When: 19th July 2014
Organiser: Threshold Sports
Course details: Along the Ridgeway
Distance(s): 100km
Marshalling: Lots
Facilities: Food stops, drink stops every 10km or so
Technical: Chip timing (halfway and full distance)
Freebies: Medal
This was my first foray into the dark interior of ultra-distance. Signed up on the back of an enthusiastic post from a fellow forumite looking to put a BCTTT team together. In the event, the team comprised of just myself
) Not a problem of course, I think in essence I’m a lone runner anyway and to be frank, I wouldn’t have been great company towards the latter stages! Right, first things first. Logistics. I took the option of parking at the finish and taking the shuttle bus to the start on the day. This involved getting a hotel for the night as it was a 5am bus ride. Hotel was perfect, out in the sticks and quiet. Arrived there Friday afternoon and immediately tipped everything onto the floor in order to sort my bags out for the day. Quickly popped out to panic buy some last minute bits, then back to the hotel for a packing and a quick test run round the hotel grounds. I’d gone for the Ultimate Direction ‘Scott Jurek’ race vest. Allows for two bottles on the front, plenty of easy access pockets for energy bars and room in the back for rainproof, blister plasters, pain relief, sun cream, vaseline spare socks and phone. I’d recently bought a pair of Salomon X-scream to run in as they were a road/trail shoe with more cushioning than any of my other trainers. This was the best decision I made. Despite only running a few miles in them they were great. Test run fully loaded round the hotel felt good but noticed some redness on my chest and decided to use rocktape to avoid any issues of chafing. Also taped my Achilles which had been annoying me for many weeks.
To be honest, my hopes for the day weren’t great. My longest run was 24 miles which was approx. 8 weeks before the event. I’d not got near that since and the final three weeks were no running at all. My left hip had been a problem along with my Achilles and I was expecting one or both to force me out at some point. Oh well, nothing ventured and all that. After the test run I showered, set out my breakfast for the next morning (porridge, banana, croissant, red bull), then headed to the hotel bar for fish and chips and a lime/soda. Fish and chips were awesome! The perfect pre-race meal. After that back to the room for r&r and lights out at 9pm for a 3:15 alarm. Great.
Alarm went off and force myself upright. I’d slept well, even dreaming of the race… In the dream I’d asked a fellow competitor “How do I know which way to go?” they replied “Just follow the grass”. Weird. The promise of torrential rain that had threatened all week hadn’t transpired thankfully. A few heavy showers but for now everything was looking slightly more optimistic than I’d hoped. I’m not great at eating early so breakfast was a case of forcing it down for the greater good. I then double checked I’ve got everything, checked out and set off for the finish.
Car park was a farmers field. There were lots of other cars around.After half an hour or so, the bus pulled in and people emerged from their cars to form an orderly queue. I was checked in by one of the staff on hand offered water and banana, then onto the bus. Plan was to sleep for as much of the journey as possible and I think I managed it. Journey time was about 90mins and by the time we arrived I was back in muggy-headed sleepyland. Wake up Dave, you’ve got a lot to do today!
Registration was well organised and purchased a RTTS Buff for a tenner, then met up with a couple of work colleagues who were doing the 50/50 over Saturday and Sunday. A welcome distraction from thinking too much about the day ahead. After dropping a bag to be taken to the finish (no option to drop anything half way) it was pretty much offski time so joined the huddle of people squeezing onto the start chute. Then, at around 8.10am, we were off! Shuffling our way over the start line, out onto the road in Chinoor and working our way slowly up to the ridgeway. This took quite a while as the path narrows to a single track, then over a railway line, then on a single track up a hill. Spent most of the first mile walking which I wasn’t complaining about! This then broadened out to a wider muddy trail, and as the rain started to drizzle again the realisation of what lay ahead started to sink in. It was already hot and muggy and it was only going to get hotter. To avoid going into too much detail, I’ve split out what I can remember by the aid stations
Aid station 1 – Picked up a cereal bar, topped up bottles and carried on through feeling good.
Aid station 2 – Sandwiches and crisps available, so took both and sat down. My feet had already been thoroughly soaked, so took the time to dry my feet and change my socks. Sandwich went down a treat! Topped up bottles and was off again after about a 20min stop.
Aid station 3 – Stopped again, had an apple, sat down and checked my feet out. The apple was the best tasting apple I’ve ever had! Feet were good, chatted to a couple of people. It was at this point that I was actually starting to feel pretty fatigued. The terrain was a lot more technical than I was expecting and there wasn’t much flat either. Not hilly but rolling, so either up or down. There was a long section along a single track where there must have been 50+ people all in single file that nearly broke me.
Aid station 4 – Had a finger of fudge here. Got sprayed by a volunteer (bad idea as it washed all the salt off my head into my eyes). Topped up bottles. By now I was pretty much emptying both 500ml bottles (one water one nuun) between stations and I was also getting v. tired. Getting quite hot at this stage and getting sick of drinking warm drinks. By now though I knew that I was nearly half way so that gave me a little incentive to push on. I’d initially hoped to stick to a run 25min, walk 5min strategy, but the uphills quickly put paid to that. Pretty much settled on a walk uphills, run downhills and flats.
Aid station 5 – Slightly under halfway (48k) but welcome nonetheless. Grabbed myself some veggy pasta, a coca-cola and sat myself down. Man that felt good. Shoes and socks off, lovely! Spent some time texting friends and family to let them know I was still alive. After eating I changed my socks for fresh ones and had a bit of a chat with a guy from Romford. Really nice bloke with very similar motivation. He mentioned he was suffering with all the salt loss so I gave him a couple of nuun tablets. He was about to pop one in his mouth.. “Woah mate! You need to add them to water”. So, after about 30mins at the aid station I thought it was high time to be on my way… I was getting way too comfortable. Before I trotted on one of the medics came over and gave us all a gentle reminder that the trip to the next aid station was all open ground, and hot. Great!
Aid station 6 – On the way to this station at about mile 34, I was in the zone as I think most people around me were. Thank Jehovah for a girl called Michele who I’d chatted to already. She shouted to me that I was going the wrong way and pointed left up a field where the arrows were clearly pointing! We both shouted to the guys in front who’d already gone as far as we could see. I really hope there wasn’t anyone further on that we couldn’t see. Poor b##tards. It was becoming clear on this section that not only was I getting seriously tired (walking more than running), the aid station was further than 10km from the last one. At one point where I couldn’t see someone in front or behind, I seriously thought I’d gone wrong and started jogging back. Thankfully shortly after someone came round the corner. You’re going the right way Dave… it’s fine! Still, when the aid station came into view it was a huge relief. First things first, I was annoyed. The distance on the aid station said 61km. My garmin said reckoned 64. In the vast scheme of things 3km is nothing. But it played on my mind. Was the whole course out? Was I going to have to do 103km? Yeesh. Anyway, aid station was full of goodies, but I just opted for an orange cordial and filled my bottles. I was just about to set off, when a crack of lightning reeled across the fields, followed shortly after by a few drops of rain. Should I put on my rainproof? It was still very hot and muggy, so didn’t fancy it. Then the wind picked up… a lot, followed by another crack of lightning and with that came a hailstorm of biblicial proportions. Huge hailstones, bigger than marbles, and the wind… The aid station tent was starting to lift off the ground so every man and his dog was holding on. The ground was quickly covered in hailstones, runners arriving desparately trying to squeeze into the already overflowing tent and still the wind kept on. It felt like we were holding of for a long time, but could only have been 5-10mins. One of the portaloos went over (thankfully with no-one inside) and then, as quickly as it started it all finished. A few distant rumbles and a remaining drizzle was all that was left. New runners arriving looked like drowned kittens bless ‘em. Thank the gods I wasn’t one of them. That was quite exciting, but time to be on my way. Temperature had dropped significantly, so with the drizzle I opted for the rainproof (it came off again 20mins later). Trails were now properly wet and muddy. More fun. The chalky paths were like ice so having to concentrate on where you put your feet was even more exhausting.
Aid station 7 – Another welcome relief, not only for the water, energy bar and coke, but there was a lovely young lady volunteer. A cool drink of water for the eyes
) Had a little chat and was on my way. By now, the finish time was starting to tumble away from me. Walking had become my dominant form of travel and running was getting slower and less frequent. I needed to reassess and give myself something to work on so I resolved to run half a mile in every mile. Up-hills didn’t quite allow for a regimented cycle of this, but as long as I kept to it I could maintain a 12.5 minute mile pace, and hopefully be within a realistic chance of finishing before it got dark. First couple of miles went really well, third mile included a lovely long downhill section but what goes down must go up. A long section on road followed by a devilish trail which was basically a deep rut only wide enough for one foot. I slowed dramatically cursing the uphill, cursing the terrain and cursing myself. I pretty much accepted that this was it now. I was walking to the finish. I had over 14 miles to go and I was getting miserable and grumpy. By my reckoning if I walked the rest of the way I had at least 3 and a half hours to go! F##k me! I just wanted this over now. I wanted to stop!!! I’VE HAD ENOUGH!!! But there was nowhere to stop. The next aid station should be within a mile or so, but even then was I really going to quit? How would I get to the finish and my car? The quickest way to get home had to be to keep going. I had to finish just so I could get home sooner. At this point I was overtaken by a guy on a mountain bike. He had a bag full of glowsticks and was busily sticking them on trees, markers and turning points to light the way for the late finishers. They would be comforting for me in the hours to come.Aid station 8 – Soup and porridge available here amongst other things. As I arrived at the aid station, a medic took the time to ask how I was feeling and whether I had any injuries that needed treating. I stopped and had a think… I was feeling okay, tired obviously but no injuries and amazingly no blisters either! I had a gel just before the aid station (and nearly gagged). Took on two cups of coke and the aid station. And now, for only the second time all day I needed a wee. Took myself off to the portaloo. My wee looked like I’d had a berocca and in the confines of the wc I realised how much I stank. I smelt worse than the portaloo itself. Nice. I finished my business and trotted off again. 20km to go. I was assured that the next aid station was only 8km away, then it was only 12km after that to the finish. Aaaaah the finish… Still, with my current walking pace I still had over three hours ahead of me. F##k. The dark clouds began to circle again. Amazingly though, the next stretch included a long descent. Forcing myself to a trot I managed to knock out a 10.5 minute mile. Woohoo! Quickly settled back into a walk though, through a wooded section, bramble and nettle central here. Darkness was coming. I was forcing myself to keep in sight of three people in front. I didn’t want to get too close as I was in no mood for conversation, but I didn’t want to start doubting my navigation again. The remainder of the section was pretty flat thankfully and soon enough along came the last aid station. I noticed an older couple who I’d seen probably 4 or five times throughout the day. They were there with their daughter to support her boyfriend as it turns out. “You deserve a medal too!” I shouted. The mother replied “He lost his brother a few weeks ago… he needed the support”. I was an emotional wreck by now and I was fighting back the tears, but it also gave me strength too. For the moment things weren’t so bad. The aid station was in sight and I was 12km from the finish. Come on Dave… it could be worse.
Aid station 9 – 12km to go and best scenario is two hours of walking. Two hours! Doesn’t sound like much but it felt like such a long time. My quads were starting to hurt now so I decided to have a proper break before setting off. Had a sit down in a chair, more coke, an energy bar, changed my socks for fresh ones, got my headtorch out. And after that there was nothing left to do but get going again. So what to say about the last 12km? It got dark pretty quick, I wasn’t running any more. The cows made me laugh which had all congregated around a glowstick. The final stretch of 4 miles was f##king awful. Rutted, muddy, slippy. I could hear the guy behind me swearing and cursing as he continually slipped over. I felt his pain. I was pretty p1ssed off myself. Why didn’t they start at 7am??? Why are they trying to break my f##king ankles? Why am I so p1ssed off? Where’s the f##king finish? Really not enjoyable. Thankfully with 1 mile to go there was a right turn off that f##king hellhole of a trail. Or was there? I could see a couple of guys who’d gone straight on. F##k. Right, let’s have a think. I’m pretty sure I can see glowsticks in the distance, and is that other people making their way as well? Yep, it is. A quick whistle to the guys who’ve gone wrong and call them back. No thank you from them, but I forgive them. I was beyond conversation myself. So 1 mile to go and what’s this? Tarmac! Beautiful, clean, unsullied tarmac! I love you tarmac. I turn a corner and I can see it. The finish. I can hear cheers as the people ahead cross the line. So, this is it then. The culmination of a day that started at 3:15am… With 10 metres to go I manage a little run. Cross the line, get my medal. I walked on through the finish not stopping to chat to anyone. Make my way to the bag collection, get my bag, find my keys, find my car, kit in the boot, ease myself into the seat and drove the f##k home.
It took me 2hrs 15mins to get home. By the time I’d got everything in, got showered and got into bed it was 3am. I was up at 5.30am as I was too uncomfortable to sleep. The next couple of days were painful, but managed a swim Monday and Tuesday. Cycled to work Wednesday and feeling pretty good today. I’ve even started to kid myself that I enjoyed the day, or at least parts of it.
Race To the Stones. Done.
