Race Day 9 - Littledown Marathon (Bournemouth)

Over the last eight weeks there have been a lot of different marathons! There have been flat marathons, undulating marathons, hilly marathons, hot marathons, cold marathons, wet marathons, marathons in the countryside, marathons in the mountains and marathons in cities. What's missing from this list I hear you ask? Well, what about 26.2 one mile laps around a leisure centre in Bournemouth? Well it aint missing any more!

With this bad boy weather system resembling a hurricane and poised off the South coast of England heading into the weekend and the forecast for gale force winds and three months worth of rain I decided to tell people that it probably wasn't worth coming to support as sitting in a field in those conditions is probably even more miserable than running in them! However, Euan and Annie courageously decided to brave the early rise and terrible weather to accompany me for the day. Thankfully they were rewarded with yet another failure by the Met Office and a beautiful day of sunshine that has left them both with something approaching third degree burns! Euan was looking so red last night that I genuinely think that he could be challenging the time he got drunk and lent on the counter of the chippy at Uni. Ouch!

No wonder the Met Office can't get the forecast right!

After a tour of Bournemouth and the surrounding area directed by the Audi's sat nav we arrived just in time to register and get everything prepared for the start of the race.

Mobility scooter fitted with the same sat nav as the A5

With only 42 competitors signed-up this would be by far the smallest marathon that I've ever taken part in. Organized by Barry Light who is attempting to run 60 marathons in 60 weeks at the age of 60 (stop showing off Barry, you're making me look bad!), a large proportion of the field (myself most definitely excluded) were serious marathon runners, totalling 1,500 marathons between them. Some of the most impressive included:
- Taviss Willcox who holds six world record, including the most marathons run in one year (a staggering 114!)
- Steve Edwards who also holds several world records and has averaged one official marathon every 16 days for the last 24 years!
- Adam Holland who holds the world record for the youngest person to complete 100 marathons (aged just 22)
- Michael Smith who has run more than 100 marathon in him Matthew Le Tissier Southampton #7 shirt (didn't stop him getting some serious nipple chaffage on the day!)
- Sandra Bowers who has twice been the Scottish 100k (and I'm pleased to report was only able to lap me once during the course of the race)

Barry Light during the Litteldown marathon, on his way to complete marathon 26 of 60! Truly amazing!

With such an elite field I was keen to make a good impression, and up until the end of the first lap I think I managed to do just that! My pace quickly dropped below the target 8 minute mile and realizing that by marathon nine there's not much left in the tank, tactics were quickly adjusted to damage limitation, making sure that the pace was dropping slowly enough to get me round in under the magic four hour mark.

Euan and Annie tried everything possible to keep me going. Their support was amazing and after a few laps with some failed jelly baby handovers the refuelling technique was working like a well oiled machine. Around the half way mark my bad ankle started to play up and within a quarter of a mile Euan was there with painkillers and a drink to sort me out. I don't think a marathon runner has ever been better looked after during the race! Euan was even able to complete three or four of the laps with me to try and help take my mind off the pain. With their help I managed to finish in around 3 hours and 56 minutes, good enough for a 15th place finish.

One of the main difficulties when running a marathon is managing the mental aspect, striking the right balance between paying enough attention to how you're doing against your race plan without focusing on the distance remaining. No matter how many times you run a marathon, 26 miles is still a long way and as soon as you start to focus on the distance you're in trouble! Running a one mile loop with each quarter mile marked out on the ground made it  pretty much impossible to ignore and the battle quickly became as much mental as physical. In addition, being lapped seven times by the eventual race winner really does make you focus on your mediocrity! Always quite good but never quite good enough it would seem.

0.2 miles and lost already. Just follow the runner in front!

6 miles

13 miles, or was it 14, or maybe 15. They all look the same ;-)

20 miles and all tuckered out!

While getting showered and changed in the leisure centre Euan was even able to acquire a makeshift marathon medal in the form of a Littledown centre key ring which wrapped in typical man fashion by depositing at the bottom of the pint which was waiting for me on my return. I think that gifts at the bottom of your pint might actually be a business idea worth considering. It's just like a Kinder egg for adults!

One Littledown centre keyring aka medal successfully retrieved from the bottom of my pint glass. Also, my personal water sponge for the day which is currently unwashed and available on eBay to the highest bidder!

The day was finished off with a trip to Christchurch for some rather tasty grub, a few lager shandy's to refill the tank and a slow crawl back through the usual Sunday jams on the London approach. Thank you so much Euan and Annie, not sure what I would have done without your support on this one! I hope you like your thank you presents :-) Thankfully that's nine down and only one to go. Two days and counting until the South African adventure begins :-D

Race Day 8 - South Downs Marathon

Apres sept semaines consecutives de marathon en cours d'execution....hang on a minute...that was last week. Let's start again...


After seven consecutive weeks of marathon running it would appear that I've started getting just a little bit complacent in my preparations. If it wasn't for Aisha and her fantastic organizational skills (no wonder she's been appointed to the dizzying heights of being my social secretary) I would currently be wandering around the South Downs trying to work out where all the runners have gone!


What better way to celebrate last weeks 45km and 9,000ft of running, climbing and generally getting wet than another 26.2 miles and 5,728ft of running, climbing and, knowing the British weather, you would assume, getting wet. With only six days between the races, a couple of boozy nights in between and about 24 hours notice that the race was, in fact, on the Saturday instead of the Sunday my pre-race preparations weren't quite up to their usual "high" standards. Thankfully there was enough time to cancel Friday nights drinking sesh and do a bit of post-work carb loading before a 5am rise in order to get down to the South Downs in time.


With Aisha acting as marathon groupie for the day we arrived at the start line with plenty of time to prepare, a luxury that I am not used to when left to my own devices, there was even enough time for some pre-race stretching (although none of this ridiculous pre-race running, come on people, isn't 26.2 miles enough for you!). Unfortunately it quickly became apparent that when registering for the marathon (a couple of months ago prior to my first experience of trail running) I had been just a tad ambitious with my finish time. The race start had been staggered into three phases based upon predicted end time. My ambitious target had me starting in the "elite" field, a full 40 minutes behind the first wave of runners. With the first two waves gone the remaining competitors all looked like seasoned trail runners, well, with one exception! I hadn't even managed to get my running shorts on the right way round!


I was genuinely getting concerned that with the staggered start I was going to be the last competitor to cross the finish line. This wasn't helped by the first five miles of running where I just couldn't get my breath and was quickly dropping back the field. Thankfully, my concerns only lasted until the first water station at around 5.5 miles where there were already a couple of runners from the previous wave littering the side of the road, already suffering from cramp and the long climb up into the South Downs. So, the worries about finishing last were gone but now I was starting to get more and more concerned about the difficulty of the race!


As a true Northerner I have absolutely no concept of Southern geography. I'm still not really sure where the South Downs are or where the race started and finished. With limited time to prepare for the race hadn't had an opportunity to read up about the route. So, I decided to have a quick chat with a few of the other competitors to try and establish what exactly was in store. The results were not good! The responses varied quite sigificantly, with my favourite being "don't worry, this is the hardest bit, it get's easier after this........in about 15 miles". Thanks fella, great motivational speech! The general consensus seemed to be that the course was undulating throughout with four massive hills to conquer along the way. The first of these turned up around seven miles in. Thankfully it coincided with the first water stop with a car park for spectators and Aisha's top notch whooping was enough to spur me on and up the hill. With a 30mph headwind to contend with there was little respite at the top of each climb on the exposes hill top. As I'm sure you are all aware a 30mph headwind would require me to run at approximately 37mph in order to finish the 26.2 miles in 4 hours. Come on people, it's basic Maths, keep up!

...carry the one, divide by the square root of the hypotenuse, multiply by pie r squared...yep 37mph! FACT!

As the race went on the hills were starting to take their toll with each one feeling higher and steeper than the one before.

Hill #1

 Hill #2

 Hill #3 (who'd have thought there were Giraffes in the South Downs!)

 Hill #4

Although the lack of mud was welcome as the race went on the running surface really started to cause problems. The chalk paths in particular were proving difficult with the impact playing havoc with my bad ankle and knees.

Thankfully this issue was solved after the first couple of hills where I became too tired to lift my feet and started dragging them in a very zombiesque fashion. Unfortunately this posed it's own issues as the paths were littered with small rocks. Nothing like the large boulders in France last week, just some good old fashioned, understated British rocks. The kind of rocks that don't look like they're going to be a problem and then before you know it you're stumbling head first towards the backside of the girl in front (thankfully I managed to regain my footing as I'm not sure nutting some poor girl in the rear end would have been particularly helpful for her run!).


As usual with a little more of my own company than is healthy I started to think about the differences between the French and British rocks and how it was representative of the good old national stereotypes. After some Grade A thinking time it became apparent that the French rocks were, of course, much ruder than their British counterparts, refusing to get out of your way in a typically French shruggy shoulder kind of a way. The British rocks on the other hand seemed to do everything possible to get out of your way when kicked and did roll in a very apologetic manner. If they could talk I'm sure there would have been a plenty of "terribly sorry old chap", "jolly hockey sticks" and "frightfully sorry old bean".


With Aisha playing Challenge Anneka (minus the trendy 1980s jump suit and hard hat) and managing to make it to each of the checkpoints in time there was enough encouragement at each water station to keep me going. Unfortunately after the last water station around the 20 mile mark my legs were done, the hills, running surface and wind had taken their toll and cramp started to set in. I can honestly say it's the first time that I have been genuinely concerned about my ability to finish a race. Every step was absolute agony and every incline felt like another mountain! Now I think I understand what "the wall" is! Thankfully I got chatting to a girl called Gemma who was possibly the most positive person I have ever met and helped me through the last few miles to the finish. The girl was an absolute machine, churning out the miles at an amazingly constant pace and still having enough energy to encourage and befriend every other competitor! Thank you!

Challenge Aisha

Mo being the absolute superstar that she is was waiting at the finish line with a smile, some home made flapjacks, shortbread and was even armed with some post race stretches courtesy of Mr. Motivator Clarke! Even better, on her travels she had scouted out a wonderful pub with some real ale and fish and chips on hand to aid the recovery. After scoffing down the food and opening my birthday presents (which were delivered in possibly the best bag ever!) it was off back to London to collect my car and then over to Essex for some more refuelling courtesy of JB and family. It had only been a couple of hours since fish and chips but who could resist the offer of some tatties gratin a la Bendall? Not me! A massive thank you to JB for the rather tasty post-race dinner and to Mo for everything she did on the day, from making sure it was the right day, to chasing me around the South Downs to support and generally making sure I was well looked after! Couldn't have done it without you!

I have to say although without a doubt the most difficult race so far it was a wonderful day, the race was brilliantly organized, the scenery stunning and the atmosphere and friendliness between the competitors was amazing! Well done to Robyn, Gemma, Barry and everyone else who I met on my travels :-) Jolly good show chaps!

The best birthday present bag ever? I think so!

Race Day 7 - Pilatrail des trois dents

This is usually the point where I start by saying something along the lines of "another week, another marathon". Pas cette fois (not this week)! 45km of French trail running in the Pilat national park to the South of Lyon with around 9,000ft of mountains thrown in for good measure. Ce n'était pas un marathon (This wasn't a marathon)! C'était un tas de mentalists exécutant des montagnes sous la pluie (It was a bunch of mentalists running up mountains in the rain)!

Un mentalist sur la montagne!

You'll notice that I've included English translations of my perfectly formed French sentences so that 1) those of you who didn't attain the dizzy heights of a D in GCSE French like me can understand and 2) those of you who actually speak French can understand. I can't say that I learnt much French during my trip but I did learn quite a few things about my ability to speak foreign.


1. I seem to know a word for most things in one European language or another.
1 (ii) Unfortunately most of the words are in Spanish or German!
2. Ola is NOT French!
3. My French seemed to improve during the race. Once the rain really started and I deployed the John Smith technique which seemed to be new to the French. When you're soaked through and covered in mud there doesn't seem to be much point trying to avoid mud or puddles, might as well just route 1 it right through them if you ask me. This resulted in quite a few comments, all in French of course. My favourite, or at least my favourite translation was something along the lines of "you should stop that, you're disturbing the fish".
4. Being able to make up what the marshals are shouting at you can actually become quite a fun game. There's not a lot you can do with "Allez! Allez!" or "Bravo!" but some of the more complicated instructions can be quite motivational when the task of translating is left to someone with my level of competency.


Marshall: "Prendre la route sur la droite"
My translation: "The end of the race is just down there on the right". Well merci beaucoup Monsieur Marshall, c'est un pleasant surprise!


Marshall: "Il y a une montagne massive a venir"
My translation: "There are no more massive mountains left to climb, honest!" Well that's tres bien! Much appreciated mon ami!


Marshall: "Cesse d'être une fille grosse et levez-vous à la montagne!"
My translation: "Hurry, there are several skimpily clad women waiting for you at the top of the mountain" Excellente!


Marshall: "Allez! Allez! Sissy Anglais!"
My translation: Hang on a minute, that's tres unfair! I much prefer when I can't understand what you're shouting at me! Sans les attitude veuillez!


5. It took me five minutes to explain to one French marshall at a water station that I wanted water without gas. Apparently "De l'eau sans gaz" just doesn't cut it and the international hand signs for water and gas don't work in France either! Non! Pas avec sucre! Sans gaz! Sans gaz! Non! Pas d'oeuf! De l'eau! Merde!


6. Eddie Izzard is spot on! Everything they teach you in GCSE French is completely useless! There were no mice under tables, cats on chairs or monkeys on branches!

Le singe est sur la branche! Non! Le singe n'est pas sur la branche!

After spending a day in Lyon on Saturday where the weather was nothing short of "scorchio", wait that's Spanish, isn't is, "les scorchio", that's better, me and Will.I.Am (me Da) picked up a hire car and drove down to Veranne where the race was due to start the next morning to register. So it turns out that in France you need a doctors note in order to participate in these races. Thankfully the race doctor was on hand for an impromtu medical which didn't really seem to involve much more than making sure I was breathing and had a heart beat. I just about passed both tests and was issued with a note which proves that doctors the world over have exactly the same illegible handwriting!

After passing the medical I had a quick chat with the race organizer and started to realize that trail running in the UK and France appear to be quite different things. Yet again the stupid metric system was causing issues. I had thought there was 2,100ft of climbing involved, turns out it was 2,100m which is a little bit more! I had also assumed that "des trois dents" meant that there would be three peaks to tackle, just like the three peaks challenge in week 2. Turns out that's just the name for one of more recognizable peaks that you have to run along. I lost count of the number of mountains climbed. They were still managing to find new ones at 36 and 40km, every time that I thought the descent had started there was another mountain to climb!

"Des trois dents" in slightly better weather!

We stayed Saturday night in a little village called Pelussin about 7km from the start. As we arrived to check in the rain, thunder and lightning started. Not wanting to get too wet we found a restaurant next to the hotel. The usual pasta dish had to be substituted for crepes. I love crepes!

The race started at 8:30am on Sunday morning. Unfortunately I had assumed that this was to get it over and done with before the afernoon heat. Within a mile or two I'd worked out it was because the race was going to take a LOT longer than a regular marathon. Pretty much all of the competitors had specialist trail running shoes and a good number of them also had mountain climbing poles. Every part of the route had a new and different challenge.

The paths up the mountains weren't exactly smooth!

 You can just about make out the red tape denoting the "path".

The mountains were high...

...the forest trails narrow and full of roots and rocks to trip over...

...and the way down was "descente dangereuse". I could understand those signs!

Unfortunately I can't find any pictures of the worst bit downhill through the forest where I took a couple of tumbles the last of which around 40km resulting in my right leg cramped and getting stuck in something approaching a ballet position, which I can reliably report is not much use for running! After that I had a French guy who spoke no English try to give me a lesson in the best way to run down the mountain. Based upon his technique it seems he was just telling me to slide down on my backside.

So about six and a half hours and quite a bit of climbing, falling, rain, mud and other fun later I made it to the finish to find that there were no medals! Seems a little harsh based upon the effort that went in and especially considering that almost a quarter of the participants didn't finish! I tried to get some perspective as to exactly how difficult the race was afterwards and worked out that it was equivalent to running a marathon and climbing Ben Nevis and Snowden. With that in mind the challenge for the rest of our time in France was to find some sort of make shift trophy to represent the race. With everything in France shut on a Monday the airport did not fail to disappoint from same Grade A tat. It was a tough choice in the end but I think you'll agree that the small bottle of brandy shaped like the Eiffel tower now proudly on display in my trophy cabinet does the trick nicely!

A massive thanks to my Dad for coming along for the adventure, making sure I was well looked after and especially for waiting for several hours in the torrential rain to get a couple of snaps of me finishing. Also, thank you to everyone who made a donation this week, the grand total now stands at £4,766.25 only a couple of hundred short of the five thousand pound target that I set back in January!