A Running Event: Part 2

Race Day

As the Race Director counted down the “3-2-1-Go” on the strike of 10am, the competitors scattered. However, there are only so many routes out of a small village and I wasn’t the only person heading north. Half way across the first field, I looked back to see how many people were behind me. None was the answer. I was already firmly bringing up the rear. Even so, I stuck to my intended pace, feeling sure that I would later pass (in distance, even if not on the same route) some of the whippets rapidly pulling away ahead of me.

Actual routes, captured after the event had finished. The green circle marks the finish line.

My confidence that my pace was right lasted until the second field, when I suddenly realised what I’d not considered. On the map snippet below, on the left, in red, is my original route from the original start point; on the right, in blue, is my actual route from the revised start point:

I knew I could cover 80km in 12 hours and my original route had been pretty straight. What I'd not considered was that all of the westerly sections at the start of my new route would allow the expanding circle to gain on me, and I hadn’t calculated whether that would require me to start faster. Would the half-hour head start be enough, or would my wiggly start see me out of the race embarrassingly early?

My heart rate had been fine until that panic set in. It then rocketed and stayed disconcertingly high for a disconcertingly long time.

As it went, I didn’t get caught by the expanding circle. I can’t remember how close it got to me, but for much of the time it was between 4 and 6km behind, and once my route straightened out and I was happy that I was safe from being caught (barring disaster!), I had a nice relaxed day.

Mick, on the other hand, had a relatively stressful day. He was meeting me on average every 7.5 kilometres, which was pleasantly often for me (most times I just grabbed food and drink and was gone again) but meant that Mick didn’t have much time to spare between getting stuff out, putting it back away, and driving to the next location.

My route proved to be a good sight-seeing tour too. The Thames Path and Oxford were particular highlights.

Disappointingly, my feet started disintegrating from about 15km in. This is mind-boggling. I cover a lot of miles on foot*, my feet are pretty tough, and except for my left little toe, I wouldn’t say that I’m prone to blisters. My longest training run (before structured training went out the window when we unexpectedly moved to Halifax a month ago) was 36km, I wore my race shoes, and didn’t get a single blister. I’d worn the same shoes in Spain in temperatures pretty similar to race day. I was wearing the same socks as usual too. So, I’ve no idea what caused not just a couple of blisters but TEN of them! (*I did 19 outings of 15k or more in training, without my feet disintegrating.)

More disappointing than the blisters was the pain that developed on the outside of my right knee from 27km in. I could walk pain-free, but as I ran the cramp-like discomfort would get progressively worse until I had to walk again. When I say ‘progressively’ it got to the point that I could manage 30 paces before it got too much. Fortunately, walking reset it, so I could walk a while then run 30 paces, and repeat. I later twigged that if I entered the Ministry of Silly Walks after 30 paces, I could up the running to 50 paces. Later still, with the assistance of paracetamol I even managed 100 paces. But, at least I could keep up a brisk walk.

This format isn’t a sociable one. I caught up with one pair and one solo in the entirety of my route (none of whom reached the finish line), which amounted to around three minutes of conversation. It turned out not to bother me in the slightest and I was perfectly happy being in a physical yet virtual real-time race.

Remember me mentioning all that time spent researching and honing my route to make it as efficient as possible? Nugatory effort! When I left the dreadful excuse for a tow path on the Oxford Canal and saw the speed of cars on the B-road I was then meant to be taking, I quickly decided to revert to the canal route, even though it was going to add a couple of kilometres. Time was then lost replanning the next support point.

By the time I got to that next support point, it had been raining for a while. The weather forecast had been for showers throughout the day, but the reality was that it was dry and warm until quarter to seven, after which it rained continuously and, for much of the final three hours, heavily. Once it was fully dark, it was irrelevant which brightness I used on the headtorch – all I could see was the light bouncing back off the rain.

Fortunately, I’d changed my shoes when Mick met me for the penultimate time before the finish line, because the rain very quickly turned the nice firm not-rained-on-for-weeks towpath into a mass of puddles with sections of slippery mud, and road shoes had gone from perfectly fine to performing like ice-skates.

Constant lightning over to the west was a cause for mild concern, but it didn’t get any nearer to me.

I took to the road for my final 4km to the finish. Turns out that my chosen finish point sits atop a tiny hill. My plotted 76km route (which became 78km with my route switch to the canal) had a mere 350m of ascent and 50m of it was in the final 3.5km.

By the time I reached the finish line I was pretty wet, with the water resistant zip on my jacket having been overwhelmed. I was also cooling down. My feet were a mass of blisters. My knee was poorly. Surely the sensible thing was to stop and not go for ‘last woman standing’. I knew I might regret stopping; I knew (due to the feet and knee) that I might regret continuing, so it wasn't an easy decision.

As I climbed into Erica and checked that my dot on the map had turned green (confirming that I had crossed the virtual finish line), I knew that I needed to make a quick decision, before I got too cold.

I dithered. I dithered some more - for twenty minutes in the end, with the expanding circle ever creeping up on me. Finally, I declared that Carole (the only other woman still going) could have it, and I was done. I typed my resignation text message to the Race Director, got my tracker out and had my finger on the power off button. Then it occurred to me that I was tied with the only other woman who had reached the finish line (all other solo women had DNFd). If I just continued a little further, I would leapfrog her. So, I told Mick to give me a ten minute head start, then come and pick me up.

Peeling off my wet waterproof, I put on two dry ones (no more rain getting through a front zip for me tonight!) and shivered off up the road. Five minutes later Mick phoned me: “Carole has stopped and turned off her tracker”.

“Oh ****! I’m going to have to continue now, aren’t I?” I said.

I wasn’t far off her crow-flies distance when I came upon a road closure (not the sort that I could ignore and nip through anyway, but major HS2 works). My phone was not enjoying the heavy rain on its screen, but between me and Mick (who was now parked just beyond the road closure) we came up with a plan. The best option we could see was to start heading ENE, which isn’t ideal when only northerly movement counts.

Stopping with only 100m more on the score board than Carole, I felt a little guilty at not making the effort to beat her more resoundingly, but equally there was no value in continuing when I knew that all other women had stopped and that I had achieved 'last woman standing'. I happily climbed into Erica, turned off my tracker and finally sent that resignation text message I'd typed a few kilometres earlier.

My final stats were 67.5km as the crow flies, and 81.5km actually covered.

The overall winner covered 107km as the crow flies and 119km real distance – outstanding route efficiency (but no way would you ever catch me on the roads he used).

(I feel that I should declare the fact that there was a disappointingly small field in the solo women category. However, I can only compete against those who turn up, so I'll happily take the win regardless!)