Daring to fail - tale of a GUCR dnf

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts" - Winston Churchill


DNF and GUCR are words that I have been lucky enough to never have to use in the same sentence. Until now. And that's exactly what I did. I DNF'd. And it feels rubbish. For so long, I was so proud to say that I had finished GUCR 4 times in a row and never dropped out. Not bad for someone who doesn't look like a 'real runner'. I never really contemplate not finishing. I always think of that as one of my strengths, to keep going, no matter what. So, it was strange and actually heartbreaking to dial that Race HQ number and confirm that I wouldn't be carrying on.

From Mile 36 to Mile 53 is a tricky section. Despite having done this race from 2012- 2015, I had forgotten how tough I find this section. It's very rural, a lot of it looks the same and the ground is quite uneven. The ground is fairly hard to consistently run on during this bit. The scenery is pretty though... During this never-ending section, I felt both mentally and physically rough and I couldn't see the let-up. I became one of those 'negative Nancies' (a miserable, negative runner who you don't want to meet on an ultra) - one of those people who is so relentlessly miserable that you run faster just to avoid them.

As I finally neared the 'unreachable checkpoint', I burst into tears and had a word with myself. I just felt limp and my mental strength had wilted in the warmth of the day. I felt sure I must be right at the back, and I wasn't far off. But, as I got nearer and nearer to the CP, some other runners emerged from behind me. By that point, I had this strange feeling that I wasn't part of the race that I loved any more. I didn't feel a part of it. I had given up. 

I know we do these races and prepare ourselves for pain, both emotional and physical, but I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I normally think things like, 'pain is part of it, deal with it', 'pain comes and goes, get on with it' and 'expect pain', blah blah blah. I was so close to the cut-offs and if I'd have carried on and made it to the 70 mile CP after the cutoffs, then I would have been stranded in the middle of the night. I know that's my fault, because I was unsupported, but it's just something I've never fully had to contend with before. I've always had stubbornness on my side, but it had all but gone this time.

Ultimately, the best I might have hoped for on zero energy was to spend another 30+ hours down a canal. Imagining another 30+  down the canal wasn't hard to imagine, as it's something I had to contend with last year, when my feet well and truly ended up battered. However, at least last year I was further ahead of cutoff's at this point in the race. Psychologically, this really messed me up this time round. 

Depressingly, my feet were great this year. I taped my big toe, arch and the ball of my foot with Rocktape the night before and it worked amazingly. I experienced no rubbing and no blisters. It was 
my body that wouldn't play ball this year.

I can't really explain. Ever since Saturday I have tried to dig deep and really think about whether there was any way I could have carried on. I hate giving up and I hate making excuses. Yet, as much as I try to explain, I can't. My body simply had no energy. I felt like a rag doll. All of my energy had been zapped from me. I wanted more than anything to move forwards and yet, I felt like I was on a treadmill. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't run for long periods of time and the miles dragged on. I felt clumsy and a bit disorientated. On more than one occasion, I dropped something on the floor. I nearly dropped my map in the canal, but it landed right by the edge. However, I wasn't so lucky with my MP3 player - I looked down after CP2 to discover that it was no longer attached to my earphones and that I'd lost it. It was a bit demotivating and frustrating. Actually, it was more than a bit frustrating - music is such a useful tool to have when you're on your own down a canal, with lots of thoughts bouncing around your head.

It was a humid day on Saturday and I definitely think this contributed to the energy-zap I felt. However, I don't want to make excuses. It just wasn't my day. If I were to put it down to fate, I may point out that my boyfriend's car broke down the night before and we nearly never made it to the start. He went through all the trouble of renting an emergency car, last minute, to help me get there! I could also point out how I couldn't find my running rucksack or OMM up until the day before the race, despite looking for over a week [I can't afford to replace everything, so I kept looking and eventually found them]. And on the morning of GUCR, there was a shortage of technical t-shirts in Size Medium, and so I wasn't able to get the shirt I had ordered - a good thing, it now appears.

I can't deny it, a big part of me did have a little bit of anxiety over possibly failing at this race. It means so much to me and as much as I know I have nothing to prove in some ways, I can't shake the feeling of still wanting to prove something to myself. That's part of why we do these races and put ourselves through the challenge, right? Aren't we all trying to prove something to ourselves; to prove that we can be better, go further, realise our dreams? But maybe, just maybe I needed to fail in order to face up to that fear of failure and realise it is possible for me to come back stronger next time. 

GUCR: 3rd time faster...

“Life is always either a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope.”

- Edith Wharton

44:24:00               43:13:00               38:25:00

Running down a canal for 145 miles (practically 147 miles in reality) is always tough. This time around was my third GUCR adventure. I have written a blog every year and you’d think I’d have run out of things to say about it. After all, it’s a canal and it hasn’t really changed too much. They haven’t suddenly landscaped any hills or built a theme park. It’s just a canal. And yet, it always seems so captivating. There’s something about that stretch of man-made water that keeps me coming back. It keeps many ‘regular’ faces coming back. I admit that at around the 100ish mile mark this year that I struggled to see why I had come back. I was in a ‘touch’ of pain and it was bringing tears to my eyes. Yet, the pain is so easily forgotten and that is the danger. So, you inevitably end up going back, because you convince yourself that there wasn’t any pain. You forget the blisters and the mental torment.

5am in the morning - feeling sleepy

Now, I’d been looking forward to this year’s GUCR for many reasons, although I was also pretty nervous. I didn’t want it to be 'third time unlucky'. I’ve had a pretty good run of it so far and I don’t take finishing this for granted. I know that it can be unpredictable. However, I was nonetheless excited because this year George would be running it. Last year, he helped man the 133 mile Checkpoint for the entire time that it was open and he emerged just before the finish to walk/ run in with me. It felt really special and he also gave me a lovely post-run bottle of Guinness and got me home safely afterwards. This year we would both be running and that was both an exciting and terrifying prospect. I was excited for him to see what all the fuss was about and experience the full craziness of GUCR, after his taster in 2013. However, I wanted us both to finish and not to get injured. There was more pressure in some ways, because I wanted both of us to have a good time. We were also running unsupported this year and it would be the first time I had run GUCR without a crew.

Me and George had already decided that we would run our own races. I knew George would be quicker than me and I didn’t want to hold him back and stop him from getting the best time possible. However, I was also going for a GUCR PB, as I’d never gotten sub-40 hours. I reasoned that no crew would mean less stopping time and more pushing forward. This was a pretty organised strategy for me. We were also organised in other ways regarding race prep. We booked a Travelodge close to the start and packed our race bags full of tasty goodies. I made a mental list of everything I knew I would crave. I always crave coca cola. Always. So, we raided the Sainsbury’s close to the start on the Friday night and stocked up on meal deals, sandwiches, crisps, pot noodles, peanuts, M&Ms, coke.

I admit that I didn’t sleep the best with all the noise outside, but the Travelodge close to the start was still our best option with no crew and not having our own transport. Anyway, I have always said that you can’t blame a lack of sleep the night before GUCR for not finishing. I can’t imagine that many people sleep well the night before a big race. I never really do.

Start to Checkpoint 1 (10.7 Miles)

We wandered to the start and began to see some familiar faces.  We grabbed a quick coffee and had a good chatter to some of the people we knew. The start of this race always makes me nervous. Before you know it, everyone is off and running. Me and George decided to run the first bit together and run our own race after the first check point. We started at a steady pace, not too fast and not too slow. I was pretty slow to wake up after only a few hours sleep. The Travelodge was hellishly noisy, with lots of trashed people partying all night on the streets of Brum and lots of beeping car horns. It was interesting. Nonetheless, we put in a good effort to begin with and tried to get comfortable. We had our OMMs on ready and near enough straight away, it began to rain. Upon reaching the first CP, I slowed down to get some food and go for a pee. I think the key is to start eating early. Start early and eat little and often.

‘The Middle bit’, also known as 10.7 miles to Checkpoint 4 (53 miles)

To be honest, this section is very much a blur to me still. Like when you have a dream and you wake up and it’s all patchy and you don’t quite remember what happened or who was in it.  I remember that there were lots of ducks and ducklings and swans and geese and goslings. There was also a lot of rain and everything seemed soaked. The ground was wet underfoot and there were lots of puddles. I just kept thinking that I was glad about my footwear choice of comfy inov8 trail shoes. It was really pretty soggy and muddy out there. I was a bit disappointed that the weather was so miserable. I remember running GUCR in 2012 when the weather was torrential and it really dampened people’s spirits (literally!). It can really bash your confidence in your ability for finish the race and stay optimistic. It’s not nice running a marathon or a small ultra in lots of rain, so the prospect of running 145 miles in those conditions has the potential to break your spirit. This mind-set made me think about George a lot. How was he? How far ahead was he? How was he finding it? Then, just before CP 4 and the 53 mile point, I got a phone call on my back-up mobile. It was George calling to say that he had only just left the CP which I was approaching. I was so happy and also strangely emotional at this realisation. He had been on my mind for a while. I was so happy when he said that he was going to walk a little bit to eat some food and that he would wait for me to catch up with him. I was longing for the company and it was a major high point to consider that I wouldn’t have to run the night section alone.

53 miles to Checkpoint 5 (70.5 miles)

It took a little longer than anticipated to catch up with George. He was like a moving target. I kept looking out for his red backpack and was hugely excited when I spotted him. I had been running between ‘walking food-breaks’, with a quickly-disintegrating sandwich in one hand and a Del Monte fruit pot in the other. It was a little awkward. But, I needed to eat some food, so it involved a bit of multi-tasking. We caught up with how each other was doing and moaned about the rainy weather a little. It was so nice to speak to someone familiar. Despite the rain we were both making good progress. So much of this section is also a blur. I mainly remember Blisworth Tunnel after the 63 mile mark (or thereabouts). I know this bit well and I’m always glad I do, because I fear that if you’ve never done this bit before, then it could be confusing to run, for what seems like ages, off-road. I also kind of like this mile or so of running on the road, because it’s a nice variation from the endless canal. Also, once this bit is done, it feels like you’re well and truly on your way to the 70.5 mile mark and almost at the half way point.

I have never reached the 70.5 mile mark before – Navigation Inn – in the daylight. I was so happy, I think I cried. In fact, I’m pretty sure someone managed to capture a picture of me looking rather emotional...

I'm pretty sure I was actually crying here - 70ish miles in

After this point, we got out our head torches and warmer clothes and readied ourselves for the night section. This preparation also included getting out our mp3 players – anything to keep yourself entertained and wide awake during the night section is welcomed. As it turned out, we didn’t really need the warmer clothes. Even though it continued to drizzle during the night section, it never really got too chilly. In fact, I ended up rolling up my sleeves and taking off layers, especially my sweaty fleecy hat.

The Night Bit

‘The Night Bit’ was tough. It was tough last year, as I found myself nodding off and having to slap myself awake. It was tough this year for similar reasons. I wanted to close my eyes ‘just for a second’. I was run/walking in a meandering zig-zag and I looked like I was drunk, but I was just falling asleep. However, I still managed to get food down and I even brushed my teeth, so I wasn’t a complete wreck. Although, the sleepiness took a long time to wear off this year and it continued past 8am in the morning. Fortunately, we were a lot further ahead on our journey now.

The Next Day Bit

In complete contrast to the Saturday, Sunday was really warm and incredibly sunny. It was nice not to have the threat of constant drizzle and be able to dry out a bit, but I wasn’t prepared for the sun either and by the end of the race I looked a bit lobster-fied.  Luckily for me and George, we managed to seek out any ice lolly suppliers along route and ultimately have two lollies at different points. This was especially refreshing since we had run out of water at one point earlier in the day. However, we did manage to track down a water point and make the most of our waterways key at around the 117 mile marker.

The Painful Bits

My feet were in a whole lot of pain. It started quite early on and just got worse. It was impossible not to get them soaked in the rain and flooded bits of trail and the skin went all white and macerated. I also had a few deep blisters under layers of shrivelled skin. At mile 100 I did manage to dry my feet and Sudocrem them, before putting on some clean socks which helped as much as it could. However, it was all about moving forward and clenching my teeth (and swearing...and a little crying).We ran to the red narrow boat, the black boat, the tree, the corner, the shadow on the path, the next bridge. We legged it. We walked. We hobbled. We had a little sniffle. We kept on going.

The damage at the end

We did it! (in daylight...)

Bits of the last bit that normally look so grim, that I remember having looked so dodgy from previous years suddenly seemed pleasant and friendly. We were nearing the end of the race, but the sun was still shining and it was glorious daylight! This was such an amazing feeling. I kept looking at my watch and checking the time against the distance to double check that I wasn’t going crazy. We would make it in daylight. Me! I’d get to see Little Venice in daylight. Bloody hell!

Pulling a weird face/ attempting a smile

As we inched closer and closer to Little Venice I started to notice familiar bits, although I always forget certain bridges and twists and turns on this last section. This year, the finish line was quite unexpected. I had experienced so many false ‘are we there yet’ moments in my mind that when we finally approached the actual finish line, it took me by surprise. I quickly grabbed George’s hand and made a run for it. I always like to run over the line on this one. I may have had a few little cries because of my feet and wanting to fall asleep, but I can run the finish. It didn’t beat me.

Results are in...

And, there we go. We were in. We made it and together. And because we made it over that line together, I felt this extra sense of accomplishment and pride. I was and am so proud of George. I’m so happy how we kept on going and pushing each other forward. We didn’t have a specific time in mind, but the time we got exceeded all expectations and was my course PB – 38hrs 25 mins.

40 hours of being awake...Finish line wooo!

I spent much of the race wanting it to be over and for my feet to be dry and rested. I also spent a lot of time contemplating why I was doing this race for a third time and if I was indeed crazy. I felt certain that I would not be back next year and that ‘this was it’, no more, I’d been there, and got several t-shirts and I was hanging up my smelly trainers. Well, that was during. On crossing that finishing line the pain miraculously disappeared. It does that with GUCR. It always happens. The truth is that crossing that finishing line is so special. It’s such a great feeling. Who wouldn’t want to experience that? Never say never (in a good way, not a Justin Bieber-esc way!)

In the meantime, GUCR adventures will have to wait...it’s the Liverpool to Leeds 130 miler up next!

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...

A year gone & a lovely *sunny* weekend in the Lakes...

I had an absolutely brilliant weekend in the Lake District.  Was it weird being back and not running on all the other days and just doing the ‘one lap’ of the lake? Yep, most definitely. It was really fun supporting and cheering on this year’s class of 10in10’ers, however. Supporting others at races when I’m not actually running myself isn’t something that I get to do an awful lot of. And I guess I kind of like that, because I really enjoy the running and so I’m not normally around a race unless I’m running. It was really fun to drive around (if not a bit nauseating…gosh, that marathon course is hilly) and support the runners and cheer them on past Check Points and probably annoy them hehe.

It was strange to see them give it their all and so focused and know that a year ago exactly I had been right where they now were. Yet I swear sometimes it feels like I never really did it, that someone must have waved a magic wand and abracadabra’d me around that lake ten days in a row. I would love to give this challenge another go someday, when I’m richer and faster. It really does get into your soul and a part of you truly does remain there. So, Saturday for me  was a lovely day to be back and a proud day to see so many brilliant runners  that I know  complete  the final tough bit on route to completing this incredible challenge. Day ten, well, that’s just a lap of honour ;-)

Sunday started as an absolutely beautiful and sunny day and remained so. It is truly magical to see such gleaming sunshine in the heart of the Lakes. Last year’s Day 10 and marathon day was plagued by torrential downpours and freezing cold wind. This year was picturesque and there seemed to be many more marathon runners out in force in the glorious weather. This was a great sight to behold, because every long distance runner should get a chance to experience this race. It is so well organised and the scenic backdrop is breathtaking and even more inspiring in the sunlight.

As we pulled up to the marathon and parked the car we were greeted by the race director of the Farnham Pilgrim Marathon which takes place along the North Downs Way. This was actually really spooky as he told us that he wasn’t about the practicalities of really handing out flyers for a marathons 300 miles way from where is actually was. So I told him I had done it last year and that awful lots of runners will travel great distances to do a good race and that indeed, his was up there. Then, I had a look at a flyer and weirdly there was a picture of me in it! It was such a weird conscience. So, I had my photo taken with him :)

After seeing the 10 in 10 runners off at 9.30am and getting a bit emotional as I again thought back to last year, we had an hour to chill out before the main marathon. I love the fact that this race is started by a band of drummers leading you down to the start. It always makes me giggle as it sounds like some sort of ceremonial death march. Or like war in beckoning.  It has an air of impending doom and excitement about it simultaneously. Well, I guess those hills aren’t always easy, so that’s the doom bit right there. However it wouldn’t be the lake without a few hills thrown in there.

I was really intrigued as to how this marathon would feel and what emotions it might bring out in me. I had been emotional on the Saturday and my mind had been occupied almost the entire previous 9 days that this year’s TIT’s were out there. It’s strange what multiple marathon running can do to you. You find yourself saying to people ‘I’m only doing the one this time’. When did doing the one marathon in a weekend become ‘ONLY’ the one? But you quickly forget the pain of the previous big challenge and in comparison, doing the one marathon sounds minuscule in comparison. However as soon as I was approached ‘Devils Gallop’ at approx mile 7/8 I remembered why this course can be tricky and I wondered how on earth I had managed to drag myself around it ten times in as many days.

Surprisingly I was running pretty well for me.  I reached ‘Penis Tree’ road and had a giggle whilst I told other runners about how this road always makes me laugh. I must have looked like a nutter. I must have looked even more of a nutter at around mile 16/17 when approaching ‘Nappy Mountain’, where I walked for a bit and felt quite tearful talking to a fellow runner who had recognised me from last year’s 10in10. It all brought back so many memories and I felt quite reflective. Actually, the bit I really don’t like which Is Newby Bridge – for some odd reason – came and went quite quickly. Okay, the busy road bit after Newby Bridge took a little longer to go and that bit is always a little tricky, but it wasn’t as bad as I have felt it to be there in the past.

Weather-wise it was beautifully sunny day and really quite warm. I was a little too toasty in places and was a little too much like a ready salted crisp. Then, at some points as we neared the lake again the air began to cool with a slight breeze. There wasn’t a hugely noticeable breeze but it was enough to cool the sweat on my skin and give me goose bumps that left me feeling a bit disorientated. 

I fuelled myself with gels and Sports (jelly) Beans during the run and I felt this worked well and was convenient. Normally, I don’t love to take gels as they can be sickly, but they worked just fine on Sunday and they were SIS ones – the least sickly ones, so they’re always pretty much okay for me to get down.

After a largely great run interspersed with some moments of sheer mental torture from memories of this route, I crossed the finish line in high spirits and comfortably under 5hours. I was really happy with this when I think of the emotions involved, the heat, the hills, the walking bits, the toothache…. I crossed the line and had a big cry. It was happy ‘glad to be back’, ‘proud of all the new TIT’s’ and emotional cry. I knew I’d have those moments, but overall it was a good run. It was so lovely to see all these amazing people join the 10in10 club and share in their day. I had a beer and cheered as they had their presentation. 

Instead of the beer following the race I maybe (definitely) should have eaten something immediately afterwards. I was hungry, but there was just so much going on that I just wanted to stay and chat to everyone. I wish I’d have eaten. Upon leaving this car park the road sign directed us left out of the driveway and back onto the marathons route up to Newby Bridge…the first 12ish miles of the course. This is blummin’ hilly to drive in the car and I should know that after having run the route that very day. Anyway, I suddenly felt very sick and to cut a long story short I had to stop the car where I got out and was really quite sick by the side of the road. Fortunately I didn’t have much to bring up, but then again if I had eaten then I maybe wouldn’t have been sick? I think the heat most definitely contributed to this puking episode. I have felt sick before after a marathon, but I have never actually been physically sick. I did feel better afterwards and proceeded to stuff my face with some much needed food on route back home.