Written by Robert Jones - http://ultrarunningphoenix.blogspot.fr

Just 3 months after finishing the 28th Marathon Des Sables I found myself toeing the line of the inaugural Race to the Stones at 8am on Saturday 13th July – a 100km race along the Ridgeway through the beautiful English countryside of Oxfordshire, Berkshire and Wiltshire from Chinnor to Avebury Stones.

A combination of downtime after the MdS, long days at work and a succession of family parties, birthdays and weddings meant that my training had not been ideal. I had managed to keep up 40-50 miles a week with some painful hill and interval sessions, and my usual weekly long run on a Sunday morning – however it was with a sense of unease that I watched the forecast temperatures for race day creep up to over 30 degrees – the hottest day in the UK for 7 years!!! Not ideal preparation or conditions to tackle my longest ever run!

Having travelled up to Oxford to stay with friends (and fellow MdS finisher Simon Triscott) the night before – I was able to avoid the usual early rise to get to the start line (ensuring a good night’s sleep) and was thus was able to rock up to the start feeling reasonably refreshed for once! Arriving at 7:15am at a field in Chinnor (to the sound of music blaring out that bought back memories of the start line in the Mds), I felt relaxed and ease – apart from a minor stomach issue which I was doing my best to ignore (and I won’t plague you with the details of here)... this “issue” was going to play havoc with my system for the rest of a very long hot (and dehydrating) day...

After receiving the usual pre-race instructions (including being assured that the course was well marked and we would be idiots if we got lost), we crossed the start line at 8.10am. During the week running up to the race, I had decided that I was just going to run at my own pace – however ideally due to the timing of the shuttle buses at the end I needed to try and finish in under 13 hours to ensure I made it back to London! A nice target to have! Having said that – I started the race with fellow MdS competitor Colin Brett. Due to our vastly different paces and targets we separated after the first few hundred metres when he left me for dust – but it was nice to catch up with him (albeit briefly).

My target for the first half of the race was to run as much as possible whilst keeping my heart rate under 150bpm. I knew from training that if I could hit this target then I would be able to keep running for a while...

I went through the first 10km in just under an hour – feeling good... albeit not perfect – my stomach was still not right and was making drinking more difficult than I wanted it to be – I had only drunk 250ml and was feeling bloated! I should add that the scenery at the start was wonderful – some gentle rolling hills and nice tree lined trails - a nice way to start a Saturday morning. My average heart rate was sitting higher than I wanted but I was putting this down to the heat! I didn’t stop at the first checkpoint – mainly because I didn’t need the additional water and for some odd reason the aid station was 400 yards down the road off the course – I thus decided to plough on.

I slowed my pace slightly between checkpoints one and two in an effort to keep my heart rate low – it was going to be a very long day after all. I came into checkpoint two in just over 2 hours – feeling ok if worryingly a little thirsty! I therefore decided to top up my water and chuck in some Nuun tablets (I had 12 with me for the day). Somehow during the course of messing around at the checkpoint I managed to throw all of my Nuun tablets onto the floor – thus ensued 5-10 mins of picking them up and drying them off so they didn’t all dissolve (which they partially did anyway). This was nearly an early disaster, which would have left me with no electrolyte for the day!

After that slight delay I was back on course – but conscious that I had lost time and was slightly behind schedule. Thus I upped my pace a little – including running a few steep hills (which wasn’t in the plan)... my heart rate crept up but my legs felt good and strong so I stuck with it...

At about 25km I was feeling great and doing my impression of a mountain goat bouncing down one of the many steep hills, when I decided that a quicker descent to the bottom could be found if I decided to trip over a tree root and throw myself headfirst to the bottom! Having pulled myself out of a bush, pulled twigs from my hair and shoes and established that nothing was broken I decided to plough on – with a sore toe, knee, elbow and shoulder and a slightly more wary eye cast at the floor in front of me!

Thus I strolled into checkpoint 3 (30kms) in about 3 hours 15 mins feeling hot and sore... Luckily the aid station was indoors in some sort of village hall / scout hut (from memory) and I have never been happier to get out of the sun and drink some orange squash...

After a 10 min break spent dousing myself with water in the toilets to cool down and refilling my bladder and bottles I was back out into the heat! Head down I ploughed on to checkpoint 4 watching my heart rate rising to the late 150’s and my pace drop. We passed through a village with a pub and cafe and I was sorely tempted to nip in for an ice cream or a glass of ice cold coca-cola – I didn’t and was left to dream of these things for the rest of the day (and night)!

Coming into checkpoint 4 (40kms) in about 4 hours 50 mins I decided that the proverbial wheels were beginning to come off the wagon! A combination of my stomach issues at the start and the heat were teaming up to ensure that I wasn’t drinking or eating enough... for anyone that has a run an ultra marathon before you will know that this is a bad combo! After a 10 min rest break in the shade at checkpoint 4 I set off with a warning from the marshal to be careful as there was a slight uphill section ahead (note: this slight uphill was effectively to last for 15 kms)!

Given the warning I decided to listen to my body and walk properly for the first time in the race and try and get some fluid and food on board. I thus cracked open my Peronin, threw in some water and prayed that it would stay down! From experience I know that whilst it is designed to be consumed when running, Peronin does not sit well in my stomach if I run at the same time. Thus after 30 mins of walking I decided to start running again – this time with the aim of running the flats and downhills and walking the ups! The Peronin stayed down but it turned out nearly all of the 10km from checkpoint 4 to checkpoint 5 was uphill and I therefore “flew” into checkpoint 5 in just over 6 hours and 15 mins – someway off the pace that I had set myself at the start and still feeling hot and sore...

After an extended 15 min break refilling water and eating some flap jacks laid on by the race organisers I set off once again. The section from checkpoint 5 to 6 was to prove my worst section of the race. It was hot – very humid – there was no wind – I was seriously dehydrated and could not keep down gels / shot bloks and had grown to dislike the taste of water (and Nuun)! I wanted coca-cola and ice cream, my legs were shot to pieces and my heart rate was high (even from walking)... I was down and if anyone had been near me at that point and given me the option I would have pulled out of the race! I was sorely tempted to lie down in a muddy puddle of water to cool down.

Having been on my own for most of the race I decided that I needed to hear a friendly voice to keep me going to checkpoint 6 – where I could rest and re-evaluate what I wanted to do with the rest of my Saturday afternoon! Finding a pub that served beer was beginning to look a much better option – especially considering that I was now on course to miss my shuttle! Caoimhe (my fiancée) was at my sisters hen do for the afternoon – naturally therefore she was the appropriate person to call! Note to other runners out there – it is not a good idea to call your wife, fiancée, spouse or partner when you are running an ultra-marathon on the hottest day of the year, are chronically dehydrated and babbling like a mad-man! After worrying her with my call (but being reassured by the fact that someone else knew where I was and that I was not in a good state) – I decided to plough on to checkpoint 6 which in theory was only 2 kms away... 5 kms later and with a very angry Rob it came into view... Just under 8 hours gone in total – where had all the time gone!

Stumbling, retching and with one of the medics supporting me into a chair whilst telling me that I looked worryingly white I collapsed into a nice soft deck chair in the shade and shoved a wet sponge on top of my head! It felt like heaven! Having been focussed on getting to the checkpoint (and then to the heavenly chair) – I had been oblivious to my surroundings. I looked up to a sea of devastation at the aid station! All around me “runners” were pouring water over themselves to cool down, emptying the contents of their stomachs and lying in the shade... Whilst I do not like to see other people suffering (that much) – it was reassuring to see that I was not the only person struggling in the heat! It was at checkpoint 6 that I met John – a fellow competitor (and ironman) who was undertaking his first ultra-marathon! It was on his recommendation that I ate a banana and took some dioralyte – it was like magic – I was reborn! After 30 mins of enforced medical rest (and looking slightly less white than I did)... I bounced out of checkpoint 6 and was running again (albeit downhill).

My renewed vigour lasted for 30 mins – then the wheels came off again! A familiar pattern was now to be ensue for every section to the end of the race...

(a) Rest at aid station for 10 mins to cool down and not feel sick whilst Medics commented on how white I looked...

(b) Consume banana / crunchie and dioralyte (and a warm pepsi donated by the family of another competitor at one aid station)...

(c) Leave aid station feeling strong and run for 30 mins (albeit very slowly)...

(d) Feel sick again and stumble the rest of the way to next aid station...

(e) And so on...

With the benefit of hindsight this was not the best tactic – but I wanted to run rather than walk to the end and I was determined to push myself as hard as possible!

Somewhere between checkpoint 7 and 9 I teamed up with John again and we decided to finish the race together and run as much as possible (not very much)... For the avoidance of doubt I think this had very little to do with me being pleasant company (which I was not) and more to do with me having a head torch (which John did not)... either way it was good to have some company for the final stage as the sun set and it got dark!

As we approached checkpoint 9 (in just over 14 hours) and the final leg of the race we also teamed up with another competitor Mark. It was at this point that things went badly wrong! As we discussed whether we could run the last 10kms home to make it to the pub in time for last orders (I was in favour) – we were so busy talking that we missed the turn for the checkpoint and instead continued down what looked like the Ridgeway! After consulting google maps, the route map and speaking to the organisers we established we had gone the wrong way! With tempers fraying and morale at an all time low – luckily rather than making us walk / run the 45 mins back to the turn (as I probably would have done for being so stupid) – one of the marshals at checkpoint nine kindly came and drove us back to the checkpoint!

Having lost over 1.5 hours in getting lost and firmly having missed not only the shuttle, last orders and the last train back to London we got ourselves back en route, refuelled at checkpoint 9 and set off...

My legs felt fine and I was keen to run... however even with a head torch it was very dark and the terrain was not kind on the feet! Having kicked a large number of rocks in the first few hundred metres (and with some of us suffering from serious cramp) we decided to ease off until the terrain got flatter – it didn’t! Therefore just after 1pm in the morning and 17 hours later we crossed the finish line of the inaugural Race to the Stones!

I was met at the finish line by the welcome sight of Simon Triscott who had finished work at midnight and driven 30 miles in the wrong direction to come and pick me up – above and beyond the call of duty! I was thus saved a night sleeping on a barn floor and instead was treated to the delights of Oxford city centre and a KFC at 3am in the morning!

If you had asked me at the finish line if I would do this race again – I would have said firmly no! Even though the race was very well organised and the marshals and medics at the aid stations were excellent – it was just entirely unpleasant from 40km onwards... However now that I know the route (and therefore shouldn’t get lost again) and having learnt some more important lessons (some of which I had just forgotten) – I probably would consider it...

Big thanks to my fiancée (Caoimhe) for helping me through my particularly bad phase (and generally being supportive of my stupid runs); thanks also to the Triscotts for housing and feeding me at the weekend and acting as my impromptu support crew (that was not my intention); final thanks to the race organisers for a good day out!

Now time for a few days off to let the legs recover...

Main kit for the run included:

1. Salomon S-Lab 5L bag – this is what I usually wear for my long runs and it worked really well on the day.

2. Asics Gel Fuji Racer shoes – these were well worn in and I wanted something with more protection than my Inov-8 roclite 243’s for the race. However my feet took a pounding on the day – may need to invest in a more sensible pair of shoes for longer runs.

3. Food – mainly Clif gels and shot bloks in my bag and then reliant on the aid stations for everything else. Also took Peronin which always seems to work for me. Some Biltong would have been great but I didn't have time to pick this up before the race.

4. Other equipment – Petzl headtorch (great) and Salomon S-Lab shorts and top (no complaints on either). Garmin Fenix – worked brilliantly again on the day and lasted all 17 hours on continuous monitoring.