WESTERN STATES
I wasn't as sad about the cancellation of WS as some of the other, more elite runners were. After all, I'd done it before and, not wishing to brag, at the sedate speed I go I can knock off a 100-miler at the drop of a hat without any specific training. I could take it or leave it. Instead I looked at the opportunities it gave us that we would never have had otherwise - e.g. socialising with fellow runners, pacers and crew into the late hours in the evenings, walking up to and running back down from Emigrant Pass (the first 4.5 miles of the WS route), running 23 miles at altitude between 7,000 and 9,000 feet on the Tahoe Rim Trail on the Saturday when WS should have started. The latter was an informal run that runner Paul Charteris organised and which over 30 runners took part in. The link below shows the pictures I took on that particular run, away from the fire smoke and pollution.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/26082075@N05/sets/72157605880619860/
Incidentally, the fires are still burning. The organisers made the right decision in proactively cancelling the race, for the first time in its 35-year history, before they would have been forced to do so by the fire and forestry services.
The organisers are not obliged to refund costs in these exceptional events, nor would I expect them to, since all of our entry fees, and more, were already spoken for on permits, food, drink, belt buckles and numerous logistics.
SWISS JURA MARATHON
I could not believe how well the Swiss Jura Marathon went for me. As you know I have never done a stage race before, not even two consecutive days at serious event speeds. To complete seven consecutive ultramarathons without an injury or even a niggle, and to maintain better speed than those around me over the 7 days, was a pleasant surprise. I finished well up in the top half (27th overall out of 62 finishers and 85 starters). I worked up to 27th from being below 40th near the beginning. The more technically up-and-down each stage was, the better my advantage. I was a little slower than many on the ups, but even then I overtook some others when the ups were very technical - i.e. rocky and rooty in thick woodland up a narrow mountain ridge with steep drop-offs to both sides. However it was on the descents when I swallowed up the distance and blasted past people every time. (I noticed the Europeans, for the most part, were not very confident on any technical descents, though they were generally strong climbers.) My knees and quads stood up to the pounding and my eye-brain-limb reactions avoided any trips or falls.
I was amazed at the overnight powers of regeneration of the human body. At the end of a particularly arduous or hot stage, when I might not have had the chance to keep myself optimally fuelled or hydrated right to the end, the muscles complained and continued to do so even in the middle of the night when I hobbled my way to the toilet. However, by the next day they were much better and I was fit and ready to do it all again. I wasn't the only one to experience such powers of recovery.
The general consensus from two others who had recently run the Marathon des Sables was that the SJM is tougher than the MdS because each stage is much longer with much more ascent, and on the hot days (we had plenty of those) the humidity makes the heat feel worse (though they did not experience the abnormally hot and humid conditions that Vaughan and Anne experienced).
After I returned home I checked out some statistics of what we had done. 350km equates to roughly 220 miles. 11km of ascent/descent equates to around 33-and-a-half thousand feet, the cruising altitude of passenger jets and considerably more than the height of Mount Everest.
Notes on nutrition:
I supplemented the supplied rations with two pots of Ensure Plus per day, plus two Nutrigrain Elevenses bars and three SIS 'Go' gels. The Ensure was crucial in keeping me fuelled and feeling comfortable and energetic to the end of each stage like I've never felt before on ultras. Sipping a pot over the space of 0.5 - 1 hour allowed comfortable digestion and excellent fuelling. I never consumed two during the stage. If I started the second pot on a longer, tougher stage, I would not finish it until after I'd completed the stage.
Research:
The medical research study I had volunteered for was interesting but proved to be rather a burden. There were measurements at the start and end of stages, including urine tests, blood tests, weight and bioresistivity measurements to calculate water content, skin fold measurements to measure fat, and muscle size measurements.
I soon got used to the routines. First thing upon arriving at our new accommodation was get half a litre of Rivella (a gorgeous refreshing sparkling drink based on milk though you would never think so, also the main sponsor of the event), find my bags, grab some mats and find the best of the remaining sleeping spaces in the sports hall for me, Alison and Julie, give the medical researchers my post-race 'sample', get showered, wash clothes and hang to dry, go for a massage, get measured and stabbed by the medical researchers, continue drinking and eating to keep me going until dinner, discard the day's empties and pack my Ultimate Direction 'Wasp' backpack with the next day's supplies, get next day's clothes ready for easy grabbing in the predawn darkness, write up my medical memoirs of liquid intake during and between stages, go for dinner / debrief / briefing at 6pm, then go to bed around 9:30 pm until 4am the next day.
In the morning, ablute, grease to lubricate critical parts, ease the Injinjis onto my toes and get dressed, provide sample to and get measured by the medics, get breakfast at 5:15 am, pack bags then register before 6:45am for the 7am start and the beginning of another mini adventure. My morning routine served me well. I never got so much as a hot spot, let alone a blister or any chafing. I wore the same shoes throughout, against the advice of the organisers, but what do they know?
