Reaching the Peak - 54 Minutes Of Flow

My legs feel relaxed as I drop out of the woods into the car park and on to the main street; the rhythm destroying transition from steep roots to flat asphalt not affecting me like in the previous three years. Hitting the seafront I involuntarily punch the air as drivers beep their approval and the gathered crowd clap and cheer.  Needlessly I hurdle a sign on the pavement before cruising through the finish line and releasing a guttural roar, pure emotion cascading out.  I'm not in control of my actions, the essential link between brain and body is somehow removed, a severing that took place sometime prior to the race and remained missing throughout.  I've smashed a course record that seemed previously untouchable and it felt painless, almost effortless.  I feel that I may have discovered the most elusive of sporting qualities, the concept of flow, and it feels incredible!

I have a love/love relationship with Slieve Donard, Northern Ireland's highest peak.  Rising 853 metres directly out of the striking coastline of Newcastle, County Down it has provided me with some of my most satisfying athletic achievements.  Last year I completed a 3hr 25min Donard Hat-Trick as an extreme training exercise in preparation for the World Running Champs in mountainous Colorado.  This year I completed a different kind of Donard hat-trick, winning Ireland's oldest and most prestigious mountain race for the third consecutive year.  It's the peak that initially inspired my interest in fell running when I read about the exploits of superhuman athletes who could somehow reach its distant summit and return in under an hour.  Now I can count myself amongst that elite group, a triumph of hard work and self belief over age and inexperience.

My first attempt at the Slieve Donard race was back in 2012, two years after Stevie Cunningham tore up the record books with a blistering 54:33 winning time.  I ran pretty well for a newcomer, finishing 7th in 1:00:46 but it was a result that brought more frustration than satisfaction.  Position mattered little to me as I never considered that I'd be a contender for honours but I badly wanted to break the hour.  The worst aspect of this was the knowledge that I'd be compelled to return the following year and go through the sheer agony of dragging myself over the steep and treacherous ground once again. So twelve months on I returned fitter, wiser and with better technique, aiming purely to knock 47 seconds off my time, thus allowing me to retire from competition happy in the knowledge that I could do 'the hour'.  That year saw a mini blizzard decimate the lead group high on the slopes and I found myself alone out front. The shock of winning took literally weeks to sink in.  My name was on the trophy with a 57:01 and some kind folk were even suggesting that I could've troubled the course record if conditions had been slightly less ridiculous for a mid-May day.

With that optimistic inspiration in mind I returned the following year with the sole goal of beating Cunningham's mark.  A weaker field left the result in little doubt.  I'd continued to improve rapidly in the sport and my closest rivals were away with the International squad so it was mainly the fast time that I sought.  I buried myself on the climb, summitting in 38:42 but my legs were hollowed out and I limped down, collapsing over the line incredibly in an identical 57:01.  I never considered it possible that I'd win the Slieve Donard race and be left disappointed but in truth I felt none of the buzz of my previous totally unexpected victory.  My ambitions had shifted and I'd fallen way short of the 55 minute times that characterised the wins of the top previous champions.

Apparently pushing the pace from the start!

And so to 2015 and an anticipated epic head to head with the most exciting prospect that Irish mountain running has seen in a long time.  My friend and occasional training partner Seamus Lynch has propelled himself to the top of the elite pile this year.  He's served his apprenticeship over previous seasons and pushed me to new levels in 2014 in my desperate attempts to keep ahead of him.  After a Winter that demonstrated both his improving speed and widening versatility, victorious in Cross Country races as well as 10k's, he's crushed everyone in the hills so far this season, winning everything that he's entered.  The knowledge that he's never beaten me on an open mountain race kept me confident but although the official pundits had us as joint favourites I knew that the majority fancied Lynch for the win.  My preparation generally went excellently and even a flare up of a stomach ulcer three weeks before the race allowed some enforced recovery time which ended up as a positive.  Nine days before Donard I achieved a long held ambition of taking the title on the brutal 'Binnian to the Top' race on a route that climbs a tortuous 2,000ft in just two miles.  It holds both special importance for me as venue for my first ever fell race and also special frustration after three consecutive second places! Following that success every session went as planned and I maintained firm self control to drop a few extra pounds to keep my weight to an absolute healthy minimum. With every quality session my self belief grew.  It's hard to explain but my psychological strength grows very gradually, day by day, with every strong training performance and every day of minimising unnecessary calorific intake. When asked by others I maintained my line that a sub-55 minute time was my only ambition but with a week to go I began to re-frame my objectives.  I could feel something special brewing.  As ever I visualised every inch of the race, playing out possible permutations in my mind.  What to do if I find myself behind, how to react if I'm alone out front, when to attack, what lines to take.  It sounds like overkill but these races are won as much in the mind as the legs.  A single thought kept returning to my mind and that was the commentary of race chief Joe McCann as I ran the home straight to win and then his shocked proclamation that I'd beaten the record.  This theme dominated my thoughts, a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Race day was simply perfect.  An early morning jog felt good with the pain of recent Plantar Fasciitis in my heel flaring less than expected.  My kids were really placid, minimising race day stress and as I drove to Newcastle I felt an excitement devoid of the usual nauseating nervousness.  I managed to secure the last parking place right next to the start area and was signed on and registered with ninety minutes to spare.  And that's when strange feelings started occurring.  With time to kill I went to visit my wife Anna at work for a chat and as I did I became aware of a total calm, all nerves dissipating and anticipation disappearing.  The best way to describe it is that time was no longer relevant. Instead of the usual longing for the event to be over so I could release the pent up tension, I felt that I wasn't even sure that the race hadn't happened already.  Reading that back sounds ridiculous but it was genuinely how it felt.  Most people have heard of being 'in the zone', a state of intense focus on a singular goal but this went beyond that to a state where the goal was no longer tangible.  I felt almost absent, out of body as we lined up and the whistle sounded.

Leading out towards the open mountain

I went easy down the road, legs moving without cerebral input and breathing barely registering.  It's only seeing the photos afterwards that I've realised that I opened up a lead on this section, shaping the fast end of the race into the kind of arrow you see when the pace is high.  The lower forested sections of the course are steep and heavily rooted but my feet found their way instinctively and I pressed on, still feeling remarkably comfortable and waiting to be passed allowing someone else to dictate the pace.  Crossing the river on to the open mountain I continued to move smoothly up to the famous 'black stairs' a rocky outcrop that runners pick their way through with varying degrees of caution or abandon.  It was at this ridiculously steep section that I noticed a gap opening back to Seamus, only a small one but on ground that wild in gradient even a few feet is enough to constitute a breakaway. Under normal circumstances I might've been tempted to accelerate and try to open a potentially race winning gap but my tactical mind was firmly overcome by the overwhelming calmness.  As I pushed on up the open moorland I maintained the rhythm, lacking both the usual muscular pain and also missing the common leader's sense of feeling hunted by the 200 hungry runners behind.  I never look behind me when I race, it serves no function but the temptation is often overwhelming.  On Saturday it seemed irrelevant, if Seamus was back on my shoulder I wasn't concerned and when I moved out right to gain better, more runnable ground I expected Seamy to appear on my left taking his usual aggressive direct lines.

The masses hit the Black Stairs

I topped out in exactly 37 minutes.  My previous fastest ascent was 36:45 on my return from the Worlds last year when I was benefitting from some time spent running at high altitude.  However, that time didn't include the two road minutes of the race route so by that reckoning I'd just done the climb in 35 minutes!  Between the Northerly summit cairn and the actual summit cairn is fairly flat and it's essential to sprint this section on the way up to maximise any gaps on chasers.  A friend on the summit has assured me that I looked in a fair degree of pain as I fought the vicious headwind and turned to descend but inside my head the calm remained.  A heavily folded ankle simply sprang back into place and I dropped my head and sprinted as I passed Seamus still finishing his upward journey. I could see that I had a gap but I know that Lynch is an incredible descender, just the right combination of nerve and technique and I knew that he'd be dropping like a man possessed, whittling away my lead.  As I passed numerous ascending runners I was aware of a strange sense of enjoyment that I've never experienced on that technical, ankle straining plummet before.  I was also aware of at least four people saying 'go on Seamus' to me, unsurprised to see a flash of red Newcastle AC running kit but not aware that it was hanging off my back and not his.

My pre-race visualisation had always included a mantra that stated if I was leading as I crossed the river then the race would be mine.  I'm so familiar with the bottom section and it seems to favour my slightly skinnier and shorter body as we weave through trees and jump through slippery rocks and roots at full speed.  The auto pilot continued to guide me off the final steep section, leaping the ditch and hitting the car park where this blog began.

Coming back from the mountain alone

The finish straight was met with an overwhelming euphoria.  Yes I pumped my fist in the air, yes I pointed at the crowds, yes I hurdled that sign and yes I screamed out loud as I crossed the line.  But no, none of those actions were planned or even conscious.  The disconnect remained, mind and body working harmoniously but independently.

I've been told I looked fresh at the finish.  I certainly felt fresh.  Adrenaline, endorphins, pure delight, who knows what was in control of my mental faculties, but physically I felt good for another lap.  I bounced from handshake to hug and was vaguely conscious of Joe McCann announcing the new record.  On the one hand it was a huge shock as all the way up I'd been telling myself I'd better start putting some effort in if I wanted a decent time.  On the other hand it was no shock at all, I'd already heard him announce it tens of times before in my head the week before the race.

Reading this back I'm aware that it could be seen as disrespectful, claiming that the biggest performance of my life was actually pretty effortless whilst others were burying themselves behind.  I haven't written this blog to boast.  I'm actually trying to find some kind of explanation for myself, if only so I can replicate that performance again someday.  Another bizarre happening in the run up to the race is that I couldn't get an image of Pete Bland out of my head from the photos in Richard Askwith's brilliant 'Feet In The Clouds' homage to all things fell running.  Bland is leaping in the air in total ecstacy after finally winning the Ambleside race in 1968.  He was quoted as saying 'it was like being in a dream - I had no pain'.  All I know is that I now understand what he meant.

Pete Bland after Ambleside 1968 (wearing kit borrowed off Barney Rubble?)

And so to the facts and figures.  I finished in 53:45, slicing 48 seconds off the previous 'modern day' record that involves the four minutes plus of road running to and from the mountain proper.  The previous record for 'just' the mountain was 50:30 held by Ian Holmes, a man sometimes described as 'the greatest fell runner of all time'.  My mountain time was definitely faster than that and I'd confidently, if totally speculatively go so far as to say that I may be the only person in history to run the mountain in less than 50 minutes.  Other genuine greats have also been surpassed including Irish athletic legend, World Championship medallist and all time Snowdon ascent record holder Robbie Bryson who's fastest win was 52:28 in 1999 and nine time Donard winner Deon McNeilly who's 1998 personal best stands at 55:08, neither including the road.

Let me state this in clear, unquestionable terms.  I'm not suggesting for one minute that my abilities are on par with those legends of the sport.  I've undoubtedly now made my mark but those men won all the big races in many record times that have stood for decades and may well stand for all time. What I have done is helped prove that there is a new generation of Mournes based runners who will hopefully be viewed in the same league as those few (and there are others I've not mentioned).  I've also moved my psychological goalposts and now believe that I can compete in the biggest races.  I dearly hope that I'll get one last run out for the NI squad at the Snowdon International race and I'll attack it without fear.  Likewise, with an entry for Ben Nevis and the World Masters taking place in North Wales I may well be looking for a blaze of glory end to my running career!

I've stated my desire to stop competing on numerous occasions.  The pressure I put on myself to achieve can be debilitating and effects my health, my mental state and those around me who have to put up with my moods and singular focus. Unfortunately I can't compete purely for enjoyment, and the quest for results sometimes hinders my appreciation of the pure joys of being able to get amongst the peaks at will, moving at speed and appreciating the connection between man and nature.  It's a sad affliction but one that I have to accept.  I just wonder whether having had a brief glimpse of that unique mental and physical state which I've best heard described as 'flow' will leave me happy to stop, content in the knowledge that I once reached that level or will it leave me forever chasing the unique set of circumstances that generated it in the first place.

Only time will tell but in the meantime I'm just enjoying these memories...

Achieving ambition. The Donard hat trick revisited

Back in 2012 I was looking for a new challenge.  I was enjoying a new lease of life in a new sport and realising that I had a bit of potential in mountain running.  I wanted something that was achievable but seriously challenging and so the Donard Hat Trick was born, boasting three full ascents and descents of Northern Ireland's highest mountain and giving a 15 mile route with 2550m of climbing and obviously the same amount of descending.  Tough in itself, but the real killer was that to complete the challenge I decided on a maximum 3.5 hours to do it!  If you read the link there you'll realise that not only did I never achieve it, I never even got round to attempting it!  I also failed spectacularly to convince any of the elite mountain runners I asked to give it a go either.  Consensus was that it was a bit too ambitious/mind numbing!

Don't get me wrong, I had a good stab at it but limited myself to double ascents culminating in a 2:19:26 (the 1:19 in the old blog is a typo!).  That theoretically put me on target but the reality was that I was almost unable to walk after the two times round and the thought of putting in a 1hr 10m third lap was laughable.  Two pretty successful years of running and racing later, quite unexpectedly the Donard hat trick sailed back into my consciousness.

Slieve Donard in the distance on a much nicer day.  Funnily enough I didn't take any pics today! 

I'm heading off to the famous Pikes Peak race in Colorado in two weeks, representing NI in the World Long Distance Mountain Running Champs.  The route for that race is an all uphill 13.3 miles gaining around 2500m of elevation.  To make matters much worse, the finish is above 14,000 feet, a height where the limited oxygen can leave you gasping for air when you're just standing still!  Extensive research has sadly taught me that for us sea levellers there's nothing we can do when competing at altitude except turn up a month in advance and acclimatise.  Also sadly, sport's funding bodies don't value us mountain runners very highly and so there's no chance of our team being given that opportunity despite physiology tests proving that top mountain runners are at least on a par with top Olympians.  If it's not Olympic or Commonwealth, there's no cash available (not that I'm bitter!).  Anyway, I'm digressing.  Realising that I couldn't simulate high altitude I decided that at least I could try to recreate the difficulty of the Pikes Peak route.  I was fortunate enough to spend an amazing month with the family in Chamonix and Lake Garda during June and July where I was able to put in some big runs with big ascents, adding a new level of endurance to the fitness gained from a great season of competing in Ireland.  Upon returning home I was looking for a breakthrough session that would test me to the degree that the Worlds will, whilst also demonstrating to myself the pacing and nutrition approaches I'll need in order to perform my best in Colorado.  With a bit of thinking the answer was staring me in the face, it was time to resurrect the Hat Trick.

I planned to put the attempt at the end of a heavy training week which included a fast, hilly 18 mile trail run on Monday and a double Donard on Wednesday along with two shorter recovery runs.  In the end I only ran a single Donard on the Wed as I thought my legs were a feeling a bit heavy.  In actuality I ended up feeling great and knocked out a sub 1hr lap which felt so easy that a couple of hours later I'd forgotten that I'd actually trained that day.  A rest day on Friday and I was all prepped and psyched, and then I saw the weather forecast!  Torrential rain and a weather warning for County Down wasn't part of the plan and I felt an initial pang of annoyance but then I saw that the wind was coming from the North giving me potentially a rare tailwind for much of the climb and I perked up a lot.  I don't care about getting soaking but pushing into a headwind repeatedly gets boring very quickly.  The other great motivator was that the Seven Sevens race was taking place in the Mournes that day, a race I was originally going to enter but wimped out when I got injured scoping the course out.  The winner of that race is always aiming to go sub 4hrs and I knew that the winner was likely to be my occasional training partner Seamy Lynch.  A quick text to Seamy and a bet was made, whoever finished their race first was promised a free lunch!

So to this morning.  I prepared as I always do for a race, eating well 2.5 hrs before and then getting as much fluid in as possible.  I planned to start at 9:58, just before the 10am start time for the Sevens so I wouldn't be interfering in the race at all.  You get a lot of thinking time when running so I think the best way to describe my attempt is by sharing my own internal dialogue.

Lap 1
Start easy, find a place to stash a water bottle for later.  11 mins at the ice house is about right but I feel bloated, I clearly ate too much.  I'm sick in my mouth a bit but swallow it knowing I'll need those calories later.  The flatter mid section feels great, I've found a good pace and rhythm and it feels totally effortless.  There's a slight tailwind which feels brilliant, I lose count of the amount of times I've battered into a headwind up here.  On to the really steep steps and the wind is picking up.  Through the col and onto the summit ridge and it's blowing a gale, the icy rain is battering me and it can't be much above zero degrees with the wind chill.  My jacket goes on, I can't see it coming off again today.  Hit the top in 43:20, about perfect.  My legs feel great, no strain at all, time for a steady descent.  Eat three jelly babies, one makes a bid for freedom and jumps back out of my mouth.  Good measured descent, I hit the bottom at 1:10:45, close enough to 3hr 30 pace and feeling totally relaxed.

Lap 2
How the hell are you meant to take on a gel when running up a 25% hill?  I can't even open the stupid thing.  Finally bite the top off and extract the remains that haven't squirted all over my hands.  Grab the stashed bottle and have a quick swig.  Legs feel fantastic, still really easy and totally different to my old double Donards.  Loving the confused looks on the faces of people who have seen me ascending twice now.  Not even out of breath so saying a cheery hello to everyone I meet.  There are some miserable bastards on the hill today, can you really not muster a reply?!  Kudos to the Dub fella who asks if I've forgotten my wallet!  I tell him I left my fags at the top.  Meet Jim Patterson, local running legend walking down.  He tells me he knows I'm in training but today is the wrong weather.  I respect Jim's opinion and his observation worries me.  Five minutes later I meet Anne Sandford, NI team selector and she asks whether this is my second or third ascent and gives me some support, I feel instantly much better.  The track is now a stream higher up on the mountain and the wind smashes me again on the summit ridge.  43:35 up, delighted to see that my pacing is near perfect so far.  All three jelly babies make it to my stomach this time, now for the descent.  I get a strange sensation of enjoyment, real enjoyment!  The descent feels fast and smooth, feet precise, plenty of grip.  So busy waxing lyrical about my new Inov8 X Talon shoes that I catch an edge and go over on my damaged ankle.  No amount of taping would stop that.  Familiar feelings of nausea but I know I can run this one off, concentrate, concentrate.  Hit the bottom in 2:19:53.  I've clawed time back and I still feel strong.  Last time I was in this position I was virtually crawling across the car park!

Lap 3
Better effort on the gel this time, learned behaviours!  The legs feel a bit heavier, calves stiffening for the first time and the quads know they've been busy.  Still hit 11 mins to the ice house so the pacing is still good but it feels harder this time.  I feel a bit fuzzy around the edges, slight hallucinations in my peripheral vision, other runners.  I'm convinced I've slowed but want to give myself a chance at 3:30 with a good descent.  Grind out the final section of the summit ridge, hit the top and touch the tower, glance at the watch, 3:03:03!  Incredible, my fastest ascent of the three at 43:10.  Amazing effort at constant pacing too.  Realise that I've still got plenty in the tank and with a decent descent should complete the challenge within the time.  Feet aren't so precise now but I'm attacking hard.  No need to hold back.  Loving the temperature rise as I descend.  Grab the stashed bottle, no way I'm going to come back up for it.  Out of the trees and sprint, a genuine smooth, relaxed sprint for the finish in the car park.  3:25:13.  Incredible.  I let out an involuntary whoop which gets me chatting to the walkers who hit the bottom at the same time as me.  The time has blown me away but more than that, I still feel strong.  I keep running back to the van, reckon I've got another ascent in me.  Pretty sure I've never felt this fit in my life, delighted and really excited.

So there it is.  A challenge completed and a really gratifying demonstration of how fitness can change and evolve.  I thought I was fit in 2012 but clearly now I'm on a different plane altogether.  The longer runs I've been doing have obviously contributed massively but the ease of it all, particularly in really trying conditions has astounded me.  With three ascents all within 25 seconds of eachother and progressively faster laps culminating in a 1:05:20 for the last one it's safe to say that I got my pacing pretty spot on.  The nutrition went well despite Fort Knox gel packets and freedom seeking jelly babies.  All in all I genuinely couldn't be more satisfied.  I just hope that I can somehow pull off a similar performance at altitude!

As a postscript, I let Seamy off the bet.  He won the Sevens in a very respectable 4:02 despite some questionable navigation and frankly it's a lot harder than my triple Donard.  I think the only fair thing to do is for him to do the Hat Trick and see who's time is faster.  I'll have my steak medium rare thanks Seamy!

Facing The Challenge - The Donard Hat Trick

I'll start this post with a caveat, I haven't completed this challenge, in fact if I'm totally honest I haven't even attempted it really!  I have however come up with a tough new testpiece and developed a fair idea of how spectacularly hard it is so I thought I'd throw down the gauntlet to anyone who wants to take it on.

The Mournes skyline, Donard is the big pointy one

Slieve Donard, Northern Ireland's highest mountain stands at 853 metres tall and towers over the seaside town of Newcastle, County Down.  It forms the centrepiece of the iconic Mourne Mountains skyline which can be viewed from miles around and inspired Percy French's famous poetry.  In ancient times the summit was said to be the home of Saint Donard who provided the name for this spectacular lump of granite. 

In real terms 853m barely makes it a mountain really but the proximity to the coast and the relentless gradient of the main walking track make it an enticing challenge for hikers, charity walks, people in flip flops with a bottle of Lucozade and all sorts of others.  A clear view of the summit from the comfort of Newcastle's many cafes seems to have the effect of dragging the foolish and unprepared towards it in a frenzy of summit fever, keeping the Mourne Mountain Rescue Team busy and teaching some harsh truths about the mountains to the uninitiated.

Personally, I'm not uninitiated, I'd like to think I know the mountains well.  I've been up Donard many times in near 30 degree heat (honest), howling blizzards, daytime, nighttime, racing, training and so on.  In fact, it's got to the stage where I don't really consider running up and down Donard once to be much of a challenge and that's where the hat-trick idea originally came from.

My Mourne Wall efforts in the Summer set me looking for new challenges but the onset of Winter and a rare attack of sense have kept me away from the Mourne 500 (more on that to come).  I wanted something controllable and safe but also horrifically difficult whilst also being theoretically possible, easy!  A while back I read an account of someone doing ten ascents of Donard in a day and that set me thinking, what about ten timed ascents with a target to beat?  I quickly realised that my boredom threshold would prevent this becoming a reality but what about something shorter, quicker and slightly less ridiculous, what about three sprint ascents?

A few years ago I read with shock that people actually run up and down Donard in less than an hour. It was even more of a shock when I realised that I was also capable of being one of those people!  I regularly run it for training in just over the hour mark and so my triple ascent time target needed to be close enough to the hour to be very tough but not so close as to be unachievable.  I settled on 70 minutes for each circuit, a total of 3 1/2 hours, non stop, starting and finishing in Donard car park each time.  There are different routes available and even on the Donard race consensus is split between heading up the main walking track or dragging over bog and moorland up the steeper but half mile shorter Black Stairs route.  Personally I think the Black Stairs are quicker but for the sake of not falling off a cliff I decided to make the rules strictly main track only, up and down.  This makes one lap 5 miles with over 5500 feet of combined ascent and descent, possibly one of the toughest runnable 5 mile laps anywhere!

Rules decided, the only thing left was to slap on the Inov8's, eat a bar and get going...

Except it's madness!  70 minutes is a pretty respectable time for a main track lap when only doing one, surely it's not possible to maintain that pace over the three?  I decided the best way to find out was to do two laps first and see what effect it had.  So it was that I found myself jogging up the rooty initial track after work on a grey November afternoon.  I was keen to maintain a steady pace so I didn't really push myself, summiting in just under 46 mins and not really sprinting the way back down.  I was hoping for about 1:08 so was pretty annoyed with myself when my warm up lap was actually 1:12:40, way off the average target for the three laps!  No problem I thought, I'll push hard on the second lap and make the time up.  Wrong!  As casual as the first lap seemed, even keeping within my limits clearly took its toll and despite pushing hard my second lap lost me more time.  The increasing headwind which always funnels down the valley certainly didn't help the ascent and the impending darkness definitely slowed the descent, particularly in the forested end sections so the 1:16 second lap wasn't really a surprise.  Total two lap time, 2:28:15, over eight minutes off target, back to the drawing board!

For a while I pondered increasing the average time allowed to 1:15 but what's the point of moving the boundaries just because I'm not good enough to complete the challenge?  Better to keep trying until I can do it.  A different approach, less headwind and not doing it on a work day could maybe see me get closer to the target.  Two out of three isn't bad and so on a blustery Saturday morning I left the car park at a decidedly brisker pace.  The headwind was still a definite factor but despite not going too hard I still summitted in sub 43 and hit the bottom in 1:06:30, three and a half minutes banked and I could sniff a possibility!  The second lap was tough, the wind was really sapping and there is only so much motivation you can glean from the shocked expressions of the people you're passing for the second time on the way up.  I got to the top at 1:54:20, it was going to be close.  The initial descent is steep and littered with boulders, not the greatest combination for seized knees, creaking hips and tired quads so I maintained the best style I could and tried not to fall and smash myself.  Finally the wind became a friend as I stretched out my paces along the beautifully constructed mid section, skipping over rocks and driving as hard as I could over the short sprinty rises.  I kept the pressure up all the way to the bottom, only the early onset of cramp slowing me on the final car park sprint.  And the result was... 1:19:26!  On target for two laps, very pleased and yet even more daunted by the prospect of having just 1:10:34 to do the last lap with legs like rocks. 

Can I do it?  I don't know.  I didn't eat or drink on those two laps and obviously refuelling will be essential to complete the three but with a constantly running clock it will have to be done on the go either whilst panting hard going up or concentrating hard going down, not easy.  I feel close enough, and yet also far away enough to stay inspired by this one, pretty soon I'll go for the three laps and see what happens.

And that's where it stands.  Except I'd like to see this challenge achieved, not just by me, by anyone.  I've recently mentioned it to the elite of Mournes mountain runners and received a luke warm response so I'm throwing it open to all.  Ironmen, Mountain Marathoners, Endurance Cyclists, Mountain Bikers, if you are someone who thinks they're fit or know someone who thinks they're fit then get them to drop me a line and have an official attempt.  I'll be there at the finish to cheer you home and buy you a pint.  There must be someone out there who'll have a good dig at this... 

 

Contact ian@rockandrideoutdoors.com if you think you're up to the challenge and I'll give you all the info.