Written by Richard Stillion - https://richyla.wordpress.com

I was listening to Radio 4 a while back and, on Women’s Hour, the question arose “How do we get more women into sport?”   Well, it was announced at this race meeting that there were 51% female and 49% male competitors. So, Women’s Hour, there’s your answer – Ultra running! It’s on the rise.

I only saw this event about March last year and I wasn’t in great shape at the time, so I thought I’d do it this year. Then I saw that there was also another company doing the full 102 mile race and I considered that – until I read the review of the people getting lost in thick fog in the middle of the night. So I opted for XNRG, who I ran with before in 2012 and was more than happy with their set-up. I understand that Neil (RD) did the MdS and came home and realised that there weren’t (m)any multi-day races to train for the likes of the MdS, so he set up the Ridgeway Race over three days and took it from there.

I haven’t embarked on the really long ultras yet (although I’m about to), so I can’t compare them with multi-day runs, but what is good about multi-day is that you can have a good chat with like-minded people afterward, you can usually find someone who’s done a race you are interested in that you may want advice on or have a look at someone’s bit of kit (if you pardon the euphemism) that you may be thinking of parting large amounts of money on and you’re not sure. Neil always puts on a guest speaker in the evening as well – we had the delightful and naturally inspirational septuagenarian Kenwynne Barber who seems to have run everywhere in the world. We were well looked after with plenty of cake, tea/coffee, soup and a roll when we’d finished the race and plenty to eat in the evening. Even little touches like ear-plugs being handed out at bed time were greatly appreciated. The only problem with multi-days is that, creaking and aching after day one, you have to get up and do it again the next day!

Anyway – to the run. 27 miles. Conditions, as far as I’m concerned were perfect. Overcast, good breeze and temperatures must have been 13-15c. So, 10am saw us leave Chipping Campden Scout Hut and run along a lane to the official start of the Cotswold Way. Don’t start at the front or go out too quick is my motto. Oh dear, major fail. I had really tight Achilles and right calf and was wondering whether I would even get going, but I felt alright and carried on. It was a four mile climb out of Chipping Campden and the cloud was high so views came pretty quickly and were quite stunning almost straight away. I got to the iconic Broadway Tower feeling good and pell-melled it down-hill. The first day consisted of 5 hills so it meant for an interesting varied topography and some magnificent scenery. Even a steam train went chuffing by – I was running in a jigsaw puzzle scene of idyllic England! Cramps started kicking in on hill three in my calves. The field of runners was quite small and I’d overtaken one person leaving me in 6^th, but I kept getting a glimpse of someone running in bright orange running shoes (Jon), so I was trying to keep ahead of him. At the Check Point on the top of the third hill I mentioned my cramp and I was kindly given an electrolyte tablet, but I didn’t want to hang around because my pursuer was right behind. To add to my calf cramps, I then went over a stile and my hamstring cramped too! From thereon in, I had to negotiate stiles with straight legs, I must have looked pretty stupid, but what can you do? Cramps aside, I was really pleased with how everything went on the first day with great scenery of open panoramas and bits of woodland and then I came across a Long Barrow at Belas Knap. I didn’t have time to explore, but it looked pretty impressive. Jon, of the orange trainers, finally caught up with me about four miles from the finish on Cleeve Common. We negotiated the golf course together and could see Cheltenham sprawled before us with its enormous race course and what looked like the school we needed to head to but we couldn’t work out how to get down from the crags we were on, when we spotted the front runners below us. All became clear and along, around and down we went, Jon leaving me behind, but I was feeling good and that my run had gone well.

After a nice shower and massage I laid my blow up bed in place and relaxed and chatted with people while having a chomp on a bit of cake and few cups of coffee. As I mentioned, there was plenty to eat in the evening with pasta, bolognaise and cheese with a roll and apple pie for pud. We then had the seminar which was really light-hearted and well delivered by Kenwynne – quite an exceptional lady. I think most people, like myself, were pretty wiped out and headed for our sleeping bags.

Lights on at six in the morning, and, thanks to the two massages I ended up having the night before, I didn’t feel too bad. Breakfast and pack-up ready for an 8am start for the 31 miles to Stroud. The forecast had been for heavy rain during the day, but it had come down in the night, so conditions were similar to the day before, but the ground turned out to be a lot more boggy than the day before.

So, back up to the Cotswold Way where we’d come down from the afternoon before. I hadn’t liked the sound of going back up the hill, but it loosened everything up nicely and got the heart going. A group of us set off and before long we’d taken the wrong turn which, thankfully, Jon called out and put us in the right direction. A bit further on, I, using one of my father’s expressions, went for a burton – a stumble – and collected a few bramble thorns in my hand for souvenirs. Jon, just in front, turned to ask if I was okay and promptly took a tumble himself. We then passed the worst part of the Cotswold Way which was a place for motor bikes coupled with a fly-tipping dump with tyres everywhere – bleeuuurgh!

We’d been warned about a couple of places where we might go wrong, one place in particular was near a trig point. I was just behind the lead group at this stage and they were just in sight so I could see where they were going. I occasionally caught them up, but hadn’t intended to try to stay with them. I was also aware that there was someone in a red top (Paolo) a little way behind. I knew I’d finished about 5 minutes in front of him the day before and I decided to attempt to stay in front of him.

I kept within sight of the lead pack up to the second check point whereupon they seemed to disappear. I was now on my own. I was running round the rim of a hill looking down on Cheltenham and then went into a wood. Where had the trail gone? There was a sign which looked like the route was doubling back on itself and I questioned this for a while, but thought, well it must be the right way, which it was, but maybe 30 seconds lost? There was then a lot of woodland running and it was pretty boggy under foot but pleasant going and I did break out into a grin. It reminded me of something I’d read about before “if you start feeling good on an ultra, don’t worry, it’ll pass”! I heard a woodpecker and saw some pretty large snails, which made me wonder if they were the edible kind, possibly the species brought over by the Romans so long ago.

Things started to go a bit awry from here. I got to the golf course above Painswick and took a leap of faith that I was going in the right direction. I found some of the signs on the Cotswold Way a bit hit and miss. Some areas had loads of signs – as if a couple of apprentices had been told to put signs up along the CW, but it was Friday and they wanted to knock-off early so stuck them all in one place – then there were areas that seem devoid of them. The golf course was one. Anyway, by mistake or design, it was the right way. I then entered the village of Painswick. It may have been aesthetically pleasing, but it will hang in my mind as a bit of a nemesis. I don’t know whether it’s historical, but where one could easily enter Painswick, turn right on the main road, then turn right again and, hey presto, you’re out of town again, you are directed, literally, round the houses. I got completely baffled, lost, tried to follow the route card, but had to admit defeat and phoned in for help. Possibly 3-4 minutes lost. I’d also got the aid station placings wrong. I thought the second one was around mile 18, so I thought (as I don’t use any electronic devices) I was further on than I actually was. The dawning that I wasn’t and that I’d got lost was beginning to play a little psychological game in my head as I knew Paolo couldn’t have been that far behind, and if he didn’t get lost, he would now be gaining on me. On leaving the village, I even got lost by the rugby field due to the arrow on the CW marker. Common sense prevailed and I saw where the grass in the field was tamped down, so after going to the wrong end of the field, I was back on track, although another 30 seconds lost? I picked up my pace again in another wood and felt pretty good, despite some very short but very steep climbs. It was coming out of Cliff Wood at about 26/7 miles that Paolo caught up with me. He clearly knew the way as I was looking flummoxed at yet another ambiguous CW sign and he pointed the way – the CW, I was learning has a habit of taking sharp turns! We got to the final Check Point with Paolo just in front and me feeling pretty demoralised. Before my eyes Paolo hit the afterburners – he was off. He’d timed his run and paced himself really well. It should have been nothing, but I’d made it a challenge of a race in my head and I just felt utterly shot and as much as I could run (slowly), there was no way I was going to pick that pace up!   I apologise now for my sulkiness to the guys at the Check Point at Standish, the teddies, soon to be thrown, were in my hand. I plodded off through a pleasant part of the Cotswolds telling myself to enjoy it as I knew the end was nigh. The course left the Cotswold Way just after Randwick Wood with a pretty steep bit of road which met with an ow ow ow ow ow as my legs clumped down.

Into the outskirts of Stroud and I’ve no idea how I managed it, there were signs and I had a route card, but I took the wrong turning by the nunnery, ran down an alley and across a football field with a school on my right. Looking at my route card, I should have been turning left towards a school. This can’t have been right. Thankfully a very helpful youth asked if I was looking for anywhere in particular, I told him and he gave me directions. In my fuddled state I heard “Go through that alleyway there blahblahblahblahblah”. I thanked him profusely, went through the alleyway and wondered where I should go next. Ah, an elderly lady – she didn’t know. Another alleyway and a dogwalker – yep, straight down there and keep going. Brilliant.

Well, just before the helpful youth gave me directions, I was just about to phone, again, for directions. Not wanting to lose any more time I hadn’t put the phone away and had it in my hand. I don’t know what happened, but frustration at getting lost on the route, lostt at the end and a feeling I’d been pipped at the post just brought a red mist down on me. I crossed the finish line to applause but, (and I cringe as I write this) I threw my phone down in anger/frustration/petulance/call it what you will. There followed a bit of stunned silence, in which I muttered an apology, picked my phone up, asked “for a minute” and went for a sulk behind the bike sheds. God, it was embarrassing and it doesn’t get any better when I write about it. But that’s what happened. I picked my dummy up, wiped off the dirt and went back muttering apologies. Everyone seemed pretty fine about it and I’m grateful to them. I’m also happy my phone didn’t hit anyone either. It turned out that quite a few people got lost, so I didn’t feel so bad, but everyone didn’t throw their teddies out of the cot when they finished like me. It was interesting to hear some responses of when the runners had asked for directions on the Cotswold Way – “Cotswold?? Way??” and “Hang on I’ll ask my mum – person goes inside, then comes outside – you’ll have to wait a minute, she’s on the toilet!”.

So, a somewhat sheepish finish to a beautiful race. Once again, there was soup/rolls, tea/coffee and cake and I took another massage. Showers were good and hot too. The numbers for this race were, I think, 43 last year, and I think there were 49 entrants this year although not all started. I’d like to see this race grow as it’s a beautifully challenging race, undulating, panoramic in some parts and gorgeous woodland in others.

In hindsight, a visit to Mr/Mrs Harvey for a route map wouldn’t have been amiss. For the guys who got lost in the dark and thick fog last September on the 102 miler – you have my sympathy! And for the record, over 57 miles, Paolo beat me by 20 seconds – a well-paced run and congratulations to him!

I’d certainly recommend this race as Neil and XNRG certainly look after you. There aren’t any cut offs that I know of, walkers and runners all take part, so it’s as hard as you want to make it. A big thank you to everyone who organised the event and to everyone I spoke to over the two days you all helped make this another memorable weekend.