Wednesday 4 April 2018

Race Report: Manx Mountain Marathon


I can’t believe that this is my first blog post since November of last year, so much has happened since then! The biggest of which is heading over to the UK for a university exchange semester which I’ll write about after the incredible 6 months is over. As for now though it’s time for another race report on my first race for this year, as well as a little bit on an island that I fell in love with. If you only want to read about the island, skip ahead!

The Race

I suppose I probably should begin with the circumstances surrounding why I wasn’t able to finish to finish the race. 1.5 weeks before the race I went out on a training run to practice going downhill, as the Manx Mountain Marathon (MMM) has some seriously steep downhill sections. The idea of that training run was to give me a bit of a confidence boost heading into the race, unfortunately I placed my foot wrong and for the second time since the Blackall 50 last year, I sprained my left ankle. As soon as I did it I knew it was bad, but not as bad as last time. As soon as I hobbled the 3km back to my room I did the RICE principle and hoped for the best. 3 days post-sprain I was able to ride a bike, 5 days post-sprain I was able to walk without limping, 7 days post-sprain I went on a reccie run with another Aussie, Troy (my first proper run since injury) on a part of the course (thanks Troy for taking me out there!) On the road sections my ankle was fine but as soon as we went onto the fells (hills) doubts started entering my mind as to whether I would be able to finish the race. We went over South Barrule which didn’t have a defined trail going up it and the trail going back down on the other side was quite rocky. Even with taking it really slow and easy, by the time we finished my ankle was in pain. Yeah, not good considering the race was in 3 days time.

(This was typical of the heather that we had to run across)

So, for the next 48 hours I tried to not walk on it more than necessary, then the afternoon prior to race morning I went for an hour-long hike to see a bit more of the island and to see how my ankle was doing. On the flat and on the climbs the ankle was fine, but on the downhills it hurt a bit. It was better than a couple days earlier but not as good as I hoped. After I got back I strapped up my ankle as tight as possible, got my gear ready (including poles to help with stability on descents), went to bed early and wished that when I woke up at the stupidly early time of 5:30 everything would be all good and I’d have a great race.

Before I dive into what happened during my race I want to describe the course and what fell running is compared to trail running back home. The similarities between the two is that they’re both off-road running and go up and down hills. However, during trail running events you have to follow a specific course which are often marked with flags and arrows etc. but with this fell race there wasn’t a specific course per se, just 12 hills that you needed to go to (check out the link here if you want to see the course and if you want extra context to the hill names)


The course was about 50km in length and featured around 2500 m in climbing

You had to go to each hill in a specific order but how you went up and down and between them was up to each individual runner. Sometimes there was a trail, other times there was just open heather but 98% of the course isn’t marked, so either you’re a local who’s reccied the course and knows exactly where you’re going, you’re a runner who’s following someone else and hopes they know where they’re going, or you’re navigating using a map and compass. 
When you get to the top of each major hill you have to punch a hole in this so the race organisers know you didn't cut the course
Apart from going over South Barrule, hiking to the top of Beinn Y Phott when it was a really clear day and being able to almost see the entire course, driving along the road following the southern part of the course and discussing the race route with Jan who’s done the race many times previously, I didn’t really have a clue as to where I was going. Apart from the Alpine Challenge (which had pretty much all the critical turning points marked anyway) all the races I’ve done previously required no navigation at all. You just follow the flags. Luckily, I knew how to use a map and compass, but with close to 100 runners starting my main plan was to follow the person in front of me and hoped they knew where they were going.

Anyways, race morning rolled around and we went to the start line at Ramsey on the North East part of the island and it was cold! The weather forecast said it felt like 0 Celsius with the wind chill, and this was at sea level, it would be colder once we got up on the hills. I had to make a choice on what to wear as I hadn’t ever raced in temperatures this cold before. Do I rug up as warm as possible or wear less banking on the fact that during the race I would warm up? In the end I kind of compromised, I decided on shorts and a merino baselayer top with my waterproof jacket, gloves and a buff. We also had to carry waterproof pants so I figured if I got really cold I could stop and put those on if necessary.

One of the key foundations of fell running I think after reading a book called, “Feet in the Clouds” and talking to a few fell runners is its sense community/grass roots and disregard for pomp and I reckon the start really showed this. There was no big inflatable arch that everyone ran through, no starters gun or even a megaphone but instead just a person wearing a high-vis vest counting down from 3 and blowing a whistle, and we were off! The first 1.5km were on road and I knew that the small road sections were going to be the only places I could push hard without fear of going over on my ankle, so my first km was fast and I was even able to keep up with the leaders! As soon as we went got onto the trails it was time to go up and up and up. Unfortunately, while the first part of the climb was on a well-defined path in the cover of trees, it was super rocky so pretty much from the word go I had to slow to a crawl. The good news is that my ankle wasn’t hurting yet. Yay! Shortly after the rocky section and about 3km’s in we were well and truly above the tree line and in full exposure of the elements. There was still a well-defined single track to follow up the first hill but it was stupidly wet and muddy, and my Akashas seriously struggled to get any grip. However, because it was less rocky I was able to go a little faster and even managed to over-take a couple people by the time I reached the top of North Barrule! The conditions once I reached the top though, were brutal. Cloud blanketed everything making it impossible to see more than 30 metres ahead of you and the wind was so strong that it was threatening to blow the poles I was using off the mountain top. I think the weather forecast said that it was blowing about 50km/h or close to it. Anyways, it was nuts and I certainly hadn’t experienced anything like it. The only good news was that it was on our backs, which according to local runners doesn’t happen very often, usually the wind blows as a headwind. Once we reached the top it was then time to follow a ridgeline and descend for the next 5km until we reached a road before the next climb. During this section I fell over twice as my shoes didn’t have enough grip on the muddy trail we were following. Each time I fell my confidence took a bit of a hit, making me go a bit slower. And while I didn’t fall over because of my ankle in this instance, it seemed to make it flair up and from this point onwards my ankle started to hurt, however it wasn’t bad and I was able to ignore it.
The face you make when you're concentrating on not falling over
Once we reached the road it was time to climb up the highest mountain on the island, Snaefell and the cloud was really, really bad. I could barely see the two hands in front of my face when I reached the summit. Once I dropped back down the other side and through the cloud I saw something really cool; runners everywhere. There was one main path (which I took) to go down but there is no obligation to take it and I saw runners all over the place taking what they thought was the quickest way down. I’ve never seen that before, in a race in Australia this would be impossible due to the large vegetation lining the hill side and there would be one trail that everyone would have to follow as its part of the course. On the side of this hill there was only low-lying heather blocking a runner’s path, which to a seasoned fell-runner is child’s play to go over. As for me? Well, not so much. At around km 15 we had to go down Carraghan, which was the steepest descent so far in the race and according to Strava had a gradient of 30%. And there was no trail to follow, the only way down was to go over heather. Slippery, ankle-breaking, heather. You see, the heather covered the entire ground so it covered up little holes and divots, and of course the plant itself is uneven so every time I put my foot down it landed on a different angle. Not good when you have an ankle that’s injured. I slowed right down to a slow walk and it wasn’t fun concentrating to the best of my abilities just so I didn’t sprain my ankle again. From the top to the bottom I lost count how many times my ankle slightly rolled over, and they all added up. The only thing that saved me from massively rolling my ankle were my poles and the strapping, but it still wasn’t enough. By the time I got to the flat my ankle was seriously hurting and I think it was at this point that I made up my mind that I wouldn’t get to the finish. However, I wasn’t ready to quit yet, I knew I had another big climb ahead of me and I was hoping for that my ankle might get a little better by the time I reached the top. But deep down I didn’t think it would as I knew the climb was going to be through heather and not on a trail. I was lucky that by this point another runner had joined me because I had no clue where the summit of Colden was. It’s hard to describe but in front of me was this giant hill with thigh height heather covering it and if I didn’t go the correct way up I would miss the flag with the dibber and go off course. Following the runner (who did know where he was going) I eventually made it to the top and for me it was the toughest climb yet. Partially because of my ankle, and partially because every step I took I had to lift my legs stupidly high so I could go over the heather. After reaching the top of Colden it was time to face the full force of the wind again and follow a path along a ridgeline to Slieau Ruy, where we, yet again, had to go back down the side of a hill when there wasn’t a trail to follow, just a couple flags that were put down so we could find our way to a gate. What was even better was that the route down went through spiky gorse as well as over heather. So here I was in shorts, timidly making my down so I didn’t sprain my ankle and also getting cut up at the same time. Am I complaining and does this make me sound like a pampered princess, rather than a toughened outdoorsmen? Yes. It was not fun. I only wish I could’ve run down the hill like all the people that passed me. Instead, I took every step like there was a landmine underneath me, slow and cautious and it frustrated the absolute akjgadjbnsfb. Grrrr! Even writing about 3 days later I can’t put into words how shit it was. I’m a runner goddamn it! I don’t want to walk down a hill. I know when doing an ultra you hit times when your mind and body gives up and you’re meant to push through it but on this occasion, I gave up. I wasn’t having fun, I wasn’t able to enjoy the stunning views over the rolling hills, my ankle hurt, I was scratched up from the gorse. And I was only half-way. I. Was. Done. However, I think I could’ve maybe, potentially pushed through that as I knew that the most scenic part of the course when we run by cliffs on the oceanside was coming up, but with a trip to the Lakes District 4 days after the race I didn’t want to risk doing any more damage to my ankle. So, at the Greeba marshal-point at the 25th km, 3 hours 35 mins later, I officially dropped out.

At this point in time it was only 11.30am, so I went from being runner to supporter and went around the rest of the course with Gordy, who was crewing for his wife. It was amazing being able to see everyone doing their best and it was great being able to cheer people on from the sidelines!
As this was my first fell race I definitely learned a few things. 
  1. Poles don’t help. While they did allow me to go downhill without spraining my ankle, the hills are too short (longest climb was 5km) to be of any major help. And they get in the way when trying to a grab a small plastic hole punch at the top of the hill.
  2. If it’s cold at the start it’s even colder when you’re 600 metres in the air exposed to the elements. Next time I won’t wear shorts.
  3. And on the topic of being cold, it turns out it’s really hard to drink 500mL an hour so I could consume 250 calories an hour of sports drink. Next time I’ll make it so it’s more concentrated.
  4. DON’T DO A TRAINING RUN WHERE THE RISK OF INJURY IS HIGH WITHIN 2 WEEKS PRIOR TO A MAJOR RACE!

 As with all races there are many thank-you’s that need to be said. Thank-you to the race organisers for putting on a superb race, the marshals who stood out in the brutal conditions manning the checkpoints and the other volunteers, without you these races wouldn’t happen, thanks Gordy for offering up a spare seat in your car so I could follow you around and be a supporter and the biggest thank-you of all to Jan and Chris for allowing me to stay with you while I was on the Island!

The Isle of Man and why you need to go

The people.
They’re some of the nicest and most hospitable going around! A few weeks before the race I put a Facebook post in the Manx Fell Runners group (if you’re from Australia you call yourself Australian, if you’re from the Isle of Man you call yourself Manx) asking if anyone had a spare bed or couch I could sleep on for the race and Chris and Jan offered to put me up for 5 days, which was amazing! Jan had run the course 4 times prior to this year and gave me as much advice as I could’ve wanted to do the course to the best of my abilities, and they gave me some great ideas on what to see and do on the island, along with so much more. As before-mentioned I also went around the course with Gordy, who I hadn’t met before arriving into the checkpoint and along with offering me a spare seat he also offered me some food which, to a hungry runner, was the best thing in the world! It was also super easy to strike up a conversation with random strangers, which I did multiple times throughout my stay.
The outdoors
If you like the outdoors in any-way then the Isle of Man is the place for you. Hiking (or running) along stunning hills and jaw-dropping coastline? Mountain biking?  Road cycling? Driving really fast on mountain roads that have no speed limit (I mean the island does host the TT every year)  Scuba diving? Name me an activity that involves being outside and I can almost guarantee you it can be done on the Isle of Man.
Amazing views of the hills
And the ocean
History
The Isle of Man has bucket loads of it. From vintage steam trains along the coast, horse drawn trams along Douglas harbour, the oldest continuous parliament on the planet (and the first place to give women the vote), hundred-year-old electric trams going up the hill side, medieval castles and smuggling, the Isle of Man has a super interesting past that is begging to be explored.



Food and drink
The island has multiple breweries, a gin distillery, produces its own honey, milk and cream, along with high quality meats. So if you like high quality, locally produced, delicious food and drink the Isle of Man is for you!
The Trail Running Novice