Sometimes I should probably just keep my mouth shut.
Not 3 weeks ago, after the Round Reading ultra, I commented that I was never likely to stand on the podium of a race. Well, blow me down, if within a fortnight of opening my mouth, I’ve only gone and won one run and come second in another. What the hell’s going on? I’m supposed to be slowing down and getting old gracefully, not posting some of my best times! I’ll admit that the first win doesn’t really count as it was only the monthly 5km lunchtime run out at work. But when you consider that I actually work with some pretty fit guys (it tends to go with the job), that the average age of the people I work with is 33 whilst I’m 49, and that I was running against 20 odd people that are younger by a considerable margin than me, I’ll take that one. I’ll grant you with a time of 19:58 it wasn’t exactly blistering pace, but as far as I’m concerned anything under 20 minutes is pretty good, even more so when you take into account that I’d not only cycled the 11 miles into work that morning, but had run the Round Reading ultra 3 days before! As we will see in a minute, my next cheeky little result was a bit more difficult though. In my never ending hunt for things to do, I’d spotted the Salisbury Plain 50m a while back. It was billed as a cheeky little 50 mile jaunt around the Salisbury plain training area, starting and finishing just outside of Tidworth and taking in some of the high (and low) spots of the vast Army training area which surrounds it. That seemed right up my alley and in a moment of stupidity I’d signed straight up.
I'm sure it goes without saying that those few months since I'd put my money where my mouth is (or more accurately my name on the start list) had fairly flown by, and by the time I found myself stood on the start line, with a handful of other like minded lunatics at 06:45 in the drizzle on Sunday morning, I was starting to have second thoughts about my sanity!
On the plus side though, with the van now back on the road I'd had a great night’s sleep in the car park right on the start line, I'd sat in the sun with a cold beer for an hour reading my book Saturday afternoon and had watched the sun go down over the fields of drying Oats the night before, so maybe everything wasn’t quite so bad in the world after all! On an even bigger positive note, the start line briefing held some terrible and disappointing news. Due to ongoing Army training the organisers had been forced into a slight re-routing of the course the day before and it might now be a bit short of 50 miles. How far short of 50 miles, they had no idea as there hadn’t been time to re-measure it, and quite how that was disappointing news, I’ve no idea either. Shorter, that’s great by my books and if you really feel the need to make up the extra your welcome to do a few laps round the car park. Me, I’ll be stopping as soon as I cross the line! Bad/good news safely delivered, it was just a case of watching as the clock slowly ticked down to 07:00 and we could set off. In common with many events at the moment there was no set start time, with the 50 mile runners departing, as and when they were ready, between 07:00 and half past. I’d guess that the majority of the 35 starters were there champing at the bit for 07:00 though. They’re a keen bunch these ultra runners I can tell you. In the typical understated fashion of many of these events, we stood chatting, getting damper by the minute until someone said “It’s 7 O’Clock off you go” and with a bit of shoulder shrugging and a few “I suppose we’d best get on with it then” we were off. That’s what I love about a lot of these smaller event’s, it’s just like-minded people doing the things they enjoy, but so understated. 50 miles, “Oh, alright then, if I have to”. No, look at me aren’t I great. Just a few idiots out for a bit of a fun!
And just like that we were off, across the start line far too fast as usual, and straight onto the long slow drag of a climb which seemed to go on for the next 20 miles. I kid you not, I’m pretty certain that it was all uphill until we got to the second checkpoint at Gore Cross. I’ll grant you it certainly wasn’t steep or strenuous climbing, in fact a bit steeper in places would have been better. Steeper would have made it a bit more realistic to walk the up hill's, instead of keeping plodding on and given the old legs a bit of a break!
Uphill or not, it was some lovely running along well surfaced gravel tracks, through mile after mile of nothing, except the odd military viewpoint or storage building. Fields of wild grass, corn and ripening wheat gently rippling like a calm sea in the breeze to the sides, and once the drizzle finally stopped after the first hour or so and the sun came out, some lovely expansive views across Wiltshire and the surrounding counties. Beautiful! Once the pace had settled down and we’d all spread out a bit, I’d fallen in step with the guy in 3rd position on the road and after a few brief introductions we had settled into a pretty steady pace which seemed to suit us both. Despite the fact that we were both regularly mentioning the fact that we seemed to be going a bit fast, neither of us seemed inclined to do much about it, and as we plodded along chatting about life in general the miles were slowly ticking down. In fact as we reached the second checkpoint and the end of that interminable uphill, we had caught up with the man in 3rd place who mentioned that after a fast start he was starting to have a few foot problems. I'd had a few twinges of cramp in the couple of miles before checkpoint 2 myself, so took my time to ensure my camelback was refilled, get a couple of cups of water and some salty snacks on board and grabbed a sandwich and some salty pretzels from my backpack to see me through the next few miles and hopefully keep the cramp at bay. As such my previous companion left a few minutes ahead of me, not to worry though, I'd still got 30 miles to catch back up in. In fact before we got to the Marathon point at 26 miles I'd caught and passed not only my previous companion, but the man in second place on the road too, and was rapidly gaining on the first place runner. Pushing on, the sun finally came out and with it the temperature rocketed, not what you need when there's no shade and the miles are starting to rack up. There's not much you can do about that though, except keep on getting the fluids on board, drop the pace if it starts to really hurt and push on. And push on I did, pushing on to the point where I'd caught and overtaken the first place man by the time 26 miles came along in a respectable smidgen under 4 hours. Coming into the 30 mile checkpoint as the first runner on the road was a novel experience, but I wasn't alone for long, as by the time I'd grabbed some water and was just thinking about leaving, my previous companion rolled in, having also gained 2 places, leaving us in first and second. I wasn't going to hang around now I was on a roll though, and pushed on ahead of him as soon as I was ready. With the sun still beating down, the terrain having flattened out and the route following wide gravel roads, I found this next leg a real struggle. I've often said that long distance running (and cycling) is as much a mental battle as a physical one and that certainly played true today. With nothing to occupy my mind and nothing much to look at, it became a monotonous slog for a few miles. One foot in front of the other, repeated 65,000 times, starts to get a bit dull after a while, but eventually the next check point came and went and with no sign of those behind me on the road I just needed to keep on pushing on.
Towards the 40 mile mark I got a bit of a lift from the monotony as I started to not only come into territory that I vaguely recognised from working in the area in a previous job, but started to pick up the odd back marker from the Marathon distance run being held on the same day. Not many, but the odd person struggling along in front gave me someone to focus on catching, passing and acknowledging as I made my way slowly past.
It was at the final checkpoint at 41 miles that I got the best news though. Apparently it was only another 6 or 7 miles to the finish, which meant that the forecast of the route coming up short was likely to be correct and instead of 50 miles we were only looking at 47 or maybe 48. Result, fingers crossed I could have this one in the bag, 7 miles is less than the run to work, get in! My new found enthusiasm was soon knocked out of me by the steepest climb of the day straight after that final checkpoint! That will teach me to start counting my chickens before they hatch. Hauling myself slowly skywards, didn't seem much fun, but due to the steepness it didn't take long to gain all the height required to get to the finish and resume the slow run on flatter surfaces. Onwards, counting down the miles, passing the odd back marker from the shorter race and with the end now in sight I was starting to enjoy myself again after those few dark miles. 45 miles came and went and as 46 slowly hove into sight so did the road crossing that signified the beginning of the end and a return back towards the start. Do I pickup the pace, relying in the fact that it can't be far to the end, or maintain this slow plod, just in case there is still another 5 miles to go? In the end the answer was handed to me on a plate whilst I pondered what to do as rounding the corner at 46.5 miles the finish line hove into view, and with it no other option but to put on a last minute spurt for the line.
7 hours, 39 minutes and 57 seconds after setting off I was back where I started from, and whilst I'll grant you it was only 46.5 miles instead of the planned 50 that's a time I'm more than happy with for the distance.
The big question on everyone's lips though, was how did I get on position wise? Well, I crossed the line first from all the runners that set off at the same time as me, but that doesn't count for anything and with the staggered start it would be a while before all the runners were finished and final times and positions could be worked out. The final result then? Second from the 35 that started, with the fastest man coming in six and a bit minutes faster than me. There's no doubt that I could probably have gone a bit faster in the first few miles and probably have won outright. But you know what, those 15 miles I spent in company chatting were probably the best miles of the whole day, and whilst I would have been faster on my own, I wouldn't change a single thing. I said 3 weeks ago, It's not about the podium place or even a good finish time. For me it's all about having a good day out, with a few like minded people and enjoying myself, anything else is just an added bonus!
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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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