Sri Chinmoy Self Transcendence 24hr Race 2013

Colonial Upstarts, Bonsai Trees and a Strange Man Punching a Tree

As this was my third year at the Sri Chinmoy Self Transcendence 24 hour race, I decided it was to be a boy’s road trip packed with ultrarunning-related japes and hilarity. Carla - my previous support - had conveniently arranged a hen do in Barcelona that weekend and everyone else in the western world was apparently busy. I was therefore reliant on a crack team of two 24 hour virgins to provide the entertainment: Chris, an Ironman athlete dreaming of past Kona glories, and Dan, a strange troll-like creature who I’d somehow convinced to enter the event.

 

It's Friday night, it's a road trip, let's crank it up to 11!

 

The plan was to travel down with Chris - and his daughter, Arabella - on Friday evening and meet up with Dan on race morning. Amazingly, Chris had managed to dress himself properly and was unusually ready on time, and after a surprisingly small amount of faffing the road trip began. As everyone knows the most important element of any road trip is a  rocking soundtrack, the sort of thing Jeremy Clarkson would listen to. Unfortunately I have great taste in music and Chris doesn’t so a middle ground couldn’t be agreed on. We consequently travelled to London listening to Radio 4.

 

The next morning after fuelling our bodies with a wholesome and nutritious McDonalds breakfast, we travelled to the race venue at Tooting Bec track. We picked Dan up en-route managing to take a few wrong turns, nearly causing a pile up and promptly losing him just outside the track, all within ten minutes.

Pre-race flex off: who needs calf muscles anyway?

 

The venue was instantly familiar except it resembled a building site along the back straight. We chose a pitch at the far end and this was to be our home for the next couple of days. Once I’d registered, set up my support area and Chris had erected the tent Dan eventually arrived. How the man gets himself to work every morning I’ll never know.

 

The relaxed atmosphere before an ultra is something I’ve grown to really enjoy over the last couple of years. Chris was struggling to adjust as he was used to the adrenaline and testosterone fuelled nature of a transition area before the start of an Ironman. I’ve found I don’t need that intensity or stress anymore and relish the change of environment.

Ladies, form an orderly queue...

 

In between incomprehensible monologues, Alan Partridge quotes and obsessive texting, Dan somehow managed to get himself ready with the help of his assistant, Lynne. We were sharing the same table and chairs and it was soon apparent I didn’t have as much food or drink with me as usual. Because the food provided by the organisers is so comprehensive and varied I found I took most of my supplies home with me the previous two years.

 

The weather was perfect and spirits were high as we lined up to start at midday. My race plan was very simple and there was a tier system of goals:

Gold: run 135+ miles

Silver: beat my previous distance of 127 miles

Bronze: achieve the Spartathlon standard of 200km (124 miles)

 Chris realises what he's missing.

Hours 1-4 (Clockwise)

After blowing up at the Lakeland 100 I was conscious of not repeating the gamble. I was also aware that I needed to reach 100 miles well under 18 hours to have any chance of reaching 135 miles. I decided to run the first hour and then follow a routine of running 7 laps and walking 1 lap for as long as possible. This was one extra lap of running than the previous year.

 

I didn’t want to get distracted by splits and measurements as there was a long way to go and energy levels can fluctuate wildly during an ultra. Dan was chirpy and continuing to talk shite, and Chris insulted us every time we passed him so things were looking good.

 

As usual I was being lapped from the start but I wasn’t remotely bothered. I knew several people would withdraw or self-destruct later in the race so I remained relaxed and ticked the early hours by. Chris soon left to visit the zoo and after around two hours Dan’s Alan Partridge quotes had virtually ceased. The novelty of the event had worn off and we were all resigned to the reality that we would be running around the same track for a whole day and night with very little to look forward to.

 

Hours 5-8 (Anti clockwise)

After a week of poor weather it was a huge relief to have such perfect conditions forecasted. The day was slightly overcast with a light breeze but I was happily running with short sleeves and a gillet.

Picnic table - spot the Moshlings!

 

The early hours were fairly uneventful. There were still several people lapping me at a decent pace and most people were engaged in conversation as they ran. There were some strong Scottish runners competing and they’d brought an energetic group of supporters with them which was a welcome distraction.

 

During quieter times I found myself focussing on anything different and exciting outside the venue. I became a master at this the previous year but soon realised that this year there was very few little activity around us apart from the occasional siren as an emergency vehicle sped past.

 

Every four hours we were to change direction. My plan was to alternate my shoes at this time throughout the race to provide some variety and hopefully prevent injury and blistering. I switched from my Saucony Omni to Adrenaline GTS and the difference couldn’t have been more stark: the Adrenalines felt really hard underfoot and I was in two minds whether to change straight back. I’m very conscious of hot spots developing as they soon become blisters – until people experience them they can’t appreciate how crippling they become.

 

I went through the first marathon in under 4:15 which was quite a conservative pace. It felt very comfortable and I was still conscious of pacing the event sensibly. I was halfway down the field which was slightly better than previous years and as the hours passed I began to creep my way up the leaderboard.

 

Excitement was eventually provided as I heard some noise in the trees adjacent to the back straight. At first I couldn’t work out what was happening but after a few laps I realised what the noise was - a man was in the middle of the wood repeatedly and enthusiastically punching a tree.

Awesome lapcounters working through the night (Photo Run and Become). 

 

As the light began to fade the floodlights were switch on and I had the first of several hot meals. I only ate small amounts but wanted to avoid sweets and cakes as much as possible. The volunteers were as helpful as always and any request was happily answered. Chris eventually returned from the zoo to resume the insults and he’d also brought some beers with him which put a brief spring in my step. By now Dan wasn’t providing any entertainment whatsoever and had disappointingly transformed into Mr Seriousultrarunner. 

 

Hours 9-12 (Clockwise)

As darkness fell some supporters left and the place became noticeably quieter. We’d also lost a couple of runners through retirement and Treepunchingman had also gone home (or gone to find some different trees to hit). I changed back to my Omnis and couldn’t believe how softer they felt underfoot. The weather was still perfect – spectators were wrapping up but the temperature was ideal for running. I’d brought loads of clothing options with me in case it rained but all I needed was my arm warmers.

The 24hr buffet (Photo Run and Become).

 

One or two people were paying the price for starting too fast and one runner was throwing up so violently I could hear him from the other side of the track. Amazingly, after emptying his stomach he continued running as if nothing had happened.

 

Scotsman Marco Consani was flying around with great consistency as were the two lead women. I’d raced Helen James a couple of times before but didn’t know Fiona Cameron, also from Scotland. She was on schedule for an outstanding performance but the race was still in the early stages.

There were a few spare seats left for spectators (Photo Run and Become).

 

As it approaches midnight the body inevitably begins to tire as it expects you to be sleeping. There’s also the fact that you’ve still not reached half way and the finish seems a long, long way away. Despite this for some reason I started to feel stronger and decided to increase my running to 8 laps run, 1 lap walk. 

 

Chris stayed up to insult me for a final couple of hours while sitting there drinking beer. Sometimes he gave me the finger, sometimes two fingers and occasionally had the creativity to use a combination of the two. He eventually disappered into the tent mumbling that he'd had enough of  watching skinny old men shuffling around a track.

 

The runner with the vomiting issues was still running well despite more violent episodes. It was proper vomiting too, the type that takes your breath away and makes your eyeballs stick out.  If I’m sick I think I’m going to die and need to lie down in a dark room - how he was able to continue is beyond me.

 

During the evening a familiar race appeared. I’d raced Chris Ette at the Lanzarote Double Enduroman a couple of years earlier and then duelled with him at the UK Triple Enduroman a few months later. He’d eventually won and I was second. He’d come to watch the race for a few hours and seemed to know the Scottish contingent – the world of ultra-endurance sport is a very small one!

 

 

Perfect running conditions during the night (Photo Run and Become).

 

Hours 13-16 (Anti clockwise)

The halfway point is always a positive time in a race, and after 12 hours it’s particularly welcome. I was maintaining the 8/1 ratio and managed to gain several places during the early hours, entering the top ten overall.

 

There were more people walking by now and several people appeared to have injury/motivation/happiness issues as the fatigue increased. Most supporters had retired to bed and runners were largely reliant on the volunteers.  The conditions were still ideal and at times there was a full moon so I was still using some electrolyte drink with the occasional sweet tea. The hot snacks kept arriving and the 24 hour buffet saw no signs of slowing down.

 

My feet still felt ok but I made the point to stop and change my socks and reapply Vaseline to my feet. Losing five minutes could prevent losing considerably more time later on and I was prone to blistering beneath the balls of both feet.

Leader board in the early hours (Photo Run and Become).

 

Hours 17-20 (Clockwise)

I continued to feel strong as dawn approached but the two lead women were still in front which was unusual. Fiona and Helen were still several miles ahead and didn’t appear to be slowing. Helen’s tactic had been the same the previous year and had resulted in her slowing during the later stages. She was obviously stronger this year and I wasn’t making and progress on either of them.

 

Dan was beginning to have problems with his hip and was also suffering from Facebook withdrawal symptoms. Spirits were lifted when breakfast arrived and then Chris surfaced from his tent so the insults duly recommenced for the final few hours.

 

I eventually reached 100 miles in 18:06 which was quite a blow. It was quicker than previous years and I was running well but realised it was impossible to reach my goal in the remaining hours. On a positive note I’d gained another couple of places which was some consolation, but my motivation had taken a huge hit. I still had six hours of running left knowing I’d failed my objective.

 

Hugh Pinner – who I’d raced with the previous two years – was having stomach issues and we found ourselves walking together. He mentioned that the race was also the English Ultra Champs and that there was a good chance I was in contention. I remembered reading about it in the pre-race information but hadn’t given it any more thought. He kindly went to make some enquiries and established I was in third place as the others ahead of me were either female, Irish or Scottish. I was steadily catching the two ahead so I now had another reason to keep the pressure on myself.

Who's idea was this? Dan holds back the tears.
 

 

By now most people were finding it difficult and this is when the event really begins to test people. Track racing is completely raw with no fluff or distraction. There are no hills to crest, lakes to pass or pretty villages to pass though. It’s 24 hours of monotony with nothing to take your mind away from the increasing discomfort and pain.

 

I reduced my running back to running 7 laps and walking a lap and hoped I’d be able to maintain it to the finish. With around five hours to go I was up to fourth overall and was leading the English competition. This was because others were slowing (or stopping for breaks) whereas I was maintaining a consistent – if unimpressive - pace. 7 laps became 6 laps and I eventually settled on 4 laps and then a walk.

Holding on to fourth with hurty legs (Photo Run and Become).

 

Around this time I made a pact with myself that I wouldn’t do another ultra again. The pain was entirely self-inflicted and completely unnecessary. I was actually planning what I’d do with my newly aquired free time – I went through a series of crap sports and hobbies and even decided to buy a bonsai tree at one point.  

 

Dan had seen the physio who’d recommended he withdraw but he was running well, only interrupting his progress by repeatedly stopping to satisfy his Crackberry habit. I wanted him to put the phone down and get back on the track so tried my best to encourage him;

“Dan, start running!”

“Fuck off. Unlike you I’ve got friends!”

 

Hours 21-24 (Anti clockwise)

By now I wasn’t in the most positive place I’ve ever been. I’d failed my objective and wasn’t sure if I’d even achieve the Spartathlon standard of 200km. A couple of times I actually sat down for a minute which is something I almost never do unless I’m tending to my feet. Dan, Chris and I briefly discussed the merits of what we were doing and I was struggling to think of any positives. It was mental weakness, nothing else. Chris even stopped taking the piss for a few minutes so I must have looked bad. 

"So there's this place near me which sells bonsai trees..."

I was eventually kicked back into focus when I realised a couple of Englishmen were gradually catching me, and unless I strapped a pair of balls on I would go home with nothing. I stepped up the pace to make the best of the situation and began to get my legs back. I was prepared to try anything to make the last couple of hours as pain free as possible – I’d had an impressive amount of Ibuprofen up to that point so thought I’d try a beer. It would either go horribly wrong or make me invincible, only time would tell. I felt like a Yates' Wine Lodge regular sat there all smelly and dishevelled drinking Peroni at 10am but it was surprisingly enjoyable and went down very well.

 

I’m not sure if the Peroni had any effect other than boosting morale but I started running more consistently. I was aware of who the others were and where we all were relative to each other. I knew when they were walking or running and I was counting how many times I was being lapped. Because I was 2-3 miles in front I knew that I they would have to lap me 10-12 times per hour to pass me. Unless I imploded this was impossible so I just had to keep going. I passed 200km with around 30 minutes to go (as I had the previous year) so beating 127 miles was possible if I pushed as hard as possible.

 

Both the lead women had slowed and I had almost caught Helen but it was too late. The rest of the field were split between people finishing strongly and those  resigned to walking.  The runner who had spent an impossible amount of time vomiting during the race was having one last heave for the road, and I’m surprised if he had any stomach lining left by the end.

 Immediately after finishing. Never again etc etc.

Chris helpfully pointed out it wasn’t a race-walking event and the last few laps were a blur as I dragged myself around the track as many times as possible before the finishing horn sounded. I didn’t know exactly how far I’d run and didn’t want to know. I gave it everything until the horn signalled everyone to stop and then immediately collapsed onto the grass. Afterwards Chris said it looked like all the competitors had been simultaneously shot by snipers.

Reflection
 

Expecting to be rumbled at the English Champs presentation (Photo Run and Become).

I eventually covered 127 miles, exactly the same distance as 2012. My major objective wasn’t achieved so my performance was insufficient. Winning the England Athletics Ultra Champs was a happy surprise but I knew some of the strongest runners were in Athens preparing for the Spartahlon. Still, it’s nice to win and I’m not giving the medal back.

 

I should have reached 100 miles in a faster time and I was left with too much to do in the last few hours. I was also slower in the last 27 miles than the previous year and this was due to lack of mental focus and positivity after reaching 100 miles behind schedule. I was also able to walk, talk and function after the race which has never happened before – another indicator that I hadn’t given it 100%. This race is more mental than physical and I’d been rightly exposed.

 

Both the Scottish winners had achieved the British team standard for 24 hours which was awesome, and Marco achieved the third fastest ever Scottish distance behind the legendary Don Ritchie. Geoff Oliver also covered 94 miles breaking the world 80+ yrs world record. He also broke every intermediate world record except 100km en route. Top bombing.

 

Shankara and her team had provided yet another flawless and friendly race and it couldn’t happen without the lap counters and aid station volunteers.

 

The next morning after an uncomfortable night’s sleep I was predictably incapacitated and still in a huge amount of discomfort. I was also surprisingly excited about entering Spartathlon 2014 and the retirement plans I’d made during the race seemed a very long time ago. Bollocks to normal life and bollocks to bonsai trees.

Race details here: http://run.runandbecome.com/london-running-news/self-transcendence-24hr-race-2013/

Race results here: http://run.runandbecome.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/24-Hour-Results-2013.pdf

England Athletics report here: http://www.englandathletics.org/news.asp?itemid=12118&itemTitle=Thomas+And+James+take+England+Athletics+Ultra+Distance+Championships&section=42&sectionTitle=England+Athletics+News

Kit Review

Skins A400 shorts.

Because the weather was so consistent I didn’t change clothes during the event. I used Skins A400 compression shorts as they’re very comfortable and great at preventing chaffing. I can’t get away with loose shorts for long distances and I've used these shorts several times without any problems.

 

The A400 calf guards are tried and tested from previous events and also acted as an insulating layer during the night.

Salomon Fast Wing Vest

The Salomon Fast Wing Vest is light and very breathable and I used it to reduce the effects of wind chill from the breeze. I didn’t overheat during the day and it was perfect as a light insulating layer during the night.

 

Saucony Omnis.

I’m now a convert to the Saucony Omnis. I previously used the Hurricane but the cheaper Omni felt just as cushioned and comfortable. The 8mm heel and slight rocker in the midsole allows for a very smooth, rolling foot strike and they were very comfortable, even towards the end of the race.

 

 

All Salomon, Saucony and Skins products were supplied by Royles: royles.biz

 

Hell on the Humber 12hr 2012

A Hard Day’s Night on the Costa Del Humber
 

The last time I found myself sweating in hot humidity at 2am I was in Kaileua-Kona, Hawaii, so it was the last thing I expected as I spent a night in August running out and back across the Humber Bridge in Hull. I had brought the usual array of waterproofs and thermals as I do to any event but was instead there I was wearing a short-sleeved top and pouring water over my head as I became encrusted with electrolyte deposits.

The format for HOTH was simple. Start at the visitors’ centre on the North end of the bridge and run two miles to the other side of the Humber, turn around a cone and return to the start/finish and repeat as many times as possible for 12 hours. Unlike the Lakeland 100 three weeks previously there were no navigational factors to take into account and the entire route was relatively level. The event relied on nothing more than physical effort and mental determination, so the fittest and most focussed person would win.
 

The support crews' camping area.
 

The race began at 7pm so the competitors and their support crews spent the afternoon pitching tents and setting out tables and chairs under a canopy of trees. With the still, humid air and friendly atmosphere the area felt more like a campsite in France than a car park in Hull.
 

Race briefing from Karl.
 

Once everyone was settled we had a short race briefing from Karl and then we were off. We set off beginning with a short climb which took us from the visitors’ centre up to the Humber Bridge footpath. I wasn’t at all concerned with my position for the first few hours so disassociated myself from what everyone else was doing settled into a relaxing pace. The temperature was perfect and there was a slight breeze as we returned from the Southern turn point, a far cry from the horizontal rain I had prepared myself for in the build up to the event. The sky was virtually cloudless as the race progressed into the evening and we were treated to the almost surreal sight of a vivid red sunset to the West.
 

Hull as you've never seen it!

 

For the first couple of laps the bridge appeared flat, but I gradually realised there were slight variations in incline which would become more apparent as the race progressed. Once we’d climbed from the visitors’ centre the bridge steadily continued to climb at a very slight gradient towards the first support tower where the bridge then levelled off. After reaching the Southern support tower it dropped again but continued beyond the bridge until the turn point. It was therefore slightly downhill to the turn point and therefore uphill back to the start/finish.

I was using the event as final preparation for the Sri Chinmoy 24hr track race in September. My pre-race aim was simple: I wanted to run 70+ miles which would mean I’d be on course to achieve 200km at the track race and give me the qualifying standard for the 2013 Spartathlon. As I had completed three 100 mile events in the previous five months I was confident of running the vast majority of the race with short walks introduced in the last 6 hours. To run 72 miles I had to complete 18 laps (36 crossings), so I intended to run continuously for 9 laps and then walk for 1 mile (in accordance with Prof Tim Noakes’ recommendations). 

After the continuous concentration required at the Lakeland 100 it was liberating to not have to watch my footing or consult a map on a regular basis. Many people prefer constantly changing scenery but I’m just as happy switching off and almost disappearing into myself as I run. I rarely wear a watch so simply ran at a pace I thought I could maintain throughout the race and concentrated on maintaining a high cadence with light foot strike. I was also continually resetting my posture as it’s very easy to develop a slumped position throughout an ultra especially as the hip flexors gradually stiffen.
 

I usually compete alone but for this event had talked Joe – a work colleague – to join me based on the premise that it would be great fun. For the first few laps we greeted each other with a hearty wave but approaching half way the waves were becoming smaller and less enthusiastic.
 

Camp Tosspot.

  

I was taking a drink every lap from Camp Tosspot, our personal aid station we’d established at the finish and used gels and cereal bars when I felt like it. I’d also added a salt sachet into every bottle as I have problems absorbing energy drinks at their normal concentration, and in hindsight would have added a second sachet as I was sweating so much.

The finish area developed into a psychological highlight as the race progressed. Music could be heard from the PA system towards the end of every lap and the whole area was populated with people sat around in groups on camp chairs, some dozing, some chatting and drinking beer. It almost had a continental feel to it and I kept having to remind myself where I was.
 

Costa Del Humber (Photo Toro CSC).

 

As the sunset eventually gave way to nightfall we continued running in the dark under the lights from the road which ran parallel to us. Occasionally bemused motorists would sound the horn as they passed but generally the whole experience was very peaceful and I was loving the simplicity of the event.

By the time I reached the end of lap 9 I was getting slightly fatigued but I decided to complete ten laps before stopping. I didn’t intend to sit down unless I had to attend to my feet so I took some extra food (including a handful of crisps for the salt content) and set off to complete lap 10.

Prof Noakes advocates walking at least 1 mile at appropriate times during ultras as anything shorter doesn’t provide enough recovery to be of any real benefit. In a hilly race you have periods of walking dictated to you at regular intervals but it takes a lot of patience to walk that far on a flat course, something I’d learnt in my first serious ultra at the Sri Chinmoy 24hr track race the previous September.

Joe’s cheery waves had by now ceased altogether and I was now greeted with a half-hearted nod, and we both pushed on with our respective races. The weather was still uncharacteristically warm and humid but I loved it. I was still wearing my short-sleeved Skins top and never felt the need to put move clothes on at any point in the race.
 

Nosferatu on EPO (Photo Toro CSC).

 

We’d been offered a midnight pizza delivery at registration and I was initially very keen on the idea. Usually - especially during night sections in a 100 mile event - hot salty food is the best thing imaginable but I had a feeling it would be the last thing I wanted in a comparably short race. At the end of lap 10 people were sat around eating the pizzas and I knew I’d made the right decision: a handful of biscuits, crisps or a gel every lap was giving me enough energy without causing me to feel stuffed or bloated.

By the start of lap 11 I was ready for a walk. My legs were beginning to stiffen and I could feel my hamstrings beginning to cramp, most likely due to the excessive sweat loss. I took a handful of food and a bottle with me and walked to the halfway point on the bridge, occasionally stopping to stretch my hamstrings as I went.

It can be frustrating walking while others are running but during an event of this nature everyone has periods when they need to back off. I was confident that I would make any lost time up in the second half so used the time to eat and drink and generally relax. The bridge was also becoming quieter as the 6 hour runners had finished and some of the 12 hour runners were taking breaks.

I eventually broke into a jog and after a few awkward steps began to loosen up and felt much better than I had for the previous few laps. I re-focussed on the same points again: stride rate, posture, relaxation and everything began to fall into place.   

I wasn’t aware of my position at any time in the first half of the race but had a feeling by now I was relatively high up in the field. Some of the fast starters were now walking and I’d begun to lap people. After a quick sock change and an emotional reunion with Joe at Camp Tosspot I began lap 12.

I immediately began to catch a runner who I’d seen consistently tapping out the miles since we’d started. I passed him and he eventually re-caught me so we began to run together. His name was John Nicholson and we soon established he was a full lap in front of me. Amazingly it was his first ultramarathon and he had not walked a step during the race. He was also going through a dodgy patch but after a few minutes we were both feeling much stronger and pushed on at a reasonable pace.

John was wearing a GPS and knew his split for every mile. I normally avoid any data until after the finish but I began to find it very useful as something to focus on, possibly as it was giving my brain something to finally think about. It transpired we were running the ‘downhill’ miles averaging around 9:35 min/mile and the ‘uphill’ miles in around 10:25 min/mile. As we ticked the laps off we became surprisingly consistent and were clearly benefitting from running with each other. With the pacing data we were also able to calculate how many miles we were likely to complete by the end of the 12 hours.

Digging in for the last few hours (Photo Toro CSC). 

As the sun began to appear to the East I knew every step of the course. The once seemingly flat and featureless bridge had now developed into a massively varied course packed with numerous landmarks within well defined sections. I now noticed how the gradient of the support cables changed at different points, where the ground echoed in certain places and where the best places were to place my bottle between sips. As these places varied throughout the race it became a game of epic proportions as I guessed where I had previously left the bottle. I even had the dilemma of whether to turn clockwise or anti-clockwise around the cones at the turnarounds, something which demanded increasingly more consideration as the race progressed!

Assuming there were no dramas in the last couple of hours I was on course to complete 72 miles, four miles behind John. As runners were to be stopped close to 7am if they didn’t realistically have enough time to complete a final lap before the 12 hour deadline, I was pushing as hard as possible to give myself enough time to be allowed to continue. John was still determined to run as he didn’t think he would be able to resume running but I was walking the climb out of the visitors’ centre every lap without being dropped. Different tactics work for different people.

Laps 16 and 17 were the hardest effort of the race and although we were both beginning to feel the consequences of the relentless pacing I felt very positive and focussed. More surprisingly, despite the growing fatigue my legs feeling 100% stronger than they had on lap 11.

I’d slightly pulled away from John (although he was still a lap ahead) and caught Joe towards the end of lap 17. I was now running as hard as possible and determined to reach 72 miles. Joe was finishing his race at the end of the lap and we both had a hearty man-to-man chat as we neared the finish area.
 

By the end I was very familier with this view...

I got to the finish and was asked if I was continuing. ‘’Yes please’’ was the answer and off I went to run my final lap. As I’d given so much to make the cut off for the final lap I was now suddenly running with very heavy legs. There was nobody close behind me so I knew I wouldn’t now be caught. I still wasn’t sure what position I was in but based on the 2011 results I was hopeful I’d be in the top three which I’d have been more than happy with. My pace was now gradually slowing as the effort of the previous few laps was beginning to catch up with me, and it was a huge relief to make the final turn at the Southern end of the course.

The final crossing of the Humber was uneventful and it was simply a case of driving on and ignoring the protests from my legs. By now there were very few people still running as they hadn’t made the previous lap in time to continue. I was happy to see the last of the bridge but the event had been a great experience and I’d not been bored once despite the repetitive nature of the course.

Two miles out and back: the Humber Bridge in all its glory.

I eventually reached the Northern side of the river and dropped down towards the finish for the last time. I crossed the line in second place with several minutes to spare, and finally let myself switch off for the first time in twelve hours. John finished a few minutes later having completed 76 miles, an amazing achievement for his first foray into the world of ultras.

After sinking into my camp chair at Camp Tosspot and spending a few minutes discussing the relative merits and drawbacks of racing ultramarathons with Joe, we eventually limped over to the cafe to receive our complimentary bacon rolls and a coffee. Result.
 

Swollen and painful but worth every minute.

Reflection

Karl and his team ran a very friendly event with a keen sense of humour. The course is repetitive and this suits some people more than others, but I thoroughly enjoyed the race from start to finish and liked the predictability and familiarity of each lap.

As I’d completed three 100 mile events in a relatively short space of time before HOTH I wasn’t sure if my legs would rebel at some point during the race. The fact I felt good for most of the race and finished strongly was a confidence booster for the 24hr track race (my main aim for this season) five weeks later. My average pace was around 9:55 min/mile which - although not outstanding - makes the Spartathlon qualification standard of 200km a very realistic prospect.

Race details here: http://www.torocsc.com/index.php/features/runevents/hell-on-the-humber/event-information

Kit Review

Skins A400 short sleeve top. 
 

I had brought the usual array of clothing for every weather eventuality but never had to change any clothes except my socks at the end of lap 11. I was entirely clothed in Skins A400 compression wear for three reasons. It’s very breathable, the calf guards seem to prevent calf strains during races and the shorts don’t cause any chaffing. I find loose running shorts lead to unnecessary rubbing, especially in hot weather.
 

Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12
 

I ran in my usual Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12 to provide the necessary support but also brought my Saucony Hurricane 14 which I planned to change into if I began suffering from blisters. As the sock change (and liberal re-application of Vaseline) seemed to prevent anything more than a couple of hot spots developing I didn’t change shoes.

The socks were the same as I have used for all my events this year: Gore Essential socks which are very effective at wicking sweat away from the foot and also provide extra cushioning (and reduced friction) under the foot.
 

All Brooks, Gore and Skins items were provided by Royles: www.royles.biz