Many years ago, at least 8 years PB (Pre Boy), back when I was young, could still handle partying every night and had not a care in the world, I did a little bit of walking with my Step father. We were never particularly successful, failing to complete both the South Downs Way, something I've since remedied and the Downs Link, but we had some fun, it was all a good learning experience and we got to spend some quality time together. I seem to recall that our idea back in the Autumn of 1990 had been to attempt the Downs Link in one day and had vague memories that we may not have started from the beginning. What I do know is we got caught out by a lack of fitness, followed closely behind by a lack of daylight and had to abandon our attempt before the end. I also seem to recall, that, not only were we pretty well broken from our meager efforts, but Pip the dog who had accompanied us on our little adventure was pretty well knackered too and retreated to her bed for the next couple of days. So whats all this reminiscing got to do with now then? Well back last winter whilst looking for stupid things to do I stumbled across a link for the Downslink ultra marathon, a cheeky wee run down the length of the path we had failed to conquer all those years ago. Surely, having been beaten by our attempt at walking it as a fit and healthy 19 year old, running it as an aging 47 year old should be a walk in the park. Right? Which is how I found myself boarding a bus from Shoreham-By-Sea at 07:15 Sunday morning heading for the start line at St Marthas Hill. The weather forecast during the week had been for torrential rain and strong winds all day. But, having spent the night listening to the rain beat down and woken to some pretty wet roads it looked like the bad weather may have blown through in the night. And, whilst the clouds to the East were heavy and grey, the view to the West looked a lot better. Safely ensconced on the bus the true scale of the days en-devours became apparent, an hour sitting on a bus seems like a long time and as we slowly moved North towards Guildford quite how far 38 miles really is started to sink in! Not to be downhearted though and after a quick round of "does anyone know the way" from the bus driver we finally arrived at the start just as the sun was making a full and very much welcome appearance. A few minutes milling around at the start, a bit of chatting, pre-race briefing and a blessing from the vicar of St Marthas church, which, incidentally I recognized the second we arrived (the church, not the vicar) and which I guess shows that my recollections of cutting short the start in 1990 were incorrect, and at the stroke of 09:00 we were off. The first few miles are on sandy tracks and quite narrow, however we soon got onto the disused railway line that makes up the majority of the trail and started to spread out, settling into a steady rhythm with a small group of similar paced runners, steadily racking up the miles, chatting amicably with those close by, bonded temporarily by the task in hand. We quickly reached and passed through the old station at Bramley, complete with railway crossing gates, and ran on-wards towards the first aid station at the 9 mile mark at Cranleigh, catching the odd glimpse of the Autumn sun glinting through the trees and dodging the puddles left behind by the nights rain. Having obviously not learned my lessons from the previous week, or any race I've ever run, I'd settled into what felt like a nice, easily maintainable pace. However, whilst the running felt easy and I was running well within myself, I was aware that the pace was way faster than anything I had considered possible, or planned for, in the weeks proceeding. Maybe my lack of summer miles wasn't the problem I thought it too be? Or maybe the fast pace would come back and bite me later? There was only one way to find out though and I pushed steadily on through the half marathon mark to the second aid station at Slinfold, where I stopped for water and a few nibbles. Things were going well, I was feeling good and was well ahead of where I had predicted I'd be time wise and the sun was shining, and most importantly I was having fun! Being an old railway track there are no hills, just a few steady gradients, slowly rising and falling as the path passes through the Sussex countryside. Whilst this makes for easy running, the view is limited due to the trees either side, so there's not much to distract your mind from the task in hand and it requires a constant effort. A hillier run, whilst making it harder to hold a steady pace tends to give the legs a bit of a break, different muscles being used going up and down hill and helping to stretch out tired muscles. The 26 mile mark (marathon distance and 2/3 of the way) came and went in under 4 hours, a respectable time for many runners, but in this instance probably too fast and my legs were starting to tire, with occasional twinges of cramp running through my calves, not a good sign with another 13 miles still to go! I'm quite happy to admit that from the 26 mile mark my run started to go downhill quite quickly. By the time the 27 mile aid station at Henfield came along (actually closer to 29 by my watch) I was suffering. I still felt OK physically and mentally, but my legs were starting to fail with spasms of cramp periodically stopping me in my tracks. Occasional stops to stretch over the final few miles saw me safely to Henfield, although my pace had dropped off considerably and I took the opportunity to stop, have a really good stretch, get plenty of water on board and take on some salty nibbles in the hope that would help on the cramp front. Revitalized, the next couple of miles saw me back up and running, with a few miles of more varied terrain between Henfield and Bramber providing a welcome break for my tired legs, I would guess I got to around the 30 -31 mile mark before the cramps came back with a vengeance. I was still moving forward though and with a combination of Jogging alternating with speed walking made it to the Bramber aid station at 32 miles where I repeated the stretch and salty food / fluids routine. By this point only 6 miles remained, less than 10Km, a distance that on any other day would be a pleasant, easy run in the afternoon sun, today though things were going to be a bit different and whilst I managed another mile or so of jogging, cramp soon bought me back down to earth with a bump. Although struggling I was still moving steadily and found that by setting a target of speed walking 100 steps followed by a slow jog for as long as I could manage (which wasn't far) and repeat, I was still making steady progress. Whilst a few people overtook me, I could tell from the time they took to come past and then pull away that whilst they were still running, they weren't actually moving much faster than I was with my walk / run method, which provided a welcome morale booster. But by the time I got to the Toll Bridge at Shoreham the game was up, and as soon as I tried to run my calves instantly cramped up. I was still capable of walking at a reasonable pace though, and whilst not the finish I would have hoped for, with only a mile to go, I knew that no matter what happened I was going to finish. I finally hobbled over the finish line in 6:26:01, the 49th finisher from the 168 that started, relieved and elated in equal measure, in a time that I hadn't considered possible in the weeks proceeding and one that I'm more than happy with. So there it was, 38 miles completed and what was possibly the hardest (physically) event I've completed to date. I think my early fast pace, yet again, played a significant role in my downfall over the final miles and whilst in the early stages the pace felt fine, requiring little effort to sustain, it was painfully clear that it was too fast to maintain for the full distance. Whilst I struggled at times with cramp, I never felt that I wouldn't or couldn't finish, once I'd got to the 26 mile point with plenty of time in hand it was clear that even at a slow walk I could finish ahead of the cut off times, which I think helped enormously, making this a purely physical challenge and removing much of the mental battle. I believe that the majority of the endurance events I undertake are basically a battle of mind over matter and, if approached with the right attitude, a bit of planning and thought, anything is possible. As soon as you allow doubt to seep in then the games up and you may as well give up, total focus on the cause in hand and breaking the monster down into smaller bite size chunks is the key in my opinion. I'll just run to the next aid station, I'll just run to that tree, I'll just walk for 100 paces, all make it easier to trick the brain into continuing and when push comes to shove and your brains screaming that enough's enough then you've just got to get your head down, find something to distract yourself and keep going, but I guess that counts for most things in life! Or as Jens Voigt the cyclist famously said about pushing on when it's all starting to hurt, you've just got to say "Shut up legs's and keep going". All in all then a brilliant day out and one that wouldn't have been possible without the selfless volunteers that give up their time to make these events happen. Any selfish idiot, and I count myself in this group, can put in the training to run or ride a long distance, but it takes a real hero to give up their weekend to stand in the rain and fill up water bottles, or take the timing tags off tired runners sweaty, dirty ankles so they don't have to bend over at the end of a race.
It's the volunteers that turn up, rain or shine, with a smile and kind word of encouragement, that take the time to make you a brew at the end of a hard run, that tidy up once all the runners have gone home, that make these low key events the special things they are. Yeah I ran 38 miles, but another 100 people gave up their Sunday to allow me to do that and for that I say, Thank you! Oh, and it would appear that it is possible to do the the Downs Link in a day, you just need to put in a bit of effort and not mind hobbling around like an old man for a few days afterwards!
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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
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