After last year’s failed attempt to complete this 145 mile epic from Birmingham to London I was forced to rethink my strategy. Last year I had been forced to withdraw after 121 miles at Springwell Lock - not too far from the end, which prompted many people to ask, “why didn’t you just grit it out and finish?” The problem was my shin. Each step after about 100 miles was getting increasingly painful and although in the context of the race it seemed ‘nearly done’, I still had nearly a marathon to do. My conclusion from last year was that I’d created the shin problem as a result of my decision to walk a large stretch of the overnight section. I was running with a couple of veterans of the race and guys who’d completed the even tougher 150 Spartathalon and both suggested that walking the night section would leave me refreshed for the next day. But having not trained for walking, several hours of it proved enough for my anterior tibialis to rebel and inflame, reducing me to a rather feeble hobble and eventually to the rank of DNF.
So, a year later and I felt in fantastic shape fitness-wise as I hunkered down in my hotel room in Birmingham the night before. However, with the race playing over in my mind I couldn’t get any sleep (despite taking some herbal sleeping remedy) – not ideal when you know you’re going to be running for the next 2 days non-stop! At 5am, knackered, I trudged over to Gas Street Basin, the venue for the start of the race in a bit of mood. I registered and knocked back some GatoSport cake before taking my position at the start. Organiser Dick Kearn said a few things (inspirational stuff I’m sure but I can’t remember a word of it!) and we were off. I headed the pack down the first section of the canal and found myself in the company of the reigning champion Pat Robbins and many-time winner John Kinder (also winner of last years insane Thames Ring 250). Chatting to the two of them revealed they were attempting to break 24-hours for the race and there was a definite air of competition between them. Ironically, running alongside these two we took a wrong turn just a mile in and had to re-route to pick up the main trunk of the canal that headed out of the city through the industrial surrounds and into the heart of Warwickshire. I let Pat and John go although they were, like me, on a 25/5 minute run/walk strategy – the difference was that they were likely to keep it up for 24hrs and I was looking at more like 6 hours before switching.
The grimy industry of Birmingham quickly gave way to open farmland and the race really felt like it had begun as I reached the first checkpoint at 10 miles just short of Catherine de-Barnes bridge. I was 20mins head (the plan was 5mph) but I knew I’d erode that in future food/rest stops. The aim with this race is to delay fatigue for a long as possible. I knew after 6hours I may be able to still run 25/5s but it would start to take something out of me, I wanted to get as far as possible just cruising. If I was out of breath, I was going too fast. I picked up a companion in copper Lee Chamberline at 18miles or so who told me about his recent world record for 7-days on a treadmill and his planned attempt at the JOGLE (John O’Groats – Lands End) record for September – sounds like your average GUCR competitor then! I knocked out the first half-marathon in 2hrs 30mins and arrived at Hatton Locks (22.5 miles) ready for some food. I necked quite a bit of a cooked breakfast (I take nutrition seriously!) before setting off at a leisurely pace to digest it. I passed the marathon point after 5hours ish and was feeling pretty good. The only problem was the rain had set in and it was more than just drizzle by this point. In fact, it would start to rain heavily from this point on for about 6 hours which was really tough for both me and the crew who were desperately trying to dry my kit on the car heater, brew up under bridges and stand over me with umbrellas when I stopped making me feel like some kind of Pharoe! All I needed were some bikini-clad dancers with fans...
The rain eventually stopped and I had switched from the 25/5 strategy to a 10/5 strategy. This proved an inspired move, allowing me to keep up my 5mph by knocking out the 10 minute runs quite quickly. I think I actually kept this up for the next 20 hours, with occasional 5/5 breaks. I was running with Chris Conway at this point who was great company but eventually Chris needed to slow so I cracked on, maintaining a constant pace. I passed through the lovely Braunston and over the Braunston Tunnel (a rare diversion off the towpath) until I eventually reached Weedon (53.1 miles) feeling the best I’d felt all race. I had a sit and some food and felt pretty chuffed I’d managed 2 marathons without too much effort and little aching to show for it in my legs. The wheels were bound to come off at some point and I hit my first low approaching the Gayton Junction checkpoint (60.6miles) where the sun had set and the endless rain bagan to take its toll as I got really cold. Fortunately my crew were on hand with hot chocolate and layers of dry clothes and I was quickly ushered on my way. I think the crew suspected I was starting to tire a bit and brother-in-law Wilson met me (not a checkpoint) as I climbed the hill onto the road section whilst the canal makes its way through the Blisworth tunnel. He shouted some abuse to the effect of “stop slacking and get a move on” and I chugged over towards Stoke Bruerne. There’s a downhill section for about 600 yards before you rejoin the canal along some cracking singletrack and it seemed to inspire me as I breezed through the Stoke Bruerne checkpoint, missing the crew! My mind was on Navigation Bridge at this point – the half-way point (almost) and the point at which I can pick up buddy-runners. Apart from the odd stint with another runner, I’d been listening to my ipod for hours and even the possibility of running with someone I knew seemed pretty appealing! I arrived at Navigation Bridge to a warm round of applause at about 9:15pm – 45mins behind schedule but in one piece and ready for the night. I downed some pasta, donned some clean kit and a headtorch and headed out of the checkpoint in 32nd place.
My quads were feeling a bit mashed but otherwise my legs were okay, the main problem with the night section is staying focussed and keeping awake and alert. The fact that you’re outside amplifies your bodies senses and mine had sensed that it was time to sleep! Not having slept since Thursday night wasn’t helping but a couple of Pro-Plus and some chat with Wilson kept me on my game. The 10/5 pace was good but as I left Wilson at Water Eaton (84.5 miles) I could sense that I was getting really fatigued and I needed to really dig in. Fortunately, our friends Sarah and Ben had joined us – pretty impressive really considering by this point it was 1:15am and they live in Oxford! Anyway, having arrived at the checkpoint an hour early to witness one runner collapse as he arrived they were happy to see me trot in in relatively good form. Sarah strapped on the rucksack and we set off, it was really nice to have someone to chat to who hadn’t been a part of the last 19hours.
The pace wasn’t great but I felt that the miles were rolling by without too much effort. We passed Leighton Buzzard Tesco and arrived at Slapton Lock (94.2miles) at 4:25am – by now I’d abandoned the schedule and was just ‘feeling’ my pace to the finish. I’d got to the point where the Pro-Plus had worn off and I was really knackered though and poor old Ben really drew the short straw as I could barely muster any conversation. He did regale me with the story of his preparation to break the 4-minute mile though – I’ll be sure to post congratulations on this blog when he does it! My vision was getting a bit dodgy here too. I was running behind Ben and when I tried to focus on his feet as they moved they just blurred into one and I’m not entirely sure that I didn’t fall asleep whilst running! The sun had risen (Ben and I shared that particular romantic moment in exhausted silence!) and I was granted mercy at Tring where there was a bed (well, a ground sheet) and I had 30mins nap. I’m sure my wife Anne was having a laugh because she seemed to wake me up about 10 seconds later but apparently it had been 30mins...gutted! Sarah massaged my aching quads (I need to suggest Anne takes a course in massage!) and I was off again with Ben for his final leg. I really perked up at this point but it took the whole 3.9miles to Berkhamsted to get my legs moving faster! Ben and Sarah left to get some kip and Dad joined me here for his stint. He’d come in for some stick last year as he joined me overnight when I was suffering with injury and I might have made some ‘choice’ remarks to him. Anyway, I felt I owed him a good run and we reverted to 10/5s and made really good ground all the way to West Watford (115 miles) with Dad’s motivational chat inspiring me to really pick up some speed. My sister Clare joined me here and a brief detour to a toilet in a used-car dealership (there was nowhere else!) was the only incident as we breezed along towards the scene of last year’s drop-out point, Springwell Lock (121 miles). The sun was really hot now and when I set off I was struggling to control my temperature, sweating really heavily and having to drink loads and take a couple of salt tablets to keep me hydrated. I’d been munching food happily over the race so far but I was starting to lose my appetite – not a good sign with 24 miles left. I pushed on and met up with my final buddy runner, Rich at Wide Water Lock (123 miles). This was the point where I felt the worst in the entire race – my legs were completely shot but because I hadn’t eaten enough I was exhausted (the 30hrs running and no sleep for 2 nights had nothing to do with it!). I forced down some crisps, sweets and some biscuits and we departed the checkpoint a sorry pair.
Rich then suggested I lie on my back and he’d stretch out my hamstrings and calves – this worked wonders! We were soon up and moving and suddenly the thought that I had less than a marathon to go made me realise it was all nearly over! We knocked out consistently steady (and I mean steady) miles arriving at Hambrough Tavern on the outskirts of the centre of London at 5:30pm in hot sun. The crew saw immediately how ‘up’ we were and food and drinks were troughed and we were on our way again, knowing that the next time we saw the crew it would be at Little Venice. An annoying detour through Southall extended the race by 1mile but soon we were back on the canal and chatting to a couple of drunk Irishmen who were insisting that the only way I’d finish is if I had some of their lager! I declined. Maybe I should have taken them up on their offer though as the last few miles went on for ages! Every turn we expected to see the finish sign. We went past Wembley, Paddington Station, we could see the London Eye...we even asked people walking/running on the canal where Little Venice was – “just a mile or so” was always the answer! Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity the ‘Compton Harriers Running Club: FINISH’ sign came into view and suddenly I was running. I crossed the finish line in 39hours 18mins feeling amazing despite the ordeal and the heavyweight medal round my neck was fitting for such an epic event. The winner, Pat Robbins, didn’t manage to break 24hours, instead coming in in just over 26 hours – still unbelievable. I managed a respectable 24th position and given that over half the competitors dropped out I wasn’t complaining.
Thanks to all of those who helped organise the race (particularly Dick, pictured with me below), it’s a fantastic event. Now onto the UTMB...
