Written by Misko Thomka - http://www.realbuzz.com/blogs

Few days after coming back from Arctic Ultra were pretty depressive. I was trying to find answers to million questions about my failure, but eventualy i've sucked it up and decided to move on. But as my legs were recovering, my hunger for a new adventure started growing. One lunch break i decided to check race calendar for Europe ultramarathon races, and after a while i found "100 Miles of Istria".  It immediately caught my attention - great location not so far from Cyprus, great price, generous cut off (i thought overly, but it wasn't such an overkill as i later found out). I started to check the route, their great website, reviews, race reports and videos from past years.. I was hooked! And when i came home and told Andry about it - all i got was just a wink and "Let's do it". The deal was sealed!

We knew it's gonna be much harder, especially with the 7000m+ elevation over 174km of technical terrain, so we immediately switched our training into the hills, we even started doing night trail runs to get used to running in the dark over technical terrain. The time was flying and on the 16th of April early morning we boarded the plane. 

The travel was quite exhausting, it took us almost 17 hours to reach our hotel in Umag, Croatia.  We didn't waste time and got a good nights sleep - this time it was much better, than in sweden and i actually pulled lovely 8 hours of sleep. We've prepared our race kits in the morning, went to the registrations to get our numbers and leave the dropbags for checkpoint Buzet (87km). 

Night before we had a little surprise - we met Cat from UK at the hotel, she was running the Arctic Ultra in Sweden in January as well. After the registration we decided to go for a lunch, accompanied by a one small beer. But as girls were thirsty, we ended up having actually 3 :) A proper pre-race preparation!

At 16:30 we boarded a bus to the start line, where we arrived two hours later. Some group photos, last calories (there was a lovely cheese pizza served at the start area). Word from race director Alen Paliska and we were off!!

We placed ourselves in the back of the field, but we were certainly not expecting the traffic jams that followed - 200+ people on a technical single track, there was a lot of waiting and standing.. Finaly after 3-4km the field spread a little and we started to move a bit faster. But as we reached the first climb a thick fog fell on us and the visibility was just a few meters. Luckily, the course markings were absolutely amazing, as close as 10-15 meters in places was a red small flag with reflective 3M tape that was shining as you pointed the headlamp on it. By the time we got to the first aidstation at CP3 (Plomin) it was a dark night. The weather kept getting progressively worse as we started the biggest climb to the highest point of the route - mountain Vojak. Most of the route was a techincal single track, with sharp rocks and slippery mud/grass. By the time we reached the summit , we were already 2 hours behid our planned pace, but that was expected with the given conditions. At this point we climbed 2300 meters in just a little over 38km. Andry did an amazing job pacing the uphills, most of the time she was in front and patiently waiting until i got my ass up the bloody climbs :)

I was glad that we decided to take a lot of warm and windproof clothes, as the cold and humidity was getting very bad up in the mountains. As we later found out, some people actualy dropped out of the race before even reaching this point. 

We reached CP08 Poklon (42km) in 9 hours, quickly got some food, fixed our feet and moved on. This was the first time i noticed Andry was limping a little, but she played it cool, saying she just have a little calf pain and it's nothing serious. 

Following was a set of difficult climbs, few hills with 400+m elevation. By the time we reached another aid station Brgudac (56km, CP 10), the daylight had come again. I had to retape the right foot completely, as i felt a lot of blisters popping out. Again we grabbed some coke and food and went off. Just few minutes later started a heavy rain a we were soaked to the bone. The only way to keep warm was to keep on moving, and we did. I've noticed that Andry's pace was dropping a lot and i could clearly see a lot of pain in her face. Finaly she told me she had a shooting pain in the knee, i'm sure this was there since the cp8 but she toughened it out - that's the way she rolls,  brave warrior :)  / ..she'll probably kill me for this info, but to make the picture clear, i have to reveal that she got her period literally just hours before the start, too!.. /

In a terrible wind and rain we somehow managed to get over 2 rough climbs of Orljak and Gomila (CP11 & 12), but as we began to descent to aid station Trstenik , it was obvious that Andry can't go any further without risking a very bad knee injury.

At this point i couldn't imagine to continue alone and i told Andry that we will drop out at the next aid station, but she insisted that i will try and continue and finish it for both of us. It was a very difficult decision, we came here as a team and i didn't feel it was right to leave her alone for the rest of the weekend.. But she insisted, and i tried to evaluate how i feel and eventually decided that i will give it a try, as my legs were feeling ok.. We came to Trstenik and Andry announced her dropout to organisers. It was a very rough weather at the aid station and i think they didn't really noted it down, as in the official results her dropout is listed as CP10 - but she actually made it much further. I couldn't help but being very emotional, but eventualy i took off and started the climb to Zbevnica (CP14).  It was a very exposed hill, the wind gusts were throwing me of the trail and it started snowing. I actualy had to force myself to start running uphill to keep myself warm, and after what seemed like an eternity if finaly reached the top and started the 1000m descent to Buzet. There were some kilometers with 200m altitude drops each, literaly climbing down almost vertical cliff at places. It was qiute dangerous, as the rain turned everything into a muddy slide. 

Eventually i made it to Buzet (87km, CP15), and finaly got to my drop bag. I changed all the clothes i had available, dried out, fixed the blisters and switched to my Altra Olympus. I had a nice portion of pasta with meatballs and i felt much better. I spent almost 1 hour there, but it was time well invested into warming up and a little recovery. 

It took a lot of will power to get out of the warm house into that weather again, but i had to keep moving, i was only 3 hours ahead of the cut-off at this point and there were some nasty climbs still waiting. 

The next section to Hum just proved my fears - after the long lasting rains, most of the dirt trails turned into a mess. Ankle-deep liquid mud, that was try to get your shoes off wasn't really helping to save any extra energy. There were quite a few river crossing, where in order to not get wet i tried to jump the stepping stones, but eventually i gave up and just walked it through the cold streams.

After almost 24 hours in the race i reached the 100km checkpoint Hum (CP16). As another night was approaching, i popped one caffeine pill, got some food supplies and didn't waste time to move on. Few kms later when the night fell i joined two Czech guys, and we kept moving together. It was a big mental help as the going was getting very tough.. The fields turned into swamps and at one point we managed to make less than 2km in one hour! It was extremely demotivating and strength draining.. Finaly we reached the lake Botonega (CP19, 119km) and got some refreshments and food. I was surprised to see one of the Czech guys taking out a pair of greasy sausages from his backpack and starting a nice late dinner :D At that point i was happy to eat down half a banana with my stomach distress - these guys are just hardcore! :)

I let them to enjoy their caloric bomb and moved on to the next climb - village Zamask, 400m vertical meters of a muddy slide. Two steps up, one step down.. My only focus at this point was not to stop, and after another hour or so i saw the lights of the village, hit the checkpoint and started the descend. Czech guys caught up again, and after a while they passed as i was moving very slowly down the hill. In the mudfields i developed a sharp pain in my right shin which was shooting everytime i made a step downhill, so i took it easy.  

I enjoyed the little flat section and started to crawl up the uphill to Motovun - a castle-like small village on top of another hill.

The trail got much better and the progress was faster without sliding back. I reached the CP21 (130km) in 32 hours.  The Czech guys were there, telling me that they will take a nap here for one hour and then move on.  I was considering this as well, but i was getting paranoid about missing the cut-off so i made a decision to just move on. This proved to be a crucial mistake as i later learned.

Soon i was sliding down the castle side, half on my ass, half walking, must've been a funny sight.. It was around 4:30 in the morning of the second night without sleep when i started my climb to Oprtalj, another 400+ vertical meters. 

I could already feel the first effects of sleep deprivation and i was praying for the light to come to wake me up a little bit. Eventualy around six oclock it started to get brighter and soon after the sun came up, first time in the race the sky was blue. This lifted my spirits a lot, i reached the aid station at CP22 (139km),  got a cup of coffee with some snacks and moved on.

This was the final steep downhill and i had to stop many times to ease off the shin pain. There were few moments when i stopped, closed my eyes for a while and then when i opened them i wasn't sure which way i came from, i started to get really confused. Paranoia kicked in again and what was the most interesting, every 20 minutes i had a feeling of Deja-Vu, that i'd run this course, that i saw that tree, those bushes.. it was really surreal.

I was on the climb again, which made it a little easier to keep the focus and sense of direction. I passed CP23 at 145km and finaly after few hours started the final 30km (mostly) descent to the finish line. I reached cp24 (150km) in 38 hours, with a comfortable 10 hours left for the last 23km or so.

I made a decision to use the painkillers for the shin pain, and i left the station together with one Slovenian runner. The pills took effect but made me even more letargic as i was. I was reaching a state where i was no longer understanding what was going on and i just focused to follow the guy and keep moving. I was no longer able to make the time calculations so i gave up on that as well. I didn't know how much time passed and i suddenly "woke up" entering the town Buje. The Czech guys caught up after having their nap and together we reached the aid station CP26 (159km). At this point i was very confused how i actually got there, but it felt good when i heard we have only 14km left to finish line with more than 7 hours left.

I went ahead alone, the pain levels were very high again but for some reason i was afraid to take painkillers or caffeine pills. I saw the sea coast in the distance but i couldn't see Umag anywhere, as it was hidden behind a small hill. This confused me even more and i started to have irrational thoughts that maybe i'm going wrong direction. Czech guys passed me along with the Slovenian guy, but this didn't fix my thinking. I saw a highway ahead and i thought i caught a glimpse of a tunnel going under it to cross it. But when i came closer, there was no tunnel at all. The markings of the course were every 30-40 meters, bright orange clearly leading the way. My brain suddenly told me that this is not the way, that it's a hallucination, just like the tunnel.. I went back and forth, getting more and more anxious and eventualy i took a different turn and went to other direction where i saw another tunnel in the distance.. I will not go into the details of what was going in my head, it was a complete mental mess of halucinations, including smacking my phone on the road and shattering it into pieces just to realize this is all real.. 

Higher powers reached out and out of nowhere came a car with an older couple that stopped and asked me if i'm in the race - it was the parents of the race director Alen. They probably immediately saw what state i was in and that i don't make any sense, they put me in the car and i blanked out.

I came to senses in the medical tent at finish line - health wise i was ok, i didn't need any medical attention, but i was at the edge of total exhaustion and sleep deprivation. They finaly got hold of Andry and she came to my rescue. We got a lift to the hotel, where i finaly layed down to rest.

The race was over, once again the ultra gods defeated me, but this time i stood out proud. I'm still not an official finisher, but i reached the 165km mark this time, which is the 100mile distance, and that gives me at least partly the feeling of achievement i was dreaming of. 

The learning curve in ultras is very complicated, one mistake can cost u any race. There are many races ahead, and i believe there will be a day where me and Andry will cross the finish line together. And that's a dream worth training for, living for. :)

Thanks to everybody for the great messages of support and the energy you were sending us throughout the race, you are all amazing!

Written by Peter Koraca - http://www.citytrailrunning.com

Written by Mark Perkins - http://ultraperk.com

At the end of last year I went up to Profeet in Fulham to support Paul on his (successful) attempt to break the treadmill 50km world record. After he finished, a group of us went over to the pub across the road to grab some food. Over lunch I mentioned that I was considering doing the Crawley 12 hour race instead of the South Downs Way 50 as it might be a more specific tune-up race for my main early-season focus, GUCR. At that point Robbie turned to me and said that the only reason he would run a 12hr track race would be if it was to try and hit the magic 100 mile distance. 100 miles in 12 hours - those sounded like pretty ridiculous numbers. But then again, having recently run the Berlin 100 in 13:06 maybe I could get somewhere in the same ballpark if it was on a more controlled environment like a track? Hmmm…

A few months later and I’m standing on the Crawley K2 track awaiting the start of the 12 hour event. Somehow that little seed that was sown in my mind has turned this race from a tune-up for GUCR into an full blown ‘A’ race for me. I have no idea how close I can get to 100 miles in the allotted twelve hours but I’ve made the decision to go out at a pace that will at least give me a fighting chance of getting there - if of course I can maintain it for the duration.

My build up to this race has been a funny mix. I’ve hit some of the biggest and best training weeks I’ve ever had and I’ve been running times in training that (although far from spectacular in the grand scheme of things) I’d have only dreamed of a few years ago. But then, after my last scheduled ‘big week’ of mileage I suddenly found myself completely wiped out by a respiratory infection. I was in bed for the whole of Easter and had been plagued with a chesty cough and zero energy ever since then. The last week before the race had seen me drinking litres of ginger tea and praying to the gods of the track that my legs - which felt like wooden blocks every time I tried to run - would come good on the day. But thankfully by the time race morning came around my breathing seemed to have sorted itself out - my confidence had taken a bit of a knock but physically I knew I couldn’t have lost that much fitness in the preceding weeks.

***

The hooter sounds to start the race and I slip into the front in lane one, getting straight up to speed. My plan is to run 4:20 mins/km (about 1:44 mins per lap) for as long as I possibly can, hopefully past the 50 mile mark. That will then give me a little wiggle room to allow for me slowing down a touch in the second half. To hit 100 miles in the 12 hours I will need to average 4:27 min/km. I’m pretty sure that a few of the others on the track are thinking that I am going to blow up horribly at some point, going out at this speed. I’ve no idea whether they will be proved right or not - whilst it’s not a fast pace for shorter distances I have never tried to run at that pace for anything much past a marathon. But hey, a track race is a pretty ‘safe’ environment to give it a go. If I blow up spectacularly I can just stop and walk away at any point and the only knock will be to my confidence… and of course my pride.

I’ve never done a race on a track before - not even a shorter ‘proper’ track race like a 5000m or so. But I have done a few long (~3 hour) training sessions on my local track so it’s not a completely alien environment to me. I say hi to a few people as I overtake them but this early on in the race people mostly seem focused on warming up the bodies and minds. A long time to go yet.

Sarah is (once again) crewing for me, although today she is doing double duty - she’s also my lap recorder for the day. Not a trivial task to have to keep a constant eye on the clock and write down lap times every minute and a bit for twelve hours. I give her a wave and a smile every time I pass. The funny thing is that today will probably be the longest block of time I have seen of her in weeks - in between work and training and kids and everything else we are often like two ships passing in the night during most of the week.

I stop for a quick pee on the grass off the back side of the track, losing a minute or so but there is nothing to be done - my timing plan has to account for a few pit stops. What is really worrying me however is my stomach. I’ve only been running for an hour or so but it’s already feeling pretty uncomfortable and whilst I’ve been taking on some liquid calories in the form of UCAN I can tell that today is going to be one of those where it’s a struggle to eat properly. Another hour and a bit passes. legs feel fine so far but I’m really starting to feel a little sick and I have a heavy, churning feeling in my stomach. I make the decision to sacrifice a little time in exchange for a run to the toilet, it’s a gamble but I need to try and sort out my guts before things get any worse or I’ll be in for a very long day indeed.

Back on the track and I’m feeling a little better, enough to start getting a few more calories in via a mix of UCAN, boiled new potatoes and Nakd fruit & nut bars. I’m ticking off the laps - my watch is showing 4:20 min/km pace on the dot but I know that the GPS isn’t measuring an accurate 400m per lap so the pace is probably just a touch slower than that. No matter. I hit 100 laps in 2:57, just before the start of the 6 hour race, pretty much on target and with my legs still feeling pretty comfortable even if my stomach still isn’t great.

The 6 hour race starting sees a few familiar faces joining the track - a friend Dan (Skrobak) is doing it, and despite setting a massive PB of 2:43 at last week’s Brighton Marathon he’s aiming for 50 miles or so in the six hours. On fresh legs he’d easily run that; the bonus for me is that for him to hit that target he’ll need to be running at about the same pace as I am, which means I may have some company for the time he’s on the track. I also spot and say hello to Travis Wilcox (who has run the Berlin 100 a few times now, including last year when I did it), and Helen James who I’ve never met but who I know by reputation from her Team GB running exploits.

Although the track is busier now it’s nice to get some more motivation from the fresh faces on the track, and it’s great to see Dan and congratulate him on his great run at Brighton. We form a mini train of two and start clicking off the laps, I’m perhaps pushing a bit harder than I should at this point to keep up with his fresh legs but we are still hitting about the right pace and it’s very nice to have some company. I’m trying to get some calories down me but my stomach is feeling worse and worse as I do so. Sarah knows it and is looking a little worried as I go past her repeatedly, asking if there is anything she can do - but right now it’s out of either of our hands really, I just have to wait and hope that it passes. But I’m starting to feel really sick, four and a half hours is really too early to start vomiting and still stand much chance of finishing the race although it’s exactly what I feel I need to do right now. But I fight the urge, stop trying to take in any more calories and hope that things will settle down.

More laps tick by, some with Dan, some alone when our slight differences in pace have naturally caused us to drift apart. My legs are feeling a little fatigued now but no more than I’d expect from five plus hours on my feet, and my stomach seems to finally be settling down a little. I decide that I’m going to switch onto Coke for my calories - earlier than I normally would but it’s the best chance I have of keeping my energy up with the least possible stomach impact. Dan seems to be dropping off the pace a little, undoubtably still a little fatigued from his previous week’s efforts and I find myself running alone again for the most part. Fellow Centurion team members Paul and Eddie have turned up and (even though there is none of the singing I was promised) it’s great to see some friendly faces. It also means that they can pass me bottles while Sarah continues on with her lap recording. Nice for her to have some company too I’m sure.

The wind has been steadily picking up over the last few hours and on the exposed Crawley track it’s definitely making it hard to keep my pace up around the half of the lap where it’s in my face. My splits are still looking reasonable however, I’m probably hitting about a 1:46 average and just before 6 hours I reach the 50 mile mark. So far so good… 

My watch clicks over to 6 hours and it’s time to change direction. I’ve been looking forward to this. I finish my lap, run around Pam Storey (the organiser of the event) who is standing on the track, and head back the other way, passing a handful of runners who were behind me on the turnaround lap. Suddenly it’s a whole new world - everything is the wrong way round. The parts of the track that had a nice tailwind are now the dreaded slog sides where I’m battling to keep my pace up, I’m picking up bottles with my left hand not my right… all very strange. The other thing that is strange is my watch; suddenly the pace reading it is giving me is all over the place. I’m moving quicker than Dan at this point and when I next go past him he mentions that his watch is doing the same, somehow it seems that the direction change has caused some issue with the GPS signal because it’s not giving me a reliable read-out at all. In most races I wouldn’t care much about this; I normally run to feel and pay very little attention to checking my pace while I’m running. But this race is different, I need to keep up a very specific speed and after having run for 6+ hours already it’s hard to rely on your natural pace estimation, as it is likely feeling much harder than normal to run at the pace I need to maintain. I run blindly for a while, hoping that my watch will sort itself out, but it doesn’t and I’m starting to get flustered just at the time in the race when it’s most important to stay calm and collected.

By this point more of the Centurion crew have arrived, James, Drew and Claire are all there helping Sarah with the lap recording and cheering me on. Drew very kindly lends me his watch which I strap on, only to find that it’s in mins/mile rather than the mins/km that I’m used to. I ask my (now pretty large!) support crew what my pace should be in these unfamiliar units in order to keep me on-pace for a sub-12 hour 100 miles. But I’m still in a bit of a flap and don’t pay proper attention, and end up running for a good chunk of time unwittingly at too slow a pace. After a while James points out to me that my previous ten laps or so have been averaging around 1:50-1:52 per lap. That is far too slow and I know it, and I curse myself for losing my focus and leaking precious time.

I’m quickly finding that racing a timed event, on a track and with a specific, extremely ambitious mileage target like this is absolutely brutal. There is nowhere to hide - it’s just you and your splits, which are getting harder and harder to hit with every extra lap in your legs. You can’t lose focus, you can’t let your mind wander, you just need to keep in that zone, and with every lap you are having to push that little bit harder to maintain your pace. Every lap you drop one second means a lap you need to make one second up. It’s utterly relentless, and as I go round and round I have the curious feeling of everything external to me slipping away. It’s me, my watch and the track. Nothing else matters. Time has pretty much ceased to have any meaning and I find that I almost don’t care about how many hours I have left. All that matters is keeping my pace up, checking my watch, getting my split times from my crew. Relentless.

Sarah and the Centurion posse are doing a great job of feeling me information, Coke and support. James keeps me updated on my lap times as I go through the 10 hour mark, and hits me with the bad news that with my current splits I’m not going to make it. I need to find another 2 seconds per lap, he says. I tell him that there is no way in hell I can find 2 seconds per lap, but my next 8 laps are magically all two seconds faster. I’m hurting pretty badly now, my body is screaming at me to stop but somehow I’m still feeling in control. The sickness is long gone and now it is a pure test of focus, self belief and seeing if my body can hold together while I push it way beyond anywhere I’ve pushed it before. My splits start to drift again and again James tells me what I need to do to pull it back. I’m really losing track of time at this point but I go through the 140km mark in about 10:26 and I think to myself that all I need to do now is run a 1:34 half marathon and I’ll have it in the bag. I ran a 1:19 half in a training run a week or so ago so 1:34 should be easy, but my legs have 140km in them and I know that it’s going to be tight, really tight, maybe too tight.

More laps, pushing as hard as I can… James updates me again, tells me that at my current pace I’m going to miss my target by about 300 meters. I grit my teeth and dig deep, deeper than I’ve ever dug before. I’m not going to let this slip away from me now. I’m speeding up, I’m shedding seconds of my lap times but I can literally feel the toll the increased speed is taking on my body, pulling me apart with every step. I’m totally red-lining it but now with less than an hour to go it’s all or nothing, this right here is the line that separates nearly great from the really great and I’m damned if I’m going down without a fight when I’ve come this far already today. It’s still tight, too tight in fact but maybe if I can just cling on and run myself into the ground in the last 20 minutes I can make up those seconds - or is it minutes now? - that I need.

Sarah is doing a great job of running alongside me for a few meters each lap, keeping me updated and giving me motivation but I find I can barely acknowledge her presence, I’m lost so deep within myself trying to find the focus needed to hit those damn lap times. The other 12 hour runners on the track are fantastic, giving me the inside lane when I come past and cheering me on with their kind words of support even though I can barely grunt back replies.

I’m pushing, pushing, pushing. Everything hurts but somehow I still have a overall feeling of being in control of the situation. Sarah tells me that even if I don’t make the 100 miles in the 12 hours, the race officials have very kindly agreed to keep the clock running in order to give me an official 100 mile time. A part of me feels like telling her not to worry, I’m not going to need it, I’m not going to let this slip away. But I don’t. Instead I just push, those splits that have become my nemesis chipping away at me, breaking me down, but so close now…

Then suddenly, everything changes. I’m not sure quite what has happened but it’s like a light switch being flipped in my head. The feeling of being in control has gone, completely and utterly. I’m in a place I’ve never been before, the pain is the same but my head is suddenly foggy, and my field of vision seems different somehow. I feel a little cross-eyed to be honest. Less than fifteen minutes to go but I’m slowing down and there is nothing I can do about it - this is not the final 15 mins of power I was planning just a few laps earlier. Instead I feel myself completely shutting down, I’m starting to get sleepy even though I’m still running and I’m suddenly worried that I may not even make to the end of the race on my feet. Sarah is worried too, she can see it in my face and by the way I’m struggling to actually talk to her. It’s gone and there is nothing I can do to get it back, my splits fall away and with it any chance of hitting my 100 mile target. I don’t even care right now to be honest. i’m just doing my best to keep running. I get given a marker to mark where I finish when the 12 hours is up, and when the hooter blows I’m vaguely aware of placing it down on the floor before carrying on, another few laps with my head closing down on me and then I’m done, finally done, 100 miles in 12 hours, 4 minutes and a handful of seconds. 

My legs nearly collapse on me but Sarah and one of the Centurion crew grab me and help me over to James’ van where Ed, a paramedic gives me a quick check over. I’m fine, although I feel very spaced out and my legs are completely refusing to support my own body weight. It really is amazing how one second you can be running and then next totally unable to walk. Then we head over to the announcers box, up some stairs that I can barely get up even with two people supporting me and I find a chair to slump into to await the prize-giving.

***

In the end, I ran 99.6 miles (160.2km) in 12 hours, and crawled my way to 12:04 for 100 miles. I took just over an hour off my 100 mile PB, I broke the course record by 9.6 miles and my 100 mile time apparently puts me in 4th place on the all-time GB list. I should be very pleased, and indeed in many ways I am. I’m pretty sure that there is no way I could have extracted anything more from myself in those final few hours, but missing my target by 0.4 miles is also incredibly painful, and in the days since the event I keep finding myself wondering about where I could have made up that distance. Why I couldn’t have found it on the day? Do I just lack that extra 0.4% of grit, determination and guts needed to really push through when the going gets tough? Or was I truly up against my hard physical limit on the day? It’s so hard to know. Maybe if it was less windy, maybe if I hadn’t had the virus before the race, maybe if my watch hadn’t lost it’s GPS signal, maybe if I hadn’t felt so sick at the start, maybe maybe maybe…

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter. Every race throws something different at you and you can only play the cards that you get dealt. I certainly didn’t have a bad hand, the weather was beautiful and sunny and all things considered it was a great day to try and hit an ambitious target. I had a fantastic day, I ran a 100 mile time that I would have not have believed even remotely possible for me a year ago, and in doing so I’ve learnt a lot about how much further you can push your body and mind than you would ever, ever believe.

But… it does mean that I’m going to have to go back to the track and try again some time. I wasn’t planning on another track race necessarily, but to miss out on a target by such a fine margin demands a second bite at the cherry. I’m both scared and excited just thinking about it. But first I need to get my mind and body back into working order for GUCR in just five weeks time, a race I’m really looking forward to, and hopefully 145 miles of canal will make a nice change from endless loops of a track!

[Photo credits Dan, Sarah and Eddie - thanks!]

Written by Paul Corderoy - http://ultrahippy.blogspot.co.uk

 

The slightly longer version, with musings goes a bit like this; (Please note timings may be out of synch with real time. This all happened, but the order wasn’t stored in my brain.)We started in heavy rain, which lasted for about an hour.  Then the sun came out and it was a pleasant day for running.  I had a pacing plan and a target. I wanted to average 10 minute miles and complete 72 miles. 4 laps of a track is 1 mile, so the maths are easy.  Run laps in 2 and ½ minutes and you will do 10 minute miles.

With about 5 minutes to go we were informed Debbie Martin Consani was close to the British record, which she ran on to achieve with 129.171 km.  I felt so lucky to be able to witness this and to be on the same track.

Written by James Adams - http://www.runningandstuff.com

The race briefing declared that that 45% of the entry were women. This is very unusual in running races generally and more so in ultra running. What a great day for equality said most of the men. Well actually no, I think most were thinking about how the lovely views were going to be supplemented by, erm.. lovely views. The Pony Express – voted Britain’s best race for pulling in.

The Pony Express was named because of the wild ponies that live in the New Forest. This ancient forest was another one of those places in the UK that I had never been to despite it only being a two hour drive from London. We were all glad to get out of London for the weekend. The majesty of ancient trees and wild animals would certainly eclipse the majesty of the future his-majesty spending millions of public money parading thousands of expensive dressed up military ornaments. I could not bear to wait for the news that a year of my taxes had been used to present Posh Spice with a meal that she would barely touch. Still, the bank holiday was welcome though.

Part of the Serpentine Ultra-Running Army

Right then the race. This was a new addition to the expanding portfolio of great events that Neil Thubron and XNRG are putting on around the UK. We were to run 30 miles each day on Saturday and Sunday on the trails of the New Forest. Unlike other XNRG events these were not along a continuous national trail such as the Ridgeway or the North Downs Way but will involve combinations of lots of different trails, lots of turns and unfortunately for most of us lots of navigating.

Neil also warned us at the race briefing that the forest folk don’t take too kindly to signs being put up in their area. Neil had paid for the privilege of being allowed to put up some arrows for the event but soon discovered that the locals had removed many of them.

I started in the “middle” group at 10am which was probably unwise as I ended up being near the front of the pack and hence more responsible for navigation. It was actually much easier than I thought, keeping my place on the map and knowing approximately when to expect a turn. I ran with Cleo Oliver and Chris (who I’d met a couple of years ago in Davos).

The first 10 miles to the first checkpoint were fairly well covered by the trees and were really nice to run. After that we ran along some exposed railway path where the sun started doing it’s work. Our group of 3 turned into a group of about 8 with Dan De Belder and another lady Beth,  a Serpie John and some others catching up with us.

We had navigated quite well but hit a problem around 15 miles in where there was a t junction in the woods and were not sure whether we should go left or right. The map was not big enough to make it clear so we opted to go left on getting the compass out and realising that we should be heading due west. If it were just one person deciding we would have turned left within seconds, however as there was a committee of us we debated for a long time before marginally deciding to go the right way.

At the second CP Rob and the other leading guy caught up with us having got lost the same place we nearly did earlier. He had done another couple of miles in a loop but managed to get back on track. Rob and Alex then pushed on ahead taking the 2 girls with him.

The route cut through some farms and Ian Payne came smashing it up behind me. I can normally rely on him to cramp up around 20 miles in any long run and have to walk the rest but he was doing the opposite here, bounding past us all quite comfortably. He was only doing the one day though because he is a triathlete and I think his training spreadsheet said that he should spend 6 hours of Sunday watching DVD’s about swimming technique.

I was quite pleased with being able to keep up a reasonable pace and got running with a chap called Andy who told me this was his first run of more than 20 miles. We got to the third checkpoint 20 minutes before it was due to open and saw Rob there with the ladies (Alex had run off quite fast). I had been drinking lots and looking forward to getting more cold drink and luckily there were some supporters on hand to give us some water. It was our own fault for starting at 10 rather than 11.

I thought about staying until more water was available but figured I could be halfway to the end by the time they get there, I had about 10k left to go and just wanted to get on with it. Neil met us about a mile later with some cold water so I didn’t have to worry about fluid anymore.

I continued with Chris chatting away and behind in the distance I could see a Serpie gaining on us fast. I figured it was John having a second wind but almost as quickly as I thought that Huw Lobb came bounding past, having started an hour later he was making light work of this run. I was surprised that he didn’t get more lost but he’s actually good at running while reading a map. Might have to put him in a race with Alan Hall.

With only a few miles to go there is a section through Ringwood which we didn’t quite do correctly. We were supposed to follow the Malvern Trail which we did except for a time where we arrived in Ringwood and could not see any signs. We asked some locals who were very helpful indeed, too helpful in fact.

Yes yes I know where the footpath is. You follow this road, past the traffic lights up to the car park, go straight through the car park up to the car dealers, it used to be a lovely bakery but it closed 12 years ago. After the car dealers you will see a café that our Alice used to work in a few years back while she was at college. This time of year it has a lovely garden with marigolds and tulips. Anyway, please give me back my map.

Andy and I managed to retrieve our maps from the too helpful locals and head on up in the general direction of the finish but missed an underpass and went over a busy roundabout instead. No bother really and soon we saw the School where the finish was and got the job done in just under 5 hours.

It was only 3 in the afternoon, the sun was blazing, I had just done a long run and felt that deserved a bottle of beer (or several). Anna who helps with the organisation told us to get in the showers asap before the masses start coming in. She told me to use the ladies as they were not being used. I asked just to make sure that it was ok and then went into the ladies to find a startled Cleo in there. Wasn’t my fault honest.

After the shower we sat outside at the finish with beer and clapped the others in. Jen Bradley was a little nonplussed with getting  quite lost near the end but still came in in a great time. Gemma finished around 6 hours and had me doing shuttle runs for her soya milk for the next hour. Mark Bell, Alex Pearson soon followed. We saw Alex (the guy who was leading of the 10am starters) finish about an hour after we did and soaking wet. He had gone really wrong and ended up jumping in a river to cross to get back on route. He looked exhausted and very wet. Later in the pub he told us he had never done a marathon before and only did this in competition with his brother who was about to run a marathon in Afghanistan (800m laps of some army complex).

The location of the finish was perfect. We set up our sleeping bags and mats in the sports hall and went to the pub that was only a short walk. A little walk and a few pints of local ale seemed like the perfect way to unwind from a day running. The event included dinner and breakfast and both were really good. For dinner there was a simple but recovery friendly option of chicken or quorn and veg and potatoes. Salad was also on offer for those people who really did not get the point of ultra-running.

I managed to get drunk enough to sleep well at night which can be a problem when sleeping in a room with about 50 other people. Some of the women snore and fart terribly.

It rained heavily during the night which would not have much of an effect on the run the next day except that I had left my trainers outside to protect people from the smell. Doh.

Sunday morning the starts were earlier, 7, 8 and 9. As one of the faster finishers I was put on the 9 start with Rob, Jen and most of the people I ran with yesterday. This was fine, it gave me a couple of hours to let the massive fry up to settle, they had done really well with the food here.

I could have posted about 10 pictures of Jen's arse but I decided to go for this one instead

There only ended up being 10 of us at the 9am start, Neil had sent the ladies off on the 8 at their request except Jen was not around so was the only female in the 9 start. The 3 guys who were leading of those doing the 2 days (coming in just over 4 hours yesterday) shot off into the distance and I made a vain attempt to keep up with Rob who was charging off too but he lost me on the hills. There were more hills today (or rather there were hills today).

After a few miles Jen and the other 4 caught up and we ran as a group for most of the rest. We were running across the top of a ridge and it was quite windy. It was we were going to get most of this done before the heat of the day kicked in.

I thought the route on day 2 was much nicer, there was less twisting and turning on the map and more open viewing points and tall forests. Though I was keeping my eye on the map in case I lost the group I was just following Jen and Sandy who were doing the majority of the navigation. If I were on my own I would have probably walked up the hills, Jen was determined not to walk any of them and was beasting the 5 guys up every one of them, shouting at us if we walked. She was in a rush to get back for the Arsenal Vs Man Utd game later and needed to finish in 5 hours. Essentially 5 guys were getting pulled along by a girl who was desperate to get back for the football. What has the world come to?

At the start of each day we were warned about adders in the forest. A warning usually taken lightly except there had been a couple of sightings on the first day so I was looking out for one. I love the wild ponies and cows in the New Forest, they are completely disinterested in humans. They don’t run away but neither do they respond in any way if you stroke them. Checkpoint 2 was quite funny, there as a pony with it’s face in the cake and was not moving. I thought it had been tied there somehow but it was just wanting to eat the famous Rocky Road cake that powers most of the runners along this.

This pony spend a long time slobbering on the cake

Oddly I did not eat much and the checkpoints this weekend. Apart from drink I only recall having a couple of pretzels and one piece of cake. This is unlike mewhen there is cheese, sausage and sweets on offer. I did have two fry-ups for breakfast though.

After the first checkpoint we started to overtake the runners from previous waves and soon caught up with some familiar faces. We passed Alex just before the last checkpoint. I sprinted ahead to see him and say hello only to get a photo of Jen from the front. In struggling to keep up I had already taken about 10 photos of her arse and did not want to be branded a pervert again after yesterday’s changing room episode.

After CP3 I saw Gemma in the distance and considered my dilemma. Should I run the rest with her and earn some brownie points or should I press on so to be able to have more beer at the finish? Gemma was running with a lady called Carol Ann who was running her 150^th marathon/ultra today so figured she was in good hands.

Not long after that we got a bit lost. On going into some woods and over a brook we must have gone along a path that was not really a path (well not marked on the map anyway) and cut through and come out at the wrong point. Some of the locals had removed the signs again in protest against marauding ultra-runners and we ended up not really knowing where we were. There were some people out walking with a map.

We had different maps and neither had any of the same reference points. We’d say “where are we in relation to Badger’s Shrub” and they’d say “That’s not on our map, you are about a mile south of Otters Dyke” and we’d say “That’s not on our map, I reckon we are somewhere west of Adder’s tail” and they’d say “That’s not on our map, maybe you should make an approach for Donkey’s End?”

Realising this could go on and on we chose to try and take a path heading south towards Brockenhurst and hope to regain our position somehow. There were about 10 of us now which prolonged the decision making but we got there in the end, unanimously deciding to go wrong. We got the compass out and took a rough bearing. I was amazed that I convinced some people that I knew how to use a compass.

It didn’t make too much difference. I think we cut out a bit of the route but made up for it by hitting the road into Brockenhurst a bit early and running a few miles of road. It felt a bit disappointing to finish with a longer stretch road than we should but we could have spent all day in that forest. Jen was on a mission now, cutting the 5 hour finish a bit fine. I did point out that Man U score all their goals in the last minute anyway so she had a couple more hours still but she was having none of it and sped off.

We all finished in very similar times to the previous day. Rob took about 20 minutes less on dya 2 as did Jen by just scraping under 5. I did about 5.01 which meant less than 10 hours for both runs. I was really pleased with that, when I head to the US I’ll be going a bit slower than that and taking more walking breaks (even if I do get shouted at). I thought I had time to pop inside and get a beer and come to watch Gemma finish but she was too quick too, finishing just a few minutes after me.

I hit the shower (MENS) and came out for the prize giving and to chat to some of the people I bumped into along the way. The 3 leading guys finished in just over 4 hours again, deciding not to race in amongst themselves today so only a few minutes from the first day separated them. Beth won the womens race and Jen was just behind in 2^nd, not far off first and would have been in with a shout if she had not explored more of the A338 on day 1.

We retired the to pub to hear that Man U had lost while I tried to recruit Sandy to the ever expanding Serpentine Ultra-Running Army.

So all in all a great 2 days of running for me and another great show from XNRG. Shame I can’t do their next 2 events on the Isle of Wight and on the Thames Path. Hopefully Neil can finally crack that 50/50 male/female split next time. I’ll be sure to bring my ear plugs and wear them during the race too.

Written by James Adams - http://www.runningandstuff.com

Ivanhoe Beacon

It threatened to be another glorious weekend on sunshine and dryness though the weather reports had been mixed all week. Tuesday said it was going to be great, Wednesday said it will be shit, Thursday said great again and Friday morning when the race was about to start said, well maybe..

It's a pain in the arse looking at weather reports for long races. At least if you are running the London Marathon you can just type "Deptford" into the BBC weather page and see what you have in store for the 3ish hours you are going to be running. I spent all week looking at Tring, Streatley, Wantage, Watlington, Swindon to try and see what the conditions were going to be like.

The Ridgeway path is mainly off-road and stretches from Ivanhoe Beacon near Tring in the east all the way to Swindon out west. It is an 85 mile chalk ridge formed when Europe collided with Africa 30 million years ago. Bloody foreigners, distorting our landscape. Wait till the Daily Mail hear of this. It has been used for at least 5000 years as a cross country path because it's elevation make it drier and easier to defend against attack. Apparently it is the oldest road in Britain.

I won't be asking for directions here.

The Challenge this weekend was to complete the Ridgeway trail (well most of it) in 3 days, which equates to around a marathon each day. There are a fair few hills, the occasional mud bath and slippy chalky descents that would make this more of a challenge. It is another fantastic event put on by XNRG. I did this last year and the most lasting memories despite rain and mud was the very friendly atmosphere created by the organisers and all the runners/walkers who took part.

However for me it was going to be a different challenge as I was going to be doing this with my girlfriend Gemma who had not done such a thing before. Will she make it to the end with a smile on her face? Will she get pushed off down a chalk slope? Who knows? It was going to be interesting to find out.

Day 1 - Ivanhoe Beacon to Watlington

Some of the better path

Everyone starts late today to give everyone the chance to get to the start in good time. The walkers set off at 10, runners at 11 and fast runners at 12. I started with Gemma and most of the field at 11 thinking that would be plenty of time to get the run done before the sun sets at 4ish. A large gazebo was pitched up on another hill near the start before we all had to make our way down and then back up to Ivanhoe Beacon for the start of the run. From here you can see for miles and miles. It was fairly clear and the views during the day would be stunning if it stayed like this. Starting on a steep downhill always make you think you are going to fall and be trampled on by a herd of ultra running elephants.

The first miles are mainly open grasslands before ducking into the woods. The trees and paths this time of year are stunning, everything is orange and gold and the leaves on the floor makes it feel like you are running along a carpet. It was perfect weather for running, around 10 degrees and sunny. Now is the time where people catch up with other runners that they have not seen in a while. "Oh I remember you from such and such race in August", "Ahhh, yes, the one where we all got lost and ended up having to ask that farmer in a tractor where to go and he wouldn't tell us cos he thought we were here to set badgers loose on his cows?"

Anyway, whilst having one such conversation one of us took a wrong turn which resulted in about 50 of us getting lost. Time and time again we get told not to follow blindly like a sheep but being a sheep is just so damn easy. The Ridgeway is 99% very clearly marked but there are just a couple of points where another sign would be welcome. One such point is after around 8 miles where there is a left turn on a road (very clearly marked) and then a right turn into a field (sign is IN the overgrown hedge and so invisible) and we ended up running down another road for about a mile. The nice gentle descent was lovely and I think that's why everyone ran so far without thinking that they had not seen a sign for a while. Back up the hill then.

The first checkpoint was near a church and had a great collection of sweet and savoury snacks. I am rather partial to a sausage or 5 in situations like this and dug right in. On leaving the checkpoint we saw at least 20 others who should have been way out in front coming back the other way to get to the checkpoint. They had made the same mistake we had however they had gone on much further and managed to find their way back via a 4 mile detour. Everyone was pretty much back together again.

Around half way is where I'd expect the leaders from the faster group to start overtaking but it was hard to seperate them from the faster ones from the middle group. I bumped into Paul who I'd met at the UTMB earlier in the year and chatted about Spartathlon and the like, as you do. It was only later that day I realised that he ended up in second place, having strolled along to chat to me. How nice. The course skirts around Chequers and then up onto Coombe Hill where you can see again for miles and miles.

It started to rain, annoying drizzly rain that just made everything slowly wet but was persistent. Gemma was suffering with an ankle sprain that was hard in the mud. And there was plenty of mud up ahead. The trail became harder to run on even though it flatened out a bit, we were on sections where land rovers drive and churn up the path into pools of mud.

The rain persisted and it became dark. It happens suddenly when surrounded by trees and we waited till the last minute to put the head torches on. Many had forgotten theirs or not brought them as they couldn't imagine not finishing in the daylight. The path cut through a dis-used quarry with warning signs all over telling us to keep out. The path here was straight and narrow but without being able to see the floor very well it was slow going. I got chatting to a guy who didn't have a great torch and Gemma used this as an opportunity to fly off and head to the finish a good few minutes before me. Typical. The total distance Mr Garmin recorded was 31.5 miles and everyone had done 31-34 miles. A few had managed to stick to the route perfectly and clocked about 29.5 miles, which is cheating really.

Some of the beautiful leafy trail

These events are designed to keep costs down and to do that venues such as school halls and leisure centres are used to sleep for the night. You bring your own sleeping bags and mats and crash out on the floor with around 100 others. However Gemma had another idea, that we should stay in nearby B&B's and sleep in a nice bed. It felt a bit like cheating as part of the challenge is to do these events with hardly any sleep as there will no doubt be a number of runners who snore like tractors and get up 4 times a night to go to the toilet. Still I didn't complain as long as she sorted it all out. I sat down and had a few coffees and a couple of cans of Boddingtons and then we were on our way. We stayed in a nice place with another runner who was only doing day 2. After a hard days running and a good nights sleep we were told that we were not allowed to pour our own coffee from the pot as it was against health and safety regulations. Someone get me the Daily Mail again. I've so much to tell them.

Day 2 - Watlington to Wantage

Our lovely B&B hosts took us to the start but we still missed it while I was in the toilet. Gemma (who waited for me this time) left a couple of minutes after everyone else at 8 (there was also a 7 and 9 start) and slowly caught up to the back end of the middle group. I recall last year I set out with the fast group and was quite near the back and worrying about getting lost. The weather had cleared from yesterday, not too much mud and no rain was forecast. Of the 3 days I think this is the best one in terms of great running. There are a few more miles of the wide muddy track and then you are into the woods again, up and down under the trees. It was still a little on the wet side but this is up there with the best running you can do in the UK. The path is challenging but all runable, could be done at high speeds if you are into that kind of thing.

Even the trees were trying to stop usThis would be a joy to run in the summer and there is an opportunity to race the whole thing in one go in August. It is the same weekend as the UTMB and will no doubt involve a lot less cheese but would definitely involve a lot less getting jabbed in the face by idiots and their walking poles. I have no idea how the Romans marched up and down this when it was muddy.

For the whole of the second day you are treated to the sight of Didcot Power Station, it can be seen for miles around. The Ridgeway route decends then joins the river Thames at Goring and we are treated to some more mud that we had been missing since this morning. There was a checkpoint just before we had to cross the river and then onto the second half of the ancient path, where it gets a lot more exposed and chalkier. I was suffering a little bit with sore calves having run nearly 100 miles in the week before. Gemma was having sudden bursts of pace and for some reason can stride up hills much faster than I can.

Today felt a lot more relaxed, in part due to the earlier start which meant that none of us would be finishing in the dark. There was also the promise of a swim and sauna at the end of the day in the leisure centre we (or rather everyone else) was camped in. We finished on the path itself and then got rides to the centre we stayed at. We all bundled into the van and headed off and only 15 minutes later we were all hobbling wrecks from the sit down. I'm not sure what a sauna is supposed to do after a run, whether its good or bad to have one but I did anyway, staying in a 70 degree room for about 10 minutes before I was reminded of Badwater and craved a Big Mac again. I didn't bother with the cold shower. Not too sure what that is supposed to do either. After a race is it better for a cold bath or hot shower? I wish someone would decide. In the meantime I've heard no evidence to say that eating a big pie and chips and drinking 4 pints of local ale is bad in such a situation so that is what I did.

Day 3 - Wantage to Barbury Castle

As we walked to the start from our B&B (that allowed us to pour our own coffee, who do I report this to?) there was a mist that restricted visibility to about 20 meters. Last year on day 3 I remember the same stuff, making it much harder to pick out the signs. Fortunately it was clearer when we got up back to the path. Today was more of the same, some wide paths that were likely to be churned up and some very slippy chalk. We saw a lot more villages and houses on this part of the route which was nice, saying hello to people walking their dogs.

Gemma was really struggling with a swolen ankle but was very determined to finish. Before now she had not even done a back to back marathon before and now having run the first 31.5 miles (further than ever before) and then another marathon she was going to finish the whole thing off with another marathon. I said to her that after this we could go on one of those awful programmes where you swap partners for a week. Some fat TV addict would have a fit if they thought we'd put them through this. Imagine that? "What's that? you want me to run 82 miles in a weekend? I'll miss X-factor".

Those enjoying the full race experience :)

I like to feel a bit self-righteous when doing these kind of things. On another Sunday I might still be in bed with a hangover and unwilling to get out of bed until 12 and then only be capable of frying some eggs and logging onto facebook to assess the damage from the previous night. It's quite nice to think that you can explore some of the country, run 26ish miles, meet some new people and catch up with others and think about how you are going to deal with a 12000 calorie deficit later in the evening. It would not have been that much though, I had just eated 10 cocktail sausages at one of the checkpoints and there was plenty of food at the end of the day.

Gemma and I were at the back (defending the rear from enemy fire as it's known). There was another chap called James who seemed to be suffering more than Gemma was. He had hurt his toe quite badly and looked really uncomfortable. I overheard a phone call he made where he said "Yeah, just calling to take my mind off this horrible run. My toe really hurts and my Ipod is dead and everyone has run off and it's raining". He seemed a bit dejected but we ran with him a while and as soon as the Iboprufen kicked in he felt a little happier. He explained that this was the first event of this kind and that the furthest he had raced before was a half marathon on road. Pretty amazing that he would have the balls to go straight for something like this but good on him, what an event to finish off the year with.

These events are great for anyone looking to venture into multidays for the first time. You will find at least a dozen more people who are completely new to this too and a lot more who are more experienced. There is not too much navigation involved, the courses are well marked. Lots of people use this as training for the Marathon Des Sables and by carrying your kit it's ideal and Rory Coleman was there to help out and give a talk on the MDS on the saturday night. If you are doing the MDS you'll probably recieve a lot of emails saying to need to be in the sauna or oxygen chambers or all sorts of things that cost a load of money and distract you from what is the most important, the running. Those who complete an event like this will be in a very good position come next April. It sounds odd that you can train for a desert race by sliding about in the mud for 20 hours over a weekend but it's worked for the Brits for years.

Most of it was easily marked like thisThere was supposed to be a lot of history to see in this leg but the mist and rain covered it. We were not really looking at this stage though. Gemma and I were going at a consistent pace but not near anyone save for passing the occasional walker and being passed by one of the faster guys. It was quite nice, it feels like the middle of nowhere at times.

It had rained for much of the day but held off a little as we approached the end. The paths got muddier until with about 2 miles to go we hit the hills towards the end. I could not remember from last time how long this was as the hills just seemed to roll on and on. There was nothing around but fields, sheep and the M4. Finally a sign pointing us off the grass and onto some tracks and then a big yellow XNRG arrow pointing towards a small car park. We were done.

The finish was less grim than last year. It was not raining and there was space to stand around and drink beer. Having beer to buy at the end of each day was a nice touch, one of many that made the weekend so great.

Gemma did fantastically and I am very proud of her though next time we are going to do it properly and sleep on the floor like everyone else. Be warned everyone, bring your ear plugs...