Marathons #77, #78 and #79

It’s remarkable the gems of insight you find just wandering around. And it’s just as well. My inspiration for writing has waned somewhat of late, and so random guidance from accommodating signposts is always helpful the effort to get over writers block. So lo! A sign! I don’t mind admitting I have been floundering and worrying a lot lately about what the point of running 100 marathons is, in fact, what the point of me is. So much so, that I had neglected to notice the fact that whilst I’d been running around in circles in my head, I had actually been running round in an ever increasing number of physical circles as well, and hadn’t written a single word of a single race report about a single one of them. And soon, I ran across another sign, which although not altogether encouraging…

...reminded me that even if it seems a long way to your goal, you shouldn't mind, as that just means that there's still lots of good times to be had on the way. And so for my latest three race reports…..

#77 - Star Runners, 24^th June 2018, 32.8 miles

I was equally excited and full of trepidation for today’s run. Excited because it was my second run with Saturn Running, a new race organiser on the block which put on just fabulous events, and also full of trepidation because it started at the same place (Wraysbury Skiff and Punting Club, should you wish to go) as the Magna Carta Marathon I did a couple of months ago, where such was the depths of despair that my body sank to, that I thought my running career, if not my whole existence, was about to extinguish.

By a stroke of luck, the first feeling was accurate, and it was a wonderful day. I ran (literally, ha! – you must excuse the recycling of some old and dreadful jokes whilst I regain my writing mojo) into Gemma at the start and ran the marathon with her. The time flew past really rather fast with someone to talk to. And Gemma is really so lovely. It was genuinely quite an experience to run for 4 and a half hours with someone who was constantly nice to me and checking in that everything was OK every few minutes. Afterwards, I wondered why that was, and the revelation struck that if I ran a marathon by myself in 4 and a half hours, I spend about 4 of those hours being deplorable to myself, berating myself for not being quicker, or as good as the person who just passed me, for not doing this right, for doing that wrong, for just being useless. Sounds stupid, but I think you get so used to things sometimes you don't even notice that you're doing them. Anyway, it was food for thought for me.

And (it wasn’t going to be long before arriving on to the subject) on to actual food! And watermelon! This has long been my favourite food, and lo here we were at a lapped event, and there was watermelon every 5 km! Dreams do come true. 

It’s the first time, I think, that I’ve run a race whilst England (football) have been playing. And it’s definitely the first time I’ve run a race whilst they’ve won. George had set it up on his phone at the aid station, and what a hoot it was checking in every 35 ish minutes on the score! And they even scored whilst I was watching! Such is the time it’s taken to write this, that we all by now know the fate which eventually befell our beloved side, but fair play to them, good effort all round!

I completed the marathon distance with Gemma, and was feeling alright, so carried on for a couple more laps to do 32.8 miles. After that, it was too hot, I’d got a headache, and the watermelon had run out, so I called it a day. Thanks again Saturn Running for a top event.

#78 - Afoot In Two Dales, 7^th July 2018, 50 miles

Ow do! It’s a new Yorkshire 50! This was a re-invented event which hadn’t been run for a good number of years, but was back on the event calendar, and filling a gap left by the Woldsman 50 (my favourite 50), which alas was no longer in existence.

I was feeling full of excitement and tredipation again for today. I hadn’t done a run this far since the 100 last year, and the ghosts of that are still floating back into my conscious every so often. But I was excited as 50’s had always been my favourite distance to run, so maybe I would return to some semblance of my former self and manage to do it well. The run was up in the Yorkshire Dales, a fine place to be if ever there was one. Preparations in the 24 hours leading up the start didn’t follow conventional advice. I spent all day walking around the “Allergy and Free From Show” (for work), and trying a great array of new “free-from” foods for “research” purposes. Thus disregarding in an offhanded fashion that well known gem of running wisdom of not to try anything new in the lead up to a race. We then headed up north on a packed train with broken air-con, which usually in Britain wouldn’t make a scrap of difference, but today in the 28oC heat, after three hours of roasting like little pigs in blankets all squashed together in an oven, we emerged from the carriage red as lobsters, gasping in the fresh cool Yorkshire air. Which wasn't that cool, come to think of it. Heck, it was hot.

I did still feel a bit peaky the next morning. Maybe the combination of free-from foods didn’t agree with me as a pre ultra diet. I managed ½ a bread muffin and some fruit and yoghurt, and a little coffee. I was also feeling decidedly nervous about the day, not a feeling I often have or relish. I felt momentarily better on arriving, as there were heaps of familiar friendly faces loitering around at the start. But oh! It was 50 miles! Who was I kidding, I hadn't done this in over a year! 

We congregated as a great mass outside the hall, and I surreptitiously inched towards the back of the crowd as the race briefing was underway. If I was really, really quiet maybe no one would notice if I hid in the toilets for a bit and then bailed it, and spent the day eating Wensleydale cheese and ice cream sat under a nice cool tree. Mmmmm, ice cream. The shrill peel of the starting whistle interrupted my daydream, and a sea of faces covered in interesting patterns of suncream and a variety of hats, all belonging to several hundred people suddenly turned and stampeded towards me. That will teach me to read the route description and check the direction for the first point. I was now accidentally right at the front, and faced with the option of being trampled by a crowd of people all about to traverse 50 miles on foot (and therefore as mad as a box of frogs), I started running. I was completely useless. I couldn’t even not start a race properly. Ee cudna stop a pig in a ginnel, to coin a popular Yorkshire phrase. I realised that within approximately 5 seconds of starting I was already being negative towards myself, and that following my recent reflections, this must not do. Fortunately, I soon got chatting to Julie who I ran the rest of the way with, joined by Kim a bit later, and Jesse for the last few miles, and I was extremely lucky to meet them, and picked up a huge amount of tips from their extensive running experiences along the way.

The heat was just too much for me today, and I really struggled in it. I felt sick all day and couldn’t eat much, and also got a great number of new blisters, which was devastating as I was wearing new shoes (i.e. had just spent a lot of money on new shoes). Other than that, which I kind of got used to after a while, it was a wonderful day. The scenery was out of this world. 

I’ve got to say, there’s nowt quite like the Yorkshire Dales on a sunny day. The route took in Wensleydale and Swaledale, and the scenery was literally so stunning it was difficult to look enough to take it all in. My eyes hurt from it all. The only part of the route that I’d had any apprehension about was the section over Great Shunner Fell (which are three words that I don’t like, altogether at once, to describe a hill). It was fairly tough, a long 4 mile uphill, but not as bad as I’d feared. 

The descent was actually worse – as we came down the other side into the valley the slight breeze that had been blowing on the top suddenly ceased, and it felt like the heat from the valley was pushing back up, whilst the sun shone on the bright white rocky path and reflected back up to the blue sky. It was literally like running in an oven. Eh by gum. 

But we were rewarded at the bottom – England were playing again, and by the time we reached the next checkpoint were winning! I also sourced some more watermelon, and thus fortified we set off again for the second half.

I can honestly say I have never drunk so much, or sweated so much in my life. It was like a reservoir passed through my body, and I still felt thirsty. In a lack of organisation prior to the run I hadn’t managed to get any electrolyte tablets, so was experimenting with dioralyte instead, which usually makes me heave at the thought, but I was so thirsty that even that was going down a treat. It worked quite well actually, and it's cheap, and as I've now got loads of the stuff, I shall use it again.

We made it back before dark. Although it was tough, I had a brilliant day, met some wonderful people, and learnt more about running ultras than I have in a long time. Thanks to Julie, Kim and Jesse who helped me through! And to my Mum and Dad and Andrew for the support along the way. And of course to the Irregulars LDWA for a brilliant event, I hope it stays a firm fixture in the event calendar. 

I soon recovered from the heat, and was able to fully enjoy Wensleydale by partaking in a bit of cheese tasting. More cheese, Gromit?

And celebrate my Mum's birthday with cream tea (thanks - and Dad - for your support this weekend, and all the time!): 

Refuelling. An essential part of any recovery.

#79 - Shark Run Grey Reef, 14^th July 2018, marathon

And from a Yorkshire twang, to the dulcet tones of Essex. Bee-ayve! Yes. My Jaws medal from last years Jaw Dropper marathon was looking hungry:

No cake would pacify it: 

Nor a small deer:

And not even some Royals:

And so I decided it was time for another shark medal to join it, and dueley headed to Essex for the Grey Reef Shark Run, in search of a fellow shark medal. 

Phwoar, it was another scorcher. I celebrated by putting out two different bottles of suncream, and promptly forgetting to take either. Fortunately the awesome Rik and Phoenix Team let me borrow some, and so I was spared a red face (and other parts). Phwoar it was hot. Yes, I’ve said it again, but it’s worth emphasising. This was a 5 km lapped run, and I managed about one lap before the engine overheated and began a gradual decline in performance, before settling on spluttering along in that irritating bit where you can’t quite make it from neutral to first gear, that makes a horrid screeching noise. Fortunately, I ran into George from Saturn running around about the third lap, and he kindly distracted me for a while with a lot of entertaining running tales on route to his 52 in 52 (that’s 52 marathons in 52 weeks). As always at lapped events there's plenty of people to talk to on the way around, so I always love them, and today was no exception. Despite these distractions, my engine had now stopped trying even to make first gear, and my last couple of laps were spent in an unpleasant place, my head feeling very light, and my legs feeling very heavy (which I suppose if you take an average, means I was about right). There must be some sort of physics phenomena to describe this. I made it to the end, where such was my patheticness that I was knocked over when Rik gave me my medal.

Aside from my physical failings, it was a lovely run. Beautiful route along the River Stort, and great to come back to a route I did in the winter, and see how the changing seasons completely change it. 

Not even a drop of mud today. Not one! A great friendly event, amazing aid station, and good fun to be had as always at Phoenix events - thanks Phoenix! And Jaws finally is satisfied with his new partner, and has stopped trying to eat the other medals: