I was really looking forward to this one. Another run along my favourite canal only this time I got to run further up it. From Northampton to Tring is about the middle third of the GUCR. This would be the first time I saw most of it in daylight.

The Ultra Race 90 was going to be tough. Only in non-stop runs have I done more than 90 in a weekend. Having felt a longer hangover from my 45 miles the previous week I was a little worried about how I'd cope on the second day, or even the first. Still, at least its all along a canal. What can go wrong on a canal?

Jon Hoo (one of many new recruits to the Serpie Ultra Running Team) and I got the train at stupid O'clock from Euston and headed for Northampton. Jono was clearly starting to lose his mind before he'd even started. "You wouldn't believe what I have gone and done?" he despaired.

Road over the Blissworth Tunnel

"What?" I replied.

"Look, I've gone and bought a return ticket to Northampton?"

"Yeah? And....."

"But aren't we going to Tring?"

"Yes, but we are running there, FROM Northampton which is where we are going now".

"Oh - Phew that's a relief. I wondered why I bought tickets to Northampton".

With that kind of stupidity he may well become a great ultra-runner.

At Northampton station we had an interesting conversation with your typical Midlander. On asking where the Park Inn hotel was a girl pointed at a building and said, It's just there, you can see it, it's about half a mile away. Then, on our departure she looked confused. "You are not walking are you? Get a taxi". We walked there in 10 minutes and I was looking forward to a day of getting asked along the way "where are you running to? Where did you start". It's true that Ultra-Running does cause heart attacks, but only to those simpletons stood at the side asking the runner what they are doing.

The registration was well set up and I bumped into Rory for the first time since the MDS last year. I immediately asked him next time to put the start back in Brentford. I had been up nearly 4 hours already and was knackered. I was ready for lunch.

There were 2 starting waves, one at 8 which we just caught leaving and then one at 9. We were given clear instructions on how to get from the hotel to the canal just out of town but Jono managed to send everyone the wrong way within 50 meters.

Luckily someone was listening to the instructions and we were on our way to the Canal, the Northampton arm of the Grand Union Canal.

View ULTRArace.45/90 in a larger mapI jogged along with Nick Copas who seems to be my ultra running buddy nowadays. Mark Cockbain and Jackson Griffith were close by too. We saw Jono running off ahead in pursuit of the lead guy who seemed to be building a huge gap. None of the rest of us were really in the mood to make a race of it, not that I would have been able to anyway. The Northants part of the canal is very muddy and the canal was almost empty. Soon we hit the "left turn" and headed towards London. I remember taking this as a right turn when coming from Birmingham and initially led people in the wrong direction and was accused of sending people up to Birmingham.

With that embarrassing turn out of the way we headed in the right direction towards London. This is about the 55 mile point of the GUCR and there is a sign that says 77.5 miles to Brentford. Fortunately we were not going that far today. There are mile markers that signal the distance to Braunston Locks, a place where the GUC meets the Oxford canal. I worked out that we were 11 behind, so that when a marker said 20 it meant we had run 9 miles. This was very useful since my Garmin was about to run out of battery.

Nick and I ran all of it together while I bored him with tales of what these places look like in May when it is a bit darker and I am suffering from hallucinations. First off was the road section while the canal goes under a hill. Last time I was here I was suffering sun stroke and wanting to fall asleep in someone's garden, now it was quite damp and cold I had no such desire to do so. At the end of the road and at 9 miles was the first checkpoint. Here we caught up with Jackson and I exposed him as the bastard who told me about the Spartathlon 3 years ago. As we ran down the path to join the canal again I spoke about the time I ran down here then back up again because I thought I was lost and then I bumped into Pat Robbins (guy who keeps breaking the GUCR record) who assured me it was the right way. Jesus Nick must have been bored of all this banging on about the canal race, as I'm sure you are reading this. Fuck it, it's my blog anyway.

There were only about 60 or so in this race and they all space out pretty far. I don't normally like running with people but found Nick quite good company. Jackson was experimenting with a run/walk race which explained why he was overtaking me every 5 minutes. Soon he shot off and left Nick and I to plod on.

The third checkpoint seemed to take a long time coming and was after about 28 miles. There was soup, tea and coffee and malt loaf and cake. We faffed in the checkpoints getting fed for longer than was necessary and stiffned up quite a bit, which happens much faster in the cold. Getting moving again was hard and Nick was keen to keep moving whereas I was happier to stroll along stuffing my face. In an attempt to catch up with him I did a comedy stumble, tripping then charging about 10 yards before rolling over like an arse and cutting my knee and hand.

I was enjoying a real run of nostalgia and boring Nick with it all. I remembered vividly the Navigation Bridge at 70 miles (15 here) where I fell asleep, then the small station at about 84 miles (29 here) where I tried to fall asleep but Henk wouldn't let me and then the pub bench a few miles on where I did fall asleep for a few minutes before being woken up my Nick Morrison-Smith who thought I was a tramp. At this point I had to stop and take a photo of the very bench I committed this crime on and as we stopped Nick seized up and struggled to move on.

That Bench

The last miles felt quite tough as we were slowing down quite a lot. I was hoping to get it done in about 7 hours and still thought that was realistic at the last checkpoint but we ended up taking 7.32. In the last quarter we ran a bit with a Fetchie "Mile Muncher" who was looking in very good form. My Garmin had given up and hers reported the last checkpoint being 37.5 miles. 7.5 to go, excellent.

It was a bit longer than that though. I was still looking around at the views I had hitherto missed by running this section in the dark. I remember the pub after 99.5 miles and how I flipped when I realised it was not 100. With this in mind we carried on and eventually took the exit onto the road into Pendley Manor.

ouch

We went inside to find Jono had already had a massage and got changed and was waiting around. He had come second and only a minute off the lead. Not bad, for a guy who nearly forgot he was going to Northampton. I decided to stay in the hotel and rest and looked forward to the next day. After a massage my legs felt rather good. A couple of beers (breaking my vow not to drink before my birthday) and pasta and I was feeling sleepy enough to go to bed.

Then the most annoying thing happened, I got a hideous headache. I had no pills to deal with it so I downed water and hoped it would go away but it wouldn't. I worried about not getting to sleep which made it worse, it wasn't even a bad headache it was just really badly timed and hard to get rid of without drugs. I went downstairs to reception and met a guy who was trying to be helpful but actually making things worse. Constrained by the H&S Nazi's and threats of litigation that stifle many economies nowadays he said he could not give me any pills. When I asked where I could get some he mentioned an "easy" 3 mile drive somewhere. I said I had no car which didn't seem to stop him confirming to me once more that if I did have a car then it would be an easy drive.

I decided at about 2am that I was not going to run the next day. I could have done it and I reckon I would have finished faster on the Sunday but I could not afford to be wrecked for the Monday. That could be the first time that work has taken priority over running. A slippery slope indeed.

I got up the next day in time to see the early start leave and then the later one. I took some well deserved digs from Mark and Drew about not starting but stood by it. Plenty more times in the year to smash myself. I watched the start I should have been in and saw the runners run off through the trees. It wasn't a pleasant site but I still had hours of sleep to catch up on. If I am going to do a race sleep deprived it will be because it's part of the race, not because of some stupid headache.

one of many pointless lock crossings

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