When I entered this race I was open about my objectives: to achieve a podium position*, and to increase my 24-hour Personal Best, which stood at 130km. As the weather forecast started trending upwards in the days before the event (the highest I saw was 32 degrees with an overnight low of 18), I moderated my expectations and decided that 100km would be a more reasonable objective.
Not only was the weather not ideal, but my state of rest wasn’t either. Friday night had been hot (29 degrees in our ill-insulated bedroom at 11pm) so it was an uncomfortable night. I woke up fully at 3.30am, got up at 5.30, and by 7 we had loaded the final few things into Erica and were off.
The camping/campervan set-up at the event has changed and whereas last year we were in a nice shady spot within paces of the start/finish area, this year we were further away and in full sunlight. We wasted no time in getting blinds onto all of Erica’s windows, then sat around for a few hours.
I’d like to say that at noon the 3-2-1-Go came, that being the start time of the race, but at noon we were called to enter the starting pen, which wasn’t a quick process with someone writing down each person’s bib number as they entered. Then, once we were all gathered there was a briefing that no-one could hear as the loudhailer broke after the first sentence. We started 15 minutes late.
(*the day before the race I discovered that the podium at this event only comprises 2 places, making this objective a little harder to meet.)
Lap 1 (10.55km)
Happily, there was full cloud cover at this point, so even though it was 30 degrees, we weren’t also being baked by the sun. I started near the back and after walking the first 5 minutes I proceeded at a 2:5 run:walk (as against the 3:1 I’d originally intended). That seemed manageable even in the heat, but it was early days.
To save losing time in walking to and from Erica between laps, Mick carried a chair over to the start/finish and met me with a bag full of stuff I might need. I did my first turn around in 2 minutes last year; it took 4 this year and the only extra things I did was to soak my hat and shove a bottle of frozen water down my bra for a minute (my times this year are taken from my recorded gpx track, which, with the software I’m using, only gives me a hh:mm time, so all 'in camp' times are plus or minus 59 seconds).
Things started feeling hard during Lap 2 and as much as I felt like I should at least try to run some of it, I also knew that I didn’t need to run at all at this stage. It was more important to make it to the cooler hours in a fit state to go on than to get laps under my belt. In reality, Lap 2 was only 2 minutes slower than Lap 1, but I finished it feeling like I’d already done 12 laps, which really didn’t bode well for later.
Lap 3 (31.65km)
It rained! Never have so many people been so happy to have rain during a race**! It was light and intermittent, but it brought some relief from the heat.
I returned to Erica at the end of this lap to change socks and shoes. After my feet dissolved into blisters during my race in March, I bought new shoes with a massively wide toe box and I had been optimistic that they would work so well that I’d be able to wear them all race. By the end of Lap 3 I had three blisters: inside of left foot; outside of right foot (pressure against the footbed – looks like a need a wider heel for hot weather as well as a wide toe box); and outside of left big toe. As I’d walked across Scotland in warm weather without incurring a single hot spot, never mind a blister, Mick suggested maybe I should switch to those shoes, and even though they are uncushioned trail shoes, it seemed like a good suggestion. They felt comfy, so that’s what I went with.
(**This probably isn’t true, but you get the idea.)
Lap 4 (42.2km)
By the end of Lap 3 I could see, with a sinking heart, patches of blue sky approaching and soon into Lap 4 the sky cleared. Thirty degrees now felt so much warmer, and of course it was even more humid after the rain.
I started chatting to people during this lap, and spent the second half with a woman called Katy. We distracted each other nicely and I would have happily continued with her, but she was taking a pause after that lap (her 3rd).
Another quick start/finish line turn around, where I downed a can of ice-cold ginger beer, whilst sitting with a bottle of ice shoved down my bra, after which Mick surprised me with a Calipo ice-lolly to take on the next lap with me.
Lap 5 (52.75km)
Lap 5 was miserable. It was too hot. I was too tired. I only had a few fleeting conversations, and the second half of the lap went on for weeks. I just desperately wanted to lie down where I was for a kip and could not see any way that I could possibly even get myself to 8 laps, for a double marathon, never mind to achieve my new target of 10 laps.
The only slight ray of light was when I thought “I’ve never felt this bad at this stage of a race before”, only then to remember the hideous 10 hours of indigestion during Lakeland 50, allowing me the positive thought of: “Well, it’s not the very worst I’ve ever felt at this point in a race!”.
To add injury to insult, in the last kilometre, I developed a pain up my left shin.
I went back to Erica at the end of the lap completely dejected and Mick had to put up with even more whinging. That doubled when I accidentally tried ripping off my already bruised big toe nail (existing injury, not from this race). That pain was quite something!
Amidst my whinging (to which Mick did quite reasonably point out that I’d chosen to do this), I asked, if I wasn’t going to achieve any of my objectives - not even my reduced hot-weather one - what was the point of exhausting myself and incurring a long recovery period? Why not just go home right then and be immediately fit to go out and do other things that are on the wish list?
What I actually did was, with hindsight, exactly right: I went for a shower, tended my feet, had a big bowl of pasta, a cup of tea and a couple of salt chews, then I lay down and told Mick to wake me in an hour. About ten minutes later I got up and said we may as well get on with it (‘we’ because it was now dark and Mick was going to join me for my first night lap – after midnight I was happy to be out by myself, but not between 10pm and midnight). Despite the tiredness, I didn’t feel like I was going to manage to sleep and if I was going to get to 8 laps then the sooner I did it the better (not only from the point of view of the cooler night temperatures, but the fact that lots of people would be targeting 8 laps, and the faster I got there, the higher up the leader board I would be).
How Lap 5 felt
Lap 6 (63.3km)
I’d like to say that Mick got to see the course that I’ve been around so many times, but it was, of course, dark – that was the whole point of Mick being with me.
We chatted our way around and saw a dozen other people – a mix of those we overtook as they were walking but slower than us, and members of the relay teams who would speed past as we called ‘well done!’ in their wake. By the end of the lap I was no longer miserable and I had a glimmer of hope that I could get to 8 laps.
Mick, of course, couldn’t be on the course with me and also preparing whatever I wanted at the end of the lap (during every other lap I called him from half way round and with <1km to go to relay what I wanted), so I grabbed water from the water station, then whilst I nipped to the loo, Mick fetched my mug, so I could make a cup of tea in the competitors’ tea tent. I then set out on Lap 7 as Mick went off to bed.
Lap 7 (73.85km)
I enjoyed Lap 7! This was the first night time lap on my own, but I was only about 500m in when I saw head torches ahead. It took me 3km to catch up with them, then I spent the next couple of km or so with company. Perhaps not the best tactical approach, but I’m generally happy to slow down to chat at the expense of faster progress, but keeping an eye on my objectives, when this pair slowed, I bade them farewell and trotted on. I’ve no idea if I saw them again, as not wanting to blind either of them with my headtorch, I didn’t see what they looked like.
I passed a few others on this lap too, and the universal topic of conversation was questioning how it could be so hot at that time of morning (1-2am).
The only downer in this lap was the pain in my left shin.
Lap 8 (84.4km)
This one was truly solo. Three relay runners shot past me, at different points in the lap, but otherwise I saw not a soul, unless you count looking across the lake as I was finishing the lap to see a relative stream of people just coming out of camp. They’d timed themselves nicely to see sunrise across the lake; I’d missed that this year.
Whether to continue for a 9th lap? I asked the chap manning the timing mats whether there were live standings available, and he said not, but that there was a print out on a board in the main marquee. It had been published at 10pm, and the next iteration was due to go up ‘soon’. On the one hand disappointing to not know exactly where I stood, but I also couldn’t decide whether I really wanted to know.
I visited the marquee, just in case they’d already put the morning standings up, but only learnt (via a most user-unfriendly set of data) that at 10pm the leading lady had completed 6 laps, with me and one other on 5. What I didn’t know was whether: a) the leader had completed a lap a few minutes before 10pm and thus was only just ahead of me; b) they'd slept overnight; or c) they'd been out on laps at the same time as me.
A quick trip to Erica, disturbing a slumbering Mick, I grabbed what I needed and headed back out again.
Lap 9 (94.95km)
Absolutely nothing about this lap sticks in my mind! At the end of it, I went back to Erica, got Mick out of bed so I could access the cupboards, and made porridge and tea, tending my feet again whilst I ate. I also had a text conversation with Ali (friend and very knowledgeable retired GP) about how things were going. The general view on the shin problem was that whether it was shin splints, a stress fracture or tendinitis, I probably wouldn’t significantly affect the recovery time by doing one more lap on it.
But did I want to go back out? Given that everyone else would also have been affected by the temperature, would 9 laps be enough for second place this year? Possibly, but without seeing those standings, I couldn’t form any sort of informed view. Mick repeatedly went over to the marquee, to no avail.
Deferring the decision a little longer, I lay down and vaguely dozed for twenty minutes, then I got back up and declared that I had another lap in me.
Mick walked me to the start line, via the marquee, where the standings were just being pinned up. “There’s only one woman on the leader board, and that’s Aggie with 9 laps” I was told. “But I’ve also done 9 laps!” I said. I looked at the leader board, and sure enough, there I was, two places behind (thus she had completed her 9 faster than I had). I then scanned the full participant standings as fast as I could and confirmed that, as far as I could see, there was no other woman on 9 laps.
Lap 10 (105.5km)
The news that I was definitely in second place gave me a boost of adrenaline. My blisters stopped hurting, and I ran more of this lap than I had any since Lap 1. In fact, I finished Lap 10 only 2 minutes slower than Lap 1. Conversations were minimal – if there was another woman who could squeeze in extra laps, I wanted to get to ten before they could, to maintain second position.
Towards the end of the lap, my mind naturally turned to the potential for an eleventh lap. I’d felt so good and energised in Lap 10, that even acknowledging that I could crash and feel awful within minutes, I couldn’t see any good reason not to go for an 11th.
Foreseeing this scenario, Mick had already checked with the organisers that I had until 1215 to finish (due to the late start; last year they started 3 minutes late but finished on time), and was unsurprised when I ran over the finish line and declared my intentions. To save time, I grabbed some water and a flapjack from the adjacent water station and darted (relatively!) back out.
Lap 11 (116km)
My shin was really not happy on this lap, but my feet were still fine and whilst energy was dipping, I was still moving fine (when the now near-gale wind wasn’t in my face!).
The final 400m of the course comprises a gently downward slope, a tiny up, then flat to the finish, and I didn’t half put a sprint on during that section, for no good reason other than I could. Seeing two women ahead of me, I called “Is that Katy?”, she turned and confirmed it was, but I didn’t stop for another chat, just explaining “11!!!” over my shoulder as I passed.
Having crossed the finish line (at 11.37, so the late start didn’t come into the equation in the end), I waited for Katy to finish, to congratulate her properly and thank her again for her company way back on Lap 4. The timer chap then came over to congratulate me on what he saw as an excellent performance in the conditions.
The Medal and Prize-Giving
Once you’ve finished all the laps you intend to do, you go over to the marquee, give your name and the number of laps you’ve done and they give you a medal and the appropriate pins (half marathon, marathon, ultra & double marathon) for your distance (this honesty system for pin-giving worries my sister, but the official results aren’t affected even if someone did lie to get more pins than they are due).
I discerned some excitement in the volunteers voice as she asked me for my number of laps, and when I told her, she declared “You’ve won!”.
“Really?!” I questioned. I was so sure that Aggie would have been matching me lap for lap, that I hadn’t really contemplated the possibility of having passed her, but it turned out she’d stopped at 10.
Having finished with time to spare, I had time for a quick shower before returning for prize giving.
With hindsight…
It was such a good decision not to stop after 5, 8 or 10 laps!
I ended up enjoying more laps than not.
I feel like I did all the right things in terms of food, drink and rest, as well as taking time for a shower when I was wilting after Lap 5 and over all don’t think I could have done much better.
The Aftermath
An even greater surprise than winning was that I woke up on Monday morning feeling perfectly well. No post-race dehydration hangover and mental fuzziness. My body wasn’t too sore either – except for the shin, which is very sore indeed.
Even though there wasn't an awful lot of running involved, there's clear evidence that had I been able to keep moving forwards at the times when I took long breaks, I could have easily fitted another two laps in.
Incidentally, it took me over 4 hours longer to reach 81k than it did during my race in March, entirely due to the temperature.
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