Cape Wrath Ultra: "We're Half Way There" (sang)

Another week has passed since my return to normality, and I'm clinging on to memories from CWU.  I shed a smile or two with each retelling of the adventure, and try to maintain the zen-like state I came home with.  This week has mostly consisted of rest... well, not 'rest' per-say, I've still been quite busy, but only minimal exercise.  I did my first run on Tuesday; an easy 7km with a friend, and it felt good!

So, back to the story!

The start line

After months of preparation it was finally here!  I'm often emotional lining up to start a big race.  Today was no different.  Normally I get a bit teary during the swim of an ironman; doesn't help with vision in your goggles! All those hours of training and sacrifices you've made finally come to fruition.

It was a grey, drizzly day in Fort William.  One last toilet stop and a panicked emergency dose of Imodium (please just be nerves and not the remnants of my stomach bug), then I was at the Nevis Centre with other competitors.  I managed to get the last space on the first boat, and a caterpillar of runners, we wiggled our way along the high street to the boat.  All on board, most people cowered inside from the rain.  I stood outside, watched Fort William shrink further away, tracing my husband along the shore as he disappeared back to the car.

Nervously watching Fort William shrink away.
Photo by Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

I reflected on what I was about to endure.  Crazy.  Definitely crazy!  The piper played us onto land, and we milled around, drinking tea, chatting nervously.

I'd reccied day 1 a couple of months previously; 10km on the road, 15km of easy track, 5 km of up and down with a bit of mud, 5km of easy track.  An easy day!  Actually when I had run it, I'd had such a terrible run, and could only hope I'd be on better form.

Two more boats arrived, then it was time.  Off we went!  I ran with Owain and we were determined to go slow, constantly time-checking ourselves and reminding ourselves to slow down.  The day was uneventful, and we arrived into camp after 4hr30 of running (faster than planned...), ready to settle into camp routine!

Camp Life

Tent life in tent 13 was pretty spectacular!  Known as the 'babes tent', we definitely had the most laughs!  We had Sarah Witte (our pocket rocket, finished second place), Pam from America (great sense of humour), Lillian (fountain of knowledge, having done the route 2 years ago), Irene (very wise, mother-like, looking after us all) and Pilar from Mexico (unfortunately had bilateral tibial stress fractures).  I was fortunate enough to share my sleeping compartment with Jill, a fellow doctor.  Words to describe Jill other than lovely (which she definitely is!); determined and stubborn!!

You quickly settle into camp life with a routine; wash, dry feet, clean clothes, warm clothes, pack bag for tomorrow, lay out your bed, then eat, and eat some more!  Early to bed (9pm where possible), followed by early to rise (5.30am) to start it all again; tape feet, pack up bed, eat some more, pack kit bag, and ready to go at 7am.

Day 2: Hitting Rock Bottom

Things quickly get serious on day 2 as you head across Knoydart.  Weighing in at 57km and 1800m of climbing, this was clearly not going to be a walk in the park... and man it really wasn't!  The day started well with a nice climb, before a slippy, slidey, boggy descent down to our first river crossing of the course.  I'd been quite worried about these as I hadn't really done many/ any in the past.  Fortunately there wasn't much to worry about!  Get your feet wet and get on with it!

After CP1 we hit a good path in the woods, and then trucked along through Glen Dessarry, teaming up with Ian also.  It was good to have someone with new jokes to add; me and Owain were already running out!

The day was beautiful (well, what we could see of it... it did rain a fair bit) and the highlight was coming into the stunning Barrisdale bay.  Knowing you were 8 or 9km away from the finish was quite exciting.  Unfortunately I'd been warned this was not an easy end to the day, with more undulations and rough trail than desired.  Our tent named this stretch the Barrisdale Bastard; very appropriate.  At this point I ran out of energy big style, and ran out of food.  I think if I hadn't been sick in the lead-up to the race I would have been fine, but just lacked the glycogen stores to get me through.  Fortunately for me, Owain and Ian fed me Jelly Babies and Strawberry laces and kept me moving.  We were met with a downpour as we arrived in camp; cold, tired and wet.

Wet and wild on day 2
Photo by Steve Ashworth

At this point I wandered what the heck I was doing, even beginning to think I was good enough to be here!  I felt rough, and there was no way I could get this course finished!  One of the race crew carried my bag over to my tent, and offered me a much needed hug.  I responded to said hug with a barrage of tears (sorry Owen!).  At this point he helpfully told me what to do; "give me your mug, get inside, get dry and get some warm clothes on."  By the time he re-appeared 5 minutes later with a hot cup of tea and a piece of chocolate cake, I had warm clothes on and was sorting out my wet feet.  Absolute hero!  I don't think I would have finished if it hadn't been for Owen making sure I was ok, then checking in with me throughout the rest of the week.  The support crew (all of them, not just Owen, although he definitely deserves a special mention) were absolutely amazing!  Armed with plenty of hugs and words of wisdom and support, they definitely helped me get through the week!

Day 3: Reaching new heights

The night before, after a tough day out on day 2, I was stressing about day 3; it was longer AND hillier!  (68km, 2,400m ascent).  After the struggle I'd had on day 2, there was no chance I'd finish this!  Laura (medic, previous finisher in 2016) reassured me that it was an easier day and I'd be ok; she was definitely right!

I set off early, again with Owain and Ian, and we quickly left behind the beautiful Kinloch Hourn.  After coming over the first hill of the day, we hit the bottom of the Forcan ridge.  The rock was dry, and I felt like I had remembered how to run again.  Trusting my feet on the dry rock, it felt incredible to run down over the bottom of the ridge, before dropping down into a grassy glen; this was definitely one of the highlights of the course for me.  If day 2 had been rock bottom, day 3 was definitely very special!

In Shiel Bridge we popped to the shop (like you do on an ultramarathon...) and greedily devoured salt and vinegar crisps, an ice cream and a drink as we stomped on through the village.  At which point my husband unexpectedly appeared to cheer us on.  That, plus a wardrobe malfunction that saw me wearing all purple, made for a positively cheery day!  I was re-named the positive purple pixie, with various alliterative extensions to the name.

The positive purple pixie (with giant smile!)
Photo by Fiona Outdoors

The sun was shining and the day was good.  Although it did keep going, and going, and going!  Between CP6 and CP7 we passed a particularly boggy bit of terrain, including crossing over some very deep bits of bog.  It was particular amusing watching David Deane take a very daring run and jump over one of these deep boggy channels.  Fortunately for him, this went well.  But it would also have been amusing to watch him land waist deep in bog... we took a more cautious route around that bit!

The Bearnais bothy was as beautiful as expected, and then we slogged up the final hill of the day.  By now, we also had Rob in tow, who generously shared the bottle of coke with us that he had been carrying since Shiel Bridge.  We headed up the hill, Ian leading the way, and had our first ultra-running alphabet.  If you've never played the game it goes along the lines of 'I went ultra-running and I took... A, B, C, with each person repeating the previous, plus adding one; an Altimeter, Barometer, Cat (!), Day-Glo running top, Energy Bar, Foxes Glacier Mints, Ginger Cat etc etc etc.  It certainly made the hill pass quickly, before we arrived at the high point, to begin a long, torturous descent down into camp at Achnashellach.

The sun had been shining, but camp was still wet... very wet!  Puddles had formed in our tents as they had been taken down and re-erected wet.

Day 4: A Rest Day?

Short, at only 35km, heading through Torridon was far from a rest!  Clocking in at only 8 hours, it was definitely easier than the previous 12 hour days, but the terrain was definitely challenging.  Our team became four today, as Glenn joined myself, Owain and Ian.  Introducing the dream team...

Glenn, like myself, was a fan of singing, so things started to get lively as we headed up through Coire Lair.  Crossing the first Col of the day, we were singing Elton John's "Can you feel the love tonight" (the Lion King version!).  It was pretty special hearing it echo around off the rocky cliffs.  Wow!  A good path, with some nice running, took us down to the Ling hut and a road crossing/ check point.

We continued uphill, and around the back of Benn Eighe, initially on a good path as far as the Loch.  Seeing the triple buttress, it's hard to express the feeling of wonder and awe.  I contemplated winter routes I'm yet to climb, and can't wait to return!

Leaving the loch we experienced the highlight of the day; an enjoyable boulder field!  I don't know how many ankles were injured that day, but it was certainly a relief to reach camp uninjured.  At some point during the day, Canadian Mike passed us.  He had been following us up the hill during our alphabet the day before (but hadn't contributed); we presumed he just hadn't listened.  How wrong we were!  In his lovely accent, he said hi, then proceeded the recite the beginning of our alphabet; it had us in fits of giggles!

Day 4 finished in Kinlochewe at 3pm, with the sun shining!  Finally a chance to dry out wet kit, and have a proper wash under a tap in the field.  (I'm sure I washed at the end of day 3 too, I just can't remember doing so...).  We treated ourselves to a trip to the shop for more ice cream and a can of pop, plus a chance to buy extra food supplies.  The mood was overwhelmingly positive that evening in camp.  We were half way there!!

Before you get too bored, it's definitely time for my nightshift; and half way is a good place to pause!

Cape Wrath Ultra: A Prelude

It's funny.  For someone who is never short of something to say, I've been really struggling to find the words to put down in this post.

It's been almost a week since we finished running the Cape Wrath Ultra, and a repetitive stream of unoriginal adjectives have been flowing from my mouth; Amazing!  Incredible!  Beautiful!  Stunning!  Hard Work!  Life-reaffirming.  I just can't seem to find the right words to describe quite how amazing this journey has been.  I'm left with a sense of peace and inner calm; something I've been struggling to achieve for months as I bounce around a manic A&E department at work, or cram in hours of triathlon/run training into an already-too-busy week.

This week, despite overwhelming fatigue, I have felt incredibly relaxed and calm, even in the midst of a hectic department!  Time on the trail has always been my bit of headspace; a time for mindfulness.  Well 75 hours and 13 minutes clearly gave me a lot of time!!

Happiness is... 
Photo by ©Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

In The Beginning

My journey to the Cape Wrath Ultra began last year when I met race organiser Shane Ohly in a ski hut in the Austrian Alps.  Our ski tour had been scuppered by bad weather, but good conversation made up for it!  After a few days of enforced rest, we finally escaped the hut, and the CWU seed had been sewn in the back of my mind.  Shane also turned us vegetarian; well done!

Having watched the 2016 CWU film on BMC TV, I promised myself that if i finished my first ultra (the Highland Fling) then I'd enter Cape Wrath.  I mean one 53 mile ultra verses an 8 day expedition race... meh!  It'll be fine!  Race entries opened; I was clicking refresh, ready to go, and had entered in minutes, before I had a chance to change my mind!

Finishing the Fling with Owain.
Photo by Stuart Mcfarlane.

A summer of triathlon training followed (racing Ironman is my usual thing), ending with a strong race in September, then a bit of downtime.  Autumn followed and time to pick up the training again.  I did feel sorry for my poor triathlon coach Jon, trying to combine training for a horrendously long ultra, with keeping up some bike and swim fitness.  Thanks Jon and Matt from TCUK!

Winter went well and rolled round into spring.  The miles were ticking by, but moving back to Sheffield (after a year of work and play in Snowdonia) and onto a more challenging rota certainly took it's toll!  As CWU grew rapidly closer I had to relax and trust that I had the miles in my legs, and the strength in my head!


Almost the end

After much debate about kit, buying and replacing bits and pieces, decisions about shoes etc, it was a week before the race and I was packing my kit bag, almost ready to go.  Then disaster struck.  It started with a bike crash.  I rode my bike into a stationary car at traffic lights on the Sunday before the race.  Except for an angry driver, car, bike and myself were OK, if not a little shaken.

Then came a bad stomach bug.  It's not uncommon in my job to get the occasional bout of diarrhoea and vomiting (call it an occupational hazard!); my body is very good at shaking it off within 24hrs.  This time, from Monday through to Wednesday, things were not so good!  Any food went straight through me, and I laid in bed feeling very sorry for myself, doubting I'd reach the start line.  I gave myself ultimatums; if you stop poo-ing/ start eating by X then you can race... I kept moving the deadline backward though!  I knew full-well if I was giving advice to a patient I would be telling them not to race.

Big thanks though to Em for telling me to get some Cipro, and Georgie for telling me to get on the start line anyway!  Thankfully by Thursday my bowels had settled, and by Friday my appetite returned... phew!


Prelude

I headed up to Fort William on the Friday for a couple of days of R&R with the husband (who had been working away on Skye).  Staying in a Shepard's hut in Torlundy we had incredible views of the Ben, and I had a chance to concentrate on eating, sleeping, and making sure I was as ready as possible before the race started.  Big credit to Tom for tolerating two days of rest rather than climbing, especially when the sun was shining and we could see the incredible north face of the Ben!  It must be love...

On Saturday I joined the long queue at registration, and eagerly chatted to fellow competitors, as we waited to register.  The support crew were very patient as we trotted around the hall, visiting each stand.  How many times must they have repeated the same information??  I was a bubble of nervous excitement, with a massive grin on my face!  Heading back for the briefing and meal, I met up with Owain, who I ran the final 20km of the Highland Fling with in 2017.  We were excited, and planned to start the race together the next day.

Things get serious.
Photo: Tom Hecht (I think...)

I unpacked then re-packed my running bag.  Clothes sat in a pile on the side.  It was too late to change my mind anyway; I'd already checked-in my kit bag for the week that evening.  One final chance to sleep in a bed, before the race began!  I tossed and turned, waking with dawn, as ready as I could be!

To be continued...

Triathlon; when things don't go right

It's been an interesting season out in Chamonix.  Time is finally running out, and I'm due back at work next week in the UK, after what can only be described as the best 6 months of my life so far.  Taking time off work, and coming out to Chamonix so that Tom (my husband) could focus on getting the pre-requisites for the British Mountain Guide training scheme was initially a hard decision to make; it took some persuading on Tom's behalf!

The last 6 months have been a whirlwind of skiing, climbing, training for triathlon, and generally having adventures!  I've barely written at all since being off; mostly because I've barely stopped!  I want to write a bit about my triathlon season, which I'm going to do over two posts; firstly about when things haven't gone so well, and then about my race at the weekend, which thankfully went well!

In January, before finishing work, I decided to spend a month really focussed on swimming.  I had a swim analysis session with Swim Revolution just before christmas, then spent January swimming my socks off, in the pool 4 times a week.  I then had a repeat analysis at the end of January, before jetting off to Chamonix.  I'm a reasonably strong swimmer, but no thanks to technique; purely due to the sheer force I can generate using my climbing muscles!  It's been unbelievable the improvement in my stroke, and consequently my swim times!  Since being in Chamonix I've been in the pool (or the lake now it's warmer) at least 3 times a week.  It's been good to see myself improving, and also to see Chris, one of my training buddies, go from struggling to swim 25m non-stop to being able to swim 2km without stopping.

One of the problems (is it really a problem??) with Chamonix is the snow!  It really inhibits early season running and biking.  My first race of the year was to be in late May, but my first proper run (according to Strava) wasn't until the 31st March; only 8 weeks before my first race.  As for biking, other than a bit of turbo-training (and I mean a bit, not a lot!!), I didn't start riding until early April.  In the UK I would have spent all winter racking up training miles, but suddenly I was a long way behind the line!  From previous years I know that I am better at races later in the season.  I'm always better after I've managed to fit in some mileage on a multi-day bike tour.

So anyway... that's already a lot of rambling about my poorly structured training!  (It mostly consisted of 3 swims/ 3 bikes/ 3 runs a week once the snow had gone, plus some climbing thrown in for added fun, and pilates as my 'strength & conditioning' session each week).  Time is definitely a luxury, and my training has definitely not been smart or well-structured!

My season kicked off with Grafman; a middle distance (half-ironman) race back in the UK.  I was flying home specifically for the race, as I was hoping to try and qualify for the European Middle Distance Championships in Austria in September.  Austria would be my 'A' race, and I had put a lot of pressure on myself to turn up and race well.  But it did feel like there were a lot things stacked against me; the race was early in the year, and I knew I definitely hadn't ridden enough.  Two weeks before Grafman I was in Italy, having a great trip sport-climbing.  I remember waking up on the final morning and noticing a small red mark on my shoulder, which I thought was a reaction to some tree sap from the day before.  We got in the car to drive home, and as the journey continued the mark grew, pussed, then crusted over.  "Oh cr*p, I've got impetigo," I realised!  I quickly got some fucidin from the local pharmacy, and after 48hrs (with minimal response) then started on oral antibiotics.  Only 5 days until a big race, and I'm taking oral antibiotics, and developing horrible gastritis... this is going to be fun!

Retrospect is a wonderful thing!!  Retrospectively I should never have flown home to race; I really wasn't well enough.  But I had heaped loads of pressure onto myself; I was determined to perform and qualify.  I turned up in the UK with a terrible stomach, but lined up on the start-line anyway.  I swam well and got a massive swim PB, and even the bike started well; at least until I started vomiting.  To be fair, I finished the bike in  reasonable time.  It was slower than I had hoped, but still not too bad.  But vomiting copiously on the bike (and not just little vomits, the big kind that soak your shoes...) did not set me up for a good run.  Sensibly I decided not to run; so becomes my first DNF (Did Not Finish) in a race.  A friend recently said that if you do enough races, you will have a bad one, and here was my first big example of a bad race.  I felt disappointed; especially because my hopes of going to Austria were now shattered.  But I should not have been on the start line in the first place with impetigo!  Lessons learned; sometimes a DNS (Did Not Start) is more sensible than a DNF!  My Mum and her husband were superstars that weekend, picking me up from the airport, ferrying me around all weekend, supporting etc.

After Grafman I had Ironman France at the start of June (Gulp!!).  As mentioned before, I knew I don't race well early season, but I had a couple more weeks training under my belt and felt ready anyway.  As with Grafman, the race started well, with a strong swim, and another PB (not bad given it was a sea swim!).  I headed off on the bike, and started to climb.  The IM France bike course climbs for 56 miles, before then descending.  I climbed well, obviously tiring a bit as I neared the top, before starting to descend; at this point things started to go wrong.  I was not prepared, and only had my tri-suit.  I had gone from sweating in the sun to shivering as I descended.  Then the heavens opened and the rain poured down.  I hate descending at the best of times, but descending in the rain whilst shivering and on wet roads is just plain miserable.  This was made worse because I knew the descent was supposed to be a bit technical, and that someone had died crashing on it during a previous year's race.

I asked myself that the hell I was doing, and couldn't come up with a good enough answer.  I wasn't enjoying myself, I was petrified of crashing, and I was freezing cold.  I made a decision to retire from the race, but then realised that Tom couldn't collect me, so had to cycle another 10 miles to reach a point where he could get me.  Those 10 miles were miserable; I had a bit of an identify crisis, as I struggled with my decision to quit, having two DNFs in a row.  I wondered if perhaps I should be quitting triathlon full-stop, and if that was the case, then who the hell was I?  Because up until this point I would have defined myself as a triathlete, who climbed a bit, and I felt that I was no longer going to be a triathlete, but I wasn't sure who I was going to be instead.  Tom picked me up, a shivering mess, crying and feeling very sorry for myself.  Fortunately I have a lot of wonderful, supportive friends, who sent me lovely messages, gave me massive hugs, and told me things would be ok, and that I had made the right decision at the time.

Retrospect for the ironman... I definitely made the right call stopping when I did.  I was an idiot, totally underprepared, having underestimated how cold descending gets (I've been riding around the alps, I should have known better!), and without any warm clothes.  Stopping was the right thing to do; it beats being scrapped off the road.  But I will be back to complete IM France another year.

I've definitely learnt some hard lessons this year with these two bad races.  Thankfully though, my next race (Challenge Poznań) went well; I'll write about that in my next blog post.  Thing's can't all be bad hey??

Chamonix Ramblings

At some point I need to work out how to update my blog page, because this has stopped being about my 'year of suffering', and will now just be random ramblings about current adventures/ climbing/ triathlon...  Anyway...

It’s being an interesting first month in Chamonix; a very stark contrast to the 60-70hr weeks I’ve been working in Paeds A&E over the last 6 months.  I’ve always been very career-orientated, and after what seems like a constant treadmill of GCSEs > A-levels > Med School > Foundation training > Specialty training, I finally felt that I needed to take some time out.  I’m almost halfway through my Emergency Medicine training, and am very fortunate to have been allowed to take 6 months off and have a job to return to in August.

This couldn’t have come at a better time, especially with the stress of junior doctor contract imposition; the imposition was announced the day after we arrived in Chamonix; I sat in the corridor (the only place we can connect to Wi-Fi) and cried.  Who knows what the contract really means, especially for people like me on time-out from training, but for now I’m focussed on enjoying this time out, and will deal with the consequences when I get back.

Clearly I’ve been enjoying Chamonix too much, because I’m now poorly with laryngitis; I suspect 24 days in a row of playing in the snow (plus swimming and turbo-training) has pushed me too far; I really will learn the importance of rest one day soon!!

Car loaded and ready to roll...

So we arrived in Chamonix to heavy rain, and doubts about winter; the valley looked very black!  Fortunately though, we woke in the morning to fresh snow.  The morning was spent moving into our apartment after a night on Heather’s sofa, before quickly getting out to play with an afternoon of snow at Les Houches.  This included my first foray into off-piste, complete with tree-crashes!

We’ve quickly settled into Chamonix-life, with an incredibly social group of ex-pats.   Since arriving my skiing has improved no-end (although I am by no-means a good skier, and am scared by anything remotely steep!).  You just can’t beat a day of blue skis and powder!  With a head for numbers and rotas, my last rota continues to roll through my head; “you’d be working nights now if you were still in the UK…” Certainly I know where I’d rather be!

Italian coffee in Courmayeur... Mmmmm!

Highlights since being out here include a day ski-touring with Heather and Rosie, doing the Col du Cicle, and finally plucking up the courage to ski the Vallee Blanche and realising I shouldn’t have been so scared (I do have a rather irrational fear of crevasses and the snow arête down from the Midi).

Skiing with the parent-in-laws (Mel & Ian)

Girls go tour! (Photo- H Flo)

Nervous on the snow arete :S

Loving some powder on the VB

So that's what I've been so scared about... meh!

I also found out in mid-February that I have qualified for the British age-group team for the long-distance European Championships this summer in Poland (eeek!).  I just scrapped onto the team with a qualifying time of 118% (the cut-off is 120%).  Fortunately I’ve joined the swimming pool, and am managing to swim 3-4 times a week, as well as getting on my turbo 2-3 times a week until the snow goes.  I figure skinning up-hill with have to do instead of running for now.  My main aim in Poland is not to finish last in my age group!  Thankfully, I have Grafman in May (middle-distance), followed by Ironman France in June to help me feel a bit more race-ready, before flying off to Poland in July for the biggie!

Beautiful sunset colours.

Today is day 3.5 of rest for me (the few ski runs I attempted on Monday had me spluttering and crying in pain), and I’m finally starting to feel a bit better.  Outside the skies are blue, the sun is shining, and I can see para-gliders drifting down to land.  I'm dying to be better and be back outside playing!  I haven’t yet gotten bored of walking around the valley with my head angled upwards, gazing up at the surrounding mountains.  I feel very privileged to be able to call the valley my home, for now at least!  What a relief to have finally stepped off the medical treadmill for a while!

One complete year of suffering! (A photo summary!)

It's fair to say it has been a rather epic year!  After Dad's good news in January, I decided to raise some money for Orchid, a male cancer charity.  I never imagined I would raise almost £3000; thank you so much to everyone who has sponsored me!!  I really am grateful!!

(If you've been meaning to, but never got round to it, it isn't too late!  You can still sponsor me at www.virginmoneygiving.com/nikkisommers for a few weeks more.)

Flicking back through photos from 2015, it's hard to believe I have done quite so much!  I think I've only had about 2 or 3 weekends at home doing nothing all year.  I've either been away having adventures, racing, or at work!

January started with an incredible trip to climb Mount Kenya

S. W. Ridge on Neilion, Mount Kenya

The summit of Mount Kenya!

February included 2 awesome weekends of winter climbing in Scotland with Tom!  Crowberry Gully on the Buchaille, and then Route Major on Carn Etchachan

Scotland in sunshine (it's not the Alps, I promise!)

Crowberry Gully, Buchaille.

Route Major, Carn Etchachan

Back at the car with one BIG grin!

March came along with my first 'challenge'; the Island Race, a half marathon on Anglesey.

Nikki & Nicky!  Post-race... looking good :s

April started with a long weekend in the North West of Scotland (unfortunately winter evaded us...), before a quick trip to Paris for my first marathon.  Slower than hoped, but still good fun!

Easter weekend hit to Ullapool

Mandatory sight-seeing.

The only photo Tom managed to get of me...

May had me racing Slateman (challenge number three...) in rather disappointing form!  At the end of May we had a road-trip to the Orkney Islands to climb the Old Man of Hoy (challenge number four). Hoy was stunning, and I was fortunate enough to return again in September!

Getting ready to start Slateman.

Heather and the Old Man!

Disappearing into a sandy chimney... eurgh!

TEAM!  (Me, Tom, Heather & Johnny)

A speedy descent before darkness encroached.

My idea of heaven.  The bothy at Rackwick, Hoy.

June was when the suffering really began!  I cycled most of (less 50 miles) Land's End to John O'Groats over 7 days (after a set of night shifts! Challenge number five).  Unfortunately I stopped 50 miles before the end due to bad D&V.  Two weeks later, fully recovered and recharged I got back on my bike to Everest Froggatt! (challenge number six)

Day 1...

Day 2; still clean and happy.

Day 4; the father-in-law joined in for a few miles too!

Day 6; company appreciated! (a.k.a a wind-break!)

Day 8; back to Sheffield, broken!

Everesting, early on, still smiling.

Sunrise the next morning. Yawn...

I did it!  Hahahah! (Cue euphoria and bouncing around on pedals)

July saw me completing another ironman-distance triathlon (the Cotswold 226), and knocking a whole 2 hours off the previous year's time! This was challenge number seven.  Challenge number eight should have seen me climbing the matterhorn, but a warm summer meant it was closed due to rock fall.  We did a few other routes instead (and I had a rest!!)

A wet bike through the Cotswolds on the 226

Post-race with my rather proud Dad!

The Allalinhorn, my first alpine 4000m mountain (having faced my crevasse fear...)

The Jeginhorn, Switzerland.

August was a relatively quiet month, as I rotated jobs (away from a nice easy rota, to a rather more full-on one!), but I did do my first race in orange with TnT, a tri club I've trained with a bit over the last 2 years, and won my age group in the standard distance race; a first for me!

The Orange Army!!

September, and despite the new rota, the challenges continued!  Challenge number nine was the Inch-by-Inch swim-run race in Loch Lomond; certainly an interesting experience.  Whilst in Scotland I used the opportunity to re-do the last day of LEJOG from Inverness to John O'Groats (phew!!), then spent a few days of pure bliss exploring Orkney and Hoy on my bike.

Swim-running... We finished, that's something!!

Relieved to have finished the job! @ John O'Groats!

October; a bit late in the year for a 9 mile lake swim maybe??  Nah!!!!  I swam the length of Ullswater for challenge number ten.  It was a great day, with good weather and beautiful surroundings!

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Tired?  Just a bit!

November saw me try one of my more foolish ideas; running 7 marathons along the Thames path over 7 days.  Unfortunately my legs said no, and I stopped after 4 days with a bad calf strain.  Still great fun with Pippa, Bee and Duncan!  Challenge number eleven... not so successful!

The source of the Thames, in Kemble.

December, and challenge number twelve was equally frustrating!  I tried to run my first ultra; a hilly 38 miles in the Lake District.  I messed up on eating, and retired from the race at a disappointing 19 miles.  I enjoyed the half that I had run, and have certainly learnt a lot!

So, a rather crazy year!!!  Which would not have been possible without the support from all of my family and friends.  In particular, my husband Tom has been great at supporting me (especially when it's been nice weather and he could have been climbing instead!) throughout all of my challenges.  I have met lots of new and interesting people, and made some really good friends in the process!

2016 won't be about crazy challenges!  I'm sure I'll still be doing lots of similarly challenging things, but hopefully on a slightly less insane scale.  We're moving to Chamonix in February for 6 months, and I'm really looking forward to relaxing, skiing, and trying to focus my triathlon training a bit more!

One final ounce of suffering!

It's with a sense of relief, but also slight disappointment, that I sit down to write this blog.  It's been a whirlwind year; full of great memories and plenty of high points, although not without a few disappointments and lows to accompany it.

Yesterday could be seen as another low; another unsuccessful challenge!  I tried to run the Tour De Helvellyn; a tough 38mile ultra-marathon that circumnavigates Helvellyn; on the shortest Saturday of the year; in rather sub-optimal conditions.

I love the Lake District, Ullswater in particular, having spent plenty of time up here with my husband and his parents.  His Dad and partner live in the valley; as I type I can see out of the kitchen window and down to the lake.  My idea of heaven!  Mountains to climb, lakes to swim in, nice roads to bike on; what more could you want in life??

After swimming the length of Ullswater in October, I decided I needed a final challenge to finish the year off with; when I heard about the TdH (after checking with Tom) I quickly entered; we're up here for a long weekend of family Christmas celebrations anyway.  How tough could it be??  It didn't go over Helvellyn, only around it!

I came up a few weeks ago to recce the route, and ran the middle section (with most of the hills), finishing in the dark, and thoroughly enjoying the solitude and clear starry skies.  I was feeling nervous but hopeful.

Yesterday morning, after a fitful night of sleep, I was driven around to Askham by Tom and his Dad, ready for an early start.  7am, and after a kit-check, I was to of the door, and off into the dark, in heavy rain and gusting winds.  Fortunately Will was running with me over Askham Fell; definitely appreciated as I hadn't recce-ed this (was due to when the floods happened), and the nav would have been tricky in the dark, made worse by cowering inside my hood.  Within an hour it was getting light and head torches went off.  As we descended towards Howtown it was impressive (not in a good way) to see the mudslide from flooding which had blocked the road and completely covered the path in deep mud.

Leaving Askham with the father-in-law!

Dark & wet in Askhm at 7am!

I left Will behind after Howtown ("I'm jiggered" he said!  Apparently shortly after this he fell over face first; shame I missed it!).  My legs felt good and I was warm enough as I headed past Martindale church (the first check point), and then along Boardale and up over Boardale Hause.  You can start the race any time between 7 and 9am, but the second check point doesn't open until 9.30am.  You don't want to arrive early, so faster runners set off later.  Because of staggered starts, I had Boardale to myself, which was beautiful.  The fields were waterlogged and the river overflowing, but what a stunning bit of the Lake District in visit in almost complete solitude.  After climbing up onto Boardale Hause, it was a rocky, slippery descent down into Patterdale, and Side Farm; check point (CP) no.2.  Fortunately half way down the descent someone haired past me; this meant I could follow them in to the CP, as I wasn't completely sure which building was the CP.  A quick bite to eat and a bottle re-fill, then I was back on my way, into Patterdale, then round to Glenridding.  Glenridding was hit hard by the recent floods, but the clear-up job looks to have been amazing.  It was quite depressing to see the large village Christmas tree on it's side on top of a pile of rubbish.

After Glenridding it was an uphill slog up and over Stick's Pass, the biggest climb of the route.  This was in snow last time I had been here, but now it was just very, very wet!  I passed CP3 in reasonable time, but was moving slower than when I had recce-ed this part of the course.  I was feeling pretty bad, and was debating whether to turn around and head back to Patterdale, or keep going; if I kept going I would have to get around the 16 mile loop back to Patterdale.  I decided to keep plodding.  Reaching the top of the pass, I managed to tag on to the back of a couple of girls and followed their footing downhill into Thirlmere, managing to descend 10 minutes faster than when I had last been here!  As we descended the rain stopped and the clouds parted, revealing Thirlmere.  Absolutely stunning!  In Thirlmere I headed south to CP4 in Swirl How car park, arriving just as Tom and Will pulled up, a surprise visit, but quite a relief!  30km done, in 5hours.

I had a pounding headache (possibly a migraine), and was feeling rather rough.  I had been drinking well, but had messed up with food, and had not eaten enough for the 5 hours of running I'd already done, or the 5+ hours I still had to go.  I made what I think was a sensible decision to stop; the preceding hour of vomiting confirmed I'd made the right decision (and that I probably had a migraine).  I headed home disappointed, and cold, in soaking wet clothes.  A shower, then a bath, and then into bed, and I was feeling much better by the evening (in time to go and see Star Wars with Tom!).

So another unsuccessful challenge; 19 miles in wet, windy, rather grim weather!  I'm not too achy today so clearly didn't try hard enough! Ha!  I won't be rushing to enter next year's race, unless I can seriously focus on running over the next year.  But it's not all negatives; it's always good to have a reason to get out in the mountains, and despite the weather, that was still great!  I've spent a few sessions with Pippa, one of the A&E nurses who ran along the Thames Path with me in November, trying a bit of hypnotherapy to be more positive and have more self-belief!  I've also learnt I need to sort out my nutrition!

I'm now looking forward to a couple of weeks of rest, and a chance to do some reading about nutrition and training, before kick-starting the training in late January.  Next year we're moving to Chamonix for 6 months (from February to July), and I'm having a much-desired break from work!  Apart from lots of ski-ing (whoop!!!), I'll be trying to focus much more on triathlon, and be a bit more dedicated with my training.  Hopefully that should be a bit easier without working the 65- 70 hour weeks I have been will my current rotation!!

To finish, I'll just remind you all that I've been fund raising for Orchid, a male cancer charity!  So many of you have already been so so generous in sponsoring me; thank you!!!  If you still haven't (and have any pennies to spare to Christmas time; I know how expensive it can get!) and would like to you can at www.virginmoneygiving.com/nikkisommers thank you :).

Great news at Christmas time!

After a year of tough challenges, we've had some really good news this week!  Dad had his first scan last week to see if his cancer had come back or not; this is the first scan since January, where he got the all-clear after finishing chemo.  Thankfully it's great news!!  The scan is clear!  Last Christmas Dad was looking rather rough!  He had no hair, and had his final dose of chemo on Christmas eve.  This year I suspect he'll be looking a bit better!  Phew!

Me & my Dad! :)

It's been a hard year, full of challenges, as I've raised money for Orchid, a male cancer charity.  At the moment I've raised £2,600, but would love it if I would creep a bit closer to £3000!  If you want to sponsor me you can at www.virginmoneygiving.com/nikkisommers thank you!

This weekend I'll be running my final challenge; perhaps my hardest yet!  I'll be trying very hard to finish the Tour de Helvellyn; this is a hilly 38 mile ultra-marathon in the Lake District; currently the weather forecast is for heavy rain.  I'll feeling quite nervous and rather reluctant!