When I ran the Hangman ultra, the course followed a section of the Testway walking route. I liked it so I looked it up after the race. It runs from Linkenholt down to Totton (just outside Southampton). Soon after I came across the Testway Ultra by Andover Trail Events and added it to the list of things to do.
Darryl signed up to the race with me and we decided to park a car at the the finish so we could make our own way back to the start rather than faff with timings of the shuttle bus service offered. We stayed overnight in Andover (proper shit hole) where we saw things we’d never seen before. A very odd place. On the morning of the race we drove over to the Linkenholt Activity Centre for about 7:30. After a straightforward registration we sat in the car to keep and waited until everyone started lining up just before 8 before joining them. The morning had a bitterly cold chill to it with a crisp wind blowing hard.
Colder than it looked
The first 10miles of the route was a loop out of the Activity Centre and up over to Combe Hill where the Combe gibbet is. I remembered this well from the Hangman Ultra where the gibbet was the ‘turnaround’ point. There were a few small hills on this loop and we quickly racked up pretty much all of the elevation of the course before the first aid station when we arrived back at the Activity Centre.
Combe Gibbet
We stopped briefly to eat some cocktail sausage and empty a few small stones from my shoe. On leaving the aid station we re-joined the Test Way and followed it south to Longparish. I knew this whole section from the Hangman Ultra too. We’d pass through little villages, farms, up a few little climbs and follow single track footpaths along the top of the hills.
There was another aidstation after about 10 more miles where we ate more cocktail sausages (if you’re not a meat eater, the aid stations on this event aren’t designed for you!) and carried on to Longparish. I kept recognising points of interest that triggered memories and recalled the section arriving into Longparish. We carried on through and upon leaving the village we got chatting to two guys who’d arranged an ‘unofficial, bonus’ aid station outside their house. They had all sorts including pizza. This was by far the best of all the aid stations. We stocked up when they told us it was still about 5 miles to the next official aid station. So this section was the longest of them all. We needed the bonus stop as it was now very hot, almost 20 degrees and we were starting to drink a lot more fluid that need been used to in the colder weeks preceding the race.
scenic
Leaving Longparish we had a few miles of very scenic trails with more beautiful villages, countryside trails and open commons. Eventually we came to the next aid station, joked with the volunteers for a few minutes and fuelled up for the ‘second half’ of the race. The 30 miles we had so far covered had been varying in terms of terrain and undulating throughout. The next 20 miles would be pretty much dead flat the whole way to the finish line.
After a few kilometres we came into Stockbridge and joined a straight gravel track running parallel to the main road and river. It was hard going. We covered about 12 miles on this path breaking it up into a run walk strategy. Our legs ached and our muscles were tightening with the lack of variation and general fatigue setting in.
Test way!Painfully flat
For hours we had been entertaining ourselves with a guessing game. One of us would think of an actor and the other had to guess using nothing but clues based on films they had been in and characters they had portrayed. By now we were both struggling and finding it hard to think of actors or mixing up clues and characters. It passed the time for many hours and kept us going though!
All smiles
Thankfully we did leave the gravel track and spent a short while running on softer ground through grassy fields before reaching another aid station. Here I managed to knock a whole box of brownies and flapjacks onto the floor. I felt so bad. We didn’t hang around long after that! Whilst at the aid station a load of runners came in shortly behind us. It messed with my mind a bit. I felt like we’d had a strong section and hadn’t seen many other runners. Whilst on the gravel trail, then all of a sudden loads passed us and I felt a bit deflated. Darryl was right though, it made no difference to us nor our adventure. For a while we followed two other runners, One in red and one in purple. We enjoyed Their little battle and followed closely as they kept leapfrogging each other for a few miles. We were all shuffling and walking now. There wasn’t any speed involved!
Thankfully the trails were much nicer once we’d left that dreaded gravel path behind. We followed single track trails through fields, woodlands and alongside the rivers all the way down to Romsey and the M27. Here we had a final aid station which we knew was only a few miles to the finish. It was a good boost. We were exhausted now, sun kissed from the exceptionally warm weekend and drained from the flat terrain. We plodded on.
the boardwalk at the Lower Test Nature Reserve
After red top guy missed a turn we found ourselves in-between him and the purple top guy. There were some overgrown bramble covered trails as we made our way onto the Lower Test nature reserve and ran over the boardwalk and into Totton. Once we got through Testvale park we were clapped into the finish line as we ran around the library and into the finish at Empire Hall. We took a picture by the bins before heading back to the car, getting changed and driving all the way back to the start to collect the other car.
Finishing by the bins
It was an enjoyable day on the Test Way and great as always to catch up with Darryl, push the body on a 50mile run and enjoy and experience somewhere new. The organisation was good and the course exceptionally well marked.
After a long week of travelling ‘up North’ with work, I dropped by Nick’s on the way back through London, borrowed his car and drove to Carl’s and then back to mine. A quick pizza, unpacking the week’s bag and hastily packing a bag for the run (including ripping the zip off my Salomon pack) and it was straight to bed ready for an early wake up.
We left home just before 6am to get to Queen Elizabeth Country Park for 7am, a whole hour before the race was due to start. To our frustration we were told the car parking was already full and we needed to use the public parking a few hundred metres away. When we got there that too was full and we had to drive further along and park near Gravel Hill. It was a whole 30 mins later by the time we got back to register. I was a little frustrated by the situation. The race organisers did email and mention parking could overflow and that we’d need to use the public parking. But to have both car parks already full an hour before the start wasn’t expected. Clearly they haven’t secured enough for the size of the event.
Carl is there too I promise!
Anyway… moaning aside, onwards. Registration was brief and we now only had to wait a short while in the ice cold morning before the race started. It was a small group of runners in the 50km, as it was the 50mile race that started 30 mins before us. We started right at the back of the group as we ran through the start arch and back down towards where the car was parked. Here in QECP we went up into the forests near the main visitor centre before crossing over to and up Gravel Hill and the first of many many climbs of the day.
As we ran through QECP the trails were mostly gravel and hard packed. As we left the park we had a number of long road sections connecting between short trails. We both started to regret our choice of aggressive footwear expecting more mud and softer ground conditions.
Hard packed trails
It was a nice start though and whilst cold, the short sharp hills helped us warm up quickly as we made our way slowly through the pack. Time moved quite quickly in the cold, grey misty mornings as we talked away and caught up on the months of life changes since we last saw each other. After about 10km we passed the first (last) 50 mile runner who was walking slowly with the sweepers a few paces behind him. We assumed he was injured and pushing on to the next aid station as he was moving so slowly. The course had 4 aid stations and the first was 11 miles or so in. I liked this. It’s always nice to get a good chunk of the race done before the first stop!. We left the trails and out into the village of Rowlands Castle. In a small hall the aid station gave us warmth, albeit little else. The event emails talked fondly of the quality and quantity of food options that would be available at aid stations. This one certainly didn’t reflect that. A solitary portion of cake, small paper cups (think sauce portions at a fast food chain size) of two or three crisps, a few skittles and singular wrapped ‘celebration’ chocolates (why these were separated into paper cups I do not know!). It was a poor show. I assume the 50 mile runners had feasted well before us. Thankfully we didn’t have long, just 4 miles, to the next one. We ate a few snacks, refilled waters and headed off.
Carl setting the pace
The stop cooled us down so the gloves were on and we moved with purpose again to warm up as we traced back through the village. We passed Jamie, who I’d met on several other events too. He was braving the elements for the 50miler. My memory of the course soon becomes as blurry as the race conditions. I recall the route becoming much more trail and less road and our aggressive footwear came in more favourably. We passed many runners who were moving more slowly with the muddy, slippery conditions. The next aid station came so quickly and was much better with many savoury options and was better stocked than the previous. We took a few moments and chatted with the volunteers before moving on as it was outside and cold.
The next section was 7 miles long and we made it longer with a bit of a navigation mishap. We’d been running through a big open space passing many 50 miler runners and were discussing how we hadn’t reached the course split yet. We talked about the extra 30km loop they had to make and whether we were glad we weren’t doing that course. Shortly after the fields, on a single track we came to a trail cross road and the path opened up. We followed runners straight and up the hill ahead. I remember looking at walker with their dogs to our right as we crossed the trails. We were deep in conversation. Further along as the hill levelled out we caught the attention of the runner ahead who missed the turn and helped him back on track. At this point we realised we were ourselves off track. He confirmed that there was a turn a while back for the 50km. Doh. Damnit. We back tracked, passing loads of runners we’d passed before walking up the hill in the opposite direction. And there it was, a little over half a km back, at the damn cross Road in the trails where the dog walker was. We’d missed two very big and clear direction signs for the course split. Back on track we laughed at our mistake and carried on down the trail on a lovely descent. We caught back up with many of the 50k runners we’d passed previously. One even comment how we kept overtaking her. Our explanation made her laugh.
The next aid station at Compton came about and once again we were indoors and had a chance to warm up. Here there were all the promised goods and various sandwiches too which were very much needed. We ate a few then headed back out in the now very wet day. The misty rain had been getting progressively heavier throughout the day and soon we had to make the decision to cover our wet bodies with a waterproof coat. Whilst we wouldn’t be dry, we did start to get warmer finally. Here the course took us up higher onto the South Downs and visibility was piss poor. It was hard to spot the trail markers so we followed our gps instead and were soon running down a very wet, slippery steep hill. There were loads of slid marks from runners who’d clearly slipped their way down. Our great grippy trainers kept us upright though. We were on the last stretch now and the final 10 miles ticked off quickly as we continued chatting non stop all day. The undulating terrain forced us to a run walk approach which I was most grateful for. For hours we hadn’t caught up with any other runners but knew we had a group not far behind us.
Awesome views
We kept a pretty decent pace and passed through the final aid station at South Harting, after winding our way through the village streets, quite quickly, keen to get finished and make our way home. A few km later we passed through the lovely little village of Buriton and began a long climb back into forests and realised we’d made our way back to QECP. Before we knew it we were tracing our steps from earlier in the day.
The last few kms were longer than we’d remembered. We came down near Grave Hill, passed the parked car and onward to the finish where we came into the event space to cheers from a few volunteers, we took our medals and headed straight into the tent to get warm. A warm soup with bread and zero % beer perked us up before we had the cold 10 min walk back to the car. With freezing hands we got changed outside before driving home with the heating on.
It was a great day out with Carl. The conditions and weather made for a tough day and it took longer than I thought. It was a decent event and whilst well organised I thought a few things could have been improved (the parking situation annoyed me and the course markings could have been better for a ‘fully signposted’ course). That was the first race of the year and I’m excited now for the planned adventures that await!
Every now and then I get that itch. There’s space in my life when one running adventure ends and the next isn’t planned or any time soon. I get restless. I need something no matter how small to fill the gap.
Earlier in the year I’d seen this gap coming and noticed that the Winter Chilterns Ridge 50km by Runaway Racing was organised to fit nicely around this time. I mentioned it to a few others, but ended up signing up alone. I did a Runaway Racing event many years ago, the Eden Valley, which I loved. So knew this would be a great and well organised event.
It was an early wake up to get to Berkhamsted for about 7:30, giving time to register and get ready for the 8am start. After registering, whilst pinning my number on I saw a few familiar faces. First Mark, one of the Shannon brothers and then Jay and Cat. We had a brief chat before Chris from Runaway Racing set us off on our way.
It’s Jay!
We started off with a punchy little climb of about 50m or so as we left the cricket club, which to be honest, took the breath out of me. I’m not sure what it was, but I immediately felt ‘unfit’. I think it was the brisk, cold morning and initial stampede of runners which I got caught up in leaving the start line. Thankfully it went straight back down hill and I soon found a better rhythm and pace to settle in to.
uphill struggles
The route was delicious. We started out in fields and then weaved our way through lush forest trails making our way towards Tring. Here the paths opened up into the hilly countryside and we were presented with the early morning views. Tring can be a bit lumpy at times, but the route avoided some of the bigger climbs available. The participants started to spread out a little as we followed the undulating trails before hitting the first aid station. We were about 18km in by now and I was quite peckish (breakfast around 5am was a long time ago!). I stopped for a fair bit and scoffed down plenty of Jaffa cakes, crisps, sweets and party rings. Love a party ring! I briefly saw Jay and carried on.
From here we passed through Tring and joined some forest trails that would take us through Tring Park and over to Wendover. This section was all quite new to me. I’ve run a few times in both Tring and Wendover but never the bit in between. We’d run on both the Ridgeway and Chilterns Way paths. I really enjoyed this section. It started with a big hug from Zuzana who was volunteering and I hadn’t seen since this time last year when we ran the Yorkshire 3 Peaks together. I spent a bit of time running with Jay and another runner who we kept leap frogging with. The chatty miles through crisp forests with trails covered in golden leaves was refreshing. We had a nice long uphill section and eventually came to a fork in the paths where we split off to run downhill to the second aid station at Wendover. After more fuelling it was a brisk hike back up the hill to the fork and off in the other direction.
Forest trailsLeafy smiles
Most of this next section I ran alone as the field spread out more. Jay had stormed ahead before the second aid station and I just couldn’t keep up. With 30km done I was aching and my left ankle was quite sore (I rolled it on a run the week before). I tried to block it out and walked any inclines and tried to take it easy and maintain a decent pace. Somewhere here I caught up with a runner who was hobbling through cramp. He reassured me he was fine and then we both laughed as I cramped up as soon as I passed him. I made a note to take on some salts at the next aid station! Approaching Wiggington there was a very long straight section through forests that led us into the final aid station. I took time to keep fuelled and stuffed plenty of salty crisps into my gob, rearranged my back pack and set off on the last 10km to the finish.
There was a nice long, gentle downhill section before we steadily climbed up hill for about 2km. I walked this and tried to hold back some energy for the rest of the route which would mostly be downhill to the finish line back at Bekhamsted Cricket Club. We had some undulating trails alongside fields and through more forests. My mind started to question where the finish was as we’d run down the hill we climbed at the very start. I couldn’t figure it out, I was wondering where in the distance that hill would be, before suddenly realising I was already on it, half way down! I picked up the pace and ran the last few corners a little harder, into the cricket club and across the finish line.
Over that finish line
I went inside, grabbed my bad and saw Jay and the other runner I’d shared some miles with. I darted straight inside for a shower and to warm up. It was the coldest shower of my life! I was shaking trying to get my clothes on afterwards. But I felt so much better for it. I went of to get some Pizza, but frustratingly they’d already run out, so instead headed straight for the train and began the journey home.
Just like my last experience on the Eden Valley ultra, this was a great event organised by Runaway Racing. Really high quality organisation!
The Shere Marathon is organised by the Surrey Trek and Run shop. A few friends had mentioned it and so I signed up with short notice with Carl and Natalia as a team. It would be a good chance to run together before out next event. We arrived early into Shere for an easy start with a small field of runners and a modest start line which we joined right at the back after saying hello to some other friends at the registration area.
ready to roll
The start saw us run a lap of the playing field, following someone with a smoke/flare, before joining the trail and beginning the first climb out of Shere up to the North Downs Way (NDW). A lot of the route would be along the NDW and the Greensand Way trails. Both are trails I know pretty well and I was certain I’d run all of the route before at different times previously. On this occasion we’d be running a loop clockwise, Initially along the North Downs then dropping off and passing through Wotton towards the Greensand Way.
From Wotton the route is very similar to that of the Freedom Racing Hurtwood 50 as we tackle the three hills of Leith hill, Holmbury hill and pitch hill. Unlike Hurtwood though we carried on to Chilworth and back towards the North Downs Way. The final climb on this course takes you up the ‘drain pipe’ path to St Martha’s and then we run along the NDW to Newlands Corner (which was very busy!) and back to Shere.
Over all the day was great with perfect weather, if maybe a little on the warm side. It had been a while since I’d run many of these trails but the memories soon came back. The three ‘peaks’ of Surrey we navigated fairly quickly and easily. Then the more rocky terrain started to slow us a little as we made our way through Paature wood and Hurtwood. We made one small navigation area but otherwise made it round without any issues. Personally I don’t like the section of the NDW after St Martha’s as it’s flat and runable, getting back to this section reminded me its my least favourite part of the route. So it was a bit of a slog back to the finish and then subsequently going down the narrow hill back to the recreation ground was hard going on the tired legs.
Overall we had a great day and it was a lovely little day out ahead of the next race in Bulgaria…
In my search to fill a gap I came across the ‘Mendip Marauder’ which is a 50 mile event along the Mendip Way from Frome to ‘Weston’ (Weston-Super-Mare) organised by the excellent Albion Running. I signed up and planned a weekend getaway to Weston… The organisers arranged for transport from the finish to the start which made the logistics very easy. I’d stay overnight on Friday, get the bus to the start and run back to Weston.
At 6am on the Saturday I was sitting comfortably at the front of the bus with a modest number of other runners. We had about an hours journey and the time passed by quite quickly as I tried to sleep a bit more whilst occasionally chatting with the runners around me as we talked about the races and events we’d done and, joked with the driver, who was getting frustrated at the sensor on the bus that was telling him he was ‘over the white line’ on the country roads (no way he wouldn’t be over the line in a bus!). One of the runners was a chap called Dan whom, unbeknown to us both at the time, I’d spend the whole day with.
Bonnet briefingStartlineInitial fields in Frome
When we arrived, we alighted the bus on quiet side street in Frome where Dave, the race director, was waiting for us. From the bonnet of his Corsa (I think) he preceded to register the runners and hand out race numbers. It made me chuckle as it couldn’t get more lowkey than that. It was super efficient though (who needs a table when a car bonnet will do the job) and he greeted each one of us with humour, telling runners their number was their finishing position (unfortunately for the number 49 runner!). After this we hung around for about an hour until the race briefing. Here Dave continued to entertain and had the 49 runners and few spectators in stitches as he told jokes of the calibre you’d find in a wedding speech. As he said, there wasn’t much to say about the race, and he just kept on cracking jokes for ten minutes (do you know the one about what ‘Love’ in tennis means?) before concluding with “I’ll leave you in silence now until we start”. About a minute later he’d counted us down and set us off on our adventure along the Mendip Way.
We began with a jog up a slight hill and along some fields as made our way onto the East Mendip Way and out of Frome. After the fields the pack of runners started separating as we ran in single file alongside a river which felt enchanted. Really dark, atmospheric woodlands weaved along an old river with stone formations. I loved it, I love that initial feeling of freedom in a race when I run somewhere new to me.
Somewhere along here in the first few kms I caught up with Dan (remember him from the bus…) and we started chatting again. Dan is a local to Weston and this was his second time running the race. Besides being excellent company throughout, he doubled up and played the dutiful tour guide for me for 11 hours. Throughout the day Dan would tell me where we were, where we were going, what we could see, pointed out landmarks in the distance and gave me insights and history for the many points of interest we passed along the Mendip Way. It was brilliant! It was amazing to find out and hear all this information as I otherwise would have had my head down looking at the trails and not really absorbed where I was and the scenery around me! Thanks Dan.
Fields and cowsfields and cornhills (later in the day)
For the first 20 miles or so of the race we followed the follow the East Mendip Way. The trails took us through fields (including a huge corn field) and forests, ascended up onto the Mendip hills and gave us spectacular views of the surrounding area. Like that first few kms, it all felt very old and ancient. It was also super peaceful with hardly anyone about other than the occasional dog walker. The trails where ours for the day! After what felt like no time at all we’d passed through the first aid station (outside the Poacher’s Pocket pub in Shepton Mallet) where we were supported by fabulous volunteers and made our way around the market town. The race markings started to get a bit ‘iffy’ here and we followed one off in the wrong direction. the direction we were heading did not align with the GPX route so we back tracked to the marking we’d followed. Through a hedge I could see another marking in the other direction. I went and adjusted the rogue marking and it had clearly been moved, it was loosely tied on a tree branch and you could see that the tape had previously been tied in a knot (probably on something else). Back on track we followed the route towards Wells.
Wells Cathedral
Wells, despite being small, is a city. As Dan pointed out to me, historically settlements needed to have a Cathedral to gain city status (although this is no longer a requirement). And Wells has a cathedral. We ran down into the city, alongside and around the Bishops Palace and Gardens into the city centre. Here there was a market on and the streets were bustling with activity as we passed through the city walls to the Cathedral. It was, as most Cathedrals are, spectacular with Morris Dancers outside doing their thing. I made a mental note to come back here one day and explore the city. Outside the Cathedral we stopped for a quick photo and then carried on to the next aid station where we had the full service from the volunteers as we were the only runners there. We stuffed our faces before making the short climb back to the trails.
A few kms later we were running by the Wookey Hole which is a series of caves and adventure activities. Dan told me all about them and the legend of the Witch of the Wookey Hole, whom as legend goes was blamed for any and everything that went wrong in the area. The whole area was full of interesting places and next up we ran through Ebbor Gorge and woods with fascinating rock features as we began to climb back up to the Mendip hills and the West Mendip Way. The West Mendip Way is more ‘lumpy’ than the East Mendip Way and the route now had us running up and down along the hills.
After a nice long descent we passed a few runners and made our way to Draycott, Cheddar, the 3rd of the 5 Aid stations along the route. Like the two before this was expertly staffed and incredibly well stocked with a huge range of sweet and savoury options. The volunteers were all fantastic, full of energy and enthusiasm and even tolerated my terrible jokes and humour. We rested a little longer here to make sure we’d eaten plenty and I spent a few minutes taping up some patches on my feet that were feeling a little sore. After I gorged myself on many jam sandwiches and prawn cocktail crisps I set back out and could see Dan ahead of me on one of the biggest climbs of the day.
Climb out of Draycott
From here the route took as along the hills just outside of Cheddar and we passed through Cheddar Gorge and near the famous rock formations. Naturally here it started to get a but busier as we encountered more tourists and walkers out on the trails as we made our way up and down on the Mendip hills. Now the weather was cooler and the sky a little grey and overcast, but up on top of the hills the breeze was very welcomed as it cooled us down in the muggy temperatures. The trails here were beautiful and there were plenty of view points that Dan pointed out to me including Glastonbury Tor way off in the distance and Cheddar Reservoir below us. We were still chatting the whole way about our lives and all things. We had a good ol’ grump about life, challenges and people. We aligned on many things especially people’s inconsiderate and entitled nature. Those ‘bastard people’ we kept saying and chuckling to ourselves. Throughout I was amazed at how calm and happy Dan was. He has such a cool head on his shoulders and positive outlook to dealing with challenges that life throws at you.
ViewsMore viewsEven more views
We dropped off the hills at Shipham and were greeted with the penultimate aid station, where I had the special service of having jam sandwiches tailor made for my liking! The next section was the shortest of the route as we made our way to Webbington. Like much of the course before it though it was very scenic and had plenty of ‘ye olde style’ boundary walls and stiles to climb over. I swear as we progressed these became higher and higher and increasingly more difficult to clamber over (nothing to do with my agility I’m sure!) At the last aid station we were greeted with photographs and the most systematic and organised aid station you could find. Leaving the aid station we made our way across the M5 motorway and started the climb up to Badger Hill, the last of the big climbs on the route. Up top Dan made sure I took a moment to admire the view of Weston and the sea (finish line!) in the distance, but to also turn back and look and appreciate the ‘ridge’ of the Mendip hills we’d run along. He was right, it was great to take a moment and let it all sink in. Even in the cloudy evening, it was a beautiful view back over Somerset.
Final AidstationArriving into Uphill
We continued our journey over the last few km of the Mendip hills from Badger Hill the route was mostly downhill as the track slowly became gravel paths which became tarmac road and eventually the sand as we arrived at Uphill beach and the very modest finish ‘line’ (sign). A small crowd clapped us in and Dave handed us our medals and congratulated us. He offered us both a lift back to the car park where we’d taken the bus from in the morning. We declined though as, with my expert tour guide, I now knew it was quicker to walk the few kms back along the beach to the hotel.
Dan!Another colourful medal
The Mendip Way is absolutely beautiful with incredible views, varied terrain and lovely villages and towns along the way (and many excellent pubs according to Dan!). I really, really enjoyed this run and thought that Dave and Albion Running were bloody fantastic and put on an incredibly well supported event. I’ve got my eye on some of their other events in Somerset now!
The come down from some epic adventures this year has hit me hard. On returning from the Eiger Trail I had 6 weeks before my next event (The Pirin ultra trail in Bulgaria). So I went looking to ‘fill the hole’. I found two events that were reasonably priced, logistically easy to get to by train, on weekends when I had nothing planned and would take me running in places I’d not run before. So I signed up for both. The first being the Big Pilgrimage…
The Big Pilgrimage is run by Big Feat Events. I’d not done one of their races before. There are different distances on offer, but I signed up to the 54k which started in Southampton and finishes at Fort Nelson just outside of Portchester.
The night before the race I stayed over in Southampton. I’d never been to Southampton before. What a shit hole. It makes Swansea look fancy! Glad I now know that I’ve never any need to go to Southampton! The next morning I made the short walk to the start line for 7am and arrived just as the buses were unloading runners who’d parked at the finish and taken the extra option of a bus to the start. Registration was rapid and we were handed our first sticker. Sticker? Yep, the niche thing about this race is that your race number has boxes and you collect stickers along the way to place on your race bib. Each sticker is at one of the points of interest along the route. I quite like that idea and it provides the information to go back and learn a little about where you’d run.
Startline selfie
All stickered up we went to the start line, had our race instructions and then set off. The first few kilometres were all road as we made our way passed the ports for cruise ships and the Isle of Wight ferries and made our way out of Southampton. We crossed over the Itchen bridge (grabbing another sticker) and made our way to the coast.
As we reached the coast we had a short paved section before finally hitting the trails. Not long after two speedy marathon runners ran passed. Geeez they were quick (they started ten minutes after us). From here the trails weaved through woodlands passed Netley Abbey and Victoria park, where Royal Victoria Country Park chapel is, with more stickers added to the bib. A few more marathon runners passed (after a big gap from the front two!) as we passed through more woodlands and made our way back to the coastal path. Before long we were running along a shingle beach. That sapped the energy and tired the legs pretty quickly. It was refreshing though running alongside the water, hearing the calming sounds of the sea. Not many of my runs take me along coastal paths!
Shingle beachthe Sea!
After another few kilometres we reached the first aid station at the river crossing. I’d been expecting and waiting this. Another feature of the race is that you need to cross the river on a boat. Oddly not that niche for me as I’ve had a boat crossing on my first 100 miler – the Tarawera 100 in New Zealand. I also had to get a boat across the fjords in Norway for the start of the Lofoten Arctic Triple. Still it was pretty fun. The organisers had hired the small pink ferries to ship runners across the river Hamble to the other side.
the ferryPink Ferry!bye bye little fella
Once over it was more running along the coastal path. After a few kilometers there was a confusingly placed event marker. I followed another guy up what admittedly I too thought was the right path. As we started climbing a small hill though I sensed we’d gone wrong. There is very little elevation on the route (just 400m total) and pretty much all of it is in the second half, a quarter of the race elevation is in the last 2k to the finish! I checked my watch which confirmed my thoughts. I yelled after the other runner but he was lost in his music. I screamed so loud maybe 5 times and he still didn’t hear. Thankfully he eventually heard me. We made our way back down and stopped a few more runners who’d made the same mistake.
We were then back on shingle beaches for a while. I was leading with a small group of 3 or 4 behind me when there was another suspect marker. I chose the wrong path, but persisted as I could see on my watch that it ran parallel and there were points to rejoin not far ahead. I kept going, then, when I went to rejoin there was a photographer. He said a few others had made the same mistake. I carried on, now on the correct route but noticed I was alone. The others must have stuck to the other path which I could now see didn’t rejoin anywhere else and would turn off in a different direction.
Back on the shingle beach
I soon came out on a water stop at about a half marathon distance and the marshal directed me along a footpath. After a while I was catching some other runners when I realised it was all those who had been behind me. That path must have cut a shortcut on the corner I’d made along the actual route. We were now running alongside the marshes of Titchfield Haven and leaving the coast behind as we headed inland. The next few km to Titchfield Abbey was tough going. So flat and straight. I told myself to keep going to 30k then I can relax the pace a bit. At Titchfield was the next aid station then a few kms of road, crossing the M27 before back into some woodlands and fields for a few km. It all started to blur in my memories but I know I hit that 30km mark and stuck with it and didn’t let up on the pacing too much. I wasn’t feeling too bad, albeit all the running was starting to make my legs ache. I kept going and soon came across a marshal who directed me up a steep hill. Bless, so many people were trying to be helpful and warn of hills etc., but nothing on this route was actually a hill. This one was about 2m high and just a verge to join a footpath. Not long after the ‘hill’ the third aid station appeared. I was glad of some coke and watermelon. Here the ultra and marathon routes separated.
On the ultra route it got a little dull and much harder. We were on a flat footpath that was straight. It was where kilometers come to extend their life. Each km seemed to grow in length. On and on it went. It was exhausting. Thankfully despite a hot sunny day, this was all sheltered in the trees. I kept going though and I only took one short walking break but otherwise ran the whole 8km of the footpath section. When we left it, and had a short incline I was very pleased for the walk. I was now 40km in and ready to do a run/walk to the end. I was optimistic that the change in terrain would force this approach for me.
Never ending flatness
We were now heading back south towards the finish line. There were varying sections of narrow woodland footpaths. Overgrown sections. Open fields and recently ploughed fields. It helped a lot having the variation of terrain. I collected more stickers along the way and passed another water stop where I had a good chat with the volunteers about tattoos. The varying terrain continued and I walked regularly. Since starting the footpath of doom I’d been pretty isolated but I was enjoying the peace on my run. Before I knew it I arrived at the final aid station, on the side of a narrow road with a sole lady tending to our needs. She was lovely and so helpful. Two other runners then showed up and joined me. I stayed a bit longer here eating loads of orange slices as the two others sped on.
After leaving the aidstation it was back onto single track paths and fields as we made our way along the remaining 9km of the race. At one point we had a climb through a field that was actually an incline, it was really taking us uphill! I enjoyed that. We also crossed several fields with cows and electric fences. This part of the run was much more enjoyable (with the exception of the few km of road before the field with the incline). A steady walk/run was seeing me through at a decent average pace just above 6min/km.
Kind of went uphill a little!
As we reach Southwick I caught up with one of the runners who had passed me and another lady whom I had no idea where she came from. It completely threw me before I realised she was on the marathon and the routes had rejoined. After collecting the penultimate sticker the guy politely asked my age. He was wondering about age categories and hoping to podium in his category. Cheeky fucker though, as Nick would say “he’s three days older than God”. I thought he was much older than me and he was pleased to hear I was only 40 and that he could let me go without a fight.
The final ‘ascent’the Finish line
We had about 2 km left now and one last ‘climb’. To be fair, this was a whopping 80m of elevation over a kilometre. I know, punishing. Once I reached it, it was nice to walk pretty much to the end. The climb was diagonal across a recently plough field so the terrain underfoot wasn’t exactly pleasant. After the climb there was a short few hundred metres of dry footpath to go. The tower at Fort Nelson came into view and then behind it the flags of the finish line. At the finish we got our last sticker ‘Fort Nelson’ and a very colourful medal.
Finish!Gotta catch ’em all
I had a great time despite the race being somewhat flatter than I’m now more accustomed to (and enjoy). The flatness certainly made it tough going and my legs were aching afterwards (thankfully no wobbly walk though). The organisers were incredible and have put on a really excellent event. There were so many marshals throughout. I’ll definitely have to try some of their other events!
The Hampshire Hoppit is a marathon (and half and 10km distances) event in its 9th (as of 2024) iteration. I think I saw it advertised on Facebook and thought “I’ll have a bit of that”. Even though it’s a week before one of the more daunting events I’ll run in 2024, I roped some mates in and signed up…
We made the drive over in the morning and arrived at the start line with about 15 mins to spare. The event seemed a little larger than I expected (a very detailed 25 page pre-race document containing all the race information was the first sign that this wasn’t a small event!) and there were loads of people gathered around the tents at the start line (which was beautifully located on the side of a hill). We registered, repacked our bags and began attaching our bib numbers as the race director wished everyone well and stated the race.
The group of 300 or so runners slowly crossed the line as Carl and I hurried Nick along as he thumbed about with his race number. We joked with a lady before we crossed the line as she flashed her ‘last runner’ vest and told us she can’t start until we do. Finally Nick got his shit together and we crossed the start line.
Back with the pack
The main group of runners were plodding along at a very conservative pace and we caught up with the pack after a few hundred metres as we began the gentle climb away from the start. We proceeded to make our way up the field slowly as we passed the first photographer of the day. Up ahead we could see the lead runners disappearing in the distance. As we chatted away, the time passed by so quickly. Before we knew it we’d done 10 miles, then half a marathon and then passed the 20 mile marker. The race was over so quickly.
From start to finish our adventure was uneventful (thankfully!). We ran together and chatted the whole way without problems. Towards the end Nick got struck by a case of cramp in the hamstring which almost immobilised him, but otherwise we made great progress and finished in about 5 hours, which was quicker than planned.
Wide paths
The route was delightful with amazing rolling hills and green fields. We joked that the fields here felt posher than those back home! If it’s possible for a field to be posh?! There were plenty of single tracks through forests, wider trails through ploughed fields and the occasional short road section. Despite the heavy rain the day before the ground was solid and a joy to run on. Towards the end of the race we briefly ran a narrow path alongside a river and had to run through a deep puddle in the last mile. We groaned at having wet feet so late in the race.
Sun and smiles
The aid stations were numerous (alternating between water only and water with snacks) albeit basic, and there were an abundance of volunteers marshalling along the whole course. They were almost at every turn and intersection cheering us on and directing us. Road crossings were also manned with highway maintenance stopping traffic to allow runners to pass. It was very well organised and everyone was so friendly and helpful. I remember joking with one volunteer in the last km on our way up the final climb as I asked her why she was laughing and she said back “because you three have been jabbering away the whole time”. She wasn’t wrong!
Down to the finish
As we crossed the finish line (which is back where we started – its a looped course) we were greeted by volunteers who gave us our medals and a finishers pint glass. We also got a ‘goody bag’ with crisps, sweets, chocolate, popcorn, a coaster and a pen with the race logo on it. There was a finishers tent too where we could use our pint glass to get free beer! I think it is fair to say you get your monies worth with this one! We sat down and enjoyed the views from the side of the hill as we regained our energy.
Overall, what a great event. Low-key and all about the local community and runners. The trails are beautiful out in Hampshire.
It has taken far too long, but finally I got around to visiting Matt out in the Netherlands for a run on trails more local to him. Over the weekend Matt and Lara treated us like royalty, putting us up for the night, feeding us, driving us to the race and putting up with our tourist commentary.
The race was the 50km Drielandenpunt Trail in Vaals, in the southern part of the Netherlands, in a park area known as Drielandenpunt, which is the three country point. This is where the three borders of the Netherlands, Belgium and Germany meet. The race is mostly in the Netherlands but the course twists and weaves its way into Belgium at several points and also tracks along the border with Germany.
The night before we stayed nearby and had the shittest risotto known to man. It was a real talking point that someone is capable of making such a bad risotto. Alas, being the non confrontational type we ate it and kept our mouths shut. After all it did serve the purpose of a meal and it’s not like we need high quality food before running an ultra. In the morning we made the short drive up the ‘hill’ to Vaalserbeg which is the highest point in the Netherlands at about 322m, near the three country point. Here is where the race would start and finish. I suppose not many running races will both start and finish at the highest point in a country! We registered and messed around taking pictures on the tri-point where the borders of the three countries meet, crossing between the countries and back in a matter of seconds. We then said goodbye to Natalia who’d start her 30km race an hour later. After the quickest starting line up ever, Matt and I set off.
Within minutes of starting the run I was overheating. It was a wet day with a constant drizzle of rain, but, with just the wind jacket on I was too hot, so opted to continue the run in just the t-shirt and sleeves (I probably gave myself a cold as a result, but it was very stuffy in the forests). It was instantly noticeable how, muddy the trails were, how narrow the forest paths were and how surprisingly hilly it was. With a total elevation of 1400m elevation across the course, it was very much a series of short steep climbs and descents with very few flat bits in between. The course, mud aside, is rather runnable although my fitness levels meant I didn’t run a single one of the hills! The first part of the course was a 14km loop to the south. We had some great views of some very grey, overcast skies (‘m sure on a better day there are views to be enjoyed) and made the first of numerous dips into Belgium. This was my first time visiting Belgium. I think it counts as a visit!
Towards the end of the loop we left the forest and ran (trudged!) through some very muddy fields. I laughed as the person ahead kept falling over whilst my Inov8 X-Talons were excellent for ensuring I stayed on two feet, I was so glad with my choice of shoe! We then had a one of the bigger climbs (at just shy of 100m) back up to Vaalserbeg and the start line which would now serve as our first aid station.
From here it was more of the same with forest trails undulating as we ran alongside Germany. Drielandenpunt is a beautiful area with many, many intersecting trails for hiking and biking. It reminded me of the Surrey Hills area with endless twists, turns, short sharp descents and muddy climbs. Overtime the trails all blurred into one and it wasn’t long before I was completely disorientated and had no idea where we’d come from or which direction we were heading in.
After another 13km or so we arrived at the second check point where we were spoilt with ham and/or cheese sandwiches. These went down a treat and we both stuffed our faces and enjoyed a few moments of rest (although standing around we got very cold very quickly). By now we had been passed by a lot of runners. It felt like nearly the whole field had passed us as well as many of the 3okm runners. We were enjoying the day though, chatting our way round the whole course and catching up (some how it had already had been 8 months since our last run together in Lofoten).
Throughout the day Matt was sharing all his knowledge and facts, particularly at key points on the course like when we ran through the vineyards and he gave me a crash course in the history of Dutch wine production. It was a welcome distraction from the muddy trails! Throughout the run I recall the course being fantastically marked and sign posted, the aid stations being well stocked and the ground being a slushy mud fest – there were several more fields that were really muddy and a few little picturesque towns that we weaved through connecting the trails together. After another 15km or so we’d made our way back to the second aid station location for our final stop. With a quick top up and refuel we set back out.
King of Facts
We were on the home stretch now and had finally stopped being overtaken by runners. We commented that we didn’t think that we overtook a single person in the race. Towards the end of the course that changed with a steep muddy descent causing a few other runners to have trouble descending. We sped and slid our way down and claimed about 4 places in one short movement. From here it was a gentle jog into the finish line where we passed with an American we’d shared a few moments with earlier in the day. The ‘international finish’ as the MC dubbed it as an Aussie, American and Welshman crossed the line together.
We opted to skip the ‘city wash’ showers and just throw on dry clothes to start the long journey back to Amsterdam as quickly as possible. This was hindered a little bit by the inaccessible finance system in the Netherlands where many stores don’t accept Visa or credit cards as a payment method. To buy a portion of chips we needed to call Matt and have him come pay for us!
Overall a thoroughly enjoyable weekend in the Netherlands and a great adventure in the forests. Drielandenpunt is worth a visit! Personally, after a few months of inactivity it was good to finally be back out and running long distances. Now I just need to find the fitness before the bigger events that are fast approaching….
As another calendar year comes to a close, its time for my annual self indulgent ‘look at me’ post. My diary entry if you like, reflecting on the last 12 months of running.
Looking back this year somehow feels a little different. Admittedly there is a little less motivation and enthusiasm in my words and also in ‘me’. There’s probably a few good reasons. Firstly injuries. These are becoming more frequent and a little harder to deal with, naturally this means my body is changing and there is some lack of satisfaction and ‘body confidence’ issues linked to this too. The last year has probably included the most amount of ‘down time’ from any of the last 5 years or so of running. It shouldn’t be a surprise to me because the variety of supplementary exercise and strength training I do has dropped significantly, the past few years of excessive running is probably having an impact and I am also getting older. I’ve also been doing this a while and I think a small part of the novelty of it all is wearing off. It isn’t quite the ‘been there, done that, have the t shirt’ (literally), but I am finding I am becoming more particular in what I want in events and races as the trail running landscape changes. And that too is probably a small part of my decreasing enthusiasm, even in the short time I’ve been running the trail running sport is changing and not always in a direction I agree with. Whilst I’m still fairly new to the sport, it has changed from what I first got involved in with social groups and shared passion and the sport is now becoming more and more commercialised and overcrowded. So the vibe is changing, and I’m changing too. That is ok though. Change is good and all being said, I haven’t withdrawn and am continuing as I always do (repeating the same mistakes also!)…
So looking back to where the year began and starting 2023 I was a little cautious. Despite finishing 2022 on the high of completing the Cheviot Goat, I was still very much aware of my healing broken ankle. Distance and speed were being restrained and I tried to train consistently but more conservatively with the trip to Trans Gran Canaria looming just a few weeks away. Those chains were torn off fairly quickly though thanks to the scheming of Paul and Darryl and in January we were in the Lake District running the George Fisher Tea Round – a 50km circular route joining up the peaks visible from the Abraham Tea shop at George Fisher shop in Kendal. It was brilliant. Such an incredible experience as the Lakes were covered in a thick blanket of snow for the weekend. I’ve never seen that much snow and it made for a glorious adventure. It was tough going but enjoyable and good practice for some of the events later in the year that were also likely to involve covering snow capped mountains. The ankle held up fine which boosted my confidence. The only concern being a short period of temporary blindness in my left eye during the later stages of the run and into the next morning. We put it down to ‘snow blindness’ once my vision was restored though and I didn’t think about it again.
A few weeks later and I was back in Trans Gran Canaria, 4 years after I first ran the 129km classic event. This would be a different experience as I’d be sharing the adventure with Paul and Darryl. Having company certainly made it more enjoyable and many of the ‘things ‘difficult’ parts I recalled were not as bad as I previously thought they were. That said, many parts I’d forgotten completely and I didn’t enjoy as much this time around! The changes to the route were overall more enjoyable I think and I was certainly glad the remaining distance after the river bed wasn’t as far as it was in 2019! We all came away a little beaten up by this event and its probably arguable whether we actually enjoyed it. TGC continues to blur the lines for me!
TGC completed with Paul and Darryl
In March I didn’t have a race planned, but I did make a trip to Snowdon for more running adventures with the ‘Running Addicts‘. Just like the Lakes two months earlier, North Wales was covered in snow and the weather was challenging. We had a lot of fun bounding down the trails passing hikers clambering on all fours with ice axes and crampons (completely unnecessary!). Unexpectedly this was another weekend of getting used to snowy conditions which I thought would come in handy later in the year.
In a little break from the usual, I actually took a holiday in May. Natalia and I spent a week in Malta which was lovely and a good chance to rest. Although we did finish the week with a trip to the Island of Gozo where we met Nick and Elise and, of course, ran a race – the Xterra 50km. A beautiful circumnavigation around the whole island. It was very hot and uncomfortable and we all struggled with the heat, particularly early on. However the views and landscape was beautiful (by far the best of the trip!) and we encouraged each other through to the finish. This was also a huge achievement for Elise as this was her first trail run and she sped around the 25km course.
Xterra Gozo
Later in May things stepped up a level. Two weeks after Malta it was off to Bran, Romania for the Transylvannia 100. I’d been looking forward to this one so much. After some last minute panic purchases (micro spikes!) we hit the trails. The race directors advice was clear – be prepared for bad weather, as there was far more snow cover than usual. The spikes were put to good use from very early on and I’m not sure we would have made it up the infamous ‘chimney’ without them. This was probably the steepest climb I’ve ever encountered on a race. Everything was going well, until it wasn’t. A fall and slide on the snowy mountain meant I broke both my (pretty new!) Leki poles just 30km in. It slowed my progress dramatically and put me into a foul (but determined!) mood. Being a little shock up from it all and not thinking clearly I made some terrible decisions to the race and my feet paid the price with awful blistering and trench foot. I hobbled to the finish line (with the use of a stick I found!) and the next morning, as I struggled to walk, I started to worry as I had just 6 days before I’d be running 100 miles in Norway.
up the ChimneyBefore the fallGlad to finish!
With lots of salt water baths, foot cream and copious amounts of Duo Derm (thanks Elise!) I rocked up at the airport with my feet surprisingly healed enough that I could walk without pain. I was confident now I’d be ok as Paul, Matt and I embarked on the Article Triple 100 mile event in the Lofoten region of Norway. Wow, just wow. This event was something else. A small group of maybe 30 or so runners were hustled onto buses and boats as we made our way to the start line that was literally in the middle of nowhere. We then set off on an unforgettable adventure running 100miles back to Svolvear. Sadly this experience didn’t quite go the way we hoped and we were timed out at 92 miles as we arrived about 30mins passed the cut off. It was challenging, but mostly without drama (I did lose sight in my left eye again for many hours though!) but we were simply not fast enough. The terrain was challenging and we couldn’t cover the ground in the speed required to make it through the cut offs. Sure we would have continued if they let us, but we also wouldn’t have made the finish line cut off either. Lofoten will forever be the first DNF and the one that got away. I’m ok with it, but I’m also definitely not OK with it. There will be a chip on my shoulder until I go back and conquer that race….
Best start to a raceRacing to the final cut offNavigating the terrain
Thankfully though I didn’t have much time to sit and dwell on the failure. In two weeks I’d be lacing up to go again, this time in the fa drier and more comfortable surroundings of Salzburg in Austria for the Mozart 100. With my feet taking another battering in Norway I was worried about the tight cut off in Austria. However, everything worked out fine and I got through the race in a surprisingly speedy time ahead of my expectations. I was relieved, so relieved. The last thing I wanted was two consecutive failures. Mozart made sure my confidence wasn’t broken and my view on the DNF at Lofoten softened a little. I took a few weeks off and laid low to recover from the exertion of the last two months.
Relief to finish
Frustratingly though, when I started running again I found my right shin was causing some pain and discomfort. I got straight back to my old mentality and ignored it. Enjoying the last of summer running alone, and running with friends. Come August I helped pace Maria as she ran the NDW100, completing four of the centurion 100 milers in a 12 month period – way to go Maria! Later that month I found myself out on a 50km run called the ‘Hangman Ultra‘ which I heard about many years earlier. There were only a few entrants with maybe around 25 of us running. I had some weird thoughts that I could win it (of course I couldn’t!) but did come 5th which made me happy. Despite the achy leg, I was back out doing what I loved – exploring somewhere new.
Hangman
August didn’t end there though and the last week saw another trip to Chamonix for UTMB week, this time with Natalia as she ran the OCC. I made my own variation and ran about 40km from Vallorcine to Trient and back to Chamonix so that I could be at a few aid stations and support and cheer her through the race. It was so good to see her smile her way around and smash the race in a brilliant time! I certainly felt it the next day as I’m not used to running so fast (as I had to speed downhills to make sure I could beat her between the aid stations!) and felt worse that I do after most races!
Legend!
Shortly after getting back to the UK I found myself in the Lake District yet again, this time for the Maverick X-Series Lakes event. Another 50km loop in a part of the Lake District I’ve never been too. It was great, my new favourite Maverick event and a fantastic route. As always the organisation from the Maverick team was the greatest. I had such a great time on this little solo trip and was so glad I did it. One I’d highly recommend.
Maverick Race!
It didn’t stop there though as two weeks after the Maverick Race Natalia and I were off to the ‘salubrious’ (Ha!) Swindon for the Swindon Ultra Trail. More and more I want to run in places I’ve not been before, and whilst Swindon isn’t appealing, it is somewhere new. I did enjoy the route and we did get to explore some lovely areas (like a little jaunt along the ridgeway). Admittedly though we were gad when it was over and we were back in London!
I don’t like saying it but feel I need to though – I wouldn’t recommend this organiser – Only Foot Print Events. Despite what I said after the race about the organisation, things became sour in the weeks afterwards. I signed up to another of their events “the Great Stones Way” in November which was later cancelled for very understandable reasons. However, after being offered a full refund, I’m still, two months later chasing this up (as are Darryl and Paul) as the organiser has stopped responding to all messages (calls, emails, social media messages, and messages from the booking platform etc.,). So sadly they are not to be trusted and I’d advise everyone to avoid. I don’t enjoy saying that about a small company but the silence and being ignored is not acceptable.
Swindon
Anyway, back onto the good times. a week after Swindon I was in Chicago for the Chicago marathon. My first road marathon since 2019. I enjoyed it. I Planned to be conservative and look after my still niggly leg but got caught up in the vibes and good feelings. I finished quicker than I anticipated and of course my mind then started thinking that maybe another Boston qualifying time might be possible in the future… though, trails are my love and I’m not going to get back into road running any time soon.
I ‘finished’ the year in November. After the cancellation of the Great Stones Way, I joined Jon’s group who’d organised to do a recce of a section of the Pennine way he’d be running on the Winter Spine in January. Sadly Jon couldn’t make the recce in the end, so me and the ‘ladies’ changed the plans and the route to incorporate the Yorkshire 3 Peaks instead. It was a wicked little adventure and somewhere I’d been hoping to visit one day so I was glad our plans changed and we didn’t stay on the Pennine way (sorry Jon!). I say I finished the year on this trip as I haven’t run since. It has been 5 weeks and counting at the time of writing this. My niggly leg became more painful on this run and I finally accepted, after 6 months and over 1000 kms that I needed to do something about it.
In December I saw a physio and it looks like it might be that shin splint stuff. So I’ve agreed to rest longer and am doing some rehab exercises in the hope that I don’t fuck up the plans made for 2024! Looking back though, its been another incredible year with 11 events and some amazing adventures. There are memories there that will never be forgotten.
Here we go then, a road marathon. Chicago Marathon 2023. My first roadie since 2019 which is when I signed up to this and got a ballot place to run in 2020. Then the Covid cancellations and deferrals and all that stuff still lingering on…. Here I was though, 4 years later in the Windy City.
I travelled out with Coren and Jules. Frustratingly our AirBnB cancelled on us the week before the race so we ended up staying way out of town on the end of the green line in an area called Cottage Grove. So it was a 4am wake up to get the first train into Downtown Chicago on the morning of the race. We’d experienced the ease of the transport system the day before when we had a similarly early wake up to get into town to run the 5km event. It was worth it for the trip to the excellent Yolk for pancakes after the event. The bobble hat is alright too.
Bobble hat party5km race. way too much effort for 30mins!
When we arrived for the Marathon, it was very easy after the train journey and we breezed through the infamous security (it is pretty tight with snow ploughs blocking the roads and bag checks for all runners entering Grant park) in no time at all. Coren and I then sat on the floor and waited for an hour before wishing each other well for the race and heading off to drop our bags and make our way to the starting corals.
We were in Coral B. I felt like a fraud in the this starting coral with all the 3 hour pacers and every runner around me wearing their super shoes – Either Nikes or Adidas – It was a sea of expensive footwear. I was a long way from my 2018 marathon pace which I used to qualify for this race! I felt uncomfortable waiting and I thought that the coral was full of wannabe alpha males. Pumping their chests and fists out psyching themselves up. Trying (and failing) to get the crowd going with primitive roars and fist pumps. I found it awkwardly odd.
After the elite start we walked forward and then we were given our own klaxon to begin. We stared off and headed up the main road out of Grant park and straight into a tunnel. Here my watch beeped as it lost signal, as expected. It felt like I was passed by about 10,000 runners in the first 2km. I ignored the crowds rushing forward and just did my own thing. I promised myself before hand that I’d just run whatever felt comfortable. I had years to prepare for this and made a conscious decision after the ultras earlier in the year that I wasn’t bothered nor interested in training and spending time running roads for it. I did do one 30km road one in August and I found it hard to hold the pace. So I kept remembering this promise to myself, to enjoy it for what it was.
The support was good from the start and a welcome distraction. I cheered and clapped back, laughed at the signs, hi-fived kids and gawped at the dogs lining the streets. I had arm sleeves on which were covering my watch and I decided not to bother looking at my pace either. Before I knew it I’d hit the 5km marker. The timer said about 30 mins. I assumed my time would be about 5 minutes less factoring in when I would have shuffled across the start start line. I felt ok. Felt good even. So I didn’t change anything and I carried on at that pace. Told myself to get to 10km before the hour ticked by on the timer.
The process repeated. Each timing mat on a 5km marker I seemed to pass about 25-30 mins for the 5km. So I repeated to myself the time for the next marker and seemed to hold steady. I expected a crash at around 30km like that one training run I did where I struggled to hold the 1hr 10km pace and had to walk at 27km. It didn’t happen here though. I did slow down for the last 6km, but not drastically. I was moving well enough with no difficulties so I was fine with that and reminded myself not to push or put the effort in.
There was a slight incline (it was less than 10 m) in the final 400m of the course as the finish line came into view. I did an evil chuckle to myself as i passed people and imagined how many PBs would be ruined by this incline. I crossed then line with a 3:35 time. I was elated with that time. I genuinely thought it would take over 4 hours and had been verbalising that to everyone. I was planning on running 1hr 10ks. I guess it felt good and so I kept running to how it felt. Of course the thoughts then passed my mind of ‘what it’. What if I did train for it? Yeah the distance is no problem. But holding a pace is. What if I didn’t do an ultra the week before… yeah, it all made me think maybe I could have pushed for a Boston qualifier time again. But the thoughts quickly went away. I said I’d do it the way I did and that was the plan. I chose this. I made a conscious effort not to train for road running. I promised myself not to try or push. That I’d run such that I can walk afterwards (and that I could – No aches. No pains. No funny walking. Job done).
I have some very vivid memories from that 42km (and the trip as a whole). Firstly, Chicago stinks of weed. You can smell it everywhere, on every train and every street. I Smelt it out on the course and even after collecting our race bags, sitting down on a bench in the park a few people sitting near us sparked up joints!
The Course is great although I did fine it a bit disorienting – long straights as we weaved the grid of Downtown Chicago. The towers of downtime were visible from most directions. I do remember running through Little Italy, Old Town, the gay district, The Mexican area and China town. Oh to be a Mexican running in this race, the support and shouts of “Mexico!” Were constant. I remember running passed a Korean running group and an old man in a Boston t shirt body popping away too.
The support was excellent. Early on I spent time cheering and clapping to the crowd and reading the signs. There were lots of the common ones ‘tap for power up’, ‘don’t trust a fart’ and ‘this is a lot of work for a banana’. A few others made me laugh, especially one encouraging runners to ‘crop dust the field’. That was original.
The aid stations were so frequent, maybe every 2 miles or so. I took Gatoraid at each one. Conscious that I’d normally be running with my own bottles and snacks. I missed my snacks. I also relied on two Gatoraid gels picked up along the route. That was enough to see me through. I’ve now idea why people need to carry so many gels, it seems excessive to me.
The finish line was busy, very busy. There was a constant stream of runners walking and collecting post run treats of cliff bars, fruit and donuts. The bag drop queue was ridiculous. I erroneously joined it half way down after coming in from the ‘wrong side’. I got chatting to a guy who told me the end of the queue was way back. I looked back and boldly said ‘fuck that. I’ll stay here.’ I also switch queues (As I then genuinely thought I was in the wrong one) and skipped further down. It barely moved. Coren then appeared and together we moved over to the correct queue again together. Even though we were fairly near the front we still queued for almost an hour to get our bags. That’s the one bad thing I’d say, the bag drop wasn’t very well organised (they’d put the bags into big cardboard boxes they then had to fish through!).
I didn’t enjoy the masses of people. There’s some 45,000+ runners in the event, but, thankfully the roads were very wide and when running it didn’t feel too crowded. But it was busy enough. I also didn’t like how everyone gravitates to the ‘blue’ racing line like they are elites. Causing groups at corners and when the crowds following pacers come along. As always human nature showed its shit side too with runners being unaware and inconsiderate of others. Walkers on the line (come on, step to the side to walk) and dropping litter and cups rather than using the bins or throwing the rubbish to the side of the course.
The other thing I didn’t enjoy was ‘being in the moment’. In a road race you’re so aware of where you are. What distance with markers every km and every mile. You’re focusing on each section. Constantly switched on and focused. Constantly repeating the same thoughts. I missed being able to switch off. Lose myself and enjoy the distance without the constant reminders. I told you I’m a different runner now than I was a few years ago. I’m basically moaning about everything that makes a Road marathon so good!
Finally, it was great to experience the race with Coren who picked up her six star medal (running all the current six major marathons). It’s impressive and one day maybe I’ll try for those remaining for me too (Boston, New York and Tokyo)… maybe…
Run With Dai 