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!
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The best birthday present bag ever? I think so!
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