Gosh, it's amazing how much energy running 100 (and one) miles takes out of you. It's been a week and two days now, and I've just about regained the strength to type. That being the case, I will now attempt to relive the whole experience, and commit it to memory so I don't get any ridiculous ideas of doing anything similar again (Ha! Too late for that!)......
The Dorset 100.....in bits (as I haven't quite enough energy to do it all at once)
Leg 1: Wey Valley School to Crossways, distance 9.8 miles, 1044 ft of up, 938 ft of down
The Dorset 100.....in bits (as I haven't quite enough energy to do it all at once)
Leg 1: Wey Valley School to Crossways, distance 9.8 miles, 1044 ft of up, 938 ft of down
Woke up feeling terrified of the day/ night/ day ahead. The butterflies in my stomach are flapping about so hard I feel quite queasy. Even a delicious bacon and egg butty and a cup of coffee, a tried and tested way of solving most of my past problems, doesn't sort it out. In the car to the start, in all of 10 minutes, I feel totally sick. How am I going to run in this state?? Have a little internal panic attack at the thought. My Dad drops off Andrew and I, and I check in. Number 306. Am there 50 minutes early, which is far too much spare time when you are waiting to do something you're not sure you can do. Try to drink another cup of coffee (part of my current anxiety is based around how on this good earth am I going to stay awake until tomorrow evening), and relax, but this is hindered somewhat by the large number of intimidatingly fast and indestructible looking people lounging around, and giving off the air that this is something they do every day.
Argh.
Argh.
Eventually, just before 12 pm, everyone rushes from the hall to gather on the grass outside at The Start. After a short speech by the organizers, and some well meant jokes about how bonkers this is, which do nothing for my nerves, everyone gets on their way. Too late to back out now I suppose, so here goes....
I start at the back and try to get into my rhythm without being distracted by everyone all around me. The first few miles are up hill next to a big road, but soon head off into the country and through some fields. Phew, it's hot already. Get chatting to a guy called Dave who is also on his first 100. Nice to be with someone who is also in the same boat, and is totally relaxed about everything, and we spend the first third or so of the race leap-frogging each other and having a chat on the way past.
After a few miles, we run through a watercress farm. I love watercress, so this is quite a revelation to me, as I've never seen it other than in a plastic bag in shops before. Gosh, there's a lot of it. Imagine how much iron there is in that lot. Mmmmm....watercress..... Focus! Almost missed the turn by 'dilapidated building on LHS TL up TK (CB310)'. Sigh. The next couple of miles are through an 'aggregate industries' area, which is full of helpful signs, like "beware - danger of death", "beware of the quicksands", "do not swim - cold deep water". Crikey. Better pay attention. Thankfully, I make it through the danger, and arrive at checkpoint number 1, at a place called Crossways, where I get my first clip on my checking-in card, re-hydrate with purple squash, have a piece of flapjack and some jelly sweets, say hi to Dave, and congratulate myself on being so good as to reach the 10 mile point in 2 hours. Brilliant, I'll be done by breakfast time at this rate.
Leg 2: Crossways to Briantspuddle, distance 6.9 miles, 477 ft of up, 541 ft of down
The next part is all along some nice fields with some views of some rather fancy country piles. Oooh to be floating around in a cool swimming pool with a glass of fizzy plonk and some strawberries.....blimey, it's only 10 miles in, how am I thinking of a refreshing alcoholic beverage already? Have a consolatory sip on my water from my camel-back, which after two hours of running around in the sun is by now almost hot enough to brew tea with, and berate myself for lack of focus. Then all of a sudden we come into a path through some pine woods and purple rhododendrons crowd the path from either side, and I breath in the pine scent and at once feel at one with the earth again.
Soon we reach a cemetery where Lawrence of Arabia is buried. My parents are there, great to see them, although almost missed my Mum who was off doing a spot of grave spotting. Which is better than grave digging, I guess. Then we head over a long footbridge across a wide and babbling river, with people paddling in the cool waters. I am so jealous, it's unreal.
Soon after, we start to catch up with the people who started at 10 am, and it's a big boost to have some friendly chats. A few miles are though some big woods, and up the steepest hill yet. Crikey. At the top, a lady walking her dog shouts out well done wishes, and that her daughter saw me earlier on in the day, and wants me to know that I am 'the most stylish runner' and she likes my pink leggings. Aww, thanks! I don't feel particularly stylish after 3 hours of running in this heat, I have to say, but I feel momentarily like maybe I don't look like a complete buffoon stomping about the countryside in neon clothes.
We soon arrive at the next place on the map (all going well with the navigation so far....) which is charmingly named Briantspuddle, and is a delightful little thatched village straight off a chocolate box. I approach a white haired gentleman who is briskly walking towards the next checkpoint and casually mention how pretty the village is. "It is" he relied "until one goes up, then the whole row will be in flames." Well, I suppose that's another way to look at it.
I arrive at Checkpoint 2 at the same time as Dave. We go from being in a sleepy little lane to being thrust into a village hall crammed with hundreds of walkers sat around replenishing their fuel reserves with plates piled high with an assortment of sandwiches, crisps, and all manner of baked delights, and copious amounts of tea and coffee. Slightly overwhelmed, I inquire where I can get some water to top up my water pack, and am directed to a wooden table on which several buckets of different coloured squash are placed. My word! Have never seen so much squash. "We've already used about 20 buckets" pipes up one of the men who is manning the squash station. 20 buckets. Of squash. Already. At least this will all come in handy if the whole village goes up in flames.
Definitely re-hydrated, I pinch a packet of crisps, and head on out for the next leg....
....which is to follow.....
After a few miles, we run through a watercress farm. I love watercress, so this is quite a revelation to me, as I've never seen it other than in a plastic bag in shops before. Gosh, there's a lot of it. Imagine how much iron there is in that lot. Mmmmm....watercress..... Focus! Almost missed the turn by 'dilapidated building on LHS TL up TK (CB310)'. Sigh. The next couple of miles are through an 'aggregate industries' area, which is full of helpful signs, like "beware - danger of death", "beware of the quicksands", "do not swim - cold deep water". Crikey. Better pay attention. Thankfully, I make it through the danger, and arrive at checkpoint number 1, at a place called Crossways, where I get my first clip on my checking-in card, re-hydrate with purple squash, have a piece of flapjack and some jelly sweets, say hi to Dave, and congratulate myself on being so good as to reach the 10 mile point in 2 hours. Brilliant, I'll be done by breakfast time at this rate.
Leg 2: Crossways to Briantspuddle, distance 6.9 miles, 477 ft of up, 541 ft of down
The next part is all along some nice fields with some views of some rather fancy country piles. Oooh to be floating around in a cool swimming pool with a glass of fizzy plonk and some strawberries.....blimey, it's only 10 miles in, how am I thinking of a refreshing alcoholic beverage already? Have a consolatory sip on my water from my camel-back, which after two hours of running around in the sun is by now almost hot enough to brew tea with, and berate myself for lack of focus. Then all of a sudden we come into a path through some pine woods and purple rhododendrons crowd the path from either side, and I breath in the pine scent and at once feel at one with the earth again.
Soon we reach a cemetery where Lawrence of Arabia is buried. My parents are there, great to see them, although almost missed my Mum who was off doing a spot of grave spotting. Which is better than grave digging, I guess. Then we head over a long footbridge across a wide and babbling river, with people paddling in the cool waters. I am so jealous, it's unreal.
Soon after, we start to catch up with the people who started at 10 am, and it's a big boost to have some friendly chats. A few miles are though some big woods, and up the steepest hill yet. Crikey. At the top, a lady walking her dog shouts out well done wishes, and that her daughter saw me earlier on in the day, and wants me to know that I am 'the most stylish runner' and she likes my pink leggings. Aww, thanks! I don't feel particularly stylish after 3 hours of running in this heat, I have to say, but I feel momentarily like maybe I don't look like a complete buffoon stomping about the countryside in neon clothes.
We soon arrive at the next place on the map (all going well with the navigation so far....) which is charmingly named Briantspuddle, and is a delightful little thatched village straight off a chocolate box. I approach a white haired gentleman who is briskly walking towards the next checkpoint and casually mention how pretty the village is. "It is" he relied "until one goes up, then the whole row will be in flames." Well, I suppose that's another way to look at it.
I arrive at Checkpoint 2 at the same time as Dave. We go from being in a sleepy little lane to being thrust into a village hall crammed with hundreds of walkers sat around replenishing their fuel reserves with plates piled high with an assortment of sandwiches, crisps, and all manner of baked delights, and copious amounts of tea and coffee. Slightly overwhelmed, I inquire where I can get some water to top up my water pack, and am directed to a wooden table on which several buckets of different coloured squash are placed. My word! Have never seen so much squash. "We've already used about 20 buckets" pipes up one of the men who is manning the squash station. 20 buckets. Of squash. Already. At least this will all come in handy if the whole village goes up in flames.
Definitely re-hydrated, I pinch a packet of crisps, and head on out for the next leg....
....which is to follow.....
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