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Showing posts with label trail running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trail running. Show all posts

Sunday, 26 May 2013

In the hills

I've been up in the hills a bit recently, 3 times in the last week in fact (62.5km and 2400m of ascent) but it never gets old because it is never the same.


On Wednesday I met a friend at the bottom of the hill, say hi to Bill the Bactrian

Wednesday was a really funny weather day. We never saw the sun, it was windy but it was 28c all day until about 4pm when the temperature began to drop and I went out for a run.
The climb was, well upwards, and took about 30-minutes but what greeted me when I got out of the trees and reached the views was - unexpected to say the least. Not only had the wind picked up to gale force proportions but UB had disappeared.

I was not looking forward to descending into the sandstorm, but by the time I got down it had gone and things were calm. All through the 40 minute jog back to the apartment there was a very occasional drop of rain, until I walked into the apartment grounds. Then the skies opened. I'd been out 3 hours missed the sandstorm, missed the rain and got home without incident. Result.

I did the same route on Friday with Sarah. The rain had changed everything.


Trees had suddenly gone green and flowers were everywhere.


And UB was back - go back and look at the sandstorm picture - these two were taken from similar positions.

A lovely jog hike without the sense of impending doom that had dogged Wednesday.



Saturday I did a different route.

She danced down the trail spooking the foal a bit - would we see her later at the Scotch House?

We went over the top of the hill and started dropping down the other side towards a monastery but the trail became a little indistinct.

team inov-8 roclite

Gavin couldn't find anyone who would ship to Mongolia that stocked his size

We finished the trip out with a beer in the Irish Castle - except the beer was bad and there was a children's party on so we headed for the Scotch House - where there was Scottish country dancing. Seriously! And of course the boys all sat and drank while the girls were pressed into taking part.




Saturday, 20 April 2013

Earlier this week

Earlier this week a friend, now resident in Colorado, sent me a picture of her house covered in snow. It had been snowing for 3 days straight. She seemed happy, the schools were closed, the kids excited, and the the ski season seemed to be extending through April.

I had a somewhat more curmudgeonly response:


"I don't know whether to be happy for you - or not, I guess it depends on whether you view it as an opportunity to extend the ski season and have a day or two off or...

I was out running in the hills on last Sunday and the snow was gone from all but the sheltered sections that were shaded. I was in shorts and loving running on rock and dirt. 
I got up Monday and it was snowing. At it's deepest we had about 6-8 inches which is not a lot by your standards but huge here, where the snow usually comes in small amounts of dry powder. A lot has gone but the hills are white again and daytime temps have dropped back way below freezing having been as high as +10c. Enough already! I want to hit the hills with a light back pack holding food and water - not a day sack full of extra clothing in case the weather changes.
I survived the winter relatively sane - I was expecting it - I prepared for it- the cold did not bother me that much, but I'm really really ready for Spring - this is beginning to piss me off. Time for nature to turn green, for the trails to open up and for me to show more than just my nose to the sun when I run. 
Clearly I am in need of a little arctic explorer dna and need to restructure my expectations and reactions

Back to Sir Ranulf.

"My dear,
Weather is neutral. It’s neither good nor bad. It just is. What’s bad about it is how prepared you are for it.
The snow isn’t bad if you have a warm jacket or house and a cup of hot cocoa. The scorching heat isn't bad if you have an air conditioned house and a cooler filled with ice cold beer.
There is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.
Same goes for fortune.
There is no such thing as bad fortune. Only inappropriate expectations and reactions.
Falsely yours,
Sir Ranulph Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes

Simon (who is happy for you snow bunnies but pissed off at the latest refreeze just when he was beginning to see the light at the end of winter.) "

So I took Sir Ranulf's advice re-evaluated my expectations and rethought my reactions. 

 I went back up the hill today with Sarah and a few others, it was still snowy, it was a little treacherous in places but I took a quality camera instead of my phone, and enjoyed myself immensely.













"Perspective - use it or lose it!"

Thanks Katy thanks Ranulf

Friday, 29 March 2013

5 Ovoo ridge run

Mongolians routinely build 'cairn' like structures on the tops of hills, high points or points of particular importance for them. These Ovoo also have some symbolic and religious significance. They are everywhere particularly in the hills. When coming across them you are supposed to circle them clockwise 3 times and or clap three times.


It was not particularly cold, my quick check of the weather station on the roof of school was showing -7c and it was only 10 o'clock. It was going to get warmer for sure so I packed my bag, adding windproof over trousers and a windproof jacket but set off in what is my most minimal clothing of the year so far. Hat and gloves for sure, softshell fleece hoody certainly, but 3/4 running tights and shorts were a bit of a gamble.

Turns out it was perfect, a little chilly on the run out but perfect when I hit the hills. I had been scoping out a route along a prominent ridge visible from school and while I was sure I wanted to run the ridge back towards UB, I was also sure I'd never find it from the south so up from the north I went.
Ovoo 1

Just get to the next ovoo and make a decision about where to go next was the idea. There was still a fair amount of snow and ice in places on the way up and making it to what I thought was going to be the 2nd ovoo, but in fact turned out to be the third was something of a challenge, requiring hands, feet and lunges for stability of small trees.
Up that ridge to the rocky outcrop and ovoo 2 (except it was 3)



Not sure it really counts but ovoo 2 was a surprise
I was somewhat surprised when I got to the top and found a couple of gents brewing up a cup of tea. We exchanged cameras took some photos and then I plunged on heading for the next ovoo. 
That's ovoo 4 in the distance

trail to ovoo 4 visible as a white line behind me


When I got there I would decide whether to either carry on or turn back towards a different ovoo in the next valley west. I reached the ovoo sooner than expected, feeling good and was again a little startled as realised belatedly I was not alone.


Got a bit of a shock to find myself in the company of a goat herder


Ovoo 4 looking back to UB




It was warm - maybe even above zero in the sun - and the skies were blue and the trail looked obvious, until that is it disappeared at the next rocky outcrop. A quick scramble down and round soon had me back on the right track. As I hit the trees the snow deepened but at least there was no getting lost.
Ovoo 5

A lone trail marker


I soon found the trail down to the meditation centre and decided to take it rather than head for White Circle. It was steep, snowy in places, icy in others and always slippy, it was grin inducing stuff, but occasionally a little sore as there were one or two tumbles. There were occasions when I resorted to squatting using my feet as skis, hands as steering poles and just tobogganed sections more out of control then under it. Ironically I was listening to a 'Talk Ultra' podcast at the time extolling the virtues of training to run downhill. There was little or no running down this slope, hopping from tree to tree, sliding, skating and falling were all practiced but there was little or no running until the  very end of the off road and by then it was pleasant to get back on to the rubble that forms the road and path back to Zaisan.

22km, 10km of which were relatively flat, alongside the still frozen river, 720m ascent, just under 4 hours later, tired, hungry and in need of a cold frothy beverage I  made it home, happy.

5 ovoos ridge run garmin

Thursday, 28 February 2013

Ain't No Mountain High Enough (until you have to run back down it)

Oh Oh it's all going a bit Motown!

It was a mild -5C when I set off on Sunday. I ran passed the guard hut where we had been detained the day before, but this time on the road not the wrong side of the armco "fence", and instead of going out onto the river (which would have meant stopping to add the spikes to my shoes) I went along the dyke and through the construction sites. Having dodged the small pack of ferral dogs I slowed to a yomp up towards the mountain. I was aware that it was not perhaps the wisest thing  but...it was sunny...it was 'warm'...the pollution...well ok it hung in the valley making everything look a little foggy but I went anyway. After all Sarah and I did this as a walk and as a run last September - and it was a small compared to the distance and elevation I was running in Japan -what could go wrong?

It was beautiful! The Ger camp at the base of the hill (7km into the run) was busy, the car park was full. I jogged down the road and up passed the gers feeling great, despite the heavy pack (5kg of 'what if it all goes wrong clothes' snow pants, down jacket, extra hat, gloves, polar buff, socks, food, a survival bag -you get the picture) and then began the yomp up the hill, and out onto 'White Circle' the clearing at the top. The track was in great shape, slightly softening  packed snow making for great grip and the clothing layers just about right. The path was busy with everything from young ladies carrying bags full of bottles, to men pushing 'off road' pushchairs, to fully equipped hikers and boys in jeans and 'sneakers'. I enjoyed the climb- not my fastest ascent but it was steady, the people were out, the sun was shining, the air was clean and I was pleased to be out there, "ain't no mountain high enough..."

Looking back at the Ger Camp


I heard them before I got anywhere near the top. The laughing and cheering of the crowds. There were a couple of small groups and a couple of larger groups some playing Red Rover others sitting and drinking or cooking up some grub.

The trail I usually take was not obvious at all, it's indistinct at the best of times but in this case the myriad footprints disappeared into un-trodden snow which ever way I went. There were a few clear trails but non heading the way I wanted to go so it was back the way I'd come. Apparently the well worn trail leads down and then back up to Tsetsegun, the nominal peak of the Boghd Khan range. It looked good but I was conscious of the time so I saved it for another day - "ain't no mountain high enough"

I count running down hill as a strength, even on steep technical terrain I generally move pretty quickly and 'brake' lightly, but on this day, by half way I was completely done. My quads were screaming! I was enjoying myself but knew the consequences were going to be severe.

The rest of the journey down and the trip home was a painful run, jog, walk. I knew I was in trouble when, on the roadside, as I passed the guards hut, a chubby old local in multiple jog pants and a pair of 1980's trainers shuffled passed me. Four days later and I still can't walk down stairs without wincing. It's better today (Thursday) at least I only look like an old man for the first couple of steps then the pain levels out and I move a bit more freely but my right quad still won't fire properly allowing my knee to overextend occasionally with comical partial falls as a result.

"Ain't no mountain high enough"...huh?   In the sage words of B.A. Baracus "What you talking about fool?"

Perhaps a long run of 25km and 750m vertical was not the wisest after 6 months when  10km and 3m vertical constituted a big day.

I might be fit to do it again by next weekend.

Sunday, 26 August 2012

Trail run (kind of)

Sarah and I set out from school on Friday to have what would be Sarah's first run in (or rather out of) UB. The jog up to the Tuul river was it's usual dusty dirty run in the gutter affair but thankfully it is only just over a km long before you get to the gates of the presidential palace. There was a large work party weeding and picking litter just outside the gates, as others erected marquees in the grounds behind the gate, clearly something big was going to be happening.
We turned left (east) and jogged down the road to the site of several ovoo at a site where there are also, apparently, some ancient petroglyphs, though we didn't go in search of them.

We then carried on for a little way before turning and hiking up onto a ridge, before turning round and running down and back to school via the river wall.

A very pleasant way to end a week.

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Ultra Trail Mount Fuji: STY

Shizuoka to Yamanashi.

So a brief explanation may be in order...

This race was scheduled to held last year but was cancelled due to the earthquake.

The main race, the Ultra Trail Mount Fuji, would have been the first 100 mile race in Japan, though there is now another race of that length. It is also the first and so far only race granted sister status to the Ultra Trail Mount Blanc, which outside of the USA is recognised as the premier event in ultra distance mountain racing. It certainly, even in this it's first year, commanded the biggest international elite field ever assembled in Japan. There were top racers from USA, France, Canada, Hong Kong, China, Spain and of course the very best that Japan could muster. It also had a few other names, if any of you have read 'Born to Run' - Barefoot Ted was racing and Scott Jurek was slated to start, but for whatever reason didn't.

The UTMF promo video

As it says in the video the idea was to run around Mt Fuji starting and finishing in Kawaguchiko on the edge of the lake - for the people doing the full distance of 156km that would mean 8500m of ascent (for those of you preferring imperial measurement that's 100 miles and just short of 28,000 feet) be completed within 48hrs.

There was also a 'fun run' version, called STY, starting in Shizuoka and finishing Yamanashi, in the same place, Kawaguchiko. A mere 82km and 4200m of ascent to be completed in 26 hours, or 50+miles and nearly 14,000ft of ascent (slightly more than climbing Kiliminjaro from base camp to summit). It was this that Linda and I had signed up to do.

We undoubtedly had a great time but it was without question physically the hardest thing I've had to do and I came close to not making it.

But back to the beginning.

We left Kobe on Thursday night and travelled up by trains - lots of trains, getting to Kawaguchiko about 11:00pm. The morning saw us up for registration, compulsory bag check, shopping, and cheering as the 100 mile runners went off.
Start line of UTMF 

Gear check and final preparation for the 100 mile runners

Now to get all that gear back in that little bag

Got to love that Taiko and these kids were good

Hal Koerner 

And they are off

100 miles to get back to where you started

Just run right round that then.


An attempt to find a convenience store with any kind of food left in it was a bit of a wash out as 2000 hungry runners and their supporters had been through town like a bunch of locusts. Shelves, entire shops were cleared of anything looking edible.

Another attempt to find a noodle restaurant for dinner failed and we headed for the station. There are always restaurants at the station, and so we discovered a tiny Italian, serving terrific sausage pizza and huge plates of spaghetti. Brilliant just what we needed and Linda does like sausage!

We were up nice and early to get the 6:10 bus from Kawaguchiko to the start in Kodomo no kuni. Everything was going according to plan. We were so pleased we had the opportunity to register, ask questions, do the gear checks on Friday. The queues were huge at the start, and the stresses were obvious, even having got off the second bus to arrive, the lines of people were long and registration was due to close just 20 minutes after that. It didn't - it couldn't, there were still people in line. It did all get sorted out, and everyone was ready in time for the 10:00am start.


We met up with Makoto, a friend of Linda's at the start of the STY and then killed time just chatting and making many trips to the bathroom. During one such visit I managed to trip and fall into the road at the feet of a group of Japanese people who helped me up and made sure I was ok. It was not the last time I would see one of them.

The wait for the start was accompanied by some professional Taiko drummers, always a big improvement to "Eye of the Tiger" the usual soundtrack to these things in other parts of the world. And then we were off.


The race breaks down into 3 very individual sections, unsurprisingly, from the start to A8, A8-A9 and A9 to the finish. Each section around 28km, and that middle section definitely the hardest, slowest 28k I've ever covered.


The first section was relatively flat there were some lovely sections on wide 'fire road' type trail, a bit of tarmac and then the single track, which ran pretty much under the powerlines, lots of little ups and downs with plastic steps hammered into the mud bank. They were damned slippery and more than one person took a tumble. There was no real opportunity to move faster, or slower than the people in front and behind as there were few passing places.  It was fun but hot. Linda and I ran pretty much in sight of each other the whole way to A8, in a little over 3.5 hours, where I met Taku sitting at the side of the road just outside the aid station (he'd been forced to drop from the UTMF with stomach problems). Sarah was waiting for us just inside the timing mats, with encouragement, tape, food, a big smile, and what ever else we needed. We were so pleased to see her.
Single track - lots of single track

but few opportunities for overtaking


Entering A8

Queuing  for the compulsory kit check
Waterproof Jacket? Check. Long pants? Check. Survival blanket? Check. Portable toilet? Check. Go!


Then came the "Mountains of Truth" I had hoped for a 7-8hr crossing but it was not to be. There were a few km of road to lead into the mountains, then a couple of km of steady away climbing before it went vertical for a very long time, by the time I had reached the top of Chojadake just 5 or 6km from A8 (it had taken over 2 hours) I was very tired and concerned about the water. I'd filled my camelback giving me about 2 litres and also filled a bottle adding another 650ml but it was going fast. The 500ml bottle they gave us sometime later was a real bonus, but for some who went on to the mountain with less I'm certain they had a very thirsty last few kilometres off that mountain and into the aid station.

The climbing just went on and on. It was a procession of people all moving at a snail's pace up very steep, narrow trail. Every now and then I'd be forced to step off the trail and take a breather. At first it was just a breather and maybe something to eat, then it was a breather and a sit down. But shortly after it became dark several of  the breaks became power naps and I'd 'wake' cold but ready for the next onslaught up that damned mountain. Demoralising as the progress up the mountain was it was no where near as demoralising as the progress down the other side. The trail was again narrow, and was steep and slippery. Again there were huge sections of very, very slow progress. The way down probably took as long if not longer than the way up. There were large sections of very little movement. There was lots of time spent staring at the eerie light of a 100 headtorches shining intently at the ground and the odd shapes the reflective strips made when they caught in someone's light. It was slow, tiring, frustrating and difficult. My mood was not helped by the fact that when there were runnable sections my indigestion made running very uncomfortable. It was about that time I decided I did not need to do a big race ever again, I would find good trail, pack a slightly bigger bag and just run a very long way by myself. I was well over standing in line for 11+hours.

I reached Aid Station 9 Motosu-ko at 10 past midnight some 10.5 hours after leaving A8, I don't think I have ever done anything as hard. If the busses had been running allowing me to drop and make it back to a hot shower, a warm bed and a beer I would have run straight on. But they weren't, so I went into the aid station changed my shirt cleaned myself up, dug all the detritus out of my shoes and went in search of deer curry and rice. The place felt a little like a scene from MASH and I half expected to hear the shout of "Incoming!" and hear helicopters.

I found a spare seat and sat down to eat my curry. It was good, and when the man opposite pointed to the curry and said "Hot!" I had to agree. It was just then the young man who had been dozing at the end of the table with his head in his hands looked up, and pointed at me. It was Makoto. He asked where Linda was but I honestly had no idea. She had been behind me when we hit the first big climb, but could easily have moved ahead while I was dozing at the side of the trail. As it turns out at almost exactly the same time as I was having that conversation with Makoto, Linda was stood outside of the warm cafe room, drinking and refilling bottles, just 10m away. I was, in fact probably looking straight at her, but we didn't see each other.

I finished my curry, sorted my kit, filled my bottle with coke said my goodbyes to Makoto, who was planning on staying a little longer. He aimed on making it to the finish just in time to head straight for the onsen which opened at 6:00am. He'd been there since 10:30 and reckoned to leave around 2:00am. So sometime after 1:00am I headed back out into the night, and hit the pavement! Time for the music. I'd just sorted the earphones and was about to cross into the ancient forest park when I caught up with a Japanese lady, who knew who I was, or at least recognised me from the start. I think she was one the people I had thrown myself at the feet of in the carpark earlier. She chatted away about working in fashion accessories, and having recently been in Kobe to see a client, and how the forest was scary, and how all her friends were sleeping back in A9. I stayed with her for a while. I didn't like the idea of leaving her in the woods, because while you were never far from someone else, for the first time on that journey you could actually believe you were alone in the dark, and clearly she was a little spooked. Eventually we caught up with a pair of 100 milers who were making good time and I took the opportunity to 'jog on'.

Running through the forest was lovely. I was seemingly alone for the first time, moving at my own pace for the first time and just enjoying the night. Then I spotted him! In the distance, occasionally caught in my headlight. For a brief second, before my mind began to twist it into something more tangible, I saw a man in glowing spats and a glowing fedora dancing down the trail. Now the mind plays some wonderful tricks on you but I knew this wasn't an hallucination. I had no idea what it was however. There was definitely a man in front of me - and his feet were glowing and his hat was glowing, and his feet were 'dancing', not quite moonwalking, more high stepping. I had a quick giggle as I imagined I was jogging through a Japanese primeval forest at 2 in the morning behind a dancing Michael Jackson impersonator. Turns out it wasn't Michael, or spats or even a fedora. The runner in front had huge reflective strips on the heels of his shoes, and every time he took a stride the heels seemed to lift really high. He also had a huge reflective band on his cap making it look way bigger than a cap as his head jogged as he ran. It was a truly entertaining distraction for quite some time, and I actually felt a little disappointed when I caught him, made sense of the glowing, and moved passed back into my own isolated little pocket of light.

Then came the road. Lot's of yomping up hill on the sidewalk. It didn't bother me as much as it clearly bothered others. I like a good forced march and I caught lots of people. However it was supposed to be 13km from A9 to the water station at the ice caves, and while my head was undoubtedly fuzzy I think it was more like 15km. Eventually I got there though, and went off in search of more coke. They did have some, but only super caffeinated small tins of stuff and after my stomach problems I wasn't prepared to risk it.

The climbing started just after that and my watch died almost immediately. 17 hours - not bad but if I am going to do these things again I need to find someway of keeping it charged - or buy a shiny new Suunto Ambit. Anyway the climb was much more to my taste, the trail was wide enough that people could pass me without me stepping off the course, and consequently wide enough that I could pass them. It was also far more doable, the incline, while occasionally steep, was never the nigh on vertical that climbing in the big mountains had been. I hit the top just as the sun came up and Fuji came into view. A very special moment, but not one I lingered to savour as the down hill began almost immediately. I loved it. My legs were alive again and I began to run, really run, for probably the first time in the whole race. Not jogging anymore I was actually moving across the ground well, the music was loud, the sun was coming up, I was feeling strong and... hello...what do you know? There was Linda. We had changed position at A9 and she was making good progress. I slowed to check she was ok and plunged on to Alabama 3 "I ain't seen the sunshine since the 6th of June but I tell you this, don't call a Dr, I'm going to get better yeah" which seemed very appropriate and brought a smile to my face. Funny how smiling as you run makes you feel so much better. The music just got better and better, the smile bigger and bigger. I was having a blast and moving quickly though the trees in the brightening dawn. Amazing sometimes how some music just hits the right spot at exactly the right time. Then all of a sudden there were steps, 100's of bloody steps, non of which were even, all of which were too small for me to jog down, and my pace slowed to a pained snail's pace again. No music could help with that, but the sight of Lake Kawaguchiko getting closer certainly made it bearable.

Not me, just some random runner making it off the trail
Eventually the steps spat me back out onto the road beside the lake and I reached for my phone to call Sarah, waking her up at about 5:00am. and so began the slow jog round the lake to the finish. I was very, very pleased to see Fuji again as I came round the final corner, and there was Sarah, smiling and cheering. One last effort and I was in, 19hrs 34 minutes after I'd set out from Kodomo No Kuni I was back in Kawaguchiko and looking for my first beer in a week.



The view as you round the last corner was pretty special
At last

Never mind the protein bar where's the recovery beer!














Happy to be finished
She had room for a fleece - where?

Not the first time Linda had shaken Mr Kubaraki-san's hand, you may get to see her chatting away in Japanese on the NHK TV coverage.

Mutual congratulations

I had a blast, the further away I get from this event the more fun it was, but it took a lot of people to make it work out. Obviously I could not have made it without Sarah, Linda and Kaho (who did all the entering, translating, phoning, and general Japanese language assistance) but I was also really, really pleased with all the staff and volunteers who were out there pointing the way, cheering, encouraging and just being visible. My biggest thanks must go to the people at the aid stations, particularly A9, which really did have the air of a field hospital when I got inside there. They were astonishingly patient and attentive and provided, good cheer, and good food to a bunch of very weary, sleepy and just plain beaten runners. Deer curry and rice, what an inspired decision that was, just the right thing for me then and so, so good, oh and Coke - A9 had lots and lots of Coke.

My splits - Transit time is the time of day I entered those stations


STY (or at least the first 17 hours of it) I manually added the remainder but it doesn't show on the map just the times, it also seems to have completely missed a not so small hill just before A9, maybe I will save up for the Suunto.

We headed back to the hotel for a shower and a few hours sleep before returning to the cafe near the finish line to cheer in the remaining competitors, and they kept coming. Right up to the cut off times people were jogging down the road and into the finish with huge smiles and an air of pride and satisfaction that you could feel from where we were.
Clean rested and fed 

UTMF award ceremony


Definitely the hardest thing I've had to do and definitely something I am very proud of. Would I do it again if I was staying in Japan? As the winner said when asked that question. "Ask me again in a couple of months".