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?’
