Fernando de Noronha

Does that look like a beautiful beach with just one pair of footprints? Well yes it does and guess who those footprints belong to. Of course, they’re mine. I was enjoying one of the most transcendental experiences of my life. A whole, incredibly beautiful beach and it’s all mine. Actually no, my friend and commercial agent for Latin America, Paul, is lying like a bloated whale on another part of the beach and if I look right up to the other end I can just about make out two or three other people.
This is Praia do Americano on the Brazilian island of Fernando de Noronha. We had just spent three days working in the Brazilian city of Recife and had decided to spend the weekend on this beautiful island about 350 kilometres from the coast. Actually you can’t just decide – you have to book some time in advance as there are only two flights a day. Just as well considering that the island itself is only 10 kilometres long and 3,5 kilometres at its maximum width (total area 18km2). The total population, excluding tourists is 2,000 people. The island is a protectorate of UNESCO due to its unique flora, fauna and geology.
The island was first discovered in 1501 by a Portuguese explorere Fernao de Noronha but has changed hands numerous times in it’s history. From 1534 to 1556 it was under English control, 1556 to 1612 French. There was a Dutch invasion in 1628, followed by a Spanish – Portuguese one just two years later. The Dutch again in 1635 and twenty years later in 1655 back came the Portuguese. It was later left disinhabited until re-discovered by the French East Indies Company in 1736. In 1737 the portuguese decided that they had had enough- kicked out the French and built ten forts around the island – ten forts in no more than 25 kilometres of coastline!! – they certainly weren’t taking any chances. Since then the island has remained as part of the Brazilian territories, first under Portuguese rule and later as part of the Republic. During world war 2 it was transformed into a penal settlement for both political and normal prisoners. Since 1988 it is no longer a settlement and has become part of the Brazilian state of Pernambuco.
Arriving on an island is always a mystical experience for me and this was no exception. An hours flight over the Atlantic and then suddenly this miniscule island is below you. The plane banks steeply to the left, straightens up and points directly towards the only flat part of the island in between two hilly areas. Engines roaring and echoing against the slopes of the hills and without any fuss the plane is rolling along the runway. After having paid our $22 a day tourist tax (quite right – UNESCO has to get its money from somewhere) we grab our bags and take the first pick-up truck directed towards our Pousada. Half an hour later we are sitting on a veranda enjoying the sunset and a well deserved caipirinha.
The next morning we went down to the port of Santo Antonio nice and early as we had been recommended to do and arranged for a morning boat trip. The view of the island from the sea was amazing and we took it all in as we chatted with the the captain who defined himself as the pirate – look at the picture and who can fault him.
The highlight of this boat trip was to see the dolphins. I was expecting to see them but as the captain slowed down the boat and they suddenly surfaced all around the boat I couldn’t believe it. Adults, pups, playful youngsters – whole families of dolphins surrounded us. We must have observed them for about five minutes but the best was to come. As the captain brought the speed of the boat back up to full power the largest of the dolphins raced under the bows of the boat, speeding from one side to the other as they strove to stay ahead of the vessel in a watery version of tag. What incredible creatures!
The afternoon was spent lounging on the beach of Praia do Americano, bathing and snorkelling in the warm sea, observing fish and even one sea tortoise.
To end a perfect day here is the sun as it descends into the Atlantic Ocean. Priceless!

Injury - Sciatica

So, you may be asking yourselves, why haven’t I talked about any recent races or, at least, some interesting training sesions. The reason is that I am suffering from that most feared of all situations for an endurance athlete – Injury!
Not just an injury that is going to keep me out of training for a week or two, but something that could keep me away from serious training for over a month, or even two. Considering that my plans for this year were to compete in at least two Olympic length triathlons between May and June, a 45k trail race in July and a 100K trail race at the end of August (this is also my ‘A’ race for 2009) it looks like my training is not getting off to a great start.
So what is the problem. This is the same problem that I have already had five years ago. The initial problem is a slipped disc in my back (actually two years ago they were two but it sems that this time round it is only one). If you don’t know what a slipped disc is here is a diagram which shows how part of the liquid contained between each of the vertebral discs squeezes out of it’s lodging. This is actually not such a large problem, but you see that wiggly bit that comes out of the spinal cord. That’s the sciatic nerve. This nerve extends all of the way down through the hip, continues through the thigh, knee, calf and eventually comes to rest in the foot, depending on which part of the spinal cord it started from. Now here’s the thing with the sciatic nerve – it really doesn’t like getting all mixed up and pushed around by this liquid from the disc and starts to get really annoyed. This general annoyance is communicated to the rest of the body by sending nerve pain signals straight down the leg. So depending which of the discs has this leakage problem the pain can arrive in the hip, as far as the thigh, down into the calf or even all the way to the foot. This can be seen more clearly in this diagram. Now, how did I get into this situation. Five years ago I managed to do it by running five marathons in the space of 12 months, the last of which was also extremely hilly (and I’m talking mountain hilly not gently rolling hilly). On that occasion I had liquid seeping out between my L4 and L5 and between my L5 and S1 and (if you refer to the diagram) this was causing me pain from my thigh to my foot. This time round I aggravated it by doing too much off-piste skiing with lot’s of far too athletic movements and jumps and god knows what else! This is not a recent photo but it gives you an idea of the kind of things I was doing.
Luckily (it seems) the slipped disc is only between L4 and L5 so I only have pain from my thigh through to my calf – let’s look on the bright side. The worst thing about this is that there is no actual cure. Rest – as in sitting around and lying down are no good because these positions actually aggravate the pain. Walking slowly is actually the least painful thing to do. But, of course, I cannot train as in running and cycling though the doctor says I can do some bland swimming – yeah like that is going to get me somewhere on race day. So I “rest”, take anti-inflammatory drugs and wait for the liquid to dry up and the nerve to calm down. After which it will be lots of physiotherapy work in a swimming pool, bland swimming and a slow return to serious training. Stay with me and see if I actually manage to compete in my ‘A’ race.

Yes, he's a skier!

I’ve done it. Finally this year I’ve managed to teach my six year old son to ski. First of all you have to know that my wife and I are avid skiers – I’d better clarify that – we don’t actually like skiing in ski areas with lifts and pistes etc. but we are crazy abour ski mountaineering(I’ll be doing some posts about this later on with some amazing photos). That’s the kind of skiing where you pick a mountain, walk up it with skis and climbing skins, enjoy the invariably incredible view on the way up and on the top, and then ski back down. All of this without seeing more than maybe ten people (though sometimes none at all) in the whole day. Now we use to able to do this every weekend for the whole winter season and through most of Spring – until of course when Elia arrived which kind of put paid to that kind of activity. So we’ve got big plans to get him doing the same thing in the future but first of all he has to learn to ski and to do that we need to use the ski areas with lifts and pistes and people etc.
So a couple of years ago when he was four and a half we decided to make the first attempt. We booked a week in a Family Hotel (specially organised hotels ideal for families) in Santa Cristina, Val Gardena which is in Northern Italy. The idea was for him to have lessons with a ski instrutor every morning and then, if he was still up to it, to do some skiing in the afternoon with us. The first morning we got him dressed, ski suit, helmet, goggles, boots. I know……………. doesn’t he look cute!
He’s looking less cute in this one because he’s realising that he’s about to be abandoned to the mercies of the ski instructors. I’m still trying to look confident.
When the bus arrived the crisis exploded. He definitely didn’t want to get on the bus, he didn’t want to ski, and he didn’t want to get separated from his parents. I ended up putting him into the bus in what probably looked like an All Blacks scrumming practice. We could still hear him shouting and crying as the bus drew away. We also drove up to the same ski area in the car but since the ski instructor had asked all of the parents to keep away from the school area we went to ski on the other side of the mountain but where we could still see the piste where they were having their lesson (we could also hear him (yes him, not them). He was not enjoying it. We went and picked him up at midday, as we had been instructed. “How was it?” – No answer , very non commital. We had some lunch and actually convinced him to do some more descents on the school piste during the afternoon. OK, maybe he is actually getting the hang of it. The next morning we experienced the exact same reaction – crisis, tears, howls – me bundling him into the bus like a Maori tight end. Not good. The rest of the day went like the first. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. The third day was an absolute refusal and we couldn’t face having to force him into the bus a third time. OK, we’ll go skiing together – who cares about the € 200 of ski lessons I had aleady paid for. So for the next three days we skiied in the morning – skiied!! We descended various easy pistes with Elia in tow – sometimes enjoying, sometimes complaining but invariably refusing to go beyond the morning. The afternoon was dedicated to other activities – the hotel’s organised play area for him, running and sauna for us. Though he did enjoy the tobogganing afternoon we organised. And so the week ended with very little progress having been made.
Last year passed by without any possibility to go skiing. As this year came round and it started snowing in early december we thought that it was the time to make it or break it. For a first try out we went to a local ski station (just over an hour away in the Appenine mountains) and spent most of the day together on the school piste, though we did convince him to do a couple of descents on a blue piste (any progress is to be taken with open arms). Then at the beginning of the year we decided to take four days holiday in the western Alps (Bardonecchia, Val di Susa) where we would be together with some other friends who have similarly aged kids. Well, let me tell you – it was a huge success! Four days of perfect skiing – let’s say about 5 hours a day and by the end of it all of the kids were flying down the red pistes and whistling while they did it. So much so that we never even got the chance to take any pictures. We followed that up with another day session at the local ski area and I can safely say that my son is now a skier. Now I’m not saying that he’s a champion, or he’s going to win any medals but we are definitely on our way and for the time being I’ll take anything I can get.
Now where can I find a small pair of mountaineering skis and boots???

One Year Ago (Part Two) (Dubai Marathon)

After leaving Hong Kong I spent some days in Beijing and Shanghai, and I have a photograph of Tienamen Square to prove it. By the way the square is absolutely huge so I couldn't exactly get a lot of it in the photo, but at least at one end you can see a picture of Mao in front of the entrance to the Eternal City.

From China I crossed back across south-east asia, over the Indian sub-continent to finally arrive in the Persian Gulf and more precisely in the bustling, business 24 hours a day city of Dubai. This photo shows the Burj Al Dubai construction, soon to be the tallest tower in the world.My reason for going to Dubai, apart from visiting a couple of clients was to compete in the Dubai marathon. For years I had been noticing that the marathon in Dubai was run every year somewhere betwen the 10th to the 20th January and had thought about competing but I had never had the chance to arrange one of my business trips around those dates. Finally the opportunity had presented itself and I had jumped at it.

The marathon itself is a small event with no more than 700 competitors, but there is a 10k race and a 3k funrace attached which bring in thousands of participants. Despite the size of the race it is a big payer. This year there was a 250,000 purse for the winner and an additional $ 1,000,000 (yes those are six zeroes) for anyone who could set a new marathon world record. Since Hailie Gebrelassie had just set a new world record in Berlin and was probably the only person who could beat that record they had invited him to participate and imported 4 Kenyan pacers to assist him.

Expecting long queues to pick up the race bag I arrived at the Marathon centre really early on the morning before the race. Number of people in my queue - one - me! Efficient? Of course, this is Dubai where everything moves at lightening pace - except the traffic. The race was due to start at 8 0'clock the next morning - even in January the midday temperatures can get over 20°c and so I guess they were doing us a favour. I was already at the marathon start area at 06.30. I know I like to get to races early but this was ridiculous. It was still dark which is great for taking a sureptitious pee in the bushes but lousy for finding the start line and above all for finding the bag drop off area. I latched on to a South African guy who seemed to know where he was going - he didn't and we got lost somewhere behind the grandstand area (how about that, they even had a grandstand for a marathon with less than 700 people).

Finally as the sun began to come up and the darkness faded away we found a group of volunteers who even had an urn of hot tea - a hot cuppa and the right directions - thanks guys!

While getting ready and leaving my bag in the drop off zone I chatted with a couple of Dutch guys who were aiming at 3 hours 15 minutes. Now if I could just follow them I might be in line for a new PB (presently standing at 3h 20' and a bit). So I lined up with them in the corral. A few minutes before the start Hailie and the other pro runners were brought up in front of us. I was surprised how friendly they all were - waving, smiling, acknowledging our applause and cheers. Bang - we were off. By the way that was almost the last I saw of Hailie and Co., except for a brief few seconds as they flashed past us on the way back while we were at about the 17 kilometre mark and they were already at 24k - wow I can't even sprint 100 metres at that pace and above all I can't do it while my feet don't touch the ground - well that's what it looked like. I hung with my Dutch friends for a while but after a few kilometres I had to let them go - I would die at their pace. I latched on to another runner who was nearby and we started turning over kilometres in 4' 30" / 4' 35". I found that that he was Polish but lived in Dubai. He was also aiming at 3h 15' but was going about it in a more sensible way.

After a few more kilometres my Dutch friends came up behind us - "how did you do that?". They had stopped for a pee and were now catching up. Off they went into the distance. The course is just one long road out and back with a few kilometres at the beginning and the end between that road and the park which is the start and finish area. On the way out it is quite nice with the Burj Al Arab hotel in the distance getting closer and closer telling you how close you are to the half way point. There were a number of people along the road who had come out to cheer us on but mostly it was pretty lonely except for the other runners. As I said before at about the 17k point we saw the first runners retuning and from then on it was a constant stream of runners going the other way. Then my Dutch friends caught us up again - another pee stop - they had drunk too much beer the night before. They disappeared again as we reached the turnaround just under the hotel. It was then I realised that we had been running with a light wind behind us - now we had it coming at us. I started to struggle and suggested to my Polish friend to leave me. Now it was everyman for himself. I don't remember much about the next fifteen kilometres except it seemed to go on forever - on the way out there had been the silhouette of the hotel to encourage us - on the way back there was nothing, just the long straight road in the distance. At about the thirtysixth kilometre one of my Dutch friends appeared again, shooting out of a side street where he had been answering another of nature's calls. His friend was still there but apparently suffering too much to keep us with us. We continued together till the road started to twist and turn it's way back towards the park. We were still on schedule for a 3h 20' so I started to push the pace and encourage my Dutch companion to do likewise. Unfortunately he couldn't accelerate and I had to leave him. In the last two kilometres I managed to overtake quite a few runners who were hurting even more than me - I didn't think that was possible. Finally I could see the finish arch and with a desperate last 200 metres crossed the line in 3h 22".

My Dutch friends arrived some minutes behind and we had our photo taken with our medals.

I was disappointed with my time since I had hoped to do a little better but arriving 97° out of over 650 and 12° in my age category was not too bad.

One year ago

A year ago almost exactly I made a work trip which became also a trail run . For reasons, far too complicated to mention, I had to visit Beijing and Shangahai. Unfortunately the Chinese Embasy in Italy, perhaps because it is in Italy and they've taken to laid back Italian ways, but maybe just because they don't like to make it easy to go to China takes like forever to get you a visa. Therefore I decided to pass through Hong Kong where it is possible to pick up a Chinese visa in 36 hours (easily arranged by the hotel)and where I could also visit one of my clients and therefore kill two birds with one stone so to speak. When I am in Hong Kong I always love to call up some friends, get together, have a meal, a glass, or two, or three of good wine. So I did call and Friday evening we did everything mentioned above. At the end of the evening Monica and her husband James asked me if I would like to go for a trek on saturday afternoon. Knowing that they are not really that sporty and rather doubting that there is any good trekking in Hong Kong I was kind of susprised but since I had nothing better to do I said yes. They picked me up at my hotel on Saturday afternoon and we drove off the island of Hong Kong and on to the mainland of Kowloon and then down the coast a bit to a place called Clearwater Bay and a small carpark. On one side was the sea and on the other what looked like a hill. The path lead upwards and so up we went till we reached the crest of the hill and this is the view.


I was pretty amazed to see such a view just twenty minutes from the centre of Hong Kong in one of the most densely populated areas of the world. Monica and James showed me the path we would be taking and seeing the lust in my eyes they suggested I take off and run around a bit, which I did and I ran till I reached the top of the hill which they had told me would be our turnaround point, and then ran back so that I could accompany them. On the top of the hill I got this other great view.





Later we went to a local fishing port where we had a great laidback chinese fish meal and I took this photo of some wierd looking crabs - no really - I know they look like trilobites of prehistoric times but they really are crabs - delicious too.

Short post to get us started

So, after having read so many blogs I've decided to try and start one of my own. The title of the blog is probably self explanatory to people who run trails or do triathlons - probably not so much to those who don't. I will try to keep a record of my training and competing in various trail running events and triathlons. I travel a lot for work and will probably try to post some articles about these travels and so I added also the word Travel in the title. I am also a mountaineer and skier so I guess some posts on this subject will also appear from time to time.