Failed to finish

The week started well. I visited my Uncle, the chiropractor, for some treatment on Tuesday night. He sorted out my back, and also managed to further sort out my right foot which was still troubling me since the injury a few weeks ago. Additionally, he freed my ankle joint further. For the first time in as long as I can remember my foot and ankle felt good afterwards.

On Wednesday I did a 9 mile endurance-pace trail route, using my head torch for the first time this year. The nights are drawing in, so a head torch is essential for the routes that I am running on.

On Thursday I did an 8 mile interval session, also incorporating hill intervals. This was a tough session, but one you finish, knowing that it will do you good in the long run. I didn't finish until 8pm, so once again I had to use my head torch. There are a few sections in woodland where it really would be too dark to run without one. Footing is treacherous as the best of times on these routes, but in darkness even more so.

I did my usual gym session on Friday, no problems there. On Friday night I packed a 6.5kg pack and made my preparations for the 23 mile Grin and Bear it event near Sheffield the following day.



Only half the map is shown you notice.

I have recently wiped my computer and reinstalled everything, so I had to reinstall my memory map program on my PC. I transferred the 23 mile route onto my main PDA, and my backup PDA and made sure all batteries were charged. I loaded the application on the PDA and checked the map was ready to go. I decided not to test the GPS (a separate Bluetooth unit) connectivity as I took it for granted this would be fine. You know how this story unfolds already don't you?

I set off at around 8:30am arriving only 10 minutes before the start of the race. This was bad planning on my part and contributed to the rest of the days failings. I quickly registered because everyone was lining up for the start. I reached for my PDA and realised I'd left it at the car. It was about a 1/4 mile return journey. I found my PDA on balanced on the boot outside my car. I was lucky it was still there!
I ran back, pulling on my backpack, juggling straps, switching PDA's, GPS, resetting my wristwatch etc. In other words, I was hassled and a little stressed. I got back and everyone was disappearing into the distance. Initially I just kept people in sight and they seemed to be following orange tape markers at junctions, so when I lost sight of them totally I continued to follow the orange tape. I was travelling slowly because I was struggling with my PDA. I could not get a satellite lock. I slowed to a walk, undid my pack, reset my GPS, and put it all back on; still nothing. I then tried my backup PDA, same problem. So far I had wasted 10 minutes, and now realised to my horror that the orange tape markers were going in the wrong direction. (I later found out they marked the walkers short course!)

I almost just threw in the towel at this point. I was barely 10 minutes in, already lost and with no satellite navigation. I took off my pack, turned off all the electronics and took out my compass and the route description, and small map. I started to feel better at that point. Ok, so I had no GPS, and this was apparently a tricky route, with 10 miles of open moor crossing. However, the route looked straightforward enough. It travelled in more or less straight lines between checkpoints, and I had seen a satellite image and knew there was a rough path at least.

However, first I had to get back to the route. I turned 180 degrees and used my sense of direction to try and guide me back to where I should be going. I was studying the map, and not paying enough attention to where my feet were going. I caught a stone, or a ditch, I'm not sure which and my foot rolled outwards with an audible crack and sharp pain. An inversion sprain in other words. The loudness of the crack worried me, but after a few tentative steps it didn't feel too bad. Maybe I’d got away with it?

A few minutes later, after some trans-forest guesswork I found the path which led up onto the moors. There was no one in sight now in any direction; they were all 10 or 15 minutes ahead of me. Initially the terrain was good, as shown below.




I followed the route description, and even proved myself competent with a compass. I always assume I'm navigationally challenged, but really when forced to, I guess I can at least follow a bearing!

The terrain was pretty reasonable, with a steady climb up to the first checkpoint on Margery Hill. On the way up, I inverted my ankle again. No crack this time, but it hurt more.

At the CP, they pointed me onto checkpoint 2. The terrain deteriorated at this point. Initially there was just odd shallow muddy patches.




Then bigger patches, followed by deeper mud and full on bogs.




Twice more I went over on the same ankle in the next couple of miles incidentally. Each time it got worse. Why did it keep happening?

About half a mile after CP2 though, there was a guy standing in the middle of the moors shouting something to me. I could not hear until I got closer. He pointed me at his rucksack 100M off the main path ahead. He said to run to his rucksack before going back to the path, because they had already had to haul out some people who had gone in up to their chest, and got stuck!

I thanked him, and skirted around the deep bog before re-joining the path and following the well marked path. The event was being run by Woodhead Mountain Rescue team, and they had clearly marked 'the path' with flags every few hundred metres. A quick mention to say what a well run event this was, and judging by the amount of cars on the car park, I'd guess at a couple of hundred competitors all doing various length-events that day.

I reached the high point and took these last couple of photos. Not a bad view on the second one. It would have looked nice on a clear day. As it was, the weather was dry and not too cold. Good conditions in fact.




The terrain was pretty rough, despite the well marked path; lots of leaping and skirting around areas, with streams to cross too. However, I foolishly followed someone’s footsteps into a muddy area and immediately sank up to both knees. The mud sucked me in tight and I was dead stuck! I was only on the edge of the bog so I sat backwards on the edge, but just could not get my feet out; at least not without losing my shoes. I had to cup my hands and dig my own feet out! After a couple of minutes I managed it, and made a mental note to be more careful. However, despite my best efforts over I went on my ankle again before CP2 again. Something clearly wasn't right.

My ankle was painful but I could still run when I set off on the 1.5 mile section to CP3. The terrain improved, but I inverted my ankle for a 6th time just before joining a green lane (a better path) on the run up to the CP. Now, if my foot landed flat and level it felt ok, but as soon as it landed on any kind of angle it hurt like hell. I was obviously not running correctly because at the CP they asked what was wrong as I approached. They could see I was half-hobbling. I told them that it was just inverting all the time. I could only assume after the first big one, a weakness had developed and my ankle could no longer support me properly. They said do I want to continue? I sat down, took off my shoe and sock. There wasn't a lot to see. It looked a little red in the ankle joint but that was all. I stood up. I could still bear weight on it. I could still run on it. Should I give up?

I had never had to retire from an event before, but I was only at the 9.5 mile mark; although I had probably covered an additional mile at the beginning, at least, through getting lost. I knew I could carry on if it got no worse, but the fact that it kept on inverting meant that I could, by the law of averages, expect it to happen at least another half-dozen times more in the remaining 13 miles (possibly more). Any one of those could be 'the big one' - snap - end of MDS! I could make it round the course and be brave, then return home with a foot like a pineapple and be out for weeks or a couple of months, or worse. I took the much harder decision, and said I would retire.

As it was, I could still walk, so maybe the damage was not too bad. They gave me a lift back to the car and I drove home. It felt ok as I drove. Was I just being a big baby? When I got out of the car at home, it was apparent I was not. It had seized up during the 1.5hour return drive and weight bearing was painful. I hobbled inside, took ibuprofen and put an ice pack on it. I took that photo, the one in the previous blog post, and then got into a hot path to clean up and soothe the joint. All of the above helped, but I was, and still am hobbling now.

This morning the ankle was swelled. Not to mythic proportion, but it is noticeably larger, red and bruised. I know I took the right decision to retire as I now hobble painfully around the house. I could have done terrible damage by running through it with bravado. I've kept on top of the ibuprofen, and I'm now due another ice pack.

I won't be running this week. I don't know how many days it will take to improve. I have next weekend as a hopeful possibility at the moment, but of course won't risk it if it's not right.

I am annoyed at myself. It was my bad preparation that caused it. If I had tested my PDA properly I would not have even been on the path where it happened. That said, you can always say 'What if'? Maybe it would have happened anyway, I don't know. I've said it before, but with trail running you have to have 100% concentration on every footfall. The slightest lapse or daydream and you would be punished.

The only positive I can take from yesterday was that I felt fresh as a daisy after 10 miles of very hard terrain. Let’s hope I heal quickly and can get back to it soon.