OMG Orrell 12hr Ultra 2013

Impressive Toilets and the Search for the World’s Ugliest Woman

A wise man once told me the world’s ugliest women can be found in Wigan. As I wasn’t qualified to affirm or refute this statement it was with understandable trepidation I travelled to compete in The Orrell OMG 12hr Ultra on December 29^th.

The event was a relatively late inclusion in the race calendar and was an unusual date to hold a 12hr race.  However it suited me perfectly and gave many people an ideal excuse to escape their families for an entire day during the Christmas period. Although the event was at the arse end of 2013 I approached it the first event of 2014 and was motivated primarily by the prospect of racing the Spartathlon in September. I’d already reached the qualifying standard so my acceptance was dependent on entering fast enough once registration went live.

The Robin Hood: nice toilets. 

The race format was very simple: the route was a 1.19 mile anti-clockwise circuit around the roads of Orrell and the idea was to cover as many laps as possible in 12 hours, starting at 9am. The only time I’d previously completed a 12 hour race was at the 2012 Hell on the Humber night race which had consisted of numerous out-and-backs across the Humber Bridge. I ran 72 miles in that event so was determined to go further but didn’t really know what shape I was in. After a lacklustre performance at the Sri Chinmoy 24hr track race in September I’d done lower mileage but had completed most sessions on flat routes at a faster pace. Fartlek and progression runs had been my staple training program for the previous two months so I felt relatively fresh and relaxed.

Getting ready (Photo Orrell OMG).

After a quick course briefing at the Robin Hood pub HQ (which mainly involved the need to keep turning left) all runners were ready for the off, some keen and others clearly not so keen. The event was designed to help Team True Spirit raise funds for injured servicemen and there was a distinct military feel to the event – some of the injured servicemen were competing and it makes you appreciate having two fully functioning legs that some mad, bearded fucker hasn’t blown off.

Topography for each lap (Photo Orrell OMG).

We set off and immediately there was a predictable variety of pacing strategies being used. As there was also a relay event running in tandem it was impossible to know who was doing what so I spent the first few laps relaxing and enjoying the simple fact I was racing. The route was deceptively undulating. The first half was predominantly downhill and there was then a subtle climb around the back of the course until it descended back to the finish. Once we returned to the Robin Hood we entered the car park via the timing mats, passed the aid station and then continued back onto the course for another lap. The route appeared fairly boring on paper but compared to a 24hr track race it was like running naked through a fairground on acid.

I had no pacing strategy, wasn’t using heart rate and didn’t have any idea how many laps I had done. I find that during ultras the best thing is to switch off all distraction and become as relaxed and focused as possible. Because I can feel superhuman one minute and close to tears the next it’s usually more productive (and easier) if I run as I feel at the time.

Aid station in Robin Hood car park (Photo Orrell OMG).

During the first couple of hours I began lapping a few people and was also passed a few times myself. The aid station was filled with everything I needed but as I felt good I ate and drank almost nothing during this time. I’d done all my long training runs without breakfast, didn’t take any nutrition or fluids and consequently I wasn’t remotely hungry or thirsty at any point during the race.

The forecast had been for a bright, dry day with light winds. I previously had visions of us trudging away though ice and slush in howling winds so I think everyone was relieved when the sun made an appearance. The conditions were perfect and the only part of the course which felt remotely cold was near the finish as we climbed into a slight headwind. The cold weather was playing havoc with my bladder and I found myself visiting the Robin Hood toilets every few laps during the first few hours. The pub was temptingly warm and cosy and I can highly recommend the toilets: very clean, warm and well presented. 

Onwards and upwards (Photo Orrell OMG).

It makes sense to mentally separate events into several sections and the Orrell OMG was no exception. I had a very simple plan which evolved slightly during the first couple of hours:

• For the first 1-6 hrs I was going to snack and drink as appropriate, switch my mind off, stay relaxed and tick off the laps as consistently as possible

• During hours 6-10 I was to maintain the consistency and begin using caffeine

• For the final 10-12 hrs the plan was to maintain all off the above, switch the brain on, concentrate and be prepared to suffer

To break up the monotony I also planned a couple of morale boosters during the last few hours:

• At 10.5 hrs I was going to order a pint of real ale from the Robin Hood

• At 11 hrs I had a pair of lightweight shoes to change into

The morale boosters might appear trivial or pointless but it’s surprising how looking forward to an apparently simple occasion can make several hours pass much faster.

As we entered the middle third of the race I began to be more aware of how I felt which is always an ominous development. I expect to have good and bad patches in any race and it’s not uncommon to spend several hours struggling, only to feel stronger than ever in the last quarter of a race. It’s usually more psychological than physical - you’ve covered a long way and you’re not even half way into the race - but I was hoping I would have covered more miles before having to deal with it. There was a brief distraction from the discomfort as runners from the shorter events joined us. There was a 10k, half marathon and marathon starting at various times and I was quite envious as the 10k runners completed their event in the apparent blink of an eye, to then disappear into the warm pub for a Sunday lunch.

As the morning progressed people began emerging from their houses but seemed thankfully indifferent to what we were doing. New runners joined the course as relay team members swapped places, some jogging while others flew past. Many runners seemed to know each other and the event was becoming a very sociable day. I was happily doing my own thing, sticking to my plan and had absolutely no idea how well I was doing.

Map of the course: arrow indicates the Robin Hood (Photo Orrell OMG).

The undulating nature of the course was proving to be very advantageous as it constantly provided a subtle change in muscle recruitment. I find running long distances on the flat harder to maintain than if I’m constantly climbing and descending and the frequent change in gradient was something I really appreciated throughout the event.

At halfway I began using Coke and opened a can of Relentless. I was now in the routine of running three laps and then having a drink, picking a handful of food and then continuing to run as I ate. I’d brought my own supplies so – combined with the nutrition at the aid station - had the choice of gels, cake, chocolate, crisps and fruit salad.

The middle third of the race continued without any drama until I began to feel a hotspot under the ball of my right foot which, considering I’d covered my feet in Vasaline before the event, was a very unwelcome surprise. I usually find hotspots develop into blisters very quickly and the subsequent miles become exponentially harder as a result. To delay the inevitable I stopped for the first time in the race, re-applied the Vasaline and changed socks.

The course became busier as the day progressed. People I’d seen leaving the house in the morning were returning home and we seemed to be trapped in our own time zone as real life passed us by. The only person who seemed remotely interested in us was a dishevelled old man who seemed blissfully confused and happy to talk to anyone at all.

As we entered the final third of the race I began to feel stronger and less aware of the fatigue I was feeling, possibly due to the caffeine and definitely because I knew the majority of the race had been cracked. Another bonus was that for some inexplicable reason the hotspot had settled down so previous thoughts of walking had disappeared and I was now completely focussed on running as hard as I could for the remaining four hours. I still didn’t know my position but was aware that I was gaining places as the miles passed - many people were by now walking and those who were passing me were clearly relay runners.

As darkness arrived we donned our high-viz vests and continued our journey under the streetlights. The temperature had dropped slightly so I added another layer and the routine of running three laps and then fuelling continued without incident. My pace was consistent, I felt great and seemed to be gaining more energy the further I ran. Visits to the toilet were becoming progressively more enjoyable as they provided a brief sanctuary from the cold. The problem was that it was full of people looking very warm and comfortable, all tucking into hot food with a pint of beer.

 The show goes on under the street lights (Photo Orrell OMG).

My first morale booster was scheduled for 10.5hrs into the race and the laps flew by as beer o’clock approached. The aid station volunteers had been very helpful all day so I gave them a fiver, completed another lap and returned to a pint and a half of real ale waiting for me. Whatever anyone ever recommends you to hydrate with is all lies. Nothing refreshes you physically or mentally as effectively as a good beer. Everything immediately felt easier and I stopped for a few gulps every couple of laps for the remainder of the race.

As the race approached the last hour there seemed to be increasingly fewer people on the course. Many people had pulled out but most appeared to have stayed to watch friends still running and the finish area was increasingly lively compared to the rest of the course. My foot was still sore but I’d still somehow managed to avoid blisters developing. The plan was to still swap shoes for the final hour so I stopped for the second time to change into a pair of Saucony Kinvara. They were noticeably lighter but within a minute of running the hotspot suddenly filled with fluid and burst. Hurty feet always guarantee a certain amount of unrelenting misery but as I had less than an hour to run the endorphins, caffeine and alcohol were successfully managing to numb the pain.

It was around this time I first realised where I was in the race. “You’re in second, he’s only just in front”. I didn’t know who it was at first but eventually realised it was Chris Collins, a runner who’d blasted the early miles and I’d previously assumed was a relay runner. He must have slowed considerably later in the race, only to recover to run strongly again in the final hours. I ran the last few laps as quickly as possible to reel Chris in but never saw him at all in the distance. My legs felt surprisingly strong and for the first time during an ultra I felt it was my leg speed and running efficiency which was holding me back rather than fatigue.

Time for a sit down: with Paul at the finish (Photo Orrell OMG).

As I approached 9pm I completed a lap with a few minutes to spare which meant I could continue around once more, the pace being irrelevant for the final lap.  I relaxed and enjoyed my final run around the streets of Orrell, and passed the bewildered old man for the very last time.

Race details here: http://theorrellomg.co.uk/
Team True Spirit details here: http://www.truespirit.org.uk/

Reflection

I’d felt very strong in the final hours of the race and was pleased with the way my body had reacted during and after the event. I eventually covered 80 miles which a PB and was particularly satisfying, especially when the time of year was taken into consideration. I’d taken on fewer calories than expected so the sessions during the previous months designed to improve fat burning efficiency had clearly been effective.

More importantly I ever saw any particularly ugly women during my 12 hours in Wigan, and the ones involved in the race all seemed very nice. Runcorn, on the other hand, is a very different story…

Recovery drinks my arse: what everyone should eat after an ultra...

Kit Review

Saucony Mirage.

Changing to a lighter shoe was a good idea and the Saucony Mirage is a great lightweight shoe that still offers medial support. The 4mm heel drop allows for a smooth, rolling foot strike and for shorter events it would be ideal.

Because it has a relatively firm, responsive midsole it was very unforgiving on hotspots after eleven hours of running so in hindsight I would have used a Brooks Pure Cadence which is softer underfoot.

Salomon Exo Motion baselayer.

As the weather was cold(ish) but dry I used a very basic layering system. I wanted all skin covered and all materials had to be warm against the skin. I didn’t need anything too warm or waterproof. The Salomon long-sleeved Exo Motion top is a fantastic baselayer which is unbelievably stretchy and well fitting. Because it has a woollen feel it doesn’t feel cold against the skin like many other items with a higher Lycra content and was perfect for a December event.

Salomon Fast Wing Vest.

I wore a Salomon Fast Wing gillet as a windproof layer on my torso and it was just thick enough to prevent me feeling any wind chill during the race. If it was any windier I might have used something with a Windstopper front panel.

Salomon Momentum tights.

To avoid having cold, Lycra fabric on my legs I chose my Salomon Momentum II tights. They’re relatively thin and light but have a brushed internal surface which felt warm from the outset. They would be slightly too warm for a spring/autumn event but were perfect for running in December. 

All Salomon and Saucony 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

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/