Ultra trail du mont blanc
I don’t think of myself as an especially emotional person. I love a show tune, and Barry Manilow gets me every time. You’ll find me screaming at the TV when Manchester City are playing. But generally I’m on an even keel.
Another weekend, another two-day blast as my training intensifies for the UTMB – now only four-and-a-half months away. This time I headed west for XNRG’s brilliantly organised Cotsworld Way Ultra-marathon. It took in 60 miles of the 102-mile national trail which runs from Chipping Campden in the north to Bath in the south.
Lunchtime running. Work takes up so much time that it can be difficult to fit in the training. One way round this that I’ve found is to run in my lunch break. If there’s time to go to the pub, there’s definitely time for a run.
Running events take you all over the country and perhaps to somewhere you wouldn’t usually choose to visit for a weekend – this time it was Hastings for the annual half marathon.
After completing the Marathon des Sables in May 2012, I thought I’d earned the next 10 years off running. The MdS is a multi-stage ultra-marathon across the Sahara. Along with 900 others, I had to cover 150 miles in five days on brutal terrain in blistering heat. I loved it but even so enough is enough. Or so I thought.
There’s nothing so frustrating as illness or injury when you’ve got a big goal in your sights and a training schedule to stick to. And this past week a whole load of frustration has come my way.
Without wishing to come across as a weirdo stalker, if I could dedicate one room in my house to sporting heroes, I would plaster the walls with posters of John McEnroe, Rafa Nadal, Chrissie Wellington, Marion Jones, Lance Armstrong and Haile Gebrselassie, to name but a few. I have watched them, cried over them, cheered them, and to varying degrees, felt let down by them.
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