Written by Jez Bragg - http://jezbragg.blogspot.fr

I knew it would be tight, but didn't quite imagine it would be that tight. Adrian Belton's record stood since 1989, and for very good reasons. It was a famously solid record illustrated by the fact that no one has really come close to threatening it in 26 years. 
 
I wasn't really sure I would be able to change that, but you don't know until you try, and I knew full well this could be my one and only opportunity to (a) complete a Ramsay Round, and (b) lay down a solid time. So I prepared a schedule to get me round a few minutes inside the record (shared only with my support team), and set off from Glen Nevis Youth Hostel at 0300hrs yesterday in near perfect conditions - blue skies and just a slight breeze on the tops. The opportunity was there.
 
I was 20 minutes up after Leg 1 and feeling confident and in control, but the heat in the middle part of the day sapped my strength and chewed away at the 20 minutes to the extent that I was only on par with schedule at the end of Leg 2. No contingency time to play with at all, and some ambitious split times to achieve on the final Leg across Mamores involving 11 munros. It would be quite some battle to get the job done.
 
As a result the intensity of the whole experience cranked up significantly on Leg 3 - I clawed back a few minutes here and there - but in reality I was right on the cusp and it could have gone either way. 
 
With the margins so tight I kept thinking what it would feel like to miss out by a few minutes - it would be a difficult thing to live with. I genuinely didn't know the record was achievable until the second half of the descent off the final summit, Mullach nan Coirean. I've never thrown myself down a mountain so recklessly, but boy was it worth it. In training I ran the last split in just over 60mins, the schedule said 55mins, and we ran it in 49mins. That's what adrenaline does for you.
 
I arrived back to the Youth Hostel and the record was mine - 18hrs 12mins - knocking 11mins off Adrian's time.
 
It's impossible to put into words the emotions involved in a run like that, and how it felt at the end. A huge relief obviously, but it was an experience so epic and dramatic that it's almost too much to digest. I guess in time that will happen and I will gain a bit more perspective, but all things considered it certainly feels like a real career highlight.
 
I will put together a more detailed write up in the next few days along with some insights from my support guys, but for now I just want to say a massive thank you to my brilliant team who made it all possible:
 
Leg 1: Cam Burt, Chris Busby
Leg 2: Olly Stephenson
Leg 3: Jon Gay & Graham Nash
Static Support: Gemma Bragg, Charlie Ramsay, Murdo McEwan & Anna Busby.
 
Selection of photos (Photo Credits: Olly Stephenson, Cameron Burt & Gemma Bragg)
 
 
 

 
 

 
 







 

 

Written by Lee Masters

St Davids coast path marathon in the far western reaches of wales is a toughy but is well worth the trip from Bristol. This was to be my 37th distance event.

The majority of these were marathons, a couple of  multidayers and Dartmoor Discovery & Beacons ultra both on 2 occasions so knew what to expect on my 2nd running of this gloriously scenic event.

The first half of the race went well, a gentle pace with the intention of having a good day out. At around 14 miles I was starting to struggle slightly with sore legs, I sent my other half on her way as I didn’t want to hold her up. Approaching the marshall station at 15 miles I decided enough was enough as I was really starting to struggle. The intention was to advise a marshal that I was pulling out and warm down in the 2 miles back to race HQ. As I approached the marshal station I had what I can only describe as severe heartburn. This was not a major concern as I had had this on and off for the past week but had no symptoms on race day until this point.

I sat in a hut at the marshal station (Whitesands beach – On any other day this would have been an idyllic setting for a breather) within 10 minutes my heart burn had become agonising and so the call was made by the marshals to get the medic who was on duties at the event on the day.

Within what felt like hours but was probably little more than 10 minutes I was led down & aspirined up by the paramedic and wired up to an ECG machine. The results looked a bit suspicious but at the time were thought to be due to the effort of running 15 miles with what looked like a chest infection. An ambulance crew was called in to be safe and I was transferred to the ambulance to be taken to Haverfordwest Hospital for tests. My ECG details were passed to the cardiac unit at Swansea Morriston Hospital for their opinion and my gentle journey to Haverfordwest was interrupted by a call from Swansea asking for blue lights straight to their unit (Watch out for the speed bump outside the hospital – brutal). This was a concern for me as even though I was on pain killers I was on my phone in contact with family & leaving messages with other colleagues who were at the event.

Swansea was a surreal experience. In short sign a form, catheter in arm, clot vacuumed out (& presented), stent fitted then wheeled to another room for cheese & pickle sandwich, chocolate cake and a much needed cup of tea. Had it sunk in that I had actually had a heart attack and I had watched the whole operation procedure on live x-ray, granted ex-smoker and diet full of snacks but I’m pretty fit & 41 years old. Even the cardiologist was a bit gutted for me. Just seems like I had a freak incident and was just very unlucky. Blood pumping due to the event which pulled a bit of plaque from the artery wall and caused the clot. (Don’t panic all you runners – this was a rare occurrence)

Swansea staff were superb and I was referred to as the athlete which was a nice touch but also made me a bit down as I immediately wondered if I would get to do events again. A few “inmates” couldn’t find any news articles in the local papers. We then collectively agreed it’s probably  because normally heart attacks in marathons are only news worthy if the end story is bad news. Maybe I was lucky.

The last few weeks have been hard. Family, Friends and my good lady have been wonderful. Even though I’m the one who had the attack the thoughts of will it happen again, what do I do now, does he need babysitting have been through everyone’s mind let alone my own.

Despite various clerical issues & waiting lists (Long story and not going to get political here) I will eventually have more tests to confirm the damage done (Low EF a few days after for those in the know) and will be sent on a rehab course. Although I am a phone call away from support there is little  (if anything) for family, friends. It is quite scary how much this affects those close to me & believe me they don’t know how much their support has helped.

I am spending a lot of my time at the moment going for walks. Guide is brisk walking and not get too much out of breath. I am hoping that as I seem to be doing this with no serious issues that my pre attack fitness has given me a head start on the way to recovery. I have also cancelled Outlaw triathlon & lakes in a day this year so that I don’t put pressure on myself. If I can get back to St Davids next year to finish the event (They do a half as well passing through my DNF spot) I will be a happy boy
 

Lee Masters

Written by Jules Roberts - virginmoneygiving.com/homelessrun

Jules Roberts
Jules Roberts carried a 10-kilo pack and slept rough on his run from London to Alsager, near Crewe, just before Christmas.

It was 11pm on 22 December. Dinner had consisted of two scotch eggs, a packet of pork scratchings, a lump of cheddar and a couple of oatcake biscuits. Hardly the best fuel to help my legs recover, having run 120 miles in the previous 40 hours and still with a significant distance to go. I was crawling into my bivi bag, lying on the cold floor of a pub car park on the outskirts of Tamworth. The smell of urine was overwhelming. It was my second night sleeping rough and I was beginning to wonder what I was doing.

A couple of months previously, I’d seen an announcement on Facebook from my favourite charity, Walking with the Wounded. They were launching this year’s Walking Home for Christmas campaign, which encourages people to walk home from their office in the runup to Christmas. This year the money raised was going to help homeless former servicemen and women. One in 10 homeless people in the UK used to serve in our forces. This statistic really hit me and I decided that I was going to get involved. As I’m an experienced ultramarathon runner, running the three miles home from my office wouldn’t grab anyone’s attention. I was, however, going to my parents’ home in Alsager near Crewe for Christmas – 160 miles away. Plan made: I would run back to their house over three days and, in keeping with the homeless theme, would carry all my kit, and sleep rough en route. Before I could back out, I put a statement of intent on social media, and that was it. No way out …

At 8am on 21 December, I was outside my office in central London. I was going to be joined for the first 20 miles by ultrarunning legend Pete Chandler, five-time finisher of the 145-mile Grand Union Canal Race. This was a man I needed to listen to for tips. We set off, central London eerily quiet early on a Sunday morning. My bag, which weighed 10 kilos, immediately started digging into my shoulders and rubbing my lower back. This was going to be a long three days. Mercifully, the weather was compliant: cold, yet dry. We cruised up Edgware Road, heading out of London; we crossed a motorway and whooped with excitement having crossed the M25 and therefore “left” London. Only 15 minutes later did I realise it was the M1 and we had some way to go until the M25. Never mind. In almost no time we had hit St Albans, Pete’s stopping point. A quick embrace, obligatory selfie and he was gone.

Then the slog started. Once I hit the other side of St Albans, it was on to the busy A5 and head on into traffic. I simply had to plug away. I hit Dunstable and a car pulled over; a couple thrust £20 into my hand, which really cheered me on. The boost was huge, my pack felt featherweight, and I sprung off again. Time to resupply on liquids again, and a McDonalds appeared. I knew I was short on calories and needed some caffeine so I created what at the time I thought was the world’s best sports drink. A large chocolate milkshake, supplemented with two double espressos and two packets of salt. Mix, stir and drink. I felt great for 30 minutes, then the effects of four shots of espresso kicked in. Wow. Maybe not the world’s best sports drink after all.

Darkness fell and I still had a long way to go to hit my target of 60 miles for the day. Perhaps starting my run on the shortest day of the year wasn’t the smartest idea. I hit the double marathon mark in just under nine hours. Pleased with this, I updated Twitter accordingly. Seconds later, there was a message from Pete: “Slow down mate, you’ve got a long way yet.” I was not going to ignore his advice, so made the decision to walk for the rest of the day. Plodding along the A5 dodging traffic was not much fun.

60 miles came up, and time to find a spot to sleep. I jumped a hedge into a field and settled down for my dinner of cheese, pork scratchings and whisky miniatures. I was cold, so cold. I struggled to get to sleep with the noise of the A5 ringing in my ears and nagging thoughts of foxes. I had seen a lot dead on the roadside. Was I in a fox-heavy area? Would they come for my food, or my face? In the early hours of the morning, something cold and wet touched my nose. A fox? Jumping up ready to do battle, I quickly realised it was the toggle from my bivi bag. It was not a good night’s sleep.

At 6.30am, I heard a “Helllloooooooooo” cutting through the inky black of the night. My friend, Christine, had come to join me for the morning. She brought coffee and sausages with her. Fortified by these and a quick radio interview, we set off. Slowly.

Day two was always going to be the worst. My legs felt like lead. The pavement on the A5 went, and we were running towards traffic on busy roads. We did not make many friends with the drivers. Christine’s energy kept my spirits high and I was desperate to absorb some through osmosis but alas, it did not happen. After about 20 miles and a lot of moaning from me, she had to go home, so we said our farewells and away I went, playing chicken with the entire Eddie Stobart fleet. I eventually conceded defeat. Google maps might think it is OK to run head on into traffic on a pathless dual carriageway, but I certainly didn’t find it OK and I am not sure what the police would have said. I pulled out the maps. The original route was the shortest way possible so this would add on distance, but safety first. At least I’d get on to some slightly more scenic roads.

Several hours of trudging through the darkness later, and another 60 miles down, I found myself in Tamworth. Only 45 miles to the finish. But my primary concern was where to sleep. Should I push on up the road to get further out of town? At this point, my legs gave me the answer. I couldn’t move. It had to be as close as possible. Pub car park it was, then …

As I was questioning why I was doing this, I remembered: “I am running home for those who served our country and don’t have a home to run to.” That sobering thought put an end to my moaning and I drifted off. At 3am, the pub landlord woke me up. “Uh oh, he doesn’t look happy” was my first thought. Then he picked up my bag and walked off with it. “You’re NOT sleeping out here before Christmas mate, you are sleeping on my floor.” Three hours of blissful warmth were shattered by my alarm. Today was the last day, a big day. Time to get moving. I got the head torch on and set off in the dark.

Finally off the A5, I was running along the A51, the adrenaline of the final day had kicked in and I was moving well. Then, I saw a vision of beauty. Karl Hinett, a good friend, running legend and Walking with the Wounded veteran had come to join me for a few miles. Karl was badly injured in 2005 in Iraq by a petrol bomb and his recovery and outlook on life are truly inspirational. The word “hero” has lost its meaning these days, being applied to goal-scoring footballers, but Karl is the true definition of a hero. Having him join me lifted my spirits and we ran along catching up about some of our running plans for next year, his immortalisation in a Grayson Perry work of art, and his lovely new wife. The miles flew by, then time for him to go. Another embrace and selfie, and Karl took off the way we came. Moving a lot faster this time!

Jules Roberts
Jules Roberts bedding down for the night during his epic journey.

My pace dropped, the novelty of running with a 10-kilo bag had really started to wear thin. My back was raw and bruised. My knees were stiff. I was still really struggling to eat, managing one energy gel an hour. My body was screaming at me, everything hurt, I was depleted, broken down, but I was still moving and I only had 35 miles to go. Easy. I rounded a corner and a cyclist veered off the road. “Hi, Dad, nice of you to join me.” My dad had rode down to keep me going. “Eh, lad, this is meant to be a run, not a walk, get moving.” It was a great few hours, father and son, talking about why I was doing this, and he updating me on how well fundraising had gone.

When it was time for him to leave, I had 15 miles to go and I was seriously motivated to get it done, but the pain in my knee was horrendous. I was reduced to a walk. Jogging was too painful. I resigned myself to the fact it was going to be four hours until I finished, so plugged along. Darkness fell again, it started to rain. At this point, I didn’t care. Alsager approached, one mile to go. I got to the top of my road, almost home … and the railway crossing barriers came down to let the London-Crewe train go past. The train I usually get.

I got to my parents’ house and they were waiting outside. A hug, a laugh and a quick reflection on the epic 165-mile journey, but this wasn’t the finish – the pub was 200m away. It was probably the slowest 200m I have ever covered.

I managed three pints before I started to drift off, but that was long enough to briefly reflect. What an experience. I am a veteran of many ultramarathons, but this was the hardest I have ever done. The monotony and danger of running on the roads, the heavy bag, not being able to eat. Normally in a race, the lows are offset by highs, but the second day was such a constant low, it was a battle to get through. But the corresponding high at the end cancelled out all of the suffering. I have been blown away by the generosity of the public. People I have never met going online, stopping me in the street and donating. My friends and family have been incredible, too. This is what Christmas is really about: not the consumption, but doing something for others and feeling good about it. This is the best Christmas present I have ever given myself.

If you wish to donate go to virginmoneygiving.com/homelessrun

Written by Matthew Hearne - http://www.svp100.co.uk

Everyone loved Paddington Bear when they were a child, right?! Well, imagine my excitement when I found out that Paddington Bear was coming to London in the form of statues scattered throughout the city, designed by various celebrities.

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In celebration of London’s art, culture and innovation, and the release of Paddington the movie – visitlondon.com, the NSPCC (National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children) and STUDIOCANAL presented The Paddington Trail from November to December 2014. They distributed over 50 bears across London close to museums, parks, shops and key landmarks.

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I kept on seeing photographs of various friends with the statues on Facebook. They were clearly a popular attraction, as the bear near my office in Bank was always surrounded by people taking their photograph with him. One day, I saw that a small group of friends from the Serpentine Running Club had been for a jog around a number of the bears, and that made me think…I wonder if anyone has managed to visit every single statue in a single day on foot. ‘No’ was the answer (after all, who would be so crazy?), so I decided to use my SVP100 Race Director experience to arrange a run with a few friends.

The first challenge was to determine the optimal route and distance between all of the bears to see whether it was indeed possible. After downloading the Paddington Trail brochure, I set about capturing the postcode location of each bear. Having completed a Masters degree in Geographic Information Science many moons ago, I knew it was going to be possible to create a map of all the points. However, I also knew that it was going to be incredibly challenging to determine the optimal route. Just look up ‘Travelling Salesman Problem’ on the Internet, and you will see the mathematical complexities involved, particularly with over 50 bear locations.

With the help of an ultra running friend (Rob Whitmarsh) from the Serpentine RC, and another friend from the Datchet Dashers (Jonathan Davies), we set about trying to determine a route between the locations. We came up with a few suggestions, with an overall distance of ~50 miles. As such, it sounded feasible as a run, but I really wanted to sense check the route. To do this, I contacted a former employer called Geoplan, who specialise in spatial problem solving. They very kindly took my list of postcode locations and provided a suggestion for the optimal order of bears. This was fortunately very close to one of our original ideas, so we fine tuned our route and calculated that the run would actually be closer to 48 miles.

Ideally we would have started out at Heathrow T5, the location of the most Westerly bear. However, some of the bears located near the O2 Arena (the most Easterly location) were only accessible up until 5pm in the evening. Given the time constraints, we decided it would be more sensible to start at the O2 Arena and finish at Heathrow. That way, we could see most of the outdoor bears in daylight hours.

So, the next thing…would anyone actually be interested in running around all the bears? I set up a Facebook event and socialised the idea on the Ultrarunning Community page, in addition to emailing the Serpentine RC. I was amazed by the enthusiastic response I received, and within a couple of days it appeared that I was not going to be running alone. Richard Cranswick had also shared the event with the Social Ultra community, and word started spreading. At one point, people started signing up at such a fast rate, it was necessary to change the privacy settings on Facebook as I was worried about the logistics of having too many people running through London.

With the popularity of the concept growing, I decided that I’d need a small team to help out on the day, along with an objective for the run itself. My enthusiastic friends Rob and Jonathan kindly volunteered their services, in addition to a chap from the Clapham Chasers running club called Adam Marcinowicz, who had previously cycled around every single bear. With Adam’s expert knowledge of the bear locations, Jonathan’s expert navigation skills, and Rob’s creative flair with a camera, we were ready to tackle the challenge. Given that the bears were going to be auctioned off in order to raise money for the NSPCC, it was also a good idea for us to try and raise a little money for this charity whilst we were running. As such, I had responsibility for the social media side of things, Tweeting throughout the day under #marmaladerun with the link to our fundraising page.

We met on a bitterly cold Sunday morning on the 28th December, just outside the O2 Arena, unsure of how many people would actually turn up to participate. After negotiating with the security on the door to the arena, we were kindly let into the warmth to hang out by the coffee shop. Within a short space of time we started to see others dressed in fluorescent clothing, clearly there to join us. By 9am, we had a nice group form, and clad in the bright green colours of the NSPCC, we set off to find the first couple of bears within the O2.

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I could give you a very insightful breakdown of our progress throughout the day, but I’ll spare you the detail. However, our route can be seen in the map towards the bottom of this page.

As we started running between the bears, we began picking up other runners. We all felt a bit like Forrest Gump in the scene where he is running across the US. At one point, there were 23 of us, which was a really nice number of runners to manage. Many more than that and it could have become problematic keeping everyone together. The group contained quite a mixture of capabilities, ranging from seasoned ultra runners, to those who had not really run further than a half marathon before. I’m not sure whether it was the excitement of seeing all the bears, or simply the excellent camaraderie on the day, but the miles flew by. Before long I heard people saying “this is the furthest I’ve ever run” and the bears certainly motivated one of the runners (David Evans) to complete his first ever ultra distance (i.e. over 26.2 miles).

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So, to try and keep this write-up as short as possible, I’ll summarise my personal highlights and a few of the more difficult moments.

Highlights:

  • - The beautiful sunny weather, with clear blue skies;
  • - Having such a happy, friendly group of people to run with, representing a range of running clubs;
  • - Taking in so many amazing sights around London on a single day;
  • - Knowing that we were receiving sponsorship money whilst running around the bears;
  • - Seeing some friends run their longest distances ever;
  • - The huge smiles on our faces as we hugged the bears;
  • - The support from the general public along the way;
  • - The warm reception provided by our fellow runners as we arrived at Heathrow;
  • - The free food and drinks kindly provided by The Five Tuns in Heathrow Airport T5;
  • - Seeing all the Paddington bears in one day!

Tougher moments:

  • - Hanging around Greenwich Observatory at 9:30am, waiting for the doors to open;
  • - Navigating through the crowds of tourists and performers in Covent Garden;
  • - Leaving the penultimate bear in Chelsea knowing that there was a long stretch out towards Heathrow along a motorway;
  • - Trying to eat a frozen chocolate bar around 45 miles into the run;
  • - Running along a grassy verge whilst ducking under road signs on the approach to Heathrow T5.

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All in all, the run was almost exactly 49 miles in length (you can see the route below). Jonathan and I arrived at Heathrow T5 after 10 hours and 15 minutes worth of running, and Adam arrived approximately 50 minutes later. We had visited a total of 56 Paddington bears, with photographs taken at each location. It had been a fantastic day, and we were lucky to have been joined for most of the run by a lovely group of runners. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the challenge and there is now talk of doing something similar around Shaun the Sheep in London and Bristol! Paddington Bear, you have inspired us!

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If you enjoyed reading about this challenge, please feel free to donate to NSPCC through the following link: https://www.justgiving.com/teams/Marmalade

Written by Stef Schuermans - http://85.12.32.240/~meneerstef/CharityRun/

In the beginning of May 2014 I not only challenged myself, I challenged everybody I knew. I told everybody that when they would donate to the foundation of Leo, I would run. For every donation made I would run further. In the next months I saw the amount rising and by this, I also saw the distance rising. First I got to 50, soon I was at 100 and than it got scary … Very scary! In the end I ended up having to do 139km and 279 meter due to having raised 4703 zl or 1175 euro.

This is the story of the run…

Since there was no race I would be doing this in but more a solo-supported effort I arrived at work with my stuff and left with a colleague who was living south. After a 100 km ride and a 30 km hitchhike I arrived at my starting spot. Here I had the last solid food and it would take me almost one and a half day until the next time of solid food.

At exactly 18.26 I started, ready to run for 24 hours and finish around the same time in Lodz in Piwoteka to sit down with a nice fresh beer but the road to get to my beer seemed so much further and actually was that much longer!

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Since I left right after eating I decided to start very slowly. I was in the citycenter of Csestochowa and actually wanted to take my time to see it because I had never been there. The first kilometers was a bit of jogging and walking to see the sights and I was actually enjoying them. Nice sights and nice things to do.

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Upon leaving the citycenter I quickly stopped at a small shop to buy water since I started without and I discovered that the average biologist would show a huge interest into my camelbag, unfortunatelly I was sure that my inside wasn`t so happy with it but I still filled it, you never know what would happen later on in the run and continued running.

After 10 kilometer I came on the road I had to follow for more than 30 kilometer and this was a real disaster! Extremely busy road and a constant of 30 meters running and getting of the road. Progress was still there but I was spending loads of energy on a small distance …

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Soon night was setting and it was getting dark and I was still on this stupid road making slower and slower proces. After 37km I finally arrived at the end of this road and I was exhausted. Big lights of cars, trucks, … Going of the road into the higher grass every 100 meters and a lack of sleep. It was time to slow down a bit otherwise I would be completely blown up by the time I would reach the 50km.

I reached the end of the first marathon around 2 o`clock in the night after going for 7 and a half hours and it was time for a small nap. Big lights, busy road and a marathon it had killed me so I laid down in a small busstop and closed my eyes. 20 minutes later my alarm went off and I snoozed it for another 10 minutes.

It was time to go again, I was on a smaller road with less cars and I would be able to make some progress before my support car would arrive in an hour. I only forgot one thing … My legs were sore and after struggling for an hour I had barely done 3km. Here my crew let me know that it would take them longer and my battery of my phone died and I slowed down to 2 or 2.5 km an hour. I was dying and had barely done 47 km, still had 93 or double of what I covered to go.

In the next village there was a surprise which would speed me up though! Some stupid owner didn`t place their dog behind a fence and I was running away from a massive dog (the white kind a lot of old people have lol) 2km in less than 10 minutes and finally the dog let me go. The good thing about this was that I was running again and I kept running for a few more kilometers!

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After sending a message to Ania `Bieliki, I wait there, battery death` with the last 2 minutes of battery in my phone I continued running and upon arriving in Bieliki I saw the headlights of the Volkswagen I had been hoping for so badly. 200 meters to go till the crossing where they were heading for, I had now done 55.5 km and was sprinting! The sad thing was that I missed them by 20 meters and they seemed to have missed me and passed the crossing… Where were they heading and would they come back? Would I sit here in a town of 50 people for the rest of my night and what to do? 5 minutes later I saw a car coming back and was so happy to see some friendly faces after being alone for 11 hours …

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After my sleep in the busstop this was my second longer break and I loved every single minute of it, after being out for so long alone the company did me good and after some Cola and more water it was time to go. This time in the company of someone and I was walking next to my girlfriend more north…

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A kilometer or two later Kamil was waiting ready to run with me, it was time for running because we needed to get some kilometers done if I still wanted to finish on time. All was going great for the first kilometers and we were making good progress. The roads were calm and we were enjoying a stunning sunrise in the morning.

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Kamil stayed with me for 10 kilometer or so and it really did me good, the newfound energy from the company had me going pretty fast but soon I got a lesser moment and it was time for some walking and more and more breaks again. We now were at a point where the car wouldn`t be able to take the same road and I continued again with Ania over a beautiful cyclingtrack south of Belchatow.

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Since I started Belchatow had been the goal. It was 80 kilometers into the whole distance and would mean a good benchmark for me since I was well over half of the distance and it would be great to get there. After the beautiful cyclingtrack Kamil was waiting again and he made me run again. Though the speed was nothing compared to at the beginning we made very good progress and did 9 kilometers in 1 hour and 10 minutes.

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Finally we were in Belchatow where Ania was taking a nap in the car and I would spoil myself again with a longer break. 80 km done, 60 km to go and I just ran the last 9 kilometers. I was happy and still feeling ok. Apart from the first marathon, the last 35km went pretty fast and I made good progress. Icecream!!!

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I was now 80km far and from the start this was always considered the halfway point in my head. This was the point of no return and I just had to continue. The first 20km went smooth, 60km of suffering later I was in Belchatow eating icecream and ready for the next 60km which would bring me in Lodz and finally get me to Piwoteka to get a beer.

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I had Kamil and Ania with me which was a great support but I knew I would need them at the end more than I needed them now and I still had 60km to go to safe them for later I decided I would like to run a bit on my own to give them some sleep in the course of this and also to save their legs for later. Both of them had already done a lot of kilometers (more than I actually wanted them to have done at this stage) and they both hadn`t slept the night either.

So I set of in Belchatow alone and feeling ok for a stroll through the communistic flats which seemed to be everywhere and soon I found myself on the other side of Belchatow on a big road again with a very nice cycling lane and I was running again to see the car again after a kilometer or 4 to see that Kamil was asleep in the car and that Ania was waiting for me with some water and more elektrolytes. A few minutes later I was off again with no idea when I would see them again since Kamil was occupying the drivers seat while being asleep. Most importantly I was running smoothly still and making good progress! I found myself going of the big road and was running in the fields and feeling good. This was going good and making more and more process and suddenly there was a car with a Belgian license plate showing up behind me. Kamil obviously woke up and when passing me I told them to wait two kilometer further since I wanted to saviour the moment of me running instead of strolling and making this progress.

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A kilometer further I bumped into them at the crossing we were meant to be, I sat down while Ania took care of water and a gel and off we were again, still alone since I was feeling good. A kilometer further I discovered that this wasn`t the route and returned to see the Golf again. Quickly I told them to go to the point where I returned to measure how much extra I did, I wasnt planning on doing much more than I was supposed to do :-), and I continued my progress over the road and felt ok but was back to walking. Half an hour later I could get myself back to running and a kilometer or two later I found myself back at the car again (always great to see some friendly faces when going through hell yourself).

Kamil joined me now for a longer while. This part was going to be 6 km I saw on my schedule and I needed someone closer, my mind wasn`t in this anymore and the small pains were becoming cramps and I started to suffer badly now. Someone closer to me would be nice to keep me distracted from what I was actually doing and at the same time keeping the forward progress going.

While in the previous stages I was still running this now started to become an impossible task so I went back to what we had been doing before. Running and walking for 20 seconds had now become walking and sitting on my ass for 20 seconds. Though getting a DNF became less and less an option and not even something that was in my mind. It now became a matter to get closer to Lodz, meter by meter and no longer kilometer by kilometer. Every step was getting me closer to my goal and to the full return of the donated money.

If it wasn`t for the promises I made to a lot of people this would be the moment I would just stop, get in the car, take a shower and get pissed in a bar with a feeling of shame and a feeling of accomplishment. This was going to be make it or break it… But forward we went, always forward. Kamil was motivating me just to try running again but cramps were everywhere the moment I tried to run so I went back to 4, 5 or 6km an hour walking. But even that was hard to do and often enough I had to sit down because I really couldn`t anymore…

After 6 km we arrived at the car again and I was happy to see Ania smiling when seeing me and a happy face was something different (no bad feelings) than Kamil who had joined me for the last hour and a bit who heard me whining from the beginning to the end. One more marathon to go!

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After more water, gels and a cola I asked Ania to move the car exactly 3.3km. This would bring me to the lovely mark of 100km and off she was and Kamil could hear me whining again for more than half an hour. But this time it was different, in my mind there was a new finishline built in 3.3km and I was running again. Not that the pain was less, the pain was worse! But I wanted this over and make it to 100km so progress was surprisingly fast. and a bit later we arrived at the car. 100km done, a bit less than 40 to go. Progress was going fine and I was getting close but every single part of my legs and feet was in pain at the moment …

100km done and 39 and a bit to go. I was more and more feeling like I was in another world and no longer part of it, the only thing I kept doing in my head was pushing myself forward and convinving myself that great things would happen within 10km, 100m or even as little as 5 meters further.

Ania and Kamil left me behind here and I would be on my own for the next kilometer. These moments always gave me the time to update facebook, reply to texts or just watch around how birds fly (they seemed to fly different somehow).

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After 2 kilometers I was awaited by a smiling Ania and Kamil in his running shoes, ready to make me run (ambitious but thanks again). We told Ania to wait 6 kilometer further and off we were. The first 3 kilometers I just walked, though still with a good spirit but in pain and after this walking I tried to run again. 100 meters was all my legs had but I was so happy to use other muscle groups. This kept going on for a while, running 100m and walking another 500meters and in the end I saw that beautifull Volkswagen again! You have no idea how beautiful silver VW`s are when you have been looking forward to seeing it again.

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My bottle was filled again, I ate more gels, drank a cola and off we were again (these breaks would in general take me 2 minutes to 10 minutes depending on how I felt). Kamil was still with me and I was savouring the company but the company was pushing me badly. This became the point where I became unfriendly to him I think. Somehow my mind kept telling me that I could do it slowly as well or sit down for a bit but than Kamil would tell me I had to keep going while the rocky surface was so soft, so nice to sit on, so enjoyable, so perfect! Why did I have to walk? Can`t he see I was suffering, can`t he show some compassion?

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Thinking back about this, and whatever I told you in the next few hours, sorry Kamil!!! (again!) Without Kamil pushing me I would probably be stretching my legs and relaxing there for a day or three … It was so nice!!! After three kilometers of walking, sitting, walking, … There became more and more need of stretching and sitting and stretching and sitting. The moment I was on my legs I was in pain and I had cramps all over my legs.

Kamil still tried to make me walk more than sitting down but I now even started to get cramps the moment I was sitting down. Slowly we were getting further and further and suddenly we got a text from Ania saying she was parked a bit further up the road than planned. This was not what I wanted to hear now because the only thing I wanted was to be at the car and have a longer break, sit down for a longer time and try to get some liquid in my body…

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On one moment I just decided to call her and tell her she had to come back, I had enough of this, enough of this pain and enough of whatever it was what I was going through. Even though it wasn`t that far anymore, just 20 something kilometers to go it felt bloody far :-)

Ania came back and after sitting for 15 minutes it was time to go again but this time I would go with Ania, Kamil was a harsh harsh boy and it was time for some more distracting talking. Due to my break it was possible to walk again with less pain. The speed of the walking was well down now but there was still some kind of progress.

20 hours earlier I asked Ania to download some 2 Unlimited and in the middle of nowhere after being awake for 36 hours hearing 2 Unlimited is better than being drunk in a club. Singing along with the music (yes I know there are better choices of music but not here and on this moment, 2 Unlimited meant partytime!) I was walking, shaking my arms on the music and singing along!

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A few kilometers further there was the beloved VW again and I lay myself on the ground next to it to hear more music playing! This time it was accordeon played by a group of people who were sitting on a carriage behind a horse! Luckily still no hallucination and there really was a carriage and a horse with people having a party. They chatted some in Polish but I really couldn`t be interested in what was going on around me, laying felt so good!

They offered Ania and Kamil some Wodka, but my request to get some seemed to be fully ignored, even though I wouldn`t mind a bottle or three to get the pain out of my legs. Soon enough me and Ania set of again and progress was still made. A kilometer further we arrived at the car again and I told Ania to join Kamil for a bit and I was on my own for another kilometer. 20 kilometer to go now …

20km didn`t seem like a huge amount of distance to go but with the feeling I had it seemed like I had to start all over again. We were of after 10 minutes and cramps kept going all over my legs and I was starting to feel terrible. My stomach started to protest, my back hurted and all I wanted to do was lay down and sleep. But with 20 km to go and 4 more hours till Piwoteka/the finishline I just had to push on.

The next 4 hours were hell though. Even though I ran for 200 meters (maximum) I felt like the only good idea was to sit down which I also started to do every 500 meters, or every 200 meters and sometimes even after 100 meters. I couldn`t do this. After 2 kilometer of sit lay walk sit lay walk it was 2 more kilometer till the car and I just had to go through. I decided to keep going for the whole 2 kilometer. No more sitting down, no more laybacking and just to push on. I was in hell but I came closer and closer to my Duvel (Belgian beer means devil) in the bar afterwards.

After the long busy road and 2 kilometers further we had to turn right, Ania told us she was parked at Carrefour around the corner. When turning this corner this was totally not what I was hoping for and I saw a light of Carrefour in the distance. I was broken, I couldn`t keep doing this and felt my stomach protest even harder and had to hang on a three for a while to see if I could throw up whatever was in there which was causing this. The end result was that before and after the same amount of bullshit was in my stomach and nothing was out.

500 meters? How far is 500 meters? Well, FAR!!!

I think speed here was 2.5 to 3 km/h (Kamil correct me if wrong) and without Kamil I would just crawl in a ditch out of the wind and hide for a few hours. Nobody needed to know what I was doing and nobody needed to tell me what needed to be done.

When arriving at the parking lot I saw that the car was ON the parkinglot! 50 meters of the road, that meant 100 meters extra. Tears now literally started to roll over my cheeks and I was not happy. I was yelling to Kamil who was now 10 meters in front of me that he needed to go to Ania, let her move the car, I was not doing an extra 100 meters, I couldn`t. Kamil ignored my whole plea and told me to shut up since we were almost there…

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Upon arriving at the car I just walked to the trunk, opened it, took my sleepingpad and without saying a word I crashed. My whole body was shaking, my legs cramped up and all I could do was lay on my side waiting to feel better.

Ania became my big hero on this moment! She wrapped me in a sleepingbag, put a blanket around my head and told me to sleep. Here I only remember that it started to rain on one point but that`s all. I was under a blanket, I was where I should be, a bed!

20 minutes later I heard some noises waking me up. `5 more minutes`, `2 more minutes`, `1 more minute!` After 35 minutes under my sleepingbag I asked for my downjacket and sat up. I was feeling better, cramps were `doable` and I would continue but first I needed to get sugars in my body so I had another gel, a coke and some more water. When getting up to continue with Ania I had been there for 50 minutes.

During the time there Ania got worried about what was going on with my body, she had seen me shaking. Kamil said I needed 20 minutes (that`s why you need to have a long distance runner crewing for you, they never panic) and the people parked next to us suggested to call an ambulance because this wasn`t normal …

16km to go and actually when getting up I felt way better, I was still walking slow but I could think again and could have a conversation again. Ania was next to me and we continued our walk. After 7km we met up with Kamil again and I had still 9km to go. How was I going to do this?

My father had been trying to call me now for more than 2 hours and I decided to call him back. I told him how I felt and he suggested to continue tomorrow. Perfect I had a plan but first I asked Kamil and Ania what to do, they had seen me crash 7 kilometers ago and knew how I felt. Kamil said it was a good idea, Ania said I wouldn`t be able to walk tomorrow and now at least I was making forward progress…

We packed our stuff again and off we were. 9km to go …

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Long story short ;-) 139.5 km done in 30h45 minutes. Next time I do something in the mountains and way less concrete.

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Thanks everybody who donated to `let me do this distance` and mainly loads of thanks to Ania and Kamil. Kamil though it seems like I hated you sometimes (which is actually true) I am very glad you pushed me this hard and you kept speed up so my progress would be faster! Without you I would never have made this!!! Ania thanks for being there with me and walking so much with me! Kamil ended up doing 38km with me and Ania 31km which is probably the furthest she ever did in a day!

Thanks a lot to both of you!

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And for those still enjoying my reports please make a small contribution:

Name of the foundation:
Fundacja Pomocy Osobom Niepełnosprawnym “Słoneczko”

Adres of the foundation:
Stawnica 33, 77-400 Złotów, Poland

Account number for Donations:
IBAN: PL 89 8944 0003 0000 2088 2000 0010
SWIFT: GBW CPL PP

With the note:
Darowizna na rzecz Leo Hueckel-Sliwinskiego 36/H

Written by Neil Bryant - First published in http://www.likethewindmagazine.com/

The day had been relatively uneventful, except the start which had been frustrating as I had camped in some deep snow only about two km short of a hut which Charlie and Mark, who were part of the support crew, had manned over night warming it with a woodburner. I trudged through the previous night during a blizzard that demanded my goggles getting dug out of my pulk. My body was tired and my eyes were closed more than open. I slowly walked, zombie like through the night which was as black as tar. Occasionally I would step off the harder packed snow on the barely visible skidoo trail and would sink up to my thighs. An angry struggle with the snow would ensue as I struggled to get back on the trail. I knew that the hut was on this section of trail but the tiredness took hold and I thought that maybe I had passed it so eventually decided to set up camp. I was soon in my tent melting snow for my freeze-dried meals and of course a drink. I was, typically for me, struggling to stay well hydrated.

The next morning when I had packed up my pulk again and had continued down the trail I soon saw the hut just off to the left. I saw the teams skidoo and this confirmed that I had missed the luxury of a warm hut by a couple of km. What a waste of my time setting up and breaking camp and tediously melting all that snow. I tried with what mental capacity remained to not let this relatively minor negative event flow into the rest of my day. After a short stop in the hut, I continued on my way. The trail soon deteriorated from the hard pack (my feet were still sinking 5-10cms) to deep snow. I strapped myself into the skis and kept moving. I must keep calm and positive. I had a feeling that I was being tested. Navigation wasn't easy for this section, but after crossing the border into Norway, I found myself on a trail. After a while the snow was hard again so I removed the skis. I knew that I moved faster on my feet than skis. I often thought how great it would be to do an event like this and actually be a good backcountry skier i.e. Norwegian..

Just before it got dark I realised that I was south of where I wanted to be so decided to follow a less visible skidoo trail that would take me hopefully back on course. After about an hour I had come to the incredibly frustrating conclusion that I had made a bad decision. Stay calm and keep it in perspective. I was now travelling through very deep snow with no trails in the dark. I followed a GPS way point which signified a point on the trail. Once there I saw no sign of a trail. I sat in the snow exhausted and frustrated. I felt lonely for the first time in 10 days but the dominant feeling was one of frustration at my stupid error.

As I sat there I listened to the perfect silence surrounding me. I held my breath to make it complete. Although I was conscious that I was now at a real low point, I felt truly blessed to be sat in this particular spot away from the trail and in a true wilderness which to me is true beauty. This is what I came here for. These moments are worth the pain and hardship that it takes to get me to these points. In fact, without the testing journey that placed me in this particular location at this moment in time, the experience would be worthless in comparison.

My journey in ultra running begun at the ripe old age of 30, 8 long years ago. Initially I was a cyclist that trained doggedly but struggled for results. I tried a marathon out to see how I'd fare with running. My natural ability was definitely a little more with running than cycling. I then had to see what I could achieve. Performance was my initial target. I wanted to be quick and win races. As time moved on though, things have evolved, or devolved(?). Training became more and more unstructured as I started to run my own long runs of up to 100 miles with little or no support, during winter or Summer. I was having some truly incredible experiences on these runs and the physical and mental challenges faced when out for 24hrs unsupported are considerable compared to being supported in a race.

I prefer to be unsupported if it's safe as this for me makes it more my own work. It is slower and harder, but the entire creation is your own. When I take part in a long race, especially the super long races of 150 miles plus, your mental being is slowly broken down. Your ego is painfully torn from you and you are then pure. You are transparent and honest. Emotion pours from you and all comments and actions of a macho nature cease to exist. You are broken down to the real you that can only be true and honest. No walls to hide behind.

This can be a painful process but overall it is a rewarding time and during this state you experience the real highs. I have cried many times during races over things which normally would barely get noticed. For me it is nearly always happy moments that bring on the tears. Often I am a little confused, but now I accept this as real moments of happiness that my 'normal' self wouldn't notice.

I know I'm not blazing any trails here, but I am so excited to be at this exciting point in my devolution, and even more exciting is where my trail will go from here onwards. I hunger for the beautiful experiences that have got me here but as time flows, so the scale of the run grows. I feel like a junky, except the highs are more beautiful than anything obtained from a substance.

So, why do I run? I run because it brings me to a state of being that is true and free. A state that is fragile yet so beautiful. Physically I will be in an incredibly beautiful place that I will have a deeper appreciation of. I begin to feel as though I am a part of my natural surroundings rather than I am an outsider just visiting. Running has been the most emotionally charged and exciting journey I have ever been on and I feel like I have only just begun.