GUCR: The Return (da da daaaa)

“Life is an experiment in which you may fail or succeed. Explore more, expect least.” -  Santosh Kalwar

Once upon a time...

...It finally hit me just how fast the last year had gone. Of course, I had spent most of that year blathering on about the Grand Union Canal Race to everyone and anyone who would listen. I hadn’t always liked canals and amusingly, there were still times that I found myself down a canal on the odd trail marathon and couldn’t wait to get that bit over with. But, the GUCR in its entirety is different. It lures you in. There is this promise of adventure coupled with extreme challenge. You have to push through this mental barrier at many mile markers along the way. Sure, 40 miles is a long way, you think, but it’s not in the GUCR, well, not in the initial stages. At 40 miles in, you still have a mere 105+ miles left to cover. I like that. I like the enormousness of it.

So, it came to be that I sort of got a bit hooked on this race. It’s become a bit special to me and I think that’s true of a lot of people I know who have had the pleasure to complete this adventure.

Okay, similar to last year, this has taken me ages to write down in words. Nothing has been quite coherent regarding this weekend almost two weeks ago. I have flashes of vivid memories about things that happened, things that were said, done, eaten, encountered, thought etc. But there are so many memories and emotions and thoughts that it would never be fully possible to write down it all and sum up everything perfectly. So, here goes an attempt to try and do some of that....

Let’s start at the beginning...

I had an awesome crew. This could sum up this section entirely and the rest of everything else to do with this race. I had an awesome crew. And really, that is what got me to the finish. The end. But, I will digress... It was Friday and I finished getting all my junk together. I had packed a massive suitcase which was packed with loads of separate bags and rucksacks; one had my race kit in, the other had warmer running stuff for the night sections, others had meds and lotions and potions and stuff and a few others had food and Coca Cola supplies. Sorted. All in all, I looked like I was moving house. But I never do pack light and I had convinced myself that everything would be needed. I think I was right. And packing everything in separate bags inside this main massive suitcase was a good strategy. Friday night, we were staying at Denzil’s house. He would take me and Jon to Birmingham at 4.30am on the Saturday morning and with all my different bags sorted, I could easily get at what I needed to take to his and what needed to be packed in our camper-crew-van.

So, ultimately, I found myself at Denzil's (via Jon’s) and then in the pub. A couple of pre-race Guinness’s were definitely called for and although I always feel a bit nervous, these definitely made me feel quite relaxed. Now, I don’t get to sleep well early. I’m a little bit nocturnal and I go to bed far too late almost all of the time. It doesn’t matter to me that I may need to get up at stupid o’clock in the morning. So, even though I knew I had to get up at 3ish to ensure that all my stuff was together and I was all organised for our 4ish-am exit / journey to Brum’, I still didn’t nod off to sleep until way after 12am. I felt like I had quite a good few hours sleep, however. And I was excited. Everything seemed very relaxed. Well, that is until the ‘Bra-gate’ debacle happened....

The Bra-gate incident...

So, last year, ‘OMM-gate’ happened. It was 2^nd June 2012 and it was absolutely chucking it down with rain. I was cold, I was soaked. And I was about to run 145 miles. During the incident of 2012, I was saved by layering up and the versatility of the humble bin bag. The bin bag saved me. Poking some arm holes in the sides and a head hole though the top wasn’t the most fashion-forward look, but it was simple and waterproof and it did the trick brilliantly. Flash forward to the early hours of May 25^th 2013 and I had no such worries about rain and waterproofs. Firstly, it wasn’t raining and the forecast was sunny. Secondly, I had long since found my trusty OMM waterproof jacket and I had no worries that it would serve me well if rain did strike. But wait, there was another problem. This was something unforeseen. I had packed my running kit that I would be wearing the previous day and sectioned everything off into the appropriate bags.

How had this happened? How had I missed this essential piece of kit? Yup. It was nowhere to be found. Somehow, to my horror and annoyance, I was missing my sports bra (da da daaaaa). Now, fortunately I don’t have very big, erm, boobs. This is a good thing running-wise and definitely very good when you don’t know where the hell your sports bra is. However, even so, the thought of running 145 miles in a conventional underwired bra is quite a painful concept. I imagined it digging in and rubbing and generally not being very comfortable. And I would have been right. It just wasn’t a good option to run 145 miles in this ordinary bra. So, what to do. Well, I ranted a bit on twitter and Facebook at 4am in the morning and hoped by some stroke of luck that it would turn up. Thankfully, it was found. In the end I ran approximately 26 miles in my ordinary bra and it wasn’t the most comfy thing ever. I was so happy that Sarah managed to find my sports one in my spare kit bag. I was able to cross a lock gate and hop into the back of Denzil's van to change. Everything was looking up again and it was just one less thing to worry about. The Bra-gate scandal had been resolved.

The First Bit...

We arrived at the start, which is always a good start ;-) and in plenty of time. I savour every moment of every race that I manage to make on time and with chill-out time to spare. These are special moments, because, left to my own devices, I am always late for pretty much everything. Therefore, although I was still mulling over the loss of my sports bra in my mind, I was actually pretty relaxed. And I hadn’t yet had my morning coffee, so I was utterly delighted to see that there were hot drinks being offered to runners out of the back of a van – and it was free! So, I fuelled my sleepy self up on coffee. Although, unlike last year, I was feeling pretty wide awake. It was all very bizarre, because I really hadn’t had too much sleep at all. I can recall how I felt at the start of 2012’s GUCR so vividly and I remember feeling absolutely knackered. In fact, I felt so exhausted right before last year’s race that I felt sleepier than I did at both the end of last year’s GUCR and this year’s run. Weird.

At the start line, there was a lot of déjà vu going on. I can’t believe a whole entire year went so quickly. I think I have already stated this, but it is pretty crazy. I think life is speeding up. Like last year, we walked up the road and round the corner to this posh hotel to use the bathroom facilities. I had major flashbacks of the nerves I felt before last year’s race at this point. Thankfully, it wasn’t raining cats and dogs like the same time last year, wooo! After the vital pre-race luxury loo visit, we headed back to the start. Here, I was so excited to see so many familiar faces. It was like a big reunion.

Lots of runner hugs and rambles were had, along with a lot of cheesy Facebook-worthy photos. The mood was happy and excitable and everyone was gearing up to go. I think they were anyway. I looked at my watch and there was only 10 mins to go until kick-off. Slowly, people started to filter through to the towpath where Dick was giving his pre-race speech. In fact, the last time I was stood at this bit of towpath wasn’t at last year’s GUCR at all – it was the week after when I went out and got quite tipsy in the neighbouring bars! So many memories from this bit of canal... I noticed that I lot of runners were facing the wrong way, which is easily done. Fortunately, for once, I was sure of my direction.

I do love the low key start of this race. Words are spoken. People listen nervously. And then, suddenly the race starts. Now the first bit of towpath is pretty narrow and not the prettiest. I’m no speedster and I definitely wasn’t entertaining the thought of going out fast anyway. So, I stood to the side whilst the speedy ones went in front and positioned myself near the back. 145 miles is a long way and I’m not sure I have any sort of formula for getting to that finish line as such. However, my instinct tells me to hold back and play it cool and block out how fast anyone else is going. This is a game between me, myself and I. My approach would probably be far more refined if I trained hard for these things and was really fit, but it is as it is for now and I don’t mind playing the long game.

Me and Jon settled into a nice comfortable pace and chatted away. I was feeling really relaxed and enjoying the cool but beautifully sunny morning. It was only the beginning, but things felt positive. Then, suddenly this relaxed atmosphere was shattered. Whilst running underneath a bridge, Jon took a painful fall when he hit his head on the low wall/ roof. It all happened so quickly and he really hit it with force.  Before I knew it, he was on the floor. It’s hard to know what to do or say when these things happen I guess. But, he was speaking and awake and after the initial shock he could tell me who he was, where he was and what silly race he was doing. At this point I definitely saw just how kind the running community can be.

Other runners eagerly provided assistance and asked if he was okay and handed over tissues for the cut that Jon had sustained to his head. Fortunately, everything turned out good and there were no more bridge-head-banging incidents. I think we both became hyper aware of bridges from that point onwards! Approaching the Mile 10 CP, we were pretty much at the back. I just kept telling myself not to worry. There is always a high drop-out rate and I would not be on that DNF list. Yet, there was no denying that the field had gone out pretty darn fast. We literally saw no other crews for maybe 30 miles/ maybe more. This was so different to 2012 when we frequently saw other crews along the way. It can be mentally hard when you just don’t see many other supporters out there for so long. Your head starts to play silly mind games with you and you start to question your game-plan.

Well, maybe I had a little game-plan; slow and steady. I was also very focused on re-fuelling often and making sure I took in enough electrolytes and fluid. It was shaping up to be a scorcher of a day and I didn’t want to get into any tricky territory of feeling or being sick. Still, my mind sounded alarm bells which went something like ‘Oooh no, where are all the other crews and runner gangs...where are all the friendly encouraging faces...? Wow, everyone else is so far ahead, so far ahead...and it’s only the beginning, why can’t I go faster...could I go faster?’ 

Then, fortunately for my sanity, the sane and calming part of my mind would chime in: ‘Hey, relax. There is a lonnng way to go and you’re doing fine. It’ll all change. It always changes. You know some of those people ahead, well, some of those will not finish. There’s plenty of time and you’re well within the cut-offs. Don’t panic. Focus.’ Okay, so maybe my thought processes were not quite so coherent and well scripted, but the conversations that my mind was having with itself went something like that, pretty much constantly, for maybe about the first 80 miles.

Onwards and onwards...

Time is weird during long ultras. Before you know it, hours have passed and you’ve reached a milestone and then another. Then, when you’re in pain, the miles suddenly become much longer and time slows down completely and every step seems to take an eternity. First milestone that stands out for me was getting the first marathon done. We met our crew at a lock and refuelled with cola and pringles. And there at this meeting point my amazing crew had found my sports bra! Hurrah! So, I shuffled over a lock gate, Denzil passed me the keys to his van and I hopped in the back to change. Relief. I was feeling in pretty good spirits. And it was time to move forwards again.

I found some of the next section quite difficult. I was starting to feel a bit frazzled by the sun and could feel my arms burning. I started to have some negative thoughts. I think we were at around 37 miles and I kept thinking about how we had run a small ultra, but had almost 110 miles left. In a few brief moments of negativity, I started to confront just how far that was and it felt so impossible. Of course, I knew it was possible, but I was on a downward dip on the rollercoaster. Fortunately, rollercoasters climb and twist all over the place. So do ultras. And moods.

Fooood, Foooooooood...

Pringles. Coca Cola. Pringles. Cheese Sandwiches. Traviss’s Crazy American Peanut Butter M&Ms. Kettle Crisps. Peanut M&Ms. Pringles. Coffee. Trail Mix. Salted Popcorn. Nutty 9Bar. Lots of Fizzy Electrolytes. Carrot Cake Cupcakes (Made by Sarah, these were amazing & so easy to eat). Chocolate Brownie. Fab Ice Lolly. Yummy Salty Chippy-Chips. Jelly. Orange. Banana.

My food strategy was very much the same as last year – eat small bits early and often. I didn’t want to feel sick and I’ve done that so much before in other ultras, where I haven’t fuelled properly and felt awfully nauseous.  It’s a vicious circle. If you don’t eat, you don’t finish. But, I had my sensible head on for this. It meant too much to me. And I’m stubborn. However, the task of eating regularly was made a little trickier by the sunny weather. I think it definitely supresses your appetite and makes you not want to eat too much. In times of struggle, pringles were my rescue food. They are so easy to eat and full of salt and calories = perfect! Oh, and we found a little canal-side shop selling ice lollies :-) this was such a great idea.

Sleepy sleepy darkness & wanting to curl up on a narrow boat pretty please...

“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” - Mark Twain

As darkness fell, thoughts of last year drifted into my head. Sure, I was sleepy, but at least it wasn’t raining. Last year I had to slap myself to keep myself awake, as my eyelids began to close and I shivered underneath the shelter of a bridge with a coffee in my hands. Things that stand out in my memory from this year’s darkness: 

1.) Approaching Navigation Inn (almost the half-way point). I have lots of memories of this section and I’ve run this section a number of times on various race routes over the years. The canal bends and bends and goes on and on at this point. You think you’re nearly at the bridge and then you’re round a corner and there isn’t anything there. Then, finally, just when you’re getting a bit fed up, you see it. You see the hustle and bustle up ahead and that really nice looking pub that you hope you might be able to go in one day and chill out with a pint. You see the orange lights and you’ve made it to another milestone in the race. 

2.) Heading towards Milton Keynes and nearing the late 70s – 80 mile mark, my head became muddled with negativity. I was so tired. I was struggling to keep awake. Seeing all of those cosy narrow boats became a sort of sleep deprived torture. I just wanted to snuggle down in the warmth. I needed to snap myself out of this mind-trap quickly. I sat myself down on a bench and gave myself a talking to. What was I looking forward to?Well, in that moment, I was longing for the daylight. I was longing for a huge hug from my boyfriend, George and I was excited about seeing him at the CP at Mile 133. Yep, that was still a long way off, but it was edging closer and I just had to stick this darkness out. Everything is better in the daylight and I knew I would begin to wake up when the sun came up. So, I told myself all of this as I sat on that bench, alone in the darkness. I downed a mini bottle of full-fat coke and I got out my mp3 player. I needed to stimulate my brain somehow. Listening to music really helped me to stay on track and alert during this sleepy tough section. I may even have done a little singing to myself... 

3.) The mist. There were these swirling clouds of foggy mist on the water. It was spooky, surreal and beautiful all at the same time. However, it was also incredibly difficult to see where you were going. If I’d have taken my head torch off of my head and aimed it more towards the ground I would have been able to see more easily, but I was in a stubborn and sleepy state and it seemed like too much effort for me to take it off my head. I just plodded on. I’m sure if I’d have fallen in the canal it would have actually woken me up. I didn’t fall in the canal by the way...

Woooo! Daylight... Phewww.

“The morning always has a way of creeping up on me and peeking in my bedroom windows. The sunrise is such a pervert.” - Jarod Kintz

I cannot and never can describe that feeling of making it through a tough night section and into the light. It is such a great feeling. It’s a new day and you’ve covered a big chunk of distance. Actually, the Sunday morning seemed pretty darn chilly. There was this harsh misty chill in the air and it seemed colder than it had done during the night section. But it made me run and move faster and it woke me up. And, I didn’t care too much about the chill. I was out of the darkness and that was the main thing.

Before I knew it, we were approaching 84ish miles...at least, I think that’s what this CP mileage was. I was so happy to see those orange lights in the distance, signalling this CP and the daylight had newly energised me. We arrived here at around 4.15am and the CP didn’t close until 7am. I was chuffed. Even though I had been mega slow throughout the night section, we had made up some time. And just as the sensible part of my mind had thought might happen, we started to come across other runners and crews and people we hadn’t seen for over 80 miles. Suddenly, slow and steady didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

Just pain. Ouch.

“Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school intelligence and make it a soul?” - John Keats

As time ticked away and we moved further forward and past that 100 mile marker, my feet really, really started to hurt. Really hurt. I mean, I think I have quite a good pain threshold, but I just don’t know. I guess it is difficult to measure. I’ve never been in hospital for anything and I guess I’m lucky in the many ways – I’ve never really had to confront serious pain. But, in these moments I was really getting up close and personal with pain. The uneven towpaths and gravel and stony tracks had tenderised my feet. I could feel every little bump and every little stone or bit of grit. I was literally clenching my teeth and making weird ‘breathing-through-the-pain’ faces. My feet were too far gone to be helped by any medication. All I could do for myself was keep putting one foot in front of the other in hope of getting this thing over with sooner rather than later. Then, just after 120 miles, I felt a sharp pain on the sole of my foot between my big toe and my second toe. This was in exactly the same place that I had gotten a blister on the Thames Path 100 miler in March. Sure enough, a rough patch of sharp gravel path had caused my blister to burst. Now, I’ve had blisters before, but this was incredibly painful. I sat down on a bench to examine my feet and momentarily relieve them. I also inspected my heels. I had a huge blister on each heel. Each blister was about the size of a 2 Pence coin. I rummaged around my waist pack for something sharp to burst them with. I don’t care that you're not supposed to burst them; they needed draining as the pressure was quite irritating due to their size. To my dismay I didn’t have anything sharp enough to burst them with and the skin on my heels was too thick. I’d need to wait until I caught up with my crew further down the canal. So, all I do was get up and carry on.

Fortunately, my crew weren’t that much further along and Sarah had some sterile needles. I was able to drain the blisters and patch up the most painful one on the sole of my foot. I was definitely ill-prepared for blistered feet and how to tape feet. I never tape my feet, because I rarely get blisters. On the GUCR 2012, I finished the race with one relatively small blister on my little toe and just very sore feet. Now in 2013 I had blisters to my heels and on the sole. I was blaming Thames Path. I think I’m a little right. The most painful blister was in exactly the same spot and the skin looked a bit aggravated, so I’m calling it a reoccurring blister.

The upsides of foot pain? Well, it certainly made me run faster. I set myself little goals and told myself to run to certain narrow boats or trees or bridges. In fact, I was able to run much more than I had a few hours previously. I had to get the job done. Walking had become too painful because the act of walking was putting too much pressure on the sole of my foot, with my foot being in more prolonged contact with the ground. When I ran, the mileage flew by ‘quickly’ and there was less pressure on my feet.

The End is Nigh...

“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” -  Neil Gaiman

It’s sort of crazy isn’t it?! I think that sums up the level of my thoughts in the latter stages. Yet, I was now feeling more optimistic and actually pretty emotional. I was starting to feel myself getting all teary eyed. My mobile phone had run out of battery before the darkness had set in and I hadn’t had contact with George or the outside world since Saturday evening and it was now well into Sunday evening. It makes you feel a bit cut-off from everyone & like you're in this little bubble & at the same time there is so much going on that you just want to share with everyone. However, my crew had told me that my dad had been in contact via the ‘crew contact no. sheet’. 

It was reassuring to get well wishes from the outside world. At this point I was getting so emotional because I had thought about reaching CP Mile 133 during every tough bit I had encountered, especially during the night section. Getting to this point would mean I had made all the cut-offs and reached the last official CP and also, I’d get to have a huge hug off George. These thoughts had meant so much to me throughout the entirety of the race. Turning left at Bulls Bridge Junction and onto the Paddington arm of the canal we neared ever closer to this goal. It was nearing the last CP that I started to ‘see a few things’. I thought trees and bushes were people. Just the usual visions really. Then, finally I saw who I thought was George and I wasn’t imagining him! It was him and I was so relieved and happy.

Ultimately, the last bits were filled with super highs and tough lows. Highs included the kindness of strangers. Some men on a barge clapped me, which nearly brought me to tears. I heard a father tell his kids that ‘Next time you complain about going for a walk, these people have come all the way from Birmingham’. Some guys that were fishing had a nice chat with us and offered us some beer. It was all heart-warming stuff. Also, the hallucinations were quite entertaining...just faces and heads and people and things... Lows included the increasing foot pain. I had to keep stopping to itch and relieve my feet. Every mile was really dragging and the last 13 miles were the longest of my life. I kept thinking we were further ahead than we were and we weren’t. It seemed like we should only have 3 miles left, but there were 6 miles left to go. But eventually, persistent forward motion led me to familiar territory and I knew for certain that we only had a few miles left – I recognised the towpath from last year. And there was George again. And smiles and I was able to run. And somehow I had made it and was able to sprint across that finish line in 43:13:00

Any other thoughts?

Too many. I think too much, pretty much all of the time. I think the most important thing to mention is that my crew were just incredible. Sarah and Ross deserve a medal. They were sleep deprived and super organised and just awesome. I owe so much to them and can never repay them for their kindness and dedication. A huge congrats to Jon – I knew you could and would do it and I’m so happy that you did and got that well deserved mega-medal-bling.

I told myself in the last 10 miles of this that I wouldn’t want to do this next year. I’ve now completed the GUCR twice and I felt certain I wouldn’t be tempted to want to enter the ballot for next year’s race. But. That. Was. A. Lie. Do I want a triple finish? You betcha! In the meantime, I am having a bit of a GUCR comedown and I’m in serious need of some big adventure or grand plan. All suggestions welcomed...

Windermere Marathon / At least the GUCR is flat...

I started having dreams about the GUCR the other night. I was dressed as some kind of superhero in a weird electric blue leotard! And another runner lady was like ‘I can’t believe how young you look for being in your late 30s’ and I was like ‘I’m not, I’m only 26’, it was really weird.

So, Sunday was my 14th time around the lake at the Brathay Windermere Marathon and I was so happy to get back to the Lakes for the weekend. It was 4 years to the day since my first marathon and as I always say, this marathon is really special to me and all of the memories I’ve made there always come flooding back. I can’t believe 2 years have passed since my own 10in10 and sometimes I forget I really did it. And I couldn’t find my 10in10 hoodie, so I kinda’ felt like I hadn’t haha!

As I ran around Windermere, I kept thinking that at least the GUCR is flat. And another common thought was how I don’t know how I did the 10in10 because all these hills that I forget about always pop up and then suddenly all recollections come flooding back and then I start to become hypersensitive to the smallest incline. I do love this marathon though.

Having arrived in the Lakes on Saturday, we did a loop of the course on Saturday in the car and stopped at Newby Bridge. I had a little real ale and waited for some TITs to run past. Everyone looked in great shape and it was lovely to see them all on their Day 9. For the rest of Saturday, I seem to have carb loaded quite a lot on various ales and a little Guinness. Later, we went for some tea with Davey and Lesley and then some more ale...and then some water.

Sunday was a little overcast, but much better behaved than the weather on Saturday, which was pouring down as we were driving up.

All in all, I had a lovely time running one of my favourite marathons. There were also some nice supporters out on route. One particular spectator who stood out was this lady who appeared at Mile 12, who was enthusiastically screaming: ‘Wooo, keep going...this road has nothing on you and you can beat it, do it like you mean it’. To my amusement and delight, she popped up again at Mile 25 and we recognised each other from earlier on, which caused a lot of giggles from the guy that was with her. I love little memorable funny things like that.

Of course, at the back of my mind was the thought that the GUCR was now less than a week away. I think there was a 2 week gap between last year’s Windermere marathon and the GUCR. And I feel compelled to do Windermere because it’s where it all started, and I just love it.

So, with only five days to 'taper' / not do anything much and relax the muscles, I was a little worried. In actuality, I like to think that I am pretty good on the recovery front. I think I’m pretty good at recovering after events and going onto the next one. On Sunday and Monday I felt so achy and seemed to have a lot of DOMS. Obviously this was down to the hills, but I can’t help but think that it was made worse by my mind working overtime and focusing so much on any little ache. However, I’ve had a few cold baths this week and I’m happy to report that I’m feeling very excited for this.



So, I am going to go packing and getting my kit together and do some ultra-food shopping. The food shop is the best bit. Where else do you get to think things like ‘Oooh darn it, those just don’t have enough calories in them...’?

And I distinctly heard the weather lady say, this morning that it was largely going to be fine and dry at the weekend, with maybe a chance of showers, but pretty much alright. I didn’t once hear the words torrential downpour or monsoon, which is what the weather was like last year. However, part of me will miss the bin bag action.... I shall pack some just in case!

Note: As I finish writing this, the heavens have just opened...however, we are in the North West, so fingers crossed!

The madness countdown

The craziness is fast approaching in the form of the GUCR 145 miler. It seemed so far away for so long and now it’s this week! Eeeeek. The countdown is on. I am so excited by this. I feel like a kid at Christmas. It’s going to be an awesome weekend filled with amazing people, with all sorts of exciting stories and adventure and mega amounts of food. Other than the sore feet, I am really psyched up for this. And this year I will be running for an absolutely fantastic charity, Hospice of the Good Shepherd. My justgiving page is @  http://www.justgiving.com/lizogicalGUCR I think if any charity deserves money and support, it is these guys, because I have seen the amazing work that they do and hopefully no one out there will have to encounter their work first hand, but know that if you ever needed their support, they would be there for you in every way.

  

Your mind’s different on a 100+ miler or long ultra. You can train all you want and get as fit as possible (just my opinion), but if your mind’s not in the game and doesn’t want to play then there’s really not a lot of point. Maybe that’s my excuse for being lazy with my training? Perhaps. I know I could be far more disciplined and be much better than I am. And there screams the voice, ‘why aren’t you blummin' well doing that then? Stop being so lazy!’ And I could. I could stop being so lazy. But, truth be told, I’m not, and really never have been one of those runners who gets up at a ridiculous hour of the morning to train. Sure, I’ve gotten up at 3am before, on more than one occasion whilst trying to get to my 100^th marathon, driven down the length of the country, ran maybe a small ultra, 40 miler or so and driven back home. I’ve done it. But it was the lure of the race and the event that made me do it. It doesn’t come naturally. I’d much rather run at night in the dark. Sure, there are days when I can’t be bothered to run at all and wish I’d gotten up at some ungodly hour to go run, but I’m too fond of my snooze button.

Yet, funnily enough, when I’m running through the night at this weekend's GUCR 145 miler, I will be longing for that sunrise and for that early morning daylight. It’s the only time I really get to see it, because I’m actually up ;-) and I love that; you’ve made it through the night...well, until the next night...depends on how slow I am...hopefully a little faster than last year, but who can tell?!

XNRG's The Pony Express report & ramble

“Curiouser and curiouser.” ― Lewis Carroll

Wow, that weekend absolutely flew by! But, I had such an amazing time. I don’t even know where to start... so I guess I’ll start with Friday. Although, not too much to say about Friday. I granny napped a lot, ate a lot and sweated a lot; the second coach was like a sauna/ would make good heat training...

I guess I travelled a lot & surprised myself that it went so smoothly, since, as usual I seemed to have packed everything and the kitchen sink and I have no idea why or what I had in my huge travelling rucksack, but it weighed a tonne! I made my way down south, way down south to Winchester and a train and two coaches later I arrived.

Earlier in the day, on route to Chester in the morning and on the way to the coach stop, it felt like a bit of a mission with my heavy rucksack and already, it was starting to feel like the beginnings of a warm day. So, I headed to one of the only coffee shops open *cough – Starbucks* and ate lots of food, drank some strong coffee and spread the word about ultras to some inquisitive baristas. Funnily enough, the day before in Chester, whilst in upandrunning, I also had a rather lovely, long conversation with the lady who worked in there about ultras and she actually seemed positive that she might do one in the future, yey!

I only entered XNRG’s Pony Express last Tuesday and I was really excited to do it. It’s been far too long since I’ve done a multi-day ultra and I have really missed it. I guess for those that knew me in 2010/11, during ‘mad-marathon-let’s-get-to-one-hundred’ mode, you’ll know that I used to do a lot of doubles and things, of various combinations. My weekends were never dull and I loved the adventure of seeing new places and having a big catch-up with all the usual suspects (although, my weekends haven’t been dull lately, but only because of a certain someone...) And this was mine and George’s first event together :-) and I met the parents, so lots of exciting things. Although, I was incredibly nervous about all of these exciting things, but everything went lovely *sigh of relief*.

Day 1

Route:

CP 1 - Yew Tree Heath Car park (7.9 miles)

CP 2 – Setley Cross Roads (16.1 miles)

CP 3 – End of Disused Railway (23.5 miles)

Finish – Moyles Court School (30 miles)

I got up really early and tried to organise myself. But, even though I’m not the most enthusiastic morning person in the world, I was excited for this, so I was okay. I still had lots of coffee though :-) and we had coffee in the car when we got to the start and I had my chocolate covered coffee-bean supplier with me ;-) I’m surprised I wasn’t bouncing off the walls. So, after we arrived, which was very on time and early (such a rarity for me, I have to savour it), I picked up my number and registered. I get so used to people calling me Liz, I sometimes forget my full name is Elizabeth, so it’s always amusing when they write Elizabeth on the front of my race number.

So, we were off and I was running at quite a good pace. However, I did feel pretty warm straight away. I’ve never run in the New Forest before and it’s such a novelty to see horses just roaming around everywhere. Although, I must admit that I was a bit scared of the mention of free-range cows and bulls ha-ha.

Reaching CP1, I was so thirsty and so warm. I downed lots of Ribena and filled up my bottle with Ribena. I normally take little bottles of coke with me on these things, but I didn’t this time. Ribena definitely helped though :-) And there was the usual array of haribo, pretzels and little bits of cut-up sandwiches. I also had some brazil nuts which I found really easy to eat and I had a packet of pickled onion space invaders...

When I woke up on Saturday morning it was pretty drizzly, but by this point in the day it was beginning to get quite warm and a little bit sunny.

On both days we ran on a mixture of cycling paths, a bit of road, forest tracks & more rocky and pebbly terrain. I wasn’t so keen on the wider cycling paths or the disused railway line. I really liked the more higgledy-piggledy paths. However, on Day 1, I did go flying whilst navigating my way through some trees/ uneven ground. I stumbled on the uneven rutted ground and then sort of tripped I think. I knew I was going to fall, but I couldn’t stop myself, so I just kind of sprawled my arms out. It was all good though and I only bruised and scratched my knees a little, but nothing major. And I looked like a proper mucky trail runner *roaaar*. It’s not a proper ultra-run without a bit of dirt, right?! I cleaned up my hands in a nice cold stream a little bit further on.

In the last 10 miles the terrain became a little hillier and stonier, so I just walked those and had fun running down them. I also had a close encounter with some rather big cows in the latter stages. I reached a stream and there were three massive cows stood in the middle of the path. I had a bit of a girly scaredy-cat moment and was happy that there were some blokes just ahead of me. I decided the best way past them was to go to the right of the path and jump off a little bit of raised ground into the stream. My feet got rather wet, but it was really refreshing, if not a little bit sloshy.

I wasn’t wearing my Garmin on this, because I need to send it off to get repaired, so I was just wearing my ordinary sports watch. However, I wasn’t too concerned with time and after having fallen over in the first bit, I was very conscious of not injuring myself for the GUCR which is fast approaching. 

Therefore, because I was guesstimating where I was and how far away the finish was, it was a really nice surprise to see an XNRG sign out of the blue...and even nicer that we ran past a little stream and an ice cream van up the road to the finish (this would later prove a nice recovery ice-cream)! Running into the finish, it was lovely to see super-George, who ran awesome and had finished some time ago. I managed to scrape into the finish, just under the six hour mark, which I was pretty happy with considering I wasn’t really trying, well, considering I was just trying not to get injured! In fact, I think that might be a 30mile PB for me; not fast, but nice.

Afterwards, I had a rather lovely shower, got changed and me and George wandered down to the lovely cold stream and got a 99 ice cream with a flake and I had an ice-bath paddle in the stream with a king Charles spaniel. Speaking of doggies, there was this lovely little black springer spaniel wearing blue goggles that was there all weekend with its runner owners...I think it had some sort of sensitivity to UV light, and she was such a gorgeous little dog...we nicknamed her ‘doggles’ :-)

Day 2

Route:

CP 1 – Cadman’s Pool Car Park (10.7 miles)

CP 2 – Woods Corner (16.7 miles)

CP 3 – Wilverley Plain (21.7 miles)

Finish – Brockenhurst (30 miles)

I woke up in a bit of a grumpy, sleepy mood. I know these events are notorious for snoring runner blokes, so I had brought my ear plugs with me, but nothing would drown out the snoring. And there was a particularly loud snorer sleeping near to us. I don’t know what it is about snoring. I think I can sleep pretty well in a lot of different places and it doesn’t have to be a really quiet place either. However, snoring just really grates on me. I think it has something to do with the fact that they’re blissfully asleep and dreaming away, but because of them I am not...it’s sort of mean haha. Okay, I’ll put my soapbox away now...

I was pretty hungry and off to breakfast we went. I have to say, it was a pretty amazing breakfast with lots of bacon, sausages and hash browns. However, I don’t think I left enough time to digest it properly, even though I really needed it, because my stomach was majorly rumbling. As such, I felt pretty uncomfortable and had some bad indigestion for around the first 10 miles of Day 2. This made me feel pretty sluggish and rubbish and I definitely found it hard to get going.

It was very warm on Sunday. It was proper tan line weather and I now have some awesomely silly tan lines to show for this ;-) It also struck me just how amazing the landscape was on Day 2. It was lovely on the Saturday, but on Sunday I felt like I was in Jurassic park or something (minus the dinosaur’s ha-ha). The landscape was so vast, with random horses and cows roaming about and because it was such a toasty day, with sandy, stony paths, it almost felt like I wasn’t in England at all, but it some far away land.

I felt a little isolated on Day 2. I started at 8am, a lot of people had started at 7am and all the super speedy runners (George) who eventually overtook me, all started at 9am. So, I really didn’t see many people. I overtook some of the earlier ones a couple of hours in, then the speedsters overtook and then I was pretty much on my own. At some points, it was nice to see others because even though the route instructions were absolutely spot-on, there were a couple of points on Sunday that I was unsure of. 

There was one point after CP2 where we had to cross this huge plain of grass at a certain angle in order to pick up the red and white tape and other markings, before taking one of the paths up ahead. However, there was absolutely no-one around at this point and I started to doubt that I was going the correct way. I even started speaking to myself, like the crazy mad person I am sometimes... I looked around me and I couldn’t see anyone down any of the other paths, so I kept moving forwards on the track I was on. It was actually quite funny thinking about it. By this point it was really, really hot and I could feel the back on my legs starting to burn, along with my shoulders and neck. Fortunately, I was on the right track and as I looked on the floor to my right, I saw a fluorescent green arrow and mouthed ‘yes!’ to myself! And onwards I went.

In the last 10 miles, it didn’t feel so isolated because there were so many families out and about. It was such a lovely day and there were people cycling about everywhere. This was both a good and a bad thing. It certainly kept me on my toes, but I was constantly dodging bikes and little children. Also, I was feeling a bit paranoid over how I looked, since the day before I had run past a toddler who asked her mum, rather loudly: ‘Mummy, was that a man?’ I can see the funny side :-), but I was also thinking ‘Omg, I must look like shit!’ So, every time I ran past a little child on Sunday, I kept anticipating ‘man comments’. And I’m pretty sure I looked more man-ish on Sunday, since it was so hot, I was a bit frazzled, sleepy and dehydrated.

In the last two miles, I came across another runner who funnily enough had ‘saved’ me form a big crowd on horses at the beginning of the day. This was nice, because like the confusing bit after the last CP, we had to run at a certain angle through a big plain of grass and it took me a while to pick up route markings. It wasn’t long until we picked up the final markers and just one road crossing later; we were running towards that finish line! Yey!

It was so lovely to finish, but now I wish I was out there again. I’ve definitely gotten the bug back. I love this. And George ran so amazingly well, but I’m not surprised he did – he’s a brilliant runner. Overall, he finished 4^th and 3^rd male and I’m really proud of him.

Afterwards, it was so nice to get back and have a lovely shower and de-man-ify! And then we went out and had a lovely meal, with lots of recovery Guinness of course!

Overall, I had an awesome weekend, with lovely crazy runner people. Another brilliant event from XNRG. So, now I’ve done all of their multi-stage ultras, well, apart from their new Cotswold’s Way ultra, but we’ll see, next year...

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...