Sri Chinmoy Self Transcendence 24hr Track Race 2011

Fighting My Central Governor and the Refuge of a Ford Focus Boot

(Photo Martin Leitner)

The original plan was to complete 2011 by racing the Lichfield Double Enduroman in August . It was a fast course and I was set on achieving a respectable time. However, the race venue forced Enduroman to cancel the event and I was left with a void for the remainder of the year. As there were no other ultra-triathlons in the UK, I decided to target an ultra-marathon.

There are very few ultra-marathons I’m interested in. They either have to be a classic route (Badwater, Spartathlon, Comrades etc), distance (100km and 100miles) or time duration (12hr, 24hr and 48hr). My only experience of ultrarunning had been in 2005 when I had competed in the last ever running of the London to Brighton road race. It was a classic event respected throughout the world, and had previously attracted many ultrarunning legends such as Bruce Fordyce and Arthur Newton.

I had been long been intrigued with 24 hour events, and had always intended on entering one. It seemed the simplest, purest athletic challenge there was: how far can you travel on foot for a full day and night? I found the Sri Chinmoy Self Transcendence event scheduled in early September so I entered, and once I had recovered from the Triple immediately switched my focus to running.

 Event video courtesy of Run and Become.

As it was only a few weeks between the Triple and 24, I had only had a very short period of training to increase running volume as much as I could.  The priority was to remain injury free so instead of running for several hours at a time, I split the long runs by completing multiple runs during the day of no more than 75 minutes duration. I would start the first run in the early morning and finish the last run close to midnight, building up to 5 hours in total.

The race was held at Tooting Bec athletics track in London.  The morning of the race was a hive of activity as competitors set up camp around the perimeter of the track and prepared their kit and supplies for the race. Some people pitched tents while others erected tables to position the endless supply of drinks and snacks. Half an hour before the race there was a briefing and it was then a case of hanging around until the start at 12pm. Anna had just returned from the Ironman 70.3 Worlds in Las Vegas and agreed to help out again having previously braved the weather at the Triple. While I prepared for the start she ensured my bottles were filled and spare kit organised.

As we all waited for the start it became clear that this event attracted older people - both men and women – than the average running event. The race programme had included biographies of all the competitors, and the field had a considerable amount of ultrarunning experience between them.

False start in Lane 1 (Photo Martin Leitner).

The start was great: completely relaxed and stress free. At 12pm 45 runners began running clockwise around the track with 24 hours ahead of them. The weather was ideal with some cloud and a light breeze, which I was very grateful for after the terrible conditions at the Triple. The race involved a change of direction every 4 hours, and I was to gradually realise over the following hours that this would provide virtually the only mental stimulation during the race.

Feeling good on lap 4 - the crowds were going wild.

My pre-race plan was to run for 20 minutes and then walk a lap while I fuelled, and to continue this routine for as long as possible. I had no splits in mind, only to settle into an easy pace and keep my gait as smooth and efficient as possible. I was fascinated to see how the other runners were using different strategies from the outset.  Some were running very hard (I could hear their breathing as they approached me from behind), while a few were religiously walking for short periods every lap or so. I got talking to Hugh Pinner who was running 300m and walking 100m from the very first lap, and asked him about his race strategy. He had previous experience of 24 hour racing and explained how he had used the same strategy at the 2010 event.  His aim was to cover as much distance as possible within the 24 hours without running for any long periods. It was the same idea I was following, only more extreme.

As everyone was on the same 400m circuit it was impossible to know what position I was in. To keep runners informed of their accumulated distance and overall position, a leaderboard was updated every hour. After the first hour I was just inside the first half of the field which was a bit surprising. I’m never that far down in a race but I wasn’t panicked into increasing my pace. I was racing into the unknown and had absolutely no idea how I would feel later on. I was also certain some of the frontrunners would suffer later on!

Before the rain arrived (Photo Martin Leitner).

The first few hours passed quite pleasantly without any problems, and I kept hydrating and lightly snacking every 20 minutes. The organisers had also organised hot meals to be served at lunchtime, evening and breakfast. I had consumed half the menu at McDonalds that morning so wasn’t remotely hungry, but forced myself to eat the first meal 2 hours into the race.    

I was well within my comfort zone and went through the first marathon in 4:18 which was faster than I had in mind. Before the race I had set myself two targets: to prevent complete failure I had to cover 100 miles, and to achieve minimum success I would have to reach 120 miles. The marathon time indicated a 140-150 mile pace which I knew was far too ambitious but as it felt so easy I continued at the same pace.

 The early pace would gradually slow (Photo Martin Leitner).

Each time the leaderboard was updated I gained one or more places as early leaders started walking more. The weather was still dry but dark clouds were starting to form by late afternoon. Anna had planned to meet friends in London that evening but just as she was about to leave it started raining. The most important lesson I had learned at the Triple was to maintain core body temperature at all times. Consequently, as soon as it started to rain I grabbed a lightweight waterproof top from the car and put a hat and gloves on. Most competitors had the same idea, but several continued in their running vests getting absolutely soaked. Bonkers.

The rain passed after a coupe of hours, and by that time the sun was going down and I covered myself from head to toe to keep warm. The evening meal was served around 8pm and I made the most of it – there was basically as much food as you wanted, and it was just what everyone needed.

 Lap counters working in shifts (Photo Martin Leitner).

Every hour I moved further up the leaderboard and still felt very comfortable. The lap counters were being replaced every few hours with other volunteers, and they were continually cheerful throughout the event. They had to wave to us each lap to ensure they had seen us and recorded every lap.

I had enjoyed racing through the dark at the Double and Triple events and I again found myself feeling really good as the race approached midnight. I was enjoying the whole experience and feeling very positive about reaching 120 miles by the finish. The twelve hour point is an obvious milestone in the event, and it was a very welcome sight to be guided around the cone to begin running in the opposite direction. It was during this lap that competitors got the only opportunity to see the faces of the other athletes, and there were faces on the last turnaround I hadn’t seen at all during the entire event.

As the race progressed, my brain began focussing on the strangest things to provide some mental stimulation. By far the most exciting activity was going to the toilet. During previous events I had always gone as I kept moving to save time, but also to prevent the legs seizing up. I didn’t think this would go down well on a running track so the side of my car at trackside became my personal toilet. For the final 12 hours every time I felt the need to go I would hold it in for a couple of laps for something to look forward to.

Leaderboard being updated (Photo Martin Leitner).

I also became obsessed with the leaderboard, again without any particular reason. I wasn’t too bothered with my position, but the updated information provided something to focus on. I spent hours working out different scenarios based on increasing pace/maintaining pace/dropping pace and where I would eventually finish, and it was all completely pointless. I’ve never done so much mental arithmetic in my life.

 24hr aid station serving anything and everything (Photo Martin Leitner).

The runners’ high from the previous night had gone and my pace started to gradually drop in the early hours. I began walking every 15 minutes, and by sunrise I was only running for up to 10 minutes at a time. I was still fuelling, and the helpers provided hot drinks and snacks throughout the night. If I asked for a hot drink it was ready the next time I came around – awesome service.

My legs were feeling progressively more tired and painful, and I realised I should have brought some painkillers, especially as they had been so useful at the Triple. Hugh Pinner offered me some in the early hours which seemed to be effective but once they wore off I was back to the same discomfort. I finally caved in and went to sit on the toilet and play Angry Birds for 10 minutes.

Much the same, only darker and wetter (Photo Martin Leitner).

Someone told me at the Double that you feel much better when the sun rises, which turned out to be complete and utter bollocks. It hurts just as much, only you can now see where you’re going. It proved to be the same situation again as I began walking much more. I had previously climbed to fifth place during the night, but in the last 6 hours I gradually began to drop one place each hour.  The only positive event was going through 100 miles in 19 hours 19 minutes. I had achieved the bare minimum but was well aware that I couldn’t cover 120 miles if I continued at the same pace. 

Other runners were going through different phases of running well, walking and disappearing off the track to their tents. A few who had gone through bad patches in the night were running well in the later stages, and I was hoping I would similarly improve. As I had improved so dramatically after breakfast at the Triple, I spent the early hours of the morning obsessing about when breakfast would be served, and what it would consist of.  With around 4 hours to go I was walking along stuffing myself with bacon, sausage, egg and beans. Once I’d finished that I had some porridge and a cup of coffee, and then waited for my legs to start working again. Needless to say they didn’t and the last 4 hours were the hardest and most painful of my life.

Change of shoes for excitement (Photo Martin Leitner).

The pace continued to drop as I walked more and with 2 hours to go I was in a bad way. The morning was warm and sunny but I was wrapped in thermals, gloves and a hat. I hadn’t stopped at all during the race, but I ended flopping into the boot of my car for 5 minutes. Anna changed my shoes for me (mainly for excitement and variety) and I shuffled back onto the track. My legs had begun to seize up and I was struggling to walk in a straight line. I tried to run but it was virtually impossible so I tried different ways of getting my legs to move. I worked my arms harder to initiate movement, and I tried tilting forwards to virtually fall into a run. Neither really worked as the legs were completely buggered.

Tim Noakes – the renowned South African exercise physiologist – talks about the Central Governor, a mechanism in the brain which controls how hard we push ourselves. It acts as a trip switch when it fears the body’s survival is at stake.

I always push as hard as I physically can when I race, and there’s always the battle against easing back and reducing the pain, especially in the last few miles. During every race until this it seems that I had come to an agreement with my Central Governor during the final stages. I would dig as deep as I could, it hurt unbearably but I was always able to keep going and function after the finish. It was therefore unknown territory to feel my body gradually shutting down, as I weaved and staggered my way around the track at under 2mph.

While I was limping and staggering along like a drunk, the leaders were pushing each other for the win. Peter van Winjngaarden had been leading for most of the race, but had begun to trade the lead with Simon Handley in the final few hours. They were running so well it was hard to believe. I had been in a similar situation to them at the Triple so it was mentally hard to watch them performing so well while I continued to deteriorate.

Sense of humour failure in final hour (Photo Martin Leitner).

I had another couple of visits to my boot in the last 2 hours, and felt worse every time I resumed ‘racing’. The mind was willing but the Central Governor was having none of it. The switch was flipped and I eventually ground to a halt fifteen minutes from the end.

I told Anna I was getting in the car and wouldn’t be getting out again. I eventually reached my car and eventually managed to fall into the boot. My body was in agony and – as was the case at the Double – I started to feel very unwell. Anna thanked the lap counter for me (who couldn’t understand why I couldn’t carry on to the end!), came over to take my shoes off and covered me with the duvet. She continues to remind me that it was technically a DNF.

Support crew was less than impressed (Photo Martin Leitner).

I began the familiar delirious state, drifting in and out of sleep, unable to get remotely comfortable. I remember hearing the hooter signalling the end of the race, and I later heard some applause at the prize giving. I really wanted to be there but I couldn’t move at all, and if I tried to sit up I immediately felt sick and dizzy.

I eventually found out I had covered 114 miles, the equivalent of running from Stockport to Northampton.  I wasn’t particularly pleased with it but it wasn’t embarrassing either, especially for a first attempt. The winner had achieved 141.6 miles, only 2.5 miles in front of second place.

I remained in the boot for another couple of hours, and by the time the nausea and dizziness had passed everyone had left. I was planning on driving home which proved not to be one of my best ideas as my legs were still virtually immobile. Anna told me I was stupid insisting she drove instead, and we eventually left in search of the nearest Burger King.

No signs of life at the end - hard to describe the pain.

Reflection
100 miles is a long distance to run and it can’t be blagged. In training I had covered the most volume I dared manage in the short space of time between the Triple and the 24 hour, and under the circumstances I think I did the right thing.

I terms of race strategy, I should have walked more often from the start. Because there were no inclines that would force a walk, it takes a lot of self-discipline to walk in the early miles. As I hadn’t done any long runs in training, if I had run for 1 mile and walked a lap throughout the entire event, I think I would have covered a greater distance.

Final standings (Photo Martin Leitner).

I intend to return next year to achieve at least 200km. As I have entered several ultra marathons earlier in the year I should be much better prepared for the shear distance of the event. As I’m not swimming or cycling any more, I’ll also have much more time to increase volume and – more importantly – gradually increase the long runs in a safe, progressive way.

The race was very well run and fantastic value for money. I’ve never raced in an event which had so much hot food and drink available for 24 hours, and nothing was too much trouble for the volunteers.

Race details here: http://uk.srichinmoyraces.org/ultras

Race photos (courtesy of Martin Leitner) here:
http://gallery.srichinmoyraces.org/great-britain/ultras/24h_2011/