Taking things easy at the East Farm Frolic

The doctor had never said that I shouldn't run.  All he had said was that I should 'take it easy,' so after a diagnosis of Whooping Cough and two weeks of not running I decided to give White Star Running's 12 hour challenge a go.  I had entered a few months ago as a solo runner, Husbando and 2 friends had entered as a team of three, so we were looking forward to a jolly day out in the Dorset countryside.  I sent my friend a text a couple of days ago saying 'It will be fun, I can walk a few laps and still get the bling,' but in the back of my mind I knew that I wanted to clock up another marathon - and that would be possible even if I walked the whole way.

After a hot and humid few days, Sunday morning was grey and drizzly.  The weather got worse as we drove down to Dorset (leaving home at 5.15am).  Of course, it was Bank Holiday weekend - so we had no right to expect sunny weather!  I thought back to the end of last summer - when I entered a Bank Holiday race - at least it wasn't that bad this year!  We consoled ourselves by saying that the past few days had been 'too hot' to run!

Arriving at East Farm, we unpacked the car (we had brought everything and the kitchen sink) and set up our table and chairs in the MASSIVE MARQUEE near the start.  Race numbers, timing chips and pink and purple rubber chickens were collected (yes, you did read that correctly!)  We assembled for the race briefing at about 7.45am.  This is quite possibly the only race brief that included a demonstration of how to inflate one's rubber chicken!  Teams were to use their chickens as relay batons.

I set off on my first lap, watching Husbando vanish into the distance ahead of me.  After two weeks of relative inactivity it felt good to be running, but it was hard work on my legs and my lungs.  I knew that if I was to survive I would have to be careful.  I walked the uphills from the first lap.  There were only 2 hills really and the second one was, in normal conditions, a very 'runnable' hill.  It suffered from the fact that you could see its entire length for ages before you got to it.  Anyway - I walked the hills, and they were in the first part of the lap, which meant that you got the worst bit done early on and could enjoy the rest.   As always, the White Star Running 'Lovestation' played an important role - and unlike most races we got to enjoy it multiple times!  The marshals were friendly and cheerful, remembering runners from previous laps and encouraging them to keep going.

At the end of each lap I popped in to the marquee to see who was there and have a cup of tea.  It was a wee bit chilly out on the course in the early stages and I looked forward to my nice cup of tea, I'd also get a bit of a sit down and a chance to gossip.  I met up with friends from parkrun and a lady I met at Salisbury 5,4,3,2,1 earlier this month.

Back out on the route, I kept remembering why I don't like trail running!  All these lovely views and all I was doing was looking at my feet to make sure I stayed upright.  And lots of the views were shrouded in cloud.  And it was raining.  And at the top of a hill where you turned a corner the wind was a bit chilly when your clothes were soaked!  As the day went on it did stop raining, and I changed out of my wet top into a clean and dry one.  The ground underfoot was 'claggy' - we ended up carrying half of Dorset round on our shoes.

After one lap Husbando and I had a lunch break.  A quick trip to the hog roast stand, with me protesting that I couldn't possibly eat a whole roll and then eating the whole thing in record time, washed down with full fat Coke!   Husbando is adamant that I was slower on my lap than he anticipated and his team mate was faster than they had thought she was going to be and that he had to bolt his food, but no sooner had we finished our food than we were off again.  I think that this was my 7th lap - and the one I needed to do to get another marathon done.  About halfway around Husbando and his lunch parted company.  That slowed us down quite a bit, as I was uncharacteristically charitable and waited for him!   Not one single runner passed him without asking if he was OK.

At the end of this lap I carried straight on.  I had the impression that the rest of the team were ready to call it a day and I wanted to get one last lap in before we left.  If the weather had been better I am sure we'd have spent a lot longer there, but the weather was never great!  Anyway - I finished the last lap with a little spurt of speed that surprised the two blokes I was running with at that point (it is easy to put on speed when you have been taking it easy all day) only to find that I could have got a 9th lap in as the team had a lap and a half to go!    Still, 31 and a bit miles were in the bag - not to be sniffed at!


I collected my fabulous medal and goodie bag (lovely biscuits and my very own rubber chicken!) and grabbed another cup of tea.  The weather seemed to be improving at last, or maybe wearing a hoodie to keep me warm was working!  I was pleased to be at the finish to see a lady I'd run with for a while finish her first ever marathon.  I do believe that lapped marathons like this make running much easier.  It is far easier to think of running 7 laps than ticking off each mile.  And I am pretty sure that, left to my own devices, I would just keep on running laps thinking 'oh, I can manage one more' until I got timed out!

We had thought of staying over so that we could take part in the "Chaos Run" on Bank Holiday Monday, but hotel rooms were hard to find by the time we thought about booking and the idea of camping while not well did not appeal, so we headed home after a great day out.

Thank you to the WSR team for another great day out in Dorset.

5,4,3,2,1

I approached this marathon feeling poorly prepared.  I hadn't run more than about 13 miles since the Giant's Head Marathon, but I knew that I was capable of plodding around within the generous cut off time.  Then I got a cough.  About a week and a half ago I started coughing.  A nasty, dry cough with accompanying tickley throat.  I didn't feel too bad most days, although I had absolutely no desire to run, but the nights were awful.  Some days, however, I have been feeling really grim.  Thursday last week saw me barely able to get out of bed all day.  There was no way I wanted to run at all - let alone run a marathon!

So, why did I turn up for the Salisbury 5,4,3,2,1 marathon?  Was it because it raised money for a good cause?  Or that I might get to hug a fireman?  Did it have something to do with the promise of beautiful scenery?  No, it was purely because a friend was celebrating running her 100th marathon and I wanted to be there with her.  

Getting to the start was nice and easy - park in the field opposite the fire station, pick up race number from the fire station - simples!  The race started right next to the car park, so I left my bag in there rather than faffing around with the bag storage.  Not too much walking around involved, which was a good thing because, having done a parkrun the day before to test the legs after a week off running, my quads were trying to tell me that they'd already done a marathon!  

Because we were celebrating a 100th marathon there was a theme for the day.  We were all to wear tartan - for a lot of us this meant kilts!  Luckily, cheap, shortish kilts available on Amazon, so it wasn't an expensive option, but it was a rather warm option!  Possibly ok for a midwinter run, but yesterday it was rather warm.  The best thing about my kilt was that it was purple.   That is probably the only good thing about it really!  The flappiness of it annoyed me, as did the chaffiness as it rubbed away around my waist (it was a bit too big for me), but at least it was purple!

As we gathered for the start we posed for silly photos, there are some photos somewhere of us a load of kilt wearing maniacs in front of a fire engine... and yes I did get to hug a fire man!  The ultra race (50k) set off at 9.30am and we left at 10am.  This late start meant that I didn't have to get up at sparrow fart to get there, but is did make me giggle a bit.  We had all received comprehensive pre-race information packs, which included information about precautions to take when running in hot weather.  One of the sensible, and obvious pieces of advice was to run early in the day...  

It was already warm by 10am.  But hey ho, in for a penny, in for 26.2(ish - more of that later) miles!  I decided not to run with a group.  I had low expectations, speedwise, for this race but I didn't want to feel pressurised to run at someone else's pace.  My only aim was to get round in 'about 6hrs.'  This would be a massive personal worst for me - but it was designed to make me take it easy.  I also like the serendipity of falling into and out of conversations with all sorts of people along the way.  

My plan was to walk the hills and run the flats and downhills.  And there were quite a lot of hills, so I did quite a lot of walking.  My chest hurt, my legs hurt, the kilt was annoying me, my key was making a clicking noise in my back pocket.  I was properly grumpy for a lot of the time!  As I ran along I kept thinking 'on my next walk break I will sort that key out and take this kilt off.'  However, as they didn't annoy me when walking I forgot until I started running again - oops!

The water stations were fairly frequent and the marshals were friendly.  I saw lots of familiar faces on my way around and I was not adverse to stopping for a chat with people I recognised at the side of the route.  Anything that stopped me having to run, I also had a chat with all the volunteers at the water stations too.  There were some long old hills, which was great - more opportunities for walking.  There was some stunning scenery, some challenging sections that were tricky underfoot and a bit more road than I had anticipated in a trail marathon.  We ran past the very beautiful Longford Castle and through the surrounding estate - a really stunning part of the route, the views from Combe Bissett Down were also breathtaking - the photos on that link do not do it justice.

Despite the beautiful surroundings and the lovely marshals I was definitely not having a good time.  The smiles were definitely only for the camera!  I began to think that this would be my first ever DNF.  I mean, what was the point in this running lark?  I'd just keep going for another mile and see how it went.  As I crossed one of the stiles, while I had one leg on the stile and one in the air, an impatient runner barged across the stile.  How lovely for him to have such long legs that he can bound across the stile, but such a shame that he had no manners at all.  And then I was at 13 miles (according to the markers and 13.5 miles according to my Garmin) so that was half way as near as dammit, and it may have taken me just over two and a half hours but I was now sure that I would at least finish....  even though I knew I would be even slower in the second half.  My legs hurt, my chest hurt, my voice was not working and it was only going to get harder.   Lots of people around me seemed to be having a tough time too.  Lots and lots of runners  were walking - that made me feel slightly better about shuffling along.

At some point the mile markers disappeared.  I think it was at around 21 miles.  Several people had said that the marathon was 'slightly long' but that the 50k was spot on.  I thought, from my earlier Garmin to mile marker comparisons that we were looking at about 26.8miles.  We ran down from the racecourse and back into Salisbury, along the river bank and up to the Cathedral.  The cathedral grounds were very busy with lots of tourists (and maybe even some worshippers - it being Sunday!) so there was a fair bit of weaving around and avoiding small children and dogs and pushchairs and then I was out into Salisbury city centre... with absolutely no idea which direction I was supposed to be going it.  There were loads of people - but they were all 'civilians' - I couldn't see a high viz jacket or a sign anywhere, and I couldn't see any other runners.  I was convinced I was lost and stood looking around for what seemed like an eternity.  Suddenly someone came up to me and pointed me in the right direction - he'd done the half earlier in the day.    At this point my watch said I was over the 26 mile point, but I had no idea how far I still had to go.  Was it half a mile?  In which case I should maybe muster a bit of a shuffle (to call it running would be optimistic).  I was grumpier than grumpy by now.  I just wanted this to be OVER!

I crossed a road and the marshall said that there was 200m left to run.  I didn't believe her (sorry!) but as I turned to the left and there, at last was the finish line!   My watch said that it had taken me 5hrs36mins to run 27.2 miles, so not quite a personal worst for a marathon.

There is a reason that they tell you not to run when you are ill.  It makes everything so much harder.  Today I am paying the price, my legs hurt, I'm coughing up a storm and I am exhausted, but marathon number 15 is done!

I wouldn't have missed my friend's 100th marathon for the world though.  So much laughter, lots of cake, beer and champagne.  There was also pizza later on and a chance for a good chinwag and to meet new people before hobbling home.  Thank you so much for asking me to come along - and good luck for the next 100....

parkrun de Mandavit

It has been a while since I've run a parkrun.  School events, travel arrangements and races on Saturdays have conspired against me being on the start line at 9am.  The last week has seen me getting up at sparrow fart in an attempt to get something resembling a run done before the weather became too oven like (it hit 107F here on Wednesday).  I've 'run' slowly, with that nagging sense that I'd never be able to run fast again.  It is rather hilly around Saussignac so that might be part of the reason.

Today we got up early, and were in the car by 7am for an hour and a half drive to Bordeaux.  parkrun de Mandavit had been chosen as our destination as the course description sounded more picturesque than the other Bordeaux based parkrun.  We found the car park easily, arriving with plenty of time to spare, asked some men in running attire if we were in the right place for parkrun and they pointed us in the right direction, with mutters about 'the mad English!'  Off we trotted towards the start..... it was 8.45am and there was none of the normal pre parkrun hustle and bustle to be seen.  Were we in the right place?  We trotted off for a little look around, and found some parkrun arrows... but nothing that looked like a start.  We found other parkrunners though... which was as much help as a chocolate teapot as they were also here on holiday too (from Alice Holt, Conkers and Rushmore parkrun amongst others) and were as clueless as we were.  And then, at about 8.55am, a flag and a run briefing.  The run briefing was done in English as the majority of the runners were English, with a very quick check that the French runners knew what they were doing.

And then, after a count down (in English!) we were off.  Two laps through the park, mainly in woodland, mostly on dusty trail paths with the odd tree root to avoid, just a short stretch of tarmac.  Some how the course seemed to be predominantly downhill.  I don't remember running up hill at all, although I kept thinking 'I must hold something back as we are going to have to go up again at some point.'   There was a little bridge that meant I had to slow down to a walk (because I am a chicken about bridges at the best of times and this one was a glorrified plank), but other than that and a missed turning at one point it was quite straightforward.

With only 28 runners there were long periods of time when I was running on my own, but there were lots of other runners in the park.  As I puffed by on my second lap, regretting setting off too fast and desperately trying to hold on to my position as first woman with no idea how close the second lady was, one French gentleman said (in English) 'You can do it!  I am 58 and I can run!'  I struggled with my school girl French to tell him that I have 5 children and I am exhausted!

I did hold on to that first woman place (by 18 seconds), despite coming around the building where I expected to find the finish funnel only to see that it was a lot further to go than I thought.  Husbando, who finished 6 places ahead of me, shouted 'Get a move on, she's catching you!'  which meant that I pushed a bit harder and thought I might just collapse on crossing the line!

At the finish, there was free coffee and BN biscuits.  A bit of chat with the organisers, visitors and some of the local participants and the volunteers followed before we went into Bordeaux for some touristy sightseeing.

It is a real shame that more locals don't take part.  There were loads of runners using the park, but not park running (only 6 of today's participants had run at parkrun de Mandavit before).  Is parkrun seen as something quirkily English?  I don't know, but hopefully more and more will start to take part.

Facilities in the park: convenient free parking (at least I hope it was free, I didn't pay!) remember to remove bikes from the roof though! There is one loo - but it is one of those nice 'self cleaning' ones, so worth waiting for the queue to go down.  There is a typical French pissoise on the other side of the loo building - but I didn't investigate that!

Thank you to the organisers for a great parkrun - I hope that this lovely venue goes from strength to strength!

Hills, medals, cakes, hills and bells... oh and more hills!

This is the race I said I'd never do again.  It was the first trail marathon I had ever run and I swore it would be my last.  So why was I back in Sidling St Nicholas?  Because I seem to be suffering a case of runner's amnesia!  I travelled down with my running partner in crime from last year and Husbando.    Husbando had been swayed by the promise of a nice B&B and I had neglected to mention that he would be in a village with virtually no mobile phone coverage and no wifi.

Friday night traffic meant we just made it to the village hall in time for our pre-ordered meals cooked by the lovely ladies from the WI .  One of the ladies came over and chatted to us - she remembered us from last year - and told us that she and her husband would be out on the course to support us in the morning.  We collected our numbers, had a look at the finish area and checked into our B&B at The Grey Hound pub, drank some beer, ate some chips and went to bed.   We were all of 2 minutes' walk from the race HQ, so popping out for a WI breakfast and back for a last minute wee before the race the next morning meant that we could avoid the dreaded portaloos! Husbando had entered the Sydling Hill Run rather than the marathon, so he came down with us to the start and took our jumpers back to the room.  After a race brief we all gathered on the race began.  

I had no real 'plan' for this race. I was still tired from Endure 24, and my legs had felt heavy and sluggish on every run I had done since then.  But, at Giant's Head it really isn't about the time.  No one is going to use this race to get a good for age place in the London Marathon.  As with last year we were all walking within the first mile - that concrete hill has not got any easier!   

The hills were, as always, hugely challenging.  This year however the ground underfoot seemed even more challenging.  We've had more rain this year which meant that the vegetation was much more rampant.  The long grass sapped energy, nettles and brambles attacked bare legs and the stoney paths were ankle twistingly treacherous.  But it was such fun!  As someone who hates meeting new people, it always amazes me how happily I will chat to total strangers when out running.  Between chatting with other runners, looking down to check that my foot wasn't about to go down a rabbit hole the miles ticked by.  We ran past the Cerne Abbas Giant, and I stopped for a few seconds to chat with a friend who had come along to take photos.  We were 8 miles in and, although it was tough, I was feeling good.  I was running the downhill sections and the (very few) flat sections and using the hills as walk breaks.  It was humid and warm, but there was the odd cool breeze to cool us down.  The aid stations were plentiful, well stocked and the marshals running them were so friendly and encouraging.  

Even though I had run the race last year, there were vast sections that I just did not remember having seen before.  There was far more road than I remembered.  It was predominantly downhill which was a blessing, but very hard on the knees in trail shoes.  Some of the off road downhill sections were too steep for me to run down with anything like my normal enthusiasm for a downhill!  Soon my knees were complaining big time, and I began looking forward to hills so that I could walk for a while.  All around me people were adopting the same strategy so I didn't feel bad about it, and by the later stages of the race I would not have been able to run the hills even if I'd wanted to! The views from the tops of the hills were amazing - when I remembered to lift my eyes from the 6' in front of me to have a look.  

The World Famous Love Station was a sight for sore eyes - a chance to have a laugh and a joke, some cider or prosecco as well as the normal aid station fare of coke, squash, water, cake, crisps, sausages, jelly babies and water melon.  The Love Station also meant that we were almost, nearly, there.  Except I could not remember how long the race was.  Yes, I know it was a marathon, but this was a White Star Running marathon, and they do like to make sure you get value for money.  Was it 27 miles or 28?  I had no idea.  I looked at my watch and tried to work out whether I could beat my time from last year or not.  I tried to remember how many hills we had to go - couldn't remember that either!  I chatted with another runner who had run a similar time to me last year - he though that we could do it easily, I wasn't so sure.  

We got an incentive to run faster soon though.  The black, threatening clouds decided to dump their contents on us.  We were running up a slight incline on and exposed ridge.  The wind was blowing and the rain and hail were coming at us sideways.  It hurt when the rain hit my bare skin and rain and hail in my ear was deeply unpleasant!  We got to the last aid station (the one at 26.4 miles!) and they were hanging on to the frame of the gazebo to stop it blowing away!  We played an impromptu game of sardines as we tried to work out how many runners, marshals and food tables we could fit in one small gazebo.  The rain didn't look like it was going to stop and I was getting cold - because I was soaked to the skin and it was very windy - so I decided to plough on.  Just a downhill and an uphill and then another downhill to go.  The rain was very localised and reasonably short lived, other runners had no idea that there had been rain at all!

Running into the village and onto the green makes for one of the nicest race finishes ever!  So many people cheering the finishers over the line where we were all presented with our medals, t-shirts and buffs.  I crossed the line in 5hrs and 26 minutes - a 13 minute improvement on last year.  I was thrilled! Husbando was waiting for me - and bought me a small ice cream.  I am glad he didn't go for a medium or large as I think it may well have been bigger than me!  While I'd been running he had done the Sydling Hill Run, marketed as 10-ish km, and had come 11th so he was very pleased with himself.  I think he may even consider doing the marathon next year.   We cheered finishers home for a while before popping back to the pub to grab a shower.  We still managed to get back to the finish area to cheer the very excellent 'sweeper' over the line.  It is a measure of how tough this race is that there was only 1 person who finished in under 4 hours (and I think he only just got under the 4 hour mark).  I remember feeling a bit disappointed with my time last year, but this year I was very happy.

The evening was great fun.  Although drinking three and a half pints of beer after a marathon but before eating anything is probably not the most sensible idea I've ever had!  We ate chilli and rhubarb crumble prepared by the WI, chatted with friends, met new people and drank some more.  Some people did dancing - but I wasn't quite tipsy enough for that!  We had a slight Epipen emergency on the way back to our room.  Not mine, but I recognise an Epipen from about 50 paces and saw a young man at the side of the road with one.  Ambulances take a long time to get to rural Dorset villages - but eventually it got there and I hope he is now OK!  

After a good night's sleep we got up and into our running kit (clean set) again for yet another race.  This one was a short one though.  The Sydling Bell Race was organised to raise money for the village church - a really lovely way to say thank you to the people on the village.  It had a 'Le Mans start' in that we were separated from our running shoes so had to dash to find them as soon as the race started.  We then ran up to the top of a hill, did a task (in my case star jumps and push ups) claimed our cow bell medal  and ran back down the hill to the finish.  Reader, I will be honest - I did not run the whole way!  It may only have been 2.5 miles, but there was no way I was running up the steep bits of the hill!  It took me 27 minutes from the start (including finding my shoes and queueing for my task) and I was quite happy with that!  

It was an amazing running weekend!  I really do feel as though I've had a little holiday away from the real world.  I can't thank Andy from White Star Running and his band of helpers enough for everything that they did to make it such a success.   I just hope I get to do it all again next year.  And if I do, I must try to remember that the marathon is 27.2 miles long!

.  

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

I entered Endure 24 on a whim.  A friend of a friend had a solo place that he could no longer take up so we organised transferring it to me.  That was in November last year and, other than noting the date in my calendar, I didn't think much about it until a few weeks ago.  Of course I knew what Endure was, I'd seen my friends' Facebook posts about it in previous years and always thought that it looked interesting in a mad, no way would I do that sort of way.  But actually training for a 24 hour endurance race as a solo athlete was so far outside my comfort zone that I couldn't even begin to comprehend what it might involve. 

Pre race info was sketchy in parts.  What were these 'solo wrist bands' that some people were talking about?  How much did they cost?  What did they cover?  I relied on the knowledge of friends who had taken part in previous years for information, without their insight I would have been even more nervous than I already was!  The confusion carried on when I arrived at the site on Friday evening with Husbando to pitch my tent.  There were no marshals to direct us at the entry, so we followed a sign that said 'Solo camping' and found ourselves in a mass of tents, so assumed we had found the correct place, pitched the tent (in high heels and a dress as I had come straight from work) and then discovered we were in the 'small teams area' and a fair walk from the start.  So down came the tent.

Luckily my 'non-specific deities' (NSDs) were out in force this weekend, and just as we were contemplating the move a friend from parkrun came along and carried my airbed so that we didn't have to deflate it to get it in the car.  After pitching the tent again, bending more tent pegs, borrowing better pegs from yet more of my NSD friends and having a gossip with a few people I headed home for a good night's sleep in a proper bed.  At some point in the evening we managed to find out that a wrist band could be purchased (£35) that allowed solo runners to get unlimited food during the 24 hours of the race and to go to the front of the queue in the catering tent.  Husbando decided that this was a good idea, as I was going to be on my own for much of the time without anyone crewing for me.  It took some detective work though as there were no signs up about the band - this meant that I felt guilty every time I made my way to the front of the queue to get a cup of tea and a bacon roll!

Saturday morning, nervous and panicking, I arrived back at Wasing Park.  I faffed around with my kit in the tent, I chatted with friends - who made me cups of tea, I ate breakfast with another friend who was marshalling the event, and then I sat outside my tent and read my book.  I don't really remember much of what I read at all!  I was too anxious to get on with running.  Waiting until 12 noon seemed like torture, but there were more people arriving all the time. 


EDITED 14/06/16:  A brief explanation of 'non-specific deities!'  About a week or two before Endure I had a bit of a flap on Facebook as I realised that I was going to be a 'solo solo!'  Husbando was not able to be there for long at all as he had work, school fete and child care responsibilities (the children have a negligent mother who dashes off to run silly distances at the weekend!) so I was on my own.  One of my friends, part of last year's winning team, said I would need to trust to my non-specific deities to get me through.  Turns out there are a lot of very lovely people out there who all deserve the title.

The start of the race was well worth waiting for.  Simply the best race start I have ever experienced.  The first runner for each team assembled on the start line with all the solo runners, but every single runner from all the teams seemed to be at the start, along with all the supporters.  The first 300m was an absolute wall of noise, quite an emotional experience really.  I really had to struggle not to get carried away by the support and stick to a slow pace.

Laps 1 to 3 (each 5 miles) were fairly fast and great fun.  My lap splits on the results page include the time I spent between each lap grabbing a drink, changing shoes (trail shoes were not necessary) and sorting out underwear malfunctions, so are not really representative of my pace at all.  Lap 4 was run with my lovely, bubbly friend.  I had told myself that, if I bumped into a friend who ran at a slower pace than I did then I would run at their pace, so we walked and ran and chatted - generally putting the World to rights.  I completed lap 4 just as 4 hours of the race had gone, and went to the catering tent to grab a cup of tea and a sausage baguette.  Lap 5 was great, had a chat with another of my NSDs after that - poor lady had to watch while I cleaned off my disgustingly dusty feet so that I could put compeed on a blister and I think it was at the end of this lap that I ran an 8.50 minute/mile with my airbed carrying friend.  Lap 6 was run with the husband of my lovely, bubbly friend from lap 4 -  started that lap before him, as he was waiting for a team mate to come in,  and said that I would walk until he caught me up.  2 years ago he thought he would never run again due to knee problems, but now he is running Endure!  Well done.  A quick change of clothing (sleeves needed as getting chilly and head torch needed)  before setting off for lap 8 with a much speedier friend who has been so kind and supportive this weekend.  I told him that we were walking all hills and just running the flats and the down hills.  We ran and chatted, walked and chatted and still managed a lap in 59 minutes.  I loved that lap.  At that point I thought I could go on forever.

Then lap 9.  Properly dark.  Running with a head torch makes me feel as though I am running in a jiggly tunnel.  It is isolating and disorientating.  I thought I had adopted the same strategy as in the previous lap, but obviously the fairies in the Fairy Wood and the glitter distracted me and it took me an hour and 25 minutes.  I knew I didn't want to run in the dark again, in fact I wasn't sure I wanted to run again all weekend.  As I finished lap 9 I saw Husbando waiting near the solo support tent.  He, blinded by the head torch, didn't see me!  We grabbed some food and chatted.  I decided that I was going to get a massage and then go to bed for a few hours.  I had run 10 miles further than I had ever run before, it was little wonder I was tired.  It didn't make sense for him to hang around - we only had a single air mattress and I was in no mood for sharing - so he went back to a friend's house in Basingstoke where he could sleep comfortably but still be close enough to get back in a hurry if I needed him.

My massage was lovely, my shoulders had become really tight and my legs very heavy.  The massage loosened all that up.  Layers of dust and insect repellent had to be removed from my legs, which was just as well as otherwise they would have been transferred to my sleeping bag!  Retiring to my tent I was convinced I wouldn't sleep at all.  But after a few minutes of listening to other people's conversations I nodded off, to be awoken at 4 by my alarm.  I felt surprisingly good for having had 3.5 hrs in bed and having notched up 45 miles the day before.  I grabbed my head torch, ate a cereal bar, drank some water, laced up my shoes and went out for a dawn run!

This lap was magical.  There were far fewer runners now than on my previous laps and it was dawn.  The music had gone and, while the VDUB bar/disco had cranked out some great tunes at the bottom of Heartbreak Hill, listening to the dawn chorus was magical.  I was amazed at how easy I found it to walk and run.  I was convinced at this point that  I would exceed my 'stretch target' of 70 miles with ease.  I sent Husbando a text to say that I was up and running and suggested breakfast might be a good idea after lap 11 (my next lap) and merrily set off for my next lap.

Such bravado was short lived.  Before I got to the 2k marker I was convinced that if I didn't get a cup of tea and a slice of millionaire's shortbread soon I would actually die.  Not a metaphorical death, an actual death.  Trouble was that the laps are 8km long.  Even in the state I was in, I knew that I had a fair way to go before I could get my hand on a cup of tea.  It wasn't until later that I realised that I had probably hit the wall.  This had never happened to me.  All I knew was that a) I needed tea and millionaire's shortbread and b) if I stopped moving for an instant it would be impossible for me to start moving again.  I plodded on, repeating the phrase 'relentless forward progress' in my head - at least I hope it was in my head!  Just after the 7k marker, or just before I'm not sure, another solo runner asked me if I was OK.  I said yes, but he was wise to me.  The fact that I was swaying and actually closing my eyes much in the same way you sometimes do on a long motor way drive only to jerk awake seconds later may have been a clue.  He walked with me and talked at me to get me back to the race village.  I don't know his name, but if anyone does, please pass on my heartfelt thanks.  I know that, if the St John's Ambulance people had picked me up instead of him, there would have been a very real possibility of them stopping me running altogether.  He was running to raise money for Royal Star and Garter Homes and had walking poles with him - so if you know him please tell him that I say thank you!  It says something about how out of it I was that I struggled to recognise my best friend at the end of this lap!  She was waiting for a team mate to finish so she could go out on her lap but called out to me as I finished... I sort of waved at her (to be polite) but the person I recognised was standing behind her - Mr K - who has  run Comrades twice (back to back years) and who is one of my running inspirations.


Tea and millionaire's shortbread with Husbando followed.  These accompanied by a handful of salt and vinegar crisps and a banana seemed to do the trick.  I had completed 11 laps, 13 laps would mean I had run over 100km (65 miles).  But I don't like uneven numbers, so I was determined to push on to do 14 laps and 70 miles.  That meant 3 more laps and I had nearly 5 hours left on the clock. I walked lap 12 with a friend, only running a couple of the downhill sections, walk ran lap 13 - this lap was followed with a quick second (or was it third or fourth?) breakfast with Husbando and the friend I now recognised, before setting out to walk run, the last lap.  It was simultaneously sad and a relief to think that this was the last time I would run through Faraway Forest and Shotgun City, Little Steep and Heartbreak Hill would no longer be something to anticipate with dread.  I made a point of thanking all the marshals who had supported us throughout the 24 hours.  I crossed the line about 10 minutes before the 24 hours up.  Technically I could have gone out for a 15th lap, but I'd achieved what I wanted to do, as Husbando said, 75 would be a tougher target to beat next time.  The finish was great, but not as great as the start, although it did have the distinct advantage that it meant I didn't have to spend the next day running!

And, talking about next time.... On Friday evening when Husbando suggested we got together with friends and entered a team I thought this was a brilliant idea.  By Sunday lunchtime I was convinced that the only way I would want to do this event was as a solo runner.  It was incredibly tough, mentally more than physically, at times, but I really enjoyed the feeling of camaraderie amongst the runners and the ability to run (or walk) when I wanted to rather than to a schedule.  Hopefully we'll sort out a team for him and I enter as a solo.  I've tried to sell this to him on the basis that we can run some laps together this way... we shall see...

A HUGE thank you to all the people who helped me out.  Looking back it all seems to have happened a long time ago, and it felt like a real break from the world.  I don't think I heard the 'R' work mentioned once, although the football did intrude somewhat with a massive screen showing the England:Russia match!  I've learnt so many lessons that should, hopefully, ensure I enjoy any future 24 hour race even more than this one.

The one where I started too fast and just kept going.

So, what does one do after running a marathon?  Rest, get a massage, eat all the food in the county?  I did the second and third, in fact I am continuing to do the third item on that list as I type, but I was also signed up for a race today.  I've done the Bupa 10,000m every year for the last six so I wasn't going to let a little thing like change of sponsors stop me running it again.  Despite the fact that it is now the Vitality 10,000m most people (me included) still seem to be calling it by its old name!

After a beautifully warm day yesterday, with no running (don't Sunday's seem very long with no running and no prep work for school the next day?) this morning was cold and grey.  I hastily shoved a pair of long tights into my race bag and headed off to London town.  Every station saw more lycra clad bodies embark.  I snoozed and faffed around on my phone, I groaned as I stepped down from the train as my quads screamed at me, groaned some more (ok, lots more) as I struggled down the steps to the ladies' loos and was instantly cheered when I saw that the barrier had been propped open so that I could just walk in rather than paying 30p to spend a penny!  And there was loo roll!  The day was looking up!

The lovely Caz being photo bummed

Thence, on the underground, to Green Park.  To say it was congested would be an understatement.  I suspect that the situation wasn't helped by the inability of the vast majority of the runners to walk up the escalator!  The Jubilee Line isn't a deep station.  Arriving in Green Park the feeling of congestion continued - it was very busy.  By chance I bumped into some friends and saw some sights that can't be unseen!  Still - we had a giggle, proving that we are totally mature and respectable.   It was jolly chilly as we hung around, so pretty quickly we decided to stow our bags and think about warming up.  We got separated on the way to the bag drop - as I spotted another friend and went over to say hello, so I dropped my bag and joined the loo queue.  It was a HUGE queue and there were only 25 minutes until the start of the race.  I wasn't convinced I would make it to the front of the queue before I needed to start running - so when I saw yet another friend I left the queue and went with them to the start, convincing myself I really didn't need that last nervous wee!

John in a moonlit Green Park

In previous years each starting pen has been separated into three zones: A, B and C.  That was not the case this year so each pen contained runners with vastly different anticipated finish times.  I was in the front starting pen - a first for me - and feeling far from confident.  I was pointed in the direction of 'my friend' and looked over to see another brave soul/total idiot in a Kent Roadrunner vest.  I must have seen him several times on Saturday - but we hadn't actually met before.  We chatted, had a photo taken, agreed that we were both as mad as a box of frogs.  I explained that I was going to try to maintain my marathon pace (about 9min/mile) and see if I could survive.

And then we were off.  After about 400m I looked at my watch and though 'Woah lady!  Ease off!' so I did, only managing to slow down to 7.57 for the first mile.  It hurt, it hurt a lot, but I was able to move.  I clicked through the miles (I don't do kilometres!) and they were all under 8min/mile.  I was astounded.  I kept waiting for the wheels to come off, but they didn't.  I passed a runner with a shirt that said 'Race official - do not pass' on the back.  I got to the 5km mark in about 24.50 and though - I can do 10 minute miles now and still be under an hour! But I just carried on running.  Back along the Strand, down past the Houses of Parliament and then round to Birdcage Walk and the '800m to go' sign.  That was when the wheels really started to wobble.   I was not going to slow down now, but I really struggled to keep going.  I swear that the gap between the 800m and the 400m signs was well over 700m.  At the 400m sign I could see the 200m sign, and by the time I got to the 100m sign I could see the wonderful, beautiful finish.  I didn't care about the scenic backdrop of Buckingham Palace - all I had eyes for was that finish mat!  I was done.  And in under 50 minutes.  Far better than I'd anticipated!

The medal is quite nice - double sided, and the goody bag wasn't too shabby.  I still think the old route, through Leadenhall Market and along the Embankment, was better, but to be honest I was too busy concentrating on running to take in the sights!  Next year is the 10th running of this race - so no doubt I'll be back again.

A tale of sacrificial buffs and over reliance on technology.

 I had a score to settle with this race.  Last year I had an awful time and had sworn that I would never enter it again.  That resolve lasted all of about 5 minutes as a friend threatened to snag my number if I didn't do it!  I wanted to run this year's event for fun.  At Paris in April  I had put myself under enormous pressure to run a sub 4 marathon, which for various reasons did not happen.  I was despondent and very self critical for a while.  Yesterday I decided that I was just going to go out and run - I gave myself permission to walk from the cones on 'Tourette's Hill' to the fence at the top if I wanted to.  I did not print a pace band as I did not want to feel I had a target to meet.

It was cold and raining when we arrived at the Cyclopark.  When I'd packed my bag I had relied on the BBC Weather forecast so had no rain jacket, thankfully I'd thrown a cap in at the very last minute, so it was sunglasses off and cap on.  I set off with the friend I ran with last year.  We chatted and ran, ran and chatted and, for me, the time was passing very pleasantly.  Not so for her unfortunately.  It turned out to be a reversal of last year - we parted company at about 11 miles again, having averaged around 8.50 min/miles, I left my friend by the personal drink station table we had set up and ran on alone.  It had stopped raining just before the start of the race and had become warm and humid but still overcast.  On one of the slight inclines of the lapped course there was a slight breeze which was lovely, after that it was a downhill towards two of the most amazing marshals ever - Neil and Les - I asked them to keep a look out for my friend and next time round was reassured that she was doing OK.  After this, on 20 consecutive laps, came Tourette's Hill.  Let me assure you, it is wisely named!  The stretch up to the finish area is slightly uphill - but enlivened by two aid stations, loads of supporters, including the most energetic, loud, curly haired girl on the bridge who was cheering and shouting out names as we passed below.

I was feeling good, I'd settled into a steady 9min/mile pace (according to my watch) that I was more than happy with and just settled down to keep on until the end.  In my mind I knew that 9 min/mile pace would give me just sub 4hrs, just enough sub 4hrs to allow, I hoped, for Garmin's notorious inaccuracy on lapped courses.  I slowed down a few times to check that other runners were OK - a friend from Basingstoke parkrun had lapped me a couple of times, so I was shocked when I lapped him.  We had a brief chat then, and I seem to recall that, later on, I walked backwards up a hill while asking him if he was ok!  I slowed again to help a lady who felt sick.  I say 'help,' what I actually did was stop, ask if she was OK, ask if she would like some water, gave her my water bottle and then ran on.  Half a lap later I remembered that it was my favourite water bottle and I had no idea who she was!

At some point the heaven't opened and we got a proper drenching!  I felt sorry for the supporters then as standing around in the rain is far more miserable than running in it.  I don't think it lasted longand after the rain we had bright, hot sunshine and a lot less humidity!  This is where having a personal drinks station was great - it meant I could change from cap to sunnies and back again without deviating from the route.  I was running and chatting and smiling and running - having a great time.  My right quad, which had been tight all week, was still tight, but that was more than countered by the pain in my left foot from the Morton's neuroma, so at least I was fairly balanced!   The new course, shorter laps but more of them, was great, the laps seemed to tick by very quickly.

There's a saying amongst long distance runners, 'Never trust a fart after 20 miles.'  With this in mind I took advantage of the conveniently located, track side, portaloos.   Too late I realised that there was no loo roll!  This was a bit of a catastrophe. I had a £10 note in my pocket (although I'd forgotten about that at the time) but there wasn't a scrap of anything remotely loo roll like anywhere to hand.  I considered sacrificing a sock - but with about 6 miles to go that seemed like the way to ensure blisters.  Then I saw my lovely, lovely White Star Running buff around my wrist.  Needs must etc.  I can buy a new one.  I have long thought that some one should make a buff which has a perforated strip along one end for just this sort of situation.

Back out on the road again, I found my legs had started to stiffen up a little during my comfort break.  I looked at my watch and figured I should be able to get sub 4 if I could just maintain my pace.  I realised too late (i.e. the end of my penultimate lap) that my Garmin was way off the mark and that I wouldn't be able to get back enough time in one lap!  According to Garmin, I passed the 26.2 mark in 3hrs 57min - but I still had a way to go.  I eventually got to the finish line in 4hrs 4mins and some seconds with my lying Garmin reading 26.9 miles.

Oddly, given how upset I was after Paris, I was not at all disappointed.  I'd set out to have a good time, not to run a good time.  I'd had a great time running with amazing people, supported by yet more amazing people and my time wasn't too shabby either!  It had been my most evenly paced marathon to date too, not perfect by any means - but there is no 18 mile dip in pace (this is normally where I get bored with the idea of running and my pace plummets).  So all in all a good day at the office.  I was given my humungous medal, my quirky goody bag, brand new and gorgeous buff (that will never be sacrificed!) bottle of beer and went to have my photo taken by the amazing Stuart, who can make a silk purse out of a sow's ear and me look halfway decent after a 26.2 miles.  Then it was time for a quick, painful, sports massage with a lovely student from the University of Kent before going back outside to chat and cheer and support other runners.

This is such a lovely race for chatting with and getting to know other people.  You see the supporters every time you go around the track, they feel like members of your family by the end.  If you are suffering they will give you a hug and a few words of encouragement to spur you on your way.  I remember thinking that the runners were all really considerate and polite.  There was lots of lapping going on, but there runners seemed to pass each other without any of the agro you sometimes see in big city races and, dare I say it, parkrun.

So, a HUGE thank you to all at tzruns, and to all the marshals and supporters, especially the girl with curly hair on the bridge.  You are all amazing and I had a great time.  Same again next year?   I can't wait that long, so will be back in Kent for the first Kent Coyote marathon in September.