Oxygen Debt - The World Mountain Running Championships

August 1992 - 14,000 feet above sea level

I bent double over my ice axe and glanced upwards.  Mont Blanc's tin box Vallot Hut didn't appear to be any closer than at my last agonised look, hardly surprising given that in the ten minutes since then I'd barely managed twenty steps.  The afternoon sun warmed my neck as I gulped in air, desperate for that reassuring feeling of deep breath hitting the bottom of my lungs.  The headaches and nausea were a portent of the horrendous night I had in store and the impending storm wasn't the main reason that there would be no summit attempt that year.  Welcome to 14,000ft Mr Bailey, now get back to the valley where you belong...

August 2014 - 14,000 feet above sea level

Where the hell is the A-Frame?  We're above the treeline and moving well but there's been no sign of the structure which definitively marks the transition to the open mountain section, the section I'd been repeatedly warned about in the last 48 hours, the one that reduces World Class athletes to arthritic wrecks.  My world has diminished to just the few metres directly in front of me.  Scotland's Claire Gordon is pushing a solid pace, still running towards a superb category win for her.  I'm more than happy to tuck in and keep pace, I was told we wouldn't still be running at this point, I was told wrong...

The Pikes Peak ascent and marathon is world famous amongst endurance athletes and mountain runners.  The ascent section climbs a massive 7,815 feet over 13.32 miles of constant uphill over trail and open scree slopes.  This year it had been selected to host the World Long Distance Mountain Running Champs adding even more prestige to one of the most coveted titles in running.

Pikes Peak in the background (from halfway down it)

Personally I'd spent the whole of last Winter telling anyone prepared to listen that I was done with competetive running and was returning to mountain bikes.  Damaged thumb ligaments in November and a call to arms from the Newcastle AC Cross Country squad had realigned my ambitions for 2014.  The possibility of representing NI at Pikes Peak and getting a trip to Colorado cemented them, I was destined to train harder and race better than ever before.  A mantlepiece full of trophies is testament to the success of the racing but the pure enjoyment and fitness gains from my longer runs in the Alps, Lake Garda and the Mournes also showed me that I could make the transition to longer distance racing from my usual five mile sprints over the peaks.  Final training efforts went brilliantly and it was with growing excitement that I realised that I'd be heading to the States not just injury free but also in superb form.

The 25 hour journey passed mostly without incident through Dublin to Colorado Springs via Chicago despite a desperate drive from the airport accidentally taking in the long stay car park and some tunnel visioned, sleep deprived Interstate terror.  On the way I'd met my NI team mates Justin Maxwell and Chris Stirling and waiting at the accommodation was Peter Bell.  The team was complete and full of excitement for the challenge ahead.  Despite the exhaustion of the journey the time difference played its tricks and I lay awake from 3am, struggling to relax but consoling myself that it'd make getting prepared at 4am on race day an easy prospect.

Where we stayed was none too shabby!

Having arrived a day earlier Peter had taken the brave move of walking the full Ascent course the day we arrived and so was full of useful information, the summation of which was that it was going to be seriously hard and that the lack of oxygen is a very real factor.  Having been out of breath on the stroll to the castle (yes castle!) for our breakfast I wasn't about to doubt how strenuous running would be at twice that altitude, however, we needed to experience it for ourselves.  We headed to Manitou Springs, parked up and ran a steady hour up the 'W's' to 'No Name Creek', about a quarter of the full ascent distance.  I have to admit that I was delighted how sprightly my legs felt, lacking the expected hangover from being cooped up on American Airlines flights for so long (basically it was like a long-haul Ryan Air!).  However, the thin air even below 8,000ft was alarming.  Any short increased effort put me in the red for way longer than it should've and I felt that I was only operating at about 60% of my lung capacity.  As such, I had mixed emotions as we enjoyed a brilliant jog down the switchbacks we'd just climbed.

Thursday evening we were joined by Dr William Elliott, renowned physiologist and seven times Pikes Peak veteran.  I'd been really looking forward to meeting him and gleaning as much information as possible about the challenge ahead.  I've never been faced with any event that has so many inherent uncertainties before and so soaked up his words of caution and inspiration intently.  After giving us a really detailed breakdown of the course and the efforts required, particularly for us sea level dwelling 'flatlanders' as we're known in mountainous Colorado he asked us for our predicted finish times.  I was caught in two minds, reveal my prior estimate (prior to the continuous warnings to go VERY easy for the first 7-8 miles since we'd arrived) or play safe and avoid risking looking like an idiot.  Being someone who is familiar with being driven by a risk of failure and not being overly averse to looking an idiot I stuck to my guns and gave a firm and confident sounding 'sub 3 hours'.  The reality in my head was that I had no clue whether I'd be much nearer the men's average time of 4:20.

Team NI psyched and ready to race

Race day started at 3:30am and for the first time ever I was praising the effects of jet lag as I took a night time warm up jog outside.  I felt awake, focused and really excited, any trepidation was hidden at the back of my conscience and I was delighted to finally be getting on with the thing that had been my focus for so long.  The World Mountain Running Association laid on transport to the start and it was quite amusing to see a queue of identical people carriers pulling up to the accommodation, the sort of thing you normally associate with FBI raids in crap detective films.  Arriving in Manitou Springs there was already a palpable buzz in the air, the sun was starting to appear in a beautifully clear sky and nearly 2,000 runners were trying to go through their warm up routines in the confines of the main street.  Team NI were all looking relaxed, posing for some souvenir pictures and laughing at the athletes who felt the need to add intense sprints to their warm up for a 13 mile uphill race, each to their own I guess.  I'd decided the day before to heed all the advice and set off extremely easy so as the countdown finished and the gun sounded I relaxed into the easiest race pace I've ever used and allowed a couple of hundred people to run past.  I'll continue from here with my stream of consciousness as it does allow you all to appreciate the inane thought processes that take place during these events!

Mile 1, relax, steady, don't chase.  People are streaming past and I could easily keep up with them.  This is contrary to all my usual race tactics but I'll see many of these people again when they're dying higher up.  Ignore the cheering crowd, ignore the pride, focus on the pace, find a rhythm.

Miles 2-4, this is too slow.  I feel far too relaxed.  I'm practically jogging and not even breathing hard, I warn people passing me to take it steady but most ignore me.  Some are wheezing and breathing really hard, I laugh internally.  Get passed by someone with a Go-Pro strapped to their head, a f***ing Go-Pro!!  This isn't a serious runner.  Have to fight the urge to pass him, bury him, teach him to respect the race and the mountain but relax, back to the rhythm.  Pass No Name Creek, into unknown territory.  Start passing the victims already including a South African I've been chatting to a bit, I tell him to relax, he tells me he's already in survival mode.  He's in for a very long tough ordeal and I'm still not even breathing hard.  I think the advice may have been right!

Miles 5-7.5, finally off the leash.  The course has flattened and I'm kicking on.  Ding Dong battle with a Polish runner, he's faster on the flats, I pass when it steepens.  Lost in personal competition we pass a dozen others.  Drink, measure effort and get a real sense of enjoyment.  Push on towards the half way mark and 'Barr Camp'.  I know I want a gel just before the aid station but how will I know where it is?  I hear it hundreds of metres before I see it, this is the USA, enthusiastic crowd support is practically a National passtime.  I really appreciate the shouts, almost as much as the Gatorade but what the hell does 'yeeeehhhhh represent real good' actually mean?  Check my watch, bang on 3hr pace, satisfaction.

Miles 8-10, I've read the course notes, I know that mentally these are the toughest miles.  Over half way but not yet on the open mountain, like a no-man's land of extreme effort.  Steeper narrower trails, uneven steps, legs rapidly deteriorating but I'm still passing people, still pushing on.  Cramping, out of the blue, really didn't expect that.  Been chugging the Gatorade but must've sweated much more than I thought.  Stuff in a salt capsule, unbelievably disgusting, instant relief.  Push on, enjoy the pain.

Miles 10-13, the open mountain.  I've read and been told so much about this section.  'It's unrunnable', 'it'll destroy runners', 'people lying and puking everywhere'.  Like anything built up that much it's an anticlimax.  Contouring trails are 90% runnable, don't walk, I haven't come all this way to walk.  Stick to Claire, she's going well and we're still passing athletes.  The body feels OK but the head is all over the shop, overwhelming dizziness, vision looks like it's through a filter, fuzzy peripheries.  I fall on to boulders deliberately to avoid falling on them accidentally.  No summit, does this mountain have a summit?  Why the hell does this fella keep sprinting past and then stop in the middle of the track?  Dickhead!

Miles 13-13.32, 'go on, you can make sub 3' shout the wellwishers.  I know this already, my pacing has been perfect.  I will make sub 3.  Just a few more short switchbacks, the finish, kick out a sprint, I always kick out a sprint.  2:56:50.  Medal round my neck.  Medics ask 'are you OK?'  Yes I'm OK thanks, but the dude who kept sprinting past isn't, he's collapsed at the finish.  I've done it, a rush of emotion, surrounded by smiles, I think I enjoyed that!

The next half hour...
I'm a firm believer that you have to grab your finish line emotion and hold on to it hard.  Like a snapshot, how do I feel right at this very moment?  If you wait even five minutes til the heart rate is down and the head is clear then you can forever be left with the unanswerable question, 'was that my best'?

As I crossed the line I felt great.  Even sitting here long after, even despite the drunken fuzziness of altitude I can still recall a deep satisfaction.  I wandered through the other international runners, chatting away.  Some were already displaying that post-race malaise, could've, should've, if only.  Pretty soon my thoughts will go the same way but that finish line sense of pride, completion, discipline, effort, pain and realised ambition has been banked and I'm all the better for that.

Summit smiles, just after the finish

Justin arrived shortly after and Chris soon after that.  The cameraderie of Team NI felt very real as we captured the obligatory post race pics, smiling faces with an astounding background vista.  I barely know these lads but I'm extremely proud to be associated with them, shared experiences that will last a lifetime.

The next ten hours...
Amongst the best of my life!  So many highs, enhanced by the mass euphoria of a town overflowing with endorphins.  Free pizza and beer (thanks WMRA), massages (thanks Billy) and easy conversation with some genuine running legends, normal people with abnormal abilities.  On the hour long drive down from the summit we got chatting to 3rd place finisher Andy Wacker, a phenomenal athlete and really nice guy.  He insisted on driving us to the team USA post-race pool party where we relaxed and drank amazing local beers with many of our fellow Internationals.  The chat was engaging and fun, I love being surrounded by people who do, not just dream of doing.  Next challenges were discussed, I'd better think of one myself.  The party wound down before midnight, virtually everyone there would train the next day.

Top of the infamous 'Incline'

The next few days...
Everything looked a bit different.  The subconscious weight of nerves had disappeared and I enjoyed everything massively, even the mundane tasks of shopping and driving around.  We ran the day after the race, a steady 13 miler with the hellish 'Incline' ascent at the end, a 3/4 mile long, 2000ft elevation gain climb which hits 68 degrees at its steepest point.  The following two days I did some of the best biking of my life, brilliantly guided by Kip, an ex-pro racer who showed me just a few of the incredible local trails including a 41km descent back off Pikes Peak.  It's no easier on the way down!  We ate lots, ran more and soaked up as much of the stunning scenery and effortless hospitality of the American people as we could.  As ever my mixed emotions of missing Anna and the boys began to tip the balance towards feeling ready to leave and so a perfect trip ended at the perfect time.

About to descend Pikes Peak.  Worth the trip just for this 36km of singletrack!

Postscript, what did I learn?

1) I'm not a World Class athlete.
Sage Canaday (Team USA) won the race in 2:10:03, nearly 47 minutes faster than me!  He is World Champion, I never will be.  No real surprises there!  I finished 81st of 1,760 starters and 14th in my age category, not bad for a flatlander!

2) I'm nowhere near as far off as this result would suggest.
The defining factor in this race was, as predicted the altitude.  I have no doubt at all that had it started at sea level I'd have been way up the field.  My 'Triple Donard' final training session ascent times were a combined 2:10:05 and that comprised over 200m MORE ascent than Pikes Peak as well as being steeper and on looser ground.  You could argue that I had the recovery time on the downhills inbetween but anyone familiar with running hard down steep ground will tell you that the opposite is true.  Team USA dominated Pikes Peak and they all live and train at altitude.  Likewise, it's safe to assume that all the athletes from the Alpine countries have been brought up in or moved to the mountains to train and race.  One of the Germans lived on Pikes Peak for the 17 days preceding the event, the others used oxygen tents and masks.  Team England had to commit to being in the States at least two weeks before the race etc etc, moan, excuses!  Team NI would've loved to have been out there long enough to acclimatise but we're part-timers with jobs, young families and very limited funding.  I'm happy I did the very best I could in terms of prep but was defeated by the unique attributes of the race.  

3) Could I have pushed harder?
This question is one I've pondered hard.  I definitely heavily heeded the advice to go easy for the first half and felt more comfortable than ever before in a race.  As a result, despite being a sea level dweller I actually picked up ten places in the real high altitude section above 10,000ft.  I wasn't going any faster but others were dying on their feet after clearly going out too hard.  I could definitely have gone 15 minutes quicker to No Name Creek and probably another 10-15 quicker up to Barr Camp, the question is would that have killed me in the second half of the race?  In truth, unless I do it again I'll never know.  If I did get the chance to do the race again I'd definitely run it in a completely different manner, going off with the leaders before settling into my own rhythm further up the mountain when they kicked on.  I'd love to go back for the marathon at some point but pushing hard in the first five miles of twenty six would be even more ill advised so I'll probably have to accept that I'll never truly know the answer to this one.

4) Colorado was amazing.
I love the USA!  As a natural cynic I always thought the over the top friendliness of Americans would feel insincere, an act put on for the tourists.  I couldn't be further from the truth.  The overwhelming openness and enthusiasm of people I met, from professional runners to garage attendants was completely infectious.  I felt like a different person out there, talking to total strangers felt so natural.  I met some truly interesting, interested and engaging people from all ages and walks of life.  Couple this with beautiful accommodation, great weather, stunning mountains, top drawer running and biking, cheap and good food and it was obviously going to be a truly memorable trip.  I'd love to get back there again.

This sums up Colorado Springs.  The Jack Quinns Tuesday night 5k sometimes gets 2,000 participants!

Being a part of the World Champs and Pikes Peak race was an incredible opportunity and experience which I earned through hard training, solid domestic race results and being prepared to stump up a large proportion of the cash required myself!  Massive thanks to Anna who is always so supportive of my 'holiday' plans and who I'm sure had a hard time looking after the boys and also working all hours whilst I was away.  To my fellow NI team mates Justin, Chris and Peter, you were brilliant and easy company as well as being great athletes and training partners.  Big mention to Dr Billy Elliott for the top advice, endless support and friendliness and for being the best possible advocate for the race and Colorado in general.  The WMRA looked after us very well and the runners from all over the world made the event truly special along with the Colorado locals who were all so accommodating.  Thanks also to Feetures Socks, 2Pure, NIMRA and Newcastle AC who all contributed in different ways.

To any runners looking for a challenge it's pretty clear from the tone of this blog that I enjoyed the Pikes Peak ascent.  I'd really highly recommend you do all you can to meet the entry requirements and get signed up.  It truly is an experience that'll stay with you for a lifetime.

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!