Sudbury 10k - May 2008

I've hated every 10k I've run until now. I just don't know how to do them. They are my second least favourite race just above 5k.

I guess the reason for this is that they are effectively a different kind of sport to anything half marathon or above. At least with the latter you have a chance to speed up if you start too slow and vice versa. However there is no such luxury in these races.

Having said that I've really enjoyed doing my "short" 9k runs recently. Now that I'm not running marathons all the time or running to work I have time to go for my jog around Gunnersbury Park. Recently I've been suprising myself with how quickly I can run that distance, faster than ever before. In theory I am in the shape of my life.

This was a really friendly race that seemed to be drowning in Serpies. Over 30 did the race in the end, I thought my chances of coming top of the serpies was quite good until I saw Eric Vamben. damn it. I kept up with him for the first 100m, had my photo taken with him which I hope will be published as it will make me look pretty cool.

All recent races I've been obsessing about my Garmins "average pace" setting. I just pick the pace I need to stay under and try and keep under it. For a pb today I needed to be below 6.20. The first few k I was about 6.05 and in 6th place. I figured that I'd blow up at some point cos there was no way I'd finish that high up.

However, and this may be a symptom of hanging around Ian Sharman too much, I was feeling quite competitve. I was really keen not to get overtaken and on a u-turn I got to see those who were behind me. I'd just overtaken 5th place and he was just behind and there were a few within 30 seconds of me including another serpie. Wasn't going to let that one overtake me.

The route was half on streets half on grass, had lots of tight turns and involved running through chavs at some point. It's a really well organized run with lots of marshall but certainly no pb course. Well, I was still going for one. Just before half way I was doing 6.13. Also just before half way I spotted Gowan, who will be supporting me in the GUCR next week. I thought it would be good practice to shout "I want pizza" at him. I hope I don't feel the same 5k into the 223k race I need to do next week.

I held my place for the second lap too, the average time crept up to 6.19 and was hoping I'd have enough for the last 2k. The guy in front started to slow and I overtook him at about 8k. Feeling bouyed I ran faster but he ran faster still and overtook me again. He pulled away a bit and headed towards the loop in the park where the finish was. There was no one else for quite some distance and I felt oblidged to have another go and try to take him on the finishing stretch. Part sprinting part tip-toeing so he wouldn't notice I almost drew level but he had more speed left than I did and broke for the line. I finished 5th and was really pleased with the competitive finish. I could get used to this. My time was 39.39 - just over a pb despite going faster, the Garmin measured the distance at 6.33 - just over.

I feel like that was the best I have ever performed in a race. Setting out hard and keeping it going. I watched a few dozen other serpies finish and headed back to the club room. Later Gowan walked in with the pizza I asked for at the 5k point. I thought it was hillarious, though I didn't feel hungry. It was good practice for me eating pizza on the move and good practise for Gowan getting the pizza and having to endure my ranting about food. Though I hope I don't need one very 5k next week. Thats 45 pizzas. Should get some sort of loyalty card in advanced.

Three Forts Marathon - April 2008

I was not too worried about this one. "Three Bigs Hills" didn't really concern me after all the stupid verticals I had put myself through recently. Only one thing was on my mind, this was the last marathon I'd run before the GUCR. All the training will be done after this, nothing else left to do other than trying to organise the logistics of the run. Oh - and Leicester City could get relegated today into the 3rd tier (pepsi max challenge super league or something) for the first time in their 124 year history.

It hadn't rained for days and I stuck to my plan of wearing trail shoes. In retrospect normal road shoes would have been fine, ir better. The sun was out and it was getting quite warm. A spectacular day to see such great scenery of the south downs way.

Ian (as usual) was banging on about the possiblity of a team prize. This was to be awarded to the top 4 of the same club. I had competition to be in that 4 from Ian S, Mark, Rob and Ian P. I'd liked to have said that I didn't really care, but I did.

The first few miles were gently undulating, Ian, Mark, Dave and Rob shot off from the start. I suspected that Rob would blow up at some point and I might catch him later crawling up a hill. Ian and Nick stayed behind. I immediately regretted wearing the trail shoes as my feet were hurting from the start and there was little chance of me falling over in this race.

The first "challenge" was at the 7 mile point (which was annoyingly marked as the 6 mile point - Not carrying a garmin nowadays just makes me feel bad). A gentle but significant climb along a trail up a hill. The problem with hills like this is that there is no excuse for not running them. The hills I've done recently over Exmoor and the Three Peaks were so steep there was no alternative but to walk (sometimes crawl) up them. However there is a critical angle of a hill (30 degrees?) where you just have to run it. This was one of those, and it felt weird because I had not run up a big hill for ages.

 

Nick and Ian (P) had caught up with me at about 8 miles. We were at the top of Devils Dyke and the course loops back onto itself. This is the depressing bit where you get to see the runners who are miles ahead of you. The leader ran past us about 5 minutes before the next runner did. He looked so comfortable though he was so tall and thin I did worry about his chances of getting across the cattle grids.

Ian passed (in 3rd) and Mark soon after. Ian resisted having a dig at my current Serpie placing of 5th and outside the "winning team". I was still very aware of this though.

We did the turnaround and I was suprised to see so many runners behind us. I didn't think we were in the top third at that stage.

Most of this race was completely exposed, something that should have affected my choice of apparel. Suncream would have been a good start and maybe a sweatband, however I forgot both of these and was about to run into trouble.

I don't know whether I sweat more in races than others. I was wiping my face every few steps as the salt was streaming into my eyes. At this point I nearly tripped over (this was to be the first trail race I've done this year without falling over). I was so annoyed as I had nothing to wipe my face with, my shirt was strapped down by the bag. I've known people to carry J-cloths and headbands before and should have listened. 

Every 5 seconds I was wiping my face. It was like someone consused my face with a bag of chips and was pouring salt and vinegar over it. At somepoint I passed a sheep and just thought about rubbing my face in its wool. I don't know whether the sheep was aware of the way I was looking at it, or whether it had seen that look before, but I promised myself never to look at a sheep in that way again.

Once again I had the pleasure of running this race as number 1. There are some advantages of being a member of the Adams familiy. I think it's the 5th race I've been number 1 and I've had a number 2 in a race before also. (both kinds). The silly coments are always welcome, some spectators feel so honoured to have actually seen the number 1 runner. It's like a spotting game they are playing. Anyway, as usual I dished out my bank of return comments while running as number 1 (and I'm sure not many other runners have these). The most memorable being "Looking good number 1" was met with "looking more like number 2".

At 17 miles I was 5th Serpie (ie outside the "winning team"). Ian Payne was in front and I was just keeping him in sight to see if I could use my endurance to my advantage. I'm not nearly as competitive as most people but I just kept thinking about the  serpie results base (as I often do in races) and my name being at the bottom.

At about 18 miles there was a small incline (well about as small as primrose hill) and Ian struggled up it. Without really meaning to overtake I did and soon put quite a bit of distance between us. This is the bit of the race I like. In most races I've done recently I spend the last third constantly overtaking people. It's rare that someone passes me at this stage. Some would argue (Ian Sharman particularly) that I'm not trying hard enough at the beginning, but sometimes its because I got lost at the start.

The last 5 miles or so were in shaded footpaths along the south downs way. I was feeling quite stong at this point and was keen to keep the average pace on my garmin below 9mm. Overtook a few more and followed the marshals into the finish. This race was really well marshalled and lots of water stops which was essential in this heat - recommended.

As usual there was a group of serpies waiting for me to finish. Ian S had long finished in in 3.22, Mark in 3.26, Rob in 3.49 and I strolled in in 4.02. I had the excuse (over Mark and Rob) that I'd done nearly 2 marathons the weekend before and the excuse over Ian that I'd ran 26 miles on the wednesday too.

We won the team prize (by default I think) but the organisers weren't really sure what it was. Too hungry to wait we left and still don't know what the prize was. 

That was the end of my hardest training week that involved almost 4 marathons in 9 days plus more miles in between. I felt good but also sad that I'll not be doing this again for a while. The leg training was done now for GUCR. Just a half and a 10k to go. I was most pleased that I can just tank along at a constant pace like I did today. This will be good experience for the end of may.

The meal afterwards in the carvery was only spoiled by sitting opposite a Southampton fan as his team survived and mine went down. When I was younger that kind of thing would have really upset me, but I think there is more to my life now to get too wound up by what a bunch of other men kicking a football do. 

We waved Ian and Mark off as they made their way towards the train station to get to gatwick to do the Belfast marathon the next day. I didn't join them as I had school work to do. In retrospect I wish I had gone because it was such as glorious weekend that I didn't do any of my schoolwork and spend all of it in the sun grumbling that I could be running another marathon now and maybe having a chance of a good time. Instead I went for my usual 9k run around the park. I felt quite good throughout and when I finished was amazed to see that I'd done it 75s quicker than ever before. A 10k race that day would have been a pb. What about a marathon? I would have enjoyed going to the club on wednesday and seeing all the coaches frown at me again.

Shakespeare Marathon

For 18 months I've carried the same label as a marathon runner. ie What by fastest time is. It's the number 2 question (behind "isn't it bad for your knees?"). I've always had to quote the 3.12 and then append an explanation that I'm not really going for times anymore, which I'm not. The only time I "attempted" a pb was in Prague and that was a bowel related disaster.

But now and quite randomly I can quote a different number. Less than 24 hours after stumbling across the finish line of one of the hardest races I've ever done I managed to churn our 3.07.55. Obviously I am really pleased, however I'm not that shocked.

I felt ok at the start of the race and was joking with Ian that I should go for a pb today. Didn't want to commit to it but I didn't think it was impossible. The problem with doing races after races is that you are never quite sure what you have left in the tank. You can prepare for a marathon and be fairly sure that you can maintain a certain pace and have enough to get round. However as I'd taken quite a bit out the previous day I knew I had less to go on. It was just a question of whether I had 26 miles left or not.

I started at about 6.55 pace and found that fairly comfortable for 5 miles. Dave Ross strolled past me early on in the race to get his weekly sub 3. I also caught up (and passed to my suprise) Harley Inder after about 4 miles. I set my Garmin to measure average pace and throughout the race I looked only at that (distance and time were not important). I knew that so long as it didn't reach 7.21 I would pb, 7.15 would be 3.10 and 7.10 would beat Ben and Simon's PB's.

Shakespeare was a lovely course and really good pb potential. Most of it is on fairly quiet roads and probably about 7 miles in total on a path which is shaded.  The sun was out and it was warm, warmer than I'd like. The water and bottle distribution was just as good as London. Water every 3 miles (in bottles) and lucozade around every 6. I took drink from every station, I think my drinking was perfect.

I reached half way in 1.31 with the average pace still saying 7.00. At this point I started doing "what pace can I slow down to and still pb" calculations. Basically 7.40 for the rest would see me pb. Any mile I still ran at 7 would be like buying time.

As I passed half way I was informed that I was 51st. I was just behind a lady at this stage so I overtook.  For the next mile all I could year was "YAY - It's the first lady". I didn't tak too much offence. Maybe I should have worn the hideous tights my dad wore.

As the race progressed the average pace crept up slowly. At 20 miles it was on 7.05. My time was 2.22 which was a 20 mile pb. I recall from Ferrari that my time was 2.23 at this stage, however I'd already blown up. The last 6 miles took 50 minutes on that day. I felt so much better now than I did then and the average pace stayed there for 3 miles which meant that I was putting in some fast miles still. All I could now think about was changing "my number". How good it would feel to be able to quote a different personal best every time someone asked me for it. I was not about to let this go. I couldn't even bear to think about how upset I'd be if I'd let this chance go. It came quite accidentally but was long overdue.

I must have overtaken quite a few people on the second lap as I finished 30th in the end. 3.07 and something, the Garmin stops doing seconds after an hour. Ian and Dave were already at the finish stretching, they looked suprised to see me there.

I saw my Dad too which was great.  He ran his first half marathon in 2.03 and was really pleased. I so glad he's got into running and that he's enjoying it. I'll make sure he does a marathon before the end of next year. He'll be fine.

So this adds more fuel to the argument that tapering is a waste of time. Not conclusive sure but certainly makes me feel that pb's are more likely when you treat a marathon as a distance you a comforable completing regularly rather than treating it as a one off effort. 

Exmoor - Another 29 mile marathon

Do these people in the south west not have a ruler?

The Exmoor coastal marathon was possibly the most spectacular marathon I have yet run. I say probably because for much of it I had my head down in an attempt to stop my lungs from exploding.

I  get to that start of most races nowadays not quite sure how I am feeling. Back to back marathons are taking their toll and leaves me feeling flat at the start of a race. However that feeling soon subsides when the running start. Well, at least until the first hill, which was about 2 minutes into the race.

I've gone into each race recently hurting from the last one. This was no different. After about half a mile there was a steep hill and lots of steps. About an 800ft ascent. I felt so much pain in my calves again (a part of my body that didn't trouble me till recently) as I went up a hill just half a mile into the race. All the time I keep thinking to myself that this is a good learning experience for me. 6 weeks time I'm going to be feeling worse than this and will still have further to go. I need to know how it feels to run long hard distances when my body feels so weak.

Luckily it had stopped raining just as the race started which allowed us to look up and admire the beautiful view of the exmoor coast. I felt sorry for all those poor suckers who are running the Deptford circus the next day. 

The first "10k" measured suspiciously at 11.5k. I'm always in two minds when that happens. It's either annoying that I'm going to take longer to finish this that expected or I'm getting some value for money miles - free miles that I don't even have to pay for. For marathons is such settings these VFM miles are very welcome. Somehow i doubt that I'll feel the same if another mile was added to the GUCR.

The route then went on a uphill (a theme here) stretch of road. There was a sign warning motorists about the 25% incline. No such warning for runners. I've become a wimp recently and walked a lot of hills. I often use the excuse that there are too many people in front of me in the way to run but I couldn't use the same excuse this time. The road was massive.

Soon we were on the top of some cliffs looking at the coastal path. It wasn't as windy as the Jurassic coast which was good because it allowed me to keep my head up and look.

Cameramen have a habit of hiding in secluded places (usually at the tops of hills) and taking awful photos of runners as they struggle up a hill. They are like snipers. However this one was different. They got some spectacular photos including this one that appeared in the race report in Runners World.

The route followed coastal trails and roads and had about 5 very long inclines in total. It was by far the hardest marathon I've ever done but also the best looking. I ran alongside some randoms as usual including an older lady who could still run up the final hill that led into a hilltop town. I walked it and overtook some others trying to run it, there seemed no point in destroying my legs.

I reached the last water station when my watch said 26 miles. I was a bit dehydrated though it was completely my own fault. I did not take enough with me and it was getting hot. Obviously a great thing about a race being long is that you get some extra miles for free. The bad side is that you never really know where you stand in terms of distance remaining. I didn't really worry though as it was such a nice race and a nice day.

I finished in just over 5 hours and was surprised to find out that I'd come second in the series and won a rucksack. I can't think how I came second, I must have been one of about 4 runners to do the 3 races required. Another great race that was really hard but well worth the trek down to the end of the country for.

 

The Picnic Marathon - July 2007

Entry to this race was a result of unstoppable human instinct. My every encounter with a wet paint sign has resulted in me leaving a finger mark on the gloss. Every time I hear “don’t touch that it’s hot” usually leads to a date with some frozen peas or a cold tap. So when I discover a website that boasts of 26 miles that make up “The Hardest Marathon in Britain”, well, who am I to deny myself these natural throbbing urges?

I had never seen Box Hill before though I’d heard a lot about it. A friend made an interesting analogy. The difference between Box Hill and a regular hill is like the difference between a box jellyfish and a normal jellyfish. They are more or less the same except that a box jellyfish is about 10 times more likely to kill you.

Before the start we set about constructing a picnic. This involved lugging boxes drink, water and carrots (?) up a hill to the start/finish line. I asked whether the carrots were because we would be finishing in the dark. Leading the picnic building (and the race) was a man in some very suspect Union Jack shorts called Dr Robert. He read out the usual pre-race spiel. There are 32 hills in this race, add 50% to your marathon pb to get an estimated time, last time only 12 took part in this race and no one has returned to do it again. Oh and by the way, of those 12, two of them made it to the top of the first hill and then quit.

The start (hill 1/32) was a grassy face of Box Hill. It took a good 5 minutes to gingerly jog up and onto a 100 yard stretch of flat(ish) trail. Into the woods and then down 190 enormous steps to a stream with some stepping stones. Over we went and around some more trail and then back to those steps.

I’ve never really thought about how to take steps in a race. Maybe there should be a “stepsonsaturday” group or a Greenwich steps time trial to coach us? These steps were big and each would add a teaspoon of lactic acid into your legs. Myself and others crawled up supporting our body weight with our hands on our knees. We accepted the fact that in this case there was no escalator, though I was keeping my eye out for a suggestions box.

After the steps there was a short respite. However, nothing could take my mind of the fact that I was 20 minutes and only 1.5 miles into a marathon and I already felt like lying down and vomiting. And those steps were to return, another 3 times.

The next few miles resembled a fairly tough trail race (think North Downs 30k). This was bliss in comparison to what we’d just experienced. I could finally take my mind off the steps and enjoy the peaceful and serene environment of running in the woods. That is, until my tranquillity was spoiled by a deafening crack of thunder.

The grass turned to mudslides, the trails turned to streams. The steps had sapped my energy such that I couldn’t lift my legs that high. This resulted in me tripping over a few times and spending much of the run on my face.

There was a water stop at about 5 miles where I was informed that I was only about 1.5 miles from the turnaround point. The race consists of running out to a point and then back again and repeating. On the plus side I knew exactly what to expect. On the minus side I knew exactly what to expect – those steps, 3 more times.

Alas it was not true, straight after the water stop we were lead into some woods and hidden by the trees were more spiteful steps. “It hurts up until a point and then doesn’t get any worse”[1]. This is true and I reached that point after 20 minutes. Up the steps I went and then down a really steep slope to reach the turnaround point. People were hanging on to trees like monkeys to stop themselves from just sliding down.

And back again.

The rain continued to pour as we marched towards those steps again. A great thing about this race is that it loops onto itself quite a lot so you can always see most of the other runners. It was good to see that the leader of the race was not that far in front. It was not so good to see that the last placed runners were not that far behind….

The Midsummer Munroe Half Marathon started at 4pm, 2 hours after the picnic. I got to see the leaders sprinting at me with fresh legs and then passed the majority on the half runners on the steps near the beginning. My Gran always said it was rude to cross people on the stairs, but she also said I should never go out in the rain without my coat or to get my feet wet or muddy. She doesn’t need to find out.

Running back down the big hill at the start was quite fun. 2.24 was a fairly sobering halfway split. All that remained for me to do was to turn around, go back up that hill and then do it all over again.

The organisation of this race was superb. Dr Robert had picked a route that got the most possible hills into the 26 miles as possible. There were not a huge number of turns and each one was clearly marked. Jelly babies and mars bars were bountiful and frequent. There were no mile markers, not that it mattered. Pace would alternate between 7min miles and 15.

The website made for some comical if not intimidating reading. It initially suggested that you would not get a medal for finishing outside 5 hours. This was dispelled at the briefing when Dr Robert explained how hard this race was. Most of the other tough marathons in the UK had been completed by some of the runners in this race. Many spoke fondly of Snowdon, Beachy Head, Needles etc as really tough marathons. I think at the end of this race they redefined their concept of tough.

I had the pleasure of running this race as number 2. It’s rare that I get beaten to first place in the alphabet in a small field, though I think the number was quite fitting. Whenever someone would cheer “COME ON NUMBER 2” I’d respond “I feel like a number 2, do I look like one?”

The second half of the race did not feel as bad as I feared, probably because my body was devoid of all feeling. I passed a few of the stragglers on the half, including Ian Sharman who was walking it with his girlfriend. I savored the moment, thinking it will probably be the only time I ever overtake him in a race. He pointed out a slight technicality that we were actually in different races but I didn’t quite catch it all as I sprinted past at about 3mph.

The final downhill at the end was the one time you could truly let go. Having spent 5 hours carefully treading downhill and busting my guts to get uphill it was exhilarating to be able to sprint to the finish and not worry anymore about my legs or falling over.

I finished just over the 5 hour benchmark, though the winning time was 4.23. There was a picnic at the end and the race mementos were quite good, especially the T-shirt with all of our names on the back.

This is definitely not a race you can prepare for. The steps and the slides make it as random a marathon as you are likely to find. There was a qualifying standard of 3.30 in a flat marathon when I entered, however there was a man there who was doing this as his first marathon. I fear than every other marathon for him will now be a let down. I would fully recommend this race to anyone. Unfortunately it is only run every 2 years as it stands.

The t shirt has a quote from Winston Churchill saying “When going through hell – keep going”. I enjoyed it so much I couldn’t really call it hell and I hope I never find out what it is actually like to go through hell, and I hope I don’t have to wait for 2 years to go through this again.

---

[1] Ann Trason

Tring2Town

Tring2Town – A bloody long way.

I registered to do this race online. Name, address, club, estimated finish time, credit card details were all entered without much conscious thought from myself. Congratulations, my screen exclaimed, You are now registered for the Tring 2 Town Ultra – All the best etc. At this point my skin turned cold and my heart raced as I realised that I’d just opened the door to a dangerous place. The past 2 years had led me to this point that I knew was irreversible, something that can not be taken back. It took a moment for me to put it in order in my own head, but once I did it was simple. What has just happened that would change my life forever? – I now know my credit card details of by heart.

So, what have my keyboard happy fingers got me into trouble with now? A 45 mile race? Damn it. I’d only gone online to buy a memory card.

Six months later I’m on the starting line. It feels like its come so soon, yet I also feel that this has been on the horizon forever.

There are over 100 runners here, but I only see 6 legs – and two of these are my own. Everyone looks dressed to climb a mountain and has covered up considerably. Do they know something I don’t? Will I regret wearing shorts for this? Is it heat loss? Nettles? Dogs? The Randy Old Women of Rickmansworth?

I was getting quite a lot of attention for sporting the running number 1. People were glancing at me, obviously under a misapprehension that I was any good. There are some great perks to being top of the alphabet. You get cool running numbers, are easier to find in phone books and I always got the best seat in exams. There are one or two drawbacks though. I recall being the first in my school to have the TB jab.¹

The first 1.5 mile or so was from the hotel/pub to the start of the canal. Everyone spread out quite quickly. Some walked to canal so that they would not get over excited and try and sprint at the start. My plan was nice and simple, run 9 minute miles until I finish. I often have a problem with navigation, however now that I am on the canal I know the way. Run 31.1 miles and then turn left. No one could possibly mess that up? Right?

I mean Left....

Saturday 16^th December is a day that should be memorable to many. It was the day of the Serpentine Christmas party. That morning I had a strange premonition. I dreamed that on that night I would end up eating lots, drinking more, getting a bit tipsy and babbling on incoherently about some random nonsense whilst attempting to dance. With this in mind I decided to take precautionary measures such that these risks could be minimised. I thought that I should a) burn off these calories before I consume them, b) at least give myself a subject to babble on about and c) ensure that my legs were in no condition at all to even attempt to dance. So I put my plan into motion.

It was about time I did a long run.² I set out from my house in Ealing and asked myself - how far can I run in 6 hours? The answer was Reading. I saw some beautiful sights on my 36 mile amble down the Bath road. Heathrow Airport, The M25, The M4 (twice), Slough (whose Tesco I used as a toilet stop). I was elated at being able to run that far, walking only to cross motorways and visit petrol stations. I felt surrounded by an aura of satisfaction (and others could smell it I think) as I bought my train ticket back to Ealing and made the hour long journey back home. As I hobbled through my front door and shouted my achievement to my housemates they just stared blankly and asked “Couldn’t you have run somewhere better?” Fair point.

So, having burned over 5000 calories I felt no guilt in gorging on the unpronounceable menu at the Shepherds Bush Hilton, drinking all that I could and babbling on non stop about my run. As far as I recall, there was NO dancing, not by me anyway.³

I knew I could run at 9.00 pace for 35 miles and still feel OK. I also knew how to run this pace exactly without any need for Garmins, milemarkers or anything else. My pace was seeing me overtake a few people early on. The pack spread out neatly and I counted about 15 people in front of me. It was just a matter of time now. When my stopwatch says 7 I should be lifting my arms up and woo hooing. In 7 and a half hours I will be drunk.

The ground was quite hard to run on. It was like cement mixed with bits of brick. Very uneven and quite hard on the feet. I’d developed a running style that involved lifting my feet only a little off the floor. Great for saving energy and going easy on the knees. Not so good if you wanted to avoid tripping over too much.

We were handed a route guide that told us which bridges to cross over at. It was very simple, all of the bridges had numbers on and you were instructed to cross over at bridge x. However, the distance of the bridge from the start didn’t seem to add up. When I crossed a bridge at 5.3 miles there was an hour on the clock. It had taken me an hour to do 5 miles? So that’s 9 hours for the whole thing? I did not feel like I was going that slow. In fact I was absolutely certain I was not. At that early stage the worst thing to do would be to panic. It wasn’t as if I’d be devastated with missing my target, the thing that concerned me was how I’d judged my pace so badly. Do I run faster? Settle on a slower time? Instead I decided to go for the simpler solution, the route guide was bollocks.⁴

More bridges came and went with the same anomaly. I arrived at the first checkpoint, 9.8 miles in 1.44.

Ultimate Driving Ballads – Without the Car

I had spent the previous week carefully constructing a soundtrack for this event. Whilst training I was experimenting with food, drink⁵, clothing, shoes, pace, stretching and music. Every run would see the playlist on my cheap 8 hour device evolve into the soundscape that would get me through this. Each song had a purpose. Sweet Child O’ Mine, Free Bird, The Impossible Dream and Go Your Own Way would lift me from a low, Song Remains the Same, Tonight Tonight and The Queen is Dead would keep my tempo, Livin’ on a Prayer was to sound so that the “Whoooah we’re halfway there” coincides with exactly half way. Comfortably Numb⁶ will remind me of how shit it feels to watch your dream drift off in front of you, and you decide not to reign it back in. Always in the mood for irony or brutal truth I take Highway to Hell, The Road to Hell and Creep, “What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here”.

I made a decision not to carry an mp3 player on this run⁷. I never have done in a race as I’ve always thought it to be offensive to those people who have come out to cheer you. However, upon leaving the checkpoint it dawned on me that I was completely on my own. The runners had become very spaced out and the only time a passer by would talk to me would be to apologise for their Doberman mauling me.

For the next tens miles I have only my own brain for company. Could be worse, it could be Jade Goody’s brain.

So my train of thought commences. The top of my thighs hurt a bit, how are they going to cope with the remaining 35 miles? OK just don’t think about them and the pain will go away, think about something else. Oh, bridge number 165. It’s cool how every bridge has a number, it makes it easier for Trolls to tell people where they live. What happens when a new bridge is built between two consecutively numbered bridges? It would have to be called 165a or something. They couldn’t possibly re-number all the bridges could they? The Trolls would get so confused and turn up to the wrong dinner parties and everything. Oh I need a wee. Look out for somewhere where I can ... oh damn it, there’s a girl running behind me. I can’t go in front of a girl, it would be rude, and I’ll get stage fright anyway. Must hold it for a while and think of something else. Ow my thighs hurt....

I wish Jimmy Page was here.

The way to do ultra marathons (so I’ve heard) is to break it down into manageable chunks. I discovered this in my second long run. To make a 6 hour training run interesting I decided to run the length of the Central Line from Ealing Broadway to Epping. All I was thinking about was getting to the next station. I have long suspected that many of these “zone 5 & 6” stations don’t actually exist. It’s just some map drawer taking the piss. However, I can confirm that they do all exist, even Theydon Bois. Whether it was necessary to run 35 miles to prove that is still in debate.

20 miles was the second checkpoint (3.00 ish). I was still a little behind schedule but had caught up a bit. My pace had not changed so I was a bit confused still. My groin was hurting a bit more but that was all. About 4 people caught up to me and left at the checkpoint and ran on. I stayed to stretch a bit.

Only a marathon to go. Ha Ha. I was allowed to say it, but if I’d heard anyone else say it they would end up in the canal.

I started to get annoyed by my belt pack thing. I was travelling very light relative to everyone else. I just had a large bum bag. The things inside started rattling and bouncing around. It was like Chinese water torture, or Hertfordshire lucozade torture. The ground turned soft. The beautiful scenery gave way to flyovers. The picturesque buildings and boats became industrial estates and car parks. The even surface turned to mud. The friendly walkers and other joggers turned into grumpy fishermen and grumpier wives. I was headed towards Uxbridge.

One of the necessary preparations for a race like this is the kit you run in. A normal marathon would just be a case of trainers, shorts and a Serpie top. For this run though there was a lot more to it. I felt like a woman does before a Christmas party. “I could wear my black trainers, but then if it rains then my toes will get soggy, unless I wear the thicker socks. But they can sometimes give me blisters. I could wear shorts, but if it’s cold I’ll regret not wearing trousers, though my trousers don’t have very big pockets so I can fit my balms in there. Do I wear the long sleeve Serpie top or the vest with a top underneath? I could wear my white top underneath the vest, but then the white would clash with my shoes”.

3.35. ♫ Whoooaaahhh We’re half way there....

I think I passed the marathon point in 4 hours. At the same time I’d caught up with another chap who was pleased to hear that we had passed that milestone. He them informed me that the measurements were not quite right as the route plan did not include the 1.5 miles we ran to the start of the canal. I could not quite believe how I had not figured this out but it explained exactly why I was behind. I was running a perfect pace, its just I’d ran 1.5 miles more and hence should be about 14 minutes behind.

Thought express 2 – My broken Heart (Rate Monitor). Should I have used a Heart Rate Monitor to manage my effort rather than a constant pace?

I bought one of these gizmos recently and was quickly confused. To train effectively I need to know my resting heart rate, which apparently you achieve in your sleep? How are you supposed to measure that? Your maximum heart rate can be achieved after the second burst of 3 minutes of running as fast as you can. After that kind of effort I doubt I’ll be able to lift my arms to see my watch, let alone see the reading. I decided that rather than let another £40 go to waste I’ll at least have some fun with it. I thought I’d just wear it around the house and see how my heart reacts to stuff. Here is how it went;

59-Put on strap thing

80-Run downstairs with my washing and put in machine

65-Sit drinking tea and look at football scores on teletext

125-Emile Heskey??? Scores a goal?

120-Cycle to supermarket

75-Rate drops as I walk through chilled food area

135-BUY ONE GET ONE FREE – PRINGLES. Pick up 8 tubes

160-Get honked at on way home by juggernaut

90-Unpack shopping and explain to girlfriend about HRM

80-She calls me a pathetic sad geek

65-Read instructions to try to figure it about a bit more

315-Girlfriend enters room and tells me she’s pregnant

220-“Just Kidding” she says. “It’s your fault for being so sad”

175-Struggle to remove strap

0-Get strap off and throw it at her head

0-She breaks it

Thought Express 3 – In answer to the question “What do you think about when running for that long?”

It’s a hard question to answer. I think about so much but recall so little. It’s a bit like dreaming. Then I thought, it’s exactly like dreaming but the other way round. When I’m running I try not to think about the complications of the race. Whether I’ll get dehydrated, have stomach problems, what to do with a blister, what if I pull a muscle, trip over, get lost? All these things I try to push out of my mind and I think of other stuff, like what to say to my friends at the checkpoints, what to include in my race report, what I’m going to say when I cross the finish line, how bad Leicester City are, what I’d like to say to people I don’t like at work and wouldn’t world peace⁸ be great?

When I’m not running however I think about all those things in the first list. Even when I’m sleep I dream about travelling to a race, trying to remember all my stuff and getting ready at the start. That is until I’m rudely woken up by a slap round the head at 3am and someone shouting “GET THOSE BLOODY SAFETY PINS OUT OF MY BED”.

What do I think about when I’m not running? That would be a better question.

Checkpoint 3 – 28 miles ♫ Back in Black

I have now “raced” further than ever before. I have run more than a marathon and still have 17 miles to go. My legs are quite sore but I know that means nothing. One of the most important things I learned in the training is how far you can actually go when not feeling great.

The thought express was to sit in the station for a little while as I had been joined by some of my friends. Nikolai and Lou asked if it was ok to run alongside me for a while. I felt like Forrest Gump⁹. This was the part that everyone said would be most difficult. Gowan was there too. He managed to be there for every checkpoint. I felt that I was cheating slightly by having all of this great support. Most of the other runners were on their own, having travelled from far on the day to run in some place they didn’t know. I’m glad they were there though.

Lou is always fun to have around when running. She would often remind me that my “form” was good¹⁰ and that I was winning¹¹. I felt sorry for Nikolai though as he should have been running the whole thing with me. No, that’s wrong. He would have run the first mile with me then the next time I’d see him would be at the finish in 7 hours eating a burger or something. It was great to see him back running after 3 months out.

The surface was now gravel. I had several small stones in my shoe but was scared of taking it off as I’d have ended up with even more small stones in my shoe. The gravel was quite tough and my legs were getting sorer. It was great having company though. Even if one of them started coming out with this..

The Strange world of Lou Reeves 1 – “I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be awful if you found a dead body while running?” Yes, It would.

The Strange world of Lou Reeves 2 – “I’ve foolishly decided to wear a g string and it’s really uncomfortable” I wouldn’t know.

We approached the turning. 31 miles in and I was looking for a left turn, praying it would be obvious so I wouldn’t miss it. I knew that as soon as I see this I’m on the home straight. And there is was..... over a bridge then round to the left. Making the turn felt like the last turn in the London Marathon at Buckingham Palace. You can see the finish. Only I can’t. It’s FOURTEEN miles away. However I could see the Wembley Arch. It’s the first recognisable thing I have seen so far. Thank god they built it so quick.

Checkpoint 4 – 33 miles 5ish hours. ♫ The hardest part

The stretch between CP4 and CP5 was the hardest part. I’d slowed a bit and was hurting more and more. If no one was around I may have considered walking. Luckily I was in very good company. A lot of friends had come out to see me run today. To start walking would be the end of me and the thought of making everyone wait longer than necessary eliminated these cravings pretty quickly.

At 35 miles exactly Nikolai got a call. It was Ben who informed us that Ian Sharman has just won. Less than 6 hours had elapsed, I still have 10 miles to go and the Serpie I was talking to at the start had finished? I’d liked to have said “Well Done” and meant it. I’d loved to have felt really happy for him and look forward to seeing him at the end, but for some reason I couldn’t. My body and mind were filled with bile and spite.

There was a seminar the night before this race where lots of tips and stories were exchanged about ultra running. For many, including myself this was their first. There was an air of nervous anticipation in the room. The guy leading the session says that the key to success is how you feel when running. How you feel determines the outcome of your run. He asked us to take a card and to write a few words on it to say how we wanted to feel the next day. Some then read out their suggestions. “To feel Strong, in control, relaxed, the sense of achievement and to have a smile for the finish line”. I couldn’t decide what to put at the time but I did later add something to the card. Soon after Ian’s victory I thought about what I’d written, what I wanted from the race.

Nikolai and Lou were still beside me. Nikolai has been out of action for 3 months and is just returning to running. He should have been doing this too, but after 3 months he’d changed his goals and was really pleased to be running his longest run for ages.

Lou is in training for her first marathon. If she is feeling nervous about it she hides it well. She doesn’t need to worry at all. This was her first long run for a while and she looked fine.

They both ran 13 miles with me and both looked like they were enjoying themselves.

I thought of the guys at the end who were waiting to buy me beer at the nearest pub. How I was looking forward to seeing them.

Gowan had been there at every checkpoint along the way. Sometimes I’d only acknowledge his presence with a grunt. I felt guilty for a man who’d thanklessly drove from point to point on a canal to cheer me on for 2 minutes at a time. Then I remembered that I’d sent him a text message at exactly half way. It said “Start singing the song”, a reference to the Bon Jovi song that had become the official anthem for being half way through anything. I’d forgotten to ask him if he received it. I asked Nikolai, “Did Gowan like that text?” “Yes, he loved it”. Brilliant, Gowan was happy too.

I thought about what was on my card. What I wanted from this race. 6 miles from the end I realised that I’d already got what I came for. The pain receded, the pace quickened.

Checkpoint 5 41.1 miles 6.40 ♫ This is the end. My only friend, the end

The sky started to dim. I was lucky to be finishing while it is still light. Nikolai and Lou had left me to run the home straight. Harlesdon isn’t the most pleasant place to run at the best of times, however it contained a steel cold beauty. Iron bridges, rail depots, dockyards, rusty boats, abandoned warehouses and idle cranes. It felt like I was running back into London.

Ben and Simon had joined me at this point. I think they were anxious to get to the pub. I felt stronger and faster than I had been for the whole race. I have never felt this good in the last 4 miles of a marathon. Navi popped up out of nowhere and started running too. It was Forrest Gump all over again. There were a couple of really steep bridges along the way. I have spent the day exploring the 4 dimensions of space and time and so I was not going to let a slight blip in the 3^rd dimension beat me.

I could now see 3 people ahead of me. If I pick up the pace I could catch them, all of them. Alas there was no time. If the race had been a mile longer id have done it. Damn the race for being so short. I finished in 10^th place. I got caught up in the euphoria so much that I nearly forgot to get my medal¹².

So what now? There are so many places to go from here I don’t really know where to begin. Longer Ultras or Multistage ones? I don’t know. I’ll leave that thinking for a little while. In the mean time I have a marathon to train for in 3 months, and I need to start reducing my mileage.

Top Ten Tips for Ultra Fun

1. Get used to running whilst you are still aching. I did 20 miles runs followed by 20 mile again the next day. From the very first step on the second day I was aching, however I knew that I needed to know how this feels. Knowing that you can run 20 miles whilst feeling sore is what will get you through a race like this. Be very careful about confusing aching with injury though. If you feel injured, stop.
2. Drink early. I could comfortably run 15 miles without fluid. However, run any further and the dehydration will catch up on you with interest. I discovered this on my first long run. 15 miles no drink. After 25 I had to stop in every shop and guzzle half a litre of drink and it wouldn’t quench my thirst.
3. Talk about it constantly. Think “Fight Club” but with the opposite rules. First rule - talk about it constantly, second rule - talk about it constantly, third rule – if someone does not know about it then go and talk to them about it forcefully, fourth rule – if someone changes the subject to themselves talk about it even louder, fifth rule – if all your friends desert you for being boring, don’t panic. That will leave you with more spare time to run.
4. Vaseline – EVERYWHERE. Just don’t get caught in the bike room at work applying the stuff.
5. Turn your long training runs into at bit of an adventure. My run along the central line felt a bit like the journey of Frodo Baggins. Leaving the shire (Marble Arch), galloping though Rohan, land of men (St Pauls), evading orcs and uruk hai through the detestable bowels of hell (Bethnal Green). Then through the secret staircase into Mordor (Roding Valley), sneaking up Mt Doom wary of the Nasgul (Theydon) then sanctuary in heavenly Rivendale (Epping).
6. Don’t experiment with music (if you take it) on a long run. Take what you know will work. I made the mistake of getting over excited in a HMV sale and bought loads of cheap CD’s from bands I’d heard were quite good but I wasn’t sure whether I liked them or not. The band I took was Korn. I thought they were some sort of hard rock band; turns out they produce some god damn awful rapity hop or something. I first attempted the central line run listening to this shite. After 3 hours of listening to f*****g this and f*****g that and everything is f*****g f****d I just felt like killing myself. Instead I got on the train at Leyton and went home. It’s a mistake that Frodo didn’t make. Next time it was Celine Dion all the way......
7. When you get overtaken by a smug runner in the street, just catch up and ask “so how far have you run today? 8 miles? Oh”
8. 90% of distance running is psychological. The other half is in your head
9. Stretch as much as possible after a run. I did and could do so much more the days after. (Yeah, I know it’s a tired cliché but it works. Like when your mum says “always wash behind your ears, wrap up warm when you go outside and stay away from that Cynthia from the villiage).
10. Remember, from what I’ve heard most people who turn to the ultra side never go back.

Acknowledgments (If Alphabetical order, since that always decides what’s best)

Ambition Events – For organising such a great race

BBC Weather – They got it right, for once.

Ben Cope – For pacing me over the last 4 miles and not muscling in on my photo opportunity at the finish.

British Waterways – For providing these lovely canals for us to run on.

Debbie Edwards – For all the coaching and encouragement in the past 12 months. Though she did piss off to New Zealand on the big day....

Fetcheveryone.com – For counting all my training miles and for the great advice I got off other users

Google Maps – For visualising exactly how far this was. (You can see the start, the finish and Canada in the same shot)

Gowan Clews – For being at every checkpoint. For thinking about this day probably more than I was. For refuelling me with fantastic cake and Serpie fudge along the way. For always being there when I needed energy drink and encouragement. The lift home was pretty useful too.

Ian Sharman – Amusing me greatly by comprehensively winning this race wearing tennis shorts and a hoodie.

Imodium instants – Came up trumps once again.

Lou Reeves – For taking my mind off the running with her own odd sense of reality

Navi Dhillon – Sports massage and for running about 1 mile with me in boots.

Nikolai Pitchforth – For pacing me in a race he would loved to have done himself. For wanting to continue the journey into ultras with me after this.

Serpentine Running Club – For the nice top

Simon Bamfylde – Running the final 4 with me despite the risk of muddying his nice shoes and jeans.

Tesco, Slough – Nice toilets

Gatcliff 50k - Nov 2006

Greetings from the ultra side.

On registration I picked up the 8 page map. My eyes glanced over the “TL into the FD. 600m FL ignore G continue and XST by the KGT”. Thinking how I often struggle to find my own bedroom I realised that this could be a long day.

And then some hope. I found a guy who was starting the race the same time as me. (I cockily turned up for the 9.30 start because I had this silly idea in my head that I was quite good at running.) Great. So long as I can keep up with him I’ll be fine. Oh, what’s that you say? You’ve won this event ten years in a row?

Bugger.

We started the first stage. I made a few observations on the way such as; its very muddy, there are a few hills, not another style, oh that rusty gate looks hazardous, ahhh look at those cute sheep. This was met with responses such as; yeah it gets muddier, yeah it gets hillier, yes there are hundreds, I know its worse in the dark, don’t be fooled by their apparent fluffiness – they are evil – just keep running and pray. I’d like to think I was currently doing the hard bit. How wrong. How wrong.

First Checkpoint – 7.5k 52 minutes. Apparently that was fast.

A drink and some chocolate digestives and we were away. (Incidentally, the entry fee for this was only £6. For that I got about 10 cups of juice, three cups of tea, soup, 10 chocolate digestives, 2 sausage rolls a ham and tomato sandwich, 7 ritz crackers, a twix and a bacon sandwich. Just a shame they make you get muddy first)

After about 8 miles or so my companion decided I was too slow. “Are you OK with the instructions as I’m going to pick up the pace a bit?” Yeah yeah I’m fine I say. I’ll figure it out.

Exactly two minutes later I was lost.

I was in a golf course. The instructions said something about a golf course but I couldn’t understand. I ask some golfers whether they’d seen someone run past and they pointed down a path. I followed and then onto a road, stopped a car an asked them the way to Godstone, the village I was aiming for. I was going completely the wrong way. That golfer had deliberately misled me. B*****D. Then I thought, if you are up that early to play the most boring sport in the world you have to do something to make it fun. (For those that think Cricket is the most boring sport in the world, you are wrong. Cricket is not a sport).

Somehow 20 minutes later and by accident I found a gap in a hedge that was mentioned in the notes. Found a yellow brick road and soon was in Kansas City.

Checkpoint 2 – 15k .05. need to bring meaning to the phrase “make up for lost time”.

If you are familiar with the works of MC Escher you may recognise the picture where the people are marching upstairs in a loop continuously. It’s a great picture sure, but it’s impossible in reality isn’t it? No. They have accomplished the very same thing over a 50 kilometre course using horrid muddy hills instead of steps. The course became unreal. One muddy hill followed another. A bit of muddy flat followed by a steep muddy hill then a steeper muddier hill followed by a slightly less steep muddy steep hill.

These hills could barely be ascended on foot. The worst came just before the end of the stage. A Big hill followed by a huge staircase. Stairway to heaven? Almost. At the end was chicken soup.

Checkpoint 3 – 24.5k 3.35 I could have jogged a marathon by now.

With races like this the most confusing map instructions are always the ones immediately after the checkpoints. Such as “Leave exit, Turn Left and then turn left on road”. That’s fine, but what about when there are 2 exits? And 2 roads?

Obviously I picked the wrong one and ran half a mile in the wrong direction before I realised that I had gone several minutes and have not seen a hill or any mud. I am way off course. So I returned to the checkpoint and was lead in the right direction. “This way dear, just turn left here and go into that big pile of mud”

What followed this was a really beautiful part of the course. I was on top of a big hill with great views of several other hills, villages and of course the M25. Finally there was a downhill bit. Unfortunately this downhill was so steep that I had to walk down otherwise I would have either broken my leg or ran straight into the M25. Still, it was a welcome break from hills and mud. (Did I mention those?)

One of the really exciting things about doing this race was the opportunity to carry some equipment that I had not carried before. In my bum bag were the following; A torch, a compass, an ordinance survey map (187), a rain jacket, 4 boost bars, paracetemol, Imodium, toilet paper (all bases covered), phone and money. There was one essential item that the organisers did not tell me I’d need – a dictionary.

“FR downhill, TL over F just before the bifurcated birch tree”. Forgive me for my poor vocobl poor vacublu poor covabular for not knowin no words or nuthin but I had never come across that word before. I knew that “bi” meant two or twice, but was does that mean? And then I realised, what’s the point of worrying about it? I don’t even know what a birch tree looks like? I ran back up the hill and bumped into someone I overtook earlier and ran with him for a bit.

Checkpoint 4 – 34k 4.50 For some reason I thought, its OK, it’ll get better. Given that it was getting worse and worse its hard to justify in retrospect that logic.

I’m not going to finish this in daylight. On the plus side I get to use my new head lamp. On the minus side how the **** was I going to manage to navigate in the dark given that I’m so bad in the light?

I carried on some quite pleasant and runable paths. They were uphill but not very muddy. I passed another couple of people. These events are fantastic for chatting to others. They were armed with Garmins that informed them that we have actually done more than the advertised distance. In the end I think the measured distance was 55k, I did at least 5 more on top of that in detours. After chatting for a while I decided I wanted to run again and so I set off and left them. In doing so I entered a world of pain.

I misread an instruction. I was supposed to follow a path until it reached a track. For some reason I read “track” as “style”. I ran and ran and ran saying “Where’s this f*****g style? Out loud if I recall. Some time later I realised that I must have got it wrong so I went back. I found the two intrepid explorers from before trying to figure out where to go. Here I discover a new trail race motto. “If you’re gonna get lost, take as many with you as possible”.

We were briefly on the right path and then came to an ambiguous point in the route. We could not decide whether it was left or right. Left or Right? Right or Wrong? Can’t remember exactly. But it wasn’t right.

Looking back I feel like such an idiot. We were about a mile from the next checkpoint. The checkpoint was called “Crockham Hill”, yet we decided to go downhill. Serves us right for being idiots. We crossed a huge field (which was probably muddy, by then I could not tell where my body ended and the mud started) and found a couple of people walking. They were not in the race, but they did know the way to Crockham Hill. Would you believe it? It was back the way we came. I didn’t see that coming at all…..

At this point it was getting dark and we were all walking. I could have run but I thought what’s the point? I’ll just get lost quicker.

Checkpoint 5 – 42.9k 7.25

I came here with a reasonably good time as a goal. I now just want to leave Kent alive. The rest of it is downhill. Lovely. We took a detour along a road that was going to Edenbridge, the place where we had to end up. I knew how to get there from the train station so in theory if we follow the signs to Edenbridge we’ll make it.

And make it we did. I arrived in a glorious time of 8.27. Not quite what I was expecting but I realised that this was the first race I’d done for ages where I didn’t know what to expect.

I was asked to take my muddy shoes off before entering the building. I said I already have. Those are my actual feet. “Oh”, she said, “use plenty of talc”.

So it finally finished. The hardest race I have ever done. Though, the last part it was no longer a race. Not with each other anyway.

Words I may live to regret……

On the train back to London whilst reflecting on my day of hardship I could not get this thought out of my mind…

45 miles on a flat walkway beside a canal?

Easy.