So, you want to get hill fit. A (sort of) review of Training for the New Alpinism and Uphill Athlete

There's nothing better than walking uphill to get better at walking uphill!  But, what if you don't have access to hills and mountains, and is that really true?

The training for the new alpinism book

The training for the uphill athlete book

Traditionally, hillwalkers, mountaineers, alpinists and rock climbers have always looked upon training as cheating or something weird.  Competitive mountaineering only really existed in the Soviet Union and as indoor climbing walls began to open they were viewed with mixed feeling amongst the climbing community.

Mountain sports (or pastimes) have always been seen as a lifestyle rather than solely a sport or game to be played.  Those who practice them are often more integrated into a broader lifestyle or community than those who play other, more traditional sports, such as tennis or football.  They are seen as 'extreme' or 'unusual', and we therefore must be 'risk takers' and 'odd'!  To some extent this is true, in that they can have a higher level of risk attached to them, however, often it is that decision making to be able to avoid, reduce and accept the risks that draws many of us into the sports.  In our modern world, being able to take some control in an environment with real risks, is a rarity.

Training or just enjoying a day out ski touring?

As such, there are very few good books or articles written on the subject of training specifically for the mountains.  Most of our mountain training comes from pure practice of the sport itself, or adapted from athletics and other mainstream sports.  I have always had an interest in physiology and training, which hasn't always translated to being really fit and accomplishing my mountain goals; but it has resulted in years of reading and research.  On some of my first mountaineering trips I can remember asking myself how I could get more hill fit and psychologically prepared for these.

The first mountaineering training book?

The first book I came across, and one that is almost legend, is Extreme Alpinism, Climbing Light, Fast & High by Mark F. Twight and James Martin.  I can recall reading it over and over, dreaming of all of the adventures their training secrets could take me on.  And so it began, I would swim lengths of the pool for an hour or more at a time, because it was boring and so was walking on a trail or super long glacier, but at the same time it didn't impact my joints and I still had to retain enough focus to avoid breathing at the wrong moment.  At the local gym I would be the weird one who got on the step machine with a rucksack on for ages, and one of the few women who used the free weights - so much so, that one of the instructors that still works there recognises me ten years later if I visit when I'm visiting family in London!  I biked across London to work, went to the climbing wall for a few hours afterwards, and then biked home - barely able to hold onto the handlebars on occasion (the climbing wall was almost further away from home than work was!)

A few years later I moved to Snowdonia were I began to experiment with long days in the mountains, occasionally only eating before and after my exercise, my first foray into trying to understand what foods my body required, and how to become better at using fat stores.

Out on a long winter's day in Snowdonia

And then, a few years ago, Training for the New Alpinism arrived.  I had vaguely followed the Gym Jones youtube channel, and can remember preordering the book at work.  At the time, I was probably the only person in the centre excited about it.  Now, the majority of my colleagues have heard of Scott's Killer Core Workout, and quite a few of them own the book too.  In 2019, a follow up book, Training for the Uphill Athlete, a manual for mountain runners and ski mountaineers by Steve House, Scott Johnson and Kilian Jornet arrived.

Running on Snowdon (actually, power walking and running!)

As with most training books, there is a lot of information, and it is nearly impossible to read and retain it in one sitting.  Throughout the manuals there are stories from famous mountain athletes about times their training did or didn't go well and the results.  This is a cool reminder of the fact that they are human too, and it's not always bad weather than forces you to abandon your plans.

Me on Mount Logan, smiling despite the big pack and miles left to go on the expedition

The first year I began actively using the book, was also the first time I had actively engaged in training my core for several years.  I was due to go on a ski mountaineering expedition to Mount Logan, and wanted to be as resilient as I could be.  Completing Scott's Killer Core Workout twice a week was something I knew I would be able to fit in.  Working in the mountains can make you pretty tired at times, and so adding too much training too soon could result in getting ill.

Mountain biking aerobically and enjoying exploring new places close to home

High intensity workouts will not create a hill fit individual!  This is pretty much a myth.  I say, pretty much, because the reality is, that once you have a really good aerobic base, some high intensity work is beneficial, but it is the absolute tiny minority, not majority.  In his books, training at the upper end of your aerobic capacity and into your anaerobic, form only 5-10% of your training time, and none for the first few months, depending on your previous experience.

Local lockdown running loop

At work, I always find it interesting when I have clients who are into Crossfit, or Ironmans, but at the end of a week of walking, where we might only cover a maximum of 15km a day, they are knackered.  Why is it that someone can move all day on the flat, or be stronger than I ever will be in the gym, but they struggle to complete walking the Welsh 3000s or run up Snowdon?

Ski expedition in Sweden, for the duration of this trip I felt as though I had boundless energy, regularly finding myself going at an ascent speed of 700m/hr! We did more skiing that I ever thought we would, and still completed our planned traverse from Vietas to Abisko.

As the years have continued, lots of the information from his original and new book have inspired my training thoughts.  I don't tend to really have a plan, more lots of adaptable ideas, and that works really well for me.  Here are some things I love about the book, and ideas I have taken forwards:

• If you only have time to do a couple of strength training sessions a week, then make them core workouts - a strong core is worth almost double that of strong arms and legs and provides important groundwork for your body
• The beauty of the core workout is that a lot of it can be done using your bodyweight, and in the Uphill Athlete book there is a really cool progression of exercises suggested
• Getting better at walking up hills is all about improving your aerobic capacity, short high burst intensive exercise is all well and good, but should only be added as a small section of your training once you have spent a few months building an aerobic base
• The Aerobic base is critical, you need to get used to the idea of walking or moving at a speed where you can hold a conversation the entire time, even if walking uphill.
• Consistency is awesome.  It's impossible for most people to stick to a plan, but if you can at least do a little bit each week, even if it's not what you planned or hoped for, it helps.  This can feel sooooo slow, especially if you're used to that 'out of breath, I'm working really hard' feeling.
• Do what works for you, read the book and take the bits that are relevant for you, try things out, don't follow what your housemate, friend or idol does, ask them why it works for them
• Balance your stresses, life has lots of stress, work, family, relationships, length of day and quantity of sleep.  Once you add training on top of this, it creates more stress on your body, so adapt each day and week to your daily stress too.  If you feel tired, do less, change it, skip it, whatever works for you, so long as you recognise it and avoid getting ill from overdoing life, it doesn't matter!
• Keep a log, if it works for you.  Especially at the start, try to figure out what time of day you prefer to do what training, when to eat, what to eat, how good you felt during the training.  Unless you remember these details it can be difficult to build a pattern of knowing why you got tired / ill and when it was.
• Don't diet and train.  If you need to change your nutrition, it is a lifestyle choice, this means, it is for the rest of your life, and should be to something akin to a normal balanced eating habit.
• Every fourth week, do a bit less.  Give your body and mind some time off every few weeks.  I try to time this week with a week I know it will be harder to train in, e.g. a big family occasion or different work location and it might happen after three weeks on one occasion, and after four on another.

Keeping a log on my Garmin Fenix 3 watch of the training I've done

Enjoy it.  Training can be fun, and not even really training, but rather a good excuse to go walking, mountain biking and climbing.  It can make your next mountain holiday more enjoyable because you won't be knackered at the end of each day.  It could make your next expedition more successful, because you could ski more lines than you thought possible in a week.  And, training the core could make your body feel more connected and enable you to perform better than you believed possible.

Enjoying long training sessions in the Alps around working as a ski instructor

I might say I'm going training, but what I really mean is, I'm heading out my front door to have some fun time outside, I just might be focussing on not moving too fast so I keep my heart rate in a particular place.  So whilst others are rushing to the summit only to be too exhausted to enjoy it and do the same tomorrow, I can have a great experience, not be aching the next day and get out again.

Entering The Dragons Back Race 2019, #dragonintraining

When people discover I enjoy running in the mountains more questions follow including:

What races have you done?

Do you compete?

What races are you doing this year?

How long does it take you to run 10k, a marathon, this race, that mountain?

Enjoying moving along the Crib Goch Ridge during day one of the Dragon's Back Race

Well the thing is, I might have a Strava account but I don't really remember many of the figures on it! It's there to help me ensure I don't overtrain for expeditions, to be a log book for what I've done, and to see what routes other people do for my own inspiration.  I can tell you how far I've run this morning, or for how long, but I have no idea of whether this was faster than last week or last year!

When I choose to enter a race, it's normally because there's a particular route I would like to do, possibly that route without external support would be significantly harder, or it's because the atmosphere of the event is something I would like to be a part of.

May 2015 I joined the Dragon's Back Race Event Team as the Support Point Crew, 2017 as a member of the Check point crew, and naturally in 2019 I had to run it.

Hangin' out with the event crew (I'm on the right) in 2017, taking a much needed break from putting out and collecting markers in the sun (album photo!?)

It is a five day stage race through Wales, from Conwy Castle on the North Coast to the Brecon Beacons in the South.  The route runs 315km along the mountains, taking in over 15 500m of ascent. In addition to the runners a huge event team supports you, providing breakfast, supper, tents to sleep in, advice, medical care and more.  It's a route that makes sense, following a logical line of peaks, with only the occasional out and back, or short section that if it wasn't compulsory, would probably leave out, e.g. Moelwyn Bach!

At the beginning of any journey, expedition, race or new work venture I think about many things.

Running in the snow during winter

The Positives:

• I know how to use a map and compass, so when my GPS watch dies or fails to provide me with necessary information, hopefully I will be able to find the checkpoints and campsite!
• Routefinding experience, for over ten years I've been exploring mountains on and off paths.
• Local knowledge - Day 1 is my 'stomping ground', I climb these mountains on a weekly basis, Day 2 and 3 I knew pretty well, and Days 4 and 5 I was familiar with around half of the course
• Campcraft, knowing that I could keep my bit of the tent organised, and I had a system to look after myself each day would not only save time, but help me to recover and be ready for the following day.
• Time on my feet, working in the outdoors as my full time job meant that my feet were acclimatised to day after day of mountain terrain

Early morning guiding the 3000s, I was more psyched than ever to do long days at work in 2018

The Negatives:

• The distance, I had never attempted to run this far at once
• The time, I had never run this far each day for more than 2 or 3 days at a time.  As the week continued would I have enough time in the day to complete the course, eat, wash, do foot maintenance and recover?
• Training, balancing training with work, home life and building a campervan was a constant battle.  At times I was exhausted, whilst for most of November 2018 I didn't do any running at all as I spent most of it van building
• People, would tent life work?  How would I find the race psychologically with more competitors than they have ever had before?  
• Equipment, mine wasn't the lightest, but it was well tested.  Would this weight difference impact me?
• Food, whilst over the last couple of years I had figured out what food I can and enjoy to eat during long runs and fast packs, would the camp food provided work for me?  Would I be able to eat enough of it?

Keen to bag some munros after a day of outdoor work

Day one

The weather forecast was perfect, cool weather, clouds on the tops at the start of the day, with clear views later.  Jogging along the castle walls felt surreal, I struggled to believe this was happening to me, halfway between crying from all of the effort that brought me to the start line, and smiling that the journey had started.  The ascent of Tal Y Fan provided a good warm up as the mass start meant we would move slowly.  Shortly the running and power walking replaced jogging.  Grassy tops in the Northern Carneddau led to the rockier peaks further south.  The battle between feeling fresh legged, eager, and attempts to conserve energy had begun.

Heading down towards the support point on day one of the race

Five and a half hours later I was stood grinning in the Ogwen valley, embracing every moment.  Shoes and socks off, air the feet, eat lots from my drop bag, drink, restock running pack with food, stretch a bit, suncream on, smidge on my feet and legs for ticks, socks on, shoes on, continue.

Running into the support point in the Ogwen valley

A short sharp ascent up Tryfan came after the support point.  It felt busy on the route and I struggled to enjoy following others step after step, soon I left the main trod and took a more direct route to the summit, scrambling over rockier terrain and leaving the crowds behind.  Friendly faces by Adam and Eve on the top spurred me onwards.  Running off the Glyders the terrain was dry, and familiarity allowed me to follow my nose and enjoy the descent along the red dot path towards Pen Y Pass.  I made the cut off time, not by miles, but enough that I knew I would have plenty of time to reach camp and should be there before darkness.

Happy to be there and loving mountain running on the race

Crib Goch was amazing, as usual!  Dry scrambling took my mind off the gentle abuse my legs had suffered during the day.  Cheerful shouts and hugs from friends in the safety team on the ridge gave me some extra energy, and soon I was on the summit of Snowdon.

Selfie with Tim on the safety team on Crib Goch

The final descent of the day was fabulous, a gradually descending but rolling path led down to the campsite, along the side of Galt Y Wenallt.  This section contained some of the best views and trods of the entire day, perhaps it was the welcoming camp, or perhaps the lack of others as the field was spread out.  Who knows, but I loved every minute of it.

Clapping and cheering surrounded the farm roads into camp, a beep from my SI chip and into the marquee to download my figures for the day.  The crew efficiently ferried me onwards through the bag collection, finding my tent and then food.  It was funny how yesterday carrying my own big bag was perfectly manageable, but now I embraced the crew lugging it around for me.

The start of the race in Conwy Castle.

Knowing the camp craft and organisational side of things would be one of my strong points I went about my routine.  First up, tea and supper.  I had arrived to be able to have a hot snack first, refuelling quickly, and then continuing on to arrange my things in the tent, before my main dinner later.  Stretching, cleaning and checking feet, a bit of chit chat, organising my day food and bags and looking at the map for tomorrow.

The first day went well, I was super happy to finish, eat and drink enough, and my legs still felt strong.

Dawn Patrol in the Glyders before work

Day two

5am wake up the next day.  The first participants would be allowed out at 6am and I knew that I would have to be among the initial batch to stand any chance of staying within the cut offs.  Today would be equivalent to the longest I have ever run in one day and there were some big road sections in it.  Not to mention the fact that it was forecast to be really hot and sunny again.

I was fortunate to join the breakfast queue when I did, as it certainly looked longer by the time I was at the front.  This was one meal that seemed harder to pick what to eat.  I really fancied my own banana oaty pancakes with fruit, but settled on cereal and something hot, along with a big mug of coffee.  Having burnt so much energy the previous day, and beginning today with a gradually ascending road for 4km I wasn't too concerned about feeling ill from running so soon after eating.  Normally I struggle to run particularly swiftly if I've just consumed a plateful of food!

Runners in the sun on Day 2 of the Dragons Back Race

This section of road was probably the only tarmac I enjoyed that day.  It served as a pleasant warm up to get the blood flowing and find my rhythm for the day.  An already hot ascent of Cnicht followed.  Thankful for local knowledge and some route finding ability, I was able to swiftly remain on track as the right of way is suitably vague on the ground.  Descending almost directly down the mountain you link up smooth patches of grass and scree like terrain, grateful for the lack of fog as you have nothing to help you other than following your nose in conjunction with the map.  It's a taster for the wilder terrain of Day 2 with the Rhinogs still to come.  

The Moelwyns came and went, before a really lovely section of trail running that I'd only ever been on once before, heading South to Maentwrog.  Then came more road.  It might've only been 5km worth but I hated every minute.  Upon reflection there was more than one reason for this.

Checkpoint on the summit looking towards the sea

I was feeling hot and knew the next section of hills wouldn't start for a couple of hours.

The bulk of the pack were overtaking me and suddenly it felt like a road race.  There seemed to be so many people and I started to question, probably for the first time ever, why I liked running, why I wanted to do this particular race, and what on earth I was doing!

Honestly and simply, I just quite like running, I get to think about nothing or something or whatever!  I revel in being able to do a quick loop around the hills in a couple of hours, when walkers spend all day doing it.  I enjoy seeing how far I can go in a day of running, and there's something satisfying about the self sufficient and selfish nature of it.  As in a video I saw the other day about two runners, 'it's simple, I think it has become a habit, a bit like having a meal!'

Looking across towards the Rhinogs

So I guess you could say I was having some sort of physiological crisis about my running at this moment, in that, currently, I was not longer liking it, and I was having to think about why I enjoy mountain running!  Oh yeah, and I was currently not really mountain running, but in a valley on a hot road being over taken by (in my mind anyway) road runners! (Actually quite a lot of them were not 'just' road runners, but I was feeling a bit pissed off at the time)

Enjoying early starts when out fastpacking on days off before the race

And then, I bumped into Mel.  We had both been on the support team for the race four years ago, and said that we would one day do the race.  We hadn't spoken much recently and it was great to have a good natter and catch up.  Boosting each other along, actually Mel did most of the work here, we continued until we were on the stretch of path leading towards Llyn Eidden Mawr.  She told me to stop getting my knickers in a twist and get on with it, I was just having a bad moment and everyone gets these on long running days.  

True, but now my heel was starting to niggle a bit.  It had niggled a bit in the year before, but rarely, and temporarily.  I just put it down to the heat, my heel spurs and length of day.  Working in the outdoors means I need my body to function, and I phoned Jim, asking for advice.  What I really wanted was him to say, keep going, it's nothing, don't worry.  But the reality was that I was a bit concerned and scared that I might not be able to work the remainder of the year or future if it got worse.  I had called earlier asking him to pick me up at the end of Llyn Trawsfynydd, and then later saying I would continue to the support point and see what happened along the way.

Trying out new foods whilst loving training in my 'Dragon in Training' T-shirt

The section from Trawsfynydd to Cwm Bychan is so pleasant, perfect mountain running, even without any mountains to go over!  It is wild, deserted and just so cool, I'd run there anyway!  Things were feeling good, I sent Jim a message saying I would carry on, I had time and my heel was feeling ok.

Support point, sit down, eat from drop bag, restock food and water in hill bag, drink, chat, suncream, tick repellant, change socks and feel psyched to continue.  Little did I know that a couple of minutes later, Jim would arrive to collect me, whilst I was already near the top of the Roman Steps.

Trigpoint training views, somewhere in Wales

Similar to my first ever marathon, the Snowdonia Trail Marathon, it was the hills I was looking forwards to the most.  (In that marathon Snowdon is the last section of the race, and was the only bit I really enjoyed!)  The changeable nature of the paths underfoot, making decisions on what route to take, and being able to tick the hills off, made time feel redundant.  

I was beginning to actively look at my map for the recommended times on the peaks and calculating if I was going fast enough, faster, or not.  I still had more than enough time in the bag, but I really wanted to get to camp without needing to wear my headtorch.  Knowing the final descent off Diffwys required some nimble feet I did not fancy the added duress of limited depth of field and vision.

Looking back towards the Rhinogs from Y Llethr, with one peak left to go on day 2

The peaks passed in a daze, I knew where most of the good tracks were, and where I could take the occasional short cut to save on height gain or distance.  I secretly enjoyed being able to use my navigational skills and assessment of the terrain to my advantage here, it felt more akin to how the original Dragons Back Races were, no recommended routes, fewer people, and no GPX files to download.  Whilst understanding the reasoning behind this, I couldn't help but feel as though there was a bit of GPS watch reliance in the race!

At the end of what is probably my favourite drystone wall in Snowdonia, was Diffwys, the final peak of Day 2.  To my delight I managed a reasonable speed of descent, passing a very midge eaten photographer, and knew that at least, if I needed a head torch towards the end, it would be on forestry roads and tarmac.

Then the torture began.  Fluctuations of pain from my right heel as I ran, with my brain trying hard to continue the push onwards.  More fast paced, impactful road running, about 10km worth!  It went on forever and felt as though everyone else had passed me by as I slowed to something you could only just about call a jog.  At least this edition had altered the gradually climbing road on the North of the Afon Mawddach for the flat trails to the South.  I suddenly got cold, forced down the last of my food and put all of my clothes on, I knew it was because I was in need of a hot supper, rest and recovery.  Headtorch on for the final kms into camp.  

The markers through the camp guided me towards some vague clapping and the end-line of the day.   I had finished Day 2 before the cut off.  But, it was ten o'clock, my tent buddies all fast asleep, and I was a hungry hobbling wreck.  Ironically all of my leg muscles still felt pretty good!

My poorly heel turned our annual Scottish holiday from backpacking to bikepacking, it was an enormous positive that came out of the whole injury experience, as I have a new found passion for exploring by mountain bike too now. 

Realistically I knew tomorrow would be a bad idea with my heel, but with my usual stubbornness I planned as though I would being day 3 and leave the final decision until the morning.  My only other issue was that the lack of sleep would begin, having the chance to get a maximum of six hours sleep.  On the bright side at least I didn't have trench foot, like one of my tent mates, who had had to pull out earlier that day.

5am, I limped out of bed, just standing was troublesome, thankful for my poles I completed the hobble of disappointment and shame to the kitchen tent for breakfast.  Friends from the support team asked after me, and I felt as though I was letting them down in addition to myself because of my limp.  Food complete, and trying not to cry, I made the decision to pull out of the race.  It was a sensible choice, realistically, I needed to be able to work on my feet in a week and a half.  I had booked seven days off after the race to recover; in fact I can remember telling my colleague that I wouldn't be able to work then, despite the centre being busy, as I probably wouldn't be able to walk!  Dramatic at the time, a couple of weeks before the race, but it was now a reality.

Living within 40minutes of the camp, Jim was able to pick me up before he went to work.  It took me about thirty minutes to hobble the 300m from camp to the junction down the road with all of my stuff!

Snowshoeing at work in January 2020, the first time I wore boots consistently since the race

Bitterly frustrated and both happy at the same time, I began to reconcile with the fact that I hadn't finished the race as I spent the remainder of my time off from work recovering.

On the one hand I put Jim through so many early alarm clocks so I could go out for dawn patrols in the mountains before work.  He had had to endure my endless obsessing over kit, food, training, routes etc...  I had barely rock climbed for the entire year, been more antisocial than usual, and any spare time I had was taken up with building the new campervan.  And at the end of it, I still didn't finish the race.

Finally back out training again in March 2020, and loving it

But on the other, I embraced it.  So many opportunities and support from people to get out in the hills and go running.  The knowledge that afterwards, the only reason I was limping was my heel, but my legs and other muscles still felt amazing.  I was forced to question what sort of running I like, whether this kind of event was for me or not, and what some of my weaknesses are.  I learnt to manage my food and liquid intake over two long hot days in the hills.  I realised that, without unforeseen injury, my legs could probably take me further than I think without being too tired.  I also had an incredible season of work afterwards, wearing my running shoes every day, as I wasn't able to wear boots until the following January.  In fact, in the year since the race I have probably only worn walking boots for twenty days, two in the summer, ten snowshoeing, and the remainder in UK winter (where working I can't really wear my winter running shoes!)

First trials of longer mountain runs when I couldn't resist the winter conditions at home in Snowdonia in March 2020

I'm still not sure what the future is, I'd love to try the Dragon's back route again, and I'd certainly love to work on the crew again, whether I would want to race it in the current format, I'm undecided.  Perhaps, but I know I still want to continue running in the mountains.  And currently, after my slight setback of 2nd degree burns on my legs last Autumn, I'm slowly returning to long hilly running again, and I love it.