It became increasingly apparent as I picked through the wreckage in the aftermath of my DNF at The Spine Race www.thespinerace.com in January 2014 that while mine is most of the time, there have also been regular occasions when it just isn’t. This realization has been abit humbling as I thought I’d got this thing nailed – and hey, aren’t I supposed to be some kinda expert here?

Four other things have happened since then to shake this cozily constructed belief:

As I’ve written about previously the short version on my Spine Race fun and games was that I simply did not eat and drink enough to do the relentless forward motion bit and keep warm. The solution is to eat more pies and wear a thicker cardigan. But it’s the bit before that that’s the key:

How on earth did I  - an experienced and informed participant who had a clear and compelling goal to finish the damn thing – allow myself to get into that state?

The key to arriving at any valuable answer is to ask the right question in the first place – and that means rising above the usual What Went Well? What Went Wrong?

So I came up with something else* that revealed the real culprit for the first time:

SHORT TERM THINKING CAUSED BY UNCHECKED COMPETITIVE TENDENCIES

Something that apparently I’ve been honing all my life:

‘Andrew’ noted a junior school report from the 1970’s ‘likes a challenge.’

So much so that on occasion everything else goes out the window. I can become consumed in the thrill of the chase, the tactical micro-battles, and the joy of moving as well as I can through the landscape. Even when I’m well into a downward spiral I know can do bloody-minded and get to an interim check – though the cost can be great and sometimes terminal. There were two significant occasions – that’s right only two - in my Spine Race where short term thinking became the basis for my decisions – and I paid for them both in the end.

Reading other race reports from The Spine it quickly became clear that one thing I wasn’t doing that many other folks were – race winner Pavel probably another exception – was stopping to eat at pubs and cafes along the route. Even the kids in the schools part of the project thought that was abit daft. Except to me it’s a race – and I don’t stop at pubs when I’m racing – ‘cos it’s a race! If that stays the same then I only have one alternative: Carry more – and accept all the implications that brings with it.

The book writing forced me to see this trend going back years:

Then there’s the flip side of being conditioned enough for this ultra game so that you’re running a diesel engine that gives you lotsa miles for very little intake: The early warning signals are hidden and you are well practiced at being frugal.

‘So how much fluid are you all taking in an hour?’ asks Sarah Garton recently.

There’s a pause as adventure racing teamies Joe Faulkner, Jill Eccleston and Sharon Mcdonald and I look searchingly at eachother, do the maths and come up with very little. Sarah fills in the gap:

‘About 800ml?’

Er, no Sarah. That would do each of us for at least half a day on the hill actually…

Ah.

Herein lies another part of the problem: Focusing on becoming more fuel-efficient by steadily reducing the amount we eat and drink in certain training sessions has meant that when the energy requirements go up (e.g. when racing / in cold/changeable weather and if we are solo for long periods) our habits lag behind. That’s right: We have become less used to eating and drinking frequently – which is what we were doing when we first started this ultra game! Remember those first races? A glorified picnic punctuated by bits of running and walking.