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From 2016 the blog has moved to.. http://rcranswick.wix.com/blog

WTF happened? How Not To Run The UTMB

It was meant to be a jog in the mountains. Piece of piss. I even toyed with the idea of a comedy costume. So what led me to dropping out barely 10 miles in? Why the withdrawal from the rest of the year’s races? It’s taken a while to work it out.

I’d been on a sloth & kebab diet after the Thames Ring, but I thought I could hoof it round on basic fitness. I even treated myself to a campsite with showers and everything.  After the TR I was on a high and low. High that I’d managed to get a podium place, and low that hammering out a 4 day race left me mentally drained. While the feet and muscles healed pretty quickly, the headology batteries were just flat.

On the day I got the kit together and wandered over to the iconic start/finish where I met a bunch of familiar faces, we shot the breeze and cooked slowly as we waited for 200 decibels from an iconic Greek composer. Thanks. I knew I was at the wrong start line. Headology fail once again. Then we set off and the crowds were amazing. Craning for a view with cameras and phones capturing the moment all the way down, funneling the runners into an ever smaller gap. I felt a little like the new steer at the rodeo. They even had a helicopter overhead for the Australians.

Eventually we broke out of the Cham Corral and made off for the hills, hitting the first ascent pretty gently. Poles were out and a lot of hiking and sweating ensued then over the top and on to my nemesis – the descent. I made like the sugar plum fairy and tip-toed down while the less reckless and less scared hammered past on both sides. It was so much fun I stopped half-way down as we passed a couple of farmhouses and asked if they had any beer. They didn’t, so onwards and downwards it was.

As the race had started at 6pm it quickly started to get dark as we entered a patch of woodland and I clicked on the torch. As more people skipped past in the gloom I decided to take to the side of the path to save them from having to jostle past like a big-city marathon until eventually we got to a patch of road where I could run without shoulder-barges and could hear cheering and music from the town below.

Entering the first checkpoint I was 1:15 under the cut-off, but I just didn’t want to do it any more. I did a comedy sprint and dip for the line, then went and sat out of the way watching people go past. Runners were struggling through for their A race of the year and I was sitting watching them.  Surreal really. I’d just switched off from wanting to run any more. I'd reached that Forest Gump moment.

I walked over to the timekeepers and told them I wanted to quit, found the bus back to Cham and hit the bars pretty hard the next day. For anyone that was around then, I apologise. So with a bail, a hangover and a few brief ‘had to be done’ conversations at the campsite, I took myself off home and withdrew from the ultra scene for a bit.

So if fishing for shrimp is out, what do you do next? Well I have a hankering for the sub-continent and Nepal seems to be the perfect fit, and given that I have a contract break in Nov it’s perfect weather for getting mountains out of the system. I might have the chance of some charity stuff too, what’s not to like.

So next, Nepal.. then.. ?

NDW100 - Richard's Blog

Hi.

This is my (ghost written) blog about the fun times I had on the North Downs Way this weekend.

Richard G

First, let me say that it was fantastically organised by the Centurian crew, and James, Nici, Gary, and the rest of the wacky crowd kept us entertained doing impressions, mimes and making balloon figures until it was time to go and play outside. The only thing that was missing was the clown, but someone said he'd double-booked as a sheep and was getting mild heat-stroke somewhere else.

The race was pretty awesome and had some hills. I set out strong and managed to keep the pace going, despite the heat.

I recently wrote:"I'm not generally one for posting up my race results but I am rather pleased at finishing 36th in the NDW 100 miler (actually 103 miles) in a time of 23:16. Thanks to Katherine for supporting me through the night." ..and I am pleased. It's a tough old course. In comparison another Richard ran the Thames Path 100 in about the same time and was in the 70s. Both in clothing style and position.

After Claire congratulated me on holding on to my position throughout the race I mentioned that "It was tough from beginning to end but physically I held it together until the last 14 where I had to slog it out."

Post-race I was feeling the usual downs..  "The result is worth it but at the moment I'm not sure I want to put myself through that again. Thanks for the support [Claire] - it really made a difference."

But now as the aches and pains are subsiding, I'm very happy to have run well, and to not have to write my own blog.

See you soon, and thanks to all the fantastic volunteers that helped and supported on the run.

Love and hugs,
Richiekins.

Thames Ring Double - Part Deux

Wednesday 24th - Saturday 27th June 2015                                             (Part 1 here)

Same B&B, same room, same bed. The alarm woke me at 5am and I had a Groundhog Day moment. I had to face the same challenge as Saturday, but this time I knew the way out of this cycle. I had to complete the race.

After my now traditional full English with toast, coffee, muesli and fresh blueberries I packed up my race vest and snack pouch and made my way to registration. Everything had been put together to allow me to move forward at all times. Eat and run. Constant forward motion and all that.

As I entered the hall I said hello to several familiar faces, and picked a seat next to Brian Robb, a fellow Bristolian who I'd met at several events recently. We discussed our approaches to the race and it became apparent I was the tortoise to his hare, though I do prefer to go slow and use the cut-offs to pace myself (something which I hadn't done on leg 1 and paid for dearly).

Maillot jaune

Lindley gave a briefing to the assembled crowd, presented medals to Javed and Ernie and we made our way to the start. Some of the elite runners already had their chauffeur ready, but I was happy to walk, as one extra mile wasn't going to make any difference. We lined up just off the side of the bridge and then had to move as an aged driver attempted to mow us down at 2mph. Luckily an accident was avoided and we set off along the river and over the fields once again.

The run in to CP1 was very much like the first day, though the temperature and humidity were higher and I found I was out of water by Reading (11 miles). I made a mental note to fill up my bottles at every opportunity and also drink 500ml before moving on as I tend to perspire freely and didn't want to end up dehydrated. I'd also switched from peanuts to cashews for their slightly sweeter taste, but ensured that they were salted which made sure I was replacing the salt removed through sweating.

I passed CP1 in 5:16 at an average 5.2mph and realised from a Facebook comment by Zoe that once again I'd gone off too quick, so decided to walk the next section to Chertsey which I did with Bob Wild and Dave Fawkner. Dave was having trouble eating due to D&V through the night, and was looking for somewhere on the route where he could get pizza as Bob had already ordered a delivery to the Chertsey CP. I grabbed 2L milk and a couple of packs of sandwiches from a shop at Windsor and pressed on.

At CP2 Bob had ordered an additional pepperami pizza which he shared around the group of runners. Exceptionally kind and it was gratefully consumed to fuel the next night-time stage. Kate Hayden had reached the CP ahead of me and had been having problems with vomiting throughout the day but was keen to press on, so I quickly packed up my drop bags and joined her for the long trek through London and on to the next CP at Yiewsley.

Kate is an exceptionally tough runner, and held a special position as the only British woman to finish the race. We hiked out an impressive 3.5-4mph though as the night progressed we were having to take more and longer breaks as she vomited what little water and food she'd managed to consume over the last 30 minutes. I was becoming increasingly worried and it was lucky that Javed caught up with us, as he knows Kate's condition well. He talked to Kate and made sure she sipped at her water, while I carried her backpack to give her some relief from the weight and constriction.

We carried on this way for a couple of hours and she did seem to improve, even breaking out into a run at points, though it all ground to a halt at Hampton Court as she rapidly deteriorated. We decided to call Lindley and meet him further up to get his opinion on her condition, and so walked slowly to Kingston Bridge. I'd like to say a huge thank-you to every runner that met us during that time, as every single one stopped and offered help. Luckily Javed and I had things under control and were able to get to the meting point without any further incident.

It must have been fate or something in the air, as just on the other side of the bridge Knut Kronstad had collapsed and was in convulsions. As we'd already called Lindley we directed him to the other side as Knut's condition was far worse and with 30 mins of rest and warming up Kate had improved considerably. Lindley took Knut off to the CP and we agreed that Javed and I would look after Kate and keep going so long as she continued to improve.

Unfortunately this wasn't the case and around an hour later Kate was vomiting and close to passing out. Again I called Lindley and we sat on a bench with Kate laid across our laps and a foil blanket over her. He arrived after around 45 minutes and pretty much carried Kate to the van, saying that he'd take her to Berkhamstead and we could meet her there (as we were both very concerned about her condition).

So now we were possibly last in the race, but neither of us were tired and we'd benefited from several hours rest, so we ran. And talked. Lots. We talked about running, about life, about our families, about dancing and about the Force. I listened and I learned. We ran through the night and through the next day, making up perhaps a dozen places, our feet dancing out many steps to many tunes.

After a while I started to slow. We had been running with Phil Smith and David Allan and had also caught up with Chris Edmonds, but the pace was beginning to tell on all of us, so we switched to walking while Javed continued ahead. By now we'd made CP7 and were all exhausted, so we took 2 hours to sleep and woke at 1am with 1 hour left on the cut-off. We packed up, had a meal of potatoes, beans and sausage and headed off into the dark once again. 

I was feeling increasingly weary and struggled to keep up with the group. I had to concentrate hard on keeping my walking pace high and I was constantly dropping off the back and having to jog to keep up. Chris soon joined me and we split into two as Phil and David marched on ahead, always keeping the pace high and pushing on. Through the morning Chris pulled away from me too and now that I was alone I was walking slower and slower. I took a break on the shaded side of a bridge and started to think. I thought about the pain I was getting from a few blisters, about how much further I had to go, and then I though about dancing.

Javed had explained to me that when things get tough, imagine you're not running but dancing with the person you'd most like to dance with in the world. Waltz, Tango, Maddison, it doesn't matter, but the act of converting the slog of getting from A to B into the joy of dancing changes your whole take on what's happening. I changed my Hokas into ballroom shoes and I started to dance.

And it was superb.

I caught up with Chris just before CP8 and I was grinning like a cheshire cat. 

"Chris. I've got a mad plan. We're going to run it in from here. If we make it by closing time I'll buy you a pint".

"OK, let's do it"

Sprinting out of CP8 (Tim Mitchell)

So we set off at a flat out sprint. I'd told Tim we were going for it and as he'd seen me sprinting in to Nether Heyford with Peter Bengtsson (England 1 - Sweden 0) he took a picture of the start.

Shortly after I screamed, jumped in the air and hit the floor. It felt as though I'd been shot in the foot. A series of blisters under my toes had all ripped together and burst, making one long raw wound on the ball of my foot. I patched it up tightly with gauze and tape and started to hobble on, but with the blisters gone, the pain had eased and I found I could run again shortly after.

Then it was Chris' turn. He'd been overheating as we ran and eventually had to slow to a walk, so it was just me and the last 40 miles. I had plenty of water, food and energy, and no reason not to run it in, so I kept running.

As I passed Phil and David saying Hi as I went, then a couple of others who were also walking, I started to work out the pace difference. Depending on how far other runners were ahead I thought I was probably running at double their pace, so long as they were within 20 miles, I could catch them. I checked the tracker and was amazed to find that all but the front 2 guys were within range, so that was my mission. 4th place.

I also had an ace card to play. Due to the time we had lost looking after Kate, Lindley had given me and Javed 2 hours credit. Meaning that as long as I finished less than 2 hours after another competitor, I would have beaten them on time. Afterburners on. Time to fly.

My average pace from CP8-9 was 3.8 mph. I didn't catch any more runners but I got closer to those ahead. Not wanting to waste any time I grabbed some fruit from the last CP and pretty much sprinted away. #5 was in my sights and I was closing in. I passed Ellen Cottom about 4 miles from the CP and again said hello, then chased down Anne Green, catching her 5 miles out from the finish.

I'd realised the leaders Andy Horsley and Pete Summers seemed to be walking, as they had left CP9 at midday and hadn't finished when I checked at 5pm. I began to have thoughts about catching them close to Goring and upped the pace again, diving through gullies and pushing on across the fields, I was now averaging 4.4mph. It doesn't sound a lot now but I felt like Usain Bolt compared to my previous sub-2mph walking pace.

As I approached Goring I checked the tracker and saw that the leaders had sped up and crossed the line, so I slowed. Their finish time meant that I had 90 minutes to cover the last mile. I jogged it in with Ian Thomas and gratefully accepted the half-ton finishers medal from Lindley. It was all over, and after nearly not starting the race I'd finished joint second.

Glyn "guardian angel" Raymen handed me a cold can of lager and I finally relaxed after 420 miles on an emotional roller-coaster. Job done.

If it wasn't for the herculean efforts of Lindley and Maxine in putting on this event, the support from Keith Godden, Debbie Gibbins, Glynn Ramen, Jon Gillott, Rich McChesney, Paul Reader, Zoe Thornburgh and all the exceptional volunteers at the CPs, I'd just have been sitting in my pants watching TV and drinking beer, so thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to spend a week seeing it it was possible to do the double. It wasn't for me, but it was for Javed. 

He's superhuman.








And so is Karen Hathaway who won by 12 hours !









See you all in 2017 for more dancing.

Rich.

Thames Ring Double - Part 1

Saturday 20th - Tuesday 23rd June 2015

5am Saturday morning and the alarm dragged me from sleep. I had already checked, re-checked and packed my kit so all that was left was to tape the toes and drag my bags to the start at Goring Village Hall where I met Lindley, Maxine, Keith Godden, Martin Pether, Debbie Gibbins and my fellow doublers Ernie Jewson and Javed Bhatti.

 

Three Amigos - Ernie, Rich & Javed

We took few photos, wished each other luck and at 6am started lap 1 heading out along the Thames towards London. The weather was perfect and we made good time, reaching Reading around 8am (too early for parkrun though I had brought my barcode just in case).  As we got back out to the fields I was aware that I needed to maintain a 5.3mph average and so pulled away from the others as I was sticking to “the plan” to meet my night-time kit drops. Javed was running unsupported with just a credit card, a smile and the Force to see him through, whilst Ernie was being supported by Debbie. So 3 runners and 3 very different plans. It would be interesting to see which would prove the most effective.

Keeping the pace comfortable, I met Debbie at CP1 (Hurley 27.3 mi) after around 5 hours of running. She’d been following on the tracker and got there early to be able to provide me with food and water, which was very much appreciated as my original plan of using shops and stores to restock would have taken away valuable running time as I’d have to go some way off the track to find them. At this stage Ernie was about 10 mins behind me and Javed 7 mins behind him, so all fairly close.

The stage from CP1-2 went by fairly uneventfully and at CP2 (Chertsey 55.1mi) Jon Gillott, Rich McChesney & Paul Reader were waiting for me with pizza, sandwiches, coke and fresh coffee. This was definitely a high-caffeine day. I was on target for “the plan” with 11:19 for the first 55 miles, though was now just starting to feel the effects.

I put on a base layer as it was starting to get colder as I crossed Sion Park and joined the Grand Union Canal for my trip up north. I’d been able to fill up with water pretty much when I needed it, though was carrying a lifestraw in case of emergency as one of my concerns was a lack of water taps. I’d also been a bit nervous of the London sections after Javed told me about a couple of runners who were mugged in 2009, so kept my senses about me as I ran and jumped a couple of times as animals rustled the bushes or ran across the path.

Further on up the very boring lower sections of the GUC, I met Nina Smith at CP3 (Yiewsley 82mi) who’d waited on a dodgy canal bridge for hours with food & water. I took a brief rest in her car and then moved on with an Ikea bag full of goodies which I planned to have as a midnight feast before sleep

I’d stashed my kit behind a hedge at bridge 191 and thankfully it was still there. As I retrieved my kit two young lads walked towards me. It was past midnight and I’d taken off my backpack so was just dressed in black baselayer & leggings and on the ground were a series of large torso and limb sized objects wrapped in black plastic. They yelped and ran off back down the path. No idea why.

No Free Beer for me (pic by Keith Godden)

After my first night’s sleep (where both Javed and Ernie passed me), I realised the race was going to be more about my mental condition than physical. I was going fairly strong, and knew I could stick to the 60-mile days as planned  but the huge blocks of sleep were eating into my running time and I wasn’t speeding up after the rest as I’d expected. The problem I had was that I relied on my kit-drops which were at fixed locations, so I had no chance to change the schedule. I’d made my plans and had to stick to them.

I met Keith at CP4 (Berkhampstead 106mi) and by now I was walking at about 4mph. The pub had a “Free Beer” poster but I’d decided that beer was out of the picture for the race, so I had to decline. This was the one picture on the whole run that I looked sad, and for good reason.

At CP5 (Milton Keynes 130mi) I met Glyn Ramen who provided a superstar lunch of hot hotdogs and relish, pot noodles, deserts, coke and pretty much everything you could ever want to eat on an ultra.

Lindley 21-Jun 9am “All three amigos have left Milton Keynes a while ago all in good shape. Heading towards nether heyford with cut off there at 156miles of 11am I think. That allows for more rest time before pushing out the last 100. All well on target for 80 hour finishes which will give them time for a good rest before repeating.”

It was shortly after MK that the wheels started to come off. “The plan” called for me to cover the 18 miles to Blisworth at 4mph, a speed which I’d averaged all day, though the fast first 50 miles were beginning to tell on me as was the tiredness. I was finding it hard to stay awake and my pace was dropping steadily. The section from Navigation Bridge to Stoke Bruerne saw me staggering around like a Saturday night drunk. Around 1am I sent a text to Lindley to say I was sleeping for a few hours and curled up on the ground only to shiver myself awake 40 minutes later and feeling no better.

As I wandered around Stoke Bruerne a car pulled up and I was very glad to see the concerned face of Keith Godden who had seen me stop in the middle of nowhere and had come to check up on me. I could barely string a sentence together but he must have seen I had enough wherewithal to get myself to Blisworth and so he pointed me in the right direction and off I stumbled.

When I finally crawled into my tent I was 3 hours behind schedule and a physical and mental wreck. I just wrapped my sleeping bag around me and fell off the cliff of consciousness into the welcoming pool of sleep, but all too soon my alarm dragged me back to the race after 4 hours of sleep. I stashed my overnight kit and started hiking out. A few minutes later I had a call from Keith reminding me that I had to get moving as I was close to the cut off for Nether Heyford. Not only was he supporting Javed but also providing alarm calls and checking up on me, for which I’m very grateful. (Going through the Facebook photos I realise he even walked down the trail from Blisworth to check I was OK while I was asleep as he took a picture of my tent – he really did go above & beyond looking after us on the first lap).

Lindley 22-Jun 10:30am “All three amigos still moving well. Javed still on for 80 plus hours and heading towards Fenny Compton well inside cut offs. Ernie cracking on well too and moving ok not too far behind javed. Rich a little slower bringing up the rear after another good sleep and a small wobble but cracking out the miles again and moving better.”

I only had 90 minutes to spare at where I’d planned to have over 3h in hand, and the previous night’s sleep-addled zombie march left me with very little left in the mental bank. Zoe was out at Fenny Compton to meet me, but I’d not managed to shake the apathy that had set in the previous night and as I joined the Oxford Canal things got worse.

My head got the better of me and I intentionally started walking slowly and taking breaks in an attempt to be timed out before I got to the next CP. I sat under bridges and tried to work out a plan.. My feet were too blistered. The old knee injury was playing up. I’d been in a to-the-death fight with a hyper-aggressive duck. But none of it washed. I was just fed up and my heart wasn’t in it. I called Lori (The Mrs) and told her that I wasn’t having fun anymore and that I was going to come home. Her response was to ask what I wanted for tea. Normality. That was what I needed. Just a small slice of the real world.

I asked a few guys on a barge if there was a decent pub nearby and after 170 miles of canal I hiked along a local A-road to the village, only to find the pub was shut. So after stocking up with pasties and drinks I planned a bus/train route home and called in my DNF to Lindley and Keith and told Lindley I’d come to pick up my bags on Weds and see the race proper start. I also let Zoe know I wouldn’t be coming through and she very kindly offered to drive me to Cheltenham to get a train from there. I was in fairly good spirits as we drove, as I never berate myself on my decisions. I’d given it enough thought and I was quitting.

Once I got home I showered, filled my face with chinese takeaway and fell asleep in front of my laptop watching the tracker with half a beer in my hand. That was it. I was out of the race and could relax and watch this and the main event unfold online.

The next day (Tuesday) I woke up before Lori and walked downstairs for a coffee, then realised I’d just walked stairs without any aches or pains. I’d quit because I’d given up mentally. Physically there wasn’t a thing wrong with me. So I sent a text to Lindley:

“Hi mate. Sorry to be a bloody drama queen yesterday. There’s nothing wrong with me that a few MTFU pills won’t sort out, so can I muck you around again and get my main tracker back online? I fancy going for round 2”

When Lori woke I was bundling my kit into the washing machine and booking train tickets back to Goring. I told her my plans and she didn’t seem surprised. She's used to the way my mind works, and she's promised she'll explain it to me one day.

Lindley 23-Jun 7am.” Javed Bhatti is about an hour out from the final CP at Abingdon. With about 20+ miles to go.
Ernie is a couple of hours behind him and Rich Cranswick has been home and had a plate full of man up pills for tea and has decided to start the main race again.
See you all in the morning.
Lindley”

 

Javed finishing lap 1

Once I’d got back in to Goring I wandered down to meet Keith and a few others who were waiting by the Village Hall for Javed to complete his first lap in 81:03. With all the pictures and handshakes complete, we retired to the Miller for a few pre-race beers and then to the Swan to meet Javed for dinner before we all retired to prepare for the next day.

Ernie on his way back to Goring

We'd been following Ernie on the tracker and Debbie had been with us at the Miller. He was progressing very slowly due to injuries and though he'd complete the first lap, it wasn't looking good for lap 2. I met them on the bridge after Ernie completed (taking 8 hours off his previous best time) and he was wiped out. I wished them both a good night's sleep & recovery and said I'd see them at registration tomorrow.

So that only left Javed with the chance of the double, but it meant I was in the main race, and was feeling strong with a couple of days R&R behind me. The next part was going to be exciting..

Continued here..

The wrong way round - TR250

Ok, so a lot of my peers have questioned the double Thames Ring. I’ll attempt to answer some of those questions here..

Why am I running the main event second?

a) Time. I can only take a week away from work, and starting on Sat fits in nicely as running Weds – Thurs just isn’t possible.

b)  Psychology. Coming in to the finish of the main event, I’m not going to want to grab my medal and run off again. I’m going to want to stop, rest and socialise with the other runners, race support and friends in a nice warm room full of cake.

c)  Assistance. I have no crew, so I’d rather have the supported event on the second loop and have to worry about carrying kit & shopping for supplies while I’m (relatively) fresh.

d)  Support. One of the things that kept me going on the Piece of String in 2013 was the support and encouragement of the W100 runners. When they knew what we were up to they shouted encouragement as they sped past. Some of them even shouted Idiot, which was nice. I’m hoping that at least for the first few miles the main event will give me that same lift. Please feel free to call me Idiot any time you like.

So reasoning out of the way we come to planning, and another area of contention : Sleep.

I will be sleeping during the run. Not actually running and sleeping (though I have done this on occasion and been mildly surprised waking up with a face full of hedge), but actually bivying down for a couple of hours of deep-cycle restorative sleep each day.

It worked well on T184 and combined with the tortoise approach, meant I never felt exhausted at any point in the race. My legs reset each night and when I awoke I was able to run and I had the added benefit that I could think and navigate with a clear head. This really cut down on bonus miles and gave me a better outlook on the race. I’m miserable when I’m tired, and miserable generally leads to me binning the race. Sleep = fresh legs and happy me.

Another area I’d like to cover is respect.

I am a bit of a Tigger character on social media and in life. I’ll bounce into something with no idea what I’m up to and be enthusiastic about anything. I realise it may look like I’ve jumped into a major race with apparent abandon but after a lot of discussion with Lindley, I think I know what I’m doing. I respect this race and the other runners entered. I’m not taking the piss by trying to make it look easy.

I have the utmost respect for anyone who runs not just ultras but parkruns, 10ks or whatever they do. Some may knock out wins in the toughest races out there, some may be trying to break 35 minutes at the local parkrun. I’m not in this for any type of bragging rights or to boost a macho image, and this leads me to the final topic:

Why?

a)  I’m pretty sure I can finish the race if I run slow & steady. I’m not sure I can double it. It may sound strange but I’m not particularly interested in pushing for a time or position, it just doesn’t work for me any more. I had years of that in my other running life and now I like to push the endurance element. The schedule is pretty much what I had planned for JOGLE last year – 60 miles a day. I didn’t get a chance to try that due to injury, but I think I can do it and this looks like a good opportunity to try.

b)  CHSW is a great charity and this gives me an opportunity to do something out of the normal runs & races, and raise some money for them.

c)  500 has a nice ring to it..

TP100 – Clowning Around

Having volunteered for the race last year, I'd got a free place for the Thames Path 2015 and so took a train over to Richmond for some pre-race beers with James, Chris, Nilkki and a few others in a very loud local pub. I always make a point of trying to hydrate well before the race and several rounds of local bitter did the trick.

Around 10pm I wandered off to the local deer park with my trusty hotel in the backpack. I’m so used to wild camping now that I’d already found a spot with Google Earth and after a little pre-race Facebooking, it was off to sleep for a wonderfully comfortable 7 hours in Hotel Gelert.

Either a great sunrise or Richmond is on fire

In the morning I packed up and wandered over to race registration, meeting up with the Centurion stalwarts that have become the core of a very well-run and professional organisation. As usual the safety-pins were in good order.

After very thorough kit check from Gary Kiernan and Allan Rumbles (probably giving me a hard time for being cheeky and asking if a 50p poncho was OK as a waterproof), it was on to pick up my number for the race. By 7:30 I was all done for registration so dropped in to McD for a double double breakfast muffin. I do like to eat as much as I can before a race as it sets me up with reserves for at least the first half. So 1400 calories and two coffees and my pre-race prep was going swimmingly.

Next it was off to Richmond Park for the local parkrun. A “tradition” that James Adams started in 2013 - he finished the PR in 23 mins and the 100 in 22:22 – so there was my target. I met up with Suzie Chan and Shaun Marsden at the start and we chatted about their recent fame in getting engaged at the end of the MDS. I didn’t want to push the parkrun too hard remembering I still had a lot of miles left to run that day, so I stuck to my plan of 25 minutes and chatted to some of the Centurion volunteers on the way round.

Once done we ran back to the start and I dived into the HQ to put on the clown suit & race vest. I’d eventually bitten the bullet and bought a proper vest from Centurion as the old race belt was not going to cut it for UTMB, so now was the perfect time to try it out (It was excellent. Why didn't I buy one sooner?)

Suited and clown booted in the trusty Hokas, I dropped in to the pre-start briefing. Luckily this year there were no major diversions and the weather forecast had improved from absolutely awful to potentially a bit damp overnight. Just in case I’d packed dry baselayers, sealskinz, drymax socks and grippy shoes in my dropbags for mile 51 and 71, neither of which I even opened as the kit I was using proved good enough.

"Seriously, don't run through Reading in that.."

After posing for a few pix, someone honked something and we started running. Then stopped a few hundred yards down the road as us newbies queued for a kissing gate. All the experienced runners had swung left and were streaming past on the main path. I may have run the TP several times, but I can’t remember every bit of it. Anyway, I had 24 hours of running ahead of me, so a minute or two wasn’t going to make a difference.

The first thing that became obvious is that running in a clown suit has an immediate effect on any kids I passed. Adults just shrug, smile or make some comment about being off-course for the marathon, but the kids just loved it. I must have given about 100 high-fives (low-fives for me) in the first 20 miles.

In the early stages I met up with Rashaad, a Bangladeshi runner who was aiming to be the first in his country to complete 100 miles, and hoping to finish under 24 hours. As I don't run with GPS it was only when he said we were on 8:45 min/miles I realised the usual TP suicide pace had kicked in. There was no way I could maintain that so I bid him good luck and dropped back, as my plan was to stick to 10s for the first half and see how it went from there. Little did I know I was to see him bouncing past me like Tigger at the finish to clock 23:00. And he’d composed me a song too - “Every race has it’s clown”.

Shortly after slowing the pace I met up with Paul Reader who I’d met on the Brecon Social Ultra earlier in the year and was running to the same 20-hour pace I had planned. At several points he had to curb my enthusiasm as my head was still telling me 9 min/miles were a good pace. He even had to pull me back once as I kept picking the pace up -  he described it as “training a puppy not to pull on the lead too much”

The first 30 passed fairly uneventfully, though shortly after I started to have stomach issues and walked for quite a while. Once I got back to running I met up with Mark Fox, a stalwart of the Piece of String who ran 80% of last year’s race on a bust ankle (we’re all as sane as each other). We always get on well running together and dragged each other through the cold & rain of the night, warming up a little when we got to each checkpoint.

Now Centurion checkpoints have become something of a legend in UK ultra running. Stocked to the rafters with everything you may ever need, food for an army and enough fresh fruit to feed a zoo, the volunteers all help with a smile and a sense of humour. I especially remember the “inspirational” posters at Reading and the pot of Vaseline with a warning note at Clifton Hampden. So who else is a VasBudy?

 

Inspiration at Reading

I’ve volunteered on several Centurion events but apart from the PoS have never run one. It was great to see the race from the runner’s perspective, as everything worked as clockwork. Your bottles are filled for you, coffee made, and if you sit down you’re asked if you need anything on average every  45 seconds. Then after 5 minutes you’re told that you’ve sat down for too long, told how far it is to the next checkpoint, pointed in the right direction and booted out of the door. Perfect.

Since Henley at mile 51 I’d been checking the time at each checkpoint as I was working out the schedule for a sub-24. We were slowing down considerably through the night and both realised that anything faster than this wasn’t going to happen. I was constantly recalculating the average speed we’d need for both a 24 and 28 hour finish just in case, and as we ran with other groups I shared this with them. For several it was their first 100, so to tell them that they could make the 28h cutoff if they averaged a 3mph walk seemed to boost their spirits, especially now tiredness, blisters and the dreaded chafing were setting in.

Once we’d jogged, slogged and trudged our way to around the 90 mile mark, the sun rose. Well, not so much rose as stuck it’s head out from under the duvet of cloud, took one look at the rain and put the alarm on snooze. The temperature had risen, but we still needed to jog occasionally to warm up, as extended periods of walking left us shivering despite several base layers and waterproofs.

The last few miles were quite muddy, as it had been raining now for 10+ hours. Luckily the ground had been bone dry which had absorbed the majority of the rain, and so I was able to run the full race in the Hokas. They’re fantastic for my feet but awful in mud.

Since I’m talking about clothing I have to say that the clown suit made excellent practical sense. It served as a base layer (nylon fabric), leggings which kept the rain away really well, and gaiters which kept the sodden grass off my shoes. The wig was a bit hot for the daytime, but once I pop round to the barbers that’ll soon be sorted. I did suggest that James makes it compulsory kit, but I’m still waiting for him to get back to me on that.

I did have to perform one last bit of foolery and run in backwards at the finish. !sdrawkcab sgniht gniod ekil od I ,lleW

In all a fantastic experience, another A+ performance by the Centurion team, my first sub-24 trail 100 miler and a good stepping-stone to Thames Ring 250 in 8 weeks time when I'll be clowning around in support of CHSW.. http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/ClownRunning

Sensible With the Silly Stuff & Flitch 100k

Only one resolution this year.. To be sensible with the silly stuff.

I spent a lot of last year like a small kid with unlimited in-app purchases.. Booked too many races, ran too many silly distances and fell down too many hills. The result was £622 spent on races, trains and accommodation that I didn't use due to injury.

So 2015 is going to be calm, measured and. Ooh. Someone needs a teammate for Hope24 the week after TP100. Done deal. Booked !

(Resolution still intact as I entered at 5pm on 31-Dec)

So on to the first race report of 2015:-

 Flitch 100k

Flitch at night

Lindley at Challenge Running very kindly set up this race specifically to qualify for Spartathlon. The entry criteria have tightened up for 2015 and initial interest was good as several people who have run it in previous years don't now have a qualifier.

The idea was to run 10 x 10k out & back sections of the Flitch Way, a fast, flat path on an old railway line out of Braintree. Having done 11:20 as part of a 24h track event, I knew I could shave at least an hour off that to get the 10:30 qualifier, plus I was looking forward to running with some of the better known ultra ladies and gents out there.

At 6:30 am I wandered out of the pub/hotel, across the frozen station car-park and over to a gazebo that was to be the main checkpoint for the day. I said hi to Lindley, his OH Maxine and two other runners, James Harrison and Ian Thomas. Apparently the scourge of winter flu had wiped out the rest of the field and it was up to us few to knock out a qualifier.

We got going at 7am and the three of us ran together with myself and Ian talking up a storm about previous races, people we knew and the general tolox you chat about when yer getting on with sticking the miles in. Time always passes quickly with a good conversation and before I knew it we'd met the guy at the turnaround (sorry, forgot yer name) and set off back. The first 10k ticked off in 53 minutes. Quicker than I had planned but feeling good so no major worries as I was aiming for sub-10 so knew I had to get some faster miles in up front.

Flitch in the day

Wanting to turn & burn quickly I just grabbed a Snickers, shoved it in a glove to warm it up and headed back up the path. The other guys were a little slower getting back out so I had a couple of hundred meters lead, but it was early days and this was all about the pace.

Coming back in for the second leg and munching the now gooey Snicker-gel, I must have subconsciously been trying to stay ahead as the second 10k was down to 46 minutes. Silly pace. I made a note to slow it down from there on out and had an uneventful 3rd section in 52 mins. All good so far.

By this time I'd stopped noticing the landmarks and was in auto-pilot. Plodding along, turning every 5k and ticking off the miles. Gooey Snickers and 500ml of electrolyte at the CP. Turn & repeat. Turn & repeat. By this time Ian had passed me and had a half-mile lead. He looked to be going strong and a couple of times warned me about ice forming on the bridges from freezing fog. Not a problem as I was applying Hill Rule and walking them anyway.

At 40k I noticed that I hadn't passed James, and Lindley later said he'd dropped out.
So then there were two.

I hit the marathon in 3:43 and 50k in 4:26, but suffered a little in the middle dropping to 70 and 67 mins for the next 2 sections. James was having problems staying warm at this stage as the temperature had dropped to -2 and due to stomach issues he wasn't taking on much food. It was cold enough to make the coke freeze over. I was fine as I'd put on an extra 17lbs of padding since T184.

As a break from watching dog walkers "exercise" their dogs, Maxine ran with me for the 8th leg and we chatted about all things running. Again the company made the hour pass in minutes. When we got back at the 80km mark Ian was just about to leave the CP so we ran together for a short section, but he was obviously suffering while I was on an upward swing so he let me go ahead.

'T Rayne Station

The last 20k was pretty uneventful and I put in two 58 minute legs to give a final time of 9:44 - A lot faster than I'd expected and one that will give me a qualifier for 2016 when the 100k time drops to 10 hours for men (Can of worms. Not opening that one).

Many, many thanks to Lindley, Maxine and Turnaround Point Bloke for standing in subzero temperatures just to see two blokes grab a coffee and snacks every hour. You guys are why I'm so priviledged to be part of this nutcase world.

So now I have a qualifier for Spartathlon. We shall see what the ballot brings..

(And I stuck mesself in for UTMB too since I had the points. Bugger. That's my resolution broken)

Piece of String3 - DNS and DNF

It was the worst of times, it was the best of times.

It all started Like the Wind. After a great evening at their pop-up talk in central London, where I met pretty much all the Centurion stalwarts chugging beer at the back plus a few other runners talking about running and stuff, I hopped on the train to Tring.

Being proper mentalists the PoS group had a great idea a few days before the race to also run the inaugural Tring Parkrun. I think it was Adams that suggested this. The run was only 5 miles away and although I had no way to get to the start of PoS (not being a driver), Mark Fox offered me a lift. I was also in the String mindset and thought this might play some part in this year’s pointlessness. I even went to the point of checking who the RD was just in case the Jameses had set this up as an elaborate hoax. The paranoia had started early this year.

As the Parkrun organisers started the briefing at 9am and proceeded to enjoy a good back-slapping exercise in front of the 100 or so morning runners, I had to leave the ongoing handshakes, cheque presentations and introductions of all the people who made this event possible at 9:15 to be able to get back to the start of PoS. So the first run of the day ended in a DNS.

Mark drove over due to a late breakfast and gave me a lift to the Village Hall in Wendover where I met many familiar faces and and donned the chicken suit. I’d told a few friends that I was running in the suit this year as the PoS is billed as a Fun Run, and I wanted to explore this aspect. Unfortunately as I wandered to the start line I realised I was only able to see through a postage-stamp size hole and was already sweating like a good ‘un. But not being one to give up on a mad plan, I persevered.

"13 runners, one chicken"

Level 1: Chain Hill

Nici Griffin was to be the ringmaster on this little bit of fun, and delighted in sending us on around 10 laps of Chain Hill (I lost count. It doesn’t pay to count things on PoS). We had to complete a lap on average every 15 minutes. Quite doable but tough on the quads. I estimated the hill to be a couple of hundred feet. So this was a quick 2 hour warm-up, 10k and 2000’ascent. Level 1 complete.

Level 2: More Hills

Returning back to Wendover we had a quick briefing from James Elson, which was exactly the same as the Level 1 briefing. Namely we had to run 14 minute miles across the Ridgeway to Goring. Oh goody. More hills. By now I was really starting to feel the effects of the heat, hills and chicken suit but being properly unstable I had vowed to keep it on the whole race. So back through town for the third time and more questioning looks from the Saturday morning shoppers.

Getting chicky with it

We trotted along the Ridgeway at a comfortable pace and I fell in to a group of 3 with John Barrett and Antonio Martins. We talked about the beauty of the countryside, the joy of being out on the hills and generally what’s great about running. Always good to have positive uplifting conversation. By now the suit was beginning to take it’s toll. 3 hours in and I’d gone through 4 litres of water and enough electrolyte to rehydrate a small horse, and not needed a loo break (thankfully, as the suit is not equipped for such functions). 

I was starting to flag. 

I waved the other two on and took a slow hike up a particularly long hill.

In an attempt to catch them up again I put my foot down on the downhill. In the wrong place. A niggling knee injury twanged and I was reduced to walking. No problem as I’d done this in pretty much every race this season. Just walk it out and back to running in no time.

Each time I tried to run, the knee wasn’t playing ball, so a long hike was in order.  I was passed by the rest of the field who all stopped and asked if I was OK.  I was, but mentally I was cursing that goshdarn knee. To the point I took of the suit & stuck it in my backpack. I didn’t want anything to slow me down as it was now a race against the cutoff. The worst of times.

It was a race I didn’t win. As I plodded down a lane James Adams met me at the checkpoint. I was 15 minutes outside the cut-off though he did give me the option of returning, but I wasn’t going to be running again today and so took the DNF at about 15 miles. My shortest ever ultra.

Back to Wendover we picked up Debbie King who had got very lost and was waiting for us in a nearby pub. As I’d gambled on a long string again this year my train ticket home was for 7pm Sunday, so I asked if there was anything I could do to help. As a competitor turned volunteer it was fascinating to see the well-oiled meticulously planned PoS machine in action. I found my niche making tea and coffee and eating all the chocolate crack.

Chillin' while Chain Hillin'

As the runners returned to Wendover for the second time, they all looked in pretty good spirits. Anna bopped in as 1^st lady and 4^th overall, though as Sam Robson dropped here, she left as 3^rd overall.

My fellow Socialler, Mark Fox was limping badly due to twice twisting his ankle on Level 1 and was close to bailing. Luckily the next level was on the Grand Union Canal. Nice and flat, and so we persuaded him to pop out for another section. I was under strict instruction not to give anything away. So a nice flat GUC run it was then.

Level 3: A bit of canal and more Ridgeway

As it was now dark nav became a bit of an issue. That and the RDs forgetting to mention that the GUC had been drained for most of the section they were running so they couldn’t “follow the water” as usual. The Jameses swiftly and efficiently organised a text to all runners and we were back on track, and in the meantime it was time to brief for Level 4.

As it turned out most runners got through this section fine apart from Anna who managed to get pretty well lost and slipped from 3^rd to 8^th returning back at Wendover after 50-odd miles. We did lose Mark and Caroline after they missed the cut-off, so down to 6 runners.

Level 4: More hills

This was the beast section. The all-singing all-dancing James and James roadshow had found a looped track on a hillside in the nearby woods. Earlier in the day we’d asked the Twitterverse to vote trick or treat for each competitor. Some got 60% tricks, some got 100% tricks, though this useful experiment goes to prove that Twitter is full of sick, twisted individuals.

Midnight in the woods, dancing to toonz..

Nikki Mills and I were based at the checkpoint and had to meet & greet runners as they joined the fun. We first sent them uphill to the upper path, where Chris Mills was hiding in the bushes whispering Golum phrases and directing them back down to the lower path. Based on the Twitter votes, James Adams (who really enjoys this sort of thing) then either gave them a trick, directing them on the hell loop and a 49 degree scramble up Hoka Hill, or to continue along the flat path to our checkpoint for the treat. He was also tweeting each decision as the runner was told, just to make those voting for trick feel guilty.

Which I’m sure they didn’t.

In a display of absolute grit and determination, every runner that we sent on another loop merely refilled with water and gels, then set off on the next lap. Most had twigged this was going to be a night of loops on the second lap so just looked at us quipped “another lap?” and set off up the hill again as we nodded.

Finally after 5 laps we could send the runners back to Wendover with a “good news / bad news” greeting. 

The good news was back to the Hall. 

The bad news – they’d get that back at the hall.

The bad news back at the hall was that it was all over.

We’re a little bit twisted like that.

So as one by one the runners were sent back down to finish it only left Anna out on the course. Tunes blaring, bopping away and giving Adams a hard time for this year’s “piece of piss” to be sent down the hill to finish. All done. 

The best of times.

T184 - Sleeping my way to a finish

T184 is an unsupported run along the length of the Thames from the barrier in East London to the source near Kemble in Gloucestershire. There are checkpoints every 25-30 miles where you get water. Nothing else. You start carry everything you need for potentially 4 days running, sleeping and eating.

The route

My race began with a LOT of planning. Numbers and spreadsheets are my thing so I had catalogued every piece of kit I have into categories, with weight and bulk. The idea was that I could then work out the best kit combination and the size of pack I would need. There was also a lot of information and chat on kit, etc on the t184 facebook forum, which I read and added to my notes, including the best bit of advice from the RD Shane Benzie.. It's not kit weight but kit selection that will make the difference whether you DNF or not.

The final decision was to go with a lightweight approach but with one eye on the weather. That meant I had to carry kit for a cold Saturday (the forecast was for 6c overnight) and a wet Sunday.  I’d done a couple of long runs with my Innov-8 RaceElite 24 and knew it was comfy with no rubbing and for easy access I’d bought a RaceElite 3 waist pack for phone, map & snacks.

Key kit would be for comfortable sleeping as I’ve done a lot of hiking over the years and found that I’m useless without decent rest. Pace drops, I start to make navigation errors, etc as soon as I get really tired so a decent warm set-up was essential. Due to predictions for the cold weather I went for a 4-season Sea to Summit bag at +4/-2c, a Rab Ultralight bivi and Sil Poncho / tarp to keep the rain off (and as an extra layer if it got really wet) with a simple cut-down foam roll-mat for a bit of comfort.

On the food front I decided to leave the cooking kit and freeze-dried food at home due to the higher calorie value of nuts, pepperami and chocolate. Plus I saved over 1kg and a load of space in the pack by going with a cold-food option. And it was instantly available. No stopping to faff with boiling water and waiting for food to hydrate.

Race plan. Out of the window by CP2

My race plan was a run/walk strategy for 20/5 minutes at 6/3mph. Day two would be the same but at 5/2.5mph and day three at 4/2mph. I had also planned two 8 hour sleep stops overnight to recuperate fully from the day. I wanted to treat this more as 3 days of 100k, and use the sleep break as a reward for completing that day’s task.

Kenneth Branagh giving us his
Richard III speech

On Friday morning 70-odd runners gathered at the Thames Barrier café. We collected a tracking device, make final kit checks, some of us peed, drooled and gave blood for a Kent Uni immunology study and at 10:30am set off. The initial pace felt comfortable and we quickly passed the dome, crossed under Blackwall Tunnel and jogged past Parliament. The crowds of tourists were a problem in places but a few minutes walking were going to make absolutely no difference in a race that has an 80 hour cutoff.

At CP1 I came in at just over 5 hours, a little ahead of schedule but feeling good. Seeing the sights on a running tour of London had been a great lift, and I was ready to get going on the next 26 mile section. During the day several people had met me through London and run or walked for a while, which helped to pass the time and boost morale.  

For the second section I’d been running with a group and had become unofficial group leader after telling them I knew the area well (I used to camp at Laleham while working in Chertsey a few years back). I soon proved my worth by leading us down the wrong route that resulted in a 3 mile detour, but made up for this with a water stop at the campsite with an 80’s disco and an interesting encounter with a group of slightly drunk ladies offering us wine and food. We all declined. Moses did want to go boogie, but we had other things to do.

We reached CP2 at Old Windsor around midnight. Everything was going fine but a lot slower than planned due to a lot of walking. 53 miles in and I was way behind schedule, but I was enjoying myself so much I decided to implement the Whenever Plan. As long as I was ahead of the cut-offs, I’d just run, walk or sleep whenever I felt like it. My decision was therefore to bivi down on the football pitches on the approach to Windsor for a good night’s sleep.

Saturday morning saw me back on the road at dawn after a lovely 5 hours sleep. I jogged for a couple of hours as I knew I’d been 4 hours ahead of the cut-off at CP2 so I was now behind. But with the average required pace 2.3mph I knew that with a morning of running, I could get that buffer back. I met Jamie Woods at CP3 in Henley who had droped due to blisters. Luckily so far my feet were in great condition. I was removing shoes and socks at every chance and airing them out which combined with the recovery they got while I was asleep seemed to be keeping them in tip-top condition.

Together with the Whatever Plan, I had now decided that I would use my food as a reward system, so I tucked in to the 2 pepperami that I would get at every CP, filled up with water and moved on up the river.

Throughout the day I was catching up to runners and jogging with them for a while, as many had just grabbed the odd hour of sleep so my 5 hours had put me well behind. On the approach to the 100 mile point at Streatley I was becoming increasingly glad of my decision to take these proper sleep breaks as I noticed that many were looking extremely tired and having difficulty keeping a conversation going. Approaching CP4 at Streatley I also met a Kate Hayden and heard that a good mate Chris Edmonds had dropped earlier due to shin splints, a recurring problem and one that he needs to get properly sorted! (hint)

Streatley became a graveyard. Runner after runner collapsed in a chair and handed in their number. Maybe having reached 100 miles they felt happy they’d done enough, maybe it was the realisation there were still 84 miles and two more days ahead, but the field slimmed considerably. Another to exit from the race here was Tom Foreman, with whom I’d run the PoS last year. He’d decided that running the race was too easy and started swimming upstream a mile or so back.

Selfie while runners fight over a pie

Off again on the path and I was now on sections I was unfamiliar with. Well, the path at least. I’d rowed the Thames in a “three men in a boat” skiff a few years ago with my wife, so was familiar with the towns, bridges and pubs. Unfortunately the latter were well out-of-bounds so I had to march past with my eyes averted to the beer and food being served. To be honest it didn’t bother me. That was a different world now, I had a race to complete.

It was also around this time that I began to realise people smelled of soap and laundry detergent. Everyone I passed on the path had a distinct “just washed” smell. I’m sure the same applied in reverse as I’d been two days and nights as a soap dodger and the baseball cap was beginning to crawl away when I put it down.

I carried on about 6 miles past Streatley and found a lovely road bridge to sleep under. I the night fisherman further up the bank probably thought I was homeless but thankfully he didn’t offer me any food, and by the time I woke and set off he’d gone.

130 miles rolled around at Oxford and I was still feeling good. No blisters, the nutrition was working well and thanks to a load of sleep I was running well, taking photos and generally enjoying the experience. By now I had settled into a routine of run/walk for the morning marathon, then walking the afternoon. The pattern worked fine and I was so relaxed I was almost in a trance at points. I can see what these Sri Chinmoy guys are on to.

Over the flat farmland coming in to CP6 I could hear rock music. As I got closer it appeared to be a bad cover band. I couldn’t remember hearing of a festival in the local area and was wondering what it was. Chris came out to guide me in and said the pub opposite had a live band. Great. I was planning to sleep at this CP and they have Disaster Area playing.

Luckily to boost my spirits Chris and Nikki Mills turned up to give me some abuse and drink coffee in front of me. Anna Buckingham also dropped in, so we had a shouted conversation for an hour or so. The band actually stopped 30 mins after I got there but Chris talks so much find yourself shouting just to get a word in edgeways.

To give the CP staff a rest I ambled down the road half a mile for another snooze under my tarp/poncho at midnight as I knew rain was due. I heard a couple of guys hike past at 1am and shouted a greeting from under my shelter. Unphased they just shouted back “Is that Cranswick?” - I might have been getting a reputation for sleeping.

Shillingford Bridge early on Sunday

As this was the last day I was up at 4am in full waterproofs for a trudge through the dark till dawn. Although the next checkpoint and finish were only 13 and 16 miles apart respectively, these felt like the longest stages of the race. The rain didn’t help as for the first time in the race I could do nothing to prevent wet feet. The one thing I would change is having a set of sealskins in the pack for a bit more comfort in the rain as for once my feet started to deteriorate. Not a problem on the last day but had it been wet throughout I’d have been suffering.

I’d been leapfrogging Nina Smith for a couple of days and we’d run together for quite a while. She’s a great person to run with as she’s amazingly positive and has run pretty much everything several times. Plus she’s a tough as nails and will drag you through the low points. We hiked in to CP7 at 168 miles and once again Chris Edmonds was there to walk us in. There was a packet of open biscuits on the table which unthinkingly I reached towards before remembering that this was unsupported and reverted to the usual 2 Pepperami and a handful of nuts. The CP volunteers were cruelly offering around a box of crisps amongst themselves so in retaliation I left them a present of my old wet socks as I changed into a dry pair for the last 16 miles.

Andrew Jordan came round to say hi and lend some welcome moral support, and I did the usual silly pose for the camera as he took a “leaving for the last stage” picture. As we got going we were informed that the back-marker James Penson was powering so we decided to try to up the pace, not because we were worried about position but more that we wanted a comfortable buffer on the cut-offs and realised we were slowing considerably.

Erm...

Through the endless lakes towards Kemble I was trying to keep up the pace, but we kept slipping back to 2-3 mph. We weren’t looking for a power finish, just to speed up a bit so we could get the suffering over sooner. As James powered past I asked Nina if we should tag on the back of his zippy pace, she saw I was eager to get a move on and kindly said she’d catch up. Which she did. Due to my excellent navigation we found ourselves going wrong and after his friend in Australia called to say we’d gone off-route and had to backtrack about half a mile, where we met Nina again who was about to make the same error we’d just made.

Eager to get this over with we marched up the last hill, over the railway tracks and broke into a jog as we came towards the final gate. You could sense the anticipation as Nina put in a burst of speed to get her to the gate first, with me tracking and James keeping close. At the bell (sorry, gate), we were jostling for position and I kicked past Nina. I asked “are we going for it”, she agreed so I gave it the beans.

After 183.8 miles and 76 hours I actually managed something resembling a sprint.

Then something clicked in my head.

This was fun but we’d run this together. Not just me, Nina and James. But all the people I’d run with. All the people I’d talked to, bantered with on Facebook and the 70 nutcases that queued to start the race on Friday morning with no idea what was about to unfold.

I stopped. We had to go in together.

I waited for James about 30 meters from the stone. He stopped and we made a gap for Nina to grab our hands as we ran it in together and collapsed on the stone. Finished.

For those that took up this epic challenge I have a feeling.. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CqA5IJPEONY