Normipäivä

Now that I'm back in good spirits and well adapted to cross training I thought of describing my regular day, normipäivä, as it is.

6am Wake up and some gymnastics to wake up my foot while having a morning coffee. It's raining cats and dogs but luckily it's only a brief ride to gym.

7am Spinning. I'm still half asleep but the instructor seems to think it's a hard session and everyone should put his or her max effort into it. Aargh..

8am Swimming & sauna. I finally start to get off my morning stiffness.

9am Breakfast & newspapers. Sometimes at Starbucks, sometimes at home. I prefer coffee at Starbucks but porridge is better at home although I do like their Swiss-style breakfast pot. Today I want to have my homemade pecan nut oatmeal with cinnamon so I cycle back home.

11am Back to gym again for a strength session. I'm different from the other heavy-users there but fit well in by now. I used to get these strange looks when I went to the men's side (that is the side of the gym with free weights and bars) and lifted my pathetic 15kg bar but now they seem to know that there is this odd distance runner girl who attempts to lift weights but actually forgets to put weights to her bar.

1-5pm Lunch, nap, stretching, mails, papers, housework, gingerbread baking etc.

6pm Back to gym again. It's third time I say hello to the girl at the front desk. It's time for spinning. Only a brief 30min class, works as a warm up. When the class ends and others get off their bikes to start with stretching I continue pedaling with two bald +40 blokes. They always stay for at least two classes in a row. Typical mamils (=middle-aged men in lycra). They used to have their expensive sport cars but nowadays they are actually sporty and go on two wheels.

7pm Another class of spinning starts and before I notice I've done 90mins of hills and intervals. I'm sweaty all over but a tough session easily done. Just do what you're told to do and it's done.

8pm There's pilates in the scheme but I already feel pretty tired. But I should do that, shouldn't I? It's really something I should be doing now. Phew okay I'll go...

9pm Dinner, stretching and flexibility exercises. I keep some ice in my foot while watching TV.

10pm I go to bed and read a few pages of The Hobbit before falling asleep. Next I'm dreaming of adventures in the Middle Earth...

It's tendinitis!

I've been silent for a month now because there hasn't been much to say. I've been struggling with a metatarsal injury and haven't been able to do much of training. It's been nasty and disturbing and it hasn't gone away even though I've given it a lot of rest and kept off from running. After three weeks of more or less constant pain I started to get worried about it (that is my doctor got worried about it) and went to see some experts. Sharp pain was localized primarily to the first metatarsal bone and it was sore when tapped. In other words an obvious stress fracture (which is really no wonder after running a marathon). There was also some joint irritation, general tightness and reduced flexibility in the foot but the pain in the first metatarsal remained even when flexibility was regained. So a little bit of this and that but clearly some bone damage too. This was the initial diagnosis but just to be sure I went to MRI. I've done it twice before when suspecting a stress fracture and both times it has proven right. But this time it surprised me by not showing any obvious inflammation in the bone, only beneath it (wohoo!). I know I've already announced otherwise but luckily it wasn't that simple. So after going first deep down in despair for a day or two the actual statement of the radiologist was a huge relief. My two previous stress fractures took months to recover so any injury other than a stress fracture is good news to me. It's not that the foot is any better (well, it is a bit better) but the fact that I'm actually able to do things and don't have to spend next 8-12 weeks solely in a swimming pool helps a lot. It looks like I can do the trip to New Zealand but running the World Cup races there remains to be seen.

                                              

                                              Bye bye and Merry Christmas to you all!

Maraton Divina Pastora Valencia

It's done now. My first ever road marathon (mountain marathons are in their own category). And with a decent time too! While reading Helen Palmer's blog about New York marathon about a year ago I got this stupid preoccupation in my head that I'd like to do one too. I was stupid enough to tell Helen about it and so it was soon decided that we would do Divina Pastora Marathon in Valencia. The decision was made long before Jungfrau and I couldn't back off from it even if I wanted to. For those of you who haven't done a marathon but dream about it, I can only tell that do it once but don't try to do it twice within a few months. It can be pretty overwhelming, both physically and emotionally.

After Jungfrau I was really fed up with all marathon training and everything around it. I had no interest in gathering any more tarmac miles and I wouldn't have trained anything if I hadn't got back to trails and saddle. I had a relatively easy marathon program attached to the fridge door but I think I skipped more than half of the trainings. My weekly mileage was everything between 0 and 50. I was just too bored to do any more marathon miles. Instead I did everything I found amusing (like riding my new road bike!) and managed to do only a couple of real marathon trainings. Pace runs are said to be important, so I did one, the Birmingham half marathon. It went quicker than planned but it was an excellent training and mimicked the last half of a marathon due to tired legs from a long ride on the day before. And long runs are equally essential, so I did one long run too. But that's about it. Naturally I had more on my belt from the summer when I trained for the Jungfrau.

So to the race day.. I was feeling humble and slightly horrified but also cheerful. Helen was wonderful company and made me smile. I think that's important. To feel good when you're about to race for 3h or more. Leave the worries behind and try to enjoy it. There are a couple of other things a novice should pay attention to: hydration and nutrition. Do your homework and do a drinking plan. That's quite important. I didn't have one in Jungfrau and suffered therefore more than needed. And train how to drink too. Find out how much you sweat per hour and train how to drink when running. It's not as easy as it sounds. At least for me it's one of the hardest things in marathon. To stay hydrated. It's not easy to drink when running fast if you haven't trained it. So in comparison to Jungfrau my training was shit but otherwise I was much better prepared.

1K - It was very crowded at the start. We were somewhere in the middle of the masses and the first kilometre was quite stressful with lots of accelerations and braking. My first lap was nearer to 5min and I was running together with the 4:30 pacer (4h30min finishing time).

2K - "Don't get stressed, just keep it relaxed" I kept saying to myself as I passed the 4:00 pacer. "Finish is at the end of the race, there's plenty of time, no need to hurry!

3K - I get a glimpse of the 3:45 pacer. At least the hours are right now. There's a bit more room and I can smile again.

5K - Someone shouts my name and I turn to look back. How did he know my name? Only then I remember that it stands on my bib number. It's fantastic to hear the crowds to shout your name.

9K - I am just passing a random runner when she suddenly yells "Hey you, you're English!" Is she talking to me? "Ehm...not really but I do live there" I answer. Weird, how can she know? "I knew it, I've seen you" she says and continues with chatting. I remember Helen saying something about focusing on your race and not to talk with all random English or Finnish runners you may meet. So I wish her good luck, lengthen my stride and leave her behind. Focus, focus..

10K - 42:37. A few minutes ahead of my target but slower than in Jungfrau. It should be good. I take my first sip of sports drink and feel great. Now it's more relaxed and I'm running with people with approximately same pace. It feels mentally great to run just a bit faster than the folks around me. Somewhere here I pass the 3:30 guy.

12K - We've just come to the old town and it looks brilliant. I ingest everything around me and give a high five to a few guys with stilts. Only then I remember Helen warning me about being too enthusiastic and going along with all hype and high fives. Oh no I've done it again (broken another of what-you-are-not-supposed-to-do-when-running-your-first-marathon rules).

15K - 1:04:01. I realize that it's going faster than planned. But I've taken it really easy and feel great. I know I'm supposed to run smart the first two thirds of the race but as far as it goes fast without effort it should be okay. I pass the 3:15 pacer and take my first gel. It's one of those that can be taken without water. It's easy to swallow and it even tastes good. Why didn't I take more of these??

20K - I hear lots of "MUY BIEN RIINA!" and "ANIMA ANIMA!". The last one sounds funny. I have no idea what it means but they keep yelling that a lot. I cannot help but smile every time I hear it. It sounds like "animal" and imagine being a cheetah..

21.1K - Half way in 1:30:00. Oh my, it's 5min too fast and I'm running at 3h pace! A thought of breaking 3h hits me but I try to ignore it. Not possible, don't even think about it! Far too early to start to race! Just keep it relaxed, enjoy the flow and don't start to race before the final 10K!

25K - I'm getting nervous just before the drink station. I'm supposed to swallow this highly concentrated sodium gel that I've picked at 20K. I'm very near to vomit but also quite determined to get it down into my throat. If I fail in this my run will certainly fail at the end. I have to pause for a second to get it down with some water but I succeed. Done, now I can enjoy the next 10K before taking another.

27K - I feel suddenly amazingly good. Music is loud and drums are even louder when we accelerate down towards a tunnel. I had no idea there was a tunnel but it's exciting. I think I experience a marathoner's high somewhere around 27-30K. How can it be this easy?

30K - 2:08:20. I try to do some calculations in my head. It feels I've kept the pace pretty well. How much time I have? Can I still do it? I give myself a few kilometres time to do the maths and a permission to try it when at 32K.

32K - 3h seems perfectly doable. My legs are getting tired but I decide to ignore it and push forward. I'm feeling a lot better than I ever imagined feeling at this phase.

35K - 2:30:09. Elasticity seems gone now and I need to work to keep the pace. This can be suicidal but 7k in half an hour seems fully possible. It's the pace I've been running the last 35k (well, I'm skilfully ignoring a few vital seconds and not quite sure how long the last kilometre is). I swallow another concentrated gel and start to wait for a miracle..

37K - Oh my god, my quads are really killing me now! They've stopped working and running gets complicated. My try to break 3h was totally suicidal. I hope I can run the rest of the race but I'm having my doubts now. It's only 5k left but it's awfully long without working quads. Keep running, this is nothing compared to Jungfrau! (and that's true!)

38K - My first kilometre that takes over 4:30. Pace is definitively dropping now and there's nothing I can do. A few girls who I passed some kilometres ago overtake me. One looks like an Ironman, other is very anorectic. I'm nothing like either of them. They both seem so professional.

40K - The longest kilometre of all. Reality strikes, I know I've missed the magical 3h. I see many runners around me who've missed it too. Many of them plod forward like they had nothing to give anymore. I force myself to continue.

41K - My slowest lap but still under 5min. Okay, I've missed it but it's still going way better than I ever thought. Only 1k to go. It's nothing! Run run run, it's almost over now!!

42K - I feel dead and my legs are in agony but suddenly I see the finish line just in front of me and feel better than ever. I increase my stride, pass the line, and fall into tears. I get very emotional. My finishing time is 3:03:21. I never thought I could run this fast this far! I've totally smashed my target (3:15) and I'm extremely satisfied but it still strikes me: Oh my god, I have to do it again. 3h was so near that I just need to try to break it.

Once you've done it you're hooked, they say, and I start to understand why...

My time and splits

Results overall

Second Round

On Sunday I ran my second round at Birmingham half marathon. It was very different from the last year's event in many aspects but an equally great experience. It's an awesome event and a race that I really love! Running and atmosphere can't get much better. And I like the distance too. It's long enough so that the pace you run is tolerable but short enough so that you won't get any of those problems you might face on a marathon. 

Last time I was running in the masses with runners in their funny costumes and it was really entertaining just to watch people running around you. This time I got a small number based on my last year's time and started with the elite by a gunshot. It was very different from last year. No pushing or elbows, just flowing along effortlessly. And somewhere after half a way it was so scattered that I was actually wishing to have more backs in front of me to shelter from the wind. What a strange thought.

I had been ill and hadn't thought of breaking my PB but to take it as a good training to test my intended marathon pace (4:20-4:30 per km). To assure that I would follow this plan and not to run any faster I cycled 62km on the day before, which was definitively a long ride for me since I haven't done much of cycling. So not really by the book how to prepare for a race... On the race morning I regretted doing the bike ride because I felt really tired and my legs were aching. I was wondering whether I could even keep up my intended marathon pace. However starting with the elite made it difficult to run slow enough and keep the intended pace in the beginning. After having run the first two kilometers easily under 4min/km pace along with the wave I started to think what a waste it would be to slow down and so I decided to run along and enjoy it as far as it would go. If I hit the wall or got too tired I could slow down whenever I wanted. Nice plan!

So I just ran it with a big smile on my face. I never pushed too hard or struggled, just enjoyed the flow. After 10km (40:43) I could feel my legs getting a bit tired, but by keeping my running as relaxed as possible and avoiding to run too fast, I was able to enjoy it up to 17km. Then came the final climb, which felt pretty awful, but it was so near to the finish that after the ascent I could maintain the pace the final few miles. What an awesome feeling it was to reach the finish line with a new PB (1:26:55) after some lousy weeks and such a poor preparation! I was amazed!!! Results

Feet in the Clouds

It's not my line, I've taken it from Richard Askwith. But it fits well in the subject. After physical and mental recovery from Jungfrau I've had some great time on the British fells, spiced with this inspiring tale about fell running and obsession by Askwith (thanks to Tessa Hill who gave me the book). Everyone who's new on the fells should read it to get some comprehension of the history of this sport. 

A week ago Compass Sport Cup Final, that is British Clubs Orienteering Championships, was held in Teviothead in the Scottish Borders. On my way there I made a stop at Haweswater in the Lake District and went for a long run on the fells in stunning sceneries. I climbed first to Adam Seat, continued the ridge to Harter Fell, then down to Nan Bield Pass, up to Mardale Bell and further to High Street and High Raise, before heading down to the lake again along Kidsty Pike. The weather was windy but fairly clear and I could have spent a whole day on those hills if there hadn't been a race on the following day.

Next day the sunshine was gone and the weather did its best  to keep everyone away from the fells. Only sensible thing to do was to stay home but reckless orienteers went out and confronted the horizontal rain and gale force winds on open moorlands to score points for their clubs. 

Beginning of the course was worst because not only you had to beat the winds but you also needed to ascend 60m on soft marshy ground on the way to 2nd and 3rd controls. My legs felt tired from previous day's long run and I really had to fight to get anywhere. But then it gradually started to ease up and on my way to #5 I noticed that I could keep up the speed despite the climb and the wind. From #7 onwards it was more downhill and I felt like flying. I was determined to orienteer well and had almost a clean run with only a few 10sec bends on controls 7 and 11. When I passed the spectator control (#13) I heard I was in the lead and got some extra kick for the remaining legs and clocked fastest splits on them all. My first real victory here! OD came 4th in the club championship. Results Compass Sport Cup Final

A week later I found myself on the fells again, this time it was my first ever fell race in Britain: Coniston 15km trail race. It's one of the scenic trail races held in the iconic landscape of the Lake District. The course goes along bridle ways and footpaths and climbs only half way up the surrounding peaks (only 400m ascend). It was supposed be an easy start to fells.

It had been raining heavily but the race day was bright and sunny and the atmosphere was great. We gathered to the start and I felt excited. I look curiously around to see what people are wearing. Shorts and tops, of course. I'm happy I changed my long sleeve to t-shirt on the last minute. Old experienced fell runners have Walshes, younger pros are wearing light Inov-8 race shoes, newcomers who've read the instructions have some form of trail trainers and only a few lost road runners wear flat racers. After careful consideration I've chosen to wear Asics Fuji Racers.

The speaker introduces a Japanese runner, an expected winner, and gives some instructions before we start. First kilometer goes through the village and then starts the climb and we're on the trails. There's 100m ascend on the next kilometer and trail starts to get smaller and smaller. I've had an easy start and feel good. Path turns into a small rough mountain path and I catch a bunch of runners. However passing them in a narrow path is difficult. After 4km comes a section that has been described as "runnable only to agile mountain goats". I'm happy to see that I'm one them. I can fairly easily hop from stone to stone upwards while water runs downwards under my feet and between the stones. I gain several places. After a while we reach a runnable plateau (in the picture) and can properly admire the iconic scenery for a while before heading downwards.

 At the first descent I understand that descending on this scramble is not any easier than ascending, rather the opposite. I'm happy with my shoe choice. 6km and another climb ahead. I almost reach the girl on the second spot before the course turns downwards again after 8km. Rest was supposed to be easy but the next few kilometres are the most demanding part for me. Running downhill is usually easy but paths so rough and stony need 100% attention. High speed makes it much more challenging than running in terrain while orienteering. I've got the course map in my hand but there's no chance of reading it while dashing downwards. I have to watch out each step and there's barely enough time to make decision where to place your next step. One bad judgment and you're out of the game.. Those are long miles down and a few guys pass me. When we reach the 10km mark I know the worst is over. Rest of it would be nice and easy gently undulating paths and pastures.

We cross a marsh that looks like a muddy lake. I go slightly around but still wade in knee-high mud. Here O-shoes would be a better choice. A few more pastures and gates, then comes a marshal who warns about extremely sticky descent. Sticky it is, and after the mud comes streaming water and some more loose stones. It feels like running in a river. Finally we get down to the lake and the final spurt can begin. I'm feeling quite alright but notice that my legs are nearly empty after such a rough descent. This was supposed to be a nice introduction to British fells and it's taken all out. Somehow I manage to push the final kilometres and finish 5min ahead of my time goal in respectable third place (21th overall). Not a bad start to fell running. So I'm aiming at highs again!

Coniston 15km results 

Party time!

Last few weeks I've been feeling like Bradley Wiggins after Athens Olympics - without his success though. Just lounging, relaxing, drinking & partying and not training. What an awful life! I can't remember having such an off period for a long time (and in contrast to Wiggo I'm not intending to go on for months). I've been off from training before but I've always tried to live otherwise like an athlete during that time. And I've never partied several days in a row. But that's what traditional old-fashioned academic promotions are all about. You have to be able to stand in high heels three days in a row with barely any sleep and go through dignified festivities that in some point turn into less dignified celebration that goes on until dawn. And next day you should be fresh and ready for sailing! It's hard. But certainly an experience of its own class and a lot of fun too! However, I feel much better if I get my 8h sleep, two trainings a day, and regular meals.

O-reunion. What do these doctors have in common?
Blue dresses, yes, but they are also Venla-winners.

So in order to feel "normal" (however you define that) again, we took a car and drove to Vuokatti for a short training camp in next year's WOC terrains. I even managed to persuade Sami to come with me, which totally saved the day. Driving there alone (6-7h) would have killed me and we also got some nice quality time together (not everyone counts running in the woods with a map quality time but it's seldom we get to travel together, so we enjoyed it). We stayed there only three days but I was able to put together some proper technical training and get a good overview of the terrain type. Thanks to Eva Jurenikova and her comprehensive map archive I could make pretty good plans where to train in advance and make a list of trainings I wanted to do. I could even do some post-training route choice analyses by comparing my routes and times with Eva's. Almost like I'd had a training partner there.

Team mates & Tiomila-winners 2011
(photo by Janne Märkälä)

I had heard numerous praises about the long distance terrain type before we got there but I was still surprised how well the terrain matched its high expectations. I was stunned. It was totally awesome! I was pretty tired when we got there but still felt like flying when running in those terrains. Autumn colors, blueberries, and lingonberries made it even more beautiful. Middle distance terrain in contrast was said to be rough, stony and challenging but I fell in love with that terrain too as soon as I got there. I don't know if it was because of my low expectations, tracks or my state of mind but for me it really felt like a moss-covered fairytale forest. I was happily surprised how easy it was to run in.

Promotion sailing (and a typical autumn day?)

One of the highlights in staying at Vuokatti sport centre (in addition to great meals) was sauna and dips into lake in the evenings. What a great place and just what my Finnish blood longed for! Only downside was/is the distance from Helsinki. Can't anyone drag it any nearer? 

Post-training chilling, Vuokatti

Jungfrau marathon

Eiger, Mönch, Jungfrau

Jungfrau marathon celebrated its 20th anniversary this year and gathered together 8000 competitors from 70 countries. What made it special this time was that it was also the World Championships in Long Distance Mountain Running. This assured that the best of the best were there. I got to run for Finland there, which I later regretted. Run starts from 500m in Interlaken, climbs up to 2200m at Eigergletscher and descends then the final kilometre to the finish at Kleine Scheidegg. 42km long course contains altogether 1829m climb with the steepest climb from the valley of Lauterbrunnen up to Wengen. From Wengen there is still 12km to go with 1km climb. The final climb from Wixi to Eigergletscher goes along a moraine with a magnificent view over Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau. It is said to be one of the prettiest and toughest marathons in the world.

Arrival to Interlaken

A Czech elite orienteer Monika Topinkova was the one who suggested that we would do it together. At the same time some of my orienteering friends in Britain recommended the very same thing. I suspected that it was perhaps some kind of conspiracy to eliminate one of the Finnish orienteers. But soon I learned that mountain marathons were something that British and European elite orienteers did. And were good at too. I also learned that fell running and mountaineering are popular sports elsewhere in Europe, they just haven't reached Finland yet. The lack of mountains may explain something.

Start the day before the race

I hadn’t run either a marathon or a fell race before but once I found about Jungfrau I decided to go for it (how mad was that?). I had no idea how to prepare for it but luckily there was plenty of help available when I dared to ask. Big thanks to all of you involved! Monika swore to Lore of Running and Bob Williams training program. It was my base too but I felt I needed some additional strength training and hill work (which I strongly misjudged anyway and did far too little). I also got valuable advice from Swiss top orienteers Simone Niggli and Marc Lauenstein who both have finished in top three on this marathon. British orienteers and fell runners Oli Johnson, Murray Strain, Tessa Hill, and Ray Ward also helped me with preparations. Oli gave me valuable advice and convinced me I could do it, Murray went and spied the route in advance, Tessa accompanied me on one of the vital preparation runs in the Lakes, and Ray provided me a ruthless description of the race as it is. It was important to stop dreaming and know the truth. But did I realize it? No I did not. The truth hit me first after Lauterbrunnen.

 

The first 10km of the course was on flat around the village. I placed myself a few rows behind other elite runners at the start to avoid starting too fast. I just tried to find a comfortable rhythm and ran my own pace as relaxed as possible. I ran the first 10km in 41min, a bit faster than I had planned but it felt slow and easy. I stopped for a drink and continued. Guys I had been running with (one with a name Juergen and a green Asics guy) were quicker with drinking but I reached them again in next ascend. Number 74 was there too (one of the elite girls I kept on seeing). First half of the race is said to be flat but actually there is a 250m climb to Lauterbrunnen, which is considered far from flat around Birmingham. Anyway, next few kilometres were ascending so I slowed down a bit and lapped some 4:30-5:00 kilometres. Others did the same. We followed the river in the valley and there was a refreshing breeze from the water. I was enjoying the run.

Lauterbrunnen

15km lap was still a few minutes ahead of my schedule even though I had dropped the pace a little. From there onwards it was undulating gravel road and very nice to run. Now I was running together with one of my room mates, a British fell runner Anna Lupton, still chatting comfortably. I was a bit surprised she wasn't running any faster but didn't dare to ask why. Afterwards I found out that she always takes it easy at the beginning and is a world-class climber (she was 4th at the final climb and I lost over 30min to her on the last 16km).

I reach the half way mark in 1h34min, still a minute ahead of my schedule, feeling fresh and great. Speaker says my name and country and I get a lot of cheering. "HOPHOP, HYVA SUOMI, YKSI-KAKSI-KOLME, GO ON FINLAND". I smile and enjoy every moment of it. There are a few Finnish spectators too. I have now idea who they are. Anna is now about a minute ahead of me and I see only a glimpse of her every now and then. Number 74 is just a few steps ahead. I've been running with her, Juergen and the green Asics guy pretty much same pace for 1,5 hours now. This seems to be a good gang to run with I think when I pick up the first two gels. I am planning to take one of them just before the steep climb and have the other one for reserve on the way up. Still feeling good and ready for the climb. Just bring it on!

Another way of going up

We reach the 25,5km point where the steep zigzagging climb up to Wengen starts (about 500m climb on 2km). 1h50min, I'm right in time. There are lots of people cheering when we start climbing before the road turns into a hiking path and goes into woods. I feel stiffening in my calves and the increasing gradient doesn't help much. Number 74 is pushing now and I let her go focusing on my own run. I try to keep running as easy and economic as possible taking only small steps. It feels like I'm not going forward at all and my calves are hurting more and more. "Just keep it relaxed" I say to myself imagining that running is better than walking. However, when the first walker comes and passes me I change to walking myself too. It feels great and I can keep up with the guy who just passed me. For a while it feels better to work with legs instead of calves. A few skinny mountain runners pass me but I don't care. They seem to weight around 40kg, so it's no wonder that they fly so lightly.

Eigergletscher

The climb is massive and it gradually starts to wear me out. I had certainly underestimated it. It takes ages to reach the next kilometre and I start to understand the brutality of it. My calves hurt, my legs hurt, my back hurts. Pain is everywhere and the climb doesn't seem to end. My back is really bad, it has never hurt so much during a run. I take a few longer leaps to reach the top sooner but it's a huge mistake. On one turn my leap is too long and my right quad cramps. A few steps later my left quad cramps too. Both quads are cramping when I reach the hilltop at Wengen. I take another caffeinated gel and try to shake off the cramps. 29km in 2h33min, still almost in schedule. If I just get these blocks of wood (that is my legs) to work again I can still make it to 4h.

I continue but my quads are getting worse and worse, now they are just cramping continuously. I see signs for massage and feel tempted to go there. But I still feel too ambitious to stop (only afterwards I realize that I could have saved up to 10-15 minutes if I had stopped there for 5min massage). I am determined to continue even if my legs protest. Brain seems to have lost contact to legs no matter what I do. Quads just stop to co-operate and I feel totally helpless. I have never experienced anything like that before. I thought I had strong quads but they're out of the game now. After a while I'm forced to stop and try to shake and massage my legs. I see a few other elite runners by the side of the road, unable to continue. I want to continue but it seems impossible. Somehow I manage to plod forward to Cafe Oberland (32,5km) where I grab a few energy gels provided with extra portion of sodium. My last hope is that salts could help my cramping muscles and I would be able to continue. It is a long shot but believe in placebo effect and manage to trick my brain and legs for a while.

A few more steps

Route from Cafe Oberland to Wixi is nice and fairly runnable stretch on gravel road with bearable amount of climbing but my legs protest to run with me. My way of moving is hard to describe but it's something between walking and jogging, like trying to run with straight legs without lifting your knees. It must have looked awful. Mostly I am just overtaken by other runners but to my big surprise I suddenly catch an Ethiopian girl and pass her! She was one of the two Ethiopians who were running in the leading pack the first half of the race nearly 10 minutes faster than me. They were among the favourites but now she is even more knackered than me. I am delighted to realize that I'm not the only one knocked down by the climb. The other Ethiopian, who was 3rd at 21km, managed to get up to Wengen but spent then nearly as long as I for the last 10km (and that's a lot). With that little mental booze I get myself to Wixi (38km), almost 10min slower than I had hoped. But I'm not thinking about the time anymore. I'm already out of the game, I just need to find a way to get up the final climb somehow.

Finishers

So only 4km left but still awfully far from the finish. I take my second salty gel and I start to feel queasy. I am near vomiting but manage to keep it inside. I remember Marc telling that nausea and vomiting are just normal, part of the game. But did he say something about cramps? I can't remember. I was prepared to feel really bad and struggle but I hadn't thought that my legs would let me down this way. Climb up to Eigergletscher (2205m) at 41km is definitively the worst part of the course. It includes about 350m ascent on 2km. Small rocky alpine path gets smaller and rougher the higher up we get. Normally I would love this kind of path but now I just couldn't hate it more. The final climb is just pure agony and I have to stop several times and let other runners pass. I'm surprised to see still other elite runners. I had thought they were long gone but they keep storming pass me on the final climb. Once I look up to the highest point and immediately regret it. It just seems too much to my legs and I'm very near quitting. Random dog walkers seem to go faster than me and my lap on the final ascending kilometre is 16:50. Could it go any slower? The final kilometre to the finish is downhill but it doesn't help me much. I cannot run and several runners pass me even on this last descent to finish. I reach the finish line in tears and swear not to run a mountain race ever again. Monika comes a while later and shares the feeling with me. She had had a bad day too with a cramping tummy.

Kleine Scheidegg

My room mates Anna (10th) and Jo (18th), both experienced mountain runners, tried to cheer me up saying that your first marathon/mountain race is always a challenge and it seldom goes as you hope and that I should be proud of myself. After a while I start to understand how right they are but it's still hard not to feel disappointed and frustrated after being forced to walk far before feeling tired enough to do so. Maybe 4h time target was too ambitious but I really feel that I could have gone near that if my legs had let me try. Number 74 who I ran with the first 25km had a solid race and finished in 4h4min. My positions on the other hand dropped dramatically from Wengen onwards. It's hard to say if I had been able to finish stronger if I had started slower but I guess the climb had knocked me down any way at some point. I should have run much more hills. Long hills.

If I forgot to mention, the route was pretty and the views were stunning. But you can get there by train too.

Results

London Olympics

Is there anything better than home Olympics? I doubt. British athletes who competed in the Games would probably agree with me. As well as people who took part to it in one way or another. Many were involved as volunteers whereas others just picked the cherries and enjoyed the best of it as spectators.

I was barely excited about the Games before it all began but I had no idea how overwhelming it would get. I remember dad telling me how big it was 1952 when Helsinki hosted the Summer Games but the world has changed a lot from those days. I've never been to Olympics before and had no idea that it would be such a big thing. But based on my 16 days' empiric research it seems to engross the whole organizing nation. For the past two weeks everyone lived the same big dream and there wasn't much else in the world than the Games. I was lucky to experience it so near. 

I got my first glimpse of what it would be already a month ago when the torch came into town. For me it is quite normal to get up 7am on Sunday morning for a morning run but I was surprised to see thousands of people on the streets an hour before the torch came. They had their portable chairs, coffees, thermos, flags, and team GB t-shirts and they had occupied the streets. It was then I started to realize that it was going be something extraordinary. 

Opening ceremony was a spectacle per se. Even the Queen herself took part to it after James Bond went and picked her up with a helicopter. Only after the opening the nation came properly into life and on the following day everyone was ready to cheer Mark Cavendish to victory in the men's cycling road race. Instead it was a Kazakh Alexandr Vinokourov who stunned the crowd and took the gold. It appeared to be the first and only setback for the home nation. After that nearly every athlete came up to their maximum and only the colour of the medal brought up some tears to a few individual athletes. But as a whole the team GB shone and the favourites kept their expectations. 

You may see me as antipatriotic as I'm admiring the host nation's success. But it's not that, it's just living the beat and the atmosphere around you. As much as I wanted to see my compatriots to take medals I couldn't help admiring British athletes to come and smash the Games despite huge pressure. Instead of breaking down under the pressure they just seemed to break their PBs. That's surely admirable. I was proud of the Finnish success in sailing and jumped up and down of joy when the medals were clear in women's RS-X and Elliott. In javelin we could have taken all three medals on a good day. Instead a nobody from a small Caribbean island came and threw himself to the world map. 

One of the highlights was to see Mo Farah taking the long distance double and joining the prestigious club of previous double champions Hannes Kolehmainen, Emil Zatopek, Vladimir Kuts, Lasse Viren, Miruts Yifter and Kenenisa Bekele. I also admired Tirunesh Dibaba's outstanding sprint on women's 10,000m and Stephen Kiprotich's strike on the last kilometres of men's marathon after struggling and being left behind. Out of nowhere he produced a phenomenal spurt and pulled away his rivals against all odds.

But the Games wasn't just about Bradley Wiggins winning the time trial and his seventh Olympic medal, Sir Chris Hoy winning his fifth and sixth Olympic gold, Ben Ainslie winning his fourth gold and fifth medal in his fifth Games, Andy Murray beating the unbeatable Roger Federer at Wimbledon or Jess Ennis, Greg Rutherford and Mo Farah claiming gold on the same sensational evening in front of 80,000 spectators at the Olympic stadium. It wasn't just about Usain Bolt, making history, or striking world records. It was it all. The whole spirit and atmosphere around it. Excitement and emotions. Tears and joy. Frustration and failure. Triumph and glory. Thousands of people sharing a moment and a friendly marshal smiling and wishing you good morning in a morning rush. 

Croeso

Croeso in other words Welsh 6 days orienteering week was a perfect way to spend holiday, enjoy wonderful scenes, get sunburn (yes quite unbelievable but true), dip into refreshing seawater, and get some quality training and hill work for free in stunning landscape just by taking part.

Four of the six days were on open moorlands on scenic hillsides and the maps were more or less just yellow interspersed by small lakes here and there. It basically tells you all about it. Some of the hillsides were rough and included numerous rock and contour details, offering thus great technical challenge despite the visibility. Had it been foggier, it would certainly have been even more challenging but unfortunately we were totally spoiled with great clear weather every single day.

First day in Gwanas was terrific and maybe the most difficult one. Especially when still full of energy and with light legs it was so easy to run too fast to keep yourself on the map. I just enjoyed rushing forward so much that I forgot to read the map and got totally lost on a few longer legs. So I got a few kilometres extra running but I didn't mind. Perfect training anyway! Second day in Foel Goch reminded the first one but it was more runnable. I had learned my lesson and didn't waste any time on mistakes.

Third day in Hafod forest was the first and only day in forest. Courses went on steep hillsides on both sides of the river Ystwyth. It was totally different from the preceding two days. It reminded of old good short distance races in a way that there were only very short legs with lots of turns. 23 controls on 3,7km course was a lot of fun and you really had to focus 100% all the way through.

Fourth and fifth days were both in Llynnoedd Teifi but it was such a great area that there was enough to see for two days. I thought I had adapted well to the mountain orienteering by then and as I had no problems picking the controls I just concentrated on enjoying running in the picturesque scene. The course of the day 4 looked quite straight forward to me and only afterwards I noticed that I could have avoided some 100m extra climb. Well, better training for the Jungfrau, I thought. On the fifth day I went more around along contours and had overall better flow but took again bad route choice on the long leg, losing a few minutes there. 

Last stage was an urban event in Aberystwyth. After five days of climbing in rough marshy terrains it was nice variation to get to run on hard surface. I wasn't so amused by the first part of it in brambly forest but the urban part of the course was great indeed and a lot of fun. Overall an awesome O-week!