turns out it’s the wrong place. Flagging down a dusty lorry, we hitch a ride to the right bridge 20km downstream and sit and wait for the bus of cheery folk on their way from Kathmandu.

We’re greeted with friendly faces and delicious oranges from the event organisers as we make our bumpy way to the race start village.
Manaslu Mountain Trail Race is a nine day stage race, though stages seven and eight are “hiking” days and don’t count in the overall results. It’s just over 190km with over 11,000m of climb.

The race is organised by Richard Bull and Lizzy Hawker, pioneers in the promotion of trail running in Nepal, putting on various events throughout the year, for the right reasons; low-key, non-commercialised and with a focus on giving back to local communities.

Five star service in the mountains

The race is supported by a team of cooks and a mule train, which means that not only do you need to carry just your “day bag”, you wake up to a cooked breakfast of eggs, pancakes, porridge, endless tea and coffee… there’s a packed lunch, a hearty hot soup waiting at the finish line each day, afternoon tea at 4.30pm and then a seemingly bottomless amount of food at dinnertime. Needless to say I think I actually put on weight during these nine days rather than losing anything!

Although conditions in Nepalese mountain villages are certainly “basic”, it felt like a total luxury compared to my experiences on the previous week’s Dhaulagiri trek and Annapurna mountain bike ride where I’d been carrying everything myself, including melting snow on the glacier drinking water.

Toeing the startline on the first day I was a little apprehensive as to how my (hopefully no longer fractured) foot would cope with the inevitable stress it would be put under. I hadn’t run a step for a month. I had my poles at the ready and a non-competitive mindset. I had to remember what a privilege it was just to be there, running in such places is such a luxury.

Most people in the mountains are subsistence farming and wasting energy through running would understandably be considered a frivolous endeavour for them.

Photo: Manaslu Mountain Race – Jeevan Lama

Uphill from the start

We began by winding our way up the Budhi Gandaki valley, almost 4,000m of climb and 2,500m descent over the first two days, so it wasn’t entirely uphill! Due to the linear nature of the event, there were no cut-offs, and so people could take as long as they needed on each stage. After a quick river wash (at least at the lower elevations!), it was fun to cheer everyone on as they came into the finish line throughout the afternoon every day.

There was a wonderful community feeling amongst all the participants; being with a small group means there’s real opportunity to properly get to know each other; as one of the guys said “it’s like ten years of friendship in nine days”.

By day three it felt like we were really in the mountains, views of Manaslu appeared and the culture became more Tibetan. Running up to 4,700m in my shorts and T-shirt in horrible snowy conditions was a little on the chilly side but otherwise we were really lucky with the weather.

After dinner each evening, we had a briefing by race organiser Richard, his dry sense of humour could land him a stand-up comedy gig if he wanted it, always managing to make jokes even when everyone else was feeling pretty tired! I’d picked up a stinking cold by the fifth day; far from ideal as we headed into the higher altitudes, but it didn’t dampen my spirits too much.

Confidence growing

I even managed to gain some confidence in my foot and clocked the fastest time on four of the seven stages. It was quite a risk to even start the event as I could have done a lot of damage, but hopefully I’ve been sufficiently conservative to let it continue healing.

Nepal has always been a top destination for trekkers but the trail running scene is really taking off with events springing up across the country. For me the events that Lizzy and Richard organise (Manaslu in November and Mustang in May) really are something special; I’m coming away with the most wonderful memories and a strong desire to return to this beautiful country very soon!

Photo: Manaslu Mountain Race – Jeevan Lama

The “kid’s race” in Oman

I treated my foot to a whole week of doing bugger all exercise and stopped off in Oman, where I’d been invited to participate in the UTMB race there. Although my initial invite was for the 130 or 170km races, I said I would come for the 50km…”the kids race” as I liked to call it. Well, the kids race which is 53km with 3,400m+… I had hoped to be able to run it properly, but I knew that my foot was not fully healed yet and that’s a lot of descent in a pair of trail shoes…

So I donned my trusty waterproof hiking boots and a non-competitive spirit and crossed my fingers and toes that I would be okay.

I wasn’t exactly raring to go on the startline, I would quite happily have stayed in bed; my legs were so stiff when I set off, but I gradually got into the swing of things as I jogged merrily up the main climb.

Slow and steady start

Once the sun came out it became crazy hot, I felt a little bit like a poor lobster being thrown into a bubbling cauldron to be boiled alive, and the Gore-Tex shoes were wholly unnecessary in the desert!

But I had a nice time, working my way through the field as the overexuberant men started to fade with the demands of the course and despite stopping for lots of pictures and clomping around like a woolly mammoth in my boots, I ended up finishing 8th overall. I took the downhills very steady and my foot seemed to survive – hooray!

My watch informs me that I now need 120 hours of recovery, shame I only have about 100 until my next jaunt – a three day stage race in Patagonia. Then logistics, weather and foot pending, perhaps a little escapade up Aconcagua…

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October brought with it the Sky Pirineu race, my final event of the Skyrunner World Series before the Grand Final in Italy a few weeks later.  It was my last opportunity to score points in the series and I was finally feeling quite fit. I’d been to the area a few years previously when I’d cycled over to the Pyrenees on a whim from the Alps, but this time I took the lazy option of using transport with more than two wheels. 

The Catalans always provide a splendid welcome and I very much enjoyed eating crema catalana until my heart’s content. My performance in the race itself was a little disappointing; I was in second place throughout the climb but pulled away from third towards the top.

For some reason I presumed I would catch the leader at some point on the downhill, but I never saw her, so contented myself with a second place. It was only when I crossed the finish line and found out that she was just 90 seconds ahead that I realised I should have been pushing harder from the start and never let her get away.

I normally finish races feeling like I’ve really given everything I have, but on this occasion I think I could perhaps have made up that deficit at some point on the four hour course. 

Running above the clouds at Sky Pirineu Photo: @lauraerrephotos

Always one more fell race…

Back in the UK, I packed my belongings and made plans for the upcoming months; Italy, Nepal, Oman, Patagonia… not an easy jaunt to pack for with kit for high altitude glaciated peaks and desert all to fit into one rucksack.

Despite a torrential downpour and a stinking cold, in the knowledge that I wouldn’t be doing any more fell races in 2019, I cycled over the hills to Haworth for a local fell race. Given I had the final of the skyrunning series the next week I ran very conservatively, taking no risks and really enjoying the race. It was however rather tricky to cycle back with the ridiculous prize haul – you can’t beat a good fell race for keeping the wine, beer and chocolate stash topped up. 

That same dreaded feeling…

The next morning I set off for a run, but a couple of minutes in had to stop and loosen my shoe lace as it felt like there was a lot of pressure across the top of my foot. Shoe loosened, there was no change. I walked back home with a sinking feeling in my stomach. The foot felt exactly the same as when I had fractured it back in March. I knew something was wrong, and leaving for my big trip in 3 days meant I didn’t have much time to find out what. 

After a lot of shenanigans with the local doctor’s surgery, I managed to get a referral letter to go and get a scan done privately; I needed to know for sure if it was fractured or whether I was just imagining things. The day before leaving for Italy I got the scan done and after more shenanigans about getting the results, I had my suspicions confirmed – the foot wasn’t fully fractured, but “prolonged weight bearing activity” would cause the microfracture to grow.

Quite a shame that all my plans for the foreseeable future involved prolonged weight bearing activity. 

It never crossed my mind to cancel my plans. What was I going to do stuck in the UK, go aquajogging and hop around in a moonboot? That didn’t really appeal so I decided to go ahead with my itinerary and just take each part as it came. 

One perk of being on crutches at an airport is getting priority treatment; my crutching skills became top notch and although it was difficult, I accepted having to watch the Skyrunning Final from the sidelines rather than competing. I might not have won the race but I did my utmost to win on the dancefloor at the afterparty with my exceptional hopping skills. 

Onwards to Nepal

The next day I squeezed my sorry self and bags into a tiny Fiat 500 with some British journalists and headed back to Milan for my onward journey to Nepal for the Final of the Golden Trail Series.

Although I couldn’t join in any of the running, I had a great week with my trail running friends from around the world. Just like the previous weekend in Italy, it was hard to see everyone out running in the mountains, but I tried to stay positive, enjoy some downtime and the day of the race I hired a mountain bike and went on a circuitous route round to the finish line so that at least I felt I’d had my own “day out”. 

Once the main group left Nepal, my plan had been to hike the Dhaulagiri circuit trek, one of Nepal’s “wild” treks where you have to carry all your food and equipment for at least a week as there are no tea houses to stay in (unlike most of the other well-known treks). I knew that it was too risky to attempt such a committing route, so, having enjoyed my mountain biking experience, it was decided that a good “non-weight bearing” alternative could be to mountain bike the Annapurna circuit instead. 

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been properly mountain biking (as opposed to inadvertently off roading with my road bike). But my friend Tom and I rented some bikes of questionable quality, got some trekking permits, negotiated the bikes onto a few buses, and got our way to the start of the Annapurna circuit. 

Nappies for Tom

Because it had taken all day to sort everything, we started out in the dark. I quickly learnt that the mountain bike would indeed go over rocks and I didn’t need to keep putting my feet down in fear on the downhills.

We’d managed to acquire one pair of XL Chinese cycling shorts, but Tom soon realised that a pair of running shorts would not be sufficient protection for his derriere, so after declining the man in the shop’s suggestion of cutting up his own carpet and sewing it into Tom’s shorts, he purchased six nappies and enjoyed not entirely comfortable days of riding along with occasional “nappy slippage” as they fell out into the dust. 

The route was tough but beautiful, we climbed from the hot tropical rainforest up into the high snowy Himalayan peaks, temperatures plummeting and oxygen becoming increasingly scarce as we worked our way up to the Thorong-La pass at 5,400m. This certainly beats aquajogging as a “non-weight bearing activity”.

Each night we stayed in tea houses, small basic rooms and simple food, but incredibly hospitable people who were surprised to see us on bikes, and particularly surprised to see Tom’s nappies drying by the fire in the evening. 

We cracked out a very long (and tough!) last day to avoid having to sit on a bumpy bus for hours on end, returning to Pokhara as the sun was setting. My foot seemed to have come out of the biking relatively unscathed, so we decided to risk the Dhaulagiri trek.

Dhaulagiri escapades

It was a quick turnaround; shower, beer, food and packing our things for the trek. 36 hours after setting off on Nepal’s infamously steady public transport and death defyingly unsafe road network, we arrived at the start of the trek. 

We thought our bags were heavy but it was humbling to see the ridiculous loads being carried by local people, expertly negotiating the icy paths in just a pair of flip flops. We weren’t particularly lucky with the weather and got caught in a storm on the second day, a tent pole snapped on the third night setting up camp on a glacier, I got a fairly severe bout of diarrohea and ended up having to extricate myself from to the tent multiple times in the night, barefoot on the freezing glacier digging little snowholes with my bare hands.

Our wet shoes froze completely so we couldn’t put our swollen feet inside them until we had defrosted them down our jackets, all water sources had frozen so we could only melt snow down our tops / on the gas stove or on one occasion get some water out of a glacial pool after hacking at it with an ice axe. 

Into the storm

Despite avalanches crashing around us, at Dhaulagiri Base Camp we were lulled into a false sense of security, spending an afternoon relaxing under pristine blue skies. The next morning we awoke to a howling gale. We spoke to the only Sherpa at the base camp, in charge of a group of Dutch hikers who were having their things carried by porters and mules. He said that the conditions were too dangerous to continue that day and that if the storm didn’t clear the next day he would send for a helicopter evacuation. 

We both had insurance for a helicopter rescue but I didn’t feel that the conditions were bad enough to warrant it. Nothing a bit of Yorkshire grit couldn’t handle. So I made a difficult decision to pack up our camp and venture on into the storm. Tom had been feeling weak with the cold and the altitude but I told him that as long as we kept moving and eating we would be able to brave whatever the weather gods threw at us.

And throw at us they did. We endured snow, gale-force winds, freezing temperatures as we spent 80% of the day exposed above 5,000m. But eventually we pulled through the other side and after 10+ hours we finally started to lose some elevation and the weather calmed down. We had planned to camp somewhere en route but in the end cracked out a 13 hour day and got all the way down to the valley floor – a return to “civilisation” involving hitch hiking with a party bus full of youths who’d come from Kathmandu. 

What an experience it was. Importantly, the foot seems to have come out of it relatively unscathed so I can hopefully join the Manaslu Mountain Trail Race in the coming days… even if I will only be hiking it!

More tales from Nepal, or any of her adventures, can be found on Holly’s Instagram page here.

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I do seem to recall ending my last article saying that I was about to run a race called Sierre Zinal in Switzerland, for which I had done zero preparation, other than racing for 8 hours the previous weekend (not advisable!).

It’s a very prestigious race in the mountain running community and always attracts a very strong field of elite athletes from around the world. I guess the race could be described as a double Vertical Kilometre followed by a fast half marathon… 

My legs were what can only be described as exhausted going into the race but I had nothing to lose, and it’s amazing what the power of mental strength can do to overcome physical inability! I somehow seemed to get stronger and stronger as the race progressed and in the end finished five minutes faster than I had last year, eighth in the most competitive field the race has ever seen after my cramping calves prevented me from catching seventh place by four seconds!

Three races in four days

After the race I returned to the more affordable land of Italy and enjoyed a wonderful week competing in every race going – three in four days. I seemed to become a bit of a local celebrity which was fun and it certainly gave a boost to my wine and cheese supplies.

My parents had come out in their campervan as well and I even managed to persuade them to partake in one of the races!

Next on the schedule was the Matterhorn Extreme Skyrace in Zermatt. As a considerable chunk of the race was going to be spent above 3,000m I decided to have a few nights up on the Simplon Pass at 2,000m – I rigged up my hammock and enjoyed a few relaxing days, letting my legs recover before the big race to come.

SimplonPass Redemption

I even discovered that there were showers in the public toilets at the famous Simplon Pass Hospice -huge bonus when you’re living in a van! Back from a freezing cold run in the rain, I went into the hospice to get warm and clean, but as I was putting my shoes on to leave a cleaning lady came into the toilets. 

“Are you staying here?”,

“Erm, no”, 

“Well you are not allowed to shower, are you also stealing food?” 

“No, of course not, I was just cold and dirty and wanted a hot shower” 

“This is not a public place, YOU CANNOT SHOWER!” 

“Ok I’m really sorry I didn’t realise, I thought it was a place to welcome weary travellers, I won’t shower here again”… 

I went to leave the bathroom, but not before the lady ran to the door, slammed it in my face, and proceeded to lock me in. It was quite a ridiculous situation to be in. I’d effectively been taken prisoner in the toilets by the cleaning lady. I went over to the window to see if I could climb out of it but it was far too big a drop down to ground level. So I just started tapping on the door. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. 

Eventually an Italian male voice came 

“Who is it?”, 

“A person…” I responded (what else was I supposed to say, introduce myself!?) “The cleaning lady locked me in here!” 

He said no more so I presumed he had disappeared. I continued my tap tap tapping. After what seemed like a very long time, there was a key in the lock and the door opened. There was the cleaning lady looking extremely smug with herself. 

“Why did you lock me in, are you a child?” I asked her, quite calmly. 

“At least I didn’t kick you!” she retorted, laughing menacingly. 

Although I would have loved to, I didn’t retaliate at all and just walked off, still somewhat incredulous as to what had just happened. I guess some people take power trips to the extreme. Whatever floats your boat. Anyway, a word of warning…. Never take a shower on the Simplon Pass! 

Back to normality

Anyway, I ultimately made it to Zermatt; it is a bit of a crazy place which seems to be mostly filled with people who like to look at mountains rather than being up them. The race itself really was quite extreme – vertical scree downhills, a glacier to cross, and sadly I ended up coming down in a helicopter after hitting my head on a rock as I scrambled up the first climb.

Having never dropped out of a race before, despite the blood coming from my head, I was intrigued to see what the rest of the course was like so I decided to continue and thought I felt ok.

Unfortunately, those feelings of being “ok” turned to being “not ok” and I started to feel really dizzy and sick. It was a huge effort to get to the first aid station at 3,200m, even just walking very slowly.

I said to the guys at the aid station that I’d carry on, even though my dazed body was telling me to stop. With the most technical part of the race still to come, and my condition deteriorating significantly, I ended up being bundled into a helicopter to get down to the valley as quickly as possible.

Most people enjoy their expensive helicopter rides with views of the Matterhorn – I didn’t even look out of the window as I had my head in a sick bag – how silly. 

Photo: Hillary Gerardi

Moving on with a helmet

Anyway, I had a couple of days feeling the concussive after effects of the rock encounter, but on the third day I decided I was well enough to join a friend climbing the Aiguille du Tour – an eight hour day including a long glacier traverse and scramble was obviously a great way to test my physical state – but at least I was wearing a helmet and we had a wonderful day out!

I was heading to Chamonix to stay with the Adidas Terrex Team for the week of the UTMB, “the world summit of trail running”.

This would be the fourth year I would be there that week supporting but not actually racing. Given that my legs felt reasonably fresh after missing most of the descent in the Zermatt race, and my mountaineering trip the previous day showed I seemed to be over the concussion, I mulled over whether to toe the startline of the CCC race, 101 km with 6,100m climb.

I had entered back in December as I had enough points to qualify for a free elite entry so thought I may as well have it as an option though had never really contemplated doing it. 

A step into the unknown

Most people said it was a ridiculous idea; I’d done no training for it, it would ruin the rest of my season, I would end up broken…. But a couple of people (including myself!) thought I should give it a go. So after a long and painful decision making process, I decided to do it. Yes I could prepare properly and do it well the next year, but who knows what would happen the next year – I might not have any legs! 

The kit list for the race is notoriously contrived and I spent the three days before the race running around Chamonix like a headless chicken collecting bits of kit from people, buying bandages, spare batteries for the two headtorches we had to carry, do two ITRA Quartz blood tests, signing autographs on large posters of my face (why!?), and then looking at where on earth the route went. 

Race day

The race was Friday and by Wednesday night I seemed to have some kind of stomach upset. I didn’t think anything of it and thought it would pass before the race. Sadly it didn’t and I spent the 30mins before the race holed up in a toilet [There’s a bit of a theme for this blog – Ed.] I’d commandeered in a restaurant in Courmayeur.

No need to go into a long race description, other than it consisted of 80km of rather intense gastrointestinal distress, so much so that I could hardly run at all from eight kilometres in; I had a few moments of feeling better, but mostly it was a pretty grim 11 hours of trudging / baring my arse to passing runners as I squatted by the trails. I kept telling myself the stomach situation would improve but it didn’t. 

Feeling good when it got dark

I finally started to feel good once it got dark, and having run so much of the race with no competitive ambitions, as soon as I put my headtorch on I felt good; I could finally run normally and managed to overtake lots of people on the last 20km section; I felt like I’d only just started running, it was such a wonderful feeling.

I had so much energy at the end that I even did a crazy dance on the finish line. I wouldn’t call my experience a race, as I never felt that I was racing anyone, it was very much myself against the course (and my intestines) and having told myself pre-race that I would only drop out because of a “mechanical” e.g. knee pain etc, stomach problems fit into that category so I was pretty determined to finish. 

Photo: Ian Corless

Since that not so wonderful experience I’ve been having a fairly terrible few days and I’ve finally resigned myself to seeing a doctor today as it’s getting a bit ridiculous. But I’ve now had my first taste of running 100km; it didn’t seem too bad, my legs held up ok and I’d definitely do another one, ideally with more optimal stomach conditions.

What a peculiar hobby this is

It did however occur to me as I was shovelling pasta and sweet potato into my mouth with my hands at one of the aid stations what a ridiculous sport this is. 

When we look at it in the greater context of the world – here we are, so privileged that we choose to force ourselves to run ridiculously long distances for “pleasure” – we pay to do this!?; depriving ourselves of sleep, shovelling as much sugar into our mouths as our bodies can handle and expelling bodily fluids left right and centre when we can’t… it’s all a bit silly really!

I’m not saying that we should stop doing it, but I think it’s important to remember that it’s all a choice, a game we’ve chosen to play, and when we feel “terrible”, we are pretty damn lucky to be in a situation where our greatest suffering is entirely self-inflicted.

Holly Page features in the ‘Fast 10: class of 2019’ and over the course of the year will share her running journey. You can follow Holly on Twitter and Instagram, while further information about the ‘class of 2019’ can be found here.

Are you a fan of Fast Running? Then please support us and become a patron. For as little as the price of a monthly magazine you can support Fast Running – and it only takes a minute. Thank you.

The post How many races can you really do in one month? appeared first on Fast Running.

July seems to have gone by in a whirlwind and it’s already August now as I realise that I have neglected my article writing duties for July. I’m sat in my (now repaired…. at disastrous expense!) van on top of the Simplon Pass on the Swiss/Italian border.

This time yesterday I’d had to be woken up by the air hostess on a flight back from Norway after I hadn’t even noticed that the plane had landed. Why the exhaustion? 

I’d just been in Norway for the infamous “Tromso Skyrace”, 57km with 4,800m of climb which I’d known would be the ultimate test for my body and its return to form. More on that later. I may as well start my July update chronologically otherwise I will not only confuse you the reader but also myself. 

Back to the start of the July

I’d been asked by my sponsor Adidas Terrex to attend Love Trails Festival on the Gower Peninsula, a fun weekend of trail running workshops, talks and of course showcasing some excellent dance moves. I tied it in with a quick trip back to visit the parents in Yorkshire, obviously also squeezing in fell races on each evening I was back. There really is something glorious about perfect summer evenings in the Pennines; cycling to a race, blasting around a course and enjoying the company of fellow fell runners afterwards. 

After Love Trails I flew out to the Pyrenees to race the Buff Epic Skyrace which counted for double points in the Skyrunner Series. I’d hitch hiked to the same race last year but this year I hired a car which gave me much more autonomy to explore the surrounding peaks before and after the race.

A couple of days before the race I headed up Pico Aneto, the highest point in the Pyrenees. A long hike including having to cross the glacier maybe wasn’t the best race preparation but life’s too short to sit and taper! This was my third time coming to this race, but there is so much to do in the area that it would take me a long time to get bored of it – pristine rivers, beautiful meadows, big peaks… 

Photo: Albert Jorquera/ skyrunning

Life’s too short to sit and taper

The race itself was a tough one – forecasted storms meant that the course was changed but it kept the same profile; 42km with 2,800m of climb. It was a really competitive field and I had no expectations going into the race but surprised myself (and many others) by somehow managing to finish third, after quite a battle with Ragna Debats. 

The next weekend I raced at the Dolomyths Skyrace in the town of Canazei. I am always inspired by the towering peaks of this region. Having travelled all over the world somewhere like the Dolomites really makes you realise how lucky we are in Europe to have such geographic and cultural diversity on our doorstep.

That race didn’t go particularly well and I finished feeling disappointed with myself. I always used to think that downhill running was my greatest strength – I think that comes from having been pretty rubbish as a junior fell runner, having to rely on my downhill skills to make up for all the time I would lose on the climbs. But since the foot breaking fiasco I’ve been really cautious running downhill and I think I lost my mojo a bit – I was three minutes slower on the downhill than last year so that’s definitely something I need to work on.

Beer, pizza and gelato to the rescue

I felt much better after some beers, pizza and gelato though and enjoyed a lovely “recovery” hike up Marmolada, the highest point in the Dolomites the next morning, followed by an overambitious bike ride where I bonked so hard that I was searching for discarded food wrappers in the gutter as I made my way up a final climb. 

Lesson learned, I took plenty of gels with me for my next day’s ride over the famous Stelvio Pass before meeting up with friends for a few days of training and van camping in Living. My aim of totally destroying my legs that week was very much achieved, so much so that I wondered whether I would even be able to make it round the short course of the Giir di Mont race that weekend. Of course they managed the seemingly short burst around these Italian hillsides and it was fun to have three Brits on the podium! 

Some quiet before the storm

Coming up the next weekend was the aforementioned Tromso Skyrace where I knew my legs would need to be feeling good if I was going to make it round the course in one piece. So I packed my tent, a load of food and some good books into a rucksack and hiked off into the Orobie Mountains for a few days of solitude.

It was blissful camping by a pristine lake; no phone signal, just reading, napping, overdosing on wild berries… blissful until I woke up one morning to an almighty thunder storm, huge hailstones pelting my tent and the beautiful meadow I’d camped in had become a torrent of raging water.

I knew that it was safer in the storm to stay in my tent, but I feared that with the rising water levels I risked being washed away. I had no choice but to break camp, though I was admittedly quite scared as I packed up my tent, the storm throwing everything it could at me. As I scrambled over boulder fields, my tent poles strapped to my rucksack, I was worried I would be struck by lightning. I’ve been in similar situations before and it always surprises me how calm you stay, just going into survival mode, only focused on trying to get to a safe place as quickly as possible. 

RELATED: Holly is back racing in the mountains

Safe to run another mountain 

Anyway, I obviously came out of it unscathed just a little mentally drained. Next stop Norway. After a night contending with hooded Italian youths on mopeds somewhere near Milan, I parked my van in a forest near the airport then walked past the prostitutes and along the motorway to avoid having to put it into an airport car park… I did wonder whether it would still be there when I got back. 

Tromso is well north of the arctic circle so daylight is omnipresent. The Tromso skyrace however has become well known for its terrible weather. This year was an exception. A really strong field of women lined up for the race and I had decided to run my own race, try to enjoy it and just see what happened.

I took the first few hours easy, admiring the spectacular views and making sure I kept drinking and eating. I surprised myself by running well down the steep snow and vertical descents early on, getting into second place after about two hours of running. 

More than just a running race, an adventure

I love races which combine running with some scrambling and although I was pushing hard, relished the climb along the imposing Hamperokken ridge. The organisers had put a rope up to the summit as it’s a class 4 climb and it was especially useful for lowering ourselves back down the rock face.

I won’t go into great details about the race as that’s not particularly interesting for anyone, but I was very happy to finish second, breaking the previous course record but not quite fast enough to catch the eventual winner, Johanna Astrom from Sweden. I felt strong throughout the second half which was a great confidence boost and shows that my body can still cope with eight hours of hard effort. 

Back to the Alps

And now back to my van on the Simplon pass. This year I’m taking everything race by race, not wanting to plan too far ahead. The problem with this strategy is that it means I have to draw on my terrible decision-making skills pretty much on a weekly basis.

If I had a coach I would have been told to have a rest for the next week, let my body recover, but as I don’t have to report to anyone, I have made the rather illogical decision to go to the Sierre Zinal race in Switzerland, a super fast course with next to zero technicality which doesn’t play to any of my strengths… but it’s in a beautiful location and there will be lots of fun and friendly people there.

I go to races to try as hard as I can, I’m not afraid to be beaten by people who I would ordinarily be in front of if I didn’t have tired legs; as long as I know I’ve given it my best shot, I will always come out of it happy. So here’s to a happy August. Enjoy the summer everyone!

Holly Page features in the ‘Fast 10: class of 2019’ and over the course of the year will share her running journey. You can follow Holly on Twitter and Instagram, while further information about the ‘class of 2019’ can be found here.

Are you a fan of Fast Running? Then please support us. For as little as the price of a monthly magazine you can support Fast Running – and it only takes a minute. Thank you.

The post Life’s too short to sit and taper appeared first on Fast Running.

Across the seas

Whilst the Kenyans swept the titles in the Beach to Beacon 10k, the strong British performances meant we didn’t fade into the background. On what can only be described as a beautiful day, 6,413 runners took to the roads in Cape Elizabeth.

The race was started by Joan Benoit Samuelson, winner of the first Olympic women’s marathon in 1984, to realize her vision of creating a major international road race in her home state and her legacy is a fantastic 10km race that draws global talent.

Purdue and Piasecki amongst a lead pack containing fellow Brits Tish Jones and Lily Partridge. Photo: Kevin Morris

There was a hint of a breeze, but the sun shone, as did Charlotte Purdue, Callum Hawkins, and Jess Piasecki. Purdue, a recent 2:25 marathon runner, proved she has some impressive speed in her too. The British international claimed bronze in an incredibly high-quality field in a time of 32:16. Not far behind her in sixth place was the Stockport athlete, Jess Piasecki, in 32:51.

Fellow Brits Tish Jones and Lily Partridge were also in the lead group battling it out with the world class field. Jones hung on for a superb 33:09 for eighth, whilst Partridge slowed to post a 34:47.

Scotland’s Hawkins continued to add the success across seas with a fifth place finish that saw him just dip under the 29-minute mark in 28:55. Older brother Derek ran 30:50 for 18th place. 

Photo: Kevin Morris

On home turf

Back in the UK there were some shining stand-out performances in London over 10k. Lauren Deadman of Havering Athletics was the first female finisher at the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park 10k.This was more than just a ‘jog round the park’ as Deadman crossed the line in 35:55 to claim gold for the women. Andrew McCaskill gave a similarly impressive performance, giving his all to bag himself a strong lead. McCaskill finished in a time of 32:53, over 3 minutes ahead of the second male. 

Just a stone’s throw away was the RunThrough Victoria Park 10k. GB International Tracy Barlow, was not only first woman across the line, but also the first overall winner. Barlow ran a rapid time of 34:26, claiming the win by over 3 minutes! 

Over 25 laps…

Once again Paul Navesey proves his excellent 2019 form in the final few months leading up to Frankfurt with a 33 second PB on the track. Athletes took on the challenge of 25 laps of the track in the Brighton birthday Boy’s 10,000. The Crawley AC athlete claimed gold by over two minutes in a speedy time of 30:24 to continue his recent run of PB’s. We caught up with Paul last week and heard all about his journey to Frankfurt.

The clear silver medalist was Craig Halsey of Brighton & Hove AC in his track 10,000m debut. Halsey crossed the line in 32:34 whilst the last place on the podium was claimed by Chichester Runners & AC’s Chris Bird. 

Going long 

In the rocky Scandinavian mountains, British international Jon Albon secured another convincing victory at the highly technical Tromso Skyrace in Northern Norway. 

It was great to see Adidas Terrex’s Holly Page back racing over a longer course and the fell runner finished in an excellent second place. We’re looking forward to hearing about this in her next Fast10 blog!

At the Centurion Running North Downs Way 100 there was a new course record of 15:18:41, taking over 20 minutes off the long-standing record of Ed Catmur. 

Photo: James P. Elson – Centurion Running

In the women’s race Karen Hacker finished in 20:40:38, almost an hour ahead of second place after a strong finish.

Down the distances

The Soar Summer Mile in the prestigious Olympic Stadium was another night to remember with an abundance of PB’s. 

The final Soar mile race of the night was won in a cracking time of 4:01.97 by Tonbridge AC’s Dom Brown. Brown showed his strong form in his first ever 5,000 last weekend, running 14:06, and continued to prove this strength on Friday night. Thames Harrier Josh Carr ended the night on a high with a PB of 4:04.08. Just over a second behind him, claiming bronze in 4:05.54 was Kieran Clements. 

The fastest woman of the night, claiming an easy win, was Revee Walcott-Nolan. The Luton athlete claimed a 7 second PB of 4:37.27 and was the first across the line in her race. 

Clare Elms deserves a mention for setting a new world record for the W55 mile in her 53rd race of the year!! The Kent AC athlete ran a very impressive 5:10 to add to her repertoire which includes 18 other world or British records set in 2019 alone! Elms’ records span everything from 800m to 5k on the road. 

A weekend where 10k’s were plentiful

Adding to the success on the road were some rapid male times in the EDF Energy Lydd 10k. Ross Skelton of Hastings AC stormed across the line in an incredible 30:04, getting himself ever closer to that sub 30 goal. Skelton earned a convincing win as Marshal Smith in second place was 2 minutes 54 seconds behind him in a very respectable 32:58. Achieving third place in 33:29 was Aaron Wilson with a three second PB. 

The Barry Island 10k saw some names to watch take on the road. Josh Griffiths won the scenic 10k, adding to his collection of 10k wins this year. Griffiths came home in an impressive 30:22 with Aaron Richmond behind in 31:49. Fast Running’s Fast 10 Class of 2019 athlete, Natasha Cockram, took the title in the women’s race in 34:42, only 8 seconds off her personal best. See a full report here.

The 14th Rye Summer Classic series 10k had another stand out performance to add to the list. The U23 Tunbridge Wells Harrier, Billy Hobbs, ran 31:55 taking a substantial 30 second chunk off his previous 10k PB set at the Leeds Abbey Dash back in 2017. Billy also beat the 30 year-long course record held by Tony Baldock by a whole second. 

RELATED: Dash to a 10k best in Leeds this Autumn

What has been described as one of the UK’s most beautiful city runs, the Asda Foundation York 10k, took place on the streets of this northern city. The runners clearly weren’t distracted by the city’s beauty as plenty of fast times were ran.

Leeds City AC took gold in both the women’s and the men’s race with Graham Rush running 31:20 and Lorna Young a cracking 36:17. Just over half a minute behind Rush was Cameron Strachan in third with 31:51 and Kristian Watson of Heanor Running Club was next across the line in 32:55. Completing the women’s top three was Sarah Hunter of Ackworth Road Runners in 38:56 followed by Georgina Weston in 39:23. 

Once again, the Self-transcendence 10k, part of the London Sri Chimnoy race series in Battersea Park, saw the gathering of many fast club runners. The men’s race was dominated by Serpentine AC claiming both first and third place. Nicolas Besson won by a 42 second margin in 32:08 with Victoria Park and Tower Hamlet’s William Woodcock taking second in 32:50, a new PB! Adding to the Serpentine’s success and the number of PB’s on the night, Benjamin Tolputt claimed third place in 33:04.

The women’s podium was PB’s galore with all three top women claiming a new lifetime best. Mary James of South London welcomed a nine second 10k best to get her first-place prize, whilst Catrin Tyler in second place took an impressive 72 second off her personal best. Completing the trio of PB’s was Susan McDonald in 37:54.

To conclude a busy weekend of 10k races was the Ray Harrison Memorial 10k. Yohannes Eyob was the first male athlete to cross the line in 32:53, whilst Tracy Milmore of Birtley AC took gold in the women’s race in 37:20. 

parkrun

Jonny Hay and Hayley Carruthers are your fastest athletes at UK parkruns this weekend (August 3rd). Full top ten rankings here.

If you would like to run faster at parkrun, top tips to help runners of all abilities can be found here.

RELATED: 7 ways to run faster at parkrun

Are you a fan of Fast Running? Then please support us and become a patron. For as little as the price of a monthly magazine you can support Fast Running – and it only takes a minute. Thank you.

The post Purdue flies onto the podium at US Beach to Beacon 10k – Weekend round-up appeared first on Fast Running.

In terms of running, June has felt like a month of two halves. Resuming running after a long layoff I felt slow, sluggish, I couldn’t motivate my body to push itself and just felt like every run was a very slow jog.

I would occasionally try and do an interval session, but nothing would respond and I wondered whether I would have that flying feeling of fitness again. My foot kept playing up and I’d run one day only to have it sore again the next day and needing to take another day off. 

I was living out of my campervan in Davos, Switzerland, visiting an Adidas teammate who did a fine job of feeding me cake and keeping me company on a few bike rides. Next stop was a drive over to France for a friend’s last-minute wedding in Chambery, where I seemed to spend most of the week preparing ivy surrounds for picture frames, preparing food for all the guests and making her wedding cake rather than any focus on running. 

Getting the season underway

Having missed the first races of the Skyrunning Series due to the broken foot I decided I would run Livigno Super Skyrace just as a test, and also because I wanted to go there anyway to catch up with all my friends! I had no idea how my foot would cope and knew I had to be pretty conservative so as not to fracture it again / have everyone telling me “told you so….” for doing too much too soon. 

Whilst everyone else was getting nervous, I was quite chilled, no pressure, just needed to jog my way round as a confidence boost. So I set off really slowly compared to a normal race but as soon as we hit the climb I started overtaking and was at the front of the women’s field by the time we reached the first summit.

Photo: Livigno Sky Race

Normally I count descending as my strong point, but June has been a month of “no risk, foot preservation mode” so I found myself trailing down in ninth at the bottom of the hill. My foot didn’t hurt but oh man, my legs!!

They were certainly not used to running at all, never mind down steep Alpine mountainsides! I considered dropping out after 12km but I’m glad I didn’t. I loved the rest of the race and couldn’t stop smiling all the way round.

Take joy from the sport you love

No matter my position, I was just so happy to be back doing the sport that I loved, scrambling across ridges, working hard up crazy climbs. One of the descents was 1,000m- in a valley filled with avalanche snow so I could pretty much “glissade” my way down which was probably good for the foot in any case!

I worked my way up to fifth place and managed to fend off a three time world obstacle course racing champion on the last few km of downhill so I finished quite incredulous at what I’d managed to do in my “unfit” state. 

Everyone was astounded and the race left me very happy and full of confidence that I can build back to fitness, but also quite frustrated. If I could do quite well having had months off, think what I could have done without that enforced break. I was still 20minutes behind the winner, one of my big rivals from last year, which goes to show just how much I’ve lost over these last months. But despite turning my quads into blocks of concrete for the entirety of the next week, I finally felt positive about running again. 

Back in the mountains

Being surrounded by beautiful mountains in St Moritz and the Engadin valley certainly helped that, and excessive snow fall meant that I couldn’t get too carried away in my mountain wanderings. I used to take a lot of risks in the mountains, setting myself challenges to go up peaks I’d see from the valley floor, but now I’m older and wiser and when things start to get too dangerous.

Sometimes you have to say to yourself “that’s enough, time to turn around”. June has also been a month of accepting that risk of avalanches and rock fall is still high and it’s really not worth taking those risks when they can be avoided. 

Next up was the Adidas Infinite Trails in Austria so I gradually made my way over to the stunning Gastein valley, stopping en route for a few days with some other friends with a van for some cycling, hiking, running, wine-drinking and laughter.

Holly doing her best “spot the ball” pose. Photo: Adidas Infinite Trails

#Vanlife at it’s finest

I felt very happy to be in my van in the mountains, with good people and was happy with the choices I’d made to get me there. I couldn’t resist the allure of cycling up Austria’s highest road point on my way to meet my Adidas teammates, but being too stubborn to stop and fill my water bottle early on, I was resigned to stopping and eating snow on the last few km up the long climb to the Edelweissspitsze at 2500m! 

I’d been very much enjoying my van life until it decided to blow up just one km from where I was due to meet my team mates. To cut a long story short, large amounts of smoke, traffic chaos, police intervention, reversing around corners with no steering or brakes…. And several thousands of euros of repairs.

#vanlife has become #buslife. I tried not to let the van put a dampener on an otherwise fun week with Adidas Terrex, racing the innovative Infinite Trails relay.

There are three loops; 25km, 60km and 40km, all with a few thousand metres of climb thrown in for good measure. This was to be another good test for the foot, the longest I’d run since February, but I came out of it relatively unscathed, other than spending the last 20km sicking up large amounts of foam which was a little odd.

I managed to get the fastest ladies’ time on my loop, and would even have been fast enough to be on the winning men’s team so that was quite a confidence boost. 

Back to “normal”

July 1^st is officially when I am allowed to revert to my normal training, but given how hard I ran on Saturday I’m still going to take things relatively easy and listen to my body as I prepare the rest of my season. [Holly did return to Yorkshire and run two fell races in two days… – Ed.]

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’d rather run a little bit slower and still be running, than hammer myself into the ground to get fit again and end up being sidelined. 

So here’s to some more months in the mountains in a hopefully repaired van…. 

RELATED: Japan on two wheels, snowy passes and a broken foot

Holly Page features in the ‘Fast 10: class of 2019’ and over the course of the year will share her running journey. You can follow Holly on Twitter and Instagram, while further information about the ‘class of 2019’ can be found here.

Are you a fan of Fast Running? Then please support us. For as little as the price of a monthly magazine you can support Fast Running – and it only takes a minute. Thank you.

The post Getting back to racing appeared first on Fast Running.

Ironically my April Fast Running contribution does not include any fast running. Or indeed any running at all. I’m writing this whilst I sit in a hospital in Germany (thanks for the support Adidas Terrex!), waiting for my second MRI of the month. That’s not how I had intended my April to pan out, but hey ho, sometimes things don’t go to plan. 

On 1the first of April I headed off to Japan for the first skyrace of the World Series. After which I would travel to the mountains of Western China for the second one which I’d actually won last year and knew I wanted to return to.  

Other than the sore foot (see March article) I was feeling really fit and strong. Although I’m not one for outward self-confidence when it comes to running, I guess I genuinely felt like I could do pretty well at the races. 

Seeing a new country on two wheels

I’d not been to Japan before so decided to spend the first 10 days cycling tramping around. My plan had been to get a running session in each morning before cycling but given how sore my foot was I decided it would be wise to give it “total rest” and just stick to cycling. I adapted my road bike by attaching my sleeping bag with bungees to the handlebars and then bought two bike packing bags for the frame and seatpost. No space for a tent, but I would make do with a bivvy bag and warm thoughts.

I came up with a logistics masterplan and arranged with a Warmshowers host (a fantastic community of people) in Osaka to leave my race bag with him whilst I pedalled around, and then swap the bike for the race bag before I travelled to the race. 

“Where are you heading” asked Yoshi. “No idea”… I was just going to make it up as I went along. 

Making it up as I went along

The first day could have been better; I tried and failed to get an MRI on my foot at three different hospitals, then spent the rest of the day cycling in the freezing rain until it got dark. Eventually I found a picnic shelter outside a little restaurant and decided to spend the night there. 

I thought I’d sit in the restaurant trying to warm up and dry out until somebody came to bring me the bill / tell me it was time to leave and battle a night freezing in the rain outside. 

After a little while the restaurant owner asked if I’d like to sleep there. I didn’t take much persuading and made up my bed on the floor. After a long flight and an afternoon of miserable cycling I was pretty exhausted and fell asleep instantly… only to be awoken 5 minutes later by the lady inviting me to join her and her extended family for dinner; they’d even wheeled out the 93-year-old grandmother to meet me!

Jokes are an international language

Honestly the last thing I wanted to do was spend the night being sociable, communicating through Google Translate, but I thought I ought to. After all, smiling and laughing goes a long way, and it is very possible to make jokes even when you can’t speak the same language. They lived in a basic house with the restaurant attached, they weren’t particularly wealthy and had lived there for generation after generation, but they were so kind and welcoming.

I’d been told that Japan was a safe country and it certainly seemed that way. I had no problems sleeping in public parks and temples and also had a few nights with couchsurfing / warmshowers hosts which was a great way to get an insight into Japanese life. 

When I got too smelly, I would go to the public baths (called an “onsen”) and flounder around in the steaming water with the local women. Unfortunately my lack of Japanese meant that I couldn’t distinguish between the symbols for “Male” and “Female” so had quite a shock when I opened the door to a large room of naked Japanese men enjoying the bubbles. 

An adventurous soul on the bike and the karaoke

I love to travel by bike; I find it to be a great way to see somewhere- a compromise between the slow pace of walking or running and the too quick pace of a car. There’s a real sense of freedom, having everything you need strapped to your bike, no clue where you will sleep that night, contrasting beautifully quiet closed roads (I carried my bike over a lot of No Entry barriers!) with “hold on tight and hope the lorries see you” tunnels and I even had a joyous day where I cycled 100miles on a motorway. That was really grim. 

In and amongst the cycling, I tried all sorts of food including matcha tea icecream sandwiches, icecream with an onsen egg on it and baby squid for breakfast. I dressed as a tiger at a baseball game and sang karaoke like a true Japanese woman. 

One “no entry” barrier too far

One day in particular turned into a bit of an adventure. A bit too much of an adventure. Having woken up to my frozen sleeping bag outside a temple, I’d got up early and decided to cycle 45km up and over a pass to a town for breakfast. I clambered over yet another road closed barrier and started cycling up the hill, big snow walls on either side of me where it had been cleared from the road. I eventually came across the huge diggers which were making the road ready for spring. The guys gestured at me to go back down. But after a few seconds of deliberation I gestured back that I would continue on. 

I somehow climbed up and onto the snow wall carrying my bike but walking was so much more difficult than I’d thought. With every step I was sinking thigh deep into the snow. It was like running an ultra race except that with an ultra race at least you know how far it is until the end. I had no idea how far it was. My map said 14km up and over the pass but I was moving at less than 1km / hour. This was also pre-breakfast and all I had with me was the remains of a giant lettuce I’d bought the night before. Delicious and nutritious.

After a few hours slogging, I came across two guys carrying guns. We couldn’t understand each other but they were quite surprised to see a random Western girl walking / sinking her way without snow shoes over the pass…carrying a ladened bike on her back. They were the only other signs of life, and once they’d gone there were no more footprints and I was very much alone.

Nothing worth bear-ing in mind

I remembered the signs I’d seen for bears a few days previously and it dawned on me that it was prime bear time as they came out of hibernation. Hey ho, hopefully bears don’t like lettuce [or mountain runner – Editor]. The “road” had been cut into the side of the steep mountain meaning that I had to negotiate various points where avalanches had come down. 

I was somewhat uneasy about the whole thing but there wasn’t much I could do so I just got on with it, there’s no point sitting around feeling sorry for your predicament. It’s not going to help. I fully expected to have to spend the night up there trudging through the snow, warding off bears and avalanches and bonking big time, but miraculously, the snow came to an end after five hours. 

It took me more than two weeks to get the feeling back in my toes, I’d got ice burn up my legs, and my back and neck were pretty beaten up from bike carrying. 

Finally an MRI

It was pouring with rain and I still had a really long way to go to get to my Warmshowers host that evening so I ended up persuading a bus driver to let me get on. My host happened to live next to an MRI centre, so I went the next day to get my foot checked out. “FRACTURE”. Oh great. I’d been told it was probably just bruised, or tissue damage. But a fracture was a whole new ball game.

It wasn’t the best news to receive only one week into a six week trip. So I annulled my racing plans in Japan and China and mulled over what to do next. 

It’s really not the end of the world

Two weeks later and I’m back in Europe. I’ve been told that I need another two weeks of rest before I can start to run again. So that will have been two months off altogether. I’ve given up my place on the GB team for the upcoming Trail World Champs and not sure when my first race back will be but we shall see. 

Obviously it’s extremely frustrating to have put in so much work for it to be wasted right at the start of the season from one freak incident, but sport can be cruel, and ultimately it’s just running, and I’m very fortunate to have so many other opportunities.

Flying back via 19 hours wandering around poverty stricken Manila puts everything into perspective. Yet another example of the lottery of birth which I’ve seen so much of over the years and which always makes me appreciate who I am and the privilege of having choices in life. Yes, woe is me, I have a fractured foot. But it’s really not the end of the world.

Holly Page features in the ‘Fast 10: class of 2019’ and over the course of the year will share her running journey. You can follow Holly on Twitter and Instagram, while further information about the ‘class of 2019’ can be found here.

Are you a fan of Fast Running? Then please support us. For as little as the price of a monthly magazine you can support Fast Running – and it only takes a minute. Thank you.

The post Japan on two wheels, snowy passes and a broken foot appeared first on Fast Running.

I’ll be honest, March hasn’t been the best month in the jolly Holly monthly saga. The day after returning from Costa Rica / Panama, I headed down to Sheffield to give a talk at the Kendal Mountain Festival tour, obviously not missing the chance to squeeze in a fell race in the Peak District on my way through.

The next weekend’s running involved some finish line drama for almost victory in a parkrun in the Lake District before taking some friends up Scafell on a rather “wild weather” weekend.

By mid-March, having only been back in the UK for ten days, I was already a bit fed up of the wild weather and running mostly on my own and my body and mind were maybe still a bit fatigued from Costa Rica and the big mileage I was doing. I was looking forward to the Adidas Terrex team training camp on Fuerteventura; guaranteed sunshine and guaranteed good company for a motivation boost.

Having only joined the team this year I didn’t know very many people other than those I’d met at races over the last few years, but everyone was extremely welcoming, and I instantly felt part of the group. We were joined by the footwear and apparel teams and it was good to know that they’re athlete driven and want to respond to what WE want to wear.

That pesky little stone

I got in one good day of training, and then on a morning interval session on a dirt road I stood on a stone. One stone. And that was the end of my running. Something happened to the ball of my foot / plantar and no amount of massage or rest seemed to be able to solve it.

I hired a bike and learnt to aquajog thinking I would only need a few days without running, but it was still disappointing to miss what was supposed to be a key period of training in the build up to my upcoming races. Instead, I focused my attentions on work (now onto urban transport masterplans for Lagos…), reminding myself that I was pretty fortunate to be in the sunshine and in good company at least!

Photo: @riffraff002

I’m writing this back in the UK, bags (including bike!) packed ready to leave for Japan / China at 3.45am for the first of the Skyrunning World Series. However, given that I now haven’t run for two weeks other than the occasional short jog, I’m questioning whether I’ll realistically be able to race a highly technical course out there.

I love parkruns and yesterday I couldn’t resist the temptation of trying out the new Centre Vale one as a test for the foot running a bit faster, but by the time I crossed the finish line the pain was so bad I was hobbling just walking, and I’ve not really moved since!

I know I should stop moaning as all runners have been through this, but it’s frustrating that all the hard work I’ve put in over the winter has likely been in vain just because of one stone; I wouldn’t mind so much if it was an overuse injury because that would be my fault but this is just one misplaced stone / footstep (I blame the stone not my footstep!).

The frustration

I’m always wittering on about how there’s so much more to life than running, and of course there definitely is, but it’s the frustration of all those wasted hours and sacrifice, and not knowing how long it will be before I can train properly. Like so many things, you don’t miss it until it’s taken away from you. Everything else is strong – legs, lungs… but not my foot. Will I have to wait a month, two months… it’s hard enough to fit training around work, travels and life anyway and when I have such doubts in my mind it does make me question what the point in it all is.

But hey ho, hopefully things will take a turn for the better and ten days cycling through the Japanese paddy fields and sleeping in a bivvy bag will help to heal the foot in time to at least be on the start line of April’s skyrace. Failing that I’ll just have to eat enough sushi to become a world champion sumo wrestler instead.

RELATED: Holly Page named in strong GB team for World Trail Champs in Portugal

Holly Page features in the ‘Fast 10: class of 2019’ and over the course of the year will share her running journey. You can follow Holly on Twitter and Instagram, while further information about the ‘class of 2019’ can be found here.

Are you a fan of Fast Running? Then please support us. For as little as the price of a monthly magazine you can support Fast Running – and it only takes a minute. Thank you.

The post Even a little stone can have a big impact appeared first on Fast Running.

When I was invited to a race in Costa Rica of course I said yes. Who wouldn’t want to wave behind some dreary British landscapes so that they could eat mangoes under the tropical sun?

It was only a few months after agreeing to go that I properly looked at what I’d just signed myself up for. The Coastal Challenge is a six day 250km race, “hotter and harder than Marathon des Sables” I read, “10,000m of climb…”. Ah, bugger.

I’d actually decided to spend the winter months trying to build back some speed. Running six mountain marathons through the jungle would do just the trick… not!

After a two day turnaround at home (including collecting aforementioned Jan article van from Cornwall), I arrived at Manchester airport in the snow, got to the gate to find the flight was delayed… and then cancelled.

A seemingly endless 25-hour wait ensued, including me leaving my belongings in an airport café and sneaking out for a run around a slushy park close to the airport, only to return and find that my suitcase was about to be destroyed as a “security threat”.

Lucky I didn’t go for an extra park loop!

Eventually, I made it to Costa Rica, got a rickety old bus to a little hostel and went for a morning run around the local park.

I even found an athletics track but admittedly cracking out 20 x 1 minute reps on a track at 1,200m after not sleeping for two days was not the highest quality session.

Pre-race build-up

I had a week before the race and decided to head south to run up Cerro Chirripo, Costa Rica’s highest mountain at 3,820m. After finding a downtown electronics shop to fix my laptop so I could work, I got a couple of buses and two hitch-hiking rides to a village in the mountains.

I went straight out for a run when I arrived; it was a little spooky running up through the rainforest to the light of my headtorch with only the deafening noise of insects for company.

The next day I ate a big breakfast to fuel me for the day and then headed up to the summit. It was 21km and a climb of 2,700m, but I knew I’d pass a refuge where most people sleep on the way where I could buy some supplies if I was running out of energy.

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Just your average Saturday morning run. 42km with 2700m+ Made it to the top of Costa Rica's highest point Cerro Chirripo (3820m) in time for an afternoon nap. Turned out to be quite a long run with no food (oopsy!) The man in the refuge I'd planned to eat at wouldn't let me buy any biscuits because I wasn't staying there. A kind soul. Although I was spurred on by some motivational quotes on the path, I had no choice but to embrace the bonk albeit I couldn't feel my hands by the end. Healthy. Now lying in bed feeling sorry for my pounding head and rising nausea. Oh happy days. Beautiful part of the world though!! #adidasTERREX

A post shared by Holly Page (@hollyapage) on Feb 2, 2019 at 6:34pm PST

It was a pretty technical path but I was feeling good and pushed up and up until I got to the top though it took longer than I’d thought it might. By that time I was pretty peckish but I found a few biscuit crumbs on the summit which I ate in semi-desperation!

I popped into the refuge on the way down but the man refused to sell me anything because I wasn’t staying there. It turns out nobody really runs up and down in a day so I was quite the oddity. So despite the fact that my hands were going numb (this is my usual sign of bonking!), I plodded on down the remaining 2,000m descent back to the village and bought lots of delicious food!

I was joined the next day by my friend (runner extraordinaire and former Swedish 5,000m record holder) Ida Nilsson. After a few days running around in the mountains we went down to embrace the ridiculous coastal heat.

The Coastal Challenge attracts competitors from all around the world, many of them had previously run Marathon des Sables and were looking for their next challenge. I was told stories of training in heat chambers and six week steam room adaptation… I prepared by standing in a boiling hot hostel room working on a bunk bed for a few days before the race.

I felt rather inadequate! Ida had also come out for the race, and the other ‘elite’ woman was Ragna Debats, the current world trail running champion and current course record holder, so I was in the company of some rather speedy ladies!

My Coastal Challenge experience

The race was extremely varied, lots of fast dirt roads, but also plenty of river sections to negotiate, time spent running on the beach and trekking through the pristine jungle. The heat was incredible and made sleeping for more than a couple of hours each night virtually impossible.

Photo: Ian Corless

Furthermore, we were woken up each morning at 3.00am for breakfast, ready for the 5-5.30am start line. The positive of this was that we could at least have a couple of hours running without the ridiculous sunshine, and we’d usually finished each day well before lunchtime which was a nice feeling. This meant there was plenty of time to put up the tent, have several cold showers, pop some blisters and eat excellent food before the next stage.

I won’t go into detail about every stage, but suffice to say I was extremely happy with how the race went – second female and fifth overall.

I genuinely never thought I’d be able to finish it without getting injured, but I actually felt really strong and finished each stage with more left in the tank. I broke the female record each day but Ida broke it by more, winning two of the stages outright!

But I did manage to take stage wins on day four and day six which was pretty cool and made me question how I could have done had I pushed a bit harder in the earlier stages (in which I was also plagued with horrible blisters and stomach upset).

Photo: Ian Corless

I learnt a lot from the experience, that maybe I am stronger than I think and that stage racing is actually pretty fun. Maybe the Marathon des Sables can’t be THAT hard if this event was deemed to be worse!?

After the race, everyone headed back up to San Jose but as I still had 10 days left before my flight, I decided I should get a boat, five buses and try my hitch-hiking luck and head down to Panama.

I had some ‘active recovery’ by running up its highest volcano, circumnavigating a pathless Caribbean island on a mountain bike, going on some very unplanned jungle adventures (e.g. finding myself in thigh deep swamps and head high grasses), eating lots of papayas and occasionally relaxing and reading my book in a hammock.

Not a shabby February at all!

Holly Page features in the ‘Fast 10: class of 2019’ and over the course of the year will share her running journey. You can follow Holly on Twitter and Instagram, while further information about the ‘class of 2019’ can be found here.

Are you a fan of Fast Running? Then please support us. For as little as the price of a monthly magazine you can support Fast Running – and it only takes a minute. Thank you.

The post Off to Costa Rica for a six day 250km race appeared first on Fast Running.