tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24993949234769587802024-03-06T09:02:35.814+00:00Jez Bragg - Ultra Distance Mountain, Trail and Road RunnerRamblings and reports on my ultra running in the UK and further afield....Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.comBlogger142125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-59287440737984994592019-03-06T13:57:00.000+00:002019-03-06T20:15:10.706+00:00Hitting a crossroads & reflecting<div style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">***this reads more legibly from a smart phone format, desktop font contrast poor. Posted from Blogger via iPhone hence bugs, will sort when possible! ****</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The glorified super human efforts of us endurance types sometimes need tempering. Our endeavours are often portrayed by too many glossy social media images, or other motivational feasts of words, and the realities often get buried or untold.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So herewith some tempering. I guess I’m at the stage where I can reflect more and more on the path I’ve taken through 15 years of running seriously; what has gone well, what has not, what I would change, what I would not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The biggest danger of our sport and our associated traits as runners is knowing when to stop. We programme ourselves to push, push, push. When we over-step the mark, we’ll often create a public narrative to fuel more pushing; training harder, more early morning starts, greater demands all round. Balance is essential for sustainability; obsession in ultra running is such a fine balance. We are only human after all, and it’s only running.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I’m going through a fairly significant stop point - a gradual process initially, but far more abrupt this week. Since the days of my A levels some 20 years ago I’ve lived with Ulcerative Collitis (now seemingly drifting into Crohns) a life long Inflammatory Bowel Disease which at times hasn’t been much fun. I was fit and active as a teenager, albeit weekends were extremes of competitive school and club sport, weekend jobs and probably too much drinking. On diagnosis I became fitter with regular gym sessions, classes, beasting the ergo and running outside. I became determined to be as fit and healthy as I could be, despite my condition, giving my body the best possible chance of fighting through. There were so many times when gripey bowels and inner pains made exercising a tough ask to start with, but once into it, the distraction and endorphins did wonders for my positivity and ability to cope. I founds ways around the ‘logistical’ challenges of my illness, and my love for running rurally always helped. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The transition into running came from occasional road events with friends, then a fundraiser for the National Association for Crohns & Colitis at the London Marathon in 2002. I sold myself a lie to train harder - it would be a one off and I would claim a reasonable time to move on to something else. As so many keen runners will relate to, that was of course was just the start of it, and I soon found that the obvious logistical challenges of running with bowel disease were far outweighed by the positives. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Indeed, most people still don’t know I have suffered with illness all through the subsequent 15 years of competing at a range of distances from 5km to 200+miles, on all sorts of terrain and many different places. I’ve run for my country several times, claimed various course records and wins over the years, run all sorts of long trail projects and stood shoulder to shoulder with the world’s best on the biggest of stages. I’m so incredibly grateful for that, you wouldn’t believe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This may start to sound like some sort of retirement statement, which it’s not. Despite the latest vicious turn with my illness I will be back out there, whether competitively or not. It’s mainly self-help reflection as I sit in hospital during an expected 5-6 day stint, admittedly rather bored, and trying to process where things might head from here. It’s also about being more open and accepting of my illness, perhaps linked to my competitive juices dropping a little, whether permanent or not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The past few years have been really difficult with changing symptoms and more pro-longed flare ups. I’ve managed to keep things ticking over with my running, even squeezing in some consistent training weeks in here and there, but it’s been an increasingly fine line with constant fatigue and recovery issues from not absorbing all that my body needs. That final 20% of fitness to run like I used to has been simply impossible to achieve.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Something had to change, and having now seen on a video screen with my own eyes how bad the bowel inflammation is, it’s easy to accept the doctor’s recommendations for a spell in hospital for some more intense treatment and an attempt to properly turn it around. I knew it was coming after Fridays tests so I sneaked in my usual local jog on Monday lunchtime, just before the impending call from the admissions team on Monday evening. It was a real healer in processing a tough little spell ahead. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So here I am, holed up and sedentary in a hospital room for several days, reading, listening to music and reflecting. It feels backwards to be in hospital, I don’t feel like a patient needing help, but that’s probably a classic symptom of a long term soldiering mindset. Last week I jogged my usual 50 ish mile week, managing my runs (!) as I do, and now this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At this point to have a way forward feels essential and positive mentally, albeit there is a fairly stark realisation that surgery may be the only option after so many years successfully managing to fend it off. If that’s what it comes to, so be it, I will deal with it, and adapt accordingly. If I can get out on the trails most days, keep fit and active, I’ll be content. If I spend less time in the bushes when out running with mates, all the better... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I suppose the reflection from all this is that everyone has their little battles in one way or another, but in so many cases you’ll never know without scratching beneath the surface.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The running community is special in so many ways, just appreciate every moment you have to get out there, support one another and don’t forget that for the reams of glossy material out there, it’s not all like that.</span></div>
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Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-28040864891148690302018-10-15T17:24:00.004+01:002018-10-15T17:24:50.507+01:00Tor des Geants (340km, 24,000m+/-)<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My approach to the TOR was a blend of ignorance and denial which in hindsight was a great combination. I knew enough about the race to be excited about tackling it and possess a deep desire to finish, but equally I wasn’t interested in reading up on the detail, such as previous competitor’s accounts, which were unlikely to provide much comfort. It wouldn’t be hard to get worked up about this race months before the start line, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. I knew it was a beast, and that's what I signed up for, so I had to just get on with it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The denial part is interlinked – pretend you don’t really have such an epic race on the horizon, enjoy the summer, get fit, strong and healthy – don’t over train. Within the constraints of my life with two day jobs, a lot of associated travel, a little boy, family, friends etc – not much else was feasible, but admittedly it wasn’t all that easy to let go of my usual, more meticulous, approach which would have had me out in the Alps running the course at least once over the summer. I literally only knew the last 10km of the route which overlaps with UTMB – the silver lining – lots of shiny new trails to enjoy. It’s also quite nice to know the ‘home straight’.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">It’s now three weeks since the race finished (when I meaningfully started this account, it’s taken a while longer to complete), and a thick fog still lurks around my head, along with giant ulcers on the back of my tongue. The altitude induced fluid which bubbled on my chest and up my throat for the second half of the race has thankfully passed, and so too the hacking cough. My legs feel fine and ready to go, but they were always the least of my troubles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I tried to start this write up the week I got back, over dinner one evening whilst working away. I got two sentences in before my plate was empty and I started nodding dog. Too soon to compute but now with the aid of the route maps to relate the memories back to the trail and unpick the blur, hopefully the story is there. The bottom line is that this race dredges right to the bottom of the tank and requires the ultimate commitment. If you are happy leave a piece of your mind and body on those mountains, you will probably succeed, and it will be worth the investment. Be warned, the TOR gets into your blood and you go deep. Very deep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The stats for this race are utterly bonkers. The organisers quote 340km in distance and 24,000m of elevation (vertical climbing and descending) and yes, it’s also non-stop. My Garmin watch recorded 235miles (considerably more than 340km) and stopped around 10miles short of the finish. I believe the ascent stats are about right, but many others have recorded closer to 30,000m. Whatever, in the grand scheme of things it’s not important. In context it’s around two UTMBs, plus some, or 24 reps of Snowdon from Llanberis. However you look at it, it’s going to screw you up. But in reality, the stats have to be kept out of your head, and this is just a tour of the mountains like any other (bare with me). Amongst competitors the Tor des Geants gets shortened to ‘TOR’ and is clearly deliberate for a couple of different reasons, not least avoiding the obvious and unnecessary psyche-out from a mighty name. It’s a circuit, a journey, a start-run-get to the finish line-stop thing. It follows there is a ridiculous modesty to the whole concept, not least in the name. It’s not even something I really shouted about before or after. If they don’t get 100 miles, how on earth…</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It’s the TOR – let’s go get it done.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The dizzy surreal journey started at 12noon Sunday (9</span><sup style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">September 2018) from Courmayeur in Italy, one of my favourite alpine mountain towns at the head of the Aosta Valley, tucked in against the rocky slopes of Mont Blanc. I’ve visited Cormayeur many times before, both in passing and for longer, and I really love the place. The days leading up to an undertaking like this are usually anxiety ridden and not at all relaxing, but it was genuinely pleasant hanging out in Courmayeur for a few days before the start. The sun shone and there was a great vibe around town for the TOR takeover. Whilst this is a really big thing for the town, the feel is very different to UTMB week in Chamonix for example. There is less razzmatazz and bling; the town retains it’s pleasant atmosphere, and the scale of it all is just right.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHmNlOjcziR_kMRwaAl8jJhi-GsmnjUjl8KM264Ksi3sRfzE-6bZ3C6aBKhk9HWBcLI7XMgFSCVaWfeCQ5DtF1orA7izy_5gFgDMxQ8rfXIExBtytsyC7iyzN7ecKmsoQYVINRBZs1uHgG/s1600/race+number.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHmNlOjcziR_kMRwaAl8jJhi-GsmnjUjl8KM264Ksi3sRfzE-6bZ3C6aBKhk9HWBcLI7XMgFSCVaWfeCQ5DtF1orA7izy_5gFgDMxQ8rfXIExBtytsyC7iyzN7ecKmsoQYVINRBZs1uHgG/s400/race+number.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">But the unique part is that the TOR brings out some proper local Italian passion. What soon became clear is that there’s no forced embracing of the race - the locals are well and truly behind this thing; they are genuinely proud of their stunning valley and they admire what this mad bunch of international runners are setting out to accomplish. During my time on the course there were countless examples of volunteers and locals going way beyond the call of duty in supporting and facilitating our madness. It makes such a difference, and they become a driving force behind every single runner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Aside from a last minute parking panic with half an hour to go before the start, I felt calm and well organised as I pottered across to the town centre and battled my way through the crowds to the start gantry. The departure was stirring and electric, as well as being at a predictably stupid pace. The rush was to get in position before road narrows to single track, no one wanting to get boxed in. We were paraded on a big loop around town before crossing the river and heading up through the woods towards the first mountain pass of Col Arp.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiFqe2iX6vQdLohKqSpI7XWAY_JKB7Gq7lVaRvdzwFeYsuB6ZtL7CPK3V0aiF0ThHbLXPkMUTE3Pw9XPHAlDuJu_q7jscr5RipL1LUjJdWcFnKLIjb2hoWwWs1w8VByRK2Szr1vGqEfx4m/s1600/start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1061" data-original-width="1590" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiFqe2iX6vQdLohKqSpI7XWAY_JKB7Gq7lVaRvdzwFeYsuB6ZtL7CPK3V0aiF0ThHbLXPkMUTE3Pw9XPHAlDuJu_q7jscr5RipL1LUjJdWcFnKLIjb2hoWwWs1w8VByRK2Szr1vGqEfx4m/s640/start.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Non-stop, that’s the important bit, and 150 hours to get it done. The big question I didn’t know the answer to was how I would fair after one, two, three or more nights of little or no sleep. It was always going to be steep learning curve as a completely new format of race to me. The TOR is divided into seven legs of roughly 50km with a ‘life base’ between each, typically located in the larger valley towns and villages. At these locations I could access my drop bag to replenish personal kit and supplies, as well as take the opportunity to sleep (hmmm) and get a proper meal in. Many of the high mountain refuges on the course also offered their dormitories for short spells of sleep and were actually much quieter and more effective for some rest.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">As an unsupported runner with no crew, the life bases were pretty key moments to sort myself out and the fact that I could have a single drop bag that would be transferred on to all the life bases down the course was a complete saviour. That way I didn’t need six sets of everything and avoided those tricky kit decisions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Between the life bases were smaller checkpoints roughly every 8-10km with a slightly more basic spread of fill. Most runners seemed to focus on one life base to the next, I just worked on whatever was in front of me; the next mountain pass or valley bottom, a checkpoint or something that looked vaguely interesting on the map or course profile sheet. Getting too ahead of oneself felt like a dangerous game in what ultimately was, the biggest head fuck imaginable. In such a long race it’s simply not possible to gain the usual comfort through statistics:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I’m half way through now” – only 110 miles to run then! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Well that’s 24hours under my belt” – just a couple more days with no sleep then! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And so it goes on…</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Leg 1: Courmayeur to Valgrisenche (50km)</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">There was a lot to learn and take in on the first few legs as a TOR newbie. I was blown away by the pace being pushed early doors and intrigued to see what the ramifications would be later on. I felt slightly smug in watching twenty or more charge off but ironically, I was probably going too fast myself. On the first pass Col Arp (2,571m) there was a noisy huddle of spectators; they had to be fit and enthusiastic just to get up there and they filled the valley with a clatter of alpine cow bells. There were snakes of runners making the pass and epic views back down the Aosta Valley towards Courmayeur below.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">And so my new routine began. After each such little milestone I would pull out my crude blue peter-esq laminated course profile and find out where the little yellow TOR flags would take me next. I was entering the TOR bubble. One thousand meters down to la Thuile was the answer (18.6km), the town bustling with Sunday afternoon visitors and TOR enthusiasts. The main thing to contend with, apart from not charging off like a complete wally, was the heat – probably only mid-twenties and irrelevant in a shorter event – but the long game is all about looking after yourself, so I was drinking loads and regularly taking salt caps. I always knew it would take me a long time to settle into the race, primarily getting used to the relentless up and downs, not something I had done for a while. I soon recalled that the first part of an ascent or descent was always the worst – the change in muscle group – and re-finding a rhythm. The head demons were always loudest at these points, and they would certainly be active for the next couple of days.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">It didn’t take long for there to be shake-ups in the field. I didn’t know what position I was in, but I did know that people were already dropping. Despite being fairly fresh still, it was a proper slog up to Passo Alto (2,817m) in the baking afternoon heat and I made use of a couple of mountain streams to refill bottles. Even at this early stage it felt like there was still some intensity in the competition for places - like it really mattered? I was getting sucked in but felt like I was moving reasonably comfortably. I could hold my own on the climbs but was overtaken on the descents. I felt on balance there was a lot more risk of body failure from pummelling the quads downhill. The passes came thick and fast, the next up to Col Crosatie (2,829m) was steep and relentless but each time there was an enjoyable, slightly spacey sense of europhia at the top, especially being in such magical surroundings. Clear blue early evening skies provided far reaching views of the valleys. It felt really special just being out on the trail tackling this thing.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Leg 2: Vagrisenche to Cognes (106.2km)</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">By the first life base at Valgrisenche (50km) I was ready for a good feed up and a brief sit down to reset for the next stage. My aim was to be in and out in around twenty minutes and I wasn’t far off. There were already some pretty trashed looking people in the checkpoint who I doubted would be going any further. Wow. The heap of drop bags at the exit suggested I was well within the Top 20 which was surprising but re-assuring that I was making some progress.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Night time in the mountains, under the glow of a headtorch, a big night ahead. Three passes of around 3,000m – all by the cover of darkness. There was a familiar theme to these legs, some serious valley hopping. From the valley floor there would be a wooded section – still and humid – before exiting the tree line for a (thankfully) fresher feeling open high-level push to the pass. What perfect weather for something like this, and how special to be out under the stars journeying on foot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">On reflection, the effort level was significant already, but I’m also not sure there is a steady way to deal with all that climbing, you just have to get on with it. To Col Fenetre (2,854m) was long and drawn out, but more direct back down to the valley floor on the other side. The night turned into a complete blur, and even with the aid of maps in front of me now, I cannot differentiate between the three passes. There would be a solid two hours of climbing for each, feeling disorientated on the seemingly drawn out switch backs zig zagging up the mountain side, and pondering the time gaps to the headtorches below. Already my head was playing around; exaggerating the height and distance to the lamps on the passes themselves, not helping morale. Monday dawn broke on the initial descent from the big one, Col Loson (3,299m) down to the life base at Cogne (106.2km). Down a full 1,880m or 6,000ft! Hovering around 10</span><sup style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">place, I was feeling like I had been chewed up and spat out by the TOR already, and again I was desperate for a life base reset.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Leg 3: Cogne to Donnas (151.3km)</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Monday morning around breakfast time in Cogne it was already getting hot. The working week in the village was well underway with shop-keepers opening up, people heading off in their cars. I didn’t feel any sense of normality. Not even one third of my way round this beast of a course, and I felt utterly done. There was no one to share my woes with, no crew to give me a kick up the arse. I didn’t even have a clue what lied ahead. I exchanged a few WhatsApp messages with mates back home, just to retain some sense of normality.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">In an increasingly zombified state I followed the same replen routine at the life base to stash bars, Maurten sachets and sweets into any nook and cranny I could find in my pack. I switched headtorch batteries and treated myself to a new top. I forced down a plate of rice, egg and tuna – a random mixture of savouries to try to re-fire the machine. Several folk around me chose to sleep, I decided to crack on before it got really warm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Jogging out of Cogne I soon started to feel flat, and that was the start of a long, long spell feeling below par. Tiredness was probably the biggest factor along with the heat. Or perhaps the 21 hours of vicious mountain running already complete. I mean it was pleasant t-shirt and shorts weather in a sedentary manner, but very easy to over-heat in direct sun when grinding some proper climbs. I felt frustrated at a drift in pace as a few people came past. Again, did it matter? – no – it was more the worry of this being the start of a race long downward spiral. I had planned to stay off the aid station cola for the first couple of days, but that was all I craved in the baking heat. It was a temporary patch on diminishing energy levels with instant simple sugars and caffeine. It was however a big relief to see the profile of just one big pass on the whole leg followed by a 25km+ descent right down to the Aosta valley floor and the low point of the course at 300m.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">That morning on the climb was strange, it was all starting to a feel a little out of body. I tried putting on some tunes and experimented with a variety of different energy foods, but the lack of gas remained. Going into new territory in terms of non-stop distance in the mountains, it was sensible not to fight it too hard, and just to ride it through. Again, I felt anxious about the thought of a couple of days in the pain cave.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Any thoughts the long descent from Fenetre di Camporcher (2,837m) would be some kind of easy ride were pure fantasy. Not only done-in when climbing, I soon realised descending wasn’t particularly smooth either. Oh well, only 6,000ft down….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Refuge Dondena in the valley below the pass was packed with afternoon hikers, all doing the sensible thing with a long lunch in the sun - oh how I craved being them – or did I? Still, I got looked after like a saint, and signed my name on their souvenir TOR poster as is customary in all the checkpoints. Just out of the refuge I slowed to sort my headphones out. Turning clumsily, I clattered to the deck, scraping my elbow and side. It was an utterly comical wipe out. Covered in sweaty dust and blood dripping from my elbow I sheepishly continued, down…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The feeling of discomfort in descending was utterly frustrating, and at the next couple checkpoints I definitely had the hump. I could see from the online tracking that gaps to runners behind were fairly sizeable, yet I felt like I was moving dreadfully and that I deserved to be overtaken. All I wanted to do was smile and laugh it off, but I was just too unconvincing – who are you trying to kid the voices would say in retaliation? Some half technical cobbled sections just before the Cardonnery checkpoint (133km) had me cursing, as did some greasy rocky sections just further down. Leaf covered rocky trails were really not doing it for me right now. I wanted to see what I was putting my sore legs and feet on and I couldn’t deal with the discomfort of ankle twists. In normal circumstances it would be a fun and fast descent but I just couldn’t get into it all, and above all felt overwhelmed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">After a long spell in the woods gradually descending a side valley to Aosta, I eventually popped out on to asphalt and descended the final section to cross the Aosta valley floor properly for the first time. Under the motorway, past a supermarket – houses, people, cars! There were some lovely little sections through the old villages before finally reaching the life base at Donnas (330m). The western half of the course was complete, although I was still short of actually being half way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Donnas was roasting in the late afternoon sunshine, the sun beating down against the south facing mountain slopes which the town is tucked in against. I had massively overheated and was really feeling pretty delirious. In the life base I set about my usual routine, also getting a bollocking from a grumpy bloke in charge for putting my bag on the table. “Do you have any idea?!” I thought to myself, but refrained from rising to it! Everyone in the sports hall was thinking the same thing, but it really wasn’t worth it. There’s always one… It was a complete exception, every single other volunteer I came accross couldn’t do enough to provide support and kindness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The food on offer, whilst lovely, was not what I needed. I craved some savoury dirt – but had to settle for some tomato pasta followed by yoghurt. I certainly wasn’t doing it the easy way without a crew, but part of me also quite liked the complete independence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Leg 4: Donnas to Gressoney (205.9km)<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I reluctantly exited the sports hall checkpoint, back out into the baking sun, and gingerly made my way through Donnas town before ascending the ominous south facing slopes out of the Aosta valley. TOR enthusiasts continued to pop up. Many cars passed tooting their horns which I wryly acknowledged with a smirk and a raised hand. The sun was slowly inching its way behind the ridgeline on the opposite side of the valley and I longed for it to move quicker and for some cooler night time temperatures. Heading into my second night on the trail, I felt anxious about the night ahead – these were, by far, the toughest spells mentally.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">These next few legs remain vivid in my memory despite running them in a headtorch bubble, unlike much of the previous 100km. With the temperature now a bit cooler, I felt alert mentally and my body seemed to be getting more resilient as the hard earned kilometres clicked by. It’s a bizarre concept, but in truth, despite the aspects of discomfort I’ve been describing, my mind was still utterly focused in getting this thing done, and perhaps my body was just slowly starting to fall into line.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Just you're average mid-race Garmin stats!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">It was through relative civilisation for the next few legs with the trail generally being that bit lower in elevation, although from La Sassa we were back into the high mountains and boy it got rough. Between la Sassa and Rifugio Coda, once again just ‘running’ completely on my own, the trail got rougher and rougher as it climbed. To start with I thought I was just making a meal of it in my delirious state, but it wasn’t just me. It was rocky, technical, steep and rough; more english fell by feel than the typically well-formed trails of the Alps. I wanted to see it by daylight, but that would have to wait for another day. Up at Rifugio Coda (2,224m), which incidentally is the notional half way point of the course, they were having a great time into the late evening. The cosy refuge was packed with alpine enthusiasts, enjoying wine and beer, cheering me in like a hero. Possibly not a good place to sleep but loving the support all the same. I wanted to have the enthusiasm and energy to return more than just a grimacing smile, but they got it. I did my best to get across my appreciation. They filled my bottles and warmed my heart with their sincerity and words of support. I believed them when they said I could do it, and I genuinely wanted to do it for the TOR faithful like them. I left feeling galvanized, if not rejuvenated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Looking south and east from that ridgeline the Alps dramatically give way to the flat lands below and the clear night view of the glowing towns and villages across in the distance was amazing. What a sense of perspective as the trail turned back north towards the mass of Alps again. Onwards, and the usual complete sense of dis-orientation from running at night. My head made up theories about the occasional visible light in the distance, nothing at all logical, but worryingly believable for a long while. More rough ground, which I simply couldn’t negotiate with any kind of competence. This was by far and away the toughest spell of all and seemed to go on and on. Somewhere along there, a pop up/ unofficial aid station and a table laid out with home-made food and the best fruit tart I’ve ever tasted. Occasional short sections of vehicle track turned out to be a complete tease, giving way again to rough singletrack. There were various little passes and rises along this section and I felt I was starting to lose a sense of calmness mentally, so at Rifugio della Barma (2,040m) I decided to get my head down for a short while in one of their bunk rooms. Pack and shoes off, straight on to the mattress, lights out in a matter seconds – my first sleep in 170km and around 38 hours of constant running. What felt like moments later – 40 minutes - I was being woken again by the checkpoint staff. Oh boy what a feeling to have to drag yourself straight back out there; how much do you really want this? Shoes on, sort a few bits of kit, something to eat and drink, back out on the trail within five minutes. I was definitely not convinced of its success in providing a meaningful refresh but at least I had slept. Perhaps that was due the continuing rough ground, or maybe I was just utterly buggered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Thankfully a sense of normality returned on the descent from Col della Vecchia (2,184m) down to Niel – La Gruba (193km) as the dawn of day 3 arrived. Back on to some more runnable trails, and I did indeed get going again pretty well. Less looking over my shoulder waiting for the next technical trail master to catch me, more just cracking on with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Breakfast time in Niel I again struggled to find much appeal in the food on offer. Ham, cheese, bread and soup was my main staple and whilst it went down fine, it wasn’t the rocket fuel I needed. How I craved a big bowl of honey-soaked porridge or some fried potatoes. The main drive to just get on with it came from my head, and that certainly wasn’t lacking. Clear blue skies, there was another perfect day on the horizon – we really were being blessed with the weather – except for the dreaded heat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I climbed well up the lovely grassy slopes to Col Lasoney (2,364m) but I was starting to get constrained by a wheezy chest which was the lack of acclimatisation. As I climbed and the air got thinner it would gradually force my breathing into an incontrollable state until I was forced to stop and allow it to settle. It was the start of an issue which built for the rest of the race and ultimately cost me a lot of speed and time. On the descents there was no such issue as there was far less demand aerobically. The descent down the other side to Gressoney (205.9km) was my best section so far, inexplicably riding a high and able to descend like a demon. I made the most of it and charged down to the village and the life base in the sports centre. Wow, the highs and lows of ultra running.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Leg 5:Gressoney to Valtournenche (239km)</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Gressoney life base was a slick operation. One of the volunteers provided the perfect service to an un-supported delirious wreck. He fetched me food, drinks and re-filled my bottles. He gave me space to sort myself out but was always on hand for those basic tasks made so much harder by fatigue and sleep deprivation, like zipping up an overfilled drop bag. I could have hugged him, but feared doing so in case I cracked and started crying, so settled for a heartfelt thanks and handshake as I departed. Positivity filled my body on leaving Gressoney, I appreciated my surroundings and what I had achieved, as well as what lay ahead.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">There was more baking sunshine on the dusty climb up to the seemingly huge pass of Col Pinter (2,776m). It was now back to plain and simple valley hopping from one to the next, all eye watering and lung busting in their own right, but one at a time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On the final stretch up to the pass, step by step crawling my way up, I was again touched by kindness. A hand on the shoulder in passing from a young lady out walking, imparting her strength within nothing more than a word and a gesture. As I looked up to the pass I was convinced there was a modern Rifugio building perched up there on a rocky outcrop, bustling with supporters and I figured, a great spread of food and drink. I was now utterly parched, in one of those sticky mouthed states that pretty much any liquid would do. On approach I realised it was just a dream, in fact the next aid station was way down at the bottom of the next valley, so I had to really dig deep and push on. There was some really beautiful scenery on the other side; a lake, rushing streams and a great big smoothly rounded glacial bowl. I lapped up some water from the first stream I came across and continued the descent to Champoluc (221.8km).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The next valley hop took us up over Col di Nana (2,770m) via Rifugio Grand Tourmalin, trails which I was convinced I had run before. In fact that fiction remained for large parts of the remainder of the race. In my dreamy, semi-awake, state I was creating stories around the route I was treading. Even more strangely, I half knew it was happening, but it relented because I didn’t take any rest. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The sunset from Col di Nana was one of the finest I’ve ever seen. I looked back towards glowing snow capped peaks and took a moment to take it all in. As day 3 drew to a close and the daylight faded right on the pass, I was still moving well, and made the best of some nice smooth trails to descend relentlessly to the life base at Valtourneche (239km).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Leg 6: Valtourneche to Ollomont (290.3km)</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Arriving at the life base in Valtourneche, a few hours into another night on the trail, I sensed I was pretty vulnerable in allowing all the hard work go to waste. I was in around 12</span><sup style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">place, ridiculously tired, and my head was starting to play tricks. Really, the important thing at that time was to keep my head. I decided against sleeping at this checkpoint figuring it would be relatively noisy and that one of the mountain huts ahead would be a better option. That was a bad call. On the climb out to Rifugio Barmasse (2,175m), with the ascents becoming more and more time consuming to negotiate, I was weaving along the trail and on the hunt for sleeping spots anywhere I could find. Never a good sign! My body temperature was wondering a bit between hot and cold, so I really didn’t want to be sleeping on the trail, therefore set my sights on the next Rifugio. In the meantime, I was dreaming more and more, utterly convinced I had been on this trail before and that the trail markers were taking me the wrong way. I soon caught sight of a huge dam structure ahead which created yet more ridiculous narrative. There are dams all over the Alps, I have run past lots of them, but not this one. I booked in for a short spell of sleep at Barmasse. I vaguely recall it being 20minutes but I can’t be sure - I booked the usual wakeup call from the checkpoint volunteers. The bunk room was silent and comfortable, my body horizontal and resting, just for a while.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The profile for the next few sections seemed rolling and innocuous, but again the night running on rough ground was such a huge challenge in a dreamy state. It really felt like I was leaking time along these sections of the course. Looking back at the maps, relating it to what I actually ran on the ground, it feels completely different. The route that was bedded into my memory during that night had so much story around it. Despite the ‘power’ kip I was still feeling so ridiculously tired, and even along flat stretches of vehicle track – starting to weave along the trail again. It hadn’t been sufficient to appease the sleep demons, and I couldn’t think rationally enough to devise that genius plan of getting some more sleep to snap out of it. There were lots of long TOR-flagged stretches across fairly innocuous pastures but with not much of a trail, and even these were tough to keep running on. I passed a couple of dairy farms, the farmers hard at work milking in the early hours of the morning.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">A kilometre or two before Rifugio Lo Magia I succumbed and found an idyllic looking slab of rock next to the trail which I lay on and slept for ten minutes. Waking suddenly to the sound of my alarm, and starting to feel chilly, I continued down the trail like a pre-programmed zombie, soon arriving at Rifugio Lo Magia (2,007m). Here the beds were laid out behind the food table in the main room and I wasn’t interested in anything else other than lying on one. After another torturously short spell of sleep, perhaps 15 or 20 minutes – who knows – I dragged myself back out on to the trail.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Dawn of day 4 and it was a relief to be back on smooth mountain trails. I prayed that some normality would resume with the new day, in other words moving a bit faster. There was beautiful high-level section through Rifugio Cuney (2,656m) and Bivouwac Clermont (2,705m) before I eventually made the pass of Col Vessonaz (2,788m). This section was trully first class – so ridiculously beautiful – Yosemite in quality. The climbing was becoming increasingly problematic, my wheezy chest regularly stopping me in my tracks to regain control of my breathing and simply be able to suck enough oxygen in to hike up the trail. There was no sticky plaster for this one, it just had to be managed to get this thing done.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">It is hard to describe the emotional rollercoaster this race presents but it is equally hard to describe the head space I was in. I would say that will power was uncontrollably over-ridden, and actually the race was now testing my physical programming as a person. In that sense, experience was massive, and it reminded me a lot of some of the toughest days (and nights) of Te Araroa.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The descent was fine, I could shift well downhill, so it wasn’t all lost and enough to stop too much despondency. The valley checkpoint of Oyace (277.7km) was again baking as our run of luck with the weather continued. The climb out from Oyace was another deeply challenging affair with south facing slopes and persistent sunshine, coupled with swollen legs and ineffective lungs! So frustrating to feel constrained, with the engine inside still strong. The refreshments post at Bruson L’arpe was an absolute classic, a ram-shackle shed next to a ruined chalet with barely enough space for two people to take shelter from the sun, but plentiful supplies of cola which was all I was interested in. The final stretches of the climb to Col de Breuson (2,508m) felt like a slow-motion comedy - if people could see me now - and the checkpoint on the pass was equally comical. A perspex box helicoptered into position, perched perilously on the ledge of a steep slope. I declined the offer of a bunk for some sleep, it was merely 1,200m in descent to the last life base at Ollomont (290km).</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Leg 7: Ollomont to Cormayeur (340km*) *plus a bit more</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I’m not sure how I felt arriving at sixth and last life base and impending final leg of the TOR. I certainly appreciated a change in menu for the first time all race – baked ham and potatoes - yes. The day was starting to draw to a close already and I felt frustrated at the lack of distance achieved. There’s no question I had been leaking time for the last 24hours, and I was painfully slipping down the rankings – is this normal in such an undertaking and did it really matter? I had plenty of time to think about things like that and in all honesty all I really wanted was to finish it one piece with a respectable placing and be in a position to get a flight out from Milan on Friday lunchtime, to be home for Milo’s first birthday weekend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Morale was high on exiting Ollomont. The only-one-leg-to-go thing was definitely going on although I knew full well that the last fifty kilometres would involve going deeper still as well as the tribulations of another night in the mountains. It was a seemingly huge 1,300m climb up to Col Chapillon (2,709m), initially through the trees, then across pastures towards the pass. Just to make things a little more interesting, a burst of heavy rain had me rummaging for my waterproofs in the depths of my bag. I didn’t have a clue whether it was forecast or how long it would last, so I opted for the sensible option of getting togged up, avoiding getting cold.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Rifugio Champillon (2,433m) came just before the pass and was the most welcome stop of the whole race. The restaurant area was packed with alpine folk people enjoying a meal and drinks, and the family owners were on hand to support the runners. There was so much warmth in there; the home made vegetable soup was the best I’ve tasted and the care so genuine. I hugged the owner on departure. ‘Dai Jez, Dai Dai’ she said to me. Thankfully I knew the translation, and instead of wanting me put out of my misery, she was passionately telling me to ‘come on, come on’!</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Exiting the Rifugio the weather really started to get going, the rain getting heavier by the minute. Flashes of lightning lit up the jagged peaks around. The timing wasn’t great with a high pass to cross ahead, but it was all exposed, so the options were to continue or retreat, neither particularly safe. Obviously I carried on. As I made the pass and started to descend the rain got heavier and heavier, the lightning strikes closer.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I descended aggressively feeling the adrenaline charge through my body and override any discomfort. It really is amazing what the body can do when it really needs to get itself out of trouble. The trails were soon a muddy torrent and a completely different running technique was needed to stay upright. As the storm moved on and the adrenaline subsided, hallucinations started to return, and so begun another protracted night of moving through the mountains, desperately trying to close in on Courmayeur.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I had really hoped to be done in three days and feared my aggressive sleep strategy would start to catch up on me. There was another un-expected aid station in the bottom of the valley, located in the basement of a dairy. I had a conversation with one of the Italian checkpoint volunteers about his upcoming trip to the UK for the Spine Race. I was falling asleep in the chair as he told me – but it stuck, like a lot of my dreamy TOR adventures.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The next section was one big hallucination. It involved several kilometres along a wide benched track. I thought I was running through a junk yard, with scrap vehicles and other discarded items lining the trail either side. I then ended up off track for a spell, descended incorrectly into a village and again I was imagining junk everywhere. I had that same sense as before that this wasn’t the first time I had run these trails. Nope. Eventually I spotted some headlamps higher up on the hillside – I ran back up as quickly as I could, regained the height, and conferred with some other runners to spot the damaged markers and get back on track. I will never know whether it was my dream that took me off track, or the markers really were damaged.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I wasted more time down towards Saint-Rhemy (311.6km). Pretty much asleep on my feet, there was a cabin at the side of the road for some roadworks. I spoke out load to the foreman, telling him how I was going to rest in his cabin and get myself together. The cabin was locked, it was the middle of the night, there was no one else around. Bizarrely I can remember it all clearly, and I was also half aware it was happening at the time, but the impossible task was snapping out of it. Again passing runners rescued me from screwing up my race further, and I tagged on behind to get a tow towards the next checkpoint and the bed I desperately needed. My fourth night on the trail, I simply had to sleep properly, not just a 10 minute token gesture, a luxurious full hour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">From Saint-Rhemy it was less than 30km to the finish, but with the huge pass of Col Malatra (2,936m) standing in the way. The rest worked, although as I feared, I had leaked a lot of time from both being stationary and hallucinating. I exited around 4am and soon felt strong and rejuvenated. Hurrah.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Literally hauling myself up the ropes and scree of the final pass was such a big moment on the dawn of day five of this hulk of a race. On making the pass I instantly recognised the big wall of the Mont Blanc massif at the side of Val Ferret in the distance, a view I had enjoyed so many times before in training and racing UTMB. I was finally approaching closure on this indescribable epic.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_rKtcKcRh-9Wh4OM1l4o0XL1eEAPkcJZgZhREAvzJmVMGnmz-Eh3PCGeuyoxMR-owNZCXUi8JfZhRRbTL5G508LM6LMjZq6yDItkmhtdzRabwfJTfzl83oeQ7Hw_-JN0IMlm4WphRQI5/s1600/closing+in.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_rKtcKcRh-9Wh4OM1l4o0XL1eEAPkcJZgZhREAvzJmVMGnmz-Eh3PCGeuyoxMR-owNZCXUi8JfZhRRbTL5G508LM6LMjZq6yDItkmhtdzRabwfJTfzl83oeQ7Hw_-JN0IMlm4WphRQI5/s640/closing+in.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I was a new man on those final few sections to home. The proper sleep had clearly made a difference as well as the ever powerful smell of the barn door. By the time I got to Rifugio Bertone (335km), a place I have passed through so many times before, I was numb in every normal sense but glowing with pride. The wry smile returned as I descended past lines of day trippers who cheered me along. I had been dreading this part of the course for ages, it’s a steep and tricky descent down rock steps and tree roots, but ignoring the state of my legs it was magical. I honestly didn’t care what my positions was, nor the fact I had leaked time in the latter part of the race, I was going to be a TOR finisher. I had no friends or family at the finish line to hug and collapse on, this was a solo effort and enjoyably low key. I didn’t need anything else but to cross the famous TOR finishing ramp and to know I had banked an absolute epic. What a relief to have made it back to Courmayeur, and to now be able to stop running. Paul Tierney who had over taken me a couple of hours before the finish (a brilliantly strong finish by the way) was there with Lee Kemp, one of his support crew, enjoying a post-race beer. I really craved a beer and enjoyed chatting with the guys straight off the trail whilst it was all still so raw.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKc4rRmTKBqAe5Hy6kX6MlUpK8s3R9cP7_-D1djl_KihNbPY6Q9_TQDj1_6WbZsojTD-RgH9Sp6I7Hd51N-PWQUuf3T8QaEfLjTy5faHiWmdzkrECY8j33Ic6BMSy73odcaexmGG8C3vy/s1600/finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKc4rRmTKBqAe5Hy6kX6MlUpK8s3R9cP7_-D1djl_KihNbPY6Q9_TQDj1_6WbZsojTD-RgH9Sp6I7Hd51N-PWQUuf3T8QaEfLjTy5faHiWmdzkrECY8j33Ic6BMSy73odcaexmGG8C3vy/s640/finish.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I’ve done some stuff in my time, but this thing really does take it to a whole new level. This lengthy account has been as much about sharing the story as nudging myself to properly reflect on the experience and try to untangle a really quite complicated set of memories. Hopefully it doesn’t come across as overly </span><span style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px;">dramatised</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> or negative, or with too much focus on the difficulties which are inevitable in such an undertaking. For all the times of sore feet and painful quads there were far more powerful moments of sheer joy; being on a high pass at sunset or those memorable interactions with the passionate race volunteers.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">It goes without saying that such an experience creates a lot of emotion, concentrated by simply having so much time to think and reflect. It’s a really humbling experience as well as a quite a selfish one but hopefully recognising and doing something about the latter truth means it can be something that is occasionally part of my life without it having too much impact.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Running the course blind, through several nights and some deeply dreamy states, is quite unique as an experience and harder than usual to document. It was utterly brilliant as a test and an experience, but with what it requires to succeed, not one I need to go through again. I consider my run this year a success, but going again would involve setting the bar much higher to be a repeated success, and the implications would be unreasonable, particularly knowing the commitment involved. I know I could run the TOR both better and faster but there won’t be one and it’s deliberately written here to be categoric! I’m more than content with what the TOR has given me, I am banking it and moving on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">To the TOR and it’s volunteers, thank you, that was a truly amazing experience.</span></div>
</div>
<br />Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-58049969670627051702016-07-01T20:16:00.001+01:002016-07-01T20:16:23.346+01:00Lavaredo Ultra Trail, 24th June 2016 (119km, 5,850m +/-)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh383VQIdoxba_Lj5upxwVQPXwYGlXf5oLOOA10IwPcZULr32W0Cw9FS3eqdh__haWHit2cymmYXPwHXTITEi_vXI7Hh7oc1fOGo-DUYFA0AmNvQ7TkLtZR4_p23BnTZpWCEPjnKBdOiouJ/s1600/IMG_4403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh383VQIdoxba_Lj5upxwVQPXwYGlXf5oLOOA10IwPcZULr32W0Cw9FS3eqdh__haWHit2cymmYXPwHXTITEi_vXI7Hh7oc1fOGo-DUYFA0AmNvQ7TkLtZR4_p23BnTZpWCEPjnKBdOiouJ/s640/IMG_4403.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;">I'm not quite sure why it’s taken me 10 years to get round to
running the Lavaredo Ultra Trail (LUT) and I sure do regret that now. It’s a
belter of a race and for everyone who likes a challenging mountain ultra, it
should be high up on the list.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So over a period of just a few weeks I’ve totally fallen in
love with the Italian Dolomites, enjoying every moment of both my training for
the LUT and the race itself. It’s a fabulous playground for trail runners, with
vistas dominated by the jagged limestone summits and cliffs, criss-crossed with
well-maintained scenic trails, providing enough variety and technicality to
keep even the most hardcore runners entertained.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">LUT almost feels like a hidden secret because of it’s
relative modesty when compared to races like UTMB, and for many years it hasn’t
hit the radar for most elites, however since it’s inclusion in the core group
of Ultra Trail World Tour races a couple of years ago, that’s quickly changed. This
year’s field was arguably far deeper than Western States, enough said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I flew out to recce the route a couple of weeks before the
race, providing a nice opportunity for some crash training as well as getting
to know the route, something I find helpful with mental preparation, particularly
when lots of ascent is involved. Running the course over two days, it blew my
mind, and it was great to have the opportunity to properly take it all in, seeing
the whole course in the daylight which is something the 11pm race start time
doesn’t permit. With a roughly figure-of-eight course I ran one loop on each
day, conveniently splitting into 40/ 35 mile days respectively with a roughly
even split of the 5,850m total elevation gain. Despite some rainy and thundery
spells, it worked well, and logistics just about manageable within a big
weekend’s effort.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZTBiYM0TWNvU_IIwzadFIcufhOSSEW63JkWIYJJ_-82tBLeek9irH-kgff2CH3i0JU0ewtYac8xUjyk05-yheI5EMPvTLNTURROosn3JHag_RdNWtVDFbINM4Zn0P0xbt6aMto8FNbMZR/s1600/FullSizeRender+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZTBiYM0TWNvU_IIwzadFIcufhOSSEW63JkWIYJJ_-82tBLeek9irH-kgff2CH3i0JU0ewtYac8xUjyk05-yheI5EMPvTLNTURROosn3JHag_RdNWtVDFbINM4Zn0P0xbt6aMto8FNbMZR/s640/FullSizeRender+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LUT Training</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi50qVupdWehiVgnQYVfBEkDjogqaa_KxRQk6yNCTkOWjPXcynCKa9Yo82vzgyIjCpaglzm-MDL_SE7vL_URXL2zu1W0uhfJJTWzdzk6BL5CjtUQ01JTlNIRo0xs92GtFR0NCrgAbNuzdXD/s1600/FullSizeRender+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi50qVupdWehiVgnQYVfBEkDjogqaa_KxRQk6yNCTkOWjPXcynCKa9Yo82vzgyIjCpaglzm-MDL_SE7vL_URXL2zu1W0uhfJJTWzdzk6BL5CjtUQ01JTlNIRo0xs92GtFR0NCrgAbNuzdXD/s640/FullSizeRender+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LUT Training: descending from Col dei Bois</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGB5iBbpx9kQltmmryaERxzpY9C210q2kilZCryjG9fjXsI7iCD2hrcKqP7Cnz9vy5DNEGPt5ZujmSmI3Raf6ubof38qT7F1fdTvj9anZe979cevvFVAT_myf75BD_JltkAYeVRs_BLtk4/s1600/FullSizeRender+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGB5iBbpx9kQltmmryaERxzpY9C210q2kilZCryjG9fjXsI7iCD2hrcKqP7Cnz9vy5DNEGPt5ZujmSmI3Raf6ubof38qT7F1fdTvj9anZe979cevvFVAT_myf75BD_JltkAYeVRs_BLtk4/s640/FullSizeRender+4.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LUT Training: Forcella Ambrizzola, Cortina below</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4d2-BSHdHZnVkmg2ukOjCksFhYlVrZoK0qiv1pjlh1NdzM6eb_JqopXrt6RETPaQC6QhwyzR8d9TkqzLfwpz3Tr2qxOjZfEjD2cBoAFyXJ3yA_8tIWXddvIzqhGdx9UHvPnrbrX-Zh1UA/s1600/FullSizeRender+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4d2-BSHdHZnVkmg2ukOjCksFhYlVrZoK0qiv1pjlh1NdzM6eb_JqopXrt6RETPaQC6QhwyzR8d9TkqzLfwpz3Tr2qxOjZfEjD2cBoAFyXJ3yA_8tIWXddvIzqhGdx9UHvPnrbrX-Zh1UA/s640/FullSizeRender+5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LUT Training: top of first climb</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6yXKnFzN3RuuNsmMA0pvSeHbszhahq1P_S_zMCPIR3duMqPPUbVGcZAcmyLHiNkifvc91ApgR0LWwOJBeDceCiN2xwAG7wlSeH_Q0-lkwBljiEgsYbm8Hkpy3O4LYHUqZNIFwJR8cNug/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6yXKnFzN3RuuNsmMA0pvSeHbszhahq1P_S_zMCPIR3duMqPPUbVGcZAcmyLHiNkifvc91ApgR0LWwOJBeDceCiN2xwAG7wlSeH_Q0-lkwBljiEgsYbm8Hkpy3O4LYHUqZNIFwJR8cNug/s640/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LUT Training: Val Travenanzes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVRFw5o6VTZOx2lCFAKHdrWfQPEK03bygRRZrkftchz4rochIbhPGUYu7Yq6sSTYq1vnHpXZHVSlkwLBL-p0C7RTygNDdyD1IdqC5m8RKV0TFxUcDnp_RxWo3YVe_tNRnmJ1Z_E_d2e2l/s1600/IMG_4389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVRFw5o6VTZOx2lCFAKHdrWfQPEK03bygRRZrkftchz4rochIbhPGUYu7Yq6sSTYq1vnHpXZHVSlkwLBL-p0C7RTygNDdyD1IdqC5m8RKV0TFxUcDnp_RxWo3YVe_tNRnmJ1Z_E_d2e2l/s640/IMG_4389.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LUT Training: Val Della Rienza</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I seemed to be back in Cortina for the race in the blink of
an eye, standing on the start line alongside 1,300 fellow adventurers, doing
battle with my chimp about the sense oinwhat I was doing. 11pm on a Friday
night feels illogical in so many ways, particularly with a well timed
electrical storm passing overhead just an hour before the start, but perhaps
that’s what double espresso’s are for? Having abstained from caffeine for many
months, it was particularly effective to get the adrenaline going and keep
fatigue at bay.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtdEWRyEQy9F4uTTBxTbKbpcrDoGHHyCQc4A66cIHR3QR7LZYUlVXQCxItlotX9a7PnTqogDE0E3duI4ZJpmS4IakDh_YWctkv4SPhv7CoakLHyvVGY9kdYxlAtHwuoBaSeCI5RjynVdM/s1600/IMG_4466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtdEWRyEQy9F4uTTBxTbKbpcrDoGHHyCQc4A66cIHR3QR7LZYUlVXQCxItlotX9a7PnTqogDE0E3duI4ZJpmS4IakDh_YWctkv4SPhv7CoakLHyvVGY9kdYxlAtHwuoBaSeCI5RjynVdM/s640/IMG_4466.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The day before the race, hanging out near Rifugio Auronzo with Gem.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4gr8xOuMRgst7H-TrRh1ME1ByEQkVRw9de4hmKr81pA7bkIJQ2sTcNjyqCmFd5tWkcHbX1CCifblz6Hv9I_y3s74HDEdBwnCGbo_xJjwAWtHytDQmbawVFw9Fu4ewhG4RlnNyYzqW5ek/s1600/IMG_4503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4gr8xOuMRgst7H-TrRh1ME1ByEQkVRw9de4hmKr81pA7bkIJQ2sTcNjyqCmFd5tWkcHbX1CCifblz6Hv9I_y3s74HDEdBwnCGbo_xJjwAWtHytDQmbawVFw9Fu4ewhG4RlnNyYzqW5ek/s640/IMG_4503.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre race with the lovely Lizzy Hawker</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;">Pre-race I hadn’t felt quite as level headed as I usually do,
with a particularly busy spell of work and other commitments creating stress
and tiredness. I spent a week with a mouth full of ulcers, and frankly just
waiting for a cold to break out, but I rode my luck, and thankfully it never
prevailed. Just before we left for Cortina on the Wednesday I was ready to call
it off, feeling far from ideal, and worried that a poor performance would dent
my confidence when the really important outcome of the race was to get a strong
performance in the bag. It felt like a fairly pivotal race on my ‘bounce’ from
a troublesome 2015, so I didn’t want to get it wrong. But sometimes going in to
a race feeling a little blasé and a less than perfect build up can actually
ease the pressure. Whatever. Have a go and take it as it comes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;">After the usual hussle and bussle of the start and first
mile or two of road leading out of town, it was nice to soon gain some space,
and join the snaking line of head torches up the first climb on the course, soon
thinning out as is always the case. Before long the stress and anxiety I
carried into the race had dispersed, and I was free to do my thing. The storm
had passed through, but the humidity was high and a cloudy haziness hung in the
air. This coupled with regular flashes of lightening far away in the distance
created a sense of drama which I really liked. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There was a sizeable group leading out which I tucked in the
back of, content to settle in and find my legs for later. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Running at night creates a lovely sense of
freedom and solitude, despite being one of hundreds doing the same thing. I
just really appreciated being there, running in my little bubble of head torch
light and having the opportunity to take part and to savour the experience.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I ran some early spells with team mate Rory Bosio, including
the descent to Federavecchia at 33km, where we arrived some way down the field
(57</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">) to a raucous reception from The North Face team. What a great
bunch supporting the team athletes all through the night. I was enjoying it,
and met with Gem for the first time for a quick replen of liquid. I wolfed down
a couple of pots of custard, and cracked on.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was from there that I started to get going, building some
momentum, which I intended maintaining all through the race. Momentum was about
picking off places, steadily working my way up the field. After the excitement
of the start and early spells, I knew the last few hours before dawn would
mentally be the hardest - still significantly before half way, still dark and
with mental tiredness at it’s worst. But despite this my head was in a great
place, just savouring the experience, remaining positive.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Each little head torch light on the trail ahead was a
target, and gave me a mini lift, particularly on the stiff climb up to Rifugio
Auronzo (48.5km), now up to 50</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> place. After a murky and humid
night, the first signs of dawn were on their way towards the top of the climb,
and being up high next to Tre Cime di Lavaredo felt very fitting. Over the pass
near Rifugio Lavaredo, not only was it a new day with the head torch switched off,
but it was a clear day, like a different world with visibility and clear skies.
Dawn always seems to bring freshness and strength, but this was better still,
and I then enjoyed the big 1,000m+ descent down Val Della Rienza back towards
civilisation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8G5_Xv_KAXsRxRPwOZ31fqvqix3e1KXEo7ARnVRYENHMyV5pkpdr7zciUwCBLwTEk2R4pTAm46Ul016EKqrLY-AUMDnses89SABkhFQya-ZCAJFV98rP7v2SPOHxHkx126y8XGIP_bFG/s1600/IMG_4525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8G5_Xv_KAXsRxRPwOZ31fqvqix3e1KXEo7ARnVRYENHMyV5pkpdr7zciUwCBLwTEk2R4pTAm46Ul016EKqrLY-AUMDnses89SABkhFQya-ZCAJFV98rP7v2SPOHxHkx126y8XGIP_bFG/s640/IMG_4525.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching Cimabanche</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Cimabanche (66.1km) was my next opportunity to meet Gem. I
had claimed a further 6 places and was now in 44</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. It was possibly
the part of the race when I felt at my weakest, having the run the previous
long leg with little by way of sustenance. My stomach had been somewhat
unsettled, but I was determined not to let that get me down, and hoped it would
pass. After nailing a load of fruit I felt a lot better, and psychologically
felt rejuvenated by the feeling that it was a new day and I was making strong
progress all round.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The most enjoyable section of trail was now ahead, in
particular the spectacular Val Trevanzes. The path is benched into the lower
left bank of this dramatic valley, working it’s way up to the pass across scree
slopes, under dramatic overhanging cliffs and regularly crossing the clear
mountain streams. It felt like a bit of a slog physically, but the beautiful surrounding
fuelled my legs. I knew I was still moving well in relation to others, merely
by the fact I was regularly overtaking. At Forcella Col due Bos (2,331m) I gave
in to the nagging discomfort from stones in my shoe, momentarily perching on a
rock to empty them out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then a fast descent to Col Gallina (95km), starting to feel
like I’d broken the back of it now, but also a tad weary. I hadn’t got a clue what
position I was in (actually now 36</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">), despite being rather keen to
know, but the information wasn’t available, so just keep your head down and
don’t fret about it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7nOOhmKn_noj_sK1RoASr3o7Re1SnLmCFBRmloPwGteIy3hcAYUoowwxYfAt8YDnR-ps5-RAzwZo2q3ualxDJFFd_wtkV8n0YvXngK7O7vdCLVEZRvSPY843L4ci_CUH1Trgtpv71g_U/s1600/IMG_4500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7nOOhmKn_noj_sK1RoASr3o7Re1SnLmCFBRmloPwGteIy3hcAYUoowwxYfAt8YDnR-ps5-RAzwZo2q3ualxDJFFd_wtkV8n0YvXngK7O7vdCLVEZRvSPY843L4ci_CUH1Trgtpv71g_U/s640/IMG_4500.JPG" width="586" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving Col Gallina</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I felt buoyed from seeing Gem and the team again, loads of
positivity around, and ready to get this thing finished. The climbing was
really starting to get tough, now well over 4,000m in the legs, and the
temperature was also climbing quickly. The next climb was steep albeit the
final big one, a real-hands-on-knees grind to the top, eventually reaching Rifugio
Averau (2,413m) where an adhoc water station was setup. “Grazie mille” – so
grateful to one and all of the volunteers dotted around the course, always
smiling and positive in their words – particularly as this one was completely
unexpected, and well needed in the heat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The final part of the course stays high until a big long
descent into the Cortina. The views remained first class, with rocky drama all
round and some lovely sections of singletrack. Lots of great spots for a picnic
I thought, but perhaps now’s not the time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">By the final support point at Passo Giau (103km) I had
caught a bunch more guys, so arrived once again feeling buoyed and positive,
now in 27</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> place. There wasn’t much point lingering because aside
from a couple of shorter climbs, it was about beasting it down the final
descent to the finish. There comes a point when looking after yourself (as is the priority in ultra running) just
goes out the window, knowing that the scent of the finish line will carry you
through, come what may. Get it done.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Reaching the final pass at Forcella Ambrizzola (2,277m) was
a satisfying moment and I let out a vocal sigh of relief. How hard can 11km of
descent really be? Well rather ugly to be honest, particularly my form, but no
marks for that fortunately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There was a great welcome from the afternoon crowds back in
Cortina after over 14 hours of effort, and I felt genuinely pleased with my
finishing place of 22<sup>nd</sup>. It wasn’t as fast as I’m capable of, but
there were other priorities for this one. Most importantly I loved every minute
of the experience and had re-found some of the strength reserves which have
served me so well over the years. Knowing it’s still there is all I needed to
know, and hopefully with a bit more training and consistency, I can tap in for
a bit more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;">Thanks must go to my amazingly supportive wife Gem who did a perfect
job with the support, as well as all The North Face folk who were so
enthusiastic throughout.</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-3836347273611659022016-05-20T17:18:00.012+01:002016-05-20T17:18:14.728+01:00Back on the wagon<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So it’s been nearly
3 weeks since the Fling and definitely about time for an update. Gem and I had a great
week in the north-eastern Cairngorms immediately after the race, initially just
learning to walk again, but then actually getting some pretty darn good walking
days in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Located near
Tomintoul, a relatively quiet and tucked away side of the Cairngorms, we walked
some local hills, explored Strath Avon up into the Cairngorms, plus a big finale of
the ‘Lochaber horseshoe’ once the wind had suitably abated. I hadn't been up four of the five munros on the route, so it was a productive day, and a lot of fun traversing the extensive snow patches which still remained after the late season flurry. Over the course of the week the weather was cool, breezy but generally dry, so ideal for getting out and about to blow of the cobwebs after the Fling. The
area has an abundance and variety of wildlife that I haven't seen matched elsewhere in Scotland – I think we pretty much managed the
full array of what can be found up there – golden eagle, arctic hare, ptarmigan, owls, red squirrel etc etc. Okay, so you’ve got me on the wild cats and
pine martins. Next time...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The running didn’t
re-start until we were back, so it’s been the usual process of coaching the
legs back to life. The change for me at this stage in the season is to crank up the
endurance and elevation ready for the longer races coming up in the Alps –
firstly Lavaredo Ultra Trail (119km, 5,800m +/-) towards the end of June and then UTMB. Heck, the summer is nearly here, not much time to dwell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The first of the longer days was a look at the ‘Brecon Beacons Traverse’ last Saturday – a route in south Wales
taking in 31 of the 2,000ft+ summits across the Carmarthen Fan, Fforest (yes 2x
Ff’s) Fawr, Brecon Beacons and Black Mountains going west to east. The area is classic welsh rough
stuff and there are lots of fairly direct lines required to link the groups
of hills; the bits most folk don’t do, so are relatively un-trodden & pathless. But also some nice fast high level
sections which on a sunny spring day were a joy to run.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I ran with BAC club
mate Toby Chapman who was trying a long day out for the first time, and I
couldn’t fault the enthusiasm for getting stuck in and joining me :o) His longest run prior to this was 4 hours - we were running for over 8!</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I felt a bit weary early on, but soon started
to settle in, inevitably for Toby it was the opposite, but we nailed 40miles
(first 60%) of the route which was the plan from the outset. We were both about done by the end, although still fool-hardy enough to want to round up to 40 when we arrived back at the car with 39.8 miles on the clock. That's a bit of the BAC OCD for you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So I just need to check
out The Black Mountains bit now, which will be a good day out in itself, then I might be in a position to have a go at
the whole thing. I’ve got some crew recruiting to do :o)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Might prove a nice
little summer project, or maybe another year, we shall see.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here's a selection of photo's from the Brecon Beacons last Saturday:</span></div>
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Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-66525897491482163212016-05-03T21:48:00.001+01:002016-05-03T21:48:48.047+01:00Hoka Highland Fling Race<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Despite feeling
disappointed with my time and finishing place in Saturday’s Highland Fling
race, I couldn’t help but come away with a smile. It’s nothing less than
remarkable how this race has developed since it was first conceived 10 years
ago. I was one of the 18 runners who took part that inaugural year – it was not
much more than a supported training run for the West Highland Way Race - and to
see how it’s evolved into such a genuinely brilliant event is impressive to say
the least. There are now nearly 1,000 participants taking part across both the
ultra and relay events (and it could easily fill 2 or 3 times over), but it’s
the spirit and organisation of the race which really impresses, certainly
surpassing anything else I’ve experienced in the UK. Basically it’s just a
whole lot of fun – everyone is out enjoying themselves from the checkpoint
volunteers, to the musicians en route, the photographers, spectators and of
course the runners. It’s great example of the spirit that our sport carries; nobody
taking themselves too seriously, bucket loads of Scottish hospitality and warmth,
and free beer at the end. Brilliant.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So to the
racing - well I guess I was a bit rusty! Rustiness hadn’t been something I was
particularly worried about pre-race, but on reflection, perhaps the lack of
competitive / fast ultra racing in the last 18 months was a bit of an issue. The
Fling was hosting the UK trail championships and qualifier for the GB Trail Team
this year so I wanted to perform, but so too did lots of other top guys who were
all there with exactly the same intentions. 6</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> place and a time of
7:38 was some way off my best on the Fling course and not exactly what I had in
mind, so somewhat disappointing on the face of it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But I guess
there is some context which I need to factor in, which a little reflective time
has allowed me to discover. The second half of 2015 was probably the lowest
spell I’ve had to contend in the 12 years I’ve been running ultras - trying to
find my way through a blurred picture of illness which started with a(nother)
gastro bug which forced my withdrawal from the Dragon’s Back Race and then then
seemed to kick start issues with my UC and possibly other things too. Anyway, I
remembered after the race on Saturday evening that I could barely run at all in
December simply due to physical weakness, and essentially I had a standing
start trying to re-build fitness from the start of this year. Save for a chest
infection, my spell of training this year has been pretty solid and I’ve worked
hard at it, but always within the confines of having an awkward illness, the
commitment of running my own business and not having much of a base to build
from. I expect a lot from myself, I always have, so the aim for the race was
the same as it always has been; running for a podium slot. But in the context
of all of the above, perhaps I shouldn’t be too hard on myself…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My race
plan was to run relatively conservatively for the first half at least and then
try to build from there. I fully expected a vicious pace from a lead group
right from the off and that’s exactly what happened, with Donnie Campbell, Joe
Symonds, Robbie Britton and Kim Collison pushing hard right from the gun. Unfortunately
I suffered with stomach issues from early on, taking the 1</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">st</sup><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> of 10
or so visits to the bushes within the first few miles, so it was tricky to hang
with any sort of a group, and far from ideal in terms of maintaining strength!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujBrq8pnS64wOAJmjnQwcnN0hlbio5axVKcHDv6r97YVPjU23NEh2VImMpeV2de9tPyf_zETHrWEMz4ae98a_NDgBH8f954NqQ5_T3L820CjTuuAsD3hteaR2nOUAMxheOtSqTtRTnUz8/s1600/13063015_10154076648834870_4912258251921546781_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujBrq8pnS64wOAJmjnQwcnN0hlbio5axVKcHDv6r97YVPjU23NEh2VImMpeV2de9tPyf_zETHrWEMz4ae98a_NDgBH8f954NqQ5_T3L820CjTuuAsD3hteaR2nOUAMxheOtSqTtRTnUz8/s640/13063015_10154076648834870_4912258251921546781_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching Balmaha, 40 wish miles in. Photo credit: Thomas Loehndorf.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Once I
pulled away from Jayson Cavill who was having a tough time of it just after
Conic Hill, essentially it became a solo run for the remaining 30miles. I spent
plenty of time pondering how it may be unfolding upfront, and to be honest I
fully expected guys to fall by the wayside which impressively, never really
prevailed. There was certainly some mixing up of places as Donnie pulled away
from the lead group for a strong final 13 miles to break the course record, and
Damien Hall ran a blinding second half from Rowardennan (where he was only
minutes ahead of me) to also finish sub-7 hours and nab second place. That was
the race I wanted to run, and felt in a place to do so up until about 30 miles
when the gas ran out. I didn’t have a great time of it with my UC/ stomach on
the day, which certainly didn’t help energy levels, but I suspect race
sharpness was the biggest factor of all.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5n0O6vr8_R5c8Hn8orbUguc_uLuD-tTZCFiSQzGv3PIKCYZ9B5GJbXw87Ikka0GTEvf2PR-w-4pp844EVjM6R3kk-yZnVr5DTnfB47N1MFBHnUi-ZtFnYGaoD_tLh4EQ1YLz4OxLG8wDI/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5n0O6vr8_R5c8Hn8orbUguc_uLuD-tTZCFiSQzGv3PIKCYZ9B5GJbXw87Ikka0GTEvf2PR-w-4pp844EVjM6R3kk-yZnVr5DTnfB47N1MFBHnUi-ZtFnYGaoD_tLh4EQ1YLz4OxLG8wDI/s640/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red carpet, finish line :o)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That said,
the running was really quite special. A clear and frosty start soon warmed from
the sunshine, and we enjoyed sunny intervals and just the odd shower on our
journey north from Milngavie (Glasgow). The views up Loch Lomond from Conic
hill were superb, and the variety of the Loch-side trails and scenery equally
so. You forgot what a classic bit of trail this is, and why it’s so popular
with the multi-day trekkers. For the runners, lots of fast undulating trail to
attack along with some interesting technical sections before and after
Inversnaid Hotel. And some good little climbs and descents in the final 13 mile
section from Balmaha to the finish also helping to mix things up when the legs
are smashed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At the
finish the atmosphere really gets going with free beer, food and a unique
festival atmosphere as finishers enjoy their moment on the famous red carpet to
cross the line. There were loads of inspiring stories from the folk I spoke to,
many telling me how they had run a previous edition of the Fling as their first
ultra, and so providing an important gateway to the sport. It’s all set up
perfectly for that, and long may it last as such a brilliantly organised event.
It’s nothing less than heroic what Race Director ‘Johnny Fling’ has achieved, and
all on a not-for-profit basis. Awesome.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So all in
all a mixed bag for me from the Fling, but plenty to build on for the year
ahead, and definitely no danger of peaking too early :o)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Next up
will be the Lavaredo Ultra Trail in late June.</span></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-65364690510856042572016-04-14T16:12:00.000+01:002016-04-14T16:12:06.490+01:00The week in running (to 10 April '16)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Fourth and final peak week done – survived – and still intact. Just about. The tiredness is definitely building a bit, but with cut back and taper time in
sight, it’s mentally much easier to have a final push. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was the last of the
BAC marathon sessions on Wednesday night – a mere 80 minutes of efforts to go
at! The weather (well, wind) is always a pretty key factor for our out and back
efforts on the Bournemouth prom, so it was pretty unfortunate that we had a
25mph westerly to run straight into for 50% of the time. Character building for
sure, but also very rewarding when it comes to getting it done, and perhaps
even more beneficial. Resistance running?! My legs were still a little weary
from Taunton, but all things considered I was pleased to be running, on average,
at what would be my marathon pace. Well if I ever actually got round to doing
one properly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My other key runs were then at the weekend, loading up as
usual, with a 31miler around the north Dorset hills on Saturday morning and
then 13miles at a brisk ish pace on Sunday morning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The north Dorset countryside was as lovely as usual, if a little muddy in places. After rain overnight there was a beautiful sun rise, and nice warm sunshine for the first half. Then I got nailed in a hail storm, but with the westerly wind then behind me, and a warm car on the horizon, it wasn't so bad.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sunday was a mega fatigue
moment, but all about trying to force the legs back into life with some brisker road
running after a fairly big run on the trails.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As always, my focus has just been on staying healthy,
getting something close to the right amount of sleep, and not working too much.
Life, hey. Next weekend’s London Marathon should provide a welcome distraction
during my taper, watching all my BAC club mates smash it out on the streets of
the big smoke. It's been fun training alongside them for much of the year, but then we peel off in different directions at this point. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The spring is a great time of year for running for so many
different reasons, but the London-vibe always ups the interest amongst the
public even more, so it’s going to be a great few weeks. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-75805494544849800682016-04-07T14:50:00.000+01:002016-04-07T14:53:03.181+01:00The week in running (to 03 April '16)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As usual the week started
with a lingering sense of fatigue after a big weekend, but ended on a real high
with a strong run at the Taunton Marathon on Sunday – more on that later. Even
after 12 years training for and running ultras, I’m still amazed by the body’s
ability to recover - to feel exhausted one day, and surprisingly sprightly
the next. Even if it doesn’t always happen, clutching on to that thought is often enough to get yourself out the door, which isn't a bad thing. Due to work commitments I do have to
‘cram’ a little at the weekends, and the earlier part of the week tends to be
more about recovery than anything else, with the week mentally kicking off
properly on Wednesday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At the start of the week I
was struggling to get my head round the idea of another big marathon session on
Wednesday night, let along a marathon race effort on Sunday. Eeeekk. The first
effort on Wednesday wasn’t anything special, but I got stronger as the session
went on, and felt the best I have done for quite some time towards the end. Nice.
Maybe all this training malarkey is starting to pay off. We did a total of 71
minutes of efforts in decreasing durations from 24 minutes, and rather enjoyed
it, particularly with the better light after the clocks change, and not too
much wind – certainly a novelty for the Wednesday night gang….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I decided to slot in a
parkrun ‘sandwich’ session on Saturday morning, running down to Blandford
parkrun from home, a hard 5km park run effort, and then a run home again
(15miles total). 17:33 wasn’t too bad given it’s not the quickest of courses
and my legs felt heavy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The big finale for the week
was then the Taunton Marathon on Sunday which I was targeting as a long tempo effort as
part of my build up to the Fling. My aim was to run 6.30m/m pace to hit about
2hrs 50mins, but ended up averaging 6.19m/m pace to finish in 2hrs 46mins, 30
seconds behind BAC team mate Toby Chapman. We ran side by side for 25miles before
he showed his youth and pushed on at the end to take a deserved win in his home
town – a really strong performance which bodes well for a quicker PB attempt at
the London Marathon in a couple of weeks time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Most importantly, it felt
like a controlled effort, and I wasn’t completely destroyed at the end, so it
did feel like a positive milestone in my training. So one last marathon
training session on Wednesday and a long run at the weekend to complete,
probably as part of a 100ish mile week like the last few, then I’ll start to
think about gradually winding down towards race day. On we march.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-85872202154318274242016-03-30T14:55:00.000+01:002016-03-30T15:43:46.692+01:00The week in running (to 27 Mar '16)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpdyaoXPqOmI_qs9JaXVe1mXmYsiY7Bd1Lrti54iDwZrX7ogi0G7IpnePNWHzE_eMUfmgaC-nJM4NgDnVPNKaYzwoi5HH4Pn5RgIID58xCKUMdRyK6tmZD7MlTsra2zm_LGOAWcLO7B9u/s1600/2016-03-25+15.07.42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpdyaoXPqOmI_qs9JaXVe1mXmYsiY7Bd1Lrti54iDwZrX7ogi0G7IpnePNWHzE_eMUfmgaC-nJM4NgDnVPNKaYzwoi5HH4Pn5RgIID58xCKUMdRyK6tmZD7MlTsra2zm_LGOAWcLO7B9u/s400/2016-03-25+15.07.42.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The highlight of last week had to be a long day out with Mr
Giles on the Brecon Beacons on Good Friday. It's been a while since we've done a hill blitz - we used to make regular trips to the Shropshire Hills and Snowdonia as former fellow midland-ers. We picked the date fairly randomly
a good couple of months ago, and for once the weather gods were more than kind,
providing a beautifully clear and sunny spring day – the best of the year so far. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We ran
one of the ‘<a href="http://www.mightcontainnuts.com/events/" target="_blank">Might Contain Nuts</a>’ race routes (just to give us a bit of structure on a well planned route) heading out from Talybont-on-Usk over Tor
r Foel, Graig Fan Ddu, Bwlch Duwynt, Fan Frynych, Corn Du, Pen y Fan,
Cribyn, Fan y Big, Craig Cwareli and Craig y Fan before returning to Talybont.
On paper there were some rather tortuous loops involving a full descent off the
hill, before heading back up again – but on the ground it made more sense and
was all rather pleasant. The visibility was excellent throughout providing
lovely views and the opportunity to get to know an area that I’ve spent relatively
little time exploring, despite being the closest set of decent hills to where I
live. I came away vowing to make regular trips over the summer when I’m
specifically preparing for some mountain races.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i7rEOnHmSBtMGmBTZ4_eY3k2cfCT3tYaJqzmPf492_qIpulYwmWXLBabJ7PlX3qpKKOPqNrdGGeXmubbeVhG1FI3plWYj7DrJOrEv1O7_QB1xLQE3Q-dAQ2-UBcS11ShzEHZu3EIEip-/s1600/2016-03-25+15.02.00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i7rEOnHmSBtMGmBTZ4_eY3k2cfCT3tYaJqzmPf492_qIpulYwmWXLBabJ7PlX3qpKKOPqNrdGGeXmubbeVhG1FI3plWYj7DrJOrEv1O7_QB1xLQE3Q-dAQ2-UBcS11ShzEHZu3EIEip-/s640/2016-03-25+15.02.00.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A token snow patch.</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSrCzry453VCXHSQKr2eAlK7zuavaIfD4F6FiF-Kdo5LzGfxXIOfxExnsRqkrPPoHN_u5lIHpZJjxqT8hAK_SR6OlsU0VHUYBYgCdXdpYHatjj0NSBkxMlYmE_KoVTYeYFsXsqdJyDdLd/s1600/2016-03-25+17.11.38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSrCzry453VCXHSQKr2eAlK7zuavaIfD4F6FiF-Kdo5LzGfxXIOfxExnsRqkrPPoHN_u5lIHpZJjxqT8hAK_SR6OlsU0VHUYBYgCdXdpYHatjj0NSBkxMlYmE_KoVTYeYFsXsqdJyDdLd/s640/2016-03-25+17.11.38.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting propped up on the last summit.</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gilsey descending towards Talybont Reservoir</td></tr>
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<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We weren’t out to break any records, just get some good hills
into the legs which the 3,000m of ascent/ descent over 40 miles ably did. It’s a tricky
balance mixing marathon speedwork with hill strength, both seeming to pull in
opposite directions, but hopefully it will have the desired effect when it comes
to overall race fitness for the end of April.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Earlier in the week I had a solid marathon session on
Wednesday night, finding a bit of speed despite lingering tiredness from the
New Forest 50km race effort on Saturday. The session was 25min, 5 x 4min, 25min
– as vicious as it sounds! It was all good apart from the last 10mins when my
legs were, errr, battered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And the week was nicely capped off with a 23mile run with
Gem on Sunday morning as part of her marathon training. I was on pacing duty,
aiming for 7.45m/m pace on average, but we ended up with 7.29m/m which she was
more than pleased with. It wasn’t the flattest of routes, and we were nailed by
a monster driving hail storm towards the end, so not bad all things considered.
I probably wouldn’t have run quite so far on my own, and she wouldn’t have run
quite so briskly on her own, so mutually beneficial. Nice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So another 100mile week in the bag, and another decent step
forwards with fitness working towards the Fling. More of the same please.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-60877229750332260872016-03-23T16:38:00.000+00:002016-03-23T16:40:18.945+00:00The week in running (to 20 Mar '16)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A solid training week – it is nice to be reporting that
:o) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So despite some lingering sinusitis in the early part of the
week, I managed to train through without it flaring up again (maybe the
antibiotics are working), and it feels like I’ve just about got away with it.
Monday to Wednesday involved long days away working in the Midlands and London,
but I still managed to get my runs in, and was back in Bournemouth in time
(just) to jump on the back of the Bournemouth AC train banging out a marathon
session on the prom. It was horrible, I’m not going to lie, with a stiff
easterly wind to contend with one way, but I got the session done, albeit not
quite as quickly as planned.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I then trained through and toed the line at the New Forest
50km on Saturday morning, a 3 loop trail race around some lovely rolling gravel
tracks. This was my substitute for the Hobble which I had to bail on the week
before, and I admit to feeling rather blasé and not really up for it on
Saturday morning after Thursday and Friday nights out (must be getting old,
can’t handle it anymore), but again the machine took over, and I turned out a
really pleasing run.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQeKLCC2Y1SunTPlILpWRnXho9ReokEVVeAsnhrfn1QVr_UnmSot3ZaoLu5MiZ62O_qJkTfWHi4EYGLHfyzJmd7tYkFDiFtslENq5hTLn6E9AKNfamZMw4UN13205VJTgvdP-a4uGQ2UV/s1600/IMG_3677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQeKLCC2Y1SunTPlILpWRnXho9ReokEVVeAsnhrfn1QVr_UnmSot3ZaoLu5MiZ62O_qJkTfWHi4EYGLHfyzJmd7tYkFDiFtslENq5hTLn6E9AKNfamZMw4UN13205VJTgvdP-a4uGQ2UV/s400/IMG_3677.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start of The New Forest 50km (am I asleep?)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvrinTW-3fwLg-kucUAD75nMwSNuOLKaLRatysOFa8Yo22U1vLXz-2FcgsiH0JjO3skl593766WC8AtGIXsQ8kS5PuqxtJUKM6si2CIyEtf3MNxNXgH2ab_ajr2hMRe2G1Nq5n2Xh-pqo/s1600/IMG_3671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvrinTW-3fwLg-kucUAD75nMwSNuOLKaLRatysOFa8Yo22U1vLXz-2FcgsiH0JjO3skl593766WC8AtGIXsQ8kS5PuqxtJUKM6si2CIyEtf3MNxNXgH2ab_ajr2hMRe2G1Nq5n2Xh-pqo/s400/IMG_3671.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I knew a win wouldn’t be realistic given some still
competition from Southampton speedster Matthew Bennett (who’s currently in the
midst of Comrades training), but my aim was to average sub 7 min/ mile pace,
and get round in one piece. The first lap felt a little laboured, and the cold
easterly certainly didn’t help the sinuses, but I seemed to feel my way into
the race and ran the last lap really strongly, bringing the average pace down
from 7.04m/m end of lap 2, to 6.57m/m at the finish. I finished second
according to the results, but 3</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">rd</sup><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> according to my counting, in 3hr
40mins (measured at 31.5miles). Happy days.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So it made for a pleasing 100 mile week, my first in the
best part of a year, and some reasonable quality in there too. Hopefully I can
maintain that sort of mileage for a couple of weeks, before my taper for the
Fling starts in about 3 weeks time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kudos must also go to BAC team mate <a href="http://www.steveway.co.uk/?p=1668" target="_blank">Steve Way</a> who ran 3.55
for 40 miles at the Barry 40 on Sunday, and in doing so achieved a world best
(for an old boy) at the distance. Nicely done mate!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-76556991619101254082016-03-17T13:55:00.001+00:002016-03-17T14:18:56.597+00:00Two weeks in running (to 13 Mar '16)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wrote this blog post over a week ago but it got stuck on
my laptop which went into melt down and had to go in for repair :o(</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So it’s a 2+ week summary instead. Essentially the bumpy
journey continues but overall heading in the right direction. My cold returned with a vengeance about 2 weeks ago and then
rather annoyingly developed into sinusitis with some horrible headaches,
particularly during the middle part of the day. So my planned mini taper for
the Haworth Hobble last weekend turned into 5 days completely off running, and
cancellation of my race plans.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Booo….
Somewhat frustrating, but definitely the right decision when looking at the
bigger picture. The mega drive up north probably wouldn’t have been too much
fun anyway.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I managed to get some reasonable runs in over the weekend
instead, and have been back to something close to full training this week. The
plan is to run the New Forest 50km this weekend instead and, although I’m far
from 100%, at this moment in time it feels like a goer, and that it would be a
positive training race to run. I’m going to be annoyed if I can’t run after
paying a rather extortionate entry fee! I did think about running the Barry 40
track race for all of about 10 seconds – Mr Way sowed the seed – but not sure I
could face the 160 laps.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had an enjoyable run out at the Wimborne 20 a couple of
weekends ago, just using it as a long progressive training run, and feeling
very comfortable until the last 5 when the hills and my cold meant a levelling
out of splits as opposed to getting quicker.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The Fling isn’t a million miles away now so I’m just keen to
keep on the straight and narrow of health and fitness. The consistency hasn’t
been too bad, I’ve managed 6 out of 7 of the BAC Wednesday night marathon
sessions, plus lots of brisk longish runs, and some 5km efforts too.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Not over cooking it early in the year remains
my mantra, hence a little a bit of caution here and there. Not a usual trait of
ultra runners!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzl40lSSsExCueVEa6fFwAGagv2QGQ_KF3u3acgusGAsk33g7Dy8eaAh6Y0z3NrQ1IF18lHoz8pE9hg9KLpNjC8rLoVyrfGYptp5LAMZN4YLIM17exGjJGo_Wh33zkdzi7CdvV44QFrdRj/s1600/bac+rabble.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzl40lSSsExCueVEa6fFwAGagv2QGQ_KF3u3acgusGAsk33g7Dy8eaAh6Y0z3NrQ1IF18lHoz8pE9hg9KLpNjC8rLoVyrfGYptp5LAMZN4YLIM17exGjJGo_Wh33zkdzi7CdvV44QFrdRj/s400/bac+rabble.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The BAC rabble at the Wimborne 20</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-68390063744368662552016-03-02T16:29:00.001+00:002016-03-02T16:29:14.000+00:00BBC Three<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some mainstream </span><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/bbcthree/item/98d93d0f-c123-4252-bc3a-4ff6fcedbb6f?ns_campaign=bbc-three&ns_mchannel=social&ns_source=twitter&ns_linkname=runnerssecrets" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;" target="_blank">coverage</a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> for our sport, courtesy of an insight into the slightly freaky aspects of it, no doubt off the back of Eddie's run in South Africa. Better than nothing I guess, but possibly won't help knock back that often asked question of "why?".....</span></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-89185994530096403502016-03-02T15:42:00.002+00:002016-03-02T22:22:45.161+00:00The week in running (to 28 Feb '16)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Taking Monday off, and a swim only on Tuesday, turned out to
be a good move. I started the week feeling whacked after a busy spell with work
and a lingering cold, but the two day running break seemed to be just enough to
flip back on to the right edge of the knife, which I seem to spend most of my life negotiating.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I doubled up on Wednesday with an easy 8 in the morning,
then the BAC marathon session of 10 x 5mins (1min) in the evening. I was
pleased with the outcome of the session with average pace starting at around
5.50m/m and generally getting quicker until a 5.37 final effort, save for a bit
of bobbing around in the middle. I ran most of the session alongside Ant Clarke
who’s in final preparation for the Anglo Celtic Plate 100km, running for
England, at the end of the month. He’s also been doing quite a bit of longer
running recently, so we nudged each other on nicely, and got through what felt
like a rather protracted set of reps.....<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My other pleasing run of the week was a 20miler on Saturday
morning, again with Ant, averaging 6.44m/m pace overall, including a Blandford
park run ‘effort’ in the middle. I do love those Saturday morning parkrun
sandwich sessions – it seems a nice way to add a bit of structure and again get
the legs turning over a bit quicker. I hit the hills again on Sunday morning for my
usual long-ish run of 21-and-a-bit miles, trudging around the north Dorset hills and villages via Bulbarrow,
Overton, Iberton, Hameldon and Hod hills. Lovely, except I felt a bit
knackered. I enjoyed the new route though, and nice to run off memory and carrying nothing other than a car key.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;">So another solid week in the bag, despite only running on 5
days, and it’s now spring. How did that happen? Hopefully the trails will now
start to dry out and get </span><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;">a bit quicker,
and I’ll be in a position to run them faster. Onwards and upwards…..</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-75056552306487500162016-02-24T15:58:00.002+00:002016-03-02T15:52:33.471+00:00The week in running (to 21 Feb '16)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I thought it was about time I penned some running ramblings.
Looking back at the blog and seeing the last entry was June 2015 on my Ramsay
Round is rather demoralising, so time for a fresh start. I thought a paragraph
or two a week would be a good discipline, if nothing else providing a good
time to reflect on what I've been up to, which of course largely evolves around running. How long I will last, who knows…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So ignoring the write-off that was the second half of last
year (I won’t bore you with the gory details of that), since Christmas I’ve felt on
an upward trajectory. I guess if you start somewhere quite bad (i.e. unfit) the
gains are going to be regular and significant. And they have! I’ve been
building up the miles again, running 6+ days/ week most weeks, and getting in
some good regular sessions, plus the odd race. Above all, feeling positive
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So the aim is to bag a good block of consistency in the
build up to the <a href="http://www.highlandflingrace.org/" target="_blank">Highland Fling</a> at the end of April, my first ‘A’ race of the year. It’s
been quite a while since I set foot on the West Highland Way so a return to the
shores of Loch Lomond is an exciting prospect. Prior to, and in the build up to the Fling, I’m running the
<a href="http://runfurther.com/haworth-hobble/" target="_blank">‘Hobble’</a> in mid-March, plus a handful of road races to get some sharpness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So the routine is going to be 80 odd miles a week
consistently until mid-March, then perhaps cranking it up a touch in the final
build up to the Fling. Wednesday night I’ll run the marathon sessions with the
Bournemouth AC boys down the prom, and get in some 5km parkrun efforts within
longer runs on a Saturday morning. Sunday morning will be a long run, on the
hills most weeks. So a nice balance of quicker stuff to improve on leg
turnover, and endurance built from slogging it out on the hills. Nice. And the biggest challenge as always will be fitting it in around 'life' - the job which calls me away from home quite a bit - and all the other important stuff. More on that as we go along.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Last week I was pleased to nail some good 12 minute efforts (x3) on Wednesday night
in horrible weather on the Bournemouth seafront, consistently getting faster
from marathon pace, as is my style. In fact if you study my runs on Strava, I
find it impossible to run a first mile at anywhere near the average target pace
for the run, so always tend to be playing catch up. Most runs turn out to be progressive, which of course is the best
way to run an ultra anyway, so I'm not particularly worried :o) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I’ve had a lingering cold which I hoping I’ve just about got
through the worst of after 2 weeks. On Saturday morning I ran my quickest
parkrun of the year so no impact there, but on Sunday’s long run on the North
Dorset hills my body wasn’t overly happy, calling for some back-off – too early
in the year to risk over cooking it. So a quiet Monday and possibly Tuesday me thinks.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-12447788605183679382015-06-17T20:13:00.001+01:002015-06-17T20:39:31.034+01:00Ramsay's Round - 12th June 2015<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ramsay_Round" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was early on Thursday 11<sup>th</sup> June
when this whole thing came to life. Gemma and I were up early ready for
our flight to Glasgow and onward journey north to the Highlands. It felt like
a slightly extravagant way to travel, but after too much time spent at a
standstill on the M6 over the past couple of months, it wasn’t a hard decision
to justify.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Like each of the preceding 10 days, the first
thing I did on waking was to check the weather forecast for the
Lochaber area, to see how it was all panning out for the big day. Surely I was
due a bit of luck after the two previous weather related postponements? The
long range forecast for Saturday had looked reasonable earlier in the week, but
it was now deteriorating with the midweek band of high pressure and settled
conditions now forecast to move away earlier on Friday night. Saturday’s forecast
was for cloud, mist, light rain and cooler temperatures on the summits with
increasingly brisk winds. It didn’t look conducive to a fast Ramsay Round, so I
was again re-considering my options. Ultimately I needed good visibility, dry
ground underfoot and light winds to give myself any sort of chance of realising
my goals. Such a day had barely existed in the Scottish mountains so far this year, after a somewhat protracted winter and <o:p></o:p>unseasonably cold spring.</span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Roll back a week and I had been faced with a
similar dilemma. The advice I had been given by Ramsay veterans was to ‘do
what’s right for me’, essentially not to worry about the impact of a
postponement on the wider team. The theory is that a skeleton team would almost
always come together, and the advantage of favourable conditions would far
outweigh the smaller support team. But to re-schedule three times – really a
good idea? Would the team not start losing faith?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This cloud did however have a nice shiny silver lining -
there was </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">a really good looking forecast for Friday – dry, sunny and light winds.
So with no time to think through the scenarios in too much detail, I set about
sounding out members of the team, to see whether they could support an attempt
24 hours earlier. It was a spontaneous decision which I’m fairly renowned for,
but it just felt like the right one at that moment. Numerous texts were exchanged before take
off, and by the time we landed in Glasgow just over an hour later, I had
confirmation that all but two of my original team could still help, albeit we would need to shuffle around the order a little. We were on for early start on Friday 12th. I duly sent a
confirmation note to the team and that was that - no going back now – time to
get on with it. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But it was now late
morning, we were still in the suburbs of Glasgow, and in a little over 15 hours
time I would be setting off on my long-planned Ramsay attempt. Cue a rather sizeable
surge of adrenaline and some hasty plans to pick up last bits of kit and
sustenance for the run.</span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am sure every team member has a story to
tell in terms of the re-jigging of plans. For example my main man on the ground
was Charlie Ramsay himself, and the earlier start time meant he had to set off
for the Highlands immediately after his Thursday evening dinner party at home
in Edinburgh, to be waiting at the start just a few hours later, with no sleep.
Cameron Burt was originally due to run the 4 hour middle-of-the-day Leg 2 with
me, but I now relied on him to lead me out on the first section over the bigger
and more technical 4,000 footers, with not much more than 12 hours notice. Both
perfect examples of the level of commitment shown by everyone, but also the
favours I called in. No pressure then. Just don’t muck it up Jez. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When you also consider that I hadn’t even met
several of my support team members before the big day, you will soon get a
sense of the strength of the Scottish hill running community, and their
enthusiasm for this particular challenge. It was all seriously warming stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Despite the fact I was setting off in a
somewhat hurried manner, I increasingly got a sense that it was all clicking
nicely into place, and it made me feel comfortable and calm with the whole
situation. Sometimes you can drift into these challenges without the sense of
purpose and excitement required, but events as they unfolded and the endless goodwill shown by the team seemed to ignite a fire within. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As an all important part of my preparations,
I had written a schedule which was shared amongst the team and used to break down
the Round into small sections for the benefit of support runners and those
manning static re-supply points. They would then know when and where to expect
me, and I would know the splits I needed to run in order to achieve my goal. Easy,
right. So then, on to my goal. Put simply, I just wanted to have a proper crack at this thing,
not least because these opportunities are typically few and far between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I failed at this attempt, it would be
another year at least before a re-attempt would be feasible. And after spending
so much time learning the lines and getting everything ready, I had to be bold
and give the record a go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One of the ways a Round differs from a race
is that you have to commit to a set of split times beforehand, and essentially
you are measured against those splits all day. As soon as the schedule had gone
out to the team, that was it, the commitment had been made. The target time for
the schedule was 18hrs 20mins, a few minutes inside Adrian Belton’s famously
tough record that had stood untouched since 1989. Crikey, what have I done….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The story of the run itself is told here through a collection
of accounts by members of the support team, hopefully adding some interesting
angles.</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><u>The
Start @ 0300hrs. Leg 1: Ben Nevis, Cairn Mor Dearg and the Aonachs</u><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jez:</i></b> Cam Burt was the man who had landed the job of getting me through
to the start of the Grey Corries at least, ideally a bit further. Cam was
literally the only person who could make it to Glen Nevis for the start time,
but with a little arm twisting, seemed up for the challenge. We had never met or run together
before, but thankfully there was the chance for a bit of dinner and a chat the
night before, and we got on well from the off. We would soon share some rather
special moments ‘on the hill’ as we climbed the Ben under clear skies and a gently
rising run. I have had few more spectacular experiences in the hills than our brief moments atop of the Ben – what a
great start for the big day ahead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cam Burt: </i></b><span lang="EN-US">I was probably more nervous than Jez at 3am as I had
been tasked with pacing him through the first leg, hopefully helping to set him
up well for the rest of the day – quite a task for someone who never plays at
the sharp end of the field! At 3am Charlie Ramsay himself set us off. </span></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQUCEk8SfPe_X6rIP1bMHGcWEAlX_31EbaabFEiaYTrK7qxQZC5a2b3G9-_Sy1MzkbyDYgOvyj98JfDbqvOMBdj1nrrLgJm7Y5y1jhBoaf_rtZXz9ymLSGGFSYY5-Rc13cVhrJqwrmC_Y/s1600/P1040048.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQUCEk8SfPe_X6rIP1bMHGcWEAlX_31EbaabFEiaYTrK7qxQZC5a2b3G9-_Sy1MzkbyDYgOvyj98JfDbqvOMBdj1nrrLgJm7Y5y1jhBoaf_rtZXz9ymLSGGFSYY5-Rc13cVhrJqwrmC_Y/s640/P1040048.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The start. Glen Nevis YH, 0300hrs. Myself, Cam, Charlie & Gemma holding the camera.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US">I made
nervous conversation for a bit before we settled into a steady rhythm. Head
torches were turned off after half-an-hour and we were soon past the Red Burn
and making great progress to the summit of Ben Nevis. It was a still, clear
morning so I knew we were in for a treat, but the next few hours turned out to
be the most inspiring running I've ever had! We reached the snow-line as the
moon set over the summit and the sky was burning with the rising sun.
Pleasingly the legs weren't! A quick time check over the summit and I pulled
out the ice-axes and we hurtled down the snow towards the CMD arête like a
couple of children released from school early. We probably should have had a
responsible adult with us as Jez did cut his hand – not sure how but it bled
quite a bit and would be black and blue by the end of the day. </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTRIwLdZF-13t6-TD61VQp-tcqElhFxJvN3jcbFvcQ1bXNqM06rSAhJJjP_RnqiZ0CrpAFGZ2dzC2itNWRaQaEErwBPk9GYvBi8U5UhOrCMY85xFIlcvHfxqopw8SSZKSjKJBCk0H6YdY/s1600/DSC01343_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTRIwLdZF-13t6-TD61VQp-tcqElhFxJvN3jcbFvcQ1bXNqM06rSAhJJjP_RnqiZ0CrpAFGZ2dzC2itNWRaQaEErwBPk9GYvBi8U5UhOrCMY85xFIlcvHfxqopw8SSZKSjKJBCk0H6YdY/s640/DSC01343_edited-1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reaching the summit of Ben Nevis at sunrise</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtEgpav7VDNqp-HnWDlTZ7kjmt7SJ2UKayHvcRN3-cq36JfgM65qMUUoWP0BQ7Y7Bkw1uvZ5E4JXyXsraQHv2NS8Zdzu82DClzOJPfgZ1GE4floVbZp2SVnFC7edCh-C0NxyQIMTpcUr8/s1600/DSC01346_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtEgpav7VDNqp-HnWDlTZ7kjmt7SJ2UKayHvcRN3-cq36JfgM65qMUUoWP0BQ7Y7Bkw1uvZ5E4JXyXsraQHv2NS8Zdzu82DClzOJPfgZ1GE4floVbZp2SVnFC7edCh-C0NxyQIMTpcUr8/s640/DSC01346_edited-1.jpg" width="425" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descent off Ben Nevis to CMD arete</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhXhJp2VD7RG1JoqtFwtP9Abc3G9tUpOFHPpJ9FAZRCdNwiGXZibDUWCKno4cjJWsRLoOPnWo4PwqldojyK0r_BCsC0ryBH09GnZdL69daatXtZzu-kjSfs31iuS5D1xQG1cZXzv7vPPP/s1600/DSC01349_edited-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhXhJp2VD7RG1JoqtFwtP9Abc3G9tUpOFHPpJ9FAZRCdNwiGXZibDUWCKno4cjJWsRLoOPnWo4PwqldojyK0r_BCsC0ryBH09GnZdL69daatXtZzu-kjSfs31iuS5D1xQG1cZXzv7vPPP/s640/DSC01349_edited-2.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Closing in on CMD summit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The ‘chicken run’ was quickly found and
we made lightening progress along the ridge, only briefly deviating from the
track to avoid some snow patches as the axes were stowed once again. Jez asked
for some fuel at the CMD summit so I pushed on a little and got the menu ready.
After packing supplies away I had to work hard to catch back up but knew I
needed to be there before the nasty snow patch near the col. Using the snow
patch was definitely the quickest route but Jez would need the axe again to
have the confidence to go for it. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Once up on the Aonachs with the summit
cairn in sight I let Jez go ahead and bag the Aonach Mor summit alone as I refueled
myself – something that is easily forgotten as a support runner. Re-united we
trotted onto Aonach Beag with shadows 3 times longer than our height. There was
no-where I would have rather been at that point as we both took some time to
enjoy the stunning morning unfolding around us. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUK8iLmR-KAQ8dss11oWwbTrq0D5m86V40caNz5hfTLeuwBZSlAUo68KbW5tObLn2l8KmhykuI6dTtFmexvte6fw35C-U5vcGUvoDVRwCzvXi0JgeXexHXdIenTi8kifO3MyCg3GEk4yYH/s1600/DSC01358_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUK8iLmR-KAQ8dss11oWwbTrq0D5m86V40caNz5hfTLeuwBZSlAUo68KbW5tObLn2l8KmhykuI6dTtFmexvte6fw35C-U5vcGUvoDVRwCzvXi0JgeXexHXdIenTi8kifO3MyCg3GEk4yYH/s640/DSC01358_edited-1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aonach Beag summit</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Spinks’ Ridge was successfully negotiates
with a few cheers from Anna and Chris waiting at the col below. While Jez got some rice
pudding down I offloaded the ice-axes, spikes and head-torches to Anna and
scoffed a sandwich myself. Anna kindly took the metal back to base camp and
Chris Busby joined us for the rest of leg 1 – phew, I could share the pacer
responsibility!</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><u>The Grey
Corries</u><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">Chris Busby:</span></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></i>Just
past 4 in the morning on Friday 12<sup>th</sup> June and Anna and I were
leaving the Steall Falls car park to make a 6 a.m. rendezvous high in the hills
with two men we’d never met.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite
minimal sleep, our anticipation at the day ahead was high as we jogged through
Glen Nevis in the still morning air; the peaks which make up the Ramsay Round
rising to the left and the right of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’d left ourselves plenty of time and two hours later we were relaxing
in the sun when Anna spotted figures above us, moving swiftly down the ridge,
the figure in the yellow t-shirt leading the way and whooping in response to
the arms we raised in greeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quick
handshakes all round were sufficient introduction as Jez (in yellow) and Cam
unburdened themselves of axes and spikes and Jez stuffed some rice pudding into
his mouth. Good news, I thought: one less thing for me to carry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The
running felt easy to begin with, fresh legs carrying me lightly over the hills
of the Grey Corries on generally easy ground with some soft snow slopes to
descend. On the descent from Stob Ban I stopped to replenish water, losing a
minute or so and had to push in order to regroup at the start of the long and
leg-sapping climb up Stob Coire Easain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrq4MoIok4BtpLAoebFE_RxBcTZVlOPSSSKPSqc6eqdqn8_qD56T2yLbzRuOlk5myBKQXGxD9LlMsUP5ve-HxyqqYXn5Gl3hvtHV8bhEQp3M6K9KBEhP25cZGsQhEin00KCgqV88AtpZBH/s1600/DSC01361_edited-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrq4MoIok4BtpLAoebFE_RxBcTZVlOPSSSKPSqc6eqdqn8_qD56T2yLbzRuOlk5myBKQXGxD9LlMsUP5ve-HxyqqYXn5Gl3hvtHV8bhEQp3M6K9KBEhP25cZGsQhEin00KCgqV88AtpZBH/s640/DSC01361_edited-2.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">En route to Stob Ban, the last of the Grey Corries</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now
Jez was setting the pace, I was hanging on through the rough heather, knowing
that Cam was falling behind due to the additional four hills in his legs. I
could feel the beginnings of cramp in the hamstrings as we neared the summit
but careful pacing kept it at bay and once we summited I knew my job was nearly
done. The short climb up Stob a’ Choire Mheadhoin was over in minutes and there
was even time for brief conversation on the descent to Loch Treig, Graham Nash
meeting us at the pillar to guide us in on the final descent to the handover
point.</span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">Cam:</span></i></b><span lang="EN-US"> I was still feeling good, but knew pacing Jez all the
way to Fersit would be difficult alone. The Grey Corries went in a flash. Jez,
Chris and I worked well together, each taking the pace at different points and
generally finding the optimal route. However, as we summited Stob Ban, the
final Grey Corrie, I knew my time was up so I made Jez aware I was expecting to
fall back. We were all together as we crossed the Lairig Leacach path but I
would drop 5 minutes to Jez and Chris climbing the seemingly never-ending Stob
Coire Easain. Once over I regained my rhythm and was soon running off Stob
a'Choire Mheadhoin trying to get back in touch. It is a belter of a descent and
I thoroughly enjoyed it arriving at Fersit Dam as Jez was departing after his 4
minute break. He was still moving smoothly and looked strong – I was in pieces!
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgy3rrnECYq0y5CiIjqvxycqju61qaAochRSBlsCmIhf9Se2WE23HW-8-bnAqOguvUw8qRukPHK5aAnwtp2-y4agd5DPin05gnpP4tJxqrtMBvcyWdfTfCx0GlP9pDTvp3FDfrgqS0azB/s1600/P1190332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgy3rrnECYq0y5CiIjqvxycqju61qaAochRSBlsCmIhf9Se2WE23HW-8-bnAqOguvUw8qRukPHK5aAnwtp2-y4agd5DPin05gnpP4tJxqrtMBvcyWdfTfCx0GlP9pDTvp3FDfrgqS0azB/s640/P1190332.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pit stop at Fersit - all hands to the deck. 4 minutes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><u>Leg
2: Fersit to Loch Eilde Mor</u><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Jez:</span></i></b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> The first leg couldn’t really have gone any better. I felt strong throughout, enjoyed some quick glissades down snow covered slopes, and
managed to negotiate bits which I hadn’t practised much beforehand such as the CMD
arête ‘chicken run’ and ‘Spinks’ ridge’. In fact, on reaching Fersit and
feeling as good as I did, the biggest danger was over-confidence and subsequently
making pacing or other silly mistakes. After a couple of minutes re-stocking my
pack and water bottles at Fersit – the static support guys did a great job of
turning me round quickly - I headed off on Leg 2 with Olly Stephenson. Olly
continues the story.</span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Olly:</i></b> Jez’s splits were already streaming in as
text messages, and he was 20 mins ahead of schedule by the time we met him at
Loch Treig/ Fersit, the first of the two 4 minute breaks that he’d allowed
himself throughout the day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Jez and I set off on Leg 2 at a fair clip,
the previous seven hours and ten Munros had obviously done little to tame his
determination or speed. Loch Treig reflected the surrounding peaks like a
mirror as we worked our way up the steep and unforgiving Stob Choire Sgriodain,
before popping over the top to Chno Dearg and then a big descent/re-ascent to
the summit of Beinn Na Lap, the most distant point on the Round and
consequently blessed with one of the most humbling views – Ben Nevis looks
miles away to the west, with a multitude of peaks in-between, most of which Jez
had now climbed, or would soon climb – it’s perhaps a scale and perspective
that would more normally be associated with a space station than a run.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gL0KsJ-BpikmxgEsyZ0qh-RS9UNIEomf8pJOK6z3O4jTZdZwDEUXs8-IQyPq0Q1uj1QbuYPJtrxRFDW5vTAbehCwTAgKbPfZtutQehrKtHNzcydeSVehyphenhyphenH3qujYjxeRglCkmUA1tGVLd/s1600/DSC00193.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gL0KsJ-BpikmxgEsyZ0qh-RS9UNIEomf8pJOK6z3O4jTZdZwDEUXs8-IQyPq0Q1uj1QbuYPJtrxRFDW5vTAbehCwTAgKbPfZtutQehrKtHNzcydeSVehyphenhyphenH3qujYjxeRglCkmUA1tGVLd/s640/DSC00193.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Choire Sgriodain summit. I had already climbed pretty much everything behind me!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">From Beinn Na Lap we had 1:50 to descend to
the track and then run along the gently ascending track/moorland to the second
static support point at Loch Eilde Mor, which we reached after ~4:30 of running
in increasing heat. Jez kept it together very well, staying focussed and
generally only displaying the faintest glimmers of suffering by occasional
periods of silence, but if he was suffering he never said anything.</span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At Loch Eilde Mor we were met by the world’s
finest support crew of Gemma Bragg, Murdo McEwan and Charlie Ramsay himself
(the same team as Loch Treig/ Fersit), who busiest themselves like a Formula 1
pit crew to turn Jez around in 5 minutes, and he was off again with the fresh
legs of Graham Nash to chase. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><u>Leg
3: The Mamores</u><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Jez:</b> Leg 2 had been a real slog. The change from
feeling strong and confident, to weary and disheartened, had happened
worryingly quickly. It was probably a direct result of the heat in the middle
part of the day, and not allowing myself the time to cool off properly in the
streams when the opportunity arose. It was an aggressive and probably quite risky approach I was taking. I feared letting my guard down to do
anything other than move forward as quickly as possible. The section as a whole
had felt frustrating – I was leaking minutes hear and there - and the
cumulative result was a loss of my 20 minute cushion. I was now neither ahead nor
behind schedule and at the start of the crucial final third of the run, with a big
set of 11 Munros ahead, and zero fat in my ambitious schedule.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Graham Nash: </i></b>“That’s 5 minutes”, said Murdo. Jez had been
at the support point at the Loch Eilde Mor ruin one minute too long, having
arrived at 14.28 on schedule. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Lets go”. And so the climb up
Sgurr Eilde Mor began. First of the final eleven Munros. We had 43 minutes to
get to the summit. My job to support Jez on the final leg on his attempt on the
record for Ramsay’s Round. Olly, who had run leg 2, was close behind carrying
some of Jez’s supplies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Having recced the Mamores with
Jez 3 weeks earlier, I knew the pace would have to be quick. Olly started to
drop behind and shouted he would see us on Binnein Mor, I grabbed a bottle of
flat coke from him and Jez was already 20 metres ahead, climbing strongly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“I need sugar”. Jez downed the
coke and soon we were at the summit. 43 minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Jez hurled himself down the scree
run. On the recce he had cautiously descended. Not today. Rocks and stones were
flying in all directions. A fall would lead to serious injury. Off the path and
the line to pick up the track to the summit of Binnein Beag was perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the summit: “you’ve gained 2 minutes”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Next the scree run off Binnein
Beag. This time Jez was even more reckless. I kept back, fearful of hitting him
with an airborne stone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At the bottom he stopped to get
stones out of his shoes, he took the left shoe and I did the right. We joked
about ignoring the advice of wearing ankle gaiters. I secretly hoped these 2
minutes wouldn’t prove costly.</span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I went ahead to refill the water
bottles from the melting snow. For the ascent of Binnein Mor we headed for the
North ridge – the corrie still full of snow, preventing the normal direct
route. Jez had recced this previously and thought it was just as quick. He was
right, we gained another minute.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Olly was waiting at point 1062
and I called ahead for more flat coke. We were going at a good pace, but I was
conscious of how aggressive the Mamores schedule was. I hurried Jez along
telling him to run anything that was remotely runnable. Na Gruagaichean in just
19 minutes. Another minute gained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ahead at the bealach was Jon Gay
running towards us with carrier bag in hand. Jon injected more speed and we followed
around the traverse into the corrie below An Garbhanach. We’d agreed previously
that only one support runner would do the out and backs on the narrow ridges –
theory being a team of 2 would move quicker than 3. Actually I was glad of the
break, and took the opportunity to replenish the water bottles. It was a shame
there were no rivers of flat coke as this was Jez’s preference.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxEybfHALnTUXqYrAnsG-o9q5LQ45erqWOOLurFXjj2zFhYlc200Dxl2bmt2Pfdua7fGRwzvC_EVaBby3vtYm_EryfJZW-CWbVfZ3OHoeq6bSwGGfXiaxuQ1qRrPup5m3ezS52XECGjDF/s1600/DSC00201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxEybfHALnTUXqYrAnsG-o9q5LQ45erqWOOLurFXjj2zFhYlc200Dxl2bmt2Pfdua7fGRwzvC_EVaBby3vtYm_EryfJZW-CWbVfZ3OHoeq6bSwGGfXiaxuQ1qRrPup5m3ezS52XECGjDF/s640/DSC00201.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mamores - spot the runner</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkd6tF-CUQv_Psln_ck5TlPTG4Vmq7Z80M91VxBuHEy2249lzHuQUSwLRcrkcP5DJMvymbCqDHxnPnVhZqzmW2VP-2vnr_3yfKPg0_K7PN52Ecd1Ng1GW95obvACZ32k800anZkro9irgp/s1600/DSC00216.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkd6tF-CUQv_Psln_ck5TlPTG4Vmq7Z80M91VxBuHEy2249lzHuQUSwLRcrkcP5DJMvymbCqDHxnPnVhZqzmW2VP-2vnr_3yfKPg0_K7PN52Ecd1Ng1GW95obvACZ32k800anZkro9irgp/s640/DSC00216.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mamores with Ben Nevis far right</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRK6wASEi5eohZUhj4svi039cxsZ1PKrTgGNiHDn9pD5VatCEKqP1UrFWlR2rwnye_JZCXe88yI3F7TdWpRB3UWVguRjdMnrsHZqRJVd03uUQbTmzrZqWqrQlLmYOVwpbqsvYA0FCVId9f/s1600/DSC00218.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRK6wASEi5eohZUhj4svi039cxsZ1PKrTgGNiHDn9pD5VatCEKqP1UrFWlR2rwnye_JZCXe88yI3F7TdWpRB3UWVguRjdMnrsHZqRJVd03uUQbTmzrZqWqrQlLmYOVwpbqsvYA0FCVId9f/s640/DSC00218.jpeg" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graham leading me off Binnein Mor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvQoZCVziMz7cw-TygvsS57jrUm2Y17dpql7MJBpJwJGMtPVtS9dIy93pMcyL6DVkqzakZW_jV4H1zyt-MkanXJez3bwrtMrfsAJJisJZMfdzJ3qIRiOjbYeiV2zi5E1qjsrQJdQ3jqVk/s1600/DSC00220.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvQoZCVziMz7cw-TygvsS57jrUm2Y17dpql7MJBpJwJGMtPVtS9dIy93pMcyL6DVkqzakZW_jV4H1zyt-MkanXJez3bwrtMrfsAJJisJZMfdzJ3qIRiOjbYeiV2zi5E1qjsrQJdQ3jqVk/s640/DSC00220.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mamores with Ben Nevis, CMD & Aonach Beag in the background</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARqVpanarVH3mYqFu3LfIDys5By2AmMJSkfiBt0LydHSiiw740U4S9Q0-STJKUfT2qTtxL8t8FiYM6O7CIzGTkeyimrKhaHJ6s5JuGlpycdvm-Nv-tq9-FdjLtznmneEkIqV4zOXzr5ZB/s1600/DSC00226.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARqVpanarVH3mYqFu3LfIDys5By2AmMJSkfiBt0LydHSiiw740U4S9Q0-STJKUfT2qTtxL8t8FiYM6O7CIzGTkeyimrKhaHJ6s5JuGlpycdvm-Nv-tq9-FdjLtznmneEkIqV4zOXzr5ZB/s640/DSC00226.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Solo, on the summit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmZmMxtBakUlGsO8pevbqKAlzu_IVOHEVv5qO12-4lV8vsszP921D_-LfFpnm7_H3j1YojTN6Sx7eIyVEna9eJ7CzUpZVO8L7DyMLMSLl_wm9KntY6QYqUMlidkX3MJiIa6cLnEF6mW-o/s1600/DSC00229.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmZmMxtBakUlGsO8pevbqKAlzu_IVOHEVv5qO12-4lV8vsszP921D_-LfFpnm7_H3j1YojTN6Sx7eIyVEna9eJ7CzUpZVO8L7DyMLMSLl_wm9KntY6QYqUMlidkX3MJiIa6cLnEF6mW-o/s640/DSC00229.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Suffering in the final stages</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Zl6qboBGS12wK_OXZNqAmsSZ5xPxLyyGUsKaQYD8ZjfxiDZ2eTFYtwmM3fwwWY4kFw679fwquz_uPeRB44U2pofaYyMgNhiIHBJ438jX_JtIHtj5_C5CcAInUmy-7Q_URORve7cbwPe3/s1600/DSC00231.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Zl6qboBGS12wK_OXZNqAmsSZ5xPxLyyGUsKaQYD8ZjfxiDZ2eTFYtwmM3fwwWY4kFw679fwquz_uPeRB44U2pofaYyMgNhiIHBJ438jX_JtIHtj5_C5CcAInUmy-7Q_URORve7cbwPe3/s640/DSC00231.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The all important touch of the summit cairn</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhboPReH2Y_aLut_oY-pZPn4WikhKGvOD7huT5DBQnA5m_eU5AJ9SfPXCpW_Co08hCG3eArrRZrTkvfC5HUk6_A7FXAazl5iFR-Tp7K_XSS7nroKHj2bACanxmNDqerX33SKX2tZeE_Odw7/s1600/DSC00233.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhboPReH2Y_aLut_oY-pZPn4WikhKGvOD7huT5DBQnA5m_eU5AJ9SfPXCpW_Co08hCG3eArrRZrTkvfC5HUk6_A7FXAazl5iFR-Tp7K_XSS7nroKHj2bACanxmNDqerX33SKX2tZeE_Odw7/s640/DSC00233.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mamores 'freight train' in full flow</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jon Gay:</i></b> <span lang="EN-US">Waiting on the
col under Na Gruagaichean I was able to reflect on how long the route is and
what Jez would be going through. It must have been hard in the heat. Like many
I had been following the Tracker religiously (a Friday at work). Spot on
schedule, figures appeared on the Binnien Mor skyline. Having not run with Jez
but seen him winning the West Highland Way Race I had a fair idea that the pace
would be relentless. It was, and often not too far from a longer race pace;
especially downhill and on undulating ground. The bag of goodies was being
consumed which was reassuring, flat coke being the popular item which we ran
out of. We had been encouraged to give a 'metaphorical kick up the arse'.
Graham and I offered some robust encouragement; I'm not sure how appropriately.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chris Busby:</i></b> Seven
hours on from last seeing Jez, and the sun was still shining as Anna and I waited
on An Gearanach with flat coke, water, chocolate, caramel shortbread, rice
pudding and gels laid out waiting for Jez and co to arrive. Jon Gay appeared
first, Jez a couple of seconds later. After 15 hours on the go the effort in
his face was obvious but he was still moving well, having made up several
minutes on his schedule since the previous peak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Watching them descend to re-group with
Graham Nash and start the next ascent I knew the record would be tight but the
support team was strong and experienced, they moved smoothly together and I
knew they would give Jez the best of chances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Graham:</i></b> Jez and Jon soon reappeared – they had
gained 7 minutes. Olly was at the summit of a’ Chairn (one minute lost), “any
flat coke?”, “nope just water”. Am Bodach came quickly but we lost another 2
minutes. We hurried Jez along the ridge, always Jon in front, running and
rummaging in the carrier bag “can you manage a banana?”, “No”, “shortbread?”,
“no”, “gel?”, “yes”.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One downside of a day’s diet of
sugary snacks is backwind. Jez guffed one in my face and it caught in the back
of my throat. I coughed and dry wretched, thinking it would bad form for the
support runner to hurl. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Next the Munro top of Sgurr an
lubhair – I kept encouraging Jez to make the most of the runnable bits. “stay
on Jon’s heels”. The only reply was a loud fart. At the summit we had lost
another 2 minutes. We needed to up the rate of progress. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the Devils Ridge out and back
to Sgurr a Mhaim I again volunteered to wait it out. The temperature was
dropping quickly and the clouds building. The final 2 summits had very
aggressive split times, 40 minutes to Stob Ban, and then a mere 30 minutes for
the long haul to the Mullach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jon:</i></b> <span lang="EN-US">The last out and back was fast. The cooler
breeze must have been welcome. I remember how sick and awful I had felt here in
the past but encouraged by the view of the finish. Jez looked confident and I
was guessing that the schedule was safe. It must have been stressful though. It
was obvious at Stob Ban that Jez was preparing for an all out effort at the
end. Again the undulating ground was covered rather effectively. By Mullach it
was still 'exciting'. I wasn't expecting we would descend so quickly, a very
brave effort with burning legs. After only 4 hours for me it was important to
remind myself of the pain. Crossing the forest stile did look very
uncomfortable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">Jez: </span></i></b><span lang="EN-US">The team
effort across the Mamores was perfect. It wasn’t rehearsed, but Jon, Olly and
Graham just knew exactly what was needed to get the job done. The opportunity
was there, but it was far from in the bag. I had reassured Graham previously
that I’m pretty good at ‘hanging on’ towards the end, when others might start
to fade, but it was easier said than done in this instance. My climbing legs felt
trashed. The rough and steep pull up<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>Sgurr Eilde Mor felt so hard, it was a hands
on knees job to support my legs. I really wasn’t sure I could even run again
after summiting. But as ever, the change of muscle group into descent (the
scree) brought me back to life momentarily. And that set the tone for what
became the mental and physical rollercoaster of the Mamores – my semi-tortuous world for the next
six hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Graham:</i></b> Sooner than expected I heard a shout and Jon
was leading Jez down the grassy slope toward the top of the zig zag path. One
minute gained. Well done Jon.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the lochan, Jez really picked
up the pace – he knew how tight it was. Jez asked for food. Gemma’s millionaire
shortbread hit the mark, “made with love”. The final climb to Stob Ban is short
and steep. We’d lost another minute. Jez had a mere 5 minutes cushion.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The last climb – Jez was giving
it everything, the pace was getting quicker. He was asking for flat coke, but
it was long gone. Jon handed me some powdered glucose drink and I dissolved it
in one of the water bottles. It seemed to do the trick. At the summit we’d lost
3 minutes, Jez asked me to send the update text – the time was that tight. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Again Jon led the charge down.
“Let’s ****ing do this guys”.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had timed the descent from the
summit to the Youth Hostel last year and managed 53 minutes on fresh legs. Jez
had 55 minutes on his schedule, but he’d been going for over 17 hours. I was
nervous, and wasn’t going to let him miss the record by a few minutes. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Pick it up to the fence, Jez”,
“stay on Jon’s heels”, “you’re doing great”, “not far now”, “last descent” –
all the bullshit cliché words of encouragement I could think of.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Jez slipped on some loose rocks
and yelped in pain, but didn’t slow.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The tension between the three of
us was building. Every few yards glancing at our watches. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then suddenly Jez stopped and
took a pee. “You haven’t got time for that” I shouted. Jez snapped back at me
deservedly, saying something like “a man’s gotta pee”. It broke the tension. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Over the stile, and into the
forest. On the track. Off the track and down into the forest again, through the
maze of windblown branches, any of which could break an ankle. Back on the
track. “Go Jezza”.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As we approached the point where
the track is left, and the road joined, Jez asked how far the road section was.
“1 mile”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We hit the road and glanced at
our watches. It was in the bag, but there was no let-up in pace.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then the Youth Hostel and
finish was in sight. The descent had taken just 49 minutes. Awesome
performance. Job done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirIWFVLBy8qUXzvLEKhyNkM_Zu8VNu-WHsD3QLzZmK_oXUVBBQzaEi3NIoB3PLoxyRDcuw0SFJcBuHKBpNWM8evWBTYtn1hUFbuxJArenapfrHn91XrKOXJ6EK64PdlE83A5SpsAXueynl/s1600/P1190373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirIWFVLBy8qUXzvLEKhyNkM_Zu8VNu-WHsD3QLzZmK_oXUVBBQzaEi3NIoB3PLoxyRDcuw0SFJcBuHKBpNWM8evWBTYtn1hUFbuxJArenapfrHn91XrKOXJ6EK64PdlE83A5SpsAXueynl/s640/P1190373.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's what it means!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><u>Closing Thoughts:</u></span></b></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Graham:</i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>The record was thoroughly deserved. Jez
started this journey 2 years ago and has put in a lot of hard work with many
recces in recent months. Having postponed twice due to the weather, and then
seen the great forecast 24 hours before his third scheduled attempt, he saw the
narrow window of opportunity and took it, albeit with a reduced support team.
Huge respect. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">Jon:</span></i></b><span lang="EN-US"> Thanks very
much Jez for the opportunity to be involved. Hugely well done. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Olly:</i></b> Within a few hills the pace ratcheted up again as the fresh legs
of Jon Gay joined the party, at which point the three of them (Jon, Jez and
Graham) looked more like a freight train than a group of hill runners, and I
straight-lined it to the finish to see Jez complete in record-breaking time.
Hill days simply don’t get any better than this. It was an honour and privilege
to be a small part of Jez’s big day; I loved the way a random group of people
came together at such short-notice to help make it happen, and that we all got
to share in the warm glow of his success. Maximum respect to Jez, I suspect his
record will last a while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chris:</i></b> Back in Glen Nevis when the text message arrived telling
us he was two minutes ahead of schedule on the final summit I knew that with a
target to aim for he was not going to miss. So it proved. 18hr 12 mins.
Awesome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cam:</i></b> <span lang="EN-US">Fast forward 11 hours (plus a shower,
some cooked food and a snooze for me) and the support team are anxiously
waiting at the Nevis Youth Hostel for Jez to appear. He was carrying a GPS tracker
and we were getting text updates from each summit. We knew the record was still
on, though going to be tight. As each minute passed we got more nervous until
the yellow t-shirt finally appeared, Jez raised his arms and broke the tape
Charlie was holding in a time of 18 hours 12 minutes. A new course, beating the
26 year old record by 11 minutes! It was a heroic effort by Jez and thoroughly
deserved after 3 cancelled attempts due to weather and this attempt only
organised at lunchtime the day before! </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jez: </i></b>Running with guys like that, it’s not hard to see where the
inspiration comes from. Words exchanged were relatively few, but some life-long
bonds were formed. How to make a bunch of great friends in a weekend. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe there are easier ways!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Mamores required the deepest imaginable
soul-searching to keep to schedule. It was aggressive and tense, but magical at
the same time. The more I held on, the more resilient I managed to become, and
with fresh bursts of energy and support from Jon, Anna and Chris midway through
the leg, there was enough to lure me along to the part when I simply wouldn’t
allow myself fail. It was an incredibly special day out. There had been a
glowing sunrise, clear skies, snowy descents, dry ridges, endless vistas,
soaring Golden Eagles, remote Glens, great company, and a body that had just
about played ball. It doesn’t get much more memorable than that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjARPrzVIE9st7wpVz6Uh8hU2PcL0_V5R8C7mKNzd_1cH-uE8mxTZ8jCq9MH_oD5eWgyuVkI5YYX6MsZICYSHBLSYtMcYtW9nS-XJzeo3sR7E8uJNm3PDCDtFH8-DG0zce8tu3LaMNMb4w-/s1600/P1040092.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjARPrzVIE9st7wpVz6Uh8hU2PcL0_V5R8C7mKNzd_1cH-uE8mxTZ8jCq9MH_oD5eWgyuVkI5YYX6MsZICYSHBLSYtMcYtW9nS-XJzeo3sR7E8uJNm3PDCDtFH8-DG0zce8tu3LaMNMb4w-/s640/P1040092.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Team</b><br />
Back row, L to R: Chris Busby, Cam Burt, Olly Stephenson, Gemma Bragg, Anna Busby<br />
Front row, L to R: Murdo 'The Magnificent' McEwan, Pete Duggan, Charlie Ramsay, Jez, Jon Gay, Graham Nash.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwl_7kXT-miA5nl2253CrfNFB5eE_RP1ZoKHFdCXP_Wjt0Ymyxc34zCOezVvMtoXXAFl49nrnsVgFHuPwCNuq-XqMNlJ4xrChCRyxYSADY2KBYMfg_MR4egNQJClL5AwI_i4Gce4XS5JHX/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-06-17+at+20.35.06.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwl_7kXT-miA5nl2253CrfNFB5eE_RP1ZoKHFdCXP_Wjt0Ymyxc34zCOezVvMtoXXAFl49nrnsVgFHuPwCNuq-XqMNlJ4xrChCRyxYSADY2KBYMfg_MR4egNQJClL5AwI_i4Gce4XS5JHX/s640/Screen+Shot+2015-06-17+at+20.35.06.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://maps.opentracking.co.uk/ramsey.cfm?n=2#" target="_blank">Open Tracking</a> - actual route</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><u>Reflections from the
Static Support Team:</u></span></span></b></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">Murdo McEwan:</span></i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></b>Jez
adventures, from much experience, tend to be very high in energy, adrenaline,
susceptibility to late changes of plan at short notice, potentially going pear
shaped without much warning, and weather. Conversely, they are very low on
sleep, predictable routine, and normal food intake. His Ramsay Round Record was
to be no exception to the norm; and all these boxes were ticked in spades. I
was not to be disappointed in my expectations. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u><o:p></o:p></u></i></b></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Establishing a suitable date set the scene.
23 May. 30 May. 13 June. All cancelled due to horrific weather. The last of
these, 13 June, being changed @ early afternoon on the 11<sup>th</sup>, to the
12<sup>th</sup>. So, the 12<sup>th</sup> it was, with an 03:00hrs start. I was
scheduled to rendezvous with the rest of the static support team at the car
park at Fersit at 09:45 hrs, a few hundred yards walk from where we would be
tending to the needs of Jez and his co runners Cam & Chris. I set off on
the c 130 mile drive accordingly. Mixed messages then started pinging through
that Jez had actually started @ 02:31; and that they were 20 minutes up on
schedule. Somehow I made up most of these 49 minutes, and hooked up with the
team. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Morale was high all round; the birds were
singing; a slight breeze; no midges. Jez was looking great; the 4,000ft high
hills, and 6 more, had all been conquered successfully; slick servicing of all
his requirements. He and Olly set off towards Munro number 11. Relieved at
everything going so well, I thought we were now setting off for copious cups of
leisurely tea and flapjack prior to the next rendezvous by the ruin @ Loch
Eilde Mor. Wrong!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Straight back, very briefly, to Jez and
Gemma’s run HQ chalet in Glen Nevis; then straight off again to Kinlochleven.
Charlie driving, along with Gemma, myself and Graham (final 1/3 of the Round
support runner), and the symbolic<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scotland
flag. Discussion about a gate across the road. “It’s never shut or locked”
(quote, several times, convincingly, from Charlie). This time it was very shut,
and very locked. Ouch. Potential disaster. Very very fortunately, we managed to
get it open, and to drive up the hill. If we hadn’t, we would never have got to
Loch Eilde Mor in time for the rendezvous, and the whole object of our presence
on the adventure would have failed. Oh dear. On such small twists of fate the
whole venture can succeed, or go down the pan....... (Worth bearing in mind for
future similar challenges.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A 1 ½ hour, 4 ½ mile, walk, with all supplies
that might be needed, along the dirt gravel road to the ruin by Loch Eilde Mor.
Lovely! Again, sunshine; breeze; no midges; views to die for. All this was
great. But we were in the middle of nowhere, with no communications signal of
any sort. While the rest of the world was able to follow Jez progress via the
online tracker, we hadn’t a clue where he was or how he might be getting on
relative to his schedule. This, to me, was quite disconcerting and worrying.
Maybe something had gone horribly wrong, and the whole venture was kaput ~ with
us in complete ignorance of the fact. All we could do was to get to the
rendezvous c 15 minutes ahead of the allotted time, and hope he’d turn up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We did so; all seemed well ~ from our
perspective. But we could only see c 200 yards in the direction he would
approach; not much notice of his actual arrival. So I headed off the c 200
yards to the corner, with the Scotland flag, from where I could see about
another 200 yards. And wait. Then they popped into view, Jez and Olly, spot on
time schedule; much flag waving both to them, and to the guys at the RV point. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Reunited! Morale high. Again. Jez and Olly
tuck in voraciously. Everything is slick and efficient; but reasonably relaxed
and not over-hasty or stressed. But..... time does not stop. Jez is looking a
little cosy and comfy on the bench. Fortunately I know him well enough to
basically say “Oi, you’ve been here 5 minutes; it’s time you got moving!” The
penny dropped. Quickly. Jez and Graham (and Olly ~ keen to keep on going, and
not miss out on anything) stride away up the long ascent of Munro number 14,
Sgurr Eilde Mor. We in the support team were in now in no hurry; job done; and
could watch their relentless c 45 minute ascent until they disappeared over the
skyline.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A leisurely 1 ½ hour walk back to the car, no
pressure on us (as long as we could get out through that locked gate). Back to
the HQ chalet in Glen Nevis where we could at last drink copious cups of tea,
guzzle flapjack, and follow progress on the online tracker. (That tracker was a
wonderful facility!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But time was marching on. Jez’s cushion on
the record seemed to be slipping. Mixed messages coming through; he seemed to
only have 3 minutes in hand on the record at the summit of the final Munro, the
Mullach. We go to the finish by the Youth Hostel; no longer having access to
the tracker. The rest of the world, following progress online, knows more than
we do. We wait. Anxiously. We’ll only actually see him approach for the final c
50 yards. The midges come out, and start biting. Part ‘n parcel of summer in
Scotland. Then Jez breezes into sight, grinning from ear to ear, closely
followed by support runners Jon and Graham. It’s in the bag. Phew! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">18:12. 11 minutes off Adrian Belton’s amazing
record that has stood since 1989. And no one has ever got near it in the
intervening 26 years. Today everything seemed to fall into place ~ the
remarkable weather window playing a major part; a great team; and a stellar
performance by Jez pulling out all the stops on the big day. What a
performance! A pleasure and a privilege to play a small part in it all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What’s next on the agenda..... ?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Charlie Ramsay: </i></b>Supported contenders will require the
services of a carefully selected support<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>hill crew, chosen for their suitability to support the contender whilst
on the round, they<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>are responsible for
pace setting , navigation, carrying equipment and generally keeping the
contender motivated and within the bounds of safety. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The round is divided into 3 key sections of
approx. equal distance that are comparatively easy to access. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Leg 1 (Start) Glen Nevis Youth Hostel to
Fersit Dam<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Leg 2 Fersit Dam to Loch Eilde Mor<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Leg 3 Loch EildeMor back to Glen Nevis Youth
Hostel (Finish)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Support runners would in normal circumstances
support a contender for 1 section only with the remaining sections managed by
additional support runners. The minimum support required per section would be 1
only.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The key to a successful attempt is a quick
change over of hill crew at these transition areas (T As)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>taking on board adequate refreshments,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>plus additional refreshments for use during<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that section, and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the disposal of non-required equipment to
include the uplifting of suitable equipment for the next section. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This is the where the Ground Crew come in.
They must have access to the contender’s schedule which will include arrival
and departure to and from the T A.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">They must make sure that they are at their T
A point and set up for the contender and support runners coming in, to
facilitate as smooth a change over as possible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Jez had scheduled a 4 min stop at each T A.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In addition, he had enlisted his wife Gemma
to be his lead ground support person for each section aided by Murdo McEwan and
Charlie Ramsay who worked as a team throughout.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One of the key elements of the challenge was
the weather forecasts, part of the planning was waiting for the correct
forecast, select a date and go. The start date was amended 4 times until we had
a perfect forecast, leading to a perfect outcome. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Gemma had spent ages prior to the start
ensuring that all the correct drop bags were in the right place at the right
time to ease the transitions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I felt that the team did an excellent job in
completing that role much to the satisfaction of both Jez and all of the
support runners the whole operation unfolded with military precision with the
minimum of effort and with maximum efficiency.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That exercise sits with the overall
fastidious attention to every aspect of the challenge over the past 2 years
leading up to the attempt, It highlights the level of preparation, practice and
planning that led to this remarkable performance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Well done Jez and all of the support crew, on
the hill and on the ground; it was such a pleasure to be part of such a great
with a fantastic outcome day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><u>Team thank you:</u></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There is only one way to close, and that's with the biggest, sincerest and most heart-felt thanks to the amazing team that made this whole thing possible. You helped make a crazy dream, a reality. Thank you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-28463332999993769702015-06-13T14:09:00.001+01:002015-06-13T14:09:36.761+01:00Ramsay's Round - a few initial thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ramsay_Round" target="_blank">Ramsay's Round</a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I knew it would be tight, but didn't quite imagine it would be <i>that</i> tight. Adrian Belton's record stood since 1989, and for very good reasons. It was a famously solid record illustrated by the fact that no one has really come close to threatening it in 26 years. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wasn't really sure I would be able to change that, but you don't know until you try, and I knew full well this could be my one and only opportunity to (a) complete a Ramsay Round, and (b) lay down a solid time. So I prepared a schedule to get me round a few minutes inside the record (shared only with my support team), and set off from Glen Nevis Youth Hostel at 0300hrs yesterday in near perfect conditions - blue skies and just a slight breeze on the tops. The opportunity was there.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was 20 minutes up after Leg 1 and feeling confident and in control, but the heat in the middle part of the day sapped my strength and chewed away at the 20 minutes to the extent that I was only on par with schedule at the end of Leg 2. No contingency time to play with at all, and some ambitious split times to achieve on the final Leg across Mamores involving 11 munros. It would be quite some battle to get the job done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As a result the intensity of the whole experience cranked up significantly on Leg 3 - I clawed back a few minutes here and there - but in reality I was right on the cusp and it could have gone either way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">With the margins so tight I kept thinking what it would feel like to miss out by a few minutes - it would be a difficult thing to live with. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I genuinely didn't know the record was achievable until the second half of the descent off the final summit, Mullach nan Coirean. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I've never thrown myself down a mountain so recklessly, but boy was it worth it. In training I ran the last split in just over 60mins, the schedule said 55mins, and we ran it in 49mins. That's what adrenaline does for you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I arrived back to the Youth Hostel and the record was mine - 18hrs 12mins - knocking 11mins off Adrian's time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's impossible to put into words the emotions involved in a run like that, and how it felt at the end. A huge relief obviously, but it was an experience so epic and dramatic that it's almost too much to digest. I guess in time that will happen and I will gain a bit more perspective, but all things considered it certainly feels like a real career highlight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I will put together a more detailed write up in the next few days along with some insights from my support guys, but for now I just want to say a massive thank you to my brilliant team who made it all possible:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Leg 1: Cam Burt, Chris Busby</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Leg 2: Olly Stephenson</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Leg 3: Jon Gay & Graham Nash</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Static Support: Gemma Bragg, Charlie Ramsay, Murdo McEwan & Anna Busby.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Selection of photos (Photo Credits: Olly Stephenson, Cameron Burt & Gemma Bragg)</span></div>
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Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-22222163982986877002015-06-11T17:02:00.000+01:002015-06-11T17:02:09.404+01:00Ramsay's Round <div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">High pressure across Scotland. Hello. It's taken a while, well two cancelled attempts and a slight re-schedule to be precise, but the weather and conditions are now looking good for a crack at</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><a href="http://www.ramsaysround.com/" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;" target="_blank">Ramsay's Round</a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> tomorrow. My start time is 0300hrs, Friday 12 June. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ramsay's Round is a 24 hour hill running challenge based around the Glen Nevis and Lochaber Mountains in the Scottish Highlands. It's probably not a concept many runners will be familiar with, but essentially it's the Scottish equivalent of the increasingly popular Bob Graham Round in the Lake District, and is a classic for sure. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Due to the rather drawn out Scottish winter this year, I've already had to postpone the attempt twice, now meaning it falls just a week before the <a href="http://www.dragonsbackrace.com/" target="_blank">Dragon's Back Race</a> ! Not ideal, but with all the hard work completed via numerous recce trips and setting up a brilliant support team to help - it's now or never. So I'm going for it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Highlands always offer such an epic day out - it's going to be one heck of an experience whatever happens.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will be starting at Glen Nevis Youth Hostel in the early hours, running the route clockwise, and will be aiming to complete in xx hours - you'll have to wait and see....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You can follow my progress <a href="http://maps.opentracking.co.uk/ramsey.cfm?n=2" target="_blank">here</a>. Thanks to the generous guys at <a href="http://www.opentracking.co.uk/" target="_blank">Open Tracking </a>for suppling the tracking facility. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That is likely to be the one and only way to follow given the lack of mobile data coverage up here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Enjoy following and I will enjoy running.</span></div>
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Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-30125551931863620612014-08-19T07:37:00.001+01:002014-08-19T07:37:12.234+01:00Tour du Monte Rosa. 08-10 August 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Having already completed
my annual weekend training run around the UTMB course, I decided on something
completely new for my final weekend of training before tapering starts. The
Tour du Monte Rosa (TMR) has been on radar for quite some time now, ever since
I stumbled across it’s signage on the Europaweg trail whilst fast packing the Chamonix
to Zermatt Walker's Haute Route a few summer’s back. The Europaweg is pretty
mind blowing in itself; a dramatic section of high level contouring trail that
defies logic given it’s perilous position. From this I had a strong sense the
TMR would be a great route to run and it certainly didn’t disappoint.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The TMR is much more low
key when compared to the Tour du Mont Blanc (TMB), and consequently the
information available on the route as a whole is fairly sparse. I got hold of
the Cicerone guide book and a route map from the map shop in Chamonix, but
there are several route variations between the two. I decided to stick with the
mapped route (a) because it seemed relatively ‘official’ and up to date, and (b) I didn’t want
to carry the guide book.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The overall distance and
elevation gain involved wasn’t 100% clear, but seemed to be around 100miles
with 10,000m of ascent / descent. It was however noticeable that a lot of the
running would be above 2,000m, and there were numerous passes over 2,800m as
well as climbs of 1,500m vertical ascent or more. A challenging route for sure.
The plan was to tackle the whole thing in 3 days starting and finishing in Saas
Fee and with overnight stops in Zermatt and Alagna. Easy hey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It didn’t prove too
difficult selling the idea to US team mate Mike a Foote who is over in Europe
training for UTMB. He was as excited as I was about using the route as an
excuse to explore new trails and escape the Chamonix hubbub. We met in Martigny
late on Thursday evening, stayed overnight in Brig before setting off from Saas
Fee on Friday morning after a relatively leisurely start.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I haven't been to Saas Fee
before, but it’s another one of the Zermatt style car free towns where you have
to park up on the outskirts and transfer in. Even the views from the sides of
the multi-story car park were pretty mind blowing and immediately raised the
excitement levels.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Saas Fee to Grachen was
the first leg, running the high-level balcony path known as Hohenweg. It's a
very well established section of trail averaging about 2,100m in height and
offering plenty of exposure. There are all sorts of impressive bits of Swiss
trail engineering to negotiate the glacial outflows, rocky outcrops and steep
valley sides the route traverses. It feels safe because it is clearly is so well
established, but you wouldn’t want to take your eye off the trail too long…</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiME2PK9_SZLps47usxAhBD4PdYmZoePPIRTZcxpHobeje5HIPyhqOhEny5t7-xfzoxPUgpNXhRXU26Vhws_CRz-dNc01SuL6wSmaA1Smo8OmKhi5zDoyqmnhVFXsSY8lxmZJg809b18U8F/s1600/P1030416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiME2PK9_SZLps47usxAhBD4PdYmZoePPIRTZcxpHobeje5HIPyhqOhEny5t7-xfzoxPUgpNXhRXU26Vhws_CRz-dNc01SuL6wSmaA1Smo8OmKhi5zDoyqmnhVFXsSY8lxmZJg809b18U8F/s1600/P1030416.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing around on the Hohenweg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgViQ8RsFmTU6m498ZxtM5AvmqQprPNou4ppb0XwhZ3cO__tS9JtYeVHHjVuBniYFeLjleACeqdjD69_yHvnszrQtlqEJxQhDhiP-kruN-sX66rImn98xMA8t2q5l6nSIX9lfaYhGIfOJbE/s1600/P1030418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgViQ8RsFmTU6m498ZxtM5AvmqQprPNou4ppb0XwhZ3cO__tS9JtYeVHHjVuBniYFeLjleACeqdjD69_yHvnszrQtlqEJxQhDhiP-kruN-sX66rImn98xMA8t2q5l6nSIX9lfaYhGIfOJbE/s1600/P1030418.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDH6FJ__whJBOL4aWFf7R7D8ICpjqzK5Yjwmr7JFZXatK2ZKJHMG5QrHhwhCqQalk8scEESKgBej0kjAJTnYYArPqGNlqycUrL5x040Nit-iLQEGfMZ5MhNcLKQiaAef0P1yHszyTOdOF/s1600/P1030427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDH6FJ__whJBOL4aWFf7R7D8ICpjqzK5Yjwmr7JFZXatK2ZKJHMG5QrHhwhCqQalk8scEESKgBej0kjAJTnYYArPqGNlqycUrL5x040Nit-iLQEGfMZ5MhNcLKQiaAef0P1yHszyTOdOF/s1600/P1030427.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foote on a northern section of the Hohenweg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZSDr16DWhMYULUGe3afsa3zdKc5jPwdoaWemQnCyV6ivvFROPySRVsblPlc4Laq9lJtqqxWPbapSss6x4kph8yJBRyqjFsI5U-gwAWWL7Hy8t7TwnC9CGJztRHEzhvzehxb0DGFsWNlU/s1600/P1030428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZSDr16DWhMYULUGe3afsa3zdKc5jPwdoaWemQnCyV6ivvFROPySRVsblPlc4Laq9lJtqqxWPbapSss6x4kph8yJBRyqjFsI5U-gwAWWL7Hy8t7TwnC9CGJztRHEzhvzehxb0DGFsWNlU/s1600/P1030428.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me on the Hohenweg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Hohenweg provided a great
overview of the Saastal valley before we turned to enter the Mattertal valley, which
then leads into Europaweg. Grachen was our first taste of civilization, and
being a Swiss village, of course it really is. The only negative being it was
lunchtime and the shops were shut. It was naive of me to walk into the local patisserie,
the only food option to be found open, and enquire about gluten free options.
Cue puzzled look from the assistant; that’d be a ‘no’ then.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">From Grachen it's good
pull to get up on to the Europaweg trail, and it tops out at over 2,600m, but
plentiful visual distractions make the leg work more than worthwhile. There is
even a EU flag to mark the start! That confused me a little being in Switzerland
but I shall avoid any politics. The Mattertal valley below seemed a very, very long
way down - which it is - but there are numerous 4,000m summits all around to
feast your eyes on and keep you looking up. The trail is also somewhat precipitous in places,
traversing live boulder fields and scree slopes. From afar these sections frequently
look impassable, but aren’t quite so bad on closer inspection and provide a bit
of fun when conditions are dry, as they were. The red and white painted markers
to guide you across are excellent, but almost certainly the boulder fields
would be a different proposition in poor visibility. It was never fast going, the
trails often being technical and bouldery, but that made it all feel a lot more
natural than TMB.</span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hGvTYUhzVrAesDYZ1axBMn5NzYgmhwNnczszoTT7MeaJ1H6-XfoeDTGYxBGzZeQsOomYgd2LIGOiTBHdnrOc3gjuut91ZUvy3puthiCFR_qzeh6UBt039txzsZ9PKSbv9o6sPAnZIvAD/s1600/P1030441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hGvTYUhzVrAesDYZ1axBMn5NzYgmhwNnczszoTT7MeaJ1H6-XfoeDTGYxBGzZeQsOomYgd2LIGOiTBHdnrOc3gjuut91ZUvy3puthiCFR_qzeh6UBt039txzsZ9PKSbv9o6sPAnZIvAD/s1600/P1030441.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foote on Europaweg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2e-t_kAw-eyxhWtKUDj0LuF5S2Xo5MI1NP8TfS0TDxCKCKG1RXNbYtUJMazJnEFh0ouvw88llVqOAQF8t5cntesz6fC2AD7_TcfQww4F8ierx57LzLJz-I6Nucnp9BIkZ9ONp-dv5cfsT/s1600/P1030442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2e-t_kAw-eyxhWtKUDj0LuF5S2Xo5MI1NP8TfS0TDxCKCKG1RXNbYtUJMazJnEFh0ouvw88llVqOAQF8t5cntesz6fC2AD7_TcfQww4F8ierx57LzLJz-I6Nucnp9BIkZ9ONp-dv5cfsT/s1600/P1030442.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foote and I on the Europaweg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtT3U-UI3-P4Ey4SelP4dVJK0OFCHyLUVTM2kmVd050AE7OoymD8a_U-e_g6G7lsVW0rsFVq64JyyZ7Xbf3ekQrcclTGgj5PodiiI8JCBu-4NJjRJBYvZ2H66fUN-uNkCSNTBDosWi5JVu/s1600/P1030448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtT3U-UI3-P4Ey4SelP4dVJK0OFCHyLUVTM2kmVd050AE7OoymD8a_U-e_g6G7lsVW0rsFVq64JyyZ7Xbf3ekQrcclTGgj5PodiiI8JCBu-4NJjRJBYvZ2H66fUN-uNkCSNTBDosWi5JVu/s1600/P1030448.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awesome Swiss engineering!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our opening 'easy' day,
wasn't all that easy, so it was good to finally arrive in Zermatt at the head
of the valley, and the foot of the famous Matterhorn, unfortunately concealed
by a blanket of cloud. Refueling was high on the agenda, as was a good night’s
sleep in preparation for a long middle day that would take us through to Alagna in
Italy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The mixed forecast had
been an ongoing cause for concern leading into the trip, particularly given the
minimal kit and clothing we were carrying for the 3 days – basically our UTMB
compulsory kit. Day two would start with a 1,700m climb over the glaciated Theodulo
Pass topping out at 3,317m. Heavy rain at any point would almost certainly
necessitate a wait-out at a refuge, and probably a high degree of cold and
suffering! It rained heavily overnight, but eased for our departure from
Zermatt, although it was still damp and grey at 7am when we made our way out of
town and back on to the trail. Wouldn’t a lie-in and a leisurely breakfast be a
little more sensible?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6M46UMW3Vqc8tokEqagPeVtnx-RHfIxjU_Kym1bGFAqJWVelRmiMS5iK-aK1YWNRrJwU-ugKz0L8XcBtCfmPHzbxE53nTIIyYqUJVM6ZyiNKuyBhc_HY4Uk96VP7YKwTXHBIFQKmjC9j/s1600/P1030457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6M46UMW3Vqc8tokEqagPeVtnx-RHfIxjU_Kym1bGFAqJWVelRmiMS5iK-aK1YWNRrJwU-ugKz0L8XcBtCfmPHzbxE53nTIIyYqUJVM6ZyiNKuyBhc_HY4Uk96VP7YKwTXHBIFQKmjC9j/s1600/P1030457.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foote on the climb out of Zermatt</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKMC3by5t7OiMD_LJmo3SgDwefDXaNutNta58S-Asro1S9M-7c0EpdYVTSFkvdONq9boMEvgFTmR-6roTbpjfiwEkvzx-6-GhVxxApxAP8HnXX6ybsXuflE36o9TEhiGd2zbIYAjTGjFs/s1600/P1030461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKMC3by5t7OiMD_LJmo3SgDwefDXaNutNta58S-Asro1S9M-7c0EpdYVTSFkvdONq9boMEvgFTmR-6roTbpjfiwEkvzx-6-GhVxxApxAP8HnXX6ybsXuflE36o9TEhiGd2zbIYAjTGjFs/s1600/P1030461.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving the rain behind in Zermatt</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We maintained a sense of humor
despite the glum weather, and our patience was quickly rewarded as the rain
eased and we caught glimpses of blue skies towards the top of the climb. At
around 2,800m we caught out first view of the summit section of the Matterhorn
through the parting clouds and we literally jumped with joy!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjys_l5eBqptWboE13kIvsbgh73pBjT2FnFdiQOjDpVkgcXs1CpyBzU9HI2QibEdSRIAszaBs7I1SiOHz3e3THRiXJjtc1EXAXDKjpJP01uiDSFQA5y0VkA-cjJA7UgJ68cqhn5bbJas5/s1600/P1030464.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjys_l5eBqptWboE13kIvsbgh73pBjT2FnFdiQOjDpVkgcXs1CpyBzU9HI2QibEdSRIAszaBs7I1SiOHz3e3THRiXJjtc1EXAXDKjpJP01uiDSFQA5y0VkA-cjJA7UgJ68cqhn5bbJas5/s1600/P1030464.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Matterhorn revealing itself. Me getting excited….</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0fsxZDdDuL7sfbUnyFGioXbItm2y1zhnjg2g0rpka9zzwUtJD4LIjjwgNXdzR7dB3mTg7O0RzrscP8v4kB8MEUDJNWzWlz3hlWTZiE0vDGhBqHUzEfiRouggfuyOrvc7d1fGV5iWuhFff/s1600/P1030477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0fsxZDdDuL7sfbUnyFGioXbItm2y1zhnjg2g0rpka9zzwUtJD4LIjjwgNXdzR7dB3mTg7O0RzrscP8v4kB8MEUDJNWzWlz3hlWTZiE0vDGhBqHUzEfiRouggfuyOrvc7d1fGV5iWuhFff/s1600/P1030477.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gandegghutte (3,029m)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was still chilly up
high, particularly after an early soaking, but moving across the glaciated pass
somewhat swiftly kept us warm enough, and the novelty of running uphill on snow
became a welcome distraction. We eventually reached the Refugio del Theodulo
perched right on the pass, straddling the Switzerland / Italy border, before
descending an un-glaciated south facing snow slope to reach the grey moraine
filled bowl of the upper Cervinia ski resort. Foote was a happy man to have
crossed into Italy; the thought of pizza, espresso and warmer restaurant
service was a real motivation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_aL98obUNMMlv6Je8RpxOxSswj9EyXLWyHJOnmNv5zhTqI582PPt1KJsnpbn5sisdwxm32DuMAkcFFp44aP3k9yrTk7Fe8jEQu6CXTpEWp8_5wu8d8rYg_TznZAwq_plN5Yq-8-B06E0/s1600/P1030481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_aL98obUNMMlv6Je8RpxOxSswj9EyXLWyHJOnmNv5zhTqI582PPt1KJsnpbn5sisdwxm32DuMAkcFFp44aP3k9yrTk7Fe8jEQu6CXTpEWp8_5wu8d8rYg_TznZAwq_plN5Yq-8-B06E0/s1600/P1030481.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Cervinia ski area</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A short (relative) descent
and then re-ascent took us over Col Cimme Bianche, and then down past the
beautiful turquoise Gran Lago, before a fine trail took us along a hanging valley past old farming settlements and into the ancient hamlet of Resy. It was fascinating to read up on the history
of this area afterwards; these inhospitable high valleys providing a summer
home to farmers and their livestock for many years. Farming at this height (2,400m plus) with
such limited access must have been a real challenge, even just for the summer
months.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguB-bwhOeAEezQP_G6MOolpJc7PO1-a2XFRf8MrwvdDu8l9IA9R3Qx-nX9fzynNiQoi_R97uiwhSCEqE5ssj1lQBEGXAHN-6LARvMG_KF6XfRFAbgBp6N8QJ4Nasm3RMoWwtWLIw5DqWn9/s1600/P1030490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguB-bwhOeAEezQP_G6MOolpJc7PO1-a2XFRf8MrwvdDu8l9IA9R3Qx-nX9fzynNiQoi_R97uiwhSCEqE5ssj1lQBEGXAHN-6LARvMG_KF6XfRFAbgBp6N8QJ4Nasm3RMoWwtWLIw5DqWn9/s1600/P1030490.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vallone di Verra before Resy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijb5s0mqavQOj9ZutzUGx5nohmRwoo7kttiqdt6AwG7wiz1YZM_kRwCxBP3O_4dStmxjSBOi82W1FLdf6y7Lz5NLlddfiTWg5KHQIyYHKgTSP3oCoodWEhugClhk-Idd0fnVFvC1CM7i7W/s1600/P1030491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijb5s0mqavQOj9ZutzUGx5nohmRwoo7kttiqdt6AwG7wiz1YZM_kRwCxBP3O_4dStmxjSBOi82W1FLdf6y7Lz5NLlddfiTWg5KHQIyYHKgTSP3oCoodWEhugClhk-Idd0fnVFvC1CM7i7W/s1600/P1030491.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The polenta feast at Refuge Ferraro, Resy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now starting to feel a
little depleted I insisted on a proper lunch at the next refuge - Refuge
Ferraro in Resy. Polenta was menu of the day, and it was suitably fine, with the
portions generous and runner-friendly. Happy days. The afternoon would bring
two more hefty passes, taking us up to 2,672m and 2,880m respectively. Running in
and amongst the clouds provided real atmosphere, depth and constantly ‘teasing’
views. The first pass was Colle di Bettaforca and was the more straight forward
of the two. We didn’t dwell in Stafal, the valley bottom village between the two climbs, but
marched straight into Col d’Olen at 2,880m.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Col d'Olen - great cloud display</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The whole the of the final
descent was in the cloud, possibly not a bad thing, concealing the 1,700 metres
of downhill running before we were done for the night. We seemed to go a little astray
in our route choice into Alagna, but it took us down in a fairly direct manner,
so mattered little. In the end even singletrack connoisseur Foote was happy to
cruise down a vehicle track despite it being boring and gently graded. Running
hard downhill for over an hour was certainly ideal preparation for UTMB. The
rustic village of Alagna was our overnight stop for the night, and offered
excellent local Italian cuisine and lodging – certainly a place to go on the
list for a return visit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHKTAgy53b5lzGrrsNSTICYamO2NY3ZCixrKfr7TynNUwmaVtXirRYxch9xWoYFKT8NDVVUXH2f5ZnAY9NksD_MEC65DWuaqj04ybzw50jy1ehoU6R6KYnEyn2NsO79EpF_VAYW0XEJJT/s1600/P1030509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHKTAgy53b5lzGrrsNSTICYamO2NY3ZCixrKfr7TynNUwmaVtXirRYxch9xWoYFKT8NDVVUXH2f5ZnAY9NksD_MEC65DWuaqj04ybzw50jy1ehoU6R6KYnEyn2NsO79EpF_VAYW0XEJJT/s1600/P1030509.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had company in the mist descending to Alagna</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The final day involved a
mere two passes, but both involving ascent of c. 1,600m so not to be under
estimated. I was unsure how long the final day would take, but what I did know
was that I needed leave Saas Fee in the hire car by 4pm at the latest to ensure
I made it to Geneva Airport in time for my Sunday night flight back to London. There’s
nothing like a deadline to help focus the mind. Experience on the route
suggested it would be relatively slow going, so I conservatively planned for a
6.30am start. It was too early for a hotel breakfast, so a banana and no
caffeine it had to be.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDT0buIORxB_F_HXECQkwP-gX0C_Swfdb44P6NlhSSLgm9m1EocJ0PW8u_ueheS8iYBk83C4ua_Qh2kjZLmmfz8mL07MwRrd3tMRUrRuOheB0v3yXxb6mSlEQe9ONqwPJuTPK1N577GYF/s1600/P1030511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDT0buIORxB_F_HXECQkwP-gX0C_Swfdb44P6NlhSSLgm9m1EocJ0PW8u_ueheS8iYBk83C4ua_Qh2kjZLmmfz8mL07MwRrd3tMRUrRuOheB0v3yXxb6mSlEQe9ONqwPJuTPK1N577GYF/s1600/P1030511.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving Alagna behind on the climb up Colle del Turlo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first climb followed
an impressive flag stoned vehicle-width track over the famous Colle Del Turlo.
The grading was gentle making it a little too drawn out for my liking, but it
is a real marvel of historic trail engineering. It has clearly been an
important trading route for many years, something you can’t help but ponder as
you gradually work your way up. In many places it is even retained and built up
on dry stone walls, and is near perfectly intact, again a testimony to the
quality of it’s original construction. The top of the pass was again cloud covered
so it was a shame to miss out on the views, but I was grateful to start a
descent.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8NxzWisnrzQ_ogMMJVyOEg0Jk4M9BZT2k5N1SqVn4LgtcrGbOjg5x219Ty9m5CvEhjRNSuufVtgiNo_krcLuCx44maXcyI0X8wG7JoibSHmjvFsXMoNkr2jz_ItMr9D2fn7PaQL92RS1J/s1600/P1030515.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8NxzWisnrzQ_ogMMJVyOEg0Jk4M9BZT2k5N1SqVn4LgtcrGbOjg5x219Ty9m5CvEhjRNSuufVtgiNo_krcLuCx44maXcyI0X8wG7JoibSHmjvFsXMoNkr2jz_ItMr9D2fn7PaQL92RS1J/s1600/P1030515.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colle del Turlo (2,738m). Picnic anyone?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There were quite a few
lingering snow patches on the north facing upper part of the descent, but they
soon disappeared and I could settle into around 1,500m of descent and a section
along the Valle Quarazza took me to the popular tourist village of Macugnaga. The local
shop there offered plenty of options for a late breakfast and a good refuel which I knew
would be required to get me over the final pass. I got some strange looks as I
wolfed down a tin of peaches and a pot of yoghurt whilst sat in the village
square watching the Sunday morning world go by.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then straight back up
1,700m to the final pass of Monte Moropass (2,868m) and back into Switzerland
at last. No less impressive, this pass is complete with a gold Madonna statue
and various bits of handrails and walk ways to help the traverse of big slabs
of rock that form the pass itself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxHy9vuKVBc8n2n4NgE46I097vY_Esni77Q42DjHGrY0LBc-4_uSQ5zf0qscC1t-d86ubL1BXxls2pq-UyWkVHh95rtQjfTMbYYn31FVlIhFN4pGIlRY4RqT6quF2qYF3XHyTnLcs4xnvU/s1600/P1030518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxHy9vuKVBc8n2n4NgE46I097vY_Esni77Q42DjHGrY0LBc-4_uSQ5zf0qscC1t-d86ubL1BXxls2pq-UyWkVHh95rtQjfTMbYYn31FVlIhFN4pGIlRY4RqT6quF2qYF3XHyTnLcs4xnvU/s1600/P1030518.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggGzVIpO2vEozybqm8hKmrmFJFO5J10ZE0_islOascD93_Ap335YapEi6uoFvMxejjHiQPngWgeF3WLA6Wl6Hj4aiP-10A_uZjWsDk5rBKBrR0tEC6OqazJS8kWj49eFUI88mBSazJED35/s1600/P1030517.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggGzVIpO2vEozybqm8hKmrmFJFO5J10ZE0_islOascD93_Ap335YapEi6uoFvMxejjHiQPngWgeF3WLA6Wl6Hj4aiP-10A_uZjWsDk5rBKBrR0tEC6OqazJS8kWj49eFUI88mBSazJED35/s1600/P1030517.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The golden Madonna statue on Monte Moro at 2,868m!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Time was certainly getting on by now, so I had to
keep moving quickly on the descent to Mattertal Lake and then round the valley
corner back to Saas Fee. I managed to move well despite another 10 hour day,
and was relieved to have made an early start. Around the lake there were
tourists abound, getting bus transfers up from the Saastal Valley. It soon hit
home how much solitude and great alpine running I had enjoyed along the way,
despite several sections through unsightly ski resorts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYbP7MVRlLNwBOWERBxRJz6UHHHgma315m5YbmJFQ7aJd0kZhRFUBYZ9bwKrWLdrSNvzUzK8hXuggyfK3gGV5yUrweX-1v_SRuQrm4GY9h-g93pm6YXHaAIeiQsMqNjDqdq4pt6ZoRzHC/s1600/P1030519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYbP7MVRlLNwBOWERBxRJz6UHHHgma315m5YbmJFQ7aJd0kZhRFUBYZ9bwKrWLdrSNvzUzK8hXuggyfK3gGV5yUrweX-1v_SRuQrm4GY9h-g93pm6YXHaAIeiQsMqNjDqdq4pt6ZoRzHC/s1600/P1030519.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final descent towards Mattmark & Saas Almafell / Saas Fee</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The views of the many
surrounding 4,000m+ peaks unfortunately hadn’t been very frequent due to the
cloud, but somehow the constantly changing skies had really added to the
atmosphere of being high up in the mountains. It’s a route that must be respected
when travelling fast and light, and I would generally advise on allotting a
little more time. But despite it’s fast-pace, it was certainly a weekend to
remember and ideal preparation for UTMB.</span></div>
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Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-26999140290221519522014-07-31T08:15:00.002+01:002014-07-31T08:15:28.096+01:00UTMB - Training on the Course. 25-27 July 2014<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KApR99HGTNpVC3gmxuHfwkMOe7fGwfPjHcSNo5A0Xle9qkbbz_No6YvlVGZSrGwrXaJItUD81bnPtLOxPLJ234vFhzi3Yax829UX18CVI_7u5KeeoScjqD9ZLGnpAh9gWqysQ95lGy7D/s1600/P1030353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KApR99HGTNpVC3gmxuHfwkMOe7fGwfPjHcSNo5A0Xle9qkbbz_No6YvlVGZSrGwrXaJItUD81bnPtLOxPLJ234vFhzi3Yax829UX18CVI_7u5KeeoScjqD9ZLGnpAh9gWqysQ95lGy7D/s1600/P1030353.JPG" height="134" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mont Blanc massif, from Arete Mont Favre, Italy</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Breaking news – the passes haven’t got any lower or less numerous and the trails no smoother – UTMB is still an absolute beast of a course! So nothing new there, but an important part of the process is putting those thoughts about the difficulty of the course right to the front of your mind to help with mental preparation for the race. It’s such a crucial aspect in this game, right?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One of my favourite weekends
of the year is training with friends on the UTMB course. I’ve found it’s the
best way of preparing for this mighty race – getting out on the course and running
the whole lot in 3 days around 5 weeks out from the race. Good for the leg
strength and good for the mind.<span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I’ve had a fairly solid stint
of training off the back off Western States at the end of June, and I’m now
very much in a peak spell to get the long ‘hill’ days in and really start
tuning up. As previous years my plan evolves around several long weekends with
back-to-back long days, providing a great excuse to check out some cool new
routes. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last weekend in The Cairngorms
was simply magical, but I was still feeling energetic enough to run 105 miles
around Mont Blanc in 3 days over the weekend just gone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So back in Chamonix for the
first time in a year – déjà vu. Even just being in Chamonix triggers all sorts
of different emotions and memories, all UTMB related of course, and lots of
good ones. Preparing for another run around the great mountain always brings a
sense of anxiety through the challenge involved, and the unknowns the mountains
often bring. It’s never easy, but the appeal is always there. No matter how
many times I make the journey the sense of accomplishment never diminishes. The
appeal is not only in achieving a complete circumnavigation of such a symbolic
mountain, but to experience a journey that absorbs so much culture and visual
delight that it’s hard to put it into words. Put simply, it’s always a great
experience.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We had a stellar line-up for
this year’s training weekend with the whole The North Face EU team present as
well as Rory Bosio & Mike Foote from the US, and our Italian friends
Gustavo, Pierro & Carlo. A real international and eclectic bunch, all
brought together by a shared passion. Brilliant.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We ran, we ate and we
generally had a lot of fun.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are several traditions
to the weekend which were maintained in quite some style. Like a long first day
from Chamonix to Cormayeur (78km) with a ridiculously early start. There were
still a few people walking home from a night out when Gemma and I departed Chamonix
town centre at 4.25am! I accompanied Gemma for day one, as she is running UTMB
for the first time and doesn’t know the first part of the route through to
Cormayeur. With Foote also with us for spells of day one too, they were both excited about running sections
of the course in daylight for the first time, it brought back memories of when
I did so for the first time – quite a while ago! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Then a stop-off to see
Jacquemout at his rustic refuge Col Checroit / Maison Vieulle located before the
descent to Cormayeur for some relentless hospitality and warm humour. Have you
ever seen a spaghetti sandwich before…? On day two we finished at Leon’s
patisserie in Champex-Lac to sample some pretty darn fine fruit tart. My waistline
was again saved by my gluten intolerance. These proprietors are amazingly
passionate about the race from their distant part of the course – in Italy and
Switzerland respectively – different countries to the hosts in France. It says
it all about how this race brings people and communities together.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One new introduction to the
weekend was a run over Fenetre d’Arpette<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>at c.2,665m, the alternative, but still official, route to Bovine. It was
a last minute decision that Mike and I took, and it turned out to be the
highlight of the weekend – the year – possibly one of the most enjoyable bits
of trail running we’ve ever experienced. We ended up on the narrow and dramatic
pass above fluffy white clouds, surrounded by rock, snow and blue skies. The
photos don’t really do it justice, but take it from me, we were grinning from
ear to ear. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Day three ended as it always
does outside The North Face store in Chamonix. Running with Mike on the last
day, I joked we might get emotional on returning to Chamonix. Of course you do
in the race, because this route and the race can't fail to trigger emotions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A quick shower and a bite to
eat in Chamonix and before we knew it we were soon making our way back to the
airport for a late flight back to London ready for work on Monday morning. A
shock to the system to say the least, but another memorable weekend training for UTMB in the bag.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4xJSZW5YSTaNkOhQVPjHjgOqWl37fIR1xUKM7kSrtJwykK8AL5v7Mk81NIZ16S7ObKX5Q8ZRyCYhpF8voKUbug_qEFZOdYemY_vosKDWTUsQjE7d33m6MQY4QnFWDTuhyphenhyphen2LZSdtf_oskA/s1600/P1030314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4xJSZW5YSTaNkOhQVPjHjgOqWl37fIR1xUKM7kSrtJwykK8AL5v7Mk81NIZ16S7ObKX5Q8ZRyCYhpF8voKUbug_qEFZOdYemY_vosKDWTUsQjE7d33m6MQY4QnFWDTuhyphenhyphen2LZSdtf_oskA/s1600/P1030314.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdTiUH5-w1PIfjElJDfPi-BoiU0op5pu9TuqAX9aZmtMqNb-FacaSrBfrNDVhbKux1LCTjY2IVzNuyGHbUxQfX4f6gNS8ncQ2VtzlRAUXLemFwQvXxAG5VznaljMKlyjm1d2C-5NiTpVj/s1600/P1030325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdTiUH5-w1PIfjElJDfPi-BoiU0op5pu9TuqAX9aZmtMqNb-FacaSrBfrNDVhbKux1LCTjY2IVzNuyGHbUxQfX4f6gNS8ncQ2VtzlRAUXLemFwQvXxAG5VznaljMKlyjm1d2C-5NiTpVj/s1600/P1030325.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gemma on the final section to Col du Bonhomme, looking back towards Les Contamines & Saint Gervais</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJDe5bVhmg7c4M98Qd1uMNxg3TSa6MzsFHTM5cC8k7maBXjGRLcERHwOwiTq2fnZzqwcJ8BkRcua8K_dy8jKeT2UJC4bLfUx8yCtwG4lHUtnXGV3TbBfspzIpj0bVwL5vquXhzxAN0RRU/s1600/P1030333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJDe5bVhmg7c4M98Qd1uMNxg3TSa6MzsFHTM5cC8k7maBXjGRLcERHwOwiTq2fnZzqwcJ8BkRcua8K_dy8jKeT2UJC4bLfUx8yCtwG4lHUtnXGV3TbBfspzIpj0bVwL5vquXhzxAN0RRU/s1600/P1030333.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgXy0oLuyMFi_m63nYlXgCGOC40fU9chVDpMDPSRjQwXiH_ioiBsXS8BGs8nQuEM512icBN0R7rWnZgw8VU8Kocfdt5EqeVehDacwhQ1990SSyFaE49NPykQ4a_pLB2yK4Jf6WmGGRs2r/s1600/P1030367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgXy0oLuyMFi_m63nYlXgCGOC40fU9chVDpMDPSRjQwXiH_ioiBsXS8BGs8nQuEM512icBN0R7rWnZgw8VU8Kocfdt5EqeVehDacwhQ1990SSyFaE49NPykQ4a_pLB2yK4Jf6WmGGRs2r/s1600/P1030367.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Val Ferret from near the top of Grand Col du Ferret (Italy)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyTepfGwCoYG3_Q2SdkBB0vD_dAtJTVgtle-7Eo2BkJoODBWvATurmMvQl3GEO8NjAnehQNTAdupNfeEyw5ziruTmarcUarGBoANObJ6PS-wMIv-HZvYV5bYnch1SSJMWguxcaWuStfRo/s1600/P1030370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyTepfGwCoYG3_Q2SdkBB0vD_dAtJTVgtle-7Eo2BkJoODBWvATurmMvQl3GEO8NjAnehQNTAdupNfeEyw5ziruTmarcUarGBoANObJ6PS-wMIv-HZvYV5bYnch1SSJMWguxcaWuStfRo/s1600/P1030370.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of the Grand Col. Couldn't see a flaming thing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYTXza2s28wq_SCd_irFMB5StFLHOROMNAYFJh7LvoHh7UCyF248sYn30CT2_M28P0D4WrSyl1DQe-VvAKtWcuntj7GaQsIRi5zKpwtOG_y0HBMGCxncMHsttrqrtJ-3g_yhUldG_Zl6rR/s1600/P1030377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYTXza2s28wq_SCd_irFMB5StFLHOROMNAYFJh7LvoHh7UCyF248sYn30CT2_M28P0D4WrSyl1DQe-VvAKtWcuntj7GaQsIRi5zKpwtOG_y0HBMGCxncMHsttrqrtJ-3g_yhUldG_Zl6rR/s1600/P1030377.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the team, just before leaving Champex on the last day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7_712IaFwQleinJ_fCD5ojbUya2fRBhlCp_2t6B9ybaR9qXDR8EwY1W9dAB6FoUaTBhEFZKdEYEDAwEAIqcIv0n7RnMjHwRASrrkYXiZSigCd0serWokItdDfcm3RTKRxA327rFFeAEo/s1600/P1030383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7_712IaFwQleinJ_fCD5ojbUya2fRBhlCp_2t6B9ybaR9qXDR8EwY1W9dAB6FoUaTBhEFZKdEYEDAwEAIqcIv0n7RnMjHwRASrrkYXiZSigCd0serWokItdDfcm3RTKRxA327rFFeAEo/s1600/P1030383.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views ascending Fenetre d'Arpette</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLOg5u-MW3Q8OGnvGqK4h_cPxAjfysJkVeHX-3fzosYd8XPWoMDFX_Kh6TawipgNml4NuRpjnp6Ncr28gauWoYNU8kisp6TaqugKqmHQ0Wnwslu8Ns2aANAfPd3Ula9ywvBfhIQpaJqy8/s1600/Fenetre+d'Arpette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLOg5u-MW3Q8OGnvGqK4h_cPxAjfysJkVeHX-3fzosYd8XPWoMDFX_Kh6TawipgNml4NuRpjnp6Ncr28gauWoYNU8kisp6TaqugKqmHQ0Wnwslu8Ns2aANAfPd3Ula9ywvBfhIQpaJqy8/s1600/Fenetre+d'Arpette.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Final climb to Fenetre d'Arpette (photo credit: Mike Foote)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRiSk5dcF37bopy0SIQTi_UlrHdBHAmKVfSe4pQH-NP-hyXVVf-r-zG0EQChBdqd7tq9JKsiYlRFVGJiyZ1DxRCBTABuWW5vrM7vrH6uaXWbj7LALNB026RYM4kmBIOFiGb2suK3Gm73fL/s1600/P1030393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRiSk5dcF37bopy0SIQTi_UlrHdBHAmKVfSe4pQH-NP-hyXVVf-r-zG0EQChBdqd7tq9JKsiYlRFVGJiyZ1DxRCBTABuWW5vrM7vrH6uaXWbj7LALNB026RYM4kmBIOFiGb2suK3Gm73fL/s1600/P1030393.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foote & I at the top of Fenetre d'Arpette</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimc5WIHWps4lE_6boO3fhpVC2x9mnCrjl1Nghl5JDxstI1FsYM06VNL_z7hlQEkJe2HbAOqtpyZMpnIDoYTuoZggzWOdmq_TOZwKyYuv4an6aDS0-Xp8CcgM4U7NHuAVO8xWH7m37YmNWi/s1600/P1030401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimc5WIHWps4lE_6boO3fhpVC2x9mnCrjl1Nghl5JDxstI1FsYM06VNL_z7hlQEkJe2HbAOqtpyZMpnIDoYTuoZggzWOdmq_TOZwKyYuv4an6aDS0-Xp8CcgM4U7NHuAVO8xWH7m37YmNWi/s1600/P1030401.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chamonix - finished</td></tr>
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Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-11244507701714240132014-07-24T08:54:00.000+01:002014-07-24T09:25:55.590+01:00Rigby Round Fast-Pack, The Cairngorms: 19-20 July 2014<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Well, nearly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I had a great outing in The Cairngorms last weekend,
deciding last minute to take the sleeper train up to Aviemore and have a go at
a fast-packing a bunch of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munro" target="_blank">Munros</a> as part of my training for UTMB. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cairngorms" target="_blank">The Cairngorms</a>
are famous for forming the highest continuous mountain plateaux in the British
Isles with five of the six highest mountains in Scotland. It’s an area of
Scotland I’ve spent very little time exploring, particularly from the western
side, so I thought it would provide an ideal location for a weekend challenge. I
then stumbled across the <a href="http://www.gofar.eclipse.co.uk/cairngormmunros.html" target="_blank">Rigby Round</a>, a continuous circuit of all the Munros in
the Cairngorms – 18 in total – devised by Mark Rigby in the late 80’s. There
are a number famous ‘rounds’ in the UK, and many more less so. This is
definitely on the less-well-known end of the scale, so appealed in that sense,
but also appeared to offer a suitable degree of challenge.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After a busy week at work I caught the Friday night sleeper
train from London Euston to Aviemore which got me right on location very
efficiently despite a rather miserable night’s sleep due to the air
conditioning being defective on the train. It was a humid 31</span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">°</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">C in London, and Garmin told me the temperature was
exactly the same in the sleeping berth! My protestations to train staff fell on
deaf ears, the response effectively being like it or lump it. I certainly wasn’t
about to do an about turn for a reason like that - there would be far more significant
challenges to overcome over the course of the weekend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Arriving in Aviemore at 7.40am Saturday morning I grabbed a
taxi to the start point for the round at Loch Morlich Youth Hostel in Glenmore.
It’s only about 6 miles to the east of Aviemore – I know, what a wimp – but
with the relatively late start it would be tight getting anywhere near half way
round on day one as it was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The route is quoted as being around 75miles with 6,000
metres of ascent/ descent, but it obviously depends on your precise route
choice and method of recording the stats. I aimed to complete the round in two
days, with an overnight camp between. Previous completions – and there really
aren’t that many – have gone continuously targeting sub 24 hours. I was
adopting the route, not any time goal, and given the hefty load I was carrying,
you will appreciate my aim was building strength for UTMB as opposed to flying
round to set a record. I was travelling ‘tortoise style’, carrying everything I
needed to be self sufficient for a 36 hour period, including; sleeping system,
stove, food, clothing and all the usual navigation and safety paraphernalia for
long solo days accross remote terrain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Whilst I did feel a little weigh-laid by the amount of kit I
was carrying, I also drew comfort from the fact that if the weather really did get
bad – the forecast wasn’t that great at all – I could just get the tent set up
and wait for it to pass through. In the end it was fairly consistent all day; a
stiff wind on the tops, plenty of clag (mist) on the tops above 800 metres
(that would be for the majority of the day then) and persistent misty rain.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKUv-WvIN5ctmyBekXSDcdJ8s8bbBFjUFQo-hLWqZ_LNaLgM5nge4XiETRvezRtXQhYdA8qnnELfxZ78KN8iiGW99ViaJbxYK43jI1WUiUkuMx1Rb2jW9TJcAltLch2nzpRIh2dsFhmKLD/s1600/P1030242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKUv-WvIN5ctmyBekXSDcdJ8s8bbBFjUFQo-hLWqZ_LNaLgM5nge4XiETRvezRtXQhYdA8qnnELfxZ78KN8iiGW99ViaJbxYK43jI1WUiUkuMx1Rb2jW9TJcAltLch2nzpRIh2dsFhmKLD/s1600/P1030242.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lairig Ghru; clag ahead!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I went anti-clockwise, heading in to my first summit via
Rothiermurchus Lodge and the Lairig Ghru. </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Braeriach</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">
was the first summit and, once into the main part of the ascent, I could see
barely 50 metres in any direction. The compass and GPS became a lifeline when
picking a line around the head of Loch Enich to Sgor Gaoith and negotiating
some rather disorientating ground around the Wells of Dee (I assume the source
of the River Dee). The 2</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">nd</sup><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> and 3</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">rd</sup><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> summits formed a
triangle, so at Loch nan Cnapan I dumped my pack to move quicker.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There was a brief spell of around an hour when the
visibility was better enabling some glimpsing views from the top of </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sgor Gaoith</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> and then to pick a direct
line across to </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mullach Clach a’Bhlair</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">,
a rather insignificant hill which you would probably ignore unless you were box
ticking like I was. A rather unsightly land rover track then allowed a fast
traverse to collect my pack again, and then a return to the trudging with a
long and rough contour around the western flanks of Monadh Moor to reach the
col before </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Beinn Bhrotain</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. Again, I
could ditch my pack for a quicker out and back, before following the ridge-line
north and over the summit of </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Monadh Moor</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">.
With a lot of the lines connecting groups of hills in this round, the route was
often rough and slow and there were few trods to latch on to. I lost count of
the number of ptarmigan and arctic hares I spotted, or nearly tripped over. It
was amazing to be sharing this claggy wilderness with them, which in the winter
would be as close to arctic as you can get in the UK.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">With visibility so poor, and my pack avoiding any sort of
dexterity in my movement, it was a testing day for sure, and the climb to the
next group of summits including </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Angel’s
Peak</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">, </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cairn Toul</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> and </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Devil’s Point</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> felt like a real grind. Once
on the ridge it wasn’t bad at all, with some enjoyable boulder hopping on the tops
of the summits.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was hopeful of getting closer to Ben Macdui before
succumbing to the lure of a hot meal, dry sleeping bag and comforting tent, but
with the misty rain prevalent for most of the day now getting stronger, I
decided to call it a day after 8 Munros, seeking out a camp spot at the foot of
Carn a’Mhaim. It was also fair to say that the steep and rough flanks of this
hill were not particularly enticing in the fading light and on tired legs.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgy-FpGyQE_n5AfMRiKbJvr2bgE2qbMSOirA75NP-1GKtpprXtxO9tcIhwIFjhbl6fRm2n_PRpfyZ6tqhQ0s8i8caNoXdlZffyRYjCBCgdSreKGosWpCHHoMtNeZxRKrDNlf0AUwM8NGs/s1600/P1030254.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgy-FpGyQE_n5AfMRiKbJvr2bgE2qbMSOirA75NP-1GKtpprXtxO9tcIhwIFjhbl6fRm2n_PRpfyZ6tqhQ0s8i8caNoXdlZffyRYjCBCgdSreKGosWpCHHoMtNeZxRKrDNlf0AUwM8NGs/s1600/P1030254.jpeg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corrour Bothy at the end of Day 1. Not great conditions. Camera stayed in pocket for most of the day!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It wasn’t all that easy finding a suitable camping spot out
of the wind and avoiding the bogs but I got there in the end. It was a delight
to get my wet clothes off and feet dry, as well as to get a hot meal and brew
on the go. The New Zealand sourced freeze-dried meals by Expedition Foods
really hit the spot.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKYr8xi0twJlAagjwsWJYLL8F2Ll6fS2FNCbuPGjCgxbrsVgjWqgvUaDE52DCvN8Ppwdid-qNcAedq1g2pqJRsWtVCCv0FijEz8Pg8VPo8fDfVGTkMGN0b1nzt48IT3430Rn3_fwdCg98/s1600/P1030256.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKYr8xi0twJlAagjwsWJYLL8F2Ll6fS2FNCbuPGjCgxbrsVgjWqgvUaDE52DCvN8Ppwdid-qNcAedq1g2pqJRsWtVCCv0FijEz8Pg8VPo8fDfVGTkMGN0b1nzt48IT3430Rn3_fwdCg98/s1600/P1030256.jpeg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a bad overnight camp location despite the gloomy conditions</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It was late by the time I had myself sorted – gone 11pm.
Sleeping time would now be a little compromised with 10 Munros and more than
half the total distance still to cover on day two. I settled on a 4.30am alarm,
aiming to be packed up and on the go within an hour. With a slightly fitful
night’s sleep, it wasn’t too hard getting up when the alarm went, although it was
raining heavily, and my heart immediately sank with the thought of another wet
trudge on the hills.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Packing was slowed down somewhat by the presence of midgies,
but I was on the climb up </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Carn a’Mhaim</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">
by 5.45, and on the summit by 6.30. The timing was perfect because no sooner
had I started moving, the rain cleared and breaks in the cloud started to
appear. The climb itself wasn’t half as bad as it looked the evening before,
perhaps just the rest gave me a new lease of life. </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ben Macdui</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> was next offering the biggest climb of the day, and
somewhat teasing glimpses of the incredible scenery around me, now right in the
heart of The Cairngorms. The summit usually provides some of the best views in
the area, but the clag was still hanging around up high, so it wasn’t to be.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCInWtT3v_4kPy5Xf3tFNdg9sDCN8-Sczthvko2gj3MQTCpY38lHGCUKsvY-Kx0HCGL6oPM7V0aaSBPPmKM0kHuwlMbDlo0nXympUHIFX9aF5hQUDJcEHtU7Z90q1rNAc3FJbb0Gg2X1H/s1600/P1030264.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCInWtT3v_4kPy5Xf3tFNdg9sDCN8-Sczthvko2gj3MQTCpY38lHGCUKsvY-Kx0HCGL6oPM7V0aaSBPPmKM0kHuwlMbDlo0nXympUHIFX9aF5hQUDJcEHtU7Z90q1rNAc3FJbb0Gg2X1H/s1600/P1030264.jpeg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Novelty - I can see something!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A bag drop facilitated an efficient out and back to </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Derry Cairngorm</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> before a quick descent
to the outlet to Lock Etchachan and a north-easterly ascent of </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Beinn Mheadhoin</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. By this time the views
were really opening up, and I was even rewarded with a little sunshine. Heaven.
I took a poor line off Beinn Mheadhoin following the wrong gully too far to the
north, but it did the job and got me down to the head of Glen Derry before
re-ascending to the plateau between </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Beinn
Bhreac</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">, </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Beinn a Bhuird</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> and </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Beinn a Chaorainn</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. Again I dropped my
bag to climb two of these hills, reclaiming it for the latter, from which I
would head north across to Fords of Avon and then Bynack More. It was around
this time that I had to make decisions on timings, because the day was now
getting on, and I was conscious of my 21.15 train departure from Aviemore. With
great disappointment I had to leave the most easterly summit, Leabaidh an Daimh
Bhuidhe, which would have added over an hour with a long out and back. It was
too risky - the timings simply didn’t stack up.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIVXWlDJpJxhZLGGml5hFHc70hJwevsTpqxj8knh6t2s3k5sJ9MoO7Mz3D1afo_4_y3RXz5JnJNLpY4wQ-maJwzFbF4E3NMnFFnH7woZmToKxoyszgjMO6sWP5xP-vOeyDUCpUgF4tsoI/s1600/P1030289.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIVXWlDJpJxhZLGGml5hFHc70hJwevsTpqxj8knh6t2s3k5sJ9MoO7Mz3D1afo_4_y3RXz5JnJNLpY4wQ-maJwzFbF4E3NMnFFnH7woZmToKxoyszgjMO6sWP5xP-vOeyDUCpUgF4tsoI/s1600/P1030289.jpeg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ford of Avon - in the river - and very refreshing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6wkItsA9RapjZ0oUSry0lu9iV6xPM8ksLsJnTFhu9XJ5e_89Y3bW_fcTTPmfpmWZA7_y6xbzEhCWsm9LVweh055O0P3K-Pn2FkMh97NEvDaq7R5AFv8QXC2WrIbxG-98sPfsm2t3uWVg/s1600/P1030282.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6wkItsA9RapjZ0oUSry0lu9iV6xPM8ksLsJnTFhu9XJ5e_89Y3bW_fcTTPmfpmWZA7_y6xbzEhCWsm9LVweh055O0P3K-Pn2FkMh97NEvDaq7R5AFv8QXC2WrIbxG-98sPfsm2t3uWVg/s1600/P1030282.jpeg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The summit of Beinn a Chaorainn</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I had some finely tuned timings worked out in my head for
the last couple of summits which would have me finished by 8.30pm, and I seemed
to hit all those one by one. From </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Bynack
More</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">, the penultimate summit, there was a really imposing view of Cairn
Gorm which was the final summit, involving a significant descent to The Saddle
near Loch Avon before a steep ascent of the south east side of Cairn Gorm. From
afar it seemed unachievable so gave me some anxiety late on, but on closer inspection
there was a good diagonal trod which got me up there efficiently.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was at the top of </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cairn
Gorm</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> at 7.20pm and from there I called a taxi to pick me up from Glenmore
at 8.30pm. It was the same driver that had picked me up the day before, so I
was hopeful he wouldn’t let me down. I just needed to run the lengthy descent
via the ski centre to get there in time. That was all fine, there’s nothing
like a deadline to focus the mind.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Panorama from the top of the final summit, Cairn Gorm.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And before I knew it I was tucked up in bed on the train south,</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> nodding
off for a well earned sleep, ready for work in London the next day. Quite
some weekend.</span></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-710387469320995132014-07-24T08:04:00.004+01:002014-07-24T08:04:49.293+01:00Western States 100, 28 June 2014<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This has done the rounds on Twitter & Facebook already, but just in case you missed it here's my <a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-5221-western-states-100---is-there-any-race-like-it-in-the-world%3F.html" target="_blank">write up</a> on Western States.</span>Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-79859336409048166942014-04-05T17:40:00.000+01:002014-04-05T17:40:02.210+01:00The North Face Global Athlete Team Summit - San Francisco, CA<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-align: justify;">I spent the past week in San Francisco along with team mates from The North Face Global Athlete Team. I'm not too sure how to do it all justice in a few words but basically, it was a super cool experience.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The team brings together a unique mix of alpinists, climbers, snowboarders, skiers, endurance runners and adventurers, all leaders in their respective sports. So when the everyone is brought together there is mutual respect flying around by the bucket load along with somewhat scary levels of energy and competitiveness. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1aMGv-KfPOU6TNJttiL2VaeqigWAwmfykwncm1UTM-Qnn2d7eoiLSu7xP6ifzgf9BvHD22F0AuohSRxxd3oMRjU__oSQmRiHbtcfpwQwp_OFsIQg4AclOee2FxOBajf7v_HSrSyh31U4S/s3200/SFO+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1aMGv-KfPOU6TNJttiL2VaeqigWAwmfykwncm1UTM-Qnn2d7eoiLSu7xP6ifzgf9BvHD22F0AuohSRxxd3oMRjU__oSQmRiHbtcfpwQwp_OFsIQg4AclOee2FxOBajf7v_HSrSyh31U4S/s3200/SFO+1.jpg" height="99" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglakCApmdF98Ra41oQe16bNLo6XLRzEC7RNDH1gVRV6D4KQkBrvZ9XGs_jb78q24N6A2GYkYBdVhFAkhZQYcrla9uD2_yLvYYlDhM_bApoMZVDqeAaxrltdLmD7dDwcci7k_d4j1vHDJkD/s3200/P1020273+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglakCApmdF98Ra41oQe16bNLo6XLRzEC7RNDH1gVRV6D4KQkBrvZ9XGs_jb78q24N6A2GYkYBdVhFAkhZQYcrla9uD2_yLvYYlDhM_bApoMZVDqeAaxrltdLmD7dDwcci7k_d4j1vHDJkD/s3200/P1020273+copy.jpg" height="272" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I sea kayaked with Conrad Anker ("arguably the world's most influential alpinist" - a quote from Outdoor Magazine that I randomly read on the way home), ran with multiple winners of races like UTMB and Western States, had dinner with Sochi Winter Games medalists and cross trained (<a href="http://www.thenorthface.com/en_US/mountain-athletics/" target="_blank">Mountain Athletics</a>) with a selection of them all. Where do you start when chatting with these guys? It's like your dream dinner date fifty times over. Oh, and a full week of it too.</span></span></div>
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The brand has always put athletes and expeditions at the forefront of everything it does and, being based at the headquarters in San Francisco, the place where it all <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_North_Face" target="_blank">began</a> 46 years ago, really hammered that home. We also managed to make good use of the outdoors playground that is California by heading north and trying our hand at some different sports whilst hanging out at a beautiful campground set amongst giant Redwoods. </div>
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Sometimes I need to take a step back to remember just how fortunate I am to be a part of it all, but I've certainly come away feeling inspired, honoured and fired up ready for more adventures in the coming year.</div>
</span></span>Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-88072925996237410462014-03-19T17:57:00.001+00:002014-03-19T17:57:41.848+00:00Hong Kong 100 (km)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All
the great trail races around the world seem to share one thing in common; an iconic
course. The Vibram Hong Kong 100 (km) race certainly ticks that box in style.
Let’s face it, we run these trail races for the overall experience and sense of
adventure, not for a best time at the distance, so it’s a crucial factor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Before
I headed out to Hong Kong for this year’s race I confess to being a little
sceptical about a race which, by implication of it’s name, was based around a
big city. So how would a trail race work in and around the city of Hong Kong? Superbly,
that’s how.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In
fact the race delivered a truly unique course like I’ve never experienced
before, combining a genuine trail run stacked with technical running and a
whopping 4,500m of climbing, with incredible views across the iconic
skyscrapers of one of the world’s great cities. Urban and rural all in one;
impressive, unique, dramatic. Superlatives galore.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The Hong
Kong 100 is also the first race in the calendar of the newly founded Ultra
Trail World Tour (UTWT), a series that brings together some of the classic
ultra distance trail races around the globe. Standards are high here because
UTMB and the Western States 100 – two of the international classics – are
corner stones of the 12 race series. But despite being only a few years old,
having experienced the Hong Kong 100, I know for sure that it deserves it’s
place amongst such great company. The race founders and directors, Steve and
Janet, are on to something special. They’re a lovely couple too, and really
know how to host.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I
was on a fairly whistle-stop schedule due to work commitments. I worked the
Wednesday day in London then hopped on an overnight flight direct to Hong Kong,
arriving some 12 hours later, now Thursday evening with the time difference. It
was a sudden but welcome immersion into vibrant culture, a pleasant climate (18</span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">°</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">C and sunny) and dramatic vistas of skyscrapers set
against a mountainous backdrop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I
was based with other elites at a youth centre close to the race start on the Sai
Kung peninsula. It was a great little base, ideally located for the race start
but away from the hussle and bussle of the city, a big plus for a country
bumpkin like me. I had little more than 24 hours to get my head straight, shake
out the legs and generally sort myself out! Of course trying to stay calm and
not do too much the day before a race never really happens in reality so I
didn’t worry too much about the long list of commitments and pre-race ‘to-dos’
I needed to address in a worryingly short space of time. Instead I just
embraced the whole whistle-stop nature of my trip and tried to do everything
with a smile, despite suffering from a little bit of jet lag. So I travelled
into town to collect my race number, hung out with fellow runners here and
there, had a filming session with the race documentary team, and then packed my
kit ready for race day. A quick sleep – well almost – and it was race day, and
time to head for the start.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My
main worry leading into the race was a lack of course knowledge, an approach
which doesn’t follow my usual policy of recceing race routes beforehand, in
order to know how best to race them. Oh well, all part of the excitement I
guess.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The
race was underway at 8am, with 1,600 excited runners let loose on the trails in
beautiful conditions with clear sunny skies, very little pollution and great
visibility. It was the equivalent to a good spring day in the UK, and certainly
a welcome change from the appalling winter conditions we’ve experienced in the
UK. Perhaps a little warm even – I shouldn’t complain. The local’s enthusiasm
for trail running was very apparent with stacks of shiny, cutting-edge, kit on
display – only in Chamonix have I seen a field of runners outdone.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho68zte37t2BxN9aEe2P7b5M_kWJNbTVgcGi9kDzaSgDkPAqFxrq4trzbE6LR7LKRxyWFmznEV30So1k0tparDjv6hO3B_-4xbSOoGTASKy30gtct9-3U0aQBZIFCSJl642hh-KTPzJqfm/s3200/7+photo+credit+Lao+Yao:+Vibram%C2%AE+Hong+Kong+100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho68zte37t2BxN9aEe2P7b5M_kWJNbTVgcGi9kDzaSgDkPAqFxrq4trzbE6LR7LKRxyWFmznEV30So1k0tparDjv6hO3B_-4xbSOoGTASKy30gtct9-3U0aQBZIFCSJl642hh-KTPzJqfm/s3200/7+photo+credit+Lao+Yao:+Vibram%C2%AE+Hong+Kong+100.jpg" height="250" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start line (credit: Lao Yao / Vibram Hong Kong 100).</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The
race route largely follows the Maclehose Trail, Hong Kong’s primary long
distance trail, a real belter of a route which explores coastline, peninsulas,
forest and mountains. It was a fast flat start with an impressively competitive
feel. Two packs led the way for the first 11km or so of mostly tarmac to control
point one, merging together just before. You could tell the guys who were
setting their stall out early, it was no nonsense running. The field had real
international depth, with all the contenders having multiple wins to their
names, so it was clear the competition for places would be fierce.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVxr-5l0W84RmnzlxC_w67wz6j2BkEWgVFRjsKLAcMNjRM6reBk1UVcLkQMm1T7Orv46gUhEzbOloGeGGGMYlBErB2khFqlVIJ8zib_DTsNJL3iT3-j8_CqCQxHJl6AsQNqTeoEe_tNSb/s3200/6+photo+credit+Lao+Yao%253A+Vibram%25C2%25AE+Hong+Kong+100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVxr-5l0W84RmnzlxC_w67wz6j2BkEWgVFRjsKLAcMNjRM6reBk1UVcLkQMm1T7Orv46gUhEzbOloGeGGGMYlBErB2khFqlVIJ8zib_DTsNJL3iT3-j8_CqCQxHJl6AsQNqTeoEe_tNSb/s3200/6+photo+credit+Lao+Yao%253A+Vibram%25C2%25AE+Hong+Kong+100.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frantic early pace (credit: Lao Yao / Vibram Hong Kong 100)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Hitting
the trails for the first time was fun, and worth the wait. We were soon out on
to the coastline peninsulas, cruising the trails across open headlands, white
sand beaches and sections of dense forest. It was sensory overload with all the
colours and sounds to take in, particularly with the excitement of running on a
new continent for the first time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YehF3NAqG53ry6Nq9y-P0jyiLCrCqRLRNZ-fzUXEsPx6cmHMi-ptBSMuQZ81fKP8koQslrE8byBRqiTtkDseSBr-2sDY5hohe9TvVAN8ap5yP88odJuQPJpEYMxRUmF8IWknYpx9RsiC/s3200/2+photo+credit+Lao+Yao%253A+Vibram%25C2%25AE+Hong+Kong+100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YehF3NAqG53ry6Nq9y-P0jyiLCrCqRLRNZ-fzUXEsPx6cmHMi-ptBSMuQZ81fKP8koQslrE8byBRqiTtkDseSBr-2sDY5hohe9TvVAN8ap5yP88odJuQPJpEYMxRUmF8IWknYpx9RsiC/s3200/2+photo+credit+Lao+Yao%253A+Vibram%25C2%25AE+Hong+Kong+100.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty nice, huh? (credit: Lao Yao / Vibram Hong Kong 100)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What
I soon found out was that concentration was key. A lot of the trails in Hong
Kong are hard baked mud or indeed concrete with steps making accurate foot
placement essential to stay upright, and high cadence equally important to
maintain a strong pace.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I
ran with the lead pack of 20 or so runners until around 15km, at which point I
realised it wasn’t a sustainable pace for me, particularly given that most of
the 4,500 metres of total ascent was back loaded, and worth saving some strength
for.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If
I’m honest, I took a fairly relaxed approach to the race as a whole with my
training not remotely specific to the course. I haven’t done much climbing over
the winter months, and admittedly I’ve been favouring leg speed over hills on the
basis there’s a long year ahead. It’s also fair to say the winter we’ve had in
the UK so far hasn’t been particularly conducive to long days in the hills. The
priority was definitely enjoying the experience and getting some solid running
in the bank as opposed to a ground-breaking performance. So I did my own thing,
and actually enjoyed having the space to take everything in around me, without
the hussle and bustle of running in a combative pack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The
kilometres seemed to tick by reasonably well for the first half of the race as
the route hugged the coastline, before later heading inland towards the hills. My
pace was very steady, but I suspected that I was losing ground on the leaders
because my general fluidity wasn’t great, and I had to work hard in moving from
checkpoint to checkpoint.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">However
the amazing contrasts continued, from the hussle and bussle of the checkpoint
areas where the volunteers couldn’t do enough to help you, to the serene and
calming sounds of the waves lapping the shore right next to the trail. Peaceful
coves, rustic villages and an abundance of wildlife were all there to be
enjoyed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then
the climbing and rising temperatures started to kick in a bit more and the
distinction between the two halves of the race became clearer. The climbs and
descents came thick and fast – nothing spectacularly big – but cumulatively
significant. Perhaps it would have been easier if you could switch off and run
to your stride, but stride length was firmly dictated by the going of steps,
and perhaps it was a little too restrictive for my liking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDVHY4au78uZZCNcnEBvt6NoSvMloFcPzdMiEgZUJr8-rfAYf6WlRcvWJCFU7X55efli6IriyBjQfEcqwPbsS3veXyJ_2d4Vmyoy60-z2wvu7qA6O9dDrXNon5sQBVh-rBko9H9Jry8nGA/s3200/3+photo+credit+Lao+Yao%253A+Vibram%25C2%25AE+Hong+Kong+100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDVHY4au78uZZCNcnEBvt6NoSvMloFcPzdMiEgZUJr8-rfAYf6WlRcvWJCFU7X55efli6IriyBjQfEcqwPbsS3veXyJ_2d4Vmyoy60-z2wvu7qA6O9dDrXNon5sQBVh-rBko9H9Jry8nGA/s3200/3+photo+credit+Lao+Yao%253A+Vibram%25C2%25AE+Hong+Kong+100.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One word: "Steps". (credit: Lao Yao / Vibram Hong Kong 100)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I
expected there to be casualties from the early pace, and there were, but never
as many as one would hope. But each place I gained was real motivation for
more, and I started to close in on the top ten. By the 80km mark I was
definitely suffering, perhaps the lack of really long runs in training, or just
a bit of early season rustiness. Thankfully the real suffering held off until
that point because mentally I was now on the home straight, despite some fairly
savage final hills to negotiate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sCWdorNrcKBRF0FI86-u0MlVAgGa657yqpJ7xOOF5Y5VPIG7KdA2Qfh_cgBT37L4sRKLCGcezkbeG2LbsDVaSqgg0lzNlXRRat8MLP8hVnx_CLqrYFsl9q0OJLJo6krbOhIX9KUiNgVH/s3200/1+photo+credit+Jeanette_Wang.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sCWdorNrcKBRF0FI86-u0MlVAgGa657yqpJ7xOOF5Y5VPIG7KdA2Qfh_cgBT37L4sRKLCGcezkbeG2LbsDVaSqgg0lzNlXRRat8MLP8hVnx_CLqrYFsl9q0OJLJo6krbOhIX9KUiNgVH/s3200/1+photo+credit+Jeanette_Wang.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a bad backdrop for the final sections (credit: Jeanette Wang)</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Lurking
in the distance as the culmination of the race was Tai Mo Shan, Hong Kong’s
highest peak at just under 1,000m, and a real twist in the tail of the race
coming so late on. By the time I started to make the final climb the sun was
setting against cityscape either side of the ridge. Blocking out the
skyscrapers, it could have been the high alpine meadows of New Zealand’s South
Island. As it was, I was in apparent touching distance of a mega city. With
clear views to both front and back to satisfy myself there would be no change
to my finishing position, I was able enjoy it, and quite memorable it was. The
top of the climb was at the 98km mark, and then just a couple of kilometres of
road running free fall to the finishing gantry. I finished in 10</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">
place, a smidgen under 11hours, as the first European home. It wasn’t a race
that any of the newcomers found easy, particularly those from the other side of
the globe, but it was a solid opening run to the series, and a truly great all
round experience. As the opening race of the new UTWT series, there’s
definitely a lot to look forward to.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizblouX1_DuH1uXXNEP6C-XFhMVsQVzjdp7N4JnT6YjtVK1kcLENt1XJPmqSyPmSelVE-4DMMY3ayGHdbrCRLn0mUmPUhyir0QAMVu2MNJ47Hgpwu7riHuM7C0eD8Zfvaj0K3WmHLuSY9n/s3200/2+photo+credit+The+North+Face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizblouX1_DuH1uXXNEP6C-XFhMVsQVzjdp7N4JnT6YjtVK1kcLENt1XJPmqSyPmSelVE-4DMMY3ayGHdbrCRLn0mUmPUhyir0QAMVu2MNJ47Hgpwu7riHuM7C0eD8Zfvaj0K3WmHLuSY9n/s3200/2+photo+credit+The+North+Face.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finishing chute</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me moaning about - err - steps.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-13142309157365973312013-10-03T09:43:00.000+01:002013-10-03T09:43:06.838+01:00UTMB 2013<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here's a <a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-4221-calm-amongst-the-storm%3A-jez-bragg%27s-2013-utmb.html" target="_blank">link</a> to my write up on this year's UTMB, published on the Run247 website.</span>Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-23502743744258584642013-08-23T06:54:00.001+01:002013-08-23T06:54:44.893+01:00Back to it
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s amazing to think that six months have passed since I
finished Te Araroa and that’s the last time I posted anything here. Whilst the
blog suggests otherwise, I don’t really feel like I’ve been ‘away’ from running
as such but patience has been important to claw myself back from the rather low
place I was in physically.. In the few months immediately after the expedition
I wrote a lot about my experiences for magazines and interviews, and reflected
upon the experience as a whole. I’m sure you’ve had enough of all that, and I
certainly think it’s time to start looking forward again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The plan from here is to get back into some racing and
‘shorter’ challenges, and initially to have a go at some races that remain
unticked on my bucket list. I get asked a lot whether I will do another ‘long
trail’ project, and hand on heart I couldn’t say no to that question, but it
would definitely be a few years down the line because the impact on body, mind,
family and friends is massive. However some shorter fastest known time (FKT) challenges
appeal to me, of which there are plenty to choose from in the UK for starters.
I am mulling over some options for next year at the moment. Hush hush.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But right now I’m feeling in a really good place in terms of
strength, health and fitness. Hurray. It’s a good job really, because in a
couple of weeks time I shall once again be on the start line for the The North
Face Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc; possibly not the most forgiving ultra race
around, particularly as a comeback race. And of course it’s not a new race to
me, like I said would be my focus. But it’s a race I really love, and the last
time I had a ‘clean’ build-up i.e. without much racing involved in the few
months beforehand was 2010 on the comeback from injury, and that year I had a belter.
So why not hey…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So what have I been up to over the last six months? Just
pulling myself back together really. Back in health now, I’ve realised just how
low I really was after Te Araroa. Yes, I know, it’s not a massive surprise to
hear I was deeply fatigued after all that running, but actually, I was pretty
bad. In the final part of the run, I never really properly recovered from the stomach
bug that stopped me in my tracks for 3 days, and I really just soldiered on,
determined to finish the job in hand. We suspected it was giardia at the time,
but after it lingered for weeks on return to the UK, I had various tests and I
found out I was actually suffering from salmonella. So the chances are it was
salmonella all the time, and with my beaten up immune system it probably lurked
in my body for several weeks, and only really responded positively after two
courses of antibiotics. I will never really know for sure, but what I do know is
that my recovery was particularly drawn out by my body’s struggle to absorb
what it needed, and it’s never great to have something like that sit around in
your system for too long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I started doing some light running, walking and swimming
within a few weeks of getting back around mid-February. I felt like I was
learning to do all these things for the first time again, such hard work it
proved to be. The complicated picture of having a beaten up ‘system’ mixed with
general fatigue simply from the duration of the run was hard to pick my way
through. The exercise I was doing didn’t involve any significant exertion, so I
felt it important to at least get my limbs moving again after so much ‘rust’
had accumulated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Before I finished Te Araroa my plan had been to taper down
from the daily distance and running routine by at least doing a little bit each
day for the few weeks afterwards. But what actually happened was that as soon
as my mind knew it was all over, so too my body let go, and physically my body
was just not up to anything. I soon let go of that idea, and did nothing in the
immediate aftermath.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I started to turn a significant corner during a holiday to
Scotland at the end of April. Running around the low level tracks of the local
glens was a really positive experience, and I could do it without stopping –
progress! From that point I gained some consistency, and step-by-step,
run-by-run, my endurance and speed started to creep back.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mindful of just drifting back into a ploddy Te Araroa pace
and that finding some ‘speed’ would be the real challenge, I entered a couple
of local road races to try and push myself on. The first was the Purbeck 10k
which was, frankly, horrible. The first 5km was bearable, but the second 5km
was horribly painful. I’ve never been overtaken by so many people during a
race. But it gave me some focus for a spell of speedwork, and tempos runs to
work on threshold pace, and that proved successful with a win at a local 8mile
fun run and 2<sup>nd</sup> place at a half marathon. Progress….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">By this time I was starting to run ‘long’ again, with a
staple diet of one or two twenty milers per week, sometimes a little bit more.
Without any taper I ran the Cortina Trail race in the Dolomites which again
felt like part of the process of getting me back to the right place. I wasn’t competitive
– I’m not sure I ever will be at the shorter ultra distance races without
specific focus – but I ran a solid race, did my own thing, and at a slightly
slower pace I could easily have held on for a much greater distance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I then felt like there was a platform there for UTMB, so
I’ve spent the summer focusing my training accordingly, with several trips to
the mountains to get the necessary climbing and descending into my legs. I’ve
been to the Brecon Beacons, Shropshire Hills, Scottish Highlands, round the
UTMB course over 3 days and Snowdonia for my annual Snowdon ‘reps’ session.
With these training weekends alone, it’s been quite a summer already with some
great weather to enjoy long days in the mountains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WBZ8S91cjMX4KCApdo2xHbaJtUPx8Vew4R0gDgrp3FFMX14hsBXTdOml6EcnO87kJmUaE3jpwJogmD6ot3y-6P43ZyWJAcLOFMb60eRwh0rITai41zfihQ3kOF7KSNRH5Z8vRCNEHAns/s1600/P1010318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="101" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WBZ8S91cjMX4KCApdo2xHbaJtUPx8Vew4R0gDgrp3FFMX14hsBXTdOml6EcnO87kJmUaE3jpwJogmD6ot3y-6P43ZyWJAcLOFMb60eRwh0rITai41zfihQ3kOF7KSNRH5Z8vRCNEHAns/s640/P1010318.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Col du Bonhomme on the UTMB course<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You can read about these outings in the blog posts I’ve
written for run247.com:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-4043-jez-bragg%27s-2013-utmb-training---part-1.html" target="_blank">UTMB Training (1)</a></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-4069-jez-bragg%27s-2013-utmb-training---part-2.html" target="_blank">UTMB Training (2)</a></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-4115-jez-bragg%27s-2013-utmb-training---part-3.html" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;" target="_blank">UTMB Training (3)</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-4144-jez-bragg%27s-2013-utmb-training---part-4.html" target="_blank">UTMB Training (4)</a></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In all honesty I still don’t know for sure how my body will
be over 100 miles in the mountains, and I won’t know the answer to that until
at least after Cormayeur on the UTMB course. It’s a fine balance between
pushing yourself hard to get fit, but not tiring yourself so much that you’re
actually losing strength in the process of training. Whatever happens in UTMB
this year, I’m out to enjoy it, and I’ll certainly be starting with a big grin
on my face, simply from the experiences I’ve had over the summer, and the sheer
excitement that a unique race like UTMB brings. Let’s just cross our fingers
for some better weather this year, and a race on the full course.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPmemzjtCSP6dJWzIpwS91PT-NsZhZAMmk-t5PHqJJGSBSH4i455UCnhN8kP_5TO2jwXHyJeTo-DlucugVCe-UOuDFn7mwLRDfV64pMFk3IQE9fTK7ImGsR_u2RWD17LCNEalEmoh94uZ/s1600/018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPmemzjtCSP6dJWzIpwS91PT-NsZhZAMmk-t5PHqJJGSBSH4i455UCnhN8kP_5TO2jwXHyJeTo-DlucugVCe-UOuDFn7mwLRDfV64pMFk3IQE9fTK7ImGsR_u2RWD17LCNEalEmoh94uZ/s640/018.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poles? Maybe, haven't decided yet.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZfpQOGsOEXhGCkmZLJNpToTVnzRJXj5hNZNj9Al2RXvvv_bJwHYSMC8A4NKXiHuWxF4AtfFqMunAFiO44mBTOTsBASUwRx42LBFKuCR7KqazkzSH5gshusGa1ulK1cPXRWVYMnQxP2UH/s1600/IMG_0525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZfpQOGsOEXhGCkmZLJNpToTVnzRJXj5hNZNj9Al2RXvvv_bJwHYSMC8A4NKXiHuWxF4AtfFqMunAFiO44mBTOTsBASUwRx42LBFKuCR7KqazkzSH5gshusGa1ulK1cPXRWVYMnQxP2UH/s640/IMG_0525.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">on the Ramsay Round route, big Ben in the background</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaxNIW76HvcYR2DOrcIUUwEmxKMGKc2z39IPUmtgA5_gXkuLczEwn4jt1f6t88irsLSQA8H1tadd0H0gJz7jhRMMF-LCUi06FU8vZSgSUz33Ospm5BeGWjy4L-22L1l_wU4x_ExsfZcZUf/s1600/IMG_0580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaxNIW76HvcYR2DOrcIUUwEmxKMGKc2z39IPUmtgA5_gXkuLczEwn4jt1f6t88irsLSQA8H1tadd0H0gJz7jhRMMF-LCUi06FU8vZSgSUz33Ospm5BeGWjy4L-22L1l_wU4x_ExsfZcZUf/s640/IMG_0580.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chamonix bound on the last day of my UTMB training loop</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjujHyXuQ9OVPDNuZ7UhwL-YpDZoMI77CvND5lIKdKtcEOslcc5NtsdZwqwu_7LTbSnHmxSHY-dpfypIr0GMCFIT2wOq6Z82lIUcL-ffhQf4y5NEAVGyKjJk01qxpcN3QdIGqgLpiwitdV/s1600/P1010151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjujHyXuQ9OVPDNuZ7UhwL-YpDZoMI77CvND5lIKdKtcEOslcc5NtsdZwqwu_7LTbSnHmxSHY-dpfypIr0GMCFIT2wOq6Z82lIUcL-ffhQf4y5NEAVGyKjJk01qxpcN3QdIGqgLpiwitdV/s640/P1010151.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last munro on the Ramsay Round route. Phew.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<!--EndFragment-->Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2499394923476958780.post-5144873111658998662013-02-02T19:00:00.000+00:002013-02-14T04:57:16.089+00:00Te Araroa - articles and coverage - UPDATED 14/02/13<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><u>Pre Expedition</u></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://iancorless.org/2012/11/13/the-long-pathway-jez-bragg/" target="_blank">Ian Corless</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/profiles/jez-bragg-blazing-a-lonely-trail-with-purity-the-prize-8406690.html" target="_blank">The Independent newspaper</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.grough.co.uk/magazine/2012/11/20/ultrarunner-jez-bragg-will-attempt-length-of-new-zealand-in-50-days" target="_blank">Grough</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/activityandadventure/9703385/Jez-Bragg-the-adventure-interview.html" target="_blank">The Telegraph newspaper</a> - The Adventure Interview</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://running.competitor.com/2012/12/news/jez-bragg-running-across-new-zealand_63557" target="_blank">Competitor</a> online</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-3079-jez-bragg-takes-it-to-the-next-level.html" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;" target="_blank">Run 247</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-3080-jez-bragg-embarks-on-the--adventure-of-a-lifetime.html" target="_blank">Run 247</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.advendure.com/index.php/apostoles/vouna/item/1094-o-jez-bragg-sto-te-araroa-tis-neas-zilandias#.URnitfIxx8E" target="_blank">'Advendure'</a> - Greece</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Mid Expedition</u></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.thenorthfacejournal.com/category/endurance-running/te-araroa/" target="_blank">The North Face Journal</a> - photos, video, blog, infographic</span><br />
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North Island <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gc7U3740K44" target="_blank">video dispatch </a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.epicadventurer.com/a-story-of-running-across-new-zealand/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Epic Adventurer</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.wildernessmag.co.nz/view/page/articles/read/giardia-flattens-te-araroa-ultra-runner/" target="_blank">Wilderness</a> magazine, NZ</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.marathontalk.com/podcast/episode_155_jez_bragg_te_araroa.php" target="_blank">Marathon Talk</a> - podcast interview</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.trailrunnermag.com/people/adventure/493-a-real-cross-country-run" target="_blank">Trail Runner</a> Magazine</span><br />
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<a href="http://iancorless.org/tag/teararoa/" target="_blank">Ian Corless/ Talk Ultra</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-3192-jez-bragg%27s-te-araroa-expedition-has-officially-begun%21.html" target="_blank">Run 247</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.outsideonline.com/blog/outdoor-adventure/expedition-watch-jez-bragg-runs-across-new-zealand.html" target="_blank">Outside</a> online</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><u>Post Expedition</u></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.irunfar.com/2013/02/jez-bragg-completes-te-araroa-trail-expedition.html" target="_blank">iRunFar's</a> detailed expedition round-up</span><br />
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<a href="http://iancorless.org/2013/02/02/audio-interview-with-jezz-bragg-on-te-araroa-finish/" target="_blank">Ian Corless</a> / Talk Ultra interview</span><br />
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<a href="http://iancorless.org/2013/02/02/jez-conquers-the-te-araroa/" target="_blank">Ian Corless</a> expedition round-up </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.run247.com/articles/article-3371-jez-bragg-accomplishes-new-zealand%E2%80%99s-te-araroa-trail-in--new-record-time-under-human-power.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Run 247</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.mudsweatandtears.co.uk/2013/02/05/bragg-gets-the-job-done-at-te-araroa/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%253A+mudsweatandtears+(Mud%252C+Sweat+%2526+Tears)" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mud, Sweat & Tears</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.wildernessmag.co.nz/view/page/articles/read/brit-nails-te-araroa-but-nearly-dies-on-river-crossing/" target="_blank">Wilderness</a> magazine, NZ</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.trailrunnermag.com/people/adventure/493-a-real-cross-country-run" target="_blank">Trail Runner</a> magazine, US</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.teararoa.org.nz/news/fullarticle/178/" target="_blank">Te Araroa</a> - official website, NZ</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.outdoorsmagic.com/outdoors-news/brit-cracks-new-zealand-ultra-run-record/10623.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Outdoors Magic</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.gotrailmag.com/trail-stuff/latest-news/featured-articles/167-jez-bragg-completes-the-te-araroa" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Go Trail</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.planetfear.com/news/Jez_Bragg_bags_NZ_End_to_End_record_2864.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Planet Fear</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/sport/general/others/ultra-running-running-the-length-of-new-zealand--thats-a-thing-to-bragg-about-8489211.html" target="_blank">Independent</a> newspaper</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.thenorthfacejournal.com/category/endurance-running/te-araroa/?banner=HPsmall-TeAraroa" target="_blank">The North Face</a> website - expedition photo collection by Damiano Levati</span>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.peignee-verticale.com/2013/02/jez-bragg-te-araroa-expedition.html" target="_blank">Peignee Verticale</a>, France</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.u-trail.com/jez-bragg-interview-exclusive-fortune-favors-the-brave/" target="_blank">U-Trail</a>, France</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/travelnews/9855425/Briton-makes-record-breaking-New-Zealand-run.html" target="_blank">Telegraph</a> newspaper</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://nzkayaker.com/timstales/fishingdiary/269-kayaking-cook-strait-jan-2013" target="_blank">Tim Taylor - NZ Kayaker</a> - our Cook Strait Guide - Tim's write up</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.advendure.com/index.php/diafora/photo-of-the-day/photo-of-the-day/o-jez-bragg-te-araroa-1-53" target="_blank">'Advendure'</a> - Greece</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jez Bragghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16434464928796539130noreply@blogger.com8