Written by Georgina Harrison - https://theskyisnotmylimitblog.wordpress.com

This year saw the twenty – second running of the Grand Union Canal Race; an iconic race in the British ultra running calendar which sees participants starting from Gas Street Basin in Birmingham and running along the Grand Union Canal towpath to Little Venice in London. Entry to the race is by ballot and I was fortunate enough to get in first time.

I arrived in Birmingham the day before the race – attended registration (where we picked up our race sweatshirt and T – shirt; this meant that I HAD to finish or I wouldn’t be able to wear them of course!!), grabbed something healthy to eat and chilled out in my room.

On the morning of the race I got up at 0400, having barely slept at all, feeling great. Ate my usual pre race rice pudding, had a nice brew and made my way to race start in the drizzle where I stood around talking to various people and generally psyching myself out as I always do – everyone looked faster, fitter, stronger etc than me. You name it and they were better!! It is something that I really must work on.

After a quick word from outgoing race director Dick Kearn (by all accounts a legend in running circles) who named and shamed the author of the “most stupid question” on the Facebook Page, new director Keith Godden took over and we were off.

I had spent much of the week before the race calculating paces and times and had come upon targets for myself of:

1. Finishing in 34 hours or less – which I didn’t think very realistic
2. Finishing in 38 – 40 hours – which I thought most probable
3. Finishing within the 45 hour cut off – which I of course desperately wanted to do

Having not run a race of this length before my calculations were stabs in the dark somewhat, based upon how my training had been going and on previous races.

Anyway….off we went along the canal. I started cautiously as I had said that I would, although found myself running a touch faster than my fastest planned pace as my legs felt great, head felt great and I often run by feel. I ran all the way to CP1 as part of a small bunch of runners chatting and absorbing the atmosphere. The drizzle had stopped, sun was coming out and it was shaping up to be a beautifully hot day.

The whole of the first day was a wonderful experience – the race very much spread out after CP2 especially and I spent my time absorbing wonderful scenery, enjoying the beautiful weather, having lovely chats with various fellow participants – a few of whom I was involved in a game of leapfrog with!! – and folk on their barges and just generally having a grand day out. I was still running at above my fastest planned pace but was sticking to a 25 run / 5 minute walk strategy as I had done on many long training runs in order to save my legs. I never once had to worry about cut offs and was just absorbed in the whole experience.

As night fell I swapped my sunglasses for head torch and simply kept on running – it wasn’t cold enough to need a change to warmer clothes, although checkpoint volunteers kept asking whether I was warm enough and whether I thought I should put extra layers on which goes to show how much they were interested in runner welfare. I have run through the night both in events and plenty in training so was confident in running by the light of my head torch however had heard dark tales of hallucinations, falling asleep standing up and swerving into the canal when it came to GUCR and I was acutely aware that I did not have a buddy runner as so many others did. Still nothing ventured, nothing gained and so I banished all bad thoughts and ploughed on.

The night was a great experience, just as the day had been, although a little more eventful in places:

• Runners asleep for a few minutes on benches as I passed still saying “good running that person”
• Runners asleep in chairs at checkpoints
• Witnessing some race retirements
• A VERY unfriendly dog who was eventually retrieved by it’s owner who was at a party on a psychedelically – decorated barge moored alone in the middle of nowhere (the music from which I had been listening to for quite some time as I approached). There were fire sticks, suspicious – smelling cigarettes, lights a plenty and a man dressed as the Mad Hatter. Really.
• Being yelled at by some drunk and belligerent fishermen. Being yelled at by some drunk and friendly fishermen. There were a lot of fishermen!!
• Bridges without numbers between CP6 and CP7 causing a bit of a headache as I cast around in the dark trying to determine whether or not to cross. I did on each occasion. Luckily it turned out to be the correct decision each time too.

There was a lot of atmospheric and thick fog swirling up from the canal as I passed through some (I am certain) stunning countryside and still I was running on, feeling great in mind and in body. I didn’t see another runner for hours at points and the feeling of perfect solitude was immense, although I did have periods of doubting my navigation because of this and coming upon the next checkpoint or glaringly obvious point on the map brought relief every time.

Dawn broke and Sunday emerged from the gloom overcast and cool – perfect running weather. I decided to celebrate by taking a fall just before Springwell Locks (CP8) and cutting my knee. No harm done. One of those falls that is so rapid that you don’t even have time to get your hands down – a full forward roll – and you are on your back looking up at the sky before you even know what is happening. Anyway as I came into Springwell Locks I could see a few runners just leaving and another runner came in just a minute behind me too. I was told at this point that I was 13th overall which blew me away – I had no idea that I was doing as well as this. Unfortunately I was also (quite rightly) made to sit down – I had not so far sat down at all at a checkpoint – and I had my knee cleaned up and the worst of the mud and grit removed. I also took the opportunity to change from the trail shoes that I had worn all race to a pair of road shoes as the towpath was changing in character to large stones and tarmac as we entered a more urban landscape which was starting to batter my feet.

Still I was off and going soon after and still feeling pretty great – so I decided to abandon my run / walk seeing as I was almost there and ran straight through to CP9 with just a three minute walk break at some point for some water. I remember it was three minutes….but not exactly where I took it! And then….CP9 was in view – a quick drink, a quick chat to the volunteers, some cookies and off and running again. Starting what I had been warned by many would be the longest 12 miles of my life…..and they were not wrong!! The first 4 miles of it passed pretty quickly and then for the first time my legs felt sore and heavy and the staggers that I always get became more pronounced; my mind was playing tricks. Just as I was struggling not to enter a plod / shuffle I heard my name called by two men on the other side of the canal, telling me that Ginte and Clare (ladies who I had not, at that point, met!) from a forum I am on called Running The Distance were chasing me!

Shortly after I heard giggling and turned around to see them just behind me, beaming and cheerful and my morale went through the roof! For the last 10km Ginte and Clare took turns in running with me as my buddy runner and listening to me telling them about how long this last bit seemed to be….poor Clare got the final 5km where I suspect I might have broken the World Record for the number of times “just WHERE is Little Venice?” could be uttered in one day. And then…there it was….Little Venice and the finish line banner!!! A final run in and I was having the heaviest medal I have seen in my life hung around my neck and shaking Keith’s hand.

And, just like that, one of the most amazing experiences of my life was over. I finished in 32:05 and in 11th place overall, 3rd lady, which I am over the moon with.

 

I have been left absolutely with the GUCR under my skin – I will put my name into the hat for next year’s race and know that I will be disappointed if I do not succeed in getting a place already. The low – key and friendly nature of the event, coupled with the huge challenge are right up my street and I have come away feeling quietly accomplished and with new friends too.

Finally out of the 98 starters, 52 finished and I am sorry that for 46 people it was not to be their day. It goes to show that, over this distance, all sorts can go wrong for even the very best of runners and I have the greatest respect for them all.

THANKS: I cannot thank and praise enough Keith and his amazing army of volunteers – the organisation was slick, competent and above all friendly. Nothing was too much trouble for folk at the checkpoints even though they must have been beyond tired themselves and drop bags were moved seamlessly between CPs and fetched as soon as an unsupported runner ran in. The delicious home baked goodies also deserve a special mention – the dark chocolate and coffee cookie I had at one of the earliest checkpoints will always hold a special place in my heart!!!

I must also thank the members of the FB group Running The Distance – not only did they provide an unending source of support whilst I was training, but they tracked me during the race and truly cared about how I was faring – I couldn’t believe when I logged back onto social media on BH Monday what had been happening and quite how many people congratulated me too!!!. Unbelievably I also had a visit at a CP from a member, a sign and a cheerful wave and smile on a bridge and my companions for my final miles were members who had never met me either. I felt honoured and quite frankly overwhelmed – in a good way.

I also had a finish line visit from another friend of mine who had made her way across London to see me (visiting for her own successful London 10 000 the day after) and who had also been there when I passed the 100 mile mark for the first time in a race last year – which again meant the world. 

And finally, thank you to my ever – tolerant and supportive husband who was at home tracking me and looking after my training buddies (the dogs!) to enable me to race.