The Long RunGrand Union Canal Race 23/05/09 ~ 25/05/09
The Grand Union Canal Race (GUCR) is Britain’s longest continuous foot race. The rules are pretty simple; leave Gas Street Basin, Birmingham at 6 am on a Saturday morning and make it to Little Venice, London on foot by 3 am the following Monday morning without stopping for more than 40 minutes at any point. There are cut-off times for the later checkpoints where you will be told if you are going too slowly and be given the option of speeding up or withdrawing. Oh yes, the distance – it’s 145 miles.
One hundred and forty-five miles; non-stop.
The route is along the Grand Union Canal, providing footpaths of varying degrees of texture through open fields and city centres. Being a canal, it’s pretty flat but that can become more of problem later on as your leg muscles need a change from the same repetitive action. Support crews are encouraged, with various meeting points between road and canal identified, but it is also possible to go “unsupported”, where you have access to your bags at the 9 official checkpoints and get hot food and snacks supplied too. I first did the race (successfully) in 2006 with a support crew of various family members and have since had two DNFs going unsupported. This was my third attempt unsupported. www.gucr.co.uk gives all the details for anyone interested plus a variety of race reports, a video by Matt Dowle which gives a really good overview (I finished 2 minutes ahead of Matt in 2006 and can be seen staggering about in the background occasionally) and plenty of photos. I’ve only put in one from the start here as despite best intentions, photography was not high on my list at the checkpoints.
The following is a combination of a normal race report and various thoughts based on 4 attempts at this race sparked by the songs I had on my MP3 player at some point over the weekend. No comments on the song choices - they work for me. In the hope that I would finish and thus feel like writing up a report, I took along a small voice recorder to note progress and other observations. I’ve deleted most of the complaining and re-arranged things to make a bit more sense!
Gas Street Basin, central Birmingham, Saturday 23 May
Train down yesterday afternoon and night at a hotel opposite the canal basin. This area of Birmingham is pretty lively (read full of loud pubs and drunk people) so made sure I was at the back of the hotel where it is quieter. Up at 4.30 am for the traditional pre-race pot noodle and a banana roll. Didn’t get a great sleep as the nerves started to kick in and I can never seem to trust an alarm clock so always wake up before it rings. Continue to nibble at stuff and drink as I take a wander outside to check conditions.
Forecast is for sun and a light breeze all day with more sun or heavy showers depending who you believe for Sunday. I opt for sealskinz socks, old (i.e. not as tight as they started) long running trousers, long-sleeved running top with Porty vest and keep a waterproof jacket in my camelback in case the forecast’s wrong. Race number must be visible on the front at all times so I’ve attached it to a simple loop of elastic that allows easy gear changes later on. Padding strips on the feet and liberal applications of Vaseline later, it’s time to pack up and head for registration at 5.30 am.
Quick blether with Dick Kearn who organizes this and several other ultras and then the bag’s checked in and number 940 is ready to go. Apparently we have a diversion on the penultimate leg which is going to add 3 miles to the course – not worth worrying about yet and what’s another 3 miles anyway? Recognize quite a few faces from other years; the percentage of runners who have made at least one previous attempt is well up on the past. Chat with some acquaintances from previous runs and a few first timers as we wait for the start. Unlike most races, everyone tries to get to the back of the field before Dick gives some words of encouragement, a blast of the hooter and at 6 a.m. 86 runners start the race.
Born to Run (Bruce Springsteen)
I’ve been looking forward to this race since about a day after retiring during the last one. The thing about it is that it must be about the limit for a continuous race – the Marathon of Britain, Marathon de Sables and other long ultras are split over several days whilst this one has to be non-stop (40 minutes is not a lot of time to change kit, eat and deal with any developing feet problems). The time and distance are possible by an average club runner – with determination, lack of injury and luck more than excessive training – and that’s the point, you believe you can do it but know it’s going to require everything you’ve got mentally and physically. The sense of achievement in completing it is immense and if you don’t manage it, you will be back! It’s the challenge, the camaraderie and the desire to know you’ve done it – irresistible!
Catherine De Barnes (10.7 miles)
Trot in at 7.47 a.m., a bit faster than intended but not too worrying. Paths have all been in good condition with hardly any puddles but it is already starting to get a bit warm. The Porty vest went into my backpack a while ago and at the check point I swap over to short-sleeve top, dump the waterproof and keep the vest and long-sleeve in my pack as possible alternatives for later. Already eaten some crisps and a few other bits and pieces and have some coke and water at the checkpoint as a change from the dilute energy stuff that’s in my camelback.
So far I’ve had company most of the way with varying groups of runners trading places and groups as we all try and stick to our own plans rather than following the pace of those around us.
Run, Run, Run (The Who)
One of the big discussion points amongst the runners before the race is what run/walk/rest scheme to use? 25 minutes running, 5 minutes walking seems pretty popular, bearing in mind that “running” here means quite a bit below normal training or marathon pace. In the past years I’ve tried running at approximately 6 mile an hour pace to start with, dropping after 30 miles or so (and plummeting after another 30 miles!), and stopped for short rests and food only at checkpoints, or when meeting my support crew in 2006. After a trial on the Glasgow – Edinburgh double marathon in March this year, I opted for setting the Garmin at 5.5 mile an hour pace to start with and walking to eat every time I got half a mile ahead of schedule.
Hatton Locks (22.5 miles)
Just before the checkpoint there is the first of the canal tunnels which lead to the footpath leaving the canal side and going up and over the hills. The Shrewly tunnel is quite short and the steps up are a chance to stretch the calves a bit. It was also good to be in the shade – I’m starting to get concerned about the heat. Arrived at 9.50 a.m. which is still a bit fast. Paths have been much better than previous years but I know I had better slow down soon or be in trouble later on. Eating OK but tastes are starting to change; I don’t want anything sweet anymore. Got some rice down at the checkpoint but suspect that will the last for a while.
Waterfront (Simple Minds)
A lot of the canal is very scenic. Hatton Locks is a great example of what everyone thinks of when picturing canals – a gentle flight of locks, an arching stone bridge and a pub surrounded by outside tables and hanging baskets of flowers. Even in the towns and cities, this canal is remarkably unsullied and you can be in the middle of a town without really knowing it (except Milton Keynes – see later). Out in the countryside, hedges and cuttings provide an almost constant screen from wider views but also provide cover from the worst of the wind and rain when the weather takes a turn for the worse. It’s also perhaps a bit surprising how twisty the canal is – it’s rare to be able to see too far in front which is a psychological help when things get tough.
There are no mile markers for this race or any other waymarkers (unlike the Union Canal from Edinburgh which has them every ½ mile and makes for good training). Distance is judged by the bridge numbers and cross referring to the British Waterways maps if you don’t have a Garmin. Bridge numbering seems pretty eccentric but apparently the numbers are based on when various bits of the canal system were built and linked. At least each number is unique on the stretch used for the GUCR! The path is straightforward most of the time, with only the occasional branch canal or tunnel providing a navigation challenge. You do have to cross from side to side via bridges and once or twice by lock gates - I keep small laminated cards to hand telling me which side of the canal I’m supposed to be on and which bridge numbers to cross as well as giving the checkpoint and crossing mileages. Quite a few runners have gone off up the branch canals in the past but no one seems to have got lost in the past couple of years so maybe the canal signs are getting better.
Birdingbury Bridge (35.9 miles)
It’s an indication of how things are going that I’ve not noted the time of arrival. Heat is definitely getting the better of me and several other competitors. Take 30 minutes at this checkpoint to try and get my stomach back for the beans and pasta on offer as well as more coke and water. Phil Gadd, one of the marshals who I spent a bit of time with last year helping treat the finishers’ feet (lovely job!), remarks that I’m looking too pale, even for a Scotsman. Good to hear someone’s got a sense of humour because I definitely don’t. The next section is 20 miles over some pretty bad stretches of footpath and there’s a climb up over the Braunston tunnel. I decide that given my present state and the sun, I’ll walk this stretch and then hope to have energy for upping the pace during the evening and night sections.
Always the Sun (Stranglers) / Here Comes the Rain Again (Eurythmics)
It does not really matter what the weather is doing at the start of the race, chances are you will get a bit of everything at some point during the race. Obviously, the more rain there’s been, the wetter the path and the more your feet are going to get wet (Sealskinz or the equivalent just delay it) but a sun-baked path can also be pretty unpleasant on the feet and calves. Although the pace is slower than a marathon, if it’s hot hydration can become an issue – with the infrequent checkpoints you have to carry a fair amount with you (in 2006 there were some medical students assessing water consumption and hydration state; I was deemed reasonably hydrated at the end having drunk over 18 litres during the race). In the rain, the reduced pace of the race means that I can get away with a properly waterproof top rather than the showerproof efforts that become sodden in a few minutes of a decent downpour but at least are a bit breathable and given the choice I’d go for rain over sun any time.
Gear changes are also important as the first day comes to an end. The temperature drops quite noticeably at night and you have to be prepared for the change occurring between checkpoints or earlier than anticipated. I learned that lesson last year after being retired with mild hypothermia brought on by wind chill as it got dark.
The Heart of England (54 miles)
Arrive at 6.10 p.m. Apart from stretching out just a little bit on the downhill part of the Braunston tunnel section, I’ve stuck to my revised plan and just walked the last section. Came into the checkpoint with Tim Walls, a finisher last year who I alternated with quite a bit on the first 2 sections as he was on a run 25 walk 5 minute routine. Tim’s done and despite some less than gentle encouragement (actually “threats” might be more precise) from Henk van der Beek, one of the marshals at the checkpoint, he makes the phone call to Jan (Race HQ) to confirm his race is over due to a combination of heat and shin splints (few people stop this race for only one reason!).
I’m feeling a bit brighter and take on more liquid and jaffa cakes. Just as I’m about to leave I spot some orange jelly on offer which is somehow exactly what I want despite not having eaten any since I was about 5. Two cartons later everything is wonderful and I’m ready for what has been the crucial section for me in previous years. I opt to take some fizzy energy/caffeine drink with me even though the intention had been to keep it for later. This proves to be a good move as it really does seem to give an energy and alertness boost taken at intervals over the section.
Runnin’ Down a Dream (Tom Petty)
This track’s far too fast for this kind of thing! I tend to accumulate stuff on the MP3 without really considering how I’m going to be feeling by the time I listen to it. Sometimes a change in tempo and volume can get you going again, at other times something a bit quieter suits your mood. Earlier on I find I start speeding up when I really shouldn’t if the music is too fast but by the end it really makes no difference at all. Some people listen to audio books but I reckon that would send me to sleep. Each to their own.
Navigation Bridge (70.5 miles)
Scrounged some coke and water from other runners’ support crews during the section – all the crews are willing to help any runner and give a lot of encouragement as you pass. I therefore should not complain that it was diet coke – what’s the point of that on an endurance race? I’m really grateful for these supplies as I had a bit of sickness on this stretch and use up quite a bit of my stocks without getting too much benefit.
The Blisworth tunnel at 63 odd miles is the longest point away from the water. 1½ miles up and over some gentle hills but running on road was significantly harder on the feet. As I’ve done the race before, I know the route well but Dick’s team put up fluorescent signs to keep us right as it is easy to have a decision crisis at this point. You are so used to having the canal path as a guide that thinking for yourself or looking at the map has become quite taxing. The light was just ending as I came of the road section so the head torch is on but no need for a hat as it is still reasonably warm. I put on another layer during the section and put my waterproof back in the pack at the last check point as I do not want to get caught by dropping temperatures again.
It has been quite a sociable section; I’ve spent quite a bit of time with Sarah Hutton, Stefan Olsson and Jan Sederkvist plus seen other runners around most of the time. The company makes quite a difference, not so much in keeping the pace up but in keeping the spirits up with chat ranging over quite a wide range of subjects. I’m sorry to see that Jan retires at the checkpoint and Sarah opts to hold back to accompany another runner who has been struggling through to the next section. Not sure what happens to Stefan.
Arrived at the checkpoint at 11 p.m. feeling pretty reasonable. Half a baked potato and some fruit salad later I’m beginning to think this year might be the one where I can keep it together without the family’s support but instantly try and squash that thought and just concentrate on the next checkpoint. Meet Phil again who agrees I’m looking a lot better (it is dark though) and notes that he too had a bit of difficulty being in the sun at the checkpoint back at Birdingbury Bridge. The drop out rate is climbing and it is expected that several more runners will not make the closing time for this checkpoint at 1 a.m.
Put on the overnight gear of long sleeved top, waterproof and cap. Gloves in pockets in case I need them later. Give up on the camelback as I’ve well and truly gone off the taste of diluted energy drink and will need less fluid anyway. Keep the pack to hold additional layers and a warmer hat plus a bottle of Scottish fizzy energy with a bottle of water in by belt pack. Right leg has stiffened up quite a bit whilst I was sitting down to eat but it seems a muscular pain rather than anything else so I reckon it should ease as I get going again. Pass Dick as I leave and let him know he’ll have to navigate himself round Milton Keynes this year – this provokes mutterings about certain places but clear happiness that another runner is carrying on. Dick really wants every entrant to finish, even when their slow pace means he is up ‘til 3 a.m. on Monday morning.
It’s Saturday Night (Proclaimers)
The canal goes through Milton Keynes and Leighton Buzzard and, as all the runners pass through during the hours of darkness, an encounter with the local neds (or is it chavs as we’re in England?) out on the towpath the worse for alcohol is likely. A staggering, loud group of hoodies can be pretty intimidating; not what you want to come across at the best of times let alone in a state where anything requiring additional physical effort is out of the question! So far though, the reaction I’ve tended to get is that I must be “f****** mad” and thus best left alone. Occasionally you actually get some real encouragement and if they’ve already met a runner in front of you, you’ll get told that they were in much better/worse shape than you so try harder to catch up!
As for other wildlife on the towpath, I’ve only seen one rat in 4 years but have stepped on a couple of frogs – not good for traction.
Bridge 99 (84.5 miles)
Started off this section pretty well but it didn’t finish that way. Mixture of a gentle trot and walking took me well into Milton Keynes before the sickness returned with a vengeance. Strangely I had not seen another soul until stopping to retch in some bushes at which point half a dozen competitors and buddies turned up to witness the event and ask if I was OK. Having stoically replied that I’d be fine in a few minutes, I felt obliged to get going again. Half an hour or so later I came across an inviting looking bench and lay down for a quick nap with the alarm set for 15 minutes. No sooner had I closed my eyes than someone popped there head over a nearby bridge to see if I was alright. Comforted to know that there were support crews nearby, I took a 10 minute break and felt a bit better. Downside was that my right leg was now quite sore and blisters were beginning to make their presence felt.
Blisters are pretty inevitable over this distance. I find the sealskinz provide good padding and no seams without the waterproof side of them causing too much discomfort but it was clearly getting to the point where my feet needed to breathe a bit more. Along the towpath, I’ve been on the grass as much as possible rather than the worn pathway and the dew had a noticeable cooling effect earlier on.Arrived at the checkpoint around 3.30 a.m on Sunday 24 May. More water and a very welcome cup of hot chocolate and bacon sandwich brightened things up. Decided I could afford to dump the backpack and rely on my pockets for holding everything until the next stop as I felt I could do with a break from the pack. Bit of a stagger on standing up but I’m confident I can make the 100 mile point and then take it from there. I reckon the next section should be cool through to about 8 a.m. by when the checkpoint should not be too far. I don’t expect to do any running any more as my leg has definitely had enough but that’s OK, I’ve set my sights on finishing with no concern for time, place or condition.
Midnight Rambler (Rolling Stones)
I find the night stretch quite enjoyable; plodding along with the head torch limiting your vision to the ground in front is a bit less intimidating than being able to see every detail stretching away in the distance. It’s quiet (most of the time – there should be a law against keeping dogs on canal boats) and there are few distractions. I tend not to have the MP3 on too much overnight, others go the opposite way, and prefer to take the time thinking about all sorts of things instead, including recording lots of this report.
The Grand Junction Arms (99.8 miles)
This section did prove to be the coldest by quite some way – plenty of mist on the canal as the dawn broke and I could see my breath in the head torch for quite a while. All very scenic and served as a distraction whilst the miles went by. Lots of damp grass to try and minimize the impact on my feet but it’s drying out pretty quickly and it looks as though it’s going to be another warm day.
I walked the last few miles in with another competitor (talked for ages but never asked each other’s names; or I’ve forgotten) who had decided quite a bit out that he would retire at this checkpoint. He was weaving a bit and given the narrowness of the path I opted to stay canal-side of him which suggests either I’m feeling a responsible adult again or that I’ve lost my sense of self-preservation.
Arrive around 9 a.m. at one of the best checkpoints. Seats have been set out in the shade and the frying pan’s busy. Decide to go for a full gear change as the pub has kept the toilets open for us. Swap back to short sleeved top, shorts and change to woolen socks having first dealt with a few blisters (had to do my right foot by touch as I couldn’t bend my leg sufficiently). Put the same shoes back on as they’re not wet at all. Pick up the backpack again and make sure I’ve swapped everything out of my jacket pockets. Have a chat with Peter Johnson who I am going to see a lot of at intervals over the rest of the day and agree to wear his cast off cap with natty J-cloth attached at the back for sun protection. This fashion accessory provokes no comment anywhere so I guess people must have taken it for specialist running gear.
I retired at this checkpoint in 2007 when I felt I could not take on the 22 miles to the next checkpoint in one go. That was a case where having a support crew could have made a difference as I would have tried 5 miles but felt the 22 would have ended up with me having to call for assistance somewhere in the middle of nowhere (rescue would have been provided with no concern at all by the marshals but even without seeing what they have to contend with just to keep the race going, I felt I could not deliberately impose another burden on them). This time I’m feeling OK; the gear change and some cold water in the face has freshened me up a bit and I have been eating and drinking enough.
All Day and All of the Night (Kinks – Live version from ’78)
If you’re alert enough to notice the time, there is quite a bit of satisfaction at getting through the 24 hours non-stop point. The 100 mile mark should also have this effect but as it is just past the checkpoint at the Grand Junction Arms, you tend not to think about it as you are restocked and refreshed – ish. Otherwise it is best not to think too much about milestones as you can easily put too much mental effort into getting to them and then find it harder to keep going beyond them.
Running any race for the first time means the route always has interest or is at least different. Coming back to this race several times I find bits longer and bits shorter than I remembered. There’s also the opportunity for a few minutes musing on how you were doing at a particular point in previous years to distract from how you’re feeling now.
Springwell Lock (120.2 miles)
The Tring cutting just after the checkpoint was shaded but after that it has been out in the sun all the way. I’ve had factor 30+ on since the start and refreshed it at intervals but my face is still feeling quite tight – reflection off the canal ensures you get plenty of sun.
Been through a few towns and passed loads of attractive looking pubs full of people out enjoying a beer in the sunshine. (Expletive deleted). Surprisingly few questions from passers-by suggest that there must be quite a few competitors not that far ahead but there is no way I’m upping the pace during the day.
I have it locked in my head that getting through this section will mean I can finish. My pace fluctuates quite a bit as energy comes and goes; another bottle of fizzy energy/caffeine is proving effective or maybe it’s psychological – have thoughts about designing a blinded study and think of sponsorship opportunities before getting back to the job in hand.
Recorded quite a rant here about cyclists not using their bells and going too fast but suspect as many runners also cycle I’d better not put it into print! The other denizens of the towpath, the fishermen, surprise me by actually catching stuff as I go past. In over 600 previous miles on this canal all I’ve ever seen is them staring at stationary floats with empty nets but in the space of 500 yards I see 3 fairly substantial fish landed. Maybe this little section is where they have all been hiding (map reference available for a fee).
Arrive at the checkpoint around 4 p.m. and have of all things, a cup of soup. Careful not to relax too much as even though I’ve got over a major hurdle, there’s still a marathon to go and I’ve now been up for about 36 hours.
Look at the map for the diversion – it does not seem too bad and finishes right next to the checkpoint. Doubt I can get too lost but make sure I have 2 copies of the map as I have been known to drop this sort of information before.
Us and Them (Pink Floyd)
The most impressive thing about the GUCR? Without question it’s Dick Kearn and his team of family, friends and past runners who organize and marshal the event. I think there are about 30 involved at some stage or other, about the same number as finish the race. The logistics of matching bags to runners, opening and closing checkpoints, providing food and some shelter all non-stop for 45 hours (let alone getting the permissions for the race and entries organized in the first place) is quite phenomenal, especially as it all relies on goodwill. Jan Kearn, “wifing” the emergency contact phone throughout the race is an unseen presence who manages to resolve all the little calamities that take place and ensure that no runner lacks aid in emergency or drops out unnoticed.
Arriving at any checkpoint, there is genuine support and friendly encouragement from all the crew. Many know how you are feeling from personal experience and those that have not run themselves still convey complete understanding and sympathy. It’s easy to forget that the marshals too are out on the towpath for all hours – and no one gives them a medal at the end! This is not a race of runners controlled by marshals, it’s an event involving everyone demonstrating their stamina and humour together!
Just in case this makes the marshals sound like a loveable bunch of saints – try going past Henk without your number showing very obviously on your front!
The Hamborough Tavern (133 miles)
I suppose I should have been ready for the diversion being a bit of a trial. It was quite strange being dropped back onto the streets of a normal town and mingling with other pedestrians (and avoiding cars). The British Waterways signs for the diversion were pretty small and not always pointing the right way but the map proved very reliable. I only really had one hiccup at a junction were I had to stand and rotate the map for a few minutes until I could get it to match up – more me than the map. A very elderly gent came up and asked me if I needed help then made sure I crossed the road the right way and waved me off. There seemed to be carry-out restaurants every few feet with very enticing smells coming out which made me feel really hungry for the first time in the race. On the final stretch with the canal almost in sight I met a couple of lads who suggested going to the pub instead. In then turned out they meant the Hamborough Tavern so I guess it’s just as well I turned them down as I hate to think what Henk would have done if he’d spotted me!
Arrived at the checkpoint 8.10 p.m., left 8.20 p.m. after a few crisps and some coke. Definitely no beer. I’ve got my Porty vest ready to add on for when the sun goes down but realize I’ve not got my head torch (no bags at this stop for logistics reasons). I probably would not have worn it anyway as anonymity can be better than seeing where you’re going at some points in this section but it annoys me as the first failure in planning. Target is still to finish but I’m also having thoughts about beating my previous best. Set up the Garmin to pace me in for a midnight finish with a view to seeing it always saying I’m ahead.
Delirious (ZZ Top)
As the lack of sleep, let alone the physical exhaustion, starts kicking in you can be treated to many strange sights along the towpath. Most runners who go past the 36 hour mark seem to experience some level of hallucinations and certainly simple tasks become a lot more difficult. Apart from being convinced that the canal was going uphill (yes, the water, not the footpath), the only things I’ve found myself seeing have been fairly benign. At night and in the light of a head torch, the white flowers on hawthorn bushes started joining up into various shapes – bears and gnomes seemed to occur frequently for some reason! Other runners I have talked to have been a bit more paranoid – being convinced a monkey was watching them or seeing an elephant blocking the path ahead are my particular favourites.
If you have a support crew, they really come in to their own at this stage by simply presenting you with stuff to eat and drink rather than offering a choice. Being asked by the marshals whether you want coffee or tea can induce mental collapse! Actually, it is really very impressive how polite all the runners are, even when getting towards the limit of their endurance. A film made of the 2008 race is full of “please” and “thank you”s from the runners even when soaked to the skin and in the middle of the night.
Piggery Bridge (139 miles)
This is not an official checkpoint but it’s the last of the alternative meeting points for those who have their own support crew. It’s ridiculous how funny the name seems and really would not be noteworthy at all except that I caught up and overtook 3 competitors around it.
I left the Tavern checkpoint at what I thought was a cracking pace and refused to look at the Garmin until my watch said I’d done an hour. 3.98 miles was the result which upset me even though it’s pretty reasonable walking pace and clearly proved to be faster than the others around me were managing. It might seem a bit strange after all this distance to start worrying about places and that’s not really how it works – it’s a case of not daring to change from the pace that suits you at the time so you don’t have the option of slowing down to accompany another competitor. If they were in trouble it would be a different matter but these guys had walking buddies with them so I just kept going. Also it is a race.
London Calling (The Clash)
The last few miles can be a bit of an anticlimax. There are 2 horrible hump-backed bridges you have to cross about a mile from the finish that I went over backwards the first time as I couldn’t seem to lift my feet going forwards, but otherwise it’s a pretty soulless plod with dog walkers trying to ignore you (to be fair, you do look as though you have spent at least one night on the towpath) and anyone out jogging going flying past.
Having gone so far, you know you are going to finish, even if it means crawling or stopping every few yards. This means you lose the extra kick of nearing the finish. Stretches seem to be similar to Little Venice and then they end and you feel you’re back out in the country again. If you have a Garmin, you become convinced that the buildings are interfering with the satellites and you have gone further than it says. The last mile or so goes on for ages; each turn that does not show the finishing line makes you sink a little lower. And then, finally…..
Little Venice, London (145.4 miles)
Up, down, up, down over bridges, up steps and up and down ramps. Odd looking glows on the path ahead could be the finish but when it finally arrives I’m almost there before I’m convinced it really is The Finish. Nice round of applause from the waiting team then Dick hangs the biggest, heaviest, shiniest most meaningful medal ever round my neck. Job done. Instant contentment.
41 hours, 46 minutes, 26th place. PB by 18 minutes but under very different circumstances.
I Don’t Like Mondays (Boomtown Rats)
After a brief rest at the finish I knew I had to get to my hotel as my legs were seizing up. I’m sorry I didn’t wait to see the next finishers but if I’d stayed any longer I doubt I could have moved. In the end 34 out of the 86 starters will finish the race, the highest number finishing ever. Pat Robbins has broken his own course record with 26 hours 24 minutes – it’s on a different level but everyone finishing this race takes a lot of pride in their personal achievement.
Train back to Edinburgh at Monday lunchtime, not that I feel like eating yet but keep drinking all the time. Ankles and feet are pretty swollen though no blister damage at all. Right knee is definitely not good and I doubt I’ll be at the club for a couple of weeks.
I have proved a lot to myself this weekend and I don’t feel the need to do it again. Taking a canal boat along the route and actually visiting all those nice looking pubs is definitely attractive and if it happened to be on race weekend, I’d be ready with full sugar, full caffeine, no nonsense supplies for any passing runner!
Report Niall Dinwoodie
