The White Rose 100, and my first DNF.
As I stand in this café with a coffee writing this (yes, I said stand, got to love a café with a standing table!) I realise that I should be in a lot more pain than I’m currently in, I should be blindly feeling my way around the pain cave right now! There’s no cramping legs, numb body or wind-swept Ryan after a cold night at war on the White Rose 100 course. Right now, I figure I would still be about 20 miles from the finish line of this race and ready to end an incredible year of ultras on a high!
But I’m not. Yesterday I made the decision at the early 30mile point of the race to call my first DNF. It was a pretty tough, verging on an emotional break-down decision! Made worse by the fact I felt OK to carry on, and knew I could finish the distance. As I trotted around the empty kit-bag room speaking out loud to myself and analysing every fibre of my leg muscles, I knew it could be done.
6 weeks before today I finished my first ever 100miler, the Robin Hood 100. It was a great experience and I found a new love of the distance, it’s awesome. I had some issues with my foot during that race and was looking for another opportunity. I didn’t have anything planned and as it was my first 100 I wasn’t sure how long my body would take to recover from the trauma! I enjoyed a great couple of weeks afterwards whilst I travelled in Europe, enjoying too much guilt free wine, food and chaos with no idea when my next race would be. Until Nick wrote me!
“Fancy this?” With a link to the WRU100 included…
It was 6 weeks away and it looked cool. I’m not sure why it looked cool. Mainly because it was 100miles long and I wanted another go at the best ride in the fair I guess! I thought I knew what the answer would be when I put it past the coach, Ronnie, so soon after the RH100. I was still on the fence myself whether it would be a good idea or not. But to my surprise he said it might work, that if I recovered well enough it might be worth the risk to try for a bonus race off the back of this year’s hard training, I would still have the required fitness so I would be just hitting the re-set button. The seed was planted and the race was booked. The only problem is neither of us knew how well recovered I would be from the RH100 by then. The ultra-running community is great. Hundreds of new faces on FB who have never even met but who seem to add each other as soon as the criteria is met of a profile picture including a running vest or at least 2 friends in common! I love it, it fills my FB feed with cool people and movers, their challenges and general running and outdoor positivity. And turning up to races and bumping in to people who you’ve never met, but had followed online is a great treat on the day. But it also exposes me to the hardcore, veteran ultra-runner’s, and all sorts of silly long races and ideas. To see people bouncing from one ultra to the next month after month, appearing injury free and rested can play tricks on the mind. Of course I’m going to think I can do the same!
Over the next 6 weeks I seemed to recover damn well, I was injury free and my energy returned to that playful child-like state where all the fun is at. A change in role at work to a much more active and hilariously injury-prone one meant I struggled to figure out whether the DOMs was coming from my training or work! I had a couple of niggles which I was certain weren’t from my training, as they didn’t affect my running at all. So basically, I was a recovery machine just like these ones on FB that I have as role models, I was ready for another 100 yesterday, F#@k average recovery…
I knew when I booked the race that I had a course at work on the Mon-Fri leading up to it that would make for the worst rest week ever. I tried everything to wriggle out of it short of quitting and reapplying for my job after the race, but I couldn’t get out of it and I had to bite the bullet. It turned out not to be as bad as I thought. But I wasn’t rested, and an intense Thursday meant I woken up on Friday with a bad neck that I had to carry through another day of training. It’s a reoccurring drama, I’ve had it looked at and I know it’s a postural problem that I need to address, it was just bad timing! And when I woke up on Saturday morning for the race it was still there, I hoped it would relax overnight but I guess it likes my company. As the race was starting at 12pm I didn’t bother booking in to a close hotel the night before. I knew I would sleep better at home and didn’t mind the 3hour drive on the morning guzzling coffee and singing badly to spotify. I arrived nice and early to the event and met Nick, there were other people around as well who I recognised from other races so it was a good sociable. I love the buzz and energy around the start of an ultra, a long ultra in particular. There’s kit being thrown everywhere whilst everyone changes their last-minute decisions before going on to the cat-walk. People eyeing up other racers and their food. And prime positions being defended near the plugs that harbour the meaning of life, or phone battery as some call it. People come out of rooms double the height that they went in, depending on which model of Hoka shoes they brought with them. And they’ll also be half the circumference after wrapping themselves in compression wear and buffs. It’s epic.
We were ushered to the start line outside, it was cold. Eye of the tiger was playing over a speaker whilst the count-down to the start was made. I was worried about my neck, but not so much about my legs. The neck would hopefully ease off when I warmed up, the legs would just do what they do. It’s a bit like that feeling on the big roller-coaster that you only got on to impress the chick. Where you’re trapped in by the seat locks, and approaching the top of that huge drop, and now you’re left hanging looking down at the death defying rails wondering how hungover the engineer was when he tightened the bolts. No way out and no way to get off. Just put your hands up!
The 100mile course for the White Rose is 3 x 30 mile loops with a 10mile extension on the last lap, starting at a school sports hall near Huddersfield. On the drive in I could see that the terrain was quite hilly and exposed, it looked class. There were no maps provided but that was ok because the route was very well signed by arrow cards or arrows that had been sprayed on to lampposts. But I’d be lying if I noticed many of them, I was following everyone else knowing I’d probably end up getting lost later. My neck was bothering me I could feel it with every gait cycle. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch with every other step. Turning my head right at roads involved turning my whole upper body instead my neck. The first few miles were full of turn-backs up and down hills through the streets, I stuck with Nick who set a good pace. He was aiming for a 22hr finish. He was walking fast up the hills and it didn’t take me long to start working out my legs weren’t liking the climbs even if it was only a fast walk. They seemed to be doing ok on the flats but I knew I was going faster than base pace, I felt like taking the risk for a slightly faster finish today. After 5miles we hit the first aid station and grabbed a handful of food. About a mile later I started to see a coloured spectrum in my vision. I get migraines every now and again, not bad ones but it follows the same routine. A coloured spectrum that gradually gets worse, then disappears before a light headache about 30minutes later. It’s never too painful but this wouldn’t be ideal at all. I looked around and blinked my eyes alternatively to work out if it was just that I had been staring at the sun. But it got worse and I knew this was happening. I’ve never been able to work out why I get them, but I’m sure today it was the neck pain that induced it, and it might account for the other times as well. Either way I was stuck with it and for the next 20miles of nice and at times muddy trail I felt slightly nauseous, I was nearly sick at one point. By mile 15 it was obvious to me that I was nowhere near as recovered as I thought I was, I already felt like I had done 30miles! The slight up-hills were giving me precursors for cramp in my quads and hams, and the downhills were doing the same. I was comfortable with the pace on the flats but my legs still felt heavy and tired despite being able to keep up with the pace. 15miles in and I was already coming to the realisation that this was a DNF in the making. By mile 20 Nick was about a mile ahead, I had a few chats with people who I had met on FB or at other races which were a good distraction to the chaos I was trying to organise in my head. The hilly terrain became harder and my legs grew more tired, they weren’t handling this well at all. By 25miles the sun was starting to go down and the headtorches were on, it was going to be a cold night. I already knew what decision I had to make, but I didn’t like it at all. I was running with a guy and we spoke about his DNF at a 100miler 6 weeks previously, he was here to try and finish this one and tick the box. I didn’t feel this pressure, I had finished mine 6 weeks ago, this was a cheeky bonus race for me. I wanted to do another 100 and gain more experience at the distance. Annoyingly as we were within 2 or 3 miles of the checkpoint my legs felt like they gained a second wind and were feeling good, as they seem to do around this distance. Further confusing the decision that I had to make. The route had been great, as were the checkpoints and volunteers.
When we arrived at the main 30mile checkpoint, the start and end of the loop, I was in a world of confusion. The realisation that I hadn’t recovered from the last 100miler in the 6 weeks was a big issue for me. I was already looking at my A races for next year, and I wanted to be strong enough to plan an active expedition abroad in the first half of the year if the timing was right as well. There are a couple of races that I’m really interested in March/April time, ones that are longer than 100miles and that I want to focus on and put in some good training for. If I wasn’t even recovered from the RH100 yet, and it would seem by a long way off, doing another 100 would put me in an even bigger recovery time-frame. I worked out that it could even take up until next February or March if I was lucky just to fully recover. That left no decent training time for my plans next year. One’s I already felt like I wanted to do before I had booked this race at late notice.
I had my rules of failure for this race. I knew that it wasn’t as important to me as other one’s I had booked in the past, that I had spent months focussing on and training for. To finish this 100 would have been cool, a great end to a great year. But it wasn’t necessary to me, I had already achieved my aims. My main aim was to finish the Spine. I was stoked to throw in my first 100miler as well. To my rules of failure with this race I added that I would allow myself to DNF if I realised I wasn’t properly recovered, and that it would have a negative impact on my plans for next year which now was not too many months away as far as training time for ultras goes.
I was running and pacing around the kit-bag room trying to work out what to do, trying to feel what my legs were telling me. My legs felt ok, but I knew that would change on the next 30mile loop and that I would start battling with cramp, I’d already had the pre-cursors. There was no point in a DNF at 60, if it was going to be done it would have to be done now. If I carried on I would finish the whole thing and make the pain and needed recovery worthwhile. I had done the 30miles in 6hours, I had plenty of time to finish the race and knew I had the mental reserve and legs to do it. But it would destroy me without a doubt. And guarantee an elongated recovery that would affect my plans for next year. I was in a battle in my head, with the logical thought process which was happy I had hit a rule of failure, and the stubborn side of me that doesn’t like to quit, and doesn’t believe it should be done for no good reason. That wants to hold on to this persona I seem to of been given after the Spine of ‘that guy that smiles through hard stuff’.
I realised I had spent the last few miles running and battling with this decision spending too much time wondering how I would explain it to other people, how it would look on FB to people I didn’t even know or had never met. In a year being in some sort of spot light after The Spine I didn’t realise how much I had been affected by this kind of persona, or how integrated my personal goals had become with the world of social media and other people’s opinion, something I’d always tried avoiding. The moment I realised this is what was making the decision so complicated is the moment the decision became easy. This wasn’t quitting in the sense that I dislike. The unnecessary need for safety and comfort. A crap reason to make the pain stop whilst chasing something that you truly want in your heart. I wasn’t in pain, I didn’t have any physical reason to stop. Even the slight headache wasn’t a biggie. I wasn’t arguing with my stubborn side at all, I knew full well I could finish this race and put myself through the pain if I wanted to. My head agreed that a DNF was the right choice for my long-term plans. That I didn’t want this race enough to destroy myself for it. That it wasn’t worth it if it meant sacrificing more important challenges. I was scared to DNF because of how it looked to other people. And I don’t run ultras for other people.
I’ve gradually advertised less and less my thoughts on social media and try to talk about it less to people who aren’t interested, and I’ll continue to do the same even more now as hard as it is! I like writing in to a blog as it seems to make it easy to process my thoughts, they become clearer to me if I type them. And reading them back in the future will be a great reminder of the lessons and experiences that I have had. People who are interested can read or ask if they want and think they can stand my uncontrollable and excited blabbing. I’ve met some fantastic people through ultra’s, some that I don’t even know too well but who are genuinely interested in keeping in touch and meeting at races. The persona after The Spine isn’t one I chose, but I don’t mind it if it shows someone they can smile through hard stuff in their own life. If I chose one it would be the guy with a love of movement and the active process of committing, training and achieving whilst enjoying the journey. It leaves it far more open to a variety of things. From studying, to travelling or the big races I intend to do.
I made my decision. Unwrapped the tape on the tracker and handed it back. To my relief they agreed, not that it mattered, but I guess we look to other people for support with these big decisions, and it helps. They had been there before. A lady in the room asked “are you the guy that finished the Spine?”, funnily and ironically enough!
I replied, “yes, so it feels a bit weird doing a DNF at the 30mile mark of an ultra”. I loved her reply…
“You’ve got nothing to prove”, she said.
I had satisfied my rules of failure. The sacrifice of altering plans that I am genuinely excited about next year were too great, just to try and prove a point. I gave Ronnie a call after I had made the choice, so that I could hold firm with it and know that it was my own. He managed to find a positive spin off it, and it helped to talk it through. A DNF is still a DNF at the end of the day. Does it matter? To who?
I’ve learnt that it takes me longer to recover from these races than I thought, at this point in my ultra-marathon training. In years to come I hope that will change, but until then I need to be a bit more patient. I’m not invincible…not fully yet anyway! I need to correct the posture problems that are now causing me problems the bigger my races become and pay more attention to the neglected areas. Focus less on other people’s opinions. Plan and prepare for my races smarter and within my own capabilities. That is the last time I ever step foot on the start line of a big ultra unrested or injured. By the 30mile mark I felt like I had run 60miles. This morning the fatigue reflects the same, and I know I made the right decision. I needed this to happen to drill these lessons home and learn them, sooner rather than later. Or I’d just keep running around the room with my eyes closed without knowing the boundaries, and eventually hit the wall at one of the events that are important to me. That lesson would be far more painful.
I am even more certain now that big ultra’s, 100milers and multi-day events are the ones that rock my world. They are incredible. You need to fully commit and get everything right in your planning and training. And be willing to sacrifice and go through the pain, or get your ass kicked in to the ground. It’s an interesting game to try and get right. Full of high’s and low’s.
I heard a song lyric this week that I love and will remember, “if your heart has a dream don’t bury it, ’cause the best things in life are the scariest” (Sister Hasel: Danger is real). My ambitions are set. The scariest thing about today was submitting to a DNF to get closer to them.
You win or you learn.
Chasing Trails 