*Cardiff to London, 200 miles, water and snacks on average every 25 miles. A very pared down extreme ultra with no exterior support or pacers allowed and no specific event route signage.
So, I made it to Streatley, 115 miles, 3 mins before the cut off. The sun baking off the white chalk of the Ridgeway had sent my legs to jelly. Collapsing into a plastic chair, I blinked stupidly for a few moments and the checkpoint was closed. Suddenly I was sitting in the churchyard at Streatley, my drop bag in hand, in the dnf dilemma.
My choices? The event team had immediately left. So, I could retire, or I could leave my bag in someone’s care in Streatley after I had got the things I needed to from it and head off on the next stint – 28 miles to Bisham Abbey, with about 7 hours to do it in.
Seven hours sounds fine for a long marathon except when you have only just completed the last 26 miles in 8 hours, baked to dizziness skin crisped by toiling away on the Ridgeway. Getting quicker, body depleted midway through a 200 mile race… Even on the relatively easy terrain of the Thames Path, speeding up was definitely beyond me that point. Runners who set off some 3 hours ahead of me didn’t get there in time. I would have needed to stop to refuel at a café or shop (the checkpoint being closed) and still get there completely sleep deprived in what would be night 2 of this adventure.
It felt deeply frustrating. The midnight cut at Bisham would have been impossible but 1.30am would have been doable. From 1.30am I would have had 17.5 hours to get the last 58 miles done – not out of reach, especially if I could find some form in the cool of the night. Tellingly the 11th and last finisher had 3.5 hours left on the clock. There were no cutting it fine finishes, which are something of a Cockbain Events trademark. Could I have stumbled into Big Ben before 9pm on Sunday without this arbitrary Bisham cut? We can only guess. The Thames Path is flat and familiar. Even knowing the brain is prone to self-deception, I think it would have been close.
OK, so moan over**. Of course, in truth I should simply have done better and not ended up with these ifs and buts. How did I end up so tight for time that cut offs became an issue?
A shoe malfunction at mile 18 gave me sudden and unpleasant foot pain every step until I worked it out at mile 40. About 30 mins were lost to this and ongoing bruised and blistered foot pain to deal with thereafter.- The sunshine. This was the biggie. It slowed me down and resource management was crucial. There were no aid stations on the Ridgeway and no shops. The slower you get the more time dehydrating. We can expect to get sun in May of course. But also, I hit the peak of exposure at the peak of the heat. Exposure on the Welsh Coastal Path on Friday and the Ridgeway on Saturday was unrelenting. As soon as the sun went down for the first night, I was going much better.
- Navigational slowness. I need to improve this. When I get confused by a route, I slow down to work it out. Lots of 2 minutes lost and there must have been more than 30 of these, so there goes a precious hour.
- Bad prep – I didn’t study the route as well as I might have. I was caught out not knowing some of the gnarly terrain and moonlit cow trods. Unfortunately work took priority over ultra obsessing. If I had obsessed more, I would have realised a better strategy for me would be to go out quicker and if necessary battle the crash in pace later. For once setting off too quick would not necessarily have been a mistake.
- Late nights the 2 weeks before. Working to a deadline I lost peak form at the crucial time and am not good enough to get away with this.
- Lack of commitment. Just a slight chink in the armour here as most of the time I was stoic and steadfast. But there were times on the route where I was mentally giving up to ‘what’s the point’ syndrome and ‘bad route anyway’ negativity. These are lonely events. You have to banish that.
The positive – coming into Streatley I used every last bit of energy to beat the cut there. I have not had my legs buckle like that for a while and it proved to me that I had been spirited in beating that cut. I am not left thinking if only I had run a bit faster on the section.
The cut thing – it was a problem I brought into play by my own frailties. More on top of my game and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Thanks are due to the core Mark, Byron and Pete team, the online cheers, the family and friends who allow me to train for and chase these perverse dreams, Will and Claire of the dnf rescue in Streatly, the kind strangers, the aid station volunteers and to the inspirational efforts of those of us who started and the 11 who finished this adventure.
*A note on prep. In getting ready for this event, I clocked 8hr45 on the Manchester to Liverpool 50 mile race, taking the gold medal accorded to the first 200 finishers. I was 122nd. That was mid-April, Good Friday. So, form and fitness was encouraging and although I let that slip a little the drop to 12 hours for the first 50 miles of this event points towards the sunshine, the shoe issue, the spread out aid stations, the navigation and the lack of company or support. In other words, these Hard Stuff events are simply much more challenging.
** Mark and team pour their souls into making these events affordable. They are hard and entrants know what to expect. Their tiny number of participants are spread across miles and hours of terrain, and so there are big logistical challenges to the event team in keeping abreast of the top and toe of the field.
