I questioned my reasons, really I only had everything to lose. Why go back?
Several people voiced this and made me really commit to explaining my feelings. There were a couple of major reasons. The first was that I really did enjoy the whole experience, despite saying I'd concentrate on 5k runs at the finish truth be told the whole journey helped me define who I was and encouraged me in my running experiences. The second was that in the first edition we missed a section of the line running down the country as we were ferried around Wild Boar Fell due to bad weather so this was a chance to complete the line in full on foot.
There was also a third reason: This race was ‘my’ race, if someone else was going to win it then they’d have to be faster than me to do so. That felt right and fair enough, I think, although it was a bit of a shock to find that I really was that competitive.
My preparation this time was great, mostly. I identified a couple of marker races, the Haworth Hobble, King of the Hill 6 Hour Race, Deadsheep and the Three Peaks. They went well in general, and running more races was something of a driving force in my training this year. Things can and do go wrong in races and it's a good test of how prepared you are to finish. Dead last at Deadsheep with an incomplete lap gave me the kick I needed to get my planning tighter and my training more specific for Deadwater.
Training wise I did less vertical climb this year and more even paced track sessions on a Tuesday where I am comfortably the slowest and count my success in how many times I get lapped. There’s something that feels to me very similar between the end of an ultra run and the end of a set of 15 x 400 at ‘on your limit’ even pacing.
This year I threw everything in to the mix - Yoga and mental training were added to my usual mix of cycling videos from the Sufferfest. Since I began using the Sufferfest about 10 years ago it has moved to an App only experience including various aspects of training performance metrics. It’s amazing. Aimed at cyclists I find this increases my speed and stamina for running far in excess of adding additional running miles. Although I did add additional miles as well and included daily endurance hill reps up my favourite hill - The Ellers - twice every morning. It’s a 1.3 mile, 782 feet of climb hill I can climb in anything from 11:43 (all out) to 20 minutes plus (with a full pack) and is my go to workout for strength and all round fitness. I know where I am with this and Strava reliably informs me I’ve climbed it more than 400 times.
All was going great - markers hit, weight coming down, getting stronger, brilliant. Then 8 weeks out I pulled my back picking up a pair of socks. I had some time off work such was the pain and immobility and my osteopath reccomended no running for at least a couple of weeks. Walking if possible to keep it moving but stop when it hurts. It hurt a lot. I was devastated. I was just trying to get to the start line never mind win.
My back hurt so much that I could barely walk. This was not good. I've got to drive my family around the entire circumference of Iceland and return home in a fit state to run a 6 day stage race two weeks later. After every stop and 4-6 hour driving stint I'm stretched out and rolling my legs from side to side in agony. I decide to go for a walk to see if keeping it moving will help and Louis and I find an antler worthy of a Viking.
I decide to run an Icelandic fjord race as a test. I set off and get boxed in on a foot deep, single track trench while the leader opens a sizable gap. As the path opens up I jump out from the pack and spring forwards, might as well make this a proper pressure test. I can't see the leader anymore and as we round the fjord two locals tear past me up the hill towards a turn putting me in 4th place. I hang on, just, but one of them is clearly about to blow. Which he does. The other holds a gap just in sight in a straight line. I hold him at this while I gather my thoughts. As we hit the road I can count the markers between us. There's two miles left to run. I'm reeling him in one marker at a time. This feels amazing. And hard. Mostly hard in fact. I hold my ground for a second as I approach to overtake then give a cheery 'Hi hi' as I breeze past. I know they say looking back is a sign of weakness but I don't subscribe to this view. Not when you look back and have already opened a hundred metre gap. I cruise in to the finish in second place and then wait for Sally to finish her race, videoing her return to the harbour from where we had set off for the start line across the fjord via two boat trips. My back held up, I finished stronger than I started and I loved every second of it.
https://www.facebook.com/john.parkin3/videos/10155476374847595/
On our return I go out supporting a couple of people on mountain rounds. On each support I have to pull up short and miss out hills, it’s quite simple - I can’t keep up. Worse than that I start to feel my back a couple of times and wonder if I will be able to carry a pack, something of a requirement when all your kit for the week is yours to carry.
Worse is to come as the week before I ride a final test bike ride of 75 miles to a holiday cottage we are staying at with family and friends. The ride itself is ok but I spend two nights being sick and unable to sleep because of the pain I’m in afterwards. It’s awful and less than 5 days until the start. A friend quips at least it’s a good way of shifting some weight prior to the race. Great.
Kit
I’d set my sights on using the Ultimate Direction Peter Bakwin pack after Anna used it to win the race last year. Throughout the year I’ve been chipping away at the weight of items. Hanger 18 sleeping bag to replace my bulky cheap buy, new thermal Berghaus smock to replace my bulky Mountain Equipment one and so it went on. Some things I kept the same - roll mat, proper plastic mug, Haglofs Gram waterproof, Injinji socks,. Last year I used My Race Kit for everything, this year they provide the medical and soap requirements and I am working out the food myself.
I have list after list after list of weights and calories of different food and energy products. I’ve worked out about 2,700 calories per day, apart from the long day where I’ve gone for 3,200. Carefully bagged, identified and sorted in to the various pockets on the pack. Last year I think it weighed 7.5kg and this year it’s just over 5kg. That’s a big difference over 235 miles. The decision on what bag to use made itself and it was necessity that decided it for me - the Montane Dragon 20 litre I was going to use has it’s belt across my waist and the weight sits on my lower back - simply not an option this year. The UD bag sits on the shoulders and ribcage area leaving the lower back free of weight. This meant I was forced to pack lighter than I may have done otherwise - no room for ‘I might need this’ or ‘I’ll take this just in case’. That’s your lot.
Registration for Deadwater
I'm unsure of myself at registration. Unsure of how I'm going to feel starting a race where I'm the returning champion. I say a few hellos and get my number. Number 5. Someone remarks I should have had the number 1 as the returning champion but I quite like the number 5 and it's first come first served.
We have a briefing in parts as people arrive at different times and in small groups as they are collected. When there are enough people we have a kit check, a bag drop check and we sort ourselves in to tents. In the queue I hear ahead of me that a competitor is being told he can't run with the jacket he's brought as it's not waterproof. I lean forwards and offer my spare jacket. I have to make a decision now about which jacket is going to be my spare that I was going to leave behind. Mind made up I hand it to him to add to his pack and make him promise to look after it until the finish.
I've driven up in the camper-van and was unsure whether I would be sleeping in the van or in a tent for the night before but settle on joining a tent, partly to join the other competitors from the start and partly because I'm likely to get more sleep than sharing the van with my family (two small children!).
The tents have names and I settle for The Forest and lay my things out - sleeping mat, sleeping bag and my pack for the week. I say a few hellos to my fellow racers and the crew, some of whom are returning competitors from last year come to lend a hand. Then I walk down to the local pub and have a final proper meal with my family and we chat to a couple of runners.
I wonder often about the first Deadwater,. During the race I took a surprise lead on day two and then held and extended the lead until the end. I won. I was driven somewhat by the recent death of my father and I worked through a lot of emotion during the race. I wonder if it was a fluke? I wonder if I'll care enough to run hard again? I wonder if I'm fit enough to race the other competitors, who I know little about except by reputation? I wonder if I'll remember the way? I wonder if I'll stick to my plan to go steady? I wonder if I've packed too light? I wonder if I've packed enough food? Is my pack too small? What if my shoes fall apart? What if my foot/back/leg/head goes? Only time will tell and as I settle down into my sleeping bag I add another question to the list. What if I haven't packed enough warm clothes? It's cold going to sleep and upon waking in the early morning I can see my breath in the air and the tent is forming a layer of tiny ice crystals as frost. I'm cold. It's August. It's frosty. It's nearly time to start.
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