Trans-alpine challenge by doc_s

How many mountains can you run without bending your knee? More than you'd think but sadly not enough. Unfortunately, this is not a bad joke, but it did spell the end of my trans-alps bid for this year- the medics pulled me on day 6 after the knee injury I'd been battling since day 2 worsened. I made it 205km, across 3 countries and more mountains than I care to remember, with about 9000m of ascent and descent.

I shall put a quick summary of what each day included here:

Day 1: 36.30km, 1223 m ascent, 1034m descent

Day 2: 33.2km, 1810m ascent, 1907m descent (it was here my knee injury became apparent)

Day 3: 46.9km, 2252m ascent, 2140m descent

Day 4: 43.9km, 1967m ascent, 1377m descent

Day 5: 29.4km, 1503m ascent, 2098m descent (this day was actually about 5km longer with a bit more climbing and descending due to a recent landslide)

Day 6: 39.7km, 1512m ascent, 1193m descent (it was about 15km into this day that the doctors stopped me and my race was over)

Day 7: 42.2km, 1963m ascent, 1990m descent

Day 8: 33.4km, 1269m ascent, 1123m descent

I won't write an in-depth report of every day, mainly because they have now blurred into one massive mountain in my memory, but suffice to say this was the most exhilarating, exhausting, painful, wonderful, exciting, hilarious and heart-breaking experience of my life. I will be back to complete this race in the future as the alps and I now have unfinished business. This is an extraodinary race, the organisation is second to none, the scenery is breathtaking, the cameraderie amongst the competitors is unrivalled, and the smells and sounds of 500 runners all sharing a gym hall for sleeping space is unforgettable (and not in a good way, at all!), although this was made up for by the hilarity caused by European men's penchant for tiny, tight pants!

I was pretty nervous on the start line on day 1, and couldn't even begin to comprehend how we were going to run across 3 countries but after the start gun went, I just had to get my head down and get on with it. There was nothing too technical in day 1 but I was quite concerned about our pace- were we going too fast and at risk of blowing up before the 8 days were up, or were we being too lazy and just trotting along without enough effort. I suspect in any multi-stage race this is always going to be a worry but after the first day we seemed to settle into a decent rhythm. The end of day 1 had a punishing 7km on the road, and althoughI'm more used to road than hill, even I found this quite a painful experience.

Day 2 was a much more 'typical' trans-alps day, starting with a steep climb to 1419m, followed by a sharp descent to 719m then climbing back to 1332m, and a further summit at 1736m and a final steep downhill to 755km. By this time I was starting to realise some of my assumptions were wrong. I always find it difficult not to be intimidated by other competitors at the start line, and let me tell you the European women are no exception to this- many of them have legs like tree trunks and make Fatima Whitbred look puny. However, this does not necessarily make you fast on hills, and whilst I was scared one of them might eat me for breakfast, I was quickly discovering that I could leave them for dead on a descent. This, my friends, I thought, could turn out to be a fun week. On the final descent on day 2 I started to feel that familiar rubbing sensation in my knee, but can honestly saw I was not overly concerned. At least until we crossed the finish line and within the hour my knee appeared to have seized completely.

I was extremely worried, and despite ice and NSAIDs, thought my race was over before it had even begun. I seemed unable to bend my knee, and although I'm no expert, this is a fairly vital function for getting off a hill. I phoned home for advice, and while I considered my options, all I could think about was the Lodging House Mission, the staff and other volunteers, the clients who visit every day, my colleagues, family and friends who had helped and supported me, and donated so much of their time and money to this cause. Right, I vowed, while there is still breath left in my body and any movement remaining in my knee, I am going to run on. And I did, for probably quite a lot longer than was sensible or necessary.

Day 3 was hell on earth, I discovered that although swelling around my kneecap made it difficult to bend my knee, I could run on the flat and uphill relatively pain-free if I kept my knee straight and swung my leg out and round from the hip. This works pretty well on flat roads, not so well on snowy mountain ridges, as my dragging leg caught on rocks or snow, again, and again, causing me to fall repeatedly. This was bad enough but descending was terrible, there is no way to get off a hill without bending your leg, trust me, I tried for 4 days. Deciding it hurt just as much going slowly as quickly, the strategy was to just grit my teeth and get down as fast as possible. This worked quite well for the first few days, although I did have a tendency to grunt, groan, and turn the air blue if i had a bad landing. Also quit bizarrely, I found I started to complain in a European accent, there were some decidedly Italian sounding oophs as I came down, I can't even descibe it to you, I have no idea what it was all about but i couldn't stop myself. It's amazing how quickly you can limp if you really set your mind to it, on day 3 we managed to come in 11th place, leaving us 10th overall in the mixed category. Despite the pain and tears, this really lifted my spirits as I thought we were much slower than this and I decided that it really was possible to continue. Day 3 and 4 are by far the longest days, and I felt that if I could complete those I really could finish the race.

Day 4 was a much better day for me, my knee seemed no better but also no worse. I could see the swelling was increasing but it wasn't any more painful and I felt much more energised. I ate a lot more as I bonked towards the end of the previous day, and this, combined with my renewed hopes of being able to finish, kept me going through the full day. I felt I was getting better at compensating for my knee and we finished 9th on day 4.

Day 5 had a lot of descent and I knew fairly quickly I was in trouble. It wasn't uncommon for me to have a bit of a crisis of confidence in the morning and it seemed to take a couple of hours for the knee pain to settle to a dull roar, during which time I'd be having an inner battle about whether I could continue. Eventually the painkillers seemed to kick in, and my strategy was to take another one 5 minutes before main decsents but on day 5 things really started to fall apart. It was the first day I felt pain continuously and as soon as we reached the first hill i was in tears. Crying and running at altitude is a fairly tricky skill, and not easily maintained! The frequent falling was starting to affect my nerves, as well as Brendan's, and I'm sure he was probably demented by my constant moans, groans, and not so quiet sobbing- this was not going according to plan. After we got over the finish line I just slumped into a deckchair in tears, and a first-aider got me an ice pack and gave me a good cuddle to comfort me a bit. I had to think hard about what to do- again I phoned home and asked others for their advice. Brendan made it clear he thought it was time for me to stop, and my knee was now swollen to about twice the size of the other one. I can see in hindsight withdrawing would have been sensible, but I am not a quitter, and I couldn't help but feel I'd be letting everyone down. So I decided to go on.

Day 6 was over pretty quickly for me, it started with a half-marathon on the road and it quickly became apparent that I could no longer run. I tried different techniques but my leg still hurt badly and I knew I couldn't finish. I decided to stop and waited by the roadside snivelling onto Brendan, for the arrival of the first-aiders. They told me I needed to walk to the first checkpoint but also helpfully suggested that they had seen me every day 'you are very brave, yes, and very tough. F*** the time, go slow and maybe you can do it'. This was the red rag to the proverbial bull and I leapt at this slim chance of being able to finish. Yes, I thought to myself, maybe I can limp or hop the next 3 days over the alps to the finish line, perhaps it can be done. Brendan was furious and I wobbled on for another few miles until I reached a crew member. Brendan had run on and asked the guy to get a medic to have a look at my knee, and that was it, game over. I knew they wouldn't let me continue, i knew I was being stupid and stubborn and I was right. I can tell you that getting the 3 blisters drained from underneath my toenails, was less painful than the decision to stop, but I knew there was no more I could do. A minibus full of other walking wounded came and picked me up and that was it, trans-alps over. I have no idea what the total drop-out rate was, but of the 76 mixed teams that started, only 46 finished and I am proud that despite injury we held 10th position at the end of day 5. I hope to return in the future, better, faster, stronger, and with two fully-functioning knees!

I formed a very attractive cheer-leading gang with some other wounded soldiers and we cheered the rest of the runners on for the next couple of days. Watching others finish was difficult, but I felt proud for them and any dissappointment I felt was washed away when I saw their faces as they crossed the line. And so the Simpson ministry of funny runs is now officially closed, i hope normal service shall be resumed shortly, although I suspect I have a long road of physio ahead to get me fixed again. I want to say a big thank you to everyone who helped and supported me through this, esp the sandyford staff for all their hard work with the fundraising, everyone at the LHM for keeping me going even when I wanted to give up, to tobias for telling me I was the fastest limper he'd ever seen, to the medics for their kindness and cuddles, to the other runners for sharing my laughter and my tears, to the crazy spaniard who always found time to stop and blow me a kiss, to Brendan for towing me uphill and supporting me when I crashed back down, to Matt for putting up with me and to all of you, for the advice, for listening and for sharing your stories too. I hope my next trans-alps dream will have a happier ending but I can thoroughly recommend this rcae, in my opinion there isn't one bettter.

Well, I suspect this shall be one of my last blogs until I reach the alps and I must say, it's a very strange feeling. I've had a fantastic week, and aside from having very little time left to get things done, I'm feeling very optomistic about the next few weeks.

I had a fantastic hill run on Tuesday and it's really my last big run before the trans-alps. I chose Ben Narnian and Ben Ime, and it was lovely, very quiet and peaceful and not as hard as my slog at the weekend and I hardly saw another soul for the whole outing.

Last night was my charity night to raise funds for the LHM. It was a great night, we had a quiz, bingo and a raffle, and a friend did a bit of DJing after. These things are always a bit of a hit or a miss, and thankfully it really came together well. My biggest fear was that people wouldn't turn up but the pub was full and I was blown away by peoples' support and generosity, in particular, the other staff from the Sandyford have been amazing, what a fantastic team. I shall be eternally grateful to them as I couldn't have done it without them. I also managed to finally sort out some decent raffle prizes- very stressful trying to persuade people to give you stuff but at the end of the day, I think I managed to pull together a fairly decent bag of prizes. We raised about £500 bringing my current total to about £2200, which I am delighted with. Now comes the easy bit.... I just need to actually run the 200 miles over the alps, a minor point really. I'm so excited about my Kenyan holiday first that it'sdoing an excellent job of taking my mind of the pre-race nerves, next time you hear from me, I'll no doubt be in a right old state!   

When I think about it, this is really a once in a lifetime opportunity, the stuff of my wildest dreams. As I was being interviewed the other night the girl asked me if I'd always been into fitness, if I'd always been a runner. It has really set me thinking over the past few days about what running has done for me and how I got here. When I tell people about the trans-alps, or they find out I am 'into running' they often ask why. I simply cannot put it into words. For most of my life I was a lazy wee toe-rag, not in the slightest interested in fitness or sport. A few years ago I found myself miserable, stressed out, smoking, drinking too much, eating junk and although I wasn't hugely fat I was carrying some extra weight and was generally fed up with myself. I did jog occasionally but my only real forray into running had ended with the Glasgow half-marathon in 2004 (my only race until summer 2008) when I ran a 1 hour 55 but promptly passed out as I got over the finish line, and until a couple of years ago, had never considered racing again. A severe attack of the guilties did force me out to pound the pavements occasionally, but it was more like abject torture that had to be endured, than an enjoyable hobby.

So what changed? Who knows? Was it joining a running club? Unearthing and dusting off that old competitive streak as I ventured into racing for the first time? Was it finding out you don't need to be a top athlete to take part in races and enjoy them? Was it finding out there are a hundred different ways to train and just as many terrains to run on? Was it meeting others with a similar passion? Was it the steady improvement in times and new records set that kept me coming back for more? Was it knowing that this was somehow 'my thing' and somehow something no-one else could take from me? Was it the inner peace and quietness I can find when running, leaving all the day's stresses behind? Or is it just because I can? Just to feel the power of my legs striding beneath me, the wind on my face and the pure unadulterated joy and freedom that running can bring? Yes, it's all of the above, and more, and as I ran across some of the mountain tops earlier in the week, I realised it's not the winning, it really is the taking part that counts.

Cheers fellow bloggers, hope to catch up soon x

Aaargh, only a few days until I'm on a plane and out of here. I fly to Nairobi in 5 days and I am totally under-prepared. Rather than spend a two week taper kicking my heels round Glasgow, I'm joining a certain young man in Kenya for a couple of weeks. We're going to climb Mount Kenya and spend a few days on safari, etc to help me chill and and distract me from the impending doom of race day.

Actually, I'm feeling very positive about it all at the moment and surprisingly calm. I had a good few days training and despite needing about 3 extra days to get my stuff organised, i finally feel it's all coming together.

Friday, i did half an hour on the turbo-trainer before work and popped into the gym after work for another couple of rounds of the 4.40 challenge, still not getting it.

Saturday was a beautiful day and I headed up to some mountains called the arrochar alps, within easy reach of Glasgow. I was on my own so i was happy it was a clear day as it's not a route I would attempt in poor visibility. I spent several hours yomping up and down hills although an early navigational error cost me dearly as it meant I had to ascend the steep side of Ben Vorlich, knackering my legs and blistering my heels right at the start (damn those pesky inov8s). The advantage of being on my own was that I could just go at my own pace and even stopped to take some pics and eat a sandwich at one point.

The disadvantages were having to rely on my map-reading skills and knowing that if i fell it could be some time before I was found. In fact, at one of my cheerier moments my thinking went along the lines of 'oh dear, when i fall off here I hope I don't knock myself out or shatter my skull because then i can't phone for help. Hmm, there's probably no signal anyway. Ah well, i'm probably miles off where I think I am and search and rescue would never find me. Oh look, there's some sheep droppings, that's good, at least another living creature has been here before. Oh dear, there's a sheep's skull.' And so on, as you can tell i'm prone to a bit of melodrama! Thankfully my only injury was a bruised palm from toppling of some slippy rocks into a river, my river crossings have never been great and by this point my legs no longer felt like my own. I wobbled halfway across and sploosh, in I went. I'm glad no-one was around as my pride would have been severely dented. It was a long and tough day, but I thoroughly enjoyed most of it, although staggering across a massive bull copulating with his favourite female on the last section of path before the carpark did nothing for my mood. As a city girl at heart I had no idea what to do, after the intial instinct to panic and run screaming in the other direction had subsided, I decided to creep into the undergrowth and take a detour. Despite the best efforts of the rest of the cows to reveal me by their loud mooing (I have decided cows can be quite nasty) I escaped unscathed, thank goodness because I was reduced to a slow stagger by that point and would have been trampled if I'd been relying on my legs to speed me away.

Sunday was a painful day and i decided to utilise a bit of cross-training so hopped on the bike and cycled with a friend to the kilpatricks and ran for about an hour on the hills. After the first 15 minutes i decided my legs were ok, and they were, until I had to descend. Saturday's efforts had completely trashed my quads and it was a very slow and painful descent back to the bike. After I got back I popped round to see my nephew (he's 8 weeks old) and some of my sister-in-law's homemade lasagne, and a kiss and a cuddle from him made me feel miles better.

He doesn't always look so terrified- the pre-flash on my camera always startles him so I have a series of pics with him staring with big crazy eyes!

Today was an enforced rest day for several reasons: I had no time to train, I had a massage booked with Phil the sadist (defo some bad stuff going on with my R leg- nasty posterior tibial and plantar fascia action tonight) and i could barely walk, it was a backwards shuffle downstairs again this morning.

My trans-alps interview was apparently on Radio Clyde news all saturday morning, and I completely missed it because I was out running. I did an interview on Sunny Govan radio tonight and was on the show for about 45 minutes. I was pretty nervous but the girls and guy at the station were really lovely and helped put me at ease, in fact by the end I was quite enjoying myself. Hopefully some of it will bring some publicity or funds for the LHM in, or get some people along to the fundraiser on wednesday night.

I need a PA or secretary or just general dogsbody to get me organised before I leave, I'm only back for 1 day between kenya and trans-alps but i like it all a bit high pressure, keeps me on my toes. Ok, enough waffle from me, this seems like an inordinately long blog but i was too knackered to update over the weekend.

Hope you are all keeping fit. Cheers x

Just a quick update on the week so far, I feel there's finally light at the end of the tunnel, very little training to do then it's time to taper.... yipee. I'm feeling in much better shape this week, back to my normal self and not so likely to burst into tears or keel over with exhaustion.

Monday was a recovery run at club, the boys set off at too quick a pace for me so i bailed at 6 miles, i would have run further on my own but i just couldn't keep up anymore. There was also an article in the Evening Times, I think I'm starting enjoy all this fame and glory, LOL! The guys at club thought it was hilarious- it says I have previously done 'small runs', the way it's worded you'd think I was a complete novice who'd just shelled out on my first pair of trainers.

Tuesday saw me do my interview with Radio Clyde, thanks Muffs for your message, I read it just before I arrived and it turned me into even more of a jibbering wreck than I had been. I'm not actually sure what i said, I think it was ok but in my nerves completely forgot to ask when they are going to air it and to mention the online donation page- doh! The lady did say it would be before my charity night and they were hoping to run with it as a bit of a story, getting an update from me at different stages of the race, which is very encouraging as any publicity may help to bring in some funds. After that I was in the mission for a few hours, which helped cheer me up. I've been quite distracted over the past few weeks, trying to print off letters and phone/email people for fundraising stuff while I'm there so it was great to just have a few hours to talk to the clients and help out during lunch service. I never feel that I do anything spectacularly helpful when I'm there and giving up a morning per week hardly seems enough, so i hope the fundraising for the race is a success. The advantage of doing it for a small charity that I know well is you can see where the money goes and know it is making a difference, even if it's not a kings ransom. Tuesday evening saw me back on the Kilpatrick hills for an hour and a half, happily I managed not to get lost and felt I ran at a decent pace.

Last night was back to running club and I had been up late baking again to sell some cakes to my running compadres to raise some extra pennies. This week was a victoria sponge, rocky road, chocolate brownies, apple, cinnamon and raisin muffins and coconut slice. The session was supposed to be a 20 minute out and back, not really appropriate at this stage of the game so a few of us headed out for 13 miles. i was promised 7 and a 1/2 minute miles, surprise, surprise, that was complete nonsense, and despite my loud protestations we zipped round most of it , not a kick in the shirt of my race pace. As a result I ended up with bad bout of runner's tum, necessitating a quick detour and a slower finish. So just over 12 miles in 1 hr 28- not really my idea of a long SLOW run!

I'm on-call tonight so no running for me but i did an hour on the turbo trainer when I got home, brilliant as it gave me an excuse to watch celebrity masterchef, if there is one thing I love more than running/fitness, it's food! Some of the stuff looked amazing. I'm off to bed soon as I may get called out during the night so i need to grab some shut-eye, although I never sleep well on-call, constantly dreaming of ringing phones, drives me mad.I got a new gel cover for my road bike saddle this week and I've got some big hills planned for over the weekend so I need a good rest.

Hope you're all having a good week x