Good news everyone, this is going to be a quick one, because I've been at home all weekend. Yes, you heard right, for the first time since the 14th of May, I've had a whole weekend in my own bed, by choice (I'm not including the weekend when "The Emma" gave me the lurgy, as that wasn't by choice!
What the hell's going on I hear you all saying. What's he playing at? You can't have adventures from your own bed and that's a fact! Well, mid week I suddenly realised that it's only a week until my big summer adventure and as of Friday, I'd done nothing in the line of packing, route planning, bike cleaning etc, and at the same time, I'd been neglecting everything else while I gallivanted around enjoying myself. To that end it's been a weekend of odd jobs and sorting stuff out. The allotments looking much better, the overgrown Hollyhocks and dried out Alliums from the gardens at home have been taken to the tip for composting, and most importantly I've spent a good few hours pulling bikes to bits for a good clean and overhaul, so I should be ready to go again by next weekend. While I was at it, I've also sorted out my packing for my next adventure too (more details to follow) which always seems to take forever to sort out. So without further ado lets have a look at some pictures from this weekends endeavours. Oh, but before we do, I did get out on the bike Sunday. Well, I can't have you all think I'm getting lazy in my old age can I. Although to be honest, there's not much to say about that either. It was more of a shakedown ride than anything else. Having had my bike in far more bits than it's ever supposed to be in, I thought it would be sensible to put some miles on it before next weekend just in case, and besides it gave me the opportunity to check that all my kit fitted on the bike too, which also seemed sensible. So, for the second time, without further ado, lets stop talking and start looking.
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Well, Summer seems to be over again, or at least situation normal has resumed, with the temperature returning to something approaching normality. Without wishing to tempt fate, we still haven’t had any real rain of note for a long time, and everything is looking pretty dry and parched, including the allotment, which has resulted in lots of lugging watering cans around. Everything seems to have doubled in size in the last few weeks in the summer sun though, so it can’t be a bad thing.
We can’t really complain about the weather though, although I suspect that having been nice for the last couple of months, that’s all going to come to a crashing change in a couple of weeks when I’m off work! So, apart from the weather, what are we going to talk about this week then? Well, you’ll all be pleased to know that it was my birthday on Sunday, and we can’t let such a momentous occasion pass without fanfare can we. How to celebrate such an occasion as my 50th then? Party? Weekend away? Hibernate? Pub? Sit on the sofa eating biscuits and watching TV? No. I had a far stupider idea! When I was running home a couple of weeks ago, it dawned on me that I could do 50KM run in recognition of my 50th. Then I thought, that’s not too big a challenge, how about adding another 500Km on the bike onto it and make a weekend of it? And then I realised that if I did a 50K run, by adding in a run to work and back in the same week, I’d have 50 miles of running through the week, a stand-alone 50 Km run and the ubiquitous 500Km on the bike, giving me all the 50’s on my 50th. How’s that for a stupid idea? Stupid idea or not, the seed was firmly planted in my mind. The first minor hurdle to overcome was the two runs to work to get the necessary miles in for the running stint. Nothing to serious there, it’s something that I do every week, so it shouldn’t be a problem, and to be honest it wasn’t, except for one small detail. The only option was to run home Tuesday and back in on Wednesday morning, and if you cast your mind back a few days, Tuesday was officially the hottest day ever, and I just happen to finish work at 16:00, when the day was at it’s hottest. I’ll confess that sat at work, I very nearly changed my mind and discarded the whole stupid idea, but in for a penny, in for a pound, I finally plucked up the courage to get out there. Cramming as much extra water into my backpack as possible and switching my routes around to make as much use as possible from every bit of available shade, I took an easy plod home, and to be honest it wasn’t as bad as I’d been expecting. Yes, it was hot, yes it was a stupid idea, and yes it was hard work, but it wasn’t that bad, and it got me the first 10 miles for the planned 50. Back to work on Wednesday morning for the next 10 then. Even when I set off at 05:45 it wasn’t much cooler than it had been the day before, in fact it was probably worse, as the humidity had climbed considerably. But, again, by taking it easy and plodding it out at a steady pace, I had another 10 miles in the bag and a full 24 hours recovery time before the next stint. Which was lucky, because my legs didn’t seem to appreciate the effort and were rapidly starting to say, “what’s the point of all this”? Next up then, 50Km (31 miles), for which I’d stuck a cheeky days leave in for Thursday. With the temperature still pretty high and the forecast for another hot and humid day, an early start seemed sensible, and I dragged myself out of bed at an unreasonable hour for a day off, hobbled down the stairs on stiff and unwilling legs, and generally felt sorry for myself for a few minutes until I woke up properly and remembered that this is supposed to be fun! Making the most of the cooler morning air, I was leaving the house just as “The Emma” got in from her nightshift at 06:15, heading for the Basingstoke Canal. Now, I’ll have mentioned before that I’m not a massive fan of canal towpath running. It’s too flat, there’s nothing to look at except more path and canal, and the path tends to be hard packed, battering your feet after a while. For today’s purposes though, it was ideal, flat, fast, loads of shops along the way to keep the water topped up and provide tasty treats, and more importantly, it follows the main train line, so all I had to do was follow the path until I’d got the required mileage and then hop on the train back home again – Simples! And simples, it was. In fact, there’s not much to say that I haven’t said before. The miles ticked steadily along, the canal was as beautiful, picturesque, dull and boring as it always is, and despite the temperature being somewhat on the high side, by taking it slow and steady it was an uneventful run. Or as uneventful as 32 miles can be! So uneventful, that by 12:00 I’d covered the required mileage and was sat at the train station waiting for the train and by 13:00 was back in Basingstoke, where “The Emma” kindly picked me up from the station, saving me the walk home (well, she actually wanted a lift herself, so killed 2 birds with 1 stone and having picked me up, I in turn dropped her off (teamwork makes the dream work as we say)). Thursday afternoon and that’s a 50 km run plus 50 miles of running for the week knocked off (50Km = 32 miles plus 2x 10 Mile work commutes), leaving plenty of time to sort out my bike and kit and get an early night ready for the weekend’s adventures.
Unfortunately, I had a work commitment Friday morning, so I couldn’t extend my weekend. However, a lunchtime finish beckoned, and having loaded my bike Thursday night, the ride into work did wonders for freeing off my stiff, tired legs, (and those few hours of clock watching gave them ample time to stiffen up again), before I managed to escape for the weekend!
Out of work by 12:00 I was off, the plan being to head towards Exmouth, before turning back for home, which should equate to 500km (310 miles) if my calculations were correct. This wasn’t supposed to be a slog fest though, it was my birthday after all, and even before I set off, I was happy that if I wasn’t feeling it, I’d cut it short. To which end the route I’d planned crossed over itself a few times in a large figure of 8 and had plenty of options to just cut across and pick up the return route if required. I’d just see how I felt and go from there!
Familiar roads for the first couple of hours made for some easy riding, and the miles fairly flew by as I made my way steadily Eastwards. First to Winchester and then Salisbury where the first stop of the afternoon beckoned in the form of a water resupply and doughnut break. Hunger pangs diverted for a short while, I braved the Friday afternoon traffic to pick my way through the madness that is the Salisbury ring road and eventually popped safely out the other side, picking up where I left off with more pleasant rural roads as I continued Eastwards, chasing the afternoon sun.
Steadily progressing as tea time drew closer, the weather gods decided to play their trump card and after weeks of sweltering under a blazing sun, the first spots of rain landed on the road ahead, accompanied by that familiar smell of rain on hot tarmac that accompanies a summer shower. Spotting some overhanging trees I pulled over and huddled under their protective canopy, trying to stay out of the worst of the rain as the first few spots turned into a heavy summer downpour. Eventually the weight of rain overcame the tree canopy which formed my protective shelter, and as the downpour eased slightly, I decided that I'd better man up and get wet or I was likely to be stood there for a long while. Within 30 minutes the summer had returned and by the time I arrived in Gillingham, I'd pretty much dried out, which was lucky as I didn't have a waterproof coat with me, and I'd have been in for a miserable few hours if the rain hadn't stopped when it did (that will teach me. Or maybe not).
Leaving Gillingham just before 18:00, I had my sights set on Sherbourne as my final destination for the day. My plan being to get some tea there, resupply for the night, then find somewhere just the other side to put the hammock up and get some sleep.
And a reasonable plan it was too as I made good time arriving by 20:00, which left what should have been plenty of time to get something to eat and find a nice spot for the night before it got dark. Replenish the biscuit supply in preparation for a bedtime treat, top up the water bottles ready for a morning brew, and push on through the other side of Sherbourne, safe in the knowledge that I'd be tucked up in bed in 30 minutes. Or maybe not! Normally, once your off the beaten track, there's loads of little hideaways, perfectly sized and almost designed for popping up a hammock and whiling the night away. Today though, nothing, nadda, nichts, nowt, not a single suitable spot anywhere to be seen, and I'm not picky. Mile after mile of nothing, no more than a single tree at any one time, and that's not a lot of good for a hammock that's for sure. With darkness rapidly descending I was starting to get a bit desperate and was beginning to think that it was going to be a cold night on the floor wrapped in my tarp. 21:00 came and went, followed soon after by 21:30, when eventually, with 118 miles covered for the day, I spotted a footpath that looked promising. Dismounting I pushed the bike up the path for a few meters and there it was, not the best spot, but two trees just far enough apart to get the hammock up. That'll have to do, I was too tired to go on, and being fully dark by this point it was well past bedtime!
If there's one thing a long day in the saddle guarantees, it's a good nights sleep, and despite my less than salubrious location I slept well, only awakening as the sun penetrated the trees around me. Waking me as we did for a millennia before the advent of alarm clocks with it's warming rays and gentle dawn light.
Waking up with the dawn has a magical feel to it and as I got a brew on and then sat, swaying contentedly in my hammock, there was nowhere that I'd rather be. It's not all about enjoying myself though and today was going to be a big day, not only mileage wise but hilly too, and if I was going to stay on track then I needed to get going. To that end I was on the road just after 6 warming up stiff legs and admiring the scenery around me, bathed in the soft early morning light, on what showed promising signs of being another nice day. With the miles ticking happily along, I was just starting to think about stopping for a brew and second breakfast when fate intervened and I rounded a corner to come upon the rear end of a pack of hounds accompanied by a couple of horse riders out for their morning exercise, totally blocking the road. Slowing to avoid startling them, I was just considering my next move when low and behold what should appear but a perfectly placed bench, complete with stunning view over the surrounding countryside. Well that wasn't a hard decision to make, seat, view, blocked road, best stop and get the kettle on, timing doesn't get much better than that!
Refreshed and revitalised I pushed on, heading slowly towards the coast and as the miles built slowly the landscape changed. Flat, open, arable fields, slowly replaced by small, neat, fields of lush green grass, heralding a change in terrain as the flatlands gave way to the steep sided valleys that Devon is renowned for.
By late morning I was sweating my way up the incredibly steep climb out of Sidmouth, far to steep to ride I was reduced to walking and even that was nigh on impossible. A dozen paces forward, pushing hard on the handlebars to propel the weight of the bike up the incline, then pause to get my breath back and repeat multiple times, as I inched my way slowly skywards, a situation that would be repeated many times as the day progressed as I slowly traversed this beautiful part of the country. Eventually though, with the smell of the sea filling my nostrils and a strong sea breeze keeping the temperature down I crested the top and started the long fast descent towards the days destination. A few more miles under my wheels, and just before 13:00 Exmouth and the days destination hove into view.
Hmmmmmm, well I'm here, now what? Turn around and head back the other way that's what. Many of my adventures are more about the journey than the destination and today was no exception. I'd seen the sea, I'd got a picture of a sign that said Exmouth and there was plenty more to see on the journey back home.
The days plan had always been to try and get back to roughly where I'd started from in the morning, breaking the trip down in 3 roughly equal legs, and that meant getting back towards and hopefully past Yeovil before bed time. Onward then, standing looking at the sea or wondering what to do in Exmouth wasn't going to achieve my aims. The afternoon slowly passed with more of the same. Ride the flat bits, roll down the hills and slog up the steep sides, pushing when it became too steep. The days average moving speed of less than 11 MPH gives you some idea of the terrain that I was crossing as the day progressed. It's normally fairly easy to maintain an average of closer to 15MPH without too many problems, so 11's pretty slow! Those steep sided hills and valleys are incredibly pretty though, which more than makes up for the extra effort required, and the long steep climbs leave you with plenty of time to stop and stare as you try to get your breath back. Making what could easily become a depressing slog fest a voyage of discovery, with a new vista around every corner and a plethora of pretty villages dotted along the way to maintain your interest. Eventually though, around 19:00, with tired legs and weary muscles, I rolled into Yeovil, found a shop to get some tea and supplies for the night and contemplated my next move. Not that there was much to contemplate, push on and find somewhere to spend the night. Which, having knocked a few more miles off as day turned slowly to night I did. Finally stopping for the day with 124 hilly miles under my belt.
A slow start with an extra brew on Sunday morning soon found me pushing up one last hill to climb onto the plateau at King Alfred's Tower. Although to be honest, I've no idea if there is a tower or if there is what it looks like, as the top was shrouded in low cloud, on what was a humid, damp morning.
Last final killer climb over and done with and it's plain sailing from here, with flatter, faster, roads taking me first towards Warminster and the onward to skirt the edge of Salisbury plain and Stonehenge, before picking up the more familiar roads to take me home, where birthday cake and fish and chips for tea awaited my return. Just what a hungry, aging cyclists wants on his birthday! So that's it, mission accomplished, a 50 Km mid week run to give a weekly running total of 50 miles, plus a 500km weekend away on the bike, in what just happened to be 50 hours. There's quite a few 50's there in celebration of my 50th. Oh and as a postscript, I've just noticed that the midweek 50Km run was my 50th Marathon! Strange how things work out, isn't it.
I suppose that after a few weeks where my adventures have been rather running focused it’s about time that I got back on my bike. And what better way to do that, than The Devils Punch Bowl 200Km Audax. Now, I've ridden this ride before, both in its 200Km form and the shorter 100Km route, which makes a nice morning out, and the thing that I remembered most from my previous outings, was that it’s hilly, nothing stupidly steep or long, but just lots of up and down, which tends to sap your strength and morale somewhat.
Before we even get to the start though, there’s the little matter of getting there. Normally this would involve a few miles in the van and an overnight stay, but why drag the van all that way when there’s another option. Bike! With the weather set to be sunny and hot (a bit too hot in fact) it seemed like an ideal opportunity to pack up the bivvy stuff and combine a bit of Audaxing with a bit of camping, and cycle to the start, and obviously if you’re cycling to the start, you’ve got to cycle back too, for double the fun! The only slight issue with this brilliant plan, being that the Audax was on Sunday and I should have been in work on Monday. That’s not an insurmountable problem though, and with a little bit of rejigging of appointments, I managed to get a days leave on Monday, leaving me free to play bikes all weekend!
Being at home on a Friday night was a novel experience and after popping up to the allotment for a good watering session and an easy evening chilling out with “The Emma” I was up bright and early on Saturday morning. It’s only 60 miles down to Steyning and there wasn’t much point in setting off too early, so taking advantage of the cool morning air, I slipped my running shoes on and plodded my way around 13 miles of local countryside before it got to hot. Getting back home just in time for a brew and second breakfast with “The Emma” who was just getting ready for work (unlucky).
Run done, showered, bike packed and hanging baskets watered, there didn’t seem to be much point in putting off the inevitable much longer. So, just before 14:00 I was off for a slow ride down to Steyning. With the sun shining brightly in a clear blue sky, it was hot going, pushing steadily uphill from home to crest numerous hills, as my route made its way South-East, towards, and then through, the South Downs National Park. A quick stop in Liss, to pick up more water and the obligatory ice cream, made the going slightly more bearable and the miles soon started to rack up, as my destination drew steadily closer. In fact, by 19:00, after a slow and steady ride, I was stopped on the verge of my destination, picking up supplies to see me through the night (water and biscuits, well you’ve got to have some pleasures in life), before pushing on to find a quiet and secluded spot to spend the night. And a quiet and secluded spot it was too. Tucked up just off a quiet bit of country lane, well hidden in the roadside trees, with a gorgeous view of open countryside from my hammock. I spent a very enjoyable hour watching a large herd of deer moving across the fields in front of me, whilst swaying contentedly in the breeze, with a brew and endless supply of biscuits, before getting an early night, ready for yet another early start in the morning.
After a peaceful night, the dawn broke with the promise of another stunningly hot day and I was up bright and early, sat watching the sun rise in the still cool early morning air, with yet another brew and the feeling of contentment that only comes when you at peace with the world and fully immersed in your surroundings.
Hunger sated with a light breakfast, and kit packed away, leaving nothing to suggest that I’d ever been there, I made the short journey down to the start location in plenty of time to have a brew and a bit of a chat with the days organiser and my fellow riders, before we were released for the days adventures, bang on time at 08:00. As I mentioned earlier I've done this ride before and it’s a really nice route, initially following along the North side of the South Downs, before heading into the South Downs National Park to visit Cocking, where we turn North to head to Petersfield and the first of the days stops.
With the sun shining brightly, endless fields of cereals reaching ripeness in the heat of the morning and some lovely, quiet, country roads to traverse, those first miles flew by and it was still surprisingly early in the day that I found myself replenishing my water supplies and getting a proof of passage receipt from the petrol station which seems to be a regular feature on Audax rides in Petersfield, prior to pushing on.
I had a recollection of the next leg being a long uphill drag along poorly surfaced roads from my last outing, but today, whilst the route did travel endlessly uphill, the road surface seemed far better and the traffic far lighter. Maybe it was just the sunshine keeping people at home, or maybe I was just feeling stronger than this time last year, either way the miles up to the Devils Punch Bowl passed pleasantly enough and It wasn’t long before I was traversing the Bowl itself, scene of many previous rides and runs, admiring the expansive views across Surrey and beyond. After the long slog of a climb to get up to the Punch Bowl comes the reward, and the couple of miles of downhill taking us to the next checkpoint at Thursley passed in a blur. The offer of tea and home-made cake almost made me stop for longer than was required to gather the obligatory stamp on my Brevet card and quick refill of my water bottles, but with the day rapidly going from pleasantly hot to sweltering, it seemed prudent to push on, getting as many miles under my belt as possible before the heat of the day really slowed things down.
he next legs a long one, taking us from Thursley right across country to the most Easterly point of the ride at Pease Pottage, where the idea of an ice cream was already playing through my mind! But first though there was the small matter of yet more climbing as I made my way through the heat of the day across the Surrey Hills.
A brief stop in Cranleigh for water and a sandwich, eaten whilst trying unsuccessfully to find a bit of shade from the relentless sun. And then plod on, heading slowly eastwards whilst the sun did it’s best to burn off the sun lotion that I’d been liberally applying and the grit and grime from the road did it’s best to stick itself to the remaining bits, resulting in a horrible, gritty, dirty coating on each and every bit of exposed skin! Enough about the state of my legs though. The miles between Cranleigh and Pease Pottage were hard going with the sun beating down and the road surface reflecting the heat back up again, bringing the temperature up to a new high. The only respite being the odd bit of shade created by overhanging trees or high hedgerows. I spend enough time complaining about it being cold, so you’d think I’d be taking full advantage of the amazing temperatures were experiencing this year, and, yes, whilst I’m happier being warm, the heat is pretty draining and makes what should be easy miles hard going. Eventually though Pease Pottage hove into view and pulling into the services I finally treated myself to the ice cream that I’d been thinking about for so long!
Rested and resupplied, it was onto the final leg. Due south for a few miles then a right turn to track back along the South Downs to return to the start, and a pleasant few mile it was too. Oh, ok it was hilly, hot and my legs were starting to complain, but coming back along the flatter roads to the North Side of the Downs, under the shade of the overhanging trees was lovely and one of the highlights of the ride for me!
All good things can’t last forever though and a little under 10 hours since setting off I was back at the start getting the final stamps on my Brevet card and congratulating the organiser on another superb day out, his great route choices and the exceptional bit of cake which seemed a just reward for the day’s endeavours.
All that remained was the couple of miles back to my little overnight hideaway, which passed easily enough.
Hammock back up, a bit of a stretch, wash the grime from my body as best I could with a limited amount of water (it’s amazing how clean you can get with a cupful of water and a cloth). A brew, or two, and a very pleasant evening swinging gently in my hammock, watching the day turn to night as the sun set and the world slowly cooled down after what had been a real scorcher with wall-to-wall sunshine. Now what’s not to like about that for a day out I ask you?
The forecast for Monday was for even hotter weather than Sunday with the possibility of records being broken. So, after what was probably a better night’s sleep than most people had whilst they stifled in the heat and I swung gently in the cooling breeze, I was up with the lark, looking to get as many miles in as possible before it got too hot.
The best laid plans of mice and men never pass first contact though, and today was no exception. By the time I was on the road at 06:30 it was already T shirt weather and getting hotter by the second. Nothing to serious for today though, just a case of retracing my steps from Saturday afternoon, back across all those hills that had seemed like such hard work in the afternoon sun and proved no easier today as the morning wore on and the temperature skyrocketed! A brief stop at 08:00 for an unusual second breakfast (cheese rolls), provided the opportunity to sit with my feet up admiring the view in the morning sun, although I say morning, it was still before most people drag themselves out of bed on a workday, let alone a day off!
Another few miles, and just before 10:00 I was back in Liss, taking advantage of that ice cream shop again, strictly under the pretence of having to stop for water I’ll hasten to add. But safe in the knowledge that those calories would soon be burned off as it’s a generally uphill slog from here to Medstead, which is within a few miles of home.
Up, up, up went the road in front of me, whilst, up, up, up went the temperature as the morning progressed. I mentioned earlier the heat takes it out of you and there were plenty of times as the morning wore on that I opted to walk up hills that I would normally ride up, just to get some respite from the sun and reduce the effort that I was having to expend. Hugging the little bits of shade that were available, I made slow progress. Better the tortoise than the hare, and with sweat dripping from my brow as the sun beat down, I finally reached the cricket ground at Medstead, where a welcome bench in the shade provided some respite from the sun. That’s the hard work done though, it’s more downhill than up from here on, and it wasn’t long before I was rolling along familiar roads with a cooling breeze blowing through my shirt courtesy of the faster speed on the flatter roads, something which was sorely missing during all those uphill struggles. A few more easy miles, a bit of traffic jam avoidance as I came through Basingstoke, and by lunchtime I was back home, debating whether it was too hot for a brew or not (obviously not, it’s never too hot for a brew!). What a great weekend then, 250 miles on the bike, 13 miles of running, 2 nights swinging gently in my hammock whilst the world sweltered indoors, and wall to wall sunshine. Personally, I’d say that’s not a bad use of a weekend plus a day’s annual leave. Oh, and I had 3 ice creams and it doesn’t get much better than that by my book!
Friday
Good news everyone, I'm better. Well, I'm feeling better than I was last week so that's almost there, right? To be honest I'm still not feeling 100%, but after a few early nights and a bit of coughing and spluttering through a few short runs and rides to work, I'm probably about as good as can be expected, considering that last weekend I felt like death warmed up. And to be honest, that's lucky, as having already cancelled one thing last weekend, I've got an action packed weekend of stupidity lined up for this weekend and I can't afford to keep on cancelling stuff. So without further ado, I give you this weekends stupidity in the form of the Wayfarers Walk, 100Km of beautiful walking path through some of Hampshire's most picturesque countryside. Starting from the highest point at Combe Gibbet and ending up (in this case) overlooking the Solent, Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight. I can hear you all thinking now, "100km (62) miles of ideal walking territory, sounds like a lovely couple of days out with a bit of bivvying in between, brilliant". And your right it would be, but that would also be far to easy, so instead I'm joining some other like minded lunatics and those lovely people from Second Wind Running to run it instead. Yes, you did hear right, that's run 62 miles of the Wayfarers Walk, on what is probably going to be one of the hottest days of the year, when I'm still not feeling 100% and ran 75 miles just 14 short days ago. Oh and to top it off, it's an 04:30 start to get the transport from the finish line up to the starting point, which is why I'm sat in the van, in a very picturesque car park at the top of Portsdown Hill, watching the sun slowly setting over the Solent and thinking that I should really go to bed, as I've got to get up again in a minute. Like with all my recent big events, I'm a bit on edge about this one. I know that I can do the distance, but I suspect that the heats going to play a big part in the days proceedings and I'm not a lover of running in the hot. That coupled with my still not feeling 100% means I'm not really sure how things are going to turn out. I suppose there's only one way to find out though, and to that end, I'll be back tomorrow (or just after this pretty picture) to let you know how things went!
Sunday (Post Saturdays fun)
The alarm woke me from a fitful slumber at 03:00 Saturday Morning, having laid awake for what seemed like the majority of the night listening to boy racers using the road outside as a racetrack, and the nocturnal comings and goings of those that seem to use remote parking spots for uses other than sleeping! Although I suspect that in all honesty, I did probably have a good few hours sleep, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system getting up when it was still dark. A brew and a light Breakfast, and then just as dawn was breaking, I made my way to the pickup point ready for the journey up to the start. I’ve said it before and I’ll no doubt say it again but it’s not until you have to drive the distance that your about to run, that the enormity of the task ahead seems to set in and today was no exception. Comfortably ensconced in the minibus, with a brew in my flask to sup on the way, the journey seemed to take a lifetime. But then I suppose 100Km is a fair old slog however you’re traveling it. Think of somewhere 62 miles from where you live and then think about driving there, now think about cycling there, now think about running there. H’mmmm, long way isn’t it! Eventually though, after following gradually smaller roads for far too long, we arrived at the start point at Combe Gibbet, ready to link up with those far more sensible people who had somehow made their own way to the start (and probably had an extra hour in bed), just in time for the pre-race brief and grand departure.
Just after 06:00, with the sun still getting fully established in the sky, but the temperatures unseasonably warm for the time of day, we were off. Down hill for the first few meters, leading to a stupidly fast pace considering the miles still to cover, (setting the scene for the rest of the morning) before a slight climb on a flinty, well-trodden and wide track.
A short road section, then on to more foot friendly, grassy, single track, by which time the pace had settled slightly, the two front runners had long since disappeared in a cloud of dust and I had fallen into a fast but steady pace alongside the 4th place runner. A missed turn after another couple of miles saw the 3rd place man go straight on and by the time I’d shouted him back, and he’d turned around, we were up to 3rd/4th. Not how I’d planned my day to start and the pace I was running at was far from sustainable, but I felt Ok, and although already hot, it seemed sensible to try and get a few fast miles in whilst the terrain was generally downhill and the temperature manageable, to gain a bit of a buffer and allow myself the opportunity to slow down through the heat of the day. Shortly after the first checkpoint at Watership Down (mile 13) I’d left my companion behind on a steady uphill climb and continued to draw out a lead on him as the miles built. A lead which I lost whilst attending to a call of nature shortly after, but subsequently quickly regained before we reached the outskirts of Basingstoke, at which point I never saw him again, moving myself temporarily up to 3rd place. Trails familiar from a thousand other adventures as I made my way around the outskirts of Basingstoke towards the next checkpoint, allowed for some easy running, with no fear of navigation errors, and I must have slowly increased my lead over 4th place, as by the time I reached the mile 24 checkpoint at Dummer he was nowhere in sight. Refill my water bladder (that’s at least 3 litres I’d got through in the first 4 hours). Treat myself to a bit of banana bread, which had been lovingly home made by one of the ladies manning the checkpoint. A quick bit of banter, grab a handful of salty pretzels and off again, still unexpectedly in 3rd place. Another mile or so and my watch ticked through the marathon mark in a touch over 4 hours, far too fast for the distance still to cover and the temperature, but I was still feeling good and pushed on.
With 4 hours done it was just after 10 O’clock and although the morning had clouded over, the temperature and humidity continued to rise. I could feel the sweat running down my back under my running vest, soaking into my lightweight top and dripping back off to splash against my legs as I made my way up yet another steady gradient. The heat rapidly evaporated the sweat off my face to leave a salty residue, and cramp nipped at my calves despite constantly drinking, dehydration starting to play its part in the day’s proceedings.
An additional and unexpected water stop at Brown Candover, where the fast-flowing stream that normally looks so inviting is currently bone dry, provided the opportunity to get yet more fluids on board and showed some excellent planning from the organisers. Planning which was evident throughout the day, with numerous additional water stops laid on and every marshal having plenty of spare water to help stave of the oppressive heat. A short while later I pulled into the checkpoint at the halfway mark, to be joined shortly afterwards by the person I’d shouted back after their wrong turn much earlier. That surprised me for 2 reasons; Firstly, how fresh he still looked compared to how I was feeling at that moment in time, and secondly when I’d left my earlier companion he was in 4th, yet clearly wasn’t now?
Replenishing my running vest from the bag I’d packed this morning, knowing that it would be available at this stop, and getting as much water as I could on board, I departed just ahead of my new opponent, knowing full well that I wouldn’t be in 3rd place for much longer.
As predicted, I held my place for a couples of miles, but as we started to climb towards Alresford he breezed past me, making me look like I was stood still, and I happily waved goodbye to any thoughts of a podium finish. Not to worry though, at that point it felt like a good thing, taking all the pressure to keep pushing hard off. Pushing hard being a task that was becoming increasingly difficult now that the sun had burned off the light cloud cover from the morning and was starting to really beat down. A situation which I really didn’t need, knowing that the afternoon stretch was more exposed than the terrain that I had already crossed. Coming into Alresford, running along the beautifully clear and refreshingly cool looking River Itchen I could feel myself flagging. Spotting a Shop in Alresford I stopped and grabbed a bottle of pop. The few minutes of lost time wasn’t going to hurt, and besides I was likely to lose far more time if I didn’t do something about my lack of energy. Swigging the sweet sugary pop and pulling some fruit bread from my pack (my latest running superfood) I made my way through the town, avoiding the visitors enjoying their days out in the sun, and pushed on out the other side, back into fully exposed countryside. Pushing slowly on through the early afternoon heat, the next few miles were a bit of a slog, but once the sugar rush from that bottle of pop kicked in I was back to a steady jog and made reasonable time to the next checkpoint at Hinton Ampner, where more water and some lovely, salty, marmite sandwiches on cheap white bread proved to be just what the doctor ordered to revive my flagging legs.
With over 40 miles done, it was just going to be a case of plodding on to the end now, a task that was easier to say than do, as by this time it was getting really hot. Constantly sipping from my camelback and dowsing my hat in water helped but provided little respite from the heat, and as I mentioned earlier these last few legs were across mostly open farmland, all of which was slowly baking in the summer sun, the heat being reflected back from the parched grass and slowly ripening cereal crops.
A brief stop to chat with a family out walking provided a welcome distraction and with the no time pressure, my being well ahead of the cut off time, provided a nice interlude from the task in hand. These conversations often have a familiar feel now. “How far are you going”, “What, really” in disbelief, followed by other questions and normally wrapped up with a “good luck” and ”you must be mad”. I can always spare the time to stop and chat though, whether that’s to marshals or random strangers, there’s never enough reason not to stop, answer their questions, and be civil and polite, something were often missing in our busy lives. Much as I’d like to stand around chatting, that’s not going to get those last miles done and I pushed on again.
Trying to recall it now, I’m a bit confused about the actual timings and locations of the next few events, but I think it was between the checkpoints at Droxford and Denmead (miles 50-56) although I may be mistaken. It may not even have happened in this order, or at the points mentioned below, but in my defence, I was starting to suffer, the day was getting unbearably hot, and I’ll happily admit it was struggling! What I do know is that what’s below did happen, but I don’t know where!
Firstly, I fell, tripping over a tree root as I made my way along a rough bit of track alongside what I think was the River Meon (which I think puts me as past Droxford). I’d almost tripped a couple of times before, sure signs of getting tired and not lifting my feet properly, but when I went, I knew it was coming and got my hands down to break my fall. No harm done, but the second I hit the ground both calves and my stomach muscles went into cramp! Not a good position to be in when your face down and can’t see a way to get back up without causing cramp induced agony! After a few seconds of rolling around on the dry, dusty trail, I eventually got myself back onto my feet and after a bit of a walk, a quick rinse off in the river and a good dunk of my hat to help cool me down, I managed to get going again. A few minutes later, and what’s this I spy up ahead? looks like another runner, moving even more slowly than I am? Expecting it to be someone out for an afternoon stroll, I’m mightily surprised to find the current 3rd place man (last seen disappearing into the distance at the start in second place) walking, and after checking that he’s OK I trot past, still moving surprisingly better than he is. (I’m suspicious this happened before Droxford but I really can’t place it, and I’ve got a feeling it was after my fall and the river?). A couple of miles later and working through a small town (Hambeldon?) I notice that my GPS has crashed and is no longer showing the route, that’s not good and is normally a sign that I’m off track. Bugger! Pulling up Google maps while I wait for the GPS to reload, I realise I’ve missed a turning. Not a major problem and I’m only a couple of hundred meters off track, but it’s another sign of tiredness. No sooner back on track than I’m faced with a route choice that I struggle to work out. It’s either up an impossibly steep slope or along the valley side, neither of which look right. Eventually I decide it’s got to be straight up, but I’m not feeling good, and the climb seems to finish me off. I reach the top and slump on a style at the field junction, feeling dizzy, retching and in a bad way. I’ve been here before though and I recognise the classic signs of Bonking and I’m in deep! There’s only one solution if I’m going to make it to the end, and that’s getting some calories in, the last thing I want to do is eat though, I’m feeling awful! Struggling back to my feet, I remember I’ve got a couple of energy gels in my bag for exactly this situation and pulling my pack off I grab one, squeezing the sugary syrup into my mouth and forcing it down. Almost instantly I start to feel better and manage to force a small chocolate bar down too, followed by a few mouthfuls of water. Forcing myself to go on, a few minutes later I go to check the route and realise I’ve dropped the GPS. Fu**! It’s been tied on to the clip of my vest all day, so I can only have lost it when I took my vest off to get that gel out. Times stood still since then though, how far back was that? For a minute I consider leaving it and using my phone for the rest of the way. I know that’s a stupid move though and reluctantly start retracing my steps until I come to the point where I think I took my pack of, but I don’t see it. Double F**k! I’m still thinking clearly enough to know it’s got to be here somewhere though, and as I start to retrace my steps again; I spot it laying in the grass. Relief flows over me, and I resume walking in the right direction again. As I walk, I try to force some salty biscuits into me, but it’s like trying to eat sawdust and I give up, finally pulling a chocolate spread sandwich from my bag and nibbling on that, which seems to go down a bit better. I pick up a road and following the signs push on for a bit, before realising that I’ve missed a turn again! Not to worry though, the map shows that if I go left at the next junction it will bring me out in the same place. However, when I get there it just confuses me having come from the wrong direction, and I struggle to work out which way to go. A bemused looking farmer watches me intently as I go one way then the other, then stop to look at the map a few times, then eventually decide which way to go.
The food I’ve managed to get on board has worked wonders and that coupled with a bit of shade providing some light relief from the direct sun sees me feeling considerably better. Disaster averted, but that’s the second time in two races that I’ve Bonked and Bonked hard, you’d think I’d have learned by now to keep eating no matter what!
A couple of miles of mixed walk / jog sees me at the final checkpoint at Denmead with 58 miles showing on my GPS (slightly over distance due to my small diversions). More surprisingly the marshal tells me I’m still in third place, which considering the endeavours and errors of the last few miles is somewhat miraculous and undoubtedly undeserved! I stop for just long enough to try and force some more food down whilst the lovely marshal refills my water and generally fusses over me, before pushing slowly on. Taking a handful of Haribo and a packet of dry roasted nuts with me, both of which seem to hit the mark as I make my way out of town, heading for the finish. A bit of fast walking allows my body to start absorbing some of the food I’ve managed to eat and the extra fluids that I’ve just taken on, and after a while I feel able to resume a slow jog. Jog the downhill and flat bit’s, but as soon as the gradient steepens it’s a fast walk, which seems to do the trick and the miles continue to slowly come down. I’m conscious that if I’m going to maintain 3rd place, I need to keep the pace as fast as I can and I keep pushing on, checking behind on the straight sections to see if I can see my chaser! As I jog onto the final ascent taking me back up to Portsdown Hill and the finish he’s still not in sight, but I can’t relax just yet, it’s not over until the finish line is under my feet. Push to the top of the hill on the road, then turn right back onto the track and right again to follow the main road and there it is, the finish, and confirmation that despite the trails and tribulations of a long day out, I’ve managed to cling on to 3rd place!
12:22:54 after setting off, and 100Km (63 miles exactly according to my GPS) I’m finished, and what a day that was. A time I’m more than happy with, a 3rd place which was totally unexpected, a beautiful route across some outstanding countryside. A good mix of hills, flat, woodland, open farmland, and all wrapped up with a great view of the sea and the isle of Wight off in the distance at the end. What’s not to like about that?
Ok it was a bit on the warm side, but we can’t have everything and at least it wasn’t raining. Although thinking about it, maybe that would have been better! Your not going to believe this, but I'm not well. Or to be more precise, "The Emma's" given me the lurgey! Not only am I not feeling very good, but that's also put pay to this weekends adventures, and more importantly, left me actually feeling my age. The most annoying thing (apart from it all being "the Emma's" fault, is I'm never not well. In fact I can't remember the last time when I didn't feel well. I'll grant you I have the odd day when I don't feel 100%, but feeling like I do today, never. I've not had a day off work, sick, since 2016, and then it was works fault for pulling my wisdom teeth out, and even then I was only off for one day, and before that, well I've no idea, maybe 2001? Anyhow, the pesky one was away at the Goodwood Festival of speed last weekend whilst I was trying to run a stupid distance and when she came back she had a stinking cold. Not wanting to catch it I've been avoiding here all week, not that that's a bad thing, but it was to no avail and Friday afternoon the lurgey got me. I had planned on doing a 300km Audax on Saturday, with an early start from home, and I even managed to get as far as getting up for a brew at Audax O'Clock (03:30) hoping that I'd be OK, but slunk back to bed half an hour later feeling sorry for myself and shelved all those plans. Never one to sit around feeling sorry for myself though, I've still been pottering around, starting with a bit of Baking Saturday morning in an attempt to use up some allotment raspberries. That's the only problem with the allotment, it's all or nothing and the summer fruit is going full guns at the minute. I've had more strawberries than I can count in my morning cereals for the last month or so, and still made a few jars of jam which will go a treat in my porridge through the winter months, transporting me effortlessly back to those heady summer months. What to do with half a punnet of raspberries though? Well, chuck in a couple of scabby bananas and what have we got? Yep, Banana, Raspberry bread! While I'm on the subject of fruit and cooking, I've knocked up a couple of batches of jam in the last couple of weeks too. Firstly 4 jars of Strawberry, then 2 jars of Strawberry and Raspberry which I'm not too sure about, I think the Raspberries overpower the Strawberries but like most things if you don't try you don't know, and lastly 5 jars of Raspberry and Loganberry. While I'm dragging up random pictures, how about these. Everything on the allotments finally got going and the Sweet Peas are in full bloom. I must confess that I've got a real soft spot for Sweet Peas and whilst they don't last long, the scent and colours are amazing. Just that small bunch is almost overpowering, with just the most amazing perfume and another real smell of summer as far as I'm concerned. In fact, it wouldn't be summer without Sweet Peas, Petunias and Nicotiana's adding their sweet perfume and colours to a summer evening! A few hours on the allotment over the weekend has got everything ship shape there too. I will say that everything is very dry, and despite it seemingly managing to rain most Saturdays, I don't think that we've actually had that much rain this year? Rain or not though, the greenhouse is looking good with the first trusses of Tomatoes setting and we've already had a couple of Cucumbers, with plenty more to follow. The Parsnips and Beetroot which I sowed in late April are starting to get established after a slow start, and I've just sowed another row of Beetroot and Carrot's which will hopefully keep us going into the autumn and beyond. The French and Runner beans are up to the top of the canes and in full flower and it won't be long before we're tucking into the Courgettes. We've been making the most of the Peas and Broad Beans too, in fact Pea and Bean Risotto is another favourite of mine. You just can't beat the taste of a freshly picked and podded Pea, although I've no idea how they get the peas out of the pods commercially as it a right fiddly task. Yes, things are certainly looking good on the allotment front. In other news, being stuck at home with the sun shining I got the paintbrushes out and slapped a coat of wood preservative on the log store that I made at the start of last year (18 months, that's not bad going) and even if I do say so myself it looks pretty good. Unfortunately that made the sheds look shabby, so whilst I had the stuff out, they got a quick going over too. Have I ever mentioned that I hate painting? Well in case I haven't, I do, and it's even worse when your not feeling brilliant! I'm sure you'll agree that it was worth a couple of hours of suffering though. Fingers crossed, by next weekend I'll be fully recovered and back to top form (I need to be as I've got a big weekend planned) and I'll have something better to talk about. But until then, the sun's still shining so I might as well make use of being at home and go and wash the van. At least then when I do get back out, I'll look presentable!
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Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
March 2024
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