It's always darkest before the dawn... Thames Path 100 ramble

‘And all of the ghouls come out to play/ And every demon wants his pound of flesh/ But I like to keep some things to myself/ I like to keep my issues drawn/ It's always darkest before the dawn...’ (Florence and the Machine song, ‘Shake it Out’, which seemed to be stuck in my head for a lot of the hard night section...)

Actually, I can remember the song I had stuck in my head last year...at around the 70mile mark, in a cold, wet field; it was Paradise by Coldplay (ha)!  Somehow, ironic or not, my stuck-in-my-head song choices seem to fit!

“Whatever level of discomfort you reach, you reach deliberately. You’ve met the negative head-on, on your own terms. You own it, and you’ll own it forever.

And your world gets bigger. Your spectrum of experiences broadens in all directions — positive and negative. We don’t grow in a line. We grow in a sphere. If you master X, you get access to Y. That’s how it works”. – Johnny B. Truant (Taken from ‘You are dying, and your world is a lie’, this awesome writer dude who just writes really awesome blogs/ books/ has a website...check him out!)

So, wow, what a weekend the Thames Path 100 was!  Below is what I wrote at the time and then I’ve added some other stuff to the random ramblings....

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So, although I had trained a little, I haven’t run in two weeks whilst I’ve been in London. It’s all been pretty hectic. Good, but hectic. And then before I knew it, Thames Path race day was looming. I had massive unfinished business with this, and I was determined to do it.


A few days or so before Thames Path, I was doing some reading up of Thames Path/ Centurion related stuff on the website and also got a few pre-race emails, and then as the week progressed, it became apparent that weather would again interfere with my mission to run to oxford. When it was confirmed that the course would indeed be drastically altered due to flooding along the Thames Path, I felt pretty stressed out. Although, obviously, everyone must have...especially the poor organisers. So, the changes went like this: “The first 38 miles of the course are unchanged. At Cookham you will turn around and run back to Walton (aid station 1). At Walton you will turn around and head back to Cookham. At Cookham the second time you will turn around and run back only as far as Windsor where you will finish. Examine the aid station link carefully for the precise details. The course distance is as close to 100 miles as we can make it, but will run very slightly long, potentially 2 - 3 miles”.


Now, I love point-to-point courses because you’re running to somewhere/ progressing towards a destination, and I pretty much really don’t like laps and out-and-backs very much; I don’t even like them in marathons. Therefore, I was really dreading the fact that a 100mile course would now be made up of all these out-and-back sections. Also, I was a little worried that the path was going to end up pretty muddy/ trampled from all the running up and down. This did happen, but I think it was inevitable, and it had been wet leading up to the event. It’s quite funny, because in the first bit I kept thinking ‘oh, I don’t really like this concrete bit around the streets’, but afterwards, I think all that was on my mind and everyone else’s was, ‘please let this mud stop, bring back the concrete’.

This isn’t going to be a very clear race report, as such. I’ve got lots of work to do (and some sleeping) and most of the thoughts that keep coming to mind revolve around being chilly, mud & the race being quite brutal. Running wise, I like to think of myself as quite a tough cookie. However, it’s strange...you wouldn’t normally think of the flat Thames Path + running, and think ‘brutal’. Okay, so it was close to 103 miles, but still. Mentally it was very tough. I coped well with seeing front runners on their way back to the next CP near the start of the race. However, as tiredness set in and it got a bit chilly, you couldn’t help but ‘torture’ yourself with thoughts on how much further ahead they were than you. It wasn’t that you wanted to beat them, you just wanted the mud to be over as soon as possible and to be warm and to sleep.

Some runners reckoned it wasn’t as cold as it had been forecast. However, I felt freezing...I really couldn’t warm up & I kept layering up. During the night section, I felt so sleepy. I kept drinking Lucozade to pep myself up and listened to some music and my mp3 and sang a bit to myself...anything to keep myself awake. Oh, and I rambled onto Traviss a lot! Thank goodness I ended up running with him, it was so lovely to have company and someone to talk to/ steal American m&ms off of & generally keep myself sane for 80 miles.

At 3am on Sunday morning and around mile 65 or so, I felt a sharp pain, like I’d been cut, on the sole of my foot. I don’t get blisters a lot, but after peeling off my sock, I realised that I had a lot. The one that was causing me particular discomfort was between my big toe & second toe, right at the bottom. My feet were so macerated and blistered and sore. I just had to pierce the blisters and plaster up and hope for the best. I was a bit worried. Fortunately, they didn’t get any worse for some time. However, the pain and discomfort from my feet in the last 15 miles was awful. Really unbearable.


I kept ‘treating’ myself to little sit-downs on benches or leaning against a post, to take off my shoe and air my feet & itch them...they were so hot and itchy and sore. So, there I was, freezing, but my feet were steaming hot. Not that I was in any great physical state by this point, but I found that I was still running sort of okay, because walking was harder than run-shuffling, since it was putting more pressure on my feet/ longer contact with the ground....so I was able to do little sprints, walk, run, hobble etc. They really, really did hurt though. But I accept the pain. I know doing a 100 miler is going to involve some discomfort. I did have a bit of a cry in the last 20 miles though. I just felt very emotional. I was emotional about my sore feet and emotional about the prospect of finishing this one after last year. This weekend was just surreal.


There’s so much more I need to write really. And to mention that the volunteers/ aid station folk were all fantastic. I was moving about and freezing, so they must have been so cold stood there at the CPs, but had to keep going, to keep us all fed and chirpy.

Getting to that finish line was amazing, but so strange. I made it in around 28 hrs. 40ish something mins. It never quite seems real that you travelled that far without transport. Today I have hobbled a lot & my feet are quite swollen, but it’s all worth it :-)

Some after-thoughts....

I think I got my eating pretty spot-on for this. But it’s so easy to make mistakes and not eat enough/ the right stuff. I think it’s a pretty common thing that you get into a pace whilst running an ultra and just don’t feel like eating so much...I do this quite a lot. I can remember moments where I’ve had to literally ‘shoot’ food back before with water, which makes you want to be sick, but you have to do it anyway to just get something, anything into your stomach. This tends to happen to me if I leave it too long to eat, because then I really find it hard to chew and eat and swallow food and it’s a vicious circle that you have to break. If you don’t eat enough, often enough then you feel sick and don’t feel like eating. But if you feel sick and don’t feel like eating, then you can’t get in the fuel that you need. And if you can’t get in the fuel that you need, then you’re basically screwed!  So, I started nibbling on some munchies from the first five miles or so.

Food I munched (in no specific order)....

Traviss’s crazy American peanut butter & wafer m&ms; meal replacement protein shake; massive tasty soft oaty choc-chip cookie (everything seems to have a long name...); 3 packs of crisps; cheese wraps; buckets of coffee; chocolate coated strawberries at 73mile CP = amazing; Nature Valley oat bar; Coke; peanut butter sandwich; Pasta with some bolognaise sauce; Lucozade; more crazy m&ms; a blueberry muffin; more crisps & peanut nibbles at CP’s...

So basically....

I loved it. Even though I had a cry and my feet were trashed and itchy and hot and sore. I loved it even though I couldn’t seem to get warm and those last few miles seemed to go on and on forever, with the added nuisance of this amazingly freezing persistent mean wind that we all kept swearing at. I’ve really missed the adventure and I’m seriously craving some more. My overall time was 28h48m3s. Oh, and my trail shoes are still muddy & in a plastic bag. It’s just how I roll...

No frills, just words... (Lots of words)

I think the upsides to not running so many marathons or ultras are that I now really appreciate how great it felt, at the time, to take part in so many races; meet so many other runners and like-minded people, and run in some truly lovely surroundings.

The feeling of finishing a race is like no other, I think. It’s this euphoric feeling and nothing else really matters. It’s something that no one can take away from you. It’s this inner happiness that radiates through you entirely. It’s something that you can’t buy, but only experience through hard effort and therefore, it’s genuine. It’s something that you wish you could bottle up and really show someone who hasn’t experienced it, just how great it is. Truth be told, it’s really quite addictive. I really miss it. If only I’d done something other than an arts/ humanities related degree subject (BA Drama and English), then maybe I wouldn’t find myself unemployed. But I can’t dwell on that, and believe me, I have dwelled on this a lot. Ultimately, it wouldn’t be me if I had chosen another path. I might not even be sat here typing all of this now, because, who knows, in a different reality I may never have even run one marathon. So, no dwelling. I only wish to be able to do what I love doing some more.

I had hoped that I would be able to afford to make it to some ‘training’ marathons/ shorter ultras this February and March, in preparation for Thames Path 100 at the end of March. This 100 miler means a lot to me. As I’ve previously mentioned in other blog posts, I made it to Mile 96 last year, before the race was cancelled due to hypothermic weather conditions. Needless to say, I have a lot of unfinished business with this race, and I am also pretty nervous about taking part.

Unfortunately, I have only managed one event this year, so far. I completed the Wilmot Wander 32 miler at the end of January. Having done no events in December, it felt so great to put on my off-road trail shoes and run through massive puddles and mud. I miss it so incredibly much right now. I think I can speak for the majority of distance runners when I say, that, running is not merely a hobby for me, but a way of life. It is not just a little hobby that I could take or leave. It becomes a part of who you are. I cannot imagine who I would be, or what I would do without it in my life.

So, I have a list of marathons that I constantly update and I cross things off on this list when I have officially entered or completed an event. I think it is the one area of my life where I am completely organised (most of the time)! For February, I had entered the Belvoir Challenge 26 miler for Sat 23^rd, but ultimately I just couldn’t afford to get there.  I do look up how far away events are from where I live, in advance. However, for some reason, I had underestimated just how far away this one was.

 Actually, in the ‘good old days’, 2 ½ hours away wouldn’t have been considered so far away, by my standards. However, these days, on a budget, 2 ½ hours away is quite a lot of petrol pennies. Then on Sun 24^th, a lovely running friend alerted me to the fact that their marathon was on the Sunday – Poets Path Potter marathon. Again, my head was filled with possibilities about how I could possibly make this one, maybe I would be able to scrape together some money, and maybe I could get there...maybe, maybe, maybe. I couldn’t. This was a real shame, because it would have been lovely to see runners who I haven’t seen in so long. These are the people and the races that used to make up my weekends.



Now, instead of friendly runners and running adventures, I dread my weekends. They are lonely places, wherein I don’t see any friendly faces and I don’t go on any running adventures. Yes, I drag myself out of the house and my rut for a good 8-10 miler and my miles are getting faster, but the camaraderie isn’t there. There’s no great fun in it. They can be really enjoyable runs, but it’s not the same. I have now ‘banned’ myself from looking at Facebook newsfeed, because I just truly and completely miss all the events I used to be able to do so freely. It hurts.

There are upsides though, as I said. I weigh a lot less than I did when I was running multiple marathons every weekend (weirdly). In theory, your body just become more efficient and likely conserves more energy, rather than burning it really quickly. With so many long distance runs, it’s probably in some kind of panic/ survival mode and thinking, what on earth are you putting me through?! There’s that theory and also the fact that I definitely did eat a lot more junk after races. I just craved salty fast food and it was pretty much all I could/ wanted to eat after a really long event. Also, since not running so many long events, my running has gotten better. I’ve picked up some speed again and that feels really nice to get out there for a run and be pleasantly surprised by how much mileage you were able to pack into an hour!

So, this major lack of marathon and ultra-running does have its advantages. But, I’m not going to lie; I miss it and I’d much rather be doing more events right now. Fortunately, I’ve got thoughts of Thames Path 100, GUCR (145 miler) and Thunder Run (24 hour run) to keep myself occupied.  Yet, I’d give anything to breathe in the overpowering smell of deep heat and smelly runners’ right now...

Mad June continued with Ultra Race 100 :)

~~* It has taken me a while to upload any new bloggage. And I still haven’t posted up my Grand Union Canal Race blog yet. Three weeks after the GUCR 145 miler, which I survived thankfully, I decided to have a go at Ultra Race 100, because I could. It went surprisingly well :) So, here’s that story…. *~~

 

I didn’t really tell many people I was doing the Ultra Race Cotswold 100 miler on Friday/ Saturday just gone. I normally plaster stuff all over facebook or twitter or the like, but I decided not to.  

I was aware that it has only been 3 weeks since the GUCR and my feet had taken quite a battering in those wet conditions. It’s very strange that I rarely get blisters, but that my feet are quite sensitive and after a while they really start to get very hot and itchy and sore…although I guess that’s more normal than I think after such a long time out on the course. So, I definitely wanted to give this my best shot, but in the ‘more likely than usual’ instance that I might not make it, I didn’t want to give lots of explanations via social media etc;

It wasn’t looking great Friday morning as I had to drive myself to the start, which took nearly an hour longer than planned due to traffic and surface spray. I arrived with 5 mins to spare…just enough time to rush to the loo and I didn’t get my number until Check Point No.1…luckily they know me; otherwise I would have been in trouble. My back ached from the driving, I felt flustered, my mouth was dry and I hurriedly gave my 50mile drop back to the Race Director and then we were off. Annoyingly I had put ALL of my savoury food into said’ drop bag, because I didn’t have time to sort through it and so I only had sweet ‘food’ for the first 25 miles…I was really hungry and knew I couldn’t continue not to fuel properly, especially during the crucial early stages. I felt pretty disorganised (my rucksack was also really quite heavy too, because I didn’t have time left to sort through that either, so it contained everything for all eventualities). 

Fortunately, some lovely and very kind man gave me a tuna sandwich :) and then at the 30 mile CP, the lovely lady manning that one gave me a salami and cheese roll and Snack a’ Jacks…I was saved! I felt mentally more alert and capable. The initial torrential downpours had stopped, my dad’s basic pack-away waterproof that I had had to borrow, because I still can’t find my OMM jacket nor afford another one had held up well and I was dry underneath and what’s more, no more rain was forecast…and although I didn’t quite believe that weather prediction at the time, it was very true. It didn’t rain again.

I was feeling pretty happy at 30 miles. Time was flying by really. I decided to txt a friend and hint at what I might have been up to at that very moment in time. Before I knew it I was at CP 4 and Mile 40 and another familiar face, TZ was manning that one. It was really lovely to see a familiar face and another runner at this point because I hadn’t seen anyone for quite some while and this CP was further away than I had anticipated. I fuelled up on cans of coke, which were a lifesaver…I had some peanuts; a packet of crisps…all was good. I was feeling happy and as darkness fell, I was ready to embrace the night section.

Surprisingly, my head torch was being good…it never normally feels too bright, but it felt much better this time. Even when I have replaced the batteries before it never seems bright enough…these must have been super batteries!

The night sections were quiet and not too eventful. I swore some sort of animal growled at me from a bush, which made me run faster. We ran past a few graveyards where I thought I saw a dark figure, but I think it was just a large gravestone. I saw lots of eyes, probably foxes, but I just flickered my torch at them. Before I knew it I was half way and could finally get to my massive feast/ drop bag! I ate most of my 600 Cal+ sandwich I had picked up in Tesco’s…Geeesh, imagine if you were just eating that in normal everyday life all of the time..?! I had a can of orange Lucozade and filled up my water and got on my way. I was pretty much cat and mouse with another runner at this point until the finish! It was nice to have someone in close proximity.

There were definitely some KILLER hills on this course…it may have been easier in some respects with it all being on road…but the hills!! In another respect I guess it wasn’t necessarily easier with the road surface, because it hurts your feet after a while and I guess the pounding can be harder on your joints. Anyway, it was a lovely area in which to run. So much wildlife and so many lovely houses. On the wildlife note, I saw a weasel, hedgehog, hares (they’re creepy…too long-legged) and a Bambi in the woods :) 

Ultimately I think it’s fair to say that I did get a bit complacent with the night section…in the end. I wanted daylight. Sometimes it feels like one of those horror movies where they’re all stuck in a scary house and they’re waiting for daylight to break and when it does it means they’ve made it!! I don’t mean that I hated the night section entirely, it was certainly no horror movie, it’s just nice when dawn breaks and you can look forward to that new day and eventually that finish line. It was indeed a lovely sunrise and a very sunny day. 

We were so lucky, when I hear that a lot of the rest of the country was waterlogged and torrential. We had a slight wind but it was actually quite refreshing. I got a bit toasty later on and after the race was over I realised that I was even sunburnt. All this nice and calm weather after my initial feeling that rain just follows me around these long ultras; on the Thames Path 100 and the GUCR. I guess it did for a time here, but then things brightened up for us.

I really thought that this course was well marked…there was one long road when I didn’t see and arrow for a while and got paranoid, but thankfully it was paranoia. That paranoia was mainly fuelled by the fact that it was a massively steep downward hill and the thought of going wrong here was unthinkable because it would have meant going all the way back up this really steep hill and that wouldn’t have been good. All the major signposts and lampposts had arrows and UR signs; you just had to keep your eyes peeled.

In the latter stages my feet really began to hurt…really hurt…in agony... I began the good old ‘Liz Remedy’ of taking off my steaming hot trainers and itching my hot tired feet. It is the only relief that seems to give my feet any sort of momentary physical/ psychological rest bite when they are hurting that much. I felt a bit teary, because other than this I felt fine. I also walked on some patches of grass by the side of the road barefoot for a couple of minutes at a time and perched myself on any bench or wall I could find at regular intervals. I also dreamed of dipping them in a freezing cold streams and finally I popped a few painkillers, gritted my teeth and got on with it! I put on the mp3 player and sang and ran and walked and then ran to another tree/ wall/ lamppost. The hills were still furious and unrelenting and my feet were sore and screaming but I had gotten so far, I knew I would never drop. It was just a case of getting this pain over with as quickly as possible. My legs were fine. Weirdly, my feet look fine. Again, absolutely no blisters or manky nails, just very tender feet. 

I was making good time for me. I could have gone even faster if it had not been for the feet, but that is the price I paid for doing two long ultras pretty close together and I could live with that. I had originally said I wanted to finish in 27 hours, but really, I didn’t care…I just wanted to finish! I started to get emotional and had the occasional sniffles trying to sneak through my ‘just get on with it’ attitude. I knew I looked a state as I passed members of the public and gave a little smile or hello’.

Ultimately we were on the last bit and the last mega hill. It was time to follow the final map instructions that would lead us into the finish. I overtook a lady in the latter stages…within the last mile. Suddenly, really as if by magic my feet didn’t hurt at all. They didn’t hurt one bit and I got a bit of a sprint on. Stratford was busy and I had to ask directions to the leisure centre. I had forgotten we had crossed a bridge. I eventually put my sensible head on and started picking up the Ultra Race arrows on lampposts again. This was it, the finish and I couldn’t believe it! Woooo!

I officially finished in 27:19:32 :) & 2nd lady (although there were only 3 of us, so doesn’t reaaalllly count, but still pretty happy). Obviously there were runners that were phenomenally faster than me, but I’m really pleased with how this adventure turned out! I think overall I must have drunk 8 cans of coke, a can of orange Lucozade and 2 teeny bottles of coke yesterday, no wonder I didn’t get my usual sleepy lull during the night…bouncing off the walls! So, not going to have loads of sugar or caffeine this coming week…I’m sure it’ll prob be the sugar I avoid most because I like my coffee!

Whilst walking back to my car, two members of the public shook my hand. The said they were marathon runners and knew how hard running could be. Then they said, ‘Not many people do what you all do.’ It made me feel quite teary and proud and put a little perspective on things. It can be easy to get too used to the craziness of this sport, but I guess we all are a little crazy when it comes down to it. It is something to be treasured. Sometimes I think I need to remind myself that all of this is pretty darn cool and embrace how amazing it feels to run so far. And as for all the craziness, well, I like that

The Thames Path 100 Adventure

No great genius has ever existed without some touch of madness. (Aristotle)

I’m not sure if I’d call the idea genius or madness, but wanting to run 100 miles seems pretty sane to me in a mad way. If you can, why wouldn’t you want to get out there and do something so exhilarating? Such dreams and adventures make life interesting.

I don’t really know where to begin, so I’ll start with the fact that this was a big deal for me. I have wanted to run 100 miles for a long time and I’ve attempted it twice before. Ok, my previous attempts may have been a little half hearted in the planning division and silly. I didn’t organise well. I attempted to run them off the back of multiple marathons and just didn’t give myself the best chance to at least finish. One day it would be nice to do a little more than just finish, but that’s all I was concerned about with the Thames Path 100 and all that I’m still concerned about. And I really look forward to building up experience at this sort of distance and becoming stronger with it.

 

 

 

Start: Richmond

Where it all began. To say we were in a rush to make it to the start is an understatement. Why am I NEVER on time? I am seriously always late for everything even if I try or plan to be on time. In all fairness, that motorway and roads coming into London are manic.

Ironically, we has stayed in Lechlade-on-Thames the night before, which is regarded as the traditional source of the River Thames. On the way out of Lechlade we came across many road signs for the country of Oxfroshifre. It was hard to believe that I would be running back in this direction to Oxford on my adventure. I also saw a religious sign by the side of a road declaring that ‘There is a heaven and a hell’. I would figure out that this is certainly true over the course of the weekend. 

I was seriously panicking in the car. I remember distinctly panicking about my lateness, needing to drink a bit more water, desperately needing to go the loo and sort my number and myself out. Contemplating the imminent prospect of running ONE HUNDRED miles is scary enough, but adding my lateness into the mix really had me stressed out. I arrived with about 30mins to spare. An aid station guy would later tell me that I was literally a few seconds away from missing out on getting my no. as they were about to pack registration up. As I was arriving, a tonne of other runners were descending the stairs that I was about to climb. They were all leaving the race briefing that I had happened to miss. Oh well, I hope it wasn’t important. I don’t believe I missed anything. I’m still in one piece. Ignorance is bliss. And before I knew it, we were off…loads of us. People cheered. I felt scared. This was it.

Aid 1: Walton On Thames 12 

I had been really worried about the cut-offs in the run up to this race. I was really very worried. I have the strength of mind to know I can do it, I think. Well, at least I know that if I focused more I could be much better, but my will to run ultra’s and see them through is quite strong. Anyway, that has nothing much to do with cut-off’s. All you need gather from that ramble is that I was nervous about my speed (lack of) and not making the cut-off’s for each Aid Station, even though I know deep down that I am damn well capable of such.

Well, I comfortably made Mile 12 & the first aid station in just over 2ish hours…so quite a good pace for me. Obviously, I wasn’t planning on keeping that up, but I thought whilst the going was good, I’d better get going! Although, I must admit, it did start to get rather warm out there and I was feeling quite toasty. I remember drinking a lot of water and feeling quite thirsty. I made sure I kept on top of electrolytes and food from early on. I was eating small handfuls of trail mix and taking an electrolyte capsule every hour. I think this was a good thing and served me well later on. Well, I like to think it was the sensible thing to do.

Aid 2: Wraysbury 22

I don’t remember the particulars exactly. I don’t think there will be a lot of detail in these earlier stages because my memory is rubbish. I’ll save the stories for the juicy bits… I don’t think I was feeling particularly good around this point. By no means was it boiling but I just felt really hot and I hate feeling warm whilst running. And obviously when you run you create heat and so there’s a bit of a vicious cycle thing there. Maybe some of it was mental because we were still so early on, with 3 whole marathons left to do. That sounds a bit mad when you put it like that. My insides just felt really sloshy, but my mouth felt really dry. I needed refreshment, but I didn’t need lots to drink.

Aid 3: Windsor 28

My mental state started to feel a bit better as I contemplated the prospect of reaching the 30 mile mark. I also got talking to some really friendly people and it was nice to feel ‘awake’, not that I was tired already, but my mind was whirring from thoughts of the tiredness that would come and I had been alone with my own thoughts for too long, so it was nice to have a little company. I was still sticking well within the cut-off times, but I had slowed a bit. I still felt a bit nauseas.

Aid 4: Cookham 38

I think it was around this bit that we might have gotten a bit lost. Loads of people seemed to have gotten lost at the exact same place. The Thames Path seemed to just end and there was no obvious diversion route to follow. Some guys decided to jump the fence and back onto the cordoned-off tow path. I would have, but I didn’t want to do so and then be faced with a barricade a bit further down. Luckily for those guys, this wasn’t the case and there was merely a mesh fence that was really easy to sneak around. Me and some others decided to carry on down the central reservation of a rowing lake and eventually emerged back onto the Thames Path with the help of some Race HQ arrows. I heard later that some others hadn’t been so lucky around this tricky bit and had gotten really lost and ultimately didn’t get any further in the race. 


We definitely wasted a bit of time; maybe around 30mins. It is a pain, but the main thing is to think about a logical solution to getting back on track. We were able to ask someone local and he assured us we were going the correct way. Even so, it does add a bit on unwanted pressure to ‘the game’ when you lose precious time. You begin to worry about making future cut-offs.

Ten miles between these aid stations felt like forever and I had begun to really look forward to reaching them. They served as little milestones on our journey. I had also become addicted to Coca Cola and took the initiative to down a few cups at every aid station. It gave me a bit of a lift.

Aid 5: Marlow 44

It was good to get to Marlow. I particularly remember Marlow from September when I took part in XNRG’s Toad Challenge, which involved running 90 miles of the Thames Path over 3 days. It sounded familiar and it was that step closer to half way, so I was feeling quite chirpy at this point.

Aid 6: Henley 51

I had made it to half way. Woooo. I was in such a better mental place at this point than I had been at the start. I had been worried about making the cut-off’s all the way along and I had gotten to this point with over an hour to play with. It had all become a numbers game. Unfortunately, a guy I had been running with for quite a while decided that he was going to retire and so I found myself alone again and contemplating a dark tow-path. I decided to wait. I didn’t wait because I was scared. I waited because I knew that I would be in a better place if I were to run along with others at this point. I was happy I waited almost 20 mins or so. The guys I ran with now it was dark were great. One of the guys was racing and his friend was pacing him for the next 30miles. My pace picked up, I felt perkier and I ran faster than I had for most of the day. They were also very kind and leant me a brighter torch…my head torch is rubbish, but I had blown my ‘race budget’ on new shiny trail shoes, so I had  just settled.

Aid 7: Reading 58

We ran across fields and before I knew it, we had reached Reading. We still had a little time to play with, but the next bit was a real toughie. The next bit was something I had worried about for weeks. Long before race day I had printed off the check point destinations and the cut-off times for each and I had written how any miles in what time period I needed to be reaching. This one stood out. If I was to reach Reading near the cut-off of that aid station time then that would leave me with 9 miles to do within the space of 1hr 45min, in the dark after having covered 60+ miles. Not being the fastest of the fast I was worried. I had wondered why such a tough cut-off existed at this point, when we had safely gone past half way. 



It seemed so disheartening to think that if we missed the next check point time then we would be disqualified from the race after all that effort and in the knowledge that I knew I could do this. I was a little bit angry and emotional and stressed out. I kind of still don’t think it was too necessary to have such a strict check point cut-off here. Ok, it would not have been strict to a lot of people, but I do know a few others were a bit aggrieved to.

We had just left Reading and the guy who was being paced by the pacer who was now pacing me (I felt bad for seemingly hogging him actually) decided to retire. It was a really sad moment and a reminder to how quickly things can change in an ultra. I felt a bit bad that his friend may have felt obliged to still run ahead with me, but I will be forever grateful to him for pushing me forward to the next tricky aid station. 

Getting to that next aid station was mental torture. Would I make it? Would I be timed out? I could not afford to get lost and I kept getting paranoid we were going the wrong way. Then we lost time because a boat yard obscured the tow path and to us, it just seemed like it had ended abruptly. We meandered around for a little while and I felt sure my game was over. Even when we carried on along a path we discovered to the side of the boat yard, it didn’t seem right to me.  I didn’t recognise this bit from my run in September. I tried to reason with myself that it had been daylight then, but negativity just filled my mind. I felt miserable and that I had failed yet again in my dream to run 100 miles.

I had all but given up and then like finding gold, there was an arrow and tape and it was our Race HQ arrow and tape. I love that feeling of finally discovering you are on the right track. It is the BEST feeling.There was a moment of great happiness before it was replaced yet again by the urgency of reaching that dreaded checkpoint. We arrived with minutes to spare. I was knackered from literally sprinting to make the cut-off (grrrrr) and I really needed to pee. I didn’t have time to. I had to have left the aid station by the time the cut-off was reached. Here is where my stolen pacer bid farewell. I can’t thank him enough. I still greatly need to thank him. He let me borrow his torch to continue on. You meet some of the kindest people on long distance runs.

Aid 8: Whitchurch 67

Now this next section should have been easy, but I remember it from the time I ran it in the daylight and oddly enough for a pretty flat ultra, this bit has hills. There were no mountains, but these hills were very much unwelcome at this point. This was the longest 4 miles I had encountered in a very long time. I remember feeling so lonely and sad all of a sudden. I couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeless and I remember thinking ‘Why am I so useless as an ultra runner, how would I ever finish, how could I ever attempt to do so again, was I really cut out for it?’ But it can be like a rollercoaster on a long run. One minute you’re feeling amazing and the next minute you can feel so low and everything seems to be going wrong even when it’s not necessarily going wrong. My mind started to wander off into negative territory and thoughts of sleep. I suddenly felt so drained and my energy had really dipped. As I ran down a narrow dark trail, I felt like I was swaying. Around this time it also started to drizzle a little and I put on a waterproof layer. I felt sure that if I made it to the next aid station, I wouldn’t make it any further.

Aid 9: Streatley 71

I finally made it to Streatley, which seems an odd thing to think since it was only 4 miles since the last check point. Believe me, they were a really long 4 miles to me. I didn’t have a lot of time to spare and so it was just a case of grabbing some food and getting out of the aid station as quickly as possible. Happily I came across some other runners who I hadn’t seen for hours who were only just leaving this aid station. We didn’t run together, but it was lovely to know there were people out there, as we ran into fields and along pathways. Food-wise I had gulped down some tinned peach type fruit and grabbed a jam donut, literally running out of the aid station with it before they could tell me that I was all a dream and that maybe I hadn’t made the cut-off times after all. All was ok.

Aid 10: Benson 79

This took a really long time to appear and I even believe we may have been late to get there. In fact I’m pretty sure we were late for the cut-off at this one. All I remember is that a few miles back, as the daylight emerged, I suddenly looked around and ahead of me in this field were more runners that I hadn’t seen all through the race. I was so happy. There were still people out there! There was quite a few of us. Hurrah! 

At about this point it really began to piss it down and it didn’t stop. It didn’t stop at all. At first it was kind of refreshing and almost served as a bit of a morning wake-up call. However, the presence of the rain soon became a bit troublesome. Quite quickly, the ground became muddy and hard to navigate at any speed. You really had to be careful where you put your feet and even with rugged trail shoes on you couldn’t help but slip and slide everywhere. I think we all agreed that this section, from Streatley to Benson seemed to take forever. Once we had finally got past the muddy fields, we were then faced with what seemed like a HUGE diversion, literally ‘around the houses’ and down some roads. We were maybe 10 mins late for the cut-off, but I don’t think we could have moved much faster. Lucozade awaited me here and I think it woke me up a bit and hopefully made me move a bit faster.

Aid 11: Little Wittenham 82.5

This was a random little aid station just before a weir crossing and into endless fields. I was in high spirits here. It was raining a lot, but I was still going. I had made the cut-off’s and I had plenty of time to finish. It was all homeward bound as far as I was concerned.

Aid 12: Abingdon 91

This 8 ½ miles to Abingdon took FOREVER. It may have been the endless fields and the muddiness and the rain, but it took a long time. I don’t know how much time it took because my Garmin had long since died and I didn’t want to get my mobile out to check on the time for fear of water damage. I think I had another watch somewhere, but the aim at this point in these conditions was just to keep moving forward. Besides, I didn’t want to go rummage around in my rucksack as everything else would have got soaked. I stopped every now and again to take my shoes off and itch my feet…they were so hot and tired. My feet were literally steaming. Anyway, it provided a bit of relief to take them off. I put on my mp3 player and tried to focus on the end goal. Somehow I had managed to select a few tracks and it kept on shuffling those few…so I ditched the mp3 in the end as the repetitiveness was making me feel that little bit crazier.

Through mud and sweat and freezing wind and driving rain we got there. Absolutely soaked to the skin. I was most happy to get indoors at the aid station and got to use the loo. Although, it was a funny experience trying to get my shorts back on afterwards…it was like trying to wriggle into a wet wetsuit. Lots of people changed clothes here, but I didn’t have a drop-bag and I wanted to get out as soon as possible. It may have provided momentary relief to change into dry clothes, but I knew that as soon as I stepped outside they’d be soaked again in a matter of minutes. Even though we were indoors, I could feel myself cool down so quickly once I had stopped moving. I wolfed down a hot dog so fast it gave me the hiccups and I had a bit of tea. I managed to retrieve my fleecy buff from my bag and would use that to put over my nose and mouth when I got back out there. It’s amazing how something as simple as a fleecy buff can make all the difference in the world. Just as I was about to leave I looked out of the window and saw snow coming down. Just to check I wasn’t imagining this sight, I asked someone: ‘Is it just me, or is it snowing?’ They started to say that maybe it was just me, oh no, wait, oh yeah it is snowing! Next thing I know I was darting out of the checkpoint and back on the river path.

Aid 13: Lower Radley 95

I must have looked like a right weirdo with all my kit on. After all, it’s not like I was out running in the wilderness, this was the Thames Path! I tried to make as much forward progress as I could. Ultimately, the path became like a swamp. There was so much mud and I’m used to mud. However, at this point in the proceedings it was a bit of a nuisance. I just wanted to get to where I needed to be as fast as I could and this was slowing me down significantly. It was making me even colder than I was. As the sleety snow continued to come down I just tried to keep some sort of focus but it seemed like madness. The wind was adding to the freezing temperatures. What should have been a relatively pleasant 4 miles to the last aid station had turned into a bit of a pain. I was happy to be so close to the end, but annoyed at this obstacle that Mother Nature was throwing in my path. It’s like it was doing it on purpose haha. However, I was so intent on finishing this race I think I would have done anything to finish. Nothing else seemed to matter.

I finally neared a corner in the path and was approached by a race official. They were cancelling the race. The race had been pulled. Conditions were too dangerous and the wind-chill had added to the seriousness of the plummeting temperatures. A few runners had been hospitalised with hypothermia and others had shown signs. I had made it to the last aid station with 3 hours left to make it to the finish and with 5 miles to go, at NINETY FIVE miles into it all, the race had been cancelled :( 

Well, all I could say was OK. I didn’t really know what to say.                   

Finish: Oxford

Ok, well I didn’t make this…not really. But I have no doubt that I would have done and at the end of the day, when everything else was out of my hands, that is good enough for me. I had around 3 hours left to do the last 5 miles in. If the race hadn’t have been cancelled due to the deteriorating weather and hypothermia concerns then I would literally have crawled to the finish if it meant I got there. Yet, I could still run fine and maybe that added to my anger a bit at the annoying weather, because I was still good to go. Thankfully, at the end of the day I finished in good health, with unblistered feet and just a bit drenched and sleepy. I was upset though and I had a bit of a cry once I had gotten home and thought about the eventfulness of the weekend. 

I fully respect the race director’s decision. At the end of the day the safety of the runners is paramount and I couldn’t even imagine being faced with ensuring the safety of so many people, especially in such bizarre weather conditions where the forecast seemed to change so unpredictably and suddenly.

However, I was upset and it’s something that goes around in my head a bit. If only I was faster on this bit and that bit then I could have gotten to the last aid station quicker and left quicker and therefore could have gotten to that finish line. Yet, on the flipside, there were moments where I felt so low or a bit nauseas and things weren’t going great where I thought that I simply would not make it much further than 70+ miles and I did. 

I guess, overall I will look upon this as a great learning experience. I don’t feel like I failed, because that was totally out of my hands. As far as I’m concerned I didn’t see that finish line but I did finish. Us ‘back of the pack’ runners dealt with so many added obstacles along the way and faced all those obstacles head on. I worked hard for that finisher’s medal and I’m proud to wear the t-shirt. And after all the negative thoughts, all I can think of right now is, ‘When is my next 100 miler going to be?’