Ten things I have learnt in the last decade about trail running
I write this, on the sofa, having barely left my apartment in days. Not really the image of a prolific trail runner and mountain person, but I have been struck by something like flu, so rather than mope about it, I have decided to get all nostalgic about what getting outside over the past ten years has meant to me.
To be honest, ten years ago, I wasn’t strictly trail running. I lived in London, and enjoyed a run around the city blocks in order to “keep fit” , but it was always a means to an end. It would not be until three years later that I would place my foot on less concrete terrain and realise what adventures were about to take place.
However, rather than a biographical account of the progression of my running, I want to get straight to it and get to the ten main things I have learnt about trail running over the last so many years.
Whether hiking or running, the trails in the Alps deliver
Just a typical day
Nothing stays clean.
Trail running is often muddy. Sometimes, a little bloody (or that just might be a peach that exploded in your pack, giving you the fright of your life - true story). Family members have offered their camaraderie in helping to clean my muddy shoes as it is such a constant. You find mud on your shins often about a week later, despite your best efforts.
Food takes over your life.
“What do I take with me on this run?”
“Shall we factor in a bakery stop?”
“I HAVE JUST DONE 5 HOURS TRAINING THERE IS NOT ENOUGH FOOD IN THIS HOUSE TO HELP ME”
I really love food. But when the miles begin to clock, so does the appetite. Sometimes, to almost antisocial amounts (ordering more than everyone else around you at a restaurant, asking for snacks at friends houses before being offered etc) . A love of running and eating however go together quite nicely through both training and racing (food stations en route are part of the reason I race).
You appreciate the machine that we all are, and the cool things we are capable of doing, and thus the need to fuel it right, and often.
You get through music pretty quickly
I tend to run (not race) with music. So I get through a lot of tracks and podcasts. If I find a new song I like I will listen to it for miles on repeat. Then subsequently hate it.
There is no such thing as bad weather
Not strictly true, racing the OMM in the Dark Mountains in 2018 where we headed straight into a blizzard, was not ideal. But in general, rain keeps you cool, a bit of wind keeps you focused and if anything, too much glorious sunny weather just risks overheating (I still like it though).
You`ve got to like being a bit of a loner
I had this discussion with a good friend about the definition of being an introvert or an extrovert. You see,I have a job which requires a lot of public speaking and confidence, and yet while I find that concept relatively easy and am comfortable in large groups of people, I get most of my energy from being outdoors, often for hours, alone.
When in Chamonix, taking myself after work for a lone trip to the top of Brévent on a summer’s evening
Francis Bacon: “Whoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god”. Hmmm. Neither apply, although while I do love running with friends and people who love the outdoors, I do really like “beasting” myself on the trail - just me. It is meditative, it helps to “think about thinking”, and it makes for good adventure-telling when you get back. My late Grandfather was a trail runner in the Far East, and my Father equally enjoys long solitary walks. Family trait or simply a personal preference, I find the time spent alone really enriching.
As a woman, it’s empowering
Racing, alongside other strong women, or holding the pack with the blokes, feels great. Knowing you can run long distances, stay strong, endure the trail, keep focused and fight your corner. Arguably, women are thought to be well evolved for endurance, and seeing women hold their own in sport is something I feel passionate about. People often seem surprised when I say I am a mountain runner, and I like the perspective challenge.
It’s not the be all and end all.
I really love running. I feel very lucky and privileged to have been supported from early on by Salomon as one of their ambassadors. I think about my next training while still on the current run. Free weekends - well, it is the first thing I think about (and prioritise, unless, life has other ideas - que flu). But I am passionate about other things to. Working with young people in my profession. Reading. Writing plays. Drawing. Walking along the sea coast with my parents when I go home. I talk about running a lot, and I love where the last decade has taken me. I am most happiest when I run, but running is more a way of life to meditate on the rest of life - it is a huge part of me, not the whole of me.
Sports injuries are mentally as well as physically tough.
Finding out all your training has gone down the pan because you categorically cannot risk racing on a new injury is like being told your degree suddenly doesn’t count. Sounds dramatic, but in the moment, you realise all that planning, dreaming, training and hard work essentially has just been “for the ride” and won`t surmount to reaching your goal. If you put it crudely, it is being told all that slogging has been for nothing.
Ankle support on, psyche coming back - 2019 not the favourite of years for running when it comes to injury
So you learn to enjoy the journey -you have to - otherwise it is a heck of a lot of pressure on one event, and unless you are an elite athlete, there shouldn’t be that pressure - least of all, from yourself.
I am incredibly competitive and really enjoy racing, but I enjoy the serenity that comes with just exploring, just as much - if not more. I did not race in 2019 due to continual injury setbacks, so this ended up being the alternative, and equally fulfilling trajectory (even if it meant I had to exercise patience more than anything).
Now we`re back (fingers crossed) for 2020. But I don`t fool myself into thinking it won`t happen again. So listening to what your body is telling, constantly, is key.
I laugh my hardest on the trail
When I go out for a big training day, especially pre-race, there is for sure, a lot of expectation to “get stuff done”. But also, on really long days, you can really have such a blast. I have had memories of laughing so hard I have been unable to properly run forward (just to confirm, this is WITH others, before you assume madness). If it was not fun, I fundamentally would not do it.
So if you are thinking of getting into trail running because you want to enjoy the great outdoors and have a laugh, then it’s easy. Just go.
Anyone can do it.
It`s all completely relative. I have not yet run 100 miles - I have many friends that have. To me that seems a long way. To some, me running 20km on the hoof, seems a long way. Distances with lots of ascent seem maybe impossible for some, while I take of my hat to flat marathon runners because that is something I am in awe of.
I still remember when I first ran 10 miles. I looped the country roads around the house where my family lived. It was flat. The sense of achievement as I embarked upon the next 2 mile loop kept me going.
All I did after that was slowly and gradually add some hill, add some distance, and now 50km is not something I shy away from.
It is also not about being fast. I am not fast compared to the many. I am just stubborn.
If you are stubborn, grit your teeth and seek adventure, you never know how far you could go.
Here`s to the next decade…
