Written by Murray Turner - http://getoutmoor.blogspot.co.uk

Chinnor: Start of RTTS Traffic. Lots & lots of traffic. As Rachel {who was running} and myself {who wasn't running, but should have been, but was told not to due to injury} headed north up the M5 and then East along M4, all we  could see was traffic. Cars , lorries, caravans, vans. Stop.Start. Stop.  The shear volume of motor vehicles - and idiots who think it is their divine right to drive in the middle lane and not on the left. Sorry, had to get that off my chest. This is a blog about Rachel's superb effort at her inaugural 100km Ultra and my inaugural attempts at support crew Five hours after setting off we reached our base camp for the week end, Blackland Lakes Campsitein Calne. Pitched our tents and started last minute preparations for the big day tomorrow. So far so good, except Rachel realised she had forgotten her purse. Too late now, and it's not like she would need it for the run. Plans for a good nights sleep were shattered by several hours of violent and very loud thunder storms and rain. So after only a couple of hours sleep, it was coffee time at 04:00hrs. As this was a 'one way ' race,  we had decided that it would be better to stay near the finnish {Avebury}, than the start {Chinnor}.  Precise and detailed pre planning had calculated that it would take us 2hrs to get to Chinnor. Plenty of time to park and register. No worries. So off we went at 05.00hrs. Best charge you phone as we drive I said.  Oh, no phone [required kit], so a quick return to campsite to retrieve said item. Ok, no worries, plenty of time. It's all in the planning. Motorway was , thankfully, quiet {yet there were still vehicles driving in the middle lane on a virtually empty motorway}. Route was planned with military precision. Half hour to go, turn off motorway, head north to Chinnor. Oooo, something is wrong. This doesn't look right. Let's stop and look at the map. Ah, problem solved. We had been on the M4 and not on the M40, where we should be. Ooops. I wont say whose mistake that was Rachel, OK? Time was now running tight. Don't panic. We can still do this. And so we did. Just. There was a last minute panic as traffic was backed up all through Chinnor, but I guess thats what happens when you arrange the start in a small rural town with no transport links and expect 1600 people to turn up at the same time. So Rachel got out of the car and ran to the start. What's a few more hundred metres when you're about to run 100km? Registration completed. Last toilet break. And relax. We had made it to the start, not just on time- but with time to spare. Now all Rachel had to do was run 100km. The start was late and the safety briefing was inaudible for a lot of us; but at least it wasn't raining yet {the forecast was for major storms}. Last good wishes and then it was off. Good luck! My job for the day was to drive around and meet Rachel at certain places along route,  and make sure she was OK. Race to the Stones is an Ultra Marathon along The Ridgeway. One of Englands oldest trade routes, it is over 5000yrs old and stretches from the Dorset to the Norfolk coast. A route as important as this needed to be well defended- and it is. There are several magnificent Hill Forts along its route as well as other important sites, such as the Uffingtom White Horse . The runners and long distance walkers would be following the Ridgeway from Chinnor - Avebury.   Our first rendezvous was along the Thames Path, some 20km or so from Chinnor. I had the luxury of driving to South Stoke {and other sites} and ambling along the Thames and its countryside. The runners had to run it! So I ambled and took photo's and ran a bit, cheering along other runners and meeting up with Rachel. We ran some together before reaching the Aladdin's Cave Smorgasboard of the boot of the car. The weather was very , very humid , so I ensured that Rachel drank extra electrolytes. As well as eating plenty of Marmite Cheeses. Food of the Ultra Gods. A little sock faff and that was it. Next stop was in another few hours around the 50km mark. Time for a spot of lunch and chat with other support crew /spectators / family / friends in the sun before a little stroll to meet up with Rachel      again. I came across her near one of the check points [4 or 5?]. She was looking very sprightly. Toes looked a bit odd, I discovered as shoes and socks were changed. Tapped up, Patched up and go. But not before more cheese & electrolytes. The weather so far had been kind. OK, it was humid, but there had been reports of major thunder storms. And just at that point the first rolls of thunder were to be heard. Ho hum. Maybe a little rain would cool everyone down. I didn't say that too loudly in front of any running though. Time for a little sight seeing for me know One of the next stretches of the Ridgeway contained Uffington White Horse, Uffington Castle andWayland's Smithy. I was quite excited about this, but just as I arrived at the site of Uffington Castle, The Weather arrived. Temperature dropped, big black clouds, high winds, torrential rain, lightening, thunder and then hail. BIG hail. Large pebbles of ice being thrown out of the sky with some force. Then the sun came out again. I was still in the car, but I did fear for the safety of those runners.  Slight delay, but there was still plenty of time -based on previous contact & race pace - to have a wee look around Uffington White Horse and the Hill Fort, before meeting Rachel again. It is easy to see, even now some 3000yrs  after it was first constructed, why it was. Sitting on the Ridgeway, it not only guards the trade route [which actually predates the fort], but also holds commanding views. In medieval times, scouring of the neighbouring chalk White Horse was accompanied also by a massive community party in the remains of the hill fort.         A quick circuit of the Hill Fort, a couple of photo's , and back on the Ridgeway. I ran a fair section of this bit, in opposite direction of race, so as not to miss Rachel. Taking in the atmosphere, admiring the views and shouting words of encouragement at the participants. But after a while I began to suspect something was wrong; there was no sighting of Rachel. I had passed all the usual suspects who over the past few hours I had confused by running past them in the opposite direction several times, and knew were running at about the same pace as Rachel, and started to see new faces. I was now worried; she shouldn't be this far back unless something serious had gone wrong, so I decided to stop and get my phone out, to check if there had been any messages. Lo and behold there had.  A text from Rachel saying she had just seen the car parked up. This was sent at 19.05hrs. Time now was 19.45hrs. Rachel was now ahead of me. I had one job to do. And I blew it. Whilst having a jolly around Uffington Castle, Rachel had gone past. I hadn't seen her and had set off in the in the opposite direction intending on finding her. Ooops. I'd had a nice time none the less, taking in the views and archaeological sites; even had a nice little run. But that wasn't why I was here. It would be unlikely I would be able to see Rachel again before the end, so I hope she didn't need anything from the car. I did feel bad.         My drive back to Avebury was a slow one, racked with guilt about my failed mission, hoping it hadn't messed up Rachel's race. Parking up at the finish, the sun was just setting. A beautiful sunset over the Wiltshire countryside. I hope the runners appreciated it. As I had missed Rachel in broad daylight, I decided against running back out on the Ridgeway in the dark looking for her. Probably a sensible move, as I would also have been running into oncoming racers and blinding them with my headtorch. After 14hrs on your feet, you really don't need someone shining a torch in your face, however well meaning and accidental.          So I waited in the 'stones' section of RTTS, the one short section of Avebury stone circle that the race covers, cheered in runners, looked at the stars and messed around trying to take some arty photo's. Avebury  is an interesting village, springing up amidst one of Europes most spectacular Neolithic stone circles and ancient spiritual landscapes. The stones themselves being largely abandoned, destroyed or buried, either deliberately or through pure neglect, until the Victorian era. Leaning against one of these giant monoliths, head tilted upwards, a glimpse of the MilkyWay, transported back millenia, my inner hippy was awakened. Just why was Avebury built? How bright the sky must have been 1000's years ago! Where's Rachel? Ah there she is. Nearly missed her again!   After over 15hrs of running, Rachel was nearly finished. Less than 2km to go. I ran the last leg with her [and her new Ultra friend whose name I forget, sorry] and there was still life in the legs for a sprint finish. Outstanding. Collect medal. Get results. Sit down. Eat melted ice cream [long story]. All that was left was the short drive back to the campsite.         The day dawned on a new day and realisation that she was now an 'Ultra Runner'. Respect. Returned to Avebury for a touch of sight seeing and a photo opportunity. Wear that medal with pride.You've earned it.         Post race thoughts:    Rachel finished 255th / 594 finishers. Almost 100 DNF.  {Full results}. That's pretty damn good in for a first 100km. She enjoyed the route and said the official support and pit stops along the way were great. Special mention she said should go to the crew at pit stop 6, who rescued many a runner from the hail stones, held the tent down AND still served hot drinks.

Written by Anupriya Kapur - www.momontherun.in

The Bhatti Ultra organized by The Globe
Racers every year, is held in Faridabad, at the Asola-Bhatti Wildlife
Sanctuary. The trail is at once beautiful, brutal and demanding. It’s
race categories are truly ultra – 50K, 80K, 100K, 160K, 220K and 24 hrs
run – making it a multi-day event.
I heard about this run from my Runbugs buddies during our weekend
long runs. At that time, I was training for my first Airtel Delhi Half
Marathon. A friend told me he would be running in the 100 km category
and checked if I wanted to do “the shorter” 50 km one. Considering that I
was training for a HM in Dec and this 50K trail run was only 6 weeks
away – it was an outrageous proposition. But then again, I wanted to
redeem myself after the 50K DNF at Mt. Pinatubo, Philippines several years ago.
Frankly, for me, this entire redemption angle is always very seductive.
Tired of my mind and heart being at war for over a week, I signed up
for the race. I took help from friends who know and train better than me
to chalk out a training plan to increase my weekly mileage. It included
running 10K on alternate week days and a long run on weekends. I was
just targeting to finish the run within the official cut off of 8
hours. Of course, the plan was all good on paper, but tough to pull off.
To keep running every alternate day in the sultry weather wasn’t easy.
Tougher still was to wake up at 3:30 am to do the long runs on weekends,
especially during the Diwali season. It was funny to see people
wrapping up their Friday night’s cards party as we started our Saturday
morning long run. Also, given my love for teen patti, I felt miserable
each time I heard my friends discuss variations and spins, losses and
wins. But I had to stay focused as I didn’t have the luxury to stray
from my plan for even one day. On the brighter side, I met a lot of
runners who were also training for Bhatti and got some invaluable advise
on how to train injury free, what to eat during the training phase and
on race day as well. I tried to sleep early before the race day
but was sleepless in bed, thanks to the Diwali party in our society.
Every now and then Yo Yo Honey Singh warned “Party Yuhin Chaalegi”, and
rightly so. But after over an hour Bolly pollution, I found sleep.

Next morning, I reached the Bhatti trail about 30 mins before the
start time. It was pitch dark except a few lit up tents at the start
line. The race director pulled me out for not carrying a head lamp.
Given the number of injuries leading to DNFs from the previous two days,
I understood that her stand was absolutely fair. Thankfully, one of the
crew members let me borrow a pocket torchlight and I was allowed to
run.As we started off, I made friends with two army doctors who let me
run with them along the narrow trail. It is with the aid of their
headlamps that I was able to negotiate the treacherous trail. The
borrowed torch I had was no match to the trail’s darkness. As we ran in a
single file, I thought we were four of us – the two docs, a third guy
and myself. Staying true to my nature, I started talking to them as we
ran. I noticed the doctors were very quite and figured they were
conserving their energy, and only this other runner behind me responded
in mono syllables (“hmm”, “haan”) and grunts once in a while. However,
at about the 5K mark, even he went quiet. As we ran further ahead from
the aid station at 5K, I suddenly realized that there was no “this other
runner” behind me. Had he just dropped off from the race so early? But
in that case, why would he drop off so silently? Nobody does that! Was
he even there to begin with? Or did my confused, over-excited, nervous
state of mind just cook him up? I guess I’ll never know. Unreal!!Still
totally dark, when I reached the turn around point at 10K, I realized
how tough the trail was. It was slippery, rocky, uneven, and grainy. It
was no wonder that quite a few runners had had some nasty falls.
Nevertheless, I ran another 10K back to the start line. With 20K done, I
still felt strong. I was fairly hydrated and well fed. I was trying to
enjoy the run but started feeling exhausted and spent by the time I
finished 30K. I could not do much to keep myself going or to distract
myself and started walking. My legs felt heavy, making me unsteady and I
twisted my ankle more than once. I started scolding myself for getting
myself in this mess, for straying away from my HM training and taking
this up, for letting people talk me into this. “Why am I putting myself
through this? What am I really going to get out of this? What will I
really achieve at the finish line?” were just some of the many questions
on mind, which I had no answers for.

This Q & no A session brought me back to the finish line,
marking 40K for me. With another 10K to go, I think I was mildly
delirious and was making much noise about how I cannot go on and how
ready I am to throw in the towel. That’s when this angel appeared and
said “do you want me to pace the last 10K with you?” I had barely said
yes and we sped off. I gathered, he is a solid distance runner who had just
finished his 115K. The fact of it was staggering and humbling that I couldn’t help but run along with him, despite my broken self. I finally reached the finish line in 6 hours
57mins – over an hour ahead of my original targeted finish time.

I was at once exhausted and exhilarated. I felt famished, yet strong. Injured but victorious.

Written by Helen Crossland - http://hels205.com/

Where do I start? The terror. Oh the complete nullifying terror of this weekend has given me nightmares about running packs, falling of rocky paths, feet disintegrating rain, faulty headtorches and………. The list goes on. I took part in this event last year and got to Ambleside and just gave up! I had some very valid and pretty scary reasons at that point but ever since then I’ve been haunted by that decision. What went wrong? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why didn’t I just sit down and chill and make a decision afterwards? Dimwit!! I know I shouldn’t be so hard on myself and I didn’t let anyone down. I felt like I should have tried harder so ever since then I have. I’ve pushed and pushed and trained and tweaked until I could just keep on going no matter what. The recent failures after North Downs Way 50 brought back all the nightmares of failure. I really did not want to fail this time. I wanted to face my adversity. There was a pre-race speech with mentions of firemen and kittens, it was a – you had to be there – moment.
I arrived on the Friday after battling the M6 traffic; ultra-driving at its best. As soon as I arrived in Coniston I put on my race ready running pack and went to find Lesley, John and Karen at the school. The 100 participants were getting their race prep speech and I found my friends chilling out on the grass in front of the school. I was there, this is it. It’s real. Ugh!! That feeling of excitement and vomit inducing nerves. I kept repeating to myself – everything will be okay, everything will be okay, everything will be okay, oh good grief what am I doing, everything will be okay…….
We watched the 100 competitors from the bridge in Coniston. Every one of them having that look of determination, the occasional smile broke through but these athletes were on a mission. Awe inspiring stuff.
Afterwards I got my kit checked and myself registered and weighed. Heavier than last year, hmmmm. Too much carb loading? Or more muscle? It didn’t matter; there was nothing I could do about it now. A lovely meal in one of the local pubs and then Lesley and I headed off to get some sleep before it was our turn to start the next morning. Much faffing and kit checking later we got some sleep haha!!
Saturday morning was looking sunny and bright. The B&B we stayed in put on breakfast early for us, thank you. The morning just rushed by and suddenly I was sitting in the school hall with other 50 competitors getting briefed on what was to come. A whole load of why we were doing this. To confront adversity. If this was easy it wouldn’t be a challenge. Firemen and rescued kittens. Get out there and be awesome. The kind of people who work in IT. Don’t quit because it’s too difficult. Be awesome!
A quick toilet stop and we were being loaded onto the coaches. The day was staying sunny and the coach was warming up on our trip to the Dalemain estate. I had suncream to apply and one last pack check to perform. This kept me occupied a little on the coach. An interesting journey later and we’re at the estate ready to go. One more loo trip and we’re watching weary, hot 100 competitors whilst we pack ourselves into the starting pen for the start of our own adventure of 50 miles across the Lake District. I had agreed with Lesley before we started to run our own race. If she felt strong then keep going and I would keep going myself. I managed to keep up with Lesley for just over a mile before she started pulling away. My ankles felt like rocks, my feet were cramping, my knees just didn’t feel like working and the heat was energy sapping. Not my best 2 miles but I kept going, kept repeating to myself that it will get easier and I knew this bit. Get to Howtown, checkpoint 1, bag food and climb like it’s the last hill in the race!! What I forgot was there was a climb before Howtown, hahaha!! Yeah! It was that funny – not!! Every time I felt too tired to go on I would stop, turn around and take in the view. Awesome, beautiful views. Then I would get back to work, step after step up those hills.
The Howtown checkpoint arrived really quickly – 14:16. Bottles refilled, food bagged and I headed for the big climb up one heck of a hill that just keeps on giving! Just when you thought you were at the top there was more uphill to go. This hill may have felt the most difficult but I knew this one was the easiest climb. A nice clear path with no rocks that could be tackled with a steady pace. At the top I had a sit down and munched on my checkpoint bounty whilst cheering on other competitors as they arrived at the top of the hill. I got some bemused looks and some big smiles. TOP OF THE HILL!!!!! Then it was onto the next checkpoint at Mardale Head. Lots of twists, turns, rocky paths alongside Haweswater reservoir and soon you can see the checkpoint. More rocky paths then a bridge or two later and I was welcomed into the Mardale Head checkpoint – 18:06. Cola, drink, water bottles filled, food noshed and bagged, quick loo visit and I’m heading up the next climb. This time it’s a rock path that keeps twisting and turning. Lots of unwell looking competitors this time. I took my time of this one. I would stomp uphill for a while and then take a rest on a rock, more stomping, more rock resting, more stomping, more rock resting, enjoy the views, more stomping and so on. Bit by bit the hill was tackled and again at the top I cheered on others that had reached the top whilst I had a sit down and munched some food on top of the hill. The route from there to Kentmere was a blur or rocky footpaths, roads, wall styles and bracken. I met a couple at this point and we kept each other company until we got to the Kentmere checkpoint – 21:02. It was getting dark now and it had started to drizzle when we arrived so I got a very sweet cup of tea, slice of pizza, loo break, sweet tea, slice of pizza, half an apple. Then got myself changed into my waterproof bottoms, rearranged my pack so I could easily reach my head torch and my poncho, swapped my cap for my buff to keep my head warm, made sure everything was secure and agreed to help out another competitor, Bob, to Ambleside. Most of the route from Kentmere was easy going, there were a few climbs but nothing like before. Bob was going strong and kept up with some faster competitors so I was alone for most of this leg. Creepy dark lanes with my head torch as dim as I could comfortably get it to preserve the battery life. The rain after Kentmere was heavy but blissfully brief. I kept myself occupied with singing songs to myself and dancing when I came to tarmac. A few runners past me but being alone along that stretch was really odd. By the time I reached Ambleside at 00:34 I was in a really happy place having talked to myself for a good two hours!! My feet were really sore at this point so I decided to undress a little, get myself comfortable for the next stage and give the food I was stuffing into my face a bit of time to work its wonders before getting up and heading out of that checkpoint. It took a good 15 minutes for my feet to stop throbbing and another 10 minutes for the food to settle enough for me to get organised and out of that comfortable warm cosy checkpoint. I knew this next section well and the night reccie earlier in the year was flooding back to me at each turn on the route. Out of the checkpoint, into the park, over a bridge and yep, up a hill hahaha!! It was during this hill climb I met Ann and Nicola who were appeared strong but they felt they were struggling with the directions. I was confident and agreed to help get them to the next checkpoint. After the climb from Ambleside this leg of the route felt the flattest. I’m not sure if that was good or bad but my feet and legs hurt more from the constant walking pace than climbing and descending they had been put through so far. I enjoyed the clear night sky and kept up a good pace to the next checkpoint at Chapel Stile – 03:28. This was an inviting checkpoint with a log fire outside to get toasty and sleepy with. I kept myself on mission with a desperately needed loo break, kit check, sweet tea and custard to settle my stomach that was trying to figure out what the hell was going on at this time of night!! I had no appetite for food at that point but I knew I needed something that would give my poor stomach something to work on whilst I kept moving through the night. Ann and Nicola were ready to leave, it was so difficult to pull myself away from that lovely warm fire but we needed to keep moving. My feet were starting to complain constantly now and I was managing the pain well. The next section was a mixture of tricky rocky paths and open fields. I had planned to change my socks at the unmanned checkpoint because I knew there were two sections of boggy ground to cover but my feet never got wet or soggy because we followed the trampled path the other competitors had made for us. That was a very welcome and nice surprise. This section also had the most beautiful change in sky colour. When we left the last checkpoint the sky was black, by the time we reached the unmanned checkpoint the sky had changed to purple, dark blue then light blue. Awesome!!
After the unmanned checkpoint I was trying to remember where a section of really tricky rocky path was. Had we already gone past it? Was a remembering the route wrong? I was doubting myself. As soon as we reached the farm at the bottom of the road I remembered where that horrid rocky path was. We were heading straight for it. My feet were really starting to complain now and my legs were getting very tired of the constant motion I was asking of them. I really didn’t like that section to Tilberthwaite but we did it. Ouchy, ouchy OUCH we did it!! We arrived at 06:53 and I knew if I stopped to sit down I really wouldn’t want to get up. I wanted this over with. I knew that next hill would be tough and the downhill afterwards would be terrifying. The finish was a mere 4 miles away! I couldn’t stop. I grabbed a sweet tea, said good luck to Ann and Nicola and headed for the steps of DOOM!!!!! Oh those steps hurt. My feet hurt. My arms hurt. My back hurt. I couldn’t tell what wasn’t hurting so just agreed to let everything hurt as long as I could keep moving. Every few steps I would stop to catch my breath and then push on again. Not long after I started climbing Ann and Nicola caught up with me. I’d gotten them this far and they didn’t want me to face the pain alone. Bless, add heartache to the list of pain I was going through. Those ultra gals were awesome!! Bit by bit we kept moving till we reached the top of Old Man. Now we just needed to get down the craggy steep slope the other side. With tired pain filled legs this took all of my concentration. For every 100 mile competitor that passed us I felt inspired to push myself that little bit more. Some looked fresh as daisies, others looked in so much pain it was painful to look at them but they were moving faster than I was and they had covered far more mileage than I had. If they can do that then I could push myself that little bit more and finish this thing!! It felt like a really long time to get from the steep rocky path to the road but we were there. Sore, painful feet being forced to continue. It wasn’t long before we reached the tarmac road and people from Coniston were cheering us onto the finish line. So close!!!!!
Lesley and Veritie were at the bottom of the hill and they ran/walked with us to the finish line – 09:03.
I cried, smiled and downright enjoyed the cheers as we walked into the school hall. I DID IT!!
Ann and Nicola from Holborough Harriers – THANK YOU SO MUCH. I thoroughly enjoyed your company, you were both amazing.
The checkpoint volunteers were amazing. Thank you so much for looking after us. So much help and food on offer and always with a smile. Totally fabulous.
Will I go back and do it again? My initial answer whilst I was removing my painful feet from my shoes at the school hall was an emphatic NO. I’m not sure what my answer will be when it comes time to enter again. At the moment I’m so pleased I managed to get myself around such a tough event with only swollen feet and one blister to show for it. Time for some rest and relaxation.

Keep on running.
Helen

Written by Dave Douglas - http://www.delamerespartans.org.uk/spartan-blog/dave-douglas

Ok, so I haven’t had a full years training in for my UTLD100 but the mileage and running I've done over the last four months has been pretty good!

Check point 6 at Braithwaite Visitor Centre and I'm feeling a lot better than I've felt since the beginning of the race 10 hours ago. Yes it was hot and sweaty, yes I went out a little hard, yes I felt I had something to prove but perhaps it was that bottle of Lucozade Sport I downed minutes before the off that sent my stomach into a revolving ball of pain? Running with a gut full of un-releasable gas was only going to be temporary, so the plan was to go with it knowing that it would relent sooner rather than later (take it easy, make it up later was the thought process). The only down side to the thought process is that it doesn’t accommodate the fact that I'd been unable to eat anything since starting. At checkpoint 4, Buttermere I'd told myself that I wasn't going to leave until I'd put something solid in me. The soup and bread didn’t appeal but a deal's a deal even if it was with myself! Enter Greybeard and Jim (James, whatever) and I was brought back into the real world. Onto my feet and off again into the darkness with the boys with the hope that the food would do some magic, checkpoint 5 here we come. After half an hour my spirits were up and I needed to break from our small pack to run at my own pace. A couple of guys stuck with me and 20 minutes later Andy caught me up and promptly left me as I stopped for a good guzzle before the final drag over to Braithwaite. Once in Braithwaite I forced myself to eat the pasta and did my usual trick of refilling water bottles downing two cups of coke and a cup of sweet tea. In my books I was drinking a lot more than I usually would but I guess the conditions called for it. Jim arrived, Andy left, Jim left, I left, the next three head torches I caught up weren’t the suspects I was looking for. It wasn’t until I reached the stream under Skiddaw that I caught sight of the boys again. Nose down, sticks out, I caught them 10 minutes later. Just as I had caught them I needed to pee, as I did I had an unusual burning sensation in my pee tube, hmmm, not good I though as I packed away and carried on. Even though I'd finished peeing the burning sensation continued and I felt as if I needed the toilet every 5 minutes. The good news was that my stomach pains had subsided and the daylight was coming!

Dave UTLD100 2014

So, I'm at checkpoint 6 where we started this tale of woe (wee?)- Apart from the burning tube I'm feeling good. Our small pack of three had just taken several scalps on the last section and we were looking forward to taking a few more on the next. Unlike Andy and Jim I had the knowledge and experience of what was to come over the 60 odd miles. The plan at this check point was to enter drink, wee, eat, drink and leave ASAP (don’t loose those well earned scalps!).

I enter, I drink, I go to the toilet to wee and BAM- BIG problem, in the low light of the last passing of water I'd not seen the colour but here in the super bright super clean white toilet all I see is a steady stream of black coffee that may as well as be boiling hot the way it's burning as it comes out of me. Well this is certainly a game changer that I hadn't planned on!

I went back out to the boys and told them to carry on and I'd try and catch them up soon but withheld any further details. It seems to me that I'm majorly de-hydrated despite drinking ample before setting off and continuing to do so, so far. I need to spend a bit more time at the check point, get even more fluids on board, give them time to circulate and carry on, easier said than done when you're itching to get on with the job at hand.

Enter Gareth (Gaz/Gazerith). Hia Dave, What you doing here was his chirpy, sweaty greeting. I can't remember what my reply was but I was suddenly on a downer about my imminent problem. Not wanting to be sociable I grabbed by belonging and headed out saying to Gaz that I'd probably be seeing him later. The sun was just about up and I stopped in the first field and turned my phone on to call Steph it was about 04:30, I knew see wouldn't mind hearing from her wonderful Husband. I explained to her my night and latest problems and I agreed to stick with the plan of meeting her at Dalemain but if anything worsened then I'd call her and withdraw from the race. No sooner had I put my phone away galloping Gaz came down the hill so with out further ado and feeling sorry for myself I decided I try and run with him as physically I felt fine, or as well as could be expected after 10 hours running.

I think I mentioned in the beginning to Gaz about my problem but apart from stopping every half hour to wee it wasn’t really mentioned again. Gaz set a good pace that was achievable and we often switched to pull each other along. I could have pushed it a little bit harder but I was very conscious that even though I wasn't hurting or in pain, something was wrong inside me. We passed several runners then caught Jim up on the Old Coach Road, he was suffering but in good spirits so we all ran into the next checkpoint, Dockray together to find Andy sitting in the shade looking a bit worn around the edges. As I wasn't feeling any worse I restocked and headed back out with all the boys together. It wasn't long before I realised that we'd dropped Andy and Jim without saying anything, I'm sure they understood. Fellside, woods, fields, road then a bit of trail, a few more scalps taken and we arrived in Dalemain to cheers and clappter and most importantly our loved ones.

I dipped in and Steph whisked me off to see the medic. I'm not the best of people when it comes to these things but I knew I had to sit back and let him do what to needed to do (and he did it well). My mind was racing faster than my body and I felt invincible but in reality the medic was saying 'to be on the safe side I should withdraw from the race but only I could make that decision'. I took on board everything that he said as any true man (Neanderthal) would do, I said I'd think about it! As I wasn't in a thinking mood I requested a 10 minute lie down undisturbed to try to piece together my thoughts. 10 minutes later decision made, if my urine had worsened I'd stop and withdraw, no ifs or buts, if my urine was clearer I'd carry on, on the understanding that if it gets worse I'd withdraw, final, end of.

I informed the medic of my decision but I think he already knew what I was going to tellhim. I had to sign a piece of paper that said I chose to ignore his professional advice or something like that.

Game on, I had a full change of clothes ate and drank then I was off, Howtown bound. I pasted a runner before Pooley Bridge then three more on the road up to Askham Fell. I could see a solitary figure in front of me and that was my target before the right turning to the descent for Howtown, checkpoint 9. As I neared this lone person I had a good idea who it was, it was Andy and he had his poles out, that spelt trouble in my books because I hadn't seen him use them yet and this was no big hill we were going up. Andy's usual enthusiasm had somewhat evaporated in the sun and over the past miles. I did my best to enthuse him but I could tell he was in a dark place. I ran off leaving him with words of encouragement but still at a lose as if I'd actually helped him or not. My thoughts turned to Gaz as I did a steady gallop down the hill. This was the first time I'd been running alone for any good distance since Buttermere and I was really enjoying it. No stop, start, stop, start, I could ease off on the slight hills and push it on the downs fully in control of my race.

I entered Howtown as I'd entered the first checkpoint of the race just a bit smellier! I was in a good place and feeling strong. No blisters, no chaffing, no sun stroke, no negativity just Mardale and beyond to look forward to... I dipped my dipper handed my water bottles over to be filled, requested a cup of sweet milky tea then headed to the toilet. With my discomfort of passing urine I'd found it easier to sit down whilst doing so. Surely I've turned a corner and everything's on the mend, how much fluids would it take to get back to normal? I'd had well over an hours rest and recuperation at Dalemain, come on, Jonny be good...

A blood red plentiful liquid now left my body, whilst I breathed a sigh of relief from the urge to urinate a tear filled my eye as I knew my race was done. I sat there for a few minutes looking at the red liquid that had sunk to the bottom of the water in the toilet. I guess I was trying to pick my words.

Excuse me, I need to withdraw from the race, the words came out like I was an embarrassed little boy, the marshal made me repeat it, I did but obviously she needed more detail, she wasn't going to let me go that easy!

Chapter Two

Now just because I got into Howtown all buzzing and raring to go doesn’t necessarily mean I would have completed the full 100 miles, just saying!

Marc Lathwaite (race organiser) did warn us that either the person sat next to you or yourself wouldn't finish! He never mentioned the guy in front though!

Marcs Stark Talk

On Monday morning, first thing, I visited the doctors and within 30 seconds of explaining my symptoms to the doctor he knew exactly what it was- Mechanical hemolytic anemia, basically Wiki says,

Cause- Repetitive impacts to the body may cause mechanical trauma and bursting (hemolysis) of red blood cells. This has been documented to have occurred in the feet during running[4] and hands from Conga or Candombe drumming.[5] Defects in red blood cell membrane proteins have been identified in some of these patients.[6] Free haemoglobin is released from lysed red blood cells and filtered into the urine.

Well I had to weigh this up carefully, was it the Bongo drums or the running that had caused MHA?

I felt a great relief fall off my shoulders, I wanted to hug the doctor, I wanted to jump up and punch the air with joy... I quietly said- 'Oh, thanks, erm, great'.

'Just to be on the safe side we better take some samples and send them off for analysis, if there's anything serious we'll be in touch' said my new friend the doctor.

Let's step back to Saturday afternoon, I arrived back at the campsite in Coniston (thanks Flick) to an eerie silence that hung over field. Children were playing but the buzz of the evening before was now spread out over the fells of the Lake District. The partners of the runners lolled about reading books, sun bathing and generally passed the time anxiously waiting for news of their loved ones. Several wounded runners hobbled about, many with their pride more dinted than their body.

I felt a bit of a fake compared to these guys, my legs were tired, my body was aching but I felt mentally sound, the true ache I had was the need to be suffering more! I should still be out there cursing those hills with sweat stinging my eyes while my body slowly started to protest and fall apart, I wanted to be cursing the small stones that hurt my feet, the steps that loomed large and the trivial things that normally wouldn’t matter.

Instead I felt like I could be doing cartwheels around the campsite whilst singing Hallelujah. This was all at the front of my brain while hidden away in a dark place was the fact that less than three hours earlier I was passing blood in my urine. My mind was desperately trying to forget about this but it weighed heavily on me.

Stephné my wife was not a happy person! She should be bloody happy, her crazy mad husband had just pulled out of the race safely in order not to inflict any more damage on/in his body so he'll live to see his children grow up and spend the rest of our lives together. Where's my thanks? Do I have to curl up in pain, have open flesh wounds or break down crying to get any sympathy?

As a man I have a failing or two, one of these is the inability to talk about my feelings. Many people approached me and asked why I'd returned, what was up, to these people I could openly tell them about my problem and discuss it, every time I opened my mouth a bit more would come out (words not wee!) and this is where Steph gleaned most of her information from, not from me sitting down with her and telling her first hand like I should of done.

Before I'd left Dalemain for Howtown it'd been mentioned that if my symptoms worsened I should not only pull from the race but see a doctor as soon as possible. I kept one half of the agreement, the other I put off till Monday morning, this did not sit well with Steph. I'd made a secret agreement with myself that after I'd pulled from the race if my symptoms deteriorated I'd go to A&E, but they didn't so I didn't go, simple yes but also stupid (in many eyes). Sorry Steph.

So apart from the personal and mental drama, everyone else had their own issues to deal with. Many Spartans were still out there suffering with the long mileage, intense heat, blisters, sores and those damn Midges while I was sitting pretty after my double shower (hot then cold) with food in my hand.

Everybody was worried about everybody, 'he checked in ages ago and should of arrived an hour ago, such and such is lost', the list goes on... A fellow Spartan had had enough at Mardale and had requested evacuation, that was my cue to help. I offered to be navigator to take his wife to the back of beyond and rescue this poor soul. Paul was his name and at 75 mile he gave in the game! It was a fantastic effort though especially as he only travelled 20 miles the year before!

Normally after my race I would have hung around and seen as many Spartans in as possible, after dropping Paul off I felt very deflated with it all and just wanted to hide and sleep, which I did.

The next day was a new day and the buzz had returned to the camp site along with the runners. Whilst a few runners were still out slogging over the final miles most were back brimming with tales of torment and torture. It was great to see the tired but enthusiastic faces brimming with admiration for each other, the love was high. For me it was time to move on and let those heroes celebrate.

Happy Running

Dave Douglas

AKA- Wallman

Written by Richard Lendon - www.richrunnings.blogspot.co.uk 

Not sure where to start with this one.....but wow, what an experience. What an adventure!The bare facts - starting from Edale at 9am on Saturday 14th January, I withdrew with hypothermia just short of Middleton-in-Teesdale, at about 3am on Tuesday 17th. Roughly 136 miles up the Pennine Way in 66 hours, with about 4 hours sleep.Now the detail!

The day before:

Arrived at Lincoln train station having had an entertaining conversation with the taxi-driver on the merits of trying to run up the Pennine Way in winter in 7 days! Got the train from Lincoln to Edale, arriving mid-afternoon in chilly but sunny conditions - a welcome relief from al the grey and windy weather. Checked into the Ramblers Inn. Was already a bag of nerves, and failed to get my planned nap. Wandered down to race HQ, the village hall. Met race director, Scott Gilmour - nice bloke - and some of the other competitors. Compared rucksack weight. Marvelled at Gary Morrison's micro-pack at 6.5 kg. Mine pretty average at 8kg but I still had some food to get in. Lots of us were alternately taking gear out then putting it back in - all in search of a few grammes advantage. I had weighed my titanium spork the night before - it gave me a 2g saving over the plastic version!!

Back to the pub and had tea with Gary - then back to the village hall for the briefing. We had some lectures on hypothermia, hypoglycaemia, navigation , the route etc. By now, I was beside myself and quite frankly not wanting to be there - nervous had become scared as the enormity and potential of the elements became very real.

Checked in drop bags and then we then had to get all our kit out - having meticulously packed mine! - all compulsory kit present, sleeping system and stove checked. Back to the pub for dessert, glass of wine, and a natter. Finally got to sleep at 11.30 but woke at 3ish and then only dozed as my nerves got worse and worse.

Stage 1 - Edale to Hebden Bridge 43 miles, 14+ hours
Beautiful frosty, sunny winter's morning. We all convened at the village hall and then the 16 competitors wandered up to the official start line at the Nags Head.

Absolutely sh*tting myself.

After some obligatory photos we set off just after 9am.

Gentle jog to Upper Booth and along to the bottom of Jacob's Ladder. At the top the field fanned out as we tried to find the best way (not sure there is one!) across the peat bogs which were fortunately nice and frosty. A group of us - myself, Gary Morrison, Steve, Tim, Jon, Andrew Collister and a couple of others - formed a convoy down to Snake Pass. By the top of Bleaklow, Gary, Steve, Andrew and myself seemed to have left the others, with Mark Brooks and Mark Caldwell well ahead.

I was getting well into to the race now - had a cracking peanut butter and jam sandwich going across Torside Reservoir and onto Black Hill. Miles rolling by now -  through Standedge, where, from memory, it was headtorches on. We made our first nav error -  a 5-10 minute "detour" - the first taste of the concentration required when navigating at night. 

Crossing the M62 really summed up to me how far we had already travelled - this leg was essentially the fist 3 days of the Pennine Way walk!

We eventually reached Stoodley Pike, down to Hebden Bridge and then 2-3 miles to the CP1, arriving just after 23:00.

We were met with a warm welcome and encouraging words. Gary, Steve and myself had already decided to fuel up, sort kit out and then sleep for 1-2 hrs, in order to maximise the clear (but cold) conditions and hopefully get to CP2, 63 miles away, sometime the next day. Baked potato, cheese, ham & baked beans, followed by 2 bowls of pasta, some crisps, peanuts, bit of Mars Bar etc etc and I was well fuelled (and stuffed). Left big toe nail a real mess - tried, without success, to release all the fluid under it. Kit prepared for next leg and then it was head down for 90 minutes, getting up at 01:30.

Stage 2 Hebden Bridge to Hawes 63 miles, 27.5 hours
After a quick snack and a topping up on provisions, the 3 of us set off on this monster stage in good spirits at 02:30. We made good time across Heptonstall Moor. The rest of the night passed surprisingly quickly. I remember passing Withins Height, the presumed "Wuthering Heights".

Now light, we had a short stretch along the Leeds & Liverpool Canal. The hours rolled by and we reached Gargrave at about 12:30. We had now been on the move for 10 hours with no more than the briefest of stops so we made a tactical decision to stop at a cafe and re-fuel. The Dalesman cafe was closed, but we found a little gem - the White Cottage Tea Rooms and a quick 30 minute snack stop became an hour+ feeding frenzy! Turkey and stuffing rolls and puddings/cakes - 2 for me!! Delicious hot chocolate, then coffee.

Bellies full, off we went, knowing that all the time the tough part of the day would be the last third.

Now followed a lovely stretch along the River Aire reaching Malham as the light began to fade. Approaching Malham Cove, we were asked several times where we going "at this time of day" - nobody believed us!

Rounding Malham Tarn at 18:00, our plan was still to push all the way through to Hawes. With at least 25 miles to go, our estimated 02:00 finish from the the start of the day was looking way off the mark.

Now followed the long haul to Pen-y-Ghent. I think we were all tiring a bit and it was getting quite cold. I donned my First Ascent down pullover (thanks Jenny!) and very cosy it was too. I slipped over on the ice on the descent to dale head 3 times in 5 minutes, the last time landing in an icy puddle getting both gloves soaked through - leading to an unpleasant hour of very cold hands.

We powered up Pen-y-Ghent - it was getting quite windy now - but we were pushing to get to the pub in Horton-in Ribblesdale for a warm up before pushing on to Hawes. Pen-y-Ghent in the dark felt special. Down into Horton, r eaching the Crown Inn at just after 22:30, the landlord informed us that he had just cleaned the coffee machine and that he couldn't boil a kettle for us. Grumpy git! So it double Coke, peanuts and chocolate all round. Got my gloves dry in front of the fire. Changed socks - feet were getting very sore especially my heels. The mesh on my left shoe had split on day one and was now leaking quite badly.

Landlord assured us it was 13 miles to Hawes, we thought 15. Felt great for the first mile or two, then a dreadful tiredness came over me. I could barely stay awake, I just wanted to sleep. The next few hours were really tough. Don't remember a huge amount about this stretch. The other 2 were fibbing about how far we had covered and how far we had to go which I eventually worked out! Gary threatened to poke me with his sticks if I sat down! The last section into Hawes was tricky navigationally. It was very cold - all insulation layers on.

Eventually we arrived at CP2, clocking in at 05:48. Was very relieved to arrive and be allowed to sit down - relieved and very chuffed!

We were immediately fed and watered - soup and super noodles which were strangely nice! Feet tended to - what felt like blisters on my heels was in fact an early case of trench foot. A few smallish blisters. Then it was finally sleeping bags - found a spot on the floor and fell asleep vey quickly for the agreed 3-4 hrs.

Stage 3 Hawes to Middleton-in-Teesdale 33 miles
I woke at 10:00, had a chat with Mark Brooks (winner of the Challenger Class) and Tim Robinson (who had withdrawn the previous day with pretty serious-sounding hypothermia. Got up and amazingly legs felt not too bad. Tim said I'd looked bad last night when we arrived and had been slurring a bit, but that I now looked "chipper" - looked in the mirror - I looked sh*t!! Relaxing mega-breakfast of one of my porridge bags, toast and whatever was going.

The other 2 rose at 11ish and we set off to Middleton-in -Teesdale at 12:30. This was the shortest leg of the race art 33 miles and we were hoping to be in by 02:00 or earlier if the terrain wasn't too bad.

We made excellent time up Great Shunner Fell in lovely sunny conditions - I was living the dream -  and then down through Thwaite, where the light was beginning to fade.

Then the long stretch up Stonesdale Moor, arriving at our planned stop at Tan Hill Inn at 19:30. I was still feeling strong and positive, knowing we were at least halfway through the leg and making excellent time. It was getting very cold but the thought of warming up in the pub had been encouraging us for a while.

Entering the pub the barmaid sadly looked at us and said, "Sorry, we're closed" - our faces dropped, morale dipped and then we heard the chuckles from round the corner - she had well and truly got us! We then had a truly memorable hour in a great pub - the world's greatest homemade mushroom soup, a great bowl of chips, mug of coffee and some squash. We got chatting with the other customers and the barmaid - there were very interested in the event but unsurprisingly though us completely mad. As we we were also raising money for charity (Help for Heroes) the barmaid only charged us £6 each, then one of the customers said he'd pay for the rest. Someone else gave us a donation. It was sad to leave, but we were warm and fuelled right up and ready to press on. The stop had really confirmed our faith in humanity.

We were feeling really positive and expecting to make good time to Middleton - how quickly thing can change.

Sleightholme Moor had some tricky navigation but we were helped by the dog from the pub who followed us for about 5 miles! We safely made our way past Bowes and under the A66. It was getting really cold now. The next section was really slow. The path was very hard to find, navigation really tricky. I cold feel myself getting colder - despite base layer, shirt, down pullover, windproof insulation layer, 3 hats, 2 pairs of gloves. Started eating as much as possible - including a Soreen loaf in one go!
Knew I was beginning to struggle.

A short hard ascent up to a road head between 2 reservoirs failed to warm me and realistically I knew my race was over - I was freezing cold all over and feeling a little bit scared, and aware that I had been slowing the others down. I told them as much - Gary told to put on as much as possible - I added my waterproof top and bottoms, and we pushed on to the next junction 2km away. Although I wasn't getting colder, I wasn't getting warmer either, and worryingly I could feel myself getting confused and muddled.

I called it a day about 3 miles from CP3 at 03:00. I knew I could probably get to the checkpoint but knew that there was no way I could carry on into the 4th leg, and I knew I had to be sensible and not take unnecessary risks. I owed that to Jenny and all my family who I knew were watching the updates avidly and sending me encouraging texts but were also worrying themselves silly.
So I got picked up by Scott and transported back to the checkpoint. I was sat by the heater, given copious amounts of tea, and gradually got warmer.

Steve and Gary arrived shortly. Ironically the last bit had apparently been the easiest bit of the day! After a lot debriefing aka talking, I found a space and crawled into my sleeping bag.

I was disappointed to not be going on but was very proud of covering 135 miles. Scott had reminded me again that my longest previous ultra was 50 miles and that to get this far was a tremendous effort. I had been on the road for about 66 hours with about 4 hours sleep - far more than I'd ever done before. As my dad said later - a brave decision.

I woke up after 3 hours sleep shivering. I put myself by the heater and was lent a big down jacket. This completely confirmed the sense of my withdrawal and all in all I was still on a bit of a high.

Gary and Steve required some fairly major foot treatment and left on the 42 mile leg to Alston at about 11:00. They were to finish the race together in 152 hours - a truly amazing effort. It was a real pleasure spending some time with them and I learnt a lot from them both. Top blokes and really tough athletes - total respect!

The Aftermath
I'm planning on writing some more on kit and lessons learnt later so just a quick conclusion for now!

It's 4 or 5 days since I got home - yes my brain is also still recovering. From a muscular point of view my legs feel great. No thigh pain, no shin splints. Achilles tendons miraculously seem OK. My feet were hideously swollen initially but have just about settled now. My feet and ankles are really aching and restless. Haven't had a good night's sleep yet - having some massive night sweats and waking up soaked through - wonder if that's something to do with hypothermia - will investigate. Big toenail not very pretty! Still a real sense of fatigue.

The organisation was second to none. Scott was a source of constant encouragement and seemed to have endless energy, The staff were tremendous and at times it felt like you were getting bespoke care. Nothing was too much for any of them. More importantly I always felt the back up was there - I felt safe.

I am so glad I entered. I had no real idea what I was letting myself in for - it just looked like a massive adventure. Physically, I still felt good - but mentally I guess I didn't really know what to expect. I now understand the mental effects of going really long and will be prepared in the future. Need to get the fuelling right too - that let me down.

It was a real pleasure to be involved in the first running of The Spine. It has given me a lot of confidence for the future and I feel like I have taken my ultra running to a whole new level and that the door to a whole load more events has opened.

Thanks to all those who supported me during my adventure and also when I finished. It was lovely to know that at 46 years old I can still make my parents proud. Thanks to Jenny for allowing me to be a nutter!! Sorry for all the worry!

So the big question - would I want to do it again? Well I have a place in the MdS next year which I am very much considering binning, saving a wad of cash, and allowing me the time to primarily be able to do The Spine 2013. Jenny just about made me promise never to do it again when I got home - she had been so worried - but within 24hrs she realised the hype I'd got and that resistance is futile!! I think she'll either be my support team or offer to be part of the event support team.

So yes - with any luck, you'll see me on the start line next year - and I will finish.

Thanks again to Scott and all The Spine team.

Written by Neil Bryant - www.ultrarunninglife.com 

My training up to the GUCR was not what you’d call structured or specific, but I had managed to get a fair bit of mileage in, which included quite a few 45+ milers. I felt strong except for the feet which would still play up if I stayed on them for a long period of time. The feet were my only concern as this was going to take a long time. I knew that I was capable of dropping below 36hrs, but over 145 miles anything can happen. You really did need to get everything right to give yourself a good chance at a quick time. If I could stay on top of my fluid intake then I think I’d be ok.
These were my thoughts in the final week before the long weekend. I really like the fact that I don’t get that nervous before a race now. I thought I might with the GUCR, but no. I was conscious of the pain and effort that lay ahead, and I totally respected it. This was a race that should never be taken lightly!
I know that there is no direct relationship between someones GUCR performance and their Sparta performance but I really wanted to nail this race just for the confidence boost which would hopefully help me lots when I return to Athens later in the year to take on my main goal.
One thing I wasn’t sure about was the fact that I’d be running the race as an unsupported runner again. This meant that the organisers would feed me and move my drop-bag between cp’s, but other than that I’d be left to my own devices. This was no concern to me in that I knew that I should get around, barring injuries, but now that getting a fast time was rising to the top of my priorities I was beginning to wish I’d got together some sort of team. I especially think that having a buddy runner with me from the 65 mile point (not allowed one before here) would have really helped. The positive spin to this though was that in Greece I’d not have any support so this would be a more closer to reality practice run.
I had booked a train to Birmingham at 1700 on the Friday which would get me there for just after 1830. This went fine and gave me plenty of time to walk to the hotel about half a mile down the road. I was booked into the Travelodge in the centre where the race registration was happening till 2100. I took advantage of this so as to have one less thing to clutter up the morning. The hotel was by all accounts a dump in a very noisy area on the main strip with loads of awful chain pubs and nightclubs. I generally don’t like to use earplugs but had bought some anyway! Fortunately I wasn’t expecting to get much sleep due to the excitement of getting going. After finding my room which I was going to share with Stuart Shipley who I’d met before at Sparta and wasn’t due to arrive for another 2 hours, I made my way over to the O’Neill’s over the road to get myself a meal. As I walked in and headed to the bar I scanned around and recognised a fair few faces! It seems that many of the other runners and crews had had the same idea! I spoke to a chap called Dino at the bar who I’d met at a few other races previously. I ordered a massive burger and chips with a pint and sat down with Dino around an already busy table. I met many new people, both runners and their crews.The food turned up and within a few minutes I’d wolfed down the whole lot. Now I was ready to run! I hung around for a while longer chatting before Stu turned up. Twenty minutes later we said our goodbyes and made our way to our room up on the fifth floor where we both proceeded to get all of our kit ready for the morning. The lights went out, the ear plugs went in as it was very noisy out, and we both began our 5 hours of patchy sleep.
The alarm was set for 0430. This would give us plenty of time to wander over to the start in Gas Street which was very close for the hotel at 6. I had my normal massive bowl of muesli, we loaded ourselves up and left the hotel heading for Gas Street. Finally we were there! Just hand my drop bag in and a half hour wait and we’d be off! 
I grabbed a coffee just as we were directed down to the canal for the start. Dick, the organiser gave us a little chat as I rushed down my quickly cooling coffee. Then we were off. All that was left to do now was to run. It was as I chatted to others and overheard other conversations around me that I realised that most people had a plan. I didn’t! Well, unless you call running at my usual ‘ultra’ pace till I couldn’t, a plan. This didn’t concern me at all. In fact, if anything it added a layer of confidence to my race as I am now pretty content that my ‘running by feel’ is getting better and better. I am more often than not pretty happy after a race with my whole race pacing. It’s nice being able to do that without using any gadgets. Though I will wear a heart rate monitor this is more for post race analysis. I feel more in tune with my body than I ever have.
I ended up running with a chap called Phil who I’d ran with for a little while during the Lakeland 100 the previous year. I was feeling fine and was just happy to be running.
The weather was just spot on, being pleasant but not hot. There was some possible showers forecast for the weekend, but not much. As Phil and I passed through cp3 I was still feeling ok. Signs of soreness, but nothing unusual for over 30 miles. Phil stopped for a call of nature, so I carried on. I really wanted to do my pace. Now I was alone to do exactly that. 
I was starting to look at the 70 mile point as my first real milestone. When I last did it I arrived at the cp as it was getting dark. I ate a meal and left in complete darkness. I was on track to go a fair bit faster than this. When I arrived it was totall daylight with perhaps 2-3 hours left before the headtorch would be needed. I sat down and ate some flan, beans and eggs. This went down very well. I downed lots off water also. No issues with food or drink consumption yet! My drop back hadn’t made it to this cp yet, so I borrowed a torch from one of the crew in case I needed it before the next cp. I believe I was in 12 position at this point which was suprising to say the least. Still, I wasn’t even half way yet. The real race began now.
Five miles previously you were allowed to have a buddy runner. I had none, but was starting to see some people having to not worry about pace or carrying a bag.
I was now going to attempt to get to the next cp at 86 miles before needing the torch. I was feeling very sore now, but everything felt in order except for the usual sore feet. No worries, this could all be ran through. As long as the shins don’t go like last time.
I made it! I got to 86 miles before needing a torch. I was now regularly passing other supported runners crews which was turning out to be really great. I knew a few of the guys and everyone was being really generous and kind to me, offering food and drink and checking I was ok. This certainly helped pass the time especially as the night quickly drew in. I wasn’t concerned about the night though. It wasn’t cold if you kept moving and in 14 miles I’d be at the 100 mile point. That would leave a fairly mentally manageable 45 miles remaining. The 100 mile cp was also a hot food stop. I was really looking forward to some hot savoury food to eat as I was at the ‘sick of sweet stuff’ stage already. I was by now barely seeing anyone else. I was also tiring which isn’t too much of an issue except that I find that I really struggle to keep my focus on the pace. I find myself just dawdling along at some ridiculous pace, not due to fatigue, but just because my mind wanders. I find this very irritating, but still, my pace overall is still ok. 
I finally ran into the 100 mile cp. The superb crew there immediately started to cook me a meal. Beans, Eggs, Bacon and meatballs. This went down very quickly. I again topped up my camelbak and drank lots of fluid. Just before I left, Claire Shelley arrived with her buddy runner which just happened to be Rob Treadwell. I said hi and stumbled off into the darkness. I imagine that they would soon catch me up as they were clearly currently going faster than I was. Sure enough, a little while later, they both caught me up at an incredible pace. I ran and chatted with them and quickly learnt the true value of the buddy runner. It was a vast improvement over my own pace. No dawdling going on now! I was very fortunate to tag onto this train for a few hours and be looked after by the support crew also. As we ran out of the darkness and refreshingly into the dawn we stopped at a ‘mini’ cp where Rob left us having finished his duties for the night and the next buddy runner seamlessly joined us. We ran together for a little while before Claire told me to go ahead as I was stronger. I certainly didn’t feel stronger, but felt that seeing as I was officially unsupported it was time to go alone anyway. I soon arrived at the 120 mile cp. I sat down and was offered a bacon sandwich which I really fancied. Again the crew were ace, really helping me in any way. As I sat there enjoying my sandwich, Claire arrived and was dealt with by her crew. Just as I was getting set to run, she left. As I started running and saw them both in the distance I realised that they were going at an incredible pace, one that I wasn’t even going to attempt to follow. It was as though she had just begun! I stuck to my own pace. Only 25 miles left! It was starting to warm up a fair bit now so I kept sipping water. I soon realised that at the last cp when the crew were filling my bladder, I said for them to stop as I didn’t want to be carrying too much weight for the final few hours. Well, I obviously hadn’t checked how much water I had, as I really didn’t have much left! Again this made me realise the importance of a crew! Oh well, I’d just have to ration it as best as I could. It’s sod law that this stretch was the first time that I didn’t see a crew out to scavenge water from, and happened to be the warmest it had been! Never mind, I’d survive. Fortunately, for once, I’d managed to keep on top of staying hydrated, so it would take more than a few hours to put me in any trouble. I was now in 6th place which was way above my expectations and heading somewhere towards 32 hours. It now took every piece of mental energy I had remaining to keep the pressure on my pace. I kept flagging. I had no idea where people were in front or behind so couldn’t afford to slow much more if I could help it.
Finally I approached the final cp which I was very happy to arrive at for the obvious reasons, but also because my throat was pretty sore from lack of water. I downed around a litre and put a couple in my bladder, then I was off to nail this thing!
The last 12 miles were long and painful. My feet were exceptionally sore. With around 3-4 miles left I approached a crew who were waiting for their runner. I stopped and they asked if there was anything I needed. They gave me a gel and as I was squeezing it down my throat, a friend on the bridge shouted down to them that some runners were coming! I quickly thanked them and dashed off. Now I really couldn’t afford to walk. Must keep the pressure on! All I had to do was hold on for a few miles!
I tried to not look around but couldn’t help myself having quick glances. I never spotted anything but nevertheless kept the pace as high as possible till I crossed the line. Within 2 minutes a pair of runners crossed the line! Wow, that was close. How fortunate that the crew inadvertently alerted me to the two pursuants. My finish time was 31hrs 24mins.
I was super happy (and still am!) with my whole performance. It all helps mentally for Spartathlon which is the years true target. My fluid and food management was not perfect, but certainly an improvement over my normal effort. Pacing was pretty good overall. And my recovery was pretty much completely full after around 5 days.
All in all a wicked weekend on the canal. I’m starting to really love the canals of this country.
From the finish, I had to walk to Paddington with my big bag, buy a ticket and sit on a train for 3hrs which was truly awful. I was in and out of sleep all the way and was desperate to stretch out and lay down. Thankfully I managed to be awake when we arrived at Bristol!
I am now 10 days into my planned 19 days of rest, but seeing as I am now fully recovered it makes it so difficult to not run! I just have to keep focused and keep faith in my techniques. The rest really seems to work for me. After this 19 days I plan to run the 104 miles of the Cotswold Way in one as my first run back. Very excited about that.
Anyway, that’s enough from me. This post has been more painful to write than normal for some unknown reason.

Happy running or if you’re like me, happy resting!