Heat Chamber #1

Today was the first of 3 planned sessions in Bangor Uni's heat chamber under the supervision of Adrian the student. After a quick greeting I was presented with my old friend the rectal thermometer. It was pleasing to see that this appeared to be a brand new one this time and not one that had been inserted in many previous rectums (rectae?). My nude body mass was measured at 77.7kg or 12st3lb in old money and then I re-dressed and entered the chamber.

 The plan was for 2 hours treadmill running at 10.1kph with the chamber set at 33degC and 30% humidity, which seemed fine by me. The only condition was from the good old risk assessment that if my core temperature went above 39.5 then I would have to be cooled down by minimising the exertion plus fans and water spray. Keeping my fluids topped up would also help.

I set off at the prescribed pace and, although the chamber was fairly warm and I was sweating a good deal, it never felt uncomfortable and the 10.1kph pace was more than fine. After 40 minutes however Adrian popped in to say that my core temperature was close to the maximum permitted and that he would have to switch the cooling fan on and lower the speed of the treadmill. This was compensated by an increase in gradient.

The cooling down period lasted for about 20 minutes and then it was back up to the 10.1kph. Another 30 minutes or so later the core again went back up the max. All this time I had never felt in any discomfort and was running quite freely but rules is rules. This time I coooled down in 15 mins and then went back to the run for the last 15mins.

All in all I felt this was a good session and I am looking forward to session number 2 tomorrow afternoon when I hope my body will be a little bit more attuned so that I can go longer before the necessity for cooling down. Good news was my water intake was not far off spot on. Having consumed 2 litres over the 2 hours, I had only dropped 0.3kg.

Training Update

As mentioned in the last post, a further opportunity presented itself for a 21 miler, which is now the last long run  I will do. My car was booked in for a service and MOT at Slaters in Llanwnda so I decided that whilst it was in I would fill the time with a run.

The planned course took me as steeply uphill as Saturday's run for a distance of about 3 miles before levelling out at around after the village of Rhosgadfan at around 300mtrs asl.


After stopping for a couple of minutes to admire the view I began the descent down to Waunfawr. From here a right turn took me to Rhyd Ddu then Nantlle, Pen Y Groes and then finally back to Llanwnda where my freshly MOTd car was waiting for me.


This really is one of the most pleasant runs I have been on as most of it is withing the boundaries of Snowdonia National Park, which is always pleasing to the eye whatever the weather. Today was a bonus as the sun shone for most of the route and the wind was kept to a minimum.


After the tough run on Saturday my shin really was griping when I'd finished. The good news is that it generally eases whilst I'm running so, as I said in the previous post, as long as I keep dosing on MTFU I will be fine in Morocco.


There are to be no more long runs now; that is it other than to keep the legs ticking over with some short 5kms every couple of days and the small matter of 3 acclimation sessions with Adrian at Bangor Uni. These will be in the heat chamber at 35ºC+ over 2hours each at 55% of my Vo2 Max, whatever that might be. I reckon it'll probably be around 9kph which is no more than a light jog so that should be fine. More to follow on how those went plus whatever snippets I think may be of interest.

Snow Patrol

After a week getting back into the swing of things at home and work I decided that there were to be 2 more big runs and then it was to be a period of winding down with the odd short run to keep the legs moving. The first of these was to be in the mountains on Sat 17th and then Tues 20th whilst my car was in for a service.

Left hand peak is RV1!

I set off from home at 06:10 on Saturday morning laden down with a 7kg pack mainly containing water and standard hill walking kit. Normally I would have driven to Abergwyngregyn, parked up and then gone straight up the hills but this time wanted to mix things up a bit so decided to run the 5 miles or so to a point and then turn right and south up the hills.

Had I looked at the map properly before setting out I would have been able to negotiate the footpaths to my right turn point but having decided that I couldn't be bothered I ended up running about a mile and a half along the A55! Fortunately traffic was not too heavy at that time in the morning so I didn't have to jump to the grass verge too often.

Shelter!!

The first part of the uphill climb was pretty steep, which was only alleviated by the fact that it was on tarmac.  This alleviation only lasted for about 1km however and then it was onto the serious business of grinding up the trails towards Carneddau. I quickly became very aware of a massive amount of thick, dark grey clouds, which with the prevalent wind direction were heading my way with a vengeance. I worked out that I may just make it to the mountain refuge hut at Foel Grach before the clouds dumped whatever contents they had all over me. My mental calculation was almost spot on but I was still caught up in a horizontal snow storm 200mtrs short of the hut.

Even after the 3 minutes or so that it took me to get into the hut, my sorely inadequate London Marathon ripstop jacket was drenched. This was immediately discarded and, after a quick dry off replaced by a fleece. I further warmed up with a couple of flask cups of tea and then, seeing that the snow seemed to have stopped, decided to set off back down the hill once more. I donned my Gore-Tex coat in case of further storms and tentatively made my way out of the hut.

God is back in His Heaven!!

The fear of more snow couldn't have been more unfounded as, a mere 20 minutes after setting off on the return journey, the sun well and truly had his hat back on again. With the words of Adrian, the masters student fresh in my mind, I decided to keep the fleece and Gore-Tex on to create a simulated acclimation experience.

I arrived home 21 tough miles and 6 hours later in a decent enough state although my right shin was smarting a bit and would not recover for a couple of days. It seems that I will now have no choice but have a daily dose of MTFU during the race but with 3 years of preparation behind me it's a price I'm willing to pay.

Riding on The Marrakech Express - Warm Weather Training in Morocco

I'd hoped to do daily updates whilst out in Morocco but I had browser issues with the various locations I'd used to connect so I was reduced to MkI biro to scribble notes as I went along and am now transcribing notes that are generally legible although some were written on the hotel balcony in half light so excuse me if things don't make sense from time to time.

This being a resume of 4 days away, the subject matter will shift from experiences of Marrakech itself, the Moroccan people, actual training (being the point of the trip) and the inadequacies of the DK guide to Marrakech that my little angels had bought me for my birthday.

First off a couple of truths that people may or may not choose to belive.
1. Steph has asked me to make it known that he carried on his alcohol abstention throughout the trip.
2. Although one of these was just round the corner from the hotel, I did not venture once through the portals. Not even for a peek at the menu!

DAY 1

All started well with a flight arriving 25 minutes ahead of schedule due to a hefty tail wind that helped blow us towards Morocco at a tasty 650MPH. Even the very slow process of getting through Moroccan passport control didn't slow us down too much as we were carrying hand luggage only.

We had tried to contact the hotel a couple of days previously to arrange a shuttle transfer but had no reply so we made our way to the taxi rank. We gave the gaggle of taxi persons the address and queried a price. "Vingt cinq" he said. "Pour deux" queried I. "Oui!" said he. So in we jumped. The arranger, as he turned out to be, said we must pay him in advance and not the driver. This was fine by us as there was no chance of us getting ripped off at the destination. Sitting in the back seat I started to count out 25Dh (Dirhams)."Non, non" he said excitedly "Vingt cinq Euros!" We immediately jumped out of the taxi saying something along the lines of "I'm afraid we won't be paying your price my good man!" Here ensued my first (and, as it transpired, only) effort at haggling. Not only was I haggling but I was doing it in French!! The DK guide had said that the price should be 30Dh per person but you can be charged up to 100Dh. I told the guy about the 30Dh reference, which for some reason amused him greatly. Ultimately we settled on 160Dh for the two of us, which on reflection seemed value of sorts. 

I await comments from avid blog readers that we were totally ripped off but the best was yet to come. The ride exposed us to Moroccan rules of the road, i.e., there aren't any. You pay a lot to get into Alton Towers for rides less thrilling than this and here we were getting it thrown in with the taxi fare. Bargain!!

We arrived at the hotel with all of our body parts still in tact and checked in to what was on first appearances a very clean and tidy hotel. I know now that some of you are anticipating horror stories to come but I'll stop you right in your tracks - it really was a nice, clean and tidy hotel with very friendly and courteous staff. So if you are planning a trip to Marrakech, you could do a great deal worse than Residence Assounfou, Rue El Imam Malik, just off  Place 16 Novembre.

Residence Assounfou

After a swift unpack, we headed out onto the street to find some grub. Being in the New Town and surrounded by a mall of chrome and glass, there were a few decent eateries. We eventually settled on the Queen Atlantic and had a pretty decent meal, although I'm ashamed to say that I got all touristy and went for the Chicken Tagine. It was darn tasty though! Biggest shock was that the small beer I had to accompany the meal was 2/3 the price of the food!

Following the restaurant we had a short stroll back to the hotel and then swiftly hit the sack.

DAY 2

Mosque Hasan II

We awoke at 08:00 after a decent enough sleep, which was punctuated by the local Muezzin bellowing out the call to prayer at Mosque Hasan II just down the road. Mosques are kitted out with PA systems these days so this was not a quiet affair.

As the hotel was room only, we headed down to one of the local mini marts to stock up on bread, cheese, yoghurt drinks, fruit juice, cakes and water for our brekkie. We returned to the room at set ourselves out on the balcony to enjoy the feast. During breakfast we had our first sight of a construction project across the road, which was to become an item of fascination for us over the next 3 days. By the time we arrived the project had already succeeded in an excavation of about 40 square metres surface and about 20 metres deep. There is obviously no Moroccan version of HSE as the working practices were almost comical. Towers had been erected, which could loosely be termed scaffolds and planks laid across these for working platforms.

Project Certain Death

 Following breakfast we donned our running kit, which was as near as dammit the kit we would wear in the Sahara, and set off on training run #1. A cursory map recce had determined the route; with the hotel being to the north of the city, it made sense that we should get out of town in that direction. The autoroute N7 headed towards Agadir and we reckoned that was good enough for us. After a number of twists and turns down this street and that but heading in a general NW direction we eventually hit the N7 and ploughed on. The roadside thermometers were already displaying 27ºC and it was still only 10:00!

After 3 miles or so we managed to get some evidence to back up my claim that all the accidents at work due to slips and trips were actually idiots hurting themselves by not looking where they were going. Yours truly was too busy being an idiot by looking around and not concentrating where he was going and consequently tripped over some raised concrete. A spectacular dive resulted in a bruised elbow (which is still sore as I type) I had a look in my first aid kit but could find nothing that cured shame!!

Athlete!! Atlas Mountains are in the background somewhere

We continued along the N7 without any further ado and decided on a turn around point after 12.5km. We paused for a drinks break and to take a couple of photos. We’d attempted to get the spectacular Atlas Mountains in the background but the glaring sunshine meant that these did not come out that well.

On the return to town we encountered a lot more locals than we had on the way out, many of them children who had been let out of school. Hence followed a lot of “bonjours” and the odd “Selaam” for the older ones, who appreciated this small gesture greatly. On entering the city, the roadside thermometers were now up to 35ºC and the large volume of traffic meant that throats became dry very quickly.

The number of twists and turns we had taken on the way out were unfortunately not engrained in our memories and it took the use of the ‘return to start’ facility on the Garmin to get us safely back to the hotel. In 2 days time we would discover that we could have gone straight on down Avenue Mohammed V to get to somewhere we recognised but for now we were still wide eyed innocents!!

Place Jemaa El Fna

After showers and a couple of hours rest we set off out for Place Jemaa El Fna, which had been touted by the guide book as the main place to go. After a diversion past the Koutoubia Mosque and a first visit to the cashpoint we arrived at Jemaa El Fna and our first real experience of the intensity of competing people with goods and services to sell. Monkey trainers, snake charmers, henna tattooists, story tellers, musicians, water sellers and even transvestite dancers all vying for your attention and more importantly your money. Sunglasses suddenly became as useful for avoiding eye contact as their usual function. One or two were quite insistent but most would back off after a shake of the hand and head and a “merci, non” or “laa se’haa”.

As we ventured further across the massive square we encountered the orange juice sellers. For a mere 8Dhs we were supplied with 2 large and very refreshing glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. Again there is great competition for your money from a number of these guys. Even as you are about to order from one, others are still shouting for you to change your mind and head over to them!!

The benefit of the orange juice became greater as we made our first foray into the Souks. This is a never ending warren of stalls selling all manner of goods and, without concentrating on which way you came in, you can quickly become disorientated. Again, the stall holders are all after your hard earned and, much as I fancied another go at haggling, there really wasn’t anything that caught my eye. Certainly nothing that I’d have managed to get home in my daysack!! Anyway, we didn’t concentrate, we did become disorientated and we did take an age to find our way out again!! Fortunately we managed it in daylight and set off towards the rapidly erecting food stalls for some tea.

A hearty meal for bugger all. Courtesy of stall  #97

The DK guide book had advertised the food stalls as an easy going stroll around the stalls, where you leisurely peruse the menus before settling on the meal of your choice. Not so. The chat men on these stalls were 3 times as intense as anything we had previously encountered. No sooner had you fought to within an inch of your life to free yourself from the attentions of one, than another was immediately upon you. We ultimately settled for the cheeky chat of stall #97 and sat ourselves down to dine. The food was both cheap and very tasty. 2 courses with bread, dips, dressed olives and drinks plus a glass of mint tea came to under £10 for the both of us!

With bellies full we set off at a leisurely pace back to the hotel. Before heading back to the room we decided to have a peek in an undercover alleyway, which was advertised as an artisan market. How pleased I was that we made this decision as I found the only shop thus far where I could purchase some beer. Being a Muslim country, this all had the feel of some undercover deal during prohibition as my cans of Heineken were stuffed into a carrier bag and I sneaked surreptitiously away having parted with 60Dhs for 4 cans. By no means cheap compared to Tesco prices at home but an absolute bargain compared to the single bottle the night before. With limited opportunities to purchase beer in any case, the value was further enhanced. I know that lots of you are now thinking that as I was on a training break, why was I guzzling ale. Well, as I had already turned the other cheek as far as my sausage and egg bagel breakfast was concerned, I was not giving up on another vice!!

The 4 cans were eagerly consumed between a chat session on the balcony whilst viewing progress of Project Certain Death and viewing of English language movies on The Action Channel.

With a full and enjoyable day behind us, we settled down to sleep at the more than decent hour of 22:00

DAY 3

Convenient hole!!

Day 3 pretty much followed the format of day 2 in respect of the Muezzin, breakfast and training, although we managed not to get as embarrassed navigationally as we had the previous day and the mercury settled in the thermometers at a far more manageable 33º! We encountered the same manner of friendly people along the way and were even surprised to find out that Moroccan sheep speak the same language as ours! Because we had gone a more straightforward route to N7 we were able to go a bit further down the road to the 12.5km turn round point. The only other change of any note was on the outbound journey we used the opposite side of the road and were greeted by a conveniently placed hole in a large concrete wall that allowed us access across the train tracks.

We enjoyed the same rest format as the previous day with the relaxation being punctuated by the arrival of a portakabin at Project CD! We were intrigued by the potential lifting plan based on what we had seen before and settled down on the balcony to watch the show. The cabin was eventually lowered into place by use of a forklift truck and a number of planks and chocks! The incessantly impatient Marrakech car drivers blaring on their horns whilst the forklift blocked the road and then immediately cutting past as soon as it moved its forks under the cabin. Once the entertainment was over we made our way back to Jemaa El Fna for more of the same even stopping for orange juice with the same guy and returning to stall #97 for our tea! We did vary our choice of meals but other than that it was turning into Groundhog Day but in a good way.

We again returned to the hotel via the underground beer seller where I treated myself to more Heineken. The Action Channel was showing GI Joe – Rise of the Cobra and I settled down to endure this as Steph decided he’d had enough for the day and hit the sack. After putting up with a pretty awful movie for about an hour during which time I’d fought to keep my eyes open and decided to get my own head down as it must be well past 22:00. As I found my watch I was amazed to see that it was only 20:50! As I still had another 2 Heinekens untouched I half turned back to the telly but then decided that enough was enough and settled down to sleep.

DAY 4

After confirming the previous evening that we didn't have to check out until midday, we decided to get another shorter run under our belts. Again we headed out on the Agadir road with the intention of doing around 10k. We dispensed with breakfast and set out at around 09:00 with the temperature already in the high 20s. After a couple of km and with me feeling pretty strong, I confirmed that Steph was OK jogging along on his own and upped the pace to sub 7min/mile turning round at approx 6.25 km before catching up with Steph again on the way back at the tops of Avenues Mohammed VI / V. We had a quick catch up and then I powered on for the 2k back to the hotel. Steph arrived back not too long after me so had obviously done some powering of his own.

We were back in the hotel with plenty of chilling time until the midday check out so we had a final view of Project CD, had showers using all of the towels that Steph had liberated from the housemaids the day before and generally chilled out until the last safe moment with me quaffing the leftover Heinekens from last night. Well I wasn't taking them with me and it was past 12:00 somewhere in the world!

We headed for reception to confirm that the shuttle bus was still booked for 18:00, checked out and set off out onto the streets to kill 6 hours.Steph's own thoughts plus a recommendation from Facebook was that we do our strolling in a brisk manner and claim the miles towards training. After having a chuckle it did seem a fair thing to do but I was still determined to amble rather than power walk!

Place Jemaa El Fna from Cafe De France
Kouroubia Mosque in the background

In any case by some calling of the Gods we eventually arrived back at Jemaa El Fnar (via the Cyber Park for a bit of shade). I'd read in the DK guide that the place to really capture the splendour of the square was from the balcony of the Cafe De France and for once the guide book didn't disappoint. As we made our way past a Maitre D' and up some very splendid mosaic staircases, I was starting to get the feeling that lunch was going to be an expensive affair. It certainly wasn't the cheapest we'd had but 2 decent mains - exquisite tasting brochettes for me - plus a decent Moroccan salad, bread and drinks came to £14. Excellent value for the quality of the grub plus the ambiance. With the walk to the square plus the meal, we managed to get a good 2 hours knocked off the killing time.

Mint Tea - classy and yummy

We proceeded to wander this way and that over the next few hours stopping for the occasional coffee and mint tea - a drink I'd grown to really enjoy during the short trip. We continued to be offered various goods and services including some of the local specialties, hashish and a 'massage',which we politely declined.

Eventually time was up and wandered back into the hotel lobby and, after a short rest, boarded the shuttle bus to the airport. The airport experience started out as any other until we got to the gate when, for some reason the gate queue started early. We got caught up in the enthusiasm for people to get out of their chairs and stand thinking that we would now be on our feet for a good while but, not so, the plane was here early, was cleared early and we all boarded early. The upshot being we left 30 minutes prior to the scheduled take off time, which had the obvious benefits when back in Blighty.

SUMMARY


Right at the start of this post I'd said that I'd be commenting on a few aspects of the trip. I hope that I've done that justice with the reams of ramblings above but just to summarise in a few words.

Marrakech is not a family destination but that should not take away the fact that it is an intoxicating place; and that was without sampling one of the local specialities. The driving standards, the noise and bustle of Jemaa El Fna, the smells from restaurants and cafes all combine to create an experience not gained in many places.

We found the people to be nothing but friendly and courteous. Those working the markets, taxi drivers and one or two others were exuberant in their approach but never overstepped the mark where you felt you had to be rude. Whilst out on our daily runs we received a few odd looks but also many waves and greetings with the odd words of encouragement from some.

The training environment more than exceeded our expectations. We's chosen Marrakech as it was reasonably cheap to get to and stay in and, being in Morocco, we felt we'd get an idea of the environment if not quite the heat. A spot of research said that average temperatures for the time of year were around 20ºC, which was certainly warmer than home but nowhere near MdS highs. So when we saw that the forecast was 27ºC for both of our main training days we were a tad more satisfied with our destination and then when we saw that it actually hit the highs of 35ºC we were chuffed to bits, especially as we both completed all 3 runs without any undue discomfort. We learned how much salt we would lose just by looking at our clothing after each day! We learned to drink little and often to maintain levels of hydration and had the opportunity to recover properly rather than the scenarios at home where we would complete a run and then be launched into other priorities. All in all I can safely say that we are now measurably more prepared for the start of the race.

Kit!!

Well here it is. 8.8kg of assorted gubbins which will be strapped to my back and front come 8th April. There's some stuff in there that I could probably do without to save a few grammes but as I'm not busting a gut for an elite placing any more I figure a couple of home comforts won't cause any harm. Top of that list is my MP3 player; my pack straps have developed an annoying squeak which potentially could drive me insane over the course of the week. Plus if I can't hear anyone I won't get involved in someone else's race and potentially push myself too hard a la Beacons Ultra. No offence guys but I'm running a solitary race. I'll be chatty as a chatty thing back in the bivouac so excuse me for any perceived ignorance on the course.

Anyhoo, the kit...

And here it is all packed away...

Very, very pleased with the fit of the packs and looking forward to a comfortable race.